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fragiledate · 6 months
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cringetober day 27: babygirl pose(s)
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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#there should be a word for when youre talking around the tightness of tears#speaking against something that hurts#laughing specifically to undermine the seriousness of the statements youre voicing#the worst of both worlds. help me help me hahaha im not even joking hahaha but listen to the lies in my tone. dont focus on the words.#i want plausible deniability. but also i want u to understand my pain and give it a voice. speak it into existence because i cant say it#but if u do i might cry. that sounds hard that sounds like a lot. i kno i know. shut up. keep talking. do u think i dont feel it? i do#but if i split myself in two i can watch myself and suddenly it becomes funny. im not sure why. but i have a bad habbit of laughting at#inappropriate moments. because if its not funny then its just sad and what am i supposed to do with that?#i dunno. thats all to say my dad called bc i was looking at housing stuff and i was explaining some of the stuff im doing rn#and thats hard to talk abt without crying bc ive always been a cry bby but i didnt. and i love my parents theyre great#but they dont understand bc i havent told them all of it bc theres nothing they can do so y make them worry. and idk i also think they#think im less competent than i am. and part of that is just bc im their kid. part of that is bc there r things thst most ppl can do but i#struggle with. but its also not fun to hear: oh yeah i was surprised by how professional u sounded. or i think ur mom found u those#connections. when no. i did that. i made those things happen. i promise i can do things sometimes. but sometimes i cant. i dunno its just#it is what it is. whatever. decisions to b made. do i room with roommates for lower rent#or do i take an expensive place for a year for a single room? i dont want roommates but ill take them#i mean all the single places r like 950 at the very lowest without any utilities or anything but most r well over 1000 and like on a grad#student salary? i think not. not without losing money on net. i can deal with roommates. i have in the past. i wont b able to relax ever#but its fine. ya kno#just annoying. hah my dads sage advice was ah dont let it overwhelm u. go exercise. bc hes an endurance runner guy#and im like bro when i get home i have 1.5 hrs of daylight. but alas hes right. i do gotta run out my angers and its not enough#ugh. one more week. itll work out. and eventually ill walk into a counselors office like bro i just want u to tell me whether or not i have#0cd bc whatever the fuck it is that makes me do these things is absolutely destroying me. name the beast 0cd or 0cpd. tell me what box#i fit into. not that it matters but i feel like i cant complain until someone else rubber stamps me. actually then ill probably just obsess#abt how. actually. theyre wrong. ay fun times#i gotta shake shake shake my sillies out. and wiggle my waggles away. bc i never could let my kids songs go haha#unrelated
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ilovedirt · 1 year
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gosh dangit mother fuckers
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hunnylagoon · 1 month
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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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bluebeary-jay · 1 year
Text
How easy you are to need
Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: Joel notices that the peaceful life in Jackson has its consequences. he is not happy about it (based on this wonderful ask!)
Tags: TONS OF ANGST, but also FLUFF, established relationship, ahh intrusive thoughts (how much i hate them), Joel is probably ooc but i don't care anymore, also he's soft and insecure and vulnerable
Warnings: body dismorphia and lots of self-loathing on Joel's side, at one (two?) points borderline on smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hihihi, swearing, drinking (just mentioned), suggestive stuff bc apparently i can't help myself 😌
Word count: 8K ! (8028 specifically woah)
A/N: the next fic will definitely be shorter bc i really need to start caring less about the quality of my work, it takes way too long for my liking. buuut anyway as always 🎶i hope yall will like it🎶 this is my birthday gift for you guys 💕
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Joel looked at himself in the mirror with furrowed brows.
He pulled in his stomach and tried to zip his pants. It still fit, but barely. He undid the zip, turned to the side and looked at his reflection again, just to make sure.
Yeah. This pair was definitely loose until a while ago.
He glanced at the door, but didn’t hear you coming, so he sighed and looked in the mirror again. Joel was never particularly muscular, but he could no longer see those thin lines which accentuated his torso before. There was also a bit of fat above the hem of his jeans, and his frame seemed somehow heavier…
Good thing his left ear was directed to the door, because he heard the moment the water in the shower stopped running, which meant you were coming back from the bathroom. Joel spared himself one last wary look and zipped up his pants before turning around to your shared bed where his shirt lay discarded.
He was putting his arms into the sleeves when you entered. A couple of light steps, and then Joel smiled when he felt your arms wrapping around his torso. He glanced over his shoulder at you.
“You took your sweet time in the shower,” he pointed out, and he could feel your smile when you pressed your face to his back.
“We finally have hot water, so I’m gonna use it every chance I get.”
“You left some for me?”
You huffed a laugh and went around him, moving his hands away and starting to button his shirt yourself.
“There would be, if you took a shower with me.”
“Next time, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead softly, combing his fingers through your wet hair. He hummed. “Your hair smells nice.”
“It’s that shampoo Ellie didn’t want.” You shook your head with a smile. “I have no idea why, it’s fantastic.”
You buttoned up the last button and smoothed your palms over his chest and down, lastly resting them on his waist. Internally Joel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he could always feel this fold when you put your hands in that place.
“You look handsome,” you whispered, looking up at him with twinkling eyes and such a soft, love-struck expression on your face that Joel felt his throat constricting. Everything but the sight of you faded from his mind, and he joined his hands behind your back, pulling you closer into his chest and basking in this precious smile you blessed him with. “Especially with the bed hair.”
“It’s your doin’, you know,” he murmured in response, nudging your nose with his and reminiscing how you tugged and raked your nails through his hair the night before. “You gotta be careful with it, sweet girl. If you continue doin’ it, m’gonna go bald soon.”
You hummed noncommittally and leaned against his chest, standing on your tip-toes. “I’ll take it under consideration. No promises, though.”
Joel lifted his hand to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, reveling in the soft sigh that left your lips. You rested your palm above his heart, leaning forward to the point that you would fall over if he wasn’t supporting your weight.
But Joel held you tight and close to his body, gladly steadying you as you deepened the kiss, once again tugging on his graying hair in that way he adored. He wanted to tease you about it, but his thoughts strayed to the image of his body again when you lowered your hand from his chest to his side.
“You remember that tonight is this party?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joel gave up pondering about his physique and sighed heavily at your question, pressing his forehead to yours.
“Yeah, I remember. Regrettably.”
“I don’t want to go, either,” you whispered with guilt, as if someone would hear you both. “But Tommy really wanted us to come and… Just don’t make me go alone.”
“Hey, darlin’.” Joel took your face in his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I promised, didn’t I? M’not gonna leave you there on your own.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them. “And mind you, I gotta make sure no one will try to seduce and steal you away from me.”
You giggled, and you were standing so close that Joel could feel your eyelashes tickling his skin. He held you close when you tried to take a step back, and your lips collided again.
“That is the one thing you don’t need to ever worry about,” you murmured quietly into the space between you two. “How could I even look at other people when I have you all to myself?”
Joel’s reflection in the mirror flashed across his mind again and a small wave of uncertainty rippled through him, but it quickly disappeared when you opened your eyes and looked at him with this raw love radiating from them. Your every word, every affectionate gesture only confirmed his conviction that you meant every word you said.
So why did he still feel so uncertain?
*****
Life in Jackson was perfect. Considering the state of the world right now, living here was like winning a lottery.
Joel had a lot to be thankful for, he was well aware of that. No longer had he any fears or sense of guilt about going to sleep and leaving you and Ellie defenseless if something were to happen. He didn’t have to count rations anymore, worrying that the kid would be forced to march all day hungry. There was now no need to keep a watchful eye for new clothes if someone’s worn off, ripped or got soaked from walking in the rain, posing a threat of you or Ellie catching a cold.
Back in Boston it wasn’t much different, though he and you had at least a bed to sleep in, as uncomfortable as it was. But there was never enough food for all those people Fedra kept there, and the winters were cold as hell, leaving at least one of you a bit sick every year.
None of those things were keeping him awake at night anymore. The only people he had to take care of – you and Ellie – were safe and comfortable. None of you had to starve or freeze, and you all didn’t have to continue walking across the country for days and days without end, struggling to survive.
Maybe that was the problem.
Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that those luxuries he had an access to now were at the root of his problem. Before you all settled in Jackson, you were constantly on the move, fighting for your lives in one way or another, so of course he was… leaner and more fit back then. It was never something he paid attention to, though, never something he concerned himself with.
But now you three were living here, surrounded by more people than Joel could count, and he couldn’t help but… notice things about them.
Especially about all those men and women who looked at you in a different way.
Due to the nature of the party Tommy invited them to – mainly consisting of dancing and talking in the biggest bar in Jackson – Joel had a lot of time to ponder about his situation, all while nursing his drink and looking at you from across the room with his elbows resting on the table.
You were chatting with one of your friends near the counter, laughing and smiling so beautifully. No matter where Joel’s eyes strayed, they always came back to your person, as if you were the moon against the pitch black sky, reflecting some imperceptible light.
Some guy he knew by sight – Chuck? Bart? – walked up and tapped you on the shoulder, and from what Joel could tell, he was offering you a drink. He was standing way too close, though, and you took a step closer to your friend, shaking your head. Chuck – or Bart – persisted for another half a minute, but eventually shrugged and shuffled off, his movements tense.
Joel didn’t move. He knew from experience that you’d let him know if you needed his help.
As if sensing his gaze, you turned your head and sent him a radiant smile. He mirrored it, lifting his glass slightly like he was toasting you, which made you do the same before resuming the conversation with your friend.
His smile disappeared as soon as you stopped looking at him. Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, feeling a headache coming from the dull lights and loud chatter all around.
It were moments like this when it hit him just how old he was compared to you.
You were a sweet, young thing. Funny, sharp, drop-dead gorgeous… No wonder some people were seeking your attention. That guy was just one of the half a dozen he saw or heard about since you moved to Jackson.
Joel knew you were a loyal sort – God, he knew that, he knew you for so long now – but every time he saw you talking to someone else, his treacherous mind started to wonder if he wasn’t somehow keeping you chained to his person.
It was probably alcohol talking, but Lord, if he wasn’t reminded of how old he was compared to you every time he saw you next to your peers. You still had so much life ahead of you, and he was pushing sixty, for fuck’s sake. Before long he’ll be old and decrepit, unable to bring something useful to the table or help you in any way, and you’d still be as pretty as ever, trapped in a relationship with an old man.
For example, that guy – Chuck, or whomever – was way closer to your age, had handsome features, and Joel knew for a fact he was working at tree felling, so he had to be muscular, too.
Joel was once, too. Once.
He subtly ran his hand across his stomach under the jacket, his brows furrowed, and leaned back on the bench to get rid of those damned fat folds.
He sighed and downed the rest of the liquor in his glass, trying very hard not to think about it, not to put himself down like that and let those cruel thoughts fester in his mind, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop comparing himself to this guy, and also… how you looked next to him.
Shit. What if he was doing you more harm than good by continuing to stay with you?
“I could pickpocket you and you wouldn’t notice.”
Joel looked up, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. You were standing over his table with your head tilted and still that beaming smile on your face.
“What are you thinking about, handsome?”
He opened his mouth, glanced in the direction of the bar, and closed it. There was no sign of any of the people you just talked with.
“Nothin’,” he replied, maybe a little too dryly, so he quickly changed the subject. “You havin’ fun?”
“Yeah, it’s nicer than I thought.” You looked around and then spotted the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Do you want me to bring you another one?”
“No, there’s no need,” he grumbled, but you had already put your drink down and sent him a wink.
“I'll be right back, baby.”
Joel hissed your name but you just looked over your shoulder with a smirk, swinging your hips provocatively to the music and ignoring him completely. He sighed heavily, slumping in his seat.
He needed to get his shit together. Fuck his insecurities, he didn’t want to take his frustration out on you when you were nothing but a ray of sunshine in his life, always so good and affectionate.
Joel’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when he searched for you in the crowd and noticed another man, this time one he didn’t know, swinging his arm over your shoulders while you waited at the bar. He tried to read your body language from here, but you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with the man’s actions. Joel furrowed his brows, a pit of uncertainty forming in his stomach again... but then you threw the man’s heavy limb off your shoulders and went back to Joel’s table as soon as you got the drink.
“Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, taking a large gulp despite telling himself earlier that he was done drinking for today. “Were you okay back there?” He pointed his chin towards the bar.
You sat down next to him and smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”
Joel knew you long enough to recognize when you were teasing him, and he smirked despite the doubts swirling in his mind.
“Was that guy givin’ you any trouble?” he asked lazily, deciding to play along.
“Would you beat the shit out of him if I said yes?” you asked with your eyebrows raised, and Joel shrugged, acting nonchalant.
“Probably.”
You giggled and bumped his shoulder with yours playfully.
“Then no. Peter’s a good guy. Just a little,” you seemed to be looking for the right word, “uhm, persistent.” When Joel sent you a dubious look, you rolled your eyes and made a face. “He’s politely hitting on me, but doesn’t get that I’m not interested. He works at the same place I do.”
“If he keeps makin’ you uncomfortable, that’s not very polite.” You squinted at him and Joel lifted his hands in fake surrender. “M’not sayin’ anythin’. You can take care of yourself, I know that.”
You hummed melodically and glanced at the bar, then back at Joel. Then back at the bar again where that Peter guy stood. Joel noticed you biting the inside of your cheek, so he gently nudged your knee with his.
“What’s on your mind, sweet girl?”
“Maybe you could help me make it clear that I’m taken?” you blurted out quickly, making him crack a smile and chuckle under his breath.
It was so very easy to forget about all the problems in the world when you were there, sitting right next to him and warming his soul and body with your mere presence.
“Come ‘ere,” he breathed and tugged you gently to sit on his lap. You faltered, but he gave your hand another light tug, and finally you let him guide you, putting one arm around his shoulders and making yourself comfortable.
Joel’s hand mindlessly went to rest on your thigh and he rubbed it comfortingly. That Peter guy, as he noted with satisfaction, was staring right back at you, eyeing the way your body was pressed flush against Joel’s with a twisted face.
Once the eyes of the both men met, Joel leaned in and kissed your neck, keeping eye contact the entire time. Peter turned away, taking a large swig from his glass.
Joel felt your muscles relaxing, and you giggled adorably next to his ear at his antics, hiding your neck between your shoulders when he nibbled at your skin lightly. Then your hand covered his, the one lying on your thigh, and stroked his skin lovingly.
Maybe Joel was keeping you chained somehow. Then again, he was but a selfish creature after all. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ever truly let you go.
*****
The next few days – which then turned into weeks – Joel spent wondering. Mostly about what to do with his predicaments.
He had a couple of them.
The first problem was the nights. They became more difficult since he noticed… details about himself that weren’t there before, and which bothered him more and more with each day.
Joel used to love the nightfall, especially since you all settled in Jackson. In those evening hours no one bothered him, he could finally relax, spend some time alone with you, and later collapse on the bed to get a good-night sleep.
Well, not anymore.
The bedtime unexpectedly became the most stressful one for him. He was so fucking mad at himself, because laying down and having a chance to hold you in his arms was something he treasured for the longest time, but now his own insecurities stood in a way of it.
You loved cuddling and being close to him in your sleep, and Joel was never bothered by it – hell, he initiated those moments more often than not. But now he started noticing more and more how this layer of fat on his stomach moved and looked like when you draped your arm around him or snuggled closer to his chest, and it became all he could think about.
It bothered Joel so much that he started wearing a t-shirt to bed, even though he hated it with all his passion. When you asked about it, he lied that he’s cold, but in reality he was always sweaty by morning. It didn’t seem to make any difference to you, though, and you didn’t shy away from pressing your body close to his, and even slipping your hands under his shirt when you were spooning him. Some days Joel was waking up with you lying on his chest or having your arm slung across his belly, and every time it caused a lump in his throat.
He knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it – for God’s sake, you probably didn’t even have any idea that he had a problem with himself – but what once was a wonderful start of the day, now became a bitter reminder of all those things he was insecure about.
Recently he built a habit of waking up before you – he did it often before, but he always stayed in bed and waited for you to open your eyes, too – and carefully disentangling himself from your embrace. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel wonderful to be enveloped by you in this way, but once he stirred awake, lying still was a herculean task. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, his skin was itching and buzzing, he was sweating from nerves and a lot of horrible, self-depriving thoughts were flooding his mind.
So once he woke up, he’d go take a shower, trying to be a little bit louder than necessary in hopes that you’d already be awake when he gets back – so that he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not laying back down next to you.
The second of his problems was that you began to watch him more closely.
He didn’t know when it started happening, but in hindsight he realized it was just a matter of time – he was acting weird, after all, and you knew him too well not to notice anything.
A couple of times in the last few days only, Joel caught you staring at him in silence. Your eyes were solemn and your forehead sad, though you were quick to smile and act like nothing was amiss as soon as he turned your way.
You must have known something was wrong, but Joel didn’t ask about it. Honestly, with all that was happening in his own head, he didn’t want to know.
But at the same time it was as if nothing odd was happening. You were your usual self, a blessing in Joel’s life, and you still sought to be close to him and spend as much time together as possible. You still told him you loved him, surprised him with unexpected gestures of affection…
Just like today – you hugged him from behind while he was dressing up, started kissing his shoulders so tenderly and murmuring sweet nothings into his skin… In those moments Joel could almost forget about everything that was nagging him. It was easy to believe that you still liked the way he looked, that he was deserving of you, when you treated him with nothing but overwhelming love.
But the itch in the back of his mind never really disappeared. Even though he wanted it to.
Those thoughts filled his mind while you were sitting on his lap, telling him some story from work in a soft voice. You two were at Tommy’s, waiting for him to get back from helping his wife with something, and the day was so beautiful that you all went out onto the patio in front of the house to enjoy the unusually warm weather for this time of the year.
Joel’s hand was on your thigh, stroking it absentmindedly, while he nodded to whatever you were saying, but for the life of him, he could not focus.
Has your physique changed as well? Joel didn’t care about those things, of course, and in his eyes you were as breathtaking as ever – maybe even more, since so many of your worries disappeared and he got to see your smile more often. And you still felt perfect under his hands when he was holding you at night, still looked like a goddess every time he got to admire your naked body.
But even though he wouldn’t have cared either way if you gained some weight or looked any different, his body still bothered him.
You rested your head on his shoulder, and Joel fixed his attention to the wind-blown tree crowns in the distance.
Maybe he should start exercising.
Joel never liked the idea of waking up early and running down the streets in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, or going to the gym where everyone seems to stare and judge you, but it was never necessary.
With how much traveling, heavy-lifting and working he had to do, he never concerned himself with the way he looked. Hell, these things are the last on your mind when you’re fighting for your life in this god-forsaken world. But here, in Jackson, it was different. Life was good, and you were happy. And as stupid as it sounded for him, Joel wanted to look good for you.
Maybe he should ask Maria to assign him to extra patrols. He already volunteered for the morning ones, but perhaps…
“You’re quiet.”
Joel didn’t realize you stopped telling your story. He pressed his lips together and his hand on your thigh stilled.
“Sorry.”
“No need for that,” you reassured him quickly. Then you cupped his cheeks and lifted his head gently. “I don’t mean ‘now’, though, I mean… lately, in general.” Your eyes were flickering across his face, like you were hoping to read the answer from his features. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”
No. Hell no. It was bad enough that Joel himself was aware of his issue, he didn’t want to make it even more noticeable by pointing it out to you.
Which reminded him – he moved his torso away from you only a few millimeters.
“No, babygirl,” he answered. He brushed some hair behind your ear, smiling softly even though inside he despised himself for lying to you. “Everythin’s fine.”
You didn’t seem convinced and still were studying his face with concern. Joel resumed petting your thigh, wanting to put you at ease. He could worry about himself, but he didn’t need to concern you with his problems, too.
“I promise,” he added. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
That look in your eyes didn’t disappear, but you hummed and dropped your hands. It didn’t take a genius to know you didn’t believe him.
“If you say so,” you answered at last, and then covered his hand on your leg with your own. “But remember you can talk to me whenever you want. About anything.”
Jesus, your kindness was only confirming his concerns if he was the right person for you. Joel shook his head with a crooked smile.
“You’re gettin’ sappy.”
“It’s because I’m worried,” you shot back without skipping a beat, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand. “And you’re not making it any easier.”
“There’s nothin’ for you to worry about,” he repeated, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. But he failed.
You pressed your lips together and then made a move to get up from his lap without a word. Joel held onto you delicately, not letting you stand up.
“Wait, darlin’,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Didn’t mean to say it that way. I just… feel tired. Sorry.”
Your eyes softened when you took in the regret and weariness on his face. Joel felt your fingertips on his jaw, but before you could question him further, Tommy returned from the inside of the house with a grin.
“Age is a heavy burden, eh, ol’ dog?” he teased, apparently having heard the last bit of their conversation. The younger Miller placed three bottles of beer on the table, and winked at you. “That’s just how it is for us now. Enjoy your youth while you still can, punk.”
Joel felt a sharp jab in his ribs, not unlike being stabbed. He couldn’t find it in himself to look at his brother, less alone laugh at his teasing.
Of course Tommy didn’t mean anything bad by it, but his words were just a bitter reminder of the ever-present pit of Joel’s stomach.
The weight of you on his lap suddenly felt a lot lighter, and he himself felt so, so very heavy and tired.
Old.
Joel could feel your eyes boring into his face, but a second later you turned to Tommy, taking the burden of filling the uncomfortable silence.
“It’s already started for me. Sometimes I feel like my bones want to kill me prematurely.”
“M’sure Joel won’t let that happen. He’d fight your skeleton if you said it’s botherin’ you.”
You snorted and shook your head, but your smile faltered when you turned to Joel again. He almost broke down right then and there from the guilt and tightness in his chest.
And the dark feeling inside him just grew when your eyes stayed sad and concerned for the rest of the day.
*****
It had to end.
Joel could no longer pretend everything was alright like he wasn’t dying on the inside every time you did as much as hold his hand. He felt horrible about lying, avoiding spending time together and denying you affection he knew you so loved receiving.
If he was being honest with himself, he wanted this affection, too. Undisturbed with self-doubts and guilt.
He fucking craved it.
Those last few weeks, his evenings were mostly spent away from you and the warmth of your shared home. The nights, on the other hand, when he would sneak in and quietly lay down next to you (but just a little further away), became full of intrusive thoughts and wallowing in self-loathing.
No matter what excuse he came up with, you were persistent in holding and being close to him during the night, and Joel discovered that the only way to prevent you from doing it was to come to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep.
But it was a damn torture.
The worst part was when he was coming home to the sight of you lying amongst the tangled sheets and blankets in his bed. No matter if you were drooling or a pillow has imprinted itself on your cheek, every time this sight made Joel weak in the knees. You looked like a gorgeous, priceless painting, and it pained him to disrupt your rest with his arrival.
He tried to volunteer for evening patrols, because then he’d have a real reason to come home late, but not only Maria didn’t want to pair him with anyone during those hours – she also suspended him from all patrols whatsoever. Joel was understandably furious, but the damn woman threatened to tell Tommy about it if he kept being ‘a stubborn pain in her ass’. She sent him back home, murmuring something about spending more time with you, which he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.
Joel sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed and hiding his face in his hand.
If Maria of all people could see that there were some problems in your and Joel’s relationship, then you had to notice, too.
Christ, he was the worst.
Joel didn’t want to push you away, of course not. He wanted to stay with you more than anything, but that desire did nothing to diminish the guilt suffocating him. For some time, he felt like the luckiest man alive, having the privilege to call you his and every day come home to you. But now with all those little things he started to notice, he felt like a fraud.
It wasn’t even about him not deserving you anymore – it was that you didn’t deserve this fucking treatment he was giving you these past few weeks.
Fuck, he had to tell you the truth. About the patrols, sneaking out, distancing himself, all of it. He couldn’t bear lying to you a day longer.
Joel stood up and pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and patted himself under his armpits and on the back, then reached for a clean one.
He’ll figure it out. He just needed some time to come up with a way to–
“Morning, handsome.”
Joel flinched and turned around quickly, not having realized you were awake, but whatever excuse he had in mind, it fell dead on his lips.
You stretched with a groan, reaching one arm high above your head and rubbing your eyes with the other hand. A sleepy smile danced on your lips when you looked back at him with sparkles in your slightly puffy eyes, and Joel didn’t have any other word to describe you than ‘ethereal’.
“What are you doing?” you asked groggily, relaxing against the pillow and looking him up and down.
“Uhmm…” he hesitated, clutching the t-shirt that was in need of washing close to his chest. His gaze was drawn to the window. “Goin’ out, actually. I’ve got some work…”
“No, you don’t,” you interrupted him and swung off the covers from his side of the bed. “Get back here.”
Joel looked at you with surprise.
“What?”
“You heard me, Miller. Get your ass back on the bed.”
He crumpled the shirt in his hands, hesitating, but his eyes softened as soon as he looked back at you and your raised eyebrows – like you were challenging him to just try and refuse you.
But how could he, when you looked so pretty lying in his bed and demanding to have him close to you? How could he ever deny you anything?
With a defeated sigh, Joel started putting the t-shirt back on, but the sound of you humming in protest stopped him. Your face was grumpy when he glanced up.
“Nah. No shirt.” You extended your hand in his direction, making a grabbing motion. “Come here.”
Joel didn’t move. “Why?”
You rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped down onto the pillows, looking up at him with an adorable pout.
“Because it’s been a long time since I got a chance to admire my handsome, sexy man,” you answered with sincerity, and then grinned. “Now come here. If you ditch your shirt, I’ll consider ditching mine.”
He still didn’t move. You were patient, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, you sent him a small, sweet smile. “If you get cold again, I promise to do something about it, love.”
Joel physically felt his heart softening at your words and at the sight of you.
With a silent sigh – and only a split second of hesitation – he took off the t-shirt and quickly laid down on his back next to you. He felt a bile rise in his throat, though he had no idea why, and it became almost choking when you shifted closer to him, putting one hand on his chest.
“You’ve deprived me of this beautiful view for too long,” you whispered, kissing the place below his collarbone, and then going up to the base of his neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”
“There’s nothin’ to miss,” Joel muttered, not moving a single muscle. He had his hands entwined on his stomach and to look in your direction was the biggest effort anyone could demand from him now. “We sleep next to each other every night, sweetheart.”
“You know what I mean,” you breathed into his neck, leaving love bites wherever your lips strayed. “You’re going out so early these days. And you work late.”
“Patrols,” Joel grunted with gritted teeth, his muscles tense and breathing ragged as your warm palm caressed his waist. “Sorry.”
“You work too hard, love.” You sat up and swung one of your legs over his lap. Joel actually shivered when you took his hands in your own and placed them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”
Oh, fuck.
Jesus fucking Christ, Joel was sure he was going to drop dead at any second now.
“Darlin’…” he began, but you made a noise in your throat and leaned in to kiss him deeply, pressing your body to his. Joel loved when you initiated those moments between you two, and you looked so fucking hot sitting on top of him – but for the life of him, he could not relax.
“It hits me every once in a while how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered in such a sweet, adoring voice, like you didn’t hear him. You pressed your lips against his stubble again, igniting every inch of his skin with your touch. “Let me enjoy you. I love you so much, you know that?”
“I…”
I love you, too.
Lord, he loved you so much. Why was it so hard to return your affections, then? Why did he feel like the biggest crook by letting you love him?
Joel let out a shuddering sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. It was sweet, but heated at the same time and, without even thinking about it, he found himself wrapping his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled against his lips and murmured something he didn’t quite catch.
A groan escaped him when you bit his lower lip lightly, your soft palm going down, from his chest, to his stomach, down…
He couldn’t do it.
Joel abruptly rose to the sitting position and grabbed your wrist, his eyes sad and painful.
“I’m sorry, baby” he said with furrowed brows, gently setting you aside and off his lap, before standing up quickly. “I’m so sorry, babygirl, I love you, I promise, but I can’t… I don’t feel good today. I’m sorry.”
“Joel…” you started, but he shook his head, putting his t-shirt back on and turning away from you not to let you see the absolute wrecked expression on his face and wetness in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, feeling like he’s about to throw up from the nerves and the burning shame. He cursed himself internally, wanting to turn around, to take your face in his hands and kiss you deeply, but he… he... “I’m so…”
All strength left him in a blink of an eye and suddenly he slumped on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Joel desperately tried to get a grip on himself, but his chest felt so tight, and all the worry, all the guilt and fear, and self-loathing came crashing down on him all at once.
“M’sorry, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trembling and that damn muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt the mattress dipping and your tentative touch on his face.
“No, no, baby, it’s alright,” you started saying quietly, trying to take his cheeks in your hands, but he didn’t let you. “Oh, Joel… Come here.”
You gently pulled him into your arms, guiding his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Joel hid his face in your skin, realizing with dread that his own shoulders were shaking.
For God’s sake, he needed to stop, he needed to put himself together and not show any weakness–
But it was you. It was your warm embrace and your loving hands brushing his hair, and your quiet whispers while you held him. It was your kindness and understanding, and stubbornness coming from love. You weren’t someone he had to hide from.
So he let you in. He let you hold him.
“Joel, please. Talk to me,” you spoke up after some time, and though your tone was soft, it somehow sounded too loud in the silence of the room. “I need to know what’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.”
“Nothin’ is goin’ on,” he answered out of habit, not even moving a muscle. “I just… fuck, sorry.”
“Stop apologizing and talk to me.” Joel pursed his lips, while you massaged his back gently. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it together, okay? It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise.”
He planned on telling you. He wanted to tell you and get it off his chest, but… he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not when he broke down in front of you, for fuck’s sake.
But you deserved to know. If not to help him, then at least to make you aware of what you’ve gotten yourself into. It wasn’t fair to keep you in the dark and at arm’s length because of his absurd fears.
He wetted his lips and inhaled softly, but no words came out.
You gently lifted his head and Joel immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was no way he’d be able to say anything if he looked at you.
“You can tell me, baby,” you whispered sadly, touching the side of his face. “Anything. I promise everything will be alright.”
Joel was silent for a couple of moments, before he swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his pounding heart.
“I don’t have any extra work,” he started very quietly, so his voice wouldn’t break. “I was lyin’ to you, and I… I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get sent on any patrols now, actually…”
He shook his head and sighed heavily, faltering. He knew that wasn’t the problem, and although lying to you was one of the things he was guilty of, it wasn’t what started all of it. And you must’ve known it, too, because you kept looking at him, not saying anything.
“The thin’ is, I… God dammit,” he murmured, turning his head away from you and hiding his face in his hands, still keeping his eyes closed. “I can’t… I don’t– I have a problem with myself,” he finally blurted out, not even caring now if you understood his muffled words. “I keep…”
Fuck, man, just say it.
“I’m… I’m not as fit as I used to be,” he murmured, not moving an inch in fear that you’ll spot the wetness on his eyelashes. “I don’t want to do you harm, darlin’, keepin’ you from… Jesus, I don’t know. From livin’ your life, happily and to the fullest.”
“Joel…” You whispered with pain in your voice. “Is this what it is about?”
Joel shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath, still as quietly as he could.
“I’m old,” he said with tiredness he didn’t know he had in himself. “And you… You’re so pretty and young, I…” He lowered his forehead onto his hand, rubbing his temple. “I would like nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, darlin’. But I’m afraid I’m not… not good for you. You could do so much better–”
“Hey. Hey, none of that.” You forced his hands away from his face by cradling it in your own palms. “There’s no one else I’d rather share my days with.”
Joel just shut his eyes tighter, trying to contain the tears that started to gather in them.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But in a couple of years I’ll be… God, I’ll be fuckin’ sixty, and you–”
“Do you really think I care about that?” you asked softly, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, but he shook his head, like you didn’t understand. “Joel, I love you more than anything in this world. And I know you love me.” He heard the faintest smile in your voice, and it made him feel so, so terrible with himself – that you were trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have been another one of your worries… “So where’s the problem? I want to be with you. Only you.”
Joel pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he draped his arms over his lap, like he was trying to hide the evidence of his insecurities from you, even though his torso was already covered by the t-shirt.
“You’re young and beautiful,” he repeated, still unable to find strength in himself to look you in the eye. “And I’m anythin’ but. I just don’t wanna…”
Joel didn’t know what else to say.
He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. He didn’t want to push you away.
“Just don’t want you to be unhappy,” he finally murmured.
You let out something between a short chuckle and a stifled sob, and your fingers found Joel’s, still wrapped around his stomach.
“Do I look unhappy to you?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Joel finally willed himself to glance at you, if only to see for himself – which turned out to be a mistake. Your eyes were sad and teary, but not full of hurt or distaste like he feared, and you still had this faint smile on your face. He quickly turned his head away and you must’ve realized how you looked because your hold on his fingers tightened slightly. “Not right now. In general, did I ever do something to make you think I’m not happy with you?”
“No,” he answered quietly, not even having to think about it. “But it doesn’t…”
“I told you before, how can I even look at anyone else when I have you?” you spoke up when he faltered. “You’re beautiful to me, Joel, even if you don’t believe me right now. You’re amazing and kind, you’re fucking hot, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn at times, but I love you so much, and every day I find another reason to fall for you all over again.”
Joel met your eyes again, looking for any hesitation or deceit – but he didn’t find any. As always, you were sincere in everything you said.
He realized, with another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, how much he missed your affection that he alone deprived himself from. How much he longed for this intimacy that once came so easily to him.
“M’sorry,” he muttered at last, lifting his hand to your face and trying to ignore those damn tears spilling from behind his eyelids. “Never doubted you, babygirl, but I just didn’t know how… how to tell you.”
“It’s okay, Joel,” you nuzzled your cheek into his palm, planting a kiss on the inside of his hand. “It’s alright, c’mon here.”
Not letting go of his hand, you tugged him gently and leaned back on the pillows. With great effort he refrained from fighting you, and instead let you pull him down, laying his head on your chest.
And in an instant, everything was alright again. The moment Joel heard your heartbeat under his ear and felt your gentle hands on the nape of his neck and his back… it was like coming home. This feeling of warmth spreading across his limbs made him feel safe for the first time in weeks.
It was so long since he fully let you hold him.
Maybe that’s what he’s been missing.
“I adore you, Joel Miller,” you whispered into the top of his head, holding him close to your heart. “All of you, and just the way you are.”
Joel couldn’t help it – a small smile crept onto his lips.
“Called it,” he murmured. “You’re gettin’ sappy.”
You snorted and kissed his hairline. “I think you need it, handsome.”
“Maybe I do,” he conceded, not moving his head from your chest, and sighed tiredly. “Dammit, missed holdin’ you like this, babygirl. M’so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you countered, but he continued.
“I just didn’t know how to talk about it… How to tell you that I feel bad. About… the way I look.”
Joel felt your hands on his cheeks, and although he really didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he let you lift his head.
“I love the way you look,” you said quietly, in a tone that made Joel’s old heart flutter. “And our bodies change, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, I’m really happy that both of us can enjoy this kind of life.” You leaned in and nudged Joel’s nose with yours, closing your eyes. “Every change of our bodies is a sign that we’re finally safe after all we’ve been through. 
“But you look gorgeous as ever, sweet girl.”
“M’glad to hear it, Mr Miller,” you teased, but then your smile turned wistful. “But you know, I was insecure about my looks, too, not sure if you noticed. My stomach and thighs, and,” you rolled your eyes, “well, my butt.”
Normally Joel would throw a playful remark, or try to make you giggle, but this time he stayed silent. He just listened to your soft voice, drinking in your features.
“It worried me for some time. But you still put your hand on my leg when I was sitting with you, and you never shied away from telling and showing me,” you stressed this word, a teasing note in your tone, “how much you like my body.”
“‘Course I do,” he murmured quietly, lifting himself on his elbows and leaning over you despite your huffs and efforts to keep him in place.
“So I thought that maybe you didn’t care about this extra weight, or even didn’t–”
The rest of your words were swallowed by Joel’s lips when he kissed you deeply and hungrily. So many strong emotions were swirling inside his chest, he didn’t know anymore what to do with himself. At first you tried to continue your train of thought, but soon gave up, erupting into giggles when Joel latched his lips onto your neck and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to bring you in even closer.
“I didn’t care,” he was whispering into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “I don’t.”
“Then you see– Joel, stop it!” You squealed when he carried on with his assault, not giving you a second to gather your thoughts.
“M’so lucky to have you,” he whispered while peppering your face in soft kisses. “Thank you, babygirl.”
You finally managed to free your arms, and you cupped his face in your hands with a huge grin that Joel decided he wanted to see every day. Another adorable giggle escaped you when he snuggled his scratchy cheek into your palm.
“I know it will take time,” you said gently, but firmly, looking deep into his eyes. “But no matter how long it’ll take, I will make you understand how incredibly attracted I am to you.” Joel hung his head low to hide a bashful snigger, and your smile grew. “Understand?”
“Yeah, yeah. Understood, ma’am.”
“Good.” You pulled him closer to plant a slow kiss on his lips, and asked seductively: “I can start right now, if you’d want to. I don’t want my handsome man to feel insecure about any part of him.”
God, he loved you so much.
Joel hid his face in the crook of your neck again, his heart squeezing with adoration and disbelief at how it came that he’d been blessed with someone like you.
“Y’know what, sweetheart? I think it’d do me good.”
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wileys-russo · 6 months
Note
all i can picture in my mind is jealous bf less who KNOWS she shouldn’t be jealous, and she’s just gone quiet bc she doesn’t wanna say anything. and then that creates a whole thing with r who feels like maybe she’s don’t something wrong. and then it all blows up and leads to a guilt confession from less about why she was quiet
shut down II a.russo
"-well baby i think that was quite literally everyone. you have now met my entire family!" you smiled softly, having pulled your girlfriend away to a quiet corner of the back deck, your cousins wedding kicking off in full force behind you.
"i can't promise i remember half their names love i won't lie." alessia chuckled, hands finding yours as you played with her fingers. "i don't know half their names and to some of them i'm their husbands, sisters, best friends second half cousin on my dads side." you joked, coming from such a huge family did have its challenges.
"you look so beautiful tonight amore mio." the striker sighed, the way her eyes lovingly roamed your body making your cheeks flush red. "as do you baby, the matching colour scheme was a nice touch." you smiled, hands fussing with the suit vest which adorned her top half, the taller girl wearing a two piece vest and pants set that perfectly matched your dress.
"my favourite part about this dress will be watching it fall to the floor later." alessia almost purred, lips ghosting yours as you raised an eyebrow at her suggestive tone. "mm and my favourite part of those suit pants will be watching them fly across the room later, much later." you teased, leaning in as if to kiss her but pulling away at the last minute.
"come love, we should get back inside." you smiled knowingly at the look on her face, taking a few steps away and offering her your hand, wiggling your fingers. "just you wait." alessia warned with a smirk tugging at her lips, accepting your hand and allowing you to pull her back inside the venue.
as soon as the two of you stepped inside you were both whisked away into the hurry and flurry of the dance floor, twirled around by distant relatives as your heart warmed to watch alessia dance with your neice.
"well hello stranger." you jumped at a pair of hands landing on your waist. "oh my god ellie? hey!" you gasped at your childhood neighbour, pulling her into a tight hug, missing the way your girlfriends eyes instantly locked onto you from across the room.
alessia knew she shouldn't be jealous. you'd never given her any reason to be, you showered her with your love and attention whenever she wanted it and alessia knew you would never ever cheat, that's not who you were.
so then why she felt her eyes burn and her stomach tighten at the unfamiliar girls hands all over you, the way her eyes roamed your face and subtly dropped down to your exposed cleavage, the way she picked you up and twirled you round.
that was her job, you were her girl, only her hands could touch you like that and only her arms could wrap around you and protect you from the world.
but she was tugged from her jealous haze by a small hand pulling at her pants, your neice holding up her hands expectantly as alessia's face softened, twirling the little girl around who squealed happily, the noise catching your attention as you glanced over ellie's shoulder, face softening at the sight.
"come on! we have so much to catch up on." alessia glanced up to check on you, having made sure you were in her sights all night, so alarm bells rang in her head as she looked around the room trying to spot you.
"hey oli, save me a dance for later?" she knelt down and spoke to your neice who nodded happily before running off after her brother as alessia continued her search for you.
she finally found you sat at your seat on your assigned table, ellie sitting in alessia's place as the two of you chattered away without a care. "oh! here she is." you perked up as you spotted your girlfriend making her way over.
"so you're the infamous girlfriend. hi! i'm ellie." your friend stood in alessia's path toward you, pulling her into a surprisingly sudden hug as alessia returned the gesture though a little more awkwardly.
alessia was quick to sit down in her rightful seat, ellie moving to the vacant chair on your other side as the two of you resumed conversation, alessia's hand moving to rest somewhat protectively on your leg.
as the conversation continued the blonde found herself struggling more and more to ignore the unwarranted jealousy bubbling up inside her. ellie was absolutely lovely and alessia detested her for it because it even more so added to the fact that alessia had no right to feel this way.
and yet with every laugh she pulled from you, every little inside joke you two shared or funny memory you reflected on, every little subtle touch of your hand or your face as she’d grab at you with a grin, alessia’s stomach coiled further and her grip on her drink would tighten.
she felt isolated from you despite being sat right by your side, she wanted to be pressed up against you on the dancefloor, her making you laugh and her whispering sweet things in your ear as the two of you swayed and stole kisses inbetween each song.
but she wasn’t, and that’s not to say you were purposely excluding her from the conversation with your friend, quite the opposite actually if anything it was alessia who was isolating herself.
knowing she didn’t have the right to feel this way but unable to ignore or move past the reality that she did in fact feel this way, alessia shut down and switched off.
you’d continually try to pull her into the conversation, wether it be you highlighting her varied achievements both on and off the pitch, or recommending a new restaurant the two of you had recently been to.
you’d tried a multitude of different ways to get your girlfriend to engage and yet each time she would just smile politely or give an answer with no more than a few words, going back to sipping on her drink as her eyes avoided yours.
you didn’t fail to notice when her touch slipped away, her hand moving off your knee to rest in her lap, inching away as you tried to reach out for her again, a small frown painted on your features at the rejection.
at first you felt worried, trying to maintain conversation with ellie whilst also ticking over and over in your mind and memory if you’d done anything to upset the taller girl beside you who looked like she wished she was anywhere else but.
but then when your countless attempts to rope her in to engaging with you failed, your worry turned into frustration which was very close to boiling over into anger.
“im just going to go to the toilet and freshen upa bit. babe come with me?” you left her no choice, your voice seemingly sweet but your girlfriend instantly caught onto the slight tone of malice which lay beneath its initial layer.
apologising to ellie who waved you off and stood to go and mingle, you grabbed alessia’s hand and all but dragged her away from the table.
“what the hell was that? why are you being so rude?” you questioned once the two of you were safely locked inside the toilet, thankfully no one else in a single cubicle to interrupt the fast brewing argument.
“i wasn’t!” alessia shook her head, again avoiding your eyes as you huffed. “really? then why do you look like you’d be anywhere else but here with me?” your voice cracked slightly at the end, emotions betraying the tough facade you were trying to play into as your girlfriends eyes snapped to yours at the waver.
“baby i want nothing more than to be here with you, nothing makes me happier or prouder than having you on my arm and by my side both at events and in life, i promise.” the blondes hands were quick to settle themselves either side of your face, placing a reassuringly tender kiss to your lips.
“then why were you being so quiet and stand-offish at the table?” you frowned, the striker letting out a pensive sigh and dropping her hands from your face. “it doesn’t matter.” alessia sighed, dragging her hands down her face as you cocked your head curiously.
“it matters to me. did I do something wrong?” you asked quieter now, insecurity starting to hint it’s way through the fortress of your mind. “what? no amore mio i promise, it’s absolutely nothing you did.” she assured quickly as your frowned deepened.
“then talk to me, please.” you requested, the concerned look in your eyes enough to cause alessia’s heart to crack. “its really nothing, it’s silly.” alessia sighed, tilting her head back as you stayed quiet, urging her on with a pointed gaze.
“okay. i was jealous of ellie being round you and i knew i had absolutely no right to be and she was actually quite a lovely girl so I sort of just…shut up and shut down?” alessia winced at the admission, your face softening at her words.
“lessi. you’re right you have no reason at all to be jealous!” you assured, arms reaching up to loop around her neck as you stared up at the taller girl. “just seeing her hands on you and her making you laugh and all the little inside jokes, well it wound me up a little.” alessia muttered much quieter as again your smile grew.
“you really are the sweetest you know that right?” your nails traced lines on the back of her neck. “see this? i’m yours baby. yours and yours only!” you gestured to the small golden A necklace which had hung round your neck for months now.
“but its cute you got so worked up. next time just talk to me about it, after all you’re normally quite good with your mouth.” you teased, grinning as the look in the blondes eyes shifted slightly.
“you know mi bella ragazza, you did say i’d find that dress on the floor later…well would you look at that? it’s later.”
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draiys · 3 months
Text
cardig☆n
you drew stars around my scars
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but now i'm bleeding...
luke castellan x child of athena!fem!reader
genre fluff / angst
warnings spoilers ig, but i kinda went off canon bc i haven't read it in a while (and bc i couldnt bring myself to write it) im sryyy, crying, mentions of being burned (but its not literal), my attempt at angst, kissing, mentions of not being able to breathe (but theres no like choking or anything), open-ended(-ish?) ending
wc 1k
a/n requested here ! i hope u like it :')
my requests are open !
☆☆☆
You used to think you knew everything. 
Sure, it sounds a little conceited, but it’s who you’ve been told you are.
Y/N has a plan. Y/N will know what to do. She always does.
No one ever thought to tell you that it was okay if you weren’t always exactly sure of everything.
And so, you’d risen to it. Always knowing, expecting, deciding. Everything.
But now, as Luke stands in the sand in front of you, rain washing into his curls, you’re not sure you’ve ever known anything.
“They don’t care about us.” He hisses. “Don’t you see that?”
His boot presses forward as he steps closer to you, his calloused hand reaching towards your cheek.
You pause for a moment, as if you’ll let him touch you, and you almost do, but step back quickly after as if his hand is a fire you’ve only just remembered will burn skin instead of a beautiful, twisting, orange arc.
“Y/N,” he whispers, but you’ve stepped back into another place, another time. A memory.
Of the only other time you’ve felt like you don’t know anything, calloused hands that reach for you, and a raspy voice whispering your name.
Luke.
You’re curled into the wall against your bunk, knees pulled up into your chest, tears tracing down your face.
And he’s smiling softly, his hand held out. 
“That is your name, right?”
At your nod, his smile widens.
You decide you like his smile, the way it pushes up his eyes into crescents, and so you take his hand.
He gently tugs you up and out of bed.
“I know it’s hard, but I promise it will be okay.”
You’ve heard that about a thousand times since you’ve arrived at camp, but you think this is the only time you’ve heard it that you’ve believed it even a little.
His fingers rub against your palm, and his hand is warm, and you look into his eyes. They’re warm and glowy and comforting, and you think maybe you’ll manage being in this camp, if he’s here.
Now, his eyes are the coldest you’ve ever seen, and a frown pulls the corners of his mouth down. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and you realize you’ve never felt scared of Luke until now.
He shakes his head slightly, and it’s Luke, shaking his head, grinning as Athena’s owl glows above your head. 
“I should’ve known you were too smart for us.”
You scoff, going to push at his shoulder, but he grabs your waist and you fall into his hug. You inhale, his cologne winding around you, and he lowers his head to whisper into your ear.
“I’m gonna miss you.”
You pause, arms moving tentatively to hug him back, chin pushing further into his shoulder.
A wave of emotion hits the inside of your gut, pulling your breath tight.
“Luke,” you breathe, and he pulls his head back to look at you. You can’t say anything, but he understands what you mean by his name.
I’ll miss you more. Please don’t leave me. I need you.
“It’s okay,” he promises, and he tucks your hair behind your ear, wiping a tear from your under eye, and you realize you’re crying.
He leans forward, and his gaze drifts to your lips, and yours drift to his, and suddenly they’ve connected, you’re not sure when that happened, but you pull him impossibly closer. You ignore the screams of the campers around you as you realize you’re kissing him. Luke, who took you and put you behind his back on the first day of camp, who’s listened to all your worries and sobs and laughs for a month that seems like years.
And you finally pull away, the need for oxygen coming up in your lungs, squeezing them because you can’t breathe, can’t think, you don’t know anything, who is he?
Luke frowns harshly, angrily, and you almost trip backwards trying to get away from him.
“I’m sorry,” you say again. But you’re not sure if you’re saying it to him or to yourself. You don’t know who he is anymore. Because this surely can’t be him, not Luke who kissed you and held you while you cried, who taught you to use a sword, patiently steadying your grip, who was the only person that told you it was okay if you didn’t have a plan.
“Luke,” you whisper, and he creeps closer, and you forget about the fire, and you let his lips burn into you.
☆☆☆
It’s been a month since Luke left, and you’ve never felt emptier, even before you met him. You’d been holding tightly onto the pieces of your heart, until he’d come and told you he would keep them safe for you. But now he’s left with all of them, and you’re even emptier than you were before. 
You’re a wreck, skipping meals and staying in bed instead of going to trainings.
You stare out the cabin window, at the starry night you and Luke used to sneak out to go lie underneath together.
There’s a knock at the door, and you stay unmoving, glancing at the clock. Whoever’s got a question for an Athena kid at 2am can come back in the morning. But then there’s a sound that makes you freeze. A short knock, and then a louder, longer, one. Like a heartbeat. Bu-bum. Bu-bum. Your special knock, with him.
You’re not sure what compels you to get out of bed, pulling your sheets aside lazily, because it must be the worst idea you’ve had in a while. But you twist open the door, heart thumping like the knock as your breath catches over your throat.
The porch light shines down over the dark figure, face hard to see, but of course you’d recognize him anywhere.
“Luke,” you whisper.
All the coldness that lingered in his eyes is gone now, the familiar warmth taking them over again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry,” he says again, and you wonder if maybe the fire has gone out, and you pull him into a tight hug as he burns you.
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
Text
red dress (pregnant)
1.8k / horny!Joel x pregnant!reader / joel fics
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Warnings: P in V sex, pregnancy, mild body insecurity, use of "daddy," Joel is really horny but it's bc you're so beautiful and he loves you. Pre/non-outbreak, I8+. thank you @xdaddysprincessxx for your pregnancy help.
Happy mother's day, y'all 💐 | it's this couple.
Pregnant with twins.  It was an offhand comment, an empty promise Joel made in the heat of the moment. But here you are with four months to go.  You put on a flowy dress for dinner and you’re looking at yourself in the mirror, turning to the side, cradling your belly and trying to wrap your head around how big you feel already when Joel comes out of the closet with a different dress. He’s only fastened one button of his shirt so far, and he’s not wearing an undershirt.  The open bottom of his shirt exposes his little belly, the product of your own cravings, which turns you on in its own way.  Khakis, no belt, no shoes.  The dress he's holding is fire truck red, low-cut, soft and stretchy. Pre-pregnancy. 
"Babe, that's gonna be way too tight," you frown.  He puts both his hands in it and pulls them apart to show how stretchy it is.  
“You said it yourself when we were trying,” you call over your shoulder. “You said I’d be waddling.”
"Never gonna live that down, am I , sugar?” He smiles.  “Can ya try it on just for me?" 
He lays it on the bed, then comes up behind you, sliding his hand along the underside of your belly with one hand and groping an engorged tit with the other.  He kisses your neck lightly and his cock hardens against you as he rubs your swollen belly and massages your aching tits which aren’t quite as dwarfed by his massive hand these days. 
You were already wet, but now you’re dripping.  It doesn’t take much these days to make you horny as hell.  Your baseline is horny to begin with, and Joel can hardly keep his hands off you long enough to go out in public. 
“Ugh,” you groan.  “Just for you, daddy.”  His cock presses against you as he inhales and his hands make their way to your hips. 
He begins to gather the skirt of the dress with his fingers, the hem rising higher and higher as the fabric accumulates in his hands at hip-level.  
When he has all of the skirt in his hand, he lifts the dress over your head and you help him take it off.  His fingers spread and his palms snake around you again, feeling every curve of your naked body.  “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs over your ear.  “So damn sexy. . .you’re gonna look so hot in that dress”  
“I'm gonna cry if we can’t get it on.”
“You’re not as big as you think babe.”
“But I will be soon. . . then what?”
“Then I’ll love every inch of you,” he kisses your jaw. “as much as you love every inch of me,”  he grinds his arousal into you for effect and a bolt of desire weakens your knees. 
-
He gets the dress from the bed and you’re still a little hesitant, but you’re persuaded by the  bulge in his khakis as he brings it back. 
He holds it over your head and helps you put it on.  He’s right, it’ll fit. He pulls it down over your tits and belly almost effortlessly.  It’s form fitting, but not at all restrictive.  
He backs up to look at you and his eyes go wide.  “Jesus, fuck,” he whispers. 
You swallow thickly, projecting that he must be remarking on how huge you look.
“You’ve never looked sexier,” he says, his chest rising as he gets closer again and clarifies,  “In clothes, I mean.”  
Your breasts swell over the edges of the plunging neckline. The form-hugging fabric leaves nothing to the imagination, emphasizing the perfect silhouette of your belly.  Not the best choice for dinner with his parents. He's thinking with the wrong head.
Joel gets behind you again and turns you toward the mirror so you can both see your sexy curves.  
His hungry mouth latches onto your neck, his eyes straining sideways to stay on the mirror as he palms your breast where it overflows.  He slips his hand inside the neckline and massages your breast as his other hand slides down over your belly and he  moans at the sight of you so swollen with him.  His hand reaches your mound, then you spread your feet slightly.  His large fingers press the fabric of your dress between your legs as he ghosts your clit and puffy lips.  He's hard as a rock, slowly pressing himself against you as he stares at you in the mirror, entranced.  
“Gonna have to have you right now, sugar” he murmurs in your ear. 
“Dinner’s at-”
“Don’t care if I ever eat again.”
“Your parent-” 
“Don’t care if I ever see ‘em again.”
“I-” You cut yourself off with a sigh as his tongue drags against your neck and his teeth bear down gently while he maps your curves with his hands. 
-
He’s feral,  and you’re gushing wet.  Your eyelids feel weak.  Your body hums for him.  His fingertips on your hips gently turn you around.  He grabs your ass as he ushers you to the bed and sits down on the edge.  You stand between his knees as he pulls your panties down to your ankles, then hikes your dress up just enough to cup your swollen, dripping pussy.  
Then he gently hovers his hands under yours, grazing your fingertips, and says "c'mere," begging you into his lap. You hesitate, not wanting your belly between you.  He senses your hesitation and scoots back on the bed, moving all the way to the pillows, not taking his eyes off you.  He stacks two pillows under his head and unbuttons his pants, chest heaving under his half-buttoned shirt as he unzips his pants and slides them off, along with his boxers. 
“C’mere, sugar.”    He looks tormented with his cock in his hand, thumbing a bead of precum.  “Don’t make me beg.” 
The dampness of your panties is cool against one foot as you step out of them and leave them on the floor.  You kneel on the bed, your dress still hiked up.  You walk on your knees toward Joel and he looks at you though half-lidded eyes, wetting his lips.
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” His deep voice breaks with arousal. 
You keep making your way toward him.  When you’re hovering over his feet, he can’t help but gently slide one up your inner thigh, but you stop his foot before it hits your dripping seam.  You’re always so wet these days, and he can never get enough of it.  Your combined horniness makes for some late mornings in bed and unplanned nights in.  But you’re especially wet right now.
He sharply inhales, then can’t wait anymore.  He sits up and takes your hands in his.  You come a little further, hovering over his knees, and he embraces you, nestling his head between your ample breasts, inhaling, licking, sucking, kissing your beautiful ripples and lines. He removes a breast from your  neckline and groans at the sight.  He takes your nipple into his mouth.  You’ve told him how sensitive they are, and he’s careful as he circles his tongue, then plants wet kisses.  He groans, unable to wait another minute to be inside you.  His hands slide around and down to your ass and he grunts as he squeezes, beckoning you forward.  
-
He lays his head back down on the pillows as you position yourself over his stiff, aching manhood.  You take his cock from his hand into your own and tease him, dragging the tip through your wet folds and rubbing your clit with it several times.  His eyes follow the swell of your belly as your hips tilt up and down, using the weeping head of his cock as a toy, then you nestle his tip at your entrance.  
“You look like a dream, baby.  Feel like one, too.”  
It’s been a while since you’ve ridden him, but the look on his face and the softness of his voice leaves no room for you to feel self conscious. 
“Need you, daddy," you whine. 
You sink onto his stiff member, and he groans as you slide down to the hilt, your swollen lips meeting his soft public hair.  You tilt your head back with a long sigh as he lifts his hips and bottoms out, groaning “ugghhh.”
You don’t think he’ll mind if you keep the dress on.  He interlaces his fingers with yours, and you begin to rock your hips, his big cock nudging your g-spot. He’s already breathing heavily.  The chain around his neck slides on his chest, calling your eyes to the smooth cleavage of his  perfect pecs, exposed by a sliver of his half-buttoned shirt.  His cock fills you up so perfectly, and the way his eyes rove your body make you feel beautiful as you roll your hips into him and he gently lifts his back in a perfect rhythm that fills you to the brim each time and rapidly builds your climax. 
You ride him at a slow rhythm.  His cheeks flush pink and his neck blotches red as he moans.  You lean forward and your belly meets the soft flesh of his, the softness of his happy trail making your insides swell closer to climax.  
“I love you, baby,” he whispers.  “So damn much.” 
“Love you too, daddy,” you say as you sit up a little and ride him a harder.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes.  “Gonna be a pretty mama.”  His eyes dart back and forth at your tits, looking almost confused at how perfect you are.  His brow furrows. He clenches his jaw, then takes a deep breath, which tells you he’s close.  “Come on, sugar.”
“Yeah,” you pant.  “Fill me up, daddy.” 
You’re close, too. He moans as you plant your palms firmly on his belly and slowly lift yourself up and down on his cock, the dress hiked up enough for him to watch as your insides pull on his cock.  Then a buzz rushes through your body, tightening your overflowing breasts with goosebumps, puckering your sensitive nipples, Making your thighs clench down on him. You moan as it seizes your core and your walls clench around him.  
Joel’s hips lift into you and he shudders as he erupts inside you, each massive pulse of his cock intensifying your pleasure.  He continues to gently move his hips as his balls empty and you gush around his cock.  
When he’s empty, he sits up and lightly caresses your belly through the red dress.  You carefully get off him, more of your juices falling out with his cock,then he kisses you long and deep.  He spreads his legs around you and coaxes you into lying back against him, getting your combined spend all over the dress.
Then he calls his parents to cancel dinner.  Another unplanned night in.  
-
Thank you guys so much for all your support, reblogs, and comments. I love you all!!!
-
All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy
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kittykattropicanna · 18 days
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Okay new Simon Riley AU but i need everyone to stick TF with me here
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Retired!Reddit!Simon anyone????? NO BC HEAR ME OUT I PROMISE
Imagine Retired!Simon. his served for decades, in that time he meets reader, gets married, had kids, ect, ect, ect.
After he retires, his completely lost and out of his element. he cant work anymore due to his chronic back pain from year of service and integrating back into society permanently turns out is a lot harder then he originally anticipated.
he starts getting really, really depressed. Days start blending into each other and his three sons start to notice their dads is doing it really tough.
SOOOO they decided to make a reddit account for him. they make him join a bunch on military sub-reddits, maybe askreddit and things alike just so he can have something to do that isn't watching the football all day
he actually turns our to really, really like it. he can post all about this crazy military carrier, maybe even a little about this childhood (which he feels comfortable with because its all anonymous) and maybe even shares a little about his wife (reader) and three boys.
i can imagine after a while he starts gaining A LOT of popularity because holy shit his stories are so interesting and his lived such a crazy and inspiring life.
it becomes his way to connect with people that aren't just his wife and kids and he starts getting so much support from other people it really starts to boost his mood again.
i also imagine people start asking for dating advice and stuff from him because his always boasting about reader on his reddit. he kinda becomes an internet dad in some way 😭😭😭😭 like people genuinely trust him with their LIVES and i'm imaging some of his response are so fucking funny 😭😭😭😭😭
Maybe take it a step further and his sons create a youtube channel for him that he can make videos about this interests such as guns, car repairs, motorbikes, ect and the internet EATS THAT UP AS WELL bc absolutely massive hot ex SAS DILF that is obsessed with his wife and kids wearing a skin tight black tshirt and a balaclava while talking about this interests 😭😭 everyone loves him sm
like imagine his boys showing him tiktok edits of him and poor Si is so confused bc why is he watching himself get thirst trapped over on some strange app he had never heard of before 😭😭😭😭😭😭 his like 50 leave him ALONEEEEE
if this goes forward i plan to write a big chuck of it in a reddit sort of format almost like you were scrolling through the app and seeing him post. Readers would be Si's wife, so even though you would be reading the text in the third person, every time Si would mention his wife, he would be referring to you if that makes sense???????
idk please tell me if this is a little to niche 😭😭😭😭😭 am i cooked or a creative genius???? ill let you decided
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
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Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya pt. lll
Part l here Part ll here
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Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: After promising Sukuna to do everything he wants in exchange for him sparing your friends, you find yourself in a bitter fight with Jogo. While you feel like dying, Sukuna enjoys teasing the hell out of you...
Warnings: this is basically Sukuna flirting with (y/n) through the newest episode so it has no real plot, not proofread bc I'm having a nasty headache, forgive me
Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut @arehzhera @mynahx3 @wifenanami @ploylulla
You know how reckless it was, making a deal with the devil himself. But you just had to do it. For your friends, for Megumi, for Yuji. Maybe he will be able to regain the control over his own body before Sukuna is even able to harm another soul, maybe everything will turn out alright.
God, how much you beg for your mantra to be true.
“First things first. You.”
His finger darts towards the volcano curse whose forehead is soaking wet in sweat.
“If you land a hit on her or me once, I will fight on your side.”
You can’t believe your ears, whole body screaming at you to run away. Even though Gojo-sensei made it look so easy, you are very aware of the fact that this cursed spirit standing in front of your very own eyes is not to be messed with. How on earth are you supposed to keep up with him on your own, how are you supposed to survive all of this?
“A human?”, he cursed spirit questions, eyes darting towards you in disbelief.
“I hate waiting. Make your decision or die”, Sukuna replies dryly, rolling his eyes while all you can do is stare at him in pure horror.
He can’t be serious about that, right?
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”, you hiss at him, his eyes darting towards you in nothing but amusement.
“Nothing easier than that”, the cursed spirit replies.
You aren’t even able to comprehend that the cursed spirit lifted its arm when you get yanked into the air, followed by a wave of scorching fire.
Fuck fuck fuck. You know you are good, you know you are well-trained. But this? The whole ground underneath catches fire, gets eaten up by countless flames.
What the hell are you supposed to do?
“If you want to survive, you will have to stand close to me”, Sukuna purrs, his arms wrapped tightly around your ribcage from behind while jerking through the air with you.
How disgusting. The thought of feeling your boyfriend’s tight muscles against your back but knowing fully well that the man pressing his frame against yours is nothing but a psychopath makes your guts turn. Your hands fight desperately for your escape, to get out of his iron grip around your body. But instead of letting go, he chuckles into your ear, his body rubbing against yours.
“Pathetic. You might have a strong will, but your body is still as weak as that of any other human.”
“Why not letting me go then? Why did you safe me when I am a weakling in your eyes?”, you scream on top of your lungs.
“Because you’re fun to mess with.”
You stare at him through wet lashes, mind going completely blank. He can’t be serious about his senseless words, why on earth is he doing all of this? Is it because he knows that Yuji loves you? Is it because you are a decent hostage?
“Oh, there he comes again. Duck your head.”
Your usual cool composure is gone in the wind when another ball of fire is yanked towards you, reflecting in your wide-open eyes. A toe-curling scream escapes your lips, hands instinctively holding onto Sukuna for dear life-
Hot tears start to sting in your eyes. The bitter truth is that you don’t want to die. Not through the hands of a cursed spirit, not because of Sukuna, not even through your own force. You want a happy and long life, you want to grow old with Yuji and your brother by your side.
But the way this cursed spirits yanks towards you, eye narrowed when your gazes meet tells you more than urgently that your life is in serious danger.
You close your eyes, breathe in and out. Is there anything you can do to escape this situation? No, your faith lies in the cruel hands of Sukuna – the hands of the king of curses, the hands that are responsible of countless deaths. When he’s done playing with you…
You’ll be next.
“Balling your eyes out? How unusual, (y/n). Do you need a shoulder to cry on?”
This is the time. You have to choose between staying alive for a little longer or risking it all and telling yourself fall into the scorching hell underneath. Your eyes scan the area around you, mind pondering about a way to escape him. If you’re fast enough, you might be able to make it…
“Don’t get stupid ideas. Remember our deal, (y/n). If you break it, I’ll kill everyone you love without even blinking.”
The oh so sweet tone in his voice is replaced by so much taciturnity than your blood freezes in your veins. Your orbs stare at him boldly with your head up high. No, you have to keep on fighting. You have to stand up to him. For your friends, for your brother.
For Yuji.
“I won’t break it”, you assure him, earning a maniac grin instantly.
Oh, what a beautiful sight you are with tears streaming down your face and your eyes of determination.
“So, what now? You said you wanted me to let you go, right? Nothing easier than that.”
His grip around your body loosens. Before you are able to get a hold of him, your body flies towards the ground, cutting through the hot air.
“Sukuna!” you cry out desperately, arms flying around without an aim.
What are you supposed to do? Is there a way your technique might help you? If Megumi’s shikigami were here to catch you…
But it isn’t. And you’ll crash into the ground with full force within the next seconds if you don’t come up with a plan.
“I want you to beg for it, (y/n).”
You let out your breath, eyes piercing through the man flying above you. That fucking asshole. Nothing is further from you than to worship a creature like Sukuna.
“Go to hell!” you shout over the noise of the rapid air around both of you.
Do you really have a choice, though? If you want to live, if you want to survive Shibuya, you have no other choice than to do what that man wants.
“Fuck”, you curse under your breath, closing your eyes.
You have to do this.
“Please safe me, Sukuna”, you press out.
“Not enough.”
The heat of the ground becomes almost unbearable, with every breath your lungs feel like bursting from the hot air. Time runs out.
“I beg you with all that I have, please safe me Sukuna!”
His hands grab your body tightly before he catapults both of you into the air again.
“See? Wasn’t hard, was it sweetheart?”
Your fast and shaky breaths ring in your ears. That was close, way too close for your liking. What is all of this about?
He comes to a stand on a nearby building, still holding onto you while his eyes roam around the area in amusement. You really are a handful, the mix of emotions reflecting in your eyes making it so enjoyable for him to toy with you. And that oh so sweet scent of yours. You feel just like he imagined it, your heartbeat hammering against his very own chest.
“Out of breath, sweetheart?”
That fucker. He seems so unbothered by all of this, the whole city underneath your feet going up in flames. What about the people? Please, hopefully Maki was able to escort all of them out.
“Shut up and get moving, aren’t you able to see that he attacked us again?” you bark at him.
The dark night sky is discoloured in crimson, deafening noise keeps moving towards you. Without saying another word, Sukuna grabs you firmly by your waist and pushes your body up in the air along with himself.
“Let’s play a little.”
Your eyes aren’t even able to comprehend the movement around you. Fire blasts around your frame, just inches away from burning your skin. Without saying a single word Sukuna lifts you off the ground and holds onto your back and knees. You want to scream at him to let you go, you want nothing more than to free yourself out of his grasp.
But you are powerless. This fight that lays itself out in front of your very own eyes would have killed you in the matter of seconds if it wasn’t for Sukuna. These targeted attacks, the sheer force of his cursed power. All you can do is stare at the scenery with your glossy eyes wide open and your hands holding onto Yuji’s uniform for dear life.
The untouched part of Shibuya comes nearer and nearer. You squint your eyes, observing what looks like people on the ground. Wait…Your heart sinks immediately, the feeling of throwing up becomes almost unbearable. That there is Panda. Panda from Jujutsu High, panda your comrade.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Your hysteric voice doesn’t seem to interest him the slightest, bodies still aiming for the humans to your feet. No, you can’t let that happen, you can’t allow him to hurt your friends. Even though he swore he won’t hurt them if you do what he wishes…Sukuna is no one to trust.
“Panda, hurry up and run!” you scream on top of your lungs.
His soul almost leaves his body when realizing that it is Sukuna who holds you in his arms, thick fear clouding your sight. How did you end up here? He wants to turn around, to free you out of his grasp. But instead his feet are about to start moving, on their way to get him out of this mess-
“You won’t”
Everyone around you stops in their tracks, completely crushed by the sheer presence of Sukuna. Gently he lets go of you, letting you stand on your own wobbly legs.
“I hereby forbid every person in a 100-meter radius from here to move until I say ‘now’. And of course, I will kill anyone who violates that rule.”
“Sukuna…”, you mumble, eyes wide open by the sheer sensation of a fucking fireball shooting your way.
He chuckles to himself.
“Not yet.”
“Sukuna!” you bark at him, the sky completely on fire by now.
“Still not yet.”
“Sukuna, you promised!”
You fist the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer to you while staring at him intensely. If he won’t let them go immediately, all of them will burn to death. When his eyes meet yours, they are filled with nothing but amusement, lifting his arms painfully slow.
“Now”, he announces along with clapping his hands.
But he himself has no intention to leave this place, let alone letting you flee along with your friends. No, instead he holds onto your body tightly when a wave of fire, magma, rumble and death washes over you. Fuck, this will definitely burn you to the ground. Out of instinct you hide your face against his chest, squinting your eyes shut.
Is this how you die? Because you’ve got hit by a random fireball at Shibuya? What would Megumi say if he knew about all of this, would he be proud?
Your heart skips a beat. Definitely not. You acted like a coward, pressing yourself against the king of curses in order not do die. What about Yuji? What about your plan to free him?
“Now you’re in the mood to cuddle, huh?”
He moves fast. In the blink of an eye your body gets pressed against the ruin of a nearby building, his hands wrapped around your nape and wrist while all you can do is stare at the man in front of you in silence.
“What do you want from me?”, you breathe out.
“Oh, sweet little (y/n). You are my favourite toy since we’ve first met. Let’s just have a good time together, shall we?”, he hums in satisfaction.
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blingblong55 · 5 months
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'Tis the time for cuddles -141
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^COD men bc they are so cute and deserve this
Based on a request:
Hi, could I request a 141 cuddle pile on a cold fall morning with platonic reader? It could be gender neutral or fem, up to you. :) ---GN!Reader, fluff, platonic!relationship, cuddling --- A/N: Niall Horan is the reason I write fluff tbh…so let's thank my favourite husband
Autumn, the season for the golden leaves, pumpkin lattes, cardigans, the snuggle you get to your blankets on cold mornings and this moment right here, cuddling your teammates. You were in the middle. Your head on Price's lap, Soap getting caressed by your soft touch and on your right side, his head on your chest. Gaz between your thighs, smiling now and then when your hand would scratch his head. Ghost on your left, head on your stomach and looking up with puppy eyes if you stopped playing with his hair. This was the only time he took his mask off, just in the comfort of your room and with his mates.
"Price," you look up, begging for more head rubs. He chuckles, "You're so needy and for what," he pretends to be annoyed but smiles when your face softens from his touch. It's peace for once in your life. You can't control most things in this life, not where you get deployed, not where you die, not how you die and how you live on as a soldier. Yet, there is one thing that can be controlled, this, this moment right here with your people. The fucked up family you made along the way, the soldiers that find reasons to finally let go and sleep in the comfort of your bed. A tight cuddle, trying to keep anyone from falling off the bed but it's nice.
It's not perfect, nothing will ever be perfect and yet for a moment in this life, being in bed, cuddled on a chilly autumn morning, is the closest it gets to perfection. You sigh, content with the life you've been given. No wars, no grenades thrown, explosives scattering bodies or blood on the walls, it was just a cosy room. A room, filled with snores, warmth, too many body parts begging to be comforted and you, in the middle of such a beautiful moment. "Sleep," Ghosy whispers as his thumb caresses your tummy. You smile and then Soap nuzzles his face to your neck.
"Don't leave me out," Gaz whispers and you nod. "Like I ever would," you smile and he hums happily. His face is now on your tummy, Ghost tries to move him aside so he could be the one on your soft tummy. "Stop mate- R/N, tell 'im to stop," Ghost looks up at you like a child looking at its parent. "Boys," you say in such a way they look at each other and nod. "Sorry," they both mumble and coexist as they comfort themselves with you.
This is how the day is, you all get up, hair all messy and Price keeps snoring loudly. For the first time, everyone has a lazy day, with takeout for lunch and takeout with beers for dinner. Conversations about life, memories, lazy laughter, promises for the future and memories for old soldiers to tell their grandkids. All in one day, a life far from their usual, just for one day.
Tags:
@airghostlyfox @aethelwyneleigh27 @liyanahelena
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suguru-getos · 6 months
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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 20﹕✦﹕┈・୧
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-> event masterlist
kaveh x f!reader -> brat taming
a/n: listen !! there’s nothing i love more than seeing the sunshine baby kaveh snap 🤭❤️‍🔥 it gives me so much joy to write him as you all know and i hope ya’ll have fun with this:DD also ik i’m spamming my works today but tehee! i’ve got some time and some writing juice 🧃 flowing !!
warnings: overstimulation, (vibrator!play ;) brat-taming themes, doggy!style, 🍬 SWEET 🍬 AFTERCARE 🫶🏻🥺 bc its kaveh !!
“no no no, baby, where’re you goin’?” kaveh stopped you from moving any further, hands gripping your hips and forcing them back into his plunging cock. a whiny sigh escapes you as you feel your folds absolutely destroyed by him. you both loved and hated it at the same time. the way the vibrator attached to your clit, taped by kaveh had no remorse along with his thrusts. you had squirted twice for him already, body reduced to a slump & mush. putty in his hands.
“i’m not done yet, stay and take it.” he commands, your ass slightly reddened just by the ruthless impact of kaveh’s pelvis against you, the grip on your waist bruised with how tight he’s holding you in place. you couldn’t possibly slump down or escape from the sweet torture kaveh decided for you.
“all this because you had to be mean to me, why? do i not take care of you?” kaveh spoke between his own ragged breaths, truth be told — you wanted him to behave like this. why else would you tease him in front of the kshahrewar group in one of the meetings? hands slipping up and down his thigh while he was speaking? kaveh had shot you warning glares, coughed for you to take the hint but oh no — his little brat was relentless. time for some sweet karma for you.
“please- s’ too much.” you whimpered out, and knowing how spoiling and kind kaveh is, you knew if you begged too much. he’d stop. he loves you a tad too much & you know how spoiled you are under his wing. “is it now, little one? is it?” kaveh raised a brow, thrusting with the same intensity while maintaining a conversation. “should’ve realised that when we were at the meeting huh?” he taunted, slapping your ass firmly to hear a sorry squeal out of you. “please- kaveh- please- won’t happen again.”
oh you sound so sweet apologizing to him, babbling mess because your brain is fried from cumming too much. clit practically throbbing at the pain & overstimulation, body covered in overworked sweat. yet you are in utter bliss, shaking and spasming like you’re supposed to. “please- kaveh- won’t do it again i- i promise.” your voice almost slurrs this time, as you feel another unforgiving orgasm seep through you suddenly. ripping out from you and letting you cry out for him. your mouth was open in a silent gasp, gritted teeth and a painful groan as you spluttered your walls all over kaveh. “aw, was that the fourth one?” kaveh sounded gentle, riding it out for you & also tipping off the edge. he’s filled you thrice already, and is shooting blanks, too. “god- you- you’re so tight baby.” he croons, riding it out for you.
you’re reduced to sniffles, slumping down as the vibrator is turned off & kaveh gently pulls out of you. his eyes are tender and sweet again, his affections back in place as he rubs your back soothingly. “there there, it’s okay.” he cooes, hoping to ground your floating senses. he eventually turned you on your back, taking the vibrator off of you, kissing your pelvis and your forehead deeply. “i’ve got you sweetheart.” he reminds, watching as you gasp at every little touch. your whole body felt like it was on fire, hissing even with tender little touches on your swollen & puffy clit.
kaveh craddled you in his arms, kissing all over your face and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. you’d never been so brainless & yet blissful. “i love you baby, gonna clean you up when you can tolerate some friction down there, i promise.” kaveh crooned, kissing your collarbone and talking to you about how he wouldn’t have done this unless you wanted it, giving you the surety of the whole scene, giving you the power he took away while making you submit. <3
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starb3rrys · 6 months
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I just saw Sleeping Together Hcs and AHGZICZGFI, so I'd like to request a part 2 with Jouno and anyone else you like to add if you want to. Bc the first is SOOO CUTEEEE >.<
Hello!! Ah- I am so happy to hear you found my "When Night Falls" Hc's cute. I would be delighted to write your request, hope you enjoy!!
✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮
When Night Falls ✩Part 2✩
Ft. Jouno, Dazai, Fyodor || Part One
✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮
Jouno
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Sleeping with Jouno is honestly pretty complex.
Considering Jouno's senses are heightened, I do believe he gets sensory overload when he sleeps with someone else or something he doesn't recognize.
Things like your hair touching his chest, your quiet snoring, the heat radiating off your body can make him feel overwhelmed.
Taking that into consideration, Jouno isn't much of a cuddly person.
He doesn't want to make it seem as if he doesn't love you or like having you around.
Hence why rather than a full cuddle, he just places his arm or leg on or around you.
Its like a way to reassure you he's here and wants to be near you while not being overwhelmed by the feeling yk?
He is honestly a pretty peaceful sleeper, although sadly- he is a very light sleeper.
Meaning any sound, or movement makes him either wake up or alert. (Your light snoring kept him up the first time y'all slept together, but now its like a white noise, weirdly comforting to him now).
Good luck trying to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night.
"Where are you going?"
"Uh- The bathroom?"
"Hm...alright, try not to pee so loud--It keeps me up."
"HOW CAN I CONTROL THAT?!"
Dazai
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Sleeping with Dazai is comfortable.
Despite what people may think of Dazai, he isn't overly clingy.
Sure, there are nights when he just wants to be smothered in love and affection but it's usually once every blue moon.
He respects the fact you both need space and hates the feeling of being overwhelmed in a situation that is supposed to be comfy and delicate.
Between you two, its much less cuddling and more of just holding each other.
Lose hands rest on your body as quiet snores fill the room, you both lay in bed enjoying each others presence. (Nothing too tight or restricting).
Dazai tends to always be the one holding rather than being held.
He likes being able to let go or scoot away if the heat gets too overwhelming or adjust if he feels uncomfortable in his current sleeping position.
Dazai is a pretty heavy sleeper, you could really sneak out of bed at night and he would just continue snoring.
In addition, he tends to move around quite a bit; rolling over, scooting away, shifting around- etc.
"Sorry, its getting a bit hot let me just...there we go."
"Dazai- this is the fourth time you've moved."
"OKAY! I promise this is the last time."
"..."
"I have to pee-."
Fyodor
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Sleeping with Fyodor was honestly a whole process.
Firstly, you had to practically beg and attempt to convince him to even consider sleeping in the same bed with you at least for one night. (He's such a bitch. I love him.)
Listen- He may love you, but it will take a while to actually get him to be vulnerable around you, especially being unconscious around you.
Once you get past the 4 month long process, we get to the actual good stuff.
The first night you two slept together, Fyodor stayed on his side of the bed, not really moving nor cuddling you--just kinda there. (It was really awkward)
But over time--after realizing that you really mean no harm and just want to sleep next to him--he will actually start to relax and allow himself to be vulnerable.
Fyodor is a very light sleeper as well as a quiet sleeper, rarely ever shifts around.
Once he chooses a sleeping position for the night, he sticks to it.
Fyodor is an occasional cuddler, to be more precise, he only cuddles when he needs to warm up.
Warmth is a big thing for Fyodor, considering he is Anemic, cuddles and warm covers help him alleviate and rest better.
Your warmth helps keep his cold body heated which he appreciates greatly and sees as an advantage.
Although, if the heat from your body and the covers becomes too much, he will quickly move away from you and sleep on his side of the bed.
The next morning, make sure he gets up SLOWLY! or he will fall over and crack his neck.
"So, how did you sleep last night?"
"It was...quite pleasant, although your warmth mixed with the covers warmth got me a bit overheated."
"Is that why you nearly kicked me out of bed?-"
✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮
These Head-cannons are so cute, I love being able to write things like these!! Honestly, I was searching up cuddling positions just for the funnies :) I asked my friend for help since I had huge writers block- (ILY) Anyways, Love ya! <3
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delugguk · 1 year
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how bad?
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pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: smut, fluff
word count: 763
summary: jungkook is leaving for qatar but he wanted something before he leaves.
a/n: I think y'all know already.. also, hiiiiiiiii this is my pre-comeback? (It isn't the official) but I've been wanting to upload something while I'm fixing some stuff. I MISS YOU. like you don't have idea and I miss being here and I hate saying things and then disappearing but ughghgh I promise I'll fix that bc I want it too. - but anyways, I don't want to make this longer and this is something I quickly wrote so if there's any typos (sorryyy) bc this is also unedited. with nothing more to say, ENJOY! and I hope you like it <3.
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"gonna miss me?"
"fuck. m'gonna miss you."
"how bad?"
Jungkook was going to Qatar. Job stuff. legendary things are coming for him and you couldn't be more proud but right now.. he was fucking you goodbye. - he wasn't leaving for months but his schedule has been low-key tight, he's been rehearsing so much, perfectioning his acting, singing and presence so much. he's been working really hard.
it's not that you two don't have time because you literally fucked 4 days ago, but jungkook said he wasn't leaving for many days without having to feel you one more time. something about him feeling your touch fresh into his skin and memory while he's away. facetiming exist, but you both know is not the same.
so that's why he's now man-handling your hips on his dick while he teases you with questions even though he sounds very out of breath but god, isn't him so stupidly hot right now.
..and always.
"mmhg so badly." you sound out of breath too.
his dick is so thick, so rich. there's a small but very notorious transparent fluid decorating his dick of proof of just how good he's making you feel and by the way his eyes gazes at you right now.. even his slight rosy cheeks..
sigh. was he really a sight.
"wish you could come with me." he deeply moans against your neck very close to your ear when you rest your head on his left shoulder. hips moving on its own but he squeezes your ass to stop. "mmhg come here baby."
and he man-handles you once again. ass up, back slightly arched when he places you back to the sofa and his dick enters you again.
"mhg" moaning, you lean your head down when he closes both your legs to feel more pleasure and he's fucking you so slow now, all you can hear is him, breathing - along side the sound of liquids moving on all places.
"god. gonna miss this pussy." whispering a little in between teeth. "can't believe this is all because of me." he hardly bites his lips.
for some reason.. hearing him say that, made you more turned on. he noticed though - you squeezed your walls a little.
it made him smirk.
one hand caresses your ass-cheek when he slaps it and you don't know how to stop getting wet for this.
"fucking greedy for me, hm?"
you start pushing your hips back, currently biting your lips. he always gives it to you good. "always".
"Is that so?"
"eungg"
and for a moment he just places both his hands behind his waist to watch your ass move back at him, vagina swallowing whole. "so fucking hot." and he just smiles looking at it as if he was proud of you for taking him so well.
"my pretty girl." softly smiling, you don't know but there's a tiny but notable cockiness in him. - he grabs your waist. "isn't it time for me to fuck you right?"
with that being said, he goes for your previous position. on top of him, he stabilizes your hips just so you can't move when he thrust rapidly into you.
"fuck!" pushing your body at his side, your boobs are bouncing so much as you try to keep your body still with your hands resting beside his face. holding the sofa instead.
"yeah baby. so good, hm?" he's gone.
and so it happens for the rest of the night. It's wild.
but so good.
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"have a nice flight babe, I'll be watching you from afar like always."
"but that's only when I'm away though." he hugs you. "you know I rather keeping you close." kissing your cheek at the front door of his/your apartment.
smiling, "you know me too." kissing his lips. "you looks very pretty today."
"so are you," he spins you around like a princess. "look at you!"
lightly punching his shoulder, "stop," you giggle in between. "now.. come on. you'll be late."
"won't you come with me?"
you stare confusely at him.
he corrects himself. "I mean, on the car.." he rambles, "my departure. me, leaving. me-"
"yeah, yeah, I understand." you laugh, making him too. "If you're good with that-"
"you know I am." he 'obviously' says.
You smile. "let's go then. It'll be one more time kiss."
"one of the many though. It could lead to more but, you know." he jokes.
"yeah, whatever" you playfully roll your eyes when you finally step outside.
he extends his hand for your to grab when he follows. finally closing the door, "let's go."
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aridiary · 4 months
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hoon eating you out bc he would give up heaven if he had to just to get another taste 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊
omg anon... i love this 😍😍😍
pairing : bf!hoon x f!reader
warning : smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), eating cum
Just imagine, arriving with your boyfriend and wanting to talk to him because lately he has been very distant with you and that was because of his work but you were not aware of that. Your words surprised him a lot and he didn't know what to say but he promised to make it up to you.
THEN he couldn't think of anything better than to take off the tight little shorts you were wearing and lay down on your bed cuz what better way to let your girl know that you still love her than to fuck her with your tongue? so he instruct you to sit on his face. "don't be afraid to suffocate me, baby, just do it..." and he would begin to tease you through your panties that were already damp, he would hold your thighs tightly and pass his warm tongue over your clothed pussy while his pointed nose would rub against your clit, driving you extremely crazy.
there is no doubt that he is SO pussy drunk. so, even if he tried to make you eager to BEG to have direct contact with his tongue, he would be the first to tear your panties and eat you out desperately, because it had been a long time since the last time you two had fuck and he's tooooooooo desperate for you.
He loves to run his tongue through your folds and kiss your clit before starting to tease your entrance, and while you are so lost in the pleasure that your boyfriend gives you, he would insert a finger into your pussy that its so tight —cuz he was to tired with job to keep you stretched for his size :(— making you moan loudly.
He knows how to drive his girl crazy, so he would quickly move his tongue between your folds and massage your sweet spot with his finger until he makes you cum on his face. When you turn away from him and see how his face is splattered with your juices. "now do you have any doubt if I really love you, baby? Or should I do it again?" You shake your head and he smiles noticing your blush, he lick his lips to taste you once more, He leans towards you and whispers. "yk i would give up heaven if I had to... just to get another taste of your-" "c'mon, shut up... You still owe me many sessions..."
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