#anyways I know I haven't been here in a hot minute
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brehaaorgana · 3 days ago
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Usually the mask = feeling hot/unable to breathe faster thing is mostly psychosomatic. The ability to actually intake oxygen isn't affected at all. Allergy/pollen masks don't have to be as thick/heavy as other masks (I recommend looking to see if you can find lighter weight ones from Japan or South Korea. They tend to have a lot of lightweight options) and you wouldn't want fully cloth masks anyways.
However if you've had full on heat stroke (not just heat exhaustion, but "need to be hospitalized heat stroke") before, typically that means you have permanently broken your ability to temperature regulate. So just the fact that it's 104 and 90% humidity would be enough for you to feel that terrible again, and probably more quickly, because heat stroke typically has life long consequences in ways we don't always know how to predict/are still studying (example). Also fwiw if you take...literally any kind of prescription medication, it's worth looking to see if the side effects include photosensitivity or diuretics/dehydration because that can also compound how fast you feel bad. (Similarly also if you use skincare products, certain ingredients are also photosensitizing, so you might burn faster.)
I had a boss awhile back who had to basically stop doing any fieldwork as an archaeologist because she's gotten heatstroke and could no longer be outside for any length of time in the heat anymore. In all honesty, it's hard to say, because if you have had heat stroke, you might still react very badly in the heat without any masks and it just feels more obvious with them on. You could be allergic to something in the masks, but otherwise it could just be like...it's 104 degrees and 90% humidity, and you've had heatstroke before, y'know?
Maybe modern science could solve this?
Lol I brought it up because for awhile I kept going to CVS minute clinics when I was feeling MISERABLE for weeks on end and finally the doctor was like "...do you have allergies?"
"no I was tested and I don't have any?"
"and when was that?"
[several years prior, ACROSS THE COUNTRY....]
"okay so you're not sick. You have seasonal allergies. **here.** In THIS state. I'm prescribing you allergy medicine. Please take it."
And then I was like:
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I started feeling BETTER. Aughhhhh. Here I thought I just caught every cold on the planet. (Mine is usually allergies in the fall).
The other thing too is (and I have also definitely forgotten this!) just because one kind of spray stopped working ages ago doesn't mean that a) you couldn't try a *different* prescription allergy medication or that b) they haven't vastly improved the long term efficacy since you first took it.
Like (different, more extreme example) I straight up try not to mention my antidepressants/anti-anxiety medication to my Nana because when she was prescribed an SSRI for her anxiety/OCD it went terribly for her, so she doesn't want me to have those bad experiences — but it's been several decades and they've vastly improved how this stuff gets formulated.
Genuinely can't hurt to at least try!
It's so nice to see black men be vulnerable and fun.
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anzekopistar · 5 months ago
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Kinda crazy how a handful of players refused to wear pride jerseys and were called homophobic online and that hurt their feelings :( so the NHL fully banned all themed jerseys so the big tough hockey players wouldn't get their feelings hurt, and now in an NHL run event Team USA is publicly talking about how Trump called them and said he wanted to annex Canada and how this was inspirational to them. We can't wear rainbow jerseys but we can have players from one country that this league operates in openly talking about how they support essentially invading the other country this league operates in
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unproduciblesmackdown · 1 year ago
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bonus thing i cherish in this shot is that it's the one time it's immediately noticeable that her hair length is uneven....let's go Cutting One's Own Hair (With Or Without A Mirror) look havers irl (b/c of cutting one's own hair with or without a mirror, maybe) & even when it's recreated on purpose like so
#haven't yet rewatched fury road as i've been anticipating doing for weeks now. we're on the verge of it though i can sense it#thank god ms charlize (juking diacritics) decided on Furiosa Will Have Short Hair#the No Diegetic Makeup. the constant (smudged with dirt or grease or blood perhaps) looks#only additional thing that we're demanding from anything. armpit hair please. for furiosa at least#meanwhile siiigh i guess like three days (? i will go through the number of Nights in my head. one. two.) closer to two days#isn't long enough to grow that much leg hair siiigh fine. more difficult to match up leg hair shots chronology too but if only....#reminds me how a while ago i was like half watching smthing & after a fair number of scenes was like oh hang on that's charlize furiosa....#b/c i basically know her From This. i'd seen smthing else she was in years before w/o remembering much details of Anything#(also had technically seen tom hardy in smthing more recently at the time Also w/o recognizing as much. also thanks at least in part to#not especially enjoying the movie) & i'm not great with faces; that most roles are gonna have Longer Hair / Makeup happening#and a lack of constant dirt grease blood etc even like okay this would be quite difficult#so i Didn't recognize the actor for a hot minute until the reason i Did was just this instance of [subtle quiet shift Acting Moment]#where she got this particular Silent Restrained Intensity going and i was like oh hang on. Could Be Her lmao. it was#anyways even capturing this screencap it was like Aughhh that she Walks. Stops. Walks. the Soundtrack doing what it's doing here....#and if there's Anything in this film to illustrate [max: main character] [furiosa: protagonist] boy is it this scene. wah#the end of this shot as capable like starts looking away like ah yeah emotion moment. well i'll give you this privacy#just like the fast & furious crossroads chat about cam fr lol like i'll respectfully turn so i'm not looking right at you for this Real Shi#responding to your reeling deepest devastation by moving forward still as far as you can? a quarter mile at a time of you#fury road
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secondbeatsongs · 6 months ago
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Food Crime: Frosty the Slawman
so a while ago, I saw this photo going around on tumblr:
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at first, I thought this was photoshopped. I mean, "welcome new man in your life"? that feels like a translation error, or someone being silly on purpose.
but guess what! turns out, Frosty Slaw Man is real!
and soon...he will be mine. let's get cooking
(full disclosure: I crafted this snowman and took notes about it over a year ago. and then, like with many things in my life, I forgot about him, and let him drift into the ADHD void of Things I'm Not Currently Staring At, where object permanence is tentative and largely unrealized.
but here we are! and here he is: the slaw man. it's time to share him with you, so that you can suffer as I have suffered, and/or rejoice in my gelatin creation!)
so this recipe photo originally came from Mid-Century Menu (archive link), a blog that seems like one after my own heart, and which once tried to make the Slaw Man (with not much success; but we'll get back to that)! but it's not just that blog that has copies of this ad. I also found it on reddit, and in a few different places on ebay!
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lookit that guy! he's a real guy!
both the reddit post and some of the ebay listings say that this is from 1963 (though I haven't been able to figure out which magazines it was printed in, to confirm this for myself). but in looking this up, I discovered something else fun! there's another version of this ad!
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Best Foods is what Hellmann's stuff is called on the west coast, and the "this is no place for second best" thing makes a lot more sense when you consider that the ad was probably made for Best Foods first, and then just reused and rebranded for the east coast
the more you know!
anyway the benefit of finding this alternate ad is that the scan on this image is a lot clearer, and so the recipe is more readable! and in looking at it, I've realized something important:
when Mid-Century Menu tried this recipe, they got an ingredient amount wrong.
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when they made their beloved Slaw Man, they had the water amount written down as 1/4 cup, but looking at this scan up close, it is actually 3/4 cup of water! something that might make a significant difference, considering we're working with gelatin!
(there's also another change I want to make compared to what they did, when I do this recipe. but we'll get into that in a sec.)
for now: we begin
so. there's no way I'm making a Slaw Man this large. I am just one person, and considering the ingredients of this, I don't think I'm going to be able to consume that much Slaw.
two entire heads of cabbage? three pounds of cottage cheese, a thing that I don't even like to eat? no. that's a bad idea.
so I'm starting small here and making this 1/3 the size of the original:
2 packets of unflavored gelatin 1/4 cup cold water 1 cup mayo 1 tsp salt 1lb cottage cheese 4 cups shredded cabbage
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surely this will result in a reasonable amount of Man
...okay, I started chopping the cabbage thinking it would be easier, but I've given up and pulled out a grater. this is much better! and somehow more violent (affectionate)
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the recipe says to soften the gelatin in cold water, and then stir over hot water until it's dissolved. I'm going to assume "stir over hot water" means a double boiler, so let's do that
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hmmm, the gelatin is very foamy? it’s melted, but the bottom of the pot feels really....sticky
okay. after a couple minutes more and no change, I’m calling this good enough.
so one thing that others who have attempted this recipe have not taken into consideration is the cottage cheese. you see, the others used normal cottage cheese, but the recipe says to use "cottage cheese, cream style"
I’ll be real, I’m not 100% what that means, since we don’t have that here. but I can take an educated guess! so let’s blend the cottage cheese!
(with an immersion blender. I am not willing to wash an actual blender because of this)
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mmm, yes. very smooth
...actually. why isn't all cottage cheese like this? the thing I hate about cottage cheese is the texture, so why isn't it all smooth and creamy like this?? I could eat this!!
a new discovery is made every day in this house.
okay, time to start mixing things together.
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ah, frosty. I opened a whole new thing of mayo for you! do you feel special?
(I'd make a "pre-dinner snack?" joke, but sometimes I think I'm the only one that remembers Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time)
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okay, the mayo, cottage cheese, and salt have been added to the gelatin. but as this cools, the texture is getting...hmm. less than appealing.
lastly: the cabbage
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oh. oh this is not very nice
next it says to pack the "salad" into a one pound container, and two six-cup bowls, but since I made this recipe so much smaller, I'm going to uhhhh. uh. find some bowls that seem like they'd be correct...snowman? proportions?
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ah. this bowl is too big.
hey, these'll work!
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now I just have to let them chill for a while, and continue another day.
(edit from current!me: ahhh oh my god I forgot this was pretty soon after we adopted Jackie! look at these cat pics that I took while I was food crime-ing!
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look at them having their little interactions! Knuckles was trying so hard to be friends with her! I love them)
hello! two days later and we are ready to assemble the slawman. and my sibling has started referring to him as "frosty: attorney at slaw", so that's fun.
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I've done a thing where, as these set, I flipped them around in the bowl so that hopefully they'd be more round. we'll see if they actually stay like this.
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I have also made some decorations for him out of peppers, olives, and carrots!
let's build our boy
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oh he's so heavy. and wobbly
no no no he almost fell over!!
okay. he's fine. but more skewers were needed.
and...okay. he is complete.
behold!
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gaze upon my beautiful man!
(he is not structurally sound! he wobbles unsteadily as I rotate him! there are already cracks forming in the gelatin around where his arms are! don't worry about it!)
 now it's time to stab him
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and...to devour him
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this tastes like...a bland coleslaw? and not even that. it's just sort of a salty, cottage cheese-y cabbage. the ingredients don't combine to become something greater, they simply...sit there. like this.
and the texture is...mmm. it's not a jello kind of texture, but it is a bit squashy in a way that's mildly strange.
it's very creamy once it softens in your mouth.
...I don't like this!
and look! taking just that one chunk from him was enough to destabilize him entirely :(
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RIP frosty. now I just have to see if I can eat all of you before you go bad.
(note from current!me: I could not.
 I ate maybe half of him over the course of many days, often adding other stuff to him to try to add some flavor: bacon, frozen peas, cheese, etc. but even with that, I just couldn't stomach him.
after a while I stuck what was left of him in the freezer, hoping that maybe I'd find the will to consume the rest of him some other day.
do you know what a frozen-and-then-thawed mixture of cabbage, cottage cheese, mayo, and gelatin looks and tastes like?
bad. the answer is: bad.
I threw him out pretty quickly after thawing him.
do not try this recipe at home)
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thehoneybeestings · 1 month ago
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𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Word Count: 1k Content/Warnings: nsfw, porn w no/little plot, brothel worker!reader x service top!sev, bottom!reader, fem reader (no anatomy mentioned), masochist!reader, traffic light system A/N: based on this post! credits to @no1jinxer for the idea! it's in the name; sev is high on shimmer fucks the shit out of you. enjoy <3
𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ
──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──
୨ৎ Sevika on Shimmer, who usually refuses to set foot into the brothel under the influence of its effects 
୨ৎ But tonight, she’s got a job to do
୨ৎ She’s been tracking a rival chem-baron for a few weeks now, and it hadn’t taken her long to figure out that he frequented the brothel
୨ৎ So, she struck up a deal with Babette; “I’ll pay you and your girls double for the next three months if you’ll give me a ring the next time he shows up.”
୨ৎ “You’d pay me twice to see Y/n, anyway,” Babette scoffs; but ultimately, they shake on it, and the rest is a waiting game
୨ৎ When Babette does give her the call, she’s there in less than 10 minutes, and he’s dead in less than five
୨ৎ She doesn’t typically let work get personal, but when she’d heard from a few of Babette’s girls that this chem-baron tended to get a bit too rough with them, it was hard not to let anger fuel the job more than she typically would
୨ৎ And as soon as he’s been taken care of, she makes her rounds, peeking her head into every open door to ensure that everyone’s okay
୨ৎ When she makes it to you, she releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding upon finding you arranging pillows on the velvet couch, unassuming as ever
୨ৎ “Hey, doll,” she sighs. “You okay in here?”
୨ৎ You’re calling her name in excitement before you can help it, head whipping around to look at her; and when you do, you find her in a state you’ve never seen; only heard of 
୨ৎ Her copper arm hums with energy, working hard to circulate the unmistakable glow of shimmer through its workings and into her bloodstream
୨ৎ Her scar glows with the same hue, glittering like hot coals of magenta
୨ৎ And her eyes; lilac pulses in their irises, her gaze even more alluring now than it usually is
୨ৎ  You don’t realize your own eyes have gone wide until she breaks the silence with a voice raspy from exertion 
୨ৎ “I know,” she begins, almost apologetically, “I don’t normally let folks see me like this unless they’re about to get their shit rocked-”
୨ৎ “It’s okay,” you quickly interrupt, shaking your head. “I mean, I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
୨ৎ She nods tentatively 
୨ৎ “Okay… and you’re alright?”
୨ৎ “I’m just fine, Vika. Come, sit,”
୨ৎ And when you take a step forward, she takes one back
୨ৎ “Listen… I can’t ask you for anything tonight. Not when I’m still riled up.”
୨ৎ You don’t take another step forward, but your eyes stay locked onto hers, your voice steady
୨ৎ “Do you want something?” 
୨ৎ She scoffs, dark lips stretching up into a wicked grin
୨ৎ “Baby, it’s you. Of course I do, but I don’t wanna hurt ya.” 
୨ৎ She doesn’t miss the way your lips quirk up into a smirk of their own
୨ৎ “Three months of comin’ to see me… and you haven't figured out that I like a little pain?”
୨ৎ Her face falls- morphs into something serious, something dangerous- and she raises her brows in a silent inquiry:
୨ৎ ‘You sure you know what you’re asking for?’
୨ৎ The cock of your own brow in return says:
୨ৎ ‘You have no idea.’
──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──
୨ৎ Sevika on Shimmer, who never would have thought such a sweet thing like you would turn out to be such a masochist
୨ৎ And when you’re begging like that for her to mark you up, throw you around, leave you sore… what kind of service top would she be to deny you?
୨ৎ Eventually, she starts showing up with an extra cartridge of shimmer, loving the way you go dumb for her when she triggers it and fucks you into tomorrow
୨ৎ It takes her a while to get comfortable with being as rough as you want her to be, not because she doesn’t want to, but because the last thing she wants is to hurt you in a way that suddenly isn’t fun anymore
୨ৎ But, just as always, you’re more than patient, and make her feel more than safe to explore this new facet of her time spent with you
୨ৎ She’ll bite down, and you say harder, she’ll pull your hair, and you say rougher, she fucks you deep, and you say deeper; until she knows just how limp you really want to be by the end of the night
୨ৎ And she has to admit; it’s nice
୨ৎ Really nice
୨ৎ She’s usually already pent up from the bullshit of her day’s work when she comes to see you, but when she’s pent up and wired off the purple substance flooding her system?
୨ৎ She can’t deny that blowing off all that steam in the form of ravaging you is quite the gift you've given her
୨ৎ Of course, Sevika still will not sleep with you if she’s too high to rein herself in the moment you need her to, and as much as she checks in with you when she’s not using it, expect twice the requests for your color and triple the orders to remind her of your safeword when she is
୨ৎ But, damn… quite frankly, you give her a run for her money, and that isn’t easy to do
୨ৎ By the time she’s done with you, you’re littered in bite marks and bruises, legs trembling and face tear-stained
୨ৎ She finds that aftercare with you makes the come down off of shimmer so much easier to handle, too; that pressing kisses to every mark she’s made and whispering praises in your ear as she wipes away at your shuddering form helps ground her just as much
୨ৎ And then, she sleeps like a Gods-damned baby
୨ৎ She never falls asleep at the brothel; or so she thought, but here she is, being woken up by an angel in pink lingerie letting her know that it’s closing time
୨ৎ Of course, she flips out when you tell her she’s been asleep for hours, but you refuse to wake her up and kick her out, caring more that she catches up on the sleep you know she’s not getting than the money you could've made in those hours
୨ৎ But, it’s not like the money matters; she pays double for you, now
──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──
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moon-fics · 3 months ago
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Run Hot
Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader
Summary: The heating in the tower has broken in the middle of winter. This leaves everyone trying to find warmth any way possible.
A/n: I can't write angst anymore. I love comfort fics with Bob. He doesn't deserve pain.
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This had to be a punishment or some sort of payback from Valentina. There's no way a fully operational and multimillion-dollar tower suddenly lost heating in the middle of winter. It's freezing, and the number of windows that cover half the building isn't helping.
You walk into the main room, where a fireplace is displayed on one of the screens. Almost no one is there due to how cold it is. The only people around are Alexei and Bob, who are sitting on opposite sides of the room.
Alexei is using alcohol to fight the cold. He's sitting on one of the couches with a bottle of vodka next to him. You don't try to disturb him as he watches his phone screen and laughs to himself.
That leaves you with Bob, who is reading a book near one of the windows. He's created some sort of nook in the corner to relax. There's a large bean bag that he hoards along with blankets and a pile of books. Ever since he settled into the tower, he's been reading wellness books.
"Anything interesting?" You ask while crouching next to him. You don't encroach on his space. "I haven't read a wellness book in years." You admit.
He looks up from his book with a subtle smile. He doesn't close it, but he leaves his thumb in the middle of the crease. You don't understand how he can sit this close to the window and not be shivering. He actually looks rather warm.
"It's mostly on how to create positively," He explains with a shrug. You won't ask further because that sounds like someone only he'd be interested in. "Hey, where did everyone go?" He asks while glancing around. You're astounded by how oblivious and unaware he is.
"It's like 5 degrees in here. Everyone is in their rooms under the covers," You say with amusement. "Did you not notice?"
"No, not really. I mean, I'm pretty comfortable with the temperature. It's actually nice." He scratches his neck. You can't stop yourself from glaring at him and feeling a bit jealous. Of course, the guy with god-like powers doesn't get cold either. "I usually run hot, so not having to prevent myself from sweating is pleasant."
"I hate you." You grumble while moving to sit on the floor. Your legs are aching from crouching, and you don't want to end the conversation here. "I hope the heat turns back on and you sweat through all your clothes." You tease.
"You can just sit closer to me," He suggests while patting the bean bag. There's enough room for both of you, so you don't hesitate to climb on. The moment you do, you can feel his warmth. He's practically radiating it.
It's not enough to keep you from shivering, but it's better than nothing. You glance down at his book and read a short passage. He's too far into it for you to understand what is being told, but you continue to read anyway.
"I could read it to you," He places the book on his knee for you to get a better look. You honestly doubt you'd be able to absorb the words he'd be saying. "If not, you could pick a book from my pile and read with me." His offer is sweet. He wants to include you in his activity and space. The only other person he's offered that to is Yelena, and she usually doesn't take up on reading.
"I don't mind just looking out the window," You say. You glance out the window to see the snow falling over the city. From this high up, you can see the rooftops that are blanketed in snow. The people below are leaving trails on the sidewalk.
After a few minutes, you can sense yourself growing tired. Even as you force yourself to follow snowflakes as they fall, you can sense it. You can't stop your head from lulling a few times, nearly hitting Bob's shoulder.
After the fifth time, he shuts his book and places it down on the floor. "You can use me as a pillow. I'm not going to... You know." He gestures to his head, and it makes you smile. Out of everyone on the team, you fear Bob the least. "I've got it under control for the most part." He says in a quieter voice.
"Yeah, but you're busy reading. I don't want to disturb that." You say. You rub your face to stay awake. The feeling of your cold hand against your cheeks gives you a tiny boost of energy.
"Just use me as a pillow!" He says a bit louder. Bob is never one to shy away from physical touch. If it's gentle, he'll happily accept it. So, you let out a groan and do something you'll probably regret later. You swing your legs over his and position yourself against his chest.
There's a moment of silence where you debate standing up and rushing to your room. Before you can suck up your dignity his arms wrap around you. His body is like a furnace that prevents you from running.
You go to look up at him, but he quickly places his head on yours. You force your eyes to roll up as high as they can. You can barely see his face, but there's no mistaking the redness of his cheeks. You also notice his hand reaching for his book again. He opens it but fidgets with the page instead of reading it.
"All good?" You ask. He clears his throat and nods his head as best he can without hitting yours.
"A- all good," He confirms. He can't hide the rasp in his voice or how his words escape him. It's like seeing him in the vault all over again, meek and nervous. "Just, uhm, just trying to read." He lifts his book slightly to show proof.
With his confirmation, you shut your eyes. Except you don't sleep. You're listening to his heartbeat and how fast it is when his hand begins playing with a strand of your hair. It's light, and he avoids pulling on it.
"Bob?" You whisper. He lets out a hum in response as his eyes scan the page. "Do you want a better strand?" You ask in a joking tone. His fingers let go of your hair, and you're disappointed. You enjoyed the feeling of his hand twirling the small strand.
"N-no, sorry. I didn't realize..." He mumbles. "I'll leave it alone."
"You don't have to. I wasn't complaining." You assure him. You take his free hand and lift it back to your hair. You're about to let go when his grip tightens around yours. His rough palms slide against yours, and when you don't pull away, he lowers them.
"Then is, uhm, this ok?" He asks with hope in his voice. Although you're feeding off his warmth, you can now feel your body producing its own. Your face burns, and you're so glad he can't see it right now.
"Perfectly fine." You say while trying to hide any signs of being flustered.
You stay like that for a while, and eventually you do fall asleep. Unbeknownst to you, so does he. This gives Ava and Walker a great opportunity to snap a photo for later. Just to save in their 'We Knew It' album.
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mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 6 months ago
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"Mad Woman"
ok yall im out of school now! this was rushed so don't judge, when i write i just pour out whatever's in my head, that's why it's almost always rushed. i feel like if i don't write it, it'll disappeare! also to everyone hating in my asks, NO ONE IS FORCING YOU TO READ MY WORK!!!! hating does nothing but discourage me and lower my already non-existent confidence in my writing. pls leave me alone, if you don't have anything nice to say; don't say anything. i LOVE all my positive asks and comments, they make my day. don't ruin it for me.
Prologue: hapter 1: Chapter 2: Chapter 3: Chapter 4: Chapter 5 Chapter 6:
Six months, that's how long it's been since Bruce exiled you to New York and left you alone once again. It's been 387 days since Tiffany Maverick pulled the rug from beneath your feet and ensnared your family in her web of lies and manipulation. For six months, your family ignored you, only Alfred sending you the occasional care package which you promptly threw in the garbage.
You wish Tiffany and Damian were as content with ignoring you as the rest of the family but unfortunately, they went out of their way to rub their closeness in your face by sending you pictures of family movie night, family game night, and the family attending their school events. It made you angry at first, before you saw how funny it was. A family of billionaires, a family of detectives, a family of vigilantes, sitting next to a spy; obliviously feeding her insider information. The Batman, sitting grinning ear to ear next to a girl who could be his downfall.
Surprisingly, boarding school was amazing. The boys were hot, though most arrogant and dumb, they were all loaded and into you. The girls idolized you from the moment you walked in, your word was law around here and the power felt amazing. You decided what was in and out, who was hot and who was not; a huge difference and change of pace from the years of bullying and ridicule at Gotham Prep.
The charm came with your new abilities, most likely. Sure, the first two months were fucking painful and exposed you to pain you didn't think was possible but it was a small price to pay. It was nothing for the power of being able to charm and flirt your way out of just about anything, being able to eject venom with the slightest trace of your fresh set of acrylics, being able to literally bite people with your fangs and have them enjoy it, sensing heat signatures and feeling emotions and eyes on you, having the ability to give literal bone-crushing hugs, and so many things you haven't even discovered.
Not to mention your random overnight makeover! Suddenly, your figure was to die for, perfect in all senses of the word. Your skin gleamed and shimmered in the light, long shed away were all the blemishes and scars. Your hair always shiny and your teeth always pearly white, albeit a bit sharp. You're the image of beauty.
Who cares about the price when the product was this good anyway?
Who needed familial love when everyone here worshipped you? That new view and utter hatred for the family is what convinced you to accept Ariele, your boarding school bff and roomie,'s offer to spend summer break with her family in the south of france. Of course, you wanted to go back to manor for a week before meeting her there. Alfred asked you to come and though you were angry at him, you missed the old man. You swore to yourself that you'd only stay the night, catch up with Alfred, and ignore your 'family' then promptly spend the summer half naked, tanning on a super yacht with your girls.
Little did you know that you'd never make it to france, in fact, you wouldn't even make it out the manor now that Tim discovered the truth and told the rest of the family.
Tim Drake noticed things. Small things. Minute details that other people might overlook. That's how he found the truth.
It started with the cooking. Tiffany had casually mentioned one evening that she’d found some old recipes in the manor’s archives, recipes that you had once written down, hoping to impress Damian with Arabic dinners and desserts. Tiffany had barely glanced at the handwritten notes before she had offered to make dinner that night—a perfect replica of your signature stuffed cabbage leaves, Malfoof, as you called it.
Tim had been there when it happened. He’d recognized it immediately. The dish was one of your favorites, one you had made for family dinners. It was too familiar, too precise for Tiffany, it lacked the usual love and effort.
Then came the awards. It was subtle at first, too. Tiffany casually dropping that she had “entered a local baking competition” and how much fun it had been to win. Tim had known that you had been the one to actually win that competition the year before, he remembered rolling his eyes as you foolishly tried to impress him. But when he checked the award Tiffany had won? It looked eerily similar to the one that you had earned. Tiffany didn’t even bother hiding her gloating as she showed it off, calling it “another step toward making Gotham proud.”
Tim’s stomach churned. It wasn’t a coincidence. Tiffany was stealing your life and he was the only one that saw it. Who knows what else she was stealing.
The pieces clicked into place when he found the old photo albums. Tiffany had been snooping around the library one afternoon, pulling out albums that had been tucked away in the back, ones that hadn’t been touched in years. They were full of memories of your achievements, pictures of family vacations, awards won for charity work and academic excellence. Baby photo's, old camera's, journals, even old clothes.It wasn’t just admiration. It was an obsession.
He saw her dig through and read every one of your old entries, saw her stare at pictures and attempt to manuever her body how you stood, but what really creeped him out was when she started tracing over your handwriting.
Tim couldn’t let it go. This was insane. It was almost as if Tiffany wanted to wear your skin.
It wasn’t that he wanted to make Tiffany an enemy or villainize her, quite the opposite actually, he'd been ignoring her strange behavior and smell for a year now because of how fond he was of her. But this? This was crossing a line. She wasn’t just trying to fit in anymore, this was dangerous.
He now suspected there was more to Tiffany than just her obsession with your life and after putting the pieces together, it was becoming clear: Tiffany was playing a much deeper game. She wasn’t just trying to steal your identity, she was stealing information, too.
Tim’s investigative skills had been honed through years of being the tech guy of the Batfamily, and when something felt off, he didn’t ignore it. Not anymore, he started tracking small anomalies—times when Tiffany’s presence seemed too convenient, moments when crucial data about Gotham’s underworld went missing from the Batcomputer, or when confidential mission details were leaked through channels Tim knew the Batfamily didn’t use. Times when the Joker seemed to know the family's course of action and times when villains knew Duke's plans.
That’s when it clicked.
Tiffany wasn’t just trying to fit in with the family. She was spying. Her affections with the family were a cover for something darker. She had been gathering intelligence for a shadowy organization, feeding them vital information about their operations. This was bigger than him—this was a full-blown infiltration. Tiffany was working for someone else, someone dangerous.
Tiffany’s betrayal ran deep, and her spying wasn’t just about information anymore; it was personal. She had been stealing pieces of your life, your successes, your talents , your family. She had slowly taken everything that you had worked for and twisted it into her own false narrative. It was sickening.
Tim couldn’t stand it anymore. He had dug through encrypted files, tracked hidden transmissions, and pieced together cryptic conversations. Tiffany wasn’t just trying to steal your identity for the sake of becoming the perfect family member. No. She was mimicking your cooking and baking skills, down to the awards she had won for those very talents. She had been trying to erase you and replace you with a manufactured version of herself.
It was almost too much for Tim to handle. But there was something even worse lurking beneath the surface: the deeper he dug, the more it became clear that Tiffany wasn’t just feeding information to criminals. She had been feeding off your spirit, your presence and she had nearly replaced you entirely.
Now he just needed to tell the other.
The tension in the Batcave could be cut with a knife as Tim stood before Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, Duke, Cass, Steph, Barbara, and Alfred, ready to show them what he had discovered.
“I’ve been tracking Tiffany’s movements for the last few days,” Tim began, his voice low but sharp. “And I found something that’s... unsettling.”
Bruce, who had been scanning a mission report, looked up with interest. Dick turned to Tim, a puzzled expression on his face. Alfred stepped forward, his usual composed demeanor now replaced with a rare concern. Even Damian looked confused.
“What did you find, Master Tim?” Alfred asked, his tone calm, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes.
Tim didn’t hesitate. He clicked a button on the computer, and the large screen behind him flickered to life. A series of encrypted files appeared—mission logs, surveillance footage, and even intercepted communications. The Batcave was suffocating in its silence as Tim presented the evidence to Bruce, Dick, Jason, Alfred, and the others. His fingers flew over the keyboard, and every new image, every new file, felt like a punch in the gut.
There was a long silence as everyone processed the information. Bruce’s usual stoic expression faltered for a moment, and Dick clenched his fists. The weight of the revelation was hitting hard, but it wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt. It was that someone in their midst had been pulling the strings behind their backs for a year.
The data was damning. It was all there, proof that Tiffany had been copying your recipes, your designs, your machines, even stealing the culinary awards that you had earned over the years. And on top of that, she had been siphoning critical Batfamily intel to an unknown organisation. The information was so sensitive, it could have jeopardized every single one of them.
“Do you see it now?” Tim’s voice was quieter, but his anger was unmistakable. He flicked the last file onto the screen. Tiffany’s false accomplishments, stolen directly from you. The stolen recipes. The mission intel sent out from the Batcomputer under her watch. “All of us have been blind to it.”
“About a month ago,” Tim said, “I found an odd encryption pattern in the Batcomputer—something I’ve never seen before. When I decrypted it, I found a set of mission details. Ones that shouldn’t have left the system. I traced the origin back to Tiffany.”
Alfred's face tightened as he took in the footage on the screen. It was a recording of Tiffany accessing classified Batfamily data, tapping into their most sensitive files.
“She’s been stealing information,” Tim continued, his voice gaining intensity. “Every single time she’s interacted with the Batcomputer, she’s been sending that data out to an unknown address. I can't track where it's coming from, it's too advanced; even for me.
“Impossible,” Bruce muttered, but his eyes were narrowing in disbelief. “Why would she—?”
“Because she’s a spy,” Tim interrupted, “and it gets worse. She’s been feeding them everything. Our weaknesses, our next moves, our schedules. She’s not just a mole in the manor. She’s been working against us this whole time. She's why so many missions have failed.Tim’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not just the family’s accomplishments she’s been stealing. She’s been getting close to each of us, using our trust. She knows things, personal things, and she’s been leaking that information. She’s been feeding it to the highest bidder, giving Gotham’s worst players a playbook for taking us down.”
Dick’s face twisted with disbelief. “She was pretending to be (y/n), taking her accomplishments as her own, but—” He trailed off, his voice faltering. “How could we have let this happen? How did we not notice?”
Jason’s voice cut through the heavy silence, rough and sharp, like a crack of thunder. He stepped forward, fists clenched. “I should’ve known. She’s been playing everyone, pretending like she’s all sweet and innocent, but she was using all of us.” Jason’s eyes flicked to the screen, then back at Tim, his face a mask of fury. “She lied to me. She’s been lying to all of us. And she’s been trying to replace her.” His hand slammed onto the table, and the anger in his voice was unmistakable. “She doesn’t belong here. We trusted her. We all trusted her.” Jason’s anger bubbled over. This betrayal, the way Tiffany had wormed her way into their lives, made him see red
He couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I should’ve known,” Jason spat, pacing in circles, his fists clenched tight at his sides. “I let her get close to me. I let her in, we all did! And now look at this. She’s been pretending to be everything she’s not. She’s been trying to take her place, her rightful place in this family!”
Alfred, who had been silent until now, cleared his throat, his voice filled with quiet but growing fury. “I should have seen it,” he muttered, his gaze darkening. “I was too lenient with her. I allowed her to slip through the cracks, to play at being part of this family. I should have known better.” His usually calm demeanor was cracking, and the regret in his voice was palpable.
Bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line as the weight of Tim’s words sank in. His eyes hardened as he stared at the screen, disappointment creeping into his features. Tiffany had been their guest, their supposed family, and this whole time, she had been playing them all. You had tried to warn them.
Duke, who had been standing quietly at the back of the room, spoke up. His voice was low but steady.
“I knew something was off,” Duke said, his eyes fixed on the screen. “I couldn’t put my finger on it, but... she’d been acting weird around me. Always asking questions—asking about the family, the missions, everything. I thought I was paranoid.”
Damian had always been fiercely protective of what he considered his, no one could ever doubt that. He mocked you, saw you as his pathetic bastard older sister, he had wanted to hurt you. But now, as the reality of Tiffany’s betrayal settled in, something darker began to take root inside him. He remember your unconditional love for him, how you took everything he said did to you with grace and compassion. He remembered how good you were to him. He noticed that everything he thought he loved about Tiffany was what she stole from you. His eyes burned with rage as he thought about how Tiffany had wormed her way into the family and his heart, how she’d stolen your accomplishments, and how she’d attempted to erase his sibling from the very fabric of their world.
She was trying to replace her. That thought alone made his fists tighten, nails biting into his palms.
It had been a long time since Damian had felt this kind of protective rage. He was the blood of the Wayne family, the one who deserved to be at the center of it all, but you; his blood sibling, his equal, had always been ignored, undervalued ridiculed and neglected. And now Tiffany, a mere interloper, had dared to manipulate and tear him away from you.
Damian watched the family, his gaze flicking to each of them as they tried to process the betrayal. The anger from his family was palpable, but there was something else there too: possessiveness. Protectiveness. regret. They weren’t just angry at Tiffany for what she had done to you, they were furious at themselves for pushing you away and leaving you alone and unprotected in New York.
You were his responsibility, his blood, and no one; not even Tiffany, was going to steal you away from him. He had always wanted to prove his superiority to the others, but now that wasn’t his focus. His attention was fixed solely on bringing you back to him, where you belonged.
Cass, who had been silently observing, nodded. Her face was unreadable, but the tension in her jaw told Tim that she, too, had been sensing something wrong for weeks.
Steph, ever the sharp observer, had her arms crossed over her chest, her usual sarcasm now tempered with a cold seriousness. “I knew she wasn’t perfect, but this? This is next-level crazy. Are you sure bout this Time?” She leaned forward, her voice suddenly harder.
Barbra was too shocked to say anything. This was not how today was supposed to go.
Alfred glanced toward Bruce. “Master Bruce,” he said softly, “the level of infiltration, this is something I never anticipated. We should have seen the signs.”
Bruce’s expression was steely. “We were too distracted, too willing to accept her presence as part of the family. We let our guard down.”
“That’s not just her fault,” Dick interjected. “We’ve all been too trusting. Especially with everything that happened with (y/n).” His voice hardened as he glanced at the screen again, eyes flicking to Tim. “What now? What do we do about it?”
Tim stepped forward, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I’ve already notified our allies. The information she’s passed is enough to give this organization an upper hand in Gotham, maybe beyond. She hasn't revealed our identities but she might soon. we can’t let her get away with it. She’s been playing us this whole time.”
Steph threw her hands up in exasperation. “So what, we just let her go? She’s been lying to us, manipulating us for months! ?”
Tim’s eyes were cold, calculating. “We’ll have to trap her. Use the information she’s already stolen to set her up. Once we confront her, we’ll make sure she doesn’t get away.”
Bruce’s fists were clenched at his sides, his jaw set in stone. He had failed [Y/N]—he had failed his child. The weight of that was too much for him to bear. “This ends now. We’re going to fix this.”
Ok yall since apparently 8 ppl think my work is absoulte shit and and SURE i knew how they felt this is pretty rushed and i feel like it sucks! anyway!! i hope at least some people enjoy <33 send in nice aks and questions and ideas pls. its so fun answering them. yall are mind readers and are so creative!! lmk if there's any typos bc I copy-pasted half of it from my notes app. yeah i did write half of this when i was supposed to be in class, and??? Next chapter Tiffany gets confronted, reader comes home, Batfam start groveling and regretting their actions, sort of on their way to yandere-ism and make reader move back to gotham to be closer to "family"
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munsonsmixtapes · 6 months ago
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Such a Good Boy, Knows How to Please
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Billy Hargrove x Hopper!fem!reader
You convince yourself that you hate Billy, but after having nothing but dirty thoughts about him, you give him a proposition.
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) mention of vomit/throwing up
This series is being discontinued but you are still more than welcome to keep reading!
part two part three
The summer sun beats down on the pool that's filled with people swimming, splashing, and just generally just trying to soak up the last few days of summer before school starts again. It's so hot that you can feel your flesh burning underneath your many layers of sunscreen. You're there because you know you're really going to miss the pool when you go back to college next week.
Most of the other women, though, they're just there for him. Every day, you watch them fix themselves, touching up their hair and pulling down the tops of their swimsuits to show off their cleavage. And he eats out of the palm of their hands, always making conversation, pulling down his sunglasses as he not so subtly flirts with them.
You seem to be the only one who's not on the receiving end of the flirting and you're starting to think that maybe it's because he knows who your dad is. It would make sense that he wouldn't want to involved with the daughter of the chief of police. And it's not like you care, anyway. You've always hated Billy.
You honestly just don't get the hype, why pretty much every woman in Hawkins is throwing themselves at him. Why wives and mothers are willing to ruin their marriages for that pig. Sure, you can admit that he's hot, but any admiration you might have always goes out the window anytime he opens his mouth.
He just says those dirty things for shock value and you have no idea why anyone ever believes him. You're sure that he just has a notebook filled with lines that he uses instead of speaking from his heart. That's not his thing because all he cares about is getting women into bed and as soon as he's done with them, he kicks them to the curb. It's nothing you haven't seen before.
Billy exits the back room to start his shift and you roll your eyes, adjusting your sunglasses on your face as you collect your things to leave. You can't take another minute of watching everyone fawn all over him. And besides, you really think you need to be in some AC.
You're leaving just as Billy is passing your lounge chair and just when you think he's going to head to his chair, he stops right in front of you, preventing you from leaving. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that always means that he's up to no good.
"Where ya goin', Hopper?" He asks and you pull your sunglasses down to show him just how unimpressed you are with him.
"Home, not that it isn't any of your business." Billy knows that you don't like him, but he just loves pisses you off. You're so hot when you're angry and the fact that it's aimed towards him makes it even more so.
"Aww, you can't play with me for a little longer?" He pouts and you just scoff. How do people actually fall for this shit? "I just got here."
"Afraid not," you shrug. Usually being short with people is a deterrent, but not with Billy. It only eggs him on. But you can't be bothered with making conversation with him.
"Our sisters are friends, why can't we be?" If Billy were a nice guy, you probably would have been friends with him, but he's not and the kind of friends he wants to be doesn't interest you.
"Because you don't have friends, Billy. And I really don't want to be whatever you do have so if you'll excuse me." You push past him and he watches you hurry towards the gate where you exit before disappearing from his view.
Once you're gone, he turns to head to his chair, but the sun reflects off something out of the corner of his eye. He heads over to the lounge chair where you had been lying and notices a book there. Billy picks it up and pulls down his sunglasses to get a better look at it. There's a man and woman on the cover. They're embracing and he's got his lips on her neck as she arches her back. He never would have expected you to read this kind of thing, but he supposes he doesn't know you very well.
He sticks the small book into the pocket of his swim trunks then makes the rounds of flirting with all of the MILFs before heading to his chair, pulling the book out once he's settled.
He flips to the first page and his eyes widen at how graphic it all is. It's not something he normally reads (he doesn't actually read at all) but he has to admit that he's intrigued. So much so that he does nothing but read until it's time for his break.
He's already halfway through when his shift is over and he makes sure to hide it in his bag so nobody can see it. Can't have people thinking he reads and especially not something like that. That would be too fucking embarrassing to actually admit it.
He hurries to his car to make sure no one will talk to him and is quick to peel out of the parking lot, driving faster than he definitely should have, but everyone is used to it by now. Well, they should be.
You arrive home just in time to make dinner. you head to El's room to tell her that you're back from the pool only to find her and Max on the floor, giggling while reading magazines. You're surprised to find someone who's not Mike, but you love that she actually has friend who's a girl. She definitely needs more female presences in her life and having one who's actually her age makes you nothing but happy for her.
"Oh, hello," you greet, still caught off guard by your guests.
"Hi," El responds, then gestures to the re4d head to the right of her. "This is Max. She's sleeping over."
"Did dad say this was okay?" You ask, suddenly taking on your older sister role as you put your hands on your hips.
"Yep," she nods, and you glare at her, staring into her eyes because you know how terrible of liar she is and she always cracks if you lean into her just a bit. Once you decide she's telling the truth, you ease up and go back to being her friend again.
You had met Max briefly over the years with giving El rides different places and such, but you've never actually been able to have a full-on conversation with her. Now you think you might have a chance. She actually seems normal compared to her gross step-brother.
"Hi," Max gives you a little wave.
"I'm y/n," you introduce yourself with a smile. "Well, dinner's ready if you guys are ready to eat." You leave the door open then head back towards the table.
The girls follow you and the three of you sit at the table, chewing on your waffles between conversation and your heart warms at hearing your sisters laughs. Just from what you've seen, you really like Max and the influence she has on El. That she's letting her be her own person which you've been so hard to do ever since she became your sister.
You really hope this friendship lasts, really hoping that doesn't mean that you have to talk to Billy. But anything for El. If her having a friend that actually cares about her interests means you have to actually speak to Billy Hargrove, then so be it.
After dinner, the three of you gather around the tv and watch some cartoons. The girls are giggling about something while whispering to each other and you hate that you're suddenly feeling left out, jealous. El would often call you her best friend and now you're just her older sister.
There's a knock on the door and you're grateful for something to distract you from your silly feelings. You excuse yourself and hurry to answer the door, not even thinking about who could be on the other side. You step back as Billy Hargrove comes into view. You're sure that this is all just a very vivid nightmare and hate that this man keeps taking over your thoughts. It isn't fair. It's your mind so you should have a say in what goes on in it, right?
You can't help but let your eyes rake over his body, taking in his very cropped tank top and very very short cut offs that have you feeling dizzy. How fucking dare he look so good when you're trying so hard to hate him?
"Hopper," he says with a smile and you feel gross that you actually like the way his last name sounds coming out of his mouth.
"Hargrove," you mutter, wanting him to get on with whatever he's going to say so he'll leave your property. You keep blinking and he's not going away. You even go as far pinching yourself just to be sure that this is real life.
"It's not a dream," he winks. "I'm actually here. I'm sure you've imagined this a lot, haven't you?"
"Not even once," you grimace at the thought. "Now what do you want? I'm kind of busy."
"Yeah, doing what? Getting off to the thought of me?" He's got on his signature smug smirk and you just so desperately want to smack him, but decide against it because you're sure that he would like it.
"Not even close. Now tell me what you're doing here before I grab my dad's shotgun." You're getting even more angry and Billy's feeling himself getting hard. He almost wants to say something even worse so you'll yell at him. That always makes him so fucking hard.
The girls are now off the couch, making their way to stand on either side of you, feeling the need to protect you from whoever you're threatening to shoot.
"What are you doing here?" Max asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Well, Maxine," he smiles, reaching into the back pocket of his shorts, pulling out the book that you left at the pool, so close to asking if you have another one he can borrow because now he's obsessed.
You snatch the book out of his hands and quickly flipping through the pages because there's no telling what he's done to it. Billy just stands there, amused by whatever you're doing with his arms crossed over his chest.
"What are you doing there, Hopper?" He asks, trying his best to bite back a laugh.
"Making sure none of the pages are stuck together," you glare and hand the book to El once you've flipping through every page. Max giggles at your joke but El just stares at you in confusion. You then step out on the porch and give Billy a shove, which catches him off guard.
"Now get lost, Hargrove," you glare and he knows he's got to get out of there before you see his hard on. He turns on his heel and descends the stairs and you definitely do not check out his ass as he heads to his car.
Once he's speeding away, you slam the door and swipe the book from El's hands, storming off to your room, letting your anger the best of you. The girls invite themselves inside and the three of you sit on your bed, the two of them waiting for you to tell the story of why you hate Billy so much. Too bad there isn't one.
"I fucking hate your brother," you tell Max and she just laughs because it's very obvious just by the way you speak to him.
"Join the club," she sighs. "Did he-did he do something to you?" She asks, suddenly concerned about your wellbeing.
"No," you shake your head. "He's just a pig but what else is new?"
"So you haven't-" she doesn't even need to finish her sentence and you don't want her to because you're grimacing now, images of Billy on top of your naked body pounding into you flash across your mind and you're concerned that your waffles aren't climbing up your throat. That you maybe, kind of actually like what you're seeing?
"No," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "I mean, c'mon, Max. And no offense, but I don't want to be discussing my sex life with a couple of thirteen year olds."
"Fair enough," Max nods.
"Do you like him?" El asks and you turn to her, confused by her question. Did she not see how you were talking to him? That's not how you treat people you like.
"Yeah, do you?" Max asks, genuinely curious. "It's okay if you do. A lot of girls do."
"Absolutely not."
"But you were checking out his ass," Max points out and you hadn't realized you were that obvious about it.
"He has a nice ass, sue me. Alright, let's put it this way since you guys don't seem to understand. If Billy were on fire and I had a glass of water, I'd drink it."
"Noted. So who do you like?"
"Nobody," you reply, which is true. "I mean, I used to have a huge crush on Steve Harrington in high school, but there hasn't been anyone since."
"Steve's your best friend," El tells you, almost as if she's confused.
"Right," you nod. "But I don't have feelings for him anymore." and you don't. The two of you kissed once at a party and it was too weird so you just went back to being friends.
"Well, he's a lot better than Billy," Max points out. He's actually a guy that Hopper would approve of. Steve's the kind of guy you can take to meet your parents and Billy's the kind of guy who you sneak in through your window."
You really wish you were with Steve because maybe then you wouldn't still be thinking about Billy and his slutty outfit. Well, maybe you'd be thinking about it, but then you could just go and to Steve's where he'd fuck you until you forgot Billy's name.
"No offense, but I don't need my little sister and her friend setting me up. I can get a date by myself, thank you very much." It's not that El doesn't believe you, but she hasn't seen you go on a single date since she's known you. You've always been independent, but she can see that you're lonely, that you crave companionship like she has with Mike.
She doesn't know what you do when you're away at school, but she hopes that if you did have a boyfriend that you'd tell her about it. The two of you are close, you share everything with each other, so she really hopes that there's nothing that you're keeping from her.
"I just want you to be happy," she says, grabbing hold of your hand.
"I am happy," you reply, giving her hand a squeeze. "I've got you and dad and that's all I need. I don't need some stupid boy getting in my way."
Max watches the two of you with admiration. She loves that Eleven has you in her life, that she has you to guide her through life. It really makes her wish that she had a sister of her own and not her stupid brother who doesn't even seem to care about her in any way, shape, or form. Sure, she has her mom who she wouldn't trade for anything, but it's not the same.
You notice her looking at you and you hold out her hand for her to take. She's hesitant, but she eventually takes your hand and you give hers a squeeze with a warm smile.
"You're one of us now," you tell her and she decides that's exactly what she wants to be, finally feeling she's apart of a family.
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You can't sleep. You're tossing and turning, constantly seeing the minutes pass by on the clock on your nightstand. You look over on the floor where the girls are sleeping in their sleeping bags because they insisted on staying the night in your room.
You can't seem to get the image of those damn shorts Billy was wearing out of your head and you really wished you had pulled him inside and had your way with him when you had the chance. You're convinced that he did it on purpose, offering up his best asset up on a platter and you almost took the bait.
If you had the option do it over, you would have pegged him the way that you were convinced that he was silently begging for. Why else would he have worn such short shorts for?
Or maybe you're just overthinking it. You have to be delusional because why the fuck would he have worn those for you? He should know that you wouldn't fuck him if he were the last man on earth, but do you kind of want to now?
Why do you suddenly want to see what the hype is about? You want to know if his dick is really as big as they say, to know if he's as good in bed as you've heard he is. You're just curious, you try to convince yourself. You're actually just wanting to see if they're right. If you'd like it. You're not attracted to him, no fucking way. This would purely be for research purposes.
You spend the rest of the night thinking about nothing but stupid Billy and his stupid great ass. You think about the two of you in all sorts of positions as you beg and plead for him to do more, to go harder, faster, and he listens, nothing but dirty words falling from his pretty lips as he pins you down to the counter in your kitchen. He's pressing your face into the countertop, thrusting in and out of your ass as one of his hands kneads your tit, making you moan so loud, but he's got your underwear stuffed into your mouth because he doesn't want you waking anyone up.
You wake up in disappointment, your dream so vivid that it almost felt real. You can't believe that you had sex dream about Billy of all people. and you liked it. How the fuck is it that just seeing him in those stupid shorts somehow rewired your brain and made you actually interested in him? You're pretty sure that you've actually gone mad.
You sit up in your bed and notice that the once occupied sleeping bags in the floor are now empty. You then look and see that it's already eleven in the morning. Even during the summer this is the latest you've slept in. You try to shake your thought from the night before and head out of your room to see your dad, El, and Max at the table, eating what looks like breakfast from McDonald's.
"Hey, sleepy head," Your dad greets you with a smile, pulling out the chair next to him that he's saved for you. You plop down and he shoves the bag over to you and upon opening it, you realize that it's your usual order.
"Sleep well?" He asks, reaching over to ruffle your hair and you slap his hand away. "Somebody's grumpy," he laughs then goes back to his biscuit.
"No, I didn't sleep well because somebody was snoring," you glare at El. It's not a total lie since she was snoring loudly, but you can't exactly tell your father of all people that you were thinking about Billy Hargrove in an inappropriate manner. In fact, you can't tell anyone at this table so you're just going to take it to the grave.
You're surprisingly quiet during the rest of breakfast and as soon as Jim and El leave to take Max home, you race to your room and grab your phone, feverishly dialing the number you know by heart as your heart beats rapidly in your chest.
You feel like your going to throw up as it rings for what feels like forever. You never call Steve about boy problems, but now you feel like you have to, to get confirmation that you're not actually going crazy. Steve is the person you feel like you can go to for anything, so why are you so nervous to tell him that you might be interested in Billy?
Maybe it's because you know he'll be grossed out or maybe it's because you're afraid he'll be jealous even though it's very clear that he's not even remotely interested in you romantically.
"Hello?" The familiar voice rings through the phone.
"Steve, hey," you greet. "Do you have time to talk?"
"Yeah, of course. What's up?" So you tell him everything and he listens like the great friend he is, only offering his opinion when he's asked for it. And that's why you always like talking to him. Because he genuinely listens and offers good advice and never judges you for what you have to say.
"You know how I said you can tell me anything?" He asks as soon as you finish speaking.
"Yeah."
"Yeah, I changed my mind." Well, so much for him not judging you.
"I spared you the details."
"And thank god for that. So what exactly is the reason you're telling me all of this?"
"Because I want to know if I'm totally crazy for wanting to go for it."
"Why should my opinion matter? If you want to fuck Billy, y/n, then fuck Billy. What do I care?" He genuinely doesn't care about your sex life and just wants to do what you want to do. He doesn't know why you're asking his permission to fuck Billy Hargrove.
"So I'm not crazy?" You're feeling even more nervous even though calling Steve was supposed to calm you down.
"Look, I'm not blind. The guy's hot, alright? And I think if you want go for it, you should."
"Thanks Steve."
"Anytime. And if you do go for it, please, please spare me the details."
"Will do," you nod even though he can't see you then hang up. You then hurry out of the room and head out to your car, preparing to head to the pool where you know Billy will be. If you're going to make this proposition, you want to do it face to face.
Billy hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since he showed up at your house yesterday. Seeing you in that large t-shirt made his brain short circuit, immediately wondering what you've got going on under it.
He wants you so bad and the fact that you don’t want anything to do with him makes his want even stronger. He sees it as a challenge. He thinks needs to flirt with you just a little more to get you to crack. He saw the way you were checking him out and now he’s thinking of cutting the shorts even shorter to give you a little taste of what you seem to want so badly.
He ended up buying another “bodice ripper” as he found out the novels are called at the book store and he just can’t fucking put it down. He’s even more interested in the story now since he’s cast you and him as the leads.
Sebastian has got his hand up Juliette’s dress and Billy’s just imagining what it would be like to get his fingers inside you. He’d tease you about how wet you are then got to town, fucking you with his fingers, making you come over and over, until you’re begging for his massive cock.
He’s thinking about you so much that he swears that he sees you out of the corner of his eye, making your way over to him in a hurry. God, he’s really got to stop thinking with his dick.
But you’re calling his name, so it must be real, right? He looks down and from this angle, he’s got the perfect view of your cleavage. He’s so distracted by it that he’s not even paying attention to what you’re saying. He sees your lips moving-god, your lips. He doesn’t usually kiss during sex, but he suddenly wants to kiss you stupid. He wants to kiss you while he grinds against you, making you beg for his-
“Billy?” You ask and he finally snaps out of his dirty fantasy, his eyes snapping up to your face.
“Hm?”
“Can we talk for a second?” Is that code for you wanting to hook up? Whatever you want, he’s in. He climbs down the ladder then comes to meet you face to face.
“What is it, doll?” He asks, his voice so smug because he’s finally able to read you like a book. You’re nervous, guard completely down and he’s loving that he’s finally gotten through to you.
“Can we talk…in private?” You’re picking at the skin around your thumb nail and he’s wondering why you just won’t just come right out and ask him. Yeah, you definitely want his cock.
He blows his whistle and you cover your ears as checks his watch. It’s time for his break anyway so he calls for an adult swim before grabbing you by the hand and taking you into the locker room. This isn’t the first hookup he’s had during his break and it definitely won’t be the last.
He’s not going to give in right away, though. He wants you to beg. He wants you to be whining for him before he even lays a hand on you. He’s certain that he’s so powerful that he could make you come just with his words. And that’s exactly what he intends to do.
“So you finally want me to fuck you, huh, doll?” He asks as he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, removing one from the pack, then lighting up.
Normally, you find smoking to be disgusting, but when Billy does it, he’s so fucking hot that it’s unfair. The way he puts it between his lips-god, his pretty pink lips-and blows the smoke out like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
You don’t admit it like you were intending, you just take his hand and a pen from your purse before scribbling down an address then fleeing the locker room. He looks down at your pretty, neat handwriting and realizes that he recognizes the address. It’s the Motel 6 on Cornwallis where he was supposed to meet Karen Wheeler before she bailed.
He smiles to himself as he’s finally gotten another one then spends the rest of his break thinking about all the ways he’s going to make an absolute mess of you.
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Billy is already at the motel when you get there. He’s leaning against the fence of the pool, with his back facing you, smoking yet another cigarette. He’s wearing the same outfit from when he showed up at your house, but this time, the shorts are even shorter. So short, in fact, that his ass is hanging out. God, what you would give to give it a squeeze. To use it as your personal stress ball as he fucks you. What you would give to give it a much needed spanking.
You approach him and pluck the cigarette from his lips, putting it between your own and taking a drag, only to cough immediately.
“Jesus, take it easy, Hopper,” he says as he takes the cigarette back from you.
You’re still coughing and Billy doesn’t know why he’s so worried, lightly patting your back to help you out, suddenly wishing he had some sort of beverage to make it all go away. He doesn't know when his hands started rubbing smooth circles along your back, but you’re stepping closer to him, feeling much more brave than he is. 
“I’m good, I’m good,” you tell him. “Sorry.” 
“Why are you apologizing?” You actually don’t know why, but feel like you should.
“I don’t know. Now c’mon,” you lift the latch of the gate that leads to the pool and open it slowly before taking Billy by the hand, leading him through the gate. His fingers are rough but somehow soft and you can’t wait to have them roaming all over your body. 
The lights that are lining the inside of the pool somehow make the dingy coloring even more so, but the heat of the night is making it look inviting despite how gross it looks. You just want to dive right in and take a swim. You don’t care if it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years, you just need to feel the cool water against your skin. 
So, you begin to strip. It’s not by any means sexy like you wanted it to be as you’re just desperate to just get out of your clothes. And Billy doesn’t even seem to be phased by this, just checking you out as you pull off your shirt and shorts so you’re just left in your bra and panties. He barely even gets the chance to look at your body before diving into the water, just staring at you, confused as your head pops up from the water. 
Apparently Billy didn’t get the swimming memo since he’s still standing there, fully clothed. So, he’s quick to get down to his underwear and follow you, diving into the water, probably (definitely) not looking nearly as graceful as you. 
“Never pegged you for a bad girl Hopper,” he says as he surfaces, pushing his hair out of his face. You’re over by the shallow end, sitting on one of the steps, running your fingers through your hair, trying to get the knots out. 
“That just goes to show how little you know about me, Hargrove,” you reply as he sits next to you. The lights in the pool usually make people look not so great, but you look absolutely beautiful in the blue-green hue. He really wishes he had a camera so he could capture this moment, you looking at him with that sweet smile. 
You scoot closer to him, so that your bare thighs are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck, twirling a piece of his hair around your pointer finger. Your face is inching your face towards his. His hands wrap around his waist as his lips find yours in a gentle kiss. Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been this gentle with a woman, and just as he’s starting to enjoy it, you kick it up a notch, tilting your head to the side as your tongue slides into his mouth. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long and it feels so good. 
Your lips are soft and you taste sweet, but he can’t quite make out what it is. He could do just this for hours and be satisfied. He doesn’t why he always denies this part of sex, but he thinks he’s just enjoying it because it’s you. He lets out a moan as you tug on his hair, now straddling his lap. 
“Fuck,” he whines into your mouth as your fingers wind into his hair, giving it a tug at his scalp as you bite down on his bottom lip. You’re now grinding against him and his nails dig into your hips, his head falling backwards, giving you the perfect opportunity to kiss his neck. 
They start out soft and gentle, but then you’re using your tongue, licking and sucking on his skin, driving him absolutely crazy. He’s hard beyond belief and he swears he’s going to come right there just because of what you’re doing with your mouth, your wonderful talented mouth. 
He’s seeing stars, whining and moaning as you work on his neck, giving him a hickey. As nice as this is, as much as he’s enjoying it, he needs to get inside you because he’s about to bust. You bite down on the skin and he moans again, your name slipping from his lips. You’ve got him right where you want him and you’re sure that he’s ready now. 
Your lips find his again, desperate and hungry, still grinding against him and he’s getting harder by the second. His hip buck against yours and you move so he can get his underwear off and you remove your own before settling yourself onto his cock. 
“You’re so big,” you tell him and his eyes light up at your observation. He’s very well aware of this, but hearing it from you is a huge compliment. He loves seeing you like this, on top of him in nothing but your bra. This is something he could only dream about, something he has dreamed about even though he’d never admit it. 
You watch him come undone as you begin to ride him, eating up how quickly you were able to dominate him. It’s clear that you have the control here and he’s loving it. He’s always on top, but letting you take the lead is much more fun. He wants you to boss him around, to make him your bitch. 
“Yeah? You like that?” You ask and he nods, feeling fucked out already and you’ve barely even done anything. Maybe it’s because he never engages in foreplay so he has more energy for the main event. “Look at you. Already tired, baby?” God, he really wants you to call him that again. 
“No,” he replies through a deep breath, bucking his hips against yours. “Keep going.”
You continue, moving faster as his hands move up to remove your bra as he continues to buck his hips against yours, trying his best to keep up with you. As soon as your chest is bare, he can’t help but stare, watching your tits bounce up and down. And just when he thought you couldn’t get any hotter. 
“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” you moan as you pick up your pace, and Billy’s pretty sure that it’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard. You moan again and again as his hips buck against yours, wanting to make you feel as good as you’ve made him feel.
There’s no way he can fuck anyone else after this. It’s like someone mediocre going on stage to perform right after Prince. This is easily the best sex he’s ever had and it’s not even over. He’s got to have you every night for the rest of his life now. And if this night is all you’re wanting from him, then maybe he’ll just refrain from ever sleeping with anyone ever again. 
Although, he’d never admit any of this to you. His ego won’t allow it. He likes being complimented, but he’s never one to do so unless it directly benefits him. Well, except for him telling you how pretty you looked. That was just because he wanted to. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, doll,” he moans as he comes and you don’t even care if he pulls out. You just help him ride his high and you’re close, your eyes shut tight as his name rolls off your lips. And fuck does it feel good to hear you scream it. 
“Billy, oh my god. His name tumbles out of your mouth as you reach your peak reached and fuck does it feel good for him to hear you scream it. 
Once you’ve come down, you climb off him and hurry to retrieve your underwear, Billy quickly following behind even though he’s not as in a rush as you are. He wants to stay here for a little longer, just to hold you in his arms and shower you with compliments. He might even actually tell you that you’re the best he’s ever had. 
“If I’m not home by ten, I’m going to be dead,” you tell him and now he understands, because of course Jim Hopper would still have his daughter under curfew even though she’s an adult now. 
He doesn’t know what time it is, but doesn’t want to be the reason why you’re late so he lets you go, not getting dressed nearly as quickly as you, but he’s still trying to keep up. He’s wondering how you don’t completely hate the wet clothes against your skin and how you’re going to explain that to your dad, but he supposes that isn’t any of his business. 
So he watches you slip on your flip flops as he gets out of the pool with his underwear on. He’s pulling on his shorts which is proving to be a struggle, but he eventually gets them on and throws on his shirt as he’s hurrying to catch up with you, following you to your car. 
“Well, this was fun,” you tell him with a bright smile. “We should do it again sometime. You can get the house number from Max, right? I’m sure he has it.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Great. Don’t be a stranger, alright?” You ask, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek before you get into your car. You start it up and Billy watches you back out of the parking lot, knowing that he’s going to be giving you a call very soon.
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mercurial-chuckles · 2 months ago
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On the qui vive
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader WC: ~1k Warnings: Fluff | Established relationship | Absolutely-in-love Bucky | Protective Bucky | Bucky painting your toenails | Bucky taking care of some business (mob elements) | Bucky being hot and incorrigible | Allusions to spicy times | Some language | Very much unbeta'd | Let me know if I missed anything! A/N: Sorry, I haven't been on much here. Found a thought in my drafts and put together something haphazardly for Hot Bucky Summer 2025 | Week 02 Prompt: "Did I give you permission?" | @buckybarnesevents Thank you for hosting. 😊✨🥹💞 Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! I do not consent to AI scraping my work. Banner & Divider made by me. Picture credits to Pinterest. Check out my other works: Masterlist Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist
Indulge Away!
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Damn it!
You scrambled around the hotel suite.
You were supposed to be on time. You always told yourself you'd have everything sorted and ease into important days with a calm, relaxed start. But nope. That version of you clearly didn't exist. A miserable case of chaos was what you were.
Gawd!
Bucky was to be blamed anyway. He'd flown in late last night, and he didn't let you out of the bed ever since he stepped foot into the hotel room. And he thwarted every attempt of you sneaking out of the bed this morning, dragging you right back into his arms. You couldn't believe sometimes that he could be so insatiable despite being married for more than a decade now.
Your husband was a ridiculously sinful man, indeed! Not that you usually complained about your husband's incorrigible loving ways. But today was an important day, and you should be there on time.
You had a luncheon with the whole team today before your book launch tomorrow, and Jeremy would absolutely have your head if you were late to your own event. You'd already been two minutes late to the dinner meeting last night. To be fair, that wasn't really your fault either. You got held up by a couple of women who somehow recognized you. You hadn't expected anyone to know you, especially not in Venice, so far from home. It was endearing. You'd been so flustered when they asked for your autograph that you walked into the meeting grinning like an idiot, only to get an earful from Jeremy for being late.
Yesterday was a simple team dinner, but today was important, and you couldn't be late by a second.
You heard the loud yawn, followed by a grunt.
Fucking Finally!
"Bucky, hurry up, will ya?" you called out to him.
"I'm almost ready, pretty girl," came his gravelly rasp.
You'd both gotten maybe a couple of hours of sleep between stuff. You turned just in time to see him walking out of the bedroom, phone against his ear, as he said, "Good," before placing the phone down on the kitchen counter.
He wandered over, buttoning up his white shirt at such a seductively slow pace, you grunted annoyedly at him for various reasons.
Jesus Christ! He looked divine.
You sat cross-legged on the ottoman, rushing to paint your toenails because, of course, you didn't get to do them earlier. No thanks to your husband. You figured you could get it done while Bucky got dressed lazily, leisurely.
Whatever was up with him today.
He strolled over, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth that you cut hurriedly for you both a few minutes earlier.
And then he met your eyes.
Shit.
The second he looked at you, you knew. Bucky knew. You didn't know who snitched, but after nearly fifteen years with Bucky Barnes, you shouldn't be so surprised. Your husband always knew when someone so much as breathed your way wrong.
You'd actually been relieved he wasn't at the dinner last night. Because if he had been, things would've gone very differently. Henry, your executive publisher, had cornered you. He was drunk and touchy, and you managed to wiggle out of the situation without making a scene. Mostly because you didn't want to see bloodshed. But the second it happened, you knew it would've been a disaster if Bucky had seen it. So yeah, you were glad he'd been delayed. Even if part of you wished he'd been there to stop it from happening at all.
He sank onto the couch in front of you, dragging your foot into his lap.
You tried to wiggle away, but his grip tightened around your calf.
"Stay still," he warned in a dangerously low voice. Nevertheless, you squirmed.
"We don't have much time," you argued, worry gnawing at you.
"Don't worry, pretty girl. I got you," he said calmly, and he took the little bottle of nail polish from your hand.
"You'll ruin your trousers," you muttered.
"Gotta be still then, Sweetheart," He hummed softly, too jaunty, for your liking. Bucky painted the first toe carefully. It was utterly unbelievable how quickly he unraveled you.
You watched him, waiting for him to ask you, but he didn't, making you groan internally. And the longer he kept painting, the more nervous you got.
"Should I just tell you?" you mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky didn't look up. "Tell me what, beautiful?"
"You know what."
"Do I?" He raised his eyes, and that dark gleam in them made your stomach twist. It was dangerous, that look, especially for your poor heart, always ready to topple you more and more into him.
Your phone rang. Jeremy. You answered quickly.
"Hey! Promise I won't be late. Ten minutes tops…" Jeremy, however, cut you off your babbling, "You didn't hear?" he said urgently.
"Hear what?" you asked confused.
"Henry. He was in some kind of accident this morning. It's serious. We gotta cancel the lunch."
You froze. "Is he…?"
"No idea. It's all over the place. Ronald called and said something about him losing an arm. It's bizarre. I put him in a cab last night, and he was fine." Jeremy sighed before he continued, "I don't know what happened, but I'll update you when I can. The launch is still on for tomorrow though. I'll send over the new schedule soon."
You set your phone aside, mind still trying to process. You went to pull your foot back, but Bucky didn't let go.
"Did I give you permission to move, Mrs. Barnes? You'll mess up all my hard work." he chuckled, casually blowing on your toes.
"Bucky," you hissed, "What the hell did you do?"
He took his time. Capped the polish. Set it down. Then lifted your leg over his shoulder and tugged you onto the couch beneath him.
"Bucky."
He kissed the curve of your neck, then licked a slow path to your ear. You let out a lewd moan, an entirely inappropriate reaction to the feeling of dread settling in your tummy. Bucky pressed himself against you, one hand cupped your face and the other wandered toward your chest, palming your tits.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping him to find your losing sanity, "What. Did. You. Do?"
He finally met your gaze.
"He shouldn't have touched you, doll," he said softly, his breath warm against your lips, his stubble brushing against your skin, and dousing you in his sweet, sinful smell.
"Be grateful he's still breathing."
"Bucky…" His name caught in your gasping breath, and he smiled at you reverently, and gawd, you knew you had to put some sense into your man, but fuck, did you love him so goddamn much.
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Well?
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Leave your thoughts if you enjoyed reading it. 💞✨
If you'd like to be tagged/removed from my works, please do so here.
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billiesoxytocin · 3 months ago
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parent-teacher conference
pairing: wanda maximoff x female reader
summary: reader is billy and tommy's new teacher. milf!wanda comes down for the termly parent-teacher conference and uh.... things escalate..... somehow.... a little heavy on the plot building too, i feel.
warnings: 18+ mdni. legal age gap. cheating-ish (but not really) wanda using her telekinetic powers on you. sliiiiiiight mommy kink.
word count: 2.6k
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monday
"goodbye, my darlings," you hummed as you let go of the twins before they went running to their dad, as they always do.
or not.
you stood corrected when your eyes followed their movements, leading you to whom you thought was the most gorgeous woman you've ever laid your eyes on.
"holy shit..." you mumbled, your eyes wandering from her luscious ginger locks, to her green eyes and down to her legs that went on for days.
"wanda maximoff"
yelena's voice interrupted your thoughts as she smirked in your direction.
you nodded slowly, not even the least embarrassed that you were caught staring at your student's mother. you watched as the woman helped the boys into the car before she went in and drove away.
a breath left your system. you didn't even know you were holding your breath.
"she's–"
"hot, i know"
you turned to look at the other teacher, only to see her looking at you with a knowing smile.
"how come she's never picked up the boys before this? i mean, i've only been here for a month but still," you wondered out loud as you both started walking back into the staff room.
the blonde just shrugged, as she crossed her arms. "busy woman, i assume. ceo and everything"
your lips pursed as you nodded in approval.
damn. ceo, huh?
you cleared your throat as a thought crosses your mind. "will uh– she be here for the parent teacher conference this friday?"
yelena snickers in amusement, looking at you incredulously as she pushes open the staff room door. "i wouldn't bet on it"
a small pout of disappointment appears on your face as you unconsciously longed to see the redhead again. the 2 introductory minutes you had to see her simply left you yearning for more.
wednesday
"this is so unfair," tommy whined as he threw his bag onto the floor.
you closed the classroom door and turned to give him a glare. he sunk down in his seat under your stare, and you couldn't help the small smile that eventually made its way to your face.
you adored your students, you really do. you knew incidents like these were bound to happen when you took on the job of caring for 5th graders.
"keith went home with a bloody nose, tommy," you sighed as you took a seat on your chair across from the kid.
he looks down at his crossed arms, a look mixed between guilt and pride on his face.
"look, i know you didn't mean it. but i'm still going to have a conversation with your dad about this"
as if right on cue, two knocks were heard from the wooden door of the classroom. you rose an eyebrow at the kid before you walked over to the door, mentally preparing yourself to speak to mr vision.
"hello, thank you for– oh"
your breath hitched as you laid your eyes on the familiar redhead in standing in front of you.
"hi! you must be ms y/l/n, we haven't met"
oh god. her voice.
"right– yes. that's me,” you cleared your throat as you tried your best to dial down the surprise in your demeanour.
the woman flashed you a toothless smile that had you weak in the knees as she held out a hand.
“wanda maximoff”
your bottom lip was tucked behind your two front tooth as you fought the foolish grin threatening to appear on your face.
your shaky hands reached out to take her hand in yours for a firm hand shake.
“y/n y/l/n, but you already knew that– anyway please, come in and have a seat. wherever you want. though, beside your son would be ideal”
the woman let out an amused chuckle at your rambling as she walked past you, the scent of her perfume hitting your senses delightfully.
“fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you sucked in a breath to stabilise yourself.
get your shit together, y/n.
you hurried over to your seat behind your desk before shooting her another smile.
“i told mr vision briefly what happened on the phone, i’m not sure if you’re informed that little tommy here was involved in a fi-“
“it was barely a fight,” tommy groaned as he covered his face with his hands.
“no, no, tommy don't interrupt. let your pretty teacher speak,” ms maximoff says nonchalantly, her eyes never leaving yours and an almost sinister smile plastered on her face.
you felt heat rising to your cheeks at her choice of words, quickly breaking the eye contact before she could figure out just how flustered you were.
you cleared your throat for what felt like the tenth time since this conversation started.
“um- yeah, the other kid keith, went home with a bloody nose and a fuming mother. i’m not entirely sure what went down, so tommy– the floor is yours”
tommy lets out an exasperated, dramatic sigh before starting off his side of the story.
at first, you nodded in acknowledgement as you actively listened to the kid. but it was when you glanced at the woman beside him and caught her staring straight at you.
you blinked once, giving her a shy smile of acknowledgement.
she never looked away.
and neither could you, truthfully.
green orbs turned into red, and it was as if you were caught in a trance. you watched as her lips opened slightly, and suddenly you felt hot breath on your neck.
what. the. fuck.
your hands clamped down hard on your thighs in attempt to calm yourself down as your mind tried to fight both the intimidation and arousal that’s being caused by the redhead.
you flinched as you felt a sudden warmth surround your body. and you somehow knew it was the doing of wanda.
“jumpy little thing, are you?”
and suddenly it was cold again.
you blinked once, sitting up as you broke out from the trance you were in. refusing to acknowledge what wanda had just said to you, you turned to tommy to see that he had indeed finished explaining his side of the story and was staring expectantly in your direction.
"thank you for that, tommy. ms maximoff–"
"–wanda, please"
you paused and gulped, nodding once. it took every fibre of your being to look away from the redhead's eyes.
"tommy, wait in the car please. mommy will be there soon"
mommy will be there soon
you almost choked on your spit as you heard the words come out of her mouth.
why was that so hot?
you watched as tommy grabs his backpack and dashes out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.
shit. what now?
"well, uh– thank you for coming down, mrs maximoff–"
the loud sound of the chair being dragged across the floor cut me off as the redhead stands up abruptly. she placed both her palms on your desk, towering over you with a menacing smile on her face.
"what did i just say, pretty girl?"
you couldn't help but feel small as you looked up at her nervously. you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
she lets out a small chuckle that made your heart do backflips. a hand reaches to push a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear, and you had to fight the urge to lean into her touch.
"perhaps mommy will be easier for you to say. what do you think?"
she takes a look at your stunned demeanor and snickers, her thumb softly swiping against your bottom lip.
it felt as though you couldn't move. and even if you could, you wouldn't even know what to do.
she lets out a little sigh before pulling away, turning around to grab her purse.
"i'll see you this friday?"
you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, although your stomach was fluttering at the thought of seeing her again so soon.
"y-you're coming?"
she turns to look at you and winked, "only if you want me to"
friday
two knocks on your door snaps you out of the anxious episode you were in. a loud gasp left your lips, loud enough for the person on the other end of the door to hear.
"relax, it's just me"
you heard yelena's voice before the door was pushed open, revealing the smirking blonde.
you let out a relieved sigh, your thumb rubbing the sides of your temple.
"i take it that she hasn't shown up yet?"
you shook your head, a frustrated whine leaving your system. "she's killing me, lena"
she chuckles before taking a seat opposite you, where all the other parents have sat on throughout the evening.
"look, i get that she's a milf," she starts off and you looked up to glare at her, "but you really don't have to be this nervous. she's just like every other parent"
other parents don't put you in a trance and make you call them mommy, yelena.
before you could think of an appropriate response to yelena, the classroom door burst open. a ragged-breathing redhead came into view and you immediately felt your heart drop to your stomach.
"sorry, i'm late, dear"
yelena gave her a quick smile and a nod of acknowledgement before she got off the chair and left the room, closing the door shut.
"that your girlfriend?" wanda asks as she strides over to where yelena was once sat.
you snickered slightly, nervously as you shook your head. "just a colleague, mrs-"
you stopped yourself, remembering the situation you caught yourself in with the redhead just a few days prior. you were definitely NOT about to call your students' parent, mommy.
you cleared your throat, looking up at her to see her already boring her green eyes into you, a small smirk playing on her lips.
"just a colleague," you repeated yourself more convincingly this time.
wanda crossed her legs, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor as she leaned forward, arms resting on her knees. her eyes never left yours.
“you seem nervous, ms y/l/n.”
you blinked. “me? n-no, i’m–”. you paused, glancing down at your clipboard just to look at anything but her. “just a long day. lots of parents.”
“mm. and yet you seem to save the best for last.” her voice was low, velvet with mischief.
you almost dropped your pen. “i—i don’t get to choose the order, the slots are randomly assigned–”
wanda tilted her head, her red hair spilling over her shoulder. “relax, sweet girl. i’m just teasing.”
her smile deepened when she noticed the way your shoulders tensed at the pet name.
you managed a polite nod, flipping through tommy’s file like it actually mattered right now. like your heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of your chest.
“i can hear your heartbeat from here,” wanda murmured, eyes half-lidded. “so loud, so fast. does mommy make you nervous, baby?”
your pen slipped from your hand, clattering to the floor. you bent down, cheeks burning, but before you could reach it—
you froze.
you couldn’t move.
your body locked in place, suspended just an inch above the ground, arms mid-reach, knees slightly bent.
and then she appeared beside you, crouching gracefully, hand outstretched with a glimmering red thread dancing between her fingers.
“hmm,” she whispered, lips almost at your ear. “look at you. so tense. poor thing.”
her magic curled like silk around your thighs, slithering beneath your skirt, warm and electric and everywhere. your breath hitched.
“wanda—”
"don't worry, baby. i'm going to take real good care of you."
a red surge flowed through you, and you were gently but firmly pulled upright, seated back in your chair like a puppet on strings. the door clicked shut with a flick of her wrist. blinds twisted closed. lights dimmed.
"do you trust me, sweet girl?" her voice was low and soft, with edge to it.
you looked up at the wanda who was looking at you almost lovingly, and that itself made you nod without a second thought.
the air in the room has become incredibly thick. wanda stood before you, the red in her irises glowing brighter, more ravenous. her hand falls slightly on the side of your face, and she feels the slight tremble on your skin.
“nervous,” she husks, now whispering against your ear. “or needy?”
you whimpered.
her lips brushed your earlobe. “tell me to stop.”
you didn’t.
“that’s what i thought,” she purred, and before you could even process it, a shimmer of red dragged across your core — not fingers, but pressure, warmth, movement. like she was touching you with invisible hands, everywhere at once. your hips jerked, legs trembling, but the magic held you still.
“wet already? god, you’re so easy, aren’t you?”
your hips jolted slightly, and she chuckled. the sound was low and dark and entirely in control.
“look at you. trying so hard to be composed. miss professional,” she mocked gently as the magic grew bolder — teasing your clit with firm, precise circles, even as a phantom pressure slipped inside you, thick and curling just right. it felt too good, too overwhelming, and you couldn’t squirm away. couldn’t stop it.
“but this pretty pussy’s begging, isn't she?"
her mouth ghosted over your jaw. “look at you. tied down, stuffed full, and still trying to pretend you’re not enjoying it.”
you whimpered.
“say it,” she whispered, breath hot against your ear. “say you like it.”
“i—I like it,” you gasped, shame thick in your voice.
her tongue licked a slow stripe up your neck. “mm. that’s a good girl.”
your hand shot out, bracing yourself against the desk. “wanda—please…”
she hummed like she was considering it. “mm, try again, baby”
your eyes rolled back as you felt her magic, whatever, teasing you. you were so close, but it felt as if she was purposely holding you out.
fuck it.
"mommy, please..."
stillness settled over the room.
wanda stilled like a predator who’d finally cornered its prey — pleased, hungry, and so devastatingly in control.
she exhaled slowly, as if savouring the sound of it. her eyes fluttered shut for just a second, and when they opened again, the red glow had deepened.
“say that again,” she whispered.
you swallowed, voice barely steady. “mommy.”
a small, pleased laugh escaped her lips — not mocking, not cruel. proud. warm.
“there’s my good girl.”
with that, you felt it — her powers humming around your skin, invisible threads of scarlet that coiled like silk. they slipped under your clothes, not ripping or tearing, but pulling. adjusting. lifting. like she was unwrapping you, slowly, carefully. reverently.
the pressure increased — harder, faster, more. the magic rolled through you in waves, forcing you open, dragging you to the edge without mercy. and wanda watched it all unfold with a terrifying calm, eyes glowing as you writhed in her hold.
"come for me,” she commanded.
and you did.
the orgasm ripped through you like lightning, your cry strangled in your throat, thighs shaking as wave after wave hit you — magic holding you upright even as your body collapsed under the pleasure.
finally, the invisible bonds eased. your wrists dropped limp to your lap, and you slumped forward, breathing hard, trembling all over.
wanda brushed a thumb across your cheek, almost gentle now.
“you’ll be thinking of this all weekend,” she whispered. “and next time?”
she leaned in, lips barely grazing yours.
“you’ll beg for my fingers instead.”
then she turned, her heels clicking on the tile, door swinging open with another casual flick of her magic — leaving you ruined and dazed, sitting in a puddle of your own need behind your desk.
read: my sweet girl (part 2)
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sweatervest-obsessed · 2 years ago
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Unexpected Visitor
Pairing: Spencer Reid x G!n Reader
WC: 788
A/N: A lil Spencer Xmas Blurb while I figure my shit out. Also! I'm imagining older seasons Spencer for this one.
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"Hi! I'm, uh, so sorry to bug you but, um, do you know where Spe--Doctor Reid's desk is? Or, really, where D-Doctor Reid is?" .
Derek Morgan had to get his shit together because his jaw almost dropped when you walked in. What was some hot piece of ass doing, dressed like that, looking for Boy Genius.
He jumped up from his chair and strolled over to where you had stopped Garcia, who was just as flabbergasted as he was. "Reid is currently in a meeting sweetheart--may I ask what you, uh, want with him?"
You raised your eyebrows at the 'sweetheart', but smiled anyways. "He was supposed to be home about an hour ago and he wasn't answering his phone, so instead of panicking, because I know what you do for work, I wanted to come in and check before I lost my shit."
"Home?" Garcia squeaked out, still baffafled by how gorgeous you looked. It was like you were sent straight from heaven, a literal vision.
You nodded and tilted your head, slightly confused. "Y-Yeah...I'm sorry why is that---"
"We just didn't know Reid was living with anyone, let alone seeing someone."
"Ah." You nodded. "He's private like that, isn't he." Your smile warmed the two of them, and you shifted the coat from one arm to the other.
"y/n?"
You turned your head towards the back of the bullpen, and Spencer was walking out of Hatch's office. "What are you doing here?"
"Being introduced to your friends and coworkers since you haven't."
Spencer bit the inside of his cheeks and walked over to you both, placing his hand on the small of your back. You felt how tense he was.
"I'm here because our reservation is in twenty minutes and you said you'd be home over an hour ago." You looked at Spencer, whose eyes went a little wide.
"Shit. I-I didn't realize what time it was---"
"I have your suit in the car, and this is why I made the reservation for eight pm, instead of Seven."
"And this is why I love you." Spencer kissed your head and rushed over to his desk, scrambling to grab all of his papers and his bag and his coat and his scarf and his--
"Hi Y/n." Spencer looked up at the mention of your name, pausing in his frantic nature.
"Hi Aaron." You gave him a quick hug, but a bright smile. "How are you?"
"Well." He laughed a little. "I'd be better if we didn't have to work the day before Christmas Eve since I still need to wrap all of Jack's presents still."
"Oh how is Jack!"
"He's doing well. finally starting to enjoy reading, no thanks to you."
You laughed at his joke, all the while Derek and Garcia just shared an incredulous look. How the hell did you know Hotch? Jack?!? Why does Jack's reading habits connect to you--
"Ready sweetheart?" Spencer appeared at your side and you nodded. "It was lovely to see you Aaron. I'll stop by some time tomorrow to drop off Jack's gifts as well as yours. I got it when Spence I and went to Paris last month. I think you'll enjoy it!"
"That's why you weren't here for two weeks?" Penelope's jaw was on the floor. "I didn't take you to be a Parisian man Doctor Reid."
"W-Well, um--"
"It was for my birthday. My choice. I love art and museums so it made sense. Well, it was lovely to meet you all but we have a reservation to get to." You gave them all a quick smile before taking Spencer's hand and walking towards the elevator, your shoes clicking on the floor with every step you took.
"How long have the two of them been together?" Morgan turned to Hotch after you both had gotten in the elevator.
"I think today is their two year anniversary."
"TWO YEARS." Garcia clutched her hypothetical pearls. "How have I not known? How have WE not known?"
"He's private, and...well. You know Y/n."
"No we clearly do not know Hotch."
Hotch gave them a little smirk and a shrug. "Merry Christmas guys. I'll see you on the twenty-seventh."
As Hotch walked away, Garcia and Morgan just stared at one another. "So we're..."
"Going to spend then next ten minutes in my office finding everything out about this mystery person Spencer has been apparently dating for two years?"
"You read my mind mama. A little Christmas snooping never hurt anyone..."
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months ago
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For requests just some fluff/comfort for Charles :(((( even better if it’s dad Charles I just want some comfort fr
A/N: Ugh haven't had the itch to write in a hot minute but right now school is doing well soooo in a good mood to write
He just wanted to go home, he wanted to be home instead of standing in this media pen pretending everything was fine, he had hope the car was going to do well, he didn't, and that he was happy for Lewis doing well, nope he wanted it to be him.
"Oh, congratulations on your baby, you and Max are now matching in the newborn and new dad department huh?" The reporter asks, the mention of his baby has everything melting away, the anger, resentment, the despair and utter darkness. He could see their little hand wrapped his one finger, matching eyes with his, but your hair, and little matching nose.
Charles lights up, everyone notices the shift in the Ferrari drive as he beams, "Yes, well Max already has his stepdaughter that he thinks of as his own, so he's not technically a new dad, but yeah we've both been keeping the paddock updated with all the new baby photos and constantly showing them off. "So, did you have a boy or a girl?" They ask, his smile wavering a little.
Your one request so far was not to share much, all you shared was a little photo of the baby holding one of Charles's rings with him wearing it. Announcing the baby was here and you two were doing well that was it, you wanted to recover, feeling like yourself before giving the world into thoughts and insights of your family.
"Ahhh, well that's private for now, all I can say is they're doing well, perfectly happy and healthy and just can't get enough of the contact naps and taking pictures of them." He says smiling, seeing the disappointment in the reporter not catching him off guard. "Anyways, I should be heading home, now, thank you," Charles says into the mic and steps away, not caring he's ending his media duties early.
He wanted to get home to you and the baby.
--------------------------------
The last thing you remember was cheering for Charles and laying on your side, placing the bassinet next to the couch, lowered so you could see over it as you watched the race, but soon it went dark as you fell asleep. Before long you're woken to soft jingle of keys on the glass coffee table and soft french being spoken.
"Oh, hello my gorgeous little girl, have you been good for your Mama?" He whispers not wanting to wake you, not even the slightest bit upset at you for sleeping during the race. Whenever he was home, he took the nightly feeds and diaper changes trying to help you wherever he could. "Aria, my sweet baby girl, Papa missed you greatly," He hums as she coos still so small and fragile he was scared he'd hurt her.
"Your home," Charles looks up from the bassinet and smiles softly, "I couldn't wait any longer, never been happier to come home after a race," You smile at those words and reach your hand out, letting the cold metal of his rings sting against your warm skin. "Was she much trouble? I was worried with me being gone..." "Charles you faked an illness so you could stay home an extra day," You sigh and he hangs his head, looking down at your sleeping daughter, "It was worth it," his smile so bright.
"How'd the race go?" Asking carefully, yes he seemed happy, but you knew he hadn't stop smiling since the birth of little Aria. "Don't worry about it," Moving around the bassinet he moves you a little and lays down behind you before pulling you right back into him. "I'm sorry," You whisper, knowing he'd talk to you about it when the time was right, "Don't be sorry, you gave me something better than a trophy," He hums.
"Charles, don't be cheesy," You groan making him chuckle as he moves draping his arm over you and laying his hand into the bassinet on Aria's stomach, "Sorry, it was right there," Lips gently kissing the back of your neck, "Shameless you are," "If I was truly shameless I'd be flashing her picture all over saying our daughter is gorgeous and prettiest in the entire world," You shake your head smiling, "Alright, alright, just take a nap with us okay," You whisper.
"Day I say no to that, let Max or Lando hit me with their cars," "Promise," you say
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whateverloomis · 6 months ago
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Dilf!Billy Loomis who kidnaps the sweet lil reader that works at the local Spirit Halloween?
I've always wondered how Billy would kidnap someone because he 100% would lmao. This is basically a drabble, it's all I've been able to put out lately. Anyways, here it is! Hope y'all enjoy babes 🫶🏼
Warnings: FEM READER, kidnapping (honestly it was a willing situation but the intention was there lmao,) spiked drink, alcohol consumption, flirting, fingering, stranger danger (lol,) Stu Macher feature, unedited
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Finally, your favorite season has arrived and you couldn't be happier. Fall. Halloween. Gloomy nights and a full moon. Ghost stories and pumpkin spice in the air.
It also means night shifts at Spirit Halloween. It isn't exactly the funnest job, but being surrounded by all kinds of decorations and costumes is worth doing it.
Tonight the store isn't as full as it usually is and you're almost grateful. The week has been chaotic so far and you definitely need a slow day, especially since you're at the register.
A few people came in and browsed the costumes but nobody bought anything, except for one. A man.
He's wearing a white tee with an oversized navy blue jacket along with light wash jeans. As you scan his body with your eyes you land on his black doc marten boots. It looks like they've been used quite a bit but they're still in great shape. You fixate your gaze a little too long on them, boots are one of your weaknesses and the man wearing them sure make them look extra hot. He must be in his 50s, but fuck does he look delicious. It's odd for you to find older men attractive but when it happen you're practically weak at the knees.
You continue looking at him as you suck on a lollipop you stole from a random aisle. With the view of the attractive man studying and touching the Halloween masks your brain got creative, and you definitely wouldn't mind having his cock in your mouth instead. Gosh, what a slut. Thinking that way about a complete stranger? Who does that?
It doesn't stop you from entertaining yourself with the thought as you feel the sugary bulb against your tongue.
"Do you have another one of these available?" the man asks and snaps you back to reality. He's holding a ghost face mask and you can't help but imagine him wearing the damn thing.
You nod and search for another mask from the pile of items people decide not to buy last minute, and luckily you find another one.
After handing it to him, you pull the lollipop out of your mouth, "Anything else I can help with?"
You noticed how he looked at your lips when you removed the candy from your mouth and smirked, "Mm, no, I have everything," he responded and you instantly got flustered.
"So, are you new in town? I haven't seen you around before," he asks, making small talk.
"Yes, I moved here a few months ago. It's pretty nice, I didn't think I'd like Woodsboro much..." you trailed off and Billy looked at you with a questioning look,
"Is it that boring here?" he continued and you laugh shily, "No, I just don't really have friends to hang out with..." you say and the man frowns.
"Well, I can show you around if you'd like. I know a nice deck with a mini bar down by the Woodsboro lake. It's really nice at night when there's a clear sky." he said and you mentally curse yourself for being tempted to go hang out with him. A stranger. But you couldn't help it, it's been a while since you hung out with someone and this guy is incredibly hot.
Your mind is racing but before you reason with yourself, you accept his invite... Billy Loomis' invite.
After a brief walk and a few drinks at the mini bar you were already letting loose and getting flirty with Billy.
"Wait, so he fell in the water with his suit on?" you asked, giggling at Billy's story of Stu falling into the hotel pool where their prom was hosted in '96. You were sitting rather close to the man, your thigh touching his while you faced each other.
"He really did, the idiot" he responded and took a swing of his beer. "We should all hang out sometime, I'm sure he'd like you." Billy continued and you blushed at his words. "Really? You think so?" you asked, shyness taking over. "Of course, anyone would like a cutie like you," he said, no shame in being straightforward.
You bit your lip and let out a breathy laugh. "I've never thought that way about myself..."
"Well, you should, I mean look at you" he continued and placed his hand on your thigh, running it up your skin slowly until it rested right under the hem of your short dress.
Silence fell upon you in an instant and the tension that was building went up a notch. Naturally, both of you leaned in and gave each other a few lingering kisses.
Billy pulled back and hissed, looking down at his hand on your thigh, squeezing slightly. "Bars about to close... You wanna go back to my place?" he asked and you nodded slowly, following him to his car.
Once you reached the vehicle Billy leaned against the hood and pulled you towards him by your hips. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck and continued kissing and it quickly got heated.
You might be a shy person, but when it comes to getting what you want? You don't hesitate one but, and at that moment you wanted him. This stranger that you met a few days ago.
It's reckless but you didn't care. The way that man was using his tongue to tease your lips and mouth was incredible and you could've stayed there all night but you needed more.
"Mm, let's go" you broke the kiss. Billy smirked and opened the door for you, looking at your ass when you walked past him to get in the car.
You found yourself straddling Billy's lap on the couch of his living room. The cabin he owns is relatively small but extremely cozy and charming in every way, just like him.
The sound of your soft moans mix with the crackling of the fire place. The make out session had been going on for a while and you were already grinding against his growing length. He feels big, and you can't wait to see what he's hiding in his pants.
Billy was careful with what he chose to do, he didn't want to scare you away after all, so he slowly slipped his hands under your dress and pulled it up and over your ass. You moved your hips quicker in response to his actions and he exhaled at the feeling of your pussy against his clothed cock.
He squeezed your ass and dug his fingers in your flesh before sneaking one of his hands between your legs. He rubbed your clit over your underwear, encouraging you to grind against them, and that you did. Slowly.
"Fuck... You soaked through these." Billy said while snapping the band of your underwear with his free hand, "I've barely touched you baby..." he continued and nipped your neck.
"Mm, please..." you said and grab his hand. "Need to feel..." you continued while you pulled your underwear to the side, moving his fingers inside your throbbing cunt.
"Fuck..." Billy moaned and finger fucked you from below imagining his cock buried inside you.
After a while his impatience took over and he stood up. You wrapped your legs around his torso along with your arms around his neck and into his room you went...
After Gods know how much time of fucking and playing with each other Billy offered you a drink, which you gladly accepted. After a few sips you went to the bathroom to clean up, and while you were away he took the opportunity to spike your drink. Of course he had alternate motives, and you were an easy target. Too easy.
Once you came back and took a few more sips of that drink you never thought you'd end up passing out... much less end up with your hands tied behind your back on a chair in the middle of a living room. A room that was comforting a few hours prior, but there you were. Confused out of your mind.
"Look who's up" you heard Billy whisper. His hand softly brushed against your cheek.
"Where... What?" you said while moving your arms around, feeling the restraints.
"Shh sh sh, we're at my place, remember?" Billy said softly. Why was he being so gentle in a situation like this? You had no clue, and it made the situation all the more confusing and frightening.
"What's goin- What the fuck?!" You lost it.
"Hm... Well, you see... It's a very interesting story, really. I used to study with your aunty Prescott."
No way.
"And I tried to kill her, but the bitch got away from me, so I thought... Hm, how can I get her attention again?"
"Billy... Don't" You started.
"Why not kidnap her sweet nephew. The one she loves like a daughter..."
"Billy..."
"Why not use these? Terrorize the town again... Terrorize Sidney again." He continued, holding the ghostface masks up. The ones you sold him a few days ago.
But why two?
"Am I late?" You heard another voice behind you. Turning around was useless so you closed your eyes hoping it was all a dream.
"Nah, I'm just getting started" Billy replied and the other man came to view. He handed Billy a knife and took his mask afterwards.
"YN, meet Stu." Billy said and Stu waved as if this were a normal everyday interaction.
"You. You're the ghostface killers..." you put it together quickly, all the memories of Sid warning you about moving to that damn town. How she wouldn't trust the silence.
She was right.
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archangeldyke-all · 23 days ago
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Hii you've asked for requests so what about reader kissing Sevika's first grey hairs? I just think it's cute idk
WAHHH i'm crying i love this soooooo much
men and minors dni
sevika's been in the bathroom for like thirty minutes now.
your wife's a very practical woman, not one to dilly dally. the longest shower she'll ever take is when you're joining her and the pair of you get distracted. besides that, she's swift and efficient, in and out of the bathroom in fifteen minutes or less.
so, you're starting to get a little worried.
and you've really got to pee.
"sev?" you ask as you knock on the door to the bathroom. the shower's not on, maybe she's drying off now.
there's some scrambling inside the bathroom, then sevika cracks the door open, blocking the entrance with her body. "what?" she asks.
you blink at her, raising an eyebrow. "you okay in there?" you ask.
sevika gulps. "yeah, why?"
"well... i've been holdin' my pee for half an hour now waiting on you..."
sevika rolls her eyes and slumps a bit. the door opens a little wider, and your wife lets out a gusty sigh. "i-i'm just... noticing something." she says. you frown.
"fuck, do we have mold? is something leaking?"
sevika chuckles and opens the door, letting you enter. "no, no, nothing about the bathroom."
you furrow you brow. "so, what?"
sevika sighs and tugs you toward the sink, her gaze fixed on the mirror hanging above it. "look." she says. you study your wife's reflection.
"what am i looking for?"
sevika grunts, rolls her eyes, then runs her fingers through her hair, showing off the short layers. "that." she huffs.
"what, your undershave's growing out?" you ask.
sevika turns to face you. "no! i've got greys!" she whines.
you snort. "oh, yeah." you say. sevika glares at you.
"you've noticed!?" she cries. you laugh.
"sevika, i've been kissing every new grey i see!" you say.
it's true. about four months ago you noticed the first while sevika laid in your arms. it made your heart throb with a mix of emotions, the most prominent being excitement to grow old alongside her. so, you kissed her hair.
and ever since then, when you've spotted an additional grey, you've pulled sevika in and pressed a kiss against her head.
"wh-- that-- no you haven't!"
"yes i have! why do you think i've been giving you so many head-kisses lately?" you ask.
sevika blinks. "o-oh. i thought you were worried about that concussion i got at work."
you laugh. "nah, you've banged your head plenty. i know you got an iron skull." you tease.
but instead of glaring at you like you expect your wife to, she swoops you up into a big, tight hug, spinning you in the bathroom. you giggle in surprise and cling onto her, letting her pepper kisses all over your face.
"you shoulda told me. i gotta start dyeing these things." she says, her voice all sappy. you pout.
"then i won't get to kiss 'em. or fantasize about us growing old and cranky together every time i see one."
sevika giggles. "you can do that anyways."
"no. i forbid it."
"you forbid it?!" sevika laughs.
"yeah! i'm fuckin' in love with your little greys, sev! you're just gonna cover 'em up?!"
"it doesn't make me look old?" she asks, her voice vulnerable. you lean in and give her a peck, giggling at the way her face relaxes from the kiss.
"it makes you look sexy." you say honestly.
sevika raises a skeptical eyebrow at you. "sexy?"
"really fuckin' sexy. the salt and pepper look is hot. and you make it even hotter. plus, i'll make you sleep on the couch if you dye 'em."
sevika chuckles. "alright. i guess you've decided for me, huh?" she asks. you smile, pull her head down, and kiss her hair.
"yes i have. now get the fuck outta here so i can piss in peace." you say.
sevika snorts, and you smack her ass on her way out.
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taglist!!
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blue-lights-to-dreams · 7 months ago
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Golden Light // H.S.
synopsis: you go on a blind date with Harry at your best friend's insistence and enjoy it much more than you expected.
wc: 3.9k
a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! i haven't written fic in a hot minute, so let me know what you think! this will likely have a part 2 where the exciting stuff happens, but writing even this much took me forever so i wanted to share before the Christmas mentions became irrelevant, lol!
The streets of New York City are beautiful this time of year. Christmas lights twinkle in nearly every retail storefront, some even including a dusting of ripped-up cotton balls and other snow-like materials. Just ignore the grey sludge coating the streets.
You were never one for holiday cheer, and today was no exception. Despite thinking the same of every single day, you’ve had what you would consider the longest day of your life. Your first meeting ran late by just a few minutes, but even this was enough to push your calendar so far off that you needed to reschedule your final call with the client you’d been waiting almost a month to meet with.
There was nothing more in this world you wanted to do than curl up in bed with a bottle of wine and a silk eye mask. But, here you were, trudging down the streets of New York City in your slightly uncomfortable heels, trying to dodge puddles, slush, and other mysterious substances on the sidewalk, on your way to a blind date. Emma had set you up with a friend of her boyfriend’s, and she’d made you promise you’d give him a chance.
Your last relationship had ended with a bang after you went to his apartment to surprise him after getting out of work early one afternoon, only to find him in bed with a blonde girl you never did learn the name of. 
You could easily find a man to wake up to the next morning, but after years of running your own business, it wasn’t as simple as walking into a bar to meet Mr. Right. You’d dated enough men with little ambition; you needed someone who had drive– had success.
All you knew about your date for the night was his name was Harry, he was a record executive, and, according to Emma, he was hot.
The pit in your stomach only grew as you approached Bella Napoli. It didn’t help you’d spent the last six blocks trying to lift your dress and nearly-floor-length coat high enough to keep it out of the puddles.
The little blue location dot on your maps app glided closer to the restaurant with each step you took, nearly there - mist ghosted over your nose with each exhale, doing nothing to keep it warm in the frigid weather of the city, and you couldn’t wait to get inside.
Finally, you spotted the marquee sign affixed to the small brick building half a block up, signaling the end of your journey. The glass-front double doors opened easily under your hasty pull, eager to feel the heat of the brick building’s furnace.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the hostess greeted from behind her podium. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with long blonde hair and prominent cheekbones.
“Good evening, I have a reservation under (Y/L/N),” you brushed stray snowflakes off of your wool coat. Emma had ensured she would let Harry know the reservation would be under your name, and you hoped she hadn’t forgotten.
“Ah, yes, table for two? Right this way.” The young woman stepped from behind the podium and began heading toward the main dining area. You followed her as she snaked around the tables full of affluently dressed couples and businessmen in suits, reaching a small archway leading into a more dimly-lit section of the restaurant. 
She led you to a booth in the corner with velvet seats and matching curtains, held open by small hooks on either side - out of sight from most of the other patrons in the section, who didn’t seem to be paying any mind to you anyway. A small candle sat between two menus, adjacent to a traditional silverware layout and an empty highball glass on either side of the booth.
You slid onto the bench facing the room’s entrance as the hostess filled each glass with ice water. She nodded as you thanked her and informed her a man by the name of Harry should be arriving soon to join you. Just in case Emma had forgotten.
The menu was short but obviously well-curated. The wine list was almost twice the length of the food menu - just how you liked it. You skimmed the offerings, deciding on a merlot of the second-highest price point. Your anxiety still made itself known in the way your stomach was twisting. You checked the time. It was 5:58 pm - still two minutes early. You hoped the wine would drown the butterflies (or maybe moths) in your stomach.
Your eyes returned to the restaurant’s food offerings but were again drawn upwards as another person sauntered into the secluded section of the restaurant. His pale grey, half-unbuttoned silk shirt settled just under the gold cross necklace grazing the indent between his pecs. A blazer of a much darker grey draped his shoulders, matching the straight-legged trousers just long enough to only allow the front of his patent-leather black loafers to peek out from under them. 
The air suddenly felt heavy, like you couldn’t get a breath in. Who is the lucky lady he’s here with tonight? Your eyes darted around the section, trying to find his date, but coming up empty. 
Shit, is this Harry?
Your fears are confirmed as you realize the hostess had entered the room a bit ahead of him and was leading him to your booth. The poor girl looked entirely flustered.
“Here you are, sir. Your waitress will be over shortly to grab your drink orders,” she squeaked, turning on her heels and scurrying away as quickly as possible.
You smiled at him as you shuffled out of the booth and rose to your feet, trying to seem much more confident than you were. You reached about the height of his shoulder in your heels.
“You must be (Y/N),” he spoke with a slight smile, glancing at your attire before returning his eyes to meet yours.
“That would be me. And you must be Harry.” You smiled back at him, subconsciously smoothing out the part of the dress resting on your hips.
Harry took a step toward you with arms extended, pulling you into an easy hug, His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and yours around his waist. He smelled like an intoxicating mix of vanilla, patchouli, and musk. Expensive. Even just brushing your fingers across his suit jacket as he pulled away, the feel of the fibers suggested it had also not been cheap.
“You look stunning. I love the color of your dress,” he complimented, pulling back slightly with his hand hovering over your waist. “It looks great on you.”
“Thank you, it was actually a gift from my mother.” Compliment-taking was not your forte.
“Well, she has great taste. Shall we?” He motioned toward the set table, waiting for you to take your seat before sliding into the bench on the opposite side. “Have you been here before?”
“I haven’t, but I’ve heard great things. Have you?” His ring-clad fingers picked up the beverage menu in front of him as you spoke.
“I have, it’s one of my favorites.” That must have been why he suggested it.
“Is the Merlot any good? That’s what I was thinking of ordering, but I’m open to suggestions.” You played with the seam of your dress under the table absentmindedly.
“Now that, I haven’t had. I’m more of a white wine guy myself. I’m a fan of the Riesling.”
“Really? My first guess would have been whiskey, honestly.” There exists a pattern in these kinds of men - they always drank some very expensive whiskey they needed to tell you all about, as if it didn’t taste like smoke-flavored lighter fluid.
“I tend to prefer a sweeter taste,” his eyebrows twitched as he raised the glass of water to his lips. You nodded before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, taking time to browse the food menu.
It wasn’t very extensive, with a few choices to pick from each protein category. You settled on a grilled chicken tagliatelle with a cream sauce, hoping it would pair well with the wine.
“Hi, my name is Danielle and I’ll be taking care of you this evening,” a voice burst your bubble of concentration, “have we decided on what we’d like to drink?”
You recited your wine order first, with Harry following shortly after. The waitress jotted down your selections in her notepad before exiting the room with a promise to be back to take your food orders shortly.
“So, Emma said you work in marketing?” he spoke slowly. His accent was thick, only further drawing you into the conversation.
“PR, actually,” you replied, “I have my own firm, with a few employees. I love it.”
“That’s amazing,” he sounded sincere. “How long have you been in PR?”
“Almost a decade, but I’ve had the firm for a little over 3 years. At first, it was just myself operating out of my apartment, but we’ve been able to build up some clientele and move to an actual office space. Emma said you work for Atlas Sound, right?” you shifted the conversation away from yourself, curious about what exactly came with being a record executive.
“That’s right. I’m mostly in charge of production but I help out with some of the publishing aspects as well.”
“Ah, so no talent scouting? I was hoping this could be my big break…” you mused, narrowing your eyes at him. Harry chuckled, flashing the smile you’d found yourself dead set on seeing more of. 
“No, no, unfortunately, that’s not me, but I may know some people who could help. Let me guess, rap?”
You almost choked on the water you’d just taken a sip of, but managed to swallow it before the laugh burst from your throat. It caught you off guard - Harry honestly didn’t look like he would even know what rap is. A silly notion, given his career, but true anyway.
“You have a beautiful laugh,” Harry stated sincerely, and your heart just about stopped. 
Before you got the chance to respond, a full wine glass was placed in front of each of you. You hadn’t even noticed the waitress had come back. “Here are those drinks. Did we decide on what we’d like to eat? I can make some suggestions if you’re not sure what to get…”
It appeared as if she’d forgotten you were even in the room with the way she was staring directly at Harry. You couldn’t blame the girl - you’d been staring too - but she could definitely tell the two of you were on a date, so she could have at least been a little more subtle.
Harry smiled politely (and briefly) at her before turning his attention back to you to confirm you were ready to order. You both relayed your choices to the waitress, and you appreciated that Harry did not seem like he was interested in entertaining her advances.
“Anyways, where were we…” he smiled again, and your heart lurched.
Conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, aided by the wine in your glasses. You found yourself getting less and less nervous about him not being the right fit, but more and more nervous you were somehow making a fool of yourself. 
The story of how one of your interns accidentally jammed the copier so badly you had to buy a completely new unit made Harry laugh loudly. It was one of many stories you had from your job that were definitely funnier in retrospect than they were as they happened. You were aware you’d talked a lot so far, but you couldn’t help it. The way Harry spoke was attractive, but the way he listened was even better. He seemed genuinely interested in the stories you told, maintaining eye contact, nodding in the right spots, and asking thoughtful follow-up questions. It had been a while since you’d had a date genuinely listen to you, and it was refreshing. 
He asked more about your job, and you found yourself telling him how as much as you like being “in charge” and able to have control over your firm, sometimes it was incredibly stressful, especially in emergencies. He could see the stress that followed you home every day seep back into your expression, despite you trying your best not to let it show.
His ring-clad hand slid across the table, fingers gently entwining with yours and giving them a quick squeeze.
“You know, I think you’re brave for taking that risk. You should be proud of what you’ve built.” The eye contact he made with you as he spoke was intense, with sincerity behind his words. His hand was warm, contrasting the cool feeling of the metal rings, and you subconsciously squeezed it back in an attempt to keep it where it was. Luckily, your hands stayed intertwined for another couple of minutes as you expressed your appreciation for his kindness and shifted the conversation back to his job until your food was in front of you.
The meals were delicious, just as Harry had promised. He’d ordered a mushroom risotto that looked delicious, and your pasta tasted perfect with the wine you’d chosen. Good job, self.
Soon, you found your plate nearly empty and your body warm from the alcohol. Your thoughts felt slightly fuzzy, and you caught yourself staring a little too long at the rings on Harry’s right hand, as well as the fingers adorning them. The muscles flexed as he moved his hands while speaking, and you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away. You knew how his hand felt in yours, but how would it feel touching your cheek, against your back, gripping your - 
“Did you save room for dessert? The tiramisu is incredible.” Harry’s voice broke your train of thought, and you quickly averted your eyes back to his. What seemed like a slight smirk played on his face, but you couldn’t tell if it was because he’d noticed the staring, or if the alcohol was just affecting him as well. You prayed for the latter.
“That sounds great, but I can probably only take a few bites. Would you want to share a piece?” you suggested, much too full for an entire dessert to yourself.
“I’d love to.” Harry absentmindedly tapped his fingers against the table in a rhythm you couldn’t place, not helping your attempts not to stare. “So, tell me more about that yoga class?”
The conversation flowed again, with Harry ordering dessert when the waitress stopped by. Of course, you were just as interested in his words as he was in yours, hanging on his every accented sentence. He was a captivating storyteller and his facial expressions were no different - you loved how his eyes lit up at the good parts and narrowed at the bad in the story. The slight scruff on his face complimented the way his mouth moved as it formed words, drawing you closer. How would they feel against your own lips, you wondered? 
You could hear the words he was saying, but you weren’t fully listening as he continued telling you about the time he got a little too drunk at a friend’s birthday party and ended up volunteering to give a speech he had in no way prepared for. It was a great story, very funny, but your mind was otherwise preoccupied. Wine always made you… flirty.
Soon, the tiramisu was in front of you. This, too, looked delicious - Harry was right again.
“Would you like the first bite?” He offered, picking up one of the small forks laid out on the plate and scooping a bite of the dessert onto it.
“Well, ladies first I suppose,” you joked. You parted your mouth slightly as you leaned forward, waiting for him to place the fork on your tongue. What you weren’t expecting was for his other hand to reach out and lightly grasp your jaw, thumb on your chin to hold your mouth farther open. A choked gasp escaped your lips at the same time the sweet cake hit your tongue, but you could barely taste it, too distracted by the skin contact. Again, his eyes didn’t leave yours as he allowed your mouth to close and pulled his hand away from your face.
“Well? How is it?” he asked, with a definite smirk this time. 
You tried to compose yourself before answering, swallowing the dessert and the lump that had formed in your throat. “It’s good… really good.” Your voice came out breathier than you intended, and you blinked heavily a couple of times, trying to kickstart the part of your brain that could think of anything except what you’d like to do with the gorgeous man sitting in front of you.
Harry took his own bite next, letting his eyes flutter shut as his mouth closed around the fork. His long eyelashes rested atop his strong cheekbones, the same ones you almost had to physically stop yourself from reaching over to brush your fingertips over. His lips were a stunning, dark shade of red, still slightly wet from the wine he’d been enjoying.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the bite, slightly brushing against the collar of his shirt. Seafoam green eyes made contact with yours as he opened them again, and a small smile graced his face as he realized you’d been watching him intently.
“You’re right, it is really good.” Your heart raced under the fervency of his gaze. He was staring into you like he wanted to read the thoughts echoing in your brain. “Would you like another bite?”
“Sure, but I can feed myself this one if you like,” you attempted to lighten the intense mood that had befallen your booth so you might actually be able to catch your breath,
“That won’t be necessary, I was quite enjoying myself,” Harry mused, refusing to break eye contact until you did. He scooped another bite onto the fork, reaching over to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear before resuming his grip on your jaw and returning the fork to your lips. He felt your jaw flex as you chewed and swallowed the bite, but didn’t take his hand off of your face. Instead, he brought his thumb back to your lips and brushed below them gently, careful not to smudge your lipstick. 
He brought his thumb back to his mouth and slowly closed his lips around the pad of it, a half-smile tugging at his lips at your bewildered expression. “Sorry, you had a little something there. I figured I’d get it for you.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath instead of attempting to utter a response.
He took another bite himself before offering you another, which you obliged with little hesitation.
“You know, Harry, you need to be careful feeding me like this or I’ll get used to it.” Another feeble attempt to ease the tension and stop acting like a flustered teenager.
“I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmured, voice sincere and slow, laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine, “if it means I keep getting to see your cheeks flush.”
He’d noticed how your body was responding to him, whether or not you tried to hide it. Your face burned again, sinking further into the booth behind you in slight embarrassment.
“Well, it doesn’t help that I’m on a date with an attractive man who’s feeding me tiramisu. I think that’s every woman’s dream.”
“So it’s working?” His face glowed in the candlelight, a smirk on his face but a subtle vulnerability behind his eyes.
You knew what he was implying, but wanted to regain some of the power you’d lost by being so flustered. “Maybe.”
“That’s not good enough for me. I need a yes.” He needed confirmation that you were on the same page.
“And what exactly am I saying yes to?” A sip of wine ran down your throat as you awaited his response.
“To letting me walk you home after this,” Harry stated bluntly, scanning your face for your reaction. You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, but you held your composure, leaning back casually against the booth behind you as you pretended to mull it over. You already knew what you wanted.
“Alright, Harry,” you smirked, bringing the wine glass to your lips once more, “let’s see where the night takes us.”
- - - - - - - - - - 
“God, it’s freezing out here,” you groaned, dodging patches of ice. You were nearly home, your apartment building visible up the street.
Harry had grabbed your hand under the guise of keeping it warm a few minutes ago, something you were grateful for now as you gripped it tightly, trying to navigate the snow-covered ground in heels with little traction. He’d offered to call an Uber, but you wanted some more time with him without a driver listening in on your conversation.
As you approached the building, your imagination ran with thoughts of getting him upstairs, into your apartment, into your living room… 
Before you could get too far, you were at the front door. Your free hand patted over the pockets of your jacket to ensure that you had your keys and found them in your left pocket.
“I had a great time with you tonight, Y/N,” Harry turned to face you, not letting go of your hand. “I’d love to do this again, sometime, if you’d be interested.”
A slight flush now graced his face, glancing at the ground as he awaited your response.
“I had a lovely time. I’d love to see you again,” you confirmed quickly, not letting him worry for too long.
He was beaming now, allowing you to admire his prominent dimples. Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help but smile right back at the sight.
“There’s that beautiful smile again,” he quipped. His free hand reached for your jaw, cradling it again as you both continued to grin at each other for a few moments. A silence fell upon you again, and Harry’s eyes searched yours for a second before flickering to your lips, which had slowly returned to a resting state. As he moved his gaze back up, your eyes gleamed with the reflections of Christmas lights and were swimming with the need for more contact with him. He inhaled slowly, nervously, before exhaling sharply. “Can I kiss you?”
You nodded quickly, gripping his collar to pull him closer before his mouth met yours. Electricity sparked between the two of you, his luscious lips colliding with yours over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough of you. The kiss started slow, but quickly became deeper, more desperate, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you close to him. Your hands searched for solace, moving from his collar to his cheeks before lightly running through the hair at the back of his neck.
He tore his lips away from yours but didn’t stray far, pressing his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. You could see both of your small pants in the air as they fogged due to the cold. A small smile played on each of your lips, and you just knew your lipstick was half-gone because you could definitely see some of it on Harry.
“You know,” you pulled away, straightening your stance confidently, “I have a bottle of wine upstairs if you’d like to help me drink it.”
Harry grinned. “I would love to.”
part 2!
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skzdust · 4 months ago
Text
Worth It
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Smut. MINORS DNI.
I haven't posted a fic in a bit but the Ateez concert announcement has me FERAL and I've been thinking about Yunho,,, those hands,,, augh
I hope to be posting more smut soon, I have a lot in the works!
This is in my band abo verse, which also includes the fics Rock Will Never Die and Whatever Will We Do! I'll make a masterpost soon teehee!
Summary: Y/n chats with a guy at a bar... and Yunho is a possessive man.
Pairing: Yunho x reader
Includes: omegaverse/abo, "slut" in a sexy way, fingering, vaginal sex, they really do a number on the hotel sheets lol
Word count: 1.3k
Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,
@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst
@jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets
Network:@mirohs-aurora-society
Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!
Masterlist
-----
“Hey, pretty.” A voice said from behind you.
You turned around to see a moderately attractive man with a truly horrible hairstyle. He was smiling at you with a confidence that was probably unearned.
You decided to entertain it anyway, looking him up and down. “You’re not bad yourself.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Not bad? I aim for better than that, but I’ll take it. D’you want a drink?”
Well, at least you could get a free drink out of this guy. “Yeah.”
You followed him over to the bar, glancing over your shoulder to see where the band was. You could see Seonghwa and Hongjoong in a corner booth, all over each other, but no one else.
“So what do you do?” His smile was toothy as he handed you your drink.
“I’m a manager for a band.”
He laughed. “They any good?”
You frowned. “The best.”
“I’m sure with you at the lead they’re decent.”
“Is that a compliment or an insult?”
“A compliment, obviously.” He shook his head.
You weren’t entirely sure how to react to that. “What do you do?”
“Aside from pick up hot chicks?” You flinched, icked at the phrase, but he kept going. “I’m in investments. My portfolio is pretty extensive.” He leaned in. “And I’m an alpha.”
A finance bro alpha who picked up hotchicks. You had to get out of here now.
“Nice.” You nodded, setting your drink on the bar. “I think I’m gonna go find my friends.”
“Hold up, can I come with you?”
“Ah, no.” You smiled. “Sorry, I’m here with my band, and I’ve gotta make sure they’re doing okay.”
“They can take care of themselves for a few minutes, I’m sure.”
“Y/n?” You turned around at the familiar voice.
“Yunho.” You sighed, relieved.
 Yunho’s arm wrapped around your waist. “Who’s this?”
“Just some guy.” You said, waving your hand. “Unimportant.”
“I’m— I’m important!” The guy sputtered.
“Does unimportant want to have sex with you?” Yunho stared at him.
“I… I mean, you are hot.” He said, looking at you with hope in his eyes.
Yunho laughed, the sound mocking. “He wants to fuck you, y/n.” He leaned in by your ear. “Why don’t you tell him who gets to fuck you?”
You felt a thrill in your stomach, shooting between your legs. You looked at him. “Only my pack gets to fuck me.”
The man raised his hands in mock surrender. “Well sue a guy for trying! How was I supposed to know you had a pack?” He pointed at you, accusing. “And you let me talk!”
“I wanted a drink.” You rolled your eyes. “I was literally trying to walk away, because you creep me out.”
Yunho grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”
“Yeah.”
Thankfully, the guy didn’t try anything or follow you as Yunho all but dragged you through the people in the bar to the door.
“Where are we going?”
“Hotel.” He growled. “Someplace with a bed.”
You got into the taxi in silence, and Yunho’s hand traced patterns on your inner thigh in the backseat. You closed your eyes, trying to keep your composure. You could feel yourself growing slick already.
You got out of the taxi, and Yunho held your hand in a vise grip as you got on the elevator. He tapped his keycard and opened the door. The second it clicked shut behind you, you were on your back on the bed, Yunho on top of you.
“Little slut.” He breathed in your ear. “Flirting with fucking strangers at the bar.”
“I really did just want the drink!” You protested.
“Somehow I doubt that.” Yunho pushed his hand under your waistband, and you moaned at his touch. “I could smell you in the taxi. You need me.”
“Need you, Yunho.” You sighed.
“You don’t need unimportant. He can’t fuck you like I can.”
“No, he can’t.”
“Actually, he can’t fuck you at all.” Yunho laughed. “He may have been an alpha, but he’s not your alpha. I’m your alpha, and you’re my omega.” He leaned in again. “Mine, got it?”
“Yours.” You whimpered as his hand found your clit. “Yours, Yunho.”
He drew small circles on it, his finger working faster and faster. You could feel yourself approaching climax just from the stimulation.
“I’m gonna come.”
“Thank you for telling me, sunshine.” He pulled his hand off, holding it out to you. You obediently licked yourself off his fingers. “Good girl. You better fucking be, after how you acted tonight.”
“I’m sorry.” You whined. “I’m sorry for being such a slut.”
“That’s a start.” He pulled your skirt and underwear down, throwing them somewhere on the floor. “You’d better show me, too.”
“Fuck me! Please, Yunho.”
“Beg better.” He sounded bored.
“Please.” You said. “Please, Yunho, I need you, I’m sorry I was talking to that guy, I did just want the drink, but I’m yours, I’m yours, I need you, I need you to fuck me.”
He laughed. “Now that’s a good girl. Begging so pretty.”
“Please.” You whispered, wriggling, your pussy aching at the thought of him fucking you.
“Alright, alright, fine, since you asked so nicely.”
You almost sobbed as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Yunho, I need your cock!”
“I know.” He crooned. “I know, sunshine, and you’ll get it, I just want to watch you get a little bit more desperate for me.”
“Yunho, fuck, please.” You groaned, your hips thrusting up into his hand as he fucked you with his fingers. “I’m so— I want you so bad, I need you.”
He didn’t say anything, continuing to move his fingers inside you until you. Your slick leaked all over the sheets, not as much as if you were in heat, but more than usual.
He seemed to read your mind, laughing. “We’re gonna need new sheets.”
“Please!” You whined. “Please fuck me.”
Yunho pulled his fingers out, shoving them in your mouth. You sucked on them.
“Good girl.” He unzipped his fly, taking his pants off.
Your mouth started to water looking at his cock through his underwear. He took that off, too, and you made a small, involuntary noise seeing his huge cock.
“Want it?” He teased.
“Yeah.”
“Alright, sunshine, you can have it.” He positioned himself over you, aligning himself with your dripping hole.
He pushed inside in one swift motion, and you moaned, your slick loud as it was forced out of you. “Yunho!”
“What, sunshine?” He said lightly. “What is it?”
“Move, please, please fuck me.” Your hips pushed up.
“Impatient slut.” He murmured, but he began to fuck you. “I suppose you’ve done a lot of begging today already.”
“Thank you, thank you.” You moaned. “Thank you, Yunho, it feels so good.”
“I know, baby.” He said. “I know. I know you love it.”
“I do, I love it.”
You were practically incoherent as he fucked you, mindlessly babbling about how good it was and how much you loved it and needed it. His cock always made you see stars. He was so big and so rough with it, and you loved it.
“Yunho, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”
“Come for me, sunshine.”
You shook as you came, one of the best orgasms of your life surging through you. “Yunho!”
“That’s right, say my name, baby, it’s me who’s making you feel this good. It’s me. You’re mine.” He murmured.
You just lay there, breathing hard, as he continued to fuck you, chasing his own climax. “Wanna finish inside you.”
“Yes, please.” You moaned, the thought exciting even in your tired state.
“Fuck— fuck!” He pushed himself as far in as he could get, and you gasped as he filled you up.
He pulled out, and a mess of slick and cum pooled out onto the bed.
Yunho looked at it. “We’re definitely going to need new sheets.”
“Worth it.”
“Worth it.” He agreed.
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