#shopping with ellie

[savannahsdeath]

This thought popped in my head and I need it!!!!

(only if you want to!)

Imagine reader and Ellie went out to the mall with there friends and the entireeee day Ellie was just thinking about bending reader over and doing her then and there because she was just looking so good with her little ponytail and skirt and the way she would pick up the cutest little clothes and ask Ellie if she thinks they would look good on her. Then when they get home Ellie just goes absolutely feral and fucks her with no remorse. :(((

I'm literally going feral over this thought

im not a shopping person but this? omg.

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! obv smut, strap (r!receiving)

writers note: i loved the idea sm i literally stopped writing my enemies to lovers fic just to write this one🫣sorry it took me so long to post it, i struggled with choosing what to post first !!

You were going out shopping with your girlfriend and some friends. Ellie isn't really an outgoing person, but when it's about you and shopping, she can't wait to see you in all the cute clothes she knows she will buy you. Of course she'll never admit it but you knew she enjoys it as much as you do.

As you make your way into the store, you can see her eyes light up at the sight of all the different styles of clothes. She takes the lead and starts pulling at all sorts of clothing to bring over for you to try on, eager to see you wearing all her favorite things.

The changing rooms had a lot of space inside, so she entered one with you, sitting down on the little bench. While you were taking your previous clothes off, she intensely stared at her phone. She couldn't stand seeing your bare skin and it would be hard for her to control herself otherwise, but you were clueless.

When you changed into a cute, feminine skirt and top, she finally turned her eyes in your direction. Her gaze was judging but not in a bad way - she looked you up and down before smirking.

"Spin." Ellie simply ordered and you obviously did so. You had no idea she told you to do that because of the way your pink underwear shows when the skirt rolls up in the air at your movement. She cleared her throat and nodded, trying to hide her thoughts. "Yeah, looks good."

You frowned at her lack of enthusiasm, not realizing she's actually boiling inside. You were so oblivious it was actually funny, even your friends knew damn well what was going on.

You tried the rest of the clothes Ellie picked for you, not getting the reaction you'd like to each time, but you couldn't blame her.

Oh, little did you know how much she just wants to bend you over and fuck with her strap, she obviously had on, just in case she won't be able to control herself.

After a few other shops and a whole bag of clothes, you came into one with small changing rooms and made Ellie wait outside. She was standing in front of the curtains, pretending to be unbothered, but the way she impatiently kept asking you 'ready?' every-fucking-second said otherwise.

"Wait, wait, the zipper won't close!" You said, trying to lock a pretty, formal, red dress you knew you'll wear like one time - for Christmas or something.

She rolled her eyes and came in, standing so close behind you, you could feel the bulge in her jeans. She zipped it without struggle, placing her head on your shoulder as she looked at the mirror in front of you both. Her hands were sliding up and down your sides as she kissed your neck.

"You look fucking amazing." She whispered and smiled, seeming almost proud of your appearance.

"Is it worth buying, though?" You asked, turning in all directions to see it from every angle. "It will just collect dust in the closet for the whole year until I decide it's time to..."

She laughed, cutting you off. "Jesus, hush. I can afford it... Oh, and trust me, I'll make you wear it."

You finally fully turned around, cupping Ellie's face in your hands and kissing her for only a few seconds. "You spend too much money on me."

"Are you complaining?" She chuckled with a smug look on her face as you stayed silent. "That's what I thought."

After running around the shops for the whole day, you all met in a restaurant. Ellie was sitting in her usual men-spread position and you placed yourself between her legs, not really caring it may be weird. Her hands rested awfully near the hem of your skirt, wrapped around your waist. Sometimes when you were grinding too much, she'd just tug on it to warn you, so no one would notice your behaviour.

Sometimes, when your little movements didn't stop, she'd whisper something in your ear in almost threatening way, even though you wasn't really teasing her intentionally.

On your way home, she was walking faster than usually. You couldn't even call it walking together, she was just pushing you forward.

You tried to slow down or build a conversation but miserably failed every time.

As soon as she brought you back to your shared apartament, she closed the door and immediately started kissing your neck, slowly pushing you towards the bed.

You quickly understood why she acted so weird before. "Oh, Ellie, so you just wanted that the whole day?" You chuckled as she nuzzled into your skin. "And you kept silent instead of telling me?"

She dropped the bag of clothes as soon as you entered the bedroom, your teasing words clearly pissing her off even more than having to watch you in all those cute little skirts back in the shop.

"What the fuck was the whole dinner scene for?" She asked, frustrated, hurriedly undressing you. "Can't sit still? Seriously?"

You laughed, even though you knew what waits for you isn't so funny.

She wasn't teasing your cunt for too long before filling it with her cock, waiting for the right moment to catch you off-guard. It worked as well as she expected to, you moaned and your eyes quickly turned glossy as your thighs clenched.

She kept going for so long, you didn't bother to hold back your tears anymore. Your hips were sore from the way she held them, knowing she won't be able to hit the right spot if you'll move. Your hair started to stick together from the sweat and tears mixed together, making the pillow uncomfortably wet. Your god-knows-which orgasm approached but you weren't able to say anything about it to Ellie as you lost the ability to speak like a thousand thrusts ago. You couldn't decide whether it's a good or bad feeling. Yes, you loved the feeling of her deep inside you to the point you can actually see her in your stomach. But no, you didn't feel strong enough to keep going. Ellie seemed to notice that.

"If you want to stop, just tell me." She said in the most taunting tone she could.

She knew you're not able to 'just tell her'. She noticed the only thing coming from your mouth are moans, occasionally maybe her name, but really rarely.

She reached to wipe your tears away. "Now, that's just adorable. And a little pathetic. Should I slow down, huh? Should I?"

You nodded, realizing your vision isn't actually black, you were just desperately squeezing your eyes shut like it'd make you feel any better. You looked up at her with your teary eyes, still imploringly moving your head up and down.

"What does that even mean? Just speak up!" She laughed.

Your eyes closed again, as your release came. Your mind went blank, just like everything else - your vision, feeling and other senses.

Did you pass out?

It all came back after a few seconds, when Ellie finally stopped and leaned in to kiss you, what woke you up like Sleeping Beauty.

"Oh, sorry babe. Got carried away. I bet you can't really blame me, though." She winked as she started going down on you again.

"Els- what are you...?" You managed to say, stopping to take a breath after each word.

"Gotta clean you up." She smirked and you could already feel her tongue on your clit.

It felt so sensitive, so new, you cried out and your thighs tensed, but didn't close as Ellie held onto them. She was so strong compared to your weakness now, they didn't move a millimeter.

"I'll be fast, this time." She reassured you, as your body squirmed, hoping to get away.

But oh, how much you actually wanted to stay like that. The sensitiveness made you feel the texture of her tongue so precisely, you hoped to still remember it tomorrow...

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 218

“Moom, there’s yellow-eyed creeps fighting ninjas outside the window again!” 

Danny sighed, taking a deep breath- in for ten, out for eight- as he set the pot he was cleaning back in the sink. Dan- currently six- came running in from the living room of the apartment, where he was watching TV. Or he should have been if not for the bullshit outside. 

He sighed again, picking up baby Ellie- currently closer to two- out of her highchair (even if she could just float out) and let his oldest drag him to the window. Sure enough, another fight was happening, with no vigilante in sight stopping it. Look, he knew most people didn’t live here, but it was still rude. 

“Jordan, remember how I told you how violence isn’t always the answer?” Danny asked sweetly, Dan’s expression shifting to a wicked grin as he opened the window. “Feel free to practice tossing some fireballs while I clean up your sister, yeah?” 

Ah, the sweet sound of surprised cursing and startled ecto-signatures. Maybe they’d be polite enough to take their spar elsewhere. 

[luxaofhesperides]

For ghostlights: baby Ellie + tired Danny + Duke the baby whisperer?

He has no idea how his parents did it. 

Babies are exhausting. Toddlers more so. Any infants in the strange stage in-between? Doubly so. 

Ellie is wonderful and sweet and cute and such a terror that Danny genuinely has no idea how his parents managed to raise not one, but two kids. For all their eccentricities and absent-mindedness, he and Jazz turned out pretty well. Ignoring the whole halfa thing because that’s more his fault than theirs even if Jazz says they shouldn’t have created the dangerous environment in the first place.

That environment is exactly why Danny refuses to let Ellie go to his house in Amity Park. His parents say they’ve disabled all the weapons and ecto-sensors since he’s had to reveal himself as Phantom, but he knows that things slip their minds and if they can’t guarantee that the house is safe, then Ellie isn’t going in there. Simple as that. 

This means that they live somewhere else now. Danny had thought about it, during the hours Ellie was asleep and he was awake, exhausted and worn down to his bones, and took Jazz’s advice to accept Vlad’s offer of buying a house for him. Except he argued Vlad down to an apartment in a city of his choosing where he wouldn’t stand out too much and he would be safe, or as safe as he can be, from anyone trying to hunt down ghosts. 

So here they are. Standing in the empty living room of their new apartment in Gotham. 

Gotham may not be very safe as a city, but it’s good for two ghosts trying to pass as normal. 

Danny sighs yet again, and looks at the space he’ll need to fill. At least Vlad is footing the bill. It’s the least he can do for creating Ellie. Frostbite was the one who was able to stabilize her, though it was almost too late and resulted in her reforming as a baby, just one and a half years old. Jazz is the one who’s choosing most of the furniture, thankfully, so it’s something that Danny doesn’t need to worry about it.

It’s a new start to their lives and it feels so empty. So overwhelming. How did his parents do it? How do any parents do it?

Ellie smacks a small palm against his cheek and babbles lightly.

“I know, Ellie,” Danny says, giving her a tired smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this place looking good in no time.”

He adjusts her in his arms, then heads towards the bedroom. It’s the only room that has any furniture, and all that’s there is a bed, a crib, and a bookcase. There are a few boxes on the floor, labeled ‘bedroom’ and ‘clothing’ and ‘books’. Most of it came from his bedroom in Amity Park, but he’s pretty sure he caught Jazz sneaking a few things in before they closed the boxes and loaded them up into the car. 

“Can you be good for five minutes?” he asks Ellie. 

She babbles again and smacks his shoulder.

“I’m taking that as an agreement. Just let me open these boxes and start unpacking before you start causing trouble, okay?”

Ellie makes another sound, but it seems agreeable so Danny carefully lays her down in the crib and gets to peeling off the tape on the boxes. The opens the one labeled ‘bedroom’ first, finding blankets and sheets folded and stacked in vacuum sealed bags. One of them is his old childhood blanket, the one he carried around everywhere that was faded with age, barely blue, with white bunnies decorating it. 

He was so small when he had this. It makes him oddly emotional to unpack it and pass it on to Ellie, draping it over her so her pudgy little hands can grab at it. 

This is no time to cry, though! He forces himself to focus and makes his own bed, shaking out the sheets and fluffing up the pillows. He’ll worry about washing everything later; Vlad made sure to get an apartment with an in-unit washer and dryer, which means he was actually sensible while apartment hunting for Danny. 

He doesn’t mean to flop onto the bed once it’s made, but he ends up there anyways. He’s barely gotten a full six hours of uninterrupted sleep since Frostbite deemed Ellie healthy enough to leave his care. The drive up to Gotham was long and wore him down to his bones.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he does, drifting off as he wonders, distantly, when Jazz will be back from getting them dinner.

Ellie wakes him up at dawn with a loud cry. Danny jolts awake, heart pounding in his chest as he panics because Ellie isn’t here, she’s supposed to be in his arms, where is she? And then he sees the crib, where Ellie is staring at him through the bars, and he nearly collapses with relief. 

“Morning, El,” he says, voice rough from sleep, as he picks her up. She just stares up at him, then leans forward and rests her head against his shoulder.

It’s quiet moments like these that make his heart melt. Ellie’s had a hard life already; he wants to give her a better one, this time around. 

A quick check of the time on his nearly dead phone shows that it’s barely past six in the morning, and Jazz texted him a few times. All about furniture, saying that she didn’t want to wake them and that food is in the fridge. 

It’s only the mention of food that makes him realize how ravenous he’s feeling. Danny makes a beeline for the kitchen, ignoring everything else, and pulls out the boxes of take-out Jazz left stacked in the fridge. He devours it like he’s been starving for weeks, then gives Ellie her Ecto-Jello, the only food she’s allowed to eat until Frostbite gives the okay for solid, human food. 

Once he’s got her burped and cleaned up, Danny looks out of the kitchen and realizes that Jazz was very productive while he was asleep. The living room isn’t empty anymore; a dark green couch is against the wall, a low, rectangular coffee table made of dark wood in front of it. Two armchairs are on both sides of the couch, and a television has been installed, fixed into the wall. 

Jazz is asleep on the couch. Her legs hang off an armrest and she’s drooling slightly. 

Her phone is charging on the floor, so Danny takes it and snaps a picture of her for later teasing, then sends it to himself and writes a note to her that he’s going out with Ellie to explore the neighborhood.

He’s finally feeling more settled, energized from sleep and food.

In the warm dawn light spilling in through the windows, Danny looks down at Ellie and thinks that they’ll be just fine after all. 

. . .

Four months ago, Danny had hope. He was optimistic. 

Gotham was a fresh start, a new lease of life for Ellie. It is Danny’s attempt to be a single parent, sacrificing college for Ellie, and he’s planning to go out and beat the gangs black and blue if they start anymore shootouts in the next year.

He had just gotten Ellie to sleep. She was actually peacefully taking a nap.

And then a drive by shooter raced down the street, gunshots echoing down the road, and Ellie work up crying. She still hasn’t stopped, despite how Danny rocked her, soothing her as best he could.

They had been outside when Ellie fell asleep, her head on his shoulder. He had been catching up with Sam and Tucker when the car drove by, people ducking and crying out to avoid the bullets. Danny instinctively covered Ellie and made them both intangible, saving them from any stray bullets, but they ruined her nap and he needs to make them pay for that. 

“Shh,” he soothes, “You’re okay. We’re both fine. It’s okay, El, it’s okay.” 

Her little hands clutch at his back, twisting the fabric of his shirt, and she lets out a heartbreaking wail. He pats her back, hurrying down the street to get back to his apartment building, ignoring the looks people were giving them as they passed by. 

“I know it was scary, but you’re alright. You’re always safe with me, El.”

Ellie’s cries down down a little, but they don’t stop. She whimpers, burying her face against his shoulder as he finally reaches their apartment building.

The door’s locked, which wouldn’t be a problem except Danny can’t get his keys from his pocket. He knows he has them! But his pocket refuses to relinquish them and he has to stop every few seconds to pat Ellie’s back, trying in vain to calm her down. 

“We’ll be inside in a second,” he tells her, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, “as soon as I can get these freaking keys!”

“Hey, you alright?”

Danny startles, whirling around so fast it makes Ellie go quiet, clinging to him so she doesn’t get flung into the air. There’s a guy standing before him in a gray hoodie, looking at him with clear concern. It speaks to Danny’s level of constant exhaustion that he hadn’t clocked someone sneaking up behind him. 

The guy offers an awkward smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or anything. Um, do you need me to open to door? I live here too.”

Danny wonders for a moment if this someone dangerous, someone hoping to hurt Ellie, but she starts to cry again and he steps to the side. “Please. I can’t get my keys.”

“I’m Duke, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“Danny,” he replies, watching as Duke pulls out a large key ring, jangling with the amount of keychains on it, and easily opens the door. “I’ve been here a few months, but I’m usually inside. Or walking around in the mornings with this little monster.”

“That would explain it,” Duke says as he holds the door open, letting Danny in first. “I’m usually in classes at GCU, but I decided to take a mental health day after my lab, so here I am.”

Danny walks in and waits for Duke to follow, making sure the door closes properly behind them. “Thanks. How is GCU? What do you study? I was thinking of going there myself once she gets a little older and can go to school.”

“Oh, I’m majoring in English and Human Services.” He goes to say more, but Ellie wails again and Danny winces.

“I’m so sorry. That drive by woke her up and it’s really rattled her.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. I get it, Gotham is rough to kids.”

Danny tries rocking her back and forth, but it doesn’t help. He resigns himself to another hour of her crying before she exhausts herself, and makes for the stairs, going up to the fourth floor. Duke holds open the door again, then follows after them. It makes Danny wonder if Duke is planning to do something to them, then decides he can beat Duke in a fight, so it’s fine.

Duke doesn’t try to hurt them or steal Ellie away. He opens the door to their floor and stops before they do. “I’m in here,” he says, “If you ever need me to open more doors.”

“Thanks. Um, actually, I might need help opening mine?”

Duke just smiles and makes his way back to them, following them farther into the hall until Danny stops in front of his apartment. 

“If I could just get my keys,” he starts.

“Here, let me hold her for a second so you can get them,” Duke offers. Danny wants to insist that it’s fine, but Ellie cries directly into his ear and Danny, at the end of his rope, passes her over. 

Like magic, Ellie settles as soon as she’s in Duke’s arms. She sniffles and hides her face away, clutching to Duke’s hoodie, but she stops crying. They both go still, surprised, and stare down at her. 

“Seriously?” Danny says as he finally pulls out his keys, “Are you trying to say that I’m the problem?”

Ellie babbles lightly, and Duke turns his head to futilely hide his grin.

He grumbles as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. Ellie is acting as if she’s never been upset before a day in her life, making herself at home in Duke’s arms. 

“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own blood.”

Duke laughs as he follows Danny into his apartment, lightly patting Ellie’s back. “It’s always the smallest, cutest ones that do this.”

“Yeah? Do you work with a lot of kids or something? Used to being betrayed by the little ones?”

“I don’t work with kids per se,” Duke says, “But my foster family is a hot mess and the youngest of them likes to keep us all on our toes.”

“Family,” Danny says in a tired, fond tone.

“Family,” Duke agrees.

With his door open and Ellie calm, Danny’s ready to just lay face down on the floor for the rest of the day and not deal with anything else. He moves to take Ellie back, holding his arms out, and Duke tries to pass her over.

The key word being tries. 

Ellie tightens her grip and kicks at Danny. She refuses to be taken away from Duke, making him awkwardly try to pry her off his hoodie. Danny really hopes Duke doesn’t notice how she goes slightly intangible to make his hands fall through her arms and legs. It shouldn’t be noticeable, but it’s hard to focus on anything but a kid that clings to you, so Danny holds out for Duke’s goodwill and silence.

“As nice as it is to meet you, you need to go back to your… parent?” Danny nods when Duke looks at him in askance. “You need to go back to your parent. Okay? Come on, kid, he’s waiting for you.”

Ellie shakes her head, makes a frustrated noise, and then turns and reaches out a grabby hand towards Danny. 

She still refuses to be taken from Duke when Danny tries to pick her up again, so he settles with just letting her hold two of his fingers. 

“I’m so sorry about this,” he says to Duke, face burning. This is why he hasn’t been going out and being social since he moved in; Ellie is a handful even on the best days, and Danny doesn’t want someone to judge him as unfit to parent her and have her taken away.

Duke shakes his head, stepping closer. “It’s all good, man. I don’t mind. It’s not like I had any plans today. I’m already skipping my classes, might as well spend it with you two than sleep all day.”

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to invite you in, but I know Ellie can be a lot and not everyone wants to spend their day off with a baby.”

“I’m sure. Besides, I’d just be down the hall anyways. It’s no skin off my back, man.”

“Well,” Danny says, stepping to the side to give Duke full access to his open doorway, “Come on in, then.”

Ellie keeps them connected, one hand in Duke’s hoodie and the other holding Danny’s fingers, and though her cheeks are still red from how hard she had been crying, she’s calm now with her eyes shining with mischief. 

As the door closes behind them, Danny realizes that this is the first time someone he’s not related to has been inside his apartment. Not even Vlad has come in, always choosing to invite Danny and Ellie out for lunch instead. 

It should make him nervous, but Duke is calm and easy going and kind. 

He’s making silly faces at Ellie to make her laugh, completely at ease with her in his arms, as if he’s done this a thousand times before. 

Gotham is a second chance at life for Ellie. It’s a sacrifice for Danny, to be alone and without friends or family around. He’d been ready to give up everything for Ellie, to focus solely on raising her, but with Duke filling his apartment with laughter, he thinks that he can make a life here too.

All he needs to do is take that first step, reach his hand out, ask Duke to stick around.

He can do this.

[infiniteinquiries]

♡ Coffee shop au in which ellie is a barista and knows you like her so she keeps making you increasingly terrible drinks to see how far she can push you ♡

pt. 1

—-------

(pt. 2 here)

Ellie knew that you liked her. She could tell from the moment you tripped over the ugly doormat to the all-too-expensive oh-so-trendy coffee shop she worked at and looked up only to stop in your tracks barely through the door frame. So close, in fact, that she was surprised it didn’t hit you as it slammed shut, the force knocking you out of your shocked gaze.

You had tried to play it cool, pretending like nobody saw your lack of coordination as you faked inspecting the overpriced local art on display before ambling over to the counter. Ellie had watched your movements out of the corner of her eye, curious about what you’d do next. You were…cute enough she supposed, at least to capture a sliver of her attention.

When you approached the counter, you looked almost overwhelmed by all the options, so Ellie thought she would throw you a bone. You know, obviously so you could stop embarrassing yourself and totally not because…

Anyway, she recommended the same thing she recommended every queer looking girl who walked in: iced chai, oat milk, and cinnamon spiced syrup. You had nodded thankfully, and perhaps overenthusiastically, at the suggestion.

Ellie smirked slightly once you were out of view and had settled into an uncomfortable yet sleek minimalist seat.

Now, she really had meant to put the cinnamon syrup into your drink. She would’ve sworn on it. But in the chaos of the morning rush, she’d gotten her wires crossed, and somehow a chai with pineapple syrup was on its way to you.

Ellie called your name, not yet realizing her mistake. She watched you as you approached, failing to hide a smile from her, and watched you take the first sip. Only then, did she remember the flavor sin she had committed.

She cleared her throat, trying not to stare as she waited for your reaction.

Somehow, you didn’t even flinch. You thanked her for the drink, bouncing your head in a cheerful nod. She couldn’t believe it.

As she called the next guest to come get their order, the one that really was supposed to have pineapple in it, she glanced your way and saw you gathering your things. You didn’t even throw away that terrible drink, you left the shop with a smile and rounded the corner out of sight with it, still in hand.

Ellie smirked and stifled a laugh. You weren’t the first girl to look at her the way you did, but you were the first to not put her in her place when she made a drink that horribly wrong.

It made her wonder: If you came back, and that’s a big IF, what else could she get away with?

[ohhiplumbob]

🛍️🧋

[virsancte]

good days aren't easy to come by

[thru-the-grapevine]

Holiday Rush

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Summary: Your favorite regular has one hell of a way of saying Merry Christmas (and getting your attention).

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags: coffee shop au, sugar daddy-adjacent au, fluff

You’ve had less eventful Christmas Eve mornings, to be sure. Especially 4:30 AMs on Christmas Eve mornings. For starters, you were asleep like a normal person on all the other ones. For another, you weren’t usually bailed on out of nowhere by your manager due to “a family emergency”, leaving you in charge of the entire store. Nor were you typically bailed on by two other workers, both of whom had a “sudden onset illness”, leaving you with only three people other than you to cover everything the inevitable last-minute holiday-shopping horde would throw at you.

By the time you’ve got things in some semblance of order and preparation for opening, there’s already a car idling in the drive thru, and there’s a slight ache in your left temple.

“Siobhan, you’re on mobile bar,” you order. “Luke, drive bar. You’ll both have to do your own cold bar since Geo and Kennedy flaked. I need Phoenix on customer support and food. I’m gonna attempt solo drive for the first couple hours, and if it gets nuts I’ll pull one of you in to assist. If it gets slow in your area, work on putting away the order. I may have to turn off mobile if it comes to it, but that’ll piss people off, so let’s try to keep up.”

You slip your headset on, watch the digital clock on the order screen turn from 4:59 to 5:00, then click the button. “Good morning, welcome to Starbucks. What can I get started for you this morning?”

“Morning, Chief. Didn’t think you’d be here today. Happy Christmas Eve.”

A little of the tension in your head relaxes, and you smile, tapping away at the order screen. “Ah, Gyu. You’re early. Happy Christmas Eve. Usual?”

“Sounds perfect, thanks.”

“Come on around,” you say, not caring if you sound a little flirty.

Your store has its regulars, and he is by far your favorite. He comes in nearly every day, orders the same thing (grande caramel macchiato, extra shot, for “Gyu”), makes friendly conversation, and leaves a tip three times the price of his drink. Without fail. You’ve never figured out what it is he does for a living, but given the immaculate cars (yes, plural) you’ve seen him drive through in, it probably pays really well.

The whole staff loves him. Some of the bolder ones flirt with him just to fluster him, but they know if you’re on the floor to let you hand him the drink. For reasons beyond your comprehension, he seems to have a soft spot for you. He mistook you for the manager when he first stopped into the cafe, and he’s called you different in-charge nicknames since then—“chief”, “captain”, “commander”. It’s probably giving you an authority complex. You don’t care. The confidence boost his interest in you has given over the past year has gifted you a boldness that he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Must be Gyu already,” Siobhan remarks when she sees you surreptitiously smoothing your hair.

You flip her off as the hood of a familiar black BMW comes into view.

“Kinda early for Christmas Eve,” you say by way of greeting as the car window pulls level with yours.

God, he’s gorgeous, smiling up at you, all bundled up in his expensive-looking wool coat and black turtleneck.

“Could say the same for you,” he says. “Don’t they ever give you a break around here?”

Your smile turns wry, and you sigh lightly. “They’d perish without me, I think.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, grimacing lightly in sympathy. “Hopefully not here all day, right? Got plans for the holiday?”

“Just here ‘til noon, then going an hour north to my family’s for a couple days,” you tell him, grabbing the scanner. “Want me to cash you out?”

“Ah. About that.”

You watch him reach into the passenger seat, grabbing something the size of a woman’s clutch, then extends it to you.

You set the scanner down and go to take it, then freeze, blinking.

“Uh. Gyu.”

“Yes?”

“What is that?”

“...Money?”

“I mean. I. Yeah, like. Is it…real?”

“Yes?”

“That’s…way more than your drink.”

“Yes.”

“Like. Are those all twenties?”

“Yes.”

“...I only need a fourth of a single one of those.”

“I know. Take them all.”

You don’t understand. “I—wh…”

He grins. “I feel like being Saint Nick today. I’m paying it forward for the next customers.”

Holy shit. “The next…thousand customers?”

“Hardly. Probably half that. But you don’t know how many big orders there will be, it could be less than that, too.”

“Sir.” Your head is spinning, hand still frozen inches away from the stack of bills that looks honest-to-god like out of the mafia movies. “Sir. That’s…”

You don’t even know how to finish that sentence. That’s not necessary? Your manager would kill you if she found out you refused generosity. That’s ridiculous? It might be, but you don’t want to tell this man that, not when he’s been so wonderful to you.

“I’m not even sure I’m allowed to take this,” you say.

He shrugs. “It’s all twenties, not fifties or hundreds. You can mark them all with a counterfeit pen if it helps. Call your manager if you need, I can talk to her. If you need to call the cops, even, you can. C’mon, I’ve been planning on this for ages. Let me do this.”

The thing is…he’s allowed to do this. You suppose. Technically. You huff a single, breathless laugh, incredulous.

“You…are fucking insane,” you breathe, grinning, not caring how in awe you sound.

His smile turns flustered, and he laughs a little. “If it doesn’t all get used today, put the rest in the tips.”

He’s finally done it. He’s finally rendered you speechless. You can feel your mouth hanging open, not sure what you’re supposed to say. Not sure what you can say.

Gingerly, like it’s alive, you take the stack of bills he’s offering.

“Dude,” you say, laughing again. Absurd. “Dude. Are you…?”

“Completely sure,” he says, eyes warm. “Merry Christmas to your customers. And your staff. And you.”

“Grande caramel macchiato, extra shot,” Luke says behind you, sliding you the cup.

You linger a moment longer, holding eye contact, before ducking back in the window and setting the cash next to the register, swapping it for the drink.

“Holy shit,” you say, laughing as you hand him the drink. “Have a merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” he says, grinning, and then he winks at you.

Your insides light up like a Christmas tree. You indulge for a second and stare after his car as he drives off. God. What?

This Christmas Eve is about to be the most fascinating yet.

You have to get Phoenix on headset to take the next drive-thru order so you have time to count out the bills and cash out the order properly. You feel lightheaded after counting the first several hundred, possibly a little ill by the time you total it out. Three thousand.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter under your breath, laughing as you punch in the frankly ludicrous number. That’s half of what the store makes on a slow day. Granted, today will not be a slow day–you can already see more cars filing into the parking lot–but that money covers a chunk of business.

All morning, you have the absolute joy of watching people come up to the window, ready to pay, and telling them “actually, your order’s been covered by someone further up in line”. The looks of surprise, the occasional relief, and the smiles don’t get old or lose their shine. A couple of people get emotional, and you can’t blame them. You feel your own throat tighten when some of the customers insist on paying for the person behind them.

“Someone spotted me, let me spot someone, too,” one lady puts it, paying twice what she would have paid originally to cover the vanload behind her. “Why not? It’s Christmas.”

“Crazy what a little generosity inspires in people,” Phoenix comments as the lady drives away.

You can’t say you disagree, but there’s only one man in mind when you think it.

Luke points out that the more people keep paying it forward, the less that initial amount goes down, and the more of it that gets allotted to tips. You outright refuse to think about it. I can’t take that. There’s no way. I’ll have to give him money back, that’s just…

Even by the time you switch off of drive with Siobhan, about 75% of customers insist on continuing to pay it forward, keeping the dizzying remaining amount from Gyu fairly steady. Siobhan is far less willing to do the mental work of paying it forward and eventually asks whether it can’t just be cashed out to the tip fund.

“He probably wanted to leave most of it as tips, anyway,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you. “He’s got a track record, plus he likes you.”

You feel your face grow hot. “He does not.”

Siobhan rolls her eyes. “Whatever, live in denial. Can I put this in the tip fund?”

“...Fine.”

For the last hour of your shift, you concentrate on calculating tips. Even divided amongst all the store employees and adjusted for the amount of hours each person worked, everyone ends up with over a hundred in tips total. You end up with nearly twice that, after the hours you’ve done. Crazy. Absolutely unreal. You’re already thinking of the last couple gifts you were hoping you could afford to spring for for family and friends. Easily done now, with this tip money.

“Tips are in the safe,” you tell your coworkers as you zip up your coat and make for the door. “Everyone say Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”

You grin as you hear a chorus of “Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu!” behind you as you step out into the cold.

You’re halfway across the parking lot to your car when you notice a black BMW. You wander to a stop, hesitant, as the car pulls even with you in the nearest parking spot and the door opens.

“Did you need more coffee?” You ask, biting your lip as he steps out.

Gyu closes his car door and shakes his head, grinning. “Already got my fix today, I’m good.”

“Shame,” you say, fighting a smile, “because I happen to know that if you went through the drive-thru right now, your order would already be covered.”

He leans back against his car and raises his eyebrows. “It lasted this long? You’d think there’d be more business than that today.”

“Everyone else kept insisting on paying it forward, too,” you say, shaking your head in awe. “What did you start?”

“Well, you certainly deserve it,” he says, and the way his smile softens makes your stomach flutter. “Hopefully it’ll end up as tips, if people keep paying it forward?”

“It’s too much,” you tell him, trying to be as firm as possible. “Far too much. I really can’t accept that.”

“It’s a gift,” he insists. “For how long you’ve been subjected to my patronage.”

“Everyone loves you in the store, they always have,” you argue.

He looks at you intently. “Everyone?”

You feel your face grow hot again. “...Yes. Everyone.”

You push through the way you want to be flustered as he grins. “But that’s what I’m saying. You’re hardly a difficult customer. It was too much.”

“You know,” he says, “it’s possible I just want to spoil you.”

You open your mouth, then snap it shut, then open it again. Holy shit, he’s made you speechless again. Twice in the same day.

“You don’t even know me,” you argue weakly.

He gives you a Look. “I’ve talked to you nearly every day for around a year. I know lots of things about you. Like your cats. Your family, mainly your sister. The saga of your car. Things you like to read and watch. Some of the jokes you find funny. And you know a lot of the same things about me.”

“I don’t even know if Gyu is your real name!” You burst out.

He frowns. “It is, mostly. It’s short for Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. You’ve seen it on the receipts.”

You haven’t, but you believe him. You try out the name. “Mingyu.”

A corner of his mouth curls into a smile. He puts his hands in his coat pockets. “Tell me that hasn’t been your only hangup this whole time.”

“I-I mean…” you stammer. “N-no? I mean, it’s been one thing, but like…you’re, like. Um. You seem very…successful, and I’m…”

He frowns. “You’re successful, too. I—wait. Is this…is it money?”

“I guess I’m just…embarrassed,” you say, feeling your face burn in shame. “Maybe my pride’s too big, I dunno.”

“Hey, I don’t want you to think this is some weird, fetish-y charity case thing I have, or that I think you can be, like, bought or something,” he says, looking serious. “If you really can’t accept the money, I won’t stop you from giving it back.”

He sighs, teeth worrying his lower lip. “I just…I like you. I always have. You seem to be the only person who doesn’t realize it, or maybe I’m the idiot who can’t take a hint, but—”

“Mingyu—”

“But I really do,” he continues doggedly. “I think you work hard, but you’re so kind. You do good work so that you can be kind, so you can give people more than just something to eat or drink, and that’s just…it’s really—”

“I could kiss you right now for that,” you say, then slap a hand over your mouth. Dude??

Mingyu blinks, then laughs. “At least let me take you to dinner first.”

You wish you could sink into the pavement, even as your heart gives a silly little leap. He wants to take me to dinner. “I…I’m…”

“I know it’s Christmas Eve and you’ve got places to be,” he says, and you wonder if he looks a little nervous. “But I really would like to see you. Outside of work. Would you let me take you out sometime?”

You stand there for a moment in stupefied silence. Holy shit, this has to be a dream. A man like Kim Mingyu doesn’t just…give your workplace thousands of dollars to tip you and then ask you to dinner. What in the name of Wattpad...

“I…you’re fucking insane,” you laugh, breathless.

He looks like he doesn’t know how to take this, and before you can talk yourself out of it you find yourself saying, “I’m, uh, I’m free on New Years?”

A slow grin spreads over his face. “Yeah? Funny enough, so am I.”

Definitely the strangest Christmas Eve you’ve ever had. But it may also be your new favorite.

[elliespuns]

So 16yo Ellie and 55yo Joel live together in the normal world. They live the best-shining example of a father-daughter relationship, and yeah, well, Joel is a busy man, working out of town, and he gets this deal where he has to leave for two weeks and he can't take Ellie with him because she has school, and it's not that easy, and she's like, "Go, I'll be fine, you know me." and he's like, "Yeah, fuck I do!" and is refusing to leave, but it's hard because he needs the money, and this opportunity means more money, and more money means making Ellie's life more comfortable, and he's thinking about it, and it's fucking him up. One night he has a chat with Ellie, and she finally convinces him to go, and he's like, "Okay, but under one condition. You're calling me every two hours to tell me you didn't set our house on fire. And if by any chance you did, you call to tell me that you'd at least run outside." and she huffs a laugh and is like, "You know I'm spending almost 8 hours a day at school, right?" and he just cups her cute, freckled face in his hands and kisses her forehead, "Then cut the classes and call me from the bathroom." he jokes. They both laugh. It's decided. He's going.

The next morning, he comes to her room to tuck her in bed, kiss her head and then leaves with a heavy feeling in his heart. He will miss that girl like crazy and worry all the time. But at least he's giving her some space, right? She's 16 after all—not such a kid anymore. So he leaves her money worth two weeks of spending with a loving message pinned on the fridge for when she wakes up. "Please don't starve to death. Eat properly! Miss you already. P.S.: every TWO HOURS!"

I just had this five-second scenario entering my mind about Ellie going grocery shopping, and I'm dying because this would literally be her idea of two weeks of food supplies.

peanut butter, jelly, Frootloops, milk, mac n' cheese, Milk Duds, M & Ms, Reese's, two frozen pizzas, waffles, deodorant, big tub of ice cream, cookies, tampons, two cans of Dr Pepper, big bottle of Mountain Dew, RedBull, Sprite, apples, Oreos, chips, popcorn, muffins, pancake mix

After two weeks, Joel pulls in the driveway with a 'luckily, the house is still standing' thought in his head and then comes home to all the junk lying around the place like, "That girl is going to be the death of me, I swear."

[kittycrosssing]

Ellie's Sweets Shop

We gave Ellie the sweet treat shop of her dreams!

Tour this vacation home and more by finding me on Happy Home Network! HHN ID: RA-2840-5620-5187

Got a sweet tooth? Stop by Ellie's vacation home and grab a treat in the sweets shop on the main floor!

Wanna work here? Have a look behind the counter and familiarize yourself with the storeroom/kitchen!

Upstairs, we gave Ellie her own mini apartment! Now she can live in her dream home and run her own treats shop all in one place!

[maggiecheungs]

Illustrations by Tai Tun-Pang from the FLP edition of Dream of the Red Chamber

[infiniteinquiries]

♡ Coffee shop au in which ellie is a barista and knows you like her so she keeps making you increasingly terrible drinks to see how far she can push you ♡

pt. 3

--------

pt. 1 // pt. 2

At this point, Ellie truly couldn't believe you were back again. Maybe that's why she left the note last time, in hopes the crumb of kindness, and totally not half-sarcastic sharpie imprint would have you come crawling back. She liked the game of it all.

It was 11 AM on a Saturday this time, a lazy late morning hour where the foot traffic was surprisingly at a lull, snowflakes swirling by the windows, and in you came. She couldn't help but curl her lip upward in genuine amusement. She quickly hid it and bit the inside of her cheek scolding herself at the embarassing expression. She hoped you hadn't seen it.

The way you coyly looked to the right at nothing and back at her making brief eye contact said otherwise.

"You again," she looked over her browbone right through you, leaning over the register with her weight braced in her somewhat overly muscular arms for her profession. "What'll it be this time?" Her words once again dripped in a sneering tone, a confident yet subtle smirk painted across her features.

You rocked back on your heels and onto your toes, it was kind of cute she thought to herself.

"Hmm," you paused, one brow raised, "I think I'll do something simple. Could I geeeet...an Americano?" You nodded when you finished your sentence.

Ellie chuckled at the request, this time in a tone a little less frigid, and made sure to make direct eye contact with you. "One overpriced espresso water coming up. That'll be $7." She couldn't believe anyone would pay these prices.

You pulled a different wallet out of your jacket today, slender with--oh--no coin pocket. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek trying not to show her amusement outwardly. You handed her a shiny blue card. She rung you up on the register and handed you back your back the item, making sure to place it in your palm just slow enough that your hands touched for a second. You were warm despite the impossible cold outside. She watched as your eyes widened just a bit. How cute. She loved having this effect on women.

It was a slow day with the weather the way it was, so she took it upon herself to make your drink. As pretentious as the roastery was, they got new ingredients in all the time. When they had gotten a new shipment of Chia seeds in that week, Ellie knew exactly what to do when inevitably came in. She didn't know why she cared so much about seeing you, so she chalked it up to the thrill of it really. How far could she push you until you confronted her?

She expertly maneuvered the espresso machine and flew through the process of making the best americano in town. It was almost a shame she was going to ruin it. Right before she walked up to call your name, she threw a few Chia seeds into the cup, stirring them with a wooden stirrer. That would thicken the drink up to a texture that was just plain awful. In a way, she wanted you to call her out. This "mistake" was particularly bold, even for a novice, which she wasn't.

She brought your drink to the end of the counter and searched the room for you. Scrolling your phone, foot braced against the wall, there you were. She looked you once over, checking out what you wore today. Your coat rested around your shoulders, and underneath was a cut-off t-shirt and some jeans leading into the pair of boots you always wore. It was a little cold for that kind of getup she thought to herself. When her eyes settled back on your face, she saw you making eye contact at her from across the room. Busted.

She called out your name, cheeks burning red as she looked away. All she wanted to do was make an excuse to go to the back now. But of course, being the only one on staff this morning, she couldn't.

"Thanks...Ellie." She heard you say behind her. She noted how you weighed the syllables of her name almost mockingly. When she turned around to look at you, you were taking a sip of her newest concoction and her eyes widened as she realized you were about to try it right in front of her. No plausible deniability now.

She wished you were rounding the corner like usual right now so she didn't have to watch this unfold in real time.

Mid-sip, she heard you make a noticeable yet quiet cough in the back of your throat. Shaking your head, she watched you lean over the counter with a smirk as you set your drink down, your hair bouncing around your features as you moved closer to her, a smug amusement blazing in your eyes.

"You know Ellie, for seven dollars, you'd think this place could make a decent drink."

......

@elliewilliamsgf69 @vgnoxi @bunkisses4u @lovergirlism

[kyurochurro]

🍰🍮 sweets for chopper! (I just. really wanted to fully render sanji ok that’s my excuse SHHH)

[leodoodlesstuff]

I’ll be closing my shop up from the 12th until the 18th, so now is the time to sneak a little pre Christmas order 😉

[yvaslibrary]

In this charming scene, Pedro Pascal savors the sweetness of a strawberry, his expression a delightful blend of joy and contentment. It's a candid moment of pure delight, frozen in time by Bella Ramsey's artistic lens, at the 29th Critics Choice Awards.

This sticker invites you to immerse yourself in the enchantment of that moment, to revel in the simple pleasures of life as Pedro Pascal does. Stick it on your laptop, notebook, or any surface in need of a touch of whimsy, and let Pedro brighten your day. ✨🍓

🌟 yvaslibrary.etsy.com 🌟

[ellies-enrichment]

the lil angel on his shoulder told him NO david geez

alt title: disappointed i can’t find jonesy from fortnite with the driver :( i wanted to put it in the corner