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hunnylagoon · 6 months

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The Girl That Time Forgot

Ellie Williams x Reader

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

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

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

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

AID PALESTINE!

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rome - July- 116 AD

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

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

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

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

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

All you know to do is survive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Norwich, England- November- 1327

I can't take my eyes of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Look on the bright side-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salem, America- April- 1692

Immortal she, return to me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boston, America- March- 1770

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You've never stopped it?"

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

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

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

"I want to know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nebraska, America - June - 1883

I'll be seeing you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks, I was worried."

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

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

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

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

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

"Can't say."

"How come?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The others leaned in, eager for the punchline.

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

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

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

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

The rest leaned in, hanging on every word.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How's that?"

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

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

"Sounds about right."

Cape Cod, America - May - 1937

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"With your marriage."

"Okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ellie," She says shaking it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're so odd."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We can find a doctor to exempt you-

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

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

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

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

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

July 12, 1943

My Dearest Love,

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

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

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

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

With all my love,

Jesse

December 18, 1943

My Dearest Love,

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

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

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

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

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

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

With all my love,

Jesse

March 19, 1944

My Dearest Love,

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

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

Everything here is frightening (redacted)

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

With all my love,

Jesse

August 8, 1944

My Dearest Love,

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

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

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

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

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

With all my love,

Jesse

May 7, 1945

My Dearest Love,

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

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

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

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

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

With all my love,

Jesse

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Accept our sympathies

Funeral arrangements

The return of personal effects

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

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

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

"What-

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

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

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

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

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

Bethel, America- August - 1969

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should fix it."

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

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

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

"I know."

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

"I know."

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

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

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

Greenport Village, America - April - 2011

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Define happy.

Smiling?

Joking?

Laughing?

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

That last one sounds right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods, gaze softening "Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

I prayed for your breath right here in the shallows.

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.

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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getosbigballsack · 7 months

Text

#: Reader-Chan begging for Yakuza Gojo’s cock.

This drabble took place before the initial proposal drabble that was posted on October 21, 2023.

So desperate to feel his cock inside your cunt, you had your legs spread over his lap inside the back of his chauffeur. That dress he bought you rolled up and around your waist, white pretty panties pulled to the side exposing your glistening cunt to him.

He smiled and licked his lips, his thumb tracing the outline of your pussy before pushing his thumb inside your warm cunt. "You want my cock pretty baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, give it to me, please! I need you to give it to me, please," you begged.

"No!"

"Why?"

"I told you before, haven't I? I'll touch, I'll finger you, I'll even eat your pussy and let you play with my cock, but I won't fuck you until you agree to become my wife."

You cried so much that night, having to just settle with just his fingers inside your cunt, ruining you over and over until you had nothing left to give. And oh boy, did he take much pleasure in watching you cry and beg for his cock like the desperately cute and chubby little slut you are. God, Yakuza Gojo just can't wait to ruin you even more when you finally agree to take his hand in marriage.

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru

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sweetheart-satoru · 1 year

Text

his eyes, breathtaking

you tried to ignore him and your feelings, but they were stubborn.

author's note: me cuz i promised part two in october and now it's here 🙈🙈 don't hate me at least it's here 💋 i love you silly billies 🫶🏽

part one here !!

"you two in a fight or somethin'?" shoko says, leaning back in her chair. satoru places his cheek in his palm, "dunno, she's definitely mad at me, though." suguru tilts his head, "how come?"

"i dont know, can you ask her about it?" shoko shrugs, "i'll ask her at break." satoru nods, "thanks." you and satoru sit behind shoko and suguru. two seats in each spot.

when you walk into class you just stare out the window until shoko makes small talk with you, hoping the awkwardness would pass. “y/n, your bracelet is pretty.”

“thank you!” you grin at her, mood changing instantly. “yeahh,” satoru agrees, and he frowns as he watches your grin turn neutral, “i like it too, by the way.” he coughs. “mhm.. thanks, gojo.” you went back to the last name basis, and his heart drops.

shoko gives him a look, pointing at his phone, telling him to text her. and he does, along does suguru.

shoko: shes def mad

satoru: thanks a lot, i didn’t notice 😐!!

suguru: why is she mad tho?? what did you do??

satoru: why are you guys blaming me?! i don’t know either.

you cough, “hey- uh, shoko.. i’m gonna go to the washroom, ‘kay? if the bell rings before im back i’ll meet you by the gates.” you tell her before walking out. “mhm, okay!” she calls out. and when you shut the door she immediately turns to satoru and suguru.

“suguru, did you hear that? earlier, she called satoru by his last name. something is totally wrong.” and suguru nods, agreeing. “well, satoru. you should go follow her. this is your chance. the bell will ring soon so it doesn’t matter how much time you take, go!”

satoru nods, “mhm, okay!” and then he rushes out of class, going to see if he can finally talk to you.

you splash cold water on your face. mumbling to yourself, "get your shit together, y/n." you weren't going to lie, on a hot day like this, the cold water felt nice. patting your cheeks, you stare into the mirror, feeling a little bit less disgusted with yourself.

"oh, hey! i don't look too ugly today!" you give yourself a half grin, taking out a tube of lipgloss and lip tint from your pocket. "i'll just fix this up.." you say to yourself quietly.

when you're done you fix your hair, "not too bad, y/n." you smile to yourself, quietly feeling good. you were right to tell shoko to leave class and not wait, you were taking too much time and the bell did ring.

you check your phone and see that she texted you.

shoko: me and suguru are headed to the convenience store, satoru also went to the washroom so you two can meet up with us together

you visibly frown, oh shit. okay, y/n. just play it cool. if you hurry up maybe you can rush to them and you won't need to see him. yeah, if you hurry up you can make it without it. or you can wait it out and hope he leaves without you.

feeling your stomach growl, you screw idea #2 and just speed walk out of the washroom, making a quick turn before in the corner of your eye you see satoru leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. he was looking down at his phone, but now that your in his eye line, he raises his brows.

"wow, you sure take your time. im telling shoko she can't blame me for being late as this time it was your fault." he walks up to you and boops your nose.

you push his hand away, scrunching your nose. "mhm," you nod, cursing yourself for being too late, "lets uh, just go." he shakes his head, "nope."

narrowing your eyes, "huh? nope?" he grabs your wrist, "yeah, nope." he repeats, bringing you closer to him, and he frowns when you pull back. "lets talk."

"talk? talk about what? can we just go? im hungry." you complain, trying to pull your arm out. before (pt 1), when he grabbed your wrist he only held it lightly, now he was gripping it like if he let go, you would disappear.

"you're," you grunt, "hurting me." quietly, he mumbles a quick apology, but never fully lets go, just loosening his hold. "are you mad at me? and be serious, i don't want any half assed answer. tell me what you're feeling." he frowns.

"im.. im not mad at you." you look down to your shoes, and it's true. you weren't mad at him. you were mad at how he made you feel. you hate having feelings, especially with someone you're close with. it always comes back to bite you back in the ass. "then what is it?"

you stay silent. "y/n i know it has to be something to do with me, every time you speak to someone else you're back to being yourself, but when it's me it's like you hate me." your eyes widen, "i don't hate you." you blurt, and he gives you a sad smile. "then what is it? did i make you sad?"

"yes, but no, but like yes maybe kinda no. yes as in yes it has something to do with you, but no nothing you did intentionally." he raises his brow at that, "then what did i 'yes but no like yes maybe kinda no' do to you to make you stop talking to me for seven days?" you watch the hurt and sadness swirl in his eyes, his beautiful, breathtaking eyes.

"it's.. complicated! i don't know how to explain, it's just complicated!" you crouch down, into a frog like position. and he mimics your frog pose, bringing his face closer to yours, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"it's just, all in my head! i don't.. know.." you mutter, trailing off. "what're you thinking in here," he mumbles, "what are you thinking in your pretty little head." he taps two fingers on your forehead, and all you can think about his making out with him until your lips are too kiss-swollen to be touched.

"..stuff." you whisper, burying your face inside your hands, trying to hide your face that's on the verge of exploding with embarrassment. "oh, i get it." his lips curve into a smirk. all sadness gone.

he chuckles, and his chuckles turn into loud laughter. and his loud laughing turns into full on cackling until he really, truly cannot breathe.

"what are you laughing at..." you feel your heart pounding. it feels like its about to burst and fall right in between you two. he's still laughing, trying to cover his mouth to try and stop it. he's laughing so hard you see tears fall out of his eyes. "i can't fucking breathe!" he gasps for air, still laughing.

"oh my god, you're in love with me!" your heart drops to your stomach, and he's still laughing. his eyes are squeezed shut, he's gripping onto his pants like his life depends on it because he seriously cannot breathe.

all this time, for seven days you've ignored talking to him and texting him back, not because you were mad at him but because you had fucking feelings for him! oh god, he should've put the pieces together!

every time you would smile to yourself if your fingers brushed together, how you would look sad when someone who go up to him and confess, how you would smile down at him with a certain time of warmth when he would tie your shoelaces for you, how you would hug him longer than nessasary when he would pay for you food

"god! it's impossible to talk to you!" you hiss, getting up to leave to god knows where. just as you're about to turn your heel, going to walk away, he grabs your wrist.

"satoru, let go, just leave me alo-" he cuts you off by placing his hands on your cheeks, and then you feel his soft lips on yours. your eyes widen as you feel him bringing you closer to him. squeezing your eyes shut, you try and keep up with his skilled lips. he just took your first kiss and you don't know what you're doing!

he breaks the kiss off and grins down at you. "was that your first kiss?" you just turn your head away, trying to hide your flustered face. "you suck." he snickers, teasing you.

you frown, "shut up! you just caught me off guard, that's all! and if you must know i have kissed many people!" you were straight up lying through your teeth and he smirks, knowing.

"prove it. kiss me again. show me you're experienced." he leans against the wall, eyeing you like a hawk. "no. let's go to shoko and suguru, im hungry!" it wasn't like you were lying now, it's true. you were starved. "no?" he questions, cocking his head to the side. "no." you repeat, "now lets go." you try and drag his arm. he just chuckles and follows you.

he intertwines your fingers together, holding you close to him. he watches you from the corner of his eyes as you randomly look at both of your hands, and then turn away smiling. he also turns his head away to smile. a faint blush rested on his cheeks before he stops you both.

he lets go of your hand before using it to turn your head to him to place a small kiss on your lips again. when you pull back, "you still suck." he leans in to kiss you again but you just shove him. "ugh shut up!"

you speed walk ahead of him, "you're the one who sucks!" he just laughs, "don't leave me behinddddd!!" to which the response he got back was getting flipped off.

as you keep walking ahead, even though he could easily catch up with his lanky long legs, he just runs and jumps on your back, yelling out, "piggy back ride!"

you stumble forwards, holding onto his legs making sure he doesn't fall over, "you idiot, we could've fallen!" you laugh, and he just wraps his arms around you, careful as not to choke you, and kisses your head, "but you love me so even if we fell you'll forgive me."

"yeah, yeah, whatever." you grumble, adjusting him on your back. and he grins, snuggling his face into your neck, loving the sweet smell of (whatever you smell like that's good) and shutting his eyes.

"i love you too." and he can basically feel the grin stretched onto your face.

i accidentally deleted most of the work so now it's not even good :( it literally looks like i shat in my hand, gave it to you and called it writing.. the first version was so much better 🤐

anyways tags for the lovelies that have been waiting months of this <3 @ari-hatake15 @chuuberrysworld @solialuna @kazuahhh @voidsatoru <3 @loquia @mykyoon @i-be-teff @arminsgfloll @4evahevah @the-devilskid @ys2800 sorry if i didn't tag you some of them aren't showing up :(

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7ndipity · 1 year

Text

Soft

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Your first morning with Yoongi reminds you of just how soft he is.

Warnings: Suggestive, not proofread

A/N: This is nothing but tooth-rotting fluff, I don't even know where I was going with this, but it is what it is. And yes, I'm daydreaming about foggy October mornings in the middle of July, it's my escapism, leave me alone.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was one of those quiet, early mornings when everything was still except for the occasional faded leaf drifting lazily past as you stared out the kitchen window, waiting for coffee to brew.

You didn't realize you weren't alone anymore until you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your middle, making you smile instantly as Yoongi pressed his face into your shoulder.

"Morning." He said, voice gravely from sleep.

"Morning, you're warm." You hummed contentedly.

"You're cold." He said as his hands found yours, fingers already chilled by the morning air.

"Come back to bed." He breathed against your neck, pressing a sleepy kiss to your skin as he spoke, lips lingering longer than usual.

"I didn't realize you were so needy in the mornings." You mused.

"Is that a problem?" He asked.

"Nope, I could stay right here quite happily all day." You said, leaning back against him to further your point, making him chuckle.

"That can be arranged." He hummed, digging his fingers into your sides a bit to make you squirm.

It was moments like this with him when you couldn't fathom how some people had the view that Yoongi was a cold or indifferent person, when in reality, nothing could be further from the truth.

When you had first started dating, there had definitely been a level of shyness that almost bordered on standoffish, but you had quickly come to understand that it came from a place caution due to his past, but you'd been more than willing to work through it and wait patiently as he let down those walls one by one.

You remember the first time he invited you to his studio, watching him work, mouth drawn into a pout of concentration as his finger flew across the keyboard.

"You're staring." He said, shooting a side-long glance at you.

"So?" You asked. "You're pretty."

He didn't respond, choosing to keep his eyes on the screen in front of him, but you didn't miss the faint dusting of pink that crept across his face, making you grow more confident, leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek, making him splutter out a surprised laugh.

"What was that for?" He asked, flustered.

"Nothing, I just wanted to." You shrugged, turning back to your phone leaving him staring at you, bemused.

Little moments had built up over the course of a few weeks, fleeting touches and pecks here and there, with his moves always seeming to be slightly wary, as if you'd run away if he wasn't careful, though you had absolutely no intentions of going anywhere.

The breaking point had finally come last night as you'd sat together as he voiced his frustrations about a current project he was struggling to finish.

"What do you usually do when you can't write?" He'd asked you.

"Drink." You chuckled, gesturing to the glass in your hand, making him snort. "Think about you."

"Noo!" His face scrunched up, making you laugh.

When you quieted though, you noticed his eyes lingering on you. You don't know what it was exactly that you said or did, but as he stared at you, you could see the final wall crumble as he suddenly leaned in to claim your lips.

At first, it was so soft and sweet, you could've cried from the way he held you, like you were made of glass, but when you deepened it, winding a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, you'd felt a tiny shiver ripple through him as he sucked in a shaky breath before caving entirely, pushing you back against the cushions as he chased after your lips.

"What?" You asked, looking up at him confusion.

Now, as you finally convinced him to venture out for a very late breakfast, you could see the subtle differences in his movements with and around you.

As the two of you walked along, he suddenly grabbed for your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

He just shook his head before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was still more than enough to leave you dazed by the time he pulled away.

"What was that for?" You asked.

He shrugged. "Just wanted to." He said with a smirk before continuing down the road, still holding your hand, you biting back a grin as you trailed after him.

#yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi oneshot #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts one shot #bts fluff #bts drabble #7ndipity

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worldsover · 10 months

Note

Will we ever get a sequel for Heejin's birthday fic? Just asking btw

Sorry. I am allergic to completing tasks to 100%. For example, as I mentioned in its author notes, there was never even meant to be a sequel since this was supposed to be one story, but instead I posted the incomplete version because the alternative was no story for her birthday. That being said, I do at least have a bit more written, so the same thing applies here: it's unfinished, but at least it's something?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Heejin Birthday Fic cont.

~2.5k words, incomplete draft of the continuation to Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin

This wasn't fun. Well, it's a little fun. All the games the two of you play.

The best/worst part are all the videos she sends. She starts with the typical: eating an ice cream cone, having cream drip on her fingers; covering herself with oil and rubbing it over her entire body; holding a vibrator to her clit, waiting for your text about what position you want her in; showing her sopping pussy from various angles, and you can tell exactly which angle she sent you and why.

And then her videos get dirtier. There's Heejin on a vertical video, sitting on her bed, dildo deep inside her pussy, just talking. She talks about how she imagines your cock sliding in and out of her pussy, ramming her g-spot and fucking her senseless, while your fingers rub her clit and your mouth suck her tits. You would fill her up with your cum, dripping out of her pussy, down her legs. Then she would get the taste of your cock as she cleans it with her mouth, and how the cum mixing with her juices would taste even better as she slurps it all up. Heejin has a gift for describing things with vivid detail. You never realized just how eloquent her tongue could be. You can't wait until it's on yours again.

There are the times you meet and end up making out and nearly fucking, but you manage to stop. You keep each other on the brink. Sometimes you want to rip each other's clothes off and ravage the other right then and there, and your hearts would race at the thought of all the consequences and dangers involved with doing it outside. But you had to be patient; you were the one who suggested waiting, after all.

But the weeks pass, and you grow restless. You can't wait to claim Heejin as yours, in the most intimate way possible.

And finally, October 19 arrives.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The restaurant is a small, cozy establishment, with warm lighting and ambient music. You and Heejin are dressed in semi-formal attire, and you admire how beautiful she looks in her black dress, with a slit up the thigh that shows off her perfect legs. You're both a little giddy with anticipation. You feel like it's Christmas, ready to open the ultimate present, even if she's the birthday girl here.

As you sit at the table, Heejin's phone lights up with birthday messages from her friends, and you can't help but wonder what they would think if they knew about you two.

"Wow, you're popular."

She giggles. "I know, it's silly. But, it's kinda sweet."

You take a sip of water. "You know, Heejin, it's been fun, these last couple of weeks, edging. I've never gone this long."

Heejin scoffs. "You're one to talk. It's been hell for me."

"I believe you."

You start to eat your food. The flavors are rich and savory, and the portions are generous. The two of you chat about the usual stuff, like work and your family and the newest set of anime coming out, but no matter how you try, you can't resist being glued to her every touch. Her finger absentmindedly twirls around a strand of hair. Her thighs shift in her seat. A napkin wipes the side of her mouth. The candlelight, and the warmth of the establishment makes her glow, and you're hopelessly under her spell.

Of course, her heel brushing against your inner thigh doesn't help.

"You seem tense," she says.

"Great observation."

"You know, for some reason, I don't feel that full, even after all I ate."

"You wanna go to another restaurant or something?"

Heejin rolls her eyes. "That's not what I'm hungry for."

Your mouth rounds to a circle.

She rubs her heel on your pants. "What?"

You throw the napkin on the table and stand up. "Excuse me, I have to use the restroom."

Heejin bites her lip as you walk away. You enter the bathroom. It's its own individual room, fancy and well-kept. You walk up to the sink and splash cold water on your face, sighing.

You use the toilet. Then, you use your phone to find the nearest hotel and its nearest vacancy. Can't even wait to bring her home. You text her your plan for the night.

Seems even that is too much waiting. A knock. She texts you back.

> open the door.

You gulp. You do, and Heejin steps in, her breathing erratic, her smile mischievous. She pulls you by your tie for a kiss, shoving you against the door. Your tongue and hers are tangling, and you reach for her breast. Your knee is lifting her skirt, and she's grinding against it.

"Heejin," you say, "we gotta, we gotta go somewhere else."

"I can kneel here." And she does just that. "We can make this quick."

She unbuckles your pants and frees your cock, your limp-cock instantly hard in the warmth of her mouth, instantly in the back of her throat.

"Heejin, no, wait, we were saving..."

Pop. "Oh, what, like you don't wanna blow your load down my throat and cum all over my tits and face?"

She's pumping, her fingers slick and tight around your shaft, your cockhead rubbing against her face. She sucks on your balls.

"I bet you'd absolutely ruin this fucking dress with your load."

In the next five minutes, Heejin proceeds to slather your cock in her spit while sucking you down with best blowjob you've ever received. Her lips and tongue are tight, and the heat of her mouth and the vacuum of her suction feels so divine around your cock. And her moans, oh, fuck, how you missed her moans around your shaft. The vibrations tickle your skin and your nerves. You're thankful for the door and the weight of your body preventing the two of you from collapsing, because the pleasure is making your knees weak. And if that wasn't enough, Heejin is relentless in her dirty talk and her sucking.

"God, your cock is fucking amazing. I wanna drink your cum forever. I wish you could shoot your cum deep in my pussy, fill me up. I can't wait to get your cock in my cunt."

She bobs faster, deeper, sucking more intensely. You're about to burst. She knows. Heejin reaches between your legs and squeezes your balls.

Then, she pulls back. Pop. "So, where's the hotel?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You pay for your meals, and then you're on the way to the hotel. It's a short taxi ride away, and the two of you keep your hands to yourself.

Once you're in the elevator, you hold Heejin's waist, and she faces you, giggling.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," she says. "Just… happy."

You lean down to kiss her. "Have I told you enough that you're the prettiest girl on the planet?"

"A couple times." She kisses back. "I don't mind you telling me more."

You brush strands of hair away from her face. She puts her hands on your face. Your hand slides up her waist to cup her cheek. She runs her thumb across your bottom lip.

Ding. The elevator doors open, and you step into the hallway. Your room is a few steps down, and you unlock the door.

It's a basic suite, and you don't waste time, dropping your stuff, locking the door, and moving to the bed, pushing Heejin down and kneeling to her height.

She giggles. "Gotta catch up, huh?"

You slide her shoes off her feet, then your own. Then, you slip your hands under her dress and hook a finger on her panties, moving them down her legs. All the while, she takes off your suit jacket and undoes your belt. You move Heejin's panties completely off her ankles. They're soaked. She lies down on the bed.

Your cock is throbbing, but you can't stop staring at the view.

She blushes. "N-no, no more edging. Please. I need to cum, so, so fucking bad. I need you in me, right fucking now."

You swallow. "Don't worry. I'll be inside you soon enough. Just, lemme get a good look of your body first."

Heejin smiles. "My body, huh? What, what's so special about it?"

"Everything."

You're on top of Heejin now, caressing her face.

"Everything," you repeat. You lower your head. "Especially your eyes." You lower your head again. "And your lips." You kiss them. "And your neck." You kiss. She moans. You continue kissing downwards, licking along her collarbone, nibbling on the side of her throat, biting her shoulder. Then you lick the valley between her breasts, pull down the neckline of her dress, and lick circles on her nipples. You hike up the hem of dres to reach a hand to her pussy. "And, this." You rub her lips.

She moans. "What… about that?"

You crawl lower, your face between her legs. You spread her lips, already wet, and you stick your tongue inside her hole. "The prettiest pussy I've ever seen." You lick up her slit.

Heejin grabs your hair and pulls you. "I'm sorry, but I can't wait anymore. Fuck me."

You wipe your mouth. "Yeah, yeah, sorry."

"Just… put it in me already."

You get on your knees and rub your cockhead against Heejin's lips, smearing pre-cum. You rub it around her clit, and she shudders, whimpering.

Heejin pushes on your chest. "Wait, hold on, sit up. I wanna watch. Please. Your cock… entering me. I can't wait to see it."

You nod. Heejin sits up too. You grab Heejin's thighs and spread them. Your cockhead rubs against Heejin's entrance again.

"Holy shit, holy shit," she says.

You lick your lips. You push your cock into Heejin's hole, and your head is swimming in her heat, her wetness. Her pussy is already sucking you in, and Heejin is already moaning, and her whole body is already trembling.

"Shit, Heejin, you're already going to cum?"

She nods. "Yes! I'm sorry, it's just, you're finally, finally inside me. I've dreamed about this, so many times, and now it's happening."

"Me too. It's fine, it's fine." You pull back, and then you thrust again, a bit deeper, and Heejin shudders again. "Holy shit."

You pump slowly, Heejin moaning louder and louder, her pussy squeezing you tighter and tighter. Your grip on her thighs is tight, and you push her down, burying your cock deeper. Her back arches, and you start thrusting faster. You grunt. Heejin's pussy is milking your cock, sucking you deeper, and you're pounding her cunt, her moans and your grunts filling the room, until she lets out a scream, a high-pitched, satisfied noise, and her walls are convulsing. And just as you said, you empty your load deep inside her, rope after rope, a thick batch of semen pooling in her hole and leaking past your shaft.

"Holy… shit," she says. Heejin's trying to catch her breath. She looks up at you, a slight smirk on her face. "You're still hard, right?"

You look down. You're still hard.

Even though her legs writhe and her toes curl, she fucks herself into your shaft, covering it in more and more cream.

"Fucking, hell, Heejin, just like that?" You clench your jaw.

"Yeah. Yeah, we just started. I love watching you pump your cock in and out of my pussy, seeing it get all sloppy."

You chuckle. "Slut."

"For you." She wraps her legs around your waist, her arms around your back. "Wreck me."

You can do nothing but comply. Heejin's eyes roll back, her lips tremble, and her nails dig into your back, and you fuck her, you fuck Heejin, hard. Using your own creampie as lube, your cock plunges and slams inside Heejin's pussy, over and over. You pick her up from the bed and pound into her as you carry her around the room, making loud wet slaps fill the air. Then, you set her down on the desk, gripping her shoulders, and the room shakes with your thrusts.

Heejin screams and babbles. You're about to cum again already, and so is she. You love her expression, like she's completely drunk to your cock as she loses herself to the pleasure of it stuffing her, pushing your first creampie out just to fill her up again. You're sure she can feel your heartbeat from how far your cock is in her womb. You slow down, then you pull out. Heejin's pussy is drooling cum, and she lies flat on the desk. Your head is so light that you only just now realize you're still cumming, so you jack off onto her body, mainly covering her dress in cum, though some of it reaches her chin. Heejin promptly licks that clean.

"Why," she says. "Why'd you stop? You're, you're still hard. Please."

"Turn around. Get on your hands and knees."

She obeys. "Yes, sir," she says, and you like the way she says that.

You grab Heejin's waist, and then you slam into her pussy. Your pace is just as brutal as when you started the night. Turns out that edging for weeks, then cumming inside a woman's tight pussy, then pulling out and painting her in your cum is more than enough to keep your cock rock hard, and Heejin is more than eager to have your cock pounding her hole as many times as you want.

After the fourth round, your fifth climax, Heejin is a mess on the bed, and so is your cock. It's covered in her cum and your cum and some of her saliva, and her tongue is lazily circling your cockhead while she rests her head on your thighs.

"Do you, do you want to keep going?"

Heejin nods. "Why? Are you tired?"

"I mean, I'm pretty sure I have another few in me. But my abs are killing me."

"Oh yeah? You should try doing planks."

"The way you do them? Yeah, ri—" You're interrupted when Heejin climbs up your body and grabs your cock. You flinch. "No, wait, wait, wait. Wait, Heejin."

"Are you afraid?"

You gulp. "Very."

"I promise it won't hurt. It'll be fun."

When Heejin says it, you believe her. "Fine. Go for it."

Heejin grins. "Awesome." As she positions herself over your shaft, the creampie you filled her with starts to leak onto your stomach, and she holds your cock to point it up towards her hole. She lowers her pussy, and your cock enters her again. She rides you, holding your cock by the base so that the entire time, you feel the entirety of her tunnel envelop you, and your cum is squishing all over her insides.

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If I do get around to finishing the story, I will probably delete this and the initial version of Transcendence, post the full version instead. Big if.

#asks #anon #loona smut #kpop smut #reader insert #male reader #artms smut

413 notes · View notes

fandom · 1 year

Text

Y'all really know how to commit to a bit.

In an impressive performance of "yes, and," mole interest trended with art and fun facts about those adorable little creatures being shared left and right. Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake continues to deliver the fun and heartbreak we all expected to see. Speaking of fun and heartbreak, the trailer for the second season of Our Flag Means Death dropped and has everyone counting down the days until October 5. In gaming news, Nintendo announced the release date for the new Side Order DLC for Splatoon 3, and folks can't wait to jump into the new single-player campaign. Unity announced a new fee for game installs, causing a huge spike in concern from developers and players alike. Finally, a familiar face appeared in Ahsoka, and, well, folks are really happy about it. This is Tumblr's Week in Review.

Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Mole Interest

Our Flag Means Death

9-1-1

Baldur's Gate 3

Good Omens

Simon Petrikov | Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake

Star Wars

Ahsoka

Artists on Tumblr

The QSMP Minecraft Server

Crowley | Good Omens

Aziraphale | Good Omens

Unity

Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3

Helluva Boss

Splatoon

One Piece

Ineffable Husbands | Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens

Undertale

#week in review #09/18/2023 #our flag means death #ofmd

760 notes · View notes

bits-and-babs · 1 year

Text

✧ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ✧

with one week until october, i've decided it's time i return to writing. i've planned out a release schedule for a kinktober celebration, and hope that i'll be able to complete it this year ! please enjoy, i can't wait to release work for you all again ! ღ

from the 1st - 31st i will be posting one smut fic a day with different prompts featuring different characters. all fics relating to this event will be tagged kinktober 2023. this masterlist will be continually updated as i go.

minors dni: please note all writing in this event is not suitable for minors. if i find minors interacting with my work, you will be blocked.

content tags: please be mindful of the content tags on my fics. each fic will have it's own separate cw section, detailing any sensitive or triggering content. i give ample warning, so if you don't like do not read. all fics will be written as f!reader.

tagging: i will be tagging my usual taglist for the characters I write each day. if you wish to be tagged on each day of kinktober, please sign up via the taglist below.

navigation blog rules taglist

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ─

OCTOBER 001.

camgirl | simon 'ghost' riley x camgirl!reader summary: a new client sends a request for a solo-cam performance. his lack of detail and scarce details leave you unprepared. cw: f!reader, sexwork, dirty talk, breast-play, m & f masturbation, use of sex toy, use of honorific 'sir' but no real power dynamic.

OCTOBER 002.

touch starved | din djarin x reader summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit. cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.

OCTOBER 003.

phone sex | johnny mactavish x reader summary: on leave, johnny can't resist pestering you while you're at work. or perhaps he just can't resist you... cw: f!reader, sexting, dirty talk, voyeurism(?), begging, masturbation (m & f), orgasm denial, inferred voyeurism. this one made me blush.

OCTOBER 004.

aphrodisiac | grand admiral thrawn x reader summary: grand admiral thrawn has a unconventional way of convincing neighbouring planets to pledge allegiance to the empire. cw: aphrodisiacs/sex pollen vibes so dub-con, fingering, cum eating, political mind games.

OCTOBER 005.

clothes on | joel miller x reader summary: trapped inside a wardrobe whilst hiding from infected, joel ups the ante of survival. cw: f!reader, threat to life, mentions of gore, quiet or die kind of vibe, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cream pie, autassassinophilia – arousal in the fear of being killed.

OCTOBER 006.

nipple piercings | captain john price x reader summary: three months into your sas training course, chief directional instructor captain john price drills you on cold-water-shock survival. cw: f!reader, cold water shock, power imbalance (recruit x directing staff), secret relationship, breast/nipple stimulation, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cream pie.

OCTOBER 007.

incubus | maul x reader summary: a bizarre creature comes to visit your dreams, promising to satiate the desperate yearning of your body that it sensed across the plains of the force. cw: incubus! – somnophilia and dub-con by default, size kink, rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cream-pie, choking, breath play, use of pet name ‘dove’

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐎 —

OCTOBER 008.

roleplay | könig x reader summary: as with all of your bedroom antics with könig, you plant the seed. but when he finally succumbs to your devious plan, you struggle to withstand the heat. cw: roleplay hostage situation, faux attack, faux disregard for partners comfort (konig cares a lot though, i promise) oral sex (m receiving), rough oral sex, face slapping, rough deep throating, swallowing.

OCTOBER 009.

witch!reader | din djarin x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 010.

cheating | captain john price x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 011.

breeding kink | grand admiral thrawn x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 012.

caught sex | joel miller x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 013.

morning sex | john mactavish x reader summary: cw:

OCTOBER 014.

hate sex | oberyn martel x reader summary: cw:

𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 —

tbc...

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #spooktober #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #john soap mctavish #john soap mctavish x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #star wars #star wars smut #mwii smut #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou smut

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courtforshort15 · 2 years

Text

These Broken Things

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem Reader

Word Count: 6,200

Summary: Matt Murdock is exceptionally good at closing himself off and pushing people away. It's a bit of a breaking point for you, even while you pray it's not the end.

Trigger warning: talking about death and assault, angst with a hopeful ending.

Masterlist

"I told you to drop it."

"Drop it?" you exclaimed, following him into his apartment and down the long hallway, the lights of the bilboard lighting your ways, hues of blues and pinks playing across the suit jacket of the man in front of you. "You want me to drop it?"

"Yes, leave it alone. Nothing's wrong."

You threw your hands up in the air, exasperated beyond belief at this point, seconds away from pulling out your hair strand by strand. "That is biggest pile of dog shit I have ever heard come out of your mouth, Matthew."

He spun on his heels so fast that you nearly ran into him, only just managing to shift your weight to your back foot in order to stop your momentum from taking you forward. The frustration on his face and narrowed eyes caused your eyes to widen, taken aback by his anger.

"I'm fine. Stop asking me what's wrong." His voice was low, a damn near growl, his mouth twisted in an ugly frown that was so unlike him it was startling. Your mouth dropped, voice caught in your throat temporarily, as you stared at him. Satisfied at your silence, Matt spun back around, stomping into his bedroom.

You and Matt weren't unused to spats between you from time to time, but this was the first time he had ever had a look on his face that looked like that.

You steeled your spine, letting your anger rise up past your shock, as you followed after him, only just managing to avoid knocking your knee on his coffee table in your haste. Standing at the entrance to his bedroom, arms crossed over your chest, chin tilted up in defiance.

"No," you growled out, "you don't get to talk to me like that and then walk away." Matt ignored you, and you watched as he yanked his tie off before swiftly unbuckling his slacks.

His actions alone told you that he was getting ready to go out for the night, despite the fact that the city wasn't completely dark yet, people still out and about on that chilly October evening. You knew him well enough by now that when his blood was up, like it was now, he needed the city to provide him with criminals he could bloody his fists on.

Sometimes you weren't sure who need Daredevil more; the city, or Matthew Murdock.

"Matt." He continued to tear his clothes off until all that was left was his boxers and scarred skin. "Matthew."

He finally tilted his head in your direction, chest heaving rapdily. "What?"

You raised your eyebrows as you stared at him. "Seriously? You're just gonna go out and not even try to finish this conversation?"

Matt scoffed, blank eyes all but rolling. "We're not having a conversation. You asked me what was wrong, and I said I'm fine. Anything you've said after that is on you." He didn't wait for a reply before he walked around you and exited his the bedroom, heading towards the closet under the stairs where he stored his suit. You turned to watch him, but otherwise remained frozen to the spot, completely taken aback.

"When did you get so mean?"

Matt finally faltered.

He kept his back to you, but you watched him run a hand briefly through his hair, pale hand shaking slightly in the dim lighting of his living room. His shoulders rose as he took a deep breath, reaching out to open the closet with a loud sigh. Once it was open, he knelt down and hastily swept his suit up.

He still didn't say anything, and a lump caught in your throat, anger replaced with the spark and sudden growing fire of panic.

"You've become so distant, Matt," you started, hating how your voice shook as your hands fell to your sides and clenched into tight fists. "You don't call as much, you haven't touched me in weeks, and I can't even remember the last time we slept in the same bed. What is going on?"

"Everything's fine."

Your heart was racing now. "Don't...Don't give me that. Everything is clearly not fine."

Matt was nearly done putting on the suit, currently finishing up the last fastenings as you stared at him, begging him to tell you what was wrong. But Matt was a man who bottled things up so tightly that raging thoughts and feelings were sometimes too compressed to ever escape. He'd gotten better recently, the layers of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen slowly peeling back for you, but things didn't always work the way you wanted them to.

Tonight was a prime example.

"I don't know what you expect me to say, then," he muttered, the words loud enough to be heard in his quiet apartment.

You refused to let things go. "Maybe just some explanation for why things have changed? Did I do something?"

Matt gave a loud sigh, one you immediately flinched at, huddling in on yourself before the breath even completely left his body. It was a sigh of annoyance, a sigh of disinterest, a sigh of unadulterated irritation.

"I really need to leave," he said as he very easily ignored the question, sitting on the steps to his rooftop access to tie his black shoes. "I'll call you later."

"No."

"No?"

"No," you repeated, fingernails digging into your palm as you struggled to take a breath. "If you decide to walk out that door in the middle of this, don't bother calling me."

He paused, helmet in his hand, his face a twist of incredulity and aggravation as if he couldn't understand what you were saying. You held your ground, your feet planted from right outside his bedroom, doing your best to eye him down as you bit your lip in anxiety.

"Are you giving me an ultimatum?" he asked, voice betraying his disbelief.

"No," you denied immediately, then frowned. "Well...maybe? I don't know, Matt. I don't know what to do here."

"To be clear, you're asking me to choose between you and Hell's Kitchen," he said slowly, taking a small step towards you. "You're asking me to choose, when you've spent so much time promising you'd never do that."

"I'm not asking you to choose!" you exclaimed loudly, your panic manifesting in frantic words. He looked agitated again, and it took all you had to push the tears back from where this conversation had led to. "I'm asking you to stay here and talk to me before going out."

He shook his head, scoffing, while finally slipping his helmet on and turning his back to you, ready to head up the stairs. "I don't have time for this."

"God, I feel like I don't even know you anymore." A stray, pathetic tear finally rolled down your face, and you swore you saw him stiffen, shoulders stilling and hand clenching on the banister. You knew he could taste the salt on the air, knew that he was aware tears were sliding out.

A few weeks ago you would have expected him to immediately apologize for causing you to cry, any argument dead on his lips as he held you to him, apologies and words of comfort whispered into your ears. With the feeling of utter heartbreak, your head lowered when you realized you didn't know what to expect from him anymore.

With a profound sense of sadness, and before he could respond or walk away in his apparent urgency to go out to prowl the city, you left instead, crossing through his living room and walking down the long hallway. You didn't hesitate when you pulled his front door behind you, too drained to stay behind for a second longer.

He didn't follow.

--------

It had been eleven days.

Eleven days and nothing.

No phone calls. No daytime drop bys at your office with a cup of coffee or an offer for lunch. No midnight hellos through windows, black clothing lit up by the moon that hung in the sky.

But you'd given him what he had perceived as an ultimatum, hadn't you? And you hadn't been the winner.

You'd always known Hell's Kitchen came first. It was something you both loved and hated about him. Long nights spent wondering if he was safe, hours spent stitching him up and putting him back together, countless tears shed when thinking about all the pain he put himself through for a city that would never truly appreciate the blood and sweat he gave for it. And all of it was worth it, if it meant his face was the first thing you saw in the morning, the first voice that said your name.

But this fight hadn't even been about Hell's Kitchen, had it? It had been about something else. It had been about him, and whatever was bothering him that he was unwilling to share with you. It had been about him not letting you in, not fully. After a year together, you thought he would have seen through the anger and panic to the real cause of your distress, rather than deflecting and getting meaner and meaner with each word carelessly thrown from his mouth.

Your fearless, reckless vigilante, whom you loved so much, had shut you out so suddenly and thoroughly without a single word as to why.

It killed you to think about it, but some part of you quickly became convinced that it had been done to distance himself from you in preparation of a break up. It was easy to see things that way when you considered his lack of affection, attention, and the way he'd let you slip out of his apartment without a word, tears slipping down cheeks heated with the exertion of begging him to fight for you.

That's what the voice in your head was telling you, at least. And with every day that went by, the voice got a little louder until it was screaming how much of an idiot you were for holding onto him. Perhaps this was the break up, now that you thought about it. Perhaps you walking out and him not following was the only ending necessary, though it seemed so anticlimactic.

His silence was so very telling. Maybe he thought no words were needed at this point.

And so you spent your waking hours doing anything and everything you could to keep your mind off of him, desperate to spend time outside of the heartbreak coursing through your veins like wild fire. You spent your days with your nose buried in your work. Deadlines you had pushed off were suddenly met way ahead of schedule. You spent your evenings catching up on your recorded TV shows, red wine in one hand, take out in the other, tissues on your coffee table in case of any unwanted appearances of tears. Your apartment was rearranged and scrubbed clean from head to toe.

Twice.

On day nine, you had placed his things in a duffle bag on the floor next to the door, ready to hand it off when, or if, he ever came by for it.

You had ignored the tears that swam in your vision as you did it.

The evening of day eleven found you in bed early, too exhausted and emotionally drained to even try to make it through your favorite ABC drama, curled up in a ball in an effort to keep as much of the world away from your, decreasing the amount of vulnerable skin that was available for bruises. Your arms were wrapped around the pillow you held to your chest, ignoring the thought that the pillow had at one point smelled like him.

You were very nearly asleep when a quiet tap sounded at your kitchen window, startling you for a quick second. You didn't have to think about what it could possibly be, the sound one that you've heard hundreds of times, though it had been absent lately.

Your heart rate spiked, as it always did when he was near, but this time it was in anxiety. It was almost embarrassing that your body reacted to him so obviously. He knew you in the most intimate way possible, each flush of your cheeks or flash of arousal lighting up a world only he would ever be able to navigate.

But tonight, you weren't really interested in him having any sort of access to you and what you were feeling.

"Go away, Matt."

Your voice was quiet, even to your own ears, but you knew he would be able to hear it all the same.

The tap sounded again, this time followed by the creak of a window that was trying to be opened from the outside. He was used to letting himself inside your apartment at night, even if only to crawl into bed next to you to drift off to sleep by your side, arms wrapped around you so tightly that you didn’t know where he ended and you began.

You could practically feel his confusion as he realized that for the first time since you had met him, the window was locked.

The tapping came again, this time louder and more insistent, and before you even knew what you were doing, you were heaving yourself out of bed and making your way into the kitchen.

You threw the window open halfway, noting vaguely that he was perched on your fire escape in black clothing, not unlike what he used to wear before the red suit, his head covered by the hood of his sweatshirt but face open and pale in the dark.

"Are you bleeding?"

Matt frowned, clearly thrown off by the question. "No."

"Are you hurt?"

"No. Why--"

"Then kindly get off of my fire escape." Your hands rose to bring the window back down, and in shock, Matt almost missed sliding his hands under to keep it open.

"Wait!" You stopped pushing the window down, not because you wanted to hear what he had to say, but because you knew your strength was no match for his. "Wait, please. Let me come in."

"No, thanks."

"We should talk, sweetheart."

Though you had spent the last few days preparing yourself for something like this, it didn't stop the cold feeling of dread that poured itself down your spine.

"There's no need, Matt," you said, making every effort to keep your voice as even as possible. "I already know what you came here to say."

"I don't think you do. Please, let me in."

"Look," you started tiredly, tugging on the braid that was resting over your shoulder. "We don't need to do this. Things aren't working out, I get it."

"That's not--"

"You've made it pretty clear that this isn't what you want anymore, and that's fine," you continued, looking away from dark eyes that were all but pleading with you, trying to avoid falling into the man who had seemingly let you walk out of his life. "It would have been nice for you to break it to me gently rather than pushing me away as violently as you did, but it doesn't matter at this point."

"Sweetheart--"

"Don't call me that."

"I didn't come here to--"

"You didn't need to come here at all. I got the point, really."

"Will you just let me talk?" he demanded loudly, yanking the window all the way up, apparently done with being outside while you were inside.

You took an automatic step backwards, leaving more than enough room between the two of you as he let himself in. As always, his presence was larger than life, and in your tiny kitchen, you found it overwhelming in a way it hadn't been before. You found yourself stepping behind the kitchen table, effectively placing it between the two of you.

You didn't miss the way Matt's body lurched in apparent grief at the motion.

An awkward silence settled between the two of you, and it seemed that Matt was struggling with what to say, despite the way he had demanded to let him speak.

"What do you want, Matt?" you asked quietly, eyes finally making their way back to his face. "I haven't been sleeping well and I'm exhausted. I'd like to go to bed."

"I needed to talk to you," he repeated, his blank, beautiful eyes aimed at your chin.

"I already said it wasn't necessary," you shrugged. The impassive tone you took was empty, but that didnt mean it was convincing. "Things got ugly, but it's over now."

"Things aren't over now," he said adamantly, moving around the table, hands lifting to reach for you. "Please, just hear me out."

"I don't...I don't really know if I want to," you said honestly, quietly. Matt flinched, and you knew it was because your heart hadn't skipped on a lie. "This went on for weeks. I gave you so many opportunities to talk to me. I begged you to talk to me. All you did was...ignore how it was hurting me. I don't want to hear whatever lame excuse you're going to come up with."

"I swear it's not an excuse," he pleaded. "I just...I just needed some time. And space."

"Sure," you shrugged again, struggling to maintain the level of calm and rational. "I can understand needing that. I don't know what was bothering you, but you didn't even give me a chance to understand. And now you're...what? Here to officially break up with me? I kind of already figured it was over, seeing as how it's been eleven--"

"Break up?" Matt looked alarmed as his eyes widened. "Is that what you think I'm here to do?"

"Nothing ever good comes from a conversation that starts with "We should talk," Matt."

He took another step around the table, and it took everything in you not to flinch away. Matt had never touched you with anything but gentle hands, and while you weren't on great terms at the moment, you didn't want him to think you were afraid of him.

"Sweetheart, that's not--"

"I love you, Matt," you told him bluntly, cutting him off with a hand raised in front of you, telling him to stop his movement in your direction. "But if the past few weeks were anything to go by, you're not willing, or maybe not able, to let me in. And I don't want to be with someone who hides so many pieces of themselves away from me. It's lonely, and I'm done with it."

He looked absolutely crestfallen, and suddenly resigned. You took a deep breath and soildered on, even as you felt your heart breaking in your chest.

"I'm sorry, Matt."

"No," he croacked out, shaking his head abruptly, eyes sightlessly dancing around the room as he licked his lips. "I'm sorry. I never meant to...have things end this way."

"It's ok." It wasn't. "There's a bag of your things over by the door." You tilted your head toward the duffle bag.

"My...things?"

"Yeah," you responded quietly, gesturing to the door with a hand that seemed limp and lifeless. "Tshirts, hoodies, your extra pair of glasses."

Matt paused for a second in surprise before he walked over to the door, a clumsy gait to his steps that you had never seen on him in the year you'd known him. With obviously shaking hands, he bent down to pick up the bag. His breathing had changed, you'd noticed. It was the breathing of someone about to have a panic attack. You grimaced, hating watching him like this.

Before, you would have comforted him. Held him and played with his hair and whispered how much you loved him in his ear.

But now, you were tired, and knowing what the past few weeks had been like, you honestly weren't sure if he'd even like having your hands on him.

He may have pushed you away first, but here you were shoving him away, too, if only to avoid any further pain on your end. Even if he didn't feel the same way about you as you did him, it was still a painful conversation for both parties.

"I'll swing by on Saturday to grab my stuff," you whispered. Matt let out a shaky sigh, accompanied by a hesitant nod of his head. "I'm going back to bed. Please shut the window behind you."

You left him standing in your kitchen, dark head bent sadly, scarred hands gripping the bag in his hands so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

-----

Saturday rolled around too quickly for your liking. You had gathered one of your large duffle bags and a backpack to take over to Matt's apartment, unsure of just how many things you had over there.

You both had been toying with the idea of you moving in, so naturally quite a bit of your things had accumulated at his place. Work clothes. Sweat pants. Shoes. Your favorite bathrobe. Little bits and pieces of you slowly blending in with his, a subconscious way of laying down the building blocks for a life together.

With a sigh, and a mournful look at the run down front door you'd come to love, you let yourself into his apartment, taking in the scent of the man who had become your rock in a life that had always felt a little unsteady. You knew that most Saturday afternoons were spent catching up on cases with Foggy at their favorite diner, so you didn't expect him to be home.

You walked down the familiar hallway to the living, but abruptly froze when you took in the sight before you, eyes widening in shock.

His place was a mess.

One of his kitchen chairs lay broken next to the wall, clearly having been thrown against it. There was a giant fist-sized hole in the wall next to his bedroom that was shaped exactly like his hand, so you didn't need to guess whose it was. The trash hadn't been taken out in days, it looked like, and beer bottles were scattered along the counter.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

It took you an hour, but you picked up and took out the trash and recycling, and scrubbed down the kitchen. Dishes were washed and put away. Counters wiped down, floor swept. He was a grown adult, more than capable of picking up after himself, but seeing his place in such disarray made you...sad.

You made your way back to where you'd dropped the duffle bag and headed into the bedroom, a place you'd spent so many nignts with him wrapped around you, beneath you, on top of you.

Hands on your hips, you ignored the way your eyes pricked with tears, and thought about where to start first.

You didn't hear the front door open and close, nor did you notice Matt's presence behind you until he called your name softly. Startled, you took a deep breath before you turned around slowly and braced yourself for the second part of a conversation you didn't want to have.

You were scared he would ask you to stay. You were even more scared that he would outright ask you to go.

"Hey."

"Hey," he echoed.

"I'll just...give me a few minutes and I'll be out of your hair. I'm almost done grabbing my stuff." Matt inhaled sharply, head tilting away from you as you spoke. With a frown of your own, you turned your back to him, walking over to the table on what had been your side of the bed.

You placed the duffle bag on the bed and continued placing items into it, not bothering to be organized or have the items be thoughtfully placed. Your extra phone charger. The book you always told yourself you'd finish reading. Your favorite necklace you always forgot you had on until you were snuggled under the covers, forced to sleepily place it on the table to avoid leaving the warmth of him next to you.

You knew you had his total focus, so you did your best not to tear up while you packed your things. This was hard enough as it was, and as much as he had hurt you, you didn't want to make things more difficult for him than it had to be.

Eyeing the shoes you had left next to his closet, you walked forward to scoop them up. They were your favorite pair of heels, and you had worn them the last time you'd gone out for a nice dinner, his hand laced tightly in yours as he helped you keep your balance on the uneven New York City sidewalks, quiet laughter and declarations of love pressed against your cheek. While you both were always, always busy, you still found a way to make time for each other as often as you could.

The thought caused you to sniffle unintentionally as your lip quivered ever so slightly. You rubbed the heels of your palms to your eyes and took a deep breath that shuddered your body on both inhale and exhale. Matt let out a soft whine behind you, and you knew without turning around that he was wanting to pull you into him. He always made that sound when he could tell you were sad and on the verge of breaking down.

Or, at least he used to want to pull you into him before the last month or so, back when he would still touch you and pour his affection and love into your skin. Now, you weren't so sure what he wanted.

"I'm fine, Matt," you told him, voice shaking. You swept up the rest of your shoes into your arms and walked them back to the duffle bag on the bed. "I'll be done here in a few."

"No."

Your head snapped up to look at him incredulously. "No?"

He shook his head adamantly, blank eyes aimed somewhere around your abdomen. "No, don't go. You can't go."

You stared at him in disbelief. "Where was this attitude when you let me just walk out without a word two weeks ago?"

Matt opened his mouth but didn't say anything, merely licking his lips and tilting his head to the side for a moment.

You sighed in disappointment, shaking your head bitterly. "That's what I thought." Using shaking hands, you zipped up the full bag and moved to leave the room.

Matt quickly blocked you, placing himself in between you and the door way, his body just a few feet from yours as his eyes settled on your chin. "Please, just hear me out."

"Matt--"

"Just give me a few minutes, okay? I need to tell you what happened."

His face was flushed with what looked to be mild panic, and you couldn't tell if it was panic at the thought of you leaving, or panic at having to let out whatever had been bothering him so much that he'd thought the best solution was to violently push you away. Maybe it was both.

You took a few steps back from him, nodding silently, as you tried to put some space in between the two of you. Placing the bag back on the bed, you crossed your arms over your chest, willing to hear him out, but not wanting to stand so close to him. This was bound to be painful, anyway you cut it, and having him within arm's reach would most likely make it worse.

"Go ahead, then. If it's just another lie, I'm walking out and never looking back."

Matt nodded jerkily, licking his lips again like he always did when he was nervous. The corner of his bottom lip was split open, and you cringed when you noticed it. Even in your pain, even in your anger, you hated seeing him hurt.

You watched as he opened his mouth and shut it a few times, as if he was still unsure if he actually wanted to speak. Your frustration grew with each second he didn't say anything, your nerves fraying more and more the longer you stood in front of him.

"If you're not gonna actually--"

"Just...hold on," he said, desperation seeping into his voice. "I'm trying to think of the best way to say what I need to say."

"Why? What could be so bad that you--"

"A woman died in my arms a few weeks ago." The words tore their way out of his mouth so suddenly that you weren't sure who was more surprised by them; him, or you. You faltered, all of your irritation and anger and bitterness in your body stumbling to a screeching stop. You looked at him, your jaw dropping in shock, unsure if you had heard him correctly.

"What?"

You'd been face to face with him for the past two minutes, but you felt like you were seeing him for the first time since you'd realized he was in the apartment with you. Your eyes took in his appearance, wincing at his bruised knuckles, a black eye that seemed to be fading, a long jagged scratch on the side of his throat. Matt looked so sad, so lost, as his sightless eyes seemingly focused on the floor next to his feet.

You had been prepared for a bullshit excuse, while still simultaneously hoping for something that would save your relationship with the only man you had ever loved. But you hadn't been expecting...this.

A shiver when down your spine as you stared at him in growing dread.

"A woman died in my arms a few weeks ago," he repeated shakily. He ran a hand through his hair anxiously, tugging at the dark strands that were ready to be cut. "I was...I was a few blocks away when I heard a man yank her into an alley, a gun in his hand."

You stared at him, horrified. You knew the sorts of things that went on while he was out. Human trafficking. Drug busts. Muggings. Assaults.

Matt didn't like talking about it most of the time, and you didn't like pressing him on it if it made him uncomfortable. But to hear something like this come ripping itself out if his mouth was extremely jarring and you found yourself terrified of what he was going to say next.

He took another deep breath.

"I heard her scream, heard how he slapped his hand over her mouth to quiet her, heard him cock the gun and dig it into her stomach." Matt was fidgeting with the zipper on his hoodie as he spoke, and a part of you longed to take your hand in his, wondering if it might calm his restlessness. You held yourself back, though, not yet trusting your feet to move you forward without stumbling to the ground.

"He demanded that she give him her purse, which she did, of course. But then he ordered her to unbutton her shirt, and she refused."

Your heart hammered in your chest, face growing paler by the second.

"She tried to push him off of her, and he got mad and...pulled the trigger. I was still a few blocks away." Matt walked forward as if he were in a trance, unfocused eyes glazed over, hands feeling around for his bed. It alarmed you that he was so distraught that he was relying on his hands alone to navigate his bedroom, the rest of his senses so wrapped up in a horrifying memory. He took a seat, sinking onto the mattress with a heavy, pained sigh.

"When I got there, I could tell she wasn't going to make it." He briefly shut his eyes in a grimace, an intense full-body shudder wracking through him. "The guy was gone, but I didn't bother going after him because I knew I needed to stay with her. Make sure she wasn't alone." The breath he took was so shaky, and you found yourself finally able to move as your forced yourself forward, kneeling at his feet once you were in front of him. Your hand was grasping his a second later, suddenly unwilling to let him relive this alone as he tore himself apart to finally let you in.

"I held her as she bled out," Matt choked out, as if it was suddenly difficult to breathe. You gripped his thigh, and did your best to rub soothing circles into the muscle that lay under his jeans. "I tried to stop the bleeding, hoping I was wrong, that she could still make it, but the blood was coming out too fast and there was nothing I could do. She was sobbing, begging me to save her, and I couldn't."

You didn't know when you had started crying, but you had to take your hand off his leg briefly to wipe your eyes to clear your vision. His hand shook in yours.

"And she..." Matt paused again, taking another deep, gasping breath. "She reminded me of you."

"What?" you asked, immediately confused, mind scrambling to comprehend what he had just said, suddenly frantic to make sense of what he had just told you. "What do you mean?"

"She reminded me of you," he repeated quietly. "Roughly the same height. Similar accent, the one that only comes out when you're upset. A blouse made of the same material you wear so often. And she...she used the same shampoo."

Matt's hand lifted to wipe at the tears on his face as he struggled to speak. "This woman I didn't know was dying in my arms. And...and even as I tried to comfort her, all I could think about was you. All I could think about was...what if you were in trouble, and I couldn't get to you in time?"

Your mind twisted and turned as realization finally hit you.

This.

This was what had been driving him away from you, this belief that he would never be the kind of man you needed. This was the root of it.

"Matt, love. I'm fine. I'm here."

"I know you are," he let out, hand still trembling in yours, and steadily getting worse. His unfocused gaze landed on your forehead, and you could see the dark circles under his eyes up close. "But even before this happened, this is something I would think about often, something I still think about often. The thought of...of not being good enough or quick enough or strong enough to stop something bad from happening to you."

Taking a deep, unsteady breath of your own, you reached your hand up to cradle his cheek, and he immediately turned his head slightly to kiss your palm, needing the affection only you could provide.

"I trust you with my life, Matt."

He nodded with his eyes closed, swallowing before he spoke. "I know you do. But this...this was so real. It was just literally staring me in the face, this idea of losing you. And while I'm panicking and thinking about you, this woman is dying in my arms. And I can't even give her my full attention to comfort her, because I'm imaging someone else dying in front of me, and I couldn’t handle it."

You made a soft, mournful noise, and unable to stop yourself, you stood up and pushed his shoulders back from where he had hunched in on himself, before settling yourself in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, with one hand reaching up to slide into his hair. With a shudder, his arms came up around you, holding you to him in a grip that you knew would leave bruises.

You'd let him leave marks all over your skin if it meant he would take even one ounce of comfort from you.

The pair of you sat in silence for a while, cheeks pressed together, trying to match your breathing to his, and vice versa. You rubbed your hand soothingly up and down his back, avoiding any areas that seemed tender. You felt a raised ridge of skin near his left hip and knew it meant he'd needed stitches recently.

You grimaced, wishing you'd been there for him, even if he hadn't wanted you to be.

"Why were you pushing me away, Matt? All I want is to be here for you," you told him gently when his breathing seemed to have settled a bit. You pulled back a bit to hold his face in your hands, where you used your thumbs to wipe away a few stray tears.

His grip tightened and he leaned into you, seemingly trying to keep as much contact with you as he could. And even while he tried to get as close to you as physically possible, you half expected him to pull away from you again. Instead, he surprised you by pushing on, at last tearing down that final barrier.

"It was hard being around you," he admitted softly. His hand reached up to massage the back of your neck, a habit he had started when he was trying to assure himself you were next to him. "I was having such awful nightmares and I didn't want you around while I slept. You sliced your finger open three weeks ago, and all I could think about was you bleeding out all over me. If I hugged you, the smell of your shampoo would bring me right back to that alley, so I started avoiding touching you. And the more you got upset, the more angry I got. But not angry at you, angry at myself for making you feel that way."

You listened quietly, ignoring how your eyes were watering, and how hard your heart was pounding in your chest.

"I was hurting. And because I was hurting, I struggled being around you, to the point where it started hurting you, too. It just became this vicious cycle that I didn't know to stop, and all of a sudden it was too late and you were walking away."

You didn't say anything as you took in what he was telling you. You continued to hold him, lips occasionally brushing over his cheek as your hands continued to run gently up and down his back.

"I'm sorry this happened," you whispered, your voice catching. "I'm sorry you went through that, I'm sorry that I got upset."

"No, sweetheart," he brought a finger up to your lips in an effort to shush you. "Don't...don't apologize. This isn't on you."

"But--"

"No," he repeated firmly. "I should have said something. I was wrong for pushing you away like that. I...I wasn't...I didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to handle it, and I took it out on you. On our relationship."

Your lip quivered. "You can't do that, Matt."

"I know."

"No, you don't know," you told him. "I'm not even talking about how it made me feel. I'm talking about you. I want you to be safe, and loved, and cared for. You deserve those things. You deserve to have someone there to hold your hand and be there for you. But I can't...I can't be there for you and help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

Matt was nodding while you spoke, eyes shut tight as he listened. You knew there was a voice in the back of his head telling you he didn't deserve those things, would never deserve them, and it broke your heart.

You tilted his head towards you and leaned in to press your lips gently to his. He let out a sigh as he brought a hand up to grasp your cheek.

"I'll always fight for you, Matt." He let out a shaky breath at your vow. "I'll always fight for you. Even if I'm fighting you against you. But I...I need you to fight for me, too. Okay? You can't let me walk out that door again. I need to know you're not going to just push me away like that again. You can yell and cry and ask me for anything, everything you need. But don't let me go."

"I won't, I won't do that again," he promised as he continued to stroke your check with his thumb. "I should never have let that happen. And I should have never waited so long to come after you. I love you."

You kissed him again, a little firmer this time, but no less tender. "I love you, too."

Silence took over again as you continued to sit there. You focused on the way his hand was now running up and down your arm gently, while the other brushed at your hip from where it was wrapped around you. Cradling his face in your hands, you placed a series of kisses on his face; his eyelids, his forehead, his cheeks. With each kiss, you felt a sliver of tension bleed away from him, until at last he seemed to sag in relief.

You eyed the duffle bag that was still on his bed, grateful that he had come home when he did so that you could have this talk. You weren't sure how you would have handled living in a world without him by your side. It had only been a year, but you knew this was something you wanted for the rest of your life. Knew that he was someone you wanted for the rest of your life.

You were willing, oh so willingly, to do whatever this man needed, whatever he asked of you.

Glancing at the bathroom door, an idea came to you. An idea that might be a good place to start, no matter how small and insignificant it would seem. Without much thought, you decided to act on it, desperate to help him in whatever way you could.

"Let me go, Matt." You gently pushed against the arms that held you to him.

"What? Why?" You didn't miss the way the panic seeped into his voice.

"Just...let go. Let me get up." Confused, he slowly and reluctantly released you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead, before standing up and walking towards the bathroom. You heard him get up behind you.

"Where are you going?" You knew him well enough to hear the anxiety creeping in, this time more insistent. You turned around, kicking off your shoes as you did so. Your shirt was pulled off and thrown to the floor at his feet, and your pants soon followed.

"I figured we'd start with a shower."

"A...shower?"

"Yes. You're going to help me wash my hair until you can't smell my shampoo any longer, and then you're going to keep talking to me and let me cuddle you the rest of the afternoon. You coming?"

For the first time in weeks, the tiniest hint of a smile appeared on his face, though it was brief and utterly bewildered, as his own shirt hit the floor. Matt stil look bemused, but he went along with your idea. He took a few hesitant steps forward until he was right in front of you.

Rough hands gripped your cheek, pushed your hair back behind your ears, and tilted your head forward so that he could place a gentle kiss to your forehead. With a soft sigh, he reached down to grasp your hand, and you let him pull you into the bathroom.

#daredevil #matt murdock #human disaster matt murdock #marvel #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock angst

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 7 months

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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘: Edging w/ Rick Grimes

a/n: in honor of michonne and rick's new show coming out, i figured i'd dig this out of the drafts instead of waiting for next october to complete this challenge 💀 also thank you guys for the absolute MASSIVE influx of support since last kinktober. i feel so honored!! <33

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

Your body was damp, and your legs were trembling around his shoulders. With every flick of Rick's tongue, the pleasure shot up your spine like electricity, setting your nerves alive.

How many orgasms should you have had? Honestly, you lost count, the only thing even keeping you anchored to this plane was the large hands that pressed down on your stomach, and the strong arms that held you apart, no matter how many times your legs spamsed with the intent to close around him.

"Rick!" You cried out, fingers desperately digging into his soft brown curls. But, it was no use. The man buried himself further into your mound, your folds spreading apart as his tongue dug deeper inside of you.

He was eating you wildly and without mercy, your arousal practially pouring out of you and onto his face. He didn't care about that of course, only caring about dragging you so dangerously close to the edge just to snatch you right back. You hadn't really done anything that prompted this kind of punishment. Sometimes, Rick just wanted to play.

"I- I can't…" You felt that all too familiar coil nestle itself into your gut, twisting and pulling until you were basically keeping him anchored to your cunt. He didn't indulge in you though, because as soon as your velvety walls spasmed around his wet muscle, he pulled away, leaving you high and dry.

"Fuck!" You sobbed, hips jolting and searching for his friction but to no avail. "Please… please." You begged, reaching for the older man.

"C'mon," He finally drawled. His voice was broken and raspy, but there was a satisfied grin on his face. "One more time 'nd I'll let ya, alrigh'?" He searched your eyes for any hesitancy before diving back down into the wetlands that was your pussy.

As much as you act like you don't like it, you would let him do this, again, and again, and again.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

#♡ ― nsfmeau !#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day thirty #plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size!reader #chubby reader #x chubby reader #rick fanfiction #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes kinktober #rick x reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x plus size reader #rick grimes smut #smut #fanfiction

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dookins · 5 days

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Ladies and Gentlemen, Gays and Theys,

He's Finally Here....

DAKAMURA COWBOY P03

God part of me can't believe I did this... Welp, I guess this is my life now! So uh, yeah! Coming to my Etsy Shop, a SUPER LIMITED RUN of a Bounty Hunter P03 Pillowcase! 50x150cm or 19.6x59inches with 2 Way Tricot Fabric!

One side sultry, one side smug!

Originally I wanted to make the other side a different P03 entirely but I ran outta time. If this one does well though, who knows, maybe I'll make it? ONLY SIX HAVE BEEN ORDERED So as soon the release date hits, it's a first come first serve deal. When that is, Mid October or Early November if everything goes off without a hitch. As for how much, just the pillowcases and shipping cost me $137, so I still need some time to think about it. My 'manager' wants to make sure the cost pays for itself before half, so... probably $60-$80 ball park. I know I know that's kinda expensive, but it's because I didn't wanna get the smaller size. I know that if I had a character body pillow, I'd like it close to 'actual size' as I can be. I hope it's been worth the wait!

As a side note, my older P03 merch is dwindling down. The only prints I have remaining for cowboy P03 have white siding, or slightly bent corners due to bad cuts during production and poor containment during delivery. So I cut the the price in half. It sorta adds to the grunginess of the image, so it's not terrible. But I can't in good conscious sell those at full price.

Also Pokemon stickers are now available too! And they're HUGE!!

More to come later in the week. A new addition to The Cozy Ferret, and introducing some merch of a popular Inscryption artist you might know about ;) Until than! Thank ya kindly for listenin!!! <3

#p03 #inscryption p03 #inscryption bounty hunter au #bots bounties and babes #bbb #shux howdy #inscryption #inscryption western au #cowboy p03 #p03 my beloved #p03 body pillow #p03 dakamura

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skinbeneaththeskull · 1 year

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THIS IS A POST FOR THE HALLOWEEN THING I WAS TALKING ABOUT giving it to ya'll early cus i can't wait until october to actually post it

TW FOR KNIVES N BLOOD 🏃‍♀️

imagine going to a costume party in the 80's, dressing up as a slutty, revealing outfit just so you could get everyone's attention. you went with some of your girlfriends who basically begged you to go, and tried convincing you to go because hot guys were going to be there, so of course you agreed.

when you finally showed up, everyone was wearing something and practically already drunk and high on whatever they were smoking. you all split up, trying to mingle with people. everyone you met were boring, so you decided it was time for a drink. you went over to the kitchen, grabbing a beer, while another hand grabbed one as well, you staring at the figure. you smiled at them, someone dressed up at ghost face. it was probably the most "accurate" halloween costume you've seen all night.

"you chose to dress up scary, huh?"

you chuckled, popping open your beer before actually deciding to talk to the other, "yeah, i guess so. thought it made sense," the voice coming from behind the mask sounded higher pitched and nervous, kinda like a pre-teen. it three you off guard a little bit, but there's not way he could be that young to be at a college party.

"what's your name?"

"er- Kirk,"

he was hesitant, but you just shrugged it off, "why do you sound so nervous? did something happen?" you asked, getting closer to him, bodies accidentally rubbing up against eachother. he paused for a long moment before answering, "oh uh- no, no. you just look really nice.... that's all." he said a little sarcastically, you crossing your arms, looking up at him.

"sooooo.. are you saying i don't actually look good, Kirk?"

"wh- no!! i really do like it- looks hot, that's all,"

you couldn't hide the rosiness from your cheeks, Kirk getting closer, extending an arm around your waist and pulled you even closer, walking with you like a guard dog.

"can we get a room?"

you laughed at how straight to the point he was, but you agreed, him taking you to an empty room, locking the door. he hesitated to take his mask off, but he did, showing how much of a literal angel he was underneath.

"sorry, should i put it back on?"

he immediately pulled it on by the jaw dropped look you were giving him, the rest of him shirtless with only boxers on. you stripped as well, only staying in your bra and panties.

he got on the bed, you immediately straddling him, grinding against his knee, his hands slithering up your body to land on your hips, squeezing at the flesh that spilled out of his fingers.

he pulled himself out of his boxers, slapping the tip against your thigh, "can i put it in?" he asked before you hummed in approval. he didn't waste any time before burying the tip inside your seeping cunt, him throwing his head back as he let out a relieved, loud groan.

"mmh.. so wet. fuck yourself on my dick, baby.."

while you were doing that, he pulled out a pocket knife, immediately getting startled because you thought he was going to murder you, but he was softly teasing your skin with it. soon enough starting to lightly press down, carving "kh" into the flesh of your thigh. when he did, you were whimpering and whining at the blade. he ripped the mask of, him already looking fucked out.

you two were going pretty slow and he couldn't take it anymore, ripping you off of him and putting you onto your back, forcing your legs open before going down on you without any warning. you were squirming and moaning at the touch, gripping at his curly hair, pushing him down and thrusting your hips up.

he chuckled at your desperation, him closing his eyes before sucking harshly around your clit, earning a few high pitched gasps and name moans from you. the slurping sounds were getting louder and messier before you came in his mouth.

your legs were shaking and involuntarily closed when he pulled away, him wiping his mouth. he bent down to lick over the blood on your thigh before he kissed you.

"so good, felt so good.."

he said softly before laying next to you. you felt bad for not making him cum, so you decided to blow him too, just to return the favor. the fast pace made him whine, pushing your head down softly before immediately shooting his load down your mouth. you choked a little but then brought your head back up to rest your head on his chest.

you had a fun time, and maybe you should listen to your friends more often. you two both passed out soon after that, Kirk holding you close and bringing a blanket to cover the both of you.

#metallica #kirk hammett #kirk x reader #kirk hammett x reader #kirk smut #kirk hammett smut

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wizzdot · 2 months

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The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Ch12

Description: sorry for the long wait guys! Work has been crazyyyy - anyway. Here it is! Lil bit of progress with Simon - I reckon it’ll be 1 step forward, 2 back for a little while. Simon and Laika are both as fucked up as each other!! It’s a long chapter to make up for the wait. Hope you enjoy!!

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

I'd been warned during dinner last night that I was going to be 'put through my paces' today. The Captain told me to get a good nights sleep. Kyle and Johnny dropped me off at my room - Kyle said goodnight with a soft kiss to my cheek, and Johnny told me not to let the bed bugs bite. He also kissed me on the cheek, but it was far too close to the corner of my mouth. He must have missed his target. I spent all night trying to brush it off.

*Johnny's POV*

The pizza had been good, Kyle was bold and kissed our little lass on the cheek. I couldn't stop myself, had to one up him.. Her little blush and awkward reaction made it worth the risk. Gaz and I practically ran back to our shared room - we needed to rest up for training tomorrow. We finally get to see what our little Lass is made of.

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

Knock Knock Knock

"Lass? Can we come in..? Y'ready for us?"

I'd just stepped out of the shower. "Uhh - two seconds.. I'm just getting changed" I shout back through the door. I rush to pull on some workout shorts and a black sports bra. I glance at myself in the mirror. I swear that I already look healthier - I'd gone sort of gaunt during my time at the facility. My skin looks brighter, I'm cleaner and relaxed... and happier.

"I'm dressed but still need to braid my hair.." As soon as the words have left my mouth, Johnny barrels into the room, followed closely by Kyle. "Mornin', Lass" - "Hi Johnny" I reply, softly. Kyle puts his arm around my shoulders and smiles brightly at me "ready for today? Cap's in charge of what we're doing.. just need to see where we are at with you.. apparently there's shit going down in Mexico so we might need to step in over there... Just before Christmas too.." he sighs sadly.

I furrow my brows - "Christmas? I thought it was October??" - "Ignore him, Lass, he is one of them crazy people who wants to put the tree up straight after Halloween".

I look at Kyle and giggle. "I thought it was winter when you first found me" - "It's always winter in Russia to be fair" Kyle jokes back. "Yeah but you can't go confusing me like that.. I've not been aware of seasons or dates for years, I was just starting to grasp it again.. so no Christmas stuff until December...?" I explain, feeling more and more relaxed around the two younger Alphas everyday. "You promise to be here for Christmas, then?" Johnny bargains. There's that sad flip in my stomach again. "I - I don't know where I'll be, Johnny.. I don't think I am in control of that decision".

"We'll not let you leave.." Kyle jokes "Aye, hide you away from the others" Johnny continues, nudging Kyle. They both laugh but I just shake my head.

We are interrupted by the Captain who stands in the open door, not stepping inside. "Laika, didn't I tell you that those two shouldn't just let themselves into your room like this...?" - "I - I let them in, Cap- Sorry- John" he huffs a laugh "If you say so. Put your trainers on and let's get to the gym before the basics turn up for the day. Ghost's there already". he grumbles, rolling his eyes at the possibility of basic training turning up mid-session.

"You don't have to worry if the rookies turn up, Lass. They're a bunch of prats, think they're all Billy big baws and like to throw their scents around and show off.. if any of them bother you, we'll sort 'em out" I look at Johnny and nod with furrowed brows. I was nervous.

The Lieutenant is loitering menacingly at the sparring mats when we all arrive at the gym. "Took your fuckin' time" he grunts. I try not to react but I can't help the guilt that washes over me. "Laika, on the mat" he jerks his head toward the mat. I obey and step onto the mat, ringing my hands together nervously, chewing the skin inside of my cheek. "Gaz, I want you to go through basic sparring movements, see what she's made of" the Luitennant orders. Kyle looks between the masked Alpha and myself with unsure eyes. "Are you sure..?" I look up at him nodding "I'll be ok.. orders are orders" I reassure myself, trying to slip back behind my own mask. Trying desperately to become the asset again. Unfeeling, cold and calculated.

My eyes start to take in Kyle's movements, analysing when and how he will move. He is the leanest of the pack of Alpha's, meaning he is probably the fastest. But I'm smaller and, hopefully, smarter. He steps, hesitantly onto the mat and raises his arms into a defensive position. "Gaz, for fuck sake, move!" the Lieutenant barks "She ain't going to throw the first punch!" Something inside of me screams 'NOW'.

I leap forward and slide to the ground taking Kyle's legs out from under him before he has the chance to react. He was too busy concentrating on the upper half of his body.

Kyle falls backwards and lands just beside me, so I scramble to get nearer, using my legs to restrain his arms and placing my forearm over his throat firmly so he couldn't move. I meet his eye, and he looks completely shocked. Then a slow smirk starts to form on his face. He reaches up and taps twice on my back. Impressive, lovie" he chuckles. I release him and clamber away from his body, which is still laying flat on the mat, I start apologising over and over again..

"Soap.. your turn. Try not to get distracted like Garrick did, this is all pointless if you go easy on her.." Ghost barks. I look at Johnny with sad eyes. "C'mon, lass.. you heard the man. Lets have a proper tussle" he wiggles his eyebrows. My body betrays me, as it so often does, falling victim to Johnny's flirtatious comments. I blush and look away. This time Johnny is on me as quickly as I look away. I'm the one caught off guard this time. SHIT.

He gets us both to the ground and I can tell he is attempting to use his weight advantage against me. He just wants to get me pinned which will win him the match. I realise that I need to get back to my feet, and fast. I allow him to roll me far too easily which gives me the momentum to push away from him. I knee toward his crotch while we roll and manage to catch him lightly, just enough for him to curl in on himself slightly, giving me a small enough window to climb back to my feet.

He tries to get up quickly but he is on his knees. I grab his neck and use all of my body weight to pull him to the floor, practically wrapped around his torso like some sort of demented koala bear. He chokes slightly and taps twice on my upper arm, which is currently holding his neck in a headlock. I immediately let go, "Sorry.. I'm sorry. I hate this..." I panic, thinking that I'd pissed him off. "Lass, nothin' to be sorry for. You're a feral little madam on the mats.." He brushes his legs off and grabs me around the shoulders, pulling me towards his chest. He presses a quick kiss to my hair and pushes me gently back towards the mat, not before whispering in my ear "Clever little Lass".

"Not bad" Ghost says. "Tell me what you think of knives.." - "the winner of a knife fight is whoever dies second, or finds help quickly enough to survive. No one stays clean in a knife fight.." I murmur. The luitennant tilts his head and narrows his eyes at me. It's difficult to read his thoughts when he has the mask on, but what I'd said obviously struck a nerve with him. "Show me what you mean by that - here.." he hands me a dummy knife and steps toward the mat behind me..

"Wi-with you..?" I ask nervously. "Problem?" he grunts back at me. I shake my head.

He stands there with confidence. I must look ridiculous. I don't know what to do. The lieutenant suddenly takes a wide swipe with the knife, it narrowly misses my stomach thanks to my quick survival instincts telling my body to jump backwards. I suddenly snap back into the 'asset' mindset. I leap forward and aim for his head. His eyes, to be specific. I see a flash of surprise cross his eyes before he slams the knife from my hand, pain shoots up my entire arm but I ignore it. I react by kicking his outstretched arm so that he is also knife-less. I then leap at him and try to clamber up his back. He grabs me by the shoulder and slams me hard on the ground winding me. I slide backwards, terrified at the behemoth of an Alpha towering over me. I whimper, scared trying to get away, still winded and pain still shooting up my arm.

"Stop. STOP" he bellows. I whimper again, confused and terrified. I can see a storm brewing behind the masked Alpha's eyes. "GAZ - get her up, for fuck sake.." the Lieutenant storms away from the gym, the Captain following closely behind him. My eyes don't leave his form until the gym doors swing shut and Kyle and Johnny are cooing at me, trying to calm me down.

*GHOSTS POV*

FUCK, she's not a trained soldier by any stretch. But Christ, she goes into a desperate survival mode. Kill or be killed is the only description I can think of. Watching how she sparred with Kyle and Johnny, she was scared. Acting out of fear, and fear alone.

I wanted to see her knife skills - I don't know why I decided I should spar with her. She suddenly switched. That look in her eyes. She was feral. She was genuinely trying to hurt me. She had no differentiation between training and real fighting. It was all real to her. Kill or be killed - and she thought I was trying to kill her... She thinks I'm a monster.

I try to stop her by disarming her, I know my thumping blow to her arm must have hurt. It had to, but she barely even flinched. She was in survival mode. She caught me off guard and disarmed me. Clever girl, leveling the playing field - if this was a real fight that is - but I was trying to halt the fight. She needed to cool off before she went even more feral.

I was NOT expecting her to leap at my back and try to choke me. It left me with only one option - to flip her and get her flat on the ground. It worked for a couple of seconds. She paused, the look in her eye no longer murderous. But within a split second, she stunk of pure fear. Like she was staring at death himself. Me. I try to step forward with a hand out to show that I was no longer armed but she backed away, eyes flashing like a cornered dog.

SHIT. Why'd my stomach do that. I'm trying to help her and she's fuckin' terrified of me. Fuckin' hurt her too.

"Stop" I try. It doesn't work. "STOP" fuck Simon, why can't you be fuckin' gentle for once?! Brute - my brain shouts at me.

"Gaz - get her up, for fuck sake.." I shout. She looks helpless but, fuck, I feel helpless as well. I've never felt like this.

The sharp, sour smell of her fear. It makes my eyes water. Makes me want to fuckin' hurl. I turn and leave, not feeling well all of a sudden.

She has two Alpha's she actually likes to help her. Fuck, I hope she isn't hurt.. I don't deserve nice things. My Pack are probably going to drop me now. The fucking brute that you are Simon Riley.

The anger at my own stupidity boils over. I'd almost made it back to the Pack room but my fist meets the wall before I get there. I roar, angrily - or did it sound more broken than that? FUCK. Then I smell Price. He is fuckin' seething. I can already smell him.

I slam the door to the shared room and slide down the wall, grabbing angrily at my mask. I rip it from my face. "ARGRGHHHHHH" I roar again. I grab fistfuls of my hair. Fuckin' prick.

I hear the door close and then a presence sit beside me. It's Price.

"What the bloody hell happened back there Simon?" he growls. I can tell he is holding back his rage.

"She was feral" I grunt. I didn't know what else to say..

"And why was that..? Why did you let it get to that stage..?" he asks. Fuck sake, he is treating me like a fuckin' child.

"Wasn't just me. The girl doesn't know the difference between practice and survival.. She was fighting for her fuckin' life" I growl, pulling at my hair.

I feel his hands pry mine away from my head. "Simon. C'mon. Look at me.." - "Alpha - I need some time..." I break slightly.

"Time for what, Simon?" - "Time to think. I don't understand what is happening.. I can't stand the girl. I can't be near her"

John stays silent beside me, knowing that I needed to find my own way out from this maze.

"But.. but when she had that look in her eye, I needed to protect her. Protect her from me.. It's either me or her, Cap. I can't be near her. I'll kill her".

A warm hand grips my shoulder and squeezes. "Simon. You are too hard on yourself. You are the glue that often holds this pack together. Laika is finding her place in a new world. You've been in a similar position. I have a feeling you two are more alike than you think. Please, give it time. I'm not throwing you out of the pack, Simon. I'm not even angry at you. Never doubt your place or importance here, Simon - Never. Is that understood?"

My eyes furrow. I grab my mask and pull it back over my face. "Yes, sir. Understood" - "good, now come. The boys will have calmed Laika down by now" - "I hurt her" I interrupt. "You didn't mean to. I know you were trying to stop the fight. I saw it" - "she will need the medic.. I hit her hard. Can't do anything gentle. Fuckin' brute" - "Simon.. you did what you had to... she was going feral. C'mon, no more sparring. We will move onto target practice and finish with a five kilometer run - together. That'll be enough to fill in her file. We can make up the rest. She is on the team, I don't care about all of the tests".

I can feel my head clearing, the pack Alpha had successfully dragged me from a dark spiral. My panic attacks were not pretty. I get back to my feet when he offers me a hand to help hoist me up. "Sorry.." - "No Simon, save your apologies. Small steps, yeah? Let's work on chipping away at that wall you put up around Laika first. The boys adore her already.." - "I know. Johnny reeks of her at night time. Felt like I was wakin' up next to a fuckin' Omega this morning" - "Simon, she hasn't presented. I had her tested - results aren't back till next.." - "John - she is a fuckin' Omega. Stunk of honey and oranges since the first time I saw her tied up against the wall when Johnny found her. Can't you smell her..?"

"Faintly. The doctors said her scent will settle once the drugs leave her system. But her scent - it's barely there, Simon. She smells more like Johnny and Kyle right now" he shakes his head at me as if he doesn't believe me. "That's impossible.." - "I'll talk to the doctors tomorrow, Simon. We've got to get through today. I've got Kate on at me about Mexico - we will need to decide what to do about that - so the sooner she is cleared to work with us, the better, understood?" - "Yes, sir" - "Right, screw your head back on and come with me. I'll take the lead for the rest of the day. You sit back with Johnny and cool yourself off, ok?" -

“Affirmative”

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

Kyle and Johnny saw what happened. They saw me trying to kill their pack mate. "I'm sorry - I don't - I don't know what happened.. I'm.." - "Shhh Love, hey, look at us - you need to look at us. We aren't angry at you. The Captain is with Simon, he will be ok. We need to check your back and your arm. You got hit pretty hard.." Kyle explains, stroking my cheek.

"Aye, Lass, c'mon, let us have a wee look, just want to make sure you're ok.." - "I'm fine.. I'm ok.." - "You sure..?" - "Yeah, promise" I assure them, even though I am feeling the aches from Ghost's hits. I jump slightly when the gym doors crash open. It's them. The Captain and Lieutenant. Ghost stops about 10 yards from the rest of us. I try not to look toward him, still feeling nervous. I see the Captain nod Johnny in Ghost's direction and Johnny immediately walks toward the massive Alpha and comforts him.

The Captain steps closer to me. "You're ok to continue? Not hurt?" - "No, Captain" I pretend. "Ok, we are going to the shooting range.. boys, lead the way" He directs toward Johnny and Ghost. They both turn and lead us to the shooting range. It's a huge open field. Targets and metal human-shaped silhouettes peaking out from behind pretend trenches and sand bag walls.

There are a couple of sergeants already shooting when we arrive. I get handed a set of ear protectors from John. He then walks me to a locked metal shed and explains that this is one of the gun-stores on the base.

"You said you were a sniper?" _ "Yes" - "What'd you use..?" - "Uhm.. A gun..?" - "You don't know what model of rifle?" - "Oh.. sorry.. no - I just used what they gave me, just happened to be quite good" I admit shyly. He huffs a small laugh and then grabs a large case and lays it gently on the ground, opening the top to reveal a huge, dark green rifle.

"This is an Accuracy International rifle.. we've used them for a long while now, best you'll get. We can alter sights and scopes to suit you. They're quite lightweight compared to other manufacturers. In all, it's probably seven kilos - give it a try and see what you think, Love". I stare at the piece of metal as if it would jump out and attack me. "This is the L96 model.. I assume that you used a Russian SV-98 type? They're popular over there. Poor mans sniper they are, if you were good with one of them, you'll be impressive with one of these" the Captain rambles. It's all pretty pointless to be honest because I know nothing about guns. I was just thrown one by a guard and told to shoot it, and punished if I missed. You learn fast that way.

I listen to him talk anyway, enjoying the gruffness of his voice and the fact that he seemed quite interested and excited to talk about guns. I nod along as if I understand what he is saying. "Ok, Let's give it a try then, love" -he hands me the gun and stands closely behind me. "See that target over there" he points "I want you to hit that - take your time". I nod and get comfortable holding the rifle. It feels different. Foreign. I lower myself to the ground and eye up the target in the scope. I breathe in and hold my breath. One, two, click.

"Well done - slightly left but hit the target" the Captain says. I furrow my brows, confused. "Can I try again?" I ask, disappointed. He shrugs and nods. I aim again and concentrate more this time. Breathe in. Hold it. One, Two, Shoot... Fuckin' left again.. what the fuck?

"You're doin' well, Lass. Why are you pissed off. It's not like you're missing.." Johnny pipes up. I scoff at him. "It should be hitting dead center.. I don't miss, Johnny.. I can't miss like this.." I rant. "I'm trying again, I think the guns sight is off.." I get into position the same as the last two tries but this time I aim half a line further to the right of the cross hair. One, two, Click. I huff a laugh. "Got it.. I need to aim off to the right to make a clean hit. I'll get used to it.." I mumble, continuing to eye the scope and point the rifle in different directions, pretending to aim at things. "Whoa, lass. Dinnae point it at us, fuck sake" Johnny jokes as I start turning slowly towards the pack. I was totally in my own little world there.

"We can have the sight adjusted if you like?" John offers "although I doubt it's this one that's been off. I reckon the one you've learnt to shoot with is off - so you naturally drop your rest arm to allow for the difference. Have you noticed that..?" John questions. "Uhm, no.. I've only ever used that sniper rifle.. I don't really know much about guns - was just given a crash course to be honest.."

He smiles and pats the top of my head "Well you ain't half bad for just having had a crash course, love - those hits would have passed you as a sniper here anyway, yet here you are complaining that you're a couple of millimeters left of where you wanted it.." I laugh nervously and look down at my feet.

Kyle walks up beside me and removes the gun from my arms and places it gently back in its case. "Better shot than most of us, anyway.. I reckon with a bit of familiarization with the new scope, you'll out-perform LT" I immediately glance back to the ground and feel nervous, scared to feel the wrath of the Lieutenant again. I subconsciously rub my sore arm before the Captain speaks up. "I wanted to end the day with a quick five kilometer run. It'll give Laika chance to see the perimeter of the base and also good exercise for you three lazy buggers!" he jokes. Johnny clutches his chest in false offence, Kyle just laughs and walks himself over to the Captain, giving him a gentle shove. "Lazy, sir? I'm not sure about that.." I blush - was he flirting with his Alpha? I shouldn't be witnessing this. I'm not one of them.. The Captain chuckles darkly and jokingly grabs Kyle by the scruff of his neck and growls softly at him, causing the younger Alpha to groan and blush. I turn away.

Johnny just laughs along, elbowing Simon who still looks pissed off from this mornings encounter.

The gun case gets placed on the floor of the large cabinet, stood upright. The Captain goes and chats to the supervisor and takes a small paper ticket and signs something. I watch from a distance, assuming he was just signing the gun back into storage. He returns to the group and smiles "Right, get your arses in gear. Take the first km steady as the warm up, then we will see who's the fastest. Finish is back here. Full lap of the base.. no cheating, Simon". I furrow my brows again, god I do that a lot, I'm going to get a frown line if I'm not careful. The Lieutenant didn't strike me as the type to cheat on a simple jog. I shake my head and watch the others limber up and stretch. I don't join them. Just watch, confused. I only ever ran when I was forced or chased. Never for.. leisure?

"Right, Kyle - lead us off for the first few hundred meters, just to get us onto the outside loop" - "Yessir'" Kyle chirps back. He strides off quickly. I try to stay with Johnny. Simon and John jogging gently behind. I stay on Johnny's heels for a few minutes but can feel myself getting tired. He keeps looking round at me as if he is surprised I'm still that close to him. Kyle is away out in front. How does he make it look so easy?! He is barely breaking a sweat, looks like he is just floating. I guess he was the best runner of the team. Johnny runs like a man possessed. I huff a laugh, his run matches his personality. All elbows and fast movements. He looked busy but he was still fast. I glance behind to try and spot the other two Alphas.

"Dinnae' look back when you're running Lassie, you'll trip!" Johnny shouts, while running backwards. What a showoff! I scoff and roll my eyes at him before wiping the sweat from my brow. "The two big'uns are slow, lass! Too heavy to be speedy like me and Kyle.." He jokes, speeding up and slowing down. "Johnny!" I pant, struggling to talk while gasping for air "Stop showing off!" - "No, Lass - I'm impressed, you're doing well! Didn't think you'd keep up with me to be honest - Gaz ran track when he was at school, he coulda been a pro runner, fucken bullshit. He has the record on base - as if I didn't almost bust a fuckin' gut to beat him to still lose" he laughs. I glance up ahead and Kyle is barely even trying. In fact, it looks like he is on his phone.. he has slowed right down as if he is waiting for us.

I just concentrate on forcing my feet to keep hitting the ground one in front of the other. I couldn't say that I was enjoying this, but it was better than being forced or chased.. It was weirdly satisfying. My lungs were on fire but I wasn't in danger.. I was just running for the sake of it - something I never thought I'd ever manage to do again. I felt like a child in a playground. The strange nostalgic feeling helps to push the pain and fatigue away. I actually somehow manage to pick up the pace. I glance back behind me and can no longer see the two larger Alphas. Just Kyle a couple of hundred meters ahead, and Johnny about ten meters in front of me.

I fall into a relaxed state, all I could hear was my own breaths and all I concentrated on was keeping them even. In Out In Out In Out. A few meters we turn a corner and I spot the Captain and Lieutenant ahead of us all. HANG ON A FUCKIN' MINUTE - CHEATS. I speed up, as does Johnny. "Ya see that, Lass, fuckin' Cap dinnae even take his own advice. Let's get them!" He shouts back to me mischievously. I giggle and shake my head fondly, but push myself faster.

Kyle goes past them first and obviously makes a comment because Ghost gestures with his hands and John throws his head back and laughs while still jogging slowly. I don't quite hear as Johnny and I are still about fifty meters behind them. C'mon, lass - you jump Cap, I'll get Ghost.."

"Jump... wait Johnny - what do you mean...?" Johnny had already shot off and almost caught up to them. I push myself into a sprint and my face splits into a huge smile. Johnny had leapt onto Simon's Ghost's back and bundled them both to the ground. I don't quite know what came over me in the moment. I laugh and leap at John in the same style that Johnny had with Ghost. John huffs as I hit into his back and stays running for a few strides before eventually loosing his balance and falling to the ground. He rolls so that he is underneath me and takes the brunt of the fall. He grunts as his back hits the grass. I can hear Johnny cackling like a madman and then the Captain speaks from underneath me.

"Johnny's bad behavior is rubbing off on you, love.." I blush and look away, only to meet eyes with Kyle, who is smiling brightly at the scene in front of him. I decide to be very brave. I stop laughing along with Johnny and sit back on his lap and reply back playfully "Bad behavior, Sir? It wasn't us who broke our own rule of not cheating.." I trail off, feeling nervous at how he was going to take my response. He goes silent before growling. I freeze momentarily before I feel his warm arms around me. He stands easily holding my weight and drops me off in Kyle's arms. "Cheeky little thing, you are. I'll need to ask Kyle to teach you some manners, you little minx.." My face heats up and I hide in Kyle's shoulder, giggling. I look over to Johnny who is beaming even though he is pinned by the largest Alpha. Christ, the Lieutenant is massive. Something inside of me makes me whimper, thinking that Johnny is in danger. I wriggle slightly and Kyle turns me away from the scene and whispers into my ear "Simon would never hurt any of us.. trust me on that, yeah?" I whine a reply along the lines of 'mmmhmm'.

*John's POV*

Simon and I decide to treat the final run as a leisurely jog. I already knew that the two young Alphas would shoot off like bloody rockets. They always did the same. What I don't expect is for little Y/N to keep pace with Johnny. Yes, she looks like she is struggling slightly, but the girl has guts. She keeps the pace.

Simon grunts at me around half way through, says that we should meet them at the end so that they 'don't get up to any mischief'. Of course, I agree, and nod in the direction of the best short cut. My knees aren't getting any younger, after all.

Simon and I rejoin the outer perimeter, having cut the top loop out. Kyle jogs by and tells us that our cheating isn't going to go down well with Johnny. Simon tells him to 'do one, Garrick' and something about how we aren't all 'failed athletes' like him which forces a laugh to bellow from my mouth. Such a back handed compliment.

The next thing that I do not predict happening is for Johnny to fell Simon like a fuckin' tree - the boy near on rugby tackles the lad. I watch it all happen from the corner of my eye, laughing as Simon hits the deck and Johnny crawls over him. The boy is like a terrier. Insatiable and endlessly energetic. The next thing I don't reckon on happening is for Y/N to creep around my peripheral vision and leap onto my back.

It's a given, she is much lighter that Johnny, but she also carries herself with much more grace. Her 'rugby tackle' method was rather cat-like. I manage to stay upright for a few strides until her leg taps mine, causing me to trip. It was one of those falls when you know you're going down. It gives me time to spin and take the fall so that I don't land on her, or catapult her, face first, into the grass.

I land on my back and stare back up at her happy face while she is draped across my chest, clung like a Koala. Her walls were down in this moment. She is genuinely happy. I have to move heaven and earth to not grab at her. Her scent is rolling off of her - as strong and sweet as I have smelt it. Control yourself, John!

She blushes like crazy at my comment - about how Johnny is rubbing off on her. She then sasses back at me and Christ, I need to get away from her before I do something that will scare her away. But I'm a greedy man. I stand with her, not quite able to release her yet. I drop her off with sweet Kyle. He wouldn't take advantage of her like I would. I cant help myself. I make an overly sexual remark about Kyle teaching her manners. We all know it wouldn't be Kyle who taught her manners. That job is down to Simon and I. Kyle and Y/N blush, I notice that Kyle nuzzles into her neck when she hides her pretty little blush in his shoulder. Cheeky boy couldn't help himself could he?

Something changes in her expression when she looks up to see Simon pinning Johnny. Then, almost within a split second, her scent changes to a sharper, sour scent. She is scared again. Simon notices the change without even looking. I can tell by his body language. He softens his hold on the younger Alpha and leans down to scent him, Johnny laughs and nuzzles all over Simon's mask. I glance to see how Laika reacts but Kyle had already turned her away. Damn it!

When will she ever see the soft side of Simon Riley?

I take a deep breath, to try and calm myself down from the earlier excitement. As an Alpha, I hadn't had a woman - let alone a possible Omega - sitting on top of me for years now. Of course, my body reacted accordingly. Once I've successfully chilled out, I turn and step back towards a smirking Kyle and a happier Y/N.

I push the loose strands of her hair back behind her ears. "C'mon love".

She giggles and apologises for her earlier behavior. "Don't ever say sorry for having fun, love. I enjoyed seeing you like that. Even Simon chuckled at your little sassy comment.." I wiggle my eyebrows. She blushes again and looks down. She really is unsure of Simon.

I'd - We'd - need to rectify that...

- two days later -

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

Darkness, wet, blood, pain, screaming...

Another nightmare. I thought they were getting better. I cannot get myself out of this one, tossing and turning. I can feel the sweat and tears falling from my face. Was that real or just the nightmare?

*Ghost's POV*

A blood curdling scream echoes the hallway at about 1AM. I was sitting in the kitchen with my feet up on the coffee table, reading a book. I stand up immediately and follow my nose to her room. What the fuck am I supposed to do. The others are all asleep, she is fuckin' terrified of me but she is whimpering and crashing about in there. Fuck it. I'm going in. The annoying Alpha voice inside of my brain is screaming to help her. I wish it would shut the fuck up to be honest. It's been louder than ever since the second she turned up.

I bang on the door - no answer. I step into the strange room hesitantly. Stupid girl didn't even lock the door. I know that Alphas shouldn't intrude Omega's nests, but she needed help.

She isn't on the fuckin' bed. She's ran away, heard me fuckin' coming. She is hiding somewhere. Stupid fuckin' bastard - should never have come in here. She probably thinks I'm coming to kill her.

Over the sound of my thoughts, I hear another pained whimper. The cupboard. Don't tell me that she's-

She is in the fuckin' cupboard. In a fuckin' nest. A nest with Johnny and Kyle's clothes and - is that Cap's missing towel? He lost that yesterday..

I find myself staring at the sight inside of the cupboard. Probably for too long, because I'm drawn back to the situation when she starts breathing erratically.

I try to gently tap her arm. She doesn't wake up. I squeeze her arm now, she flinches, but still doesn't wake up.

"Laika.. it's - fuck - it's me.. Ghost... Wake up..." - nothing. Just more thrashing around.

"Fuckin' hell" I grumble. I lower myself so that I am knelt on the floor in the doorway of the open cupboard. I grab her shoulders and shake. It's the only option I have, having tried everything else.

She snaps out of her nightmare with a shriek, slapping and scrabbling at my chest and face. "Fuck girl - it's me.. I'm - I'm tryin to fuckin' help you" - "DON'T TOUCH ME - GET AWAY" she yells at me.

I'd be lying if my heart didn't freeze over when she says that. Such fear in her voice. Fuck it. Only option left. I grab her around the waist and hold her in one arm, flinging her over my shoulder. She is crying and crashing my back with weak, panicked punches. I hardly feel it. Too numb from her words. I march her out of her room and down the hallway. "Pl-please - please don't" she cries. What the fuck did she think I was gonna do to her?!

I reach the door I was looking for and open in, storming in and dumping her on the bed. She clambers quickly away from me, over the limbs of my pack mates. John wakes up abruptly, instantly in defense mode. She flies towards him and clings to his torso as if she fitted there all too perfectly. She is sobbing now. John growls as he blinks away sleep.

"What the fuck, Simon. What've you done..?" He looks between the sobbing mess clung to him, and me. Great, my own fuckin' Alpha thinks I've 'done' something to her.

By now Johnny and Kyle had woken up too. They move to the space between myself and the girl. Were they creating a barrier?! Didn't they trust me..? Of course they don't. You're a monster.

I sigh, feeling broken, and turn to leave the room. Christ knows where to, but I needed to disappear for a while. I'm almost out of the room. I stop when I hear her. "Si-simon..?"

I don't turn. I just face the doorway, still intending to leave.

Then the Captain speaks up "Answer her, Simon.." I sigh again.

"What?" I snap over my shoulder at her. I see her flinch, "I'm - I'm sorry.." she whines "S'fine" I grunt back, still not turning to face her.

"What happened?" Johnny asks. I don't expect to feel his hand in mine, tugging me back toward the bed. "Get off Johnny" I shake his hand away from mine, but ever persistent, he grabs at my hand again. "Si - what happened?" he asks again.

"The girl was havin' a fuckin' nightmare. Heard her screaming from the kitchen. Didn't even wake up when I banged on the door. She was hiding in her fuckin' cupboard. Didn't even lock her door".

"So.. you helped her..?" Kyle asks hesitantly "what else was I 'sposed to do? Fuckin' let her scream the place down all night?" I snap back - ok fair, that was uncalled for. I have my own fair share of nightmares. Those in glass houses 'n all that bullshit....

"S-sorry.. I didn't mean-" - "I said s'fine" I grunt at her. She hides behind John's shoulder now. She's terrified of me.

"Y/N.. what do you want to do..?" Kyle asks her "Don't want to be a-alone again.." she whimpers back at him. He strokes her cheek. Why can't I be gentle like that?

"Alpha.. can - can she stay here for tonight..?" He asks John nervously. I forgot Johnny was still holding my hand, but he squeezes it excitedly when Kyle asks if she can stay.

"Y/N.. would you feel comfortable here..? I give you my word, we will not touch you.. not hurt you..it's your choice.."

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

"Y/N.. would you feel comfortable here..? I give you my word, we will not touch you.. not hurt you..it's your choice.." The captain asks me.. I sniffle into his shoulder. His bare shoulder. "Please.. please, if it's ok - ok with everyone.." I stutter and sniff. "Shhh sweetheart, it's ok.." John reassures me, rubbing my back softly.

He lays me down between him and Kyle. I glance towards Johnny and Ghost. Johnny has finally succeeded in dragging Ghost into the bed. He is as far away from me as he can possibly be on the massive bed. Johnny snuggles up to him and rests his head against Ghost's chest. I can almost see some of the tension leave Ghost's body. I look away and roll to face Kyle. He is already looking at me as I turn around. He smiles softly down at me and whispers "you ok, love?" I nod against the pillow. He motions towards himself and as my eyes meet his motioning hand, I notice that he is also shirtless. Do none of these men wear a shirt to bed?!

I furrow my brows at his gesture "C'mere love, snuggle up to me" he chuckles. "I don't want to be a burden" I sniffle, my face still red and puffy from all of the crying. "Never, now come here" he motions towards himself again. "Gaz.. behave" John warns from his position behind me. "Behaving, sir" - "Better fuckin' be" he grumbles back. His voice was extra gravelly at this time of night. I shuffle towards Kyle and he engulfs me in his arms. He is so warm.. His scent calms me down almost immediately. I push my head so it's resting atop his chest. He slots his chin over the top of my head.

I drift off to sleep, quicker than I had for years. The last thing I feel is a strong, hairy arm wrap around both of us and pull us slightly closer.

#abo dynamics #john mctavish x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle garrick x reader #omega reader #poly 141 #simon riley x reader #task force x reader #kyle gaz garrick

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