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#but things she said will stick with me forever
hunnylagoon · 2 days
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The Girl That Time Forgot
Ellie Williams x Reader
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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
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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
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nevernonline · 2 days
Text
✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.
entry #17; happy trails.  
synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.
𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.
𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt
𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.
𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃
word count: 3.2k
note: a fully written chapter for my baddies. 🖤
masterlist ▸ 016 the part we play. ▸ 018 damage control. (coming soon!)
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Keys are jingling in her face as Joshua stands inches above her head. Smiling down at her still trying to buckle the torture device women call heels. 
"Are we ready yet, princess?" 
Y/n didn't respond with words but a big sigh meaning no. Packing her purse frantically while she runs around the apartment in search of lipstick to match the red of her dress. 
“Y/n, you’ll be fine. I would say trust me but I feel like we're beyond that.”
Running back and forth between rooms she still didn’t know what to say to Joshua, she  decided to let the tensions between the two of them go away for the night as they tackle the bigger fish. 
“Josh. I know. Minghao texted me that he’s going to pretend to be on Mimi’s side. He said we have to be careful. I’m just not sure why.” 
“We’re like seven against one. It will be fine.” 
“Will it? Who knows what she’s capable of, she's very capable of taking all of you down to get to me. She proves it all the time. Maybe I just shouldn’t go. This is stupid even entertaining her.” 
“Do you still care about me and Minnie? Even if you don't, you do care about Minghao. I know for a fact if you don’t show up she will blackmail us forever. I also have a feeling she’ll go for Seokmin somehow, she knows he’s weak. If she can’t take you down, she will definitely take him down.” 
“Then let’s end this once and for all, please.” 
Locking her front door, feeling fire in her gut to take down the girl who had done everything in her power to hurt y/n, she couldn’t help but feel like there was something brewing that she wouldn’t be able to come back from. 
With the air around her full of pressure, she sat in silence in the back of the uber next to a friend who used to be her entire world and now was barely a part of it. 
Something about the ride to Mingyu’s bar felt like it was going to be the last time she saw herself like this, full of anxiety about the days going forward, worried that the other shoe will drop. 
When the two of them finally arrived they were met with an obnoxious banner outside the front door, that the bar was closed for an ‘exclusive’ event. 
Seokmin was standing off to the right, clutching his phone in his hand, looking obviously nervous waiting for y/n to arrive. 
She quickly jumped out of the car with a thank you and ran into his arms, holding onto him for dear life before you went inside. 
“You look beautiful, y/n. Perfect revenge dress.” 
“Thank you for being here to help me.” 
“Where else would I be? Hi, Josh.” 
“Hey, Seok. Where are.. You know.” 
“Out back, they parked Won’s car in the staff lot and are waiting back there.” 
“Okay. Cool. Let them know we’ll give them a signal to come in.” 
Walking through the front door, still sticking Seokmin on her arm. Feeling his physical touch to put y/n at ease following behind Joshua. 
There was a table set up at the front, small bags designed for everyone's phones at coat check, the security guard asked to confiscate everything on them including  their bags. 
Getting a deep wondering look in her eyes, Joshua was asking for permission if it's okay, though she was apprehensive to hand over the items that could be useful for her escape if needed she knew but she also knew she had to do it. 
Seokmin told the guard he just had to send a final message, assuming it was to the nerd back in the parking lot, you just sent him a small smile. 
After hanging over the personal items, the three piece crew, much smaller than normal, were handed numbered masks, assumingly part of Mimi’s plan to know who is who. 
“Guys, please stay close. Okay?” 
“We’re not going to leave you, y/n. We promise. 
“Good.” 
Placing their masks over their eyes, Seokmin in something that looked like a green dragon, Joshua a white jester, and y/n a black sparkly mask with two small horns placed over her eyebrows. 
“I see she still has a sense of humor.” 
“I’m not sure if I think this is very funny, y/n.” 
“Humor keeps me living, Shua.” 
“Clever.” 
Walking through the black velvet curtain, there were swarms of people everywhere, some holding trays with champagne and other clear liquids, a parade of dancers on tables, and some party goers looking at the three of them, trying to suss out who they were. 
“How the fuck are we going to find her in here?” 
Y/n leaned into Seokmin’s ear and whispered the things Minghao had told her before she gave up her phone. 
Minghao was supposedly the only male guest in some type of red mask and knowing Mimi it had something to do with the devil. 
“Guys, I’m going to go grab us some drinks, don’t take anything from anyone if they offer you something. She may have spiked a drink since I’m sure she knows you’ve arrived.” 
Joshua was right, y/n hadn’t even thought about the possibility of Mimi doing something dirty to take her out and make her embarrass herself. 
Y/n pulled Seokmin along to the bathroom that was sitting next to the bar, locking them both inside for a moment to talk before their night. 
“Look. Let’s not drink anything, okay? And we can’t eat either. Joshua reminded me of something from that video of me that Mimi had put out at Minghao’s event. She said she could get us some stuff to have a fun night and to loosen me up more so I could go over to Joshuas and lose my virginity.” 
“She’s so sick. Y/n I'm so sorry.” 
“It’s fine. I just don’t want anything to happen to you, because if i-” 
With a small scream from Seokmin and y/n from a small knock on the door, she just yelled out they’d only be a minute, but the knocking persisted. 
“Y/n? It’s Minnie. Let me in.” 
“Uhh, Seokmin is having a bit of a bathroom emergency. Just one second.” 
“Guys. I know you’re lying, just let me in. I know you don’t want to see me. But, please.” 
Unlocking the door and letting Minnie slide through the crack, you noticed her mask as something to be aware of. It was some sort of bunny with pink crusted jewels all around it. 
“What do you want, Minnie?” 
“Seokmin, just let me talk okay?” 
“Fine.” 
“I know you guys don’t want to see me, I’m sure Joshua explained a little bit of what was going on considering you came with him here willingly. Just know I didn’t do it to hurt you, I did it to save myself. I was being selfish. Mimi knew stuff that I have never told anyone, not even the two of you, she was threatening telling my parents and I couldn’t come back from that, they’d nev-” 
“Minnie? We don’t care right now, why did you want to come in here?” 
“Because, I have an idea.” 
“Which is?” 
“Let me trade places with you tonight. Give me your dress and mask. That way whatever she tries to do to you, it’ll be me instead.” 
“But, our hair is different, they took my bag so I don’t have the matching lipstick for you to wear.” 
“Mingyu is doing work in his office, you can go hide in there with him. I have an overnight bag with some stuff in it that you can put on. I think it’ll be better if we're both not out there.” 
“What about Seokmin? And wouldn’t she be suspicious if you’re not out there?” 
“No. When I came to set up, I told her I wasn’t feeling well and that I wanted to go home early. She doesn’t even know he and I are still here.” 
“How do I know this isn’t part of her plan?” 
“Because I didn’t tell her about your friends waiting for you outside and about you and Minghao being friends still? Other than that you just will have to find it in your gut to believe me even if I betrayed you.” 
“Okay.” 
“Y/n are yo-” 
“Seokmin, I’m sure.” 
“Aright. We’ve been in here too long hurry up and change, Joshua is probably confused.” 
“Follow me to the office, we'll swap there.” 
Minnie led y/n and Seokmin down to the end of the hall holding her eagle eye on the room full of party go-ers looking for Mimi before making a clear getaway into the room Mingyu was held up in. 
Unlocking the key to his office door. Minnie swooped her former best friend into the room where Mingyu was sitting at his desk, airpods in his ears, sipping on a beer. 
“Hey.” 
“Hi, Gyu.” 
“Long time no see, y/n. Seokmin.” 
“We miss you, big dog.” 
“I know, Seoky.” 
“Mingyu, y/n is going to stay in here with you while me and Seokmin go around the party. Okay? Keep her safe.” 
“What about Seokmin?” 
“Why does everyone keep asking about me?” 
“Because, you’re the glue.” 
“Aw, Mingyu.” 
“Guys. Turn around so we can change.” 
“Why it’s not li-”
“Mingyu.” 
Y/n giggled at the interaction between Mingyu and Minnie, still unsure if they’re officially together or not, but she had hoped they were. 
Slipping out of their dresses, y/n changed into Minnie's casual clothes, a pair of grey sweatpants and hoodie as Minnie slid into the red dress that fit like a glove. 
“I have makeup wipes and other stuff in my bag, feel free to use it.” 
“Okay.” 
“Ready, Seok?” 
“I think so, but what about Minghao? And the guys?” 
“I can call them for you, I still have my phone.” 
“But, how will you know when?” 
“Cameras.” 
“Wow, no shit. Okay. Be safe.” 
“Seokmin?” 
“Yeah, y/n?” 
“If you see Minghao.” 
“Don’t worry.” 
As y/n was peeling her makeup off, Minnie and Seokmin slipped back out the door they came in from and back into the party hoping to uncover truths for their friends as she was stuck in an office with her old flame, in secret once again. 
“Want a beer?” 
“Please.” 
Mingyu handed over a glass bottle as he popped the top off swiftly, y/n chugged at the golden liquid hoping it would settle her stomach slightly. 
“Minghao, huh?” 
“What?” 
“You guys, are uh? Dating? Friends?” 
“We’re just friends.” 
“For now.” 
“What?” 
“You like him.” 
“I did. I don’t even know anymore.” 
“You do. You just don’t trust him.” 
“Not fully, no. Not yet. I really only trust Seokmin and the guys. Which is sad.” 
“Not even me?” 
“I’ll be honest, I thought you had something to do with it for a while.” 
“Y/n, come on.” 
“I just wasn’t sure. Joshua told me everything. I know you didn’t. I’m sorry I doubted you I guess.” 
“Do you think if all of this never happened things would’ve been different between us?” 
“Maybe. How are you and Minnie?” 
“The same. I think she has a lot of stuff to work out before anything would ever be able to happen seriously.” 
“Like?” 
“A lot of things she should tell you herself, but I don’t like that she hurt you.” 
“Mingyu, you know-” 
“No. I know. It’s silly I still like you after you made it clear to me your feelings, but I can’t help it. I’m competing with your childhood crush and your knight in shining armor I get-” 
“No. Mingyu.” 
Y/n pointed to the screen, watching Minnie approach who y/n thought was maybe Mimi, watching their interaction carefully. Mimi ran her hand over Minnie's masked face and took Seokmin’s hand in hers, jumping a little bit off the ground. Holding her hands out to show them the work she had put in for y/n's birthday. 
“Do you think she knows?” 
“That it’s not you? Maybe. She is a good liar.” 
“She definitely is.” 
Y/n noticed to their side seated at a table was Minghao, something about his demeanor and watchful stance, plus the hint of the red mask, let her into the detail. 
“That’s Hao.” 
“In the red? Where’s Josh?” 
“To the left. White mask.” 
“What do you think they're talking about?” 
“No clue.” 
Mimi handed Seokmin and Minnie drinks off the tray that were brought over and cheered them on as she went to take her spot on the stage to introduce the DJ for the evening and also thank the guests for coming, a sign the party was officially in full swing. 
Y/n and Mingyu kept watching on as Seokmin and Minnie sipped their drinks, when he suddenly stopped her from putting the cup to her lips and swapped their drinks without letting Mimi onto what he was doing. 
“Do you really think she’d drug your or Minnie, but your drinks?” 
“I do. I told Seokmin to be careful. Joshua was the one actually who told me.” 
“Why do you think she hates you so much?” 
“Because I’m the only person who never put up with her shit.” 
“And you’re the only person who can get what she wants but can't have?” 
“Not true.” 
“It is. She wanted Josh, she got him, but really he wanted you. She got Minghao to fall for you unintentionally even though she had him first and wanted him to do her dirty work by lying. She hates you because you’re everything she isn't. Kind and Honest.” 
“I don’t feel that way. I never tell people what I want. Even Seokmin. I don’t know how to tell people my true and honest feelings. I just skirt around them. I act like I’m okay and I’m not. I’m not okay. I sometimes feel like she’s onto something. Maybe she’s helping me go after things I need.” 
“See.” 
“What?” 
“Even though she’s fucking with your life you have compassion enough to say maybe she’s helping you. You’re a good person, y/n.” 
“Maybe.” 
“Trust me. That’s why I fell in love with you.” 
“Don’t. Mingyu, please. Not now.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be.” 
As the pair was sitting and drinking at Mingyu’s desk, they entirely missed Mimi’s devious actions in spiking the drink that belonged to one of their friends.
“Wait. Why is she on stage?” 
“She’s talking.” 
“Do you have sound on your cameras?”
“Yeah, one second.” 
Mingyu unmuted his laptop and watched as Mimi paraded around the stage. 
“Hello, everyone. I’m Mimi, of course. I know you can’t tell under my mask. But, I’m here to celebrate the birthday girl, y/n. She has been in my life for a long time, we were such good friends as kids. Did you know y/n stole my boyfriend? It’s funny, she’s always doing things people don’t expect. I want to bring her up here tonight to let her tell you her story for herself as she turns another year older. y/n? Can you please come to the stage?” 
Seokmin nudged Minnie who was looking unwell, the girl on his side pretending to be someone she wasn’t slinked onto the stage next to Mimi, clearly inebriated. 
Mimi smirked and handed her the microphone, letting her know it was time for a speech. 
“Uh, Hi. Sorry, I’m not feeling well.” 
The crowd of people they may or may not have known the girl who stepped on the stage wasn’t the girl of honor, y/n and Mingyu watched in disbelief holding eachothers hands without realizing it. 
Minnie fell to her knees which prompted Seokmin and other masked guests including Joshua and Minghao to run to her side as the microphone cracked loudly over the speakers. 
Mingyu tugged tightly on y/n’s hand before she forced him to run out to the girl left on the small stage who had fainted. 
Y/n was sitting and watching everything go down when all of the sudden the lights cut out, following the last bit of light from the computer screen. 
“Y/n?” 
“Hello? Who is it?” 
“Aw, are you scared?” 
“Mimi?” 
“Who else?” 
“What's wrong with Minnie?” 
“Oh she’ll be fine. You should know better than to cross me. Bold of you both to go against what I actually had planned, but she meant well. I can't fault her for that."
“What do you want?” 
Y/n felt Mimi’s presence beside her, her breathing slowing more in the faint black room. 
“You. Well, for you to go away.” 
“If I agree to what you want, will you leave my friends alone?” 
“Yeah. I need you to do something for me first.” 
“What is that?” 
“Lie for me.” 
“Why?” 
A flashlight suddenly lit up the room, illuminating both of the girls' faces, Mimi had a sinister smile on her face. 
“Because you owe me.” 
“What do I need to do? And before I agree you have to promise me all of them will be okay.” 
“I promise.” 
"So?"
“I need you to go, I need you to find somewhere out of the city. I’ll tell your friends the rest. I put a bag in my car out front. It has everything, your phone, your wallet. Just get in and drive. I don’t care where you go, but just know if you show back up or contact them. I’ll find you. I’ll handle everything else.” 
“How do I know I can trust you?” 
“Hm. I’ll give you this.” 
Mimi handed y/n a small pink zip drive hooked onto her key unit. Something for her to hold onto. She took it in the palm of her hand and shoved it inside the pocket of Minnie’s sweats. 
“Can I ask you a favor if I do this?” 
“I guess. What is it?” 
“Take care of Seokmin and Jun. Even if you don’t get too close to them, just make sure they are alright. Everyone else can handle themselves. I just need to know the two of them will be okay.” 
“Yes, y/n. Your bitch boys will be well taken care of.” 
“Okay.” 
Y/n took the keys from the top of Mingyu’s desk, ready to make her exit as the tears welled up in her eyes. 
“Y/n?” 
“What?” 
“Aw, don't cry. I just need you to sign this letter I wrote. So they think it's from you.” 
Y/n took the pen from Mimi, only reading the first few words of the fake letter meant for her friends and signed her name at the bottom. Maybe it wasn’t right, but she knew if she ever got the chance to apologize they’d understand. 
“Actually can I ask you for one more thing before I go, Mimi?” 
“Yep.” 
“Why does it have to be like this?” 
“Well because I know if I don’t force you out I’ll never get what I want. Good luck, y/n. You’ll need it.” 
“Thanks. I guess.” 
Y/n slipped out the back door of Mingyu’s bar for what she thought would be the last time. She took a deep exhale watching her breath follow the wind as she walked to Mimi’s car and slammed the door shut behind her. Finally letting the tears fall from her face before she started it and drove away. 
She made a promise to herself as she left, just minutes until she became a year older. That somehow she’d find her way back, even though she may be picking up the pieces of what she left behind.
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note: my girl y/n going thru it?? everyone going thru it?? ik she's not a text chapter but I hope u enjoy!! (also fully writing my author note low-key drunk?) anyway! after the next two chapter + the epi my big gawg is ending (sad?) but I hope u all will enjoy my pfd fic etc sorry it took me so long to get her up I wanted her to be good! ok! (steam nct dream smoothie ?? or unknown the whole album hits ily??)
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taglist: @sun-daddy-yoriichi@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo@minhui896@wonwooz1@porridgesblog@jasssy051@soonyoungblr@saucegirlreads@musingsofananxiouspotato@young-adult-summer@punkhazardlaw@bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo@k-drama-adict@90s-belladonna@blaycke@dnylwoo@to-mi-yo, @nonononranghaee
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gumballavocadoharry · 23 hours
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Kindergarten crush:
Abby came through the door, eyes glistening, rhythm in her step, hair with extra bounce and lips stick in a shimmery smile. Harry turned from the table, scanning his daughter's face up and down with his own sweet smile. "Hello bunny, how was school?"
"Wonderful! He's amazing!" An arch tore across Harry's eyebrow, "He?" Abby sat closer to her father, "Paul. Paul Haskins. He has the biggest brown eyes ever!" Abby skipped to her bedroom, leaving behind a perplexed Harry at the dining table. Yn shuttled only a few minutes in the door. "So, Paul?" Harry nodded, watching Yn setting her purse down on the couch. Harry took a deep breath, "Paul this and Paul that...what does Abby see in boys anyway?"
Yn allowed a smirk to ring through her cheeks, "Since when do you have a problem with boys?" "Abby is too young to be considering any of that stuff now," Harry waved his hand, completely disparaging the notion. Yn tilted her head a little, "Paul's a nice boy. I met his mother and she's very nice." Harry scoffed, "Well... still."
Dinner time was filled with Abby's giggles and Harry's funny stories. Slurping her spaghetti, Abby's eyes gave way to a twinkle, "Spaghetti is Paul's favorite food. His mommy makes it for him all the time." Harry's grip on his fork tightened. "He gave some to me at school the other day, along with part of his oatmeal raisin cookies."
"What about daddy's grilled cheese sandwiches with extra cheese?" Harry's eyes scanning his little daughter's for maybe even an ounce, of excitement or validation. "It's good too, though." Harry gave his puppy pout like he usually did whenever something upset him. After the dinner dishes were cleared, Harry was parked at the sink scrubbing away at his more than clean plate. "Harry," He turned slightly on his name before turning back to the sink. "Paul, Paul, Paul... that's all she ever thinks about now."
Yn rubbed his back, "She just has a little crush right now, Harry. She still loves you...." Harry dropped the sponge into the sink, "She loves Paul right now, Yn," He unplugged the sink. "Abby was crazy about me before.... Paul came around..." Harry said his name like it was dreadful gulp of saline flavored medicine. "Harry.... Abby is still crazy about you.... she's always going to need you... and Paul's not going to take that away." Harry let a smidge of reassurance creep into him, urging a smile across his face.
That night, Harry peeked into Abby's room where she was sound asleep. He snuck in- hovering over her little limp body, tucking back a stray piece of hair that slinked across face. "My little princess," He whispered to himself, "My forever little princess." Harry bent down and planted a soft kiss to her cheek before tiptoeing out of the room.
The next afternoon, Yn had left to pick Abby up from school. She walked to her classroom where she saw Abby and Paul talking and laughing with each other. They walked out to their cubbies together, before they parted ways with their respective parent. "Is he nice?" Yn asked, "Very! He said he would draw me a picture tomorrow at school!"
"That's great sweetie!" Yn lifted her 5 year into her arms. That night, Abby was so excited, that Yn thought for sure her head would explode. Harry sulked in his chair watching Abby go on and on about Paul. "Maybe we could draw a picture together too baby?" Abby shot her father a smile before turning her attention back to the TV. Harry was quiet the rest of the night. Instead, he made a silent vow to pick Abby up from school the next day, as to point Paul out from the class. But things were different.
Abby ran to Harry as usual but was unusually quiet. "Hey Abby, how was school Pumpkin? Did.... Paul make you the picture he promised?" Abby shook her head. Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "He didn't?" She fell into his arms and cried. "He likes Angie better! He drew her the picture instead!" Harry lifted Abby into his arms. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry to hear that!" "I thought he liked me!"
"It'll be okay Abby," Harry cooed, "Daddy likes you..." Abby wiped the tears from her cheeks, "Daddy loves you to be exact." Abby looked down at the pavement of the parking lot. "Why don't me and you go get an afternoon snack? Does Dairy Queen sound good?" A smile grew on Abby's face. "Oh yeah!"
Yn set the Tv remote down upon hearing the front door open. Crinkles of paper bags sounded loudly through the house. "I bought us dinner," Harry said, setting the bag on the kitchen island. "Oh, and Abby and Paul are no longer an item." Yn raised an eyebrow, "You're happy about that, aren't you?" He shrugged, wearing a cheeky dimply ear to ear smile. "Maybe..." He held up her ice cream sundae.
"Hungry?" Yn playfully shook her head before digging into to her frozen treat. "How's Abby doing?"
"Well, she was sad at first- Paul had drew a picture for this girl in her class, Angie, instead- but once I asked if she wanted Dairy Queen, she perked right up." He turned to see Abby eating her chicken tenders and fries while watching TV. "It all worked out for the best it seemed."
Yn let a smile crawl across her face. She had a wonderful husband who was a wonderful father too.
*Sorry if this is cringey, I'm working on A LOT right now. *
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vvanessaives · 1 year
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me doing completely normal things vs. my mother telling me to not do them since i was 5 y/o bc "that's smth men do"
#rena.txt#well maybe i'm a girl i'm a boy i'm a squid in this giant aquarium called earth!!!!#and i'm talking about such normal things. when i was 5 she gave me shit bc i really liked a movie we had on videotape that in her opinion#was 'for boys'. it's crazy how some things of your childhood stick with u forever it's like i can still hear her say 'you shouldn't watch#that it's for boys'. it was a silly movie about robots or smth like that. and to this day she still gives me shit for my hair and says#they are too short. when i was 17 she said 'with hair like that you look like a boy. no man will ever want you' WHO TF CARES!!!!!#i've been dipping into randomly using he/him in italian for myself lately. he/she/whatever the fuck bc we don't have they in italian. yea#idk what's up with all of that and tbh i'm scared of a journey about discovering gender just as i was scared when i began discovering my#sexuality. like gun pointed at my head if you asked me to pick a pronouns i would tell u to pull the trigger. that's why i don't have any#on my profile/bio but the absence also makes me upset bc then i'm scared that ppl will just assume i use she/her and like. tbh i don't mind#any pronouns but the idea that someone would immediately pick she for me makes me sick. i don't feel like a woman i don't feel like a man i#feel like nothing at all but also much more than the stupid gender binary shit. idk i'm scared of calling myself nb i'm scared of discovery#ok i began crying after typing this i guess that i care about this more than i thought ops lmao
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cr0wc0rpse · 5 months
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I’m just having a shit time and feeling pretty miserable lately and I’ve been trying to not think too much about it or let it soak but it still gets in through the cracks. And earlier today I was reminded that 1 year ago today I got out of the hospital after my suicide attempt. Which just kind of makes me feel worse. I was miserable then and I’m still miserable now. Almost nothing has actually changed since then, both within me, personally and my life, and outside of me. It’s still the same
#this is brought on by the last post I reblogged#I already rambled about this in my mood tracker journal thing but . damn. is this just forever#it’s so hard to believe I’m ever going to ACTUALLY get better. or that things will ACTUALLY change#the only main difference between a year ago and now is that I dropped out of college. that’s about it#and the thing is that there’s stuff I could (and should) be doing to change stuff. I need to try harder#but it is so difficult for no reason at all. I can barely even take care of myself lately#so so so much of my life is fully in my hands and I just need to TRY and START and GO. I know this. I’m incredibly aware of this#I just can’t fucking get myself to do anything or feel anything or care enough to make a good consistent effort#I want to!! I really really fucking want to do things and change things and Get Better and Make Progress#god. anyway. the post I reblogged before this made me cry because of my recent attempt and thinking about how I’m currently fairing#but also because of how my parents are handling how I am right now. and I do think it’s justified. but it still hurts#I barely got that kind of response (like the post) from my parents after my attempt#although I’m not sure what I expected. or even what I wanted from them#sometimes I still think about how my mother acted/responded to me both before I willingly admitted myself and during my attempt#it hurts. it hurts a lot. I still feel so fucking stupid for thinking she’d react in a sympathetic or empathetic or kind or compassionate#and then last month was she said something about me killing myself in an almost mocking way. as if it’s something to make light of#I feel like screaming. I feel awful and nothing is different and I know I need to make it different myself and just try harder#but sometimes I think that if I could actually get better then I would’ve by now. or at least would’ve started improving somewhat#I have tried. there’s a lot of things I’ve tried. and I really want to get better and not be like this anymore and have things change#nothing ever seems to help or stick or do enough though. I throw myself at a wall and when I can manage to stand I do it again#ok. ending this post now. I wrote a lot#dead text
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ff2-soda-pop · 1 year
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having. bad moment today alright-
#everything in class was too overwhelming to the point i couldnt even talk anymore and i couldnt leave and i didnt wanna stim because then#people would See Me and stuff so i just sat there suffering with that.#and then ig we're preparing for Finals but i barely have understood this whole class because it goes Too Fast for me and im scared im gonna#fail and i cant fail otherwise im gonna get the help w/ the financial stuff taken away and thats basically gonna screw me over big time but#idk what im doing!! and then the teacher said things about like 'oh if you say you're not taking this again next semester i'll take off#points' BUT IDK IF SHE WAS SERIOUS OR NOT?????? like shes generally pretty nice but like i cant tell if she was kidding or not at all but i#dont wanna ask because no one else seemed confused by it and i dont wanna stick out so i just. am confused#also im scared if i fail this class my mom'll get pissed because shes very insistent that i am the 'normal' one and so i 'have' to go to#school ad basically live life like a Normal Allistic Person which. is bullshit but thats besides the point#and my only class rn is japanese which until now ive been consistently GOOD at so if i fail that my mom'll probably get Extra pissed at me#for it because of that. also trying to ask for help hasnt worked so good so far because i tried and the teachers like 'you're doing fine!#dont worry about it :D' and im like 'i have barely understood anything for weeks on end but idk how to argue you on this and it feels rude#to try and be like No Actually Wrong' so then i just. dont say anything#also i still have no accommodations because i still havent gotten copies of papers i need and they wont let me do anything until i have#those copies of things from older schools before i went here. EVEN THOUGH IM LITERALLY DIAGNOSED AND AM STRUGGLING BUT APPARENTLY PAPERS#FROM OLD SCHOOLS ARE THE ONLY THING THAT CAN 'PROVE' I NEED HELP???? WHICH MAKES NO SENSE TO ME BUT ANYWAYS-#anyways everything is too much and i wanna curl up in a ball and just kinda stay like that forever#vent
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nonpoppin · 2 months
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One More Chance
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Summary: Farleigh doesn't want to lose you.
Warnings: Cheating, drug use, drinking, slapping (you dont get slapped!!), oral (f receiving!), pussy eating, overstimulation (?), talks of stds, P in V sex, lemme know if i forgot anything.
Notes: Guess who's back and being ANNOYING! Lord when i say this took me forever to write and it's long. Whatever, but hi this is like 5k+ words not including notes, warnings or summary! Enjoy!! Leave comments n all that!! ALSO Shout-out to @cocoamoonmalfoy for putting up with me while i wrote this 😭 okay im running away now.
PART TWO
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You think you're getting too old for clubbing.
Everything is so loud, dizzying, and sweaty and your outfit sticks to you uncomfortably. You pull at the laces, at the latex that annoyingly catches against the meat of your thighs as you sway to the music. Annabel, seemingly ignorant to your stiff movement, leans her whole body against you, grinding to the beat of the song, and out of instinct you wrap your arm around her waist and pull her closer. She melts into your arms then without missing a beat, she turns her head and even with the flashing lights you can see that her mascara runs, “You used to be good at this.”
You swallow thickly. You were good at this— clubbing, partying, getting so drunk you'd feel it the next morning but he had to ruin it for you, take the fun out of partying. “Sorry,” You say, nosing against her ear, “It’s just a lot.” Her hands clench over yours, her lashes fluttering.
“You didn't have to come.”
But you did. You couldn't spend nights in your dorm crying for the rest of the semester, not when you had an image to uphold. People were talking, half the campus knew that something happened between you and Farleigh, something bad enough for you to suddenly drop him and his family despite the looks he still sent you whenever you were in the same room. You had to come, if not for yourself, for Annabel who's going through the same thing as you, even if the cousin she got stuck with was a lot more cruel about what he did. “Couldn’t let you do this alone,” You smile. Couldn't let her sit in her dorm and cry over Felix who dropped her for India, she had lost two people in one night(—her boyfriend and best friend.) and while you two weren't the closest before this, you're friends— someone who understood what it was like to date a Catton.
Annabel smiles, turning to face you and it makes you laugh, her lipstick is smeared. You reach out and wipe out at it and she watches, her smile slipping off her face as her lip begins to wobble, “I wish I met you first.”
You smile and it's twinge with sadness. “You don't like girls, Anna.”
She shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes. It's been off and on all night and the booze running through her system isn't making it better. “I could though, I could like you.” She sniffles, “It’s not fair. I could have loved you instead but I'm here and– and crying over him while he's probably off fucking her in some dark corner. He said it was all a bit of fun– that we had the rest of our lives and it was wrong to tie him down when– when there was so much to experience. You would have thought I asked him to marry me, I just–”
Her face falls, “I just wanted him to be my boyfriend.”
Then, it's like a switch flips in her because she suddenly gags, lurching forward. You jump back in fear of getting puked on but she claps her hands over her mouth, pushing you and others out of the way and runs to what you hope is a bathroom. You stare after for a few moments, making sure you can actually see her go into the women's bathroom and when she does, you look away with a deep sigh, a hand running down your face. She's done this twice already and you know when she comes back this time, you'll cut your losses and drag her back to bed before she gets alcohol poisoning.
Politely, you try to dance your way off the middle of the dancefloor. You smile at people who seem to know you, they say your name in greeting and quickly go back to their dancing and just when you're at the cusp of exiting the crowd, a hand grabs yours. You jerk, whirling around and—
“Oliver, what the hell?” You snap over the music, you yank your hand free and his face falls. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Felix sent me over!” He shouts over the music then he draws closer to you, forcing you to take a step backward and out of the crowd. “Said you'd punch him if he came over–” Well, he's not wrong. “–and he said he needed your help, Farleigh–”
Your face crumples at the mention of your ex-boyfriend and you're already shaking your head, “No, Oliver–”
“Oh, love, come on–”
“I already told him I wanted nothing to do with him or his family-!” You quiet yourself when you notice the looks you're starting to get when you notice the group of kids near you quiet down as if to listen in. “Just no, Oliver. I can't leave Anna alone for too long–”
Oliver instantly begins to look around, “Annabel is here?”
You frown, “Yeah. Why?”
Oliver makes a face, “I have to chat with her too,” You start to sneer and he throws his hands up, his face paling. “Not for Felix, I swear. I just– we need to talk, how about we switch off– I stay with Anna and you go find the guys–”
“No. She's fucking drunk I'm not leaving her with you–”
“Oliver!”
Annabel appears from down the hall behind you, smiling as if she didn't spend the past few minutes puking up her stomach. She slides up next to you, bleary eyes peering at the both of you, “What are you doing here, Ollie?”
Your eyes narrow on him. The girl beside you is looking to make some mistakes tonight— trying to make someone jealous and while she didn't like girls, she loved boys and Oliver happened to be pretty and a close friend of Felix. You roll your lips together, eyes flickering to her when she prowls closer to him, and Oliver's hands clench and unclench at his side. She'd be picking the wrong friend to do this with, Oliver obviously had a thing going for Felix and Felix wanted something from Oliver, Farleigh had told you as much. Felix was still experimenting with his sexuality and didn't want to be kept in the straight category when he liked boys too, he had liked Eddie before he slept with Venetia and gave him head allegedly so bad, that he was gone from Saltburn by sunrise.
But that's neither here nor there, not when Oliver smiles at Annabel and you can see traces of Felix in it. It looks too practiced and painted and when he speaks to be heard over the music, it's like his accent changed to match the tallest Catton. “I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if you don't mind–”
“Annabel–”
The girl cuts you off with a big, lipstick-smudged smile. “Of course, we can talk. I think I was just about to go back to campus, walk with me?” Then she looks back to you as if to say; ‘Relax, it's only Oliver.’
A little annoyed she's ditching you so quickly for a chance at fucking Oliver, you snap your mouth shut. It's only Oliver and that's what worries you, maybe you're being paranoid or maybe, Farleigh stuffed your head full of nonsensical claims but there's something weird about Oliver, like he's pretending to be something he's not. “Fine– just, just call me when you get back okay? If you don't I'm calling S.W.A.T on the place.”
Annabel smiles and presses a kiss on your cheek, “Thank you for being my very American guard dog tonight.” Then, to Oliver, “Let’s go, yeah?”
Oliver clasps hands with her, letting her pull him from the club but not before he turns to you and looks past the moving dance floor, “They’re all the way in the back, got a private room. You should go.”
You scowl at him, “Fuck off, Ollie.”
He smiles at you and it's like he knows you're gonna cave and go before you even decide to do so. And once you lose sight of Oliver and Annabel, you count to ten before you turn and push your way through the crowd trying to get to the private section behind them. Once you breach the crowd again, the security guards posted outside the private section only glance at you and then away, stepping out of your path as you pass them. You swallow at the feeling that evokes— that power that came with being seen with a Catton, a cousin or otherwise, was nauseating. You could ask those guards to do whatever you wanted and they would in hopes of a good tip, you could murder someone back here and they'd turn a blind eye because at the end of the day, if you weren't a friend of the Cattons’, you were against them and no one who stood against them survived very long.
You stop outside the door and you realize it's quieter back here. You can still hear the music from the club, yes, but if you pressed your ear against the door, you could hear crying. You could hear Felix talking, shuffling, and then more crying, choked and muffled and you think he's trying to silence himself and you ignore the way your heart aches. You should have ‘died’ a while ago. Should've been cast aside the moment you broke up with Farleigh and cursed Felix out, but they kept you close. Their gold-coated talons had dug too deep, you saw too much blood and bone, you saw too much of the real them and knew, in a way they'd never let you go. No matter what you did or said.
You take a breath and open the door.
Felix is crouching in front of Farleigh, his hands cupping his face as the man before him cries so hard, he heaves. He's cooing, using his thumbs to rub soothing circles on his cheeks, “It's okay, mate. It's okay, you just got to breathe– yeah, that's it, Far, just breathe with me.”
Your hand clenches around the knob and you clear your throat, praying your voice sounds uncaring.“Is he high?”
Both men look up, Felix faster than Farleigh but that doesn't stop the other man from staggering to his feet at the sight of you. “Baby,” He hiccups, he walks to you— stumbling and nearly tripping in the process and you enter the room, closing the door before any passersby can see. Farleigh reaches you and his eyes flutter, tears freely falling from his eyes as he sinks to the floor before you, his arm winding around your waist and his face placed firmly against your stomach. He's still crying, you note but he's mumbling too, “You came. You came back.”
Your hands clench at your sides to hide their shaking, you won't touch him. Even as he unbalances you and presses you flush against the door, you don't touch him as he cries which means, you won't push him away either, so you settle on ignoring him instead, your eyes on Felix who's still crouching. “Felix, is he high?”
The man sighs, running a hand through his hair before he stands, rolling his shoulders. You can't decide if he looks pissed that you actually showed or happy to see you after weeks of no communication. He looks like he's forcing himself to frown, “You’d want that, wouldn't you? Give you another reason to run away from him.”
You flinch as if he hit you and Farleigh holds you tighter, pulling you closer to him, “You don't get to say that, Felix. You don't even know what fucking happened.”
“Exactly!” He bursts. Its loud enough he throws a glance at the door, he takes a breath and you hear him struggle to keep his voice level. “I don't know what fucking happened between the two of you and he won't tell me. You won't tell me. Then, I try to call you– try to make it right and you– you fucking blocked me?”
“There’s no making this right, Felix. You can't fix everything–”
“Yes, I can!” He insists, his voice raising. “I did so before when you two fought, I did it when your scholarship fell through and you were going to get kicked from Oxford, I fixed it when Farleigh and you went streaking through the bloody campus, I can fix this but you have to tell me what happened– you just– you're family now and we just don't drop each other, we don't block each other and don't answer when the other comes knocking for answers. Just let me fix this because all I know– all I know is Farleigh fucking flushed it, okay? Flushed it all down the loo and hasn't been high in weeks and it's been fucking hell, he's been such a prick about it always snapping and blowing up over the littlest things. I can't even mention you without him trying to bite my head off.
“Please. Just tell me what happened. That's all I ask, that's all I want to know, we used to tell each other everything. We used to be friends.” He pleads.
Annoyed you snap, “He cheated on me.”
Felix draws back, surprised. “What?”
You lick your lips, trying to force the memory from your mind and Farleigh starts to cry again, he tries to curl into you, trying to bury his face and cover his ears. If he's not high, he's drunk out of his mind and you're not sure what's better, he's always been a bit of a baby when drunk, clingy, and emotional. You used to have patience for it, you used to be able to stare at him without wanting to cry, “He cheated on me with Alicia. He and her got super fucking high after I begged him to just stay in my dorm with me instead of going out and I don't know– they fucked, I guess.” You look down at Farleigh and try to force that image out of your head, how he came to you already crying and begging for forgiveness, he said he didn't even know what happened, how he even ended up alone with Alicia but the damage was done. You broke up with him then and there.
Felix makes a face like he sucked on a lemon. “Farleigh wouldn't do that. Not to you, there has to be a misunderstanding– there– Farleigh, mate, tell me it's not true.”
Farleigh doesn't answer and you didn't really expect him to, not with the desperation coating his cousin's voice. For a moment, Felix looks more hurt than you and you understand it— he had been the one to get you both together, two Americans in Oxford why not stick together, he had invited you to Saltburn last year where Farleigh worked up the nerve to kiss you whilst Felix and Venetia cheered from a balcony above. Felix in the course of it all, became your friend because you never asked for his wealth, never asked for gifts or privileges, and the only thing you ever asked for was notes in a class you shared. Notes that he had never taken before then but started taking almost instantly after and the rest was history.
“Fucking Christ, mate.” Felix curses, he's shaking his head at his cousin. He looks at you, then past you frowning, “Where is Oliver?”
“He left with Anna.”
Felix freezes, “What?”
“He took Annabel home, you remember Anna, don't you? Your ex-girlfriend?”
“We weren't dating.” Felix snaps then shakes his head, “Look I gotta go find Oliver–”
“What? No, you have to stay with Farleigh–”
“I don't even want to be in the same room as him right now. Leave him with the security guards, he'll be fine come morning.”
He kisses your cheek, ignoring your protest as he storms from the room, slamming the door behind him. You think he has no right being this angry when he did something worse but Felix sees himself differently from everyone else, and sometimes it took someone copying his actions to see how fucked up he treated someone.
With a sigh, you look down at Farleigh who somehow managed to doze off in all the bickering, slumped heavily against your smaller figure. You hesitate for a second before attempting to push a hand through his hair and get annoyed when it doesn't go through as it usually would— he wasn't taking care of himself but you can't say you were doing so either. You frown, debating.
“Fuck it, Farleigh wake up, we're going back to my room.”
He only groans against you and you know the hangover he gets tomorrow will hurt.
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A part of you missed sleeping next to Farleigh.
You always ran cold and he ran hot, he'd tangle himself around you and pull you flush against his body and the warmth that bloomed made you feel like you were a bear waking from hibernation each morning. You'd shake the sleep from your bones while he'd grumble and try to pull you closer to him, trying to coax you back to bed.
A part of you missed it and you'd probably always miss it but you knew where you stood with Farleigh, you couldn't– you wouldn't go back.
He shifts next to you, his head falling off the pillow and resting in the crook of your neck, his lips ghosting over your pulse that steadily picks up the closer he draws. You've been awake for an hour now, passively texting Annabel as she updates you on her almost sleeping with Oliver, how she managed to give him a handjob (— she took several minutes to describe the size, shape, and feel of his dick to you.) before Felix burst in and dragged him out. You turn away from Farleigh, arm tucking under your pillow as you debate telling Annabel that Felix only showed up to drag Oliver out because he wanted to be the first one to fuck Oliver.
But you remember how eagerly she ditched you for Oliver. You remember how the two of you were just friends, barely acquaintances if you took away all the conversations about Felix or Farleigh so instead, you huff, turning off your phone and chucking it away from you. Farleigh follows your movement, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back against him, his leg slotting between your legs and you freeze.
“Farleigh?”
The man hums, pushing his leg higher in an attempt to pull you closer and a startled breath leaves you. That shouldn't feel good, you won't let it show that it does. You shift, subtly trying to lift your weight from him, “If you can hear me, you should leave. Classes start soon and–” His leg presses higher, directly against your clothed cunt and you jerk, fingernails digging into the arm around your waists. “Farleigh–”
“I missed you.” He whispers against the skin of your neck and you shiver but trying to twist away only makes you grind against his leg or back against him if the breathy groan he lets out is anything to go by. “Can we– can we talk?”
“This isn't talking, this is–” He begins to kiss your neck, tongue swiping across your pulse before he nips at your skin and you nearly choke on your words. “You can't fuck this better, Farleigh. You– I don't even know if you're clean anymore.”
He stills against you and it allows you to pull yourself from his arms, to twist and sit up over him as your heart pounds. You should get out of bed, you think when he stares up at you with wide brown eyes, You should kick him out. You do neither, at least, not yet. Not when he's this close and staring at you like that. “I am,” He finally says and his voice breaks, he blinks quickly, shifting. “I got tested. Twice. I can show you–”
“No.” You say quickly, “No, it's fine. It's not like it matters anymore.”
Farleigh frowns up at you. “It does matter, baby. I shouldn't have– I shouldn't have fucked Alicia, okay? And I know you don't want to hear it but I was high.”
You instantly look away, hands clenching and unclenching. He wants to talk, fine, you could talk. “So that makes it okay?” You ask, “What if I got high and fucked Oliver, huh? Would you be okay with that?”
Farleigh scowls. “It’s not the same thing and you know it. Oliver is a fucking freak and I've told you that–”
“And I told you to stay.” You snap, “Stay in my dorm with me, spend time with me, fuck me. But you went out and fucked Alicia– so excuse me if I don't give a fuck about what you said about Oliver.”
The both of you sit in silence for a minute and you are the first to break it with a sigh, “Just leave, Farleigh. This isn't good for–”
“Do you want to get even with me?” He asks, sitting up. His eyes search your face, looking for…something. “Do you want to fuck Oliver?”
You gape at him, “Are you fuckin’ insane? No!”
“Felix, then. Do you want to fuck him?” He asks, his voice shaking. “‘Cause I'd let you. I'd let you fuck whoever you wanted if it meant you'd come back to me once you were finished.”
You try to get out of bed but he stops you, grabbing your hand and pulling you back in. A gasp rips out of you as you tug your arm away from him, anger pooling in your gut, “Do you hear how fucking pathetic you sound?!” He reaches for you again and you smack his hand away, “Don't fucking touch me!”
“Baby–”
“No!” You shout and when you stand, this time he doesn't stop you, only rushing to follow. “You can't do this shit, Farleigh. I didn't do this to us– I didn't fucking cheat on you!”
“I know–” He tries but you can't hear him, your heart is beating too fast, and your head is pounding. You're sure you're sweating in your effort to keep steady on your feet, to meet his eyes.
“You need to leave, Farleigh. We're done.”
“We’re not.” He insists, stepping closer to you. “Baby, I love you–”
You slap him before you can even stop yourself and you regret it as soon as you do. His head snaps to the side and his jaw flexes as he processes what you've done. He shakes his head, his hand coming to ghost across the reddening skin of his cheek before it drops, his eyes blown wide as he stares at you and you stare back, your hand falling to your side.
You have two seconds to brace yourself. To lock your knees and not bend against his body crashing against yours, his lips on yours as he backs you against the door. He kisses you like he misses you— like he's sorry for everything, for hurting you, for existing. His teeth bite into your bottom lip and when you feel the skin break, you turn your head with a sigh, allowing the man to kiss down your neck. “I’m so fucking sorry,” He mumbles against your skin, “So, so, sorry–”
He sucks a hickey into your skin and your hands clench at the fabric of his shirt, “Farleigh?” He hums, “That’s not how you're supposed to apologize.”
He drops to his knees before you without so much as a blink. He's nosing against your pajama shorts, his hands sliding up your thighs to pull at your waistband. “Take it off.” He orders, tugging at the material and the tone of his voice makes you frown and when he sees this, his tongue swipes across lips as he looks up to you. “Take it off, please.”
And you do so easily, giggling when Farleigh kisses your hands as you do. You push Farleigh back to kick off your shorts and the man leans forward between your legs, placing an open mouth kiss on your pussy– his tongue finding home almost immediately to flick against your clothed clit. “Oh– fuck, wait, wait–” You bend, trying to push him away once more but he shakes your hand off and pushes his face closer, mouth suctioning over your cunt. You thread your fingers through what hair you can, a choked moan leaving you before y anking him away from you, ignoring his choked groan. “Farleigh, what the fuck–?”
“I missed you,” He says, his lips parting as he pants, trying to shift closer to you. “Missed your pretty pussy too.”
Your fingers curl against his scalp, nails ghosting flesh and he moans. It's a filthy sound that makes something hot and warm pool in your gut— makes a breath punch out of your lungs. You missed him but you realize it's deeper than that, that this feeling— this want is something primal and it mixes with the anger that still lingers within you, it mixes and it makes you want to hurt him as much as you want to fuck him. “You’re so fuckin’ greedy,” You mumble, your whole body warm. “You’d eat me whole if I'd let you.”
One hand still in his hair, you use it to pull him further away from your pussy and he goes easily, watching wide-eyed as you use your other hand to pull your panties to the side. You can't bring yourself to be embarrassed about how wet you are, Farleigh has seen you naked dozens of times and you're sure half the wetness is his saliva that leaked through the thin fabric but this time it's different. He stares at you and your pussy like it made the stars, the sun, and the moon and he waits— panting, sweating, his dick straining against his jeans, looking up at you with big brown eyes. It's a good look on him, you decide, this obedience. You move your hand, fingers parting your soaked folds, “Apologize.”
And god, he does so eagerly. He jerks forward, his hands finding purchase with the meat of your thighs as he drags you forward, closer to his mouth. His tongue licks, circling your clit. You bow away from his mouth out of instinct, moans tumbling from your lips and he follows, riding the waves your hips roll to— you back away from the pleasure and he drags you forward, making you ride his tongue with each twitch. “Oh my god,” You whisper, whimpering as you roll your hips. You feel Farleigh smile against you before he slips, his nose replacing his tongue against your clit as he uses both tongue and fingers to fuck you open. “Oh my– O-oh fuck–” You clench around him, your muscles tightening and he parts them as if you're made out of wet tissue, slurping and drinking up the mess you leak onto his hand.
Your body curls away from him and he twists with you, hooking a leg over his shoulder and pressing you flush against the door, his tongue shoved up your pussy and nose against your clit and shakes his head and you nearly scream. You're so wet you can hear yourself, hear flesh sliding against flesh, hear his near-silent moans. His fingers curl into you, snagging against something that makes your legs weak and makes you babble out his name and he finds it again with a little prodding and bullies it with his fingers, rubbing and twisting till you're gasping, grinding down, and chasing the pleasure instead of running from it, “Oh sh-sh-it!” You cry, trying to pull him closer as you hump against his face, “You’re gonna m– I'm gonna–” Your lashes flutter as Farleigh shifts to kneel, hiking you further up the door and forcing you to grind down harder against his tongue and nose.
With a sharp cry, you cum. Your chord snapping as the warmth inside of you boils over. Farleigh makes you ride it out, keeping you closing and still working his tongue through your folds as you come down, he hums— drinking what you give him as your legs shall, and disbelieving giggles leave you. He's slow to stand, kissing his way up your shaky body, slowly coaxing the rest of your clothes off before he meets your lips and you taste yourself on his tongue. “You forgive me?” He asks, once he pulls away and he's still somewhat crouching to be able to look in your eyes, a smug smile pulling at his lips.
You force yourself to frown, to look annoyed despite your shaking legs and racing heart. “Did you make her cum, too?”
Farleigh has the audacity to groan. He hooks his arms around your waist and stands to his full height, lifting you easily and it sends a thrill down your spine. He wraps your legs around his waist as he carries you back to your bed, his teeth ghosting against your collarbone. “Does it fucking matter?”
“Yeah.” You say with a pout as he drops you on your mattress. You watch as he begins to strip, his shirt goes first, then his belt, and he slowly unbuttons his jeans clearly deep in thought so he doesn't notice your impatient looks. You watch eagerly as they drop and his hand slips into his boxers, clearly fisting himself. “Farleigh, did you make her cum?”
“I don't fucking know.” He admits with a frown, “I don't think so. Doesn't matter either. She didn't make me cum,” He lets out a little near-silent moan and you watch the fabric move over his fist, “Haven’t cummed since you left, not even when I touched myself. Closest I got was when I was thinking of you but it's not– fuck, it's not the same, baby. Missed you so bad I nearly fucked a hole into my mattress thinking of you.”
You bite your lip at his words. You bite it harder when he finally pulls down his boxers and his dick springs free and it is weeping, red at its tip and leaking. He rolls his thumb over the head of it before jerking his hand away when his hips try to buck against the feeling. “You’re sick.”
He fucking moans. “Say it again when my dick is in you.” He asks and despite the teasing smile on his face, you have a feeling he's deadly serious. He drops down to the bed, his lips once again connecting with yours. Farleigh rolls his hips against yours, his dick sliding against your pussy and the friction is not enough— you're too wet for it to be grinding at this point and you mumble this against his lips. Farleigh snickers, “There’s no such thing as being too wet.”
You roll your eyes. “Let me on top.”
Farleigh considers you with an odd look in his eyes before he bites his lip and grabs your waist. Your world spins as he settles back against your pillows, pulling you on top of him and he sighs, as his dick catches your entrance in all the movement. “Mm, sit on it, baby.”
You scowl, “Shut up.”
He doesn't, he smiles, his hips humping up towards you. “Know you missed my dick too, I know you missed me fucking you–”
You take him in your hand and he's hot, heavy and it throbs in your grip as you stroke him. Farleigh moans, his little rant getting cut off as he humps into your hand. “You gotta be patient.”
“But I missed you.” He gasps when you grip him harder, his voice cracking as you slowly, slowly sink down on him. “Missed you so fucking bad, missed your laugh, your smile, your beautiful fucking tits–” He gasps as you roll your hips against him. “Oh, fuck, go faster.”
You ignore him, rolling your hips at the same slow pace. Your bed creaks when you move too fast and you're suddenly uncomfortable, aware of the sunlight shining through your blinds, the possible students in the room next to you or below you— you try not to cringe about who heard you cum when you were pressed against the door. You roll your hips again, bracing yourself against his chest, grinding firmly against him, a soft moan leaving you. Farleigh only curses, his feet planted firmly on the bed and he bucks up into you, forcing you into the galloping pace that he wants. Your hands scramble, nails scraping across his chest as he momentarily brutal pace— he's panting in your ear, small and desperate, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck-’s leave his lips like a prayer as he forces your hips down to meet him, the slap of skin nearly sounds like a song and it's nearly enough to make you cum all over again.
You gasp his name in disbelief, one hand rushing to push at his thigh because it's too much. You've just come and you're sensitive and gushy and he's making another mess out of you. Your other hand flies to his neck and you grip hard, pushing yourself up and then down in an attempt to stop his thrust and you're shocked when Farleigh almost completely goes still. He's still panting and his fingers are digging into your hips but he's staring at you with a glazed-over look in his eyes, his parting in a silent moan as your fingers flex against his throat. “I love you.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“‘m not.” He whimpers as you begin to ride him again, bed creaking be damned— he's never not fought you like this. He gasps as you pick up your pace, “I love you so fucking much, wanted to– want to marry you–”
You clench around him and he chokes out a moan. He continues, babbling. “‘nd I'm so fucking sorry baby– fuck– I-I am, I'm so sorry–” Your fingers tighten around his throat and his hips roll to meet your pace, chasing the pleasure. “I love you, fuck– I fucking love you and– and–” His breath catches as you lift your hips and drop back down, he bites his lip, his eyes rolling back. “Please?”
You let out a confused hum and he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing under your hand. “I'm so close, baby. Haven't cummed in weeks– just please, a little faster, a little harder.” When he asks like that, you don't have in you to deny him, you shift and he answers with a moan as you bounce on his dick. One hand still on his neck, and you bring the other one up to rub messy circles against your clit. The both of you are a mess, moaning and chasing pleasure and when he cums it's with a shuddering gasp— he doesn't warn you as he spills inside of you and you continue to ride him fixated on your pleasure. You cum only a few short minutes after him, collapsing against his chest and he wraps his arms around you.
“Come to Saltburn.”
You're too tired to pull away but you tense in his arms, a sigh leaving you, “Far–”
“Please.” He begs, his voice a near whisper. “Only Felix knew we–” He pauses, a choked breath and starts over. “I didn't tell anyone else we broke up and he's bringing Oliver. Don't let me go back outnumbered.”
“I don't know, Farleigh.” You mumble against his chest.
“It’s only for the summer.” He says. “It’s one summer. Then– then if you mean it, if we're done you can leave. I'll never speak to you again.”
You draw a soft pattern against his chest, a shaky breath leaving you. It's one summer, he's right. Nothing could go wrong in only one summer, you have nothing to lose. Still, “Promise?”
He hugs you tighter, almost as if he's afraid you'd disappear at that very moment. “Promise.”
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hs-is-loml · 9 months
Text
Ever Letting Go. (cl16)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader
Summary: while the f1 couples are slowly breaking up, fans are stressed and try to protect the last ferrari wag standing.
Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Angela Giakas
Warnings: like 4 grammar mistakes in the twitter threads
a/n: this was extremely fun to make
all translations of french come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!
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yourusername here's two pics from my little vacation 🥰
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welovey/n are you guys seeing all the tweets about charles and y/n?!
→ thatonebakucorner people are so funny 😭
→ pleasemarrymey/n the lightning mcqueen ones took me out
selenagomez always a beauty! 🤍
danielricciardo did you get me the wine i asked for?
→ landonorris not fair you were allowed to ask for something?!
→ yourusername yes, i got it, danny. and lando, quit whining you know i got you something too
childofdivorce is charles not with her??
→ ihavetrustissues he better be.
→ y/nismother istg those rumors better not be true
→ protectthewags if he's not, he's crying in a corner somewhere
whatacrossover not harry liking y/n's post knowing she's got a bf
→ y/nisaneed he's ready for when that crybaby messes up
→ gayforf1wags no, i think it was my turn next...
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yourusername has posted a story
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charles_leclerc has posted
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liked by yourusername, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 2,461,537 others
charles_leclerc guys, who do you think took the damn pictures of y/n anyways? besides that as if i would ever let y/n go. mon amour, c'est toi et moi pour toujours. (my love, it's you and me forever)
view all 195,182 comments
landonorris did you see the lechair tweet?😭
→ charles_leclerc oh, fuck off
→ carlossainz55 the lightning mcqueen ones were even better
→ charles_leclerc not you too, mate...
welovey/n charles fr said "my woman" when saw the tweets about harry stealing his girl
→ oneaddiction we know harry could if he wanted to tho...
→ charlesandy/nforever as if y/n isn't as down bad for charles as he is for her
yourusername i'll love you always, mon chéri❤️ (my darling)
→ liked by charles_leclerc and 1,596
scuderiaferrari our favourite couple!
pierregasly don't let charles fool you, he was starting to sweat when the harry styles liked y/n's post...
→ charles_leclerc i know where you are right now, and i'll come after you.
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yourusername has posted
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, tchalamet and 1,941,979 others
yourusername thank you to everyone who was so worried about us on twitter and our insta comments. you guys are so incredibly funny, and you bet i showed that lechair guy all memes about him (he secretly loved it). charles and i are doing absolutely amazing! also here's some more pictures from our vacation together, he truly makes me the happiest, and i will forever be grateful for him❤️
view all 132,054 comments
yourusername p.s i got him the new watch from my story just for vacation lol... richard mille please do not come after my bf
landonorris ew couples🤢
danielriccarido you should've let them freak out more tbh
→ liked by yourusername and 237 others
y/n'ssecretlover the fact you guys were completely okay while the hashtag "savey/nandcharles" was trending on twitter 😭
carlossainz55 charles is still staring at your pictures, so give him a second to comment...
→ f1wags not carlos exposing charles, give the man a break
→ charlesstolenwatch fr stressing him out more than xavi during a race
charles_leclerc mon amour, thank you for always sticking with me ❤️
→ yourusername 💋💋
zendaya girl, i know how twitter gets, and they're insane
→ yourusername they make up the craziest things!
gayfory/n my praying worked.
5K notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 1 month
Note
Oh fuck tattoorry piercing his girl’s nipples would be so hot specially with how much she loves humiliation that entire interaction would be so sexually charged
this took me FOREVER but I hope you enjoy!!!!
part of the tattoorry/plugrry world
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word count: 3k
content warnings: piercings (mentions of needles), spicy but no smut
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
"Wait, you're being serious?"
Harry huffs out a laugh, sticking his chopsticks in the to-go container of veggie lo mein. "Of course I'm being serious. Why would I lie about that, dovie?"
His response, though not meant to make her feel bad, makes her shrug, a warm blush blooming over the expanse of her cheeks. She stuffs another bite of dumpling in her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully to save her from further embarrassment in front of her boyfriend. 
"Don't feel bad," he murmurs, his large palm finding the space between her shoulders, rubbing her sweatshirt-clad skin comfortingly. Her eyes stay glued to the television in front of them, where they're watching the newest episode of Ru-Paul's Drag Race per Y/N's request. (She's never watched it before and Jo, the receptionist at St. Mark's Social, told her she had to. Y/N's been steadily binging it for weeks. Harry pretends like he doesn't love it, but he's secretly just as invested.)
"Dove, look at me," he sighs, placing his food on the coffee table. She does, positioning herself to face him and flittering her eyes up to his face. He looks tired, but they both are. It's been a long week of work and school — however, Y/N was able to get an interview for the bookstore on campus, which ended up causing her a lot of stress and anxiety. It ultimately went well and they said they'd be getting back to her soon. Even if it wasn't the bookstore she wanted to work at, it was still a source of income that would hopefully replenish some of her savings and help her pay rent and bills. 
"I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry I did that," he says softly, "It's just a given to me, because of my work. Nipple piercings aren't otherworldly, like they probably are for you."
She shouldn't be nitpicking, but somehow that hurts just as badly. Sometimes, she feels like a child around Harry. It's as if he's lived a thousand lives in the adult world and she's just recently gotten to have a smidgen of those experiences. 
"It's not otherworldly," she says the word like it's an insult, and Harry has to press his lips into a line so he doesn't laugh, "I just didn't know people got them."
Clearing his throat, he forces himself to put on his professional piercer-and-tattooer face, "Yeah. It's something that anyone can get and I've done a fair amount of them. Semi-painful in the moment with a long healing time. They can look good on the right person, though."
That causes her eyebrows to nearly shoot up to her forehead. 
"What do you mean, the right person?"
"You're just a nosy little thing tonight, aren't you?" Harry fires back with a smirk. She goes to cower with deflated shoulders but he instantly makes a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, grabbing her hands to keep her close, "I just mean, like any piercing, it doesn't always look right on the person. Sometimes people get nose or eyebrow piercings and it's like, oh, that's fine. But sometimes it's as if their anatomy looks complete with the piercing — almost like it's meant to be there, if that makes sense."
It doesn't, but it only continues to pique her curiosity even more. 
"What about me?" 
"What about you?" Harry chuckles, using a hand to smooth her hair down. 
"What piercings would look good on me?"
He smirks at her little game. She plays this sometimes, and he assumes it only comes from a place of true wonder. When they talked about the drugs he's done before, she asked which ones he think she'd like. (None, except maybe for weed, but she has to get her anxiety under control before she tries it.) They went over different styles of tattoos when Y/N was interested in his work, especially when he explained that his are just a hodgepodge of designs, some with meaning, some without. (He said she can get whatever she wants if she decides on something one day, but he's particularly partial to a little "H" on her bum.) And now, she wants to know what piercings would fit her. 
"You can get whatever you'd like, dovie," he replies, "Just as long as I'm the one doing it."
She rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against the plush of the couch cushion. "Yeah, but you're the professional, Harry! You know what would look best on me."
"Anything would, you're gorgeous."
"That's a cop-out answer and you know it!"
Harry laughs loudly and places his hands atop her shoulders, "Okay, okay. Let me think, dovie. I need to assess my client."
"Oh, you're being a professional now?"
"Shhhh!" he exclaims, and it only makes her laugh harder. He's already gone to that focused place, though, with wandering but fixated eyes and that small crinkle between his eyebrows. She feels bashful beneath his gaze, blinking her eyes as he analyzes her facial features. She's watched him work before, but for some reason, this in particular reminds her of the first time they met, when she sat in on him tattooing Mai. She remembers the way her stomach warmed and her core throbbed at his attuned facial expression, similar to how it is now.
"Okay," he murmurs. Slowly, he reaches up to gently tap at the side of her nose. "I think you'd look very pretty with a small nose piercing."
"Really?"
He nods. "Yes, but you're beautiful with or without, so it doesn't matter. Plus, I can't have my girlfriend looking cooler than me."
She's not surprised at the way he instantly returns to his teasing self, even if it's not exactly the answer she was fishing for. She watches as he leans forward to grab his carton of noodles. With her tongue peeking out to moisten her lips, she attempts to grab his attention again.
"What about...?" she glances down at her chest. Harry looks at her with a quirked eyebrow. Her form is currently swallowed up in a sweatshirt that's a few sizes too large, so she realizes she's not being entirely specific about what she's asking. "Like...?"
"Huh?"
She sighs frustratedly, "My boobs!"
"Oh," Harry's eyes widen, flickering down to her covered breasts, "You wanna know if you'd look good with nipple piercings?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip. She watches at the cogs turn in his brain, his gaze meeting hers a moment later. 
"Need to see 'em." he says decidedly. 
She huffs out a chuckle as he helps her peel her sweatshirt off, leaving her in a comfortable bralette. It's pale pink and sheer, but with Harry's hands splayed across her ribs, he still pulls the fabric down. In an instant, her nipples are stiff and peaked from the cold air, and she's attempting not to feel sheepish underneath his intense eyes as they flicker between her breasts. 
"I don't know why I'm even contemplating it," he says, though it's mainly to himself, "Of course you'd look hot with them. You're you."
He looks up at her with a goofy grin before pressing a kiss between them. She blushes.
"You think so?" she asks as her hand finds the back of his neck. He nods, eyes flickering closed when her fingertips play with the shorter, curly tendrils. 
"Of course."
"Would you do it, then?"
Harry's eyes shoot open. "Wait, what? I thought we were just... talking, I didn't think you were being serious."
Y/N shrugs, "I dunno, I kind of like the idea of it."
"Dovie... you only have your ears pierced," he mumbles, sitting up and reaching to gently touch her ear lobes, "If this is something you'd seriously want, I'd want you to think about it for at least, maybe, a few days, not just 10 minutes."
"I've never done anything impulsive, though," Y/N says through a whine. He understands it, and his face crinkles some at her request. "You've gotten tattoos while you were drunk! O-or given stupid ones to yourself!"
"I know, baby," Harry coos, "But those were stupid decisions and I don't want you to make the same ones. You're so much better than that."
She sighs dejectedly. He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks, then to her nose. 
"I get it, dove, really. And by all means, I'd rather you get an impulsive piercing than a tattoo. But the healing time is really long, and it is painful. I just don't want you to regret it or... or get mad at me, either."
Y/N's heart softens a bit, nodding her head as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. "No, I understand." 
"If you still want them in a few weeks or months, I'm more than happy to be the one to do it," he says softly, reaching down to give her hand a small squeeze. She perks up a little at that, and he smiles. "Just give it some more thought, okay?"
. . .
Harry really, truly thought Y/N would never mention the whole nipple piercing thing again.
It turns out, his girl is way more stubborn than he could have ever anticipated, because it's been four weeks since then and she still wants them. 
In fact, she's currently sitting in his little work zone, where he tattoos and pierces other clients. Not his girlfriend.
"Are you sure?" he asks for the thousandth time. In the time since she first brought it up, she's done tons of research, including asking Harry just short of a million questions. He appreciated her enthusiasm towards education, but talking about nipple piercings as soon as he finished up work wasn't always ideal. Still, though, he made sure to entertain anything she had to ask, even catching her looking up different jewelry styles and what it looked like on different people. 
And, as soon as Jo accidentally overheard Y/N talking to him about it, of course she offered to show her own. Harry wanted to bang his head into a wall as he listened to them excitedly chatter in the corner, right after one of his employees bared her entire chest to his girlfriend. It had to be some type of workplace violation, only Harry served as the closest thing to Human Resources at the shop — and, considering they sold weed on the side, he didn't think he had much of a case against Jo.
It just so happened that Y/N got out of classes early on Wednesday and Harry hung around the shop those days, making deals and doing boring business administration things. When she asked if she could come by to get her piercings done, he reluctantly said yes. 
It wasn't that he didn't absolutely love the idea of it — he did, actually, and his mouth nearly watered at the imagery it created in his brain. What he did hate was the thought of causing his girl any kind of pain. He was still in the camp of being fearful that she'd get angry at him if she didn't end up liking it. But her excitement towards it never wavered, and he would never be one to tell her no.
"Yes, I'm sure," Y/N replies, wringing her hands together in her lap. "I'm nervous, though."
"That's normal, dovie. Just try your best to relax, it's only me."
She nods as he shuts the door to give them some privacy. He never does that with clients, but he wants to make sure he's making it as comfortable as a process as possible — and, maybe he's keen on ensuring no one else gets a peek. 
He busies himself with sanitizing his tools, washing his hands, and eventually pulling a pair of latex gloves on. He wishes he could make it a more fun experience for her, but the whole thing is quite medical.
"You already picked your jewelry out, right?" he asks lowly. She nods her head as she watches on. 
"Mhm. I sent you a picture of it last week."
"Right, these simple pink barbels, hm?" 
The piercing jewelry she'd chosen were pretty spot on to Y/N's aesthetic of being uncomplicated and feminine. When he saw what she picked, he immediately told her that it would fit her perfectly. 
"Alright, I'm gonna clean them and then we can get started. Still feeling good?"
She nods again. 
"You gonna tell me if you're gonna pass out again, baby?"
She scowls, remembering back to fainting from her first ear piercing. The sour, twisted frown on her face makes him laugh. 
"That's still so embarrassing." she mumbles. On the newly cleaned workspace, Harry shakes his head, placing the sanitized jewelry and piercing supples down on it. 
"Not embarrassing. Cute, actually," he corrects, peeling his gloves off. "Okay. I'm gonna help position you, is that okay?"
"Do you do that for every client?"
He narrows his eyes at her playfully, "No, you jealous little fiend."
She pulls her sweater off, revealing a pale blue baby tee. He swallows as she lays back on the extended table, taking a deep breath to surely calm her nerves. He gently squeezes her wrist, hovering over her form as she gets comfortable. When she shoots him a small nod, he smiles, flipping her shirt up. 
"Okay, baby," he says, smoothing his hand over her stomach, "I'm sure you read this in your... insane amount of research—"
"Not insane."
He nods curtly, "Right, not insane," he quickly corrects. "Anyway, your nipples have to be hard for this. It helps with the placement."
She issues another silent nod his way but doesn't move to do anything. With a small smile, he gently cups her breast. 
"Do you want me to?" he asks, his tone dropping lowly. She's not quite sure what he's even asking to do, but she still provides an affirmative answer. It's not a second more before he's latched his lips around her nipple, her eyes fluttering back from the sucking sensation. It's messy, the way he alternates between each one so they're swollen with his spit, and her fingers find his long curls, tugging at them gently to press him closer to her chest. 
It feels like he's gone far too quickly, plushy, wet lips pressing a quick kiss to the valley between her breasts as he examines his work. Her mouth parts as she watches him bite his lip. 
"You're good," he pants out, though he takes a moment to adjust the growing bulge in his pants, "Need to... put gloves back on."
They're both a bit lust-driven now, but Harry's quick to meld back into his professional persona after snapping a clean pair of gloves on his hands. Y/N swallows as he analyzes her, feeling squeamish beneath his eyes. Wordlessly, he grabs a marker and places two dots on either of her nipples. 
"That's just for the placement," he explains, grabbing a mirror so she can look at where the jewelry would sit, "What do you think?"
Truthfully, they could have been completely wonky and Y/N wouldn't have noticed, let alone say anything. She trusts Harry implicitly, even if she still feels a bit hazy from the welcomed assault on her stiffened breasts.
"Good." she says with a nod, glancing up at him, "Looks good."
"Alright, baby," he replies. He turns to get the clean piercing needle from his rolling tray. "I'm gonna count down from three. I want you to close your eyes and inhale on three, then exhale on one. We'll take a short break after the first one, and then I'll do the second. Does that sound okay?"
"Mhm," she mumbles, nervously biting her lip. "Just do it, please. 'm gonna lose my nerve."
He chuckles and nods, instructing her to keep her eyes closed as he situates himself over her. 
"Okay. Three— there you go, dovie, big, deep breath— two, one."
She immediately winces from the sharp bite of pain, a noisy gasp falling from her lips. Harry silently cringes to himself — not because the piercing isn't perfect, but because he absolutely hates knowing he's the reason why she's in pain right now. 
"Keep your eyes closed, baby," he murmurs as he fits the jewelry through the first piercing, "Good girl. You're doing so good for me, hm? My strong baby."
She swallows harshly, hands balled into fists at her side. It's painful, that much is true, and she's beyond grateful when he finally finishes screwing the jewelry into place. She lets out a shaky breath and Harry coos, taking one of his gloves off to thumb her tears away. 
"Was that okay, dovie?" he asks worriedly, "We can always save the second for another day."
Y/N quickly shakes her head, "No, no. Just do the other one now, otherwise I'll never have you do it."
Harry repeats the process on the other side. The pain is just as bad, tears continuing to cloud Y/N's vision and roll down her cheeks despite her keeping her eyes squeezed close. He shushes her softly throughout it, his heart tugging. Once he's finished, he's quick to wash his hands, listening to her quiet sniffles. 
"I know baby, I know," he mumbles. He crosses the room as soon as he's done, sitting down next to her and brushing her hair back, "You did so good, you know that? 's all done, dovie, you're done."
She sniffs, batting her wet eyelashes up at him. "'s done?"
"Yeah, sweetheart." he says with a small, crooked smile. "You were so good. Took it like a champ."
"I didn't, I cried the whole time."
He chuckles and leans down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"
She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip as he stands to grab the handheld mirror. He helps her slowly sit up, hinging at the waist. He holds it up to her chest, both pairs of their eyes staring at her swollen breasts. His eyes flitter to her face to gauge her expression, scared that she hates them. 
"Wait," she mutters, cocking her head to the side, "Wait... they're kind of hot."
Relief floods Harry's system and he smirks. "You think so?" 
"Yeah," she nods, sitting up on her knees, "I know they're kinda puffy right now but... I think I like them. A lot."
Harry swallows harshly, dropping the mirror on his chair. Suddenly, he's surging towards her and taking her cheeks between his large palms, smushing their lips together like his life depends on it. It takes her entirely by surprise, and it's hurried and hot and desperate, so much so that she's panting into his mouth and gripping at his black tee-shirt. 
When he finally breaks their kiss, strings of spit still connecting their mouths, he keeps his forehead pressed against hers. Again, he glances down to get another look at her chest. 
"I love you so fucking much," are the only words he can utter out before he's pulling her jeans down to bury his head between her legs. 
1K notes · View notes
dhoranbolt · 2 months
Text
You don't fool me
A/n: two thing- first this took me forever to write, I kept having to go back and scrap ideas 🥹 second, I did not know just how down bad I was for this man until I had to sit down and write this so.
Also friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!
bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic you are really the best ma'am I appreciate you so much 🥹💙💙💙
Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader, Yuji pining
cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, all characters aged up, dub-con that becomes enthusiastic consent, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, threats of killing
Word count: 5k (ish)
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This wasn't the first time they'd been paired up and sent off to find and kill a curse, but it was the first time Yuji was weary of the whole thing. They were both strong, that wasn't an issue – he'd been on back-to-back missions for weeks and it was starting to take its toll, that was the issue.
Of course, it didn't help that whenever he was around her, Sukuna would become an even bigger pain in the ass (than he already was).
They'd been sent to a long-abandoned warehouse, falling apart as it was, and radiating with cursed energy. Yep, whatever it was they were after was definitely in here.
"Split up to cover more ground?" She suggested as she looked up at him, but he shook his head.
"We can probably exorcize it quicker if we come across it at the same time, we should just stick together for now." It was a simple enough explanation, not a hint of 'I'm pushing my limits just being here with you' or 'it's easier to know you're safe if you're by my side' detectable.
To her, at least. Yuji chooses to ignore the scoff that resonates in his head as they cautiously enter the building. They walk side-by-side down the hallway, ears and eyes analyzing every detail of their surroundings.
"Must be one pain in the ass curse to send the both of us. I can feel the cursed energy everywhere, I just can't tell exactly where the source is." She filled the silence, wringing her hands together nervously.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s out there, but it's all about the same output. We'll just have to watch our backs." Yuji said with a nod.
"Hey, what do you think Nobara did when she found out Gojo canceled movie night to send us after this one? I can see her practically popping a vein." She laughed softly, moving around a stack of boxes to find any sign of their curse.
"Fushiguro is probably wishing it was you that got left behind right about now." Yuji guessed with a small chuckle, suppressing the thought that he might have wished for it, too. A faint gurgle sounded at the opposite end of the hall, cursed energy seeping into every corner of their bodies as it grew closer.
Yuji covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her scream muffled as he tugged her against his chest and pulled them into the shadows.
"Shh, I think I hear something." He murmurs, squinting in the darkness. He doesn't feel the mouth form on his hand, not until her lips are moving against his palm as she makes a noise.
She's gagging; trying to pry Yuji's hand off her face. And he's going to – until Sukuna's voice rings in his head.
'Pull away and I'll bite her tongue off. Try to keep her quiet while she's drowning in her own blood'
Yuji froze as Sukuna cackled, and she still struggled in his grip, now like iron to keep the curse from making good on his threat.
His name was muffled when she frantically tried to call it, but it only left her mouth open that much more for Sukuna to swipe his tongue along the inside.
If they could conceal their own cursed energy for just a second, then it would keep going on its path to the left of them, and probably wouldn't circle back around for a while. Yuji set his jaw, glaring up the hall as he spoke.
"Conceal your energy, then we'll deal with him. One curse at a time." The only confirmation she gave that she heard him was slightly loosening her grip on his arm.
The curse slunk away and Yuji held his breath, waiting to hear any sign of it coming back. When he was sure it wasn’t, he let out a sigh and threw his head back against the wall. Taking a moment to realize the situation they were still in he looked down at her.
He couldn’t see the blush in her cheeks, but he could feel the heat on his fingers. She shifted her body against his, letting out a whimper at the awkward kiss she was still locked in.
Yuji swallowed hard and took a deep breath. This was so not the time to be letting the sounds she was making go straight to his cock.
'You want her so badly, take her.' Sukuna taunted.
"No." Yuji snapped his response, trying to think of a way out of this (and the boner he was starting to sport against her back).
'Fuck her, brat. Or I'll kill her the next time I get the chance, and I'll draw it out while I make you watch.'
Sukuna knew well what he was doing, keeping this conversation in Yuji's head. She had no clue what he was trying to shield her from. Of course he wanted her, but not like this. Not when Sukuna was all but forcing his hand on the matter, not even giving her a choice.
“I said no! Knock it off!” Sukuna just chuckled, and she turned her head to look up at him with worry in her eyes.
'Or perhaps you’d like me to put us both out of commission. Tell me, just how long do you think she’d last against this curse on her own?'
Yuji’s heart dropped to his stomach. There’s no way Sukuna hated her enough to let her die like this, not with the way he found her so entertaining to him. Not with the way he currently had his tongue down the back of her throat- right?
'No, but if it would cause you everlasting turmoil, I’d jump at the chance.'
Could she ever forgive him for doing this? Would Sukuna even drop this after all was said and done?
Yuji was exhausted, and Sukuna knew it too. It was only a matter of time before he could slip out and swap places.
'I could always assist instead. After all, one wrong move and she’s on her own anyways. Go ahead brat, ask me for my help.' He grinned.
“No, last time I let you out you were a dick.” Yuji snapped, but he was running out of options here. How long until that curse realized where they were and turned back around? He could always make a deal with Sukuna, if he would agree to it was another question though.
At the sound of Yuji’s words her body tensed, blood running cold. There was no way Yuji was actually thinking about letting the king of curses out into the wild, especially when he already had her in this position.
'Tic-toc punk ass, this offer isn’t going to last forever.'
“Promise you won’t hurt her first.” Her eyes went wide and she began to struggle in his grasp again, body going hot. Screaming through his palm and Sukuna’s tongue as well as she could manage in protest.
There is no way he’s about to offer his body over to Sukuna right now, and all she could think about were all the previous times he’d spoken to her – though, at her might be a better word. Everything he’d said up to this point, his promises to absolutely wreck her- all came flooding back. Could they really not handle this job any other way than to bring Sukuna into the mix?
'You humans are so predictable, really fucking takes the fun out of everything. I’ll get rid of the curse. Just say you aren’t strong enough, you need a real man to do your dirty work for you.'
“That’s not-”
'Going once…'
“I don’t-”
'Going TWICE...'
“Fine! I need your help, please.” She was hysterical at this point, thrashing in his grip as much as she could, grinding her ass into him harder every time she moved.
'That doesn’t sound like what we agreed to, try again.'
Yuji groaned, thankful he could use that as an excuse to let out some of his frustrations.
“Sukuna please, I’m not strong enough and need a real man to do my dirty work for me.” Yuji bit out, and she stilled at his words, stomach knotting. Any minute now, Sukuna would be breathing down her neck. Months of sexual tension, mostly from his side - would it finally come to a head now? Or would he leave it and just get the job done, let Yuji take back over when it was safe–
A low chuckle rumbled from behind her, and the sound ran straight through her body to her core. She swallowed, realizing the tongue down her throat had finally disappeared.
Sukuna ran a hand up her chest before resting it on her throat.
“Well, well, this is certainly a turn of events, isn’t it?” She whimpered, frozen in place. What the hell was she supposed to do now?
“Sukuna…” She breathed his name warily.
“Surprised to see me? I did tell you I’d have you some day. So, how was I? It’s been a few hundred years. You’ll have to excuse the fact I’m a little rusty.” Sukuna filled the silence, not waiting for an answer.
“You weren’t too bad yourself; I think I even felt you participating at the end. Care for more?” He whispered in her ear, tongue flicking out to lick her lobe. She bit back her moan, clamping her knees together as she gently rocked back into him. He laughed, moving his hands down her body to grip her hips and pull her in closer against him.
“Oh, don’t be shy now, it’s just us. The brat won’t even know, it can be our little secret.”
“I-” She stammered, face hot. So what if she’d gone back to her room at the end of a long day full of Sukuna teasing her, and closed her eyes while chanting his name under the sheets? So what if being the object of the king of curses’ endless teasing was what she used to push her over the edge some nights? That was all by her choice - she was in charge.
Currently having Sukuna’s painfully rock-hard cock prodding her ass while he held her tight against him? She was so clearly not in charge, and to make matters worse? The realization sent her core gushing.
“I can smell you,” he continued, taking in a long breath. And this time she couldn’t bite back her moan.
“Sukuna!” She gasped, feeling the blush run up her ears.
“I think you should really stop being such a cock-tease, woman. No wonder Yuji can’t help but fuck his fist most nights. I bet he can smell you too, he just spares your feelings by not saying anything.” The fog he’d brought with him was starting to clear, and she tried to pry his fingers off of her.
“Stop! You’re lying!” But Sukuna just threw his head back in a cackle.
“I actually don’t care if you believe me, do you want to know why?” He stepped out from behind her so quickly, shoving her back against the wall, it made her head spin. Looking up at his tattooed face and red eyes only solidified how real this situation was for her - and her mouth went dry. He grinned down at her, gripping her chin to hold her in place.
“I’m going to fuck you through this wall. You won’t be able to look at that stupid brat without thinking of me inside you ever again. And he’ll never know because he’s out cold.” Using his free hand, he ripped off her skirt. She cried out, trying to grip his wrist and stop her panties from meeting the same fate.
“Aww, still shy, are we?” He teased as he examined the red lace, running his fingers down to the ever-growing wet spot on them.
“N-No!” Sukuna just chuckled, watching her face morph from flustered to pleasure at his touch.
“And look, you even wore red just for me. How cute of you.” She moaned, closing her eyes. The physical and mental teasing was too much. If he wasn’t going to kill her, she was going to die of embarrassment. He sucked his teeth, hooking his thumb into her mouth and tugging her face.
“Look at me while I touch you, I won’t tell you twice.” He snapped, and her heart thrummed in her chest. It felt so good to finally have him touch her after all this time, she’d forgotten just how dangerous he was in the moment. She nodded sheepishly.
“Good, you listen well for a sorcerer. I don’t believe in praising those beneath me, but I think I’ll make an exception just this once.” He pressed his fingers against her core, watching the way she squirmed under him.
“You’re so wet already and I’ve barely touched you, was my tongue down your throat just what you needed?” Her head was spinning, his hold on her jaw rough, but all she could picture was wrapping her lips around him.
She slid her tongue around his thumb cautiously, watching his reaction for any sign that she’d miss-stepped.
He groaned, smirking down at her as he leaned closer.
“And here you’d have everyone believing you’re too innocent for such filthy things.” Finding the edge of her panties, he pushed them aside, running his fingers through her slick folds. He watched as she moaned, satisfaction settling on his face as the moan grew louder when he pushed a finger inside of her.
“God you’re so tight, there’s no way that brat could stuff his cock in you.” Her walls flexed at his words. Sukuna’s one finger was already so thick, and now her mind was swimming with the thought of having more.
“But don’t worry, you’ll take it from me.” And then she felt a second finger at her entrance, making her eyes open wider. She tried to speak as best she could around the awkward hold he still had her in, but it didn’t matter.
“Suku-na!” She cried out as he forced another finger into her.
“I’d be thanking me if I were you. I’m feeling generous enough to stretch you out before I ram my cock into your stomach.” He offered, grinning as he watched her try and hold herself together.
He didn’t wait for her to adjust to the feeling, why would he? Fucking her open on him was all he could think about while he sat bored on his throne - not that he was admitting it aloud.
So many days, weeks, months, of him wrapped up in her. He knew exactly what she was doing to him, even if she didn’t.
“Was it worth it to parade around like a whore in heat around us?” He asked as he began to slide his fingers in and out of her.
“You know I offered him the chance to have you first. Humans and their virtues though, so fickle. Of course, the brat couldn’t do this.” He pressed his palm against her cunt, and her back arched off the wall as his tongue shot out to flatten on her clit.
Letting go of her chin he wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a testing squeeze before trailing down to her chest. Groping over her top, and then easily ripping the buttons away.
“Not my clothes!” She protested, but if he heard, he ignored her. Choosing instead to knead her breast as it spilled over her matching bra. Sukuna chuckled, looking back at her.
“The matching set, I’m starting to think you really did wear this just for me. Is that what you do? Under all those clothes you put on, you wear red hoping I’ll catch a glimpse. Hoping I’ll come out to rip it off of you.” He spoke as he rolled her bud roughly between his fingertips.
“God!” She cried out. He was everywhere. Pumping his fingers further inside her walls, tongue abusing her clit-
“I’ll be your god.” He hissed, before leaning down to suck her nipple into his mouth.
She was fast approaching the edge, gasping for air as he shot her towards her peak.
He curled his fingers inside of her, reaching a new angle that sent white hot pleasure shooting through her body.
“Sukuna!” She choked out, reaching up to ball her hands into his top. She was wary of touching him at first, opting to press against the wall instead. But it was all too much. She needed something more to try and ground herself through the first orgasm he was going to rip from her body.
“You gonna cum, little sorcerer?” He hummed around a mouthful of her breast, looking up at her expectantly. She already looked so cute and fucked out for him; grinding into his hand to push him further inside, face flushed as she whimpered his name over, brows pinched up while she looked down to him with a breathless nod.
“Please Sukuna...” If he wasn’t so pent up himself, he might have stopped what he was doing, but edging her would only edge him, and he had no interest in prolonging his own pleasure any more than being stuck in the passenger seat of his vessel already had.
For this encounter, anyways. So, he gave her what she wanted, driving his fingers faster into her cunt, biting down on the nipple currently still in his mouth, while his other hand roughly pinched at the other.
He could feel how close she was. It was getting harder to slide his fingers back into her, and he couldn’t wait to sink into her.
When he didn’t slow down or stop, she took it as permission, though, the tip of the iceberg was so close that even if he had told her no, she wasn’t sure she could have stopped, anyway.
It crashed over her in waves, throwing her against the wall as she cried out his name. Everything was gone - her sight, her hearing, all she could do was ride against his hand, and hope that their grasp on each other was enough to keep her standing through the intensity of it all.
Even when her high started to ebb away, he was still lazily pumping his fingers inside of her. Slowly the world came back to her, heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she whined.
“Aww, is someone sensitive?” He pulled away from her chest with a grin, red eyes glinting as he stared down at her dazed expression. She weakly pushed against his chest, trying to get him to stop while she regained some semblance of normal breathing.
“Sukuna…”
“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” She swallowed hard, still trying to find her way out of the haze.
“I- thank you...” He pulled his fingers out of her, chuckling at the whimper that left her lips. Raising his hand to his mouth, he kept his eyes on her as he sucked his fingers clean.
“Mmm, I don’t think so.”
“What?” Confusion crossed her face, and he pressed the same two fingers against her parted lips, looking on in admiration as she opened them without question. Sukuna pressed his fingers against her tongue, pulling her mouth open as he did.
“Those red panties you’re wearing will be sufficient.”
“What?” The word left her mouth again, and he raised an eyebrow, dragging his fingers down her tongue and out of her mouth. She stared at him for only a second more before leaning down to slide them off her hips. She looked down to keep from fumbling, but he hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face back up to him.
“I didn’t say you could look away.” She bit her lip, shimmying awkwardly to slide them down her knees. Stepping one foot out of them at a time, she began to lift them up. He grabbed them from her, large fingers brushing her own as he did.
She moved to stand up again, but he stopped her, shaking his head.
“On second thought, I don’t think one pair of panties is worth a mind-numbing orgasm, do you?” But it wasn’t really a question, not when he was already guiding her to her knees in front of him. The floor below her was cold - a shock that her core, still radiating heat, could feel.
“Be a good girl and open wide,” he said, reaching into his pants to take hold of his neglected cock. Pulling it out, he ran his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum up and down his length.
Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth. The brat could imagine all he wanted; it would never compare to having her right here in front of him. Small hands braced on his thighs, eyes blown wide as she took in just how fucked she was about to be.
“See something you like?” Her breath hitched as he knocked his fat tip against her bottom lip. She slowly opened her mouth, tongue sliding out and against the underside of his cock. He groaned again, grabbing the back of her head as he forced himself into her mouth.
She dug her nails into his thighs as he did, trying in vain to pull her head back so she could breathe.
“You’re not acting very grateful. Don’t make me fuck your throat, I’ll end up hurting your feelings.” He chuckled. Tears were already welling in her eyes as she choked on what he could fit in her mouth. Slowly, she removed a hand off from his thigh, reaching down to run her fingers through her folds. When she’d gathered enough of her release, she reached back up to pump the rest of him with it.
“How resourceful of you. Makes me want to fuck my cock down your throat all the more.” She moaned around his length, gently rocking him as far as she could take him. Part of her was screaming for air, the other wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made her feel moments ago. The fog was back, and she blinked the tears away as she looked up at him.
His jaw was tense, one hand still at the back of her head, the other balled in a fist and braced against the wall. Before this she’d only seen him when he was a mouth and one eye, stirring up chaos on Yuji’s cheek. Looking up at him now, though, red eyes trained on her and black markings all over his body - he was breathtaking.
All-powerful and terrifying as hell, considering that he could kill her in an instant, but breathtaking, nonetheless. She let her other hand slide down his leg to rest between her own, pressing her fingers into herself - only to whine in disappointment when it felt nothing like him.
“Needy little thing, aren’t you? I’ve gone hundreds of years without, and you just can’t wait for another.” She breathed hard through her nose, trying to take in as much air as she could before he hit the back of her throat again. Black dots buzzed at the corners of her vision, the sound of her choking on what she could take echoed through the hall.
Her jaw was pried open at a painful angle to accommodate him, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Her grasp on his cock grew slack, and she wasn’t fighting him every time he knocked his tip just a little further into her mouth. Her own fingers stilled in her aching walls, eyelids fighting to stay open.
Sukuna huffed, sliding his hand around to smack at her cheek.
“Don’t go passing out on me now, I’m not finished with you just yet.” And he pulled out of her mouth with a loud squelch as she gasped for air. The lightheaded feeling slowly dissipated as she looked up at him, tears and spit covering her face.
“You did okay. For now. We’ll revisit that later, get up.” She didn’t have to be told twice, rising on wobbly legs as quickly as she could. The thought occurred to her, that she was practically naked in front of him, while he was still fully clothed. She swallowed hard, trying to wipe away some of the shame along with the tears.
But he didn’t give her much time to wallow in her self-pity, quickly turning her around and pinning her to the cool wall. She shivered at the feeling of his solid body pressed into her back, erection still wet with her spit as it bounced on her bare ass.
“Maybe next time, I’ll let you look at me while I fuck you.” He breathed down her neck, grabbing his length and rubbing it through her folds. She dug her nails into the wall; he barely fit her mouth, there was no way she was ready–
“Relax, I’m not interested in breaking you the first time around. It would ruin the fun in watching you look at me in anticipation every time you’re around.” And he wasn’t wrong. Hell, he was still here, and the anticipation was coursing through her. Taking a slow breath she waited, thankful that the cool wall was enough to ease the heat on her face.
Sukuna gripped her hip and hooked his tip at her entrance before pushing in. She gritted her teeth, moaning at the already over-full feeling. For the situation being what it was, he was fairly gentle as he steadily eased himself through her tight walls with a prolonged hiss. She could only stay pressed against the wall, jaw dropped in a silent moan as he filled her out inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes rolled, body unsure if she should cry out in pleasure or pain.
“God look at you, practically foaming at the mouth. What would your sorcerers say if they caught you like this, hmm?” He groaned, bucking his hips up into hers. Her voice finally caught up to her, and she cried out, nails scraping down the wall as she clawed for anything to keep her grounded.
He didn’t quite fit all the way, but it only turned Sukuna on even more. Of course, he couldn’t fit - but he would. He would break her open on his cock as many times as he needed, until she fit him like a second skin. Until he was the only thing she could think about whenever she tried to seek pleasure elsewhere.
She was playing a game she had no clue about, and Sukuna was going to win. He laughed as he grabbed her hips, pulling out to slam back into her walls. They sucked him in and tried to keep him out all at the same time.
“Sukuna, fuck!” She moaned, reaching behind her to slow him down. He said he wasn’t going to break her, but the rough pace he’d set was literally fucking the air right out of her lungs. Her walls squeezed him tighter, and he moaned.
“Too much for you already, princess? I’m just getting started.” Sukuna grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.
“Too much, fuck, ‘s too much!”
“I’m not that brat, you’ll take what I give you exactly how I give it to you. Don’t piss me off, I’m in such a giving mood, right now!” He snaked his other hand around her, tongue darting out to swirl around her clit. Sukuna grinned. In an attempt to get away, she only managed to shove herself further onto his cock.
“Sukuna please, I don’t…Please!”
“Short circuiting, and I’m not even close yet. Shall we see just how many times I can make you cry before I’m finally satisfied?” Her mind was melting, she didn’t care anymore. What was she even begging for? Him to stop? Or maybe she was begging him not to stop. She’d never been filled up like this before; even the pain was pleasurable now. All she could do was stand against this wall and take it, anyway. Her body relaxed against him slightly, and he grinned.
“Is there something you want from me, little sorcerer?” She bit her wobbly lip hard, trying to focus on his words.
“I want- I wanna cum.”
“That so?” She nodded with a whimper.
“Beg, and I’ll think about it.” She couldn’t even be bothered with the feelings of shame looming overhead. She wanted one thing, and if begging was all she needed to do to achieve it, well…
“Please I wanna cum.” She whined, hands flexing in his grasp.
“Beg more, you can do better than that.”
“Please Sukuna please I wanna cum, never wanted to cum so bad. Please make me cum on your cock please I-” She was a wailing mess, she didn’t care who heard her pleas, only that he might answer them. His tongue licked at her folds, snaking around his length to tease her from every side.
He rocked her into her second orgasm, reveling in the feeling of her tightening around him as she screamed.
God, he needed to feel it again. The way her walls fluttered around his thickness, trying to close around the strain of taking him. The feeling was maddening, and Sukuna was sure he could pull another one from her immediately, he just needed to pick up the pace as he rammed his cock harder into her.
The wet sound of his second mouth lapping at her, mixed with her moaning variations of his name and ‘fuck don’t stop’ was more than enough to catch the attention of anyone close by, and as absorbed as Sukuna was in this little game, he wouldn’t let his guard down. He was sure she didn’t even remember what they were here for anymore at this point. If the whites of her rolled eyes and the drool currently sliding down the wall where her face was pressed against it were any indication, anyway.
He could feel her whole body start to twitch and tighten, and he knew she was close again. Two orgasms in, and he knew her body so well already. He’d put that knowledge to good use later.
“Go ahead little sorcerer, scream for me.” And she came hard, walls clamping down on him, practically shoving him out while she did. It was enough to send him reeling, too. Hips slamming up into her, he sank his teeth into her shoulder as he finished with a growl. If they weren’t both so wrapped up in each other, they might have realized he growled ‘mine.’ He painted her insides in white hot ropes, stilling when the euphoria finished washing over him.
“If you think that was mind-numbing, just wait until I get ahold of you in my true form.” Sukuna whispered against the shell of her ear.
He pulled out with a groan, watching her whole body quiver as he did.
“Clean yourself up.” She finally looked back at him, brows knit. He ripped the sleeve off his jacket, handing it over to her. When she tried to pull it, his grip tightened, and he looked at her expectantly.
“Thank you…” She said quietly as she cleared her throat.
“Such a good girl for me already, I don’t even have to train you. I’ll be back, be ready to leave when I am.”
“Wait where-”
“There’s still a job to do here, isn’t there? I’ve got a curse to kill.” He smirked as he walked backwards up the hall.
Yuji wouldn’t be awake for a while, plenty of time for Sukuna to hide his prize. One of the many he planned on taking from her, he thought as he twirled the red panties on his finger.
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deadmomjokes · 2 years
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You ever have a compliment that just sticks with you for literal years and years? Maybe forever?
For me, it’s when I was working as a figure model for art classes at my university (because it paid well due to being an early-morning thing and was easy to get because nobody else wanted to apply due to the near-nakedness and pervasive body image issues in our culture). There was this one professor who was always so happy when I showed up as the female model for that day because he said that I had a “good sense of motion”, and it was fun to draw. (Which, in itself, was a great compliment because I am a clumsy, self conscious person.)
But what really got me was one day we were doing 15-minute poses, which are harder to do because you need to come up with something interesting and dynamic, but you have to be able to hold it for a quarter of an hour without moving even a little bit. They didn’t have any specific guidance for us, so I just... did something. Idk. But about five minutes into wandering around helping the students and talking to them, he paused and told me that I was doing a good job, and, “What a fun pose. You’re reminding me of Rodin’s ‘Eve,’ there. You always have a very Rodin sort of energy about you. Thanks for waking up early for us.” And then just went back to discussing the use of ink with one of the students like he hadn’t almost reduced me to tears.
Then I went home and looked up Rodin’s ‘Eve’ and was blown away because she actually did look like me? I had ended up in that pose almost exactly just by chance, but she also had a soft, squidgy tummy and the hip dips and weird butt and big feet and thunder thighs and strong calves, just like me.
And I don’t have a great relationship with my body. Very much the opposite. I frequently hate the way I look and fit into it, but then occasionally from the depths of the past comes the voice of an art nerd telling me I’m like a Rodin sculpture, and I feel like, “Yeah, I have Rodin Energy so suck it, brain!” And it helps me reframe the way I’m thinking about myself because I can get outside of my head for a minute and see that while I’m frustrated with my body, it has an art to it just by existing. Soft tummy? Fun to draw, nice curves! Big thighs? Strong lines! Dimples and wrinkles and slopes become a place for light to sit. Bodies are so cool, and that includes mine! Even if it’s not quite what I want it to be, it’s still a work of art that nature sculpted just for me.
And for him it just seemed like such an off-handed, normal, natural thing to say. He thought “Hey, that looks like Rodin,” and so he said it.
Just... Idk. Compliment people. Say what’s on your mind. You have no idea whether it’s going to totally change a person’s life. It’s just words to you but it could be really, deeply important to them.
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woodlandwrites · 15 days
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i. mind over matter
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aphrodite!reader x luke castellan
pre-tlt, characters 18+, mdni, def going to be a pt.2
warnings: cursing, whole lotta impertinence!
2.7k read - unedited
You have been plagued by flocks of doves and Luke Castellan. So Aphrodite decides to meddle a little a lot in your love life. Who needs memories anyway? Unfortunately, the only person you find comfort in - is the very person you hate.
A/N: first fic in a loooong time - stick with me here. there will be more parts and maybeee some spice? anyways hope you enjoy!
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You’d like to think that Aphrodite loved the game of making you miserable. In retrospect, you hated your mother. She was a hard act to follow. 
Don’t jump to conclusions - you loved your cabin. Your brothers and sisters were wonderful - not vain like most campers would say. No, that was not an issue. The problem started with one slender, curly haired, crooked smile boy - Luke Castellan. He was the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood and the bane of your existence. 
Luke was an astonishingly aggravating self-centered egotistical bigot. 
“Why do you hate him so much,” Silena asked one day out of the blue. You both sat in the stands watching Luke teach his swordsmanship class. You pondered her question for a while.
“Because. He confuses me - and aggravates me constantly. I have never met anyone so full of themselves in my entire life. He is Narcissus reborn again. It also does not help that he is a complete jerk,” you nodded as you ate another fresh strawberry. Silena pondered on your words.
“Are you sure this has nothing to do with mom and the whole..argument,” she said in a cautionary tone.
Silena was the only one who knew about you and Aphrodite’s - complicated past. To be fair - she didn’t know the entire truth. The prophecy, the impertinence, all the bullshit. However, she did know that your shoulders seemed to tense every time Aphrodite’s name was mentioned. 
“I mean every time I have talked to him at camp counselor meetings he seems like an alright guy.
Silena - forever the optimist. Sometimes when you looked at her through the corner of your eye she resembled your mother. She had this soft tone and locks of hair that seemed to always catch the wind just right. Yeah, no wonder Luke was nice to her. Selina was extremely beautiful - Beckendorf struck gold. 
“Yeah, I can see right through the façade-” you were cut off by a dove landing next to you. He started pecking at your strawberries mindlessly. Silena stifled a small giggle. 
“It is funny when it isn’t happening to you. The bastards have been following me around for days,” you said annoyed.
You tried scaring the bird away - only for more to return. After a couple minutes an estimated 20 doves flocked around you mimicking every move. 
“Go away!” you screamed - only for the feathered friends to cock their heads in curiosity. By now, the entire arena seemed to convert their attention to you. 
“Hey! I heard if they shit on your head it’ll bring good luck,” Luke echoed watching amused.
He leaned against his sword in a cocky manner. What an asshole - you hated when he did that. The other campers seemed to laugh along. 
“Up yours, Castellan,” you yelled with a face the color of cherries. 
The doves had now increased their army to a solid 50 - all looking to you for a further instruction. Doves had followed you around your entire life - a gift your mother had bestowed to you. The unfortunate part was that they were pretty much the most non obedient monsters on the entire planet. You never had truly understood why they would appear - most of the time it was a random occurrence. Of course - Luke was always there to revel in your misfortune. You still had not forgotten when the doves caused a complete riot last month at dinner - leaving quite a mess for you to clean up. The younger campers were still traumatized. 
That was the thing about doves - they were just like your mother. At first they are nice to look at, almost sweet. That is until they turn into vicious assailants from Tartarus (Silena says you overreact). They also annoy you - another common attribute with your mother. 
“For Gods sake just leave!,” you yelled again, stomping off, bidding Silena goodbye.
You did not want to continue being entertainment for the rest of the campers. The doves seemed to take the hint - maintaining their place in the stands. You were sure there were some week old snacks stuffed between the seats the rotted things could ravish on. Luke chuckled before turning his attention back to his students. 
The sun was setting and soon it would be dinner - but you still sat in bed thinking about what Silena had mentioned early about your mom. Maybe it was your nerves - but you knew a visit soon would be unavoidable. The doves only confirmed your suspicion. It was rare for gods to visit Camp Half-Blood, at least publically. The closest thing the camp had to godliness was Mr. D - what a joke. However, you knew your mother and her constant desire to meddle with your life. 
Dinner went without a hunch - except for the Stoll twins starting a food fight at the Hermes table. You loved quiet nights like these where the summer breeze feels like a warm hug. Silena nudged you - reading her expression you knew she was inquiring about the events from earlier. A shrug sufficed. You were so caught up in laughing with your siblings you failed to notice the yelling from the other side of the pavilion. 
“One of the Ares girls was flirting with Luke after you left today - Charlie and I could not help but laugh. It was so awkward,” Silena mentioned.
 There were a couple of murmured sounds and gawking from your siblings - which was the usual. If there was one thing they loved it was - well - love. However this subject rubbed you the wrong way - maybe it was just Luke’s name being mentioned.
It felt like a suffocating gut punch and it was most likely your mothers doing. If there was anything she loved more it was demigod love - the trials and tribulations - and of course the unfortunate ends. It quite literally made you sick. But why did Luke have to be roped in it and moreover - why did you care? You smiled and nodded - trying to pay attention and not let the thoughts take over. 
“Get these goddamn things off of me!,” a familiar voice yelled in annoyance.
So wrapped up in thought - you failed to care - assuming it was a practical Hephaestus joke with an Ares kid. Selina quickly nudged you pointing towards the Hermes table - for quite an interesting scene. Luke being attacked by a merciless army of doves. 
“Hey Castellan, let them shit on your head - heard it was good luck!,” the words reflected from just a few hours prior.
You couldn’t help but giggle - it was nice not being the receiver of dove aggravated assault (as Beckendorf had termed it). It was also nice not to be the joke for once - everyone laughing at someone else for a change was different. 
“Call the damn things off,” he struggled - yelling your name in the process.
“Why do you automatically assume I am the one who set them off? They just do what they want!” you retorted.
 Silena looked at you - questioning your motives. He struggled even more as the doves thrashed him around - seemling gaining confidence in their blows. They seemed - deadly - more than before. Silena muttered your name.
“You have to try,” Silena persuaded. Reluctantly you obeyed - knowing she was being more serious than she was putting on. 
“Stop!” you yelled sternly to the winged creatures.
Like usual - they did not obey. Unfortunately, they keep going - tearing Luke’s shirt in the process. He held himself quite well against dove assassins  - a fact you did not want to admit to yourself. 
“παύω!” You spoke - pleading that it would end.
It was all your mothers fault. She wanted you to be miserable. She wanted to ruin your night, humiliate you - and to hurt Luke. You weren’t sure why that last part bothered you so much.
 “Φεύγω!” you screamed once more in an earthshaking tone.
The doves dissipated automatically. Like literally - poof - into dust. Again - the entire camp had its eyes on you - what else was new?
“What is wrong with you,” Luke questioned - still astonished at the sheer power of your voice - that very voice that made doves disintegrate. You slowly looked up at his disheveled appearance - he looked worse.
Beautiful. 
You wish that voice in your head would go suck a dick!
“Shows over, enjoy your dessert,” you said bitterly to the crowd taking a bow.
Silena yelled your name but you had already darted towards the woods. You could hear the muttering of the crowd questioning the evening entertainment. You could not seem to care. 
You took a seat in the sand on the beach overlooking the shore. The moonlight seemed to make the water sparkle like diamonds. You felt almost calm here - no one to distract you from your thoughts. Why did his words strike you like a knife? He might as well plant backbiter into your back, it would hurt less. It all led to the proper question - why? Why would the doves attack him anyway? They had never done anything quite so ruthless before - nevertheless to another sole person. 
Then again - it was always about Luke - ever since you got to the infernal camp. He was probably celebrated for his brave victory in the battle of the doves - hoisted up by other campers. You suppose a feast in his honor was in order. 
“You think such unhappy thoughts,” an angelic voice sang from the sea. 
Your attention turned towards a bundle of sea foam. The foam began to sparkle and mangle to take the shape of a woman the closer it got to shore. Soon after your mother - Aphrodite stood before you - in all her glory.
“I thought seafoam was just whale jizz,” you spoke casually. You chucked at yourself that was a good one!
Of - fucking - course. Your mother was behind the entire dove fiasco - you called it. You should start placing bets at this point. 
“Most would be labeled impertinent with that attitude - especially with a God.” 
“I am impertinent.” You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest. Maybe if you really ignored her she would disappear. 
“I will not disappear yet - we have much to discuss.” 
“Get out of my head.” 
“I heard what occurred tonight at dinner. Shame, doves are very gentle creatures.”
A dove magically appeared in her hands, letting out a soft coo. You cringed. If you saw another dove tonight - you might just roast it and eat it. 
“So that was you?” You asked venomously.
“Well thanks mom! Now the entire camp thinks I tried to kill the golden boy with a league of killer doves. They all think I am absolutely crazy.”
“I did nothing, my child.” You gawked at her - she paused to collect her thoughts.
“However, you might want to look within yourself before you spit accusations that are not true. I merely gave you a gift - how you use it is at your own expense.” She finished. 
“But I don’t control those horrid things - they just show up and do whatever. Why would I even attack Luke with a bunch of wimpy doves?”
That was your mother, having the audacity to say you caused the incident. That it was all your fault. 
“Love, perhaps?” Her eyes seemed to glitter at the thought. 
“No.” Ugh, not this again, you thought.
“Doves are a mere - personification of one’s inner love. That is why I gave you the gift - so your innermost feelings can never be bottled. That does horrid things to one’s complexion.” 
“Well thanks for the shitty gift, mother. Next time maybe a pair of socks will do the trick.” 
“Why do you insist on denying who you are? Denying what you are destined to become? Denying yourself the love of the century?”
“Why love someone if they eventually will die.” It was true. Your father had died when you were young - leaving you an orphan. Your demigod friends you made throughout the years died horrible unspeakable deaths.
“Isn’t that all the more fun?” 
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you? You just love to see me suffer?”
“You’re being rash.” She fired back.
“Rash? Where have you been?” You scoffed at your godly mother.
“Child, I do not write destiny - I only enforce it. I know you more than you would like to admit, sweet dove. And you - are in love with the child of Hermes.”
 Apollo could’ve shot you through the chest - it would have felt better. 
“Mother, you have it mixed up - I do not have any feelings for Luke. You’re just making things up because you are bored and need some excitement. Please go back to Olympus and meddle with someone else’s life,” you stated. You staggered to your feet dusting the sand off. 
Before you could walk away a bolt of pure energy hit you in your spine. You flew to your feet hitting the ground with a hard thud. In a blur your mother was standing proud above your feet - surrounded in a pink aura. 
“Luke Castellan, he will keep you safe - and you will keep him steady.” 
You might have thought to curse at her - but you couldn’t speak - let alone move. She had disappeared from vision leaving only a dove in her wake. The pain - was excruciating - like being electrocuted a million times. Your ears rang terrible tunes as you tried to level yourself - only to fall back down. The world was spinning at an unmeasurable pace. You could hear shrill screaming - or was it yours? You weren’t even sure who you were? Only images of dark curls, broad shoulders, and crooked smiles flashed through your vision. 
A quake of footsteps running towards the shore were felt as you thrashed in the sand. Voices - yelling a name - whose name? You couldn’t recall. All you knew was darkness. 
“Y/N?!” a feminine voice called. You could feel her hands shake your shoulder violently - it felt like knives.
You heard screams - this time knowing it was your shrill cry. You pushed her away with force. You backed away, crawling backwards in desperation. 
Once your vision returned you focused to see a swarm of kids all in orange shirts - staring at you in shock. The girl who touched you - you could only assume was kneeling in the sand in front of you. She seemed to be pleading.
“Stay away, please,” you pleaded with tears streaming from your eyes. You weren’t sure what had happened but you knew you had never felt pain so deeply. 
“Y/N, please you were screaming. We only want to make sure you are okay. We can go to the infirmary and figure it out,” the girl reached out only for you to retreat more. You hyperventilate on your own words. 
“What’s going on?” another voice asked with urgency from beyond the crowd.
Every child seemed to turn their attention to focus on the male figure. Pushing his way through the crowd - he became shocked at the scene before him.
However, you felt as if all the oxygen had left your body - leaving you limp. You felt as if a hand had grabbed your heart and ripped it in two. He was the one - the one you had seen in your visions. 
“Y/N?” he questioned - half concerned, half annoyed. His chocolate eyes seemed to lock ever so easily with yours. He was indeed the most beautiful man you had ever seen - like a carving of marble. Your soul ached. Without a thought - on instinct alone - you ran. He was engulfed in a desperate hug - his shoulder muffled your pitiful cries. 
“Please, you’re the only one who can help.” You could feel the eyes on the two of you - the gasps were hard to ignore. He went stiff in his posture - not sure how to react. Silence fell over the entire shore, only the crashing of waves in the background. 
“Y/N what is going on? Is this some sort of prank?” he asked in disbelief. 
He had never seen you like this - so scared. Some small part of him wanted to scoop you up, hold you tight, and tell you everything would be okay. He wanted to tell you how he would fix all your problems - just so he would never see you cry again. Although these feelings were so suppressed he restrained.
Gods you were beautiful. 
“I- I don’t know who Y/N is. I don’t know anyone. I don’t know me.” 
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fanfic-wonderland · 3 months
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Not Just Friends {Coriolanus Snow}
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Synopsis: After your breakup with Felix Ravinstill, you go to Coriolanus Snow for help and comfort. When you ask him to go to the Winter's Ball with you so you can make your ex-boyfriend jealous, he's hesitant. He has his reasons...
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader
Word count: 2.6k
Read part two here.
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When you arrive at the Snow residence one chilly afternoon, bawling your eyes out, nearly everyone is immediately worried. Coryo’s grandmother does not stick around for long to listen to your problems, claiming that she’s tired and will lie in bed for a while. However, Coryo, who looks the most concerned, guides you to their dining table, sitting beside you while Tigris heads directly to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea. “What happened?” He asks immediately.
You try to quiet down your sobs, taking a few deep breaths before answering him. “You were right. Felix is a no-good jerk. I should’ve listened to you.”
Coryo’s eyes darken at the mention of Felix’s name. He’s never been fond of him, much less when you started dating him a few months ago. You thought that he was just playing the role of the overprotective best friend when you first told him that you and Felix started seeing each other, and that he was being ridiculous when he had said that Felix was “the worst option for a boyfriend”. If only you had listened to him back then, you wouldn’t be crying over a broken heart right now. “What did he do?” Coryo asks in a low dangerous tone.
“He—” You shake your head as more tears fall down your cheeks. Coryo takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and grabs your chin softly, wiping them away. “I found him making out with Arachne in one of the classrooms.”
Coryo stops his movements, a hard look on his face. You try not to lose it again after the words leave your mouth but the image is freshly imprinted in your mind. The way his hands were all over her, while she grabbed at his hair… and how their mouths devoured each other…
You snap out of your thoughts when Coryo suddenly stands up and begins heading to the door. “Where are you going?” you ask frantically, following him.
“I’m going to kill him,” He answers but does not stop walking. “And her. I’ll kill them both.”
“No, Coryo, wait!” You grab him by the arm and pull him back. He finally turns back to you; his eyes are practically flames at this point. “They’re not worth it. Just… stay here with me, please,” You practically beg him. You feel your voice on the verge of breaking, again. “Please. I need you here with me.”
Coryo’s expression softens at your words and your glossy eyes make him silently give in. His arms wrap protectively around your figure and your cheek is pressed against his chest. You cry some more while he holds you, and it makes you feel a tad bit better.
A few moments later, the three of you are back at the table while you’re sipping from the tea that Tigris had brewed for you. The crying has finally stopped; the tea and the company were a big comfort. “I do want to ask you a favor that doesn't require killing anyone,” I direct my words to Coryo, who is already looking at me.
“Anything,” he says.
You sigh. “I want you to come with me to the Winter’s Ball.”
Coryo groans. “Anything but that,”
“Oh, please, Coryo,” You plead, clasping your hands together. “Both of them will be there and I just know that they'll be fuming if they see us together. Felix always hated the idea of us together and I just want him to see that I—”
“(Y/N), I already told you that I'm not going—”
“I know what you said,” you cut him off. Coryo typically does not mind going to social gatherings but the Winter’s Ball is different. He’s not fond of attending a dance filled with students who love to flaunt their wealth through over-the-top gowns and suits he cannot afford. At least not for now. “But if you could just do this one thing for me I will be forever grateful. I'll even pay for your suit, I have no problem doing—”
“Don’t,” He warns you. “Do not try to bribe me with that.”
You lower your head when you realize that you've made him angry. “Sorry.”
Silence follows and it feels like it goes on for too long. “Coryo,” Tigris chimes in. “Maybe it could be a good thing that you go with (Y/N). Aside from helping her out, it could also be a nice way to get your mind off things. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately.”
He narrows his eyes at her but before he can say something else, you beat him to it. “No, It’s okay. It was a dumb and petty idea anyway. Maybe I should just endure it as it is,” I stand up. “I should get going now. Thanks for the tea, and for listening. I'll see you guys later.”
Tigris walks you to the door while Coryo stays seated, keeping his eyes away from you. Moments later, Tigris comes back with a frown on her face. “Would it be so bad for you to go to the Ball?” She asks him softly.
Coryo closes his eyes and sighs. “You know how I feel about these things, Tigris.”
“I know. But you'd be helping (Y/N) out,” She points out. “Coryo, she's your best friend. How many times has she helped you without asking for anything in return?”
Countless times. And Coryo is sure that you'll keep helping him for as long as you can. It's only one of the many things he loves about you. “Tigris, you don't understand,” Coryo takes a moment before he confesses. “It’s not just about the Winter’s Ball. The mere thought of helping (Y/N) to make that good-for-nothing Felix Ravinstill jealous is…”
Tigris observes her cousin, the pained look on his face as he talks about you and your ex-boyfriend, and her eyes widen in realization. “Oh,” Coryo looks down at his hands, unable to say much. He’s already said enough. “Were you planning on telling her?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not worth it. She clearly doesn’t feel the same way.”
She places her hand on top of his. “I know it looks that way now, but there’s no telling what she truly feels unless you talk to her. You guys have known each other for so long that there may be something unspoken on her part, as well.”
Coryo doesn’t know what to say to that but the thought of you reciprocating his feelings stirs something inside him. He shouldn’t give in to them —he needs all his focus shifted to his studies to stay top of his class— but Tigris’ words make him reconsider his priorities, whether that’s a good thing or not.
***
You regret coming to the Winter’s Ball by yourself.
Everyone you see in the room is either coupled up or chatting away with other people. The people from the Academy who you once considered your ‘friends’ have taken Felix’s side after you guys broke up— all except one, but he's not here, so you're left sitting at an empty table on your own.
You've spotted Felix and Arachne a few times already, dancing together, and you try to distract yourself with a plate of food and a few drinks, but It's hard to look away when he's kissing her as if you aren't there. As if you guys hadn't dated at all.
You really shouldn't have come.
The plate is not even halfway empty but you've already lost your appetite. Your head is spinning and your chest feels heavy; the best thing you can do is leave. No one will notice anyway. 
So you quickly stand up from your seat but when you turn to leave you almost run into someone had you not realized sooner. “Sorry,” you say before looking up at their face. You nearly stumble backward when you take in those familiar blue eyes. “Coryo! You’re here.”
“Where you just leaving?” Coryo asks.
You shrug. “I didn’t feel like being here by myself.”
“Well, you’re not anymore,” He offers you his hand. There’s a hint of a smile as he says, “Would you like to dance?”
You’re speechless for a moment, not truly believing that Coriolanus Snow, one of the most persistent people you’ve ever met, is attending the Winter’s Ball with you. You almost pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming. The only thing you can do is nod and place your hand in his, and then he guides you to where everyone else is already dancing. People begin to turn their heads in your direction; some smile (at Coryo), some glare (at you), and some whisper to the person next to them, but you find that you don’t care. 
That is until you reach the center of the dancefloor and catch Felix and Arachne watching the both of you closely. His blazing stare almost succeeds in making you crumble, but you're brought back to reality when you feel Coryo’s thumb softly grazing the back of your hand. “Don’t pay attention to them,” He says close to your ear. You notice that he's smirking proudly at them and maybe that's the reason why Felix looks like he wants to kill someone. He's always had this crazy idea that you and Coryo were going behind his back, so this must feel like a slap in the face to him. You try to brush those thoughts aside and focus on the feeling of Coryo’s hand holding yours, how it makes you feel so warm inside.
The both of you turn to each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you close by the waist. Your bodies begin to sway to the music naturally; it feels like you guys aren’t just pretending. The other students certainly seem to believe so, seeing how, unlike when you first arrived, everyone’s attention is fully on both of you. After a few moments of dancing, you start to forget where you are, and it feels like It’s just you and him in the room. He makes you feel that way effortlessly just by the way he’s looking at you, and only you. It’s like nothing else matters to him in this one moment.
You only break eye contact with him when you’re suddenly spun around by someone behind you. “I knew it,” Felix spits his words out like they're venomous. “How convenient that right after we break up you’re here with none other than the guy you’ve always denied being involved with.”
You fold your arms across your chest, scowling up at him. At that moment, you beat yourself up for crying over a guy like him. “I've always been truthful. I never went behind your back. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for you.”
“You act like you're so innocent, right?” Felix scoffs. “You always said nothing was going on between you and Snow but here you are throwing yourself at him in front of everyone.”
Your blood begins to boil. Before you can say anything else, Coryo steps in front of you. “Watch your mouth, Ravinstill,” He warns. “I’d think carefully about what to say if I were you.”
Felix laughs dryly. “This doesn't concern you, Snow.”
“It does because she's with me tonight and I won't tolerate you addressing her like that.” 
Coryo steps closer to Felix, practically hovering above him. Although Felix is slightly shorter, he doesn't seem the least bit intimidated. “Right. Figured you would play hero and jump right into defending your little whore from—”
Coryo’s fist meets Felix’s face before he can finish talking, sending him straight to the ground. Everyone who is watching the scene gasps in horror. Once he recovers, Felix manages to connect a punch to Coryo’s jaw, but it will take more than that to take him down. Coryo’s much stronger than him— and much angrier.
You call out Coryo’s name in panic, trying to get him to stop, but he keeps grabbing at Felix and punching him numerous times until his knuckles are stained with Felix’s blood. You begin to think that he might kill him. “Coryo, stop!” You cry out again, trying to hold him back by the arm.
He finally listens but his attention is still on Felix, who is lying on the floor and whose face is more than messed up now. A few students try to help him out and you take that opportunity to drag Coryo outside.
You figure he needs some fresh air. You know you certainly do. So both of you walk around the Academy grounds for a bit, arms linked with each other and neither of you saying anything until you find a bench right across from the fountain and you sit down. By the time you do, Coryo has calmed down a bit, although he still looks shaken up. You notice the bruise starting to form across his jaw, and you have a sudden urge to run your fingers through it, to do everything you can to make it go away. 
Coryo catches you looking. “It doesn't hurt much,” He reassures you. “You probably hit harder than him.”
You chuckle, too exhausted to pretend to be offended. “Are you alright, though?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“I think so,” You nod, fiddling with your fingers.
You break away from his gaze but you can still feel him staring. “Hey,” he places a hand on your cheek to get you to look back at him. “Nothing that he said is true, and I hope you know that.”
A fluttering feeling forms in your stomach. His eyes have always been your weakness.
“I know that, It’s just…” You shake your head. “I feel like all of this is my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to come with me, because clearly, it was a horrible plan. And now I probably fucked things up for you— your reputation might be deeply affected now that you beat up the president’s son.”
Coryo doesn't say anything. His lips remain a thin line on his gorgeous face. “I should really start listening to you from now on, huh?” You try to joke.
You guess it works as Coryo smiles faintly. “I think that's the best idea you’ve had so far,” he agrees. “But I could care less about my image right now. He deserved that—no, worse. No one talks about you like that and gets away with it. Not if I can help it.”
His words make your insides jump. You try to control it because since when does Coryo have such an effect on you? Your relationship has always been nothing but platonic. “The thought of you hurting over a guy like him pains me so much because he doesn't deserve you. Fuck, even I don't deserve you, but I would never, ever do something to hurt you like that,” You swear he’s leaning his face closer to yours. “You're the most important thing to me, (Y/N). You’re so precious and I don’t think you see just how much. But I do. I’ve always seen it.”
You gape at him. “Coryo…”
You were not expecting him to say something like that. Coriolanus Snow has always been far from the romantic type. Charming, absolutely, but you have never heard him express any desire to be romantically involved with someone, let alone yourself. You don’t know how to answer to him. “You don’t have to say anything right now,” He tells you. “I just needed you to know how much you truly mean to me.”
And then he stands up and walks away, leaving you cold, confused, and alone with your thoughts.
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sparkrls · 1 month
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delayed proposal
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MASTERLIST
Summary: in which Harry’s got a few secrets up his sleeve and Y/N just wants to know if he’s going to propose
Author’s Note: this is the blurb i was talking about with bandmates!harry x y/n. remember to like and reblog because i crave validation. love ya <3
Word Count: 1.1k
•••
“Are you going to propose soon?” Was the last question Harry expected to be uttered out of Y/N’s bright pink lips.
It was just another Sunday night, the couple trying to enjoy those last fleeting moments of weekend relaxation before Monday arrived with the usual burden and obligations of being working adults.
In little less than 12 hours, Y/N would be back to her 9-5 job being an assistant to a high-class executive of a finance company. Her boss had too much authority for being so irresponsible and more money than anyone would need in a lifetime. What a luxury it must be to have your dad pass down a company you didn’t know how to run down to you.
Her boss wasn’t a horrible person, he was quite respectful and kind when asking her to do tasks, he was just a very exploitative executive. He had learned from his father to be unbending and demanding.
Y/N’s work paid a good wage, enough for her to pay her bills and still have a bit left. She wasn’t one to buy luxuries, though, preferring to save money up so she could one day quit her 9-5. And then dedicate herself to the things she did every day after work: picked up her red electric guitar, adorned a black skirt that bordered on too short, and perform for (currently small) crowds of people who cheered her band on as they played.
There wasn’t anything Y/N loved quite as much as the rush of being on stage, the bass making the stage shake with each loud thrum, sticks clashing with plates of a drum and the velvet voice of an angel, Harry singing through the microphone and his eyes on her and her fingers moving over the fret of the guitar.
They played small clubs and rundown bars, getting payed a poor wage for the extrenous effort used to get four adults with full time jobs to align their schedules in order to rehearse. Sometimes all they got were free drinks, but they took what they could get and did it for the love of it.
That was how they got here, on Harry’s couch, his arm draped around her shoulders, and her head on his chest. They were watching Bluey, the way they did most nights they spent together. He would always roll his eyes when Y/N suggested it, pretending to hate it, but she knew it was his favorite show, and he always cried at the emotional episodes.
Their instruments lay forgotten on the table, his blue guitar next to her red one, as they’d spent most of the afternoon drinking beer and writing a new song.
It was a question that had been lingering in the back of Y/N’s mind, and she wasn’t quite sure why she chose that moment to blurt it out, but she did. “Are you going to propose soon?”
Harry’s gaze turned to her, eyebrows raised in light surprise, a small breath exhaled between his lips in a faint chuckle. “What?”
It was too late to take it back, so Y/N sat up and told him, “You’ve always talked about wanting to settle down and get married.” His features remained in small confusion. “We’ve been together for a while. Are you going to marry me?”
“Well, of course I’m going to marry you,” Harry said, like it were some scientific fact that everyone knew and was unchangeable. “You’re my forever, baby. I’ve written about a hundred songs about it.” His lips turned up in a smile. That smile he wore every time he told her he loved her, with a cocky and smug edge as if he were teasing her, laced with affection.
“I don’t mean we have to get married this instant, but I just, I guess we’ve never talked about if we were getting engaged or when and I-“
“Baby,” Harry cut off her nervous rambling, chuckling. He kissed her, soft lips with cracked edges from the cold and dry weather. “I already know what ring I’m going to buy. I’m just saving up for it.”
Y/N’s mind blanked for a moment. “You’re already thinking about rings?” Her lips parted in surprise.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, silly girl. You’re not the only one thinking about marriage.” He smiled at her, reassuring her that he was just teasing. “In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m hopelessly in love with you.”
“Oh,” Y/N said, still in shock. Here she was, getting all nervous and insecure about marriage and he had already been planning to propose. Her question now seemed a bit foolish. She looked up at him and said, “You know I don’t need some needlessly expensive ring, right? You could buy it on Aliexpress and I couldn’t care less.”
Harry looked at her with slight amusement. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Y/N said with a small nod. “It’s stupid to spend money on a ring when it doesn’t make much of a difference.”
Harry sighed. “Baby, it’s not about the ring being expensive. It’s about the ring being a symbol for my devotion to you. And I want my devotion to be apparent in the beauty of it.” He tapped the finger on her left hand where the ring would lay. “No, I don’t have to spend money on an expensive ring. That’s why I’m not just getting a huge diamond. I’m getting something you’ll love.”
“But it’s expensive and it’s a waste of money on a simple ring-“
“Is it just a ring? Or is it a symbol of matrimony, of us being together forever?” Harry said gently, correcting her statement. “Not to mention you’re going to be wearing that ring every day ‘till you die.”
Y/N made a sound of contradiction. “Unless we get a divorce.”
Harry stared at her blankly for a few moments. He deadpanned, “Not funny.”
“Kinda funny,” Y/N said with a small smile.
She waited for Harry’s stern gaze to soften with adoration the way it always did. It only took a few moments for his composure to crumble and he leaned in close to her. His nose grazed against hers as he muttered quietly, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
The way he said it sounded like a declaration of love. Everything he said to her did. Because his love could never be called in to doubt. It shone through every word he uttered, every song he wrote, every thing he did.
His lips locked onto hers once again, the tension in his muscles melting away as if all he needed to feel complete was to be pressed against her. To have every inch of skin surrounding her, the taste of beer still on her tongue, and the scent of spring enveloping his senses.
“I’m going to marry you,” Harry uttered, an oath murmured against her lips before placing a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her close once again.
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petriwriting · 5 months
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Promise. - Theodore Nott X Reader
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Summary: Theodore gives Y/N a special gift, reminding them that they are his safety in an unsafe world.
A/N: I would imagine this takes place in 6th year, 'cause you know.. Voldemort. But beware I've been really into writing fluff for my comfort characters lately. This is very angsty. Extra heartbreak points if one of them dies at the battle of Hogwarts, use your imagination.
Late-night walks were common for the pair. Especially when they needed to get away for the night, with everyone going on in their world it was no wonder they both needed a break.
Theodore Nott was under the threat of his father, expected to side with Lord Voldemort, it was his reputation as a pure-blooded Slytherin. Perhaps in some sickening way, he felt the need to clear the family name of his father's wrongdoing. But deep down, he knew it wasn't right. They both did.
Y/n was by his side, as loyal as a Hufflepuff. through everything. On the nights his father became aggressive and violent, Theo came to them seeking refuge. Y/n always welcomed the boy with open arms.
They had been a pair since childhood, they attended dinner parties together, and y/n attended every one of Theo's quidditch games. In turn, Theo was there for y/n when classes were stressful, and life felt overwhelming.
It wasn't until that particular evening that things would change, possibly forever.
The two walked along the empty, quiet streets braving the cold air together. they had both been quiet, observing their surroundings and enjoying each other's company in silence.
"Y/n," Theo finally said, shattering the long silence that had been following them.
"hmm?" y/n's voice was soft, quiet. they were now entering a park square. someplace slightly more private than the streets.
"I've been thinking."
"About what?"
"About us."
y/n's heart began to race. surely this wasn't a breakup, how could Theo possibly be abandoning all they had, after all, they had been through? this couldn't be. y/n was so accustomed to hearing bad news these days that it was the only solution their brain could come up with.
"Y/n," Theo turned to them, holding their face in cold pale hands. "I love you, but I don't want to be with you in this war," he said.
"Teddy, I don't understand-"
"Please just listen." Theo insisted quietly. "This is not me parting ways with you, I- could never," he explained gently. "I propose that we run away. change our names, we can flee and start a new life together. without all the dangers of being here."
Y/n was unconvinced and looked down for a moment before locking eyes with him.
"I love you more than anything. But if we stay here our lives will be in danger, possibly forever."
Y/n couldn't deny that fact. The war had already taken people they both loved. It wasn't right to be talking about wanting to get married one day, have kids, and grow old together if it meant they would be living in danger, living in fear.
"It isn't right. We can't just flee. we need to fight this," y.n shook their head gently, partially in disbelief. "no matter what happens." the pair locked eyes and the snow began to gently fall around them, coating the park in a grey glow.
"Then promise me."
Theodore shuffled through his pockets, pulling out a tiny deep red velvet box. It was battered, aged, and torn. but it was still soft. "Promise me, that you'll stick around, no matter what." as soon as Theo mimicked y/n's words, soft tears began falling from their eyes, watching him toy with the box.
Out from the box emerged a shiny, silver ring with an elaborate stone placed in it. something very expensive no doubt. something that was purchased with his father's money. Theodore offered the ring to y/n.
"This was my mother's ring," he said quietly, his voice slightly shaking. "I took it from her things when she,-" Theo gasped quietly, the shaky breath taking the air out of his lungs when he tried to continue his sentence.
Y/n grabbed the sides of his face, the boy wasn't crying, Theodore rarely ever cried. but there was hurt in his eyes that pained y/n to see.
"I promise." barely a whisper. "no matter what Theo, I'll always be right here."
Y/n's soft touch brushed against Theo's cheeks before he pulled forward pressing their lips together in desperation. It was a sweet and heartfelt kiss, like two lovers that couldn't live without each other.
After the kiss, they embraced one another very tightly as the snow collected around them.
"I just want everything to be okay," Y/n whispered. "we'll be okay."
they pulled away from one another, each shivering in the cold. Y/n took the ring and gently twirled it around their thumb and forefinger. "Theo I can not take your mother's ring." it was dazzling. quite beautiful for that sort of thing. "I know how much this means to you." y/n said. Theo was insistent. "I've been wrong about a lot of things in my life, y/n. But I was never wrong about you. I want you to have it, keep it, my end of our promise." he insisted.
"Theo-"
y/n was promptly cut off. "Please take this. you know how much it means to me, you mean more than that." his heartfelt confession made y/n's stomach flutter, it was that same feeling they had when they were younger and Theo would hold their hand or say just the right thing. Theo grabbed the ring and slipped it onto y/n's middle finger.
"I'll guard it with my life." y/n said with another shiver, the later the night grew the colder the chill in the air became.
"Here, love," Theo said, taking off his coat and offering it to Y/n by draping it around their shoulders. "but Theo, you'll be cold." y/n retorted, but Theo was incredibly insistent that evening. "I can manage until we are safe at home," he chuckled softly. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."
As the two continued on their path, Theo wrapped their arm around y/n, in an effort to keep them warm and as an act of deep affection. Y/n leaned their head over onto Theo's arm.
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norrizzandpia · 4 months
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okay hi i love ur writing soso much
i saw this pov a few days ago on tiktok and i was wondering if you could write it about oscar
so basically she wears a thong that was poking out over her jeans but you could only see it if she bend down or lifted her arms up so throughout the day he asks her to like reach things from shelves or pick things up just sk he can see them finish it off however you want
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I LOVE THIS FOREVER
Bend Over (OP81)
Summary: In which Oscar acts like a teenage boy.
Warnings: language, LOTS of sexual innuendos
Note: Oscar would do this I know
He didn’t notice it until the afternoon when she dropped a napkin on the floor and bent down to pick it out. There, in the middle of their kitchen, Oscar was met with his girlfriend’s bright red, lacy thong sticking out of her jeans. He had faltered for a moment, on the phone with Lando and choking on air when his eyes landed on it.
“You okay, mate?” Lando had said, the boy wondering where his friend went after he had stopped in the middle of his sentence.
Shaking his head, Oscar swallowed, “Yeah, fine. Um… so, I-” He tried, but continued stuttering until he gave up and hung up the phone, telling Lando he would talk to him later.
He was too interested in the girl before him.
“Baby!” He exclaimed, shuffling over to where she was as she set down their plates for lunch. He hugged her from behind, hands around her waist as he pecked the side of her neck and smiled into the warm skin.
Her hand reached around to tangle in his hair and he let his eyes trail down, the gaping in the front of her pants giving him another sighting of her panties. He blushed, his innate reaction being jumping her bones, but he stopped himself, wanting rather to play around with her for a while.
So, that’s what he did.
Oscar started off by asking her to grab things for him, innocent.
They were sitting, lunches devoured, when he asked for water.
“Can you get me a glass, my love?” He inquired even though he was objectively closer to them.
Nonetheless, his wonderful girlfriend nodded along, “Sure, baby.”
He watched in vicious desire as she leaned her hips against the counter and reached up high for the cabinet, pants falling down in the process. That infamous cherry colored material made its appearance and he relished in the knowledge of what was underneath her clothes. She struggled to grab hold of the cup, underwear inching out more as she stretched her body further.
He would’ve helped her, but the sight was too delicious.
Continually, water became his favorite thing that day. Asking her for it at the most random times when his mind even slightly began to forget the exact red tinge of the underwear. He could tell she was getting confused, wondering why he was asking her for water and then proceeding to trail behind her to watch her pour it for him.
She didn’t say anything, however. She continued to do what he instructed even when he very clearly, purposefully dropped a pen on the floor and asked her to get it for him. She could’ve sworn she heard his camera click at that moment, but she wasn’t certain. Oscar was surprising when it came to his sexual tendencies.
If that was what you wanted to call it.
He was into anything and very expressive when it came to how much he was attracted to her body. Whenever she bent over, he would make a comment about her ass or the way it looked in the pants she had decided to wear that morning. She was used to him trying to get her in compromising positions, but when he stopped making comments about the way her round ass filled out the material of her jeans, she became suspicious.
Her breaking point came when he walked up to her and said, “Can you touch your toes?”
She groaned, “What the fuck is up with you today?!”
He retreated into himself, blushing softly, caught, “I don’t know what you mean?”
She shook her head, forehead coming to rest on her hand, “You’ve been asking me to get you water and bend over all today.”
He exhaled in a smile, looking away before looking back at her and saying, “It’s because I can see your underwear.”
She stared at him while he pulled out his phone and turned it around to show her a picture, “See? Hot, baby.”
What she saw was the underwear she had put on the morning on full display, sticking out of her pants while she bent over.
He had taken a photo.
She smacked him on the shoulder, scoffing, “Oscar! You sick shit!”
He laughed at her, turning off his phone and walking out of the room, “It’s hot as hell! And I’m your boyfriend!”
She ran after him, “Not for long with that picture on your phone!”
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