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omgeto · 7 months

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☆ GHOSTING — GETO SUGURU X READER

summary: after being made aware of your long term ex boyfriends plans to 'fix' the world, you knew that you had to try and stop him. but seeing him for the first time in a decade; all the love, the hate, the heartbreak comes right back to you both and you realise you care about him a lot more than you thought.

wc: 4.7k (of pure goodness....)

cw: afab!reader, mdni, angst to fluff (kinda) cult leader ex boyfriend!geto, kinda sorta canon (its the day that geto yk...) he eats you out like its his last meal, half hate fucking, full making love, and a whole lot of geto being culty and cunty. this one has a plot people!!

authors note: guys yk I love a good exes to lovers fic so the argument in this one hits different and the whole idea of you and suguru breaking up just before he runs off to run his cult really gets to me, so I hope you enjoy this one.

geto suguru hasn’t seen you in years, in almost a decade, and is still reeling harshly from how you left him when he needed you. but somehow he finds himself rushing to meet you when he gets the four word text from your number—which is still saved in his phone under ‘my girl’— saying, ‘we need to talk.’

he knows exactly what you want to speak about, he could easily put together why today of all days you’d want to see —after vanishing him for just over a decade. he figured gojo probably gave word to you, as from when you’ve been young and growing up together, you’ve all known that if gojo couldn’t get through to him, you could.

he opens the door to your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have locked it—you always had a habit of leaving it open for him. and there you are, standing in the dimly lit room, waiting for his arrival. the years have etched subtle changes onto your face and in your demeanour, but the essence of who you are remains unchanged. time may have separated you, but in this moment, it feels as though it has never passed.

“you can't do this,” is the first thing you say, your voice steady despite the unexpected surge of emotions upon seeing him again. you didn't think seeing him after all this time would affect you, but it did. his hair is longer, his frame more imposing, but that unmistakable smirk remains, a haunting reminder of the man you once knew.

“wow right to the chase,” he chuckles bitterly, his presence taking up the room as he enters the room further, “i forgot you never really had a thing for beating around the bush.”

you meet his bitter chuckle with a steady gaze, your resolve unwavering. the years of separation have done nothing to diminish the intensity of your connection, the push and pull between you two.

"it's not the time for games, suguru," you reply, your tone serious. "you know why i called you here."

he sighs, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. the weight of his plans, the burden he carries, is evident in the lines etched on his face. "i figured you'd call sooner or later."

the room seems to shrink as the gravity of the situation hangs between you. the man you once knew, the one who could make your heart race with a smile, now stands before you, shrouded in darkness.

"i won't let you go through with this," you say firmly, your eyes never leaving his. "there's another way, suguru. there has to be."

for a moment, his façade cracks, and you catch a glimpse of the person he used to be, the one who believed in a better world. but then the hardness returns to his eyes, and he steps closer, his presence overwhelming.

"you always were too idealistic," he mutters, almost to himself. "but i can't turn back now. the world needs this change."

"what happened to you?" you snap out, your words laced with a bitter edge that hangs heavily in the air. it's a question that carries the weight of your years of frustration, anger, and confusion. but you knew what happened to him; everyone knew.

his reaction is immediate, and the room seems to tremble with his anger. his gaze narrows, and the atmosphere becomes charged with tension. "you don't get to ask that," he spits out, his voice dripping with bitterness. "you left, remember? you abandoned me when i needed you the most."

“it wasn’t like that,” you argue, leaning forward, your body tense. “by the time i left you were already gone, being physically present in a relationship doesn’t mean anything if your mind is fucking checked out all the time. at that point i was just dating a shell of you.”

“is that how you justify it?" he retorts, his anger unabated. "you think leaving was the solution?”

you clench your fists, your own anger rising to meet his. "i did what i had to do to protect myself, suguru. you were spiralling, consumed by your own darkness. I couldn't save you"

his eyes blaze with a mixture of fury and hurt. "you think i needed saving?

“you still need saving,” you scoff gesturing to him standing right in front of you, “just because you couldn’t save—”

“don’t even go there,” he interrupts, his hand raising to stop you. he knew you were talking about riko, “i’ve made peace with that.”

“oh have you?” you accuse, “since it seems to me, you’ve been on a killing spree, ever since.”

“other people died y’know,” he hisses out, “remember haibara? he was your fucking friend, but you weren’t even there.”

“this isn’t about me,” you say disregarding his comment, regret seeping through you, “you think i haven’t kept tabs on you since i’ve been away. who have you become?”

he glares at you, his anger evident. "i've become what the world needs," he snaps, his voice heavy. "someone willing to do what it takes to change things."

"and is killing a village full of people the way to do that?" you challenge, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "killing your..." You pause, overwhelmed by the thoughts and images of what he's done. "was killing your parents worth it?"

his expression hardens, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it's quickly masked by his resolve. "i had to make sacrifices," he says coldly. "it's a small price to pay for a greater cause."

“you can’t truly think that,” you say, taking a step closer to him, your fists still clenched at your sides. “how did it feel killing them then? to take away the lives of your own parents who were innocent?” you probe, you knew that there was some part of him that must feel bad.”

“you’re about… ten years too late to be trying to have this conversation with me,” he shrugs, the turmoil that geto felt when he first set out on his mission has ceased. the guilt he felt for killing his parents, even the grief he had for something that he caused, wasn’t a factor for him anymore.

your frustration boils over as you press him further. "so, you've become heartless, then?" you challenge. the room seems to tighten around you as you await his response. "a cold-blooded killer who's convinced himself that the ends justify the means?"

geto's gaze narrows, his patience dwindling. "it's not about being heartless. it's about doing what's necessary to achieve our goals."

"your goals," you emphasise, "not mine. and not the goals of the innocent people you've hurt along the way."

he sighs, exasperation creeping into his voice. "you always had a way of making everything so complicated, questioning every choice. you left because you couldn't handle the real world."

you shake your head, unwilling to accept his justifications. "no, i left because i couldn't stand by and watch you become a monster."

“so i’m just a monster, yeah?” he retorts, stepping towards you, his anger evident across his face, you could see your words triggered him, and as he gets closer you could feel your facade faltering.

your heart races as he approaches, and you raise a hand instinctively, palm out, to signal him to stop. "don't come any closer," you warn, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. there was no rational reason to be scared of him, you’ve known him for years, and despite everything that he’s done —what he’s become— there was still a part of you that believed that he wouldn’t hurt you.

but geto ignores your plea, his determination unwavering. he grabs your hand firmly, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment. his dark eyes bore into yours, and he speaks in a low, taunting tone, "why? are you scared that with me being this close, you're going to realise that you loved a monster? that you're still in love with him?"

you grit your teeth, refusing to let him get under your skin. "suguru, you don't get to manipulate me with your twisted version of love," you retort, your voice laced with defiance. "i won't let you use my feelings against me.

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you're torn between the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. the memories of the love you once shared, the pain of his transformation into something unrecognisable, and the lingering attraction between you all crash together in this charged moment.

you try to pull your hand away, to regain control of the situation, but geto's grip tightens, preventing your escape. his face inches closer to yours, and despite your better judgement, your breath hitches. “manipulation, huh?” geto muses, his mouth so close to yours that you feel his breath faintly brush across your lips. you look up at him through your lowered eyelashes, and in that fleeting pause, so small that it’s almost imperceptible, you find yourself considering the gravity of your actions, if only for a moment.

the feeling of doubt is short lived, as you press your lips against geto’s, his mouth immediately moulding into yours. the kiss is searing, as you push your bodies against each other, he releases your hand from his grip, his hands move to cradle your head, holding it in place as he deepens the kiss, bruising your lips with his.

everything about geto is familiar, the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, the way he consumes you. his tongue explores yours, wrestling for control as your arms scratch at him trying to tug off his robe. you wanted him to feel you, all of you—your touch, your lips, your hurt, your anger, the love that you still have that you thought was small. but after seeing him, kissing him, you realise is still an overwhelmingly large part of you.

you pull apart to catch your breath, staring hard at each other, but there’s barely a moment wasted before your back on eachother. kissing each other feverishly, as you rip off each other's clothes, he pushes you hard, your back slamming against the nearest piece of furniture as his mouth latches onto your neck. his kisses cascade down your body, stopping at your breasts as he unhooks your bra, tossing it aside.

“i missed these,” he murmurs, as his lips descend onto your tits, his face nuzzling at your chest as he sucks and pulls at your nipples with his teeth. “and i missed this,” he continues to mumble, his hands cupping your clothed pussy, his finger lightly caressing your slit.

you arch forward into his touch, wanting to feel him more and chuckles saying, “even after all these years, you still respond to my touch just the same.” his fingers plunge into your panties, brushing against your clit and he smirks as your lips part a stifled moan escaping your lips—proving his point.

“s-shut up,” you hiss out, as you slowly start to gyrate against his fingers. although it was obvious from the way you were already soaking your underwear, you didn’t want to admit how good he is actually making you feel—you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. geto raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, as he watches you bite your lip trying to contain your moans, as his fingers inch into your inviting pussy.

geto’s body moves down yours as he removes his lips from your tits, continues to press kisses down your stomach, as he drops down to his knees —his eyes level with your cunt. he presses a kiss to your covered pussy, before sliding off your panties. his mouth is just about to latch onto you but he pauses looking up at you, his gaze unwavering, “you want this right?” you nod slowly, your anticipation brewing as your eyes lock onto his, “use your words.”

you release an exasperated huff, but he remains steadfast, his raised eyebrow a silent declaration that he won't act until you tell him what he wants to hear. the room seems to pulse with tension, the growing desire between you mounting with each heartbeat.

your hands slide it’s way into his hair, pushing your fingers through his scalp, as you grin, you voice is low and sultry as you say, “i want it.” his mouth envelopes your pussy and you push his head into you deeper, forcing your nose into your arousal. he inhales you, taking in your scent as he presses his face in your cunt.

“such a pretty pussy,” he mutters lowly, you could feel the vibrations spread through your pussy. his tongue strokes down your slit, before pushing into you, he twists and slurps at you trying to suck out all of your juices.

geto nibbles at your clit, tugging at it with his teeth before bringing his fingers back to cunt. shoving two fingers in roughly. you pull his hair harshly, the feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit leaving your mind blank. “ah f-fuck,” you cry out, as geto’s strokes grow more intense.

“c’mon let me hear you more,” geto prompts, pulling away slightly from your pussy, his lips plump and coated from your wetness. he grabs one of your legs and hikes it over his shoulder, the angle allowing him to force his fingers into you further, curling them up in your pussy as he goes back to shoving his face in your sobbing cunt.

you grind your pussy in his face, working with him in getting you off. both of your movements were frantic, geto is eating your pussy with such eagerness, hungrily trying to drink all of your cum. “i’m close s-sugu i’m—” you choke out, feeling yourself slipping down the wall you pressed against, but geto holds you upright, his large hand keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder and roughly pushing you up against the wall.

geto grins against your cunt, your moans and cries is a sound he didn’t realise how much he missed until he heard them now. you laboured breathing, stammered sentences told him that you were reading cum, but he just had to push you further. so he adds one more finger, sending it straight to your spot, twisting and pushing it in your pussy so hard that tears brim your eyes. he was so relentless, you always loved that about him, how he knows your body in and out, he knew exactly where to touch, and just how far he should push to have you becoming a mess for him.

you couldn’t take him anymore, so you cum, hard. your pussy releasing ropes and ropes of cum, all over geto’s fingers and his face, and he laps at it, munching all your cum with excitement. “i know you can give me more than that,” he muses, pressing his thumb down on your clit, rubbing at it aggressively as you cum. your eyes roll back, as he repeatedly flicks at your cum, and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face.

geto’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t stop playing with your pussy, until you bow your head in submission, worn out from all the cum you’ve released over him. your hands slide out of his hair, as you try and catch your breath and geto peppers your cunt and your thighs with kisses finally letting your thigh come off his shoulders. “damn your pussy’s still as sweet as ever.”

“stop with the talking,” you mumble, as you pull him up to his feet, your lips forcing their way back onto him. your hands frantically explore each other's bodies as you drag him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed. “i can’t fucking stand you,” you mutter to yourself, your denial evident, as you straddle him, pulling his dick out of his boxers.

you pause briefly at the sight, his thick, long dick staring at you. you hear geto chuckle at your reaction, your eyes meet his with a challenging look exchanged between you, he raises his eyebrow at you, a silent dare on whether you’ll actually be able to get the control that you’re aiming to have.

you hover over his dick, your pussy still dripping, geto bites his lip in anticipation as you tease him, slowly edging yourself down onto him. your pussy greedily, takes in his dick as you force yourself down on him as immediately fills you, stretching out your cunt with one push. you start to ride him, hard and fast, rocking your body forward as you bounce up and down on him, your hand pressing down on his stomach to keep you steady.

geto sits up, stifling a moan as he feels your cunt clench around his dick with everyone of your movements. he tries to thrust up into you, but he just can’t match the relentless rhythm you had, “f-fuck,” he exhales, a moan escaping his mouth, and you smirk —you have him just where you wanted him.

“you alright there suguru?” you mock, the grin spread across your face unmissable as you grind yourself down against him, tightening your pussy around his pole as you slid up and down. the bite on his lip hardens as he pulls it further between his teeth to suppress another moan.

but geto doesn’t submit for long, his hand slaps you across your tits and his fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and tugging them, causing you to arch your back as you wail. “d’you r-really think you run shit here?” he groans, flicking at your nipples with every word, “you’ll never be in control, not with me,” he taunts.

“oh really?” you retort, as you still continue to move your ass, meeting his hips. you can feel him start to pick up his pace, trying to match yours, his hips slightly thrusting upwards, his dick pushing into you deeper.

“yeah,” he says confidently through gritted teeth, one of his hands pulling away from your nipples and onto your ass, harshly grabbing one of your cheeks to steady himself as he drills into you further, “because you’re still my girl.”

you still at his words, you knew he didn’t mean it but you couldn’t help but react to the name that he always used to refer to you as. geto could see your eyes become vacant, as you think back to the memories when you were truly his girl. you used to revel in that —the feeling of being his. he takes advantage of your pause, your rhythm halted as he takes over, now setting the pace as he charges his dick into you, stuffing you further.

“suguru f-fuck you’re so—” you sob out, as he breaks down your wall, his strokes hitting your spot perfectly. your body buckles, crumbling at the force that geto was using as he repeatedly thrusts into you, his hand pushing you in further so his dick can get an even better angle in you.

“i’m so what?” he retorts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to string an answer together from the way he is fucking you dumb. geto couldn’t deny that he is getting some joy out seeing you all drunk on his dick, reduced to nothing but moans and incoherent sentences, he liked being the one to break you down. “am i still a monster, someone you can’t stand being around?”

you sloppily nod your head, trying to keep some resolve, but your efforts are pointless since all the insults and accusations you were spouting earlier are now futile, you lost your care in getting him to do the right thing, all you want now is for him to stay like this — inside of you.

“s-shit i can’t take it a-anymore im gonna cu—” you force out, clenching yourself around little his dick hard as you feel your orgasm building up. but geto’s movements stop for a second as he pulls his dick out of you, flipping you over, your back landing hard on your bed. he leans over you, his focus fixed on you, but at this point, his eyes don’t hold the same heartache, and hurt that they did when he first stepped into your house. the geto that is looking at you now, is the one who’d always look at you everyday, ten years ago —with love and longing.

he strokes his dick down your aching pussy, teasing you with it, but just before he puts it in, his hand caresses your face cupping your chin as he says, “when i said you were still my girl, i meant it y’know?” and your lips part in surprise at his admission. “although it hurt me, when you left me, you just never stopped being my girl.”

“suguru i-i don’t know what to say,” you stammer, and you didn’t realise until he swipes under your eye, that you were crying. there was so much more to your relationship with geto than just some highschool romance, you loved another, and no one could tell you otherwise.

“tell me that you are,” he prompts, now pressing kisses to your tear stained face, his lips moving down to yours, “tell me that you are still my girl,” he finishes in between kisses. his hopeful eyes still remain on yours, and you could feel him slowly inching his dick into you.

you wrap your legs around his back, your arms hooking around his neck as you pull his head next to yours, your mouth near his ear as you whisper, “i am still yours.” he pushes his dick back into you, his strokes deep and slow. it was different from before, there was no competition or hate between you as you fucked, you didn’t have a point to prove other than the fact that you still loved each other.

geto’s moans are loud, he has nothing to hold back as he growls lowly in your ear. the way he holds you, and takes his time kisses you and fucking you as if he was accounting for this potentially being his last ever time doing so. “i’ll never get enough of this.”

“then don’t go,” you whine, and your words hold a deeper meaning that you both knew but won’t acknowledge knowing it is pointless to discuss any further. you pull him into you deeper, your thighs clenching around him as your hold tightens.

the feeling of you pulling him in, has him clenching his eyes as your pussy takes him in, his mouth takes yours in a powerful kiss, before he mumbles “you gonna let me cum in you, leave you with every last bit of me.” you don’t even respond, just deepening the kiss, your head shaking in agreement.

you both cum together, geto spraying your walls as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into your exposed flesh as he continues to shoot ropes of cum inside of you. you claw at his back as you feel all of him enter you, your cum mixing with his as you cry out in full pleasure.

his forehead rests against yours, as the last bits of his cum enter you and neither of you say anything, all that can be heard is just heavy breaths coming from the both of you. you didn’t know what was to happen now, there was still so much left unsaid, unresolved and things have changed now that geto is literally stuffed inside of you.

geto is about to pull out of you finally, but you stop him muttering a faint, “stay,” and he does. he knows he had somewhere to be, things to do that are bigger than the both of you, but he just couldn’t leave when you ask him to stay. he manoeuvres your body so that you now lay atop him, comfortably cockwarming him as he thumb brushes gentle strokes down your arm.

“y’know i’ve got these two girls, who i think would love you,” he muses.

“what? did you manage to become a father whilst i was away?” you tease.

“something like that, yeah,” he mumbles, a small smile forming on his face as thoughts of nanako and mimiko flash through his mind — they’re a bittersweet reminder of the new life he’s built without you, one that you wouldn’t be able to fit in. it wasn’t that long ago that you’d have thoughts about geto fathering your own kids, dreams of somewhat of a domestic life that you’d now never get to have with him.

“well maybe i can meet them,” you say non-committedly.

“yeah maybe…” his voice falters, as you both know that it would never happen.

“do you enjoy it then?” you ask, “this ‘new’ life of yours.” you could tell just by the brief mention of nanako and mimiko and the way he carries himself that he does enjoy his life, but you were hoping that he’d still answer no.

geto hesitates for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he contemplates your question, “i…” he begins, his gaze returning to yours, “i won’t lie. it’s different, and there’s moments i find true solace in it, this has been my life for a long time now, so it’s just something i’ve really gotten used to.”

“and you’re happy to go back to it, after this?” your question is loaded, and you feel dumb for even asking but when you did call him over to get him to not go through with his plans, of course your motivations have slightly changed, but your goal is still the same.

“i don’t think you should ask me to make a choice, knowing that im not going to choose you,” he grits out, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but

“you’re not gonna win you know, satoru wouldn’t let it happen,” you couldn’t help yourself, the rejection he just gave you stung, and you wanted him to feel what you felt.

but geto doesn’t bite, he knows you’re hurting—that he’s the cause of it, so he lets you hurt, his hold tightening comfortably as you sulk in his arms. geto places a kiss on your temple, ignoring your comment as he concludes, “let’s just not, okay?”

geto stays with you until your breathing settles into a steady rhythm, and you don’t notice him slipping out of you. he cleans you up and tucks you into your bedsheets, giving you one final stare as if he’s trying to keep a mental image of how you look when he’s last seen you. his lips meet yours in a final, chaste kiss and he mutters a promise that he didn’t think you’d hear, but you do, stirring awake as his lips leave yours, “i’ll see you again… eventually.”

you wake up to an empty room, the warmth of geto's presence replaced by a stark emptiness. the realisation hits you like a wave of cold water – he's gone, leaving nothing behind but soiled sheets and a hollow ache in your chest. there's no note, no message, no trace of his ever being there, except for the lingering scent of him that clings to the air. you know that someone will eventually inform you of the outcome of the night, but deep down, you already suspect that his last promise to you will end up being broken.

AN: first like proper proper real juicy fic that ive written in a long time imo and its just like this took me so long since im soooo sensitive about my geto fics and im just like overly critical about my angsty and fluff and plot fics and my smut and JUST EVERYTHING but I managed to get it all done and I think some parts of this really hit hard. the ending is ofc bittersweet since if we go by canon, he goes and yuta beats his fuckinggg ass and he dies wtf but... the true ending is really up to your imagination. (not really) like dont even think about the ending just focus on the fact that they NEVER TELL EACHOTHER THAT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER BECAUSE UR SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ADMITTING THAT UR STILL 'HIS GIRL' IS ALL THE CONFIRMATION HE NEEDS. my finished an are sooo long why because I FUCKING CAN SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY, PLEASE LMK UR THOUGHTS AND SLAY ALL DAY also thank you @kazushawty and @biscuitsngravie for reading and supporting me 🥹🥹

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk angst #geto angst #jjk fic #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru #jujustsu kaisen x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen angst

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ellieswifie · 8 months

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︿︿ ੈ[ 🏐 ] ༉‧₊˚✧

kiwi | ellie williams

♪ kiwi — harry styles

summary: you and ellie williams are enemies in public and on the court, but certainly not in private. you’ve made ellie not only turned in the head, but completely lost for you. but how can you fall hopelessly for the one girl you hate most in the world…

warnings: volleyball!ellie x reader, 18+ mdni, curse words/cursing, pet names (doll), teasing, semi-proofread, awful volleyball terminology, parties, drinking, slightly drunk reader, smoking, sexual content, kissing, sorta dom and sub dynamic (?) but not really, uh “i hate you” kink, but that’s really it

authors note: note, i know little to like nothing about volleyball, but i can just imagine having like this sexual tension with your enemy, ellie, behind the net and it would be like everything. so uh- bear with me as i try to become a professional volleyball player writer. also i actually hate this so much, it was giving too much wattpad, so i clearly couldn’t finish it

˗ˋ.*✧·˚ ೃ࿔₊•

YOU WERE DRENCHED IN SWEAT, HEAD-TO TOE, STARING ANXIOUSLY AT THE SCORE BOARD UP AHEAD. you’re team has finally caught up, taking charge in the game once more. the score being twenty to twenty-three, your team falling behind by three. but you weren’t too worried. you’ve won the first two sets as if it was nothing, completely dominating the other team.

you let the volleyball in your hands bounce carelessly a few times, staring at the referee. she had been talking down with another ref about the following call, but the entire thing didn’t bother you. you needed the short moment to catch your breath. your coach had been keeping you in the entire night, with little to no breaks. this quick stoppage was much more then you needed.

the ref blew her whistle, singling that it was okay to continue play. your head nodded away from her, to catch your glaze on non other then ellie williams. number fucking seven.

the game entire game had felt more as a competition between the two of you. it had always been back to back with your arch nemesis. spiking balls right before she’d block them quick enough to stop them from going over the net.

every single time ellie would block or spike the ball, it made your insides boil. it was just flawless every single time she’d touch the ball. even if it meant chasing it down, she’d manage to bump the ball perfectly.

it just pissed you off.

you’ve managed to keep your eye on her the entire game and she hasn’t failed to keep eye contact with you too. when you were staring at her, her eyes were already looking darkly at you. even if it meant standing face to face net separating your guys intense glares.

you rubbed the ball against your jersey, keeping eye contact. ellie didn’t seem break her stare either. she rubbed her hands on her shoes, before squatting down in a ready position.

which pissed you off even more.

the way she was always ready for the ball, never messing up. when you stepped back into your serving position, you glanced at ellie one last time before jumping up to serve the ball, watching it quickly make its way towards her.

unsurprisingly, ellie bumped it up towards her team mate. your eyes followed the ball, watching a the ball lift carelessly on the air. ellie jumped up to spike the ball towards you, and you stayed standing, ready.

but right when the ball came flying down toward the ground, you weren’t quick enough to dive and get it. the other team jumped in excitement as they watched the ball fall right to the ground in front of you.

you groaned as the score went from twenty to twenty-three, to twenty to twenty-four. they were one point away from winning the entire set because you made one small mistake.

you rises from your stomach, bringing your team in for a quick huddle. "eyes on seven, she’s dangerous." you whispered toward your teammates, receiving nods from them. but it wasn’t enough. it was now ellie’s serve. and god did she have a killer serve. where she wanted the ball, it was getting there. and it just made you completely furious.

you watched ellie move to her position, having a stupid smirk on her face. you knew the ball was going to you. of course you did. she wanted you to screw up right here and make. your entire team lose this set. she wanted you to make a fool of yourself.

you wanted to feel ready, your body felt ready, but your thoughts were just crowded. you couldn’t stop thinking about the way ellie had been staring at you the entire game. like you were some dare.

it just made your blood boiling. everything about her made you go feral. her auburn hair, the way her sleeves were rolled up to reveal her tattooed arm, how stupid good her ass looked in the spandex’s, you just hated it.

hated her.

you heard your teammates shout your name and your mind quickly snapped back in time. but it was too late. the ball ellie had served had landed quickly on the ground, right beside you.

the crowded screamed as the opponent team took the set. but you watched as your teammates groaned and walked away towards the bench. you felt awful, walking back to gather your towel and bottled water, you couldn’t even look at your coach, but you knew she was staring at you long and hard.

"get your head in the game." you whispered to yourself as you walked towards the other bench, switching courts.

the other team was still gathering water bottles, so you stood, watching them, but more so ellie, who was taking her sweet old time. your eyes rolled when she stood right in front of you.

"intimidated?" she whispered, giving you a intense glare. you huffed watching as she let her brows wiggled. you wanted to chuck the ball into her face at the look at her, but you remained your sanity, letting her just walk off.

your coach yelled at you the entire time before the fourth set started. you knew you couldn’t think straight because of ellie.

you hated the idea of how intimidated you actually were, but you needed to play your game. you needed to play like you know how to play, and let the little thoughts to drift out of your mind.

but it didn’t help the you and ellie were finally on the same side after what? six plays.

her face was right in front of yours, the net separating you. your hands were up to the net while hers where down towards her side. a smirk played on her face as she waited for your teammate to serve the ball. score being ten to eight.

"got a little something on your shoe." you mutter to her, causing her to look down at her shoe. nothing appeared to be there, but when she looked back up, the ball had been on her side, in play.

if she was gonna distract you, why not play give her a taste of her own medicine. when your team earned the point, you all jumped to excitement, hugging each other in the process.

you watched as ellie laughed to herself, moving back to the side you too had been sharing. but the referee had paused the play causing you to groan, resting your hands on your hips.

ellie didn’t mind though. she loved this view of you. even if it meant her team had been losing by three points, she was younger tied at the sight of you. head over heels.

but you hadn’t know that. she hadn’t want you to know that.

"so have tables turned?" you then your head, earning a painful look fall across ellie.s face. with that, you felt your smirk rise. "are you intimidated now?" you inquire, eyebrows raising as you stepped closer to the net. ellie stood where she was, watching you step closer. ellie hands met towards the net twinging her fingers slightly. you watch her as she smirked at you, staring intensely at you. you couldn’t help but blush at the sight of her. you hated admitting it, but you knew ellie was hot. i mean look at her. she’s a walking hot shot.

"not intimidated," her head shook, looking between you and the referee. "distracted, doll."

your mouth literally hung open at the nickname. you hated yourself for even thinking the name was a way of flirting with you. you guys have been up each others asses since college ball have started. now in your junior year you believe she’s try and flirt with you? anyone would be foolish to think so.

"i’m not you doll." you whispered, hoping your teammates near you, wouldn’t hear. the ref had blew her whistle and ellie hadn’t said anything but just shrug, stepping back to regained some focus. you shake your head at her, turning to face away from her.

the rest of the set had just been the two of you exchanging looks, but keeping your focus hard enough to stay on track with the game. your coach had thought it was best to finally give you a break, catching how distracted you seemed. and as much as you hate sitting on the bench, you also thought sitting for the last few plays would be the best idea.

and not surprisingly, you in the bench caused the rest of the team to kinda fall apart. they got disorganized and needed their captain on the court, but your coach refused to put you back in. instead she let ellie’s team take the win, leading them into a final fifth set. then had she finally let you play once more.

it was a very frustrating final fifteen pints, but you guys managed to take the win, ending the set fifteen to ten. your entire team felt happy and excited as they wrapped up another win. but you couldn’t help but look at ellie’s frustration take over her. her eye brows were drawn together, lining up to shake hands.

your team made their way in line, saying good game to the team, you following last in line. as you shook hands with the opposite team, you felt yourself longing to shake ellie’s hand. usually you’d flip her off or say something foul to her in this moment, but the entire last set to you felt as some game to you. and not in the sense of a volleyball game, more so a flirting game.

deep down you felt as if you didn’t hate it, but you couldn’t let ellie know that. you may have won the match, but you knew you and ellie’s little game was still on.

"good game," you could recognize her voice from a mile away. your head looked up to see her walking over to shake your hand. you were going to raise yours to accept her hand shake, but you just crossed your arms. ellie couldn’t help but smirk at you bitchy tone. she lowered her hand and placed them on her hips, coping your tense posture.

"your a real bitch you know that?" ellie whispered, leaning into towards you slightly. you felt your body heat rise at the small gesture. you couldn’t piece together what exactly this girl made you feel, but the smallest things just made your heat boil.

her fingers slowly rises to your ponytail, giving it a small tug. you couldn’t stop looking at her the entire time her eyes just danced over your face. the entire moment felt as if nothing and nobody was surrounding you to. well not until she gave you a nudge. you snapped back into reality realizing you hate this girls guts.

you ran your hair through your ponytail, turning at the ends. "and you’re a tease." you whisper back to her. ellie’s face flashed with confusion as she stepped back slightly. "a tease? how so?"

"don’t play dumb, you’ve been eye fucking me the entire game, doll."

you hadn’t wanted to admit it out loud, but it just seemed to slip from your mouth quicker them lightning. however, ellie made no reaction to your comment. maybe a quiver to her lips, but her solid stance didn’t change. it made you frustrated in some way, but you kept yourself grounded.

"me?” a finger rose to her chest. "eye fucking you?" she responded, added a little devilish laugh. you simply just rolled your eyes, slightly turning over your shoulder to see your team start gathering together.

when you look back at ellie, her eyes are fixated on you. "well, i don’t care. i just beat your ass, good game." you begin to turn around, but ellie quickly grabs your upper arm, pulling you back to her. you gasp at the sudden contact.

your eyes scan hers before she quickly drops your arm from her grasp. you snatch your arm away giving her an irritated look. but her eyes were daring. "see," you whisper. "you’re a tease."

you wait a few seconds, waiting for her to say something. to your surprise she does. "and you’re still a bitch." she darted back, earning a look from you.

but you knew better. you ignoredher harsh comment. you reached your hand out, offering her a hand shake. she stares at it for a moment, before accepting it carefully. you shake it firmly, giving her a lazy smile.

her eyes swift you face as you lean closer. "if i’m such a bitch, do something about it." you whisper, breath glazing over her skin.

ellie was about to say something, but you quickly push her away, making your way back to your team, giving everyone claps and hugs. when you turned to look back at ellie. a smirk was on her face, cheeks read as ever.

you smile to yourself, letting your head turn away from ellie.

now you’ve won both games

this time you couldn’t hate your teammates for dragging you out. after the crazy game you just played, a few drinks at a college party didn’t seem to bad.

and it wasn’t for the first few hours.

you had shots around the table with your teammates, laughing and smiling as your body felt the drinks begin to take over. everyone had danced around the table, knocking bodies.

but the loud bounding cause your ears to bleed. your head had already been feeling fuzzy after the game, now a few seven drinks later, you had been spinning.

you turned to your closer teammate resting a hand on her shoulder to support yourself. "i’m gonna go catch a breath!" you shouted over the loud music. she simply nodded, but her mind hadn’t really processed what you said.

as you stumbled out towards the back door. your body quickly met with the cold autumn breeze. your friends insisted you wear the baby tee with the mini skirt, but it was way to cold for this.

you swung your arms around your arms, goosebumps filing your skin. "fuck." you whispered, looking straight ahead.

but as you heated footsteps step from around the corner, your entire body tensed up. a head peaked from the dark deck, revealing a freckled face.

when you saw ellie, you quickly felt yourself sober up. her presence was always so intimate. the way she stood, stared just felt like she had something more to say or do. like she was always buried down.

"what are you doing here?" you knew the comment came out meaner then intended, but ellie didn’t seem to care. she strutted her way closer to you, holding a pre rolled cigarette in her hands.

you eyed her as she stood beside you, before staring ahead. she had changed into more appropriate clothing. her legs were covered in tight jeans, firing around her ass perfectly. her shoulders were covered in a thick grey hoodie.

"it’s a party. everyone is invited." she responded to your past question. her hand tilted slightly, offering you the lit cigarette. but you just ignored.

ellie simply shrugged, taking another hit. "everyone that goes to school here is invited. seems to me you don’t check off that category."

"and what about it?" her eye brows were drawn together and you just wanted to scream. you hated how drawn to her looks you were, but her cocky personality made you want to shout.

"leave." you hissed pack at her, moving your face to her.

"no."

a laugh escaped your lips as you watched her smirk at you."you really piss me off." you huffed back, ignoring her dark eyes. ellie stared long at you before staring down at your outfit. "you know it’s fucking sixty degrees."

"you know u don’t remember asking."

ellie huffed at your childish behavior. you knew you were actually foolish, but also knew how she made you feel and that bothered you more than anything.

her very attractive looks made you want to do things god forbid. but every time she opened her fucking mouth, you were back at square one with her.

"talk to me," ellie whispered. you slowly turned you heat to meet hers, causing your face to lean closer to hers. "why do i tick you off so much?"

your eye brows drew together at her foolish question. she knew why you hated her. she was your biggest enemy on the court. she was better at the game then you, that’s why she ticked you off.

"because your a better player than me." you admitted, earning a smirk from ellie. "your entire personality makes me want to toss a ball at your big head."

ellie leaned on her heels, looking down at you. it was annoying one of her cocky intense stares at made your insides burn.

you were sick of this game, you caused yourself to look away. feeling stupid for even considering anything.

"you know," ellie replied. your head tilted slightly, but you weren’t giving her the upper hand. you remained your stare ahead, just letting ellie look at you. "i don’t hate you."

that made your head turn. she had to be fiat out lying because someone who doesn’t hate you, doesn’t tease and play like this to you. you remained slightly though. you watched as she let her cigarette burn out, while you waited for her to continue.

"this game we play, not referring to volleyball, i hate that. the intense little stares behind the net, the cocky attitudes, it just makes my blood boil."

a part of you enjoyed that you were on the same page, but you also hated it. knowing that you both feel this foolish connection terrified you in ways you couldn’t imagine.

and ellie just played it off as if it was some sort of joke.

"this. back and forth thing-" ellie raised her finger to point between you and her. "it ends now. we either say what we think needs to be said, or we cut cords, leaving things unsaid."

you knew exactly what she meant. and you wanted to say something more than anything, but you knew everything between you two was a game. who ever gave in first was the loser.

and you certainly knew it wasn’t going to be you, even if it meant leaving things unsaid.

you felt yourself look around you, noticing how quiet and alone you guys actually were. that scared you even more, knowing anything could happen and nobody would see or hear.

when you looked back at ellie, she was already looking at you, watching your eyes shift across the space around you. but everything felt so crowded inside you. your thoughts, surroundings, it just felt like a barricade ellie and you build that made you feel so surrounded.

you watched her eyes glance down towards your lips, before quickly meeting your eyes again. she was about to break first you knew it. so you took a deep breath, stepping closer to her shaky self.

"i told you what i wanted to say." you muttered, looking darkly at her parted lips. when you met back to her eyes, she was fighting every cord in her body to push against you and shut you up in any possible way.

"you frustrate me to the core. you have a cocky attitude that makes you think you just control everything around you. and you don’t, surprisingly." you let yourself breathe, stepping so close, you could feel ellie’s breath. "i hate you, i hate your eyes, your stupid attitude, your lack of empathy. i hate you."

you backed away from her, smirking up and down at her pissed look.

"you a bitch, you know?"

her comment came back at you like a bullet. even though she has reminded you several times, you still feel that hurt. but you sucked in a thick breath, crossing your arms.

you lick your dry lips for a moment, watching ellie eyes continue to anxiously look at your lips.

"then fucking do something about it, williams."

and before you knew it, her hands were on yours, pushing you against the deck railing. her lips smashed against yours, letting the crowded barrier fucking shatter.

you completely melted at the way her hand held your cheek, kissing you harder than you’ve ever been kissed before.

at first you felt the raging pain, her teeth biting your lip hard, but you couldn’t ignore the sensation building inside you, longing more. and ellie knew you loved it. your body was pushing against her as if time was running out. like if you pulled away, you guys would be back at square one. hating each other.

when you finally felt as if you needed air, ellie quickly moved her harsh kisses to your neck, sucking and biting down on your soft skin.

your breathing quickened at the feeling of her. your hands moving to hang carelessly against her neck, moving her closer to her.

ellie traveled her hands towards your ass, pushing you closer to the front of her jeans. you gasped at first, the feeling sending shivers down your core, but when she rolled her hips quick against you, you felt weak.

"fuck-" a whine left your mouth as she did it numerous times, holding the back of your thigh to wrap around her hip.

if someone had said you’d be dry fucking ellie outside of a college frat party, on a deck railing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

but here you actually are. clinging onto her as if she’s some drug you need to consume. her sending harsh kisses against your neck making you want more. need more.

your skirt rises up, exposing your underwear as ellie and your movements moved sloppy. her mouth moved from your neck, looking at the patches of purple spots she created.

a cocky smirk played on her face when she stopped rolling her hips, to look at you completely. your lips were parted, wanting them to be back on hers again. your skirt exposed your lower half, making you grow self conscious how fucked out you already looked and you hardly even did anything.

maybe it was the numerous drinks you already had, or maybe it was just the static feeling ellie made you feel. because the feeling was certainly neutral.

she tilted her head down towards your head as if she was leaving to kiss you again, but she just looked down, lips brushing together.

"tell me you hate me again." she whispered, daring. you brushed her head towards her, making your lips connect in a harsh embrace.

her tongue brushed against your lips before she pulled away once more. shaking her head. "tell me you hate me." she said, once again.

you groaned, as she let her hands travel down your skin. you finally came to since you guys were hardly alone when the load party music began to echo around you.

her hands stopped at your inner thigh, swung around her hip. she trailed circles there before meeting your eyes again. "say it."

you hated how easily you were about to give in. with ellie it was her in the lead, and you didn’t seem to hate it now that your standing, her between your legs.

"i hate you." you whisper, letting your hands around her neck, lower to cling on her shoulders. she kissed you hard when the filthy words escaped your mouth.

her hand had traveled closer to your core and a soft moan escaped pushing her mouth off yours. you wanted her to say something, do more, but ellie loved this.

"your so pretty when you make those filthy sounds." she whispered, close against your lips. your eyes looked down at her fingers escape beyond your sight, resting on your clothed skin.

your head tilted to the porch back down, growing worried that someone could walk out any second. ellie followed your glaze, noticing your anxious eyes.

"my car is parked out front." she acknowledged, meeting eyes with you. a smirk played on your face as you looked at her.

"what are you insisting, williams." you choked back, still catching your breath. ellie smiled at you, removing her hand. you froze at the loss of contact, but when her hand intertwined with yours, you couldn’t help but smile once more.

"follow me and you’ll find out, doll."

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addisonnie · 1 year

Text

you, me, & mary-jane

summary: dealer!ellie comes in clutch in more ways than one.

warnings: make-out sesh, cursing, terrible breaking bad references

a/n: surprise! another ellie fic because i refuse to do the schoolwork that i desperately need to finish! wooooooooo dealer ellie is yum. i actually kinda hate this! enjoy! oh god also listen to “meddle about” by chase atlantic while you read if you would like. ellie=chase atlantic okay bye

part 2 —> part 3

There are several things in life that you can live without. Weed is not one of them.

You’re huffing and borderline growling as you dig through various stash locations in your room. Closet, empty. Under the mattress, nothing but crumbs. In every single pants pocket? Zero. Zilch. Not one lush green nug was found.

What could be chalked up to a literal war cry left your lips as you sat on the floor with your head in your hands, “this is it. This is the end.”

Dina’s head poked up from the side of her bed, “what are you whining about down there?”

Leaning your head back onto the wall, you sent Dina a harsh glare, “you and Jesse smoked the last of it! And I’m flat broke, too!”

She sat up fully in her bed, eyes wide and crazy, “bitch! Don’t pin this on us! You said it was fine.”

“That was last night! This is today! Today I just want to smoke my silly little bowl and enjoy my silly little high.” You groan and knock your head against the wall a few times.

Fishing your phone from your back pocket, you open iMessage. Hopefully your plug isn’t busy right now. Last time you bought from him was in the parking lot of his youngest child’s soccer game. Maybe buying from a 40-something father of three isn’t always the best idea—at least he won’t rip you off?

Hey. You busy?

Tom usually responds right away. His clients doubled as his friends (you being his ex-babysitter) and he always loved to provide for them.

Who is this?

Well, that’s strange. Tom definitely has your number saved. And, Tom definitely knows who you are.

Don’t play, Tom. I want to buy!!!!

You watch the text bubbles pop up and disappear in the bottom corner of the screen a few times, showing that he’s typing out a response and deleting it over and over.

This is his wife. Don’t text this number again. He is married. And he does not sell what you want to “buy.”

You could really cry at this moment. Like, honestly and truly sob. A long huff leaves your lips and you knuckle at your eyes aggressively. Fucking bullshit. Tom’s wife was always kind of a bitch, to be fair. But you didn’t think she’d ever pull a Skylar White on you. What does a girl have to do to get some weed around here?

“Do you know any other dealers? I just got told off by Tom’s wife.” Dina laughed from her bed.

“My name is Skylar White, yo. My husband is Walter White, yo.” You couldn’t help but laugh, “that’s exactly what I was thinking!”

She sits up in her bed, hanging her tanned legs off the side, “here. I have mutual friends with this girl, think her name is Ellie? I heard she sells. Good prices too.”

Dina tosses her phone into your lap from where she sits and allows you to send the contact to yourself.

Hey. Is this Ellie?

———

Ellie takes a couple hours before responding.

It depends on who’s asking?

Your professor drones on about some random Shakespeare play and you can’t bring yourself to pay attention while you read over Ellie’s text.

Dina gave me your number, I heard you sell?

Man. I really hope you’re not a cop.

You chuckle at her text.

Not a cop. Twenty year old girl over here. I love One Direction.

That sounds like something an undercover cop would say.

Ellie made a good point. You scroll through your camera roll trying to find a recent selfie before landing on one you took a couple days ago. You’re clearly high in the picture, so maybe Ellie will take the hint.

Here. Proof. Not a cop :)

Pretty.

She sent her address in a separate text and informs you to meet her there around 7pm when she’s done with her night class. Your professor excuses the class and leaves the remainder of students to pack their things. 5pm. Usually you smoke before going to pick up. Clearly, that’s not an option today. What does one do while they wait if they have no weed?

———

Nothing. One does absolutely nothing if they have no weed.

You knock on Ellie’s front door and wait a few beats before stepping back from the doorway. The lock clicks before the dingy wooden door opens inward,

“Hey!”

Oh, damn. She is fine.

Her auburn hair is short and rests about an inch above her shoulders. It’s pulled slightly up into a bun and several short strands curl lightly along the nape of her neck.

“Hey! Ellie, right?”

She smiles, “that’s me.” The door is pulled open wider and she beckons you to come inside. A botanical tattoo swirls along her forearm and you find yourself staring at her awkwardly before you step into the house.

She tugs off her flannel and slings it over the back of a woven couch, leaving her in a fitted white tank top.

You suck in a breath, “how are you?”

How are you? Really? Who says that to a drug dealer?

She chuckles and slouches into the couch, patting the open spot beside her, “pretty good. How about you?”

“Honestly? I’m suffering.”

She laughs fully this time, “that bad, huh? Your dealer die or something?”

“God, I wish. His wife responded to my text and told me to fuck off, basically. That he doesn’t sell what I buy.” Ellie cringes and shakes her head, her lips pressed into a tight frown,

“she Skylar-Whited you? That’s pretty fucking rough.”

“That’s exactly what I said! Call me Jesse Pinkman, I guess.” Ellie shook her head again and leaned forward to grab a small mahogany box.

Her long fingers opened the lid and scrounged through the container before she happily hummed and held up what she was looking for. A joint was pressed between her fingers and she quickly snatched a lighter off the coffee table.

After she placed the box back on the table, she leaned back into the couch and stretched her arm along the back of it, her fingers barely grazing your shoulder. Ellie turned to face you and held the joint to your lips, “open up.”

Your face flushes as you do what she asked—demanded. Her fingers place the joint onto your awaiting lips and she quickly lights the paper, still holding the joint to your mouth.

What is this girl on? You can’t help but feel as if this is strangely intimate. Tom never held a joint to your lips! On second thought, it’s probably good that he didn’t.

You inhale and she pulls the joint to meet her own mouth as she watches you exhale.

“We can smoke this and then I’ll grind up some for you.” She passes you the joint this time.

“Oh—you don’t have to. I can take the nugs. I don’t want to trouble you.” You pass it back.

She smirks, the joint hanging from the side of her mouth, “no trouble at all. Happy to do it.”

“Is that what you tell all of your clients?”

Another smirk, “only the pretty ones.”

The joint is placed back into your fingertips and you are very glad, this way you can explain the extreme blush creeping up onto your cheeks as just you being overly high. Ellie has somehow moved closer to you, her thigh is pressed up against yours and the arm she has outstretched across the back of the couch skims the back of your shoulders. A chill rakes through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Here, take it.” The hand she has resting behind your head snatches her discarded flannel and drops it into your lap.

“Oh—thanks.” She hums in response.

———

Ellis is funny as hell. Each sentence that escapes her plump lips makes less sense than the last,

“would you rather be trapped in a locked room with a gorilla, or with…with a shit ton of cockroaches?”

She’s sitting opposite you on the couch, her back leaning against one armrest. One of her legs is bent and squished against the back of the couch, her other is sprawled off the edge of the couch. Bit of a man-spreader, this one. Your back is pressed to the opposite arm rest and your legs are stretched outward, resting softly in her lap.

Again, weirdly intimate.

“Oh. Fuck, probably the roaches? Just step on ‘em. Yanno?”

She gasps and latches onto your sock-clad feet, “sickening! Me and that gorilla are gonna be friends.”

You squint at her, “you gonna sell him some Mary-Jane?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and passes you the remainder of the joint. Your fingers skim over hers and she blushes a bit, nudging your finger with hers.

“Hey—so how much do I owe you?” You immediately regret ruining the moment the second the words pass your lips.

“Well, flattery works with me—“ you cut her off, “oh yeah? I would’ve kissed you earlier, had I known that.”

She flushes, “you can—um. You can still kiss me. If you want.”

And, just like that, your eyes turn into hearts and start beating rapidly. You surge forward and press your lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she flicks the joint out of her fingertips and grabs your cheeks, pulling you closer.

Her mouth melds to yours and immediately has you panting like a bitch in heat. She moves one of her hands to pinch at your hip, grasping and probing at you until you wind up straddling her lap. You press your chest into hers and squeak when you feel her hand push your hip down, effectively grinding you down onto her. A strangled whine leaves your lips as she pulls away and begins kissing down the column of your throat.

Her mouth is wet and firm while she sucks and nips on any naked skin she can find, moaning when she feels your fingers card through her hair. Your hips continually rut into hers and she quickly sets a different pace, gripping your hips and dragging you forward and back on her lap. Ellie moans when you grab her hair and pull. Her face is removed from your neck at the force of your tug and she pants to catch her breath before opening her eyes to meet yours.

“How’s free sound?” She gives you a crooked smirk and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

“Sounds like I’m ripping you off, Ellie.”

She groans and throws her head back onto the couch, “I love the way you say my name. And it’s not ripping me off, babe.”

And you’re blushing again. Babe. She called you babe.

She continues, “think of it as a little sampler. Free shared joint, some ground up weed, and some Ellie.”

You grab her cheeks and squish them together, “only if you swear this sampler is offered to me only. Can’t have anyone stealing my deals.”

She brushes your hands off and smirks again, “like I said earlier, pretty girls only.”

“You said ‘girls’ plural.” She laughs.

“I’ve got three clients. A grown man named Joel, one of the sociology professors—don’t tell anyone I said that. Then you. And I’m a lesbian, so…” She trails off at the end of her sentence and looks down at your lips again, hands splayed across your thighs.

You kiss her again. It’s short and chaste and it leaves Ellie chasing your lips for just one more. Two more. Three. How’s five sound?

She presses kisses to your puckered lips over and over, “all,” kiss, “the weed,” kiss, “you can,” kiss, “dream of.”

Ellie finally pulls away to fully look at you, “I mean it. You can have all the weed you want if you keep kissing me like that.”

————

When you finally clamber off of her lap and detach her hands from your hips it’s almost one in the morning. She sighs while she watches you stuff your ‘goody bag’ into your purse, slipping your shoes back on. Her fingers beckon you back to the couch and she taps your right leg until you bend it and rest your foot on top of her thigh. You were planning on walking home with your shoes untied, but Ellie’s nimble fingers quickly double knot each of your shoes; She presses a kiss to each of your knees before letting them straighten back out.

Her hands find your hips again—shocker— while she walks you to the front door. A kiss is pressed to your lips one last time and she gives you a firm squeeze when you lean in to hug her.

“Come back soon. Fuck that guy, I’m your new dealer for life.” You smile and step outside, “okay.”

She definitely tied your shoes too tight and you make a mental note to fix it when you’re out of her eyesight. As you’re walking down the sidewalk that leads you to campus she calls your name,

“Get home safe, yeah? Text me when you’re back!”

You will definitely text her.

#wooooo #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie tlou

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cinnamonest · 3 months

Note

Lena thank you for the spanking bit, has to be one of fav kinks ever because it just... fits every single yan regardless of who they are??? Kinda like a "universal" thing, just top notch. Do you think we could ever get headcanons for it?

Thank you for this anon, you're absolutely correct it is a top-tier kink

Also I've been wanting to write more about god-era Morax so thank you for the opportunity to do so, I rambled way more about him than the others here sorry lol

As for those who fit the kink best imo I’m going with Childe, Diluc, Ayato and Morax

//major spanking kink material (obviously) but gets kinda bad in severity/intensity, also mentions of hair-pulling, biting, throat fucking, anal, two cocks for Morax again (as always 👌)

--------

Childe is probably the best one here to end up at the mercy of here for once, for the sake of your poor ass at least.

Not that it isn't still awful and painful — he’s a sadist at heart and just adores making you squeal and cry. What at least makes it comparatively at least bearable is that he tends to use his hand — although that does make it more personable, more humiliating.

He tells you, though, exactly what he intends to do. You're being such a little brat today… come over here…

He doesn't even seem angry, but rather excited. He's all smiley and cooing in a way that feels so utterly humiliating and degrading.

Oh, but please do run. Please, please make it so much more fun for him, run away and try to hide. There's virtually nothing in the world that turns him on as much as either a game of chasing you or hunting you down wherever you're hiding. The fact that you're that scared of getting your ass beaten is kind of cute, actually. Are you that sensitive to pain, or is it more protecting your pride that gives you so much resistance? Not that he's complaining or anything.

He'll even give you a very wide opportunity to run, make sure you have plenty of avenues to do so. His heart rate begins to go up seeing the look of realization in your eyes when you spot an opening to run off, and he'll give you a minute or two of a head start. It doesn't take him long to find you nonetheless, hauling you up over his shoulders and carrying you back to your room with obvious excitement, like a predator dragging squealing, still-living prey back to its den for its inevitable fate.

That being said, doing that will make it worse for you — at that point you probably do deserve a belt at least, you know? Regardless of the instrument of choice though, he keeps you bent over his knee — he can feel your squirming more that way, and he can grind his hard-on into your stomach as you thrash around and squeal. Each strike still lands on bare skin, but rather than having your lower half naked, he likes to sometimes move the hold on your back and grasp at the waistband of your panties instead, jerking them up to wedge between your cheeks, effectively holding you in place and baring your skin at the same time.

He's so mean about it, taunts you that same voice you hate so much—

Aw, are you actually crying? Maybe I'll stop if you beg for something else…

There's no set number or standard of how much you'll be punished for any particular offense, which can be more torturous than anything. At least if you were given a number, you'd know how much more you had to endure. Instead, you just lurch and squeal each time his hand or the leather comes down... you kick your legs and thrash about, to no avail. In fact, you're pretty sure it just makes him hornier, you feel his cock twitch and his breathing grow more ragged the louder you cry out, and his hand on your back forces you down harder.

He’s actually totally shameless about getting off to it, too, so you can’t use that against him.

God, you're so cute when you cry like that... squeal louder for me...

The only real upside is that it's usually abruptly cut off at some point once he's too aroused by it to continue, and needs to just bury himself into your holes. You get slid off his lap onto the couch or bed, barely getting any time to recover — still sniffling and whimpering— before being contorted to whatever position he wants and rammed into without warning… thus for once, him being perpetually horny and having virtually no self-control actually becomes a positive. It still doesn't help, though, that the sex makes his hips smack against your sore ass with each thrust, but crying out about that only makes him go harder.

You know it could be much much worse — he makes sure to remind you that he could easily keep going until you completely break down, but he's so nice and you should be grateful for that — but you're still sore, and it leaves a pinkish-reddish tint under your natural flesh tone — something he likes to point out to you later, groping at your ass and laughing when you jolt at the sting. Your nose wrinkled with your expression of disgust as you jerk your head away from him, and you mutter under your breath.

Bastard...

And then, you squeal and lurch forward as one more harsh smack lands on your backside. You try to ignore the chuckling that follows as your eyes well up with embarrassed tears, and you bury your face beneath the covers of the bed.

-------

Diluc’s punishments are awful in terms of pain, but thankfully they're over fairly quickly because it's largely an act of momentary fury and irritation, and once he gets that anger out of his system, the punishment will be over, too.

He's still very intimidating about it, and it doesn't help that it's always a sort of spontaneous thing he decides on in the heat of the moment — thus you see the exact moment you know you've crossed a line, but also know (or at least, quickly learn) that there's nothing you can say or do at that point that will get you out of being punished. His eyes narrow and his voice lowers and he tells you to get over here in a voice that makes you feel like your heart just stopped, and your stomach feels as if it twists into a knot when you see the confirmation of your dread when he takes his belt off.

Running is not advisable — it's not like you'll succeed, and you'll just make him more mad. He's rough with how he handles you, dragging you by your clothes and hair over to bed, counter, or the back of a couch, forcing your head down.

How bad any one particular spanking is varies a lot depending on how mad you've succeeded in making him. He's not merciful at all, so he hits with force based on the level of his frustration. Thus, your attitude is important — you can technically commit a lesser offense, but if you keep backtalking and being bratty and fighting it, you'll likely get a worse punishment than you would for a worse offense for which you were apologetic and submitted to punishment easily.

What does change with the severity of your offense is that if what you didn't isn't so bad, you can keep your clothes on, but for particularly egregious transgressions, even in spite of the heat of the moment, unfortunately, he doesn't forget to pull your clothes up or down and off to make sure you're bared first.

He virtually always uses a belt, much to your dismay, and prefers to bend you over various surfaces since he can strike harder that way. It’s painful, you always end up in tears quickly, begging and pleading and spilling apologies for whatever you did, but he never has any mercy on you.

Much like you can’t get out of it to begin with, there’s also nothing you can do that will make it end any sooner than he feels like it. Over and over, grumbling with each strike about how you’re such a brat, how you can’t just behave, how it’s your own fault, until your flesh is reddened and burning badly enough that even when it’s over, all you can do is slump forward and cry.

If he went really hard on you, he might feel a little bad afterwards, getting you a wet cloth to soothe the burn… but he’ll still remind you that you wouldn’t be lying there all shivering and sobbing if you just learned to behave yourself properly.

For him, it’s more of an actual punishment first and foremost and not really an intentionally erotic thing, at first he’s too mad to think much about the eroticism of it… but seeing you lying there sniffling with your butt so heavily marked and welting, admittedly he does quickly get hard… and he’ll get incredibly flustered and embarrassed if you accuse him of getting off to it.

But be careful — push him too much on that matter, and such antagonism might be grounds for a round two on your already-stinging ass.

-------

Ayato’s punishments are particularly unpleasant, but the thing is that if you're in that situation, you deliberately chose it. Because he's gracious enough that you get a lot of warnings before reaching that point.

If you're being bratty, temperamental, rude, or whatever other behavior he doesn't like, you get a certain look first. The standard half-lidded eyes, unpleased expression, the universal ‘stop that right now’ glare. Maybe a passive aggressive comment if he can slide one into conversation.

If that fails — in other words, if you keep being a brat regardless, deliberately ignoring his warnings — you then get a verbal warning. He'll address you directly if it's just the two of you, but gods forbid you’re digging your own grave by misbehaving in front of others, he waits for a moment where everyone else's attention is on something else before pulling you close in a faux gesture of affection (with a grip harsh enough to ensure you get the message but not enough to alert anyone else in the room to his quiet fury), lowering his voice, whispering directly into your ear.

We’re going to have a talk about your behavior when this is over. Do you understand?

You know by now what a "talk" actually means, and hearing the words makes you stiffen and swallow. Granted, by the time it reaches the point that you've been that bad, you won't escape without at least a few swats, but if you persist, you'll just make it much worse. All you can do is nod your head and wait in dreadful anticipation.

As soon as the company you had leaves, you try to slowly back away, looking for an opening to run, but he has you grabbed by your clothes or hair and is dragging you off before you can even try. The total silence on his end as he drags you over to your room only serves to amplify your dread, and thereby your little whimpering protests.

The primary thing that will make it that much worse is what he uses to punish you, because from the day he brought you home, he anticipated a need for discipline at some point, and thus had a whipping cane custom-made just for you. One of those thin wooden canes designed for no other purpose than infliction of pain and punishment, which he leaves sitting out in your bedroom at all times, making sure it's always within sight as a subtle threat, a reminder of his power over you and that your behaviors have consequences.

He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t get heated, yet somehow that makes it so much worse. He’s perfectly calm as he holds you down on his lap, a hand wrapped into and grasping your clothes on your back to ensure you’re not going anywhere with each sharp pain on your bare skin. He’s very disciplinarian about it, ensuring to emphasize the reason and intention of the punishment itself—

Remember that you had every option of avoiding this. This is only the consequence you deserve. Do you realize that?

You nod and whimper and try to apologize, but it doesn’t make each swat any lighter. He’s rather harsh about the severity too, the degree of pain, duration, number of swats and outright humiliation often feel disproportionate to what is in your opinion a mild offense, although you know better than to voice that thought.

You beg, sure, you cry and whimper and say you'll take any other punishment, but it goes in one ear and out the other, your words have no effect, and while his voice has that characteristic gentleness to it, he's still cold and firm in his reply, if he even gives you one.

You're not getting out of this. Hold still.

He does take care of you afterwards, so lovingly and gently it makes you angry. He reminds you again that it wouldn't have to happen if you behaved, that you have no one but yourself to blame, all while kissing your crying face, holding you close and gently massaging the newly formed welts.

He also likes to make you gauge how many lashes you deserve beforehand, often making the total number a certain multiple of how many times you mouthed off or did something against your rules. And of course, whenever there's a fixed number, he makes you count.

Listening to your voice grow more and more shaky and begin to crack, your speech becoming slurred with sobs and oh, how precious is the sudden panic in your voice when you realize you've lost count. The way you tense and start begging and whimpering when he replies—

I suppose we'll have to start over...

-------

Morax’s punishments are always by far the worst.

That's largely because there's a maddening element of psychological torment involved. It's slow, drawn out, the dread and anticipation are almost worse than the punishment itself. He actually employs a variety of corporeal punishments, each of which make your stomach churn just to think about, but unfortunately, putting you over his knee and beating your ass until there's a deep red hue to your skin is a personal favorite of his.

What makes his style of discipline so unbearable is that you’ll be punished for literally anything. There is no possible offense, no rule to be broken, that won’t earn corporeal punishment of some kind, most usually on your poor ass. You get a very clear set of rules, rules you’re expected to know and obey from day one. Countless little rules, so many of them meticulous and pointless. Things you must do, things you must not do, and rigid standards for your attitudes and behaviors.

Each and every violation is its own offense — not to mention, things like lying when asked about what you did, objecting to punishments, even talking back or trying to defend yourself when accused count as individual offenses too. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’ve broken a rule until he tells you you’re going to be punished for it, and any protest or whining counts as another offense.

Really, you’re lucky if you can go a few days in a row fully able to sit without any stinging pain, and it’s not uncommon for you to earn back-to-back punishments one day after another. You know for a fact that your record of days in a row without ending up laying in bed, whimpering and crying and clutching your backside in pain is a single digit number.

Sometimes, if it’s severe enough, you’ll get put over his knee right then and there, but he’ll also tally up the small offenses and, at the end of the day, punish you cumulatively for every small offense you’ve made, because he can’t allow even the slightest offense to go unpunished.

It’s not limited to things you do in his presence either, because he has ways of finding out everything you do.

Every day that you can't accompany him, he has an established routine for when he returns. Firstly, of course, you're supposed to greet him when he comes in (any attempts to be petulant by giving him silent treatment or hiding away will result in further punishments), but then, as he sits you down, holds you close, he asks you the same question.

Have you done anything you should not have today?

It's a torturous question.

On one hand, you could have very well been very well-behaved, in which case you can answer honestly with at least some confidence (although even then, part of you hesitates thinking maybe you committed some offense unintentionally).

But when you haven't been well-behaved and you know it — that's what's torturous.

It's a gamble. He asks every single day, so him asking itself is not a dead giveaway that he knows what you did. If he doesn't know — well, you might be able to lie and get away with it. Inversely, how unfortunate would it be if you told him, and it turned out he didn't know, and then you had to suffer when you could have gotten away with it?

On the flip side, if he does know — well, you'll soon be squealing like a stuck pig regardless, but things are much, much worse if you try to lie. You would know — you've taken that gamble a few times now and lost.

He seems to have ways of finding out everything — you only lied when you were absolutely confident, thinking there was no way anyone saw the thing you did, only for your stomach to lurch when you feel the soft stroking against your thigh stop, and are met with a low voice—

…Is that so?

And the tone, the way he says it, you immediately know you've messed up.

Of course, you could hypothetically keep denying it, but entrenching yourself further in a lie is, by that point, the worst decision you could make — you would know, you tried that once and you couldn't sit down normally for over a week. The best thing to do now is to confess… you won’t get any mercy or a lighter punishment, but you’ll avoid the additional punishment you’d get for doing anything else.

But even then, he can’t even give you the decency of forcing your body to bend and getting it over with. It has to be drawn out, torturing you to the greatest degree possible — sometimes, he does this by delaying it, telling you he has something else to do first, leaving you to sit around and wait in anticipation for an hour or more. If an offense is bad enough, one session might not even be enough, and you're told that you'll get another one tomorrow, adding to your dread.

But most of the time, the torment comes from forcing your own participation. He keeps you firmly in his lap, reaching down to grope at the flesh where your butt meets your thighs.

What do you think you deserve to have happen to you?

Another test, a question for which you’ll only receive something worse in addition to whatever will happen already if answered incorrectly. There’s only one right answer—

…Y-you should... punish me...

On the bright side, he’s genuinely pleased once you start learning well enough to know what the right answer is.

You’re stood up, guided over to the drawers, hands firmly on your shoulders to ensure you don’t get any ideas about running. You hate that one drawer, it makes your stomach churn just to look at. He has a damn collection for you— leather straps, whipping canes, paddles with holes in them just to hurt that much more. He tells you to pick one.

That, too, is a test— you know which ones hurt more. You're supposed to gauge what you deserve based on the severity of your offense, and he'll be that much more displeased if you go too lightly on yourself, and will consequently be more forceful, which you do not want. Eventually, you manage to make your choice, biting your lip, pointing with a shaky hand, tensing as his hand runs motions that would be soothing in any other context up and down your thigh, pausing to grasp at the fleshy part of your backside.

Then you're led back— sometimes to face the wall or bend over a counter, but most often he prefers to keep you over his lap. Not that you'll be forced down either— not unless you make that necessary, which of course, you do not want. Unless you want it to be that much worse, you follow the commands— pull your robes up, the waistband of any underwear down, bare your skin (always, no matter how mild the offense), lay down on your stomach, put your hands behind your back so he can grasp your wrists.

And even then, even then you have to be tormented further.

Now, what did you do to deserve this?

You recall to the best of your ability, hoping you didn't forget anything, lest you be accused of trying to be deceitful in hopes of escaping consequences, which will add another tally to the list.

It’s painful. It always is. You've reached a point where your resolve to not cry and squeal is defeated pretty early. You used to try your best not to for the sake of your pride, but you know by now that it will go on long enough that your tears and crying out are inevitable.

He manages to somehow be so stoic and calm and yet somehow so, so cruel about it.

Does it hurt?

Your shoulders quiver with little sobs, you go tense as he gropes and kneads at the raw flesh.

Y-yes, it hurts, it hurts so bad, please no more, please—

You cut off with a high-pitched cry as the stinging pain strikes again. And again. And again. It's always so much, so unfair compared to the weight of whatever you did. That slight pinkish undertone isn't quite satisfying enough either, he never stops until there's a deep, deep red tone to your flesh.

If you've been especially bad, you may have to count… but he actually tends to prefer not giving you a set number. You're more fearful that way, uncertain of how much more you have to endure.

You're certain he gets off on the pain for one thing, the sound of your cries and the way you jolt and squirm, but the humiliation is worse than the pain itself, for you. He knows that, revels in it. He's told you before—

You're such a prideful little thing… that will certainly need to be fixed.

Repetitive subjection to something so inherently humiliating and vulnerable, and being made to break down, any semblance of toughness and dignity being torn away at his hands, is a way of slowly breaking down your pride. You know that, it makes you so angry, but you can't help but let that vulnerability be exposed every time, to act in such a way that ensures he knows how badly it humiliates you.

Your go limp with exhaustion when it finally stops.

What have you learned?

You can barely speak, voice hoarse from the strain of your cries and speech muffled by sniffles and sobs.

I'm sorry… I won't do it again…

And then, he has the audacity to be so, so sweet to you. Looking down at your tear-streaked face, smiling— no, smirking, a belittling, amused expression— leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Poor thing.

Kneading at the sore flesh in spite of how the touch makes you wince. As if it isn't his fault, as if he had any mercy on you the whole time you were begging for it to stop.

It only makes you angrier. More than once now, you've earned a second round for how you reacted to his undeserved kindness. So ungrateful.

It's never a solitary punishment either, always coupled with something else, always something equally humiliating and discomforting, if not painful. You know he gets off to it, because the second punishment is almost always a direct sex act of some kind.

You'll take his cocks down your throat, grabbing your skull and fucking your face without any restraint, forcing you to swallow every last drop of seed, even forcing your head down to lick up whatever you spill off the floor. Your saliva just provides the lube to force you to bed and fuck you until you can't even stand, and all the while his hips bounce off your poor ass, each movement stinging against the sensitive flesh. He'll bite your flesh, unnaturally sharp teeth even piercing you skin, leaving you covered in marks. If he's feeling really, really mean, you don't even get the semblance of pleasure of it ramming into your poor sore, raw pussy— you'll take both cocks into your tight little ass instead, a stretch that makes you squeal and thrash and cry. Your legs kick and you lurch forward, desperate to pull yourself off, but you're jerked back with a growl as he slams into you, completely bottoming out. Eventually, you give in as the stretching pain ebbs away and trying to take whatever pleasure you can from the faint stimulation to spots of pleasure through the walls of flesh. But the act is utterly humiliating nonetheless, your hole left twitching and gaping for hours as cum leaks out and onto your skin. You can't even sit for days, both your poor asshole and backside sore and tender.

Your embarrassment and resentment builds. You loathe him for it, feel so humiliated and angry at yourself and how deeply you dread the punishments that it makes you nauseous.

And thus, in one particular incident, fed up and filled with spite, you made the greatest mistake of your entire time trapped with him— you decided to run, seeing that for once you had an opening to do so.

A stupid choice, really. You don't get far. Not even a full ten steps.

You know immediately that you have severely, sincerely fucked up. The sheer harshness with which you're grabbed, the back of your clothes grasped and twisted with unprecedented force, the draconic growl to his voice that makes your blood run cold.

Oh, dearest, you have no idea how badly you've just stepped out of line.

His other hand latches onto your throat.

You're going to be sleeping on your stomach for quite some time, won't you?

The statement alone makes tears well in your eyes, any bitter pride quickly crushed. You shake your head profusely, start begging for forgiveness, but you know in your heart that it's far too late for that… it still doesn't stop you from whimpering and apologizing as you're dragged back down the hall, no doubt to one of the worst punishments you've endured yet.

#man this was unholy levels of degen even by my content's standards #from what little i know i feel like the two new guys would also fit this so maybe ill add them later

191 notes · View notes

venuscrashed · 3 months

Text

demon brothers x gn!ghosthunter!reader

i just started the game so please don’t come at me/ let me know if you guys want more of this au

warnings: based off phasmophobia, no pronouns used

Word count: about 600 in total

Okay, now imagine the demon brothers with a ghost hunter reader. Who also happens to hunt demons, like in phasmophobia. They wouldn’t know your job at first but once you tell them you can only imagine their reactions.

Lucifer: He would obviously know your job from the start. Although, he was still a bit hesitant to accept you. He was cautious around you, always keeping a close eye on you. Whenever you would grab something he would stiffen but it wasn’t obvious. Later on he would be fine, even joke about it. “MC, is there any chance that you can do your ghost hunting thing on my brothers.” “If you don’t calm down I’ll have MC start an exorcism.”

Mammon: Was literally like whaaat? Thinks it’s really cool, honestly. “Yeah! That's my human kicking ghost's butt.” Would somehow turn it into a money scheme. He would also cling onto you in haunted houses and such. “The Great Mammon ain’t scared. He’s protecting you because you’re not used to ghosts anymore.” Would totally tag along if you were to do some ghost haunting in Diavolo’s castle. “MC how do you use the glow stick?” “AHHHGHGHH it talked to me!” “Mammon it's a spirit box, it’s supposed to do that.”

Levi: If you stream it he would totally watch it. Would see you when you arrive and be like “OMD you’re that streamer that does ghost hunting!” Instantly becomes your number one fan. Would think you’re really brave considering he can’t talk to regular people. He hides and blushes whenever he sees you be brave…or see you in general. Plays phasmophobia with you, and is really good. He would be an expert at ghost chases and looping. One second into the house “It’s a Yurei. Let’s gag and go.” Becomes more of a professional then you.

Satan: When he first met you he felt some sort of nostalgia, like you two have crossed paths before. It isn’t until he sees your scar or necklace that his cult wears. It’s inevitable that you would come across satanic worshippers and be sacrificed, or be one. Asks you questions and even gives you tips. Gives you full permission to summon him if his cult members mess with you again. Would tag along on your ghost hunters and probably remember all of their traits. “It’s an Oni. The airball event tells me enough.”

Asmo: Again if you stream he would totally watch. Would totally brag about your guys' friendships. Would even post a pic of you two and caption it “Demon x Demon hunter: the best couple” if you two were dating. Would only tag along to act scared and hide behind you just so you can protect him and be brave. “Oh~ MC. It’s scary in here, the ghost keeps scaring me.” “Asmo you're literally a demon.”

Beel: Is like “oh.” He understands why you hunt ghosts but doesn’t really see the point. Would be like “I can protect you.” Would totally watch your streams while he eats, especially if they’re hours long. If he tags along he stays close to you so he can protect you. Would totally be the man in the van. He’s sitting there eating while watching the camera for dots. I feel like he would be good at motion sensors and para mic. Has good intuition to, “It’s the twins.” “Beel we haven't even been here for a minute.” “It reminds me of Belphie and me.”

Belphie: Would hate you more than he originally did. “Did Lucifer choose you to spite me?” Would complain about you for so long “But they’re dangerous.” Once he warms up to you he’ll joke about it. “Can you get rid of Lucifer with your demon experience.” IF he tagged along he would sleep in the van next to Beel. Maybe I would bring you the supplies but nothing past that. Don’t tell him you know but he plays your stream in the background to sleep. If he stays awake he is fully immersed into it and even laughs when you get scared.

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x male reader #Demon brothers x reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x reader #x ftm reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x female y/n #x female reader #venuscrashed

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babydollmarauders · 6 months

Text

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 9)

au masterlist

notes: written while extremely tired

y/ndevils00

liked by tofff73, lhughes_06, and 245,187 others

y/ndevils00 THESE BITCHES ACTUALLY WON!

i mean— Devils won 5-4 tonight against those island guys!

we got on the board by a goal made by my favorite ginger tea! and even more than he likes scoring, doug-doug likes to lay on the ice and gossip like a schoolgirl 🫶

uncle toffee got his very first goal as a devil tonight and i’m SO PROUD OF HIM! despite the fact that he’s actively in kahoots to steal my man (see: slide 9) (i’ve got my eye on you, toffoli 👁️👁️)

bestie number 2 pushed a man to defend babygirl, tonight— my heart is so filled with love ❤️

MY SMUSH GOT HIS FIRST GOAL OF THE SEASON!! LOOK AT HIM GO! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, I WANNA SMUSH HIS CHEEKS AND KISS HIS FOREHEAD! he, however, did not appreciate my words of encouragement (see: slide 6). little spit-fire, you! don’t ever do that again 🫶

not pictured: timothy got his shit rocked… yet ended up with a roughing penalty?? i’m actively suing the refs FOR him. @tmeier96 i hope you appreciate me

AND FINALLY, THE MOMENT YOU ALL (me) HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR: MY MAN, MY BABYGIRL, MY LOVE, MY CAT-DAD, MY BEAUTIFUL MEME-SHARING, HOODIE-HOARDING, BLUSH-INDUCING BOYFRIEND, SCORED TWO (2) GOALS TONIGHT! INCLUDING THE OVERTIME, GAME-WINNING GOAL! THAT’S MY PERSONAL HAND HOLDER RIGHT THERE!

p.s. my heart is filled with hate, and for once, barzy the bald is not enemy #1. Ryan Pulock, however? count your days and say your hail mary’s bitch, cause you hurt my slut

tagged dougieham, tofff73, john.marino97, lhughes_06, and jackhughes

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lhughes_06 you already DID smush my cheeks and kiss my forehead…. in front of the entire team

y/ndevils00 AND I’LL DO IT AGAIN!! C’MERE!

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes GET YOUR GIRLFRIEND, SHE’S TRYING TO GET TO ME ON THE BUS

lhughes_06 was that 6th picture taken on a toaster?

y/ndevils00 listen, you brat, the islanders fans don’t like me because i threaten their bald man— i was working with where i was because they wouldn’t let me through, which meant taking an extremely zoomed in picture from across the rink

lhughes_06 maybe if you, idk, stopped threatening their players?!

y/ndevils00 i can’t do that.

user10 y/n and luke are so siblings already 😭

user72 dougie is so me

john.marino97 your heart can’t be filled with love and hate at the same time

y/ndevils00 don’t tell my heart what it can and cannot do?? stop policing my body, asshole

john.marino97 i wasn’t policing your body?! do what you want with your body!

y/ndevils00 thank you, i will!

john.marino97 so what are you gonna do with your body?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes

john.marino97 i expected too much from you

y/ndevils00 what DID you expect?

john.marino97 “spread love”

y/ndevils00 well i mean, i AM spreading love iykwim

john.marino97 delete your social medias

y/ndevils00 i can’t, it’s my job 🤷‍♀️

barzal97 you know i’m not BALD right? it’s just a buzzcut

y/ndevils00 YOU’RE BALD! YOU’RE BALD AND YOU’RE TORTURING PEOPLE WHO HAVE HAIR

barzal97 okay, i tried

y/ndevils00 👨🏻‍🦲 <- you

barzal97 @/jackhughes your girl is a little messed up, but i think i like her

jackhughes step off, barzal! that’s MY messed up feral raccoon

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me 🥹

user94 toffoli has kissed jack before nico has kissed jack… nico is fuming

user08 i’m gonna frame the 5th picture and put it on my wall oh my god

jackhughes why the 7th picture?

y/ndevils00 you look like how i imagine a toddler playing soccer… like you just stopped in the middle of the game to chase a butterfly

jackhughes i-

jackhughes i got something off of my visor, BEFORE A FACEOFF

y/ndevils00 DON’T YELL AT ME! I’M SENSITIVE!

jackhughes i’m sorry, i love you to pluto

y/ndevils00 because….

jackhughes because pluto IS a planet

tofff73 i promise, i’m not trying to take your man

y/ndevils00 well why not?! he’s a catch!

tofff73 i’m a bit confused here

dawson1417 she’s always confusing. you learn to live with it

dougieham i DO like laying on the ice!

y/ndevils00 i can’t blame you! that’s what i do too!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 that’s cause you have no other choice. you can’t skate

tmeier96 i appreciate you, i love you, please do not sue the refs

y/ndevils00 you just said two nice things and then proved them untrue

dawson1417 i’ll do better next game, i promise! i’ll earn a feature!

y/ndevils00 you did great, bestie! don’t listen to ruff-ruff, you deserve top-line, babycakes!

dawson1417 no “do better”?

y/ndevils00 never “do better” for you!

dawson1417 but like 3 weeks ago…

y/ndevils00 i have no recollection— short term memory loss— hi, my names dory!

dawson1417 you’re a special little nutcase

y/ndevils00 thank you 🥰

nicohischier i have a name?

y/ndevils00 yes!

nicohischier so you KNOW i have a name…

y/ndevils00 indeed!

nicohischier so why don’t you USE IT?!

y/ndevils00 okay i think YOU don’t know your name

nicohischier my name isn’t slut

y/ndevils00 that is your given name and you will like it!

nicohischier i don’t wanna like it!

y/ndevils00 tough luck, slut

#media management au!#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

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readychilledwine · 6 months

Note

Can I please request 5 for Cassian?

Cassian x Vanserra Reader drabble

Prompt #5 from the super amazing romance prompt list from @urfriendlywriter

Prompt 5 - "You lied to me. Was I just a pawn in your game? The easiest one you can sacrifice?"

"If you love him, you'll walk away to protect him," Eris said plainly. "Father would kill him just for being Illyrian. Imagine what he'd do to him for being your mate and having touched you."

Tears were falling freely as you nodded from your spot on the couch in his room. "I could leave."

Eris shook his head. "You and I both know you're his favorite little chess piece. Father will chase you and hunt you down slaughtering anyone protecting you until you are dragged back home kicking and screaming."

You didn't know how to end this without Cassian fighting. So, you did something that would destroy every ounce of trust between you two.

You sighed as you waited, pretending to copy enrollment numbers, names, troop sizes from the Night Court. Cassian was coming tonight. You would leave them out "hidden" from his view, let him find them, and then stand there taking every ounce of anger, betrayal, and abuse that came your way.

For his protection.

You reminded yourself why you were doing this. It was for him.

You set up the evidence. Wiping the last of the lingering tears from your cheeks before sighing.

To save him.

To save him from the same fate Jesminda suffered.

The faint sound of wings breaking air made you straighten your dress, fix your hair, and put on the mask you needed to hide the inner turmoil your soul was going through.

Cassian opened the door, a smile lighting the room, as he immediately came to you, cupping your face in two hands and kissing you deeply. "Missed you, princess."

"Missed you more," you answered honestly. "Whiskey?"

He nodded. "Please."

You went into another room, pretending to grab the glass and the bottle, take a little longer than needed. "Y/n, come here," and the pin dropped.

You walked out, bottle in hand. "Is something wrong?"

Cassian held up the papers, his eyes full of confusion and setting in rage. "What the fuck is this?"

You began the act. "Reports you left here."

"Reports you were copying for what purpose, Vanserra?"

The first knife in your chest. He'd never referred to you by that name, knowing how much you hated your father.

"I'm not copying them," you half lied smoothly. In truth, you planned on burning them.

Cassian scoffed. Throwing your handwritten papers into the fire of the hearth. "Don't fucking lie to me when the evidence was right there. Why?"

"You have your job, I have mine," another knife in your chest.

"Is that what I am to you?!" Cassian stormed over to you, slamming his hands on the table. "You think I'm a fucking job?"

You're everything to me, your mind said. You hid the screaming of your aching soul and heart behind a mask of indifference. "Say something," he demanded. "Say. Something."

You shook your head. "There's no point."

"Everyone is pawn in Autumn, Cassian. The sooner you learn where you sit on the chess board, the easier life will be." Your voice was distant.

"You told me you loved me. That you wanted to marry me, and now you've done this." His face dropped completely as he studied you, "You lied to me. Was I just a pawn in your game? The easiest one you can sacrifice?" He saw the brief flash of heartache in your eyes. A small moment of pain before you hid behind a mask.

Realization hit him at your mistake. "You're pushing me away," Cassian realized slowly. "Who found out, princess. Tell me who found out, and I will have Rhys wipe them."

"Pretty sure that would be against the bargain the two of them swore to each other." Cassian's face fell. "I'm a pawn in these games too, Cassian. Leave while you can."

He shook his head, knowing this would go nowhere right now, knowing when you pull the string and back away. He grabbed the reports. "Just tell me if anyone else saw them."

"No one else did," you said slowly. "Just go, Cassian. Make this easier for both of us."

He paused at the doorway. "I won't stop fighting for you," he stated firmly. "I'll never stop fighting for you."

"Then we both become Beron's pawns," you were looking into the fire, arms crossed over your chest.

"All tyrants lose their place, princess, and when he loses his. I'm coming back for you."

#acotar #acotar x reader #cassian x reader #cassian of Illyria #prompt list

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intelligentbees · 7 months

Text

“I still hate you,” Tony mutters, voice shaky and entirely unconvinced while his hand expertly unbuckles the clasps of the uniform he designed so carefully, months and months and months ago.

“I know,” Steve responds gruffly. His beard scratches Tony’s jaw as those perfect teeth run down the thin skin of his neck, trace his jugular. His hands are rough iron clamps against each side of Tony’s beautifully tailored Versace two-piece. The fabric will be ruined beyond repair in less than ten minutes - Tony could bet his fortune on it.

They’ve played this stupid game before. Every time, Tony swears it’ll be the last.

Steve hitches him up onto the kitchen counter of the ridiculous New Jersey safehouse, and Tony goes willingly, yanking Steve into the open spread of his legs. This is the closest Steve’s gotten to New York since he first read those damned accords. The closest he can get to home is some 1965-styled kitchenette with pictures of old-timey adverts lining the walls and a microwave that’d probably irradiate you if you went near it.

It’s wrong- all of it. But there’s no changing it. Steve made his choice long ago, and Tony hates him for it. He should remember that. He should tell Steve that again.

“Fuck, God, Steve,” is what comes out instead, breathed against the other man’s mouth. Tony’s whole body is hot, taught, desperate, and he tugs the top half of Steve’s uniform off his torso. Steve spray painted over the colours- the whole thing is dark now, void of any trace of what it used to be. Tony hates that too.

“Tony,” Steve says, like there’s more to it- a name at the beginning of a sentence which never comes out. He clasps his teeth over Tony’s bottom lip, pushes his hands under Tony’s rapidly-wrinkling shirt and brushes his thumbs over each nipple, rubbing quick circles. The movement pulls another noise from Tony’s throat.

Fuck- the man knows him.

Steve steadies himself for a moment to catch his breath, nose brushing against Tony’s. Tony tries not to look into his eyes, whenever they do this. He’s never been good at seeing Steve’s soul - the one he never tries to hide, to mask. He’s not like Tony, you see. Everything he does, he does earnestly and from the heart.

The decision he made to leave with Bucky - to keep the culprit of Tony’s parents’ deaths a secret from him - they’d both come from that same heart. Hence, no eye contact. Tony has no desire to see how truly insignificant the space he takes up in Steve’s soul was.

Except now.

He does it without meaning to- just catching sight of those infuriating baby blues as he leans in for another messy kiss. Error number 1.

Error number 2 is not shutting his damn eyes and grabbing Steve’s dick like he normally does.

And error number 3 is the worst. Error number 3 is when he catches sight of Steve’s suddenly agonised expression, doesn’t ignore it, and instead asks “what?” Thus inviting conversation. They don’t come here for that. They come here to fuck eachother’s brains out for a night and then keep playing their cat-and-mouse chase across the globe as if anyone in a position of authority actually fucking believes it.

Steve goes perfectly still for a moment. Then he swallows. “This… this really makes you miserable, doesn’t it.”

He doesn’t frame it like a question.

Tony looks up at him, breathing hard. “Oh, I’m sorry I’m not looking ecstatic while getting groped by my ex boyfriend in a place that’s decked out like a prop house in a nuclear testing site. Would you prefer for me to giggle jovially while you fuck me amongst the dust and cobwebs?”

They’d used to have sex that was so full of love. This is how Tony always talks to Steve, now.

Steve shakes his head, a minute, grieving little thing. Tony feels the man’s breath skating across his face- feels the warmth of his bare chest, his shoulders, pressing against Tony.

“I thought…” he begins, then trails off for a moment as Tony skirts his hands down his chest, unlatches his belt. “I thought this made you happy. At least a little bit, even if you didn’t admit it. But it doesn’t. ”

Of course it doesn’t. But it’s all I have left of you.

“You think I’m coming here to find happiness? Jesus Steve. I’m coming here for tension relief,” Tony says, because he just can’t be truthful- he did his best when they were together, he really did, and it all failed anyway. Besides: Steve was never as truthful as Tony had always so fervently believed him to be either. “How about we both just stop talking and get down to that part.”

He gets his hands all the way to Steve’s boxers before Steve stops him- a gentle yet utterly unmoving grip. When Tony looks up at him again, Steve shakes his head. He’s grey in the face- if Tony didn’t know better now, he’d even say heartbroken.

“Tony, I…” Steve’s struggling for the words and he looks so beautiful, so so beautiful, just the same as the very first time Tony laid eyes on his photograph in the SHIELD folder he’d hacked his way into. “I didn’t realise you felt that way. Or maybe I did, but just didn’t want to acknowledge it because I was selfish.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I can’t do this with you. To you.” Steve steps away jerkily, half his body lagging while the other half pulls, as if warring with his own system. His pale skin is patchy, covered in faint marks where Tony has grabbed him. “I thought we were both doing this for enjoyment, but you’re not, and so I can’t. It’s cruel.”

Tony realises what Steve is implying here. His heart - what’s left of the poor thing anyway - convulses in panic, and he stumbles off the counter. “I’m not a fucking dog,” he snaps, “I make my own choices.”

“You don’t even look at me,” Steve’s voice breaks then. “I wished more than anything that you’d look at me. But I just saw it, then, when you did.”

“Saw what?”

They’re facing off against one another now - it’s like they can’t stop themselves. They have to be on either side of the argument, they can never just agree, no matter how hard they both want to. Tony hates and hates and hates.

“Your eyes don’t lie to me, Tony.” Steve’s voice is soft, and he says it like that alone is enough. “Your mouth does. And you don’t want this.”

“See, do you see what you’re doing here, again?” Tony steps forward, smashes his finger against the place where the star used to sit proudly on Steve’s chest. “You’re making an executive decision about how I feel, as to what I need, when you don’t have that right. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me!”

“But you never do what’s best for you!” Steve’s hands flail helplessly. “You do what’s best for everyone else, or what you think you deserve, and you never think about how it’s going to hurt—“

“I DESERVED TO KNOW MY PARENTS WERE MURDERED, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!”

Tony was supposed to be making his way to an orgasm right about now - instead he suddenly feels so angry he can hardly breathe. Fucking typical. He just had to go and open his mouth, didn’t he?

He glares at the man who tore his heart out over a year ago. Steve looks back, his expression shattered. Tony feels angrier still when he realises that he’s never going to be able to see this person in front of him and not love him. He’s trying so hard, right now, and he can’t. Even after all this. He can’t find it in him.

“Just fuck me,” Tony says, and it comes out more exhausted than demanding.

Steve shakes his head. “I can’t.”

Right. Steve’s made up his mind about what’s best for tony. Again. Was it ever going to go any other way?

Sometimes, the tiredness goes so deep that Tony starts to feel it in his bones. His therapist says it’s psychosomatic- that bones don’t actually creak and groan like wooden doors in abandoned houses. Tony begs to differ.

“If we stop now, this is the last time you’ll ever see me,” he says, hoping, even now, that maybe something will change. That maybe for once, Steve will just put him first.

It’s a pipe dream. Tony comes to that realisation as soon as Steve shakes his head. Stupid.

“Maybe that’s for the best.” Steve’s voice is hoarse. Like each word is painful. Tony wishes that were true - in reality, he doesn’t doubt Steve is just wary of the fight his words will bring - the argument that’ll erupt out of Tony’s mouth in response.

But Tony’s done fighting. It’s a losing battle. Always has been.

He looks at Steve. Nods.

He walks out of the door without another word.

#stevetony #Steve Rogers #tony stark #i hate civil war passionately and yet I am obsessed with writing about their fucked up little dynamic #yesssss boy. hate eachother!!! love eachother!!! blur those goddamn lines!!!#die in one another’s arms and then finally see everything you should’ve done differently with the clarity that only comes when you know #the opportunity to fix it is gone for good!!!!!!!!!!!#anyways

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faux-ecrivain · 4 months

Note

What kinda yan would utterly adore a werewolf reader

(Good question and Thank you for the request/ask Anon number 7)

(Twentieth Official Post)

————————————————————When the sun sets and the full moon rises your body begins to experience changes, changes that cause your Yandere to experience a potentially interesting reaction..

———————————————————————-

Yan Crossdresser; would have mixed feelings, because he loves brushing your fur when you turn, but you make such a mess, you’re always shedding hair and sometimes you destroy furniture. Which really irritates him, because he may be well-off but his money isn’t endless. Usually when you starts misbehaving (ie destroying furniture, waking up the neighbors, digging up yards and etc) he punishes you with the dog house. That’s right, he’ll put you in a large doghouse and keep you in there until you’ve learned your lesson. So, usually when you turn he has a leash and collar close by (at all times).

———————————————————————-

Yan Neko; absolutely hates it when you turn, mostly because you’re a large dog and you bark at him whenever you turn. But, also because you chase him around and start fights with him. He also hates dogs, like any dogs. Usually when you turn he starts hissing at you and growling, he’ll even snarl at you and if you don’t get away from him (and stay far away) then the claws will come out, and he’ll attack you. Which happens very time you turn and usually ends up with the two of you in a whole lot of pain..

——————————————————————-

Yan Idol; before he’s abducted you;wouldn’t have any strong feelings toward this revelation, but he will try to take care of you and prevent your secret from getting out| After he’s abducted you; he would hold it over your head and insist that by keeping you imprisoned in his home, he’s keeping you and everyone else safe. And when you’ve turned he usually has you chained up and muzzled, this is because whenever you transform you have a habit of trying to attack him, and since he has no desire to be mauled, he’ll try to stay as far as possible. Of course, he’ll still take care of you, but he’s not going near you (no matter how much he wants to cuddle you large furry body!) Does he adore it? Yes, he does, but he hates punishing you.

———————————————————————

Yan Baby-sitter; He’s be in even more awe of you. Not only do you have some sort of supernatural ability to save him from demons, but you’re an actual supernatural being! He’d pamper you, if you’re hungry when you’ve transform he’ll hunt you the best meals (which you gleefully devour)! If you’re tired then he’ll fluff your pillows and cover you in the largest, comfiest blanket he can find (he’ll swaddle you in a blanket and wrap it around you so tight, that you won’t be able to slash at him). If you’re in a playful mood, he’ll play whatever game you want (even chase, which usually means he gets chased by you because he keeps hugging you, but eh to him it’s the same thing)! So, I would say that Yan Baby-sitter would be the most likely to adore you!

———————————————————————

Yan Cheater; He’ll use it to bribe you, although it doesn’t work very well (because in his world werewolves aren’t real), but it won’t stop him. Plus, when you do transform he goes out of his way to incapacitate you (usually with a form of food or pets!) and take care of you. He tries to show you that he can take care of you and that you should get back with him, because he really does love you (no he doesn’t). He tries his best to be kind to you, but your disobedience and animalistic behavior does irritate him and often causes him to punish you (typically by feeding you flavorless dog food, locking you up in a dog cage and by taking away your toys.). Does he adore your werewolfness? He thinks it’s cute, but views it as a bit of a nuisance (this is because you like to try and bite him when he comes near you).

—————————————————————

Yan Reader; His favorite author is a werewolf? And he’s the only that knows? Wow! That must mean you trust him, right?! He finds your werewolf form super cute! How does he know about it? Well, he installed cameras in your house some time ago, so he can see everything that happens in your home. Anyways, he desperately wishes to be beside you and to support you throughout your temporary change, but he doesn’t want to scare you, so he sends gifts that he hopes will help you out during your transformation. Does he adore it? Yes, he does.

———————————————————————-

Yan Roommate; thinks that your werewolf instincts might explain your overprotective behavior and since He wants to show you his gratitude, he takes care of you during you time as a werewolf. He brushes your fur, feeds you fulfilling meals and makes sure that no one outside your apartment takes notice of your strange behavior or the howls you release when you’re hungry. Does he adore it? Somewhat, he thinks your fur is soft and he loves brushing through it (it’s calming to him). He wonders if your kids know..

———————————————————————

Yan Neighbor; Well, when he had you he found your werewolfen tendencies to be a nuisance as you’re a very destructive dog. He contemplates locking you away for the duration of your transformation, but knows that doing so would be counterproductive. Which causes him to tolerate your change and take care of you during it. Does he adore it? No, not really, he isn’t a big fan of dogs and only takes care of you for your approval.

———————————————————————

Yan Emperor; He thinks it’s adorable and he holds it over your add, he knows that the nobles would further disapprove of your affliction and he knows you’ll do anything to keep it a secret. So, whenever you’re on the verge of transforming he’ll invite you over and will watch as you struggle to prevent your transformation. Of course, since he doesn’t want anyone to know about your curse, he’ll lend you a room to stay in and will make an excuse for whatever noble dares to inquire about you. Then when you do transform he’ll go to your room (after you’ve calmed down that is) and begin to drown you in affection. He’ll make you very uncomfortable, because even in your wolf form he’s always touching you (usually he’s petting your ears, rubbing your belly or brushing your fur). Not to mention, your pretty sure he has a strange attachment to your wolf form (mostly because he views it as a sign of strength and it means you’ll be able to defend him and any children you might have. Even though he’s perfectly capable of doing that). Does he adore it? Absolutely, he likes big animals and has many paintings with you sitting by his side in your wolf form. He even gifted you a diamond studded leash (one that’s your favorite color of course) and a matching leash (yes, he walks you around the grounds with that leash and if anyone asks, he says it’s his pet wolf).

———————————————————————-

Yan Duke (a character not yet written); He adores most animals and already admires you because you’re a General, and have won many wars. But, to learn that you’ve been undergoing such an affliction whilst maintaining your pride ,and ignoring all the ignorant remarks from other nobles, well he thinks you’re an amazing person. His admiration for you is upped by ten and he enjoys running his hands through fur. One of his favorite pastimes would be brushing your fur, he’s gentle, of course, and often spoils you with snout kisses. He has a whole room dedicated for you to use when you transform, it’s a cushy room with all the necessities your little doggy heart could ever want. Does he adore it? Yep, he loves it and often has you sleep on his bed when you transform.

———————————————————————-

1950s Househusband (yes, it he is a yan); He was surprised, his cute next door neighbor is a werewolf? He didn’t expect that, but he doesn’t mind. He’a actually quite happy to learn such a secret about you, he’s even more gleeful to learn that your trust him enough with this information. When you do transform, he goes out of his way to take care of you. He’ll pat your head, rub your belly, brush your fur and fed you gourmet meals. Although, he does get a bit upset when you jump on the furniture and shed your fur. He even scolds you, although he doesn’t mean anything when he says it. Does he adore it? Not initially, he was a bit turned off by it (he’s not a big fan of furry animals that shed), but he grew to appreciate that quirky trait or yours. Now he has no qualms about coming over and helping you through the whole process, although he has to work extra hard to keep his spouse from finding out about it.

———————————————————————

Yan fickle ex-boyfriend; He wants nothing to do with you, sure he says he loves you, but he won’t be there if you need him during the transformation. However, if you do transform in front of him and you won’t let him leave (for whatever reason, maybe you’re extra possessive in wolf form or maybe you’re scared he’ll reveal your secret), and he has no choice but to take care of you, then he’ll do it. Reluctantly he’ll take care of you, but only because there’s a chance you can bite his hand off and he doesn’t want that. However, when you’re back to normal, he’ll go back to trying to get revenge on you. (He won’t use your wolf form against you, because no one’s going to believe him.) Foes he adore it? Not really, he doesn’t care for you and only bothers you because he has control issues.

———————————————————————

Yan Darling; He thinks it’s a cute bonus, he likes to braid your fur and put you in cute dog clothes. When you transform he won’t let anything make you uncomfortable and will only give you the best. After all, you’re his savior and he wants you to know how much he appreciates everything you do. He’ll have you sleep in his bed and he’ll take you on walks. Of course, he pouts when you turn back to normal, mostly because he doesn’t get to dote on you anymore (human you doesn’t like any extra attention). Does he adore it? Absolutely, he loves it and if he had his way, he’d keep you like that for a longer amount of time!

———————————————————————-

As for a Yan made specifically for a werewolf reader, well it would have to be a Yan that’s into a werewolf reader. It’d have to be a Yan that’s into the supernatural and would absolutely utterly adore having a werewolf lover. Especially if you spent all your transformation with him and every other wolf related moment with him. A Yan that’s into the supernatural would probably go out of their way to please a werewolf reader. The Yan would probably gift you collars, dog toys, Gourmet food and everything a little (large) wolf dog would enjoy!

———————————————————————-

Bonus; What the Yans would call werewolf reader;

Yan Crossdresser; would call you my adorable furry little/giant baby and give you ear scratches

Yan Neko; would snarl and call you a filthy disgusting pathetic little mutt then start a fight with you

Yan Idol; would call you my cute little wolf, but wouldn’t go near you

Yan Baby-sitter; My wonderful/adorable furbaby and would attempt to hug you only for you to growl at him

Yan Cheater; calls you a bad dog when you misbehave and calls you a good dog when you behave

Yan Reader; would never be able to call you anything, but if he could then he’d call you my cute fuzzy friend

Yan Roommate; would call you my big fuzzy baby (even though you aren’t one)

Yan Neighbor; would call you a nuisance dog and lament about the fur your shedding

Yan Emperor; would call you my cute little mutt and my adorable little angel, my strong little furbaby and would just generally call you a good wolf

Yan Duke; would probably call you a good doggo, would also call you my favorite little buddy and my cute cuddly little mutt

1950s Househusband; would also call you a good dog when you behave and a bad dog when you misbehave, but would also call you the cutest wolf in existence

Yan fickle ex-boyfriend; would simply call you a mutt and get mad at you because you tore up his favorite pillow

Yan Darling; would call you his biggest baby and would call you a furbaby, if he’s mad he’ll call you a bad wolf and lecture you about being on your best behavior

Yan Fan of the Supernatural; would call you the cutest wolf ever and would try to domesticate you every time they saw you

———————————————————————

(Yes, the Yans are intent on domesticating you and yes they do have a dog bowl with your name on it.)

(I hope this fit your request and I apologize if it wasn’t very well written.)

(Hope you enjoyed this, it took me like 3-4 hours to write and I’m kind of proud of it.)

(Anthony wasn’t here and Samuel wasn’t here because they aren’t technically yanderes.)

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roseglazedlens · 8 months

Note

Hi Rose 🤍 My baby fever is off the charts rn!!! So can I get a hc of any of the RE characters as a baby/toddler in a daycare pls?

Ps: Ik I said any but Chris fs was a FAT baby and Leon was a mama’s boy (thinking about that one audio rn and im sobbing 🥹)

⦑ 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 ⦒

characters: leon s. kennedy, ashley graham, ethan winters, ada wong, chris redfield, claire redfield, carlos oliveira a/n: thank you maya for requesting bby!! my queen!!! also look at me getting too into this, i love these characters so so much! check out re character's reaction & their s/o's dog ! « masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

LEON S. KENNEDY

You are right! He is a mama's boy!!

On his first few weeks of daycare, Leon would cry the longest every time he's been dropped off.

Has a hard time adjusting to daycare, but gets used to it after making a few friends (notably chris & luis)!

He is always telling his friends and teachers in daycare about how his mama did this... mama did that... Leon is super proud of her.

Also Leon's the kind of kid who plays with cars, crashes them together and starts clapping (Not much different from the present)

ASHLEY GRAHAM

Teacher's pet just because she's always respectful, and sharing toys with her classmates.

Oftentimes, kids take advantage of that and take her toys.

Because of that, I think she's often neglected by her teachers since the other troublemaker kids need more attention, so to speak.

She would be friends with Claire as Claire would not hesitate to snitch on other kid's bad behaviour to the teacher.

Ashley loves little Sylvanian Families and play-doh - I see this developing into a slime making hobby as an adult!

ETHAN WINTERS

I'm getting the quiet, nerdy kid vibe for Ethan.

Toddler Ethan loves to collect trading cards, he doesn't necessarily know how to play the game, he just likes the glossy look of them.

I feel like he'll have trouble making friends in class because they don't understand what the cards mean to him.

Poor kid just wants someone to talk about Pokemon with.

Gets very excited about dinosaurs and will play the game "Who can name the most dinosaurs?" knowing he'll always win.

ADA WONG

Don't mess with Ada, or she'll have you regret it.

Even as a toddler, she would always get her way. Always be the first on swings.

Ada, even as a kid, enjoys her solitude and hates for that to be broken. She enjoys playing LEGO uninterrupted.

I can see her hating loud kids like Chris (And that's totally not because Chris trampled her LEGO town one time and she'd held that grudge for life)

Younger Ada teaches the other kids bad words, but somehow she is never caught, and never gotten in trouble.

CHRIS REDFIELD

Fat baby (he's just built this way)

'Accidentally' steals Claire's NERF guns, and feigns ignorance when he's confronted.

Big troublemaker at daycare. Teachers are always chasing him down but toddler Chris runs really fast.

100% Captain America enthusiast. He admires the act of serving his country, and that lead him to choose a career in military.

NERFs guns for life - I see him messing around and shooting the dart at other kids (especially Claire, usually to get back at her for snitching on him to mum)

CLAIRE REDFIELD

Younger Claire, who also inherited the Redfield attitude, takes no shit from anyone.

If Chris shoves her, Claire would shove back. And that may have resulted in a lot of sibling fights.

Strong believer of justice - Will pick fights with anyone, even big kids and adults, if she sees injustice.

Brutally honest kid - when someone asks for a compliment, she would say "That shirt makes you look fat" without batting an eye.

Alike Chris, she loves NERF guns (they often like the same guns, so it almost always turns into a brawl at the toy section)

CARLOS OLIVEIRA

Carlos, is the number one reason of all teacher's migraines in his daycare.

He is the class clown, so anything he says gets a reaction from the other kids in class (often disrupting them)

So the moment Carlos speaks (he is still focusing on whatever he's doing), the class erupts in laughter.

Toddler Carlos is the kid who mashes the music button on a toy repeatedly. A cheeky smile on his face, very entertained by it.

Also I see toddler Carlos on the trampoline a lot, often trying to jump as high as he can. Even though he is most definitely too young to be on the trampoline.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @valsthea @sporeghost @httpsuguru @emilzke @daydreamrot @navstuffs @custard0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

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nycbaby21 · 8 months

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Hottest guy in the bar

prompt: Trevor thinks you are looking at him, but you are really looking at Cole

word count:1,250

“Okay your turn Y/n,” Harper says swirling her sparkly drink around with the tiny umbrella it came with. “Guys you know I hate this game,” I say with a huge sigh. “C’mon, you have to. Rules are rules,” Melody responds giving me a look. Two years ago one night when we went out, we created a game. You give each other a category and they have to pick someone in the room who you would choose for said category. It was a stupid game but what can you expect when three drunk girls try to make a girl’s night more “exciting.”

Rolling my eyes, I do a quick glance around and my eyes stop on a table of four guys who look around our age. “Okay if I have to pick, I’d say him with the grey shirt,” I tilt my head in the general direction of them. “Okay, solid choice. I would have gone for the long-haired one but it wasn’t my question,” Harper laughs looking over at them. “Is it just me or are all of them like really hot,” Melody asks just plain out staring their way. “Stop it before they notice us looking,” I slap her arm, which does nothing. “May be too late for that hunny,” Harper smiles and points over to the table we had been gawking at. All four of them looked our way, some with smug looks.

The trio of us look at each other and start laughing. I can still feel their eyes every once in a while, I blush at the sudden attention. “Okay, it’s someone else’s turn,” I say downing the rest of my drink. “So Harp, who would make the best sugar daddy,” Mel says wiggling her eyebrows. Our table is once again filled with laughter, which gains attention from more than just the table of guys. “Definitely polo shirt at the bar,” she says and we all turn to look his way. “I cannot with you two tonight. I need another drink,” I laugh heading to the bar. “Don’t lie Y/n, we know you are really going up there for him,” they joke and I flipped them out while walking away.

As I am ordering my drink I feel a presence behind me. I scoot over to make room for them thinking they are just ordering a drink like me. “Why hello there,” I hear a deep voice say and I turn and see the longer-haired guy Harper was looking at earlier. “Hi,” I laugh and peek behind him seeing his friends all looking our way. “I’m Trevor. And who might you be,” his voice is filled with flirtation. “Oh uhm I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you, Trevor,” I say reaching around him to grab my drink.

“So I’ll just cut to the chase. I saw you guys checking us out. Was wondering if I could get your number,” he asks with a wink. I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at him, which he took in a very good way. He stepped a little closer to me and smiled. “I’m so sorry. We weren’t checking you out. Well kinda but not in the way you think,” I say trying to be as nice as possible. After explaining the game he laughed too and I felt so relieved.

“Well I can’t say I’m not offended, but I think I’ll live,” he jokes putting his hand on his chest with a pout. “Oh, I am so sure that you will,” I laugh heading back to the table after telling him bye.”Dude sit the hell down and spill,” Harper says pulling me down. “He saw us pointing and giggling at them and wanted to come shoot his shot I guess,” I say shrugging taking a swig of my drink. “So that Greek god of a man asked you out and you said no,” she asks with a dumbfounded look on her face. Melody laughs so hard that she almost snorts. “I mean he is good looking but just not for me,” I shrug. She reaches over and puts a hand on my forehead checking for a fever. I laugh and push her hand off me. “I didn’t get his number for me. But after I told him I wasn’t interested he left this for you,” I smile and pass his number over to her.

She squealed and did a happy dance in her seat. “So he wanted Y/n originally, and now he wants you and that is okay,” Melody questions laughing. “Hell, I’d want her too if I was him. I’m happy to be the second choice for her,” she grins reaching across the table and pinching my cheek. We continued to talk and drink until we finally decided to call it. “I’ll pay the tab if you guys grab the Uber,” I say heading to the bar. “So we meet again,” Trevor laughs. I see him with another guy from the table. “Jack,” he reaches out to shake my hand. “Y/n,” I respond shaking it back. “Also thank you so much for humbling him. Really highlight of my night,” he laughs slapping Trevor on the chest. I roll my eyes laughing at the two while waiting for my card back.

“So you told me about the game, but I never got the question they asked you that Cole was the answer to,” the taller boy said leaning his back against the bar. A small blush creeps up onto my cheeks. “Oh, that. Uhm the question was who do you think the hottest person in the room was,” I smile at the bartender for handing me my card. I sign my receipt and grab a napkin writing my number quickly before I chickened out. “Actually could you give this to him for me,” I smile shyly pushing the napkin their way. “No promises,” Trevor winks turning to head back to the table. “I’ll make sure he gets it. For what it’s worth Cole is a really good guy,” Jack says with a smile and heads back.

I give the table one last glance before heading outside to meet the girls. I see the guy who I now know is named Cole smiling really big and blushing. We make eye contact and I give him a big smile and a wave heading outside. We all three get settled in the car deciding to head back to Melody’s place since it was closer. A small buzz interrupts our small talk and I pull out my phone.

Xxx-xxx-xxxx: If it’s any consultation I thought you were the hottest person in the room too ❤️

Xxx-xxx-xxx: this is Cole by the way

Pretty girl at the bar 🩷: yeah I kind of guessed that. and I guess it’s a good thing my friends made me play that stupid game tonight

Cole🔥🥵: well I’m glad my stupid friends made me go out tonight

Pretty girl at the bar 🩷: well here’s to stupid friends and stupid games 🥂

The two of us continued texting the whole night, which continued into the text day. Slowly going from texting to calling, and then calling to Facetime. I learned very quickly that Jack was right, Cole was a really good guy. Every time we walked I started to like him more and more. We had already planned a date for the next weekend. And I couldn’t help but be happy for my friends dragging me out for a girl’s night and playing our dumb game.

#nycbaby21works #nhl imagine #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield #montreal canadiens

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canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 8 months

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Now that submissions are closed, we can talk stats. There were 881 valid, unique submissions for 474 characters! Woof, women have it rough out there!

The most submitted characters, with a relevant propaganda snippet included, are:

1. Sakura Haruno (Naruto): 28 [where do i even fucking begin]

2. Cordelia Chase (Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel): 21 [OH SO MANY THINGS]

3. Misa Amane (Death Note): 20 [The author of Death Note invented new forms of misogyny just to apply them to Misa.]

4. Kaede Akamatsu (Danganronpa V3): 15 [Oh, you thought we would have a female main character in one of our mainline games? With a cool defining talent, no less? That's stupid of you]

5. TIE: Kairi (Kingdom Hearts): 14 [I'm so mad. I think she deserves a gun.]

5. TIE: Stephanie Brown (DC Comics): 14 [She does eventually get retconned as surviving the event and hiding out in Africa (don't ask, it does not make more sense in context)]

The canons with the most submissions, with a relevant propaganda snippet included, are:

1. DC Comics: 61 [DC has SO MUCH sexism it's laughable]

2. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel: 35 [Fuck Joss Whedon, man.]

3. Naruto: 33 [because Kishimoto hates women]

4. Warrior Cats: 26 [Warriors is one of the most misogynistic children's series I've ever seen]

5. Danganronpa: 25 [I honestly had to think about it just to decide which woman is treated the worst because this series hates them so much]

The canons with the most characters submitted, with a relevant propaganda snippet for a specific character included, are:

1. DC Comics: 21 [Free her from the huge tits back breaking pose.]

2. Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel: 12 [Anyways she was so hot and for what. 10/10 my lesbian awakening.]

3. Supernatural: 11 [Yeah, she got randomly killed off-screen for shock value and manpain, but she sent an email right before she died so at least her death wasn't in vain, right?]

4. TIE: Star Trek: 9 [She literally gets teleported out of her clothes in one episode.]

4. TIE: Yu-Gi-Oh!: 9 [One loss is particularly brutal as she falls from a large height directly onto her head and goes into a coma (again. yes this was the second time).]

5. TIE: Warrior Cats: 8 [I'm sure she'll get submitted again just ask any reasonable fan they'll tell you about her and her sister]

5. TIE: Attack on Titan: 8 [As a child soldier, she does commit some war crimes]

And here are some charts to show how some of these entries fucked the scale on my charts:

Look at Sakura, fucking up my chart with her numbers.

On a similar note...

Good god, DC, I know what you did, but add fucking up my charts to your list of crimes.

And now, enjoy some rankings of my favorite things:

My favorite universal sentiment quotes from propaganda are:

She lived she served cunt and then she got killed off super early so that the male characters could experience man pain and also because I guess she would have been too powerful if left alive. [Wen Qing (Mo Dao Zu Shi)]

That design. Dear god. I don't want to live on this planet anymore. [Mitzi (The Queen's Corgi)]

In the end she may have girlbossed too close to the sun, but I support her anger. [Ling Wen (Heaven Official's Blessing)]

the victim of “writer doesn’t understand women and also hates them” disease. [Naomi Misora (Death Note)]

She could 100% kill somebody but nobody ever effing lets her. Rip queen. [Kairi (Kingdom Hearts)]

My favorite raging at a writer quotes from propaganda are:

1. You took every single protagonist to weird lion heaven, Clive, but suddenly Susan isn't good enough. [Susan Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia)]

2. Being a woman written by Joss Whedon should automatically entitle her to financial compensation tbh. [River Tam (Firefly)]

3. A lot can be summed up in a couple words, namely, "Furman, why?" [Arcee (Transformers)]

4. Can you tell respect women juice ran in Tolstoy's veins. [Lise Bolkonskaya (War and Peace)]

5. TIE: (specifically a guy called Dan Didio, who we all hate) [Stephanie Brown (DC Comics)]

5. TIE: until Geoff motherfucking Johns comes into the picture [Pantha (DC Comics)]

My favorite quotes from propaganda that have nothing to do with misogyny, y'all are just funny:

I wish I could use bold here, because there's no such thing as uppercase numbers. [Arcee (Transformers)]

the most convoluted and lore dense piece of media this side of the afton criticality. [Jane Crocker (Homestuck)]

ended up starting a gang war by accident [Stephanie Brown (DC Comics)]

Ashfur, who later turns out to be a murderous incel [Squirrelflight (Warrior Cats)]

Hawkfrost is actively seeing Brambleclaw and his evil father in cat hell. [Squirrelflight (Warrior Cats)]

#not polls #stats

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xoxoskai · 3 months

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KAYDENGARETH HEADCANNONS

I like to think their book could've been called God of Misery. Why? I don't know. It just sounds cool.

Gareth has extreme OCD. As children, Killian used to mess with his things, hide them or displace them from their original place which made him develop an obsessiveness with knowing where all his things were kept.

Kayden inhales copious amounts of black coffee in a day. I'm talking 8-9 ventis.

Gareth is blackmailed convinced by Kayden to become his teaching assistant.

Kayden wanted easy access and to have tabs on Gareth the whole time, but it backfires when Gareth organizes his entire schedule, all his coursework and makes additional notes for him to go over.

Kayden is a tie hoarder. Navy blue, scarlet red, violet, turquoise, beige, you name it, he has it.

Asher thinks he's Gareth's inspiration to become a lawyer, but Gareth watched Suits.

Kayden wears suspenders.

Gareth's aim is better than most Heathens, even Jeremy. But he doesn't enjoy hurting people. The accuracy with which he throws a pencil at a teacher flirting with Kayden is impressive.

He's equally good at fleeing situations.

Kayden is the kind of professor who challenges his students to do something ridiculous to get out of writing the final exam. His students think he's cool, but Gareth knows he just hates grading papers.

Gareth's handicap in golf is +1. He has been his grandfather's golfing buddy for ages.

Kayden has a license to fly planes. Don't ask him how he got it though.

Yes, they join the mile high club.

Gareth is extremely good with cheating at card games much to Kayden's chagrin during strip poker.

Kayden is acquaintances by association with Kyle, Gareth's uncle.

Gareth has lost count of the number of times he's caught himself drooling every time Kayden takes his suit jacket off.

Kayden is more flirtatious by nature but sometimes Gareth says suggestive things that make him speechless. Most times, Gareth does it accidentally.

Kayden: *complaining about how his body is aching from sitting in a chair all day* Gareth: I can help you relax if you'd like. Kayden: Gareth: Kayden: Gareth: I have a massage therapist license.

Gareth wears reading glasses because he is a reader by nature. He can read instructions off a shampoo bottle day after day, year after year just to have something to read while he showers.

Kayden has to physically stop himself from reacting and ask for strength from greater forces the first time he sees Gareth pull out gold-rimmed glasses and put them on while he was helping grade assignments. He does fantasize about helping Gareth take the glasses and more off.

Killian is the last of the Heathens to find out about Gareth's involvement with his professor. And it's not in a fun manner.

He catches Kayden being pushy with his older brother, misunderstands and nearly pummels his face in.

He has to be thrown off Kayden who is one second away from rearranging his boyfriend's younger brother's face.

Killian is gaping when he puts two and two together about what is happening.

Before he can make a joke at his expense, Gareth gives him a look that dares him to say something or deal with consequences like never before. Killian stays quiet mostly because he's never seen that murderous look on his brother's face, no matter how far he pushed him.

"You can do better than him" he's telling Kayden as he leaves. "Not in this lifetime, no" Kayden responds, pulling Gareth closer.

Kayden participates in the initiation to pull an uno reverse and chase the green mask down. It makes some of the participants stop and stare in bewilderment.

Gareth is competitive to a fault. Like- I would edit an entire Wikipedia page to win an argument- competitive.

Kayden is not as competitive and doesn't particularly care about winning but he loves egging Gareth on till he gives him a reason to put his tie collection to good use (:

They have been caught in a situation where someone was knocking at the door to Kayden's office, opposite which they were making out.

Gareth watches Kayden roll his sleeves up with hawk eyes and almost groans in torture when he sees the protruding veins.

Once Kayden finds out about Gareth's obsession with watching him undress, he puts on a show every. single. time.

But then Gareth, Gareth with his long, slender fingers and perfectly cleaned, shaped and filed nails, helps undress him one time and Kayden is a goner.

Gareth wears a chain with Kayden's ring around his neck, something Kayden goes feral whenever he looks at. He's pulled Gareth closer with it on multiple occasions.

Kayden puts his hand on Gareth's thigh while driving.

Are Asher and Reina surprised when Gareth brings a boyfriend home? Yes. Do they care about the gender of their son's partner? No.

Even Kayden gets along better with Asher than Killian does.

Kayden is loved by Reina. Like she would adopt him the moment Asher looks away.

Killian never apologizes for what he said but he does ask Gareth if he'd like to go hunting together sometime. It's a truce that Gareth is more than happy to accept.

Kayden takes Gareth out flying to propose when they'd be over the crystal-clear waters and passing through clouds only to realize he forgot to bring the ring with him in his anxiety and haste.

He improvises and proposes to Gareth in bed, rehashing the entire thing making him laugh and accept.

Gareth then reaches into his nightstand and pulls out the ring he was planning to propose with.

"You can just pretend to be surprised tomorrow at your surprise proposal" Gareth is telling him between kisses. "I can pretend to do anything as long as I'm doing it with you."

___________________________________

Tissues, anyone?

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