#mob!ellie

[ok-i-draw]

Can we see some general interactions between cartel members?

Sure! Here’s some interactions with the Silver cartel!

Some of their dynamics & their relationships!

Why Maria?

Starstruck!

On the job!

Spectrum Magnus by @freakmexdraw

[puppetmaster13u]

Meme Prompt 10

[lesbian-toddhoward]

what i think would have happened if mob bought an xbox kinect, done in ms paint

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Sounds of Justice - Master List

Warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, mentions and descriptions of jail, car crashes, lying, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), mentions of rape (not to the reader), and unwanted advances (nothing happens to the reader).

A/N: This is my response to the mafia AU poll that I posted. It was a challenge to write it but it was worth it. Comments and reblogs are very much welcomed and I hope you enjoy the fic. Please take notice of the warnings; they are exactly the same as the warnings on this page and they will be at the top of each chapter.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

[goddesspharo]

We have known each other many years, but this is the first time you've come to me for counsel or for help. Let's be frank here. You never wanted my friendship and you feared to be in my debt. Let's be reasonable here, Natasha. I mean, that's your big thing, isn't it? Reason backed up by murder. [Top Gun: Maverick mob!AU]

[elflikesfrogs]

you should be able to be friends with every single mob in minecraft. no more violence i want to have buddies that follow me around and love me

[abbysbug]

streamer!ellie x streamer!reader

summary: my HCs about streamer!ellie and streamer!reader dating!!

warnings: hints at sexual stuff, lighting people on fire (in minecraft), threatening to bomb people.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

• once you guys start dating, you both constantly talk about each other on stream.

• "y'know, ellie would love this song."

• "me and y/n made something like this the other week."

• "broo, y/n is literally so perfect like im so IN LOVE."

• neither of you ever shut up and luckily your viewers love hearing about your relationship or it would've driven them insane by now.

• ellie and you made a minecraft series together. it was the cutest thing ever. ellie would be mining and killing all the mobs, and you would be building the house and animal pens.

• "y/n, baby. c'mre i got a little gift for you."

• ellie would run over to you and would be holding a flint n steel.

• "what are you-"

• she would then light you on fire and run away giggling. of course, you would chase her down and kill her.

• ellie would post about you so much

@carpetmuncherwilliams guys y/n doesnt love me anymore :((

@yngamez replied all i said is that we CANT get a pet pigeon

@carpetmuncherwilliams replied who wants to get me a pet pigeon ill give u a sticker !!!

@yngamez replied if anyone gets her a pet pigeon i will personally find ur IP address and bomb ur house

• you guys moved in with each other two weeks after dating.

• whenever you're streaming, ellie will sometimes sit on your lap for the stream. it's her way of showing everyone that you belong to her. she'd totally make out with you on stream but you're too nervous for that.

• one of your viewers gifted you and ellie a matching 'i love my gf' t-shirts. you both wear it whenever you're streaming.

• whenever you leave hickeys all over ellie's neck, she never covers them up when she streams. she likes to show them off. people do start to tease her for it tho.

@elliesbiglefttoe we all know what type of person ellie is in the bedroom. look at those marks.

@dinosaurmeatss u should change ur name to bottomwilliams instead

• "what the hell guys. im literally a dominant top stop this bullshit, i will personally murder you all. wait am i even allowed to say that? twitch don't ban me."

• ellie gets embarrassed that people are calling her out but you think its hilarious.

@yngamez is my little baby getting upset cause people are calling her out? :((

• "bro, y/n. i will ban you, do NOT test me, right now."

@elliesbiglefttoe oop someones got an attitude

@yngamez replied dw ill deal with that attitude later

• ellie doesnt reply to those messages, but her face does turn a bright pink and she avoids eye contact with her camera for a good 10 minutes.

• you guys are literally the CUTEST couple on the internet. people make edits about you all the time.

• ellie and you have read fanfics out loud on stream.

• “guys im so honoured that you think i’m hot enough to have a fanfic written about me.” ellie would be be giggling.

• “some of these are kinda unrealistic. like why is everyone writing you taller than me?” you’d roll your eyes.

• “cause i am taller.”

• you’d playfully hit ellie on the head “shut up. no, you’re not.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

@lavenderhazelsworld @bellaramsgf @ellslvr @lia-winther

[heritageposts]

[...] More specifically, the cycle of violence in The Last of Us Part II appears to be largely modeled after the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I suspect that some players, if they consciously clock the parallels at all, will think The Last of Us Part II is taking a balanced and fair perspective on that conflict, humanizing and exposing flaws in both sides of its in-game analogues. But as someone who grew up in Israel, I recognized a familiar, firmly Israeli way of seeing and explaining the conflict which tries to appear evenhanded and even enlightened, but in practice marginalizes Palestinian experience in a manner that perpetuates a horrific status quo. The game's co-director and co-writer Neil Druckmann, an Israeli who was born and raised in the [occupied] West Bank before his family moved to the U.S., told the Washington Post that the game's themes of revenge can be traced back to the 2000 killing of two Israeli soldiers by a mob in Ramallah. Some of the gruesome details of the incident were captured on video, which Druckmann viewed. In his interview, he recounted the anger and desire for vengeance he felt when he saw the video—and how he later reconsidered and regretted those impulses, saying they made him feel “gross and guilty.” But it gave him the kernel of a story. “I landed on this emotional idea of, can we, over the course of the game, make you feel this intense hate that is universal in the same way that unconditional love is universal?” Druckmann told the Post. “This hate that people feel has the same kind of universality. You hate someone so much that you want them to suffer in the way they’ve made someone you love suffer.” Druckmann drew parallels between The Last of Us and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict again on the official The Last of Us podcast. When discussing the first time Joel kills another man to protect his daughter and the extraordinary measures people will take to protect the ones they love, Druckmann said he follows "a lot of Israeli politics," and compared the incident to Israel's release of hundreds of Palestinians prisoners in exchange for the captured Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit in 2011. He said that his father thought that the exchange was overall bad for Israel, but that his father would release every prisoner in every prison to free his own son. "That's what this story is about, do the ends justify the means, and it's so much about perspective. If it was to save a strange kid maybe Joel would have made a very different decision, but when it was his tribe, his daughter, there was no question about what he was going to do," Druckmann said.

And continuing, on the security structures featured in the The Last of Us Part II:

Besides the familiar zombie fiction aesthetics of an overgrown and decomposing metropolis, The Last of Us Part II's main setting of Seattle is visually and functionally defined by a series of checkpoints, security walls, and barriers. There are many ways to build and depict structures that separate and keep people out. Just Google "U.S.-Mexico border wall" to see the variety of structures on the southern border of the United States alone. The Last of Us Part II's Seattle doesn't look like any of these. Instead, it looks almost exactly like the tall, precast concrete barriers and watch towers Israel started building through the West Bank in 2000.

Illustrations, from the article:

The first barrier Ellie and Dina encounter when arriving in Seattle / West Bank barrier.

. . . article continues on Vice (July 15 2020)

Backup -> archive.today link /archive.org link

[antiquarianfics]

Accidental pt. 4

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: it’s my birthday, so let’s celebrate with their date 🤭

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

part 3

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"Oh, and one more thing," you say, catching the man's attention before he gets back into the SUV. He raises an eyebrow, you smirk. "Tell James he better damn well bring flowers."

—

You sigh as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out your blouse. You turn to the side to see the back of your outfit and straighten back out again.

“You’re wearing pants to a fancy date with a crime lord?” Ellie asks, judgement lacing her question. You turn and raise an eyebrow at her, crossing the room to find the loafers you planned to wear.

“Yeah. Problem?” You ask, not really caring about Ellie’s opinion of your date attire. After all, it’s really more of a business transaction than a date.

“Yes! He’s probably expecting a dress, heels! Something low cut! You’re supposed to look sexy! You,” she pauses, gesturing to your body with an exasperated hand motion, “look like a JCPenney commercial.”

You scoff, a smirk teasing your lips. “Ellie, I don’t care. First of all, I can run a hell of a lot easier in loafers than heels, in slacks than a dress. Second of all,” you pick up your handgun where it lie on your dresser and check the safety, “I can’t hide this as easily in a dress.” Once you’re satisfied the safety is on, you tuck the gun away in the back of your pants, pulling your blouse back down over it. You look in the mirror again and fiddle with the tucking.

“Should I French tuck this?”

“Yes,” Ellie says distractedly before continuing. “But, Y/N, this guy is dangerous. You should play it safe. It’s just a date, so be who he obviously wants you to be.”

You sigh, turning back around to look your sister in the eyes.

“Ellie,” you say, tone dead serious. “Why are you so afraid of him? What did he do to you?”

Ellie blanches and doesn’t say anything. You sigh again turning back around to the mirror to fiddle with your hair, making sure it’s out of your face.

“I never saw him,” Ellie says suddenly. You watch her through the mirror where she sits on your bed staring at her hands. “I never saw him,” she starts again, “but I don’t think I was important enough for him to spare me his attention.

“I was at home making dinner when his men came for me. There was knock on the door, and when I answered, they stuck a bag over my head. Next thing I knew, I was in a dank, small room. There was a mattress on the floor for me to sleep, a toilet. Nothing else. I was there for maybe two days before someone came for me. I was taken to a conference room. There was a man there. I forget his name, but he was tall. Blond. He asked if I knew why I was there, I said I did, and he asked if I had any way to repay what I owed.”

“What did you owe?”

“750,000 dollars.”

“Ellie! How do you—? What? How?” You’re shocked, unable to comprehend how your baby sister could owe anyone so much.

“I… I met this guy, Zemo. We were just friends, but he started taking me around his friends. His friends hung out in these speakeasy type clubs. They played poker and stuff. I don’t know. I usually just watched, but after a few times, they talked me into it. Told me it was easy money, and, Y/N, I needed the money! So, I played, and I was doing really well. So I kept playing long after Zemo and his buddies left. I made so much down there, but I got too cocky and I lost an all-or-nothing. I played again to try and win it back, but it was like I’d lost my mojo, like I’d been playing on beginner’s luck.”

“Ellie,” you say sympathetically.

“I was $750,000 in debt and I couldn’t pay it, but the man I’d lost to—I think he felt bad—he said I could have 72 hours to get him his money. If I didn’t get him the money in time…” She trails off and you realize you’re clenching your jaw. You consciously unclench it. Ellie takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly. “He said if I didn’t get the money to him in 72 hours he would just have to find another way for me to pay him back. I don’t really know what he meant by that.

Anyway, the blond man asked if I could repay the money. I said no. He looked… sympathetic? He told me I’d have to go back to the cell until they could find use for me. I was there until they brought me home.”

You sit next to her on the bed, circling your arm around her. “Elle, I’m so sorry. I wish you’d come to me for help. I would’ve helped.”

“You don’t have that money, either. Plus, you are helping.”

“I guess.”

“What time is it?”

“6:30.”

“Are you nervous?” Ellie asks.

“I accidentally kidnapped the most powerful man in the city and threatened his life, sis. I’m not nervous at all,” you say sarcastically.

Ellie opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the ringing of your doorbell and a knock on the door. The two of you exchange a surprised look and you double check your watch: 6:34.

“He’s early,” you say, standing as you take a deep breath and try to swallow your nerves.

“Hey, you’ve got this. I know it,” Ellie reassures you, but she makes no move to follow you as you leave the room and go to make good on your end of yours and James’ bargain. You’re settling her debt and she makes no further move to support you.

You sigh as you reach the front door, swallowing your nerves and the tiny bit of resentment for your sister forming. Swinging the door open, you come face to face with the same man you had kidnapped and assaulted the day before: James Barnes.

James is looking around him when you open the door, but his attention is immediately on you as the door opens. His striking blue eyes meet yours, take in your person, and meet your eyes again. He grins.

“You look beautiful, Doll,” he says. He sounds breathless, completely blown away. You give him a questioning look, still so unsure of his motives.

“Thank you. You clean up nice. Not being tied up to a chair suits you,” you say. Your words come out funny. The ‘thank you’ sounds somewhat genuine but the compliment comes out somewhat strained, like you’re not sure you should be saying it.

James ignores your tone and lets his grin widen. He then takes a hand out from behind his back—you hadn’t even noticed his hand was behind his back—and hands you a bouquet of blue hyacinths. You just stare at them for a while as your brain attempts to catch up with your eyes.

“You actually brought flowers.”

“You threatened me again,” he teases.

“James, I…” You trail off, speechless. You wonder how you keep getting away with threatening him. Most people would be, at best, locked away, at worst, dead.

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“My name,” he says, “is Bucky.”

You let your eyes trail from the hyacinths up to his eyes (you can’t help but notice they’re the same color), and you think that he looks shy—timid. James—Bucky—looks like he is nervous to ask you to call him by this other name.

“Bucky?” You ask, and, against your better judgment, as you ask it, you pull back your front door and step aside, inviting him into your home. He looks equally surprised you’d do such a thing, but he enters, taking a few steps into the corridor before pausing to look around and to wait on you. You close the door behind you and lead him to the kitchen where you pull out a vase for the flowers.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s—erm—a nickname. It’s what my friends call me.”

“We’re friends?” You ask skeptically.

“Well, no, but we’re going on a date. ‘James’ is just a little formal,” he says, wrinkling his nose at his own name.

You offer him a friendly smile (which surprises you). “Well, Bucky, you’re lucky I’m ready because you’re, like, half an hour early.”

Bucky has the decency to look embarrassed, but he ignores the accusation. “Well,” he says instead, “shall we go?”

You nod and follow him out to his car. Once you make it to the vehicle, Bucky opens the car door for you, carefully shutting it behind you. He takes his spot in the driver’s seat a moment later.

You let out a breathy laugh and he side eyes you as he starts the car.

“What?”

“Nothing! I just sort of expected you to have a driver. You’re just… surprising.”

He smiles at your admission. “Careful, Doll. Someone might think you like me.”

“Doubtful.”

It’s not a long drive to what is certainly a high class establishment—an establishment nicer than any you’ve been to before. Bucky gets out of the car, rushing to let you out. As you get out of the car, he offers his keys to the valet and his arm to you. You glance briefly at his arm and give him an annoyed look as you loop your arm through his.

Bucky escorts you to the double glass doors that lead to the restaurant where a doorman waits to open the door for you. You say “thank you” as you pass and Bucky gives you an unreadable look. Then, once inside the restaurant, Bucky whispers something to the host who nods and leads you towards the back and up some stairs that lead to a glass enclosed landing where two guards stand on either side of the door leading to the rooftop seating. Bucky lets go of your arm and steps forward as the male security guard mirrors him. The guard pats Bucky down, finds a handgun tucked away in a holster at his waist, takes it, and then allows him to step to the side so that you may take your turn.

Your breathing picks up ever so slightly as you watch Bucky get frisked, especially once you realize they’re going to frisk you, too. You start to worry when you realize they’re going to find a weapon on you—how is that going to play out? Will Bucky go back on his word? Will he kill you? Then, when they take away Bucky’s weapon, you remind yourself to breathe normally and regain some confidence. He brought a gun, too: he doesn’t trust you and you don’t trust him.

You step forward, making eye contact with Bucky the whole time. You hold your arms out ever so slightly as the female guard steps forward to frisk you. You raise an eyebrow—maybe you’re challenging him to do something—when the guard finds your gun and pulls it out of your waistband. She holds it up and offers you a “seriously?” look, which you see in your peripheral. You shrug at her, eyes still on Bucky. He’s smirking.

The two of you are then led by the host through the guarded door to a single table that sits on the balcony. The balcony has been well decorated with myriad plants and string lights. There’s soft music playing in the background. Bucky pulls out a chair for you and you sit, watching as he takes the seat across from you. The two of you just watch each other as the host offers you menus and promises a waiter will be with you soon. Once the host is gone, the two of you sit, watching, waiting.

“Lovely weather we’re having,” you finally say, picking up the menu. If he isn’t going to say anything, you decide, you’re going to play coy.

Bucky raises his eyebrows, letting out a laugh and looking away before returning is gaze to you.

“You brought a gun to our date,” he says.

“So did you,” you reply, still looking at the menu. “Is the chicken alfredo any good here?”

“What for?” He asks, ignoring the alfredo question.

You sigh, setting down the menu. “Why did you?”

“You held me at gunpoint the last time we met. How was I to know you wouldn’t try to finish the job?”

“I held you at gunpoint the last time we met, but I had you tied up. How was I to know you wouldn’t take the shot now that your hands aren’t tied?”

“We’re here because I already shot my shot.”

“Clever.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’ve given you every reason to.”

He laughs humorlessly. “If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done it already?”

“Why am I here, James? Why don’t you want to hurt me? Aren’t you supposed to be some big, scary crime lord? Because you’re not living up to your name.”

Bucky clenches his jaw and looks away. You think you’ve maybe finally struck a nerve, finally gone too far.

“Have you ever once considered, Y/N, that maybe—just maybe—I’m a person, too? Did you ever think you were capable of threatening someone’s life until necessity made you?” You flinch. He notices. “I have a shitty job. I do shitty things. I do even shittier things to even shittier people. But it’s the job I was given, the job I have, and the job I do. Maybe I’m a monster, a freak, an emotionless robot, but maybe that’s just what I have to be so I don’t go crazy. At the end of the day, I’m just a man who wants to live his life, so forgive me for wanting to do that.”

Bucky is breathing erratically. He’s worked up. You stare, mouth slightly agape, surprised. You have a feeling he’s felt this way a while and never had the chance to voice it, but you also realize that your existence in his life might be more to him than just some girl who wants her sister back, some girl who extorted him.

“You actually like me,” you say, genuinely surprised.

He looks at you, eyes softening and looking a little embarrassed.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got terrible taste.”

He laughs. “That so?”

“I never even introduced myself. You clearly only know my name because you know who my sister is and put two and two together. I’ve been terrible to you. I mean, I have my totally logical and understandable reasons, but I’ve been terrible.”

“That’s true, but I was holding your sister hostage. Not the best conditions. I’m sure she’s thrilled about all this.” He gestures to the table in front of you, the two of you.

“She recognizes I’m cleaning up her mess.”

Bucky looks at you, expression sad.

“Cleaning up her mess,” he repeats quietly. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, louder, more confident.

“What?”

“This date. You don’t want to be here. You’re not interested. I get it. You’re cleaning up your sister’s mess. You can just go,” he says, looking far off onto the horizon. “Don’t worry about Ellie. Her debt’s forgotten.”

You don’t move. You sit, you stare, you chew your lip, and you consider the man in front of you. You consider the handsome, powerful, sad man in front of you who—to your surprise—is genuinely interested in you. You make a decision.

You hear your chair scrape against the floor as you stand up and start to walk back towards the door. You take a few steps past Bucky, turn around, and walk back to the table. You stop right beside Bucky and hold out your hand. Bucky looks at your hand outstretched to him and trails his eyes up to you, and you watch as he carefully searches your face.

“Hi,” you say, smiling. “I’m Y/N. Mind if I join you for dinner?”

Bucky’s face breaks out into a grin as he takes your hand, grasping it firmly as he shakes it. “Bucky,” he greets, playing along. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis @onceithough @thedonswife13 @kaithesimps-blog @buckitostan @julvrs @unaxv @searchn0tfound @10ava01

[ok-i-draw]

Doodles of the Silver Cartel hanging out with one another!

[supremacyproject]

On this day 103 years ago “a prosperous Black neighborhood in Tulsa, Okla., perished at the hands of a violent white mob.

The mob indiscriminately shot black people in the streets. Members of the mob ransacked homes and stole money and jewelry. They set fires, ‘house by house, block by block,’ according to the commission report.

Terror came from the sky, too. White pilots flew airplanes that dropped dynamite over the neighborhood, the report stated, making the Tulsa aerial attack what historians call among the first of an American city.

The numbers presented a staggering portrait of loss: 35 blocks burned to the ground; as many as 300 dead; hundreds injured; 8,000 to 10,000 left homeless; more than 1,70 homes burned or looted; and eventually, 6,000 detained in internment camps.” Via The New York Times circa 2021.

The losses recounted represent black victims. Over time the event, initially called the Tulsa Race Riot has been accurately renamed the Tulsa Race Massacre. A riot, by definition, is a noisy, violent public disorder caused by a group or crowd of persons, as by a crowd protesting against another group, a government policy, etc., in the streets. A massacre is the unnecessary, indiscriminate killing of a large number of human beings or animals, as in barbarous warfare or persecution or for revenge or plunder.

More than one hundred years after this act of terrorism, the last three survivors continue fighting to have their case for reparations heard by the Oklahoma Supreme Court. In October of 2023, one of them, Hughes Van “Uncle Redd” Ellis, Sr., passed away.

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

The Taste of Revenge - Master List

Warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, mentions of non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, mentions and descriptions of jail, car crashes, descriptions of drowning, lying, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), spoilers for Hannibal, references to Leverage, past Frederick Chilton/Rafael Barba, NSFW moments and angst.

NSFW warnings: filthy thoughts, rough sex, consensual smut, threesome, m/m, m/f, dom/sub, use of pet names (good boy and good girl), dirty talk, possessiveness, a hint of angst, Frederick has a voyeurism kink, fingering, handjobs, finger licking and sucking, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected penis in vagina sex and mentions of injury.

A/N: This is the sequel to The Sounds of Justice. I recommend reading that fic before reading this one as this sequel references a lot of events from the previous fic. You can catch up with that fic by clicking on the link here. Please take notice of and heed the warnings; they are there for a reason and they will be at the top of each chapter. Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

What if? A Jim Sterling AU

[elliereblogs]

Glad to know we still celebrate this historic moment

happy anniversary !!

[urfavoritegirlkisser]

"Midnight Rain" II - Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader

an - wow i did not expect you guys to like this idea so much, if you haven't read part one i would go ahead and read it first before reading this part!! Enjoy!

I don't consent to anyone sharing my work anywhere else, I only post my writing on this tumblr account, do not steal my work

Tags: Fem!popstar!reader, rockstar!Ellie, we're burning slow here my loves, fake dating trope, no outbreak au, angst, slight anxious!reader, Ellie is a little bit of a player and kind of an asshole sorry pookies, lightly proof read, listen to "lucky" by britney spears it literally inspired this entire idea

So apparently you lied to yourself and no one forgot it happened

Two months. It had been two months since you had seen that article and left Ellie’s hotel room, and people couldn’t seem to let it go.

Edits of the two of you filled your for you page, fans brought signs to your shows asking about you and Ellie, and honestly, you were sick of it.

It didn’t help that your management thought it was a great idea because it gained traction for both you and Ellie’s fan bases.

So now you sit in a meeting with Ellie and your managers as they discuss another appearance from the two of you together.

This was your least favorite part of being a pop star, the fame, and your fans were amazing, but most of your choices weren’t your own; they were for the “brand” your management wanted to maintain.

“Sounds good to me” Ellie speaks up, breaking you from your thoughts as you look at her like she has two heads and scoff

“I’m sorry but weren’t you the one telling me that you had your precious reputation to uphold and couldn’t be tied down with anyone?”, you could feel your anger at the situation growing but knew you should keep yourself from completely losing it

“We both benefit from the attention, that’s more important to me than some silly reputation sweetheart,” she says with that infuriating smirk that lets you think for a moment that her words are truthful

“Fine,” you say, “But this is only going to be a thing for a few months, after my tour is over we are over, got it?” 

Your managers go over the agreements and discuss appearances before the both of you sign, basically binding yourselves to each other for the next six months.

The first appearance was simply Ellie coming to one of your shows

She hangs out with her bandmates Dina and Jesse in the VIP box where they are visible to the fans attending but are secure enough so they don’t get mobbed and can enjoy the show comfortably.

You make sure to direct most lyrics in the more romantic songs on your set list toward Ellie and can tell that your fans are eating it up.

After the show, your manager escorts you backstage where Ellie is waiting, noticing that it’s visible by some fans lingering in the upper levels.

Your manager pushes you toward Ellie and you plaster on a fake smile, running up to her and hugging her tightly.

Ellie kisses your cheek lovingly and it sends a jolt of sadness through you as you look into her eyes, wishing the look of care on her face was real.

“Smile, people are watching” she whispers into your ear while letting her hand slip to your waist and letting the other cup your jaw to tilt your face to hers.

You shake off the creeping feeling of anxiety at so many cameras on the two of you and smile softly, letting Ellie lead you into a quick kiss before parting and being led back to your dressing room by your manager.

You get back to your hotel that night and scroll mindlessly through your feed of constant videos from tonight, some of you performing, some of Ellie in the VIP box, and plenty of when the two of you met after the show.

You scroll through the comments of fans raving about how happy the two of you look with tears in your eyes

If only they knew

an - I listened to my sad girl hours playlist for this, I hope you enjoyed it!! Now go drink water you girl kissers xoxo

[elsplaything]

benefits // ellie williams x fem reader

summary: you’re ellie’s plaything and you’re SICK of it. so, you go to confront her about it, and you can’t seem to get your point across…

warnings: male groping, intoxication, switch!ellie, strap usage (r!receiving), oral & fingering (e!receiving).. there’s probably more i just don’t remember

not proof read im sorry

you missed her. you didnt want to accept it, didnt want her to win, but you really, really missed ellie.

this friends-with-benefits-dirty-secret thing that you guys had going on was so confusing. she would barge into your room, all hot and bothered and cruel, forcing you to submit to her. she would have you face down on her bed, panting and broken and pathetic, but then right after she spoke to you like you were her angel. "youre so perfect, i cant believe i have you." "my perfect girl." "dont leave me, baby, let me hold you a while longer.."

but then, the morning came, and ellie was gone. you were left alone, in an empty house with an empty bed. she left you aching, yearning for more. the worst part of it all, though, was how she treated you outside of the bedsheets. like she didnt know you at all; you were a mere stranger to ellie in the public eye. every party, every gathering at jesses', she would just brush you off like another bystander.

yet you still missed her. even now, as youre standing alone in jesse's kitchen downing a redbull mixed with vodka, watching ellie flirt with yet another drunk and horny girl in the living room. did she even know you were there? did she even care?

"hey, babe. what're you doing back here?" dina's sweet voice brings you back into focus, forcing you to look away from ellie for what seems like the first time tonight.

"oh hey, uh- jus' getting another drink." you threw your cup into your mouth, chugging the entire bitter taste then pouring another. you needed to forget everything tonight, and this was the only way to do it.

"whoa there, cowgirl. lets go get you on the floor.. and away from the drinks!"

dina dragged your drunken state onto the "dance floor" (jesses living room) and you both danced closely to one another.

your hands moved up your body as you jumped and swayed against random people in the dance mob. you felt hot and sticky, but it was at least a good distraction...

ellie could see you from across the room. her jaw clicked as she saw your ass in that short black dress peek out as you grinded on a random frat guy. bile rose in her throat as she saw him place his big hands on your soft hips. those hips that were bucked up against her own, just a few nights ago...

"hey, get- get your hands..off.." you slurred at the guy, just now realizing that he wasn't dina, he was a big drunk asshole who's touch was getting too much too fast.

"cmon, ma, lets take this upstairs-"

"dude, she doesnt want to go up with you." somehow, ellie found herself in the middle of the dancefloor, holding your hand and defending you to this random jerk.

you looked up at her with your pleaded doe eyes, and she almost fell to her knees and died right there.

"hey, d, think i need to take her home for the night." ellie talked into dina's ear over the loud music.

"yeah, i think that would be best..." dina gave you a small smile and then proceeded to yell at the weird touchy guy.

ellie plopped you into the passenger seat of her old trunk, and you rested your head onto the headrest and looked over at her.

she sat down and turned the key over. "lets get you home, 'kay, pretty girl?" her long fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face.

you scrunched up your eyebrows and looked straight ahead, pouting. "dont do that, els."

with one hand on the steering wheel, she looked over at you and her expression softened. you looked so cute, all drunk and tired in your best dress. she loved that one, she even picked it out for you a few months ago.

"do what?" her voice was soft and almost mocking.

you sniffled, looking out the window to try and hide the tears falling down your cheeks. you were a sad drunk, thats for sure.

"dont call me that. don't act like i matter to you.. its all bullshit." your words were slurred and messy, but at least you sort of got your point across.

she pulled into her driveway, turned off the car and fully turned to you.

"youre drunk. get inside, ill run a bath. we can talk in the morn-"

"no! im not gonna-- talk in the fucking morning! tell me why you dont fucking love me or care!!" you spat out, full on sobbing in the passenger seat.

ellie had that little crinkle between her brow that you adored so much. she looked at you with sorrowful eyes, she knew this had gone too far.

"i.. fuck. i do love you, y/n." she caressed your cheek with her hand, trying to comfort your burning skin.

suddenly, you felt a little more sober. you unbuckled and got out of her truck, and started to storm off into the empty street.

"what the fuck are you doing??" ellie yelled after you, grabbing your forearm before you got too far.

"i'm sick of your lying, ellie. you've told me that before, told me you loved me and you would never leave and blah blah, then you go and ignore me, flirt with all the fuckin' sluts in the fuckin' world and then you tell me you don't want a relationship because you hate labels and i'm fucking sick of it!"

you finally snapped. your breathing was erratic, your eyes were glaring into hers, and all ellie could think of was how incredibly hot you were when you yelled at her.

she walked closer to you, and she could literally feel the heat emitting from you.

"then why do you keep coming back to me?" her voice was low as she looked into your eyes with something you've never seen before. they grew dark, even in the moonlight, and you didn't even know what to say.

she grabbed your jaw before you could get a word out and practically hit her lips against yours. you moaned at her forcefulness, pulling her hair to deepen the kiss.

before you knew it, you were dragged inside and thrown onto her bed.

ellie's lips sucked hard on your collar bone, marking you as hers. her hands roamed all over your sides as she writhed on top of you, needing to be inevitably closer to your warm skin.

"fuck- you're so fucking pretty when you're mad." she mumbled against your skin, her hot breath burning you.

your fingernails dug into her biceps, anger searing at her comment. you wrapped your legs around her waist and pulled her hips onto yours harshly, digging your feet into her ass.

"fuck you." you breathe into her mouth and flip her over so you straddled her waist. you unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her thighs, your fingers plunged into her grey boxers and rubbed along her folds. she was soaking wet.

ellie whimpered underneath you, propping herself up on her elbows so she could get a better view of you on top of her. she liked it when you took control, though she'd never admit it.

you quickly shoved two fingers inside of her, making her cry out the prettiest moan.

"you take it so well, huh, pretty girl?" you panted out, leaning down to kiss her slick forehead. her bangs were stuck with sweat, she looked so beautiful.

she clenched her eyes shut as you went deeper, earning breathy moans and "fuck, right there" from her.

ellie's long fingers clung to your shoulders as she came fast around your hand. she's never come that fast, only when she ate you out..

she began to move you over, but you stopped her by moving down her legs so your face was met with her cunt. "nuh uh, not yet." you told her; she looked at you with confusion before she cut herself off with another pretty whimper as you sucked harshly on her swollen clit. she was sensitive from her previous orgasm, and her hands pulled at your hair at the overstimulation.

"fuck- i cant- stop it, y/n!"

"you can take it." you mumbled into her pussy as your fingers found themselves buried deep inside, again.

ellie was getting a taste of her own medicine. and she liked it.

she liked to watch you as your eyes fluttered while your mouth and fingers worked on her. your dress was scrunched up at your hips, exposing your tiny panties and big ass. god, just looking at you had her cumming on your mouth.

"god, youre fucking killing me." ellie groaned and leaned her head back onto the pillows as her back arched into your tongue. you had to hold her waist down with your free arm while ellie rode out her high onto you.

you climbed back up so you were straddling her again; she was panting like a dog and her green eyes were glazed over as she looked up at you like you were a literal angel sent from heaven.

your hand cupped her cheek, brushing away the loose hair. her eyes fluttered closed, taking in your soft touch.

"you liked that, huh?" you whispered to her and kissed her nose.

"mmhm," she mumbled sleepily, "but it's your turn now."

her hands suddenly grabbed you and flipped you over so ellie was the one on top, and it felt oh, so familiar.

soon enough, her biggest strap was plowing into your abused cunt, your face was pushed into her mattress, her hands on either side of your head.

your screams filled her ears, making her thrust faster. she pulled you up by your hips so your pretty ass faced her. you supported yourself on your elbows and your head hung as she hit your spot over and over again.

"never gettin' away from me again, angel." she panted to you, and all you could do was moan in response.

"too- too much, ellie.. god!" your fingers gripped the sheets and you tried to get away from the brutal thrusts of ellie's strap, but as soon as she saw what you were doing, she grabbed your waist with one arm and pulled your back against her chest.

"dont you fuckin dare. do not run from me." her voice was clear in your ear, and your head fell back onto her shoulder as she pushed up into you. "thats it, thats my girl."

her free hand went to your clit, pushing you over the edge. you screamed her name, probably waking up the entire apartment complex.

ellie's long arms wrapped around you as your eyes drooped. you loved to listen to her heartbeat when you laid your head on her chest, completely fucked out.

"i really do love you, you know that, right?" her voice was so gentle, she was scared to lose you after tonight. after all you said.

you sighed deeply, still laying on her. "then stay."

[antiquarianfics]

Accidental

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping

a/n: idk if this does well, maybe i’ll do a pt 2?

part 2

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

You glance down at the picture in your hand of your younger sister before putting the picture back safely away in your jacket pocket. You take a deep breath and pull the right ear loop of your black mask up around your right ear to secure your mask to your face. Then, you pull your hood up over your head, check that your gun is still securely in its holster, and slide around the corner. You were going to find your sister. You promised.

You walk with purpose towards the bar that you’d heard men who work for the man responsible for your sister’s disappearance were known to hang out. In fact, you’re pretty sure the man responsible owned the bar, so you have a good feeling anyone you kidnap to question will be able to give you some amount of information. You have a feeling, though, that you’re not getting into the bar, so you slink around the back. Surely someone will need a cigarette break?

As luck would have it, as you slink around the corner, someone is already taking a cigarette break. The man stands tall, leaning against the side of the wall, a cigarette lit. He isn’t smoking it, though, merely holding it lit in front of his face, studying it. The man is wearing a black suit, his jacket unbuttoned. Perhaps he had just gotten off work?

Good, you think. He must be freshly off work; I’ll have a few hours before anyone thinks to look for him.

You walk quietly, stealthily up to the man. Before he notices you, you take the butt of your gun and knock it hard against the man’s temple. He crumbles.

—

It isn’t easy, but you manage to drag the man to an empty townhome where you tie him up in the basement. You have his hands bound to the chair, each wrist tied carefully to the chair’s arms. His feet are bound at the ankles. You don’t bother gagging him. You sit a good distance away on an uncomfortable futon, your mask still on, your hood still pulled up. You’re cleaning your gun when the man finally stirs.

The man groans as he raises his head, bright blue eyes scanning the room, settling on the only exit up the stairs behind him, noticing the lack of windows, and then falling on his captor in front of him: You. The man says nothing, merely stares. You stare back, raising an eyebrow. He breaks first.

“I’m awake now. What do you want?” His voice is gravely with disuse, his tone serious.

You laugh. To your own surprise as well as your captive’s, it’s a genuine laugh—your normal laugh.

“What? No “Who are you? What’s going on? How did I get here?” You ask, amused.

“You’ve watched too many cop shows.”

You laugh again. “Perhaps.”

“I’ll ask again. What do you want?”

“Information.”

“Can’t help you.”

“Sure you can.”

“Why’s that?” He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Found you outside The Red Star. The only people who hang around that bar work for the man that’s responsible for my sister’s kidnapping.”

He laughs humorlessly. “Kid, listen, if your sister was taken by the mob, she probably owed them something she couldn’t repay. You’re going to have to accept your sister was in with the wrong crowd.”

You pull a knife from its sheath at your belt and put it to the man’s neck. He sucks in a breadth.

“Bullshit. Tell me. What do you know about my sister?”

“Nothing.”

You push the knife further against his neck. “Bull.”

“There’s a lot of women in Brooklyn, sweetheart. Can’t expect me to know which one you’re talkin’ about with no information.” He shoots you a cheeky smile.

You sigh and pull away. You pull out your sister’s picture and show it to him.

“Her name is Ellie. Now, spill.”

He leans forward a little to look at the picture before leaning back.

“Never seen her.”

You tilt your head at him and purse your lips.

“You’re lying. You know something.”

“Perceptive are we?”

You hum. He sighs.

“Well, I’m not just going to risk my life and my job for anyone. Who are you? Show your face.”

You roll your eyes, and against your better judgement, you pull your hood back and your mask down. You need answers. The man stares at you, taking in your features, and after what feels like forever, he seems to make a decision. He smirks.

“You’re looking for a man by the name of Barnes, James Barnes. He’s the owner of the bar you took me from, and he’s the head of the Barnes Family. He’ll have the answers you’re looking for.”

“Where can I find him?”

The man grins, a dashing smile.

“I’m right here, Doll.”