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#i will answer sugar rush in another
lovebugism · 5 months
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how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy
a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch. 
Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar. 
Speaking of sweet…
His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.
Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.
He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.
“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.
Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”
“Did you sleep good?” 
“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”
“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”
Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”
Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”
“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”
He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”
“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”
“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.
“Get out of the kitchen!”
“What’d I do?”
“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”
“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”
You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.
The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”
Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”
Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”
“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”
“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”
“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.
“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”
Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.
“You’re welcome…”
Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.
“It’s different!”
The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.
“That’s not true!”
“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”
“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.
“Eddie,” you scold quietly.
The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.
“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”
Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now. 
“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”
“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”
“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”
You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.
The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.
“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.
You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”
“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”
“Eddie.”
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luveline · 7 months
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IM BEGGING ON MY KNEES PLEASEEEE 🔥🔥🔥 NOTICE MEEEE
Really quiet and shy reader who’s new to the team and Spencer JUST got out of prison like a month ago and he comes back and sees the cutest girl he’s ever seen so young and new to the team and can’t help but tease her
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️
Unit Chief Emily Prentiss scares the fuck out of you, but you're still not as intimidated by her as you are by Dr. Reid. 
Dr. Reid, and not Special Supervisory Agent Reid —there's a big difference— shouldn't be a scary guy. He doesn't have any tattoos or piercings, his haircut is tame, and you watch him pour enough sugar into his coffee to weaken the enamel of your teeth just looking at it. But while all or this is true, Dr. Reid just came back from a weeks long stint in one of the most tense prisons in the world. Emily assured you in her way that everything bad you may have heard about Dr. Reid would be false, and that anything positive is true. 
He looks different to how you'd pictured him. Emily's promise aside, Garcia painted him as some sweater-wearing Teddy bear of a boy who likes chess and Doctor Who. 
This is a man. Full grown, full suit, dark-eyes. You're not sure what to feel as he spots you. When Anderson gave you the desk across from Spencer's you'd thought you were lucky, getting treated as part of the team from the very beginning, but now you're not so sure. 
“Hey,” he says, eyes on you as he puts down his coffee atop a stack of medical journals. His things were left untouched while he was gone, even though he was technically separated from the bureau. He's well respected. “I've been excited to meet you. I'm Spencer.” 
“Dr. Reid,” you say immediately, standing up from your chair to meet him besides your desks. 
“Spencer,” he says again. “I don't shake.” 
“Oh, no, of course not,” you say, hiding your hands behind your back. “I know you were here long before me, but I can safely say how nice it is to have you back.” You smile. “They were all so worried about you.” 
“You kept them in line while I was gone?” 
“No, I was useless. I've never felt this stupid in my life.” 
“That's just how it feels for the first year.” He isn't smiling, isn't frowning, a hint of amusement in his eyes and hands steady as he tucks them into his pants pockets. “It's not the others, is it?” 
“No, there's just a lot to learn.” 
“It shouldn't be hard for you, though, right?” He gestures to you like this means something. 
“I don't…” 
“You're what, twenty four?” Spencer picks up his mug and takes a drink. “If you're smart enough to be here now, you'll be fine.” 
“You think so?” 
“Don't tell me you're scared, Y/N.” His lashes flare ever so slightly in feigned surprise. After a second of your obvious flustering, he laughs. “No, you don't scare easily. I can tell.” 
Absolutely nothing like you told me he'd be, Penelope. I thought we were friends. 
“So what was your last case like? The Bentley driver?” he asks, nodding toward your desk. “How's your peer reviews going? They used to drive me insane.” 
You startle and rush to sit in your desk chair, opening the case file from the last case to gather his approval. He flicks through pages, almost non-committal, though he gives a hum of approval when he reads your UnSub summary, and when he sees a comment you'd made that you'd believed to be particularly astute, he laughs. “Yeah,” he says, “you'll be fine.” The smell of him floats your way, cologne or aftershave that makes you feel dizzy. He looks down at you. “Something wrong?” 
“Nothing, uh–” You bite your tongue rather than answer and trip over another useless sentence. 
He touches the top of your shoulder lightly. “It will get easier,” he promises. 
He means work, of course, but for a split second you wonder if he means being near him. If he's like this often, you doubt that that's true. 
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whore-era · 1 year
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1-800-GIRLS
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☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2
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phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.
monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?
uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..
oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.
ummm..
you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.
this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?
....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?
woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?
this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.
PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"
"does she sound hot?"
"well yeah, but—"
hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.
HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!
the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.
sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"
tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?
hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.
it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.
.......
.......
soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?
ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.
i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?
what thing? the hotline?
yeah..
well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.
okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?
yeah, if you want to.
sick.
ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.
so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?
you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.
specify what you mean by 'like'?
i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?
ehh...i guess.
c'mon. you can be honest with me.
well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.
oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?
uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.
what the fuck. seriously?
mhm, it's true.
shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.
well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.
holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?
19.
that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.
how 'bout you? how old are you?
21.
not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.
yeah? how?
considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.
ellie laughs.
how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?
you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.
well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?
i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.
is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?
uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—
all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.
so, how 'bout you sugar?
...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.
the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.
what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.
oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.
you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?
it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.
wednesday, 11:45am
sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.
you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.
"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.
"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.
handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.
slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"
leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.
saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)
thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.
no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.
sure will, babygirl.
the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.
sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.
you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.
but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.
taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.
fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.
the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.
luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.
ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.
the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.
saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?
hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.
you let out a soft laugh.
why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?
'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.
nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.
ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?
you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.
uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?
i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.
business? what business?
ah— well—
ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.
if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?
you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.
you can hear her laugh from the other end.
well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.
ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?
yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.
maybe you'll be my only customer.
i wouldn't complain.
speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?
trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.
what nicknames do your clients usually pick?
uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.
something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.
you could just put me down as ellie.
got it.
what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?
well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.
okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?
no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.
ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.
but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.
yeah? let's see about that.
saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??
you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.
no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.
you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.
as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.
so, how long were you and your ex together?
uhhhh, about 2 years.
ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?
ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.
why? who's asking?
well, i was just— uhh—
i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.
okay, okay. good to know.
how 'bout you?
nope. i'm single too.
seriously?? how?
i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.
i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—
can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.
ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.
hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.
oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.
maybe they're closer to you than you think.
your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.
i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.
oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.
goodnight, ellie.
sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)
hey.
hey. where's your usual greeting?
you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.
ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.
good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?
just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?
smoking, just finished some homework.
what class was it for?
uhhh, just this calculus class.
you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.
....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.
yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.
i'd be a terrible student.
i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.
you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.
what's your quiz on anyways?
energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.
i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.
okay, i can do that.
you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.
alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.
you think so?
i know so. you're such a smart girl.
there she goes again, praising you.
uh, th-thanks.
don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.
a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.
you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.
m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.
of course. always. goodnight, sugar.
goodnight, ellie.
monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)
yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?
mhm, yes mister.
c'mon. beg, sugar.
please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.
ah, hell.
you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.
what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.
i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—
yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.
the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.
but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.
wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.
monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-
woah, woah, woah are you crying?
e-ellie?
yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.
today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—
you sniffle.
— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.
i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.
i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.
ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.
do you trust me?
....y-yea, of c-course. why?
i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?
okay.
first of all, where are you?
i-in my room, sitting at my desk.
okay. go lay down on your bed.
with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.
okay, i'm on my bed.
good. what are you wearing?
foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.
ellie, you really don't have to-
hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.
biting your lip, you fold.
i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.
that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?
okay.
good girl. now, what are you wearing?
uh.. a tank top and shorts.
cute. take them off.
gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.
done?
mhm.
good. so obedient.
i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.
rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.
how does it feel?
feels good.
bet it does.
ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.
now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.
as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.
doesn't it feel nice, baby?
mhm.
wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.
you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.
alright, take your panties off. slowly.
you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.
okay, they're off.
such a good girl, following my every command.
you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.
slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.
hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.
god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.
i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.
i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.
your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.
slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.
spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.
fuuuuuck.
i-
you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.
go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.
the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.
your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.
as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.
how does it feel, baby?
f-feels amazing, ellie.
you let out a low whimper.
i wish you were here.
me too, pup. me too.
you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.
i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.
you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.
rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?
you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.
your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?
mhm, yes, daddy.
good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.
with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.
i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—
you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.
your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.
oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—
arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.
look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.
that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.
god, i made a mess.
oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.
monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.
oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?
ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.
seriously? how?
i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-
wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?
oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.
i— uh— i have to go—
wait! sugar! please. hear me out.
you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.
if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.
.....why?
i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.
you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.
listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.
....
i really hope you come.
the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.
tuesday, 2:50pm
ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.
looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.
as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.
there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.
walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.
"hi ellie, it's me."
pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3
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harmfulb1tch · 6 months
Note
How about a Coryo fic where he and reader had a thing before the 10th Games but after everything happened and Coryo went to 12, reader got engaged to someone else maybe Festus or someone??? Coriolanus comes back and tries to get reader back and idk how that goes 🙏🏽
Fallen Rose Petals
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Part 2
Summary: he came back, but you were married to another.
Warnings: Angst (happy ending), fluff and suggestive smut (nothing graphic)
A/N: I tried to keep him as in character as possible, but I added a bit of softness because I was in the mood ok??? Please suggest More Coriolanus snow fanfics if you want to, the requests are open!
He came back. He came back just for you. He searched for you in every corner of the Capitol. And he found you, he really did. You were sitting in a café, beautiful red and black dress draped on your body, the white rose he gave you before he left to district 12 pinned to your dress just above your heart. You looked content. You hadn’t seen him yet as he approached you, but something didn’t feel right. Something felt different. He kept approaching you until he saw something shiny on your finger, a golden band with an enormous rock on the center.
Festus Creed came out of the café with a strawberry croissant covered in powdered sugar, you favorite. He hugged you and started kissing your neck in the middle of the street. You looked horrified, embarrassed and even disgusted, but Coriolanus was just seeing red. You looked to the side trying to get away from you husband, and saw the blonde man of your dreams walking away. You gently tried to push you husband away but when that didn’t result effective, you practically shoved him to the side, trying to run after him. You high heel’s retrained you from running, as if it was a sign that he was already gone and you were to live the rest of your life with Festus.
Truth be told, you never wanted to marry Festus. He was arrogant and, frankly, you hated him. You parents on the other hand decided that you had to marry someone of influence and money who could “take care of you”. You always thought Coriolanus Snow was going to be that man, but your parents had other plans.
“Corio!” You called after him like your life depended on it, but to no avail, he never turned back. You dropped to the floor dramatically, as tears stained your face and destroyed the make up you were wearing.
When Coriolanus arrived home, he immediately shut the door of his bedroom harshly behind him, ignoring the comments of concern coming from Tigris and his Grandma’am. After that, in a fit of rage, he started shouting and trashing his bedroom. He threw things against the walls and off the shelves. He felt absolutely blind with rage. After all this years of him waiting for you during his exile, thinking about you even in his sleep and fantasizing about your life together once he came back and had you in his arms. Now, all of that became a fantasy of the past.
The first thing you did after all that, was run towards the street and call your driver to take you to Coriolanus’ childhood home. You knew where it was because all of the time you had spent there during your time at the Academy together. When you arrived, you knocked on the door.
“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Tigris said as she opened the door of the house, unaware of the situation that had taken place.
“Hi! Is Corio here? I need to talk to him, it’s urgent” you said rushed, filled with anxiety.
“Uh… yeah he’s in his room. But um.. I don’t think it’s a good time-“ you cut her mid sentence brushing passed her and rushing towards his bedroom. You knocked three times but there was no answer. You then proceeded to open the door.
The sight in front of you was miserable. You knew Corio never looked vulnerable in front of others, so you had never seen him like that in your whole life. He was sitting at the edge of his bed, with his back to the door. He had his head draped on his hands, hunching over the side. You could hear him softly crying. This scene was so unlike him you didn’t think it was truly him. Everything around him was completely wrecked, which wasn’t unusual for him and you had seen his outbursts before.
You softly walked towards him, and placed a hand on his shoulder softly as to not startle him. You didn’t know if he knew it was you, or if he thought it was just his cousin. You draped your arm over his shoulders and placed your face on his shoulder. He looked to the side and saw you.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He said harshly, moving away from your touch.
“Corio…” you said in a soft tone, just above a whisper “I’m sorry…”
“WHAT ARE YOU SORRY FOR HUH?! FOR BEING A TRAITOR?! YOU COULDN’T KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS AND WAIT FOR ME?!” He started shouting at you as he stood up, making you feel small and weak sitting on the edge of his bed.
“Corio-“
“Don’t call me that”
“It wasn’t like that. I was waiting for you! My father arranged the marriage not me” At this point, you had started crying and felt absolutely horrible for something that wasn’t even your fault “Please Corio… you have to believe me…”
You knew Corio wasn’t likely to forgive you. But in a small moment of vulnerability caused by a crack in his heart, he placed his hand on your chin and made you look up at him. He loved you this way, beneath him, vulnerable, always so open to his touch. He then cupped you face with the same hand, you leaned into his touch, still crying, while he softly wiped a tear from you face.
“I love you Corio, and I missed you. I’m glad you’re back” you said smiling softly.
“I love you too, petal. And I missed you so much…” this was extremely weird for him, but you appreciated it. He proceeded to kiss you with so much hunger and lust, you got lightheaded.
This was what felt correct. Your kisses with Festus never held passion or love. When you kissed Corio, it was as if you heart exploded in a million pieces. You felt like putty.
When the kiss ended you hugged him and cried in arms. He could tell you weren’t happy in your marriage and that you were forced into it. For the next few hours he held you close to him and made love to you like you deserved. He knew Festus didn’t fuck you as good as he did.
Then, you had to go home. You were about to leave through the door when he turned you around, pressed you against the door and once again tilted your head upwards to look at him.
“I will convince your parents for you to leave that scumbag. I have the money now to give you the life you deserve, petal. I promise” with that he yet again kissed you possessively and let you go, pushing aside his jealousy, only because he knew he would end up having you as his wife.
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solbaby7 · 3 months
Note
I loved Blurred Lines!! Do you think you’d ever want to do a part 2 for when Rhys shows up? 👀 👀🔥
[ part one ]
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Rhysand hears you before he see’s you.
Unhinged shouts and the rhythmic smacking of skin on skin pulling him closer, beckoning him inside. The concealed safe house reeks of sex, clothes scattered around the floor from the moment he walks in; chairs are tipped over, rugs askew and there’s a dent on the hallway wall.
He doesn’t bother calling out for you, certain that you probably wouldn’t hear him anyway through the drug-induced haze. The traces of it lingers in your scent, spiking sweet honey and brown sugar with strong notes of spicy cinnamon that settles thick in his throat. “Swear, I can take it, Az.” Desperate whines and choppy breaths coupled with deep grunts and a husky swear at the sound of your plea. “Just a little harder.”
Rhys knew it shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. The blood that rushed between his legs at the sound of Azriel complying, doing everything you’d asked for and more. Neither of you even notice him, shadows too distracted in squeezing at heaving breasts and gliding up the length of your neck. A soothing cool to combat the overwhelming heat that Azriel had spent hours trying to quench.
It would work for a little while before the need grew again, demanding more tongue and teeth biting into your shoulders. Blazing for the harsh grip of Azriel’s hands on your hips as his cock nudged in as far as your body allowed. “Rhys will be here soon,” He’d mutter into the shell of your ear when you’d clench around him, hips stuttering and tears streaming down your cheeks from the sensitivity of yet another orgasm.
And yet, still your body commanded more.
“It won’t stop,” Sweat beads at your hairline, hair tangled and lips swollen as your body holds onto Azriel like a lifeline. Filthy sounds squelch between where you begin and he ends, arousal dripping like a leaky faucet. “Why won’t it stop?”
“Rhys,” Azriel sighs in relief when the High Lord comes into view, exhaustion evident in tousled inky hair and droopy lids but he’s too lost in the feeling to stop. The spymasters wings are splayed out behind him as your hands wander freely along the leathery texture, hips rocking and tongue dragging along the side of his neck. “You’re here.”
Rhysand nods once, easing you off and into his arms. You find instant relief with his touch, face buried in his neck as he guides you into the bathroom. The water in the tub had long since ran cold and yet it’s perfectly warm when he rests you inside. “Took you long enough,” You whisper weakly, voice raspy from overuse. “I nearly broke him.”
His jaw clenched, unreasonable jealously tickling at the edge of his mind at the sight of Azriel’s marks on you. “I can see that,” Rhys pushes damp hair from your face, cupping at flushed cheeks to stare into your eyes. At the bright specks the shade of lavender dotting the iris, a stark contrast from pupils blown with lust. “Amren said it sounds like you were drugged with a strong mix of herbs; mostly meant to disorient but a natural side-affect is debilitating arousal.”
“She say how long it’ll last?”
Rhys grimaces slightly, hesitating before answering. “Depending on how much you ingested? Roughly a few hours, possibly less.”
Your heart plummets. So much time had already passed. How much more could you possibly endure?
More. More. More.
Every bone in your body screams as you watch the High Lord undress, exposing sun-kissed skin and mouth-watering tattoos. The water trickles when your thighs shift, searching for friction as a fresh wave of need rises. “In that case,” Your hand trails down beneath the water, hyperaware of the violet stare tracking every move. “I hope you brought your stamina.”
He’s quick to join you in the tub—even quicker when he tugs you on top of him, pressing claiming kisses to your mouth and he slides in with ease, hushed curses falling from full lips from the near unbearable heat of your cunt. “It’s not my stamina you should be worried about,” Rhysand’s deliberate in the way he slowly lifts you off him, watching more of his length come into view until only the fat tip of his cock is inside. “I’ll spend all night fucking the smell of him off you if I must.”
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tteokdoroki · 9 months
Text
☆༉ — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. when you call, my heart answers.
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about. megumi always picks up when you call, no matter where he might be — since his heart is always longing for you.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, college au, megumi is a simp n super soft, i mention a British snack (white chocolate buttons), sort of air-headed reader, selfship coded!! gn!reader.
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megumi always picks up the phone when you call him, no matter where he is. even if he’s with the guys and they’re teasing him when your contact flashes across his screen (emoticons, glitter symbols and all), megumi answers.
he glares daggers at his friends, drawing a line with his thumb across the neck in a menacing gesture but speaks to you with the softest voice. “you called, baby?”
“hi ‘gumi, was wonderin’ if you could get some milk on the way home. i just got in and i tootally forgot.” your voice is chipper across the line, sweet as if it’s been dipped in powdered sugar that gives megumi some kind of energetic high.
“yeah, okay. i can do that baby.” he smiles to himself, blocking out the sounds of his rowdy friends by covering his free ear — wanting to focus entirely on you. “anything else you need?”
“mnah, i think we’re good.” you’re probably preoccupied with another task, either doing your nightly routine (which makes fushiguro pout because he loves to help you with your skincare) or rummaging about in your shared kitchen for a snack. if it’s the snack you’re after, he chooses to wait on the other end of the line. “wait actually, can you grab me some of those chocolates i like too. the white chocolate thingies.”
and there it is. he knows you like no other.
“buttons, baby. i gotcha.” it’s almost funny, how megumi finds himself clinging onto the last moments of your phone call, desperately grasping onto the wispy notes of your honeysuckle voice. it’s funny how when you call, he comes running like a man fallen victim to a siren song. just hearing you speak puts megumi at ease, makes him yearn for you, love you a little more. “be good, lock the doors so you can keep safe for me. okay?”
“‘kay! bye ‘gumi, love you!” the words rush out of your mouth and shoot a Cupid’s arrow straight through megumi’s heart. but then you pause as if you’ve forgotten something, whispering down the line. “be safe as well. i miss you.”
he chuckles again, still fending off his friends but manages to find answer with. “i miss you.” right back.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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sideblogofhell · 9 months
Text
a forbidden fruit
summary: pietro eats something he shouldn't have pairing: pietro maximoff x male reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, s3x pollen, blowjobs, unprotected sex a/n: part iv have fun do leave comments if u liked it
masterlist | the repentant's corner
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Pietro dashed around the lot sixteen times to make sure no one was there. You rubbed your hands together for some heat against the chilling night. The grass crackled beneath your feet trying to chase after your partner. You ended up a panting mess next to him, your knees shaking. 
“So I was thinking, after this patrol maybe we could go out sometime?” he said, his breath unwavering. You gulped and tried to let out a word, your voice dry and coarse. You nod, sweat dripping down your forehead. 
“Can you focus?” you said, trying to open the door. He broke open the warehouse padlock with ease, vibrating at a pace that dislodged the gears that kept the lock secure. 
You slide the rusty door open into a dark room. Pietro used a flashlight to look into the path. The warehouse was small, almost the size of a barn, the floor a flat grey concrete, the walls tall and rusted. There were a few broken wooden crates scattered all over the floor, a metal table on the farthest left. 
Your partner zoomed into the room like a faint blue flare. He checked to see the contents of the crates, all seemed empty.  He sat on the metal table, a few newspapers sprawled out and a white dish used as a makeshift ashtray. 
“Look at this,” he pulled out a small ziplock bag filled with different sugar-coated candy like Skittles. He takes one out and puts it in his mouth, licking the sugar off his fingers. You took the bag from him, smelling the contents; sweet and fresh. “Want one?”
“You idiot! I don’t think this is candy,” you took the bag inside your pocket, Pietro smirking. “We have to send this to the lab.”
“It’s fine, fast metabolism remember?” he shrugged. 
The plane ride back to the compound was quiet. Pietro sat away from you and kept to himself, which was very unusual. He would always try to bother you while you flew the quinjet, always teasing and messing around, but right now he was slumped over to the side using his phone. 
You arrived at the compound a few hours later, the airdock marshalls taking over the jet. You asked other agents to rush to Dr. Cho’s lab to send the candy samples. “Pietro and I found this on patrol tonight,” you gave the pack to her assistants before they went on to test the samples. 
Your phone dinged to a message from Pietro. Meet me in the conference room at 4B ASAP. 
“Fine, I’m an idiot,” he said. “My dick has been so hard for the past five hours and I can’t make it go away!”
“Your what?” you looked at the tent in between his legs, his knuckles were pale white as he gripped onto his pants. “Well I knew it was a drug but I didn’t know it was that kind!”
“What are we gonna do?” he said, his silver-gray hair all tousled over his forehead. He zoomed around and around the room, a cobalt blur blew gusts of wind everywhere he went. He stopped in a corner, his legs shaking and his face flushed. 
“We?” you clamored. “How the fuck am I supposed to help?”
“I don’t know you’re smarter than me!” his eyes widened, his voice shaking, sweat dripping down his forehead. He braced for another run but you held onto his arm. He shuddered, his skin was hot. 
“We should tell Dr. Cho,” you said. “Get you medicine or something.” 
“Absolutely not,” he pleaded. “It’s embarrassing,” his eyes wandered all over the room as if the answers were written on the walls. “We should deal with this the way it's intended.”
“Yeah, no,” you said before turning for the door. Pietro suddenly was in front of you blocking your exit. 
“Please draga—“ his lips were dead set. Pietro was an ill-tempered man, his demeanor was quick like his abilities, charismatic but also stubborn. You thought for a second, you’re helping a co-worker that’s all right?
“Well, how do we do it?” you said. He removed his jacket, and his blue shirt underneath. You marveled at his taut chest, the ridged cuts across his abdomen, and the two lines pointing down his sex. You tried to look away, but you couldn’t believe someone could look like that, like a Greek sculpture. 
“Come here,” he said, pulling you into a kiss. His lips were warm against yours, his stubble pricking at your cheeks. Your hands find his chest for stability, snaking around his neck to pull him closer. His large arms circle around your waist, finding the hem of your pants and going through to your ass. 
He spun you around and pinned your hands above your head, using his other hand to pull your pants down. He smoothed his palms on the plump mounds before giving it a spank, leaving it a red blush. He practically rips his pants open, his thick cock hard and leaking. He spits on his free hand, using it to prepare you. 
“I’m gonna go in okay?” he said in a whimpering tone. You nod, your cheeks warm. He spits again to lube his cock before feeling the pressure on your hole. It was sharp for a bit, the pressure easing as he flushed himself in, the base of his cock hitting your ass. He stops for a second, relishing the heat from your body. “So tight—”
You grunted when he pulled out, only to thrust back in. He began to fuck you at a languid pace, the sensation soothing the tingly feeling Pietro got from the drug. He tried to go slower, to make sure you won’t get hurt but he couldn’t. As you tried to move your hips at the same beat of his body he started to—vibrate. 
You let out a gasp, you thought of the toy you had at home, the one you use thinking about him, but the speed and intensity could not rival him. Pietro let out a series of cusses in Sokovian, it sounded like he was pleading to a god. Your knees turned wobbly from his thrusts, his body vibrating at a pace that made your eyes roll back, your own sex hard and leaking in your trousers. 
“Pietro—fuck,” you moaned.
“I can’t control it, you’re too warm,” his words shaking. “And good,” He let go of your hands, shifting to your waist, he gripped so hard you knew it would bruise. He moved quicker, like a piledriver into you, it stung but the pleasure of hitting your prostate compensated. 
When gripping onto your waist wasn’t enough, he wrapped his arms around your body hugging you, and began to thrust into you harder, his silver hair plastered on his forehead wet. Your body tried to keep you up but your legs betrayed you. You fell down, his cock pulling out. “I can’t stand.”
He pulls you to the table nearby, propping you with your legs on his shoulders. He lines himself back into your hole driving back into his thrusts. The vibrating began again, shaking the table as he gripped it on its edge. You let out desperate cries, he tried to soothe you by kissing your lips, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. “I’m close—” he cried out.
You nodded, the constant stimulation to your prostate was going to make you cum untouched. His thrusts became erratic, still a vibrating mess. Pietro stood up and you marveled at the glistening sight, his abdomen contracting and relaxing on each thrust, his head pulled back and his lids closed. 
And then the climax hit, cum shooting inside you in thick, your own release spewing on your belly. The vibration slows, Pietro a panting mess for once, a side of him you’ve never seen. He places a peck on your lips and mouths praises. 
“So about that date?”
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rainbowhao · 3 months
Text
fratboy beomgyu
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fratboy beomgyu who is all too curious about the mysterious person nextdoor and makes it his mission to become your friend
fratboy beomgyu who happily meets you in the elevator one afternoon and can't help but strike up a conversation as if you're already acquainted
"do you come here often?"
"i live here?"
fratboy beomgyu who doesn't even notice the odd looks you're giving him on the ride up, just keeps chirping away til you get to the third floor
fratboy beomgyu who can't take a hint when you practically slam the door in his face before he can say goodbye—who just shrugs and digs around in his pocket for the dorm key
fratboy beomgyu who loves to say good morning or ask about your day whenever he gets the chance, even if he's tired or running late
"oh. hello," he greets. his long hair is disheveled as he steps out into the hallway wearing crinkled sweats and a sweatshirt. "are you headed to class too?"
you nod. it appears he's overslept though doesn't appear to be in any rush.
"it's cold out there. don't you have a coat?" he frowns. "here. have mine."
fratboy beomgyu who shoves his jacket into your arms before you can decline and runs away with manic laughter spilling out his lips
fratboy beomgyu who goes to parties just to goof off with his friends or get high and play records on his portable turntable
fratboy beomgyu who comes home late one night and can't get the door unlocked so he tiredly knocks thinking someone will answer and let him in
fratboy beomgyu who stares at you with wide eyes and smeared eyeshadow when you poke your head out to see what the noise is and make direct eye contact
fratboy beomgyu who happily allows you to open the door for him and somehow convinces you to help him inside because he can't walk
fratboy beomgyu who nearly blacks out and suddenly finds himself on the bed and head resting on your lap while you look down at him
"please get off me."
"but you look so pretty like this."
fratboy beomgyu who thinks you got the wrong idea about him and tell you so, hoping you won't misunderstand the type of person he is
"i'm also in a small music club. i play the guitar....oh you've heard me? heh. sorry."
fratboy beomgyu who is admittingly a little embarrassed to be acting so desperate for your attention and wonders whether you even like him at all but still doesn't give up
fratboy beomgyu who bakes you sugar cookies for valentine's day and leaves them at your doorstep with a note and drawing of a teddy bear
fratboy beomgyu who nervously paces around his dorm room while he waits for you to get back from class in approximately 10 minutes
fratboy beomgyu who is startled by the sound of knocking and met with your face and that unreadable expression that drives him crazy
"if you don't like it or something i can—"
"i like them a lot."
fratboy beomgyu who is ecstatic when you sit on the floor together and try his cookies (which are obviously delicious) while he plays you his favorite albums
fratboy beomgyu who has finally broken through your cold exterior and become your friend—who really won't leave you alone now that he knows you're at least a little fond of him
fratboy beomgyu who coerces you into sleepovers and goes as far as setting up a cot next to your bed (once you finally let him inside your dorm room, that is) so that you can talk about random shit for hours
fratboy beomgyu who is secretly over the moon when you beg him to go to sleep and even crawl down onto the floor to just cover his mouth
fratboy beomgyu whose heart beats quickly when he realizes how close you are and just how intimate a dark night can be—who cups your hand with his own and slowly pulls your fingers away from his mouth
"please don't go."
you're silent for a while.
"can you stay down here? i'll be good."
fratboy beomgyu who lifts the blankets and allows you to hesitantly settle in beside him—who doesn't dare make another sound in fear of scaring you off
fratboy beomgyu who is coaxed to sleep by your body's warmth, shoulders touching and limbs eventually entangling til your forms meld into one
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thebearer · 11 months
Note
would you be willing to write something along the lines of casual dominant Carmy taking care of his girl who’s injured, maybe working at the restaurant with him? like maybe he’s super pissed at the carelessness causing injuries but also super concerned and caring
(may or may not be inspired by me breaking my finger and having it taped up, chipping the bone in my ankle and hurting most of the toes of the same foot 😅)
i tweaked the plot just a bit but same scenario lol. hope you enjoy!
"Hands!" Carmen yelled, plating the finished bolognese for Tina to grab, nodding at the perfected response. It was busy today, far busier than he expected with the stormy, summer weather, but he couldn't complain. The team was moving like a well oiled machine, customers were happy, and even Richie was in a good, upbeat mood.
"Corner!" Sydney announced, turning the corner abruptly, hand on the store's phone. "Chef, I need you."
"What?" Carmen looked over, adding the finishing garnish to the dish before putting it on the serving station. "What's the matter?"
Sydney hesitated, turning to Tina. "Tina, can you cover please? Just for a second?"
"Yes, Chef." Tina nodded, moving to Carmen's station, and ripping another order out.
"What's goin' on? Is it the freezer again? Fuckin' Richie-"
Sydney shook her head, nodding towards Carmen's office. "It's for you." Nodding to the phone in her hand.
"For me?" Carmen's eyes bulged, heart skipping a beat. "Are they mad?" His voice dropped low, eyes cutting to her's.
"No, no, not like that." Sydney shook her head. "It's a personal call. Look, I-I'll go cover for you."
Then Carmen was left, standing alone in his office, cradling the phone with a blinking hold line. He recognized the number nearly immediately- your number. Why would you call him at work? On the store phone? Suddenly, he was taken back to New York, standing in the kitchen after the dinner rush, looking at Sugar's name flash over and over and over on his phone.
His stomach turned, hands shaking when he answered it. "H-Hello?"
"Hi, Carmy." Your voice sounded small, a little wobbly- like you'd been crying. He was sure he was gonna be sick now.
"Hey," Carmen breathed, trying to still the beating in his chest. "What-What's goin' on? You alright? I-I didn't have my phone on me, but-"
"I'm alright." You soothed. "Well, I mean, for the most part. I... I'm at the emergency room."
That was all Carmen needed to hear, snatching his things out of the top drawer and bounding around the corner towards the back, shouting at Sydney to handle it, and cursing furiously when the line went dead.
Carmen walked through the dreaded halls of the emergency room, under the sickening fluorescence until he found your room. You looked up at him, eyes still red rimmed with left over tears, your friend chatting next to you.
"Hey, you alright?" Carmen pushed through the door, clumsily bounding towards your bedside. He still had his apron on, drove here in his fucking clogs he could barely press the pedals on, mind racing too quickly to care.
"Yeah, 'm alright." You muttered, looking down at your bandaged arm. "I burned myself and it was pretty bad. Jordie got scared and wanted to make sure it was treated." You nodded towards your friend.
Carmen felt the lump in his throat, bobbing with every movement of his head. "Yeah, I, uh, I see that." He looked carefully at the gauze.
"I'm gonna go," Jordie said, looking over at you gently. "If you're good with that."
"Yeah, I'll be alright now. Thank you." You hugged her with your good arm, Carmen muttering a thank you as she left.
Carmen sat beside you, hand falling over your leg. "How'd you do that, baby? What happened?"
You sighed, frustrated, maybe a little embarrassed. "It's so stupid." You could feel the tears flooding your water line again, Carmen's hand soothing them with tiny rubs. "I was making brownies for me and Jordie so we could have, like, a chill little movie day. And-And I wasn't even thinking, we were just talking, and I grabbed the tray out of the oven without a mitt." Your lip wobbled.
Carmen's eyes softened, cooing at you lightly. "And-And I freaked and didn't want to drop the tray so I threw it in the water, and then I ran my hand under cold water, like you said to do, but it was blistering really bad already and-and I don't know it looked like it was bleeding, and we were both freaking out because it hurt so fucking bad, so she took me here."
"That was good." Carmen nodded, your watery gaze meeting his. "No, that-that was the right thing to do. Could get infected."
"It's gonna cost so much." You muttered, looking down at your feet. "I-I should've called you- I tried to, but you didn't answer and... I just got scared."
"Don't worry about it." Carmen shook his head, reaching out to wipe a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. "You got insurance, we'll figure it out, alright? Just... You did the right thing, baby."
You took a shaky breath, curling into his touch, cheek to the palm of his hand. "The doctor said it was third degree." You muttered.
Carmen sucked a breath in. "Ouch. That's gonna hurt tomorrow. They give you anything for it?"
You nodded. "It's at the pharmacy. Some cream and bandages and something for the pain."
"Good." Carmen nodded. "We'll stop on the way home, ok? You gotta make sure you keep it clean, alright? Be gentle with it. Take it easy, ok? Can't get it infected."
You rolled your eyes lightly, rubbing your eyes with your free hand. "I will." You nodded.
"I know you will. I'll make sure you do, alright? I'll help you, baby." Carmen cooed, taking your wrist gently in his hand, pressing a soft kiss to the bottom of the bandage.
"I didn't mean for you to leave, Carmy." You sighed, blinking at him gently. "You didn't have to leave for me-"
"-Yeah, I did." Carmen said, a finality in his tone that left no room for argument. "Don't say that to me. You know I'm gonna come check on you. You're hurt."
"And it's dinner." You countered. "I was just letting you know."
"And I'm glad you did." Carmen said sincerely. "But I wanted to come. Syd's got it. I called Sugar on the way here, and she's gonna help Richie out front, and I'm gonna take you home. Make sure you're all good."
Carmen took extra caution, listening to the doctor's orders before your discharge- as if he didn't know most of the protocol. He was meticulous about your schedule for the next few days, texting you when to take your medicine, clean your gauze, not hold your phone in your injured hand. Everything he could to make sure you felt better, even making those brownies for you- from scratch, this time, which beat your Betty Crocker box ones.
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kvrokasaa · 26 days
Text
The Morning After
Includes: Isagi, Otoya, Reo, Chigiri, and Rin
Cw: Suggestive, Reo's mentions reader's hair being kinda long, not proofread. 1.4k words
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Yoichi wakes up to the soft glare of the sun filtering through the blinds. He blinks a few times, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. The events of last night come rushing back to him - the laughter, the touches, the connection. He turns his head slightly and sees you lying next to him, still peacefully asleep.
A soft, almost inaudible chuckle leaves his lips while he takes in the serenity of the scene. Your hair is sprawled out on the pillow, your arms clutching the poor thing for dear life.
Cute.
Carefully, Isagi slips out of bed, trying not to wake you. He stretches, feeling the pleasant soreness from last night's activities. He moves quietly, deciding to make coffee and prepare a simple breakfast. As he waits for the coffee, he glances back towards the bedroom, his thoughts drifting. Last night felt different than any other one-night stand. It felt special. There was a connection between you both. It makes him feel both excited and nervous about what could come next.
You stir awake at the smell of coffee - the aroma drawing you out of your slumber. You stretch and sit up, the blanket slipping down to your waist.
You notice Isagi in the kitchen - with no shirt on - making breakfast and coffee. You could almost drool at the sight. "Morning," you say softly, your voice a bit raspy from all the moaning and screaming from the night before.
Isagi turns his face lighting at the sight of you in his shirt and nothing else. "Good morning," he replies, his voice gentle. "I made some coffee. Want a cup?"
You nod and reach out to grab the cup filled with coffee. Isagi speaks as you put in your desired creams and sugars. "Last night was amazing," he started, "I'd love to see where this can go." And of course, you have no other answer than yes.
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You wake up with a start, the early morning light filtering through the curtains. As the events from last night come rushing back, you feel a mix of exhilaration and anxiety. You turn your head to see Otoya still asleep beside you, his face relaxed and peaceful. For a moment, you just watch him, trying to sort through your tangled thoughts and feelings.
You've known Otoya since you were kids, but his reputation as a player makes your heart ache with uncertainty. Was last night just another fleeting moment for him? Does he have a girlfriend? The doubts gnaw at you, making it hard to breathe.
Carefully, you slip out of bed, trying not to wake him. You move quietly around the room, gathering your clothes and getting dressed as quickly and silently as possible. You hope to leave before he wakes up, to spare yourself any potential heartbreak.
Just as you reach the door, you hear a rustle behind you. You freeze, your heart pounding.
"Leaving so soon?" Otoya's voice is soft, but it startles you. You turn to see him standing behind you, his eyes half-open but focused on you. "I-I should go," you stammer, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry, I just..." You trail off.
"I'm scared. You have a reputation and I don't want to get hurt. What if you have another girl? What if last night didn't mean anything to you?" You voice your thoughts. It's a drawl, you think. Either your friendship is ruined forever, or you let him break your heart in silence.
He steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "I've known you since childhood, you think I'd use you like that?" His voice is soft, filled with seriousness you rarely hear from him. You don't respond. You know that he wouldn't do that, don't you?
"Last night wasn't just some fling. It meant everything to me. You mean everything to me. I love you." That got you to look up at him.
"But you've never said anything." "I just realized," he answers honestly. "I know that you probably don't believe me." His hand comes up to cup your cheek, "Just give me some time. Let's figure this out together."
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Reo woke up with a warm sensation spreading through his chest. He blinked sleepily, his gaze shifting to the figure beside him. You looked so peaceful, your hair cascading down over the pillow in gentle waves. A soft smile curved his lips against your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone. The touch was gentle, reverent almost, as if he couldn't get enough of you.
He felt a surge of affection, a deep longing that bordered on obsession. You stirred, a small sound escaping your lips, and he couldn't help but smile wider. Being this close to you, sharing these intimate moments, filled with a sense of contentment he hadn't known before.
Your bodies are entwined, fitting together like puzzle pieces. He traced patterns on your skin, each touch a silent declaration of his affection.
As you both exchanged whispered words and soft laughter, he couldn't help but marvel at the connection you both share. It's more than the physical attraction; it's a bond that transcends words, a silent understanding that you belong together.
Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, forgetting the outside world exists. In this moment, all that matters is the warmth from your skin, the rhythm of your breaths syncing in perfect harmony.
Reo knows he's falling deeper, that this isn't just a fleeting attraction. You've become his everything, a beacon of light in his dull world. And as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion, he couldn't help but feel grateful for every moment with you.
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As the morning light filters through the curtains, Chigiri finds himself waking up next to you. The memories of last night flood back, filling him with a warm sense of contentment. He can't help but smile as he recalls how you finally confessed your feelings to him, through drunken words and moans.
Your peaceful sleeping face is a sight to behold, and he can't resist reaching out to gently brush a strand of your hair away. The way you sleepily smile makes his heart race with affection. It's moments like this that make him realize just how much he cares for you.
As he lies there, basking in the afterglow of your shared intimacy, he can't help but reflect on how far you've both come. From the first day you helped him with his leg injury to volunteering to monitor and do regular check-ups at Blue Lock, your bond has only grown stronger.
He knows this is just the beginning of something intimate between you two. With you by Chigiri's side, he feels like he can conquer anything. And as he watches you stir awake, a smile playing on your lips, he knows that he wouldn't want it any other way.
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As the morning sun filters through the curtains, you find yourself waking up beside Rin. The soft warmth of his body against yours reminds you of the night before, where passion and tenderness intertwined in a dance only lovers could understand.
Rin stirs beside you, his eyes fluttering to meet yours. There's a moment of hesitation, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions between you. Then, with a gentle smile, he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.
"You're still here," he murmurs, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and relief.
You nod your head, not knowing if you should leave or not. "Yeah." Rin immediately notices your tone mixed with uncertainty and hesitation. "I know I said some things before...about you distracting me from soccer," he begins, his gaze searching yours for understanding.
Your eyes trail down to his hand, his fingers climbing onto your hand. "You're passionate about soccer, Rin. I know that. But you don't get to shut out everything else. We can find a balance."
He exhales slowly as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. "I want that, too." He admits, pulling you closer into a warm embrace.
The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing and gentle rustles of movement as Rin lays his head on your chest. He hums in contentment when he hears the sound of your heartbeat. And with each shared whisper of love and longing, it becomes clear that despite his initial reluctance, he's fully committed to making things work between you.
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shadowlali · 3 months
Text
(8) missed calls
COD AU - Phillip Graves x fem!reader
[18+] summary: Phillip reminds you why you should always answer your phone. wc: 1.4k masterlist
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warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance (reader can lay across Phillip's lap), pre-established relationship, references to drinking alcohol, pet names (sugar, babydoll, good girl), possessive!graves, mean!graves, spanking, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie
a/n: Phillip likes to spank reader, idk what else to say.
“Count f’me, sugar.” 
“N–no, Phillip. Please–” 
He lands a swift slap, slap to your left cheek, causing you to pitch forward in his lap. 
“It wasn’t a question. Count.” 
Phillip roughly molds your cheek in his hand, then switches to the right. You’re lying sideways in his lap with your face pressed into the couch cushions. Your skirt is flipped up and the tiny panties you wear do nothing to hide your ass from his eyes and wandering hands. 
In a swift movement, Phillip pulls his hand back and slaps your right cheek over and over and over again. 
“O—one,” you cry, “two, thr—three!” 
“If only you’d answered my call, sugar. You wouldn’t be in this mess,” Phillip murmurs. “I’d have you spread out on my bed, lapping at your pretty cunt until you were begging me to stop.”
You moan, squirming in his lap as you feel his erection poke your side. “Please, please. I’m so sorry, Phillip!” 
He presses a hand to your lower back to keep you from moving and uses his other hand to drag one finger up and down your panty-covered slit. The gusset of your white panties are soaked through and you’re sure he can see the outline of your pussy. 
Phillip can be so mean to you sometimes. Really, all you did was ignore him for just a little while. And sure, you went out with your girlfriends to a few different bars and you accepted a drink from some random guy, but only because Phillip was the one to ignore you first. Eight missed phone calls and a few text messages isn’t that bad, right? 
He hasn’t touched you in over two months because he’s been spending so much time at base. How were you supposed to know that he had planned a romantic evening to make it up to you? How were you supposed to know that he has a tracker installed in your phone that tells him exactly where you are every minute of the day so he can find you and pick you up from wherever you are? 
Phillip lands another four successive slaps to your ass, landing one right between your spread thighs. 
“Seven!” 
“Oh,” he coos condescendingly, “good girl. Taking it so well, aren’t you?” 
Another three more harsh slaps and he finally stops. You’re dizzy in his hold, trembling and grinding your hips into his lap. Your ass is on fire and your cunt feels so empty. 
“Should I keep going? Or have you learned your lesson?” 
“N–no,” you whine. “I’ve–I’ve learned my lesson.” 
Phillip yanks your drenched panties to the side and roughly thrusts two fingers into your drippy, little hole. Your back arches at the stretch and your walls quickly strangle his fingers. 
“Jesus,” Phillip whispers, “I should spank ‘ya more often.” 
He blows cool air on your heated skin, roughly scissoring his fingers into your pussy. “What was your lesson, sugar?” 
You can barely hear his question, too busy with the blood rushing in your ears and the orgasm that coils in your core. God, do you love it when he spanks you. 
“W–what?”
Phillip removes his fingers and lands another slap to your pussy. “Do I need to spank you again, babydoll? I asked, what was your lesson?” 
“Oh! To always ans–answer your calls!” 
“Good girl,” he murmurs, fucking his fingers back into you. “I need to know you’re okay when I call or text you.”
You spread your thighs as much as you can while laying on his lap. So close, so close, so close, you chant in your head. But Phillip knows your body too well, he can feel the fluttering of your walls and can hear the whimpers of pleasure escaping your pretty mouth. He slows down his fingers then pulls them out to lightly rub over your slit, only briefly tapping your swollen clit. 
“You have fun with your friends tonight?” 
You lift your head slightly from the couch to mumble a barely coherent yes. 
“Any boys try to talk to ‘ya?” 
You think about lying, but decide against it, knowing Phillip has ears and eyes everywhere. “Yes.” 
His fingers press harder on your clit in fast little circles. “You pay any attention to them? Accept their drinks?” 
“Ju–just one, just one drink,” you cry out. 
Phillip spits, landing a glob of saliva right at your entrance. He slides in his thumb, keeping it still while his index and middle finger continue to rub circles on your sensitive bud. 
“Those boys probably thought they’d get to take you home, didn’t they? Strip you outta your tight clothes and fuck you all night,” Phillip mutters, “but instead you’re here, humping and crying on your boyfriend’s lap while he finger-fucks you silly, ain’t that right?” 
His accent always gets deeper when he’s aroused, excited. And it drives you crazy. The damn in your core bursts and suddenly you’re cumming, pushing your face into the couch and digging your fingers into the cushions. 
“Yeah,” Phillip groans, seeing the juices squirt from your pussy, “only I get to see you like this. Gushing n’ making a mess on my jeans.” 
You move your hips in short jerks, trying to fuck yourself on his thumb while also trying to get away from the fingers at your clit. He doesn’t let you, keeping a firm hand on your lower back while he gives you exactly what you deserve. You claw at the couch, whimpering as you become more and more deliciously numb. 
“No more, no more,” you chant. 
“Shh, that’s enough. No more crying,” he gently scolds as he removes his fingers. 
You don’t know how long you lay there, feeling completely limp. He massages your bottom, running his hands over the soft globes of your ass while you rest. 
“Alright, babydoll. On the floor, come on.” 
You manage to shakily sink to the floor with Phillip’s help. You think he might want a blowjob but instead he has you press your cheek to the soft rug and arch your back. Phillip yanks your panties down but not all the way, keeping them halfway down your thighs. You shiver, knowing your cunt is going to take another pounding, but this time, from his cock. 
“If you could see yourself right now,” Phillip moans, unzipping his jeans and palming his thick length, “all glistening and ready f’me.” 
He runs the tip of his mushroom head up and down your slit until he gently presses into you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel him slowly thrust into your cunt, stretching your tight walls around his cock. 
“Fuck, babydoll. Such a sweet little pussy.” Phillip stays still, gripping your waist with both hands. “I planned such a nice night for us,” he says, slowly sliding out, “I was–I was gonna fuck you slow and gentle.” His fingers dig into your skin as he watches his cock become messy with your juices. “Now I gotta fuck you like this, punish you for making me worry.”
And oh, what delicious punishment it is. Phillip’s hips lunge forward as the thread of self control snaps. Your hands can’t grab onto anything, they can only claw at the rug while you take each rough slap of his hips. Drool pools out of your open mouth and onto the rug, forming a tiny wet spot. 
He guides you back onto him, forces your hips to meet him halfway with each of his thrusts. Phillip manages to hit the angle just right, bumping the spongy spot inside of you. You don’t think you can come twice, but the familiar heat pools in your lower tummy.
“Y–you look so pretty, sugar,” Phillip stutters, “always look so pretty.” 
He slides his hand around your waist to strum at your clit. You whine, trying to escape his hold, still too sensitive from your first orgasm. But he keeps you pressed to him, don’t you dare, he reprimands. 
Phillips hips snap faster and faster, impaling you roughly on his cock. He’s close to cumming, his thrusts becoming more and more sloppy by the minute. 
“N–need, fuck, another one from you,” he whimpers. “Gonna fill you full of me.” 
All it takes is another swipe on your clit and your cumming, squeezing around his length and squirting slick juices down your thighs. He thrusts, once, twice, and then swells, pulsing hot cum into your cunt. Your back arches and your mouth opens in a silent scream, riding the high of your orgasm while he fucks you. 
You milk him for everything he’s got, choking his cock in your heat while he whimpers above you. He’s probably overstimulated and sensitive at this point, but he doesn’t stop until his balls are completely empty.
Phillip slowly slides out, balancing on his knees to slide your panties back up, trapping his cum in your pussy. He turns and falls to the floor unceremoniously, tugging you partially on top of him. 
You doze off in his warm arms, realizing how fun his punishments can be. 
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majestyjun · 10 months
Note
crying sobbing thinking ab size training w soobin I NEED IT :'c
lol i think we all need it ahaha
soobin’s… really big. and god, he adores size training,,, more than he thought he would. cute legs spread apart in his lap, chest pressed to your back as he leans over your shoulder, heavy bulge pressed to your ass and lower back as a constant reminder,,, gonna have to fit him all the way, doll~~ his low voice whispering, asking for permission,,, pretty, open up for me? shhh, don’t be scared… have to make you fit me,,, long fingers slowly tracing your clothed folds through the thin material of your panties, pressing in ever so gently, a slight smile on his lips as he feels. is this okay? soobin murmurs as he slides down your panties,,, not waiting for an answer, fingers pressing against your bare pussy, wet arousal slick on his skin.
fuck, he exhales, a dizzying rush of euphoria as he feels your breath hitch in your chest, the way you tremble at his touch,,, he’s addicted. one finger pushing past your folds, warm wet skin clenching down, pretty thighs tightening around his hand,,, only one finger, doll, soobin murmurs in your ear. slowly pushing in and out, drunk on cute whimpers and cries at the foreign sensation between your legs,,, curling at your sweet spot,,, and god, he can’t help but fantasize about how pretty you’d cry as his cock pushes into your tight cunt, writhe and cling to him tighter as you sob he won’t fit over and over,,, blood rushing to his crotch,,, have to resist fucking you too soon <3
and soobin who slowly leads you to your first orgasm on his fingers,,, two fingers soaked in your release as your chest heaves with cries,,, so good for me, he murmurs, fingers resting on your plush thigh as he gives a gentle caress,,, think you can give me another? and in minutes he’ll have you cradled in his arms, sugar sweet kisses laced with moans, as his fingers curl against your sweet spot, buried to the knuckle in your soaking cunt <3 one after another, until your cheek are stained in tears and whimpering you can’t take another, his cock straining tightly against his sweats at the sight, so pretty and delicate <3 to know he’s only the one who stretch you out,,, your innocence addictive like a drug~~
soft sheets against your back, his wet fingers laced through yours,,, god, he feels in love, your swollen pussy dripping on his sheets, pretty face streaked with tears and eyes all hazy,,, can’t help but fantasize how fucked out n pretty you’ll be once you’ve taken his cock <3 saccharine kisses on your lips, shhh, know you can do it, soobin whispers, stroking himself as he restrains a hiss at the painfully stiff sensation,,, and his heavy groan of restraint as his cock pushes in. big hands locking your wrists down against the sheets, sloppy kisses barely distracting from the painful stretch, groaning swears against your lips between gasping breaths, fuck, so tight–nnngh! and soobin who could cum at just the sensation of your warm cunt clenching down on his cock so tightly, feeling your smaller body writhe under his restraining grip, desperate cries begging him for more even as you’re crying,,, biting his lip to maintain a semblance of conscious control and restraint,,, because god, all he wants is to fuck your tight, warm pussy until swollen and leaking his cum <3 surely… you can take him,,, right? even if it’s your first time,,, he can make himself fit,,, all the way.
sorry i am really holding back from writing soobin fucking you dumb on his cock n using u like a cocksleeve n cumslut LOL ;-; maybe too toxic to write it that way—
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Text
Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r
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✩ previous part | next part ✩
summary: The BAU rushes to Washington after discovering that the lead singer of a famous band may be in danger, causing Spencer to come face to face with his past after 15 years.
general warnings: this series contains topics such as mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers.
chapter warnings: this chapter contains mentions of murder, vomiting, mistreatment, as well as the use of strong vocabulary. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.
words: 4,269 words.
a/n: hello! here i come with the second chapter of "boy wonder and the rockstar", i had fun writing this chapter as i also suffered from lack of creativity ( T T ), but finally inspiration touched me. I hope you like it. Remember to read the chapter cautions and have a good read.! English is not first language, so I may have mistakes, if so, I'm sorry. :(
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𝟎.𝟐: 𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫.
For many people, memories that are related to times in their lives relate to certain aspects of the five senses, whether it's certain sounds or textures, music that brings them back to that exact memory, or simply tastes of foods that remind them of what their loved ones used to make.
For Spencer, it was smells.
Despite possessing a memory that makes him remember even the smallest detail of what happened the day before, his olfactory memory was much more developed than other senses.
During his childhood, or what he considers childhood, his memories smelled of the pages of old books that his mother read to him and her perfume, impregnated in the bed sheets when they sat together to read some classic of literature. When he was in his youth, sometimes the smells reminded him of the charcoal in his pencil, writing mathematical exercises on white sheets, or sometimes the smell of chlorine, because of the thousand times bullies forced him to go to the bathroom.
But during his college days, he always thought that the smell that would be his favorite was the soft smell of the library, of wood and humidity; but no, those memories had the smell of freshly brewed coffee, cherries and menthol cigarettes.
His good memories always brought smiles to his face in the middle of nowhere, as if he was remembering one of those old bad jokes they used to tell him and he couldn't find the humor in them, or maybe the less thought out answers to such logical questions. His good memories caused his stomach to clench tightly and his chest to feel heavy, as if a stone was replacing his heart.
Spencer knew why. Why his body felt that way.
But he didn't want to admit why.
Because if he admitted it, he knew the only reason he did would make him regret it, he would have to give reason to his sentimental side than the rational side.
And he hated not being right.
"Spence."
J.J.'s voice brought the boy back to his desk, taking his eyes off the nearly iced coffee with a pound of sugar to keep him awake.
He'd been daydreaming about Y/N's laughter in his ear for nights now, just like when they had sleepovers at her apartment. He couldn't get her out of his head, let alone get the smell out of her hair when she was the small spoon.
"What, what's going on?" the opposite replied, looking at the blonde. She seemed to be trying to decipher what was going on in her friend's head.
"I'm asking you, is something wrong, are you sleeping well?"
"Yes." Bullshit.
"Are you sure? Your eyes say otherwise." The black circles under his eyes gave him away.
"I've been sleepless for a few days, but it's because my neighbors won't let me sleep." Another bullshit.
"You should talk to them, you know." The boy nodded, giving the blonde an elongated smile and returning to his paperwork.
"Really all right?"
"Yeah, J.J. It's fine."
"'S okay, you know what you can tell me."
"Yes J.J., thank you."
The answer didn't leave the blonde satisfied, but she made an extraordinary effort to ignore his attitude and return to the desk with Luke and Matt, who had been staring at him for a couple of minutes.
"He's rambling again." Commented J.J as she returned, who kept her eyes on her best friend and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.
It was usual at this time of year, when the leaves were beginning to turn their last summer colors, that Spencer would go blank staring at a spot in the room more than once.
No one quite understood why that happened to him, the only one who knew was Gideon. But he never shared any of Spencer's secrets, not even if a gun was held to his chest.
"Guess whateee, my dear friends!" The conversation was interrupted by a cheerful and enthusiastic Penelope, who commanded everyone's attention with her sonorous voice.
"What's going on, Garcia?" Luke turned to see her, who was coming with an envelope in her hand.
"Your genius did it again, rub the wishing lamp and I got tickets to the best concert of the year - Paradox in Virginia! Can you believe it?"
"You got them!?" J.J. was the first to startle, coming closer to see the tickets for the most anticipated concert of the year.
"That's right, my dear friend! A girls' night out to see Paradox. You, me, Emily and Tara."
"No way, god. I'll talk to Will and rest assured I'll be ready for that night." J.J smiled hugging her friend's arm.
"What's Paradox...?" muttered Luke, causing Matt to turn to look at him. The poor Luke was trying to comprehend what his friends were talking about.
Was he too out of date on pop culture or were they speaking in some kind of secret code?
"Oh Luke, why did you ask that?" Matt shook his head, earning a glare from the blonde couple.
"What did you say, newbie, don't you know what Paradox is? Oh god, no way. I'll have to bring you up to date with a course on what today's music is right now, follow me." Penelope motioned to the boy, who turned to see Matt who was lifting his shoulders laughing.
"No Penelope, you're not going anywhere. We have a case, and it's urgent. There's no time, meeting room now."
The rest of the people turned to look at each other, abiding by their boss's orders as they saw her so anxious and serious about a case.
That didn't look good at all.
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The adrenaline and euphoria of last night's show, plus the last two dates, had been enough of a stimulant for Y/N to fall asleep in bed once they arrived at the hotel. Her whole body was exhausted, and at that moment all she wanted was some chamomile tea and a thousand hours of sleep.
She loved her job, of course she did! But she was mentally and physically exhausted from giving almost 15 concerts without a break, from one state to another, with more cups of coffee and energizers in her body than times where her eyes closed to sleep.
And the only time she found peace and quiet was when her body was being moved from one location to another, so, at that moment, her body was resting in the comfortable seat of the SUV after being driven to an interview and returned to the hotel to rest.
She felt her limbs meld with the seat, feeling like she was in heaven itself where her muscles all over her body were relaxing after days.
Her peace didn't last long when she heard a soft call.
"Psss, Y/N."
The, now, blonde heard the call from Felix, also known as the band's drummer and her best friend.
"What? You ruin my beauty nap."
"What did one wall say to the other?"
Y/N could hang him right then and there.
More the tiredness in her body made her think, trying to devise the best answer to get him to leave her alone.
"What?"
"I'll meet you at the corner."
"I'm having the biggest self-control to not kill you because you just interrupted the only moment of peace I've had these past three months, asshole."
"You haven't been able to sleep?"
Y/N denied with her eyes closed, desperate to get back to her attempt at sleep.
"Not a single moment, I woke up three times last night and that was the best attempt at sleep I've ever had."
"Your pills aren't working?"
"They're placebos, they won't make my body calm down just like that and go back to my eight hour sleep cycle that I'd had for the last two years without touring." The young woman opened one eye, looking at her friend. "I just have to get used to it, I have to get back to the cycle of excitement I used to have when it was tour after tour."
"Maybe if we talk about that thing that bothers you-"
"No way."
Y/N knew what he meant, knew it was talking about a certain doctor who gave her goosebumps every time she thought about him and took her back to her college days.
Why was she still thinking about him? It had been almost 15 years since they last spoke.
Y/N looked at the date on her phone.
No, she was wrong.
It had been 15 years since they last spoke.
Today was 15 years since she had received the last letter from Spencer with her name written on it.
The last time she felt the smell of his perfume on the sheets and his ugly doctor's handwriting on a sheet of paper.
The last time she saw written "wherever you are, whatever you do or whoever you are with, you are always on my mind and in my heart, Y/N."
Last time she saw written "Love from Quantico, dr. Spencer Reid. I'm also known as your #1 fan, but only you know that."
Was that the reason she hadn't slept well that night? Yes.
Was that the reason she hadn't slept well for that last week? Yes.
Was that the reason why, every time she closed her eyes, she saw him smile? Yes.
Was she going to admit it? No.
Never.
"Y/N..."
"I don't want to talk about it, Felix. Don't insist."
"But, Y/N-"
"Let it go, Felix. Really, don't insist." Tyler's voice made Felix turn to look at him angrily.
Tyler and Shawn, the guitarist and bassist respectively, shook their heads and made an "X" symbol with their fingers, muttering at the same time "don't do it, don't be stupid."
"Enough kids, let it go. In two days we have a very important concert to give in Seattle, so I don't want any fights."
"You heard him, Felix." Y/N smiled opening her eyes, looking in the direction of Gerald, her manager.
Thank you, Y/N murmured in the man's direction.
Gerald just raised his shoulders, noticing how the van parked.
"Okay, down."
Tyler and Shawn were the first to get out, followed by Y/N and then Felix.
Felix hated to come off as meddling in Y/N's life, so whenever he meddled too much in the girl's life, he simply knew that seeking forgiveness from her was his best option.
"Sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to insist."
"It's okay, Felix. I know you meant no harm, but I don't want to talk about it."
"And when will you?"
"I don't know, I guess when I'm ready."
"It's been 15 years, Y/N."
"I know, but I'm still not read-"
"Miss Autumn?"
Y/N turned to see the receptionist, who was holding a package.
"A package has arrived for you."
"Thank you, do you know who brought it?"
"No miss, I'm sorry."
"No worries, thanks again."
Y/N received it, walking to the elevator along with Felix after seeing how the package had a sticker on it that said "express delivery."
"What did you order, compulsive shopper?" Gerald turned to look at her, causing Y/N to deny in confusion.
"Nothing that I know of, I promise."
"Maybe it's a collaboration, Tiffany's already started putting the ads with your face all over it." Shawn smiled, elbowing the arm of the store's new ambassador.
"A gift for you to occupy at the next gig." Gerald replied, nodding softly as he looked down at his phone.
The box was small and covered in the typical plastic they place around it. Compact enough to drop a set of jewelry on behalf of the brand, but it seemed odd that it came directly and without warning.
The group made their way to the small meeting room where they had set up everything they needed, ready to hear the itinerary Gerald had prepared for them about their upcoming events.
Y/N's fingers went to open the package once it was placed on the table, watching as  the "Tiffany & Co." logo on its little sky blue box.
"Okay guys, tomorrow you have rehearsal from noon until three in the afternoon, then you'll have an interview on a radio station near the sta-"
A beautiful gold ring with a navy blue gem in the middle was the first thing that caught the young woman's eye, perfect for the occasion. But it was heavier than usual.
"Then you can go eat and rest, we'll still have dress rehearsal, so you can get ready-"
A shout coming from Y/N deafened the group of people, causing them all to look in her direction.
Her skin was as white as paper, her eyes fixed on the box she had just opened and her face with an expression of pure terror from an experimental horror movie.
All eyes went in the direction of the box, which Y/N felt like everything she had eaten that morning was going to spew out of her mouth right then and there.
"Shit."
The beautiful ring encircled something.
A human finger.
A human finger that stained the bottom of the box.
A human finger that was accompanied by a note.
"I hope you enjoy my gift, my sweet star. I made it just for you, good luck at the concert."
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"This morning at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Washington, the lead singer of the band Paradox received a package. Inside was a human finger with a ring on it." Emily was passing around the photographs that had been sent by the Washington police, it showed just what she had just described above. "According to the receptionist it was dropped off by someone from a package store. The police questioned him and he said it had arrived with yesterday's load of packages."
"From where?" Luke asked.
"They don't know, they collect packages from all over the country so they don't know where it came from. They're looking for the tracking code of the branch they sent it from."
"How grotesque, who would send such a thing to an artist like her?" Tara looked at Emily, who sighed.
"But what do we have to do with this case?" Rossi looked at his tablet, zooming in on the picture of the ring.
"The DNA results came back to find out whose finger it is." A photograph of a stranger appeared on the TV screen. "He is Bruno Colombo, an Italian artist and the owner of that finger. We just got word that his lifeless body was found in his art studio."
"He's Autumn's ex-fiancé." Penelope commented, surprised at all that was going on. "In 2016, he and Autumn got engaged after dating for two years, but after a few months it was discovered that the engagement ended after Autumn discovered him and an art gallery owner having sex in his studio. According to him he did it because he wanted to make an exhibition that would portray Autumn's true feelings, and this way he could see her feeling of anger and sadness. There are still people who idolize him for that."
"What a jerk." Matt muttered.
"And how come no one noticed his absence?"
" According to this, he was isolating himself when he was setting up exhibits so it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to suddenly disappear."
Spencer felt his heart pounding, why would he get like this over a clear case of a stalker obsessing over a music star?
It's not like he even knew her.
"Apparently, this relates to a series of related cases over ten years that the only common element is this band, Paradox. No one has ever linked them before as none of the modes of operation are the same, the only factor that unites them is the viciousness with which they are carried out and the band, of course." Emily sighed, showing the various faces and deaths that surrounded them.
"Race or religion has nothing to do with it, it seems neither does gender." Spencer commented, quickly reading each of the bodies found. "But it looks like they all had an encounter with the band or one of the members. From 2008 when the first body was found until now."
"The director asked us to take on this case, the level of this band is insane and it seems to be going against the vocalist, Autumn. They are currently on a world tour after two years of no activity, plus not much is known about her in general." Emily turned to look at Penelope. "Garcia, you're joining us on this trip. You serve us better back in Washington than you do here at Quantico. Reid and Lewis will go meet the M.E., the rest of us will go to the station and then we'll all go to the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, we'll meet the band and their manager." The whole group was surprised, especially Penelope who held a surprised expression. "Wheels up in 30."
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Y/N always thought that the whole thing about having human parts shipped to you in a box was part of fiction. At best, news fiction.
But what she had just experienced was surreal.
Her body was shaking with a cup of tea in her hands, feeling her hands stinging around the cup.
"Who the fuck would send something like that to Y/N? No one we know is capable of doing anything to her, they would fuck up their careers if they were exposed like that." Tyler turned, annoyed, in the direction of Y/N. "Who did this to you, are you hiding something from us?"
"No, Tyler. I'm not hiding anything, why would I hide the fact that someone sent me a fucking human part on my name to a hotel in the middle of our comeback tour? You're blaming me for something, huh? Tell me to my fucking face, Tyler."
Y/N stood up in exasperation, letting the hot water spill onto the floor.
"I don't know, you tell me, Y/N. If you got sent a finger."
"Go straight to hell, Tyler. Right straight up." Commented the girl raising her middle finger.
"Enough! Both of you." Gerald's loud voice interrupted them, separating the band's strong personalities. "Right now we can't fight. They just sent a fucking human finger to Y/N, we can't get mad about that, we should be worried."
"Finally someone with sense." Y/N sat back down, setting the cup aside.
"What are they seeing so much of us, why aren't they doing anything? They should be looking for the person responsible." Felix got up walking towards the officers, being stopped by Shawn.
"Hey, they're doing the best they can. If we go in there and raise our voices, we're going to hinder the investigation, don't be a dickhead."
"Damn it, this can't be happening." Y/N stood up, starting to walk over to her purse to pull out a cigarette and place it between her teeth.
"You can't smoke in here, Y/N." Gerald's warning went in one ear to the girl and out the other, flicking her lighter. "Y/N."
"What, look at the shit we're in, I just got sent a fucking human finger from who-knows-who and you're asking me to keep my cool!? I can't! There's a crazy person out there sending me that shit with 'nice words'." The girl threw the lighter at who-knows-where, finding herself on the verge of an anxiety attack. "Don't fuck around and leave me alone to have a smoke, Gerald."
The group fell back into the same silence that surrounded them four hours ago, letting the cigarette smoke flood their nostrils.
They were desperate, they needed to get to the root of this.
Y/N knew it. Right now she was the eye of the hurricane, who that box and message were addressed to; the same person who had sent her that, had taken it upon himself to send her flowers and letters with the same nickname, "my sweet star."
At first she thought it was nice, of course it's nice when you get your favorite flowers along with letters of good cheer and best wishes, but it's not nice when you get a gift like today's.
But her attitude would get her nowhere, she was annoyed and exasperated, but they didn't deserve that kind of treatment.
"I'm sorry, but this is too much for me, I can't handle this alone and my attitude isn't helping anything. " Y/N commented, taking her eyes off her cigarette and looking at the people closest to her. "We should be in this together."
"I'm sorry, kid. I got upset that I couldn't help you, that you didn't know who sent you that." Tyler sighed, giving the girl a rueful smile.
"Don't worry about it, Ty. I'm really sorry, everyone."
The girl took another puff on her cigarette, letting the minty flavor cool her lungs.
"The FBI is here."
The announcement made everyone look at each other, taking their last breaths and letting Y/N finish what she was doing, the only thing keeping her sane at that moment.
"I'll see you downstairs, okay?" Felix left a kiss on the young woman's forehead, taking his leave to get on the elevator.
Y/N found herself alone in the room, again feeling disgust rise in her throat. She couldn't get the image of that package out of her mind, how was someone capable of writing those sweet words and sending something as grotesque as that.
The girl's hands gently stroked her cheeks, waking up and she shook her head. She would make one last stop to the bathroom before heading downstairs, so she could go more consciously for who-knows-what things would make her talk.
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The BAU met up with a group of people who, thanks to the way Penelope was getting excited, could be sure it was Paradox.
All along the way, Spencer had listened to Garcia's theories and who it could have been. He loved listening to her talk, but his head was somewhere else, somewhere else but there.
Something inside him sensed something, something he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was his thoughts of the past that had been running through him since morning.
"Agent Prentiss, I'm Gerald Murphy, the manager of Paradox." The man shook hands with the woman, who was looking over his shoulder at three people. "These are the members of the band: Tyler, Shawn and Felix."
The three let out a wave into the air, giving them a smile of sorts.
Spencer knew they weren't entirely happy they were there, he read it in their body language.
"I understand there are four of you in the band, here I see three." Emily looked directly into Gerald's eyes.
"Yeah, Autumn, the vocalist, is upstairs finishing something. But she's coming down now, right?" Felix nodded, watching the FBI agents.
Felix crossed glances with Spencer, feeling that familiar air from somewhere.
Spencer felt that familiar air too, but maybe he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.
"Please, let's go somewhere more private. That way we can talk more quietly."
Gerald motioned to the three men, who plunged inside the room, followed by everyone else.
The BAU settled down in front of the four people seated on the couches.
"If you like, we can wait for Miss Autumn." Emily glanced at the group, all of whom nodded.
"It's for the best, she's the most affected." Felix looked in the direction of Tyler and Shawn, who simply nodded in unison.
"You've never received anything like this before?" Luke directed his question at the group of people, causing Tyler to let out a sarcastic laugh.
"You think that's a normal thing to receive, a human finger? Please, be realistic."
"Tyler, shut up." Shawn motioned, slapping the young man's knee.
"That's a stupid question of his, since when is getting shit like that going to be normal?"
"Tyler!" Shawn gave him a stern look, turning his gaze back to Luke. "I'm sorry, we're touchy about this that just happened."
"My question was out of line, it's my fault." Luke admitted, turning to look at the rest.
"When is Autumn getting here?" Felix's question seemed to work magic, smelling her best friend's signature scent.
A strong smell of cherries and menthol tobacco made Spencer shake his head.
It wasn't time to remember Y/N, it wasn't time to focus on something like that.
It felt like his head was playing a joke on him, as if she was suddenly here. But the smell didn't go away, in fact, it intensified to the point that Spencer could feel his head hurting.
"Sorry I'm late."
Spencer felt his entire body freeze, as if he were turning into an ice cube.
The voice he thought he would never hear again.
The voice that escaped so much in his dreams.
He could hear it there, like an echo in his head.
His head turned, catching the figure that had just entered with some haste.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Autu-"
"Y/N."
The girl looked up, meeting Spencer's hazel eyes.
No way, Y/N thought.
Her heart stopped, as did the time around her.
Standing in front of her was a much older and mature Spencer Reid, but with that same lotion that made her dizzy.
The woman's mouth opened slightly, feeling the air in her lungs catch and no words came out of her mouth.
Her lip quivered, her pulse altered.
"Spencer."
Oh fate, how cruel did you have to be?
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If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.
a lot of love, alme. ❀
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widowbitessting · 8 months
Text
Sugar Mommies Season 2, Pt:6
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Polite Reminder That All My Work - Especially For Sugar Mommies - Is 18+! Minors Do Not Interact.
“Hey darling, are you busy?”
You look up at Carol with a glare, pink barbie toothbrush in your sweaty palm; white bristles blackened from the grout you were being made to clean. 
You bite back the urge to swear at her, instead opting to force a toothy smile to your face. 
“Not really no, why?”
Carol, ever so smug, leans against the door frame with her arms crossed. 
“Are you sure, kitten? You seemed hard at work when I came in.”
“What do you want, Carol?” You can’t help the bite in your words. 
You’re really not in the mood.
“Oh stop pouting, princess; you earned this punishment yourself.”
She may have a point there. 
Carol continues on, “I warned you not to push me. And what did you do?”
“I didn’t listen, obviously.”
“Lose the attitude or I’ll have you clean the sidewalk too.”
“…sorry.”
A raised eyebrow makes you continue your apology. 
“Sorry Captain, I’ll stop being a brat.”
“There’s my good girl.” Carol crouches in front of you, balancing perfectly on the tip of her toes. You really have to fight the temptation to push her over. 
God. Your inner brat is thriving. 
“Tell me, my good thing. When do your classes finish?”
You brush some loose strands of hair from your glistening forehead. 
“Finish? For break?” 
“No love, when do you finish for the weekend?” 
“Oh!” 
“And did I say you could stop working? You’re still in your punishment, darling.” 
You automatically go back to scrubbing, pushing the bristles of the toothbrush into the cracks between the tiles a little more harder than needed.
“Answer the question, baby. I know that dumb brain struggles to comprehend simple questions sometimes but c’mon; I know you can do it.” 
“I…” You have to wrack your brain to think, “Wednesday. I think. I’m sure my Friday classes are cancelled.” 
“Think you can find out before the end of the day for me baby girl?” 
You look up at Carol and nod. 
“Sure. Why the rush?”
“I’m thinking of whisking you away after your last class until Monday. Does that sound good?” 
“A holiday?” 
“A mini one, yes.” 
You jump up and grab Carol into a hug, toothbrush clattering to the floor behind you.
She wraps her arms firmly around you.
“Where are we going?” 
“Do you really want me to tell you or do you want it to be a surprise?”
You don’t do well with surprises. 
At all.
“Just tell me!” You pause. “Please.” 
“Such a good girl, using her manners.” Carol presses a kiss to your nose. “I’m taking you to go and see Nat and Wanda.” 
You squeal so loudly you’re sure only dogs can hear it. 
Carol seems to be prepared for it as she doesn’t wince, instead choosing to grin down at you. 
You’re all but vibrating with excitement.
“We’re going to see them?!”
“Yes, sugar. Thought the news would cheer you up. Get you to stop pouting.”
“I wasn’t…” You trail off, fighting the urge to push out your bottom lip.
“Yes you were, my darling. Such a pouty little baby, hmm?”
She’s doing this deliberately. 
You’re already in trouble - your current predicament proves this - and Carol probably has another two, if not three, punishments already thought out. 
You’re really stumped at how to reply. 
Mercifully, Carol decides she has toyed with you enough.
“How about this: the sooner you finish your punishment, the sooner you can speak to Natasha and Wanda. I’m about to go and call them to discuss our trip…it’d be a shame if you were too busy pouting and being grumpy to speak to them, wouldn’t it?” 
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Get scrubbing, little girl.” 
“But I’ve only done half!” 
“Scrub fast.” 
She leaves you and the bathroom and you can only stare after her.
A second later, you hear her shout, “They have a present for you too, bunny!”
You perk up at the mere mention of a gift. 
“A present?” You call out, peering out of the doorway as Carol saunters away.
“Mhm. although, if you’re not there on the call with them then they might just return it…” 
You know she’s lying.
Heck, a toddler would be able to tell she’s lying. 
“You’re bluffing.” 
Carol turns to look at you. 
Her face is smug. 
So.
Freaking.
Smug.
“Try me sugar; see where that gets you.”
*
It’s safe to say, you never want to clean grout ever again. 
Your knees are throbbing, back sore like an 80 year old woman who's worked every day of her life; and you’ve cracked enough nails to know that Carol can pay for your next manicure appointment. 
You might even throw a pedicure and a chiropractic appointment in there too. 
But does that stop you barrelling out of the bathroom at full speed, with the toothbrush clattering behind you?
No. 
It does not. 
When you stumble into the room, Carol is saying her goodbyes and is about to press the hang up button.
“I’m here!”
“Timing on that, baby girl; you almost lost your present.”
You go to tear her phone from her hand but Carol moves it just out of your reach.
“Say please.”
“Please, Captain.”
“Good girl,” she pecks your cheek and hands you the phone. “You talk to them and I’ll inspect your work. Make sure you didn’t cheat and take any shortcuts.”
“I’m offended you’d ever assume I’d do that.”
The smirk on your face makes Carol roll her eyes and tap your nose. 
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Okay! The bathroom is glistening.” You say. “Take your shoes off!”
The faint “No!” has you giggling as you place Carol’s phone against your ear.
“Hi!”
“Well hello, naughty girl.” Natasha’s voice fills your ear. 
Your smile is officially cemented to your face. 
“I -”
There really isn’t any point in denying it.
“Yeah.”
Natasha tuts at you. 
“My, my, what are we going to do with you, hmm? A good grout scrubbing is a fairly decent punishment…but I know for a fact if I asked you to FaceTime us right now…you’d be smiling. You haven’t learnt your lesson, have you, kitten?”
“…I have…kind of.”
“Mhm. That really is believable.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Then switch this to a FaceTime kitten. Prove me wrong.” 
Those final three words really are like the nail in your coffin. 
They grate down your bratty side, taunting and teasing you, and it makes your eye twitch. 
There’s no denying that Natasha did it purposely. 
In fact, you know she did. 
She knows how it works on you. 
Knows that you’ll be her good little submissive and do as she says.
Natasha knows you better than yourself at times.
Which is why, the second you press the FaceTime icon on the screen, you know you’ve made a huge mistake.
Natasha’s perfectly beautiful face comes into view, as does Wanda’s.
You can see them.
And they can see you.
Your eyes automatically lower in submission, smile sliding off your face. 
It doesn’t go unmissed by Natasha, eyebrow raising slightly as a smug smirk forms on her lips.
“Well, hello there, little brat.” 
“Hi…”
“Use my title.”
Your brain takes a second to buffer.
“Your…huh?” You risk a peek up and quickly look away again.
“My title. Just like I trained you to do.”
“...daddy.”
“Now use it in a sentence. Go on, kitten.” 
“..hi daddy.”
“There we go, pet. That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Natasha says, “we miss you, pumpkin.” 
All humiliation is quickly forgotten.
“I miss you two, too.” 
“But we will see you soon!” Wanda shouts, jumping up and down. “Wednesday, Carol says.”
“That’s in like 3 days!” You let out an excited squeal and flop down onto the bed, your h/c hair fanning out around your head. “I don’t think I can wait that long.” 
“Well there might be something to help…ease your tension, baby girl.” Natasha says. “Check under the bed for me?” 
You had completely forgotten about the gift.
“Oh!” 
You leave them on the bed as you dive underneath, snatching the gift bag before resurfacing with it clamped tightly in your hands. 
“I love presents!” 
“We know you do, baby.” Natasha smiles.
“Open it, I can’t wait to see what you think!” Ever Wanda the impatient one. 
You tear into, gift paper soaring over your head and as you reach into the bag, you tilt your head in confusion. 
“What is it?”
You inspect the wrapped package.
“It’s a toy.” Natasha says.
“A toy?” 
Looking back at this moment, you’re ashamed of how long it takes your brain to connect the dots and figure out what kind of toy it is. 
“What? Like a My Little Pony?” 
“No but it’s something else you can ride.” Wanda says with such a straight face, her joke washes over you.
“Oookay…” 
You tear the paper open and all but drop the box as if it electrocutes you, when your eyes see the word ‘g-spot’. 
“Oh my god.”
You’re red. Blushing crimson as you hastily cover your face and let out an embarrassed laugh. 
“You owe me $5.” Wanda says smugly. “I knew she wouldn’t act cocky.”
“Is that what I think it is?” You mumble, still hiding behind your hands.
“A sex toy?” Natasha says. “Yes, yes it is. We want you to try it out for us. Now.” 
That makes you peek up through your fingers. 
“Now?” 
“Yes, baby. Now. We haven’t had the time to play with you in so long. We miss you.” 
“I - I miss you but, on camera?” 
“You can do that for us, can’t you?” Natasha is staring at you. “If you’re uncomfortable, remember your signals, my love.”
“I - I’m okay, I just…”
“Shy?” Wanda asks. 
You look at the toy again and can’t help but smile in embarrassment. 
“...yeah…” 
“It’s just us, baby girl.” Wanda says. “You’re with us, you’re safe.” 
“Why don’t you open the box, hmm?” Natasha suggests, “have a look at what we got you.”
Your hands are shaking. 
Because why wouldn’t they?
The item is pink. 
Soft to touch, incredibly soft in fact. 
You keep the toy on your lap, so the two women watching you intently can’t see it.
“It’s big.” 
“It’ll fit, don’t worry. Once you’re worked up and ready to take it, it’ll fit.” 
“Can you read the name out for me?” Natasha asks.
You quickly look up and meet their eyes. 
“Why?”
“Because I’m selfish and I love to see my baby girl blush, that’s why.”
You push your face into your hands in an attempt to hide. 
“The G -” 
“Nu-uh.” Natasha stops you. “Let us see that beautiful face.” 
You shake your head.
“No?” 
You shake your head again.
“Look at me and say no. Go on, detka.” 
“I…can’t.”
“And why not?” 
“‘Cos…” 
“Wow, such a good reply. Stumped us there, baby girl.” Wanda’s reply makes you smirk, even though you try your hardest not to. 
“Now you’re ignoring orders?” Natasha’s voice wipes the smirk clean off your face. “Look at me and repeat what you said. Last chance, Y/N.”
“Hey!” Your head snaps up and you shoot the redhead a glare before quickly looking away. “Don’t full name me!” 
“She just did, sugar. Answer her. Now.”
You - somehow - manage to drag your eyes to Natasha and for one brief second, you hold her gaze.
And then quickly look down. 
Submitting. 
“That’s what I thought.” Natasha licks her lips. “Now show your doms your beautiful face so we can see that pretty little blush.”
You do as you’re told, even if your bottom lip is sticking out a little. 
“There she is.” Natasha smiles. “Our blushing beauty.” 
“I’m not b -” You sigh. “Okay, fine, I am.”
“And we love it.” Wanda says. “Think you can read it out for us?”
“Signal in, detka.” Natasha orders. 
“Green…I’m just…”
“Shy, we know, my love, we know. But you’re okay. If you don’t want to read it out you don’t have to.” 
“I want to. Believe me, I do.”
“Go for it then, sweetie. At your own pace.” 
“The…um…the G-Spot Massager…” 
“God, you’re such a good girl.” Natasha coos. “You did so well for us, honey.” 
“Do you think you wanna try it out for us?” Wanda asks. 
You meet their eyes.
“Yes.” 
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peachsayshi · 11 months
Note
peachy peachyyyyy, if you're up for it! could i request kiss #22 with Nanami? lord knows that man wouldn't have to do much to leave me hot and bothered 😭
₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 22. kisses that leave them all hot and bothered (102 types of kisses)
tags: sugar daddy nanami x reader (I just wrote this with them in mind but you don't have to read it as such); nudity; dirty talk; humping; scorching hot kisses; edging; fingering
notes: okay, I went a little overboard with this one hehe
nanami glances up at the mirror to take in your reflection. the corner of his mouth ticks into a smile, for whatever reason he likes the sight of you relaxing on his bed, resting comfortably on your stomach, snuggled in his terrycloth robe and mindlessly scrolling through your phone.
"I'm sorry you have to work this morning-" you speak, a heavy sigh of disappointment following your statement. you lock your screen like you know that his attention is solely on you, and place the device aside before resting your chin under your hands and shifting your gaze towards him.
"no rest for the wicked it seems" nanami replies, his smile spreading into a full grin when you finally catch his eye through the mirror. he turns on his heel, securing the cufflink around his wrist. "how do I look?" he asks.
you snag your pinky finger between your teeth, kicking your legs up and down and giving him a very obvious once over with twinkling eyes that make your lover's cheeks warm.
"you look good. really good."
he quirks his brow with amusement recognizing that something must be in the air that's feeding your mutual attraction for one another right now.
however, he still has to be careful, he can't risk getting caught in a turbulent current of a potentially compromising problem. but those worries subside quickly when you languidly shift your position so that you were seated properly instead.
"you like the new suit then?" he questions as he approaches the edge of the bed.
you giggle and his heart swells because your reactions, in every which way he can draw them out, enamor him.
"you look hot in anything you wear"
"likewise, darling."
his fingers find the knot around your waist, and you hold his gaze when he loosens the belt and pushes the fabric off your shoulders. you shimmy out of the material, exposing your perfectly naked form underneath. the robe falls to the bed, nanami reaches his hand to the slope of your neck, his thumb lightly tracking over the spots where he kissed you last night.
"I wish you didn't have to leave," you sigh into his touch, the dramatic reaction puzzling nanami for a moment. "I was looking forward to spending the morning with you."
your honesty sends a shooting arrow through his heart. nanami now resents answering the urgent phone call in his sleep, if he had just let it ring then there would be no reason for him to abandon his sanctuary behind the gates of heaven.
"I think you were just looking forward to having me cook you breakfast," he remarks with a sinfully flirtatious tone.
you stand up on your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your bare frame against his. your seductive aura washes over him, the heat of desire sandwiched between both your ribs, and it coaxes him into submission. when your soft lips finds his mouth, you deliver a innocent kiss that pokes at his fragility. a surge rushes between his legs, one of his hands sliding from your hip to your ass, and he gropes at your cheek when you snag his bottom lip to taunt him even further.
"of course," you coo sweetly, "you serve me a plate of those delicious pancakes and I-" you reach back for the hand that's grabbing you and guide his touch to the space between your legs.
nanami's eyes fall heavy, your bewitchment masking over his every reaction.
"…let you have a taste of this."
nanami groans with frustration, his other hand digging into the flesh of your hip while he palms at your heat. "shit-" he mumbles, pulling back only slightly to look down at where he's cupping you.
keeping yourself stabilized by holding onto him, you start grinding your hips, rubbing yourself against his palm and he curses once more at the sensation of your arousal. the hand on your hip moves to the back of your head, and threads itself around your hair where nanami tightens his grip.
his hungry mouth finds yours, tainting the innocence of the kiss you delivered earlier with a slip of his tongue. you're doing an excellent job at tempting his hunger, but he knows that he doesn't have much time to play.
you whimper when he removes his hand, but refuse to give up when you lift your leg to hook around his hip instead.
nanami braces you, holding your lower back for support, and you swallow the deep moan he releases as your pussy presses up against his semi-hard cock.
"you're misbehaving," he scolds, “I can’t have you making a mess of my suit”
“please,” a whiny beg escapes you, your needy behavior mocking him on who is calling the shots here. “just one before you go”
this time you both meet halfway for another kiss, but his strength overpowers you and he seats back onto the mattress. you try not to crumple his perfectly pressed shirt, reaching for his jaw as you feverishly devour him. he finds your clit, using your arousal to coat the sensitive bud as he presses firmly down to add some pressure to his circular movements.
you stop kissing him and you moan with relief.
“your tongue,” you exhale, “It’ll be quicker for me…”
another demand.
your words make him strain against his pants.
so you were, in fact, looking forward to that part of the morning and not just the warm plate of fresh pancakes. nanami nips at your bottom lip, leaving a path of scorching kisses along your jaw. he inserts two fingers between your wet folds, the squelching sounds only making you whimper with zero shame.
“quick?” he scoffs into your neck with distaste.
he leaves a trail of pecks down the column, further to the swell of breast until he lightly sucks on your nipple. his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth painting your body like you are both his canvas and muse.
he kisses your ribs, the space above of your naval, all the way down to your lower belly.
“you know I don’t like to rush this,” he lectures with a very pointed tone, his hot breath fanning to your aching core.
you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, “I know but…” you breathe heavily the further he moves down, “we didn’t do this last night, and I…I was hoping that we would pick up where we left off…”
goosebumps pebble your thighs from the vibration of his laugh, his lips now ghosting over your clit.
“I would love nothing more that to pick up where we left off,” nanami agrees.
he gradually pumps his fingers faster, the sound of the ticking clock subconsciously alerting him that he will definitely be late if he doesn't put a stop to this. he gazed up to look at you from underneath his golden lashes, watching as your neck rolls and chest heaves with delight.
he eases his movements then places a kiss on your throbbing clit, “so cute," he compliments and then retracts his digits.
the agony of his dismissal over what you want tugs at your face. “ken-”
he interrupts you by squeezing your cheeks with the same hand that was buried inside you, forcing a ridiculous pout which he kisses tenderly. “you’ll thank me for not rushing this,” he replies sheepishly.
he eases his hold and you can only stammer a few “buts” while he quickly refreshes himself, and with a final kiss to your to your temple he tells that he’ll be back soon before quickly dashing out the door.
⥽ requests?
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xjustakay · 3 months
Text
✺ (3/27) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: birthday — 1,009 words (jegulus dads ft. harry; sugary waffles and a very happy birthday for the world’s greatest dad —love, harry and regulus)
“Shhh, we have to keep quiet, darling,” Regulus whispers, shooting Harry an amused look.
Harry cups both hands around his mouth, whispers between them, “Sorry, papa.”
With a quiet snort, Regulus ruffles the mess of his dark hair —made even worse by the fact that they’ve only been awake and out of bed for all of thirty minutes. Getting ready for the day had been put on hold in favor of tiptoeing around the kitchen, being as quiet as humanly possible for a five year old who’s over-excited to make his dad waffles for his birthday. Regulus is under no illusion that James is actually still sleeping in their bed, but they’ll both pretend for the sake of their son.
“Should we put whipped cream on top?” Regulus suggests as he drops the fresh waffle onto a plate.
Harry nods hurriedly. “And rainbow sprinkles, and a cherry! Like a sundae!”
“Of course,” Regulus chuckles.
He follows the little boy’s giggled instruction, allowing Harry to be the one that tells him when to finally stop piling the whipped cream on (there’s more whipped cream than there is waffle, by that point). Regulus hands off the shaker of sprinkles, lets Harry take that over as well. In the middle of watching him, he notices his phone light up on the counter. Reaching for it and finding a message notification on the screen, his lips curl upward.
How bad is it?
Regulus eyes the mountain of whipped cream on top of the thick waffle on the plate. Harry has taken it upon himself to try to cover every inch of the sugar pile with rainbow sprinkles, tongue poked out between his teeth in concentration. It’s the same thing James unconsciously does while deeply focused and it warms something in Regulus’ chest to see it.
He snaps a quick, secret photo, unnoticed by the boy, and sends it off with no comment. The moving dots of a reply show up near-immediately.
Say goodbye to my abs, I guess
Regulus laughs a touch too loudly at the message, startling Harry out of his focus. With a furrowed brow, Harry lifts a hand, holding a finger to his mouth and shushing him.
“Too loud, papa,” He admonishes.
“Sorry, darling,” Regulus mutters, a grin unchanging from his face. “Maybe we’re finished with the sprinkles, yeah?”
Harry nods his head but continues shaking the container over one last section of the plate until he’s satisfied. He plops a bright red cherry on top of the colorful, sugary mess, then wide green eyes are looking up at Regulus.
“Do we have birthday candles?”
Regulus nods. “In the drawer by the sink.”
Before he can move to retrieve them, Harry scrambles off his stool and goes to do it for him. He comes scurrying back over, holding up the package for Regulus to take.
“How old is daddy now, papa?”
“He’s just turned thirty today,” Regulus answers, voice purposefully louder than moments before.
Exactly as expected, his phone buzzes with another message shortly after his voice carries from the kitchen.
Quit smiling about it
Regulus laughs quietly to himself, sends back a quick ‘never’ and tucks his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants. Despite Harry’s suggestion to try to fit all thirty candles on the melting pile of whipped cream, Regulus talks him down to just three. They’re very carefully situated and lit, Regulus balancing the plate on his palm to carry it down to the bedroom. Harry rushes ahead, feet thumping hurriedly on the hardwood before he pushes the door open.
James, bless him, is in fact pretending to be asleep still. His phone sits set aside on the nightstand, his arm tossed over his face where he’s sprawled dramatically in the center of the bed. Harry creeps around the side, tiptoeing once again and glancing back at Regulus behind him.
“Should we wake him?” Harry whispers.
James chooses that precise moment to make a loud snoring sound that send Harry clapping both little hands over his mouth to stifle his laugh. Regulus smiles widely, fond gaze flickering back and forth between his husband and his son. Harry looks at him expectantly once again and waits for a nod of approval before clambering up onto the bed.
He’s poised to pounce right on his father, wake him up enthusiastically, but before he’s given the chance, James jolts upright toward him with a playful roar. Harry squeals loudly, losing himself in a fit of giggles when he’s scooped into James’ arms, relentless fingers tickling at his sides.
“Papa, help!” Harry shrieks between peals of laughter.
“Papa can’t help you now,” James threatens jokingly. 
Regulus snorts, shaking his head. “Okay, lit candles here, let’s settle for a minute, yeah?”
James finally gives Harry a reprieve, both of them breathless and pink in the face. Harry flops onto his back between James’ outstretched legs, the bedsheet tangled around one thick thigh and the opposite calf. James makes a ‘bring it here’ motion with his hand and Regulus steps forward, carefully perching on the side of the bed nearest to the two of them. Harry hauls himself into a sitting position, watching eagerly as Regulus holds the plate out in front of where James sits.
“You have to make a birthday wish, daddy!” Harry tells him.
“What, you’re not going to sing to me?” James replies.
“No,” Regulus says immediately, earning a loud laugh from his husband. “Blow out your candles, the whipped cream is melting.”
James sneers at him but adjusts his lopsided glasses to stare at the flickering candle flames. His hazel eyes dart to Harry in front of him, then to Regulus at his left. A wide smile stretches across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes, helpless adoration bright in his gaze.
He locks eyes with Regulus for a long moment, the two sharing a fond, knowing look. James doesn’t have to say a thing for Regulus to know what he’s thinking; what else is there to wish for, when this is what life looks like?
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