#but then i get hit in the face with a rabbit and i understand

[not-goldy]

I wanna eat it. * Points camera at Jimin * Arrest me. Do Cardio with Me/Grunts. Do you want Rameyon? Rabbit spit is spicy. I want you. I will give him a kiss. I can handle it. Yes, he can handle it. Jungkook you're no joke. You liked being tied up, don't lie. Runs fingers through hair, breathes heavily, licks lips before wishing his bro a happy birthday. Hickeys, neck biting, neck kissing, ear sucking, tiddy slapping, thigh pinching, crotch footsie, hand licking, neck stradelling, hands all up on each other's asses at every opportunity. You like me that much? I'm shameless, so is that why you like me more? Jk starring Jimin down when he tied his own hands up and was being walked around on a leash. Both getting in each other's face & lip space, inching closer and closer til one backs off, multiple times. What are they even doing? If they haven't acted on it, I know they both got blue balls because of all the teasing they been doing & basically daring the other to just go for it & come and get it already.

For real hun

Arrest me.....

Like which bro says that to his bro free me

It's even more disturbing when we've seen Jimin creep out and cringe hard at other members trying to flirt with him. He be hitting them with the don't do that. And I recall two members almost washing out their mouths with soap after an accidental kiss

Pretty sure I'll get burnt at the stake if I said to my sister, Arrest me. Yet they want us to believe two bros would have no problem saying that to eachother.

I want you- then Jimin giggles and tells him that sound isn't good if people hear him say that- dude knew Jungkook wasn't thinking of him as a brother when he was saying that shit. Why warn him off if it's harmless and most important of all STRAIGHT.

Jungkook is bent on being gay with Jimin. Yall should call a spade a spade. He means that shit from his gay chest when he says them and he understands what it means to flirt with a man yet he does it anyway no matter how bad you want him to present a clean hyper straight facade.

Let's eat ramen- GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE WITH YOUR HORNY GAY ASS

We ate beef- yea sure. Get all that meat King. Beat it up eat it up catch all that bull meat charge it up add that gizzard lips to it munch on it lick your finger sprinkle the fruits on top of it and get away with it cos the naive straight bunch have no clue what the fuck you talking about.

And if we say anything then suddenly we are the crazy ones

How a bunch of boys who grew up together even develop the desire to play flirt with one another is troubling to me not gonna lie

I have female besties I've known since kindergarten- one tried to grope me while we shared a bed and that disgusted me to the core cos I will never with her she's a sister at this point and so so so so not my type LIKE AT ALL.

The only way I can flirt like that with a friend is if I harbored romantic feelings about them from the very start or if I never thought of them as "friends" but as potential suitors

It's wrong to give each other a boner in the name of "fanservice" cos at the end of the day blue balls a bitch, bitch

[hunnylagoon]

The Girl That Time Forgot

Ellie Williams x Reader

Find me in one thousand years, I will always be waiting here.

Premise: Ellie is the only time traveller who uses her uncommon gift to rewind time and constantly pester you-the only immortal who made a deal with death in 412 BC and is cursed to walk the earth for all eternity. Forever was promised but you never knew the price.

Warnings: death / murder / mentions of suicide / self-harm / toxic relationship /sickness / violence / angst / war / mentions of drugs / lovers?friends(ish)?enemies? it’s complicated / mild gore / things get nuts

ONE-SHOT | WC 18k (so you know what you’re getting into)

AID PALESTINE!

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

Come back in one hundred years, you'll always find me here.

Rain splashes against the skin of your face in lands of ancient Greece, where the winds themselves whispered stories of gods and heroes, neither of which you were. You were nothing more than a frightened woman running away from an unforgiving husband in the dead of night where your quickened heartbeat falls in rhythm to the ocean which is almost as angry as the storm that roars above.

Carefully you dodge the jagged rocks sticking out from the sand, you had memorized each and every one after days of burning your skin on the shores. Water surged against the rocks near your feet, white froth sizzling in the waves retreating like it was trying to drag you in and take you for its own.

Your heavy breathing was devoured by the heavy rain and cracks of lighting, the sounds of thunder so deep it was like Zeus himself was stomping in the clouds. Despite the night being dark you trusted the moonlight that glimmered off of the ocean to guide you. You have nothing more than the soaking wet clothes on your back, jewelry to sell, and the drachmas you had stolen from your husband tucked away safely in a wool tagari purse.

Someone grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks "Hey!" They say, though you can't quite make out the figure in the dark you know it's a woman from the voice alone. "You need to go home." Fear pushes adrenaline to course through your veins at the sound of an unheard tongue babbling in your ears.

Your eyebrows furrow, clutching the bag even harder in your free hand. "Φύγε από μένα!" You scream, trying to force your voice to be louder than the malicious storm that brews over your head. You try to pull your hand away but the woman stands firm hardly even moving.

"Fuck," She mutters, you don't understand a word. In this moment you feel like a rabbit preparing to get devoured by a wolf, whoever this woman was you were shaken to your core like you had just uncovered a dead body. "I forgot that you can't speak English yet."

You struggle under the grip of the woman, using the hand which was holding tightly onto the tagari and begin to hit the woman before you to pry her off your wrist "Δεν θα πάω πίσω, τον μισώ μέχρι θανάτου!" You shout voice loud as thunder.

"Ow!" She said wrinkling her nose and trying to apprehend the hand that was hitting her "Can you stop?" She asks, even though you can't understand her it's worth a shot in her mind.

This does nothing to stop your protest, you only hit her harder hammering your purse against her head until she finally lets go of your wrist to block your swinging. Lighting cracks and just for a moment you catch a glimpse of her. Short brown hair that falls at her shoulders, and freckles across her face, something you had never seen before. What frightened you wasn't the sharpness of her green eyes but her clothes, an alien concept to you. She didn't wear a tunic but a scratchy blue fabric tight on her legs and what to you resembled a baggy grey burlap sack with a piece of cloth hanging off the back. In recent years it has come to be known as jeans and a hoodie.

"Δαίμονα, μάγισσα, φύγε!" You smack her once more for good measure and turn quickly on your sandal-covered heel to get away from her. You were as wild and untamed as the ocean itself, with eyes that sparkled with a craving for more than honey dripping down your tongue and salt smeared across your lips.

"Remember I tried to help you this time!" She shouts, her voice is so far off in the distance that you barely heard it through the storm. Even if her words were clear it made no difference, you didn't speak her tongue, and any warning fell unheard upon your ears "Have fun being twenty forever!"

You ran even faster than you had before, you didn't even turn around to see if the woman was still on your tail.

The salty spray stung your cheeks as you ran, your breath ragged and steps unsteady. The wind howled in protest, whipping at the wet hair that stuck to your face and neck, tearing at your white peplos, turned translucent on your body by the water. But you paid no heed to the fury of the elements, for you were driven by a desperate need to escape.

As you reached the edge of a rocky outcrop, your leather sandal caught on a slick stone, sending you tumbling to the ground. With a sickening thud, your head struck against the unforgiving rock, and the world around you spun into darkness.

You were dead. Body limp on the plethora of rocks, the tide slowly lulling over your body until it swallowed you whole and sucked you in deeper. Ropes of hair twist before your dull eyes, unmoving into the deep.

You sink further in and open your eyes though you are still deceased, your body still falling cold. Selene stands before you in the form of midnight. Her body was ebony and deep blue, half woman, half moon. Long black hair like ink tipped with moonlight spills down her breasts and her hips, she watches you with her pale eyes imploring.

The goddess before you turns to lead the way, enticing you to follow. Each step sends knives through your limbs. Your mouth tastes like blood and your lungs burn red hot though every time you try to breathe you choke and sputter of nothing, still, you follow Selene into the nothingness ahead.

Finally, she turns, one finger pressed to her lips, signalling you to be quiet. Beside her, a pale soldier appears in fine silver armour chiselled against his muscular body. The areas that the armour does not cover, his arms and an area of his legs between the middle of his thighs to just below his knees, tattered bandages hang around his limbs, They sway in the nothingness and shed by themselves. You see open wounds deep and red, beginning to bleed but his pasty skin sews itself up, leaving no scar behind, nothing but smooth flesh. Wings larger than the man himself sprout from his back. Thanatos.

Thanatos bows his head, hiding his deep sunken eyes beneath a Corinthian helmet. You should be afraid that you face the god of death but you aren't. This is a better fate than being hauled back to your husband.

He takes his helmet off, long dark hair falls onto his shoulders and he regards you. Thanatos is wordless as he stares at you, taking in every of your face, every curve of your body. He doesn't speak but you understand him well, too much beauty to go to waste.

Selene has left you to take her place back in the night sky, she watches you were she hangs on a beam of moonlight. In one hand Thanatos holds a silver knife. Your voice betrays you, for once your loud screeching voice is lost.

He holds out his hand, pitch black at the fingertips. You can tell he is trying to strike a deal as if he had put his words into your mind without ever even moving his lips.

You look at his hand and then at his face, death was less frightening than you had imagined, handsome for a god who took so many lives. He lets his offer sit and settle within you, he doesn't try to sweeten the deal, he offers you another chance and that is that.

The second you shake Death's hand, he pulls away from your grip and takes the silver dagger to your heart. With ease, he slices back layers of flesh in one swoop leaving your bones exposed before him. Using what seemed to be little effort for the god of death, he breaks your ribs and pulls out your heart.

You watch it beat in his hand, the blood drifting out of it like ribbons that hook around your limbs, you know you have made a mistake. For the first time, Thanatos smiles. Oh, how the wolf wore the sheep as a wicked disguise. he squeezes the heart and at the crush of his hand, you feel ice shoot through your veins.

Your eyes open, properly open. You were alone. You wake up in nothing more than a metre of water and immediately cry out in pure terror at the horrifying images that your mind has conjured up. You run through the salty ocean and back to the shore.

The storm hadn't subsided which helped to camouflage your sobs as you frantically felt around your body with shaking hands to be sure that the god of death hadn't ripped out your heart. Surely enough, your rib cage was intact. You fall onto your hands and knees heaving up all of the ocean water you had swallowed.

The purse that held your resources for escaping had either been devoured by the ocean or stolen off your body. Your wirey hands touch the back of your hand, you expect to shudder under the pain of the open wound that knocked you unconscious. Instead of pain shooting from a gash in your head, you are perfectly intact.

You look down at your hands, no trace of blood.

Maybe it was time to start believing in myths because you were in one.

Rome - July- 116 AD

Don't they know it's the end of the world?

At the center of the world, you had been buried alive for three years after switching places with a Vestal Virgin who looked remarkably identical to you in exchange you gained a large sum for your alleged death. When you were buried you hadn't thought much about how you would get out, you just knew that you wouldn't suffocate or starve.

After the second year passed you were beginning to think that offering to get enclosed in a stone tomb with bread, water, oil, a candle, and a bed wasn't a great way to live your abnormally long life. The air grew stale, and the silence of the tomb echoed with the whispers of the dead that surrounded you on all four walls.

Before sleeping every single night, you prayed to the gods to take your life but they never listened. What you once thought to be a blessing had turned out to be a curse, no blessing would make you crave death the same way you craved sunlight and cream. You had given away the gift of aging for a sweet pleasure that quickly became bitter on your tongue.

The first few moons after you had slipped into unconsciousness you truly believed it at all been some strange hallucination caused by smacking your dead until you took a steep tumble and fell on your husband's hunting knife only to pull it out of your body and watch the skin over your stomach fix itself up, leaving no evidence behind that it had ever happened aside from the blood on the knife.

All you know to do is survive.

It's not like you hadn't tried to find a way out of it, some loophole that would shatter the deal and set you free. You had 527 years to try and make some sense of it, but you had given up and resorted to trying to find a way to end your life. Every time you did that, Ellie always showed up to help but you were back together.

You didn't understand the words that came from her mouth, all you knew was that her name was Ellie and she was cursed like you. What was she cursed with? You weren't sure but she seemed a little less miserable with you.

Ellie would come into your life now and then, usually an unwelcome surprise, she always knew where to find you. The only consistent face that you've seen for 527 years. She seemed to know more about you than you knew about her.

Overhead of the tomb, you see a crack of light slip through one of the stones that sealed you in. A tremor shook the earth, and the ancient stones of the tomb began to crumble. Light spilled into the darkness as the walls collapsed around you.

Surely enough Ellie's head looked down at you. She smiles and extends a hand to help you out "Sorry I took so long, I had to time it right with the earthquake, you picked poor timing to get buried alive." She hauled you up, and you stepped over the rubble with bare feet, careless of whether you gut them on the freshly shattered stone or not, you knew that they would heal over regardless.

Despite still not understanding her tongue you were for a change, glad to see her. As you suspected, your feet had been sliced up, leading a little trickle of blood in your wake. The moment you reached the surface, you collapsed to the ground. The city was crumbling around you but they were the ones who locked you away in the first place. You ignored Ellie's unknown words and felt the lush grass for the first time in three years, the heat of the sun resting on your skin.

Beside you, Ellie wrinkles her nose. "You've definitely smelled better," This is one of the times when she dresses appropriately for the era, a toga slung around her toned figure. "Oh, I thought you might be hungry so I brought this, I know you don't have to eat but I figured it would be nice," She unfolded a piece of cloth beside her revealing a small stack of round pastries that had little brown dark spots in it, nothing you had seen before.

You furrow your eyebrows, partly in confusion, partly because your eyes were still adjusting to the light after being enclosed in darkness for three years. "Τι κοιτάζω;"

"They aren't bad I promise," She says, she had made an effort to learn Greek for you but it proved too difficult, all she knew was the odd word. "They're cookies and don't tell anyone because I'm pretty sure they don't get invented for six hundred years."

Ellie speaks freely like you comprehend every word that she says. You make a face that almost resembles a snarl as you eye her and the cookies suspiciously.

"In a few more centuries we're cool with each other," She eats one of the cookies, slowly taking a bite to show you that they were edible. The cookies are a little too good however and she eats the entire thing in mere seconds, speaking through a mouth full of crumbs "Maybe more than a few centuries," She corrects herself "It's like a thousand years and then some but you come around."

She looks once more at the confusion on your face and gives up on trying to verbally communicate, instead she just holds the cloth holding the chocolate chip cookies towards you and looking into her eyes as sharp as a wolf, you hesitantly take one.

Norwich, England- November- 1327

I can't take my eyes of you.

In the dimly lit streets of the town, where the stench of death hung heavy in the air and fear gripped the hearts of its inhabitants. People no longer walked freely around town, they were either sick and on the trek to become puss-filled corpses or they locked themselves away and observed the demise of friends and foes from their windows.

You had seen civilizations rise and fall and witnessed the ebb and flow of history itself, but nothing could have prepared you for the horror that awaited you in the plague-ridden streets of the town. As the death toll rose with each passing day, you donned the garb of a plague doctor, your face concealed behind a grotesque mask adorned with beak-like protrusions filled with aromatic herbs that helped to cover the sickly sweet smell of rotten corpses.

Armed with little more than your knowledge of ancient remedies and a desperate desire to ease the suffering of the afflicted, you ventured into the heart of the epidemic, where the sick lay writhing in agony and the cries of the dying echoed through the night like they were eating themselves alive.

"Jeez, this isn't good," Ellie appears beside you, out of thin air like she tended to do. Now she was wearing a green dress, long bell sleeves and a golden trim around the dress, she wore a white vale pushing her hair back. Though she was dressed for the time period she looked out of place in the garb of a noblewoman, surrounded by the sick and dying peasants. "I can't stick around too long because an official vaccine for the bubonic plague isn't developed until 2072."

"How many people will die from this?" You ask, voice somewhat muffled from the leather mask, stuffed with herbs.

"About fifty," She trails off "Million."

You were not a god's chosen but a god's cursed. You had already suspected her to say something along those lines. Your voice failed as you watched the searchers who had been employed by the city, dragging dead bodies off into a pit to be buried in a mass grave.

"Look on the bright side-

"There is no bright side," You turn to walk away from her, shoving Ellie into the back of your mind.

With each patient you tended to, you felt the weight of your immortality pressing down upon her—a burden too heavy to carry, yet one you could not escape. You watched as the plague consumed the bodies and souls of those around you, leaving nothing but death and apathy in its wake, a dream that this would be over soon.

Immortality was a mockery, you thought yourself to be a spectacle to the gods above, nothing more than cruel entertainment. As much as you run, you get nowhere, you always end up in the same place, watching those you developed bonds and memories with die.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you fought tirelessly against the tide of death, your resolve unyielding even in the face of overwhelming odds. But with each passing day, her heart grew heavier, burdened by the weight of countless lives lost and the knowledge that she alone would bear witness to their suffering for eternity.

A boy on his porch cries for his mom and dad who will never be coming home, his sobs echo through the narrow streets like a wolf's howl.

As the moon cast its ghostly glow upon the desolate streets, you stood amidst a sea of bodies, your gloved hands stained with the blood of the fallen. The plague had taken its toll, claiming the lives of all those you had sworn to protect, leaving you alone in a world consumed by darkness.

Henry, a stonemason who had no family aside from his little brother now cries over his body. Sam, the young boy had been hit hard with the disease, the sores covered almost every inch of his body and turned black upon his ebony skin. You had watched every stage of his sickness, there was no cure other than comfort, the only thing you couldn't offer to Henry at that moment.

You could turn the brothers into poetry but you couldn't offer up the immortality that you carried like a cross you had to bear.

He held Sam's corpse in his arms, hugging him close and sobbing. Henry was freshly infected there was no way he would make it out alive though you weren't sure that he even wanted to after watching his baby brother's hands turn pitch black and seize up.

How strange that you, someone who was not deserving of eternal life, was the one burdened with it. People are dying and you can't get a grip.

With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, you cast aside her mask, the symbol of your futile efforts to defy the inevitable. For in that moment, you realized that no amount of healing could undo the damage wrought by the plague, and no amount of compassion could ease the pain of those who had been lost.

You turned your back on the town that had become your prison, the echoes of its suffering fading into the night. For though you were immortal, you were not invincible—bound by the chains of your own existence, condemned to wander the earth as a silent witness to the fleeting moments of life and the relentless march of death.

Salem, America- April- 1692

Immortal she, return to me.

The paranoid colonial Massachusetts was not the place for a woman who never ages. You grew careless of covering up your secret and lived on the outskirts of Salem, seen by few but that didn't aid the treacherous rumours whispered about you.

You had been there when they settled in 1626 and hadn't aged a day from the time you settled. This had spread into rumours of you dancing with the devil, practicing witchcraft, and bewitching townspeople.

Though many denied your existence, all fingers pointed towards you when two young cousins began acting erratically and were given the diagnosis of being under an evil hand.

The courtroom was a hallowed chamber of unjust judgment, where the accused stood trial before the watchful eyes of the magistrate and the hushed voices of the gathered crowd. You stood, with your hands bound and your head held high, faced your accusers with a steely resolve, eyes burning with a fire that refused to be extinguished.

As the trial unfolded, it became clear that justice was but a mere facade—a thin veil masking the insidious machinations of those who sought to rid the town of its perceived evils. Witnesses were coerced, evidence fabricated, and lies spun like silk until the truth became little more than a distant memory lost to paranoia and skepticism. In the crowd, mixed in with the townspeople, you saw Ellie.

Her steady gaze on you was unmoving and ever-focused, a small smile played on her lips while she watched you face the accusations, anger simmering deep inside you like a curse.

Despite protestations of innocence, you were found guilty of witchcraft—a verdict as unjust as it was inevitable. With a silent prayer upon your lips, you were led to the gallows, where the noose awaited you like a taunt.

You had still been bound by your hands in front of your grime-covered dress from being imprisoned in a dark cellar for a month which felt like mere hours in your lifespan.

A man named David, one of the wealthiest residents of Salem and the first to seek warrants against the accused innocent aided you into stepping onto the back of a cart. The crowd surrounding you cheered while a church member slipped the noose tied to a tree around your neck.

"Hang the witch!" Ellie shouts and you lock eyes with her, feeling nothing more than bitterness and resentment. She still seems unfazed and somewhat amused like she's seen this a thousand times, she likely has. You know she had already watched you 'die' over and over again, Ellie was desensitized to it.

"Hang her!" Another man yells, following Ellie's act in tow. They scream all around you, jeering for your death which would never come. David and the churchman step off the wagon and the crowd gets even louder, anticipating a broken neck and lifeless eyes. David gave a command and the horses pulling the wagon were off, leaving your feet to flail helplessly over nothing.

Even as the rope tightened around your neck and the crowd jeered and spat their curses. Though you couldn't die the pain of the rope restricting your breathing still ran you ragged. For just a brief moment you pretend to die, and those around you cheer. There is so little hesitation in their voices, they were glad to see you dead.

You begin to thrash around, kicking your feet. When the townspeople realized you weren't deceased their cheers of victory fell into silence as you coughed and sputtered on the build-up of saliva and blood choking you. An eery silence falls upon the land while they watch in horror, waiting for you to die. Ellie bites back a smile from where she watches you. You bring your hands, bound together by the wrist to reach up and grab the rope that you hung by. Gathering all the force you can you yank it harshly, over and over again until it finally snaps and you fall to the ground.

David's face falls completely. You had known him to not truly believe in witchcraft but the murder of innocents and threatening women. The look in his eyes when he saw you stumble to your feet. "Witch!"

"Ay, I am the witch!" You shout, the townfolk backing away. You slip your hand where the rope strangled your bent neck, the moment the noose comes loose you pull it off over your head, holding it in one hand. In only seconds the broken bones in your neck heal and you bring your head up, chain raised tall, the wound where the rope dug into your neck disappearing "I am older than your oldest god, I am more ancient than the winds, and more sacred than your cross." You say, only to frighten them.

"Kill her!" David shouts to which no one answers, they are either running or frozen in terror, saving themselves before anyone else.

David isn't fast enough to run, you grab him by his hair and drag his struggling body back beneath the tree where he had hung you. In the blue hour of the day, you hooked the severed noose around his neck and began to walk, dragging his trashing body back to your home on the outskirts of the town. David's body eventually fell limp, still, you dragged it over the rocks and lumps of cobblestone. You had succeeded in making him as afraid of you as you were of him.

You were the first woman who hung in the trials, far from the last. "Headed west now?" Ellie asks, walking beside you, utterly unfazed by what she just witnessed.

Boston, America- March- 1770

In the darkness I will meet my creators, they will all agree that I'm a suffocator.

In the cobblestone streets of colonial Boston, where the talks of revolution were murmured, propaganda poured. There you resided, someone once worshipped as a god whose true name had long been forgotten by history.

But amidst the fervour of the American colonies on the brink of rebellion, you found yourself drawn to the heart of the struggle after the church bells had been rung sending confused people onto the streets covered with snow and out of their homes.

It was on the night of March 5, 1770, that tragedy struck with a swift and merciless hand where a pull of a trigger would be written into history textbooks—the night of the Boston Massacre. As tensions between the colonists and the British soldiers reached a boiling point, you stood amidst the thronging crowd.

The air crackled with tension as the soldiers, emboldened by their orders to maintain order at all costs, faced off against the angry mob, assaulting them with snowballs, chunks of ice and oyster shells for hours on end. With shouts and hollers ringing through the night, protesting the raise of tax brought by King George.

Before the rage-filled crowd stand nine English soldiers holding their ground while the mob grows more and more impatient. This had started when a wig maker apprentice got in a spat with a private stationed outside of the customs house who in turn clobbered the boy with his musket.

The eight soldiers and the captain endure the jeers of the crowd led by Crispus Attucks. The Captain, Preston, refused to fire upon the crowd though as he commanded them from the front, in the line of fire.

You push your way up through the crowd, interweaving through hundreds of people. You watch the nine men stand tall against the sea of angry colonials. One of the men is hit hard in the head with a jagged rock, he falls back to the ground his musket clattering neck to him, just then, behind them in the darkness shouts a voice "Fire!"

With little to no hesitation, the man who fell over quickly scuttles to his feet, firing into the darkness of the evening. Then, in an instant that seemed to stretch into eternity, the first shot rang out—a deafening explosion that shattered the silence of the night and sent shockwaves rippling through the crowd. The other men follow, firing a volley one at a time. Beside you, you hear the thuds of heavy bodies hitting the ground, you don't have much time to process it before a bullet lands right in your head, the bullet finds its mark, striking you down with a force that seems to rend your immortal body asunder.

For a moment, time stood still—the world around you spinning in a dizzying blur of pain and confusion. "Hault!" Preston the captain orders, the soldiers cease fire at his command, confused as they believed him to be the one who ordered fire.

You used the rising surge of anger and fear emanating from the people around you to disappear into the crowd. Men grew even more angry at this, some dispersed but many stayed put. There were only a few women in a horde of hundred, it was difficult to go unnoticed with a bleeding gash on your head, you looked more monster than human, skin on your face replaced by a mass of flesh and blood. You brought your hands up to rest on the top of your head, arms out in front of you to cover what was once your face so your already scared neighbours wouldn't see a breathing corpse.

You stumbled around on your feet, pushing yourself through the mass of people, all moving in your opposite direction, making it harder for you to keep your head down. "Is something wrong?" A woman asks, you disregard her, shoving her away from you to keep moving. Your head rang with a high-pitched whistling, echoing through your brain, and you could hardly see straight with the one eye you now had, eyesight fuzzy. Each person ahead of you blurred into the next, blood gushing down your face, so much that it trickled into your eye and tinted your vision.

The wound wasn't clean by any means, not a neat through and through. The gunshot had got you right up the cheek and into your forehead, half of your face entirely blown off. The close impact of the shot caused your right eye to burst, you were scrambling away with no face and one eye.

Already you could feel your body working to put itself back together, still blood flowed down from the horror that was your face, down your neck to soak into your stay and your once grey skirts. You leave a trail of blood in your wake, dripping into the snow that is sure to be found my morning.

At last, you finally pass the crowd, though you don't stop. You stumble into the dark streets, running until you tumble on cobblestones slick with snow and slush, eyesight heavily impaired. "You've seen prettier deaths," Ellie sucks a breath through her teeth, she isn't in the dress that a woman would wear in that decade, instead, she's clad in a red coat, the uniform of a British soldier, her hair tied up and tucked beneath a black cap that all of the soldiers adorned.

She stretches her hand out to help, you take it. Instead of being gracious that she came around to help you off the ground, you take a swing at her face, and when your face makes contact with her cheek you hear a crack. Ellie takes a step back, shocked as you haven't hit her since the night you first met, 2181 years prior to that moment. "Why would you scream fire?" You cry. The second you heard the voice, you knew it was Ellie though you hadn't had time to process it before your face was blown off. "Those men are dead, Ellie, they will never go home to their families or take another breath!"

"They die anyway," She retorts, one hand hovering over her now broken cheekbone. You look at her now, your skull re-intact, eyeball sewn itself up and found its place back in your socket, flesh weaves and stretches over your bones to its rightful place. "Fuck," Ellie mutters, wincing as she touches to fingers to her newfound injury "The second that soldier gets hit with that rock, he gets back up and starts shooting, every single time."

You freeze "Every single time?" The very moment the words fall from your lips, Ellie curses herself "How many times have you been here, on this day?"

"Maybe like," She raises an arm in defence the other still cradling her cheek as she winces"Thirty-seven times give or take."

"You've never stopped it?"

"I have," She says, eyebrows furrowing with a certain longing "It ruins everything, if those men don't die, the American revolution never takes place." Ellie's gaze softens "I know that it's awful but it happens whether you're here or not, it was meant to happen."

Ellie reaches out to hold one of your blood-covered hands, but you are quick to retract it, pulling it away. Your eyes move from where her hand waits for yours to intertwine with it to her freckled face. "How many lives have we lived together?"

Her outstretched hand falls to her side. "I don't want to answer that."

"I want to know."

She shakes her head "You'd hate me."

"I already hate you," Your mouth acting faster than your head.

Ellie doesn't seem shocked by this statement, just a little hurt. "We've had good lives together, you don't hate me every time."

"Who have I been to you?" You ask, new questions surging through your scrambled mind, questions you were sure you wouldn't like the answer to. You knew Ellie had the ability to jump between time periods, though you hadn't known that she'd met you in other timelines.

Looking deep into her downturned eyes your mind runs rampant with who you could've been to her in other timelines that defined what you meant to her now. It was like trying to recall memories that didn't belong to you, but another version of yourself- what could've been.

The hushed silence finally dissipates when Ellie opens her mouth again "I'll see you in a hundred years." With that, she turns and walks away into the darkness, her body shrouded by the cold night where screams of the freshly dead hang in the winds like sickening howls.

Nebraska, America - June - 1883

I'll be seeing you.

"Not a bad place to camp, huh?" Tommy smiles at us while the sun blazes overhead, the group disregards him as they set up camp in a grassy clearing with just enough trees to offer shade to the overworked horses. Few pitched tents while the majority prepared for a night of sleeping under the clear sky, unprotected from the elements.

His question falls upon deaf ears "What's in Montana?" Another man, Issac asks. "We're going all this way and I want to know what I've uprooted my life for."

"Untouched land, you'll be a rich man." Tommy takes the cowboy hat off the top of his head, using it to fan himself off, protesting the sweltering heat that devoured him whole beneath layers.

You eye him, unsaddling your horse, Shimmer. You were in a group of people headed to settle in Montana, many of whom you had never spoken to and didn't necessarily want to. The only ones who you had properly known were the Miller family, Maria had been the one who told you about the trip initially, telling you they needed more gunslingers. With a face that doesn't age, a decade was getting a little too long to stay in Cody and here was your offer to get away.

Joel was speaking in hushed tones to his daughter, Sarah. She was nodding along to each word her father said, you had guessed it was a set of rules, him telling her not to run off or chase down wild animals.

You shower your sweaty chestnut horse with little pats and scratches, and she gives you a snort in response as you begin to wipe away the grime she's accumulated over the day's journey. Your entire life was packed away into two saddle bags, there wasn't much room for luxury in the Wild West. Times were harsh and lands were rugged, more commonly violent than anything you'd ever seen.

As you move in front of Shimmer to pet her soft face, she sneezes on you, reverberating on the rubber lips. You scrunch up your nose, and bring your sleeve to wipe your face "You're lucky you're cute," You mutter, hearing the sound of giggling and looking to find Sarah "Hey little lady."

"Hi," Her accent was thick, she came straight from the heart of Texas. Sarah was still young, the things you knew about her dad were only what she had told you, oversharing their personal life.

"Leave her alone now," Joel walks up behind Sarah, her wide eyes looking up at him.

"I don't mind, Joel," You answer. "I saw some sour cherries by the river if you care to come pick 'em with me," You say looking at Sarah whose head immediately shoots to her dad "As long as your father says it's okay."

Sarah silently pleads with her daughter, his gaze is still cold like steel. "Maybe tomorrow," He answers and Sarah's face drops. Despite knowing the Millers for months, Joel was always iffy about letting Sarah out of his sight. He knew almost as well as you how vile the world was, especially to young girls.

"Maybe tomorrow," You repeat Joel's words, digging around in your saddlebags for a small wicker basket and cloth to spread out at the bottom "I'll see y'all around," You give the pair a nod before heading down the bank.

The walk was quick and scenic if you ignored the overwhelming heat and the entirely too many layers you were sweltering beneath. You closed your eyes and let your spirit lift with the sounds of rustly grass and the flowing river nearby. The air was thick with the sweet smell of wildflowers mixed with an earthy bitterness from the ground beneath your feet.

You walked towards the tree, carefully plucking ripe cherries. They reminded you of the same ones you once picked back in Greece, as you ate them the juice smeared down your lips you laughed with your sibling, pretending that you had been blood drinkers or angry gods drinking the wine that was poured for them.

You often find solace in reminiscing over all of the people you have been in the span of one lifetime. You've been a wife, doctor, witch, god, poet, farmer, handmaiden, dressmaker, priestess, and now you were just a woman picking cherries and planning out her next facade. What awaited you in Montana? Hopefully somewhere peaceful, a cabin by a stream where you could live alone and lay outside in a grassy meadow, waiting for the sun to swallow you whole.

After filling the wicker basket, almost to the brim with small sour cherries, a little larger than the end of your thumb. You turn to walk back to the campsite, though you pause at the incline of the riverbank and decide against it, instead, you find yourself sitting under the shade of the cherry tree, staring to the other side of the riverbank.

You thought that you could've spent the rest of eternity under that cherry tree where you listen to the songs the earth sings for you. Here, the air is clean. The river itself was a sight to behold, a ribbon of shimmering blue that wound its way through the landscape, its waters sparkling in the sunlight like a thousand diamonds. Here and there, small ripples danced across the surface, creating patterns of light and shadow that played upon the sandy riverbed below.

Someone sits next to you, you can sense them awkwardly shuffling around to try and get comfy, from that alone you knew it was Ellie. "Hi, it's been a while," You say, voice quiet.

"Hey," She takes a cherry out of the wicker basket beside you, she bites into it, juice dribbling down her chin, nose scrunches when the sour taste hits her tongue. "Fuck, that's sour."

"They're supposed to be, they're sour cherries," You look at her face to see a large dark bruise engulfing one of her cheekbones, it spreads under her puffy eye bag, giving her a real shiner over her eyelid. "What happened to your face?"

"You," She says, pressing her lips together "After the Boston massacre you hit me pretty hard, remember?"

Your eyebrows furrow "That was more than a hundred years ago."

"For you," She corrects "It's been a little under a week for me."

Your gaze shifts to the glimmering river in front of you "That must be nice," That familiar sense of bitterness set in once again, the reason why you could never stomach being around Ellie for too long. She could blip in and out of your life as she wanted but you were the one forced to sit through thousands of years of torment and longing for the sweet release of death that taunted you in mirrors and the eyes of those who thought they knew you well.

She falls short of words to say. In your eyes it was nice, in her eyes, she faced the woman whom she had married in another life who held nothing more than a little resentment for her now.

"I am sorry that I hit you," You mutter, spitting out the pit of a cherry beside you. "You did cheer for the colonials to hang me though."

"And I am sorry about that," Ellie rolls the stem of a cherry between her fingers, more focused on it than any of her beautiful surroundings. She had seen every bit of scenery that there was to see, her favourite was seeing the dinosaurs, they were much more scary in person than they had been "At least you're an urban legend now."

"What's it matter to be an urban legend when you've already been a god?" You say "It just does not get more interesting than that."

"Yeah, watching you eat your own heart in front of terrified ancestors was pretty cool." Ellie flicks the cherry stem into the river, watching it get swallowed and pulled away by the currents "I'm glad you aren't still mad at me, if I were you I'd probably have a knife to my throat by now."

"I think I'm finally getting wise after two thousand three hundred four years," You joke, digging your teeth into the flesh of another cherry.

"What? You don't look a day over one thousand," She teases, a smile ever so slightly playing on her face.

"Thanks, I was worried."

"Don't be, you look great for your age."

She was joking, her tone light-hearted but something inside you breaks just a little more. You look at your hands, not a wrinkle or callous, no sign of the exciting and extremely terrifying life you had lived, just smooth young skin stretched over ancient bones.

You should've been nothing more than a skeleton buried beneath centuries-old rubble and flora by now. "Yup."

Ellie fiddled with her hands, trying to think of something else to say, she didn't want the conversation to be over just yet. She clung to every word you spoke like it was scripture and she was the most devoted follower. "What are you gonna do in Montana?"

"I think you know better than me," You answer, eyes focused on the water glittering in the blistering sunlight, beads of sweat resting on your brow. "Care to share?"

"Can't say."

"How come?"

She shrugs "I don't think you want to know."

"Well, how many times have I travelled with this bunch?"

"I've lost count," Ellie lies through her teeth, she knew every statistic, she had turned back time to the ancient cities 872 times to be with you. It slowly got easier to face you every time though it never replicated the love you had that first time, a high Ellie was forever chasing.

"Oh," You respond, leaning against the trunk of the cherry tree, sinking into yourself.

The silence stretches between you two. You had actually missed Ellie in the century that she disappeared completely; you found yourself waiting for her to show up around a corner and say something to annoy you.

After swallowing back another cherry in silence you open your mouth to speak "Ellie, whatever I meant to you, whoever I was, I need you to know that I'm not that girl-

"I know-

"I don't think you do," You say, discarding the stem of the cherry beside you "I need you to forget about any life we had together, at least until you get bored of this one."

"I don't get bored of it, I could never get bored of you," She answers.

"Then why start all the way from the beginning over and over again?" You ask "Just to watch me beg for death?"

Ellie shakes her head "I just can't let go of you." She listens to herself "I guess you're right, I'm holding onto someone who doesn't exist anymore." You watch the realization strike Ellie, with each rapid blink her eyes get more and more watery "I'm sorry, I know it's selfish."

"It is," You answer, feeling no urge to coddle "I'm not her, I know that you loved me but I don't remember what you used to be to me. I'm sure I loved you a lot, but I doubt that I do every single time."

Ellie nodded, using the heel of her palm to wipe at the tears that threatened to spill "Okay," Her voice hardly above a whisper "Just see this life through and I promise I'll fix everything, you live a good life, I promise." You stare at her blankly for a moment before nodding. She must know what waits for you in the future, something sweet perhaps, like sugar resting on the tip of your tongue. "I'll always hold you close but I'm learning you let you go."

"I appreciate it," You say, the ghost of a melancholy smile on your face.

The heat of the day finally disappears into the coolness of night and with that, Ellie disappears too, likely to be seen in another year.

The night was draped in the thick, velvety darkness that you only got in the west, where the only illumination came from the crackling flames of a campfire. Around it sat your sorry crew of companions, their weary faces highlighted by the flickering light, casting shadows that danced across the rugged landscape. They had ridden hard all day, herding cattle across vast plains and navigating treacherous terrain, but now, as they rested under the vast expanse of the starry sky, they sought solace in camaraderie and laughter.

"Y'all hear the one about the preacher who walked into a saloon?" Tommy began, his voice gravelly from years of dust and tobacco. Several others in the group had already called it a night, resting their heads beneath the stars that hung in the ink black sky.

The others leaned in, eager for the punchline.

"He says, 'I'm lookin' for the man who's been sleeping with my wife!' And a fella at the bar stands up and says, 'You'll have to narrow it down, preacher!'" The group erupts into bellowing laughter at his words and you can't help but smile at the pure joy written on these gruff men's faces.

"Alright, alright, I got one more for ya," Wyatt announced, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. He was an unnerving man from the looks of it, tall and intimidating but after the first day you had spent with him, he treated you like a baby sister, ready to go to war for you at the drop of a hat. The others perked up, their interest piqued by the promise of one last ribald tale."So there's this rancher," the cowboy began, "and he's got himself a problem with his bull. See, this here bull is getting up there in years, and he just ain't performin' like he used to."

A ripple of knowing laughter spread through the group, anticipation building for the punchline. Joel sat beside you, he had no interest in the jokes nor did he find them funny, all he got from it was a small detox from his life of overworking himself into exhaustion.

"Now, this rancher, he's heard all kinds of remedies for puttin' a little pep back in a bull's step," the cowboy continued. "But none of 'em seem to do the trick. So he finally decides to consult the local veterinarian."

The rest leaned in, hanging on every word.

"The vet takes one look at the old bull and says, 'I got just the thing for him. There's this new experimental treatment I've been workin' on. It involves a little bit of whiskey.'"

The campfire erupted with uproarious laughter, the group hooting and hollering at the unexpected twist, it ws far from the funniest joke you had ever heard, still, you laugh. Some slapped their thighs, others doubled over with mirth, and a few wiped tears of amusement from their eyes.

"And you know what?" the cowboy concluded with a grin. "After that little glass bottle was emptied, that ol' bull was buckin' like a bronco."

As the laughter at last subsided, the fire crackled softly as men began to say their goodnights and lull for the night. They sat in comfortable silence, their thoughts drifting to the vast expanse of the frontier and the challenges that awaited them come dawn and dreams of the promised land of Montana.

"Y'know, fellas- and madams," Wyatt addresses you and Maria, "We've been tellin' jokes and carryin' on like a pack of fools, but there's somethin' to be said 'bout the bonds we share out here on the range," he began, his husky voice tinged with sincerity.

The others nodded, aside from Joel who was studying the fire in front of him, tuned out from the conversation.

"I reckon there ain't nothin' quite like the brotherhood of the trail," he continued. "We ride together, we work together, and when the chips are down, we stand together. Through thick and thin, come hell or high water, we got each other until death takes us all." Wyatt takes another swig of his moonshine "We may come from different walks of life, but out here, under these stars, we're all just cowboys," the cowboy mused. "And there ain't no bond stronger than that."

"That ain't true," Issac poked up "I know that not one of us will see each other once we get to Montana, we're all goin' our separate ways."

"Don't mean there's no bond," You peep up.

"How's that?"

You shrug "Your heart is just too young to realize."

The group stops for a moment before erupting into ragged laughter, Tommy almost has tears in his eyes at the fact that you had called the man seemingly 15 years older than you young "Kid, you're too young to realize how bad life gets."

"Sounds about right."

Cape Cod, America - May - 1937

To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels.

In the hazed ambiance of the club, the air reverberated with the lively tunes of Duke Ellington, and the floor pulsed with the infectious rhythm of swing. Amidst the whirl of dancers, there you were, dancing so exuberantly that others backed away in fear of you swinging on them; though that was the nature of swing dancing, almost a fight to keep your nose unbroken.

But even the most seasoned dancers could only keep up for so long. As the night wore on and the music continued to play, you found yourself in need of a moment's reprieve. With a smile still lingering on your lips, you tapped your partner, Richard's shoulder, signalling your desire to take a break. You hadn't known him well by any means but he was a good dancer.

Leaning against the cool plaster of the club's wall, you breathed deeply, chest rising and falling in time with the music. You closed her eyes, savouring the lingering sensations of the dance. Little did you know, your moment of respite was about to be interrupted in the most unexpected yet delightful manner.

A voice, smooth and warm, broke through the cacophony of sound around you. "Mind if I join you?" the voice asked, accompanied by a gentle tap on your shoulder. Opening your eyes, you found yourself face to face with a strikingly handsome man, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. His black hair parted to the side and slicked over as well as his dark eyes soft as snow added to his undeniable charm.

A bemused smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, welcoming the interruption. "Not at all," you replied, voice carrying a hint of amusement.

With a casual elegance, the man leaned against the wall beside you, his gaze drifting out across the dance floor. "You're quite the dancer," he remarked, his tone tinged with admiration. He was wearing a white button-up tucked into pinstripe trousers being held up by black suspenders.

"Thank you. I've had a good bit of practice." You smile softly "Your name is?"

"Jesse," He answered "Care to tell me who I'm talking to?"

"Midge," you lie, it was the name you had picked up for your residence in Cape Cod.

"Midge," he repeats smiling as the name rolls off his tongue "You might just have the prettiest smile in Cape Cod."

You can't help but grin "And I thought I had already met all of the gentlemen around these parts."

"Must've been wrong," He said with his crooked smile. Then, after a moment's pause, he extended a courteous offer. "Can I buy you a Coke? It's the least I can do for such a captivating dancer."

You couldn't help but be charmed by his sincerity and manners. With a twinkle in your eye, you nodded in agreement. "I would like that very much."

Your conversation flowed effortlessly as you sipped on your cokes, exchanging stories and sharing laughter amidst the ringing of the club and chatter of individuals all around. With each passing moment, the two of you scrambled for things to talk about, desperate to keep the spark of conversation alive. You had just prayed that you could pull yourself away from his magnetic charisma.

As the night wore on, the music gradually began to fade, signalling the end of another unforgettable evening. Reluctantly, you rose from your seat, a sense of disappointment tugging at your heart while you watched Jesse lean back in his chair studying you like a textbook.

"Well, it looks like the night's coming to an end," you remarked, a wistful smile gracing your lips.

Jesse nodded, his expression mirroring her sentiment. "Indeed it has," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of hopefulness. "But perhaps it's just the beginning of something new?"

"Perhaps," You agreed, gaze lingering on his handsome face.

That was when you had broken the only rule you created for yourself 'Don't fall in love'. One year later you were so head over heels for Jesse that you were getting married. Dressed in your floor-length wedding dress, hair carefully curated after spending hours trying to perfect it.

You hadn't any family to fill up your side of the aisle, so instead you had asked your friends from work and the jazz club to take their places. After telling Jesse you were orphaned, he didn't bat an eye at this. You had frantically searched for someone to fill the shoes of your father who walked the earth centuries prior on the shores of Greece, it was a relief when Jesse's father stepped up.

Walking down the aisle of the church, arms hooked with Jesse's father you see him then, standing at the end waiting for you and he looks like the rest of your life. "You clean up nice," You mutter to Jesse quietly to be sure no one else can hear your little remark.

"I try my best," He smiles, hands in front of him as he waits patiently for the pastor to speak up. He looks handsome as the day you met as you look remarkably the same, not a new scratch or wrinkle upon a single inch of your skin.

As you exchanged vows, the both of you unable to fight the wild smiles on your faces, the world seemed to stand still, as if holding its breath in anticipation. With each word spoken, you pledged your love and devotion to one another, promising to stand by each other's side through all the joys and challenges that life would bring and you meant every word.

The reception was nothing short of perfect in your eyes. Everyone gathered at Jesse's parents' home, flowing in and out as they pleased. You however preferred the outdoors aspect of it, where people chatted happily with a glass of champagne in hand.

"Congratulations," Ellie says "Little bummed that I didn't get an invite," There's an odd sense of bitterness in her voice. She's wearing a blue tulle dress at tea length, blending in perfectly around the other guests, long white gloves to cover the tattoo on her forearm, and she even had her shoulder-length hair pin-curled.

"I figured you would be coming around either way."

"You know me too well," She takes the champagne flute out of your hand and swallows it back.

"You're actually the one who knows me too well."

She nods, faces expressionless while she looks around at the scenery of the yard. "Good luck."

"I'm sorry?" You furrow your eyebrows trying to seek out some tell on Ellie's face that would give you any indicator of what's racing through her head. Still, she's unreadable.

"With your marriage."

"Okay?"

"What's the plan here anyways?" She asks picking up someone's glass of wine the second they place it down on the garden table and turn their head away. "In thirty years, you're still married to Jesse, he's sixty getting wrinkly and you're still young and beautiful?"

As Ellie goes to drink the wine you take it out of her hands, putting it back on the garden table. You think of something to say to her, anything, but the words die in your throat, shrivelling up, never to be said.

"I will say that you becoming a history teacher is very funny."

"Did you just come here to sulk?" You ask.

She shakes her head slightly "I've come here to celebrate your union," Ellie glances around the yard once more.

"Then celebrate," you throw your hands out "I don't see you doing anything other than slinking around."

"Honey, who's this?" Jesse strolls up beside you, putting one hand on the small of your back. He smiles brightly as he looks at Ellie, he has known all of your friends which wasn't a bountiful number to begin with, just other teachers you worked with and some people you danced with.

"Oh!" You force a smile onto your face "This is my old friend from New Orleans, we really have some catching up to do."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Jesse," He holds out his hand.

"Ellie," She says shaking it.

"When did you become friends?" He asks "Midge hasn't told me a whole lot about her school days."

Ellie looks at you, she doesn't say anything but you get the message being conveyed. 'What the hell are you doing?' she shifts her eyes to look at the groom "God this one was just wild, keep an eye on her," Ellie forces a fake laugh.

"Really?" He has that goofy lopsided smile painted on his face as he looks at you.

"Yup," Ellie says "So, when are you planning on having kids?"

"Oh," Jesse chuckles, somewhat nervously "We haven't discussed that much."

"It seems like something you should talk about before getting married-

"Thank you," You cut her off "Ellie," You couldn't stand the idea of outliving your child let alone your husband, though it was already an inevitable fate.

"Of course," She's wearing a smile that is bordering somewhere between penitence and condescension, Ellie's looking at you like you're in the gutter.

"Looks like rain," Ellie glances up at the increasingly greying sky before walking inside the cover of the house. "Bad idea," She whispered in your ear as she brushed past. In mere moments after she enters the house thunder cracks and rain dumps from the sky, heavy and harsh, beating against your skin.

Everyone rushes inside, covering their heads as rain showers and soaks them. You and Jesse are frozen, you watch Ellie's figure retreat into the group of people clamouring into the house while Jesse's eyes are trained on you, he can't hold back a laugh.

"Oh no," Jesse's eyebrows furrow as he takes one of your hands in his own and puts the other on the back of your head, staring at your face, makeup running from the rain, hair weighed down by fat droplets dribbling off your collarbone "You spent so long on your hair, what are you gonna do?"

You shake off Ellie's words, cryptic as usual. Your attention snaps back to Jesse once you can no longer see her. The gentleness of his touch, that is his beauty "I'm not sure but I've got half a mind to kiss you," You giggle.

"Yeah?" He takes a step forward "I like that half," Jesse plants a gentle kiss on your lips "The other half is great too."

"You're so odd."

-

It was a quiet Saturday evening in the summer of 1943, the echo of a fuzzy-sounding record player scraping a vinyl filled the room, enveloping you in a certain tenderness.

Jesse, in his crisp white shirt and neatly pressed trousers, held you close, his hand resting gently on the small of your back as they moved together in perfect harmony. Your hair cascaded softly around your face as you rested your head against Jesse's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching the cadence of the music.

As you danced, the cares of the outside world didn't seem to exist, leaving only the intimate space you shared. The faint scent of your flowery perfume drowned out concerns. In the dim light, your shadows danced on the walls. Jesse had never been the better dancer between you though he was particularly tense on this night, his eyebrows were stuck furrowed like every thought running through his head was a worry.

The final notes of the song faded into the stillness of the night, Jesse hesitated, his embrace tightening around you as if reluctant to let you go. Sensing his unease, you looked up at him, concern etched in her features.

His unease wasn't difficult to sense, you pry yourself away from him to take him in completely. "Jesse, what's wrong?" You asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Jesse took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew he had to say. He held you at arm's length, his eyes searching over your features. "I've been drafted. I received my notice this morning." His voice trembled just the slightest as he took a shaky breath.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching in her throat and you thought that this must be what death feels like. For a moment, the world seemed to spin out of control as the weight of Jesse's words sank in. Six years with Jesse was not enough, you needed an eternity.

"We can find a doctor to exempt you-

"You know that's not right," He spoke so softly and you knew he was speaking the truth. You could never convince Jesse to do something as heinous as faking some disease or injury to get him out of the war.

"I know," You say and he steadies himself, staring deep into your eyes and through your soul "My whole life, all I've ever known is loss and I have never cared about anything the way I care about you-

He pulls you forward into his arms, rubbing that familiar calloused hand on the small of your back to soothe you "It's all gonna be alright, love, I'll be back before you know it and then it's smooth sailing for the rest of our lives."

You copied the crook of his neck, the warmth of his arms, the curve of his nose to memory. You caught all that you could before it slipped through the empty gaps of your mind. You hadn't realized that he had been doing the same, memorizing the smell of your perfume, the texture of your hair, the way your eyes caught the light.

He told you to look to the future when he finally walked back through that door and you could dance again but the only thing you could see was the end of the world, starting with you saying goodbye to him.

July 12, 1943

My Dearest Love,

I hope this letter finds you well and in high spirits. It's been quite some time since I last wrote to you, and I apologize for the delay. The days here in Europe seem to blend into one another, filled with moments of both intense action and serene contemplation.

As I write this letter, I find myself missing you more and more. You are what keeps me going through these harrowing and relentless days

Please know that you are always in my heart, my love. No matter where I may be, you remain my constant source of hope and inspiration. I dream of the day when this war is finally over, and we can be reunited once more, never to be parted again.

Until then, stay strong, my love. Know that I am fighting for you, for us, and for a better tomorrow. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers, as I do for you each and every day.

With all my love,

Jesse

December 18, 1943

My Dearest Love,

As Christmas draws near, my thoughts turn to you more than ever. I find myself reminiscing about the holidays we've shared together, specifically the weekend we spent at the cabin. How I long to be by your side once more, to hold you close and celebrate the season of peace and goodwill together.

But even amidst the turmoil of war, I see you in every good thing. Here in the trenches, my comrades and I have found solace in each other's company, we are united in our common humanity and our dreams for a home cooked meal.

I am reminded, now more than ever, of the importance of compassion in times of strife. It is love that sustains us, that gives us the strength to endure even the darkest of days. And though we may be separated by miles and oceans, our love remains as strong as ever.

As I write this letter, surrounded by the sounds of gunfire and the cries of my fellow soldiers, I find comfort in the knowledge that you are thinking of me, just as I am thinking of you. Your love is my guiding light,

This Christmas, as you gather with our loved ones know that you are in my thoughts and prayers. Though we may be apart in body, our spirits are forever intertwined, bound together by the enduring power of love.

Wishing you a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. May the coming year bring us closer to ending this war.

With all my love,

Jesse

March 19, 1944

My Dearest Love,

The world is now brighter than the sun because you're here, that is why I will remain giving you everything that I have.

I have been looking at the moon over and over again and wondered if you stare at it the same time as I do, please say yes. I think the battlefields are turning me into a poet, I would love some critique from a wordsmith such as yourself.

Everything here is frightening (redacted)

In light of the events I've just shared, I am looking forward more than ever to waking up and saying good morning to the sleepy woman lying next to me, that's you if you were curious. Here's to the future!

With all my love,

Jesse

August 8, 1944

My Dearest Love,

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you today, for the horrors of war have taken their toll on both body and soul. The past few months have been filled with unimaginable hardship as (Redacted)

The knowledge that our sacrifices are not in vain, that we are fighting for a better future for generations yet unborn keeps these weary bones standing straight.

But oh, how I long for the comforts of home, for the warmth of your embrace and the gentle touch of your hand. In the midst of so much death and destruction, it is your love that reminds me of all the beauty that still remains in the world.

I fear that I may never see you again, my love, that this cruel war may rob us of the future we had planned together. And yet I'm not ready to give up. For as long as I draw breath, I will continue to fight for a world where love triumphs over hate, where you and I can go back to life as it was.

All of the living are dead and I have noticed an oncoming silence.

With all my love,

Jesse

May 7, 1945

My Dearest Love,

I can scarcely believe it – the war is finally over, and victory belongs to the Allies!

We won! Or we think we did, a true win would likely have less bloodshed.

But amidst the celebrations and rejoicing, my thoughts turn to you. How unmanly to cry though I find myself doing so as I write this. The thought of being reunited with you fills my heart back up despite those who have emptied it, for you are my everything, my reason for living.

I cannot wait to return home to you, my love, to begin our lives anew in a world free from the shadow of war. Until then, know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers and that my love for you knows no bounds.

It looks like I'm coming home soon! I'm looking forward to some dance lessons with my one and only.

With all my love,

Jesse

Though you weren't the only one occupying the seemingly empty house, you lived with ghosts. Every step you took they lurked behind you as permanent reminders of everyone you've ever let down; months stretched into years and you clung onto each word in Jesse's letter like it was doctrine. The moment you received that final letter from Jesse you ran out into the streets and hugged the very first person you saw.

"Ellie now isn't a great time to be here," You tell her as she stands behind you in your vanity while you reapply your lipstick "Jesse's home today," You can't help the smile that stretches across your face. After years of hearing from your husband in nothing more than ink over paper, you would see him again and not just in the pictures that you had hung around every corner of the house.

"I'm here to celebrate," She says though she doesn't seem enthusiastic in the slightest. She wears black cigarette pants and a short-sleeved blouse tucked into them. You, on the other hand, had pressed your hair flat only to do it up in pin-curls, wearing your finest dress and most expensive jewelry for your husband's return home.

"If you're going to water down today, you could at the very least pretend to be happy." You were so ecstatic that you didn't even mind that Ellie had chosen today to bum around your house. For once it wouldn't be empty with nothing but your hollowed cries.

"I am happy," She answers "Are you going to wait here for him?"

You shake your head while you put in earrings that Jesse had gifted you on your third anniversary "I'm going down to the train station so I can hug him the second he sets foot back in Cape Cod."

"Nice," She nods "Have you thought about what you're going to do if it doesn't go as planned?"

You furrow your eyebrows, putting the other earring down on the vanity so you can turn back and look at her. "What do you know?" Your smile dropped at her words. Ellie isn't as unreadable as usual, she has traces of guilt across her features and that makes you all the more concerned. "Ellie, what happens?"

Before she can even open her mouth, you hear a firm knock at the front door. "That," Ellie says, you push yourself up from the vanity so fast the chair tips over. You snatch the other earring off of the vanity and awkwardly force it into your piercing as you rush down the hallway as fast as you can in your heels, clickity clack over the floorboards, Ellie trailing slowly behind you.

Your heart was pounding so fast that it reverberated in your head like an echo bouncing off the walls of your mind. A click. A slow creak and you open the door. Sun floods into the room and your heart pinches at the sight of the officer, clad in military excellence with baubles and an olive green jacket.

"Who are you?" Your stomach drops at the sight of the stranger who stands in the place where your husband should be.

The man stared at you, a certain solemn yet controlled grief lurking in his pale eyes. "Ma'am, I am Sergeant Reynolds of the 45th Infantry regiment. Are you Mrs. Midge Maisel, wife of Jesse Chang?"

Your throat went dry. "Yes," You curled your fingers inward, feeling nails push into the soft palm of your hand until the skin broke and you pushed even harder.

You didn't know who helped you sit down when you couldn't move. You only remembered fuzzy voices and the pace of your heart becoming too fast for your body to handle. There was not enough air in the world for you to swallow. The world felt so far away, as did anyone who tried to comfort you or explain the circumstances of Jesse's death.

"After Germany was concurred, he intercepted a grenade ambush from stragglers, saving the lives of many in his platoon."

Everything had stopped spinning, leaving you nauseous where Ellie sat beside you her face smeared in your vision blurry from tears.

Accept our sympathies

Funeral arrangements

The return of personal effects

Bits and pieces of Reynolds's words jumped out at you but you couldn't hear them. Restless nights for centuries were instead what clouded your mind. Outside you could hear families and friends celebrating the return of their loved ones, while you ushered the man out of your door screaming at him to leave. Music played, a celebration you would not take part in but watch bitterly from afar while you plan out the next life you will live.

Ellie begins to speak when the eery silence becomes unbearable "I know you don't want to hear it but this was inevitable-

"Leave," You mutter, resentment simmering inside of you.

"What-

"Leave," You repeat "You knew this was going to happen and you didn't tell me? You didn't stop it?"

"I can't turn the world upside down just to make you happy-

"Then why are you here?" You ask, rage carved in deep despite the tears across your face "I thought you were in love with me and that's why you won't leave me alone."

Her words fail her. She stares at you blankly, trying to scrounge up an answer that would put you both to rest. "We have a good life-

"Ellie, this is not a good life, for you maybe because you don't have to watch me suffer since you can keep skipping to the parts where I'm happy again," You correct her words, fat teardrops streaming down your face while you try to compose yourself the same way that you would a song or a speech. "I'm going to tell you now so you have to get it into your head- We are not friends, I certainly don't love you, I don't even like you and if I ever see your fucking face again, I'm bashing it in."

Bethel, America- August - 1969

If we were vampires and death was a joke, we'd still go out on the sidewalk and smoke.

They wandered through the makeshift villages that sprung up amidst the chaos, where hippies and freaks shared food and shelter, and strangers became friends in the blink of an eye. Your hand was clasped tightly with Dina's while your pupils went wide under the influence.

She refused to let go and lose you in the crowd of sweaty bodies, despite your states you understood well that you would easily lose each other in the sea of people at the music festival and wouldn't cross paths again till night time. She was wearing a turquoise bell-sleeved top paired with a skirt of all sorts of funky patterns and had on at least six beaded necklaces. You'd think that she'd be hard to miss but in this crowd, she blended in perfectly, looking a little bit like everyone else as everyone seemed to bleed together.

You were already high out of your mind the world warping around you, everything moved in frames like an old film. The ground was morphing and breathing under your feet, you giggled with each step, following behind Dina to find the rest of the little group you had come to Woodstock with.

The two of you were nowhere close to the stage, you had only partially come for the music. To you, it seemed like another historic event to add to your list. While most people sit on the ground swaying to Janis Joplin, your small circle of friends was dancing; it was something like them loosely waving their bodies around.

"No one asks me for dances because I only know how to flail!" Dina shouts, laughing so hard that she leans on you for support. You laugh too, head resting on top of Dina's. Her words weren't funny at all but everything seemed funny when fractals hoovered around your eyes. You lifted your head just slightly to see that same freckled face that had haunted you for centuries.

"Ellie!" You shouted, letting go of Dina's hand and making your way towards her, eyes half-lidded and hazy. Dina lulled in place watching you run away from her.

Ellie looked frightened that you had stuck true to your promise of bashing her face in the next time you saw her but instead, you wrapped your arms around her tightly and began to sway gingerly. It was just the beating of hearts like two drums in the rain.

"I'm sorry," You mutter into the crook of her neck. "I missed you, you should visit more."

Hesitantly, Ellie hugged you back, folding her arms around your torso and letting herself sink into you. In the past 2380 you had never hugged Ellie, you hardly touched her. She closed her eyes letting delusion flood her brain, thinking back to the first time she had seen you and then seventy years later when she realized you were immortal and every other timeline she had lived with you.

"I missed you too," She muttered, trying to ignore the fact that you were only saying this because you were high.

You pull back away from her and take her in, all dazed. You give her a boop on the nose with your index and erupt in giggles while Ellie furrows her eyebrows. An idea strikes you and it's apparent on your face as you light up, eyebrows shooting up. "You should come to tell my friends about all of your time-travelling stories!"

Ellie starts to shake her head but you pull her away despite that. She trails behind you as you refuse to let go of her hand, dragging her back to the grassy patch where your friends danced, some of them taking a quick break flat on their backs. "This is Ellie, we've been friends for a long time."

The group acknowledges her, mainly with waves and giggles but Jimmy goes the extra mile, standing up and extending a lanky arm "It's good to meet you."

"This is my best friend in the world forever!" You sling an arm around Dina, calling for Ellie's attention. Dina leaned into your touch, a drowsy smile on her face. "Ellie can actually travel through time."

You tell the group and they all look toward her, eyes squinted and bodies relaxed. Ellie didn't mind, knowing that they were too high to believe her by the time they sobered up even if they did she could go back and fix it. She nods along "It's true and she's immortal." Ellie points at you.

"No, you're not," Dina pokes you.

"I believe it," Weston speaks up from his spot on the ground where he lies with Patricia, her ash blonde hair strewn across the grass "I have never seen this woman so who am I to not believe her." As opposed to the majority of the group whose pupils were dilated from LSD, the whites of his eyes had turned red from the herbs he smoked.

Stevie is still dancing, her loose white dress rustly so slightly in the gentle breeze. Dawn dances with her, her hair the colour of fire tied neatly into two twin braids, she doesn't care about anything besides the way her feet carry her.

"One time I cut out my own heart and I ate it," You giggle, head resting on Dina. Her face was sunkissed, accentuating her freckles. She had let her dark hair run loose.

Jimmy looks at you, through his sunglasses. He has Ellie sitting next to him, his ebony skin a contrast to her paleness. "How does that work?"

"I slice my skin open and then I break my ribs, rip out my heart and shove it in my mouth.

He looks you up and down "Ribs look fine to me."

"I can show you," You look around to find something to cut you open, and you see a large rock with some smaller ones stacked around it. You walk over, all eyes on you as you put your wrist on top of the larger rock.

In your free hand, you pick up a smaller jagged rock that fits into the claw of your hand. You raise the jagged stone up and smash it into your wrist with little effort after the strength you have gathered over the years.

Dina lets out a scream watching your arm bend out of shape, wrist twisted so your hand doesn't sit where it's supposed to. You bring the rock up and slam it down again, making sure to dig into your skin, flesh mangled up on your arm and you brought it up to show everyone. Jimmy scrambled to his feet in a panic, racing through the crowd to find a medic.

"No, it's healing!" You shout after Jimmy. Weston looks at your mangled arm with wide eyes before buckling onto his knees and throwing up. Dawn and Stevie pause their dancing, Dawn froze in fear and Stevie backed away. "Do you see?" You shake your arm trying to show them that the wound was fixing itself.

-

"I can show you," You look around to find something to cut you open, and then your eyes settle on Ellie who shakes her head at you. You knew this meant she had seen the outcome and it wasn't good so you decide to drop the topic, plopping yourself onto the grass.

"Don't you wanna dance?" Dina asks.

You shake your head. You had reserved dancing for Jesse who you knew you wouldn't see again, not even in death since it would never come for you.

The day had eventually faded away into night, the concert still rang loud but you stayed far in the back of the crowd, lying on the ground with Ellie and looking at the stars. "I'm really sorry for everything you've been through," Ellie breaks the pure hum of music.

"I'm really sorry for everything you've seen," You answer. "I thought the war would finally be over," You murmur, thinking back to Jesse and the idea you conjured up of his corpse; you imagined him to be blown into a million pieces, a thought that never left your mind no matter how high you got or what you drank you knew it wouldn't end. You had thought World War two to be the last until the Vietnam War plagued the news and began to pluck men from neighbourhoods all around.

"It doesn't end, not ever," Ellie tells you.

"You should fix it."

"I've tried," There's a hint of sadness in her voice "If one ends, a new one will always spring up."

The two of you fall silent for a moment, heads side to side but you don't look at one another, only the stars. There's something so calming yet unnerving about the inky black sky; it reminded you of the nothingness that consumed you on the night you had given up your mortality.

"I don't want to live," The words fall from your lips so effortlessly. The LSD was wearing off, leaving you to be in control of your thoughts and your body all over again.

"I know."

"I've seen more men die than I can count."

"I know."

"I can't seem to hate you though."

Ellie turns her head to look at you and you do the same. Her green eyes are shining beneath the moonlight, just the shadow of her face illuminated. You lean forward just the slightest and connect your lips into a kiss, Ellie seems surprised but she doesn't fight it.

Once you pull away, you can only seem to make out one sentence "Don't leave this time."

Greenport Village, America - April - 2011

A handshake of carbon monoxide, no alarms and no surprises.

As the late afternoon sun cast its golden hues over the rolling hills of the Greenport, you made your way home planning a quick visit to the beach before doing so, arms laden with bags filled with groceries from the quaint village market, arms laden with provisions that you had no need for, save to fill the endless hours of your existence.

You walked with your timeless beauty that seemed to shimmer like a mirage in the fading light, you had called the Greenport Village home for six years now, finding a position there as a history teacher, your favourite job of the hundreds you had worked. Though the passing decades had left their mark on the landscape and its inhabitants, you remained unchanged, frozen in time like a moth preserved in amber.

You still struggled to come to terms with the fact that death would never take you though Ellie tried to make it easier. All these years and it never felt any better, it was still difficult to swallow the truth.

There was no solace to be found in the quiet beauty of the world around you. For two thousand years, you had walked the earth with Ellie, you, a solitary figure doomed to wander the endless expanse of time and her, the shadow that trailed behind and mocked your existence without intending to. You had seen kingdoms rise and fall, witnessed the birth and death of countless generations, and yet you remained unchanged, untouched by the ravages of time. All of the identification you had forged didn't make you into who you said you were.

Walking towards the beach, you could've sworn that you recognized every face you saw but that was just how long you had lived; everyone you've ever known slowly bleeding into everyone else like a suicide cleanup. You would outlive the kids playing on the seesaw and the toddlers scrambling around them, you would outlive their offspring too and every other generation after that.

Eventually, you found yourself in your usual spot in the park, an old beaten bench outlooking the sea where sunlight danced off of it like sparks.

After the seventies, you had accepted that the land was your only friend, ever-changing just like you, yet it remained miraculously intact. You had Ellie, on occasion, though calling her a friend would be a loose term. You weren't sure what she was but butterflies and maggots had a field in your intestines every time you thought of all of the things she knew about you and how little you know of her.

The lack of trust always lingered. You never knew if she had gone back in time and forced you to forget about something she said or something you asked. How many times had you begged her to go back to the beginning and let you ebb away with old age?

As you sat in silent contemplation, lost in the labyrinth of your centuries-old thoughts, a frail figure approached, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. It was an old woman, her face etched with the lines of a life well-lived, her eyes twinkling with a spark of something you couldn't make out.

You shifted slightly on the bench, making room for her unexpected companion. The old woman, her steps slow and deliberate, lowered herself onto the seat beside you, exhaling a contented breath as she settled into place.

For a long moment, you sat in companionable silence, each lost in your own reverie. "You must be an old soul," The woman next to you speaks, covered in sunspots and wrinkles, grey and white streaks all through her black hair. "When you're old all you want to do is sit and stare at the scenery."

"Yeah," You give her a tight-lipped smile "I'm mature at heart."

The woman furrows her eyebrows for a moment, deep in thought as her brown eyes rake over every single one of your features, studying you like scripture. "I'm sorry," She shakes her head "You just look like a girl I used to know."

"Really?" You ask and then it strikes you like lightning. Despite the withering of her face, it's the same bump of her nose, the freckles across her skin, the curve of her jaw, it was your Dina.

She waves it off "She's long gone by now, haven't heard from her in years." Dina looks off to the ocean, the screech of kids is far off in the distance. Her face drops just the slightest at the mention of this.

"Who was she?" You press, just wanting to hear Dina's voice after decades of replaying memories and performing autopsies on expired conversations like you could somehow revive them and the people who came with.

"Oh, um," Dina hadn't expected you to carry on the conversation, people had stopped caring about what she had to say when time hit her and dragged her skin down. "A friend of mine, way back before you were born. If you could see her, gosh," Dina mutters, salt and pepper hair braided down her back "You could've been her twin."

Your heart was slamming against your ribcage like it wanted to be set free. "Uh, I'm sorry if this seems odd," You say with a shakey breath "But could you just keep talking? I don't want to have to think right now."

Her eyebrows knit together just the slightest, concern growing with your words "About what?"

"Just," You shrug "Reminisce maybe," Nearby there were birds on a wire chirping, it felt like every one of them was talking to you, beedy eyes prying into your veins "I just like stories."

Dina slips a small smile, her teeth not quite as white as they used to be but her smile holds all of the comforts nonetheless "My stories are no good, I'm sure you'll have better ones when you're my age."

You shake your head on impulse, grasping the pieces of her that you still held close to your ancient heart. "No, I don't think I'll get there," You aren't trying to ramble yet here you are, scrambling to reconnect the two of you like this is a film that ends well.

Her smile falters, trying to comprehend the odd woman beside her, beginning to contemplate that you're high on something, suspicion growing more solid with each shake of your hands and blink of your watery eyes. "Are you alright?" She lowers her voice.

"Yup," You nod, already feeling her slip through the space between your fingers all over again like she had years prior. At this point in your life, you should've been a better liar but you just sat there, tears rolling down silently while you forced your teeth to bear a smile. You wanted to tell her how nice it was to see her and remind her of all of the days and nights alike you had wasted on each other.

It was easy to see how she didn't believe you, from your trembling hands gripping your thighs in an attempt to steady them to the manufactured smile you wore on your face, sadness seeping from your pores. Unlike Dina, you felt that age had made you no wiser. Years you spent studying and chasing careers just to end up faking death and restarting all over again from scraps, losing a little piece of yourself every time.

She places one of her calloused and withered hands over yours where it grasps to the fabric over your thighs. She meets your gaze "Whatever it is, you'll be okay."

Something inside you shifts, then cracks, and crumbles completely. The agonizing pain accumulated by thousands of years spilled out of you in the form of tears as salty as the ocean spray that simmered on your skin. It was like every awful thing you had ever felt was going to burst through the gaps of your teeth.

There was entirely too much going on in your head when you inched forward and wrapped your arms around Dina, chin resting on her neck. It took a minute but you felt her bony hands rest on your back while she returned the gesture, albeit confused.

You were glad you got to see her again. Every time someone passes through your life you think of all of the things you would do to speak to them one more time. You had finally been given a blessing, something that balanced out the bitterness of eternity. "I'm sorry, Dina."

The second you spoke you regretted it. With what little grace you have left you manage to pry yourself up, sheepishly standing to your feet and trying not to wobble like a colt. Dina's bygone face held more confusion than ever, mouth slightly ajar as she watched you with wide eyes like a doe. "Honey, I think you have the wrong person."

Your feet move faster than your head, not leaving Dina behind a second time but a complete stranger. You had only been sick with nostolgia. Panic shot through your veins like box cutters trying to find their way to your heart, which they surely would.

Your day's shopping had been left behind at the bench along with all of the dreams you once etched into indigo skies and sandy shores, now all they did was rot at your feet, at least they had the pleasure of aging.

The feeling of screaming was creeping up your body in shivers, you hugged yourself all the way home, swivelling your head every minute to be sure that ghosts weren't following you but they always had a way of sneaking up on you.

What purpose did you serve? Anything mildly important you had ever done was lost to time, gone, forgotten. You didn't get the luxury of having children with the one you love, you didn't even have anyone to love. You drag your mud-covered heels all the way up the steps of your stoop slamming the door behind you.

With trembling hands and a mind consumed by anguish, you began to tear through her home with frenzied desperation, your movements fueled by a maelstrom of emotions too powerful to contain, the urge-no, the need to die. You ripped books from their shelves, their pages fluttering like wounded birds as they scattered across the floor in a flurry. You overturned furniture with reckless abandon, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass echoing through the empty rooms like a orchestra of destruction.

You open your cabinets, dragging your hands behind all of the ceramic and glass, pushing it to the ground and watching them shatter at your feet. What need did you have for a fridge full of food when you don't have to eat? Or a feathered bed when you don't need to sleep, you can't even bring yourself to sleep these days.

Each crash and thud seemed to reverberate through your empty, a haunting reminder of the pain and turmoil that threatened to consume her from within. Memories, once cherished and dear, now lay shattered and broken like all of the ambition you should have forgotten, fragments of an overwhelming life that had slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.

With a guttural cry of anguish, you sank to your knees amidst the wreckage, body racked with sobs that seemed to tear at your very core. You clutched at your hair in despair, her fingers intertwined in the tangled strands like thorns in a bed of roses.

Your eyes snagged on the cabinet below your sink. You crawl over to it, shards of shattered glassware sticks into the soft palms of your hands, porcelain china cutting up your knees. It didn't even feel like anything, you just wanted to feel something.

You pull the cabinet open pushing the other cleaning supplies aside and grabbing the ammonia and bleach. Twisting the caps of and discarding them among the wreckage, you take a deep breath before raisng the bottle of bleach to your lips and drinking, the harsh and ancrid taste making you cringe but you kept swallowing until you could feel a burning in your throat, taking a quick shallow breath and then doing the same with the ammonia, tears brimming your eyes and hitting the few beams of sunlight that struck through your closed curtains like the glimmer from the ocean.

God, it tasted rancid but for a moment, a brief one it had felt like death or something similar. Mouth feeling like plastic throat burnt to rubber you drank until both bottles were empty. You pressed yourself as flat as you could on the floor, soaking in the last moments of feeling as your insides contorted before stillness.

All of the cells you killed were fixing themselves up and after a minute, you felt numb like you tended to. You hiccup, body jerking upwards just the slightest, a spat of vomit now dribbling at you chin.

Deep inside of you, you knew Ellie would be back to fix your wreckage and leave you oblivious to the destruction you not only caused but craved. She would just keep going back until you help something on the spectrum of happy.

Define happy.

Smiling?

Joking?

Laughing?

Not digging through the dictionary to find new ways to try to kill yourself?

That last one sounds right.

"Ellie, I can't do this anymore!" You screeched hoarsely to the empty room, despite the freckled girl being nowhere in sight. "Can you please let me die now!"

You call for her until your throat is as dry as sandpaper, hollow words scraping themselves dry before they can leave your mouth. Your voice is reduced to a pathetic rasp and you pray that she regrets stealing blood from your veins.

"Please!" You scream, fingers gripping onto the marble counter to haul yourself up. You stumble for a moment as you adjust to the jagged shards you stand on. "I know we've done this before but you'll just lie and make me sound like I'm fucking crazy," A sob falls from your mouth like a howl.

You pull a long kitchen knife from the knife block, and watch the silver blade glimmer, a warped reflection of yourself staring back at you. With little hesitation, you plummet it into your stomach, again and again until your midriff is a mangled fleshy mess. Blood pooling out of you like cherry wine. Nothing new.

"Asshole!" You cry out "I know you're hiding around here somewhere!" Your mind immediately went to how many times this situation had played out, on this same day. Maybe you had done something worse.

Lungs burning from screaming, cries throbbing inside of your throat, you have one last idea that had to have happened before. "Can you please stop?"

You turn to face the voice, hair matted, clothes torn and bloody, vomit from makeshift mustard gas sliding down your chin to your neck. You drop the knife, it clatters against the tiles "No," You approach her, each step more certain than the last. "You need to stop, this isn't right."

"I know," She says, face stone-cold a hint of irritation in her tone. She's back in her grey hoodie and jeans, finally, she fits into the time period.

"If you know then why have I been pleading with you to go back to the start and stop me from dying in the first place and making that deal?" You're inches away from her, voice carrying challenge if not bitterness. "Like I've asked you over and over again." Your voice is unsteady like it's being crushed beneath the weight of the world.

"Because I love you," She says, raising one hand to cup your face.

If it were for the chemicals flattering through the air making you nauseous, this act alone almost brought you to your knees with sickness. You don't bother to move her hand though, just shuddering under the touch. "Do you really?"

She nods, gaze softening "Yes."

"Then you'll go back and you'll fix all of this right?"

Her hand falls from its resting spot on your face. "You want to forget?"

"No, I want to die." Silence falls between you. Each rise and fall of your chest shaky and ragged "You keep forgetting that I'm a person, I'm not a concept you've curated in your head." It was hard to find yourself being gentle to her. It was hard to feel bad for her in general with how she treated your entire being as something for her to tune in and out of as she pleased.

Ellie takes a breath in, eyes unwavering from yours "Okay."

"Okay?" You don't believe her "You'll fix this and you'll leave me alone and let me live a regular life without knowing you?" You breathe the moment in, the hopes that this will be over soon. The taste of heartache and war could be washed away from your mouth, you wouldn't meet Joel and watch his daughter die in front of him or meet Jesse and fall in love. The humiliation to be made of rotting flesh then it hits you- how many times have you had this conversation? "I want you to promise-

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

I prayed for your breath right here in the shallows.

Rain splashes against the skin of your face in lands of ancient Greece, where the winds themselves whispered stories of gods and heroes, neither of which you were. You were nothing more than a frightened woman running away from an unforgiving husband in the dead of night where your quickened heartbeat falls in rhythm to the ocean which is almost as angry as the storm that roars above.

Carefully you dodge the jagged rocks sticking out from the sand, you had memorized each and every one after days of burning your skin on the shores. Water surged against the rocks near your feet, white froth sizzling in the waves retreating like it was trying to drag you in and take you for its own.

Your heavy breathing was devoured by the heavy rain and cracks of lighting, the sounds of thunder so deep it was like Zeus himself was stomping in the clouds. Despite the night being dark you trusted the moonlight that glimmered off of the ocean to guide you. You have nothing more than the soaking wet clothes on your back, jewelry to sell, and the drachmas you had stolen from your husband tucked away safely in a wool tagari purse.

This time around, Ellie doesn't intervene. She watched you, panic-stricken, fumble over wet sand and glide past slick rocks. Trying to outrun your fears of wasting your life.

As you reached the edge of a rocky outcrop, your leather sandal caught on a slick stone, sending you tumbling to the ground. With a sickening thud, your head struck against the unforgiving rock, and the world around you spun into darkness.

You were dead. Body limp on the plethora of rocks, the tide slowly lulling over your body until Ellie kneeled down next to your body and gingerly guided it into the ocean for it to take. The blood from the wound in the back of your head is sucked away into the sand. She watched your corpse drift out and get pulled down, all she needed was another lifetime with you. You didn't know how miserable you were with her anyway. 

This is not a story about love.

A/N: guys I’m breaking hiatus to post this bc I realised it’s been hanging in my drafts for a century (century haha) Anyways I actually hate this but it felt too long to scrap so thanks for reading.

Perm tag list: @ellslvr @gold-dustwomxn @bready101 @whenlostinthedarkness @veeveeisgay @vqxen

#ellie williams #tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #the last of us ellie #jesse tlou #dina tlou #dina woodward #ellie williams au #tlou ellie #joel miller #tommy miller #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader fluff #angst #tlou part 2 #abby tlou #tlou2 #joel and ellie #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #alternate universe #ellie x y/n #ellie x you

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : Bucky is sick and tired of you coming to him in tears every time your boyfriend hurts you. His anger has gotten to him so worked up that he wants, No, he needs to prove that all you need is him and him alone.

『Word count』 : 3.0k

Paring: Bestfriend!Bucky x Female!Reader

[Warnings] : Rough loving desperate sex. Reader slips into a kind of subspace. Bucky is very angry about your ex. Bucky is very in love with the reader. Soft fluffiness. Lots of tears. Pet names, swearing, fingering, Bucky is a teasing shithead. Reader has stretch marks cause they are beautiful. Thick thighs, Oral (reader receiving) Big Dick energy. confessions, love making. Use of the words whore and slut (not directed to the reader).

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You didn’t understand what was wrong with you… Were you not good enough? Did you fail to provide? Why was the supposed love of your life grinding on an unknown woman with his tongue down her throat and his hand up her skirt in the corner of the loud screaming club. But this time, the music was not audible… The sounds of people were only formed to that of a whisper. 

Did he plan for you to see this disgusting display? Did he want to make sure you felt the most unbearable pain imaginable? Tears threaten to pour down your dry cheeks. Your once full heart, shattering into pieces that would never be able to be glued back together. Turning to quickly making your exit of the club, grabbing your phone, you only know one person to call.

“Hey Buck…”

-

“So I decided to leave, I couldn’t even gain one piece of confidence to go up to him.” You sob into Bucky's arms, holding his sides as if you were about to fall down the dark rabbit hole that is forming beneath your feet.

“Shh it’s okay, let it out.” He spoke softly with a loving tone, squeezing you tightly. But beneath that tone was waves of anger, wanting nothing more but to kill the man who broke your heart.

“I’m so tired, Buck. I can’t take this, He would never touch me like that, Never love me like that. He said he was not ready. But yet he fucksba whore out in an open bar… What’s wrong with me.”  He pulls you from his arms taking your face in both hands to look at you dead in the eyes.

“Hey, Hey, do not say that. There is nothing wrong with you. You are the most stunning, kind, and beautiful woman I know. You are always putting yourself second and making sure everyone is satisfied before you are. But you deserve to be satisfied too.” He smiles weakly before moving inches away from your faces. your lips daring to touch each other.

“You deserve the world.” He whispers. The touch of his warm breath creeps its way on your lip. Like an intoxicating mist, you draw yourself closer, kissing him, which he gladly returns. 

“Show me....” He spoke between sloppy kisses, bring his metal hand down to your waist while the other stands on your cheek. “...Where he wouldn’t touch you,” He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Kissing your jaw to your neck.

“Tell me what he was too much of a coward to say.” He falls onto the bed, letting you hit the covers gently, him towering over you.

“Show me where you saw his hands on that slut in the bar.” He growls anger firing him up, attacking your neck as you let out whimpers every time his tongue grazes your hot skin.

“Tell me how to make your pain go away.” He lifts yours and his shirts off, kissing every surface of your body, making sure to mark every part of you.

“Even if you want to scream his name. I’ll fuck away your pain.”

-

And he kept his promise. As his hands graze and squeeze every part of your flesh, he could get to. His lips latched on your neck, leaving dark marks in its wake. If he was going to fuck away your pain, he was going to make sure that scum bag of an ex will see the aftermath. So here he is, marking your soft skin, from your jaw to your chest.

"Look at you, so pretty and ready, just for me." His words are dirty, filled with lust. He has loved you for so long, and his heart ached whenever you would come crying about your ex. He knew he was your comfort, someone to rant to. Someone to hold you when your tears taint your beauty. He was angry and frustrated with not only your ex but the situation. He was going to make you his. And he was going to make sure you knew it.

"B-Bucky..." You whimpered, feeling his hand travel from your hips to your inner thigh. He watched you wiggle as he pinched your soft flesh, just under where you needed him. He was teasing you, making you lose your mind. Just barely touching you where you needed it most. His sinister laughter echoed in the room as his lips found your thigh, making you gasp. His teeth graze along the hot flesh, making marks along the plump skin. Your fingers laced in the sheets, tugging on the velvet fabric, and your whimpers got louder, making him want to take extra time to tease and rile you up. But a sudden sniffle got his attention, making him sit straight up to see tears prickling down your cheeks. He stopped his teasing and moved back up to your face.

"Darling... Why are you crying?" It was like his anger melted away, leaving worry in its wake. His hand cupped your face, rubbing his thumb along your cheek so he could wipe away your tears. You just sniffled, feeling dizzy and almost confused. Your eyes were glazed, pupils blown out. He suddenly felt stupid, guilt invading his emotions. He was blinded that he near forgot you just went through a heartbreak ―to a complete asshole― but a heartbreak nonetheless.

"Hey baby, hey It's okay... I'm sorry. Look at me, Darling." He held your chin, getting you to look at him in his dark eyes. He was breathing heavily, trying to calm himself down. He clicked his tongue, feeling an ache in his own heart.

"Buck...I-I-..." You couldn't speak. Instead, you retched out to snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Just... Kiss me... Please." He didn't waste a second after your words. Locking his lips to his perfectly. It was slow and sensual, unlike the rough and anger-filled interaction prior. His lips never left your lips as his hand finally touched where you needed him most. He might have been soft on you now, but as he thought back. It was like all the pieces were coming together. Mostly, every ex seemed to use you in some way. Maybe it was your kind heart that was too good for this world. Maybe it was your shyness that stopped you from ever complaining about the terrible company you had. Ex, friends, family. They were all the same in your life. And Bucky couldn't help but feel angry in your place. How could you allow someone as disgusting as your ex-boyfriend take advantage of you so easily? How could you allow him to go and mock your kind heart? You were too good for any of your exes. Too good for this world. And sometimes he thought you were too good for him.

"Fuck!" You muttered in the kiss, breaking away to gasp out as his fingers rub slow circles on your covered clit. Your body was surging with an electric feeling. A feeling you've never experienced with any of your prior partners. You were close, and Bucky knew that too, but he didn't want you to just let go without having something inside you. So he stopped. You pouted, eyes flicked open with a whine following. Buck just pecked you before sitting up saying sorry once more.

"Can I remove these?" He asks with the sweetest tone he could conjure, pulling at the band of your panties and sleep shorts. You gulped with wide eyes, nodding almost ridiculously. He smiled slightly, shaking his head.

"I need you to say it for me, baby. Can I remove your sleep shorts?" His fingers tangle in the fabric, drawing his face closer, "May I remove your pretty panties, Angel." He snaps the string of your black panties, making you gasp at the light sting. You feel so flustered, shyness taking over. His dirty words made you tingle and wiggle under his gaze.

"You make it sound so dirty." You groan bucking your hips upwards towards his. He had to hold back a moan his cock twitching in his tight pants, letting out a shaky sigh, he sits up to rest himself on his knees. Your legs hanging on either side of his waist. He tilts his head looking at you up and down.

"It sounds dirty, 'cause it is dirty, Darling." He had to laugh at your blushed expression, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. "Now, can I please take them off? Or must I use force?" He raises an eyebrow, growing pleased at your wide eyes. You finally reply with 'yes, please,' making him peck you on the lips lightly, dragging the soft fabric until it falls onto the floor with a quiet thud.

He stood up to take his own attire off, making sure to catch your body in full. It's like an art piece just for him. Your plump thighs look as if they were inviting him to grab a hand full of the soft flesh. The way you squeezed them together in a poor attempt to hide yourself made him feel a throb between his legs. It was almost painful to watch you, so unaware that you were fulfilling all his kinks and fantasies. All he has ever wanted was you.

He had to strip quickly unable to hold himself any longer but mostly because he was a heartbeat away from falling onto his knees, crawling to you and begging you to let him have all of you over and over again. and as his heart skipped that beat he craved, falling to his knees in awe onto the soft velvet of the sheet. He gripped your knees, gliding his fingers over your skin. Your stretch marks glistened in the light of the side lamps. They were like translucent battle scars to show how powerful and beautiful you are. He couldn't help but imagine kissing each and every one of them. But that was for another time. Right now, he needed to taste you.

"Relax, baby, I'm going to take good care of you. Do you trust me?" His nose brushes against your tummy, kissing your navel. You nodded over and over again, most likely looking like a silly bobblehead, but you didn't care in the slightest.

"Yes. I trust you with my life. Please, please, Buck.." You whimper, begging for him to do anything to ease the ache below, knuckles turning white from clutching the bed sheets. Your expression made Bucky weak;

"Fuck Darling, You're gonna be the death of me."

Bucky's tongue flattened as it glided up your heat, drawing a loud gasp to a high-pitched moan from you. His tongue seemed to lap in your juices even harder now from your sweet noises. He lost, indulging himself in your scent, in your taste. The grip of your thighs around his head tightened the harsher he became. He's watching your faces contort in pleasure. From his angle, you looked like a goddess, gifting him access to your body. He suppressed the anger that brewed in his gut, choosing to focus on the pleasure pouring from you.

"I-... James" You wiggled, feeling yourself all quickly slip into a haze. Your hand raked through your hair, not knowing where to put them. Buck took notice, knowing you were close. So he lent up slightly, giving you a cheeky smile before saying;

"Might wanna hold on, Doll." He chuckles, snaking his own hand towards your restless ones before bringing them to his hair. You gulped at his boldness, fingers now laced in his soft hair, tugging harshly. And as if your already choked sobs weren't enough, Bucky pressed the tip of his metal thumb to your clit, rubbing in a speed you so desperately craved for. His other fingers found place inside you, two sliding in and out so effortlessly from all the slick Bucky managed to create.

His humming against your head along with his tongue and fingers drew you to a complete drop, gasping for air as it escaped your lungs. A strange sensation erupted, feeling a heavy amount of liquid leave you. You sat up straight, pushing yourself up the bed, almost as if you needed to compose yourself away from Bucky's grasp. But what your eyes are greeted with left you blushing a new shade of red.

"B-Buck... I... I didn't mean to—Holy Shit." He cut your worries off before they could leave your lips. You didn't mean to squirt all over his face and tongue, and normal any guy you've been with would have found it disturbing but Bucky couldn't help but groan as he licked his lips and fingers of your sweet juices.

"That was the fucking hottest thing ever." He growled, grabbing your ankles to pull you towards him. You had to giggle at his desperate expression which in toe—made him giggle with you—.

"God, you are so beautiful. so perfect. Screw your ex and every other guy that did you wrong. They are missing out." His words made you cry, covering your face with your arm. You smiled through your tears, not cause you were hiding the sadness―well maybe a little―but it was because out of all the heartache you went through and all the pain you put upon yourself the one person that stuck by you was Bucky. How could you be so stupid not to see it until now? Why did it have to take him to sleep with you to finally see with a clear view?

“Hey, Doll. Sweetheart. don’t cry, my love, it’s okay.” He brushed your hair, soothing you. But you still broke down.

“Why am I so stupid? God, you must think I’m an idiot, being with men that want nothing to do with me and on top of that. I had a perfect, amazing guy who was already in love with me.” You hiccuped, trying to wipe away your tears. Silence fell, oh no, did I make it awkward? He starts to chuckle… Oh no, he’s lost it.

“Doll, please. Listen carefully.” He grabbed your face, looking at you straight in your doe eyes. “I have loved you the moment I met you. I love you so much that I was willing to wait for you whenever that day would come.” He kissed your cheeks, then you’re nose, forehead, and Jaw. Every inch of your face was littered with kisses until his lips finally met yours in a soft, long, and passionate kiss.

“James…” You breathed into the kiss making you pull away with a nod. “When we get a moment I wanna take you out. If that’s okay…”

“Okay? This is more than okay. What about tomorrow? I’ll take you anywhere, whatever you want to do. We can do it.”

“Well, what about for now we do….” You gained a smudge of confidence rolling your hips against his. Your legs snake around his waist, making Bucky bite his lip. He kissed you once more before leaning over to his side table to grab a condom. A tingle surged in your gut as you watched with wide eyes as bucky tared the packet open. You knew he was big but fucking hell.

“Ready?” He smirked, lining himself up with your entrance. You nodded, but he huffed “what did I say about words, Darling?”

“Please Buck5. I’m ready.” He held you’re hips, easing into you starting slow. You grabbed his hand, lacing his fingers with yours. A slight pain surge in you, but you breathed through it as his thrusts began to become harsher. His lips lacked onto any part of your skin they could retch as he sucked bright purple-ish marks on you.

His soft and passionate whispers against your flesh make you shiver with adoration. He praises you, telling you how amazing, beautiful, and kind you are. He squeezes your hand tighter, snaking his other hand from your hips to around your waist. Pulling you close to him so his chest is flush against your own. The tears that trickled down your cheeks stained the pillow and sheets below. All your emotions felt like they were heightened, and your senses were filled with nothing other than the flavour and scent of Bucky.

"Fuck, James!!" You scream, nails digging into his back. "Buck I-I..." You choked, whimpering at the tingling that brewed in your gut.

"I know, baby, let's go together. Okay. Hold me, close, Darling. I'm right here." His soft-spoken voice cooed amongst the sounds of heavy breathing and skin slapping. And like as if his words were what your body was searching for, you came hard. Bucky came shortly with the feeling of your tight pussy clenching him. His lips smash on yours once more. Feeling the overflow of the afterglow settle in.

Even though this started from hatred and anger towards your ex. He hopes he could make you come to see what he sees because he meant every word he spoke while his lips were on you. You were everything and more to him. And he will stop at nothing to prove it to you.

#1-800-jjbarnes #jjbarnes #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns angst #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns smut #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes

[orphicrose]

Are you still doing requests? Can I request Alastor x Wife reader who were married together alive an reunited in hell and while Alastor hates modern tech the reader grew on it and even started a life hack channel on voxtube of tricks from the 1920s and it becomes really popular and she gets sponsors and fan mail meanwhile Alastor needs Angel's help just to video chat her and one day she gets a 5 million subscriber mileage congratulations gift box (that all creators get bit hes still mad) from Vox himself

Old man and an Iphone

Requests are still open indeed.

I can definitely do my best! I’ve changed the dates around a little to better fit the technology advancements in the universe. This is set in the early 2000s

This is somewhat small, but i hope you like it.

----------------------

Years passed like turning pages since your husband had departed from you, in the cruelest ways that anyone could imagine. A fate that wasn’t even inevitable. That singular fragile piece of metal, shot from an unknown hunter, took him away from you.

You knew who he was, you knew what he was. Knowing that you’d end up in the same temple of horror one day that he has. His sins being your sins. That brought you some peace. Knowing you’d be reunited one day. Even if it was in the worst place imaginable. Hell. That day came sooner than you’d like to admit. Leaving behind your clueless grandchildren and your own hellish spawn.

The ground below you hit rather hard, not even knowing you were falling down the rabbit hole till the bottom came right to your face. You let off a grunt in response. Your body feeling light, all of a sudden. As if the age and wrinkles had just vanished, and you were young again. Legs feeling like they could run miles, and skin, well. Your new hellish form wasn’t much of an improvement from leather skin.

Knowing for years you’d end up here, it wasn’t too difficult to take in. Accepting your sins and your fate as a part of your journey. It wasn’t so bad. There was society, and structure down here. Immortality being the only true torture.

The other torture, you had no idea where your dearest Alastor had ended up. It had been almost 70 years since you’d seen him, god knows what he looks like now. Your reunion was sudden, after all, he was a well known overlord. Yet, it was still something out of a textbook romance novel.

Over the next decade or two, you two spent every second together. Refusing to be apart again. You sharing stories about your children, grandchildren. Melting Alastor's heart like he never thought you could. There was so much catching up to do. After time, you became infatuated with the media, creating your own channel. it was called "Hellish crafts", which started with a bunch of silly tips and tricks when it comes to house work. Alastor didn't understand, but it came with a hefty income.

After becoming tenants at the misguided daughters of hells hotel, you soon began helping with advertisements. Which grew the channel even more. From random life hacks, to advertisements, to smaller channels asking you for your help to grow theirs.

"Must you film me, dear?" his hand covers his face as the camera fizzes out of focus.

"Yes! Its for Charlie. Lighten up old man" You teased him, filming the hotel lobby. He smiled at your expression, resting a hand on the small of your back as you did your craft.

"Y/n! Y/n! Another letter for you!" Niffty ran over

Alastors hand dropped, snatching the letter from the little goblin.. Eyebrows furrowed. "This is the third letter in the passed three days, sweetheart"

"What can i say, my channel is a hit" One eye was closed as the other was pressed to the run down camera that Alastor insisted you used. Still walking slowly around the hotel, trying to get a good shot. Alastor stood in his place, reading the letter. "Another delusional fan" He mumbled.

"Don't worry! i wont let the fame go to my head" You swung around with the camera, getting him in frame. The static of his aura interfered with the lens and gave your brow a small electric shock. Jolting you backwards.

"I've warned you about that" He chuckled, hand returning to your waist and pulling you closer. His other hand with the letter, raising, and a fit of flames emitted. Turning the letter into ash on the floor, which nifty didn't wait to clean up.

Life was like this for a while, constant letters. Some weird, some genuine. But you never got to read most of them, as Alastor made it his duty to send them to another realm before you could. was he jealous? maybe, he'd never care to admit it though. That was until a rather glamorous piece of paper fell through the letter box on this particular day. Stamped with Vox's logo. You got to this letter first.

"What the fuck?" Your almost angry tone alerted Alastor, whose body materialized next to yours in seconds. "What's the matter, my dear?" his eyes briefly scanned over the letter before snatching it from you.

"What is a 5 million subscriber?"

"Its the amount of people who support my channel, i honestly didn't even know it was that big." you stared up at him, waiting for some sort of outburst on his face.

"That's... " he thought for a second "Wonderful dear! Absolutely wonderful!" his arms wrapped around you in an embrace, spinning you around. When you first started the channel, with his knowledge, it was more of a way to pass the time. So, for it to be as big as it is now was quite the accomplishment. What kind of husband would he be not to support his perfect wife, he thought. Whether she was practically paying vox or not. His quarrels weren't hers.

"I believe you have some type of reward, y/n" He spoke again, putting you down and giving the letter back. His sharp nail pointed at a fine print at the bottom. 'Visit the Vee headquarters to redeem your reward'.

You both looked at each other, brows raised and a concerned look in your eyes. "I'm sure it's not important. I don't need a reward"

He looked as if he was in deep thought. Contemplating everything for a second. "You should go" "But vox is your-"

"Hush, little woman" His finger covered your lips "This is important to you darling. I trust you"

The smile on your face made his bigger, making you deserving of the little peck he placed on your lips before adjusting his posture. "On the condition that my shadow follows your every move"

"Done"

A few hours had passed since your departure, Charlie offering razzle and dazzle to escort you to the large mansion on the other side of the pentagram. It was quite the journey, considering the traffic. And it wasn't long before Alastor began to miss you, wondering if you were okay.

"Ahem" static gave Angel a brief episode of tinnitus before he swung his body on the lobby sofa, met with the lanky deer.

"Waddya want, pimp?" his attention didn't last long, his phone having far more interesting contents than the demon lurking behind him.

"I need a favor" his smile made the question seem a lot more sadistic than intended. His body swiftly moved around the sofa, standing in front of the spider now.

"If you want my soul, I got bad news for ya."

"Your soul?" He was almost confused for a second "No, i need help with this" he lifted his hand, angels phone disappearing and reappearing in the deer's grip.

"Wh- hey! Give that back" Angel leapt to his feet, reaching up and snatching it back. "Why do you want help with a phone? Aren't you like, from the dark ages?"

It took Alastor a moment to be able to admit to it. "I'd like... to call my wife"

"Awww, is someone clingy" angels teasing didn't last long before radio dials appeared in the demons eyes, radio interference filling the air as quickly as it had disappeared earlier. "Okay, okay" Angels hands flew up in surrender, Alastor returning to normal instantly. "Splended!"

It took a moment for Angel to flick through the thousands of contacts he had, before he finally reached you. Pressing the call button and handing the phone to Al. Who held it like an old grampa looking at a meme. "What do i do now?" he squinted his eyes at the device in his hand. "Just hold it" Angels voice became frustrated as he readjusted the phone in Als hand.

You had picked up the call a minute ago now, on your way back to the hotel. Being greeted to the two boys bickering. "Helloooo?" you sung out, attempting to get their attention.

"Oh. Hello my dear!" Alastor noticed to and bared his teeth in an awkward smile. "I just wanted to see how my love was doing, is all"

"How sweet. I will be back soon." You had many questions to ask when you were back with the comfort of your person.

"Do hurry"

#fanfiction #x reader #request #reqs open #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[sleekswosobession]

tears streaming down your face

barça femeni x reader, lena oberdorf x reader

request: here

A/N: please tumblr gods, stop giving me sicknesses i write about in sickfics. i am TIRED.

also the the requester i changed it a lil bit - hope it makes you happy (do not ask how this would work, this is fiction. this does not make sense in any reality tbh)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As soon as you go down, you know what it is. The worst injury any footballer could imagine. Then, out of nowhere Lena Oberdorf (the defender marking you) can’t seem slow down and when she tries she trips over your good leg. Groaning as her knee hits the ground with a pop. Similar to yours.

Your faces are near each other, both silently empathising with each other when a rush of blaugrana swarms the area. Alexia sensing what your injury could be already.

“Is it?” She doesn’t want to say it, nobody ever wants to hear those letters.

“I think so, Ale I don’t want this please.” You sob, climbing into her lap.

“I know, I know. Deep breathes, you’ll get through this.” You do as told then you hear commotion to the right of you where Lena lays. You listen to the accented angry voices of Claudia and Patri.

“Ay, stop being dramatic. You literally tripped over her now you’re pretending to be hurt? Estúpida.”

“You are telling me you could not stop? Lies.”

As you’re about to tell them to stop, Wolfsburg players have shoved the spaniards away from their hurt teammate. Alex does the same with Lena as Alexia does to you.

Players around and above you are shoving each other and in your opinion it’s all too much. You’re overstimulated, in pain and all you want to do is cry. It seems Alexia notices this.

“Aye, Barça why don’t you be responsible and leave so that both medical teams can come over and do what’s needed for the players.” Her voice is her stern and the German captain agrees telling off her players as well.

When the crowd has gone, medical teams swarm and do the necessary on field tests, both ultimately asking for stretchers. Not a good sign.

You send a small sad smile to Obi, an understanding between you two. No bad blood or anything.

You part ways into seperate areas and get given the rundown. They suspect it’s the ACL, but scans will be needed to determine how bad it is and what type of surgery needs to be done.

You’re deflated, 9-10 months of recovery sounds horrific. They give you crutches, and put ice on your knee allowing you to watch the rest of the match in the stands. When you make it out, the young German is there as well, looking equally as tired.

“So, the three letters?” You ask, focusing on the match.

“Yeah, you?” You nod, sighing.

“It’s all apart of the game, it sucks that we have to miss so much though.”

“Yeah, it really does. Also before I forget, sorry. I didn’t mean to trip over you.”

“Hey, I know you didn’t. Maybe after our surgeries we could meet up sometime.” She stares at you.

“Would you come to Germany?”

“I’ve always loved Germany, it’s so nice there. So yes, I would.” Her eyes light up.

“So this hangout… is it like- a date orrr.” You laugh at her nervousness.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is, probably shouldn’t tell the teammates about this though. Not just yet, after nearly giving you another injury themselves.” You smile sadly at her, feeling guilty for your friends actions.

“Yeah, if I wasn’t in so much pain I probably would’ve yelled back. But you know I was also held down by a certain scary yet very nice woman.” You agree with that statement. Alexia is the same.

You both talk for the rest of the game and exchange numbers at the end with a promise to see each other soon.

- - - - -

You get confirmation of the rupture later that day, and told that in about a week you would go through surgery.

Alexia has essentially forced you to stay with her because she knows what it’s like and she knows the rabbit holes you could go in. She tries her hardest and you respect that.

She makes you come to training, not for you to watch them but for them to watch you. Jana stays with you in the gym working on her own recovery.

She makes jokes and makes the long week a bit easier, you’re also on your phone a lot. The others think it’s your way of distracting yourself… but it’s not particularly you that’s distracting yourself.

More like a certain Wolfsburg player.

Lena had been good, it was also confirmed for her and she had her surgery as soon as she was back in Germany.

Things were going well, and in 2 weeks there should be another game between your teams and in Germany. Which should be fun.

- - - - -

It’s the day after your ACL surgery, it went well and now you’re hobbling around sad, annoyed and in pain. Some of the team was at Alexia’s house trying to cheer you up but you didn’t even know what you wanted.

Out of nowhere Frido and Ingrid pull you up from the couch saying nothing other than.

“We’re taking her, bye!”

You follow them slowly into Frido’s car and sit in the backseat.

“What is it?” You ask the Scandi’s.

“Hmm don’t think we haven’t seen you messaging on your phone a lot. Do not forget we have also played at Wolfsburg.” Oh, they knew. Of course they did.

“So, tell us everything. Are you coming to Germany with us?” Ingrid asks after Fridolina.

“It was my plan, yes. Also, the thing with Lena is new. I just don’t want to mess up. I think my feelings are growing stronger so I want to do what’s right.”

“Ahh, young love.” The Norwegian says dramatically putting a hand to her chest.

“Ingrid didn’t you nearly go to jail for threatening a man trying to hit on your girlfriend.” Frido snickers at your comment.

“Frido, you are in love with a MAN. Please.” The silence is loud as you laugh at yourself.

“Kid I will murder you.” The blonde says.

“Nooo you’d have an angry German to deal with and their language is already angry enough. Then Ale would cook you.”

She hums in agreement, before conversation turns normal and light, filled with laughter.

- - - - -

You’re in the stadium waiting for the game to start, sitting next to Lena. Talk is small, about recovery and everything in between. It’s comforting to know that someone near you is also going through the same thing.

As the game progresses, so does your chatter. You make plans for afterwards, going to a small restaurant she liked.

By the end of the game, your hands are sealed together and as the final whistle blows, you kiss her cheek and walk to the field.

Maybe this journey for recovery won’t be so lonely.

—————————————————————————

i lost my first cricket match… this one girl can’t catch a ball and does nothing 💀 how is she on the team

also this won’t be a 2 parter because i have no motivation ❤️

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader

[cosmicanakin]

full of surprises.

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

pairing. vinnie hacker x female reader.

outline. helping vinnie in the garage, your knowledge, and skills with cars over the years come to surface, unveiling a secret you'd kept hidden.

contains. fluff, explicit language, smut, thigh riding, fingering, pinv, & breeding kink mentioned.

authors note. while i was scrolling through pinterest, i fell down a rabbit hole of photos of vinnie working on cars. and it inspired me to write. <3

the soft clanking and muttered curses drifting from the garage pull you away from your mindless scrolling on your phone. you glance at the clock, noticing it's past midnight already. vinnie told you he'd be done working on his by now but it seems he's hit another snag in repairs.

sighing, you slide off the couch and pad down the hallway. vinnie's bent over the open hood distractedly turning a wrench, smears of grease decorating his gray tank top and forearms in a way that makes your heart flutter. you admire his toned physique for a moment, always loving when he gets hands on.

“any luck, babe?” you ask softly, not wanting to startle him. vinnie jerks up with a grimace, rubbing the back of his neck. “ah, no not yet. this damn fuel pump is being a real pain in my ass. i've replaced every other part but it just won't prime right.”

he kicks the tire in frustration earning a soft chuckle from you. striding over, you stand on your tiptoes to peer into the engine compartment. years spent helping your dad under the hoods of countless vehicles have given you more than a casual understanding.

“mind if i take a look?” you inquire, already sliding some gloves from the table beside you. vinnie gapes at you in disbelief. “i had no idea you knew about cars, babe,” disbelief colors his tone but you can also detect a hint of thrill at discovering another layer to you.

“my dad always said it's a good skill for any woman to have. now scoot over, let me see what's going on.” vinnie readily obliges, interest overtaking his previous annoyance as you step into his place. running an analytical eye, you soon spot the issue.

“ah, there's your problem. the fuel filter is badly clogged, no wonder it can't draw fuel properly. just needs a replacement, should clear it right up.” you declare confidently, removing the filter to examine. vinnie peers over your shoulder in amazement.

“damn baby girl, you never cease to surprise me. i'm seriously so impressed right now, you've got me feeling all kinds of things.” he purrs against your ear, hands sliding around your waist from behind. a shiver runs down your spine at his breath on your skin but you maintain focus, humming thoughtfully.

“flattery will get you everywhere mister, now hand me the socket so i can get this fixed,” you demand gently, holding a hand back expectantly. vinnie hurriedly passes you the tool, enthralled by your take-charge demeanor. within minutes the new filter is installed and you're reassembling the compartment.

flicking your gloves away, you turn to face vinnie's adoring gaze with a smile. “alright big man, give her a start, and let's see if that did the trick.” he grins, pressing a swift kiss to your lips in thanks before jumping into the driver's seat.

the cars roars to life on the first try, rumbling smoothly without any hiccups. vinnie whoops loudly, leaning out the window with glee. “fuck baby, you're amazing! that was the perfect fix. come here, i gotta give you a proper reward.”

giggling, you allow vinnie to tug you into his lap as he's sat in the driver's seat. his mouth latches onto your neck desperately, hands roaming your sides. “i'm so turned on by how smart and skilled you are. drives me crazy knowing you could probably rebuild this engine from scratch if you wanted,” he growls between kisses.

heat pools low in your belly at his adoring praise. you slide his hands up under your shirt, craving his touch. “mhm, maybe i will someday just to watch you swoon. but for now...” twisting, you capture vinnie's lips hungrily.

he sighs into the kiss, deepening it instantly as his tongue delves between your parted lips. you rock against his firm thigh. vinnie groans, hands gripping your hips to guide your movements.

“fuck, i need you so bad y/n. let's take this inside, i wanna worship your perfect body properly.” he breathes heavily, pupils blown wide with want. you nod eagerly, already scrambling from his lap toward the house. vinnie follows, hastily towing you the rest of the way by your wrist.

as soon as the bedroom door clicks shut he's pinning you against it feverishly. your shirt disappears followed by his as he assaults your collarbone with rough kisses and nips. a gasp escapes your throat, grabbing handfuls of his hair to encourage the delicious treatment.

vinnie hikes your legs around his waist, lifting as if you weigh nothing at all. the hard line of his erection presses relentlessly against your core through the multiple layers still separating you, seeking friction. you grind down needily, desperate for more contact.

“slow down, baby, ‘m not going anywhere,” he pants, carrying you to the bed and laying you out like a feast. vinnie quickly divests the rest of your clothing, gazing in awe at your naked form beneath him.

“so perfect, and all mine.” his worshipping words steal your breath, stomach clenching deliciously. when his mouth latches onto a pert nipple to suckle, you cry out loudly at the exquisite sensation.

vinnie takes his time lavishing each breast and curve of your body with wet kisses and love bites, mapping every sensitive spot until you're writhing and begging for more. finally his fingers dip to your dripping core, circling your swollen clit teasingly.

“fuck vinnie!” you babble, back arching off the mattress at his feather light touches. he chuckles darkly, sinking two digits into your cunt. “you take my fingers so well babygirl. bet you'll feel even better wrapped around my cock though, what do you think?”

a choked moan is your only response, eyes rolling back as he pumps his fingers leisurely. vinnie slowly adds a third, stretching your entrance deliciously full. his thumb rolls firm circles over your clit in time, driving you to the edge at an agonizing pace.

just as your orgasm begins to crest, he removes his hand entirely leaving you keening. vinnie stands to remove the last of his clothing, hard length jutting proudly from his slender hips. the sight alone could make you cum but he hasn't given permission yet.

crawling back over you, vinnie slots his cock against your dripping entrance and leans down to claim your mouth in a filthy kiss. “gonna make you feel so good y/n, fuck you senseless until you can't remember your name. that's what you want isn't it?”

you whimper desperately, nodding fervently against his lips. “please, i want to feel you so deep inside me. use me as rough as you like, i'm yours baby.” his restraint snaps, and with one powerful thrust, he's fully seated to the hilt within your clenching heat.

you cry out loudly at the relentless stretch, walls spasming deliciously around his girth. vinnie groans deeply, staying locked in place to adjust before beginning a punishing rhythm of hard, deep strokes. his hips snap violently, balls slapping your swollen flesh with each impact.

all you can do is hold on for dear life, nails raking down his sweat slicked back as he fucks you into oblivion. vinnie pistons his hips with animalistic drives, pounding directly into your most sensitive spots unerringly. a constant litany of filthy praises tumble from his pretty lips, only spurring you nearer the edge.

“fuck you look gorgeous taking my fat cock sweet girl, your pussy was made for me i swear. gonna fill you up, have your belly swollen with my babies, you want that pretty girl? want me to come inside you while i fuck my name out of that beautiful mouth?”

the depraved imagery plunges you over at last, walls constricting vinnie's member in a vice grip. your orgasm tears through you with ruthless intensity, eyes rolling back as you scream his name. he chases his own release, fucking you through the aftershocks until spilling deep within your quivering channel with a guttural groan.

collapsing together in a sweaty heap, you trade sloppy kisses and whispered ‘i love you's’ while coming down from ecstasy. vinnie curls around your sated form protectively, pressing sweet affection into any skin he can reach.

“you never cease to amaze me y/n. i love how full of surprises you are, constantly keeping me on my toes. and damn do i love when you take charge like that, so fucking hot.” he sighs contentedly, nuzzling your hair.

#﹙ kari writes 𝜗𝜚 ﹚ #vinnie #vinnie hacker #vinniehacker #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie smut #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie imagines #vinnie hacker x female reader #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie x female reader #vinnie x reader #vinnie x y/n #vinnie imagine #vinnie blurb #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie fanfic

[vikuo-kuma]

Rabbit problem

A/N: Not gonna lie, this thought really just popped into my small feeble brain so enjoy while I work on a request— I also tried to keep the character as cannon as possible.

———

Walking around the school, Y/N hadn't have a thought that came to their mind. They looked around the school, seeing students conversing with each other and having the time of their lives. This particular day didn't really seem to be as chaotic as they thought. As they thought—

Y/N had decided to take their walk outside, wandering around the forest nearby the school. It was still really calming. Feeling the warm breeze blowing against their hair, smelling the sweet scent of flowers within the wind. The sun was still high above in the sky, along with the fluffy white clouds. They hummed in satisfaction at the natural surroundings of the forest. However, something had caught their attention. Y/N eyed the bush beside them, being on guard just in case it was something dangerous.

They took out their wand, ready to attack, but it was just a rabbit. It seemed injured, and holding a stick in its mouth. Y/N looked at it blankly, the rabbit seemed to have dual colored fur, dark green and yellow. The rabbit looked very familiar to Y/N, as they continued to observe it even closer. The dual colored rabbit instinctively backed away, but that didn't stopped Y/N from coming closer. "Poor thing, here..", they started to heal the rabbits wound with their magic. The rabbit seemed to have loosened up a little and hopped closer to Y/N.

"... you are so fluffy and adorable", Y/N picked up the rabbit into their arms. They started to scratch the rabbits little head, but it hit Y/N's finger away coldly. "Ow, you're starting to remind me of someone", glaring at the rabbit who had hit their finger away. It seems to look away suspiciously, avoiding all eye contact with Y/N.

"Eh, I'm still gonna keep you though. Im gonna name you Ray", they began to walk back to school, with the dual colored rabbit in their hands. The rabbit stared at Y/N with a stern expression. "While on the topic of names, I haven't seen Rayne around the school today", Y/N questioned, walking back towards the building.

While in their arms, the rabbit looked at them with a judging look, almost as if it could understand what they were saying. But they ignored the rabbit's intense gaze, and arrived at the school's building. "I think you and Rayne would be best friends", Y/N randomly commented, as they walked through the corridors of the school.

They finally reached their dorm room with the rabbit in arms. "There you go Ray", Y/N placed it down on their fluffy bed. "You must be hungry, I'mma go check if there's any carrots around", Y/N walked out of the room, wand still in their hand. The dual colored rabbit finally dropped the stick from its mouth, the small animal still had a cold expression on its face.

"Alright! I'm finally back", entering the room with carrots in their hands. Y/N saw the rabbit lying on one of their pillows, with its snout dug into it. They looked very confused, after all they weren't a rabbit expert. "Well I guess it's very sleepy?", taking a wild guess, but ignored it anyways. "It is getting dark", they said looking out the windows. "Eh, good night little rabbit", giving the dual colored rabbit a small kiss on the head. Going towards the bathroom to start on their night routine, Y/N finally finished and laid beside the sleeping rabbit.

Unsuspectingly, the rabbit woke up while Y/N was still asleep. Crawling closer to their face, the dual colored rabbit kissed the sleeping person directly on the lips. The small animal went back to sleep, letting the spell slowly break.

It was morning and Y/N started to wake up from their slumber, however, they felt something warm holding them. They blinked, a couple of times, trying to register what position they were in. Looking up, they saw the missing magic user, Rayne, sleeping away peacefully.

Huh- what

Y/N pinched themselves, thinking that they were dreaming.

Nope, definitely awake.

They pinched themselves once again, thinking that they didn't pinch hard enough. Before Y/N could do it again, someone grabbed them by their arm. "Stop doing that", a voice grumbled, it was quite deep due to it being the morning. Rayne had awakened from his sleep, looking down at Y/N. Their face flushed red, Holy crap this is real.

#rayne ames #anime #rayne x reader #mashle magic and muscles #oneshot #anime x reader #ames #fantasy #fanfic #fluff #mashle x reader

[holylulusworld]

Romanian Kiss

Summary: Your fiancè leaves you for someone else. You try to get him back and meet a grumpy taxi driver.

Pairing: Taxi Driver!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: cheating (not Bucky), angst, heartbreak, meet cute, fluff, bad Romanian

A/N: This story was inspired by the movie "French Kiss" but takes place in Romania (Bucharest).

A/N2: I'm deep down the Bucky rabbit hole again so bear with me...

Words: 1,4k

He left you. He went to Romania for an important convention.

Suddenly he didn’t call you back.

But he left a message, telling you he found the love of his life.

Love of his life? Not a week ago, he promised you forever, and suddenly, another woman took your place. One he met two days ago.

You had no choice but to catch the next plane and hit Romania to find John and win him over again. He can’t just throw three and a half years of a relationship out of the window because he met some girl half his age.

So, this is how you ended up in the cab of the grumpiest guy you ever met. He pretended to not understand your language and grumbled under his breath the whole way to the next hotel.

“Sir,” you sighed as he didn’t react. “Can you tell me where the convention is? My fiancé is there,” you tried again. “I know you understand me. Please, I need to find him. He left and met that girl. I—he can’t just throw our life together away.”

“Miss,” he suddenly said, “stop talking so much. Maybe that’s why he left you. I’ll drive you to the hotel, but I’m not a city guide.”

“Whoa, I thought European taxi drivers were nicer than the ones in New York City,” you huffed and looked out of the window. 

“Maybe you should head back then and leave Romania alone,” he snapped at you and slammed his hands onto the steering wheel.

You bit the inside of your cheek. His words haunted you like an unwanted truth. Hot tears wanted to spring free. John leaving you. The stranger taunting you. Your hopeless situation. Torn between wanting John back and running away.

All damns broke when he grunted at you and accused you of being an annoying woman. You sniffled and the tears finally fell. 

You couldn’t stop. He had to stop the car and talk to you. He opened the door and sat next to you in the backseat. “If you stop crying, I’ll drive you anywhere you want to.”

He told you his name, an odd one. Bucky. At first, you believed he lied and tried to make fun of you; but it was his real name. He talked and talked to make you calm down. While you tried to stop the tears from falling, he murmured words you didn’t understand. 

He called you păpuşă and prinţesă. His words calmed you, and you allowed Bucky to hold your hand while you told this stranger about your past, and the love you just lost.

You believed him when he told you that he’d help you find John. He had no reason to help you, but he did.

For the next few days, Bucky drove you around town. He showed Bucharest, the most important places, and helped you stalk your fiancé and his new girl.

He even let you cry in his chest when you watched John meet the girl’s parents after knowing her for a few days. And the worst was, she wore a diamond ring, making your chest tighten.

“The convention is held in this building,” he said and pointed at the luxurious building. “Do you want to go inside and find out if your fiancé is in there?”

“I don’t know,” you said and meant it. If you met your fiancé right at that moment, you didn’t know what to say. “What if she’s prettier than me, or smarter…or younger.”

“Doll,” he placed his hand on your shoulder, “if you don’t talk to him, you’ll never know. If you want me to, I’ll drive you back to your hotel and you can fly back home and forget about him.”

“No, you’re right. I should talk to him but,” you sighed and looked down at your body. “Jeans and t-shirts won’t make him see me in a different light, don’t you think?”

“If you want me to,” he cupped your face and looked you deep in the eyes, “I’ll turn you into a maneater stealing his heart and mind.”

“You look stunning,” he said, watching you walk out of the bathroom of your suite. “I mean…wow.” Bucky eyed you up and down. 

“I,” you shook your head. The dress felt like a second skin, but you felt like it was suffocating you. The heels were too high and the make-up too much for your liking. 

In other words – this wasn’t you. But if wearing a short and figure-hugging dress, too much make-up, and heels makes John fall for you again, so be it.

“Go ahead, doll,” Bucky said and gently nudged you toward the entrance of the fancy restaurant. All you had to do was walk inside, pass John’s table by, and sit at the table Bucky reserved for you. He’d take care of the new girl by your fiancé’s side and distract her long enough for John to fall for you again. “He will love you.”

You took a deep breath and got the show on the road. While walking inside the restaurant, you held your head high and didn’t look at anyone. Including John.

For a second, you heard him gasp when you walked past his table, but you resisted the urge to turn your head to look his way.

You used the few words you learned in Romanian from Bucky to order water and food. The whole time you didn’t look at John’s table, always busy talking to the waiter, checking your phone, or reading the tourist guide Bucky bought for you.

“Y/N?” You only looked up when John was standing right in front of your table. He looked surprised and a little scared. “What are you doing here?”

“John?” You acted surprised too. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you about the convention, didn’t I?” He cocked his head to look you up and down. His eyes trained on your chest he murmured your name when you acted like you forgot about him, the convention, and the fact that he left you for some other girl. 

“Oh, that was in Romania. I can’t remember, sorry. With all the things going on in my life, the cancellation of our wedding and buying a new apartment I forgot about you.”

He sat down and puffed his chest. John tried, just like he did before he asked you out on a date for the first time, to impress you. You smiled and let his compliments and charm wash over you.

John and you dined together, and it almost felt like back then. And when he asked you to join him in his hotel room, you didn’t hesitate to follow him.

A few days ago, you would’ve happily given in to his advances. A few hours ago, you dreamed of being with him again. 

But at that moment, all you could think about was the guy you ran into while chasing your unfaithful fiancé.

His lips didn’t feel perfect against yours any longer, and the weight on top of yours didn’t make you feel how you should. 

“No, stop,“ you pushed him off you. “This isn’t right.”

“Baby, it’s right. I was a fool,” you whimpered at his words.

“I came here to hunt you down and win you over again but..” You got off the bed and grabbed your dress. “Not a few hours ago you wanted to marry that woman. Tonight, you believe I’m some sexy wonder woman but in the morning, I’m still the same woman I used to be.”

He tried to stop you, but you shook your head. “Please give me another chance. I was blinded by lust and—” He trailed off. “Maybe I was scared of the future and getting married.”

“You weren’t scared of marrying that woman you barely knew,” you cocked your head and gave him a sad smile. “Just tell me the truth. You’re not made for normalcy and me.” You bitterly admitted. “I’m not exciting and wild. Only the reliable and boring woman you easily forgot about the moment you met someone else.”

“You did what?” Bucky threw his hands up as you ran to him after you turned John down. “Why? I mean…all the effort and you let him off the hook?”

“It didn’t feel right,” you murmured and dropped your gaze.

“Why?”

“Why what?” You asked.

“Why did you turn him down,” he stepped closer to gently cup your face. “Tell me why, prinţesă.”

“I can’t…”

“Why?” He softly asked. “Doll?”

“I’m scared.”

“Tell me,” Bucky leaned closer to whisper against your lips. “Please.”

“Te iubesc,“ you whispered.

“I love you too,” he pressed his lips to yours and wrapped his arms around you. Right at that moment, you forgot about John and your past together. All that counted was Bucky holding you in his arms.

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #female reader #fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #Romanian Kiss #beefy bucky

[generalllimaginesss]

"If the entire human population was in front of me, I'd still choose you” with Jack.

I can only imagine what it would be like to have fans attack you if you were publicly dating him. I feel like Jack is so conscious of this. And he’s just soft boyfriend Jack trying to block out the unnecessary noise.

Maybe they just went public and she’s getting a lot of hate and it’s making her insecure. And Jack reminds her that it’s just them against the world and the only people whose opinions matter are their family and friends who love her.

Warnings: self depreciation, insecurities, self image issues, etc. Please don't read if you're not in a good headspace!!!

This is probably my favorite thing that I’ve written. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

plus size! reader x Jack Hughes

••

You knew that dating somebody in the limelight would have its challenges. Hell, dating an average person was hard. But nothing could have prepared you for the magnitude of hate that hit as soon as Jack went public with your relationship.

It wasn't like the relationship was new. The two of you had been dating for almost a year before he decided to post you on his Instagram. You let Jack set the pace since he was used to the attention. He could let things go in one ear and out the other a lot easier than you could. He was almost conditioned to be able to do that. You, on the other hand, took everything very personally. Every comment about your weight, about what you wore, about how Jack looked miserable with you, they all hit you like a ton of bricks.

You didn't understand why all of these people were coming at you saying so many horrible things, but Jack tried his best to ease your mind and remind you that at the end of the day it was you and him.

He did a really good job at this normally, but he was away on a roadie for a few days and things began to get really bad. This started when you saw a fan account for Jack post something about how Jack downgraded from Sienna to you and all of the comments agreeing.

It was like a rabbit hole...once you clicked on that post it led you to many others. They all made you feel like shit, but when people started commenting on your body, saying that they "didn't know Jack dated plus size girls," it hurt. Your body was yours. It wasn't like you could just zip it off and find a new one, but if you could you would, just to shut the comments up.

You spent the 3 days Jack was gone in a really dark depression. No laundry was done, you hadn't showered, and you barely could make yourself get out of bed to brush your teeth. Dishes piled in the sink, but you couldn't make yourself do them. You knew the signs of your depression, but you welcomed them in a way, almost like a coping mechanism. Not allowing people to see you was the only way the haters couldn't get new material. Was it a healthy way to cope? Obviously not, but it was what worked in the moment.

As soon as Jack walked through the front door, returning from the games, he could tell something wasn't right. You always kept up with the chores when he was away, normally making the house spotless before he got back. So when he saw the state of the kitchen and eventually the rest of the house, he knew something was off.

When he walked into the bedroom and saw that you were pretty much in the same spot he left you in he immediately dropped his bags and climbed into the bed with you, forcing you to look at him.

He gently shifted your body to face him, cupping your cheek gently with his hand.

"Baby, what happened," He made note of the streaks that stained your face, probably from countless hours of crying. He wanted to make them disappear immediately. You were his happy-go-lucky, carefree girl. You danced around the house all the time, singing whatever song was playing. This side of you was uncharted territory that he wanted to take away so bad.

"I just need you to hold me," You began to hyperventilate, worried that if he didn't hold you that he would leave you. Even though that would never in a million years cross his mind. But he did as you asked, and whether it was for 5 minutes or 30 minutes, he didn't know. He held you until you pulled away.

"Can we talk about it?" Jack asked, pulling the hair that crusted on your cheek from the tears out of your face. He treated you like you were fragile, and you hated that he felt that way.

"It's just the comments, Jack. I'm already insecure sometimes and these people come at me in so many horrible ways," You began to explain, loose tears streaming down your face, but you were composed otherwise.

"They compare me to Sienna, and God, I know I'm not as pretty as her. They tell me I'm fat and that they didn't know you dated "fat" girls. It's just insane. Do they not realize that I actually am a real person with real emotions? Do they know that I've believed, at some point in time, the things they are saying? I've worked so hard to get to this place where I'm at, to love who I am, and within the span of 3 days they just tear it all down," You let the words just flow from your mouth, whatever thought that comes to mind is voiced to Jack.

"Baby, they don't care. They don't care because they're jealous," He tries to soothe you, but it almost made you mad. Not at Jack, but at the whole situation.

"What the fuck are they jealous of? My thighs that I cover with leggings and pants so that I won't have to go through the pain of them chafing? Are they jealous of the fucking stretch marks that go up my stomach, so I refuse to wear regular bikini bottoms? I mean what the fuck, do they want my anxiety and depression? I will gladly give them that..." The tears were beginning to pick up, but Jack continued to rub your back, waiting to get the chance to speak again.

"I know you could have any girl you wanted. It makes me sick when I see some blonde walk past that looks like she stepped out of a magazine because I know that's what you deserve. You don't deserve this. You're Jack fucking Hughes," You looked at him, your lip quivering. You were going to say something else, but Jack put his finger on your lips, gently stopping you from continuing.

"You gotta stop that. I can't let you keep putting yourself down like this, not when I love you with my whole fucking heart," He began.

"First off, I had that. I had whatever you consider a girl walking out of a magazine is. Look how that turned out. It didn't, did it? You don't look like Sienna, and I'm so fucking glad because I don't want her kind of beautiful. I want your kind. I want to see all of the things on your body that show me that you lived. I don't want some manufactured cookie-cutter girlfriend. I want somebody that nobody else has," He pulled you in for a hug, continuing to talk while placing kisses ever so gently on your cheek and neck, looking out the window at the busyness that was the outside world. All he could think about was how you didn't see what he saw. Why couldn't you see it?

"Baby, I want you to realize something. If the entire human population was in front of me, I'd still choose you. Without a second thought, with no regrets. Every. Single. Time. You have such a special relationship with my brothers and that means the absolute world to me. They love you so much. My parents tell me I should marry you anytime that you come up in the conversation. The entire team has commented on how much happier I am with you. And if I'm being completely honest, at the end of the day I don't give a damn what anybody else has to say because it's me and you until the end. Do you understand me?" He broke the hug, cupping your face with both hands and wiping at the tears with his thumbs.

"I love you," You whisper, your voice long gone by now.

Jack pulls your forehead toward his lips, kissing it for a few seconds before letting your head go.

"I love you, too. More than you, or anybody else, will ever know. Now, I think we could go for some cleaning karaoke, yeah? I'll wash the dishes if you'll dry them," He poked at your side, trying, and succeeding, in forcing a grin on your face.

"Only if we can get a shower together afterwards," You bargained, taking in the beautiful boy.

"Deal," He says and drags you off to the kitchen, connecting his phone the the speaker and blaring Dierks Bentley's new song "Beer at My Funeral," occasionally twirling you in a circle.

The water may or may not have gotten everywhere since Jack decided it was a good idea to spray you with the hose that connected to the sink, but he enjoyed every second that he got chased by you around the island.

Once the dishes were put up and the shower washed away the remaining bit of your depression, Jack couldn't help but to just admire you. He promised himself then that he would remind you so often of how beautiful you were so that would be the only words ringing through your head, taking up any space that the hate may have. Because it was true. You were the most beautiful and precious thing that had ever walked into his life, and he'd be damned if anyone made you feel otherwise.

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#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jh86

[apomaro-mellow]

Jeff just looked at Steve’s retreating form wide eyed. “He’s a whole idiot. A fucking moron, I swear.”

Eddie was watching as Steve walked away as well, but with an altogether different emotion in his eyes.

“Steve Harrington is anything but an idiot.”

“How d’you figure?”, Gareth asked.

Because when you’re prey, you couldn’t afford to be stupid. A smart rabbit knew when to hunker down and hide. A smart deer knew when to bolt. Eddie had laid out the trap: a flirtatious remark. Steve had looked right down at it and turned away because he wasn’t going to be caught so easily.

Eddie was going to have to be smarter too.

--------------------

Eddie had a strategy when he wanted just blood. Get ‘em alone, compel them a bit, get a bite, leave ‘em disoriented and play it off like they’d just taken a weird hit of whatever strain he was selling.

When he wanted more than blood, when he wanted someone, he had a different tactic. It started with light flirting. The kind you could joke about. That was how he had started with Steve. But Steve had just looked at him, eyes wide and innocent like he couldn’t understand what Eddie was insinuating when he said he wanted a taste.

“And I don’t mean the cone”, Eddie had said, glancing at the ice cream in Steve’s hand.

That hadn’t landed. And it burned Eddie inside. He had to be more blatant. His fangs were itching to sink into that flesh but Steve Harrington had continued to evade him.

It all came to a head when Eddie found himself at a Harrington house party. Normally he hung around for a bit to deal, then bounced. But tonight he was planning on completing his conquest. Steve was always surrounded by people though. It was hard to pick him off.

There was a moment when he’d lost him. And in the heat and hormones of a teen crowd, he couldn’t sniff him out. Then someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Steve’s lookin’ for you.” It was some guy Eddie didn’t know well and he was talking like Steve was hankering for some weed. Like he couldn’t just find him himself. But some folks preferred to smoke to relax and not to party so he wasn’t too surprised to be sent up his room.

Eddie made it up there and found Steve, leaning against his doorway, a perfect line from head to toe. He looked up at Eddie through his lashes.

“Hey. Wanna come in?”

His bedroom. The room where so many had spent a night with Steve Harrington and came out with a story to tell. Eddie couldn’t believe it. Had he somehow lucked into Steve’s pants? 

He took a step forward and caught an almost smug look on Steve’s face as he took a step backward into his room.

Wait.

Wait just a damn second.

“You’ve been hunting me.”

“I’ve been luring you, it’s a little different.”

“You know what I am?”

“I know you’re allergic to garlic. And that you need my permission to cross the threshold”, Steve said.

“And?”

Steve slipped his fingers through the belt loops of Eddie’s pants and pulled him in. Eddie closed the door behind him. To catch or be caught, either was fine by him.

#stranger things #steddie #apo writes #fanfiction #eddie munson

[lokischocolatefountain]

Second Thoughts

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 4.2k words

Summary: Weeks before their wedding, one of them might have second thoughts.

A/N: For days, I have been haunted by this picture of Pedro wearing gold chains and I needed to write this to keep myself from exploding. It’s Pedro’s fault. And I chose Javi for the fic because that slut always has like the first 3 buttons of his shirts undone (like a whore, jezebel, harlot) and it drives me mad to see his neck. Anyway, enjoy 😉

“What’s this?” He took the cigarette back between his fingers to ask. It was his customary post-sex smoke. Something he couldn’t give up on, much like his customary workplace smoke, road rage smoke, morning smoke, post-lunch smoke— you got the idea.

“A dildo.”

Javi looked up at her, eyebrows raised and lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn’t as impressed by her attempt at a joke as she was. But then again, the man was known for his eternal grumpy face. He could be offered a lifetime supply of free whiskey and he would still look like someone ran his dog over.

She rolled her eyes at him. For a man employed by the US government to go after Pablo Escobar, he sure was dumb.

“What does it look like, Pendejo? It’s a gold chain. For you. Happy birthday,” she snapped, pushing the present into his hands.

His brown eyes softened as he took her hand and rubbed circles on her wrist with his thumb. “Querida…you shouldn’t be spending all this money on me. I don’t even wear jewelry.”

“It’s a gift, Javier. And I know you don’t wear jewelry. I just think you should be.”

“Oh?” He asked, head tilted and eyebrows knitting together in curiosity.

“Mhmm. Let me explain to you in terms that your male brain would understand,” she said, getting on her knees on their bed and setting them on either side of his thighs. He looked incredibly beautiful in the dim lighting of their bedroom, golden skin made more gold by the warm streetlights. His hand that was not holding his present came up to her back, his touch gentle despite the rough calluses he’d earned with his years on the force.

She brought her index finger to his chest and traced his collarbones. He had beautiful skin, no matter the scars and the sunspots from all his days running around in the Medellin streets under the sun.

“Seeing you wearing a gold chain would do to me what seeing me in lingerie does to you. It’s like a little sneak peek of what’s inside, you know? Especially because you are a slut who forgets that the top three buttons of your shirts exist and I can see your chest all the goddamn time. It’s a little tease of what lies underneath.”

“Ahh…”

“Finally. He gets it.”

“‘s like seeing your lace bra and a bit of cleavage. I like the cleavage more, but the lace adds to it,” he said, hand lazily grazing the curve of her ass. There was nothing sexual about it or their nudity. They’d already gone at it like rabbits and were done for the night. But it was good to stay bare with him, her lack of urge to cover up adding to the easy intimacy they slipped into post sex.

“Exactly,” she said, taking the gold chain from him. She straddled his lap and looped the gift around his neck before clasping the ends together. He watched quietly, his stoic expression cracking through to reveal a smile when she pulled him towards herself by the chain.

Through lazy pecks of her lips, he said, “So it’s a leash, I see?”

“Maybe,” she smiled as she pulled away. She licked her lips as she took in the sight of him, congratulating herself mentally. It looked better on him than she thought it would. His body was already fucking perfect, well-toned, but the chain made it sexier somehow. The way it sat around his neck and bent when it touched his clavicle, the light hitting it beautifully to highlight it against the pink flush of his skin.

“Looks good,” she added, fingering the cold metal.

“If you say so, Jefa,” he said before taking a drag of the cigarette.

“Well I do say so,” she said, reaching to the back and pulling the pendant to the front to rest on his chest. He looked down at the pendant, eyebrows raised as though surprised to find it there. He took it between his fingers and squinted at the letters engraved on it. Her initials.

“Marking me, I see?”

“Sure… You gave me a diamond ring and I felt bad I didn’t give you anything, so…”

“It’s not traditional for women to give their fiancé something. You didn’t have to feel bad.”

“I know,” she said, tracing her initials.

“Hmm, can’t wait until the wedding to let everyone know I’m taken?”

“Suuure,” she said, rolling her eyes before getting off his lap and sitting next to him. “If that makes you feel better about being tied down to one woman forever, Javier.”

“It’s a woman who lets me tie her down to my bed, so…” he trailed, brushing his mustache with him thumb and giving her a once over.

“You sound worried…” he said, turning to get a better view of her. She kept her eyes on her lap, afraid that looking at him would be confirmation in his eyes if this worry he’d caught so easily.

She wasn’t worried. Or so she liked to think. When he got on one knee, she was a little surprised. One, they’d only been dating for a year. Two, she didn’t think he was the marrying kind. The first words out of her mouth weren’t Oh my God or a resounding Yes. It was a hesitant Are you sure?

When she visited his hometown Laredo with him to meet his Papa and his extended family and friends, she had more reason for unease. A neighbor just not so casually dropped the secret that he’d once been engaged to someone else, someone he left at the altar before moving to Colombia.

“You’re so brave, giving our Javi a chance after what he did to poor Lorraine.”

“What did he do to…? Who is Lorraine?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you? Figures. She was his fiancée. Left her at the altar. The poor girl.”

Lorraine had reassured her that everything was alright, even implying that she was glad she didn’t have the bad luck of ending up with Javier. It was an immature Javier from many years ago, she’d said as much. He wouldn’t do that again. He made mistakes, but never made the same mistake twice. Or that is what she told herself. It didn’t stop her from thinking of the worst case scenarios— Javi leaving her at the altar, a future divorce, Javi getting bored with her and cheating. He wasn’t the cheating kind despite his reputation as a manwhore. But rational thought never stopped anxieties.

“You sure you want to get married?” She asked, letting her insecurity shine through. It was better than the alternative.

“Hmm, let me think about it,” he said, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “It’s good you asked me because I didn’t even think about that when I took a good chunk of my savings and spent it on a diamond ring that lost half its value once I left the store. I just bought it on a whim and had no choice but to get on one knee, profess my undying love for you in the restaurant we met and ask you to marry me.”

You asked Lorraine too!

She swallowed her words, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

“Are you sure? Because this isn’t the first time you’re asking me that,” he said, the sarcastic tone finally leaving for a more serious one. She nodded and when he looked unconvinced, she said, “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“I know I haven’t given much time into planning a proper wedding. It’s not that I don’t want one,” he said, taking her left hand and playing with her engagement ring. “It’d be nice, with both our families there. But it’ll take time and I just can’t wait. It’s a dangerous job, you know that. And you decided to be with me anyway.”

His other hand cupped her cheek, his brown eyes revealing the depth of his heart for once. There was always a softness to them with their deep color and the downward turn of their outer corners.

“If I’m going to keep you in danger by virtue of being attached to me, I figured I should take the plunge, commit fully. If… I know it’s not great to hear it, but…” he sighed before rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “If something were to happen to me, I want you to be my next of kin. For any medical decisions, visitation rights, survivor benefits if…You wouldn’t have those rights over me if I was just your boyfriend.”

“If that’s the only reason you’re marrying me…”

“Of course not. I’m marrying you because I know I want to spend my life with you. But if this isn’t the life you want…the danger, the anxiety, the missed anniversaries and birthdays,” he said pausing before he continued, “potential of widowhood.”

Her hand closed around his and he held her back, his hold tight and reassuring in its firmness. She pulled her trembling bottom lip between her teeth and leaned into his chest. “If you have any doubts, there is still time.” She heard him swallow before he spoke again. “I’m willing to make more time if you need it. We could push the wedding, you can take as long as you need. It’s a big ask— marriage. So if you want to say…if you want to change your mind, you have every right. I won’t… no hard feelings.”

“Pobrecito…” she cooed before placing a kiss on his forehead. “I don’t have doubts. And I’m not going to change my mind.”

She felt him exhale. His eyes closed and he nodded. “Okay.”

“It would be too late anyway. Had I thought of it before we started dating, when it was just sex…maybe I would’ve left you,” she chuckled, fidgeting with the loose threats coming off their thin blanket. “But I’m in too deep now. The damage to my soul in leaving you would be far greater than anything that could happen if we stayed together. We hit a point of no return long back and now I just can’t be without you.”

Something like gratitude crossed his deep brown eyes. His eyebrows raised and his tight expressions softened. His large hand came up to cradle her face. “I can’t be without you,” he echoed, voice rich with emotion. His thumb traced her bottom lip before he leaned in. She kissed him eagerly, gentle yet passionate as they poured their anxieties and fears into the kiss. Slow and languid pecks decorated her lips and then her face.

“I was lying…”

“Hmm?”

“When I said there would be no hard feelings if you changed your mind. I was lying.”

She chuckled against his lips, placing one last kiss before pulling away. “Oh yeah?” She asked and he nodded. He held her close, not allowing her to leave his embrace.

“I would be so upset.”

“Good to know,” she said, curling a finger around his gold chain and pulling him close. His lips stretched into a grin and he gladly went where she took him. He leaned in, hoping for a kiss, but she dropped his chain and pushed him off by his chest. He raised an eyebrow at her and she simply smiled.

“You look so handsome when you smile,” she said, bringing her thumb up to his mustache, caressing the prickly hairs.

“Mhmm?” He asked, his smile morphing into a smirk. She slapped his cheek lightly and he laughed before he flipped it to a frown. “Not like that. Don’t look smug.”

“My naked wife is on my bed telling me I’m handsome and I’m not supposed to look smug?”

“Wife?” She squinted at him. “I’m not your wife yet. Keep that smug smile up and I might change my mind.”

“Oh? Didn’t you just say you weren’t changing your mind? That you were in too deep for that.”

“Yeah, that was before I realized I was marrying a liar. You kiss your fiancée with that lying mouth, Javier?”

“Oh I do more than kiss her with my lying mouth,” he quipped before getting off the bed and pulling her down the bed by her ankles. She squealed at the sudden movement, lifting her head up to find him on his knees on the floor by her legs.

The smug smile she asked him to get rid of was present and glowing more than ever. He spread her legs wider than necessary. His eyes narrowed at where her thighs met and he licked his lips, sending a shiver through her. It was maddening, the effect he had on her. She’d had him multiple times in several different positions that night. She’d put on lingerie and taken him over and over until he couldn’t anymore, until her body was covered in evidence of his presence and satisfaction settled in her heart. But here she was, a mere half hour later, desiring him again.

Spread out obscenely for him, his wide chest in between her legs, she wondered how she looked to him. If it really was such a sight that it made his eyes glaze over with lust.

“Mi esposa… Estás tan guapa así,” he praised, peppering kisses up her thigh. Her heart beat for him, faster and faster with each kiss that brought his lips closer to where she needed him most. She brought a hand to his messy curls, caressing the strands she’d pulled at just a little while back.

She groaned as he moved to her other thigh, skipping her pussy that was dripping anew with her arousal, blending with both their cum from when they last made love. He dipped a finger in, coating the tip white before bringing it between his lips.

“We taste so fucking good together, baby,” he said, pushing his finger in, deeper this time. Her pussy squelched from its wetness as he pushed in and out, the white liquid flowing out of her. He bent his head down between her legs, licking up her excess, not wasting a drop of it. He gave her a few pumps before he withdrew, making her whine.

Hovering over her, he smeared the liquid on her swollen lips. His birthday present hung from his neck, gravity bringing the cold metal into contact with her own neck. God, this was what she was hoping for when she bought it for him.

Before she could lick her lips, he brought his pretty pink ones to hers. She moaned, both from the sensation of his lips on hers and the realization of how dirty it was to be kissing with their cum from between her legs coating her lips. The man was certainly creative in the plans he cooked up to defile her. There were men who refused to even kiss her after she sucked their cock and there was Javi, tasting his own release on her lips.

She parted her lips for him, allowing his tongue to glide in. She moaned into his mouth as she tasted their combined release on his lips and his tongue. She played with his hair, untangling the knots she’d left there from tugging at it. The smell of sex filled her senses as he pulled back and breathed out of his mouth. One hand played with her breast, covered in bite marks and hickeys from his greed, while the other reached back between her legs and fucked her with two fingers instead of one, his large digits stretching her out in preparation for him.

“So fucking gorgeous, fuuuck!” He cursed, taking in her expressions as he circled her clit. “Thought I’d just taste you again. But you got me hard again. What’s this, round four for the night? Look what you do to me,” he said, taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock. He guided her hand up and down his hardening cock, making her stroke his length in his hand.

“Have me fuckin’ addicted to this cunt, baby. You can’t have second thoughts now. You’re not allowed, not even if I say you can rethink this. You think I’ll let go of pussy this good? Hmm?” He asked, withdrawing from her pussy and bringing his fingers up to his lips. He plunged them between his lips and licked it up with a moan. “Don’t be fooled by how good I take care of you. I’m a selfish man. You can’t give me aaaall this,” he said, hands roaming her body and stopping to knead her breasts. “and think I’ll be all selfless and give it up.”

She shivered from his words and arched into his touch, pushing her tits into his hands. “I was being kind and fucking stupid ‘cause I thought you might want to reconsider marriage. But I’ve got you, don’t I?” He taunted, collecting what was left of them from between her legs before bringing his fingers up to her line of sight.

“I’ve got you, all for myself. No woman who comes like this for her man will think of settling for anything else,” he said before smearing it on her face. She stroked his cock faster, relishing in how he screwed his eyes shut from her touches. She brought her thumb up to the tip of his cock, swiping up the bead of precum. She brought it to her lips and tasted him, maintaining eye-contact with the man hovering over him.

“All mine… Look at you, so fucking filthy with cum on your face. You do that for your boyfriends?” He mocked, putting down all the other men she’d let touch her before him. She shook her head, speechless as she devoured what was in front of her. She lined him up with her cunt, allowing him to push in. The fervor of his words sunk into her with his cock and she wrapped around him, warm, wet and greedy.

He was fucking beautiful— messy ink black hair falling over his forehead, soft brown eyes, neatly trimmed mustache, pretty pink lips and her initials in a gold rectangle swinging from his neck. She reached up and pushed his hair back and placed a kiss on his forehead. He didn’t always understand words, was stunned by her confessions of love, of the need to spend eternity in his arms. She knew he struggled with words, saw how much courage it took him to say I love you the first few times he did. Te quiero came easy to him, having grown up saying the words to his parents, but te amo was like moving a boulder uphill.

He spoke words of love with much more ease now, he told her he couldn’t wait the duration it took to plan a wedding to finally be her husband, told her he wanted her to be his next of kin, that she could change her mind even though he didn’t want her to. He made himself better with words. For her. Because he knew when she smiled at her book it was because of a ‘You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope...I have loved none but you’. When she read to him ‘If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more’, his breath hitched as he asked her to read the sentence once again before he confessed it was how he felt about her.

While he’d gotten so much better with his words, she liked to meet him in the middle, speak his language- touch. He understood touch— her gentle hand pushing his hair back and her lips on his forehead. He understood her hips rising up to meet his slow thrusts.

“‘Y’know, fiancée pussy is good. Better than girlfriend pussy. Bet married pussy will be miles better,” he said, making her tighten around him. “You like thinking about that? When you’re all mine to do with as I wish…”

“You need a piece of—” she stopped to hiss from how his body made contact with her clit. “Y-you need papers from the fucking government to make me all yours? Thought you didn’t go by the books, Agent Peña. You are already mine, husband or not. You’ve been mine since I— hnnng!” Her words devolved into muddled sounds as he forced himself in her harder.

“Can’t talk? I shut that mouth up, huh? Try to say you might not marry me and I’ll shut you up just like this,” he scolded, pinching her nipple between his fingers and letting go to knead her breast in his large hand. “Pissed me off so bad, I wanna drag you to the fucking embassy right now and make you my fucking wife.”

His thrusts grew harder and his dangling necklace swung back and forth, grazing her chin before swinging away only to hit right back. Exactly what she pictured. It was a pretty sight, forehead covered in sweat, errant locks of hair sticking to it and eyes glazed with lust, all for her. She wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his back and pulling him closer to herself as she struggled to meet the vigor of his thrusts. As much as she wanted him, she wasn’t as fit as a man who hunted other men for a living.

His physical prowess thrilled her, made her writhe underneath him. She ran her nails down his back, preparing him for how she would sink them into his back once again when he brought her to her peak. His muscles felt glorious under her fingers. She visualized each bulge and dip, pictured them with the scars she’d already left on his back and the scars she would give him. She moved her hand to his shoulder and then down his arm, licking her lips as it registered how fucking muscular he was, how he could crush her with them but chose instead to hold her, to love her.

As his thrusts grew more erratic and his breathing uneven, she knew he was getting close. His chain went from swinging against her to resting on her as he lied atop her and his thrusts got short. She moaned at the weight of him, aroused by how bulky he was. So beautiful and so goddamn muscular and all hers. He buried his face in her neck and filled her up with his cum, moaning her name before crumbling on top of her.

She felt him softening inside her. He slowly came to, kissing her neck before sliding down her body.

“What’re you doing?” She mumbled, fatigue settling into her worn out body. He looked up from where he slithered down, eyes still ferocious with hunger. How the fuck was this man still horny?

“Still haven’t shown you what else I do with my lying mouth,” he said, kissing down her belly and stopping at her cunt to give it a lick. She shuddered.

“Baby, ‘m sleepy…”

“‘s okay, you sleep. I’ll just get a taste here. Need to make you come.”

“You’ve made me cum many times already. I’m perfectly content.”

“I’m not. I need this pussy again,” he begged, flattening his tongue against her cunt. She hissed, sensitive from their night of passion, but grabbed him by his hair and pushed herself up into his face. “Thank you, ma’am,” he groaned into her, making her giggle.

“You’re such a whore, Javier,” she teased, still laughing. He gave her one more lick before he looked up at her with a shit-eating grin.

“You know what they say- you can take a man out of a whore but you can never take whore out of a man.”

“What does that even mean?” She asked, chest rising and falling from laughter.

“It means…” he trailed before licking his cum dripping out of her. He moved to her clit and sucked it between his lips, the pressure having her whining. Her hips jutted up instinctively, but he pushed her back down to the bed with a firm yet gentle hand on her belly. A minute of licking and sucking from his expert mouth and she came undone for him, thighs shaking and back arching before she fell back on the bed. He placed one final kiss on her mound before he lied back neck to her.

Javier and their blanket wrapped around her, she sighed in contentment.

“I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

“Oh…” she said, trying to not let her frown show. She’d planned a fun day out for him because he was supposed to have this Sunday off. Sightseeing, birthday cake and more birthday sex. But their plans were always written in water.

“I’m expecting intel from Helena tomorrow,” he said, caressing her arm. “If I’m right, if what she says matches my suspicions, the guys and I will join Carillo in Medellin. If things go well, I won’t be home until right before the wedding.”

“Well, then I better not see your ass in Bogota before our wedding day,” she said, earning herself a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

“Thank you…umm, for the gift. I… it’s nice,” he membled awkwardly. His arms pulled her in tighter and his lips pressed on her temple before she gave in to sleep. When she woke up, there was no evidence of the passions of her night other than the rumpled sheets and the soreness between her legs.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena fic #javier peña fluff #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier peña x ofc #javier peña x you #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x y/n #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #domestic javier peña #javier pena narcos #narcos smut #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #all that i've inflicted on the world

[esteljune]

Kidnap [P x reader] short fic

This one was requested by @writing-fanics. I hope you like it, dear! I really had fun writing it :) Thank you so much for the request and for the wonderful scenario! TW: Kidnap, violence, blood

It happened suddenly. The crash of the heavy double wooden front door being smashed open exploded into the Hotel's daily silence without warning. After that, it was chaos.

You don't know if it was the adrenaline rush guiding your body, but for some curious reason, instead of seeking shelter with the others, you decide to face the aggressor. The aggressors, actually.

Four of them appeared among the splinters of wood that filled the air. Their faces covered by strange black rabbit masks. In other circumstances, you would have laughed at that bizarre clothing choice, but you know all too well who they are and how dangerous they can be.

In the devastation they began to create between the solid and secure walls of the Hotel Krat, you can't help but think how much you would have wanted him by your side. Yet, you wouldn't have let him down, not now that the last safe haven in the city, his haven, is threatened with destruction.

"Upstairs, quick!" you shout to the familiar figures already scrambling around the staircase, your heart beating too fast, clouding your vision and brain, so much so that you can't make them out clearly.

Before you can process a more lucid thought, you find yourself throwing everything you can find that is heavy and blunt at the invaders. You hear them laughing at you, crudely.

You know you can't harm even one of them, but anger doesn't allow you to back down. You stand at the foot of the grand staircase, you would like to appear impassive, but your legs are shaking.

"Get out of here," you hiss between your teeth, but they advance, slowly. They don't even deign to answer you. The fact that you can't read their expressions terrifies you.

In a last desperate attempt, you swing a poker in front of you, almost not even noticing the consequences. Something heavy and hard as a boulder hits you in the stomach, knocking the breath out of you. The taste of blood appears on your lips.

Before you can raise your face, another more jarring blow hits you in the cheek, its force flings you against the heavy wooden railing like a rag doll. Then darkness.

You regain consciousness intermittently, your vision blurred, your inert body does not respond to your commands. Only the pain makes you realize that you are still alive. From the sharp hurting in your scalp, you realize that they are dragging you out of the Hotel by your hair. You want to scream, scream his name, but your lips seem glued together.

They lift you clumsily as if someone had thrown you over their shoulder. From the pain, you understand that you must have a few broken ribs.

He'll find me. He'll find me. He'll find me. The thought reverberates in your brain in perfect synchronism to the heavy and painful beats of your heart. Your mind loses itself in the swinging, a dense film of pain and fatigue clouds your consciousness again.

You have no idea how much time has passed, or where you are at the moment when again a thud detonates in the stagnant air. Through your heavy eyelids you see what remains of an enormous gate torn from its hinges by an unknown force. You hear slow footsteps in the mire, they reverberate painfully in your head, but you open your eyes terrified.

In the blink of an eye, you see him. You realize that you were waiting to see his face with every fiber of your being. You smile, but in his distant blue eyes you glimpse something new, an unmistakable spark, a feeling. Rage.

The cold mechanical fingers brush your face just before the boy rises again to face your captors. The hard, unmoving line of his shoulders barely obstructs your view, but before you can say his name you see him spring into action. You had never seen him fight like that, not with the same blind violence, with that absolute will to annihilate.

The fierce, precise blows echo through your bones. You want to look away, but fear paralyzes you. You realize you've been holding your breath only when the four rabbits are nothing but a handful of lifeless bodies on the ground.

As if stunned by his own fury, Pinocchio drops the sword to return to you in quick steps.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't stop it from happening. I know it sounds silly, but I wanted to spare you this suffering." you smile at his silent eyes in yours. You let your fingers reach his face, that they intertwine with his long dark hair.

Pinocchio feels those words sink so deep inside him that he believes they have dug into the metal. There is pain somewhere inside him, a gentle, sweet sadness.

He lifts you in his arms with all the delicacy that his hard and artificial body allows him, hugging you to his chest full of an unknown feeling. For a moment he lets his face sink into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You are almost sure you heard something very similar to a heartbeat mixed with the hissing and ticking of mechanisms and gears in his chest, a warmth in his metallic body. You return his embrace, letting yourself be led back to the Hotel, to that bed on which he lays you down, bruised and aching.

He will leave. He always does. But this time his lips gently brushed your forehead.

#lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p fanfic #lies of p x reader #p x reader #pinocchio #pinocchio x reader #liesofp #lies of p game #lop #my writing #myliesofp

[pluviophile-imagines]

you are, undoubtedly, not the only person whose blood boils at the mention of alhaitham, but you think you might be the person who gets under his skin the most.

he bickers with many of his fellow scholars, certainly, yet you can’t say anyone else makes him so angry he can’t even speak the common tongue. every time you storm off after an argument you leave him muttering angrily in some unknown language.

still, he enjoys provoking you, especially on occasions where you’ve become so lost in your work that you haven’t seen him in days. this time you’ve fallen down a rabbit hole researching an ancient language, one renowned for its prose and eloquence and, most interestingly to you, romantic confessions of love. it’s been nearly a week since you’ve encountered anyone but the librarians; the subject is fascinating.

you return to the library one morning, however, to find that he’s taken the very book you’d put on hold—using his position to undermine your claim—and though the bait is obvious, you still rise to it. the spat which ensues is predictable, fast-rising and heated within the span of a few words. it ends in the pair of you nose-to-nose with him holding the book up out of your reach and your finger prodding angrily at his chest. when you turn and storm off, he sinks back down into the chair you’d found him in.

this time, however, when he begins to curse you under his breath, you understand it.

and it makes you freeze.

you hadn’t realized until this moment but the very language you’d been researching is what he spits at you after every dispute. and now that you have researched, you realize that what he has been muttering under his breath for many months now is a bewildering kind of confession.

“you drive me insane,” he growls, only just loud enough for you to make out the words. there’s a temptation to dismiss it, vague as the accusation could be, yet the next statement is far less ambiguous as he mutters it beneath his breath. “i can barely think around you, you vexing, brilliant thing, yet when you’re gone i can’t stand it.”

it freezes you in your path. you straighten and whirl about, eyes wide, mind a blur of surprise and warmth blossoming in your chest. warmth, which only increases when you catch another grumbled sentence, spat out like the insults you thought he’d been calling you, accompanied by an icy glare down at the very book he’d stolen.

“one day,” he snarls, entirely oblivious to how you’ve caught on, “i’ll shut you up by kissing you.”

“do it, then,” you’re saying before you can stop yourself, the words rushing out more confident than you truly feel.

he startles, head snapping up to meet your gaze, eyes just slightly wide enough to betray what he’s feeling. “what?”

if you didn’t know him so well you might mistake the near-invisible expression on his face for one of anger, but it’s shock. fear, even, if the man before you is even capable of being afraid. he watches, frozen where he sits with book in hand, as you stalk back towards him until you’re even closer than before, up against his chair; until you push even further with a knee upon it, sinking the plush of the cushion between his thighs.

leaning down is the obvious next step, bracing yourself on the arms of his chair, each hand a hairsbreadth away from brushing his forearms. looming over him like this is an odd kind of invigorating—he’s so tall and broad that this position is perhaps the only one that would allow it. and he stares up at you, somehow seeming even more frozen in place, that nearly imperceptible emotion on his face sliding smoothly into something you might be so bold as to call enrapture.

“kiss me. shut me up.” you cock your head and watch those striking eyes drop to your lips just as you add a final word, goading: “coward.”

a bulky arm slings itself around your waist, tugging you down roughly onto his lap and knocking that damned book from its perch. his lips are on yours before it can hit the ground.

#mine.🌧 #char.🌧 alhaitham #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #al haitham x you

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere coworker (part 3)

Tw: fem reader, getting yelled at, getting kissed not consensually

Masterlists, part 1, part 4

You get to change into your freshly washed and dried work clothes later that afternoon, and you think you understand why he didn't want you going down there. Because as soon as you stepped into the laundry room, all eyes were on you and Cyprus. Without a shame in the world, they started ribbing him for having a girlfriend, hollering in excitement and telling you what a catch he is.

They all seem fairly young, either they're university students or people who just entered the workforce. They're comfortable enough to act like that around him, it painted you a picture of the community here.

It only took him a glare to shut them all up though. They all went back to their business as you collected your clothes from the dryer.

You went back up and he gave you privacy to change, you noted how he lived on the second floor. But there was no elevator, only dark and dingy, alloy stairwells. You don't think he paid very much for his rent.

You went out to see that he was still half naked, lounging on the couch as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom.

You asked him if you could have your phone back.

"Oh, you want this?" Without turning his head to face you, he lifted that familiar digital brick of yours to your eye level. "Come and get it then."

You walked up to the couch and tried to take it, but he jerked away from your hand. You tried to grab it again, but he pulled away. The faster you tried to swipe it, the faster he would dodge it.

To such a point that you're chasing him around the apartment. It wasn't a fair game, he had training, his legs were longer than yours and you're just an office worker who's out of shape.

You panted and rested your hands on your knees. That was when he decided to stand tall in front of you and dangle your phone over your head. You tried leaping into the air to catch it, but he would pull up at the last second, making you just out of reach.

You tried begging, hitting his chest, and dry sobbing for your device. Nothing seemed to work as he continued teasing you.

"Look at you, hopping like a cute, little rabbit. I like how you're so small against me, so weak and helpless." He scrunched his nose at you and nuzzled your nose. Cyprus saw what you're trying to do, he pulled away and avoided your grabby hands trying to remove his glasses from his face.

You felt humiliated and inferior to him, hot tears started streaking down your cheek as you kept trying to grab your phone. His laughing stopped and his shit-eating grin was replaced with an apologetic smile.

"Aw. I'm sorry, Princess. Don't cry. Here, I'll give it back." He brought it down to your chest level. You reached out to take it, only for him to retract his goodwill. "-If you let me take you out to dinner."

You tried to snatch it away a couple more times when you thought he wasn't paying attention, he was staring straight into your eyes! How could he have seen-

"I'm a boxer, doll. I can sense your hand."

You begrudgingly agreed to go with him.

"Great, it's a date then." He beamed, shoving your phone into his pocket.

You said he promised he would give it back to you.

"After the dinner, pretty girl." He clarified, walking towards his bedroom. You assume that he's going to put on some clothes.

He left the door open as he began to strip his shorts, you let out a gasp and covered your eyes when he pulled the band down too low and revealed a bit too much of his privates.

You ran to the part of the apartment where you wouldn't see anything that goes on in his room.

He rolled his eyes and stood up tall. "You're so dramatic- What are you running away for? We're going to fuck sooner or later, You're going to see it anyways!"

You refused to answer his remark, which earned an audible laugh from him while sounds of zippers and belt buckles could be heard throughout the room.

He came out a few minutes later, wearing jeans, a tight white top, and a faded leather jacket that takes on a dark brown hue instead of black. Cyprus sported clipped-on, polarized sunglasses on his prescription glasses. His combat boots were loud and demanding for every step he takes.

"Come on, Baby girl. Let's go." He gently hooked his arm around your waist as he led you out of his unit. You said that it's still afternoon, and it's too early for dinner.

"That just means we're not getting dinner now then. Come on, get out of the way, I need to lock the door." You stepped aside for Cyprus.

You asked him where is he taking you.

"Somewhere special." He jiggled his doorknob to ensure that it was locked shut.

You said that your bag is still in there with your wallet.

"You don't need either of those when you're with me." He leads you down the stairs by the small of your back.

__

You held onto him tightly as he zipped through the highway, getting dangerously close to other vehicles as he squeezed through an impossibly small gap. The wind was whipping against your helmet and his, it was noisy when coupled by the sound of his roaring motor.

You're screaming in the protective helmet he made you wear, you think Cyprus is insane for doing a wheelie with you at the back.

Your heart is thumping against your ribcage as he twisted the handles to rev up his engines. The front landed onto the asphalt with a slight bump, making you and him bob up and down with the aid of his shock absorber.

You felt your entire body jerk to the right as he made a sharp turn. You shriek, but you don't think anyone could hear you.

His motorcycle came to a screeching halt as he drifted to the side, fitting between two other unmoving cars. Cyprus did a perfect parallel park just like that, you could see the fresh tire marks on the concrete ground.

He kicked his stand down and balanced his vehicle on it, killing the engine. Cyprus got out of it and took off his helmet. He hung it on the handles before helping you off.

He laughed as you struggled to find your footing, using him as support as you stumble around with wobbly legs.

In the end, you pulled your helmet out revealing a frazzled face and hair. Which made him guffaw even louder.

He put both helmets away and stored his keys in one of his pockets. Cyprus clipped on his sunglasses and wrapped his arm around your waist, urging you to walk with him.

You asked him where he is bringing you.

"You'll see." He smiled.

You and him had to go through a path with a lot of foliage. The road was rocky and uneven, it was hard to traverse. But Cyprus was behind you the entire time, telling you to go on and making sure you're not falling.

Eventually, you reached a massive clearing with vibrant green grass and a scene that covers the entire city. There were families and other couples scattered around as they watched the sun slowly plunge into the horizon.

He took his jacket off and laid it on the ground. Cyprus gestured for you to sit on it. So you did, while he sat next to you on the grassy dirt.

There was a slight breeze blowing against you and him, but the warmth from the glowing ball in the sky is keeping the temperature to a comfortable degree.

His arm is loosely draped around your shoulders as you and he watched on. You squinted, the sunset was too bright for you to watch it normally.

"Here." You turned to him and he handed you a pair of sunglasses. You thanked him and put it on, now it's much more bearable to watch the sun setting.

It's a beautiful place. You like it here, you liked the silence. Unfortunately, Cyprus had to break it.

"It's definitely working."

You asked what was working, fighting the urge to punch the handsome smirk off his face.

"You're relaxed."

Then you noticed that you are. Your movements and speech pattern is much slower too.

"I used to come here when a couple rounds of boxing wasn't enough to calm my nerves."

You and he were quiet once more. Watching the sun's luminance become dimmer and dimmer as it slowly disappears. You weren't even bothered that he was mindlessly kneading your arm with his thumb.

Once the light is completely snuffed out and the area becomes pitch black, you suddenly feel a large hand holding the back of your head.

You instinctively turned your head to Cyprus, but that was proven to be detrimental when he pressed his lips against yours. It was soft, save for the scar that provided a bit of texture. His eyes were closed behind his glasses while he molded his kissers with yours.

He lets you go when you start thrashing, you wipe your mouth using your sleeve and spat. You began angrily complaining about his behavior, and how it isn't right for him to do this to you.

"Oh, you drama queen. Stop whining, you liked it too." He utilized the torch of his phone to light up the way, Cyprus offered you a hand, but you refused to take it and got up on your own.

He bent down and collected his jacket, slinging it over his shoulder before encasing his hand in yours. It was both rough and smooth, most of the calluses were on his knuckles.

The ride to the venue he chose for dinner was uneventful. He was calmer in his driving, no more reckless stunts that would give you deadly heart attacks.

It took another 20 minutes of riding to get there, you didn't trust him at all, that is why your arm constricted his torso tightly to make sure you kept your balance.

He parked properly this time, nothing like a daredevil as before. Checking his mirrors and adjusting his position accordingly.

"Watch your step." He said, pointing at the ledge between the entrance and the outside.

The familiar sounds of chatter, soft music and the smell of alcohol reached you. The lighting was somewhat dim and very warm, clinks and pours could be heard over the counter. He had brought you to a pub for dinner.

The waiter seated you and him in a booth. However, before he can bring the menus in, Cyprus already ordered for you and him: two plates of Steaks and fries, two pints of beer.

You said you wanted to see what they had.

"Trust me. Everything is shit except their steaks." He thanked the waiter for bringing the beer.

You watch him drink from his glass as he stares at you for not doing the same.

"Like what you see?" He winked at you.

You looked away, making him chortle at you.

"God, you are just so cute. Are you doing it on purpose, dollface?"

You scratched the back of your neck out of bashfulness. If it wasn't for Cyprus, you would be home right now, either doomscrolling or binge watching a show. This is all so new to you, having a meaningful life outside of work.

"For real now. What do you do on the weekends?" He asked.

You said that you were truthful. If you weren't invited by your friends or colleagues, you would be working or scrolling through social media.

He grunted in contemplation, sipping on his mildly bubbly beer.

"Yeah. That's not going to happen. Not on my watch." He declared. "We're going somewhere new every Saturday and Sunday."

You gave him a half hearted 'okay' before asking him for your phone back.

His pleasant smile turned into a scowl. "Will you forget about your phone for a second?!" He snapped, loud enough to spook you, but not loud enough to garner the attention of others.

"We are on a date, for fuck's sake." He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing and softening his tone. "Listen, I want this night to be just for us. No work, none of those fake assholes from work. Just the two of us. Okay?" He examined your face closely and softened his eyes.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, baby doll. Don't cry. You know I didn't mean to make you scared." He wiped the tears that you didn't realize were falling from your eyes. It was embarrassing, to say the least. You think that you're not in control of your own emotions recently because of the stress of being shoved into this situation.

You pulled away and sniffled, wiping them away and trying your hardest to regain composure.

Neither of you spoke a word in the next few minutes, you would always swat his hand away when he tried to hold yours or your face.

Cyprus was frowning. But there really isn't much he could do other than to drink his beer and to tone down his antics.

You wanted to go home and rot in bed. It's comfortable, it's familiar. You do not want to eat dinner at 8pm, you wanted to be cocooned in your air conditioned room and fry your eyeballs with the light from your fucking phone.

At this point, you don't even want your phone to contact anyone. It's like your pacifier, a distraction from the daily horrors of the world. Those silly little dances you would see people do online really make you forget what a terrible life you've lived.

You think your emotions are unravelling at a dangerous rate because you haven't had your phone to soothe you for an entire day now.

You didn't even want Cyprus as your boyfriend, fling or whatever. You just wanted to be single in peace.

You told Cyprus you're really tired and you don't want to be here.

"What's so horrible about me, that you have to pull every trick in the book to get away?"

He watched you with his eyebrows knitted in concern and sadness while he tipped the rim of his glass to his lips.

You said that you're not compatible with him. You were genuinely not interested in romance and adventure, preferring to live a life of patheticness instead. So you begged one more time for him to please hand your phone back.

He continued drinking his beer while yours remained untouched.

"That won't work on me. So, no." He replied.

Exasperated, you slumped into your seat.

The food arrived, it looked delicious with steam wafting off it. The thick cut pub fries were crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside. The sauce was perfectly seasoned with a side of carrots and broccoli.

You're too tired. Mentally exhausted to bring yourself to eat.

You looked elsewhere as you heard his fork and knife softly clattered against his porcelain plate as he cut his beef into bite-sized pieces.

"Here." You looked back up and saw that he switched plates, you got the one that was cubed into nice edible chunks while he took the one that was untouched. "It should be easier to eat."

Now that it takes less effort you picked up a fork and began stabbing it.

"You really are a princess..." He mumbled before pushing a large cut of steak into his mouth.

Cyprus had a taste of his own medicine when he tried multiple times to start a conversation, you would respond curtly. It doesn't matter what topic he chose, nothing seems to pique your interest. All you focused on was clearing your plate.

You had to pack the leftovers in a takeaway box because the portions were abnormally large. You don't think someone like you could finish it in one sitting without vomiting it all back up.

You had to wait for him to smoke his cigarette before he would drive you home. He's taking his sweet time, trying to coax a chat out of you in the process.

You remained monotonous, answering with one word or nothing at all.

He sighed as he disposed of his used cig in an ashtray built into a trashcan.

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's get you home." His hand was dangerously low on your back.

__

He knows where you live now, but you don't care. You just wanted to recharge at home, maybe isolate yourself until it's time to face everyone at work again. Keeping on a mask is exhausting, you do not want to have a boyfriend because of that exact reason: you couldn't help yourself but to act around him.

"This is the place?" He asked, propping his motorcycle with a foot on the road. You nodded, hopping off and removing your helmet.

"Wait." He parked his vehicle properly on the sidewalk before following you. "I'll walk you to the door."

You had no energy to say no, so you just kept moving forward like a zombie.

"What's wrong?" He asked when you froze. You saw the silhouette of that one creepy guy who seems to have a crush on you. But you caught him stealing your underwear from the dryer one time.

Before you could explain, the pervert came out of the lobby and called your name. He was happy to see you and was even making a mad dash with his arms wide open. But his smile dropped upon seeing Cyprus's foul glower and how you're snugly tucked under his arm.

"Who's this?" He asked, eyeing him up and down. Your stalker has to crane his neck up in order to reach your unwanted boyfriend's eyes.

"Her man, what's it to you?" Cyprus snarked, pulling you behind him while he balled his fist, readying himself for a fight. He has no chance against your coworker, he's small and scrawny with fragile bones.

"I-I didn't know she had a boyfriend!" He stammered, trying to look at you, but you took advantage of Cyprus's wide, muscular frame.

"Now, you do. Fuck off before I beat the shit out of you." He barked, making him jump and scurry away.

"Who does that asshole think he is, looking and talking to you like that? Did you see what he was about to do?" He grumbled on, riled up by your creep's presence and stressed that you wouldn't give him the attention he craved.

You thanked him and kept moving. Cyprus had to jog lightly to keep up.

He followed you all the way to the elevator, shooting a nasty look at anyone who went too close to you. They're your neighbors who were once curious as to the gentleman beside you, now fearing the rabid dog you called a colleague.

He constantly has a possessive grip on your shoulders. You wonder if he's suspicious of everyone he comes across in this apartment because of that one creep. You hope that he wouldn't act like this at work, or you would have to visit the HR more than you visit the toilets.

Finally, you reached your room. Because you're drained of life, you struggled longer than usual to unlock your door. Cyprus even had to step in and help out.

Once opened, you turned around to look at him expectantly.

He took your phone out of his pocket and brought it close to you. Of course, you reached out to grab it, only to have his face loom closer and closer to yours.

You squeezed your eyes shut and pursed your lips, but he ended up kissing you on the forehead instead of your mouth.

He pushed your beloved device into your hands.

"Goodnight, beautiful." He whispered. "Have a good rest."

You nodded and closed the door in his face. You couldn't bring yourself to slam it because he protected you from that weirdo.

You let out the biggest breath of relief as you slid down your door into a fetal position.

But that bliss was short-lived when you realized that you left your bag and wallet at his place.

You let out a frustrated scream in your palm as Cyprus descended the stairs with his hands in his pockets, mouth already holding an unlit cigarette.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere x female reader #yandere love #oc cyprus

[frownyalfred]

Question, cause I have an idea I can't shake and I wonder how you think it'd go because your takes are always immaculate, in an injustice style world where Supes goes off the rails and the JL follows him what do you think the Bats would do if Bruce was the one who died?

All of the batkids are alive (none of the kind of weird Damien accidentally killing Dick stuff) and Bruce goes to confront Clark about it and somehow it ends in him dead.

Very distinct scene in my head where Bruce sees it all unfolding and tells the kids he's going to go talk to Clark with very little expectations of success and the next time they see their father it's Kal-el delivering his body to them. Telling them he's sorry, but Bruce didn't understand. He's sure they do though, he's heard them argue with him. They understand sometimes death is necessary.

How do you think they'd react?

(saw some stuff from Suicide Squad Kill the Justice League and was thinking about the Bats and somehow this was born)

Personally I think there would maybe be some murder but you know it's just a little idea

Idk if I'll ever get around to fleshing it out and writing it but it's been plaguing me. I think Alfred deserves to get the final blow, you know if Kal killed his kid. He should be the one with the long range sniper rifle and a clip of kryptonite bullets. He deserves it you know?

I think it all kind of depends on the type of Clark here (is he really Injustice-y yet? is he a straight up dictator when Bruce goes to talk with him, or just warming up?) AND it depends on how Clark explains Bruce's death to the League and the Batkids.

Does Clark kill Bruce out of anger? Is it an unfortunate accident? A little bit of both? If Clark is really falling down the Injustice rabbit hole, he can explain it away as a Joker plot to save face. If he's still Clark, I think he would tell people the truth -- either that it was an accident, or he hit Bruce but didn't mean to kill him, etc.

Sometimes, getting revenge for a loved one's death is about making the person responsible feel your pain and devastation. The Batkids and Alfred will need to evaluate if there's 1) a way to hurt Superman that doesn't end with all of them hurt/dead too and 2) any hope of making Clark feel more guilty/devastated than he already is over Lois, his kid, AND Bruce.

There's nothing like showing up with a big kryptonite blade to kill Superman and him just...agreeing with you? And hating himself for what he did? But a Superman who's falling into that dictator role, who denies responsibility or some responsibility for Bruce's death, who tries to capitalize on it all for his new worldview -- that's a Superman worth fighting against.

If we take the Batkids as Bruce's substitute during the main events of Injustice, then yes. They'll create the insurgency and fight against the regime, in Bruce's memory. But it's an interesting upend of Bruce and Clark's dynamic, since part of their regime/insurgency was always underlaid by the fact that they were/are equals, and once very good friends.

These are Bruce's kids Superman would be hunting down, one by one. Does he restrain himself from killing them, out of some misplaced sense of guilt? Does he want to recruit them away from their insurgency because he knows even one Batkid alive is a huge threat?

All really good questions. Injustice AUs are so much fun, I don't know why there isn't more fic about them!

#asks #anon #bruce wayne #batman #dc #batfamily #clark kent #superbat #superman #injustice #injustice gods among us

[cosmic-spider]

Jax x mexican fem reader

He finds you accent funny( if you have one.) especially when you pronounce stores and other thing.

 He finds it funny when you don’t remember the name of something and you just say  agárra me el dese.(get me the thing) it makes him giggle a bit every time.

On the other hand, he does hate it whenever you take off your shoe and start hitting him with it. (He still doesn’t understand how a slipper or a shoe can become a lethal weapon in less than two seconds.)

He still doesn’t understand how you’re able to hit him perfectly on the head when he’s trying to run away from you before you hit him.( later on starts to ask you how to do it so you can hit other people from far away for a prank)

He loves it whenever you sing in your language either in front of the others, or even just by yourself in your room when you think no one is listening to you.( Not that he will ever tell you he dose)

He keeps your room key very close to him at all times in case he hears you start singing in your room by yourself so he can just come in and or peep through the door and listen to you sing.

I also find it fascinating on how many different ways you can dance just one song. Still doesn’t understand how you can move your feet so fast or so fluently especially your hips.

Almost ever fight the two of you have is just you getting pissed off of his jokes, and you cussing him out in Spanish, which were some reason Caine has not censored. Then him yelling at you saying “I don’t speak Taco Bell! “And then you just get pissed off and just start hitting him with your slippers/shoe.

He does love your cooking on the other hand not that he would actually tell you directly. Every now and then he’ll give a comment, saying it was good, or nice. Will eat through the pain of the spicy food. ( Will be drinking so much milk and water that he can find the moment he get out of you eyesight.)

Still doesn’t understand the nickname you call him by conejo morado.( purple bunny)

As a s/o

Loves it whenever you come to his defense and cuss whoever is bothering him. It warms is heart seeing you do that. You’re actually defending. He covered his face whenever you ask him if he’s OK since he’s blushing under the covered up part of his face with his hand.

Find that funny whenever something goes wrong on the dates that you make for the two of you.

Some of the stories about how you grow up and how your siblings active during parties in for piñata’s terrifying him.

Especially since he’s not a kid person. He could just imagine the horror trying to take care of kids that Literally run around and hit each other over candy that comes out of a piñata.( Wonders how you even survive that growing up)

Find the face smashing into birthday cake, tradition hilarious. Wants to try it on you until you told him the story where you literally gave your cousin a blackeye because of it.( things twice about ruining your birthdays now.)

Purposely does things to piss you off just so you can cause I’m out in Spanish he just stays there and looks at you with a smirk, face and flirts with you more to get your even more pissed off try to run away afterward, but gets hit in the head with a slipper.

Absolutely adores it  whenever you make  pan dulce (Mexican sweet breed.) Hid favorite is conchas, galletas, cono, y poquito with some coffee in the morning.

Finds the stories, you tell him about cookouts, funny and entertaining, especially on long and boring days that he has or when you tell him that someone got into a fight.

Both of you start drama and problems for the others. Then watch it on falls on the sidelines. 

Is always impressed on how fast you can run whenever someone gets abstracted. ( like he’s a rabbit and he can run pretty fast, but damn, can you out run him any day)

Hates it whenever you start the cleaning ritual every Sunday or what you believe. It’s a Sunday.(especially when you start singing and blasting music out of nowhere, or when you go into his room, even though he had all the keys and other ways to get into his room.) Its his nightmare

#the amazing digital circus jax #jax x reader #the amazing digital circus #x reader #mexican #tadc jax #tadc headcanon #tadc x reader #tadc