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steddiealltheway · 9 months

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(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)

Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”

“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.

“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”

“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”

All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”

Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”

“We’ve never done a livestream.”

“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”

“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.

Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”

“You never know!”

Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.

“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.

Eddie pauses and turns around.

“What money am I using to by this stuff?”

Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”

Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”

Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jeff, give me your phone.”

Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”

“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.

Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”

Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”

Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.

Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”

“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.

“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”

“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.

Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”

Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”

“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”

Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.

Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”

Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”

Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”

He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.

Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”

All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”

“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.

Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”

“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.

Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”

“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.

“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.

Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.

“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.

He freezes.

“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.

Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.

“What?” Gareth asks.

Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”

The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.

Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”

“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.

“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.

Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.

Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”

Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”

They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.

They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.

They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”

The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.

“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.

Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”

Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.

“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”

Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”

“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.

As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.

“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.

“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.

“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.

“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.

Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.

As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?

This is Steve Harrington by the way

Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????

He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.

can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it

eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything

okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad

eddieeeee

eddie stop ignoring me

if you don’t respond im going to send your number

okay

im sending it

if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again

Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.

And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”

Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.

Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”

“Zero.”

Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”

“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”

Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”

Eddie sits up. “What?”

“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”

“To punch me?”

Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”

Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.

“Eddie? Are you still there?”

“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”

“No way,” Eddie calls him out.

“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”

Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah.”

Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.

“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.

Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”

Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”

Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”

Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”

Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”

Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”

“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.

Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.

Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #corroded coffin #jeff stranger things #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #aka Grant

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anyroads · 2 years

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OK you know what, if we're gonna talk about Bake Off then fuck it, let's do this.

It used to be this wholesome, lovely show! We used to watch it for the bakers! And the learning! And the light banter and occasional bit of coy innuendo! What happened?

Channel 4 happened. When they bought the show they made a number of changes, most of them Not Good™️. Not just in the sense of them resulting in a lot of 😬 and 🫠 moments, but in the sense of how they changed the show's purpose, atmosphere, and brand.

Look, I know most people are just like, "whatever, it's just a baking show," and yeah, sure. But it's one of the UK's most successful TV exports, and where it once shifted the tone of reality competition to being wholesome and supportive of contestants, it's since moved towards creating tension at the contestants' cost. So aside from the fact that most people watching it signed up to watch a nice show, it has also shifted the goalposts of what that even means. And that, lovelies and gentlefolk, is some bullshit.

I decided to break my rant analysis into four main parts: theme weeks, the hosts, the judges, and the bakers. Let's get to it!

Theme Weeks:

If you watch Bake Off, you know the show's always had a specific theme for each week. The staples that come up in most seasons are:

cake

biscuit

bread

pudding/dessert

pastry

patisserie

Less common but consistent are things like caramel and chocolate week.

Then there are the fun episodes! When GBBO was on the BBC, this started out with things tea week, tarts, pies, tray bakes, basically little tangents still focused on emphasizing specific baking skills. In Series 6 (still on the BBC) they had their first nation-focused theme week with French week -- fairly innocuous given that a lot of patisserie is French, France and England share much more culture than either cares to admit [Norman Flag dot gif], and it was a nice change from watching Paul make the bakers do recipes that involved boiling things while talking about how wonderful boiled doughs are (are they, Paul? Are they?).

The show kept mixing it up with innocuous themes like advanced dough and alternative ingredients weeks, European cakes, Victorian week, batter week, and botanical week. And while it was frustrating to watch Paul Hollywood mispronounce things like the Hungarian Dobos Torta and lecture bakers on babka when he clearly knew nothing about it (or about Jewish baking in general, go off Past Me), the show's general attitude was that the judges had their own opinions, which were separate from the immutable facts around the chemistry of baking (more on this later) and shouldn't affect how bakers are judged.

After the show moved to Channel 4, the number of themed weeks increased and more of them focused on specific countries. In 6 seasons on the BBC, there were only two country-focused theme weeks, and in 5 seasons on Channel 4 there have been five. And while they've also had themes like vegan baking, roaring 20s, the 1980s, spice week, etc. the show has really started to go hard on exoticizing other cultures in outright disrespectful and racist ways. There's been Italian and Danish week, German, Japanese (it wasn't, it was East Asian week), and now Mexican week (which doesn't touch on interspersed Jewish bakes that didn't get a theme week, like versions of bagels and babka set as technical challenges that were borderline hate crimes and mansplained by a guy who has no idea how to make either and once wrote in a cookbook that challah was traditionally eaten during Passover). Each time the hosts played up the theme with racist bits and jokes that can be used as evidence in court if your case is "why should shows with scripted content have a professional writing staff."

Which touches on other issues the show has now...

The Hosts:

When GBBO was on the BBC, the show was hosted by ✨Mel Giedroyc✨ and ✨Sue Perkins✨. They encouraged the bakers! They'd hold stuff for them sometimes! They were interested in them! If a baker had a breakdown, they would start singing copyrighted material to render the footage unusable! When the show moved to Channel 4, they left, though I'm not unconvinced that Channel 4 offered them impossible to accept contracts to force them out so they could rebrand the show. They replaced them with Sandy Toksvig and Noel Fielding. Sandy was a lovely host in the vein of Mel and Sue, and she and Noel had a relatively sweet rapport, but she left a few seasons ago and was replaced by Matt Lucas.

Noel Fielding is mostly known for his quirky brand of comedy, a sort of British Zooey Deschanel who's goth from the neck up, an upperclass British gay divorcee from the neck down, and basically an early 60s Beatle re: trousers. Matt Lucas has almost definitely never watched a single episode of GBBO and his most redeeming quality is his thinly veiled contempt for Paul Hollywood.

The two treat the baking tent as their personal playground. Far from the supportive attitude of Mel and Sue, they tend to get in the bakers' way during the most stressful moments, especially when they try to do hilarious "comedy" bits (I can't not put that in quotes) like Noel's talking wooden spoon thing, or Matt talking over Noel to do time calls. During theme weeks like Japanese and Mexican week, they do culture-specific bits that are both racist ("just Juan joke" and "is Mexico a real place?") and unsurprising, given that both Matt and Noel did blackface on their respective sketch shows and absolutely could and should have known better because it was already the current fucking century.

All this to say, there's now a separation between the bakers and the hosts, as if they're on different shows. The hosts are doing their own thing and the bakers are doing GBBO. The show has gotten meaner to the bakers, and the hosts aren't there to support them anymore, they're just there to be comic relief. Because when you refocus your show on stressing the bakers the fuck out, you need a forced laugh I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The Judges:

First of all, a sincere congratulations to Paul Hollywood who managed to squeeze I jUsT cAmE bAcK fRoM mExIcO aNd YeT sTiLL pRoNoUnCe PiCo De GaLLo As 'PiKa De KaLLa' and I aM aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS wHiCh aRe MaDe WiTh DiGeStiVe BiScUiTs AcCoRdiNg tO mE, aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS, just two in a giant pile of astoundingly wrong hot takes, into a short enough time span that they all aired within Liz Truss's term as Prime Minister. A true man of accomplishments.

In the interest of fairness, I need to preface this with a disclaimer that, due to the fact that I've been watching Bake Off for most of its run, I'm biased. Specifically, I can't stand Paul Hollywood's smarmy, classist, egomaniac ass because he's proven time and again he's more interested in looking smart than actually knowing what he's talking about. Since the show moved to Channel 4, they've changed the occasional handshake Paul would give bakers to the HoLlYwOoD hAnDsHaKe™️. It's gone from being an emphasis of someone's skill to a goal, a reward, and one that emphasizes the judges' place above the bakers.

The judges used to function as teachers, imparting their skills and insights to the bakers. When the show was on the BBC, the voiceover leading to a judging would focus on the bakers' work being finished, saying how it will now be evaluated based on their skill and how well they met the brief. The voiceovers now, on Channel 4, focus on the judging (literally saying something along the lines of, "the bakers will now be judged by Prue and Paul"). There is a clear distinction Channel 4's producers have made, to mark that the show is now about whether or not the judges approve, not whether the brief was understood and executed well. On the BBC, it was irrelevant whether the judges liked a particular flavor, as long as the bake was well-made. Now, the bakers are expected to know the judges tastes and cater to them, which is frankly bullshit. A judge doesn't have to like a flavor to know whether or not it was executed well, ie. is it carrying a bake and was it meant to etc.

The judges have been turned into a brand. Cynically, Channel 4 knows that by building them up and focusing the show more on them, they can exploit their image more for profit. In the process, they've become much more biased and their own biases have come out as well. Most recently in the flaming dumpster fire that was Mexican Week, Paul Hollywood tried to intimidate a baker by telling them he had just gotten back from Mexico (which must have been a fruitful learning trip if he couldn't even learn how to pronounce pico de gallo correctly). Where do I even start with this? Here's an amateur baker from England (the show specifically casts middle and lower middle class bakers for the most part??) who likely can't afford trips to Mexico, who lives in a country with incredibly limited access to Mexican cuisine, who is expected not only to understand the cooking and baking traditions of a completely different culture but to do so well enough to play with it and do something creative with it. On top of which, one of the judges is now using his privilege of traveling halfway around the world as some kind of leverage, as if this were a bar that any amateur British baker could clear.

Prue, meanwhile, has openly asserted her biases against cultural flavors and textures, prioritizing her own personal preferences over them, as if they were in any way relevant to the skills and knowledge necessary to execute the tasks she sets to the bakers. She has also been consistently elitist, criticizing bakers for choices they made that were clearly informed by their experiences within income brackets that are too low and foreign for Prue to comprehend. She once had a go at a baker on a Christmas special because his Christmas dinner themed bake didn't have a turkey, even though it was clear from the stories he shared of his own Christmases that his family likely couldn't afford one. "It's not really Christmas dinner without a turkey," Prue said into the camera angrily while sitting on a chair made of live orphans and telling the ghost of Christmas Future to come back when he had another museum gift shop necklace for her to round out her collection.

The show is no longer about which baker has the best skills. It's become about which mortal can appease the gods of Mount Olympus, ie. the judges.

The Bakers:

Remember when the show was about them? Channel 4 doesn't! Because this is a reality competition show, the bakers are chosen both based on their skills, as well as cast-ability. They're cast as characters, distinct from each other, from different areas, age groups, ethnicities. All of them are amateurs. All of them are middle or lower middle class. They've ranged from college students to supermarket cashiers to prison wardens to scientists.

Something I noticed when the show moved to Channel 4 is that the baker who goes home in the first week is always wildly behind the rest in skills. I have no proof of this other than my eyeballs and deductive reasoning skills, but I think that Channel 4 deliberately casts a ringer each season who they think will be an easy send-off in the first week, just to get the audience's feet wet.

Anyway, like I said, this show used to be about the bakers - about them building skills and learning, and having walked into the tent with a self-taught foundation and understanding of the processes and chemical reactions involved in baking. When the show was on the BBC, the end of each round had some (often brief) moments of tension - will they finish in time? Will they get their bakes on the plate before time is up? Did they forget to add sugar to their batter and only remember at the last minute? In the end, they usually managed to finish and we'd all breathe a sigh of relief and think, yeah! You go, Bakers Who I'm Rooting For!

Now, on Channel 4, the end of round drama has been stretched to be so much longer that they've composed extra music for it. The bakers often seem out of their depth, whether because the instructions for the technical challenge are too vague (bake a lemon meringue pie??? As if anyone in the UK under the age of 60 has had one in the last decade???), or because they were expected to bake something that required a more than a basic foundation they weren't told of. Often it seems like they just aren't given enough time, a tactic used by reality competition shows to manipulate contestants into giving the cameras more dramatic content. On top of all this, the hosts get in their way, instead of helping them plate their bakes. As has been pointed out before, when everyone fails the challenge, the real failure lies with whoever set it.

In conclusion:

The show no longer exists to teach the bakers - and the audience - skills or knowledge. It now manipulates contestants for dramatic effect and prioritizes showing conflict over wholesome content. Channel 4 sees the bakers as social media content they can churn out season after season, and don't care about them because in a few months there'll be a new batch to exploit. Meanwhile, the judges are also out of their depth, co-opting recipes from other cultures and butchering them horrendously, while the camera gives them nothing but status as they hold bakers to the expectation that they learn how to make things very much the wrong way. If you saw any of the tweets about Mexican or Japanese week, or read my post on how Paul Hollywood isn't allowed to go near babka ever again, you'll understand.

So what would fix all this? Scrap the current judges and the hosts altogether. Bring back Mel and Sue, and replace the judges with expert bakers who have a love of their craft and want to share it with others. The draw of GBBO used to be its warmth and comfort - if Channel 4 isn't going to start its own version of Master Chef For Bakers, then it needs to stop trying to find a balance of how it can insert that vibe into GBBO. It can't. That's not a thing. Stop trying.

#GBBO #paul hollywood #prue leith #the great british bake off

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bro-atz · 4 months

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bottle service

in which: all yunho wants to do is fuck the bottle girl's brains out.

pair: big dick!yunho/small!afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

content: smut, completely consensual!

author's note: @yourfatherlucifer for you my love 💕

tag list: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia apply for the permanent taglist here! network: @cromernet

Yunho didn’t have a type, per se, but he found himself always drawn to girls like you. His friends made fun of him, telling him that he had a lolita complex, but that was definitely, completely, 100% not true, especially because he was not at all attracted to underaged girls. No way. Absolutely not. He just liked dainty little women with soft facial features and short statures— what she could be wearing doesn’t matter to him at all (because, honestly, he would rather they wear nothing at all).

“Five bucks says he hits on her by the end of the night,” Yunho heard Mingi whisper to San.

“There’s no fucking way I’m taking that bet because we already fucking know he’s going to do it,” San, already completely wasted, conveyed his opinion along with his sailor mouth.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Mingi frowned.

Yunho rolled his eyes. As Mingi and San continued to bicker in the background, Yunho’s eyes followed your every movement. He watched as your hair swayed gracefully while your short legs carried you around the room, making you seem like you were almost gliding. For someone so short, he was surprised to see you carrying multiple trays of beer, and his eyes flew wide open when he saw you effortlessly carry a huge bottle of champagne that could very well be three times your size— the bottle was bigger than your head for crying out loud.

“You know it’s going to be impossible to hit on a bottle girl of all people. Let’s be real, Yunho, she probably gets rich bastards hitting on her all the time, and she doesn’t even need that since she’s making so much in tips,” Seonghwa brought his voice down as he talked to the man.

“Yeah, just give up, dude,” Wooyoung added. “It ain’t never gonna happen.”

Clenching his jaw, Yunho was determined to prove them wrong. He walked away from the table and immediately up to you.

Now looking at you a little closer, Yunho didn’t realize that you were practically naked. You were wearing nothing but a cropped tank top and high-rise shorts, your red underwear peaking out whenever you bent down or moved your shoulder. Fuck, it just made the tall man want you even more.

“Hey,” he started, thinking that the line by itself would be enough.

“Hi, darling. Would your table like another round?” you, on the other hand, were in sales mode. You had no time to be flirting with this man.

“Actually, I—”

“Hey, Y/N! One more round for me and my boys!” another customer yelled from afar.

“You got it, darlin’!”

Yunho gaped as you immediately got back to work. He slunk back to his table and stood with a frown, the boys silent for a hot second before immediately bursting out into laughter.

“You’re an idiot, Yunho!” Hongjoong roared as he clapped the man on the back.

“San, you should’ve taken the bet,” Jongho pointed out.

“No, because the bet was on whether or not he would go and flirt, not whether or not he would be successful. If you said get her by the end of the night, I would’ve happily taken that bet,” San snickered.

“You guys suck,” Yunho grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Yunho wasn’t able to really focus on much after that. He wanted you even more.

You stepped out for a smoke. God knows you needed it. Yes, the tips were really fucking good, but dealing with sleazy businessmen and frat bros spending all of their daddy’s money was less than ideal. Truth be told, there was only one table there that night that you didn’t mind serving. They all seemed like a bunch of well off dudes with enough money to spend but none of the pretentiousness. Especially that one super tall guy who approached you. He didn’t seem so bad.

“Just get over it. It’s not going to happen.”

Your ears perked up when you heard a man with the lowest voice on Earth speak from around the corner. You peeked your head around to see the tall man and another one of his friends from that table.

“You really suck, Yeosang,” the tall man pouted— God, he looked so cute with a pout on his face.

“She’s working, Yunho. Don’t bother the poor thing. Let her pay her bills,” the other man, Yeosang, lectured Yunho.

A curious smile emerged on your face. Were they talking about you, perhaps?

“If we leave her a big enough tip, then she could leave work early, and everything would be fine!”

“At the risk of her losing her job! It’s one thing to just want to sleep with her, but another if you’re willing to sabotage her life just to get some pussy tonight. Also, knowing you, you’re going to fucking murder her because you’re so big and she’s so small.”

There was only one short girl on your team, and that was you. So, yes, they had to be talking about you. Killing the rest of your cigarette, you sprayed breath freshener in your mouth and smoothed out your hair before walking around the corner and sashaying back into the establishment, making sure you gave Yunho a good view. Right before you went back inside, you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him briefly, leaving him with a rock-hard boner.

“Fuck…” you barely heard Yunho groan as he desperately tried to calm himself down.

A smirk lingered on your face knowing that you got the man all sorts of hot and bothered. Good.

“So, Y/N, what’s it like to be a bottle girl?” Seonghwa asked you.

It calmed down in the establishment quite a lot after about an hour, allowing you to dedicate your time to the table that you were most excited to serve. You stood with them, the eight men towering over you. Originally, that would intimidate you, but given the information you knew about the tallest man of the group crushing hard on you, the height disparity didn’t bother you in the slightest.

“I mean, you can really see for yourself,” you responded with a smile. “It’s like being a stripper at times, but it definitely beats being a stripper since I don’t have to give lap dances to wasted men. I just serve them alcohol.”

“So you used to be a stripper?” San smirked— not at you, though; he was just trying to get a rise out of Yunho.

“Yeah, I did that for a couple of years before moving to the city and getting this job.”

“That’s so fucking sexy of you, Y/N,” Mingi, who was standing closest to you, stood the tiniest bit closer and ran his finger along your arm. You could see Yunho’s jaw clench when he saw what Mingi did to you.

With an exasperated smile, you grabbed Mingi’s hand and pushed it away while saying, “Buddy, you can look, but you can’t touch.”

“Not even if I tip you well?”

“She just said she’s not a stripper anymore, Mankgi,” Hongjoong swatted the back of the boy’s head. “Don’t do something stupid.”

You saw Yunho’s jaw relax, nearly making you laugh. Yunho was definitely subtle with his reactions, but you were keeping such a close eye on him that every single action and reaction of his did not go missed by you. He was such a cutie, and you were here for it.

“So, Y/N, what time do you have to stay and work until?” Yeosang, who seemed to be wingman-ing Yunho, asked you.

“We close at 3 AM, so 4 AM,” you sighed. “Gotta enter the tips and help the busboys clean up.”

“You would think as a sexy bottle girl, you wouldn’t have to do menial labor like that,” Wooyoung mused.

“We’re still employees,” you laughed. Then, bringing your voice down, you said, “But I like helping because sometimes we find loose bills around the venue. Free money.”

The place was practically empty by the time 3 AM rolled around. You realized that as you talked to the eight men, you talked to all of them except the man that you were actually interested in. Bummer. You couldn’t expect him to wait for you after work, so when they all left for the night, a light sigh left your lips, and you half-heartedly finished your work for the night.

Yet, at 4 AM, you left the building to see Yunho standing outside. It was a little chilly out, so you could see his breath in the air as he exhaled and looked up at the sky. He looked so sexy standing there with his hands in his pockets, his jawline and neck accentuated in the city lights as he held his head up high.

Of course Yunho was going to wait for you. You weren’t as subtle as you’d like to think— he noticed your sly looks in his direction when you were talking to his table, and he knew that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. Fuck, you were so perfect for him, and he told himself he would do anything if he got to spend the rest of the night with you, even if that meant waiting outside for you for an hour. At least that gave him time to sober up slightly more (not that he had much to drink in the first place).

“Yunho, right?” you asked as you approached the man.

“Oh! Y/N,” Yunho, surprised, turned around to face you, a light blush appearing on his face. “H-hi…”

“Hey.”

Yunho was speechless for a split moment— you weren’t in your work clothes anymore, and you definitely had a lot more on than before, but your long coat just accentuated your short stature, making the man thirst for you even more. Your hair tumbled around lightly as the wind pushed it back, revealing the playful glimmer in your eyes. Yunho was smitten. Completely and utterly smitten.

“Sorry, I know it must be creepy for a man to be waiting for you after work— I’m sure it happens all the time, and I don’t mean to be one of those men, but I just—”

Yunho, rambling out of sheer nervousness, cut himself off when you approached him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. You gave him a half-flirty, half-appreciative smile as you looked at him. You didn’t need to utter a word for Yunho to feel reassured that the feelings were mutual. Thank God.

“Would you like to go somewhere with me?” you asked him, your voice barely audible over the rushing wind.

Yunho couldn’t keep his hands off you. In the car ride to the hotel, he had his large hand on your thigh, rubbing slowly and sensually, but not going further than that. And then, in the elevator, he pinned you against the wall and grabbed the back of your head, immediately pulling you in for a rough kiss. You clutched and grabbed at his forearms as he fully overtook you, his lips completely devouring yours. He only got more rough from there when he shoved his hand down the waistband of your pants and panties, his fingers stroking your dripping folds.

“Yun— Ah! Yunho, w-wait,” you moaned, your words muffled against his lips.

“What do you mean “wait”, doll? You’re so fucking wet for me,” Yunho teased as he murmured against your lips. “I think you’re just as impatient as I am.”

“M-my legs,” you whimpered before inhaling sharply. “If you don’t wait, I won’t be able to stand…”

“If that’s the case,” Yunho growled before withdrawing his hand so he could lift you, his large hands grabbing and squeezing your ass as he suspended you in the air.

You laced your fingers through his hair and held tightly as you brought your lips to his once more, his tongue diving deep into your mouth as he resumed eating you alive. The elevator doors opened, and you for sure thought he was going to let you down, but instead, he continued to carry you down the hall, his lips still locked in a frenzy with yours. Soft moans and sighs left the two of you as you got to the room. Yunho unlocked the room and immediately rushed inside so he could pin you on the bed and rip your clothes off you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” Yunho murmured as he gazed at your slick, his tongue sensually running along his lower lip. “Gimme a taste, why don’t you?”

You nodded shyly. Yunho’s hands went under your thighs and pushed your legs up, his tongue meeting your cunt. You cried out in pleasure when you felt his tongue slither inside you, his nose brushing against your clit as he ate you out. It was when Yunho lifted you up while continuing lick and slurp up your arousal fluid did you yelp, the man holding you up in the air as his tongue violated you. You held onto the roots of his hair and gripped for dear life, the fear of you falling sending blood rushing through your body but also filling you with excitement.

Before you could cum, Yunho let you down. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt and looked down at your tiny, helpless body, a smirk forming on his face as thought about you looking torn to shreds because of his monster cock. You watched him with trembling eyes as the man slowly stripped down for you, your eyes widening as you saw his firm cock trembling and waiting to burst forth from his underwear.

“Y-yunho… I— I don’t think you’re going to fit,” you said with slight fear.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Yunho responded nonchalantly as he revealed his massive cock and tapped your waist lightly, his cock the literal length of your stomach.

Rolling on a condom that he had taken out from his wallet moments prior, Yunho got on the bed and rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds. You were terrified that he was going to just push his way right through you, but instead, Yunho merely pushed the head into your cunt, then pulled out. He did this several times, frustration starting to build inside you as he teased the everloving shit out of you.

“For someone who was so afraid, you seem to want me inside you,” Yunho chuckled.

“Fu-uck! Yunho, do something, please,” you begged him, the fire in your loins burning a hole within you.

“Alright. Just relax for me, okay?” Yunho said, his voice hushed and calm as he caressed your face.

You nodded and did your best to relax, your head pushing into his hand as he finally pushed more than just the tip into you. You felt him fill you up, and you felt like he was tearing you as his cock spread you wider than you had ever been spread. You reached for his arms and held on tightly as he pressed his hands onto the bed right above your shoulders, a groan rumbling in the back of his throat.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Yunho grunted. “Loosen up.”

You inhaled and exhaled deeply, Yunho shoving his length all the way inside you when you exhaled. You flung your head back and cried loudly as you felt his cock throb uncontrollably inside you, his cock brushing against your cervix. Yunho remained in place as he let out an erotic sigh while you, on the other hand, were panting and trying desperately to blink the stars out of your vision.

“See,” Yunho told you, a cocky smile on his face. “I do fit.”

“Mmmhmmm,” you couldn’t even formulate words— all the man did was push his cock in you, and you already felt like you were fucked out simply because of how much he filled you up.

He only thrusted into you a singular time, but your entire body lurched and moved backwards with said thrust. The sound of his waist hitting your ass echoed loudly in the room, and the sound only got more repetitive as he began to properly move. His cock was so massive that you felt like he was going to pull out your insides.

“Doll, you feel so fucking good,” Yunho grunted out, his head dropping down to your neck. “So fucking good. You’re so tight and small— Fuck!”

Yunho flipped the two of you so that he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him. When you sat all the way down, you felt like his cock shot straight through you, hitting your cervix with such force that you came immediately. You cried loudly as you creamed and clenched, making the man flinch and nearly cum himself.

“Shit, don’t go squeezing me like that,” Yunho grunted with a little chuckle. “You nearly snapped my cock off.”

“Do-Don’t act like you— Hnngh— Didn’t like that,” you panted out, little groans leaving you as you continued to ride his fat cock.

Yunho smirked. He propped himself up on his elbows and thrust into you at an angle that made you completely fall apart, your hands resting on his abs to keep you steady. You could barely keep your hands in place, though, because he brought his lips to your breast and started sucking hard, his mouth completely overtaking your nipple. You entire body trembled when you felt his tongue flick and swirl around your nipple, and it certainly did not help that he sucked super hard on your breast as if he was trying to get something out of it. Your toes curled as he switched from one to the other, and his waist refused to let up as he thrust powerfully from underneath you.

“‘m c-cumming again!” you moaned loudly as your cunt convulsed, making you squirt all over Yunho’s waist.

He, however, refused to give you a break. Your head was still in the cloud when he sat up entirely and moved so that he was kneeling and you were still sitting on his cock, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into you continuously. You clung to him and moaned loudly as his thrusts did not slow down in the slightest. He continued to drill into you over and over again, his force so immense that he ended up pinning you down on the bed again.

His cock kept rubbing along your G-spot and hitting your cervix, and the louder you cried, the more intense that feeling got. You could barely see through bleary, teary eyes that his eyes were dark and his jaw was tense as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You’re tightening up again, doll— are you gonna cum again?” Yunho could barely laugh as he groaned his question.

“Ye-es, I’m c-close,” you whined. “I’m gonna—”

Yunho interrupted you with a kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the blood rushing to your ears as you barely heard him say, “Wait for me. I’m al-almost there— Shit!”

Suddenly pulling out, Yunho removed the condom and came all over you, his seed spreading from your chest all the way down to your convulsing pussy as you, too, came. Yunho sat back on his heels and jerked himself off as more of his hot cum spurt out and landed on your skin.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed as you flung your head back into the sheets, your hands covering your face. “That was insane.”

“In a good or bad way?” Yunho asked with a slight laugh, his body hovering over yours as he brought himself to look at your fucked out face.

“Good— That was too fucking good, Yunho,” you sighed out. “Too fucking good…”

“I’d say let’s go again, but I’m afraid I’ve only got the one condom,” he whispered.

“…Are you clean?”

“Yes, are you?”

You nodded then reached for his neck, pulling him into your embrace. Your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “Then I don’t see why we can’t go again.”

Yunho shivered, and his cock firmed up almost immediately. He grabbed you and flipped you over so that you were on your hands and knees, his cock immediately rubbing along your ass crack.

“You’re going to regret saying that to me, doll.”

#Spotify #ateez #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #reader x yunho #ateez yunho #jeong yunho ateez #yunho ateez #jeong yunho smut #ateez jeong yunho #broatz

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luveline · 9 days

Note

Hi jadeeeee I have a request for coworker James! Another man whether it’s at work or somewhere else starts hitting on reader and James get jealous and realizes he hates seeing her with other guys

ty for requesting 💌 fem

It’s another sunny day at the office, but today is the day the vending machine men come in and fill them, so it’s not all bad. The doors and windows are wide open, the air is fresh and clean.

“It’s too hot,” Remus complains without any real passion.

“It’s not that bad,” Sirius says, though he raises his hand to begin fanning Remus anyhow. “It feels hotter than it is because of the humidity.”

“I feel amazing,” James says. He gives you a nudge with his shoe, his hair tickling his neck as he leans back in his chair. “It’s not that hot, is it?”

“It’s boiling,” you say.

You were never going to agree with him. It could be sub zero and you’d tell him you were on fire. James rolls his eyes at you and continues a rather lavish existence of sun, breeze, and cold grapes, their crisp insides popping between his teeth.

“Sorry,” you say.

James lifts his head.

“That’s okay,” Jordan says, to James’ immediate affront. There’s no need for the man in charge of maintaining the vending machine to be talking to you in that tone. It’s bordering too sweet.

“I’m always in your way,” you laugh.

“You? In my way? Never.”

You turn to Remus with an obvious expression. Is he flirting with me? it says.

Remus looks at James —what the fuck?— before he gives you a tentative back and forth of his head, weighing it up. He shrugs.

James shakes his head resolutely.

You give them both the silent version of I understand and settle down in your seat again. The vending machine guy (what’s his name again? James can’t remember) pops open the front cover of the machine and takes out the change box. Clearly, he doesn’t categorise you or the boys as a risk of burglary.

“So,” Jordan says, “how was your weekend? Did you do much?”

“In this weather?” you ask with light-humoured sarcasm. “I went on a couple of walks, nothing huge. How about you?”

“Went to a couple of matches.”

“Rugby or football?”

“Rugby, always.”

James feels the pressure of his teeth clenching at the back of his head. “Do you play, mate?” he asks.

Jordan looks at him in surprise. “No, we just watch. It’s an excuse to have a pint before five.”

You break two slices of your clementine away from each other. James doesn’t know why, but your gaze is on him, and that’s where he wants it. “Day drinker?” he asks sympathetically.

“James,” Sirius says, laughing. “Grow up.”

“Sometimes,” Jordan says. He finishes reinstalling the change holder and starts to push snacks and drinks onto the vending machine shelves. “Gotta have a little bit of fun every now and then, right?”

He emphasises to you.

You give a shy smile. “Right.”

Jordan finishes his job and wishes everyone goodbye quickly after that. You chew your clementine, your finger looped under your bracelet, tugging slowly round and around. He fucked that up for you, didn’t he? You couldn’t get very far with him poking holes at poor Jordan, but… you’d been smiling at him nicely. You’re allowed to smile at whoever you want to, of course you are, so why did James act like that?

“Sorry,” he says.

You slide your thumb between slices of clementine. “To me?” you ask from the corner of your mouth. “For what?”

Sirius and Remus laugh at the same time.

James ignores them. “I was mean to him. How are you ever gonna get a date if I bully the vending machine guy?”

“You think I can’t get a date?” you ask.

“No.” He grimaces. “No, just, he’s a dickhead.”

“As opposed to who? You?” you ask.

James is pretty sure his vision goes white. He hates seeing you with other boys, but this isn’t where he wanted the conversation to go. He doesn’t wanna be your boyfriend. He just hates seeing you happy with other people.

Oh, god, he thinks. That’s horrible.

“I think you can do a whole lot better than Jacob the vending machine guy.”

“Jordan,” you correct, laughing. You don’t bring him up on avoiding your real question, perhaps you don’t notice. You just laugh with Remus and pass James a piece of your clementine. “Vending machines are an honest living. Don’t be so classist.”

“You’re classist,” he rebukes weakly. He ignores Sirius’ knowing gaze to offer you his punnet of grapes. “Horrible woman.”

“Get it together, Potter.”

James doesn’t know what to say to you after that, so he says nothing at all. Your clementine is sweet on his tongue.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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eiightysixbaby · 6 months

Text

under the mistletoe

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader (college au)

2.6k

summary: a holiday party, a sweet gift exchange, and an even sweeter kiss

cw: mentions of alcohol, v brief mentions of weed smoking, fluff

“If Steve and Chrissy kiss one more time under that mistletoe, I’m gonna barf,” Eddie mumbles around his glass of eggnog.

“Oh, come on, I think it’s sweet,” Robin says, elbowing him in the side. “Stop being such a downer.”

You look in the direction of the couple under scrutiny, watching as Chrissy perches herself on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Steve’s waiting mouth. It is sweet, sickeningly so, if you’re honest. Maybe that’s where Eddie’s coming from…

“I’m not being a downer, I just don’t think we should all have to be subjected to them sucking face every five minutes,” Eddie sneers at her, huffing when she rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re just jealous you’re not getting any, Munson,” Robin sing-songs, walking away to refill her drink.

This was your first time experiencing one of Steve’s Christmas parties. Last year, you spent the holiday miserably sick in your and Robin’s shared apartment. You’d met the group during your first year of college, making fast friends and fitting right in with them. Robin and Eddie knew Steve from their shared hometown growing up, and they’d told you countless stories of all of the parties he used to throw in high school.

You’re just thankful that now, the parties are a little more scaled-back. A lot less drinking-till-you-puke and a lot more quality time with people you actually care about.

“So, you having fun at your first official Harrington holiday party?” Eddie asks you, looking casually over at you with his deep brown eyes.

“Yeah,” you smile. “It’s fun. I needed this after all the stress from finals. And it beats having the flu like last year,” you grimace, heart skipping a beat when Eddie laughs.

“Okay, you got me. Watching Steve and Chrissy make out might be bad, but it’s not as bad as the flu.”

You giggle, feeling your cheeks heat when he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You’d be a filthy liar if you said you didn’t have a thing for Eddie. The moment you met him he’d captured your full attention, with his boisterous personality and his pretty eyes. His wild curly hair and his stellar smile. Everything about him had you giddy like a teenager, but you hadn’t voiced this to anyone — too scared that your feelings would disrupt, well, everything.

Plus, Eddie definitely didn’t like you like that. You’ve heard some of his hookup stories, he wouldn’t want to settle down and start a relationship with you. You’re just a friend to him, and that’s fine.

But with the way he’s looking at you right now, you could almost be convinced otherwise…

The little moment is gone before it really even started, Nancy coming over to the two of you and hurrying you into the living room to do the gift exchange. You’d decided to do a Secret Santa, drawing names and keeping your chosen person a secret until it was time for the unwrapping.

Much to your excitement, you’d pulled Eddie’s name. You’d debated over what to get him for as long as you could get away with before you finally came up with the perfect idea. Now that it’s almost time for him to open it, you find yourself getting nervous to see his reaction.

Everyone sits in a circle in the living room, taking up all of the furniture as well as the floor. You take one end of the sofa, and Eddie claims the chair closest to you. You watch as Nancy places all of the wrapped boxes and sparkly gift bags in the center of the group, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Eddie chose to sit by you.

“So, whose name did you get?” he leans over and whispers to you, those big doe eyes full of mischief.

“Well what fun would it be to spoil it now?” you counter, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes and sighs exaggeratedly.

Your attention is brought back to the group as Steve offers to go first, picking up his gift and handing it over to Jonathan. Jonathan shyly accepts it, smiling as he tears the tissue paper out of the bag to reveal its contents. He pulls out a few cassette tapes of his favorite artists, as well as a new strap for his camera.

“Dude, these are awesome!” he says, and you watch as Steve smiles proudly. “Thank you so much,” the shaggy-headed boy continues, leaning over to accept Steve’s fist bump.

“No problem, man. I know you were complaining about your current camera strap getting all worn. The cassettes were an obvious choice,” Steve jokes.

The room is full of smiles and laughs as the gift-giving continues. Jonathan gives his gift to Chrissy, Chrissy had drawn your name and gives hers to you — a beautiful charm bracelet and a cozy blanket you’d seen at the mall not long ago and wanted terribly.

That means you’re up next. Your hands feel clammy and nervous butterflies flutter in your stomach as you grab your gifts from the floor. Angling yourself in Eddie’s direction, you hand him the presents with a timid smile.

“For me!?” he asks, holding a hand up to his heart. “How’d I get so lucky?”

You feel your face flush, unable to maintain eye contact as your jitters get the best of you. You just hope he likes it. You hope it’s not too much.

Eddie’s careful hands unwrap the first present of the two, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor. The small box is exposed, and you feel like you might pass out as he takes the lid off. His jaw drops open, his head snapping up to look at you and then look back down at the contents of the container once more.

“What is it!?” Nancy asks, craning her neck from her seat to try and catch a glimpse.

“Custom guitar picks. For Corroded Coffin,” Eddie says, in awe as he just stares at them.

The picks were a red and black marbled pattern, with CC printed onto them on one side, and an image of a bat flying on the opposite side. You know how important his band is to him, how often he stays up till the asscrack of dawn practicing guitar, and so it felt like the perfect thing to get.

You wait with baited-breath as he continues looking them over, picking them up and marveling at them as if they aren’t just pieces of plastic at the end of the day.

“These are…. I don’t even know what to say. These are so fucking sweet,” he says, meeting your eyes.

“Don’t forget to open the second one,” you say, trying to bite back a smile.

He just smiles, shaking his head as he goes to pick up the second present. Reaching carefully inside of the big, sparkly red bag, he pulls out a vinyl record. Not just any record, though. It’s a copy of Master of Puppets, signed by every member of Metallica. Eddie’s favorite band. You’d scoured the internet for a legitimate and somewhat-affordable copy, completely scoring on this one. A good chunk of the money you’d made from your campus job went towards it, but it was more than worth it.

“No fucking way!” he shouts when he clocks the signatures scrawled out in marker. He flips the record around to show the room, everyone erupting in a chorus of “holy shit!” and “oh my god”.

He’s out of his seat in an instant, encouraging you to stand with him. He squeezes you in an impossibly tight hug, his arms so secure around you.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” he says, right against your ear. He pulls back a little, looking you right in the eyes. “Thank you so fucking much. What the hell,” he laughs, his teeth fully on display and the dimples coming out in his cheeks.

“Damn. She’s the best gift giver of us all. I think we might as well just call off Secret Santa for next year, no one’s topping that,” Steve says, getting a nod from Robin.

Eddie still hasn’t fully let you go, and it’s only when you become excruciatingly aware of all of the eyes on you that you pull away from his touch.

“Okay. So, Eddie, you’re next?” you say shakily, trying to gain your composure back. The boy stares at you just a second too long for you not to overthink it, before he’s nodding along.

“Yeah, alright,” he says, reaching for his gift.

The remainder of the gifts are exchanged rather quickly, but you really couldn’t tell anyone what they were if you’d had a gun to your head. All you could think about was the way Eddie hugged you. The look in his eyes when he opened both gifts. His eyes watching you intently from that moment on.

You want to buy him gifts like that all of the time, want to make him smile like that all of the time.

Chrissy and Steve cozy up on the loveseat, wrapped in each other as Christmas music plays softly. Jonathan and Argyle sit by the window, smoking from the new bowl the latter had been gifted by Robin. (That was the only gift you’d actually paid attention to as it was given, because Argyle literally cried). Eddie was relaxing in his chair, sipping another glass of spiked nog.

Robin and Nancy had pulled you into the kitchen as soon as they could, talking in whispers.

“Okay, so what was that? You got Eddie, like, the best gift ever.” Robin says, her eyes bulging at the end of the sentence.

“Yeah, I mean, that record had to have cost a fortune. And the custom picks!?” Nancy prods.

“Can I not just get my friend a nice gift?” you counter, your hand rubbing the back of your neck.

“Something’s up. I always know when something’s up,” Nancy says, her small mouth pursing in thought.

She’s right. She always knows. You don’t stand a chance lying to them — especially not both of them, together.

“Okay, fine! So maybe I have a little thing for Eddie…” you say. “But he definitely doesn’t like me like that! I just… wanted to get him something nice. It made me feel good,” you add, quick to defend yourself.

“I knew it!” Robin says, a little too loud, Nancy and you hurrying to shush her. “I knew it,” she says again, whispering this time.

“Just pleeaaase don’t tell him, okay? I don’t need this getting out—”

“Okay, babe, have you ever considered that he might like you too?” Robin interrupts, and Nancy nods.

“I— I don’t know! He doesn’t seem like the type to want a relationship, and… I don’t know!” you stumble, realizing you aren’t sure if you have a valid reason to confidently claim that he doesn’t like you.

The truth is, you just don’t know. And the unknown is terrifying.

“Why don’t you ask him out?” Nancy asks. “You know Eddie’s a sweetheart. I’m sure he’d love to go on a date with you,” she says, and you chew on your lip in indecision.

“I don’t know, you guys…” you mumble, nervously playing with your hair.

“Just, think about it?” Robin asks, just as the curly-headed man in question strolls leisurely into the kitchen.

“What are we thinking about?” he noses his way into the conversation, grabbing a few cookies off of a tray.

“Uh, nothing important,” you lie, giving him the most convincingly casual smile you can muster.

He bites into his cookie, leaning casually against the table. His dark eyes don’t leave you. Bringing an icing-covered finger to his mouth, he sucks the sugary substance off, making you flustered for the millionth time tonight.

Think about it, Robin said. You’re definitely thinking about it.

“Hey, um, could I talk to you alone, for a sec?” he asks you, bringing you back to earth.

“Oh! Y-yeah, sure,” you say, following him out of the kitchen. You chance a quick glance back at the girls, both of whom give you a thumbs up and an encouraging nod.

Eddie rounds the corner from the kitchen, standing in the entryway to the apartment. You’re just out of earshot of anyone else, and you’re nervous for what he’s about to say. You lean against the wall, his taller frame almost caging you in.

“Listen. I just want you to know how much I appreciate the gifts you got me. You didn’t have to do that,” he says sincerely. “No one’s ever gotten me a gift that nice before, besides for when Wayne got me my guitar,” he says, laughing lightly. “I just… thank you. I can’t thank you enough, actually.”

“I wanted to do it. You don’t even need to thank me. I’m just glad you like them, and you don’t think it’s too much,” you admit, glancing down at your feet.

“They’re perfect,” he says earnestly, getting you to look back up at him. “You’re… perfect," he breathes, saying it like it's a sigh of relief. Like it’s long overdue.

His eyes are so soft and sincere, his lips plump and pink as his tongue pokes out to wet them. His cheeks are tinged with the slightest bit of red, either from nerves or from the alcohol. You find yourself lost in him, your lips parting slightly as you both stand in silence.

Something above his head catches your attention, after a moment, and you look further up. You laugh in spite of yourself, making him look up, too.

Right above both of you, hanging from the arch in the ceiling, is mistletoe. The same mistletoe Eddie had been complaining about earlier. He starts laughing too, and then the both of you are stood there giggling like schoolchildren at the situation you find yourselves in.

When he’s regained composure, and your belly-laughs have subsided to a shy smile, you meet his eyes again. He steps ever-so-slightly closer to you, regarding you carefully down the bridge of his nose. There’s a playful look on his face, and one of his hands reaches out to gently rest on your waist.

“Since we’re here… should we..?” he starts, inching even closer.

“Yeah, we should,” you murmur, pushing up on your toes to meet him as he starts leaning down.

Your eyes flutter shut, your noses brushing together before your lips barely graze his. His warm breath fans your face, and then his lips are pressed fully on yours. You’re drinking him in, letting your mouths move softly together as you press your body against his. He smells like cinnamon and spice, tastes like the liquor from his drink, and you can’t get enough.

He’s pulling away too soon, reaching his hands up to cup your face. You never want him to let go, never want to go back to the reality you were living in before you’d kissed him, and the look on his face tells you he might be feeling the same.

“Wow,” Steve says from his spot on the couch, reminding both you and Eddie that you aren’t the only ones here.

“Awww you guys are so cute!” Chrissy coos, making you bite your lip in slight embarrassment.

Nancy and Robin high-five nonchalantly, before looking at you with huge smiles. Eddie’s arm wraps around you, pulling you into his side. You feel like a million bucks with him so close to you.

“You guys mind if we get out of here?” he says to the room. “I think we have a lot to catch up on,” he adds, glancing down at you with a wink.

You’d never been so happy to leave a party in your life. And maybe you didn’t even make it out of the parking lot of Steve’s complex before Eddie’s hands were all over you, but that’s your business.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 5 months

Note

PLEASEEE CAN YOU DO A TOM BLYTH X ACTRESS ASMR FIC. IDK IF YOUVE EVER SEEN THE W MAGAZINE INTERVIEWS WITH CELEBRITIES DOING ASMR BUT ID LOVE TO READ ONE OF TOM AND THE READER BEING ALL CUTE AND WHOLESOME WHILE DOING ASMR AND TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

ASMR chaos || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

A/n: you guys continue to blow my mind with the scenarios and prompts you give me 😃 keep em coming!

Warnings: pure fluff!

Wc: 1,010

Divider by @pommecita

Walking into the room, you throw Tom an interested look as the two of you look at the microphones on the the table. As we settled into our seats, the interviewer, a vibrant woman named Lisa, welcomed us with a warm smile. “Today, we’re going to do something a bit different, something fun. Have either of you tried ASMR?” she asked.

“No, we haven’t,” You and Tom exchanged playful glances, both secretly wondering what you had gotten yourselves into. “Well, this will be a first for the both of you then!” Lisa exclaimed. “Absolutely, let’s do it,” Tom replied with a grin.

“I don’t think we’re gonna do that well babe, we’re both loud people,” You squeeze Tom’s arm as he laughs, putting on his headsets as you follow suit.

“Hey guys,” you gently murmur into the microphone, a playful glint in your eyes. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n” Tom shoots you a sidelong glance, a charming smile gracing his lips. "And I'm Tom Blyth," he adds with a hushed tone, his voice carrying a hint of mischief.

“And today-“ You move to the next microphone but end up bumping into it creating a loud noise. You cringe at the sharp noise, while Tom, caught off guard, tries to stifle a laugh, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Sorry,” You sheepishly smile, dimples forming on your cheeks, “Today we’ll be doing A-” Tom smoothly moved towards the microphone, his voice flowing seamlessly, "S-" you gracefully took your place at the other mic, "M-" a shared moment of anticipation, "R," Tom concluded, and with satisfied glances, you both silently exchanged a high-five.

Your first challenge was the classic apple crunch. Tom took the lead, picking up a shiny red apple. He leaned into the microphone, giving it a thoughtful look before taking a bite. The crisp sound echoed in the studio, and a spontaneous giggle escaped you at the absurdity of the situation.

"Now, your turn," Tom said, handing you the apple with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You took a deep breath, trying to maintain composure. As your teeth sunk into the apple, the studio filled with a satisfying series of crunches.

Biggest mistake you made was looking at Tom, mid bite. You automatically screw your eyes shut as you and Tom lose it, having to turn away from the mics as you let out hearty chuckles.

"Don't look at me!" You whisper yell at Tom in a joking matter as he wipes the tears from his eyes, "Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help myself," he quietly apologies as you smack his arm gently. The studio was filled not only with the sound of apple crunches but also the infectious sound of both your laughs.

You were then passed a can of coke. Tapping on it with you manicured nails, you move it from microphone to microphone as Tom watches amused. "I'm so bad at opening cans with nails on-" You start but Tom has already taken it, opening it with a satisfying pop near the microphone.

The sound of it fizzing reached you ears as you purse your lips at the sound of it. You take the can back and lean towards your microphone, Tom's hands moving to tuck the stray pieces of hair that had fallen.

You try to contain your laughter as you bring the can up to your lips, sipping it. The noise was surprisingly loud in your earphones as you start quietly laughing. You took another sip, deliberately prolonging the sound for comedic effect, the noise was a combination of tiny slurps and the distinctive hiss of carbonation.

"Here, you try," you pass the can to Tom who takes it with a playful grin. He takes measured sips of it as you slightly squirm in your seat at the loud sound of it in your earphones. You watch as he takes large sips of it.

"I shouldn't have taken too many sips," he groans, setting the can down as a mischievous grin lights up your face as he adds, "I feel like burping now" he places a hand on his stomach.

"is burping considered satisfying in asmr though?" you quip, glancing at the camera crew who try to conceal their amusement. Your eyes return to Tom. "I don't know, I guess we'll find out won't we?" He chuckles, moving to the microphone.

You absolutely lost it as the sound of Tom's burp reaches your ear causing you to rip out your earphones, leaning over in your seat as you laugh out loud. Tom couldn't help but laugh at your reaction as he smacks his knee, creating an even louder sound that fueled both of your laughter.

"I think we've reached peak asmr chaos," Tom manages to say as you compose yourself, sitting up in your seat, "I'd like to formally apologise to everyone watching this-" you say in between your laugh as Tom nudges you playfully.

Your laughter became a recurring theme throughout the interview, making it clear that the genuine camaraderie between Tom and you extended beyond the screen.

A plate of watermelon was then passed to the both of you. Tom, ever the showman, took a big, theatrical bite, causing droplets of juice to splatter across the table causing your eyes to widen as you were mid-bite.

You silently laugh, throwing your head back, "We're so bad at this," Tom shakes his head with a light laugh, wiping a dribble of watermelon juice from his chin.

The next thing the two of you were handed was a bowl of noodles. "Oh no," You whisper, biting your thumb as you eye the crew member placing it in front of the two of you, including two forks.

"I just know this isn't going to end very well," you predicted, taking a fork and loading up a substantial bite of noodles. Tom grinned as he did the same.

Brushing your hair back, you leaned toward the microphone. As the fork approached your mouth, you felt Tom's intense gaze on you. "Don't even look at me," you playfully warned him, your eyes fixed ahead. Tom chuckled, fully aware that locking eyes would trigger another laughing fit.

Chewing on the noodles, you couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan at the flavor. Glancing at Tom, you saw him slurping a noodle, prompting you to cover your mouth to stifle laughter.

Tom slowly opens the packet of chips, the sound filling your ears. He passes you a chip as you both place it in your mouth, the crunch satisfying the both of you.

Your chewing comes to a stop as your eyes slightly widen at the familiar tingling sensation in the back of your throat. You squeeze Tom's arm as he gives you a puzzled look.

You then look at the chip packet, it was chili flavoured. "Oh," Tom whispers, knowing your spice tolerance was incredibly low. "Can I have water please," you start fanning yourself as Tom lets out a chuckle, quickly offering you his bottle of water as you gratefully take it.

You let out a satisfied sigh, your head leaned on Tom's shoulder. "I'm so bad with spice," you reveal, letting out a small giggle as the interview came to an end.

"Well that's it from us," Tom whispers in the microphone, "I hope you guys enjoyed this chaotic interview, I hope it was somewhat satisfying?" You sheepishly grin at the camera as Tom chuckles.

1K notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 8 months

Text

Jealous*

Summary: The fourth part to 404*

The one where Harry's even more annoying when he's jealous.

But he's kind of cute, too.

Word Count: 5.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)

“Head back, tongue out.”

Quickly shifting onto your knees, you glance up at the man before you. Watching eagerly as Harry’s large hand strokes the hardened cock that lingers near your lips.

His other palm reaches out for your neck, slowly sliding up into your hair before tugging you back even further. “Like this,” he murmurs, only satiated when you oblige. “Good girl. Show me your tongue, Tink. Come on, not gonna ask you again.”

Quickly, you rush to obey, presenting it to him willingly as you scoot closer and silently plead for his offering.

He gives you a rare, pleased smile that makes your insides jump before he brings his cock closer to your mouth, tapping it twice. “Gonna swallow it all, yeah? Like a good little cumslut?”

Nodding fervently, your lashes flutter in a somewhat desperate attempt to coax him closer to release.

To this, he exhales an amused breath, smirk growing until you see that familiar and infuriatingly charming dimple. “You’re a lot less annoying when you’re desperate, you know that?”

You swat at his thigh. “Shut up and cum in my mouth already.”

“Eager, are we?”

“The fuck do you think? Just do it, come on.”

“See, there you go again. Don’t know how to romance a guy, do you?”

“And why would I ever want to romance you?”

He laughs and sweeps the tip of his cock along your bottom lip. “Because deep down…you like me. Don’t you, Princess?”

And before you can reply with another quippy retort, he’s sliding himself along your tongue, and filling your mouth completely.

It doesn’t take long for that warm, salty tang to go slipping down your throat. Effortlessly coating your taste buds as Harry tightens his grip on your head and releases a rather lascivious groan.

“Fuck…there you go, that’s a good girl,” he murmurs, using his other hand to brace himself against the wall to keep upright. “Take it…fucking take it, Tink, good. Feel so fucking good, don’t you? Such a tight little mouth, yeah?”

He’s babbling, a string of nonsense and praises falling from his tongue, but you revel in it. Indulge in the way you’re the only one on his mind, the only one to make him fall apart so quickly.

And you imagine you’d both like to stay here in the lobby coat closet for at least a few more minutes (or a few more rounds), but before you can entertain the idea, your phone is going off.

The shrill alarm cuts the moment in two, slicing it right down the middle as you pop off his cock and reach over to turn it off.

In turn, Harry blinks, breathing still a tad ragged as he steps back. “What…what is that for?”

“Oh, I have a meeting with Mr. Prescott in five.” You straighten up onto your feet and swipe the back of your wrist across your mouth. “This was fun, though. Thanks.”

Harry blinks. “Wow. Way to dine and dash.”

“Funny,” you snort as you head for the door. “Anyway, I think I’ll be good for a while, so…no need to keep dragging me in here.”

“I didn’t drag you,” he argues with a huff while yanking his jeans back up. “I casually suggested it and you jumped at the opportunity.”

“Mm…wrong.”

“Mm…right. Face it, Princess, you can’t stop thinking about me.”

“Actually, I think about everybody but you,” you tell him. “Seriously, just the sound of your name kills my libido. It’s quite sad.”

His eyes roll. “Fucking go already, I have shit to do.”

“Fine, but you have to wait at least three minutes,” you remind him as you slip out into the hallway. “I mean it. Cassie almost saw us last time and I was mortified. So be less suspicious this time.”

“Come on, do you really think I want people to know we’re shagging?” he retorts, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall in wait. “Getting seen with you at the bar was already bad enough.”

“Yeah? Is that why you stuck your hand down my pants in front of everybody?”

“Okay, you know what—”

“No, I don’t. Bye,” you call before swinging the door shut.

Harry’s muffled grumbling follows you all the way to the elevator.

You can’t help but grin as you step inside and hit the button for the fifth floor, flashes of his hands and practiced fingers flooding the forefront of your mind.

You might still hate him, but you suppose you don’t mind his company as much anymore. He’s not as irritating as he was when you first started this little arrangement, and you’ve noticed his technique has gotten better. He’s always been good, but recently he seems to be trying incredibly hard to make each time the best.

Not that you’d dare complain. After all, it’s not like you’ve really—

“Wait, hold the door!”

Quickly, you reach out and press your palm against the sliding entrance, keeping it inside the frame as the stranger swiftly slides through.

You watch as he gratefully slumps against the railing, seemingly out of breath as he nods his appreciation and allows you to release your hand.

“Thank you,” he exhales, head dropping back against the wall as the elevator takes off. “Thought I was gonna have to take the stairs.”

“No problem,” you return before gesturing toward the buttons. “Which floor?”

“Fifth,” he answers, smiling when he notices it’s already been selected. “You, too?”

“Yeah, I work in the lab.”

Curious, the man straightens up. “No kidding. You’re one of the engineers?”

“Mhm. For about four years now.”

“No fucking way,” he replies, studying you with interest. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, actually. Pay is good, hours are better.”

“Ah, very nice,” he muses. “In that case, do you think you’d be able to show me to Prescott’s office?”

“Sure. I’m headed there now, actually.”

“Yeah?” His head tilts. “Wait, shit…you wouldn’t be working on the Keaton Project, would you?”

Surprised by his knowledge on your current work, you blink. “Uh…yes, actually. How did you…?”

“I’ve been hired to help with your development operations,” he tells you. “Just for a couple weeks, see where you’re at.”

“Oh, that’s good. Harry and I could use the help.”

The mystery man smirks. “Good. S’what I like to hear.”

With that, the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open, allowing you and the stranger to begin down the hall and toward the main office.

After a rather interesting discussion with Mr. Prescott, you learn a bit more about Lucas, your new project partner.

He’s incredibly smart and well spoken, he’s got some wonderful ideas for the website, and he’s absolutely going to drive Harry up the goddamn wall.

You’re practically giddy as you lead Lucas back to the lab to help him get set up. Already imagining the scowl on Harry’s face when he learns he’ll be sharing a space with someone else. Someone arguably much better suited for the position and with much fresher ideas.

Unfortunately, Harry has already left for the day by the time you return. And while you’re somewhat disappointed that you’ll have to wait on the introductions, you use the rest of the shift to get acquainted with Lucas.

Turns out, he’s delightful, and you laugh harder with him than you have anybody else in a long time. He’s rather flirty, too, you notice, but you don’t mind. It’s nice to have such forward attention and you revel in his sneaky smiles and playful remarks.

You leave the lab that afternoon with a large grin, laughing when he calls, “Goodbye, Duchess,” as you walk out the door.

Come Monday morning, Harry is in a foul mood. You notice it before he’s even set foot into the room, the exasperated expression on his face visible from the parking lot.

He walks differently when he’s upset, you realize. With his hunched shoulders, clenched fists, and heavy footsteps that echo through the halls.

Everyone within a hundred-foot radius takes notice, shooting him odd looks as he strides by, but he pays them no mind. Instead making a beeline for his corner of the room where you reside before throwing his things down with a huff.

“Morning, Sunshine,” you call, turning in your chair to watch while he slumps into his. “What the hell is going on with your hair? It looks…well, like shit.”

A venomous glare is shot through the dark frames of his glasses. “Blow me, Princess. I’m not in the fucking mood today.”

“I can see that,” you reply calmly, hiding a smirk behind the rim of your coffee mug. “Hope you’re at least a little nicer to the new guy.”

Harry’s frazzled and irritated shuffling stills. “What new guy?”

“The new guy,” you say, nodding toward Lucas who’s beginning to make his way through the lab. “Prescott told you, right? He’s working with us for the next couple of weeks on development operations.”

Harry’s attention follows the tall, lanky figure as he moves between the tables, a frown beginning to form. “What the fuck?” he scoffs quietly but full of repulsion. “I’m sorry, since when do we need a fucking babysitter?”

“He’s not a babysitter, Harold. He’s just extra help—”

“We don’t need extra help,” Harry bites back. “Okay, I had it covered—”

“Clearly, yeah. Is that why the simulation kept glitching—”

“It wasn’t glitching, the code was just off. But I had it handled—”

“Sure, yeah. Obviously. That’s why Prescott hired someone else—”

“Duchess,” comes a new addition to the conversation, forcing you and Harry to lean back as Lucas approaches. “Hey, listen. Thank you again for showing me where to set up my shit, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you return with a smile. “Seriously, anything we can help you with, just let us know.”

He nods. “Perfect, yeah. Most of it is just working on the HTML, but eventually I’d like your input on the file transfer.”

Peeved, Harry’s eyes flitter across the man’s face. “Right. And you are?”

“Lucas,” he replies brightly, offering you both a charming smile. “Yeah, sorry. Met Duchess here the other day on the elevator. You must be…Harry, right?”

Harry’s eyebrows begin to weave together, broad shoulders straightening up ever-so-slightly. “Why the fuck were you in our elevator?”

“Well, Duchess was showing me up to the lab," Lucas says, nodding his chin at you while you share a smirk. "Helped me set up, which was really sweet.”

You wave the compliment away while Harry slowly turns to you and subtly mouths, “Duchess?”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Yes. Well. Anyway, Harry and I are really excited about working with you. Aren’t we?”

Harry merely returns your stare with a glare of his own before gritting his teeth. “Fucking ecstatic.”

If Lucas picks up on the charged air between you, he doesn’t comment on it, instead grinning again as he steps back. “Perfect. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

You nod. “Absolutely. Oh, we’re still on for lunch, right?”

“Of course,” he calls before returning to the hallway, leaving you with a very displeased partner.

You blink.

“Lunch?” Harry repeats, almost incredulously. “You’re having fucking lunch with the babysitter now?”

You snort. “It’s lunch, not an orgy. Relax, Harold—”

“And what the fuck is with the degrading nickname?” he continues, nodding his chin in the direction Lucas disappeared to before nudging his glasses back up. “He sounds like a fucking twat.”

“For your information, Duchess means queen,” you tell him haughtily. “And I love it. It’s a lot nicer than anything you call me.”

“I call you the same fucking thing—”

“No, you call me Tinkerbell,” you correct. “And Princess. Which is nice. But Queen trumps Princess. Sorry.”

He makes another noise before spinning around in his seat, turning his back to you. “Fucking ridiculous. Fine, have your fucking tea parties and your fucking nicknames while I get some real shit done.”

“It’s not a tea party, it’s lunch—”

“Oh, my apologies, your Royal Fucking Highness.”

You smirk.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Got it stuck right up there. Poor thing had to go to the emergency room just to get it removed.”

Lucas laughs – a loud, infectious laugh – while glancing down at his plate with a shake of his head. “Shit. I bet he enjoyed that.”

“No. No, not at all,” you chuckle. “And he wouldn’t speak to me for about a week afterward. Honestly? It was the best week of my life.”

“I imagine.” He runs a long finger around the rim of his glass in thought. “So, he’s always been like that, then? Kind of…sullen? And moody?”

Smiling to yourself, you run through your memories of the brooding man you’ve known for years. Remembering the first day you met, and the way you instantly became enamored by those bright green eyes and chestnut curls.

“No,” you admit. “No, he used to be…fun. Nice. Shy, even.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was…I mean, he was nervous, I think. It was one of his first jobs out of university, and I think he just wanted to do a good job.”

“Makes sense,” Lucas replies. “From what I’ve seen, he’s quite good at what he does.”

“He is,” you agree, almost begrudgingly. “Always has been, which is really annoying.”

He smiles. “So, what happened? What made him switch?”

You release a heavy sigh and shrug your shoulder. “Honestly…I don’t know. There was a bit of a dark period. He stopped talking to people, stopped going out. Got a motorcycle of all things. And then he just…wasn’t the same.”

“And he never talked about it?”

You snort. “No, Harry doesn’t…talk. About personal things. At least not with me. And asking never gets me anywhere.”

A quiet pause settles over your small table before Lucas leans closer.

“I think he trusts you, Duchess,” he says. “And I think he’s scared of how much.”

“That’s quite an observation from someone who just met him.”

“What can I say, it’s my superpower,” he teases. “But I mean it. His hostility felt…forced. Like he was putting up a wall to save face. And if he really didn’t like you…he wouldn’t spend so much of his time trying to be near you.”

It’s a nice thought. Sweet, even, and you’re almost tempted to entertain the idea.

But you know Harry. You know his cruel jokes, and his pensive demeanor. You know that he fucks to drown out the rest of the world, and that he’d rather spend the rest of his life alone than in someone else’s company.

So, you simply sigh, and offer Lucas another shrug. “Yeah, well. If that were the case, I’d hope he’d at least—”

“The fuck is all this?”

The two of you turn toward the sound of Harry’s huffed remark, smirking to yourselves when you see that familiar frown.

“Uh…lunch,” you reply calmly, raising an eyebrow. “Like I told you.”

Harry comes to a stop just beside the table, flicking his glare between you. “It takes you a fucking hour to eat?”

Your eyes narrow. “It hasn’t been an hour, and we were talking.”

“So you were wasting time?”

Lucas grins, and you catch the way he glances down at the table to hide his amusement.

You straighten up and direct your displeasure toward Harry. “We were not wasting time, we were eating and getting to know each other. Is that all right with you?”

“No,” Harry says simply, and it infuriates you. “You don’t get paid to talk shit.”

“We were not—” You suck in a sharp breath, silently commanding yourself to remain relaxed. “Do you want something?”

“Yes, actually. Prescott wants to see us.”

You blink. “Why?”

“Don’t know.”

You look to Lucas, confused and slightly annoyed while Lucas leans back curiously.

“I’ll come with you,” he offers as you both stand. “If it’s about the project, maybe I can help explain—”

“We don’t need your help,” Harry interjects bluntly. “And he didn’t ask for you. He asked for us.”

You shoot another peeved look his way. “Harry—”

“Really, it’s no problem,” Lucas tries. “I probably need to get caught up, anyway—”

“Then catch up on your own fucking time,” Harry nearly snaps, large hand outstretching to snatch onto your upper arm. “If we need you, we’ll ask for you.”

With that, he begins to drag you away from the table, leaving Lucas and his mystification behind.

Stumbling along, you begin to fight against Harry’s firm grip, already wildly annoyed. “What the fuck is your problem—”

“Your car is fixed, right?” is all he says, keeping his eyes forward as he leads you through the lobby and toward the parking lot.

You hesitate. “Uh…yeah? Why?”

“Where is it?”

Your lashes flutter as you look from him to the array of vehicles before you. “Um…there. By the tree.”

With a short nod, he yanks you forward, guiding you to your car without so much as an explanation.

Still irritated, you slip yourself free right as he stops beside the trunk. “The hell are you doing—”

He opens the backdoor. “Get in.”

“What?”

“I said get in,” Harry repeats, “Duchess.”

You frown. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m gonna fuck you.”

And you almost want to laugh because you can’t believe where he got the nerve. “You’ve got to be kidding—”

“I’m not,” he says, rather assuredly before guiding his glasses back up. “Get in.”

“Harry…this is so fucking—”

“Don’t care.” He nods his chin toward the backseat. “In, Princess.”

You reckon you should stand your ground and refuse him. Tell him how childish he’s being, how vulgar, how rude. Make it clear that he doesn’t get to stomp his foot and demand you do as you’re told just because he’s upset.

And yet…your legs urge you forward until you’re slipping inside the car and settling on the other side.

Harry follows suit, yanking the door shut to close out the rest of the world before facing you. “Take off your jeans.”

However, your expression is menacing as you begin to fumble with the zipper on your pants. “You’re so fucking pathetic, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he says simply, but he’s beginning to smile as he tugs off his own belt. “But I’m not as pathetic as whatever the fuck that was.”

“What was? A harmless, friendly lunch?”

“Please,” he snorts. “He was clearly flirting with you, and it was hard to watch.”

Your eyes roll as you tug your jeans down your legs. “He was not flirting with me, he was just being nice—”

“Guys aren’t nice,” he retorts. “Not for nothing. He wanted something from you, and I spared you from having to pretend you were interested. You’re welcome.”

“Oh, really? And what did he want? To fuck me? Like you so desperately want to do?”

He scoffs, but he’s smirking. “I fuck you to make you feel better.”

“Right, okay.” You wiggle your underwear down your thighs. “Who’s to say he wasn’t gonna do the same?”

“He wasn’t,” he replies simply. “Trust me. Get up.”

With a huff, you oblige, turning around so you can settle on your hands and knees while Harry gets situated behind you. Strong hands melding to your hips to keep you steady.

His fingers move to smooth between your cheeks and down to your cunt, stroking it softly to prepare you.

Then, he chuckles. “And who is this for, hm?” he taunts, dipping into your arousal to spread it around. Ignoring the way you inhale a sharp hiss. “Me or him?”

You brace yourself against the seat of the car, chin dropping to your chest. “Him,” you grit. “Obviously.”

Harry hums, thumbing at your clit. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, there’s a sharp smack to your left ass cheek that makes you reel, the pain instantly dissolving into pleasure as you whine.

“Try again,” he tsks before slipping a practiced finger inside. “And this time…be honest.”

“I’m always honest,” you argue, already breathless from the feel of his touch. “How could it ever be for you?”

You can’t see him, but you imagine he’s smiling, entertained by your bratty behavior as he adds a second digit. Curling and pumping at a deliciously slow pace.

“You’re right,” he finally answers. “You hate me. You’d never get wet for me.”

You swallow another noise. “Exactly.”

“And if I fuck you…you’ll moan his name. Won’t you, Tink?”

“Yes.”

“Think about him the whole time. Beg him for what you think he can give you.”

“Shit—”

“Imagine his tiny, soft little cock. Too small to get you off. Probably wouldn’t even feel it, would you?”

He’s cruel. Sadistic and outrageously annoying. But he knows exactly how to play you, and you damn him to hell for how well it works.

He reaches around your body to tug your shirt up, pushing it over your tits until he can take a nice handful.

You love his hands. Love the way his skin feels against yours. The way he tweaks your nipple and rolls it around.

“Like that, don’t you?” he coos, the rhythm of his strokes through your pussy ever steady. “Know you do. Cause I know your body, Princess. Better than he ever will.”

You try to ignore the pleasure that ripples across the deep of your stomach, keeping your focus on the stitching beneath you. You hate when he’s right.

Suddenly, and without warning, he rips his fingers out, leaving you empty and dripping while you groan.

“Easy,” he tuts, now tugging his cock free. He shifts some, propping his leg up onto the seat while his other foot remains on the floor. “Gonna have to be quick, aren’t we? Since you wasted so much of our lunch break with him.”

You exhale a scoff at this, glancing back just long enough to glare.

He grins.

“Stay still,” he instructs, dragging the tip through your folds. Spreading you gently and moaning when he sees his cock glisten with you. “Just like that, s’a good girl. Gonna make it better. Gonna fuck you right.”

The first push in is heaven. It always is, and you aren’t sure why. Like adding the final piece to the puzzle. Complete, in a sense.

Your nails curl into the seat below, a futile attempt at finding some stability as his thick cock stretches you open.

You hear him hiss through gritted teeth, his hands once again finding your waist to hold you in place. “Breathe,” he suddenly calls, smacking your leg once. “You’re not breathing.”

“Sorry,” you gasp, forcing air back into your lungs. “Don’t…don’t know why I do that.”

He makes a small, entertained noise before allowing you a moment to adjust. “Feels that good, yeah? Do I take your breath away?”

“Blow me,” you retort, but you can’t help smiling.

Finally, he settles himself all the way, sinking into your warm cunt rather comfortably as you both release sighs of relief.

“There it is,” you hear him murmur, his fingers curling into your side before he pulls back. “Okay, easy. Easy, Tink, yeah? Shit—”

The rapid but hard pace is addictive. Perfectly full and pleasurable with each thrust and snap of his hips against your ass.

Despite the somewhat small space, Harry finds a way to bend your body to his will. Keeping you below him as he drives himself faster and faster. Uncoordinated and unrhythmic. He’s merely chasing the feeling, chasing the way your pussy pulls him in. Clenches around him, soaks him, keeps him warm.

“You know what?” he suddenly seethes, surging forward until he finds a new angle. “I think you were right…think you should have gone with him.”

You want to respond – want to make any other noise besides these strained whimpers, but it’s useless. Your voice forming around his name yet again as your toes curl.

“You were better before he came along,” he says, hand coming down to slap against your ass. The sound echoing around the tiny constraints of the vehicle. “Tighter. Needier. So fucking easy.”

Your lashes flutter, eyes rolling back. He’s feeding into the part of you that likes to be degraded, and you feel a chill dance down your spine.

“Did anything I fucking wanted. Took my cock like a good girl,” he continues. “Let me stretch you. Let me train you. Break you. Have my fucking way with my fucking pussy. Behaved so well for me.”

Another spank is had to your tender skin, and you cry out as you bury yourself into the seat below.

“Now, well…now you're just useless to me. Aren’t you, Princess?” His movements get sloppier. Faster. “Now you waste your time with him.”

In any other moment, you’d refute his comments. Play his game, egg him on.

But in this moment – a moment where your singular focus is him and only him – you find that you can only shake your head quickly and with misery. “No. No, just you.”

You hear him chuckle, and it makes a new wave of arousal rush between your legs. A type of praise you thrive on. “Just me, huh? But you’re not my whore anymore, are you? You’re his—”

“No,” you whimper, writhing when he reaches down to press his fingers to your clit. “Yours…you…only you.”

“I don’t know, Tink. Seemed awful smitten with him. Same way you used to be smitten with me—”

You can do nothing but whine pitifully as you push back into his touch, ass raised and spread in front of him.

Another smack ripples across your cheek before he kneads the flesh with his free hand, circling your clit with the other. “What? What do you wanna say, baby, hm? Wanna beg me to let you cum? Is that what you want?”

You try to nod, but your cheek is pressed firmly to the seat of the car.

“I know you’re close,” he murmurs, shifting some so he has a better position to fuck himself into you quicker. “God, you’re so fucking close. Can feel your pretty little walls clamping down on me. You’re fucking shaking, baby, come on. Come on, let go. I’ll let you cum. Go ahead.”

To accompany his instruction, he begins to rub the sensitive nerves in a harder fashion. Pressing them down as he forces your body to comply.

It happens all in the same moment. There’s no time for preparation or warning as you release a strangled gasp that disappears into his equally fervent moan.

Instantly, he releases your clit to take hold of your hips with both hands, and slam his cock into you – sheathing himself completely as he releases his load.

It’s familiar and incredible. The car is hot and filled with the sounds of your ecstasy. You’re drowning in it – drowning in him. In the way he makes you feel, in the blinding pleasure that still travels down the back of your neck all the way to your toes.

It’s deep and it’s full and it’s endless. One of the best you’ve had, and you can’t help but smile as you work to catch your breath.

You begin to slump forward as Harry chases after you. Slipping his arm beneath your stomach to keep you upright and turn you toward him as his cock slips out.

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, glancing over the part of your face he can see. “You all right? You breathing?”

You nod weakly. “Mhm. M’good. So good.”

You catch his soft smile. “Good.”

He reaches for your panties, gently dragging them back up until they settle around your hips. Keeping what’s left of his cum inside of you.

“Just in case Lucas gets any ideas,” he teases, shooting you a wink before helping you sit up.

You both begin to wrangle your clothing back on, redoing belts and buttons as you work to catch your breath.

Oddly enough, Harry doesn’t rush to exit the car, and you find yourself somewhat surprised. Instead, he merely readjusts his glasses, runs a hand through his hair, and slumps back against the seat.

And for some reason, the sight of his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils makes you grin. And you find that you can’t resist moving closer and crawling onto his lap.

Once you’re straddled across his thighs, you dip down, and take his lips with yours. Kissing him hard and with everything you haven’t been able to give him before, ignoring his look of his surprise.

But he kisses you back, exactly the way you knew he would. Taking hold of your body once more to keep you close.

Tongues and teeth clash – it’s messy and rushed, yet effortless and easy. And you can’t help but smile giddily as you tug on his bottom lip.

When you finally pull back to breathe, Harry is wearing a similar expression, seemingly dazed and amused as he holds you on his lap.

Chuckling, you swipe your thumb across his mouth. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”

He nips at your finger to make you squeal. “I know.”

A quiet moment settles then as you study him, feeling entranced and relaxed by the soft green behind his crooked glasses.

With a gentle smirk, you push them back up, and whisper, “Were you really jealous?”

His snobby scoff makes you laugh. “I was not fucking jealous, Tinkerbell. You just don’t know him.”

“Neither do you,” you retort. “He’s really nice. He just wants to help.”

He groans again, letting his head drop back. “For fuck’s sake, Princess. You’re so goddamn trusting—”

“Yeah, I am. After all, I trust you.”

His eyes fall to yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He smiles again, and you feel your heart flutter. Reminded yet again of the way things used to be – a time before the hostility and angry comments.

You think back to what Lucas said. His inquiry on the shift, and while you’re sure nothing good can come from your prying, you find yourself asking, “What happened?”

Harry blinks. “What?”

“To you. To us, I guess,” you ask, growing oddly nervous under his confused stare. “When you first started, you were so…nice. And happy. And sweet, even.”

His expression falls, settling into a chilling frown.

“And then…I don’t know, something happened,” you continue, now a bit quieter. “You changed, you got…angry, and tense, and you just…you hid yourself away, you know? And don’t get me wrong, I like bickering with you, I just…I guess I’ve always wondered what…went…wrong?”

You feel him tense beneath you. The way his hands tighten and the way that soft green turns into a raging storm of indifference and spite.

Almost within the blink of an eye, he disappears into another version of himself. One that refuses to participate in this discussion and one that desperately wants to remove himself from you.

You can feel him slipping away. Can feel the drop in your stomach – a pit a mile deep. Normally, you like to piss him off. But this is different, this is…this isn’t what you want.

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing once. “Why does it fucking matter?”

“I don’t…I guess it doesn’t,” you stammer, shrugging once. “I just wondered, is all. I don’t mind, or anything, I just…I was thinking about it—”

“Why?”

“I…I don’t know. Lucas asked, and I thought—”

“Lucas?” It’s a venomous scoff that makes you jolt. “Let me guess. He was just trying to help—”

“No, he just…he asked what you were like, and I said that you…you—”

“I what?”

“That…fuck, I just said things used to be different,” you huff, but your cheeks feel warm. You’re embarrassed. Disappointed in yourself for pushing. For ruining the first calm moment the two of you have ever shared. “And it made me think about it, so I…I wanted to ask—”

“Well don’t,” he seethes, releasing your waist as if trying to get away from you. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

“I know,” you agree, sliding off his lap to give him a bit of space. “I know, I’m sorry, I just…I thought maybe I could help.”

He shoots you a look that splits right through you. It’s cold and it’s incredulous and it makes your throat run dry.

“Why?” he says again, studying you closely. “Why the fuck would you want to help?”

Truthfully, you aren’t sure. “I don’t know. Maybe because there’s a part of me…a very small part…that doesn’t totally hate you? I guess?”

You wince as you say it. You hate the way it sounds. Hate what it implies because you do hate him.

But not enough to leave him when he needs you.

Harry’s lashes flutter at your response, and he watches you for a moment more before he leans back, and his expression twists.

“Yeah, well…it doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, almost to himself as he reaches for the handle on the door. “So don’t fucking worry about it.”

Confused and somewhat dejected, you lean forward. “Har—”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“…what?”

He sighs, looking down toward the floor. Refusing your eye. “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t…I don’t want to do this. With you. It’s too fucking…there’s too much extra shit. All right, it was fun, but I don’t…I’m done.”

There are a hundred things you want to say. A hundred excuses, a hundred pleas, a hundred retorts.

But none of them feel fitting as you watch him push the door open and step out.

He hesitates, almost as though expecting you to stop him. To argue and call him back.

Yet you don’t. Because you know that nothing you say will ever be able to change his mind.

He’s already decided.

“Fine,” you whisper, offering a short nod. “Yeah, fine. Whatever you want.”

He looks at you. Finally. Expression filled with a solemn sort of goodbye before he nods as well.

And the door slams shut.

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baptismbaby · 8 months

Text

† GOD, FORGIVE ME PT. 3

mean! ellie x innocent! reader a/n: will post to ao3 baptismsbaby. sorry if this is a little rushed. smoked a blunt and brain is still fuzzy. unsure how i feel about the ending hope yall like it anyways warnings: toxic! ellie, degrading, praise, pup used as a petname, oral (ellie! receiving), strap usage (r! receiving), slight edging, possessive! ellie, reader is gagged at some point if anyone hates that creds to elliesgalaxy for ellie pic wc: 3.4k<3 part one part two

Six months had passed since you first hooked up with Ellie.

Looking back, you had changed drastically since that night. You used to be so strict with religion and refused to have any fun. It took a month of hooking up with Ellie to finally get over it and realize you could be a Christian and still have fun. I mean, it was the apocalypse. Rules haven’t existed in over twenty five years.

In the beginning, you were constantly telling Ellie “this is the last time.” She’d look at you with a teasing smile and that glint in her eye. She’d laugh it off, always saying the same shit. “You need me.” You’d go back, giving more and more of yourself up to her. Whatever she wanted, you gave to her. The more sex the two of you had, the better the friendship outside of the hookups got. Dina was extremely happy to finally hang out with both of you without the bickering. You loved Ellie outside of the sex. She had her moments still but she was the funniest person you’ve ever met. You wished she could be that way with you alone sometimes. You knew you had to hide your feelings if it meant getting to sleep with Ellie but it was difficult. Whether there was a party at Jesse’s or her place, she’d tell everyone in the smoke circle how bad she would want to fuck some random girl at the party. Ellie didn’t, of course. She’d just say that to get a rise out of you so she could tease you about it later. It hurt but you refused to let it show if it meant risking not being able to see Ellie anymore.

It was another night of partying for everyone and the girls were at your place getting ready. Ellie sat on your bed, wearing a brown flannel and some jeans. Since the weather had gotten warmer, she had trimmed her hair a bit. The way the choppy layers fell in her face sometimes made you blush. She looked so good.

“I’m thinking about wearing something super revealing,” said Dina, going through the dresses she’d find on patrol. “I need Jesse to be jealous.”

“I give it a week,” mumbled Ellie.

“I am not getting back with him!”

“You said that the last time,” you pointed out.

“And the time before that.”

“The time before that time too.”

Dina hit you and Ellie with the dress she was holding. “Stop it you two, I get it! I mean it this time.”

You looked back at Ellie who was already staring at you with a smirk. Dina groaned and continued to look for clothes while you laughed.

“The little being silent but talking with the eyes thing gets on my nerves,” complained Dina. She handed you a dress to wear and you held it up to your body. It was white and silky with a little lace trim at the bottom.

“That’s a little short,” said Ellie.

“Yeah, which is perfect. She needs to get some finally.”

Ellie shot a glare at the back of Dina’s head but neither of you noticed.

“I’ll try it on and see.”

You began to undress, turned away from Ellie. You could see her watching you through the mirror. You weren’t wearing a bra but was wearing a see through pink thong.

“Woah, where’d you find that? It’s so cute,” complimented Dina.

“I found it on one of my patrols a couple months ago.”

Actually, Ellie had found it for you.

You slipped into the dress and turned around, seeing your ass hanging out at the back. “Okay, maybe this is a bit much but it’s super cute.”

“Damn, I would so fuck you,” Dina remarked. “Please wear that to the party. At least five girls are gonna throw themselves at you.”

“Eh, that’s probably too much, Dina. We see the same people every time anyways. No one new to impress. Do you have something else for her?” asked Ellie. You raised an eyebrow at her, wondering why she was being like this.

“I have some more but-”

“I want to wear this, it’s fine,” you interrupted.

“Okay cool, we ready to go?”

Everyone nodded and started to head out. Dina made it down the stairs first, leaving you and Ellie at the top. Dina was grabbing stuff to put in her bag so she didn’t see Ellie grabbing your wrist and pulling you back towards her. She wrapped an arm around you and used her other hand to hold your hair. Her lips brushed against your ear. “I fucking told you it was too short. Are you trying to piss me off?”

You sighed, tilting your head to the side further as she ran her fingers down your neck to your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t care if you wore that for me but in front of everybody? Are you fucking kidding me? You get a taste of my cock and now you’re a slut? Don’t even think about coming by tonight.”

She shoved you forward roughly. You stumbled but quickly stood up straight, spinning around to give Ellie a dirty look. “Stop it,” you whispered harshly. “You’ll be over it by the time the party's over.”

“I mean it,” Ellie hissed. “Don’t speak to me for the rest of the night. Whores don’t get rewarded when they don’t listen. Fucking brat, you know better.”

Ellie walked past you down the stairs, leaving you dumbfounded and angry. You stomped down and grabbed one of the bottles from the table to drink on the way there.

“Woah, pregaming?” questioned Dina.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be a long night.”

You were miserable at the party. It had been ten minutes since the three of you arrived and Ellie was acting like such a bitch. You sat by her on the couch while everyone passed around a blunt. She kept skipping you, telling the others you weren’t participating.

“Dina, give me the fucking blunt,” you demanded once it reached her for the third time.

“You’re not smoking.”

“Yes I am, Ellie. Even if it means I have to roll my own.”

Dina squinted at the both of you in confusion. If she was an outsider, she would’ve thought the two of you were a couple in an argument. But it was just you and Ellie. No way there was something going on.

“You can’t even fucking roll,” Ellie insulted. You leaned forward to see another smoke circle across the living room.

“I’ll just join Jesse’s smoke circle. Sorry, Dina.”

You got up, pulling your dress down before walking over to Jesse’s group. You made sure to swing your hips a bit in case Ellie was watching.

“Why are you two arguing again?” Dina asked Ellie once you left.

“It’s nothing.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the two of you were fucking.”

Ellie took the blunt from Dina and puffed on it. “No way,” she declined. “You couldn’t pay me to fuck church girl.”

“I’d do it for free,” Ellie’s friend said next to her. When she passed the blunt to him, she made sure to elbow him hard in the side. “Ow! The fuck, Ellie?!”

“She’s gay.”

He frowned in disappointment. “Aw man, all the hot chicks are.”

Dina couldn’t stop eyeing Ellie. She was acting strange. Back at yours, she kept telling you to put something different on. Now she’s watching you intently from across the room as you do the thing she told you not to do. At that moment, everything clicked for Dina. Ellie liked you.

“So, what’s the deal between you and Dina?” you asked Jesse as you passed him the joint.

“Shit, I don’t know. Pretty sure we’re over for good.”

“That sounded convincing,” you said sarcastically.

Jesse made a face at you while he crossed his arms. “Oh yeah? What about you and Ellie? You follow her around like a lost puppy.”

“We’re friends now.”

“The way you look at her is not how you look at Dina. It’s how I look at Dina.”

As he spoke, his eyes landed on her from across the room. “Look at her. Talking up some other guy to piss me off. Ellie is staring at you. She looks jealous. I’d know.”

You glanced back but Ellie quickly averted her gaze. You sighed and looked down at your hands in your lap. You wanted to say something so badly but knew that Ellie would end it with you if you told anyone. A girl came and sat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. “Hey,” she slurred. “Wanna dance with me?”

You looked up at Ellie who’s brows were furrowed in anger. You grinned and stood up, grabbing the girl’s hand. You led her to an open spot on the floor and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around you as you started grinding against her with the beat of the music.

“I’m Grace,” she introduced herself. “You hang with Ellie and Dina, right?”

You nodded, too busy watching Ellie as her face grew red.

“You’re super pretty. You do a lot of that church stuff, right?”

“Yeah,” you responded dryly. You turned around so your back was pressed against her chest. Her hands rushed up and down your body until she grabbed your tits. You shoved them off and looked back at her. “Don’t,” you demanded.

Grace saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see Ellie speedwalking towards you. Grace let go of you and ran off. You were perplexed, wondering if maybe you came off as rude. You felt hands grab you and start shoving you towards a door.

“Hey, what the hell?”

You were pushed into a bathroom. The door slammed and you spun around to see Ellie locking the door. “Ellie!”

Ellie shot daggers at you with her eyes, which meant you needed to be quiet. She pushed you against the wall and held you there with a knee between your thighs. Her hands went over your mouth to stifle any sounds you were making.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She started to unbuckle her jeans, still covering your mouth. They dropped around her ankles to reveal the strap she was wearing over her boxers.

“You’re mine and mine only. This pussy,” she growled as she grabbed your clothed cunt tightly, “belongs to me.”

She kneeled down to yank your panties off.

“E-Ellie, I’m s-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

She balled your panties up and held them up to your face. “Open.”

“What?”

“Open your fucking mouth!”

You obeyed and parted your lips slightly. She sighed in frustration and reached out to pull it open further, shoving the panties into your mouth.

“This will keep you quiet,” she muttered. “You’re really dumb, you know that? Good girls don’t try to make their girlfriends jealous.”

Before you could even react, she bent you over the sink and shoved her cock inside of you. You let out a muffled groan, the feeling of her filling you up taking you by surprise. She fucked you hard but painfully slow. She’d thrust in, wait a couple seconds then do it again.

“I want you to watch,” she commanded. She grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head up so you could look in the mirror. You could see Ellie behind you with an angry expression on her face. “Stupid girl, you will never find better than me. Get that through your fucking skull.”

She sped up, making you squeal even louder. She placed both of her hands over your mouth as she pounded into you harder.

“Fuck,” Ellie whimpered. “Fuck, you look so good like this.”

Ellie noticed your legs started to shake as you felt your climax getting closer.

“You wanna cum baby?”

You whined, pushing yourself back against her so you could finish. Ellie pulled out of you and turned you around. She lifted you up onto the sink and started kissing up and down your neck. Ellie took your panties out of your mouth, shoving her tongue down your throat.

You tried to pull away to speak but Ellie grabbed your head to keep you still. Her strap would brush against your cunt, eliciting a moan from you.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?" Ellie asked when she pulled away. You shook your head no. “That’s right, baby. You’ve been so mean to me tonight. You’re lucky I’m even fucking you right now.”

“I’m sorry, Ellie,” you murmured. “I shouldn’t have danced with that girl. I belong to you.”

“You say you’re sorry but you have to prove it to me… get on your knees.”

You obliged and kneeled down, opening your mouth expecting her to fuck it with the strap. Instead, she slid out of the harness and her boxers simultaneously and set them down on her pants.

“I want you to make me cum.”

You were shocked. Ellie never let you touch her and she was going to let you eat her out? You didn’t know if you could do it since she never taught you. You didn’t want to disappoint Ellie.

“I’ll guide you through it, pup. It’s okay,” she assured you as if she read your mind.

Ellie leaned back against the wall as your face went towards her pussy. You stuck your tongue out and swiped it up her slit. Ellie shook a little, reaching down and grabbing your hair. “Move your tongue in circles,” she said.

You slowly moved your tongue in a circle on her clit, savoring the taste of her. You looked up at Ellie who was biting her lip to stay quiet.

“T-That’s it,” she praised. “My g-good girl.”

You sped it up a bit once you got used to it, Ellie’s legs trembling against you.

“Fuck!” she panted. “Just like t-that, pup. You’re doing s’ well.”

You decided to stick a finger inside her to watch her reaction. She grabbed the end of her shirt and bit the fabric, trying hard to not make a sound. You picked up the pace, curling your finger as she struggled to stay standing.

“I’m right there baby, don’t stop.”

She gripped your hair and yanked you away once her orgasm hit. She trembled as she started to come down, your hair still tangled between her fingers. Ellie pulled you up and slammed her lips against yours, the two of you desperate to taste each other.

She lifted you up onto the sink again and brushed a finger against your clit.

“You’re so good at making me feel good, baby. I bet you could make yourself feel good too.”

She stepped back and leaned against the door, her arms crossed and a huge smirk on her face. “Come on, touch yourself for me.”

“W-What?”

“I said I wasn’t gonna let you cum but that doesn’t mean I won’t let you finish yourself off while I watch,” said Ellie. She chuckled as your face grew red. “C’mon, I know you can do it.”

“I’ve never tried it, though. I prefer letting you do it.”

“I’m not touching you again until you make yourself cum.”

You whined, feeling too embarrassed to do something like that. You knew that if you refused again, she’d leave you there all alone. You slowly reached your hand between your thighs and pressed your fingers to your clit. You sighed and slowly started to move them in a circle, Ellie eyeing your cunt closely as she licked her lips.

“Atta girl,” she praised. “You like touching yourself for me?”

You didn’t respond. She laughed and grabbed your thigh gently. “You’re shy now, pretty girl? How cute. You were just fucking me and now you can’t even look at me.”

You sped your fingers up the more she spoke to you, soft whines escaping your lips and echoing off the walls.

“Good girl. You put on such a good show for me.”

Your legs shook as a knot began to build in your stomach. “El-Ellie, can I cum please? I-I’m so close.”

“Go on,” confirmed Ellie. You grabbed Ellie’s hand on your thigh and gripped it as your climax took over you.

“Shhhh, baby. That’s it. Be quiet.”

Ellie took your hand and sucked your fingers to get a taste of you. She hummed, wrapping her arms around you to help you stand. “You did so good,” she whispered, holding you close to her body. For some reason, you wanted to cry. Ellie hasn’t comforted you after sex since you lost your virginity, if that was even considered comfort. You melted in her arms and sighed. The warmth of Ellie’s body made your heart ache. You wished so desperately she was like this all of the time. You suddenly remembered what she called you earlier and wondered when you should bring it up. Ellie stepped back and grabbed your panties.

“Let me help you,” she said. Ellie pulled your panties up your legs and tugged your dress down. She quickly fixed your hair with a smile before putting the rest of her clothes back on.

“Can I ask you something?”

Ellie nodded in approval, putting her belt back in the loops and buckling it.

“You said… good girls don’t make their girlfriends jealous.”

“I did.”

“Am I… your girlfriend?”

Ellie shrugged, avoiding your eyes as she tried to focus on anything but you. “Uh… I think that’s up to you. I haven’t asked so… we really aren’t.”

“Are you wanting to ask me?”

“Fuck, why is this so awkward?” Ellie muttered to herself. “I’ve kinda been repressing some feelings towards you for a while now because I wanted this to be a hookup thing and nothing more. But tonight confirmed my feelings for you. Seeing you wearing that dress, knowing people would be eye fucking you… it made me sick. When I saw you dancing with that girl, I was infuriated. Dina kinda figured it out somehow and said I should tell you. I guess I’m not good at hiding my feelings once I have them.”

You smiled. You never thought your feelings for Ellie would be reciprocated. You knew it was hard for her to admit it, which made you like her even more.

“See, I knew something would come out of this!” you exclaimed. Ellie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the shit eating grin that grew on her face.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I was certain that if you knew I liked you, you’d resent me.”

“Pfft, I knew you liked me. You do a shitty job at hiding things. I can’t go anywhere without you trailing behind me. You’re a pain in my ass but in a good way,” Ellie opened the door for you and followed you out. She wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to her.

“So, you wanna ask me?”

“Ugh, no. We’ve said enough for it to be official. You can’t make me say anything.”

“Aw, you’re shy!”

“Shut up…”

Ellie stopped and looked down at you, her thumb slowly brushing against your cheek as her eyes softened. “You were always mine, weren’t you?” she asked.

“Of course I was.”

“I promise to be nicer. I know I said that last time but I mean it. I like this. You’re not so bad, church girl.”

You chuckled at the nickname. “I guess you’re alright yourself, Els.”

“What if I told you Jesse and Dina are making out behind you right now?”

You turned to look and laughed at the sight. “We already knew it would happen,” you said.

“Yeah. The party is starting to die a little bit. Wanna swing by yours so you can get a few things for the morning?”

“What do you mean?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re spending the night with me.”

“Wait, really?”

“I’m not saying it again. Let’s go,” Ellie said as she dragged you out by the hand. The two of you spent the rest of the night holding each other in Ellie’s bed, talking about anything you could so neither of you would fall asleep. Ellie felt nervous about entering a relationship and still felt some guilt about being such a bitch to you. And yet, something about this felt so right to her. She was okay with changing her ways since you changed for her. Ellie knew she made the right choice and that it would be worth it. You were wrapped around her finger.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #the last of us part two

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chaosandmarigolds · 1 month

Text

Festival

based on this AMAZING ask!!

“Oi, Olls,” Simon looks down at the skinned arm and then back to the utterly unaffected five-year-old (who just took a rather nasty tumble off the slide). It was an easy back day at the county fair, which for the record he thought was a horrible idea with a five-month old yet Johnny said it would be fun for Oliver and his niece, Jane. Simon tried to get a good look at the wound, covered in dirt and pebbles, “Lad lemme-”

“Dad-dad, I got go- Janie! Wait up!” Oliver snipped in reply, pulling his arm away and trying to take off after his new friend, and he succeeded, taking off to the next ride wait line- where Jane was already standing among the groups of children and teens with the bright red balloon tied to her wrist.

Of course, he watched the boy run through the crowds and only stood to direct his gaze to Johnny as he stood up, not saying anything but trying to see past the groups to get a good look at the kids- but he could see the red balloon.

“Think the girls are havin fun?” Johnny asked, leaning onto the stroller.

To that Simon shrugged looking down to Tess, who was thankfully very much asleep amidst the loud noises, “‘m sure they are.”

“Shoppin, wine tasting annnn,” Johnny faltered as he thought, looking to the sky as Simon knelt down to fix the baby blanket. Though it was loud and the crowds were bustling it still had a sense of peace about it, small town, small fair but it was enough to make the two kids feel as if they were teleported to the best place on the planet. “An’- gah, Sarah said somethin else, can’t ‘member what though.”

“Jus gettin dolled up or somethin,” Simon mumbled under his breath and then placed a chaste kiss against the baby’s forehead before standing up to his full height, looking around for the same bright red balloon.

Only…the balloon was floating away.

It took about five strides to get from where he had been to the line where Olly and Jane were supposed to be, yet there was a stunning lack of them both.

He must have called the kid's names twice before Johnny had caught on to what was going on, yet the only thing Simon could think of doing was telling him to go get security, he asked the people if they had seen them- his voice harsh and causing the looks on the parent's face’s to pale.

He couldn’t find them.

No one seemed to even see them.

“A little boy- he’s missin his front tooth, striped shirt with a dinosaur on it.”

“I’m sorry man, that sounds like every kid I’ve seen today.”

…

“Jane,” Ollie said slowly following his friend reluctantly through the corridors of the ‘haunted house’ which they had snuck in through the back, since there was a thirteen-plus age restriction on the attraction, “Janie I reaaaalllly don’t think this is good idea.”

To that the four-year-old frowns, her pigtails swinging as she looks at him, the blue light and fog doing nothing to ease his fears, “Uncle Johnny always say we got face fears! An you said you are scared of the scary ghosts.”

“Scary is literally in name, Janie!” Ollie countered crossing his arms, “Uncle Johnny and my dad are gonna be mad.”

Jane shook her head, clawing up on the ladder to reach the main level, “Uncle Johnny doesn’t get mad at me, mum said it’s cus ‘m cute…Uncle Simon might get mad though.”

Ollie frowned from his spot, looking up at her as she began to disappear from the view, he couldn’t leave her alone, he was older than her and his dad did ask him to look over her. So, he swallowed down his fear and followed behind her, the steam and fog making it a bit hard to see for a moment before he was able to stand up again- the lights dim and red and the floor underneath them seemed to be uneasy, red liquid smeared along the rotted wood and the low groan of something was enough to make him want to cry.

However Janie was walking forward, so he quickly followed, moving to walk just a bit in front of her- grabbing her hand and doing his best to act brave when in reality he was not.

Ollie stopped walking when they heard a voice from behind, and he turned to look around for a split second, only for Jane to let out a shrill scream and he turned his head to look ahead again- to only mimic her scream. Shoving her behind himself as what seemed to be a literal monster jumped from behind a barrel.

“Oh SHIT! CUT IT!!”

A voice suddenly yelled, and then the monster ripped off the mask, revealing a normal-looking kid, probably sixteen, “Whoa-hey-hey, you guys- JERRY FUCKIN CUT THE LIGHTS.” The kid screamed at the ceiling for a moment for the overhead lights to flicker back on and the noises stopped.

“Hey,” The kid knelt down to look at the now sobbing children, “Hey, my name is Kyle. How’d ya-oh cmon…it’s okay, I’m not scary.”

“You-you ghost!” Ollie screamed.

“No! No, it’s just a costume, ya know on how on halloween you dress up? I’m jus dressing up, I’m not gonna-oh okay, you’re crying…again, okay…” Kyle tried to explain, then looking to his coworker, Margo who was dressed as a zombie, utterly hopeless about the now two screaming and sobbing toddlers.

…

“Called security,” Margo huffs out as she sits down to look at the toddlers, who were much more relaxed once they offered slushies, and she looks to Kyle, “They said two creepy guys said they lost their kids but thought they were lyin.”

Kyle frowns and leans back in his chair after he and Margo had made a lazy attempt at cleaning off their makeup and explained to the kids it seemed to calm them down, plus the slushies of course. “Hey kiddo, can you tell me your name? So the nice people-

“My dad says to not talk to strangers.”

Margo gives the kid a look and leans forward on the table, “He’s smart, that’s smart- but we need to-”

“Margo-”

“OLIVER.”

It would be an understatement to say Kyle and Margo picked those kids up within a millisecond, because what they saw were two men that could break them both in half within a second and who did not look like father material walking towards them.

“That’s my kid.” One of them barked out, pointing to the little boy, who was just happily sipping his slushy.

Kyle scoffs, “And I’m the fucking king of England.”

To that Margo tried to then play damage control, “Listen, I don’t want to have to call sec-”

“Uncle Johnny we saw scary ghost!!” The little girl exclaimed happily.

“See? That’s my niece and the boys mine. Give me my kid.”

Margo and Kyle exchanged looks and then looked to the little boy, who only caught on when he saw the man’s look and he nodded eagerly, messy hair falling in front of his face.

“That’s Ister Riley he and my mom are married. He’s my dad.”

…

“I jus wanna be brave ‘ike you Uncle Johnny,” Jane said as they drove home, still sipping her oversized slushie.

Johnny and Simon had agreed to not mention this, to act like it never happened, for their sake. “I know, princess, an’ yer so so brave.”

“I no longer scared of ghosts.” Ollie said mindlessly, staring out the window.

That caught Simon’s attention and he looked back through the rearview mirror, checking on Tess with a quick glance and then to Olliver, “Oi? Yeah?”

“Mmmhm, cause ghosts are jus nice people wearin costumes.”

(annnnyway that's it!! feedback and comments are the easiest way to let me know you liked my work!! thanks to everyone for their support!)

#simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic #cod x you #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #mw2 ghost #dad!simon riley #ghost call of duty #dad simon riley #dad!ghost #coco's chaos <3 #coco’s pre k universe! <3

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