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punkshort · 20 days

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Swept Away | Chapter 6: Undertow

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel does his best to distance himself after that morning on the yacht, but you finally have enough of his games after attending an art gallery exhibition.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, jealousy, sexual tension, flirting, threat of physical violence, good ol' fashioned argument where reader demands some goddamn answers, fingering

A/N: thank you @txtattoostark for beta-ing ❤️ And Happy Birthday @pedropascalsbbg 🎂

WC: 8.7K

Series Masterlist

You weren't going to beg. At least, that's what you told yourself over and over whenever Joel grazed a hand over your back at dinner or you caught him staring at you in your bikini just a little too long.

It had been five excruciating days since the yacht. Five days since that morning you shamelessly fucked yourself on his lap. And five days since you had found another envelope of cash on your pillow after you took a shower. You had stared at it, stomach churning with shame before you tossed it in your bag with the other unopened envelope. You had held out hope that the morning on the yacht would finally tear down his walls and he would let you in, but the cash on your pillow told you that you were wrong.

Ain't part of the deal.

Was that all this was? Were you too naive to think there was something more developing between you?

More than once that week you laid in your bed and wondered how he managed to get you all twisted around so fast. You don't let people steamroll you and you know your worth. That was his assessment of you when you first met, and he was right. That first day in his office you could hardly stand his overly confident and pompous attitude. You stood up for yourself and had a fucking spine. So where did that girl go?

Why don't you hear my terms first and then decide how much your dignity is worth?

How much was your dignity worth now? You rolled onto your side and pulled your knees to your chest, your stomach suddenly feeling queasy. You've never, ever acted this way over a man before. Was it because he kept rejecting you? Were you really that vain? No, that wasn't you. It was something more. You liked him... or, at least, you liked the parts of him he allowed you to see.

And, you don't quit. You're determined.

You breathed out a heavy sigh and rolled out of bed, giving up on the idea of sleep. You had plans to get lunch with Zoe that afternoon but until then, you had nothing but time to kill. Joel had thrown himself back into work the minute you came back from the yacht, so he spent most of his time doing that or he joined Glenn and the others to golf or play cards in the afternoons. He rarely came up for air. If he joined you by the pool, he stayed in the lounge chair, no matter how warm it was, but you could feel his eyes on you when your back was turned. You knew deep down this attraction wasn't one sided, but his resistance was driving you insane.

It was early. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting the living room in a dark blue hue. You sat with your legs tucked under you on the couch, your robe pulled tight over your sleepwear with a cup of coffee clutched between both hands, watching as the sun began to rise over the ocean.

Stop feeling bad for yourself. You're in fucking paradise.

"Oh, you're up."

"Jesus!"

You swiveled around in surprise when you saw Joel standing between the kitchen and living room, panting and covered with sweat. Your eyes swooped down before you could stop them to take in his drenched shirt and athletic shorts before looking him in the eye.

"I didn't even know you were gone," you said while trying your best to ignore the very physical reaction you were having to a post-workout Joel.

"Got an early start," he said before reaching into the fridge for a water. You turned back towards the windows to continue watching the sunrise because if you didn't, your brain was going to short circuit.

It was silent for a few minutes and you had assumed Joel had went to his room to shower, but suddenly he spoke up directly behind you. "Any plans for today?"

You took a sip of coffee so you could resist turning around to gaze at him with big fuck-me eyes. "Just lunch with Zoe."

He hummed while he chugged his water. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up from his proximity, but you remained firm and refused to turn around.

"Meant to tell you last night - Glenn invited the group of us to his daughter's art gallery. She's the curator there," Joel rounded the couch and sat down next to you with a grunt, causing you to tug your legs closer. "She's got some exhibition show all weekend, supposed to be a real big deal for her. Told 'em we'd go and show our support."

You nodded and took another sip from your coffee, eyes still glued to the ocean.

"Alright."

He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed you a credit card. "Why don't you go shoppin' with Zoe and get yourself a dress?"

You finally tore your eyes away to look at the heavy, black card dangling from his fingers.

"I think your assistant already bought plenty of options."

"So what's one more?" he asked with a little grin. He tilted his head to the side and caught your eye before saying, "I want you to pick somethin' out. Not my assistant. Want you to get somethin' you like."

The gesture was weak, but it was there, so you slowly took the card and slid it into the pocket of your robe. "Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome, darlin'," he said breezily before standing up to head towards his room. Only then did you allow your eyes to slide appreciatively down his back, your gaze lingering until he disappeared down the hall. You set your coffee mug down on the table before pulling the heavy credit card from your pocket to examine it. He infuriated you with how easily he was able to disregard what happened while you had spent almost every waking moment for the past week obsessing over it. Then a slow smile spread across your face as you tucked the credit card away for safe keeping.

If he wanted to play games, you could play right back.

"Holy fuck, girl," Zoe gasped when you stepped out from behind the curtain of the fitting room. She was holding a glass of champagne daintily between her fingers, her long legs crossed over one another as she perched on the edge of a pure white sofa. "That's the one. You have to get it. Joel's gonna lose his shit."

You grinned and turned towards the three panel mirror in front of a small platform. Stepping up, you swished the red satin material back and forth, admiring the way it hugged your curves but the eye was particularly drawn to the long slit up your left leg, ending mere inches away from your hip.

"You think so? You don't think it's a little much for an art gallery?"

Zoe shook her head and stood to join you in the mirror. "No, it's absolutely stunning. It was fucking made for you."

You couldn't stop smiling as you fiddled with the off the shoulder sleeves. "Alright, fine," you conceded as Zoe giddily clapped her hands.

After you carefully stepped out of the dress and handed it to a sales clerk, you put your own clothes back on and made your way through the store to the register when something else caught your eye.

You picked up a matching red silk thong with black lace embroidery, feeling the smooth material between your fingers.

"No brainer," Zoe said before you even questioned if you should get it. You giggled and tried your best to ignore the absurd price tag and brought it to the counter with you. You handed over Joel's credit card while the sales clerk carefully wrapped up both items in what you thought should be solid fucking gold given the price of everything in the store, then you were both on your way back to the hotel.

"Good use of an afternoon, if I do say so myself," Zoe said with an easy laugh. You had to agree, although for a different reason. For the first time all week, you felt like yourself again. The shame and the embarrassment didn't have room in your head while Zoe kept you entertained over lunch. You thought when it came time to shop for a dress with Joel's money, those feelings would come rushing back, but no. You felt confident and sexy and if Joel's reaction to your new acquisitions was half of Zoe's, you would finally have the upper hand.

By the time you arrived back to your room, you were feeling worlds better. You quietly shut the door behind you in case Joel was on a call and kicked off your strappy sandals before making your way into the living space. Joel turned around from the dining table to glance your way once before turning back to his laptop.

"Have fun?"

"Mhmm, thank you," you told him, sliding his card across the table. His eyes flickered from the card to your face to the wardrobe bag and small box in your hand.

"Found somethin' you liked?"

You grinned and nodded vigorously. "Very much."

Joel could pick up on your improved mood almost instantly and a wave of relief washed over him. He kept fucking things up with you, but that was no surprise. What was a surprise was how bad he felt when it became apparent you were hurt by something he did or said. He convinced himself it was all for the best, anyway. The more he pushed you away, the easier it would be.

"That's great," he said, eyes trailing after you as you walked towards your room. "Goin' to meet Glenn and the others for golf in a bit." He fucking hated golf, but he sucked it up to rub the right elbows. "You gonna be alright on your own for dinner?"

You glanced over your shoulder and nodded. "I think I'm just going to sit out by the pool and call it an early night. Didn't sleep too well."

You disappeared inside your bedroom and he focused back on his work. You must have went outside because it was so quiet, he became so engrossed in work that he nearly lost track of time. When the calendar reminder popped up on his phone, he quickly shut down his laptop and stood, gathering his things so he could run and get changed, but he only made it one step away from the table before he froze.

He swallowed thickly when he saw you sunbathing, which wasn't out of the ordinary but this time you had chosen to remove your bikini top completely, leaving it discarded in a pathetic little pile next to your chair. You were face down so he couldn't see anything except your perfect ass covered by a deep purple, barely there swimsuit bottom, but it was enough to send a rush of blood between his legs.

He had been doing so good. He forced himself into staying busy, staying away from you, because otherwise he knew it wouldn't take much to tear down what little defenses he had left, especially after that morning on the yacht. And now here you were, practically laid out on a silver platter for him once again while he fought with his inner demons.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, he began to move slowly down the hallway, the destination his bedroom but his eyes remained glued to the window at the end of the hall. He was within arms length of his room. If only he had moved just a hair faster because then he wouldn't have seen you sit up to get a drink of water. He wouldn't have seen the towel you had been laying on get stuck on the arm of the lounge chair. And he wouldn't have caught a quick but very revealing eye full of your bare chest.

"Shit," he whispered to himself as he continued to stare, feeling like a creep but still unable to move. You had quickly covered back up, unaware he had seen a thing as he stood cemented to the ground outside his bedroom, his cock uncomfortably hard. So hard that it made his stomach hurt.

He should have fucked you when he had the chance.

No, that would be wrong. You had no idea the type of man he was, and you deserved far better than him.

But maybe you would like him anyway.

He shook his head, muttering no under his breath as he tore his eyes away from you and slipped inside his bedroom.

He wouldn't fall for it. Not again.

"Glenn's daughter's name is Rose," Joel had told you in the car. He was forcing himself to stare out the window instead of your exposed leg in that slinky fucking dress that made him lightheaded the moment he first saw you in it. "His youngest. It's her first big exhibition as a curator. Supposed to be mostly abstract art from a local artist that's growin' a large following online."

You hadn't been to an art gallery since you were in high school. Art was never really an interest of yours and it was a topic you knew very little about, so you prayed nobody would try to test your knowledge at any point during the night.

When you first stepped into the modernist building, you had to take a moment to absorb your surroundings in awe.

The floor was a shiny, dark hardwood that contrasted nicely with the off white walls which held stunning paintings around the entire room. There was the occasional piece of furniture, a couple of chairs or a table, but the room was designed mostly with space for movement in mind.

The room itself appeared to have three or four partially closed off smaller rooms, most likely created that way so the artist could break up different sections of their collection. And most of the lighting came from the small spotlights hung directly above each wall so it allowed guests to view the works of art in the best possible light.

"This place is beautiful," you whispered so only Joel could hear. He had his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, hardly giving his surroundings a second glance when he had you looking like a piece of art right next to him.

"Hey, Miller," a deep voice said from behind, startling you both. Turning around, you tried to keep your face from falling when you were greeted by Scott and Tammy. Scott stretched out his arm and Joel reluctantly removed his grasp on you to shake his hand.

"Some place, huh?" Scott remarked, glancing around at the art while you and Tammy tried to avoid looking at one another.

"Yeah, seems like a really talented artist," Joel replied. Scott shrugged and made a face just as a young woman in her early twenties walked slowly past, all alone, and stopped in front of a blue and pink painting.

"Abstract ain't really my thing," he said, "I'll have to take your word for it." You frowned and looked around incredulously.

"Are you kidding?" you asked without even thinking. All three looked at you in surprise and the young woman nearby tilted her head to listen.

"What do you mean?" Tammy asked with an air of fake politeness.

"What I mean is this artist is extremely talented," you said, sweeping your arm out to your side to gesture to a wall of paintings. "Look at the way they used complimentary colors in each piece. Look at the texture. I don't know much about abstract art, either, but if you can't feel something when you look at these paintings, you probably should check your pulse."

The young woman smirked to herself and walked away while Scott and Tammy stared at you in surprise. The corner of Joel's mouth twitched and he ducked his chin into his chest.

"N-no, you're right," Scott stammered guiltily, taking another look around the room. "It's always good to broaden your horizons and try to find enjoyment in things you don't expect. Right, Tam?"

You smiled sweetly at them both as you felt Joel's hand slink around your waist again.

"Yes," Tammy hissed through her teeth. "Of course, you're right. Why don't we go admire the paintings that look like someone kicked a few cans of color over the canvas and called it a day?"

Scott's ears turned a little red and excused them both. While they walked away, you caught them angrily whispering to each other and you turned to smirk at Joel.

"Sorry," you told him. He just shook his head and steered you in the opposite direction.

"No, you ain't."

You giggled. "Yeah, you're right."

Then much to your surprise, he leaned over to kiss the top of your head. Before you had a chance to react, you were greeted by Glenn and Mary.

"Oh, there you are!" Mary exclaimed before wrapping her fingers around the shoulders of a beautiful blonde girl who appeared to be in her mid twenties. Her hair was brushed back into a neat, professional bun and she wore a white blouse with flowing sleeves and well fitting black slacks.

"This is our daughter, Rose," Mary beamed. You both eagerly shook her hand and introduced yourselves before you added, "This is such a lovely gallery, thank you for having us."

"Pleasure's all mine," she said with a wide grin. "Truthfully I was terrified only five people would show up."

You laughed and glanced quickly around the packed room. "Looks like it's a little more than five."

"And I'm so grateful," Rose said sincerely. "The artist is so talented that I would have felt horrible if we had a poor showing."

"Where is the artist, anyway?" Glenn asked.

"They have an anonymous persona, it's how they prefer it. Even online, no one knows their real name or what they look like. Took a while before they even trusted me enough to meet face to face," Rose explained with a smile and shrug. "Genius tends to bring along little quirks."

Shortly thereafter, someone else stole Rose's attention and with a quick wave to Glenn and Mary, Joel led you away to look at the art a little closer.

"So, what'dya think so far?" Joel asked, plucking two glasses of champagne from a serving tray before joining you in front of a pink and blue painting that caught your eye earlier. You thanked him softly for the drink and continued to stare at the painting.

"I'll be honest, I thought I would hate it but I think I'm in love," you joked. Joel chuckled and gestured to the painting with his glass.

"You like this one?"

You nodded and took a sip of champagne. "It reminds me of something," you said, tilting your head to the side, studying each stroke of blues, pinks and bits of white throughout the canvas. "I find it so peaceful to look at."

He nodded in agreement and inched a little closer to your side. "So it makes you feel somethin'."

You flushed and averted your eyes. "I hope that didn't embarrass you."

Joel shook his head. "'Course not. I liked it. I like when you stand your ground and speak your mind."

"Careful what you wish for," you chuckled. He grinned and let his eyes roam up and down your body for a moment before blowing a disbelieving puff of air past his lips and shaking his head.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?"

Butterflies erupted in your stomach and you wanted to kick yourself for being so weak for him.

"Thank you," you breathed, watching as his eyes continued to devour you. "I picked it out for you," you added a little nervously. His eyebrows shot up and you held your breath as he leaned in a little closer.

"That right?" he murmured, knuckles dragging gently down your arm and sending a shiver down your spine. "Thought 'bout me when you were tryin' on dresses? Wondered what I would like the most?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, eyelids growing heavy as you fell under his spell with ease. "And I got something else, too," you whispered, knowing full well you were pushing it, but you couldn't resist.

It took him a moment, but he figured out what you meant. You could see it in his eyes when they flickered down to your waist and then back up. They turned a shade darker and his jaw tensed, like he was physically trying to restrain himself.

"Careful," he warned lowly. The way he said it made you wonder if he was talking to you or himself.

"Or what?" you teased, cocking your head to the side playfully. He maintained his intense stare for another moment before dragging his gaze away and clearing his throat. His eyes found the painting again and he jutted his chin towards it.

"You really like it that much?"

You blinked, trying to keep up with the quick change in tone. At this point, you weren't sure why you were surprised anymore. Turning back to look at it, you nodded.

"Alright, then," Joel said firmly. "Excuse me."

You swiveled around and watched him weave his way through the crowd, making a beeline for Glenn, Mary, and Rose. You had to stifle your laugh when you realized what he was doing, but then you made eye contact with a set of dark brown, almost black eyes next to Rose and the smile slid right off your face.

Of course Brooks would be there. Why didn't you think of that sooner?

When you spun back around to give the painting one last look, you were surprised to find a young woman standing next to you admiring the painting, as well.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, then tucked a loose piece of brown hair behind her ear. The rest of her hair was pulled into a messy bun and she wore a midnight black suit with a matching tie.

"No need, I wasn't paying attention," you said sweetly. The pair of you stood in silence for a few minutes while the laughter and clinking glasses from the other guests occupied the air.

"Isn't this piece beautiful?" you asked her, trying to strike up a conversation. She grinned and shrugged.

"What do you find beautiful about it?"

You looked back at the painting, letting your gaze slide over the differing shades of blues, pinks, and whites.

"It's calming," you said. "I feel like I've seen it before but I can't pinpoint where."

The young woman nodded, urging you to continue.

You studied it a moment longer and then let out a dry chuckle. "You know, I'm gonna sound crazy, but there are these pink seashells in the ocean. My fiancé picked some up for me when we were swimming last week. It reminds me of the way they looked through the water, like the pink all distorted with the blue."

"That's exactly right."

You turned to her in surprise. "W-what do you mean?"

She stuck out her hand and you could see the beginnings of a tattoo running up her sleeve. "I'm Ellie. The artist."

"Oh, my god!" you practically exclaimed, covering your mouth before remembering your manners and shaking her hand, giving her your name. "You are incredibly talented," you told her, "and I swear I'm not just saying that."

"I know," she said, releasing your hand and shoving it back into her pants pocket. "I heard you defending me to that asshole and that overly botoxed wife of his. Thank you, by the way."

You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "You're so welcome." You looked back at the painting as you tried to calm your racing thoughts. "So the seashells on the ocean floor inspired this?"

"Yep," she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. "That one over there's palm trees in a tropical storm. The one next to it is all the different colored beach umbrellas at a resort. And the one all the way in the corner is -"

"Wait, let me guess."

Ellie smiled. "Okay."

You studied it for a minute, tapping your finger against you chin, deep in thought.

"Oh!" you said excitedly. "All the hibiscus flowers along the highway!"

She nodded with a look that told you she was impressed.

"How'd you tell?"

"We drove by them on our first day. You used greys at the bottom and bits of green in between, representing the bushes, right?"

"You got it," she said with a laugh.

"Wow," you breathed as you looked around at her paintings in a completely different light. "I know I sound like a broken record, but you're so talented. You truly have a gift."

"Thanks," Ellie said shyly. "I don't do good in crowds though, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone who I am."

"Promise," you said, giving her your pinky finger. She grinned and looped her finger around yours with a firm shake, and then her phone chimed in her pocket. She let you go and pulled it out, her expression unreadable.

"This painting just sold," she said softly, eyes slowly widening. "Shit, I'm sorry. I would've-"

"It's alright," you told her, glancing over your shoulder, but you couldn't spot Joel anywhere. "I think I know who bought it."

Ellie breathed a sigh of relief and put her phone away. "The fiancé?"

You nodded. "I should probably go thank him."

"Thank him for me, too," she joked. "It was great meeting you."

"Likewise," you said, giving her hand one more shake. "Good luck with the rest of the evening."

You weaved your way through the crowd, heading towards the back of the building where you last saw Joel. On your way, you caught Zoe's eye from across the room and waved, laughing when she fanned herself and gave you an exaggerated once over.

"Hi, honey," Glenn said when he spotted you walking by.

"Hi... have you seen Joel?" you asked, then Brooks piped up with an sinister smile.

"Think he went towards the bathrooms with Scott's wife," he told you, pretending to search his brain while his foot tapped restlessly against the wooden floor. Then he snapped his fingers as if struck with a great idea. "Tammy! That's her name, right?"

Your blood felt like fire in your veins and it must have shown because Brooks grinned and shot you a wink before you hurried off towards the back of the room.

The bathrooms were down a long hallway and around the bend. You walked as fast as you could without the sound of your heels causing someone to think you were running. As you approached the turn, you heard Joel's voice before you got a chance to see him. You couldn't hear what he said over your own heavy breathing, but his tone sounded surprised.

When you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks, unable to believe your eyes.

There, right in front of the men's bathroom, was Tammy. She was pressing her lips against Joel's with her long, fake fingernails raking through his hair. You were too stunned and just barely had a moment to process the shocked look on Joel's face, one where his eyes didn't even close and his brows furrowed in anger before he pushed her back and wiped his mouth with his hand.

Before he had a chance to say anything, someone shouted down the corridor, causing them both to swivel in your direction. It wasn't until you had almost closed in on them that you realized you were the one shouting.

"You fucking bitch!" you yelled, lunging forward, completely fueled by white hot rage. Joel's arms wrapped around you before you could hit her like you intended, but you did manage to get your fingers around a good chunk of her hair. She yelped and clawed at your wrist, begging you to let go, but you ignored her pleas. Instead, you shook her head back and forth like a dog and it wasn't until her hair-do was almost completely destroyed that you finally let go, but not before angrily kicking in her direction while Joel hauled you away.

"You fucking psycho!" she screeched, frantically trying to tame her hair as she stumbled against the wall. "Nothing even happened!"

"Stay away from my fucking fiancé or so help me, I'll undo a decade of plastic surgery in ten minutes," you sneered.

"Relax!" Joel told you sternly. He turned his attention to Tammy, who was catching her breath and looked like a dissolved mess. "Get outta here," he snapped, and just like that, she scurried into the women's room to try to fix her hair.

He released his grip around you and you immediately turned on him.

"What the fuck?" you seethed, jabbing a shaky finger into his chest. He held up his palms and shook his head.

"You saw it, I didn't kiss her back, I need you calm the fuck down right now."

You dragged in a deep, ragged breath but you were still driven by unbridled anger.

"You told me this was over," you said through clenched teeth. Joel grabbed your wrists but you shook him off and stepped back. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand propped on his hip.

"It is," he said calmly. "She was waitin' for me and - y'know what? I don't gotta explain anythin' to you," he glanced up and down the hallway before dropping his voice and towering over you, anger now radiating off him. "Do I gotta remind you this ain't real?"

Tears sprung up in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. "I don't care. Anyone could have come down this hallway and seen you, and then what? Huh? What if it was Glenn? What if it was fucking Scott?"

He knew you were right, but he just silently glared down at you, each of you breathing heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off.

"I'm leaving," you told him, gathering up your dress and straightening it out. "I'm so sick and tired of your fucking head games and I won't stay here and let you embarrass me any longer."

Something in his expression changed but you didn't linger long enough to find out what it was. You bunched up the skirt of your dress and quickly walked away, doing your best to move fast without breaking a heel. You heard Joel call your name but you ignored him, hellbent on disappearing into the crowd and getting away from him as fast as possible.

Something inside him broke when you said you were leaving. Something deep in his chest he didn't expect to feel, and suddenly he was overcome with an immense amount of guilt and shame. He needed to apologize. He needed to make things right.

Shit, did you mean you were leaving for good? Or just leaving the art gallery? Why did he keep saying the wrong fucking thing?

Panic coursed through his veins in seconds and he found himself rushing after you. He must have looked like a fool when he raced out of the hallway and back into the bustling gallery, head twisting around every which way as he desperately searched for a flash of your deep red dress, but all he saw was a sea of unrecognizable faces.

"Better keep an eye on that one."

Joel spun around, eyes wild, when he came face to face with Brooks.

"Which way did she go?" he asked. Brooks just grinned and casually swiped at his nose with a sniffle and Joel narrowed his eyes.

"Where?" he said, dropping his voice angrily. Brooks held up his hands and chuckled.

"Calm down," he warned, making the hairs on the back of Joel's neck stand up. "She looked like she was going towards the side exit. Looked pretty upset. Hope there's no trouble in paradise."

Something about the way Brooks said it gave Joel pause.

"No," Joel said, eyes flickering towards the door, "We're fine. She just wanted to head back to the hotel."

Brooks nodded and rubbed at his chin. "That's a relief. I'd hate for someone to come along and snatch her up from you."

"What did you just say?" Joel asked, taking a menacing step forward before catching himself. What the fuck did that mean?

"C'mon, you know what I mean," he replied, nudging Joel's shoulder good naturedly as if he were in on some joke. Joel clenched his teeth and tried to refrain from doing something stupid, and if he wasn't Glenn's son, he might not have held back. "Girl like that needs to be taken care of."

"I take care of her just fine," Joel said defensively, and as much as he wished he could figure out exactly what Brooks thought he knew, he didn't have time to waste. "Tell your parents she wasn't feelin' well and we had to leave."

Before Joel stepped away, Brooks winked and gave him a thumbs up. "Sure thing, man."

He hurried through the crowd, a chorus of excuse mes being uttered from his lips every other second until he finally reached the door.

The moment he stepped outside he was hit with the tropical humidity he had somehow grown accustomed to in the past two weeks, but also finally found some quiet.

He took a moment to take a few deep breaths and look around. When he spotted you further down the street with your arms wrapped around your middle and your dress fluttering in the night breeze, he breathed a sigh of relief.

You were waiting for the car to pull around with your chin tucked into your chest and he swore if he had made you cry again he would never forgive himself. But when you heard him approach and lifted your head, he didn't see tears. Instead, he saw disappointment mixed with anger.

He couldn't decide which made him feel worse.

"I'm sorry," he tried, but you shook your head as the car pulled up to the curb. He tried to reach out and open the door for you but you didn't allow it, so he hurried around to the other side of the car and slid into the seat next you.

Once the driver pulled out onto the street, he readjusted himself in his seat and turned to look at you.

"Not here," you said coldly before he could speak, gaze pinned to your window. He clamped his mouth shut and sat back. It was smart. He couldn't risk the driver overhearing something and spreading rumors, so instead he focused on what he was going to say to you to make things right once you were back in the room.

I'm sorry, she doesn't mean anything.

Would that imply you do mean something to him? Of course, you did, but he couldn't share that with you. Not after he just told you twenty minutes prior what you had wasn't real.

I'm sorry, this situation is more complicated than you thought.

Somehow he thought that wouldn't go over well.

He knew what he should really say but he couldn't bring himself to do it. I'm sorry for confusing you and leading you on. I can't help myself, I'm weak.

So instead, he settled on I'm sorry, you were right. If someone else saw, it would have ruined everything.

That is exactly what he said to you once the hotel room door finally closed behind you and you kicked off your heels, snatching them up in your hand and storming into the living room.

"Yeah, no shit," you muttered over your shoulder.

"C'mon, you know what you saw," he pleaded, "you know she took me by surprise when I was comin' outta the bathroom. I had nothin' to do with it. I told you it was over and it is, I don't know why-"

"Good question, Joel," you said, spinning around to pin him with a glare. "Why did she think she could do that? Hm?"

Joel shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Alright, let me ask you this," you said, dropping your shoes to the floor and perching against the dining room table. "What did she say to you on the yacht?"

"When?"

"You know damn well when," you snapped. You were getting too fed up now to play nice and it felt liberating to have that side of you back once again. You don't let people steamroll you. "When she followed you inside that day before the island dinner. When you told me, I only need to know what you say I need to know. Well, Joel, I need to know. So fucking tell me. What'd she say?"

His nostrils flared when he took a deep breath. People didn't talk to him like that. If it were anyone else, he would send them packing without a second thought, and maybe with a few choice words in return. But you? He couldn't do it. He couldn't stomach the thought of losing you.

"Fine," he grumbled, yanking out a chair at the table next to where you were standing and collapsing into it. He tugged at his tie, loosening the knot so it hung wide at his neck, then unfastened the top two buttons of his dress shirt before he spoke.

"She was surprised to hear 'bout our engagement. Wondered why I didn't warn her. Asked if we're happy. Usual beatin' 'round the bush shit."

You quirked an eyebrow and crossed your ankles. "What do you mean, beat around the bush? What was she really asking about?"

He raked his fingers through his hair and shrugged. "Y'know. Lookin' to see if I was interested in meetin' up with her during the stay."

"And what did you say?"

He rolled his eyes and gave you a disbelieving look. "The hell you think I said? No. I fuckin' said no."

"And she still kissed you after you said no on the yacht?"

"Yeah," he replied, crossing his arms and glancing up at you. "Think you ruffled her feathers a bit. Got her jealous."

You scoffed and looked away but secretly you found a sick sense of satisfaction from it.

"Happy now?" he asked after the silence dragged on a moment too long for his liking.

"Thrilled," you said sarcastically. You clasped your hands together in front of you and stared down at the floor. He watched you for another minute, feeling the energy in the room begin to shift back to normal, and he smirked to himself.

"What?"

"Never had two women fight over me before," he said with a wide smile, one which he tried to cover with his palm when he dragged his hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, well," you murmured, fiddling with your ring, "I would have wrecked her if you didn't stop me."

"I got no doubt," he replied, his hand dropping to find your exposed knee. Now that you seemed less pissed, his focus was being drawn back to you wearing that dress just for him. And then he remembered your earlier comment and it took every ounce of restraint not to slide his hand up your thigh and under your skirt to see what else you had on.

"We were havin' such a nice time 'fore all that happened," he murmured, his gaze wandering up and down your leg and you felt yourself begin to soften. "Think you were sayin' you bought more than just the dress, hm?"

Goddamnit, how did he do it? How did he manage to pull every emotion out of you in just one evening?

"You wanna see?" you asked, hoping he didn't hear the tremor in your voice or notice the way your legs fell open a fraction more.

He lifted an eyebrow and smirked, gaze still fixed on your bare leg while his hand began to migrate further past your knee.

Yes, he wanted to say. Yes, please show me. Let me see all of you. But he caught himself and his hand stilled.

"Why don't you just tell me, instead?"

"Or you could just move your hand a few more inches and find out for yourself," you teased, spreading your thighs a little more. His fingers pressed into your skin and you saw him swallow.

"Can't, y'know that."

You let out a frustrated huff and pushed yourself off the table, away from him.

"You're confusing the fuck out of me, Joel! One second you're all over me and the next you're pushing me away. And don't try to tell me it's all for show. You do this shit all the time."

You marched into the living room and plopped down onto one of the couches. You were fucking tired. Tired from the rollercoaster evening, tired from Joel's mixed signals, tired from everything.

He stood up with a groan and followed you to the living room, raking his fingers through his hair as he moved.

"I'm tryin' to protect you," he snapped, startling you. "I don't fuckin' trust myself 'round you, don't you see that? Don't you see what you're doin' to me?"

His fingers twitched at his sides as he stood in front of you, imploring you to understand with a pained look on his face.

"Then why are you fighting it?" you whined, standing up. As you approached you saw his shoulders stiffen, but he didn't move away. "Why can't we-"

"'Cause I ain't a good man, darlin'," he said sadly, gaze dropping to the floor. "You deserve so much better."

"But I like you," you told him softly, reaching out and taking his hand. You brought it up to cup your face while a war waged behind his eyes. "I refuse to believe you're not a good man, Joel."

You turned so you could press a kiss into the palm of his hand, then slowly guided his arm lower, all the while staring him right in the eye until his fingertips brushed against the slit in your dress. Your breath hitched as you led him lower, underneath the material until his fingers finally came in contact with the silky red panties trimmed with black lace.

"Fuck," he whispered, cheeks tinting pink and eyes all wide and dark when he felt the wet patch that had seeped through. After that, he couldn't stop himself. "Dirty fuckin' girl," he growled, taking a step closer so he could tower over you while two thick fingers pressed and stroked steadily over your panties. A breathy moan slipped past your lips and you released his arm so you could grab onto his shoulders for support. Joel wrapped his other arm around your waist and walked you back towards the sofa, all the while staring down at you like he was a predator who finally caught their prey.

You thought he would have laid you down but to your surprise, he twisted you both around at the last second and sat down on the couch, legs spread wide. He removed his hand from between your legs and you were about to protest when you heard the deafening tear of fabric. You gasped and looked down to see Joel had torn your brand new fucking dress from the slit up, exposing half your stomach.

"What the f-" you were about to scold him and tell him how much you liked that goddamn dress when he grabbed you by the hips and yanked you forward so he could bury his face against your clothed pussy. Your eyes bugged out of your head and you grabbed his hair to keep you steady, your shaky legs no longer able to be trusted. And when he took a deep, steady breath in through his nose, your face flushed with heat while staining the red satin of your underwear even darker.

"You smell so fuckin' good," he groaned before taking another deep breath. "Bet you taste even better."

"Jesus Christ," you whimpered, your fingers getting tangled in his hair. "Please, Joel, please..."

"Sit on my lap," he demanded, tearing himself away and leaning back into the couch. He slapped the tops of his thighs and ushered you forward with his fingers.

On shaky legs, you obeyed, spreading them wide so you could rest them on either side of his thighs. He stretched up to latch his mouth onto the hollow part underneath your jaw while his fingers resumed their torturous pace over your center.

"You're right, these were made to be seen," he murmured against your throat. Your hips began to rock, encouraging him to keep going with each little sound from the back of your throat. "Got these just for me, huh? Wanted me to see 'em?"

"Yeah," you whined, arms circling around his neck and jaw falling open as he brought you closer and closer to your climax without still having actually touched you.

"What'd you want me to do, baby?" he asked softly. Your breath was growing shallow and the noises you were making were getting louder and he smirked, knowing you were close from just a few minutes of petting you through your clothes. If this is how responsive you were from just his fingers, he couldn't fucking wait to take you apart with his cock. "Tell me. Did'ya want me to bend you over the table?"

You nodded and gasped when his fingers began to move faster. "Everywhere. In the car. At the art gallery. In the fucking elevator... fuck, Joel!"

His cock swelled in his pants, the material already too unforgiving and tight, when you came shouting his name. A shudder ran through your body when you slumped forward to rest your head on his shoulder, but unfortunately he didn't give you the courtesy of recovery because in an instant, he hooked the material of your underwear to the side and two fingers slid right into your soaked cunt.

You weren't sure who groaned louder, you or Joel, but it felt like both of you were equally desperate.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, sweat dotting your forehead and upper lip from the welcome intrusion his fingers caused. You forced yourself to straighten back up so you could grab his face with both hands and slant your mouth eagerly over his. His tongue immediately invaded your mouth and his wrist began to snap between your legs, causing your mind to go numb as you focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.

"Joel," you moaned in between biting at his lower lip. "I don't think I can come again."

"Yes, you fuckin' will," he said roughly. His free hand, which was clutching your hip, began to guide you up and down on his fingers. "You wanted me so bad and now you're tellin' me you can't come again? Gimme what I want and maybe I'll give you what you want."

You nodded dumbly and followed his lead, rolling your hips and then bouncing on his lap until you found what worked and you felt that familiar warmth building low in your stomach again.

"Keep going, just like that," you panted against his lips. He nodded, eyes so dark they looked black as he stared up at you. Your eyes were squeezed shut, too focused on chasing your high to see the way he was looking at you. It was probably for the best because he was fairly certain you would be able to see right through him in that moment and it scared the shit out of him.

"Oh, fuck, baby, that's it," he breathed, pulling you closer so he could hide his face against your throat. He could feel you tightening around his fingers and your nails were digging into his shoulders, the bite of pain sending shivers down his spine. Your moans grew more high pitched and your skin felt hot to the touch. He leaned forward on the couch and, circling his other arm around your waist, tugged you as close as possible while using the force from his entire body to thrust his fingers as deep as he could into your cunt, curling them inside you each time he retracted his hand.

"Oh, god, Joel," you whined breathlessly, stomach tensing the closer you came to your orgasm. "I think... I think I'm gonna-"

You cut yourself off with a shaky moan when you came for the second time, your entire body pulsing in his arms as your orgasm shot through you violently, taking every shred of energy you had left.

You murmured softly against his neck when he eventually dragged his fingers out of you. Your eye cracked open just in time to see him pop both fingers into his mouth and hum appreciatively to himself while still holding you close against his chest.

"You alright?" he asked before kissing the top of your head.

"You ruined my dress," you whispered sleepily. He chuckled, the vibrations from his chest melting into yours, making you smile.

"It's not funny. It was over a thousand dollars."

"Money well spent," he replied before tipping the back of his head against the couch with a deep sigh. He was still painfully hard but you were too weak and tired to do anything about it. He maneuvered you so your legs were no longer spread open on his lap, then hooked an arm underneath your knees. With his other arm around your shoulders, he stood with a groan and began to carry you down the hall.

Your own arms were still wrapped tightly around his neck and once he approached the bedrooms, you opened your eyes to see which room he would pick. It didn't surprise you when he turned into your room but you were too tired to really care.

"You oughta change outta this dress," he murmured as he laid you down in bed.

"Mhmm, I will," you promised, then smiled when he brushed your hair out of your eyes and kissed your forehead.

"Get some sleep," he said, and just as he was about to step back into the hall, you called out his name. He spun around, the sight of you spread out over your bed, all fucked out in a torn up dress giving him pause before he cleared his throat and responded.

"Yeah?"

"You better not fucking tip me this time."

You giggled when you saw the grin on his face and he shook his head in disbelief.

"'Night."

"Good night."

Once he left, you slipped out of the dress but you couldn't bring yourself to throw it out, so you zipped it back up in it's bag and tucked it into the back of your closet before drifting off and feeling the calmest you ever felt.

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us au #swept away fic #joel miller smut

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solbaby7 · 7 months

Note

I loved Blurred Lines!! Do you think you’d ever want to do a part 2 for when Rhys shows up? 👀 👀🔥

[ part one ]

Rhysand hears you before he see’s you.

Unhinged shouts and the rhythmic smacking of skin on skin pulling him closer, beckoning him inside. The concealed safe house reeks of sex, clothes scattered around the floor from the moment he walks in; chairs are tipped over, rugs askew and there’s a dent on the hallway wall.

He doesn’t bother calling out for you, certain that you probably wouldn’t hear him anyway through the drug-induced haze. The traces of it lingers in your scent, spiking sweet honey and brown sugar with strong notes of spicy cinnamon that settles thick in his throat. “Swear, I can take it, Az.” Desperate whines and choppy breaths coupled with deep grunts and a husky swear at the sound of your plea. “Just a little harder.”

Rhys knew it shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. The blood that rushed between his legs at the sound of Azriel complying, doing everything you’d asked for and more. Neither of you even notice him, shadows too distracted in squeezing at heaving breasts and gliding up the length of your neck. A soothing cool to combat the overwhelming heat that Azriel had spent hours trying to quench.

It would work for a little while before the need grew again, demanding more tongue and teeth biting into your shoulders. Blazing for the harsh grip of Azriel’s hands on your hips as his cock nudged in as far as your body allowed. “Rhys will be here soon,” He’d mutter into the shell of your ear when you’d clench around him, hips stuttering and tears streaming down your cheeks from the sensitivity of yet another orgasm.

And yet, still your body commanded more.

“It won’t stop,” Sweat beads at your hairline, hair tangled and lips swollen as your body holds onto Azriel like a lifeline. Filthy sounds squelch between where you begin and he ends, arousal dripping like a leaky faucet. “Why won’t it stop?”

“Rhys,” Azriel sighs in relief when the High Lord comes into view, exhaustion evident in tousled inky hair and droopy lids but he’s too lost in the feeling to stop. The spymasters wings are splayed out behind him as your hands wander freely along the leathery texture, hips rocking and tongue dragging along the side of his neck. “You’re here.”

Rhysand nods once, easing you off and into his arms. You find instant relief with his touch, face buried in his neck as he guides you into the bathroom. The water in the tub had long since ran cold and yet it’s perfectly warm when he rests you inside. “Took you long enough,” You whisper weakly, voice raspy from overuse. “I nearly broke him.”

His jaw clenched, unreasonable jealously tickling at the edge of his mind at the sight of Azriel’s marks on you. “I can see that,” Rhys pushes damp hair from your face, cupping at flushed cheeks to stare into your eyes. At the bright specks the shade of lavender dotting the iris, a stark contrast from pupils blown with lust. “Amren said it sounds like you were drugged with a strong mix of herbs; mostly meant to disorient but a natural side-affect is debilitating arousal.”

“She say how long it’ll last?”

Rhys grimaces slightly, hesitating before answering. “Depending on how much you ingested? Roughly a few hours, possibly less.”

Your heart plummets. So much time had already passed. How much more could you possibly endure?

More. More. More.

Every bone in your body screams as you watch the High Lord undress, exposing sun-kissed skin and mouth-watering tattoos. The water trickles when your thighs shift, searching for friction as a fresh wave of need rises. “In that case,” Your hand trails down beneath the water, hyperaware of the violet stare tracking every move. “I hope you brought your stamina.”

He’s quick to join you in the tub—even quicker when he tugs you on top of him, pressing claiming kisses to your mouth and he slides in with ease, hushed curses falling from full lips from the near unbearable heat of your cunt. “It’s not my stamina you should be worried about,” Rhysand’s deliberate in the way he slowly lifts you off him, watching more of his length come into view until only the fat tip of his cock is inside. “I’ll spend all night fucking the smell of him off you if I must.”

#acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x you #acotar #azriel #high lord rhysand #acotar azriel #rhys x reader smut #rhysand smut #high lord of the night court #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar

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jaysng · 1 month

Text

sassy — park jongseong

pairing: husband!jay x wife!reader

genre: fluff, crack

synopsis: jay trying to re-gain his dramaqueen daughter’s attention after she got mad at him.

the kitchen was filled with the sweet scent of vanilla and sugar, mixing perfectly with the soft hum of the oven. you glanced over at your daughter, who stood on a small stool next to you, her tiny hands busy rolling cookie dough into little balls. her brows were furrowed in concentration, but there was no hiding the little pout that had settled on her lips ever since jay had told her she couldn’t help him earlier.

jay stood a few steps behind, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he watched the two of you. “princess,” he started softly, trying to catch her attention, “i’m sorry, okay? daddy just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

she ignored him, huffing dramatically as she placed another cookie on the baking sheet. “mommy says i can help her,” she said, her voice holding that unmistakable sass she’d developed lately.

you stifled a laugh, not wanting to encourage her but also finding the whole situation too adorable. “she’s right, you know,” you said, glancing over at jay with a small smile. “i’m keeping her away from the hot stuff.”

jay sighed, knowing he was going to have to work harder to win back his little girl’s favor. “i know, i know,” he mumbled, stepping closer. “but can daddy at least help now? i miss baking with my favorite girls.”

his daughter finally looked up at him, her big eyes narrowing as if she was considering his request. after a moment, she sighed, crossing her little arms over her chest. “only if you say sorry again,” she demanded, her tiny voice serious.

“i’m really, really sorry,” jay said, kneeling down to her level. “i promise next time i’ll let you help more. deal?”

she seemed to think about it for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “deal,” she agreed, reaching out to pat his cheek like she’d seen you do countless times.

jay couldn’t help but grin, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead before standing up. “thank you, princess,” he said, feeling a wave of relief wash over him.

the three of you continued baking, your daughter’s earlier grumpiness completely forgotten as she giggled and chatted with both of you, her mood lifting with each cookie she helped make. jay couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the clock every now and then, knowing that 8 pm was just around the corner. it was their special time, and he needed it more than anything.

as the last batch of cookies went into the oven, you caught jay looking at the clock again. “don’t worry,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “you’ll get your cuddle time.”

he smiled sheepishly, feeling a little silly for being so anxious about it. “i just… i don’t want to miss it,” he admitted.

you reached out, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “you won’t,” you promised, your eyes warm and understanding. “and i’m sure she’s looking forward to it just as much as you are.”

sure enough, as the clock struck 8, your daughter was already climbing onto the couch, her small frame getting comfortable among the pillows. jay quickly followed, scooping her up into his arms and settling down beside her. she snuggled up against him, her earlier sass completely replaced by the soft, sleepy demeanor that always appeared around this time.

you watched them with a smile, feeling your heart swell at the sight of the two most important people in your life. jay met your gaze, his eyes full of love and contentment as he wrapped his arm around his little girl. “come join us,” he whispered, patting the spot next to him.

you didn’t need any more convincing, slipping onto the couch and nestling in beside them. your daughter yawned, her eyelids already drooping as she mumbled something about cartoons. jay reached for the remote, putting on her favorite show, but it didn’t take long before her breathing evened out, the steady rise and fall of her chest signaling that she was fast asleep.

jay sighed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “thanks for letting me make it up to her,” he whispered to you, his voice filled with gratitude.

“you’re a great dad,” you whispered back, leaning your head against his shoulder. “she just likes to remind you who’s really in charge sometimes.”

he chuckled softly, knowing you were right. “yeah, she’s definitely got your spirit.”

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you teased, closing your eyes as the warmth of the moment wrapped around you like a blanket.

the three of you stayed like that, cuddled up on the couch, the soft glow of the television casting a gentle light over the room. and in that quiet, peaceful moment, jay couldn’t imagine anything better.

do not copy or reblog my work — @/jaysng

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enha #enhypen smut #park jongseong #jay fluff #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen jay #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts

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mariacallous · 9 months

Text

"How should anything be sacred to an advertiser?" demanded Ingleby, helping himself to four lumps of sugar. "We spend our whole time asking intimate questions of perfect strangers and it naturally blunts our finer feelings. 'Mother! has your Child Learnt Regular Habits?' 'Are you Troubled with Fullness after Eating?' 'Are you Satisfied about your Drains?' 'Are you Sure that your Toilet-Paper is Gem-free?' 'Your most Intimate Friends dare not Ask you this Question.' 'Do you Suffer from Superfluous Hair?' 'Do you Like Them to Look at your Hands?' 'Do you ever ask yourself about Body-Odour?' 'If anything Happened to You, would your Loved Ones be Safe?' 'Why Spend so much Time in the Kitchen?' 'You think that Carpet is Clean - but is it?' 'Are you a Martyr to Dandruff?' Upon my soul, I sometimes wonder why the long-suffering public don't rise up and slay us."

Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L. Sayers

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whore-era · 1 year

Text

1-800-GIRLS - part 2

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes her favorite phone sex hotline operator out on their first date! ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, interactions with men, dirty talking/praise, fingering (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames, slight mention of petplay, let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: back by popular demand, and to thank you all for 1k. i love u all from the bottom of my heart. thank u all so so so much. also there will be NO PART 3! s/o to my girl @clearheartgreyflowers for staying up w me til 3am writing smut LMAO ☁︎ word count: 5,124 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 1

thursday, 1:15am → ongoing call with sir steven (ft. lauderdale, FL)

sir steven (client): thank you, sugar. did good as always, pretty lady.

sugar: no problem, sir.

sir steven (client): have a good night, darlin'. good night.

the line clicks on the other end, and you finally let out a big stretch, able to relax as you close the hotline for the night. you made 13 calls tonight, which usually wouldn't be enough to help with bills, but much to your dismay, ellie had been sending you money nonstop.

it's been a couple of weeks since you first met her in the library, and since then, you've seen each other here and there, most of your communication being made through texts and calls, as you both have been extremely busy with final exams and work. barely getting any real time to spend together besides having lunch together or walking to class when the time allows it.

however, ever since you revealed to ellie your real name and gave her your personal phone number, she's been using it to her advantage — sending you money through applepay/paypal, paying for food to get delivered to your apartment when you tell her you haven't ate that day, or getting uber's or taxis to pick you up when she wasn't able to come get you herself.

she was very persistent in being your provider, insisting that with her income, she could support you full-time and buy you everything you needed and more.

but you didn't have it in you to just quit this hotline gig. you didn't want to feel like you had to rely on ellie, and the last thing you wanted was to burden her with your own issues.

thursday, 1:30am → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

you: ellie...?

ellie: hi baby.

you: why are you calling the hotline? you have my number, silly.

ellie: what? can't check in on my girl?

you couldn't help the flush in your cheeks. ellie never failed to make you blush. she always made a point to flirt, hard, and you both weren't even in a relationship, yet.

you: what can i do for my favorite client?

ellie: hm, how does going out with me on saturday night sound?

you: like...a date?

ellie: yeah, don't you think we're a bit overdue for one?

you: sure! what should i wear?

ellie: 's up to you. you make anything look beautiful.

you hated how easily she made the heat rise to your cheeks.

ellie: are you blushing?

you: ....no.

ellie: liar. just for that, you owe me a kiss on our date.

you: hm, we'll see.

ellie: guess we will.

saturday couldn't have arrived any faster, and by the time you knew it, it was 6:00 in the evening, almost time for your first date with ellie.

you couldn't make up your mind on what to wear, trying on different outfit combinations, determining which one you think ellie would like more.

groaning in frustration, you seemingly settled on a baby blue dress, with a light and warm cardigan. the weather was absolutely perfect for this type of outfit, not too hot with just the slightest breeze.

as you touched up your makeup, swiping on your favorite gloss, you couldn't seem to calm the nerves boiling in your belly. what was there to be nervous about? you were going on a date with one of the coolest and prettiest girls you have ever seen in your life.

overthinking every possible worst-case scenario that could happen tonight, you took some deep breaths, shaking off the images of you possibly falling on your face, snorting while you laugh, or accidentally passing gas in front of ellie. oh god, if that were to happen tonight, you didn't think you could ever face her again.

you would have to change jobs. and schools.

"god, jesus, whoever, please have my back tonight," you whisper to yourself, suddenly jumping at the small 'ping' coming from your phone.

unlocking your phone, you see it's a text from ellie:

ellie <3: I'm on my way up baby, u ready?

you: yes! i'm ready hehe

you take the time to lace your shoes at the front door, giving yourself a quick one-over in the mirror to see if you were presentable, at the least.

two soft knocks on the door resonated through your apartment, and you took a deep breath as you unlocked the latch, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

swinging the door open, you're greeted by the tall, emerald-eyed girl.

"hey, baby," she greets, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek, "you look gorgeous."

your eyes fell to the ground, cheeks flushing with crimson. get ahold of yourself. you're acting like a teenage girl with a puppy-love crush, you echoed in your mind.

"thanks, els. you look pretty cute too," you compliment shyly, looking down at her fit — a white shirt complimented with a red flannel and dark-washed jeans. of course, hair styled in her signature half-up ponytail and sporting her white and black converse sneakers.

"ready to go?"

"yeah, let's go ahead."

"cool, just parked over here in the parking lot."

taking hold of your hand, the two of you head out to the parking lot, and she takes the lead in guiding you to her car. her hands felt warm and clammy— and you wondered if ellie was feeling just as nervous as you were.

and she was.

ellie was freaking the fuck out. from the outside, you appeared calm and relaxed, which put her at unease. were you not excited to be going out with her? were you going to like what she planned for tonight? what if you absolutely hated the date she organized? it'd tear ellie's heart to pieces.

but ellie couldn't overthink, especially not right now. she couldn't let her emotions get the best of her, and she only had to think of the present — you.

ellie fished out her keys from her pocket, briefly letting go of your hand to unlock the car and open the passenger side door for you.

getting inside, you mumbled a quick 'thank you'. as ellie scurried to the driver's side of the car, you scanned your eyes around the interior of her car.

what the hell? was she driving a...dodge hellcat? you knew ellie drove, but you didn't know she drove such an expensive muscle car. how much money did she make being a dealer?

her car smelled just like her, fresh and musky, and she kept it fairly clean.

ellie piled in the driver's seat of her car, putting the key in the ignition and turned on the engine.

"soooo, where are we going?" you queried.

"that's a surprise," ellie smirks, and suddenly she places her hand behind the head of your seat, turning her neck to look at the rear windshield as she backed out of the parking spot.

you swallowed thickly, focused primarily on how hot she looked doing something as simple and elementary as reversing her car. the way her neck flexed, the way her arm tattoo looked by your face, and the way she was concentrated on moving the vehicle — suddenly turned the heat up in this confined space.

"you okay? you look a bit warm," ellie asks, interrupting your train of thought.

"huh? yeah, no, i-i'm okay," you smile meekly, "it's j-just a little warm in here."

"oh, sorry," her hands went to turn on the air conditioning, the gentle breeze of cool air providing relief, "there you go. better?"

you nod, "much better, thanks."

"wanna play some music?" she asks, holding her phone up.

"hmm, you can put whatever you want on. i wanna see what type of music you're into."

"okay," ellie says with a wide smile, "suit yourself."

approaching a stop light, ellie uses the window of opportunity to tap away on her phone, searching for her favorite song. the song 'the spins' by mac miller plays throughout the car at a mellow volume.

"great taste. i love this song," you chime.

"yeah? me too," ellie states, "i loved mac miller since like, forever."

eyes gravitating towards ellie, you couldn't help but get lost in a daze at the way she drives, the slight spread in her legs, one hand on the wheel, the stray strand of hair that falls in her face — she was dangerous.

and ellie could feel the burning gaze you were searing on the side of her face, "you okay there?"

"hmm?"

"you keep staring at me."

"oh— uh— i'm sorry. i didn't mean to—" you sputtered, ashamed that you'd been caught red-handed.

"it's fine, baby, no worries. just wanted to know if there was anything on your mind was all," ellie briefly tears her eyes away from the road to check on you.

you had to quickly think of an excuse, something to save you from this embarrassment — "just thinking of where we're going."

the girl chuckles, "well, we're already here."

the neon lights were the first thing that caught your attention, then the rapidly moving contraptions, and lastly the laughter from the crowds of people.

"we're at the carnival?!" you squealed, unable to contain your excitement.

"yea," ellie muttered sheepishly, "uh— i saw on your instagram how you shared the posts about wanting to go on your story, so i-"

you cut her off with a forceful hug, "oh my god! ellie! we have to get out now! let's go, let's go, let's go!!"

"alright, baby, let me put the car in park-" she began, but you were already halfway down the entrance.

"wow! ellie! that one was so fun! it was exhilarating!" you breathed out, fueled by the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins after riding the 'slingshot' rollercoaster.

ellie couldn't be any more amused, smiling down at you, "yeah? you liked that one, babe?"

"yes! i loved it!" you squealed, but as the adrenaline wavered, you began to feel that familiar rumble in your stomach, "it did give me an appetite, though."

"wanna get a little something to eat?" ellie's hand is securely interlaced with yours, guiding you towards the various food stands.

you nod, "mhm, i am starved."

"just tell me what you want, and i'll get it for you, m'kay?" she gives you a smile and squeezes your hand as your eyes scan the numerous items to choose from.

corndogs. cotton candy. kettle corn. pretzels. chilli cheese hot dogs. funnel cake.

"hmmm, i think i want some funnel cake," you suggest, "we can share it."

"sounds good to me," ellie shrugs and you both fall in line. she orders and pays for the sweet treat and the worker hands her the food, as you find a vacant picnic table to sit at.

digging into the crispy, creamy treat, you couldn't hold back the moan of delight that came from your mouth.

"oh my god! this is amazing!" you moan, whip cream getting all over your lips.

ellie was too busy hyper-fixating on the cream that sat on your lip, and before thinking about anything else, she swiped it off your bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean.

"mmm, delicious," she commented, then consumed the dessert as if nothing had happened.

leaving you stunned, you gulped the cup of water she gave you, attempting to soothe the heat seeping down below.

"so, which ride do you wanna get on next?" ellie spooned more of the funnel cake in her mouth, looking up at you, awaiting your response.

"not sure, why don't you choose? i picked the last one after all," you clean your spoon off, getting every last bit of leftover ice cream.

"we can ride theeee..." ellie scours the carnival rides, "...the haunted hospital."

your heart fell to your stomach, you hated anything related to horror.

"oh no..ellie, i don't think i'll be able to ride that—"

"are you scared?" she taunts in a playful tone.

"yes. i'd be covering my eyes the entire time, el."

"good thing you have me with you, i'll fight anyone who gets too close to you. promise."

"fine."

when you both finish the funnel cake, you quickly discard it and ellie rushes you over to the line to the haunted attraction, but as the line goes by quicker than you anticipated, the fear began to set in deeper and deeper.

"ellie, i'm scared," you whisper as you both approach the front of the line, watching the people in front of you climb into the little mechanical car and disappear into the darkness.

"hey, i'm here, baby," she coos, rubbing your back, "besides, it's all fake, okay? 's not real."

and on cue, the attendant calls you both up, "next!"

walking slowly towards the black cart, you get on first and take a seat, with ellie following closely behind you.

"alright, hands up," the attendant commands as the handlebars latch down and lock onto your lap, "keep your hands and feet in the cart at all times. have fun."

as the cart begins to move forward and ascend into blackness, you curl into ellie's body and her arm instinctively wraps around your body, holding you tight.

this is exactly where ellie wanted you, up close and personal. she wanted an excuse to hold you all night, and after seeing the 'haunted hospital' sign, she knew this ride was the perfect place to do that.

your heart was pumping in and out of your chest, preparing for the worse to pop out and jump-scare you.

"ugh, i can't look," you stammer, covering your eyes. ellie takes hold of your wrists, gently taking them away from your face.

"hey, just focus on me, okay?" ellie whispers, her hot breath fanning in your face, "it's just me and you."

"o-okay."

and the fear that took habitat in your belly faded away, your mind zeroed in on ellie and how close she was to you. if you even breathed too hard, you probably would’ve accidentally kissed her.

but luckily for you, ellie was five steps ahead.

she reached her hand out to cup your cheek, resting it on the soft, warm skin of your face.

"can i kiss you?" ellie asked, her mouth taking over her brain, but she didn't mind it. she wanted to kiss you. she's been wanting to kiss you ever since she heard your voice that night she accidentally called you.

“please. please, kiss me.”

leaning in, ellie pressed her lips on yours, her other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you in closer. her lips were soft and inviting, and they tasted sweet — they were definitely a good distraction from the horror props popping out at different intervals.

her lips leave subtle pecks along your lips, enamored by how your lips tasted, and how it left her wanting more.

ellie pulls away, inciting a small whimper from you, “the ride’s about to end, babe.”

“hmph, okay,” you pout and ellie pecks your lips again.

“we’ll have plenty of time to continue later,” she reassures you with a laugh. as the both of you emerge into the light, back to the entrance of the attraction, you notice your lipgloss smeared all over her lips, eliciting a small giggle from you.

“what’s so funny?”

you point to her lips, and her eyes dart down to her face, using her sleeves to wipe off the pink gloss from her mouth as you both get off the ride.

you smile sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you both stroll around the carnival, “sorry, that was my fault.”

ellie smiles and shakes her head, “don’t worry ‘bout it,” she says coolly, “hey, let’s go over there. there’s no line.”

pointing to an attraction behind you, you turn around and follow her trail, your eyes settling on the ferris wheel.

hand in hand, you both get on the little capsule of the ferris wheel, the employee holding it sturdy so you and ellie would have time to climb in.

they latched the door closed and you both begin the slow, upward descent.

“wow, the view is beautiful,” you breathe out, astounded by how pretty the lights looked in the city as you towered over the area below.

“yeah, the view certainly is beautiful, huh?” ellie murmured, but she wasn’t staring at the view. her eyes were on you, taking in how breathtaking you looked in this moment — eyes glimmering in amusement, perfect, plump lips slightly parted, and hair a bit messy from the breeze, but framing your face in all the right places. she took her phone out, snapping a quick picture, never wanting to forget this moment.

she moved seats, before, sitting on the bench facing you, and now sitting right beside you.

“uh, there’s something i have to tell you,” ellie began, her nerves shocking every cell in her body.

“yea? what is it?” you ask, turning to face her, “is everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah, i just—” ellie bit her lip nervously, “i just really like you. like, i think about you all the time. when i first heard your voice that night i dialed you, i just knew i had to talk to you again. there’s just something about you that always brings me back and— fuck, i never thought i’d find myself catching feelings so hard for a girl before.”

your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was, but you didn’t care. ellie put her arm around your shoulder and held your hand with her free one, leaning in closer.

“what i’m trying to say is that— i really, really want to be with you. i want to be the one who you tell the weird stories about your clients to and i want to be the one to take care of you after a long day at class. i want to be the one who protects you and who you share your favorite meal with. i just— i really want you to be my girlfriend,” and before ellie continues any further, you cut her off with a kiss.

“if this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, the answer is yes, ellie williams,” you answer, briefly pulling away for air.

ellie’s smile grows wider, “cool,” she quirks before connecting your lips again.

the sun was long gone and the moon had taken over the night sky. but your date with ellie was far from over.

after spending an evening filled with thrill rides and greasy, fried snacks, you and ellie both decided to calm things down by taking a walk along the boardwalk, occasionally strolling up and down the pier.

“would you say this has been a good date so far?” ellie’s eyes flitter toward you, her arm slung over your shoulder as you stride down the various closed stores and restaurants of the boardwalk. it was empty, only one or two people passing by, but other than that it was only you two.

“mmm, i’d give it a…six out of ten,” you tease, gaining a scoff from your new girlfriend.

“a six? seriously?” she shakes her head, “damn, not the response i was hoping for.”

“i’m just kidding, els,” you giggle, “this date has been amazing. i loved every bit of it. thank you.”

you lean over and press a small kiss on her cheek, watching how the vermilion scatters across her freckles.

“now that’s more like it.” ellie laughs, continuing the promenade forward, with no destination in mind.

your eyes settle on this small, old-fashioned photo booth tucked away in a corner of the boardwalk. the sign above it flashing ‘PHOTOS: 4 different poses’. it was the perfect idea to end the night and have a little souvenir to remember your first date.

you let go of her hand, dashing towards the photo booth, ellie confusedly following after you. you open your bag, searching for some change, and you insert four quarters into the small coin slot.

“let's go inside,” you enthuse, excited to try out the photo booth.

ellie went inside first, taking a seat on the extremely small bench, barely leaving any space for you to sit beside her. the booth was such a tight enclosure, only allowing enough space for a maximum of two people.

“i— uh— don’t know where to—” you stammer, but she interrupts you as she grabs your hips, sitting you down on her right thigh.

warmth rose to your face, feeling secure and sturdy sat upon her leg. ellie closed the black curtain, covering the entrance and blocking any light that would shine through.

“okay, we have three minutes and four poses,” you say, turning your neck to look down at her, “what should our poses be?”

“i dunno, i’m sure we’ll look great doing any. we can jus’ do them as we go along,” ellie shrugged, and the photo booth began to count down from five.

sitting up straight in her lap and fixing your hair, you and ellie put on a smile, and the light flashes white, signaling the end of the first pose.

for the second pose, you turn your head and plant your lips on ellie’s cheek as ellie scrunches her nose up, and the flash lights up for a second time.

for the third pose, you loop your arm over ellie’s shoulder, and you both look each other in with adoring eyes and loving smiles — flash.

you both couldn’t even bother getting ready for the final pose, too lost in each other’s admiring gazes to think properly. you were focused on the jade green of ellie’s eyes, wishing you could jump in and swim in the pools of emerald. ellie was hooked on your face, and memorizing every detail like her life depended on it — tracing her eyes over your pouty lips.

and as the countdown went to one, ellie smashed her lips onto yours, her arms tightening around your waist to pull you closer. this kiss was different from the ones from before — there was urgency, there was eagerness, there was a burning passion, one you’ve never experienced before.

her tongue shoves into your mouth, tasting the mint you’ve chewed previously. immodest and perhaps, pornographic wet sounds from your mouths resonate throughout the small photobooth. one of her hands trail from your hips towards your tits, groping the soft, pillowy flesh underneath your baby blue dress, eliciting the faintest of whimpers — a sound ellie has been dying to hear again.

you couldn’t help the arousal building up in your core, compelling you to grind your crotch against the denim fabric of her jeans.

“e-ellie, i— i’ve never—” you struggle to let out, pulling away from her lips, a trail of spit lingering on your bottom lip, and her lips plant sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck.

“we can stop if you want, sweet girl,” she murmurs against your skin, and you quickly shake your head.

“n-no, don’t stop, p-please,” you gulp and with your approval, ellie’s other hand goes down to hike your dress up, bunching the fabric up around your waist. her hands push your legs apart, and she lifts one of your thighs up to rest on the wall of the photo booth. you were exposed, the only thing concealing your bare, pussy was the thin fabric of your panties.

she sat back against the corner of the booth, leaning against the wall and allowing you space to lean against her body as well. her hand cupped your panty-covered crotch, rubbing against it.

the sudden friction made you jolt, your breath picking up, “b-but what if— what if someone hears us? or—or sees us?”

“then you better keep it down, pup.”

ellie’s hand slips inside your panties, her index finger sliding between the warmth of your folds, drowning in the wet, hot juices leaking out from you, “fuck.”

you let out a pitiful whine, needing more pressure, craving satisfaction. the nights after that call with ellie, your own fingers no longer sufficed the needs your body demanded. you tried so hard to replicate the same feeling ellie gave you that late evening, but there was no avail as you realized the only person who can truly serve your body correctly was ellie.

“p-please, more,” you begged, hoping she would show you mercy and give you what you wanted.

“please, what? huh? use your fuckin’ manners,” she snides in your ear, breath fanning against your neck. you immediately knew what she was inferring.

“please, daddy, please. i want more,” you bucked your hips up to her hands, and she happily obliged. two of ellie’s fingers made their way to your throbbing and swollen clit, applying pressure as her digits created circles.

you couldn’t suppress the moan that emerged from your throat, clamping a hand shut over your mouth, careful not to alert any strangers nearby, knowing people would still be able to hear despite the thin, black curtain covering the photo booth.

“you look s’ fuckin’ pretty,” ellie whispers against your neck, and her hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at her as she smushes her lips against your swollen, red lips.

a stream of melodious moans vibrated against ellie’s mouth, and she was drinking it in, savoring the sound of you against her lips. the way ellie’s tongue fucked your mouth felt ungodly, and almost immoral. someone who harbors the power to make you feel how you do is something close to the devil, as pleasure this wonderful was sinful.

her fingers disappear from your clit, leaving you feeling empty.

“open.” ellie orders and you part your lips. she pushes her fingers in your mouth, and you suck them clean, your tongue lapping the salty juices like a puppy desperate for water on a hot day.

“such a good fuckin’ girl, shiiit,” ellie praises, slipping her fingers in your pussy, continuing the circles on your hardened clit.

“you know what good girls like you get? huh?” ellie’s fingers pick up speed, “they get to cum. you wanna cum for daddy, baby?”

unable to think of any response, you nod your head up and down.

“use your words, pup.”

“yes, daddy. puppy wants to cum,” you whine out. that was enough for ellie to give you what you wanted. one hand rubbing circles your clit, her other hand pushes your panties to the side and inserts one finger in your leaking hole, gently sliding it in and out.

“ellie!” you cry out, astounded by the added pressure. her finger was long and filled you up almost, completely.

“gotta stretch you out, baby. get you ready for my cock,” ellie smirks as she slowly adds in another finger, still maintaining her slow, neutral pace.

your pussy clenches around her fingers, and you scrambled around to grab ahold of anything you can get your hands on. you were drunk on ellie, the way she talks to you — almost condescending — combined with how she had you writhing under her fingers. you were unequivocally hers. you were ellie’s.

she added a third finger to your clit, applying more pressure on your sensitive clit, and her fingers began to pump faster inside your pussy, coating it in a thick, creamy layer of your juices.

“god, you’re such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” ellie kisses the side of your neck, “look at you, making a mess all over my hands, like a filthy pup.”

all your mouth would utter was these weak, pathetic whimpers and moans, fucked out dumb and stupid. you don’t even think you could remember your name right now.

the familiar feeling of your orgasm coming undone begins to rise, accompanied by a new pressure you feel in your abdomen — the urge to push.

“daddy, think m’ gonna— p—pee,” you stammer, not wanting to embarrass yourself and closing your legs, “it feels like i have to—”

“baby, let it happen. promise it’s not piss or anything,” ellie reassured, figuring this was your first time squirting. “just let go, sweet girl.”

the sweet sounds of your wet pussy echoed throughout the confined spaces of the booth, just how ellie liked it. it was music to her ears.

the feeling of your walls tightening around her fingers told her that you were just right on the edge, and she was going to give you that push to fall over and come undone all over her hands.

the pad of ellie’s fingers massaged figure eights on your pussy, almost tracing infinity signs on your clit. her fingers found rhythm and continued thrusting her index and middle fingers inside you, curling up to rub the flesh of your walls, hitting just the right spot and emitting an angelic moan from you.

ellie was in heaven and she had this honey-sweet angel melting under her touch.

you squirmed in her lap, your back instinctively arching, about to come apart in this small photo booth.

“daddy, i’m about to— can i? can i cum? pretty please?” you cried out, almost pleading, like you were begging for your life, but you felt like you were going to simply die if you didn’t finish right now.

“yes, pretty baby, cum all over me,” ellie coaxes you through your orgasm, “make a fuckin’ mess, puppy.”

you came undone, falling apart right there. your pussy clamped around her fingers, a stream of milky-white cream trickling onto her hands. your body overcame your thoughts, and you pushed out — releasing a gush of watery, squirt all over the place. spurting out, imitating a fountain.

ellie pulled her hands out of you, and brought them to her mouth, sucking and licking them clean. still coming down from the high that was your orgasm, your breaths came out heavy and unlabored, a tear falling down out of the corner of your eye and streaming down your cheek.

“you alright, babe?” ellie asked, fixing your panties and pulling your dress down.

“y-yea, i’m okay,” you stutter, standing up and exiting the photo booth, finding the boardwalk still deserted. legs still shaking, you trip over your own feet and lean on the walls of the booth for support. ellie took hold of your waist, ensuring you don’t fall.

“hey, look, our picture,” she points out, taking the strip out from the slot and showing the black and white photo to you.

ellie smiles at the strip, “we look good, huh?”

you nod, still simmering down. ellie takes notice of your state and plants a kiss to your lips, rubbing your waist soothingly.

“how ‘bout we get outta here and get some real food? sound good, baby?”

you nod, smiling, “sounds perfect.”

🫶🏼

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 days

Text

Just Friends: A Day at the Fair

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You make a new friend.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Ten bucks for a game?” Bucky curls his lip at the sign.

You giggle around the mouthful of dissolving spun sugar. You gulp and sigh, “oh, you’re such and old man, sometimes.”

“Ten bucks!” He exclaims again, waving a hand.

“In my day...” You say in unison with him and he stops abruptly. He squints as you turn and walk backwards with him through the fairgrounds. “And predictable.”

His blue eyes dull in irritation. “Maybe the world is predictable, huh? And I’m just reacting to it.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” you chime and twirls your cotton candy. “Have some, it’s yummy.”

“I told you not to get that. It’ll give you a stomach ache.”

“I’m an adult. I can do what I want.” You retort. “I’m gonna get a candy apple and a funnel cake and oooh, do they have those big baked pretzels?”

“You’re going to get sick.”

“That’s half the fun,” you smile and your heel catches on a rise in the ground, heavy rubber mats spread to hide thick wires. Bucky’s quick. So quick it makes you dizzy. He catches you and sets you right, sharply spinning you ahead.

“You need to watch where you’re going,” he girds.

You just laugh again, “aw, but I got you around to save me.” You put your feet right and fall back into step. “So you’re too cheap to win me that purrito stuffy, so I’ll just do it myself--”

“I’m not cheap.”

“Not at all,” you agree with a grin. He stops and face you. You look up at him and take another bite of spun sugar.

“You are the worst,” he says as he digs in his pocket and twists on his heel, “fine, one purrito coming up.”

He marches back to the shooting game and greets the man in his striped shirt. He pays for his go and picks up the rifle. He gives you a look before he raises the but to his shoulder. His posture is confident, if not bored.

The pings come in fast succession. You don’t have a minute to count them but he stops before the rifle clicks, knowing exactly how many he’s fired. All in the centre of the bullseye. He flips the gun and hands it back to the work.

“A purrito, whatever that is,” he demands.

The fair employee gapes at him as he accepts the gun. He blinks then glances at the target again. His eyes rove back to Bucky and he frowns as he notices Bucky’s metal hand.

“Dammit, I knew you looked familiar,” he grumbles and turns to take a purrito from the wall. He hands it over to Bucky who thanks him and turns to you.

“It’s a cat... in a tortilla?”

“Yes, a purrrrrrito,” you drag out the words. “Like a burrito but cuter.”

He sighs, “of course.”

“It’s so cute!” You wiggle it around gleefully, “I’m going to put it right in my room with all my others!”

“Others?”

“Oh, yes, I have a whole shelf of purritos. Big, small, calico, tabby... even a lion.”

“Wow,” he mutters.

“We all have collections. What about your cards? Hmm?”

“Those are priceless. They’re baseball cards from the 1936 World Series. The Yankees won.”

“Sounds important. I don’t really watch baseball,” you say. “But see? It’s your passion. You love those cards. You even put them in plastic. That’s kinda adorable. Means you care about them. Just like my purritos!”

“Antique baseball cards are different from stuffed taco cats.”

“Um, a burrito is not a taco,” you argue.

“Don’t,” he points at you. “You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“You have to argue and then you put on that face--”

“What face?” You pout.

“Ah, quit.”

“Fine,” you harrumph and tuck your prize under your arm. You tear off a piece of cotton candy and hold it out to him, “here.”

“I told you--” he stops himself and accepts it. He eats it and lets out an ‘mmm’.

“See, it’s good.”

“It’s pure sugar.”

“I know,” you agree triumphantly. “So, you wanna go on a ride? I like that big one!”

You point with the empty cone and he tilts his chin up. “Sure, may as well get our money’s worth.”

“Oh, fun! It’s going to be so scary.”

“Scary?” Bucky snickers.

“Not all of us jump out of planes, Mr. Avenger.”

“Or sing and dance in frills,” he rebuffs.

You roll your eyes. Your job isn’t the best but you get decent tips at the restaurant. Besides, you don’t exactly have the qualifications to save the world. Sometimes the distance between you, in more than age, is daunting.

You pass a garbage can and toss the cone. You join the line for the ride and Bucky crowds in behind you between the metal barriers. You wait your turn as you bounce on your shoes and hug your toy.

“I’m gonna name this one Mew-chanan. After you.”

“Mew-- oh god.” He shakes his head as he connects the dots. “You’re so cheesy.”

“And yet you’re still hanging out with me,” you smirk.

You get to the front of the line and the work offers to hold the purrito. You hand him over and follow another to a seat. Bucky gets in next of you. You squeak as you’re locked into the seat and your insides begin to swim. You should’ve suggested the merry-go-round but you don’t want him to think you’re that lame.

“My stummy—stomach!” You say as the ride starts to hum.

“I told you about eating that--”

Before he can finish, the ride lurches into action. Slow at first, rising and rising. The higher you get, the dizzier you are. As you get to the top, you latch onto his hand. You close your eyes and let out a long breath.

“You okay?” He asks.

You blink and look at him. Before you can answer, the ride drops at warp speed. A scream erupts from your chest and you close your eyes. It doesn’t last long but you’re breathless as you stop at the bottom. You squeeze Bucky’s hand as you tremble. You crush his fingers, his real fingers together.

“Hey, Dreamy, it’s over,” he shakes your hand.

“I know, I know,” you peel your eyes open. “That was... fun.”

He watches you, his blue eyes almost cloudy. You open your hand and his thumb taps your knuckle before he turns his palm down. You blow out as the harness lifts from your chest.

“Come on!” You hop out of the seat. “Let’s do another.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #au #marvel #avengers #winter soldier #captain america #mcu #just friends

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ybklix · 2 months

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𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀

★ pairing: chris bahng & lee minho x popstar!femreader

✦𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Prima donna: someone who demands to be treated in a special way and is difficult to please.

The sweet and perverse play of a life hidden behind an acclaimed character created by someone.

Minho Lee, a frustrated young writer working in one of the most important music magazines, is about to find out what’s really going on behind the scenes of the mysterious girl everyone is wondering about.

With small steps in your career, you are discovered by a famous producer under the pseudonym CB97, whose vision of work is very specific and quite peculiar… yet you succeed in becoming a rising star, who manages to spark the public's curiosity. Hiding little secrets under the image of a mysterious internet girl with an angelic voice and face.

Once Minho is challenged to come up with a really good story to keep his job, he finds your unusual videos on the internet, wondering if he could have a chance to meet you… only to find himself with no way out, immerse in a dark world, hidden and full of beauty and desire.

♡ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, daddy kink, soft bdsm, sex toys, sextape, est. relationship, cheating, threesomes, mention of sex workers, sugar daddy, dom!chan, toxic relationship, reader is slightly a nymphomaniac (current warnings appearing in each chapter).

♡⋆˙ FIC MASTERLIST

❀ inspired by the early career of poppy, the singer and her “weird” yt videos back in 2016, electra heart by marina and the diamonds and almost famous film.

main masterlist

current warnings: daddy kink, pet names, suggestive smut.

word count: 860

♡ PROLOGUE ♡

“Perfect, beautiful, but I feel you can do better, let’s do it again just one more time” your boyfriend said in a soft tone, focused on all his recording equipment watching once more your video, you nodded determined and quickly arranged your two pigtails back on your shoulders, “In three... two...”

You went back to your role and acted according to the script previously studied to perfection written by your boyfriend. It wasn’t rocket science, your videos were never longer than three minutes, and this was one of those that came out in one continuous take, but Chris, your boyfriend, was a total perfectionist freak.

Once you heard him say “Cut,” you felt yourself breathe again and were a little tired of the bright set lighting hitting your face.

“This is the good one, babygirl, you did excellent, I just edit it and it’s done” he said, cheering you on and still focused on his computer.

You approached him, this time he was so focused on the result of the video that he didn’t go straight to you to pamper you which seemed strange to you, like something empty, you missed his affection and compliments every time you did something well, or every time you did your job well and didn't complicate it for him too much.

You admired him, his handsome side profile, you sighed, you were dying to call him by his name, but he didn’t like when you called him that at all, according to him, it was like a lack of affection towards him.

“Daddy” you tried to catch his attention, stretching his clothes a little but he was still engrossed watching every detail of your recorded video, “Daddy” you called him again in a more needy tone.

“What’s wrong little one?” he replied without paying attention to you, deftly moving his long fingers on his computer.

“Did I do it right?” you asked.

“Of course you did, babygirl, I’m almost about to post it...”

“Then why don’t you show me how much you like it?” you whined, knowing full well that tone made every part of his body tremble.

He finally turned to look at you, your expression with a slight pout, your eyes bright, it was obvious you wanted sex to which Chris smirked as he couldn’t believe you were insatiable, you had a huge sexual appetite, you could last hours and hours, round after round until he left your body completely tired, until you cried and begged for no more. But you couldn’t help it, he had made you that way, he created you, from your dyed hair, to your feet with your socks and shoes on that he chose and dressed you in them. You were all his.

For a year now, you had this kind of relationship that was a little abnormal, but you were turned on by every part of it. It was a routine you kept, but besides the sex your favorite part was making music with your boyfriend, being able to share creative ideas, and ending up completely fascinated with the great work he did with your voice.

“That’s what you want, huh, babygirl?” Chris raised his eyebrows, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth watching you with desire, making your pussy throb under his penetrating gaze, “Wasn’t the good morning daddy gave you enough for you?”

You shook energetically, your heart racing at the thought of being touched again by him, igniting in you an inner flame that could only be extinguished by reaching your so intense orgasm that your daddy always makes sure you reach.

“I want more, daddy please, don’t I deserve a reward?”

“Mmm, the video wasn’t that hard to act...” he commented teasing you a little.

“Daddy, pleaseee” you begged, you were so wet that if he refused to touch you, you’d go to your room to lock in and give yourself an orgasm, without caring about breaking one of his rules, either way a very painful but sizzling hot punishment awaited you every time you broke one of them.

“Okay, come here” Chris turned from his chair, putting his body in front of you.

You moved closer, almost in a jump of happiness, wrapping your arms around his neck, Chris wrapped his arms around your body, squeezing it and dropping his heavy strong arms in you.

“What does my princess want?” he asked, close to your lips, brushing his big nose against yours.

“I don’t know, daddy, you decide...”

Chris moved one of his hands down to your wet center, starting to stroke your clit, making you gasp and moan.

“You’re so wet... You want daddy to play with you, don’t you?”

You bit your lip, aroused, every muscle in your pussy throbbing, so needy at his slightest touch. You loved him, you worship him.

You didn’t believe that anything or anyone could break such a bond between you. He knew absolutely everything about you, or at least you were so blinded as to believe so. But trying to figure him out was a constant game that sometimes you had to lose. And gosh, you really fucking hate to lose.

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augustjustice · 1 year

Text

Got You By My Side

AO3 Link

Eddie is pulled from deep, dreamless darkness by the sound of a vaguely familiar voice, speaking slow and methodical in the distance.

“Then Frodo felt himself falling, and the roaring and confusion seemed to rise and engulf him together with his enemies. He heard and saw no more.”

More acutely than any of the countless times he’s read this book in the past, Eddie feels Frodo’s pain, the memory of those interdimensional monster bats screeching and clawing and flapping the last image he can conjure before that long, silent blackness overtook him.

The sweet, soothing voice lilts on, unspooling one of Eddie’s favorite stories with all the warmth of covering him in a fluffy blanket. “Frodo woke and found himself lying in bed. At first he thought that he had slept late, after a long unpleasant dream that still hovered on the edge of memory. Or perhaps he had been ill?”

In real time, Eddie blinks his eyes open, the white ceiling overhead spinning slightly before his vision clears. Tilting his head in the direction of the sound, Eddie finds Steve Harrington sitting in an uncomfortable looking hospital chair, the battle outfit Eddie last saw him in replaced by a long-sleeve blue Henley and light wash jeans, a worn copy of The Fellowship of the Ring cracked open on his knee.

Fortunately, the memories of the past few days aren’t far from the edges of Eddie’s mind, or he might think he really was dreaming.

“Harrington?” Eddie manages to call groggily, Steve’s name cracking in the middle, and, Christ, his throat feels like someone fucked it raw with a sandpaper condom.

Beside him, Steve freezes, jerking his head up to blink at Eddie with wide, startled hazel eyes. Then he’s tossing the book aside, down onto the edge of Eddie’s bed as he launches himself out of the chair.

Eddie barely has time to register the movement before Steve is throwing an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a fierce hug.

“Eddie!” Steve is so close, face pressed into Eddie’s hair, that Eddie can feel it when his warm breath tickles his neck, like he’s letting out an exhale he’s been holding in for days. “You’re awake! And about time, too, dude. We thought–we thought we lost you.”

Maybe Eddie actually did die, because this kind of overly-affectionate response from Steve totally seems like something that would be conjured up in his own private fantasy land.

Turning on a dime, the sugar-coated reverie that seems straight from Eddie’s dreams is disrupted just as quickly and abruptly as being doused awake with cold water. Because Eddie has barely had time to register the arms around him before Steve jerks back just out of reach, smacks him once lightly on the shoulder, and demands, “What the hell was that, Munson?!”

“Ow,” Eddie whines, even though Steve has done little more than jostle him, “wasn’t being mauled by demo-bats enough, man?”

“Shit!” Steve swears, and the speed with which guilt mars his expression is genuinely impressive–if a little concerning. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie reassures him automatically as Steve smooths a hand down his arm, brow furrowing with worry as he checks Eddie over. “Seriously, dude, I’m alright.”

Steve shoots him a deadpan look.

“Yeah, kinda think the doctor might disagree with you there, buddy.”

At the mention of doctors, Eddie stiffens automatically. Right, shit, he’s in a hospital. Hawkins Memorial, a public place, with people beyond the band of heroic saviors that have formed around him the past few days.

Doesn’t exactly seem like the safest place for a wanted man.

“Uh, Steve?” Steve looks at him in question. “Shouldn’t I be, like…making a break for it before, you know. The cops bust in here and haul my ass to jail?”

“Oh, that! No, dude, don’t worry,” Steve waves a dismissive hand, “you’re totally in the clear now. Hopper and the feds did their typical scary CIA shadowy cover-up deal, so you’re good to go. All the charges against you have been dropped.”

A long beat of silence falls over the room, Eddie trying to make sense of the sentence.

“...You’re talking about the late chief of police, right? That Jim Hopper.”

Steve scratches a finger over his sideburn, tilting his head to one side as though he’s only now registering the sheer absurdity of what he just said.

“Yeah, so, turns out…not as dead as we thought, apparently.”

“Okay, well…cool. Cool, cool, cool,” Eddie mutters to himself.

The last time he had seen the police chief, he’d been giving Eddie a fairly strong warning about local speed limits and not giving everyone on the road additional white hairs. He’s too afraid of the answer to ask if Hopper had come back from the dead or not.

Clearing his throat awkwardly helps Eddie register again just how damn dry it is.

“Not that I’m not enjoying the emotional whiplash of this reunion, man, but,” Eddie rubs a hand uselessly at his Adam’s apple, “I kinda think I might be dying of thirst here.”

Steve is up like a shot all over again, quickly filling a small paper cup with water from the sink in one corner of the room. As Eddie sits up to take the proffered drink from him, he can’t help but let out a pained hiss, his abdomen burning from the sudden shift in his position.

“Hey, hey, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy, man!” Steve chides.

He does that a lot, Eddie has noticed, guiding the freshmen brats, even Eddie himself through battlefields and portals and the horrors of the Upside Down with a hand hovering near their backs as if he’s going to catch them if they fall, all the time tutting like a nervous mother hen.

It’s stupidly endearing, which is something Eddie never thought he would think.

“I promised Henderson I’d watch you like a hawk,” Steve says, pressing Eddie back into the pillows with a gentle hand, “so lay back and just let me help you, okay? Jesus.”

Eddie can’t quite suppress his grin at the way Steve fusses, tutting as he helps guide the small cup of water up to Eddie’s mouth, scolding him with a quick, “You’re gonna spill that if you’re not careful, Eds.”

If the Eddie of two weeks ago could see him now, he would not believe it.

As Eddie drains the cup eagerly, Steve absently tells him to wait right there and then disappears into the hallway.

Eddie snorts, even though there’s no one around to hear it.

Yeah. Like he’s going anywhere in the state he’s in.

When Steve gets back, he’s not alone, his boyish charm having apparently summoned a nurse from whatever front desk she was manning. Eddie puts on a brave face as she checks him over carefully–vitals, flashlights shined in his eyes, the works–and compliments his progress with a genuineness he definitely wasn’t expecting to find inside Hawkins city limits ever again.

Once she leaves again with a promise to send in the doctor as soon as possible, Steve is tugging the chair right back up to Eddie’s side, now turned around so he’s sitting in it backwards. He studies Eddie, wide brown eyes shining with genuine concern that makes something inside Eddie flutter, despite how desperately he tries to tamp down the feeling.

“How’re you feeling? Seriously?”

“Kinda like somebody ran me through a wood chipper,” Eddie admits, gesturing to the gauze bandages draped all up and down his body.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Steve actually looks apologetic, like he’s somehow responsible.

Ridiculous, the guy is ridiculous. Eddie can’t believe how wrong he was, that he really thought Steve was just some callous, arrogant rich kid, like…a week ago.

“Looks like you’re now an official member of the ‘Upside Down bat chow’ club.”

“Well, hey,” Eddie inclines his head towards Steve’s chest, “at least I’m in good company.”

Steve makes a noise of acknowledgment, tugging his Henley up just far enough for Eddie to see the contrast of white bandages against his tan bare skin. Eddie forces his eyes not to linger, breath hitching in a way that has nothing to do with pain.

“But, you know, maybe you wouldn’t be if you’d just listened to me,” Steve points out petulantly as he drops the hem of his shirt.

Spell broken, Eddie lets out a huff of laughter.

“Anybody ever tell you you’re kinda insufferable, Harrington?”

“Takes one to know one,” Steve shoots back easily before the stern edge seeps back into his voice. “I thought I told you not to be a hero, man. Why did you do that?”

“You really wanna know the answer to that?” Eddie asks, sobering slightly. When Steve nods, he takes a deep breath and barrels on. “Well, I just asked myself, ‘What would Steve Harrington do?’ and even though I would have scoffed three days ago…seemed like the most obvious answer.”

Steve lets out a disbelieving noise, rolling his eyes, which startles another laugh out of Eddie.

“I’m serious, dude! You’ve got this whole…level twelve Barbarian, tearing into bats with your teeth th–” at Steve’s confused look, he amends, “I mean, uh this…badass, action hero at the end of the world thing going for you, and, when I realized you guys still needed a distraction, I just thought…I’d channel a little bit of that, overcome my own natural cowardly tendencies to run.”

“Man, I seriously can’t believe you,” Steve is shaking his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He reaches forward, nudging Eddie’s leg gently. “I’ve got news for you, Eddie. Cowards? Don’t do that.”

Eddie shrugs sheepishly, tugging a strand of hair up to his mouth to chew on, not quite sure how to take the compliment.

Steve smiles at him a beat longer, not saying anything. Then, his eyes seem to cloud over, expression growing distant like he’s lost in thought.

Eddie fidgets, playing with his rings as one hand taps an uneven rhythm against the blanket, feeling pinned with Steve’s eyes still settled on him. Finally, he breaks the silence.

“Earth to Stevie,” he waves a hand in front of Steve’s face, watches the way he shakes himself out of whatever reverie he had just slipped into, “where’d you go, man?”

Steve bites his lip, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed about being caught.

“Just thinking.”

Eddie leans towards Steve, eyebrows raised, expression expectant.

“...about?” he finally sing-songs, drawing the word out in a needling tone, not able to take the suspense a second longer.

“I ran, too, you know,” Steve says quietly, the mood in the room sobering immediately. At Eddie’s questioning look, he continues, “The first time, with Nancy and Jonathan. That thing came out of the walls, and Nancy told me to run–that’s what I was talking about, how she almost shot me that one time–and…I did. I ran. This shit is scary as hell, man.”

Eddie sucks in his bottom lip, mulling over Steve’s words.

“But…you came back,” he hedges, guessing, but based on everything he’s seen from Steve, he’d bet money he’s right. “I mean, total assumption on my part, but–”

He waves a hand in Steve’s direction, a silent here you are.

“Yeah, sure, I did. But so did you when it mattered. There–” Steve shoots Eddie a pained, apologetic look, “look, Eddie, with Chrissy…I know you don’t want to hear it, but there was nothing you could have done at that point. And if the cops had found you there, you probably would have ended up in jail. But you went back to distract the demo-bats. You kept them away from us when we were going after Vecna. So. Guess that makes you a hero, too.”

Steve huffs out a weak little laugh.

“Even though, like I just said, I explicitly told you not to be one.”

“What, you expect me to start taking orders now from Steve Harrington?” Eddie teases, eyes sparkling. “I’ve got a reputation to maintain, man.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, screw your reputation, no more pulling death-defying stunts like that, alright? Cuz I might not be around next time to pull you out of it. Besides, you’re way too important to the kids for that shit.”

“What, you want me to leave all the monster-hunting to the experts, Harrington?”

“No, dude,” Steve reaches over and shoves Eddie lightly, the movement careful, his hand big and warm where it wraps around Eddie’s shoulder, “I just don’t want you to die, okay?”

Those kind brown eyes are on him again, drinking Eddie in like Steve was afraid he might never see him again. It’s all too much, the feeling that this is all really just some fantasy come to life trickling in again, and Eddie has to avert his gaze, swiveling his head as he lets out a sound caught somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle.

“Well, hey,” he deflects, sweeping a hand over the bandages covering his stomach and torso before tapping just below the mauled spot on his cheek, “At least I took the ‘don’t be cute’ part to heart, right, Harrington?”

Steve finally releases his shoulder, but his eyes are still trained on Eddie. Eddie thinks the scars are going to end up looking pretty badass, sure, but…there’s still an edge of insecurity lurking just below the surface of his bravado. He hopes Steve can’t see it, ferret out the cracks in his performance.

But he suspects he can.

They haven’t known each other long, not actually known each other, at least, but Eddie’s gathered in that short time, just from the easy way he fell into answering Eddie’s questions, anticipating what he needed to know, that Steve picks up on a lot more than most people give him credit for.

“Yeah, no,” Steve’s shaking his head, floppy waves falling across his forehead, “Pretty sure you’re literally incapable of not being cute, Munson.”

Something in Eddie’s chest seizes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that Steve is totally flirting with him, even his faux-annoyed tone not seeming too far off the mark from a bit of pig-tail pulling.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” Eddie quips back, because he’d started flirting with Steve in the Upside Down with all the devil-may-care gusto that came from knowing he might die tomorrow and now apparently he’s chronically incapable of stopping.

Steve has his arms crossed over the back of the chair, his chin propped up on them, looking irritatingly nonchalant and cool. Which…Eddie guesses is a lot better than looking like he’s seconds away from hauling off and punching him, but it’s still making him nervous.

He lifts one shoulder, a casual half-shrug, and then says, like he’s not tilting Eddie’s entire world on its axis, “Just the pretty ones.”

Eddie’s entire face heats up, flushing to the roots of his hair.

He can’t remember the last time he felt this flustered and tongue-tied. Probably not since Chrissy Cunningham deigned to smile at him, wide and sincere, at the middle school talent show, he realizes with a bittersweet pang.

“The rumors are true,” he manages to squeak out, “you’re a smooth talker, Harrington.”

Steve grins, wide and bright, looking inordinately pleased with himself. It’s the happiest Eddie thinks he’s seen him since this entire thing started.

“So they tell me,” he agrees, and then has the audacity to wink at Eddie, the bastard.

Eddie isn’t even sure where to go in the conversation from there. Usually, he’d like to think, he’s not too bad at this, can flirt and tease with the best of them. Hell, he has been flirting with Steve on and off for the past few days.

But that was before he lived, and before Steve, to Eddie’s complete confusion, started giving as good as he got, coming back with lines when previously he had been the one blushing and batting Eddie shyly away.

Fortunately, Steve cocks his head to one side, considering, and then breaks the silence for him.

“You know,” he starts, voice soft, “I was jealous of you, too.”

Eddie gawps at him like a fish, nearly as surprised as he had been by what seemed to be Steve’s undeniable flirting. When he manages to get some small semblance of control over himself again, he lets out a short, disbelieving bark of laughter.

“Steve Harrington, jealous? And of little ole me?” he presses a hand to his chest, batting his eyelashes briefly, a theatrical display to cover up the genuine shock still coursing through him. “Why the hell were you jealous, Harrington?”

The corners of Steve’s mouth turn upwards, a self-deprecating twist to them as he reaches up and runs a hand up through that infamous hair of his. Eddie tries not to let his train of thought get derailed wondering if those locks are as soft as they look, how they might feel running through Eddie’s own fingers.

“It’s gonna sound…so stupid. It’s just that…Henderson, you know, he’s a complete and total pain in my ass, but he’s also–he’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a little brother. And, I don't know. I guess the kid did kind of have stars in his eyes around me when I first started looking out for him. Except, it didn't feel like it did when all those kids in high school wanted to hang around just because I was popular and I could get them status, or because I had a big empty house full of free booze. It felt like it…mattered.

“But after they started back to school this year and joined up with Hellfire, he and Sinclair and Wheeler, they just went on and on about you, man, how cool they all thought you were, how you ran their little fantasy board game or whatever and they were all super into it, and I guess I just started to worry I was being…replaced. Like they were all growing up, and they wouldn’t need me in their life now that they had found somebody better to look up to.

“And I started to remember how you were in school. You were just so–unapologetically yourself, like you never gave a shit what people thought about you. Back then, I could never do that, and I guess…I started to wish that I had. Been more like you, I mean,” Steve looks up at him then, with a soft smile that would have broken the hearts of a thousand Hankins High girls. "So, yeah. Guess I got a little jealous, Eddie. That I was being replaced by Eddie 'the Freak' Munson."

Steve winces a little on the name, looking sheepish.

"Except it turns out, Henderson was right all along. Eddie Munson? Actually a totally great guy," he claps a hand over Eddie’s knee, giving it a fond squeeze.

Eddie blinks at him, dumbfounded into silence.

“Come on, dude,” Steve says quietly, the tips of his ears going pink as he jostles Eddie’s leg lightly, “don’t just leave me hanging out on a limb here. Say something.”

“That–was the most surreal thing that’s happened to me this week. And,” Eddie holds up a finger, “I’d like to remind you, an interdimensional portal opened up in the ceiling of my trailer.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, nervous at the edges.

“It wasn’t that weird,” he protests.

“Oh, no, man, it totally was. You, Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, just admitted, out loud, that you wished you were more like me, Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson. That ranks in…at least the top ten weirdest moments of my entire life.”

Steve nudges Eddie again.

“Forget I said anything.”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie tells him with a wide, dimpled grin. Then, he places his hand over Steve’s wrist, jostling him right back. “You come up with that pretty speech all by yourself, Steve?”

The smile Steve shoots him is lopsided.

"I had a little help from a friend."

"Oh, so," Eddie waves a hand between the two of them, "we're friends now?"

The glint in Steve’s eye turns mischievous. "Just think how much it will freak everyone in town out."

Eddie throws back his head, letting out a delighted cackle.

"Harrington, you’ve really got a way of persuading a man."

They grin at each other for a moment, soaking in their own giddiness. Eddie thinks dizzily that this must be karma’s way of paying him back for some of the worst of it, the past few days of vicious bats tearing into him and a mob on his heels. And some part of him thinks it almost makes up for it, the terror and the pain still radiating in his side, if it only means Steve Harrington’s going to keep smiling at him like that.

"Are you still jealous, Stevie?" he asks, and despite the goading edge to the words, his question is sincere.

"Nope,” Steve pops the ‘p’ with his lips, “Not anymore. If anything, it sounds kind of nice, having another pair of hands on deck to help corral those little runts when they get out of hand. It's like herding cats sometimes, I swear."

"Yeah," Eddie falters. Steve’s words concretize the promise of friendship he’s offering, conjuring up a real, solid image of that karmic more Eddie was just imagining. "I guess that doesn't sound too bad. But careful, Harrington. Might start to sound like we're married, or something."

Eddie recognizes the way Steve ducks his head, a faint blush spreading over his cheeks, from their conversation in the Upside Down woods, and he knows this time that he’s been the one to hit the head on the flirtatious nail.

“Speaking of, where are Henderson and the other munchkins, anyway?” he asks, momentarily steering the conversation back to safer waters. “Earlier, you said something about him forcing you to look after me?”

“Okay, first of all, I did not say forced,” Steve argues, his lips drawing down into that disgruntled, petulant frown Eddie has started to grow stupidly fond of. “But, Dustin…yeah, he’s alright. He was here ‘til visiting hours ended last night. Mrs. Henderson had to practically drag him away so he’d go home and get some rest.”

The memories come rushing back, Dustin limping to Eddie’s side to hold him in what he thought were going to be his final moments, and relief washes over him.

“Which is why I’m on babysitting duty today,” Steve adds.

“Well, that is your job now, right?” Eddie teases. “Babysitter extraordinaire.”

“Yeah, yeah. No TV after dinner unless you eat all your vegetables, Munson,” Steve wags a finger at him for the full effect, and Eddie has to bite his lip to keep from laughing, “and don’t you forget it.”

“How ‘bout Team Kate Bush and the rest of the Vecna Slaying Squad…they alright?”

The way Steve’s face sobers immediately, mouth pulling into a taut, grim line is enough to make Eddie flinch in anticipation.

“I mean, everybody made it out in one piece, except…Max is in a coma. She’s a few doors down.”

Steve nods his head in the direction of Red’s room, and Eddie feels like he’s been doused in a bucket of cold water.

“Shit. Shit. Do they know when–?”

Steve shakes head, anticipating the end of Eddie’s sentence. He’s immensely grateful that he does, because he’s not sure he could have finished it.

“The doctors–they aren’t sure yet,” Steve admits, running a finger over his top lip, looking as tense as Eddie feels. “I checked in on her this morning, before I came down to sit with you, and she was…stable, pretty much the same as she has been. Lucas was there. I think he’d stay around the clock if they’d let him.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie notes softly.

The boys had told him, about Sinclair and the tough little red-head who lived just across the way, their on-again, off-again romance that was very much off by the time Eddie met them.

But he’d gotten to see it first hand, the last couple of days, the way the two were practically attached at the hip, circling around each other, getting closer and closer. He had to agree with the whispered, giggled assessment he’d overheard Nancy and Robin make during their impromptu RV road trip. They really were cute.

His chest panged at the thought of hard-headed, mouthy Max laid up in a hospital bed, silent and still. Eddie felt like he was too fucking young for this shit, so the fact that this band of brave, fresh-faced little sheepies had to deal with it? Was too unfair for words.

“But, hey. We already had one miracle today, right?” Steve pats a hand on Eddie’s leg. “You’re awake. So, who knows, maybe another one is…right around the corner.”

“You make…an excellent point, Harrington. Can’t stop believing in the impossible now,” Eddie reaches out, places a hand over Steve’s wrist for a second and squeezes. “Red’s steely. Way tougher than I am. Hopefully she’ll be back up and at ‘em in no time.”

The half-smile Steve gives him is a grateful one, and Eddie returns it easily, letting his fingers linger where they’re pressed into Steve’s warm skin, reveling in the fact that Steve seems no more eager to shake him off than Eddie is to pull away. Finally, he pulls his arm up and away, still tingling with the phantom sensation of holding onto Steve for even that one moment.

Steve’s lips part, like he’s about to say something…but then he’s snapping his fingers, a stricken expression coming over his face.

“Oh, shit, I meant to tell you already,” he runs a hand over his forehead, fingers combing up through his hair in a gesture that seems almost…sheepish, “Hop also promised the Feds were gonna loop your uncle in on…well, not everything, obviously, but on where you were, at least. I’m not sure when they’re gonna tell him. Soon, hopefully.”

At the mention of his uncle, Eddie’s heart gives a painful, hopeful little lurch in his chest.

“Christ, Uncle Wayne,” he mutters. Screwing his eyes shut as he buries his face in his hands for a moment, he feels like he’s taking that first desperate lungful of air you gulp down after you’ve been holding your breath for ages. “It’ll be…so fucking good to see him, man.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Steve agrees softly.

Eddie wonders if he just imagined it, that brief stiltedness in Steve’s voice, the stiffness of his posture, there and gone so quickly it’s impossible to tell.

“And Robin’s supposed to stop by later, her parents are gonna drop her off. She said she’d bring up some lunch. So pretty soon you’ll have more than just this handsome mug around for company,” Steve circles his face with a finger, an amused smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Aww, but I like that face of yours, Harrington,” Eddie needles, walking that exact same line between ribbing and flirtation. He’s pretty damn proud of the blush he manages to prompt across Steve’s cheeks. “Okay, so, Buckley and the shrimps are all accounted for, but…where’s Wheeler?”

Steve’s mouth draws downwards, brow furrowing.

“Oh, uh, which one? Mike, or–Nancy?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, and, he’s not proud to admit it, but a little ripple of envy washes over him. It’s that same spike of jealousy that had reared its ugly head in the Upside Down, when he tossed his vest to Steve to break up the burgeoning couple’s moment, stop their familiar, playful banter.

He’s the one that brought it up, but it still serves as a bracing reality check–Steve’s flirtation with him is probably little more than a distraction, something Hawkins’ resident Casanova in all likelihood doesn’t even realize he’s doing.

"Your betrothed, of course,” Eddie’s voice comes out sounding harsher than he means for it to, far more like it does when he’s pushing the buttons of the resident jocks from the top of a cafeteria table. “When's the wedding, by the way?"

Steve frown deepens, looking taken aback, like he’s been pushed off-kilter. And even though that’s usually the very reaction Eddie is looking for, in that moment, he feels kinda like he should apologize for being an asshole when Steve’s honestly been nothing but nice to him.

Steve doesn’t give him the chance.

“Nancy’s with Jonathan,” he says slowly.

Eddie wilts, feeling even guiltier than before.

“Hey, man,” he stretches his hand out uselessly, his instinct to reach out with another soothing touch even though he’s not sure he deserves to. Before he can make contact, he lets his fist drop to the thin mattress, holding himself back. “I’m sorry.”

The fucked up thing is, he means it. Steve’s a great guy, and even after only a few days of getting to know him, Eddie knows, deep down in his chest, that if anyone deserves to be happy? It’s him.

Steve shakes his head, and now he’s the one looking annoyed, and, maybe, just a tiny bit frustrated.

"No–no, dude,” he slashes his hands through the air, like he’s calling a…time out, or something, as if they’re in one of his sports games. “There's nothing to be sorry for. It isn't like that."

And even if he is trying to be less of a dick, Eddie can’t help but raise a skeptical eyebrow at that.

“Yeah, okay, Harrington,” he says doubtfully, “I mean, I saw the two of you down there. The looks you were giving each other–that’s the kind of stuff people write songs about, man.”

“You’re seriously not listening to what I’m saying, dude.” Chin propped up on his arm, Steve gives yet another exasperated roll of his big, far too pretty eyes. But then his expression smooths out, something contemplative in the line of his mouth. “I thought about it a lot, you know, what you said. What everyone was saying, really. About signs of true love and all that. And the thing is, diving down there after me–Nancy would have done that for any of us. Robin, the kids…she’d have done it for you.”

Eddie doesn't know how to describe it, the feeling that washes over him with the realization that Steve's "us" had included him.

"Me and Nance? We’re just friends, okay? That’s all we’ve been for a long time, now. And the idea that we should try and be anything more than that…chalk it up to temporary insanity caused by demo-bat bites and the threat of the world ending. Again."

Shocked and a little chastised by the revelation, all Eddie can manage to let out is a soft, “...Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve gives him a pointed look, like he’s been a total dumbass about things, which feels…pretty fair, if he’s being honest. “Oh.” Then, in an undertone that makes it seem like maybe he’s just talking to himself, he murmurs, "Besides, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even want kids."

"...What?" Eddie asks, wondering if whatever sweet, sweet pain reliever they've got him on means he missed a step in the conversation.

"Nevermind," Steve dismisses, rubbing a hand over the nape of his neck as his eyes briefly dart toward the ceiling, avoiding Eddie’s gaze, “The point is…there’s nothing going on there. Really.”

“I–yeah, I, um. Got that. Now,” Eddie assures him. “That’s…good, Harrington. I mean, just so long as…you’re alright with it, right?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Honestly, I am. Things with Nancy…they didn’t work out for a reason. We just weren’t right for each other, in the long run. And I do still want to, you know…to find ‘the one,’ I guess. Somebody who really gets me, who just…fits,” he steeples his fingers together, imitating puzzle pieces interlocking, “slides right into place, kinda like they’ve been there the whole time. Like it was with Robin, and the kids–only romantic, this time, of course–but, like…that feeling you get when somebody comes into your life and…you honestly can’t even remember what it was like before, without them. Does-Does that make sense?”

The way his eyes dart over to Eddie, a spark of anxiety in them, it feels like…it matters, to Steve, that it does.

“No, yeah, I totally follow you, man. That all sounds…pretty awesome, honestly.” And even though Eddie has vocally branded himself as a cynic for years now when it comes to romance, it honestly does, making something flutter in his chest at the picture Steve has painted. He ducks his head, hiding behind the sweep of his bangs as he asks, “You, uh…you got anybody particular in mind to play the starring role in your future love life?”

When he risks a glance back up at Steve, he finds himself on the receiving end of that same look so familiar to the many swooning girls of Hawkins, a confident tilt to the pink curve of Steve’s lips, the glimmer in his dark eyes knowing but sweet.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think maybe I do,” Steve leans forward on the back of his chair, conspiratorial as he lowers his voice, “Now, all I gotta do is figure out if they’re interested too.”

Twisting a strand of hair absently around his finger, Eddie lets out a nervous giggle, the sound coming embarrassingly close to a titter. “Come on, man. You’re Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington. It’s pretty much a guarantee with you.”

“You’d be surprised,” Steve snorts. Then, he bites his lip, expression tetchy with a new anxious, anticipatory sort of energy. “Hey, I’ve, uh…got something for you.”

The next moment, his face disappears. Eddie attempts to lean forward, see exactly what it is Steve’s doing, but the straining feeling in his stomach won’t let him. Accepting defeat, he contents himself with tugging on a loose string on the starch white hospital sheets, trying–and failing–not to wiggle in place impatiently.

When Steve pops back up again, he’s holding a plastic War Zone shopping bag Eddie can only assume was tucked somewhere beneath the chair he’s been sitting in. After plopping the item gently in Eddie’s lap, Steve reaches inside and pulls out one denim corner, tugging the piece of clothing out to show him.

It’s Eddie’s battle vest, the one he had abandoned in the RV when they marched off into their own real life battle.

“I haven’t had a chance to wash it,” Steve’s nose wrinkles slightly at the blood stains, left behind from his own scarring over bites, “I can do that for you, if you want. Before you get out of here.”

Eddie looks from the vest–outfitted with all his painstakingly selected pins and patches–to Steve, then back again. He remembers how Steve had looked in the darkness of the Upside Down, hair wild, open wounds and chest hair barely covered underneath the denim flaps. Like some otherworldly warrior.

“You can keep it,” he says, looking right at Steve as he nudges the bag in his direction, “it looks better on you anyway.”

“No, man, come on,” Steve argues weakly, once again demonstrating Eddie’s newfound ability to fluster the Steve Harrington, a skill he’s definitely planning to continue taking full advantage of, “it’s your thing, I-I can’t–”

“Hey, man, I’m serious,” Eddie catches Steve’s hand in his own, a gesture that might be a casual, jocular exchange except that Eddie keeps his grip firm, the touch lingering, “you keep it, Steve.”

He swipes his thumb once over Steve’s pulse point, a reflexive, absent movement that draws Steve’s gaze downward. When he pulls his hand back, the fizzle of energy remains in the air around them, electrifying.

Steve ducks his head, almost shy as he tucks the vest back into the bag.

“Alright,” he agrees quietly, “far be it from me to argue with the invalid.”

“That’s right,” Eddie crows, triumphant. He snaps his fingers in the air for emphasis, letting some of his showy, over-the-top dramatics come back into his demeanor to dispel the intensity of the moment. “Patient privilege, Harrington. Besides,” he shrugs, trying to maintain a cool, casual air so he won’t choke on his next words, “now you can wear it to Corroded Coffin’s next show.”

Cocking an eyebrow at Eddie, Steve lets a slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. “Oh, so I’m invited to see you play now, huh? Not afraid I’ll cramp your style?”

Eddie shakes his head, earnest. “Couldn’t possibly, Stevie boy. You’ll be the most metal person there, since I’m pretty sure no one else is gonna have ripped apart a bat with nothing but their teeth. Not unless Ozzy suddenly breaks down in the middle of Bumfuck, Indiana.”

Though Steve looks mostly bemused, there’s also a faint, pleased flush of pink dusting his cheeks. “You know I still have no idea who that is, right?”

“Oh, don’t worry, big boy,” Eddie gives his arm a quick pat. “As soon as I’m outta here, I’ll teach you.”

“Alright, Eds, you’re on,” Steve agrees, dipping his head, almost coy as he looks up at Eddie through his lashes, “It’s a date.”

Despite the casual way Steve threw out the offer, like it’s no big deal, Eddie’s pulse trips into double time, racing in his chest.

“Cool,” he says, dazed, and, embarrassingly enough, he has to clear his throat when his voice cracks a little, “yeah, okay, cool. It’s a date, then, Stevie.”

Fortunately, having Steve Harrington beam at him makes sounding like a complete idiot totally worth it.

They sit in the silence for a moment after, just smiling at each other dopily. If anyone else could see them right now, their respective reputations really would be in tatters.

Eddie thinks that’s alright with him.

Despite the giddy energy in the room, however, a wave of exhaustion washes over Eddie, like the adrenaline from everything has finally gone out of him. He yawns, pressing the back of his hand over his mouth to try and stifle it.

Steve shifts in his chair, alert as he scoots a little closer, that now familiar concerned look settling over his face.

“Tired?” he asks.

“More than I thought I was, I guess,” Eddie admits, albeit begrudgingly.

“Yeah, well, surviving heroic stunts will do that to you.”

“You’d know all about it, wouldn’t ya, Stevie?” Eddie yawns again, not bothering to hide it this time, just grimacing a little when the motion stretches his side. “Besides, think maybe you wore me out, big boy, with all this sparkling conversation.”

The tips of Steve’s ears tinge, pretty and red.

“Want me to keep reading to you instead?” he offers, picking up the paperback from the edge of the bed and waving it at Eddie.

In the name of pure, good old fashioned antagonism, Eddie can’t help but tease, "I didn't know you could read, Harrington.”

"Hey, butt head," Steve smacks half-heartedly at his leg with the paperback, "which one of us graduated, you or me?"

"Point taken," Eddie laughs, light and pleased with himself, "but who said I could read?"

Steve cocks an eyebrow at him, the corner of his mouth twitching, like he’s fighting back a laugh of his own. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Takes one to know one,” Eddie sing-songs, parroting Steve from earlier. Then his eyes go round, inching forward on the bed excitedly. "Will you do the voices? Oh please please pretty please tell me you'll do the voices."

Steve’s face scrunches up, adorably lost. "What voices?"

Eddie slaps a hand to his forehead, flopping dramatically back onto the thin hospital mattress as best he can.

"What voices? ‘What voices,’ he says. Oh, Steven–"

"Steve," Steve corrects automatically.

"Steven," Eddie continues, ignoring him, "say it ain’t so."

“What?” he huffs, but a smile has crept back onto his face. “Stop speaking in riddles, dude, this isn’t one of your games.”

“The character voices, man! What else?”

“Oh, right, the character voices,” Steve repeats, deadpan. “Eddie, how the hell am I supposed to do some sort of voices for a book I’ve never even read before?”

“Steven,” Eddie says solemnly, ignoring Steve’s eye roll, “it’s simply not The Lord of the Rings if you’re not doing a full, dramatic reading of it.”

“Well, jeeze, teach me how to do them, then,” Steve challenges, flipping the paperback around to hand over to Eddie.

“Alrighty, big boy,” Eddie takes it, then pats the empty side of the mattress, “hop on up, and I will.”

Steve pauses, seeming surprised, and in that moment’s hesitation, Eddie wonders if he’s going to gently brush him off. But then he’s standing, rounding the bed to the side where Eddie’s palm is still resting, and gracefully sliding in beside him.

“This okay?” he asks, careful of Eddie’s side even as he wraps an arm around his shoulders to help get them comfortable, shifting close enough the book can rest open across both their laps.

“Mmm hmm,” Eddie hums, basking in the warmth that comes from having Steve pressed right against him, the clean scent of his cologne wafting through the air.

He gestures down to the paperback with a flourishing hand.

"Now, transfix me with your magnificent storytelling skills, oh brilliant wordsmith."

Steve shakes his head, letting out a snort of laughter this time.

"You are so weird."

“Aww, but you like it, Stevie boy.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a shrug of one shoulder, so earnest and unabashed it nearly takes Eddie’s breath away, “I do.”

Steve begins to read again then, voice loud and clear. And as the pair of them giggle and bicker over the book, Eddie interjecting corrections in the form of line readings in his particular theatrical cadence and Steve’s own performance getting sillier and more over-the-top the longer it goes on, for the first time in more than a week, Eddie knows deep down in his gut…that everything is gonna turn out just fine.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my stuff #my things #my fic

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slayfics · 5 months

Note

Hii babes can I get a Katsuki comforts a self-conscious reader if you can do plus size that’s amazing if not it’s okay thehe

Katsuki explodes your insecurities.

800 words

You let out a heavy sigh as you got ready, brushing your hair in the mirror. Every so often you’d have one of those days where your hair looked hideous no matter what you did with it.

That was just something everyone dealt with from time to time, and usually you could brush it off and keep moving. However, today wasn’t proving to be so kind.

The longer you messed with your hair in the mirror, the more you felt dissatisfied with your appearance. Today all your flaws seemed to be screaming out at you.

You took a deep breath and did your best to swallow your insecurities. You couldn’t just shy away from today’s responsibilities and hide away because you felt unattractive. Yet, a sting hit your eyes as you continued your morning routine.

“The hell is that look for?” Katsuki asked, leaning on the doorframe of the restroom.

You jumped by his sudden appearance, “Nothing- just getting ready,” you lied.

Katsuki clicked his tongue at you, “Why do you even bother lying to me. Tell me what’s on your mind,” he demanded.

You sighed, setting down your brush. How could you even begin to explain that you felt hideous to your extremely attractive chiseled by the gods boyfriend? Surely, that’s not a feeling he could relate to.

“Just not feeling well today,” you said, only a half lie this time.

“Mmm, your nose isn't running- and you look fine so, what do you mean?” He questioned further.

“But I don’t look fine!” You snapped, regretting it the instant you said it.

“Hah?! Course you do! The fuck you talking about??” He raised his voice in response.

“Nothing. Just forget it,” you said and tried to brush through him to exit the bathroom.

“No,” he said stubbornly blocking your way. “You’re going to tell me what’s going through your head.”

You let out an annoyed sigh. Why did Katsuki have to be so damn observant all that time.

“Sigh all you want. I'm not moving till you talk,” he said.

“Fine- I just… don’t feel attractive today. That’s all,” you finally admitted.

“The fuck? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” he barked at you.

“Maybe to you! You’re always hot as hell, you’ve probably never had one self-conscious day of your life!” You spat back.

“That’s not fair,” he said in a voice much lower. “Course I have. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean you. You’re hot as hell to ya know?”

“Thank you for saying so but- sometimes I don’t feel like it,” you said honestly.

“Why?!” He grunted. “Have you been looking at those damn influencers again or something?! You know that shit is all fake,” he said.

“I know I know, but it’s not ugh-,” you sighed in frustration feeling your emotions heighten, “it’s not just that- it’s like everywhere and everything reminds me that I could look better and be better. From ads on my phone for beauty products, to friends talking about their diets. It’s exhausting feeling like I’m not keeping up,” you spoke and felt a bubble rise in your throat, “or that I’m not enough,” you said softly. and the tears finally broke through.

“Come here,” he said, gently wrapping his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. The protection that his embrace offered caused the pent-up emotions to rush out, you sobbed freely into his chest.

“Quite down, there’s no need to cry,” he spoke, his best attempt at soothing you. His arms still tightly around you, he kissed the top of your head.

“Ya know- a lot of places make a good amount of money for making people feel this way. Make ya feel like ya gotta buy this or do that to be hot but- it’s all bullshit,” he spoke, as your sobs lessened. “You’re perfect the way you are, and if you aren’t gonna believe me then, I don’t know who you’d believe. Because you know I’m not a damn liar and, I especially don’t sugar coat things to no one. So… believe me.” He spoke.

You pushed off his chest to wipe the remainder of your tears, as he continued.

“Just gotta tell all those thoughts to fuck right off. It takes a lot of courage to ignore all that crap and be confident. But you’re the bravest person I know so- I know you can do it. You’re a goddamn sexy person inside and out. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, especially yourself. Got it?”

You nodded sheepishly and looked up, your eyes catching the damp spot on his shirt from your tears. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Katsuki clicked his tongue once more, “that’s another thing- stop apologizing so much. You’re allowed to feel and take up space and… that’s what I’m here for so- come to me anytime you need. Don’t make me drag it out of you next time… promise?”

“Promise.”

Thanks for the request Mint! I think we all need blasty to grab us and tell us we’re beautiful just the way we are 🥹🥰! Hope you enjoy 🫶~

tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @that-one-fangirl69 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z

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childrenofcain-if · 27 days

Note

Say what will happen if MC got kidnapped, and the kidnapper taunts Elias that if he didn't give them a certain amount of money within the given time period they will send one of MC's fingers for every hour that exceeds that time limit.

I'm curious what type of person Elias is when stressed or threatened, can you tell us Author?

elias sat at his desk, the heavy wooden surface cluttered with papers he’d long forgotten about. the blinds were drawn, leaving the room dim, with only a sliver of light cutting through the dust-filled air. the silence was thick, and so damn oppressive that it wrapped around him like a shroud. his phone lay in the center of the desk, an inert thing, but it held his gaze like a viper poised to strike.

when it finally rang, the sound was almost a relief, breaking the tension that had settled in his chest like a stone. he reached for it slowly, the way one might approach a wild animal, carefully, deliberately. the cold metal of the phone was familiar in his hand, but today it felt different, heavy with the weight of what was about to happen.

he didn’t say anything when he answered. he just waited, his breath quiet, controlled, like the air before a storm.

“hello there, sir,” the voice on the other end was too smooth, too calm, like the surface of a dark lake that hid something monstrous below. “i believe we have something you’re missing.”

the words were almost a whisper, but they hit elias like a punch to the gut. he swallowed hard, forcing the rising panic back down where it belonged. he couldn’t afford to lose control, not now.

“what do you want?” his voice was steady, but underneath it was a barely-contained tremor of rage, of fear. he gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles going white.

“money,” the voice replied, as if it were asking for something as trivial as a cup of sugar. “how does 50 million sound? and i think twenty-four hours should be enough time to gather it.”

elias’s mind was already racing, calculating, planning, but there was a part of him that couldn’t move past the icy fear crawling up his spine.

“and if i don’t?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

there was a pause, a soft, deadly silence on the other end of the line, and then the voice came back, even colder than before. “then we’ll start sending pieces. a finger, perhaps. every hour you’re late.”

it was like a knife to the heart, the pain so sharp and sudden that elias almost couldn’t breathe. his vision narrowed, tunneling in on the phone, on the voice that was now laughing softly in his ear. he wanted to throw it, to smash it against the wall, but he forced himself to stay calm, to focus.

“put them on the phone,” he demanded, his voice low, almost a growl. there was no room for negotiation in his tone, no space for argument.

the kidnapper laughed again, a sound that made elias’s skin crawl. “you’re not really in a position to make demands, sir. but since i’m feeling generous…”

there was a rustling sound, muffled voices, and then a new voice came on the line, shaky, scared, so small it made elias’s heart ache.

“dad?”

for a moment, the world stopped. the air in the room grew so thick that it pressed down on him from all sides. he could barely think, barely breathe, but he forced the words out, desperate to hold onto the connection.

“i’m here, little apple,” elias said, his voice cracking just a little. “i’m here, and i’m going to fix this, okay? just—.”

before he could say more, the kidnapper was back, the cruel smirk evident even through the phone. “that’s enough of that,” the voice said, and then, almost as an afterthought, “twenty-four hours. don’t be late.”

the line went dead.

for a long moment, elias just sat there, staring at the phone in his hand. the silence in the room felt heavier now, thick with the weight of everything he hadn’t said, of everything he needed to do.

he stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor, and began to pace, his mind racing, turning over every possible scenario, every contingency.

he couldn’t think about the fear, about the trembling voice that still echoed in his ears. he couldn’t think about what would happen if he failed. he just had to move, to act, to find a way to bring the little light of his life back.

as the hours ticked by, elias made call after call, his voice sharp, each word an authoritative command. there was no room for error, no space for hesitation. he needed results, and he needed them now.

the clock on the wall kept ticking, each second dragging him closer to the deadline. each tick echoed like a heartbeat, a reminder that time was running out. but beneath the fear, beneath the anxiety gnawing at him, there was something else—a fire, a cold, burning determination that had gotten him through every single trial before this one.

he would get you back. there was no other option.

as dawn began to break, elias made one final call. it was to the man he always kept as a backup, the last option when nothing else gave him the result he was looking for.

elias’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but there was a steel in it that hadn’t been there before. “make them pay,” he said, each word like a stone dropped into a still pond. “make them dearly regret even being born.”

there was a pause on the other end, a soft intake of breath, and then, “it will be done.”

he hung up the phone, his hand shaking slightly as he placed it back on the desk. the room was still, the only sound the ticking of the clock, marking the seconds until he could inevitably bring you home. and as he stared out at the pale morning light, a single thought blinking in his mind.

he was going to burn the city to find you, and no one would dare to stand in his way.

#so... i guess the short answer is that nobody involved is going to be left alive #after the inevitable torture ofc 😋#fbi is scared of elias’s wild card #if: the ballad of the young gods #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive story #twine wip

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frogchiro · 1 year

Note

FALLS ON UR FEET, LISTEN TO MY BRAIN MISS FROGCHIRO, omegaverse/werewolf 141 AU

141's sweet sweet mate spending time with her pups, 4 out of 5 pups are asleep snoozing. Lifting one up into the air as it tries to blink away its weariness away, wanting to protect his mama but once you start singing Love Like You By Rebbaca Sugar (yes its a steven universe song) the poor pup can't resist sleep,

"if i could be half of what you think of me, i could do just about anything, i could even learn how to love"

Ghost seeing this little scene through a crack in the store and OOH HOHOHH he has to bite his tongue so he doesnt let out any happy chirps, it makes him feel /so/ warm on the inside.

PLEASE THIS IS SO DARN CUTE OH MY GOOOOOD

Nesting with your newborn puppies has become one of your favorite things; whether it's your instincts, your love for your babies or most probably both, doesn't really matter. All that matters that your litter is already with you and their fathers, all safe and comfy in your nest ;;

Gaz, Price, Soap and Ghost almost can't be torn away from their new family, their instincts and hormones raging at even the thought of leaving their omega and babies but being a soldier is a demanding job and even though they already filed for extended leave, there's still so much to do. You assured them that the babies and you will be alright, they're still tiny, barely a few weeks old and not very active yet so all you need to do is feed them and cuddle with them in your nest.

After a few hours Ghost became terribly restless and decided on checking up on you and the pups 'just in case' and that's when he walked onto a sight that will be engraved into his mind until the rest of his days.

You, beautiful, sweet you was holding one of your babies, the rest four pups were in a cuddle pile and sound asleep but the one you were holding was looking a you with a look of sheer child-like wonder and adoration, although due to your singing Simon could see from the gap in the door that his little son was slowly drifting away, lids getting heavy and finally his tiny chest was rising and falling with slow, steady breaths, finally asleep.

The blonde man had to physically restrain himself from chirruping at the sight, chest already vibrating with deep purrs as he continued looking at the sight of you smiling and nuzzling against your son before putting him back down to his sleeping siblings and laying down yourself to drift off to sleep with a small smile still on your lips.

Simon had to forcibly move away from the door and back to his duties before his instincts would take over and he'd just go and cuddle with his family all day. He promised himself in that moment that the second his and the rest of the packs duties end, they will B-line to the den and cuddle, nuzzle and scent to his hearts content.

He loves his family so so much <3

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #RAAAAAAH #this was so cute thank you <333 #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon riley #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick

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absolutebl · 12 days

Text

This Week in BL - I Still On1y Care About...

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Sept 2024 Week 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 7 of 12 - Deeeelightful. They are so damn cute + a nice kiss! The rise of the green flag semes continues. I like it when Diew flirts and shows that he does have some experience in a relationship, and he can/will flex his power. Props to God for being a man who remembers to TAKE HIS DRINK with him.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 4 of 10 - Yep I still like it and all its toxicity. It’s fun to see how closely it follows the original. Now I really can’t wait to see how this one ends. Since this time around we get an actual ending.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 6 of 12 - How did they know that what I wanted more than anything was a side couple = spoiled prince + demon lord? How clever they are to give them to me. Meanwhile, in a shocking twist, the leads have known each other since childhood. Because why be original?

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 8 of 12 - Oh it’s very cute. I love Ing. I love that Ai was honest with his bestie. Best friend's older brother trope is a go! Also good kisses all round.

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 1 of 12 - Ohm has his shirt off less than 5 min in. I guess GMMTV is learning what we want. My boy Title is the creep character again. I’m assuming that’s why GMMTV brought him on board at this juncture. Sigh. New boy, Q, looks like Mek’s younger brother. Ultimately? I'm not convinced on this one. It is doing what it says on the tin, but nothing more than that. I’m not wild about it, but I will keep watching.

The Trainee (Sun YT) ep 10 of 12 - The more OffGun BLs, the more time they spend communicating as characters in those BLs. It’s kind of charming. They've become the pair that advocates for communication in relationships. I like it as evolution for their brand. Flirting via the printer was very fun. Especially as the Thai script is so beautiful.

Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 5 - I guess this is a lockdown narrative? Odd choice. A lot of familiar faces but from more minor rolls. Is this from the Destiny Seeker people? It feels like that. It’s a bigger cast than I was expecting, and a sort of classic university BL of the kind star Hunter produces. Or the end of love people. Pretty classic Thai pulp stuff. I’m mildly enjoying it. Hali is too hot to be the dorky second lead. Nice to see Boat back on my screen. However, it is… what’s the word I am looking for? Oh yes. Boring. Plus singing.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 5-6 of 12 - I entirely lost my mind over this show this week. Fuck me it's so good. The delicacy sends me. I keep expecting it to be clumsy and then is just isn't - it's so subtle and it demands we pay such close attention. I feel like I'm holding my breath the whole time I'm watching.

Cliff's notes on these 2 eps as follows:

The pure unadulterated tsundere of it all.

The awesome angst, it aches.

The series of repercussions after the fight was pacing genius.

The brilliant juxtaposition of "the kid who self isolates too easily" versus "the one who has been forced into isolation" meets both of them being smart enough to know why they react out of hurt, but neither can stop doing it.

Baby’s reaction to learning he’s going to be left behind = to instantly make plans to do the leaving in the future hurts my heart in the best possible way.

"Maybe what we call eternity is just persistence."

Maybe one boy simply deciding to be another boy's rock is romance.

Production better nail the second half of this show! It better be the world against them from here on out or the audience is gonna riot.

And by "audience" I mean me.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 5 of 10 - Oh noes! Poor baby boy!!! My heart hurts. But also gah so cute and next week they shack up together! Hooray!

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 11 - too much time spent on the girl again. I don’t need excuses for why she’s a bitch. So can we talk about Taichi instead? It’s such a good characterization, this boy who understands everything about other people but doesn’t notice anything about himself, including his own abilities of observation. The person who is special never realizes how special they are, I guess. The soundscapes are so good with this show. The moments where prod decided to be silent are so vital and so pivotal and used with such delicacy and strategy, it’s truly audio magic manipulation.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 7-8 of 12 - I loved how Orca just jumped on the stage. What a great side couple. CHARMED I TELL YOU. Orca was all… singing? Naw. I came back to fuck the manager's brains out. Anything less than that is unacceptable.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 10 fin - Essentially this was a growth story for Takara and an exercise in patience while the two of them learned each other’s quirks and languages. It was also an exercise in patience for me... who doesn’t like the power differential of a weaker younger character having to do all the pursuing while constantly feeling like he is inferior to the older popular hot character. I know this was a BL that was definitely for some people, since plenty liked it way more than I did, but I didn’t like it very much even though there’s nothing objectively wrong with it. It simply wasn’t to my personal taste. 7/10

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 5-6 of 8 - Enter an ex or something? Well he certainly has a type. Bah. This whole series seems to be mainly about cheating. It’s very annoying because they are all so pretty.

Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - Based on a manga, longer than usual run time. A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL. Messy gay pain here we go.

Oh it’s exactly what I expected. Do I like it? No I do not. And ya know what? There is plenty airing. I have a bad feeling about this one. DNF

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Sat Gaga) eps 1-6 of 8 - Gaga picked this one up so we can watch it there. I'm waiting until the end, it seems angsty and confusing and full of awful people being awful. But also... high heat and I'm shallow. So we shall see which devil wins (and how it ends).

The Hidden Moon (Sat ????) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) ‘เดือนพราง’ by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger)... A Bangkok writer is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai which is being converted into a café. He gets into an accident and nearly dies on his way there. After that, he sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, one boy catches his attention. Was substantially recast. Couldn't find it. Didn't really look.