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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 3 months

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The Danger Zone (Part 18) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.9k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Angst; Family Drama; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You try to adapt to life without Jake beside you anymore.

Series Master List

Master List

Dear Jake,

You probably haven’t even reached the aircraft carrier yet. You might even still be on the ground in Miramar. But I couldn’t wait. I miss you. You’ve been gone for less than five hours, and I already miss you so much. I'm not saying that to try and make you feel bad, but because it's the only thing on my mind now.

Everyone offered to take me out today to try and distract me, but I declined. I think that I just want some time to myself. I honestly don't even want to get out of bed. Maybe I’ll do some cleaning. Or who knows? Maybe I’m an accomplished knitter who hasn’t discovered her talent yet. Or maybe I’ll bake again. I don’t know.

Also, all of the tee shirts you left behind are now mine. Sorry, it’s just wife rules. You shouldn’t have married me and knocked me up if you didn’t want me to steal your stuff.

I miss you. I love you. And so does our little girl. Come home safe, Lieutenant Commander. That’s an order.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I went back to work today. Everyone tried to talk to me about you and the wedding and everything, but I just wanted to be left alone. Also, my cravings are all over the place now. And half of the stuff seems to make me throw up these days. Luckily, I still have the gum and toothbrush in my desk.

How’s everything? I assumed that you made it to the carrier by now. Or maybe you’re somewhere else entirely.

You know all of those spy movies over romanticize how sexy it is to be waiting at home for your husband to return home from some top secret mission.

It’s not sexy. It’s just annoying.

Here’s a photo of me and my bump. Don’t mind the mess in the background, I’m rearranging the whole apartment. Call it nervous organizing. It'll be cleaned up. Eventually.

She’s been a shy ever since you left. I can still feel her moving around, but even she seems to have realized that you're gone. I think that she just misses you. And I can’t blame her because I miss you too.

I love you, Jake. Come home safely.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I got the package that you bought for me. I hope that you know that if you were here, I would have given you a rerun of that time that we went to that desert concert. The one where you wouldn't remove your hands from my waist for a second. I hope that your big promotion doesn’t change how much you enjoyed it when I tied your hands up back in your truck.

Our daughter’s been moving around like crazy today ever since I played your voice for her. She doesn’t seem to be willing to kick yet, but we’ll get there in time.

I let Emma take me out today. We just took a walk around her neighborhood. Baby girl finally went to bed after that. But knowing her, she’ll wake up just in time for me to go to bed.

Here’s our photo from today. Emma took it. I can’t believe I’m going to get even bigger. You owe me a deep tissue massage on my back when you get home. And I’ll hold you to it.

We love you and miss you, Jake.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I couldn’t take it anymore. I moved in with Mav today. I thought I wanted to be alone, but I was wrong. Being alone with my thoughts just makes me sad and lonely and I don’t want our daughter to bake in that. She needs to inherit your smile and dimples, so I’m making a bigger effort to be happy.

Penny took me to get my nails done today. I got a light pink for our daughter, but now everyone’s assuming that we’re having a girl. I haven’t confirmed it because we didn’t discuss it before you left but don’t be shocked when you come home to a lot of pink.

I also started seriously researching some girl names. I never realized how many people I don’t like until I started trying to name our daughter. And you better speak up if any of the ones that I suggest are ones that have bad meanings to you.

I’m still digging through a whole bunch of lists but there’s such weird ones out there, Jake. And we cannot name our child something that would get us a look from her teachers. Or a stripper name.

I love you. Baby girl is behaving herself, but she misses you.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

To My Beautiful Wife,

I finally got a chance to check my email. We’re settled on the carrier now, but we’ve been doing a lot of drills and long briefings. I'm sorry that I haven't written earlier. Know that the two of you are always on my mind.

I’m glad you got your gift. I tried to record what I could think of for our baby girl. I don’t want her to miss anything. And I don’t want her keeping you up at night. Has she kicked yet? By my count, you’re hitting seven months in a day or two.

Thanks for sending me those photos. I put up one of the two of you from that photo shoot in my plane. Really brightens up the place. But it also reminds me of what I’m missing. Sometimes I have to take it down so I can focus.

I miss you. I miss our little girl. Every day, every hour, every second.

Try to relax. I know that everyone’s probably told you that a thousand times by now, but I don’t want you feeling stressed about me. I’m fine and I'll be home as soon as I can. Please tell me that you didn’t lift anything heavy while you were moving into Mav’s house. Or maybe it's better if you don't tell me.

And you can tell everyone about her. I don’t mind. It’s not like we could keep it a secret for much longer anyways. But make sure to mention that I was right.

And you have to tell me the worst names that you've seen on these lists. I left a list of baby names I liked in my nightstand. I'd research them when I couldn't sleep at night.

I love you and I love our daughter. I’ll try to be home soon.

Your Husband,

Jake

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I had my seven month appointment today. Baby girl is healthy and still measuring a little small. But her heartbeat is strong and I can tell that she’s going to be stubborn coming out. The doctor says that it’s only a matter of time before she starts kicking.

I hope that the ocean isn’t too rough and you can see the stars. I remember when Mav and I spent a month in Hawaii when I was a teenager. We saw the most beautiful stars there. What if we picked a star name for our daughter? Not Stella, though. That was our dog's name growing up and I can't name my daughter after a dog.

I didn’t lift anything. Mav wouldn’t let me. And neither would Bradley. They’re watching me like hawks these days. And no, I didn’t mean that as a bird joke. Also, I can’t name our daughter after a bird. I’m trying to end the family streak of joke names.

Mckeighleigh was the most ridiculous looking name I’ve seen so far. And we’re not naming our daughter Precious either. Or worse, Chastity. I don’t know how those nurses keep a straight face when they hear those names.

And your recording telling her to go to bed has come in handy lately. Though I did warn her that we’ll be discussing the fact that she only seems to listen to you about that when she comes out.

I love you so much Jake. You’ll be home soon, I know it. And we’ll be waiting for you when you do.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I can't fall asleep, so I’m writing to you instead. And no, it wasn’t our baby girl who kept me up. I’ve had the worst heartburn these days. And Tums don’t do shit. They say that means that our daughter will come out with a full head of hair. I say that I'd take a bald baby in exchange for better sleep.

My baby shower is in a few days. Next weekend. Emma and Phoenix said that it was going to be relatively small, and I hope that they stick to it. I’m not really in the mood to see a lot of people anymore.

I yelled at Bradley the other day for making an omelet with three eggs because he left an egg in the carton without a 'friend' because he left an egg alone in its row since there was an odd number of eggs. Apparently, I kept crying about it for a while, but in all honesty, I don’t really remember much of that conversation. I’m pretty sure that Bradley’s keeping his distance now. You probably would have enjoyed seeing his face.

I asked for a little box at my baby shower to put name suggestions in. I’m running out of ideas. I keep worrying that we’re going to name her something stupid.

Baby girl is growing bigger, and I can’t believe that I’m still going to get fatter. I’m struggling to grab things off of the floor now. Maverick got me one of those grabby things that old people use. You would probably find it hilarious.

I love you. I miss you. I’ll write to you tomorrow.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

“Thank you,” you told Emma as she handed you a lemonade.

Emma and Penny took you out for the day to spend some time out of Mav’s house. You were growing increasingly less interested in leaving your 'nest,' as Bradley nicknamed it, and they were trying their best to get you motivated to go out and continue to live your life.

You had done some shopping for a dress to wear to your baby shower and now the three of you were getting a snack before you’d head over to the Hard Deck for the rest of the afternoon. You chatted for a moment before you sighed, slowly got to your feet, and grabbed your purse from your chair.

“Bathroom?” Emma asked you.

“Where else?” you joked, walking off.

A few minutes later, as you were washing your hands at the sink, you looked up when another woman stepped inside the bathroom. You offered her a friendly smile before her familiarity suddenly struck you. Quickly drying your hands, you reached for your bag and turned to leave. But the woman stood directly in your path.

She had stripes of gray cutting through what appeared to be deep auburn hair. She carried herself with a sense of purpose. And an expensive handbag. She reminded you of some of the women you used to see at the country club that you worked at in college. The type who turned a blind eye when their pig husbands made some demeaning comment to the women on staff and were never seen without some kind of drink in their perfectly manicured hands.

“You know who I am?” Georgia Seresin asked softly.

You stared her down, gripping the strap of you bag tightly. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, and you could practically feel the rhythm in your ears. Taking a breath and releasing it, you tilted your chin up and narrowed your eyes at her.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded quietly, looking around the small public bathroom. No one else was in there except for the two of you. “Are you stalking me?”

“I came to California when my son didn’t respond to my letter.”

“I wonder why?” you wondered sarcastically.

“What did he tell you?”

“Everything,” you stated firmly. “Which is why I would appreciate it if you stopped acting like it was just a coincidence that you ran into me here, hundreds of miles from your home, when Jake is conveniently deployed.” You paused for a moment before repeating through gritted teeth, “Why are you here?”

“To talk to you. About my son.”

“What about your son?”

“I know that your child isn’t here yet, but when they’re born, perhaps you can understand how much pain it could cause a mother to miss out on their child’s wedding or the process of them expecting their first child. From a mother to a mother—”

“—I’m going to stop you right there.”

You tried to keep your tears of anger in as you thought about Jake’s expression when he told you about his childhood. When you thought about the pain that you could hear in his tone, that you could feel radiating off of him.

“Because a woman who calls herself a mother would never do the things that you did. You stole him from a poor girl who loved him. You lied to her, promising that you would take care of him and love him. And then you turned around and fed him to the wolves." Nostrils flaring and angry tears threatening to fall, you added, "Did you ever even tell him that you loved him?"

“Of course, we did,” she admonished.

“Did you? Did you tell him that you were proud of him? That you loved him no matter what happened?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice even. “Every night my mom told me that she loved me and that she was proud of me. How many times did you tell Jake that, Georgia? How is a child supposed to just know that if you don’t tell them?” Shaking your head as you let out a shaky breath, you turned back to her. “And just so you know, there won’t be a day where Jake doesn’t tell our child that he loves them. Not one.”

Georgia adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and pursed her lips together. Clearly, she wasn’t used to being spoken to in this manner, but you didn’t give a shit about her feelings.

“Did you come here to convince me to talk Jake into speaking to you again? To buy my baby from me? A combination of the two? Does your husband know that you’re here? Is he waiting outside?”

Georgia took another moment to compose herself from your questions. She glanced down at the rings on your finger before meeting your gaze again.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that Jake selected a woman as . . . outspoken as you,” Georgia stated, adjusting her handbag again. “No, my husband does not know that I’m here. And I’m not here to buy my grandchild. I’m here to try and get through to my son and I’ve realized that the best way to do that would be through you. The woman he married and is having a child of his own with.”

Your eyes flashed with annoyance at Georgia's words.

“I have no interest in having a relationship with you because Jake doesn’t have an interest in it.”

“There’s nothing I can do to persuade you to speak with him about me?” Georgia pressed, an edge of desperation in her tone.

“No, there’s not.”

“You would deny your child a set of grandparents?”

“I will protect my child from people who hurt their father.”

Forcing yourself to take a breath, you stared down Georgia for a moment. She looked far more pathetic than you knew she was comfortable with. Apparently, she thought that she would just waltz in, and you would agree with her without any pushback.

But she couldn't have been more wrong.

“You know, when Jake told me about his upbringing, I honestly felt a bit of sympathy for you, Georgia. Maybe you were convinced that being a rich housewife to a pathetic little man was a better life than being loved by a poor man. And I’m sure that your husband hasn’t been kind to you over the years.”

The rage flashed to the surface again as she turned away from you for a moment.

“But how could you look another woman in the eye and convince her to hand over an innocent baby to a man that you knew would be a horrible father? That you knew would hurt that baby?”

After a moment, you walked past Georgia, who did not move to block your path this time. You opened the door and strode out of there and you didn't dare look back. Trying to gather yourself, you looked up to see Emma and Penny a few steps away from you.

“Are you okay? We were getting worried," Emma questioned with clear concern.

“Fine. Let’s get going to the Hard Deck,” you stated, already turning towards the parking lot.

“What happened?” Penny asked, studying your expression. You didn’t reply and just kept marching towards the parking lot until Penny rested a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to slow down. “You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

“Jake’s mom walked into the bathroom,” you explained quietly, looking over your shoulder.

“What?"

“She knew where you were?” Penny asked urgently, looking around with a protective stare. Wrapping her arm around your shoulders, she encouraged you forward again. “Come on, let’s get going.”

~~~~~

Maverick’s face darkened after you finished with your explanation about what happened at the mall. Grabbing his phone, he got up from the table with a serious expression.

“I’m going to make a call,” he stated firmly. “They can’t stalk you and your child. I don’t care who the hell that they think they are in Texas. That’s not going to fly out here. That’s not going to continue.”

“Who are you calling?” you asked as Maverick walked off.

“An old contact. I’ll be right back.”

Penny told you to just let Mav make the call as the remaining four of you remained seated at the table. You twisted your engagement ring around your finger nervously, sharing a look with Emma and Bradley, who sat across from you.

“She didn’t try to hurt me—”

“—Doesn’t matter,” Bradley interjected quickly. “It’s creepy and it’s over the line and it’s going to stop. Now. Just let Mav make his call. He'll handle it.”

“I know,” you sighed, holding your head in your hands. “Jake is going to freak out when I tell him.”

“You’re going to tell him right away?”

“I can’t hide it from him. It might take me some time to find the words, but I have to tell him.”

Penny hugged you to her side and rubbed your back with her hand, giving you the maternal support that you really needed in that moment. You sighed and leaned against her, desperately wishing that Jake would be home soon.

“Everything will be alright. We’re going to figure this out.”

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

I hope that everything is running smoothly where you are. And that you read this email sooner rather than later.

Penny and Emma took me to the shops yesterday and when I was trying to leave the bathroom, I ran into your mother. She came up from Texas and she told me that she wanted to talk to me about you. Said something about using me to convince you to talk to her again. I told her that I wasn’t interested in that because you weren’t interested in that. She let me leave after that.

I don’t want to stress you out or make you feel like you have to do anything when you’re so far away, but I wanted to be honest with you. Mav’s made a few calls and he seems to think that he has a solution. Don’t stress about us, just focus on your mission and coming home safely in one piece.

We love you, Jake. And we’re safe, we’re fine. And we miss you.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

Folding some fresh laundry in Maverick's house a few days later, you looked up when you heard your phone buzz. An unknown number was calling you and despite your hesitation, you answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Honey.”

“Jake?” you whispered out shakily, holding a hand to your mouth. Moving to sit, you tried to calm yourself down and not just simply sob. “How are you calling me?”

“I have my ways,” Jake replied teasingly. Growing more serious, he asked, “Are you alright?”

“We’re fine, Jake.”

“I’m so sorry, Honey. She never should have been anywhere near the two of you.”

“We’re fine,” you repeated softly. “She didn’t threaten us. If anyone was threatening anyone, it was me.”

“That’s my wife,” Jake praised, causing you to smile bashfully. “But my father wasn’t there, right? It was just my mother?”

“Yeah. She said that he didn’t know that she was there, and I didn’t see him around.”

“Good. I’ll deal with them when I get home.”

“Okay.” After a moment you asked, “How much longer do you have?”

“Less than a minute. I’m sorry, Honey, I just needed to know that the two of you were okay. They thought that I was having some kind of stroke when I read your email and I managed to convince them to let me call you.”

“At least one good thing came out of the whole shitshow,” you sighed, resting a hand on your bump. “I love—”

You froze when you felt your daughter press her foot against your hand. Jake felt his heart leap into his throat when you cut yourself off and stop talking without a clear reason.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“She’s kicking,” you whispered softly.

“What?”

“Jake, she’s kicking. Our daughter is kicking!”

“She’s kicking?”

“Yes, she’s kicking,” you laughed, before your joy dimmed and tears pooled in your eyelids. Sniffling, you croaked out, “I love you so much, Jake. We love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I miss you so fucking much, Honey. And I’m so sorry that I’m not there.”

“Hangman, time’s up,” Jake heard from behind him, causing him to look over his shoulder.

“I’ve got to go, Honey,” he replied, grinding his jaw to try and stave off the tears. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Bye, Jake.”

The line went dead, and you slowly placed your phone down. Holding your hand to your mouth, you finally let out your sobs. And about a thousand emotions that you'd tried keeping in ever since Jake was forced to leave you.

Your daughter was finally kicking, but her father wasn’t here to feel her. And the thought only made you sob harder.

Back on the carrier, Jake rubbed the tears that leaked from his eyes.

He missed it. He fucking missed it. He missed his daughter kicking for the first time. He wasn’t there when his mother showed up out of nowhere and accosted you in a public bathroom. He wasn’t going to be there for your baby shower.

Jake had anticipated that deploying while you were heavily pregnant was going to be difficult. But he didn’t realize that it was going to be impossible, killing him slowly from the inside out.

“Hangman?”

“I’m coming,” Jake called back, clearing his throat. “I’m coming.”

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gremlins-hotel · 1 year

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From the notes of Capt. Alfred Jones: "Davie was a bus and the 'Flying Fortress' moniker seemed to pass her by, but it was a ship with a brave crew. The trudge of getting back to England from enemy territory is a story for another day. I miss her and sometimes I miss the boys we lost that day."

-✪- -✪- -✪-

B-17F "Dear Davie": *U.S. Army Model B-17F-65-BO Air Corps Serial No. 42-29670 Delivered Cheyenne 31/1/43; Pueblo 18/2/43; Salina 15/2/43; Brookley 19/3/43; Smoky Hill 23/3/43; Dow Field 18/4/43. Assigned to the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group [TS-L] "DEAR DAVIE" 22/4/43; Missing in Action near Hamburg 25/7/43 with Alfred "Comet" Jones, **Co-Pilot: Daryl "Speed" Reed, Navigator: Richard Reed, Bombardier: Charlie Marstaller; Radio Operator: Johnathan Graves, Flight Engineer/Top Turret Gunner: Clyde "Pepsi" Ray, Ball Turret Gunner: William Ortlieb, Waist Gunner: Leslie Lipsey, Waist Gunner: Paul Rapoport, Tail Gunner: Thomas Pugh (6 Killed in Action); "DEAR DAVIE" lost to flak/anti-aircraft fire, crashing near Uetersen, 15 miles NW of Hamburg, Germany.

-✪- -✪- -✪-

[nerd things & acknowledgements below cut]

Notes on the B-17F... The B-17F was an upgrade of the previous E model, with several notable changes: A one- or two-piece plexiglas nose cone, as opposed to the ten-paneled cone of previous versions. Reinforced landing gear allowed for a greater maximum payload, from 4,200 lb (1,900 kg) of ordnance to 8,000 lb (3,600 kg). Flight and combat range of the F model was improved by 900 mi (1,400 km) with the addition of nine self-sealing rubber fuel cells in the wing root, aka, "Tokyo tanks". The F model was generally characterized by being tail-heavy - which lead to part failure - and woefully undefended from the front; the early F models had no front-facing armament, leaving a 60° blind spot to the direct front of the aircraft - a flaw which was exploited by German pilots, who held air superiority. Later F models would see a list of possible available modifications (factory and field) such as inserting two .50 caliber machine guns into the nose cone to solve the blind spot. Other modifications to later F models were bulged cheek turrets, as opposed to the window-mounted guns of earlier iterations, and the available addition of the iconic "Bendix" chin turret. The chin turret is far more common on the subsequent G "gunship" variant. ("Dear Davie" is an early F model without the nose mount, bulged cheeks, or chin turret.)

*This model production block, serial no., and fate are borrowed from real-life B-17F #42-29670, "Thundermug." "Thundermug" was an aircraft that originally served in the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group alongside my great-grandfather and his usual steed, "The Gremlins Hotel." It was transferred to the 544th BS/384th BG, at which point it went Missing in Action over Hamburg from flak/aa-fire; 8 of its crew became POWs while 2 were KIA. I have had the honor to speak to descendants of both of its crews and help them research "Thundermug"; I wish to voice a mere glimpse of their stories in a unique way.

**All names of Alfred's crew are either cobbled-together family names throughout our history here or entirely fictitious - though some were inspired by real people whom I grew up with stories of. All inspirations were individuals that lived good lives post-war.

#alpha romeo tango #gremlin's things with wings #alfred f. jones // daring to fly #hetalia #historical hetalia #hetalia headcanons #aph america #hws america #alfred f jones #hey guys crucify me if you must #i'm really proud of this drawing #but i also understand it's pretty nerdy and the headcanon does deal with something a little tragic #but i'm hurling this to tumblr motherless and fatherless for your judgment #this took a few hours haha #love you guys for real #i really love bombers guys sorry for being autistic on main

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f10werfae · 1 year

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Daddy’s Princess Fairy

pairing: Husband!Dad!Sy x Wife!Mom!Reader

summary: Sy comes home to his newborn babygirl and wife after his last ever deployment, and he’s desperate to meet his tiny twin, and get into his wife’s panties (Dilf Sy) likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Daddy’s nearly home booboo, he’ll be out here any second now” Y/n cooed bouncing her baby girl in her arms, the two month old softly snuggled against her mama, the both of them waiting at the entrance of the military base along with the other families. Her eyes tracing each body that left the aircraft, her breath hitching when she saw her big hunk of a man step out, his head shaven but his beard grown rough and long. God he looked filthy but so sexy.

Biting her lip she saw him take off his dark sunglasses as he scanned the crowd carefully, his lips pulling into a smirk once he saw his baby momma waiting at the back, away from the crowd; holding his baby girl. Practically skipping all the steps he threw his bag to the ground, his built arms bringing his wife and newborn into his arms, this was his first time home since that night their daughter was conceived. That one special night by the fireplace.

“Fuck pumpkin, missed ya n’ your sweet self s’much” He grumbled inhaling her scent deeply as he grazed his nose up and down her cheek, his other hand cupping his daughter’s head, this would be the first time he would see her in person. “And this- this is Penelope, Penelope Syverson” Y/n giggled holding up Penelope up to Sy, and even he could see she already was his twin, the same grouchy look already.

“She’s stinkin’ adorable, i’d say jus’ like her momma but i’m seein’ frowns on her already” Sy chuckled seeing his babygirl whimper and wiggle, leading Y/n to place the tiny babe into his arms, and just the mere size difference between the father and daughter was enough to make a witch’s heart melt. “She missed you, anytime you wasn’t on the phone she’d cry and whimper until I played your voicemail” Y/n explained tucking Penelope’s bib a bit more, seeing how she was drooling onto her daddy’s arm.

“Awk babygirl you break ma heart, m’not leavin’ again, I can’t do it- that’s me done” Sy chuckled bending down and kissing her forehead, breathing out a sigh of relief, he was finally discharged and able to start the rest of his life. “Damn right you aren’t leavin’, we still need to give our bubby a brother” Giggling Y/n latched herself onto his arm, the happy family walking towards the pickup truck waiting for them; Y/n watched on as Sy carefully put his pride and joy into her carseat, pouting up at Y/n when he realised Penelope wouldn’t let go of his finger.

“Babe, jus pull your finger out come on” Y/n laughed as he shook his head, “no can do sugar, don’t want my babygirl thinkin’ am leavin’ her again, can’t be her first heartbreak”

“If ya let go i’ll give ya some of your treat when we get home, after I put Pen down for her nap” It hadn’t even been two seconds but Sy carefully pulled his finger out, kissed his baby bye bye, and jogged over to the driver’s side of the pickup truck. “Now ya gotta keep your promise, wait- are you even okay down ‘er” Sy questioned looking concerned down at her crotch, he knew how hard the healing process was for his wife, needing stitches and medication. It honestly broke his heart that she had to go through it alone, but she was strong and independent, just his typa woman.

“Yup! Doctor gave me the green light a while ago, jus wanted to surprise ya for when you got home, Captain Syverson” Y/n winked grabbing a handful of his thigh tightly, his eyes widening and smacking her hand off, “Jesus woman didn’t ya read the sticker on the car? There’s a baby on board” He joked intertwining their hands and kissing her knuckles, leaning forward and pressing a heated kiss to her lips, his beard scratching her face in the best way possible. His tongue venturing out to lick over hers, tasting his favourite watermelon lipbalm causing him to groan into their kiss.

“Forgot how much I missed these luscious lips of yours” He growled pulling away, kissing her lips once more before sitting back in his seat to look at her, his wife. “Yeah? What else did ya miss” She giggled leaning over and pulling him back towards her, both her hands holding onto his as she looked up at him, her fingers then playing mindlessly with the wedding ring on the chain around his neck.

“These other lips down ‘ere” Laughing his hands smoothed up her thighs, settling under her dress, right on top of her panties waistband; he could already feel that it was those cotton white ones that he had a thing for. She just knows him so well. “No you didn’t”

“I did” She winked pulling up her skirt enough to show the start of the soft cotton pants, pulling the skirt down fast enough once his fingers tried their way up again. “Nuh uh mister, only when the angel is bed do we get to play” She scolded turning the ignition on for him, watching as he scoffed and turned his attention to the road

“Alright princess fairy queen, ah need ya to get to sleep pronto” Sy whispered into his baby’s tiny ears, the tiny tot sleeping on his bare chest, her head nestled comfortably on the curls on his chest. Her tiny fist clutched peacefully as tiny gurgles and coos came out every time she hiccuped or moved. “Princess fairy queen? Really Sy?” He heard his wife ask from the nursery door, clad in her white silk robe, very clearly not wearing anything underneath.

“I need my little girl to know she’s the best of ‘em all, n’ that means callin’ her every nickname on God’s Earth so she knows how much ah love her” Looking down at his tiny tot, he felt the need to lean down and nuzzle his nose with hers, pulling away instantly when he heard a toot. A fart.

“Now was that from me or you?” Sy frowned holding her up to face him, her tiny eyes clearly shocked, her own farts had woken her up just from how loud it was; “Tell ya what bubby, you’re definitely your daddy’s daughter”

“Yeah there’s now way that loud thing came outta this tiny precious sugar cube” Sy questioned seeing the tired girl had gone to sleep in his arms again, thankfully for Sy’s sake she didn’t need changed, well not yet anyway.

It finally seemed like baby Penelope finally got the memo when she finally stayed asleep in her bassinet, after 20 minutes of him just whispering pointless happy memories of him and her momma, many soft baby back rubs and head scratches and of course with her binky in place. Princess Penelope was down for her nap. Now Sy could have his wife, any way he darn wanted.

“Momma, you spoil me too much” Walking into their shared bedroom Sy saw his wife, her robe untied as she laid on the bed waiting for him, a chocolate covered strawberry already in her mouth as she winked at him, her legs spread open showing off her glistening folds; she needed him as much as he needed her.

“Irish twins?” Y/n asked plucking the strawberry from her mouth, licking its juices from her lips as she quirked up a brow; Sy doing nothing but growl and rush to get rid of his white t-shirt and cargo pants. “I’d give ya irish triplets if it were possible” He snarked climbing on top of her, his body hovering over hers as he bit into the strawberry that was back in between her lips, his teeth squeezing the juice down the valley of her tits. His delicious welcome home treat, just for him to enjoy.

———

PSA:Hope you all enjoy this bit of Daddy Sy 😗

Library blog of works: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, please use library)

@pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25

See you all again very soon xoxo

- Fae

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x wife!reader #captain sy x reader #captain sy x wife!reader #dad!sy #henry cavill fluff #captain sy #captain sy fanfiction #captain syverson #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill x y/n #sy x reader #syverson x reader #syverson fluff #syverson x you

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Batting Practice Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realizes why you started running hot and then cold with him. He makes sure he remedies the situation with you.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing (eventually 18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley was counting down the minutes until he could leave work on Monday. The sporadic, slightly flirtatious texts between you and him Saturday night and all day Sunday were driving him wild.

He couldn't fucking wait to see you. He kept imagining how you would react to him in person now, especially after what you texted him this morning.

You should wear your hat backwards later today. That looked good on you.

Really, nothing about that was dirty, but it seemed to have that type of effect on him. Plus it meant that you were thinking about him, which left him grinning.

"Rooster, look alive, man," Jake told him, slapping him in the chest with a copy of the newest F/A-18 flight manual. Bradley grunted as the massive book made contact, and he glared at Jake. "What's got you distracted? Excited about all the MILFs you're going to see later? I wish Bob had asked me to coach with him."

Bradley just shook his head. "Moms aren't my type. Too complicated." He just wished he still believed himself when he said it.

Then he settled into the seat next to Nat, ready for a long lecture about his aircraft, his imagination drifted to you. He imagined the three of you at the Phillies game, all in matching backwards hats. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd like the way you looked with a hat that way, too.

Maverick's voice droned on in the background, and Bradley was pretty sure the information he was giving would be useful to know, so he forced his mind back to the present.

Once they were all dismissed, Bradley headed to the locker room to change out of his khaki uniform. When he glanced over at Bob, he chuckled.

"You know, we could wear our uniforms to practice one day. Drive the moms wild," Bradley said as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Bob just shook his head. "None of them know I'm in the Navy, and I don't plan on telling them."

"Oh," Bradley said as he unzipped his pants. "I did tell one of them that we're aviators."

Bob laughed lightly. "Let me guess, Everett's mom?"

Bradley decided not to reply. He just shrugged and pulled on his Tiny Eagles tee shirt and gym shorts. Then he pulled his worn out Phillies cap onto his head. Backwards.

"I'll see you over at the ballfield," he told Bob as he exited the locker room and headed for the Bronco.

There was just something about you. Yeah, you were pretty. But lots of women were pretty. Yeah, he liked the way your body looked. But the female form was something that never failed to get him going.

He wanted to flirt with you. He wanted to make you warm. He wanted to wear his ratty, old Phillies hat the way you liked it. Which was just a terrible idea, since dating a mom was not on his agenda. Even sleeping with someone who came with baggage was something he avoided at all costs, whenever he could.

Bradley mentally scolded himself for even briefly believing that a sweet kid like Everett could be considered baggage. He wasn't quite that shallow. But he liked his life simple.

Perhaps he should have kept the phone number of that woman from the bar.

He coasted into his usual parking spot and made his way toward the ballfield. He stretched and ran the bases a few times, basking in the early evening sunlight. When Bob arrived, they tossed a ball back and forth for a few minutes until the kids started to arrive.

"You miss playing," Bob said with a smile. "Why don't you play with the officers rec league?"

Bradley shrugged after he threw the ball to Bob one last time and removed his glove. "Because, no offense, but they suck."

Bob laughed loudly. "I resent that! I play center field!"

Bradley just grinned. "I know you do. Listen, I wanted to play pro ball until I was twenty-one years old. And while I love being an aviator, I am still good at baseball."

"Coach Bradley!" called Everett as he came streaking across the field.

"Hey, kiddo. You get lots of rest over the weekend? Ready to play?" he asked the kid, tugging down the bill of his cap and making him laugh.

But then Bradley saw you.

Okay, this was a problem. The whole text thread between the two of you was playing in his mind now as he watched you walk across the grass, hopping on one foot as you changed out of your high heels as you went. You were wearing a plain gray suit and trying to talk on the phone while you juggled your shoes and Everett's gear bag.

You looked complicated as hell at the moment. This was a problem, because Bradley's mind was telling him he suddenly liked complicated.

"Start warming up with Coach Bob," Bradley told Everett as he patted him on the head. That same warm sunlight that had felt so perfect on Bradley's skin was illuminating your face and hair, and he was already looking at you when he saw your eyes catch on him.

"I need to go, Frank. We can figure it out later," you said, pulling your phone away from your ear and ending the call.

"Hi." Bradley's voice was laced with everything he really wanted to say to you in person but didn't think he should.

"Coach," you replied softly, your long lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you closed your eyes for a beat.

"You give any more thought to the merits of sitting behind home plate versus sitting in the outfield?" Bradley asked softly, just for you to hear.

The way your lips parted wordlessly as you played with your hair had him grinning. You crinkled up your nose in that way he already loved as you looked down at the field. "Are you really serious about going to the game with Ev and I?"

He wasn't actually completely sure before this moment, but now he was. "Yeah. Of course I'm serious. Should I ask Everett where he wants to sit? Since you don't seem to care? And since I'll have an equally good view of you from any seat?"

This time when you raised your eyes to meet his, he could feel them examine every inch of his chest and arms and the scars along his neck. Your gaze didn't move from his mouth as you whispered, "You're making me flustered." Then your eyes met his, and Bradley could feel your hesitation that wasn't evident through texting.

"I'd love to be responsible for that. You look cute when you're flustered."

Your eyes went wide as you muttered, "And you look cute with your hat like that."

The sound of Bob's whistle had both of you jumping so that you almost collided. Bradley could hear you mutter, "Oh shit," as you pressed your hand to your forehead and turned away from him to find a seat on the bleachers. And try as he may, he couldn't seem to catch your eye at all during practice.

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

You were embarrassed. Coach Bradley and all of his flirty text messages were making you silly.

He really seemed to want to take you and Ev to a baseball game. He had told you twice that the best seat in the house would be one where he was looking at you.

Nothing was ever going to be that easy for you though. As soon as Everett spent a Sunday afternoon watching baseball and eating ice cream with his coach, he was going to want that to happen all the time.

You were afraid you were going to want it all the time too. You were so attracted to Bradley. The way he flirted with you was subtle and yet intentional, and it left you craving more from him already.

How much was he willing to give? How available was he? How available were you? Frank wanted to get together with you again this week, but you didn't know if you'd be able to get a sitter for Everett. You didn't know if you wanted to see Frank outside of work anymore either.

But you could imagine sitting at Petco Park eating nachos and drinking a beer with Bradley while Ev ate ice cream out of a tiny plastic helmet.

"Fuck," you groaned, forcing your attention to remain on Everett even though you could practically feel Bradley's eyes on you.

Everett was better at tee ball than you had expected him to be. He managed to hit the ball over Bob's head pretty consistently, and you cheered for him when he turned and looked toward you. This is what he needed; an outlet for all of this energy and some male role models.

When practice ended and Bob announced that each child could come up and get their jersey for Saturday's game against the Tiny Hawks, Everett was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Mommy, I get a jersey just like the ones the coaches wear!"

You chuckled and kissed his cheek. "You sure do. Listen for your name."

When Bradley called his name, Everett went sprinting up to get his jersey, and you watched Bradley help him put it on over his shirt. Then he sprinted back to you and hugged you around your middle.

"Let's get going, sweetie. You must be hungry," you said, tossing his equipment into the bag, trying to make a hasty exit. You didn't want to continue your conversation with Bradley, because you were so mixed up at the moment.

And that's when you heard him talking to Henry's mom.

"Coach Bradley. I was hoping we could exchange phone numbers, just in case you ever needed any extra help with anything."

"Uh, sure, Sandra. Our Team Mom probably has everything under control, but what's your number?"

You shoved Everett's cleats into the bag and rushed him through getting his sneakers on. And all the while you heard Sandra offering her help with anything he might need. The worst part was the way she was rubbing Bradley's arm when you decided to glance in their direction.

"Let's go," you told Everett, ready to make a run for your car. How embarrassing! You'd flirted with your kid's tee ball coach over text all weekend, and now he was lining up Sandra, who was of course fucking gorgeous.

Gross. You felt jealous. You never felt jealous. Danny had been cheating on you for the last year or so of your marriage, and you'd never felt this way! You'd been mostly content knowing that you had Everett to make it all worth it.

So this felt wrong. The cold envious feeling seeping under your skin. Just wrong.

The two of you almost made it to your car, and of course, like an idiot, you had parked next to the Bronco again.

"Hey!" Bradley called, closing the distance as he jogged up. "I didn't get to say goodbye." He high fived Everett next to your car, and then you ushered Ev into the backseat.

"So, I'll see you on Thursday?" Bradley asked, ducking his head a little bit, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

"Yes," you told him, grasping your door handle. But he only let it swing open a few inches before he caught it in his massive hand.

"What's wrong?" he asked you softly.

You sighed and met his eyes. "I thought we originally exchanged numbers just to talk about team business."

Bradley cocked his head to the side. "Yeah... we can make it just team business, if you want. But I obviously wanted you to be the Team Mom. And I was kind of enjoying the more...personal chit chat."

You scoffed. "I get it. I do. But if you want to exchange numbers and have personal chit chat with all of the moms who are clearly interested in you, then maybe you and I should keep it businesslike."

When you wrenched the door open another foot, he didn't stop you this time. But he still gently closed it for you.

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

The next morning, you felt a lot better. Bradley hadn't texted you, and you weren't about to text him. It was honestly better this way. He could flirt with Sandra as much as he wanted to, and now you didn't have to worry about anything except whatever was strictly required of the Team Mom.

When Frank knocked on your door at lunchtime, you had just finished up a project. So you let him come in, and soon he was kissing you. It felt pretty good, so you let him unbutton your shirt as well.

"Baby, how about a quickie?" he whispered next to your ear before kissing your neck.

That didn't sound too bad. Now that you had rid your system of yearning for Coach Bradley.

"Okay," you whispered when he started kissing the tops of your breasts and caressing your sides. You unzipped your suit pants and slid them down your hips along with your underwear while Frank pulled a condom out of his wallet and locked your door.

Bent over your desk with your cheek pressed to the smooth wood surface, you let your eyes drift closed. And that was a big mistake. Because it was too easy to imagine a backward cap, a mustache and a deep, raspy voice in your ear.

You felt him slide inside you, stretching your pussy in the process. It felt so much better than it usually did, you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan. Then he was moving, and you could practically smell sweat, spicy deodorant, and the freshly watered grass of the infield. Is this how it would feel to be bent over the wooden bleachers and fucked by Bradley? His mustache grazing the back of your neck as he whispered those flirtatious text messages to you?

Hands gripped your hips, squeezing you tight as your pussy was filled over and over. He would love taking you from the back like this, quick and dirty. Unrelenting.

You were gasping now, your lungs tight with each breath as you imagined his voice. You look cute when you're flustered.

"Oh," you groaned, and the pressure increased bit by bit. "Oh!"

He'd fuck you so good. He'd take care of everything you wanted. He'd press his mustache to your pussy, rubbing you until you cried. He'd finger you while he drove you around in his Bronco. You could picture it all so clearly. Feel it seamlessly.

Legs shaking, you fucked yourself back against him, wanting as much pressure as you could get. Then you felt it, and you knew it was going to be good. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, and you lifted your head off your desk, suddenly alert.

You were with Frank. You were coming so fucking hard on Frank's dick while you thought about another man.

"Oh! Fuck! Ohhhh," you moaned, completely shocked, totally stunned. It felt like you had been with Bradley. And now you were conscious of all the noises Frank was making as he blew his load into the condom.

You stood with your back to him and quickly started to get your clothes in order with shaking hands.

"Sounded like you really enjoyed that, baby," Frank said, and you could hear the smug smile in his voice.

Hell yes, you had enjoyed it, but not because of him.

"I have a lot of work to do," you muttered, rubbing your hands along your burning hot neck.

"Let's do this again later this week," Frank told you, kissing your cheek before he left.

You dropped into your seat and spent the entire afternoon thinking about what you had done.

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

It took Bradley until Tuesday to realize what he had done wrong. You must have heard or seen Sandra with him. Fuck. He was just trying to be as accommodating as he could without telling Henry's mom to back off; he'd have to see her multiple times per week for eight more weeks!

But you'd gone from a simmering warmth with him to frosty cold on a dime. And that must have been why.

He didn't know how to make it up to you, and he didn't want to text you since you'd told him no more personal talk.

So he waited until Thursday at practice. When you pulled into the parking lot, you avoided the spot next to his Bronco. And you and Everett stayed in your car until practice was about to start, hustling across the grass at the last possible minute.

You were not going to make this easy for him.

Everett came running over to join the rest of the team just as Bob was dividing the kids into two groups. But Bradley could only focus on you. Your hair was swept up today, exposing your graceful neck, and you were wearing a black pencil skirt with a tight blouse tucked into it. You seem to have forgotten your beat up sneakers today, because you were walking around the field on tiptoes so your heels wouldn't get ruined.

You looked smoking hot, and you were not sparing a single glance in his direction.

"Bradley!" Bob called. "Focus."

"Right, sorry," Bradley replied, reluctantly taking his spot behind home plate where he couldn't spend the next hour looking at you.

He watched the kids go through the batting order, and then had them start practicing in the field. They were actually pretty good, and Bob was always such a calm presence that they responded really well to him. Bradley thought they would do well against the Tiny Hawks in two days.

Once the kids were dismissed, Bradley followed Everett to the bleachers, and on the way he asked, "Is it cool if I walk you and your mom to the car again, kiddo?"

"Yeah! My mom would like that too!"

Bradley wasn't so sure, but now at least he had his in with you.

"Hi," you said as Bradley approached, and he watched you kneel down in that tight skirt, his mind going to the filthiest places imaginable. If you turned and looked at him over his shoulder, he would probably end up embarrassing himself.

"Hi," he rasped, pressing his lips together as you helped your son change his shoes. "Everett said it would be cool if I walked with you two up to the parking lot."

"Whatever," you said without looking at him. So Bradley walked up with Everett between you and him as usual.

"What do you do in the Navy?" the kid asked him.

"I fly airplanes," Bradley told him. "And I wear all these cool pins so people know I'm a Lieutenant."

"What's a loo-tent?" Everett asked, and Bradley saw you trying to hide your grin.

"Nothing, really. It's just a fancy word for someone who still has to salute to pretty much everybody else."

Now you were biting your lip as Everett tried to pronounce Bradley's rank over and over again until the three of you reached your car. Bradley opened the back door and placed the gear back on the floor as Everett scampered in, but then he put a firm hand against the driver's door so you couldn't open it.

"Hear me out?" Bradley asked, and your eyes finally met his. Your eye makeup made them look impossibly big, and he could feel the saliva pooling at the back of his tongue.

"About what?" you asked softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I think I gave you the wrong impression about who I have and have not been talking to in my free time. Sandra did give me her number, but I will only text her back if she needs information directly related to the Tiny Eagles."

Your lips parted, but you didn't say anything so he continued.

"And yeah, as soon as you volunteered to be Team Mom, I was jumping at the chance to get your number. But can you blame me?"

"You were?" you asked, a look of disbelief on your face. But when he ducked down to meet your eyes and nodded, you ducked to the side and crinkled your nose.

"Yeah, Kitten. I was. So you can put your claws away now."

You sucked in a breath, and your arms fell loosely to your sides as you looked at him. All embarrassment was gone as your expression softened and your pupils went wide. "Did you just call me Kitten?"

"Mmhmm. You've got some claws on you, yeah? And you scrunch your nose up like a cat. Cutest thing I've ever seen."

Bradley's body was humming, and the look of pure desire on your face as you inched closer to him had him aching.

"Are you going to keep calling me Kitten?" you whispered, your eyes lazily taking in his lips and mustache.

"You liked that." He was telling you, not asking.

You were the one nodding this time, and Bradley bit back a groan as your fingers teased the back of his hand. "And which would you prefer I call you? Coach Bradley or Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

Bradley did audibly groan this time. "You're trouble, Kitten."

"You didn't answer my question." You were smirking now, desire mixing with boldness in your eyes.

"You can call me anything you want."

You nodded up at him, such a smug look on your face as you reached behind you and opened your car door. Bradley watched you gracefully ease yourself onto your seat.

"I'll see you on Saturday," he whispered, and then he cleared his throat. "Can't wait for our first game, kiddo," he added a bit louder, smiling at Everett in the backseat.

"Bye, coach!" he called to Bradley.

"Yeah, bye, coach," you added, and Bradley closed your door softly.

As you pulled away, he started to make the long walk back to the bleachers to grab his own gear with a smile on his face.

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

Coach and Kitten! Ahhh! Big thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 4

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader

1K notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 8 months

Text

Dornish Wine, Weddings, and Bruised Knuckles

prompt: your best friend's getting married and you've got a thing for her brother. during the bachelorette party, you learn maybe your affection wasn't so one-sided after all.

pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x female!reader also Helaena Targaryen x Cregan Stark

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 11.1k+

warnings: modern AU, cursing, male-centric aggression, mild violence, (more) against-a-wall smut, author uses writing as therapy so theres way too many details, implied character-age-up (they're all legal to drink), barely edited so be nice, author probably missed some warnings!

Dorne wasn't just the Seventh Kingdom that withheld against conquest the longest, but now extremely notorious for their epic party scene, luxury resorts, sex-positive atmosphere, and overall debauchery. Dorne was lively, Dorne was hip, Dorne was ever-changing and always current. Dorne set trends, created challenge, and showcased their always-evolving lifestyle. Dorne was bright, colorful, tropical, and forever warm to the bone; being the ideal hot-spot for those who had money to spend.

Dorne was where everything happened.

Dorne was the place to be.

Dorne was exactly the thing you needed after finishing an over-worked, grueling finals season at your university.

When you and your best friend met for coffee nearly a full year ago to tell you she and her fiancé were thinking of a destination wedding in Dorne, you felt your excitement spike to never-before-reached heights. You would've been ashamed at how fast you jumped at the chance to travel, but you didn't have the time! You've never been to Dorne, hardly anywhere really, but going to university in the country's capital meant you interacted with a lot of international peers. Many who told you endless stories about their drunken foolishness in the Seventh Kingdom, driving up your interest and want to visit.

And now the time had finally come.

"My family's already there," Helaena told you softly; both sitting in the exclusive first class cabin after boarding the aircraft, "so we'll have transport when we land, so we just have to worry about our luggage."

You nodded at her, "Sounds good."

She offered you a look, laughing, "Just say it - I know you want to."

You glanced up and down the aisle of the plane before quickly squealing and jogging in place, "This is so fucking cool!" Helaena laughed as you calmed down, telling her, "I feel so fucking fancy right now, you have no idea! I can't believe your dad's doing all this!"

You and Helaena were traveling together because you, one, you were her bridesmaid, and two, you had a similar final exam schedule; both pursuing advanced degrees that kept you wildly busy. So her family went ahead to the resort to make sure everything was as it needed to be, and now that you were both done with exams, you were heading for Dorne to kick off 10 full days of wedding shenanigans.

When you calmed down, Helaena asked with a small smirk, "You gonna be okay?" You held up a pill bottle with an eye roll, giving it a shake; emitting a rattle. "Oh, no... No, no, no, no, no, don't take an Ambien. You're gonna be so delierious when we get there!"

"I either drug myself now or you clean anxious puke off your lap later..."

She handed you her water bottle.

The entire craft was in the air within minutes; being able to recline your seat since you were flying fancy, covering up with the blankets the pretty flight attendant offered. With earbuds in, you let Helaena lift the arm rest to lean her head on your shoulder in a snuggle, shutting your eyes, and that was honestly that.

Sure, when you woke, you were groggy and a little confused, but when you remembered where you were, all sleepiness evaporated into vibrating-excitement. You were allowed to disembark first, grab your luggage, and instantly located the sleek, tinted SUV that Helaena's father had sent for you.

Long gone were any Ambien side effects, your heart elated by the sights of Dorne you drove past. Oh, it was all so beautiful. So new. So stunningly busy. "Here!" Helaena beamed, holding her phone up and making you both pose for couple of sillier selfies before smiling sweetly for the camera for another few saved photos.

"Look, look!" You gasped, pointing to the street vendors. "That man actually has a snake on a leash! Holy shit!"

"Pretty normal here, Miss," the driver spoke stoically.

Helaena laughed, "This is so cool! Look, look at those!"

"Oh, we'll have to come back," you grinned, looking at the array of handmade purses and bags another vendor was selling. The rest of the ride was very similar, just the two of you gasping and grinning and pointing out everything you found interesting or alluring.

Upon arrival to the Sun Spear Spa and Resort (and Casino), you were blown away by the immaculate detail and decor. It was open, breathable, modern, and vast. There were three pools, direct and private beach access, six different restaurants, guided tours, several different bars planted in every corner of the resort. The walls were high, and inside, it was like stepping into a whole new world; lush green plants spewing everywhere; glass ceilings that let in all the light; marble flooring and a light perfume in the air.

"Hi," you beamed at the concierge. "We're checking in for the Stark-Targaryen wedding."

"Hi, welcome, welcome to Sun Spear! May I have your names?" The man asked in an upbeat tone, typing when you told him. He smiled and revealed, "The rest of your party has already arrived, but I have here your key cards." He handed Helaena a tiny envelope with her set of keys before offering you the same. After consulting the room numbers, you thanked the man with the name tag 'Robb' before rushing for the elevators.

"Can you believe it!?" Helaena squealed.

"Barely," you laughed, pouting dramatically. "Awh! Feels like yesterday I was introducing you and Cregan. Now we're checked into the resort you're getting married at, and it honestly doesn't feel real yet."

"Maybe it'll sink in later," she mused, moving to enter the elevator when the doors opened - but stuttered in step. "BROTHER!"

You gasped when Helaena surged past you to launch into someone's arms and knock them both half a step back onto the elevator. After a stunned moment, you recognized the long white hair adorned with a leather strap and felt your stomach plummet. You know how people say 'butterflies in my tummy' when talking about the person they like? Yeah, no, the sentiment is understood and appreciated but it's not entirely accurate. It was more like an anxious stomach-sinking feeling; churning, nauseating almost.

You smiled politely when Helaena let go and Aemond glanced up at you. He spoke your name cooly, blinking twice before seemingly remembering where he was. "Here," he offered, reaching out of the elevators to grab your suitcases.

"Thanks," you tried to laugh lightly, luggage all loaded into the death machine.

"'S good to see you," he directed at you, Helaena leaning into his side. "You look nice."

You waved him off, "Oh, you're so sweet, but you're obviously lying. I'm in my airport clothes, just spent, like, 8 hours on a plane, and I know I look as tired as I feel."

"Still," he eased softly, "beauty doesn't know tired." You didn't get to answer his compliment because when you got to Helaena's floor, the doors opened to reveal a grinning Cregan - it being obvious she had texted him and he came to greet her.

"They're so fucking cute," you whispered.

"A little too cute," Aemond answered at the same level; you both sharing a smirk.

After brief greetings to Cregan and parting words to the couple with promises to text everyone later with plans, you and Aemond continued on your way to your floor in the elevator. "You don't have to walk me to my room, you know," you told him softly.

"I know, but what kinda guy passes on the opportunity to aid a pretty lady?"

"Oh, that was smooth," you teased, snorting in amusement. "I'll give you that one."

"C'mon," he eased, the doors opening again and the pair of you striding out. "I'm actually in the room next to you, looks like," he glanced at his own door as you used your key card.

"Good, I'll have someone to help do my hair," you teased, letting him pass because he held everything and you, only your purse. Hey, he offered!

Aemond chuckled, setting your belongings down and dismissing himself, "I'll let you get settled and see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, I just want to wash the travel off me. Wanna meet in the lobby before dinner tonight?"

"Why don't I just pick you up and we go down to dinner together?"

"Woah, but it's such a long walk for you. I don't want you going out of your way," you snickered, watching his lips twitch in a grin.

"I'll see you tonight, sweetheart."

When Aemond slipped out of your room, you giggled to yourself. You just couldn't help it; hands clasping together in glee and merriment over the banter you exchanged; feeling so very girly, and while so silly, it was a welcomed feeling. And did he ask you out? No, not really, but you couldn't help but romanticize his offer to pick you up before the family dinner that evening.

You ripped open your suitcase and the chaos began; being the only person in your room meaning throwing around what you wanted wherever you wanted without disturbing others. You brought way too many clothes but you were glad you did - needing options for the different events.

You picked an outfit, scurried into the bathroom, gawked at the interior for a long moment (it was a huge bathroom for a single room), and then got the shower turned on to heat up. In the meantime, you laid out your toiletries and products and tools, then stepping into the hot shower and literally moaning from relief.

"Ohhhhh yeaaaah, baby, that's it!" You groaned through a laugh. "Is this what water pressure is? Shit, this is nice. Gods bless it," you turned so the stream was on your chest, humming again. "I can't go home ever again, can I? Nope, probably not. This kind of water pressure would literally injure a child in King's Landing, they'd never allow this kind of luxury."

You tweaked the knob, upping the temperature, and sighing when the steam swirled around you; moaning again. You were unaware that Aemond had double-backed, pausing at your door when he heard you and swallowing harshly. He glanced down and glared at the tent pitching in the front of his jeans, but then you moaned again and his single eye fluttered shut. He retreated to his room before he spent his load right then and there.

You've never done this before, but that shower was so mesmerizing, you were in there for 56 straight minutes - with zero regrets. And now, you had the distinct pleasure to prepare for dinner with your best friend's family; including her brother, who you were deeply attached to; wildly attracted to; and wanted to impress by looking more than good tonight.

You wanted to look delectable. You wanted to look stunning. You wanted to be looked at as if a five-course meal.

With that in mind, you stepped out of the shower and got to work.

Three definitive knocks announced his arrival, and honestly, you could've cried from anxiety. You figured you couldn't wait much longer after doing a fourth once-over in the mirror, couldn't look any better if you tried, and proceeded to yank the door open. "Hey," you chirped, readjusting your earring back.

"Shit," Aemond blinked as his single eye raked you up and down; leather eyepatch matching his leather belt and shoes. His button-up was black, unbuttoned at the top to show off his two thin silver chains, both at varying lengths; wearing easy black jeans.

"Hi," you mused, purse under your arm as you made sure to shut the heavy door after checking your keycard was where you needed it to be. "You look handsome, loving the monochromatic look."

"It's one of the many colors gracing my wardrobe," Aemond teased. "And if anyone should have a compliment, it's you, doll, I mean, just wow," his hand snatched yours to hold onto yours fingers and gave you a twirl while whistling. "This dress is a little short, no? Not that I'm complaining, I just know Aegon..." He teased, still holding your hand to yank you into his side; arm lazily tossing around your shoulders as he moved you off for the elevators.

"Your brother isn't a worry of mine," your eyes rolled, "not since I caught him..."

"Doing?"

"Nothing," you sang, punching the elevator door rapidly.

"Hey, now," he turned you so you were pressed to the cold, metal doors, "if it's about my family, I have a right to know."

"Only if it's dangerous or otherwise," you breathed. "Trust me, he's not in trouble, he's just... Busy...?"

"Where did you catch him?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Does to me."

"You're gonna make fun of him, no."

Aemond sighed, hearing the metal contraption arrive and easily stepped back; pulling you with him just as the doors opened behind you. He simply held your wrists and then drove you backwards, chuckling to himself when you pouted up at him and yanked your hands from his. "Still don't like your personal space invaded, huh?" He laughed, giving you space after hitting the lobby's floor.

"Who the fuck does?"

He nodded in agreement. "Where did you catch Aegon?"

Your eyes rolled, "Nope."

When you arrived in the lobby, you and Aemond were still bickering back and forth; all the way to the restaurant of choice that evening. You ran into Jace and Luke - Aemond's nephews - but didn't wait for them to join you; understanding the tension due to Luke's recklessness costing Aemond's eye.

"Hey," you mumbled to him when he went rigid about the lads, "you're okay. You're gonna be okay, it's okay, just ignore them."

He huffed hot air through his nose, nodding stiffly, and then following you to the reserved "party room" - being a private dining patio. When you arrived, there was a round of cheering, both you and Aemond being greeted, and when you looked, there was only 4 seats - both beside one another.

"Here," Aegon beamed, tugging the chair beside him out.

"C'mon," Aemond whispered, leading you to your chair; pulling it out, offering you to sit before he joined. Before you sat, you greeted Aegon, taking the advantage to whisper in his ear,

"Secret's still safe but Aemond knows something's up." You offered him a pointed look before smiling at Aemond and taking the seat he offered you. Beside you was Aemond and Helaena, and beside him, you and Aegon; Cregan on Helaena's side and Robb Stark on Aegon's other side.

After Jace and Luke arrived, the toasting began. Wine was poured, helpings dolloped to plates, cutlery scraped plates, and over it all, Alicent stood to her feet, "Well," she sighed, nodding at the table, "just let me say: welcome to the wedding of my daughter, Helaena, and her incredible fiancé, Cregan, who I believe has always been meant to join our family. I speak on behalf of my husband," she smiled at her decrepit husband, "Viserys, and I, and we just want to thank everyone who came all this way. Welcome to the start!"

After the obligatory sip, she offered, "Any others?"

The table glanced at one another, so, you stood and cleared your throat. "I'd like to offer a toast," you smiled as Alicent sat. "Watching Helaena and Cregan in the time we've all been friends has truly, truly, truly been a one-of-a-kind experience because how often do you get to witness two people who are meant to be, find each other? Like a puzzle, they are two halves of a whole, and while perhaps a little rough around the edges, still has a perfect fit. Thank you for inviting me, but mostly, thank you, Cregan," you smiled at the groom, "for being a one-of-a-kind man, because our Helaena deserves the absolute best. It brings us all peace and joy to know she will be loved and protected - as she deserves. However," you paused, "I also want to thank Helaena because, as friend to you both, it's been refreshing to see my mate be treated as he deserves, too. To Helaena and Cregan - our perfect puzzle pieces!"

Another round of applause and sips of wine.

Viserys toasted Cregan's strength and Helaena's bravery - saying they made a handsome couple. Something that made Aemond's eye meet your own with soft smiles.

Best man, Harwin Strong, toasted the beauty of young Helaena and how a "sorry sod" like Cregan would never deserve a woman like her, but so long as neither of them forgot that, everything should work out. You felt Aemond's pinky finger reach out to stroke your own resting on the table, and again, you met his gaze with a much shier attention than before.

Sansa Stark thanked everyone for the amazing time so far, loving their generosity and attention to detail. She toasted to loving your best mate first, how that will always make for a much better relationship; and how Helaena and Cregan just make having a relationship look easy, it was truly inspiring. This time, however, Helaena started to tear up a little and you reached into your purse to produce tissues for her; missing the way Aemond stared at you with a longing expression. Yet Aegon did not, nudging his brother and muttering, "Just ask her out already, for fuck's sake. She's not gonna bite."

Aemond swatted him away, taking a much longer pull of wine than the others taking an obligatory sip of wine.

A few others gave speeches, too, but you were drastically annoyed by Jace and Luke, sitting with their girlfriends, all snickering together over any and every congratulatory sound. They thought they were being quiet, yet they were anything but; the entire table eventually hearing them and offering glares that went ignored by the youngsters. You felt tension rolling off Aemond in suffocating waves, frowning when you noted a few Starks exchange unamused looks at the show of blatant disrespect. You were just about to open your mouth to tell them off when all of a sudden, after groomsman, Robb Stark, sat down, Aemond's fist punched the table to aid his standing movement.

He played it off by fluidly lifting his goblet.

"Final tribute," he spoke stoically, staring directly across the table at his nephews, "before we turn to our meals this evening, is hoisted in honor of the entire Targaryen brood. Tonight, we do not mourn the loss of a sister, but the gain of a brother, and I think it only fair we offer the same curtesy they've always shown us - respect."

"Aemond," Alicent warned.

"You've shown us all what love is," he told the couple. "How to keep it alive, how to remain level, patient, kind, resolute, and how to compromise." His eye flickered to yours, continuing, "Making us all envy the connection... The friendship you share, the time spent together - growing and nurturing one another. It's not everyday you're able to marry the right person at the right time," he half smirked, "someone you think understands you better than anyone else." He blinked, then cleared his throat, "And yet, I've always heard there's no bond like that of family - those you share blood with. Tonight, it wasn't Cregan who proved me wrong..."

"Aemond, don't," you mumbled when you heard Helaena sigh sadly.

"Hm," he seemed to change his mind, and instead, raised his cup in the air. "To my sister, the most beautiful bride and her very own Prince Charming - to Helaena and Cregan! May it be a long and happy marriage that we continue to envy through the ages."

"Here, here - "

"But also to our nephews, Jace and Luke," Aemond cut off the responses - the entire table stilling with confusion.

"Us?" Jace asked softly, "What for, Uncle? We are not the ones getting married."

"Well, since you found it appropriate to whispering during every speech, I figured why not just give you the attention you so obviously need."

The younger crowd at the table all oooh'ed in union while the older adults tried to diffuse the tension. You simply reached out to grab Aemond's elbow and pull him back into the chair beside you; frowning when he only smirked. "That wasn't very nice," you reprimanded softly.

"Needed said," he shrugged.

Alicent and Rhaenyra, mother of Jace and Luke, Aemond's older half-sister, were bickering in anger about Alicent's son disrespecting her own - but Alicent countered that Nyra's sons disrespected her daughter by their chattering. The tension melted into the night, everyone moving about their business; seemingly sweeping the tension under the rug, dishing up dinner and starting fresh conversation.

Your own peaceful talk with Cregan's uncle, Ned Stark, was interrupted when you jumped as a hand boldly laid on your mid-thigh. You covered your surprise with a dab of your cloth napkin to your mouth, looking discreetly to the warm fingers grasping your flushing flesh; then trailing your gaze up to the owner of said hand. Aemond casually ate with his other hand, a smirk pulled on his lips; never looking down at you, but wriggling his hand a little to make you squirm.

It felt so fucking good to be touched by him like this.

Even if it was minimal, fleeting; barely there and never-lasting. You savored the feel, the heat, the way a single, simple touch made your stomach twist in knots and heat to flush your skin.

However, when his hand slid up your thigh to push the hemline of your dress - your hand slapped down to halt his movements. You moved his hand back down to your limit, patted twice, and let go, distracted by Ned Stark's alluring baritone, accented voice. He took the hint and only touched you at your limit, still too casual for your liking; leaving you alone in your burning-desire state. If only you knew that Aemond was having just as hard a time as you - thinking you had the softest skin he's ever held before.

Soft, shaved - or is it waxed? - moisturized, and basically calling to him that he needed to get a handful. He helped himself.

You almost moaned when he curled his finger to your inner thigh; an embarrassing gush of arousal seeping from your cunt at the slightest movement from the handsome, silver-haired, one-eyed dickhead known as your best friend's brother. Yet you didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting beyond that, all too happy to listen to the others chatter away. He didn't push you too far, and yet, never once removed his hand - almost entranced by the feel of your warmth.

When dinner was brought out, Helaena and Cregan stood and everyone - yes, everyone this time - silenced themselves to listen. Sitting back in your chair, you slowly let both your hands come around Aemond's one; just holding his forearm as you listened to your besties thank everyone for their efforts and appearance during their nuptials.

When he didn't shy away from your show of silent affection, you let your hand drift to hold his bare wrist; frowning when his arm contracted in movement. However, your frown turned into an easy, relieved smile when he only moved to fold his hand into yours; fingers interlaced, resting on your lap to let your other hand cover your conjoined ones.

"And to my beautiful bride," Cregan purred, turning to Helaena, "I hope this is all you've ever wanted, exactly as you've imagined it... Because giving you the wedding of your dreams is top priority. To see your friends and family come together has been truly incredible, and I hope the rest of these celebrations are exactly that - a celebration as you've always dreamt it'd be. I'd give you whatever you'd ask for, you know," he grinned, the hand in your tightening. When you met Aemond's eye, Cregan continued, "You're all I could've dreamed of, and at the end of this week, we'll have the rest of our lives together - something I only ever thought was possible in my dreams. You're all I want in this life, and I'll spend the rest of ours being worthy of you."

Aemond squeezed your hand, you returning it as you beamed at your best mates kissing; the table cooing at their adorable antics while you snuck a glance at Aemond. His head was cocked down at an angle, smiling down at you, looking all too soft and kind for his usual demeanor. You couldn't look away once you made eye contact, staring at one another, lips slowly curling in a bright grin as his hand tightened in yours.

The following evening breezed in with the tropical wind, and after an hour and a half, you were pecking off room service platters you had delivered and used plastic cups to drink the Dornish sweet wine from the bottle your friend had gone to the bar to get. Sansa Stark made sure your hair was in order before she pulled her long, red strands up in a high-teased ponytail; complimenting the way her bright Tully blue eyes were rimmed in a smudged-liner. You made sure you both ate a significant amount before starting to drink - wanting to loosen up as you finished getting ready together.

She wore something from your closet, you wore something of hers. With everything you needed in your purse, you latched your heels on and took your phones off chargers. "The cabs are here!" Sansa mocked, making you sputter a small laugh. This side of her was a breath of fresh air, knowing that truly, if anyone deserved a feel-good night out, it was Sansa.

So, you made the decision to stay sober - you know, so she could drink under a safe eye. However, after double checking for hotel key cards, ID's, cash, debit cards, the paper bag of bride-to-be merch, and whatever else you deemed necessary, you left the room, and was surprised to see some of the guys leaving their rooms, too.

"Hey," You greeted the best man, Harwin Strong, "what're you guys doing?"

"God daaaaaaamn," he whistled, "lookin' good ladies!" He smirked, looking you up and down, "We're heading out to some clubs and bars, too, princess."

Your eyes rolled in good humor, "Okay, yeah, sure, where are you really going?"

"Out," he nodded, following you to the elevators. "Seriously, there's a couple places we wanna check out. By the looks of things, y'all had the same idea, huh?"

You smiled as Sansa answered, "Yeah, it was last-minute. Kinda like a bachelorette thing."

"That explains all that, huh?" Harwin snickered, pointing at your paper bag.

"Don't be a hater 'cause you didn't think of it," you teased.

He hummed, "You both look really gorgeous tonight, by the way. Just incredible, I mean, Sansa, this dress is - just wow!"

Sansa flushed, letting you thank him for you both as she seemed a little tongue-tied. However, when you made it to the lobby, it was a semi-chaotic scene as the entire bridal party had gathered to share mutual rambunctious excitement. After joining in and greeting everyone, you set the paper bag down and started to dress Helaena in the obnoxious bridal garb.

"Here," Sansa giggled, handing out different paraphernalia to each lady, "just for a few pictures!"

Nobody objected. Robb had no problem taking a load of photos; some with you all posing and others more candid. It was all in good fun, the cab driver even offering to take a large group photo of the entire bridal party; encouraging a few different poses and giving you a thumbs up when done.

"Hey," Aemond approached you as you stood to the side and texted your mother, assuring everything was okay on your vacation, "haven't seen you since dinner last night."

"I know," you pouted lightly, "I'm sorry I've been a little MIA, we had an all-day spa day today."

"And here I was thinking you were avoiding me, huh?" He mused, but you heard the underlying insecurity to his voice.

"Not even close to the truth, Aems," you promised.

"So, uh," he glanced at the guys before back at you, asking, "it's just you ladies going out tonight, right?"

"Mhm," you nodded, trying not to break apart under his gaze.

"Without... Someone there?"

"I mean, we'll all be there, looking out for each other," you offered Aemond a confused smile, "and I'm not drinking, so I'll make sure everyone's safe."

"You think that's a good idea?"

"Why not?"

"New country plus drinking, I mean, sounds pretty accident-prone."

"We'll be okay, I'll stay sober and keep an eye out, make sure nobody breaks an ankle or two like last Halloween."

He looked at the bridal party, musing, "You're going to keep hold of five drunks?"

You paused for a long moment, not putting much thought behind logistics. "I think I can manage," you admitted with uncertainty. "They're not that bad. I mean, Arya's small enough to haul over my shoulder; Helaena never drinks too much, I think I have it covered best I can."

"You know what? I'll just come with you ladies."

"What?" You giggled, thinking you must've misheard him.

"I've already been out with the boys for the bachelor's party. You're one person trying to look after my sister and her friends. Trust me, I think you're gonna need help."

"Between us, who do you think has more experience between wrangling drunk women?"

Aemond just smirked, nodding, "C'mon, we should head out."

Figuring there was no use in arguing, you turned for the minivan and got in after the other girls. After Aemond spoke to Cregan and Robb, he got in the passenger seat, and away you went. "What's he doing here?" Rhea asked cautiously, looking guarded.

"He wants to help keep an eye on us," you smirked.

"So you're gonna keep creepy dudes away from us?"

"Sure," Aemond agreed just as his sister squealed and begged for the radio to be turned up - she absolutely loved this song!

The club had no central lighting in the warehouse styled event room. There were multicolored strobe lights that flickered and pulsed and beat in-time with the loud, blaring music that was dialed to a volume that made the floor vibrate. Trendy music played in remixed playlists, heavy speakers lining most walls that didn't host the VIP sitting area.

Sweaty bodies bumped and ground together.

There was the dance floor. Then the bar lined the entire back wall, bathrooms located to the left and a fire exit to the right. The right most part of the room, stretching wall-to-wall, was an elevated space that had separate, roped-off lounge areas; complete with velvet couches and individual tables.

"Here," Rhea waved you all after her, leading you all right up to the bouncer and being granted access. Heleana looked skeptical as she realized this was some orchestrated event, not liking the idea of being clued-out of the knowing, but still, played along with the luxury treatment. You were seated in the corner booth, and without missing a beat, Sansa was tossing you her purse and yanking Helaena to the bar with the hope that her bride-to-be apparel would earn free drinks.

"This place is nice," Jeyne tried to compliment, but you and the Stark sisters shared a bemused look. "Oh! Goodie!" She squeaked when Sansa and Helaena returned with a full tray of assorted drinks.

"So, they just filled it with all the forgotten drinks," Sansa explained, "and said it was on the house 'cause of Helaena's bachelorette shit."

"Well then," you smirked, reaching for a single shot, "a toast!" Everyone reached for a drink and hoisted it in the air. "To our dear, sweet love, Helaena, and her saying 'I do' to one helluva guy! May this marriage be long, prosperous, adventurous, and full of the love you deserve! To Helaena!"

"And Cregan!" The bride slipped in as everyone echoed their toasts to the soon-to-be-married couple. You had your one shot, and while the others filled up, you and Aemond just watched them. Jeyne, Rhea, and Sansa scurried off together, Arya seeing someone she apparently knew and running off with them, and Helaena was looking at you with a dramatic pout. "Come dance with me," she whined. "I let you convince me to come out tonight, so you have to dance with me! Before I'm a spoken-for woman!"

Aemond smirked when you spared him a look as if to beg him to rescue you, but being unable to because his sister was adamant to get you on your feet.

Everyone was buddied up and accounted for; leaving Aemond alone at a reserved table. However, he didn't mind watching purses if it meant he could turn mutely to watch the dance floor, and while the lights made it hard, his eye caught sight of you.

Helaena was having the absolute time of her life, and the women around her all seemed blissfully distracted by the alcohol in their systems. He watched you. His eye did not stray, until he realized that while he could see you, so could every other wanton eye roaming the hazy room. Aemond glanced around and saw a few VIPs smoking, figuring it was okay to light up. Out of defensive anxiety, he pulled a cigarette carton from his pocket, tapped a single filtered death stick out, fingered his lighter before pausing to light, inhale, and return his gaze back onto you.

You were lost in the music, evident that all you ladies needed some stress relief after the whirlwind that is wedding planning. He knew you weren't drinking, but seeing you laugh and toss you arms up, rolling your hips in rhythm to the music, he knew you didn't need a single drop to have a good time. He thought that was admirable, incredibly rare these days. In Aemond's experience, college kids had a hard time saying no to alcohol, and the fact that you did it so willingly felt like whiplash.

Aemond stood and neared the guard railing of the elevated section he was stationed on. His shoulder leaned into a steel support beam, staring at you for several long moments while casually smoking; perking up only a degree when you told the girls something and then started moving through the throngs of people.

You pushed up to the bar and the bartender almost immediately took your order. He figured all seemed well enough because you weren't moving from the bar yet, his gaze shifting to scan the building.

Bodies were pressed together at every inch, the smell of sweat and spilt alcohol seemingly permanently perfuming the air. It was hard to see, but after adjusting, he could make out a few faces. Nobody seemed too hair-raising, nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary...

Until his eyes returned to you. The bartender was distracted doing their job, and instead of you standing peacefully, there was some guy obviously trying to flirt with you. He seemed desperate for a conversation, Aemond almost cringing from a distance as he could only imagine what kind of terrible pick-up lines this guy was using. He felt ready to move into action, but the moment the thought entered his mind, Aemond saw you gather the glasses from the bar, turn, and quite literally ignore the blonde man - who stared after you with a gobsmacked expression. Aemond smirked when the man turned to complain to his friends; holding a drink in one hand as the other gestured angrily after you.

The man's friends got a glimpse of you and laughed, slapping their friend's chest; and Aemond hoped one of them told him that a girl as pretty as you was lightyears ahead of his league.

Aemond relaxed when you returned to the party, taking a long drag when you distributed drinks to your friends. Arya had come back around with her friend, the group mingling and enjoying their new acquaintances. He noted you were empty handed, flagging a waitress down; the VIP section apparently having the luxury of being waited on to avoid the long waits at the bar. He quietly requested two bottles of water be delivered - unsealed - to their table.

His attention returned to the bridal party, only to watch a few guys join your group. Sansa and Rhea ate up the attention; leaving Jeyne and Helaena to dance alongside Arya and her friend, as the same guy from the bar holding your conversation hostage. You still looked disinterested; stoic and cold; body language assuring Aemond that you weren't receptive to the stranger. You flinched in discomfort when he had to lean in to shout in your ear just to be heard over the music, but your eye rolls told Aemond you wouldn't listen even if in a silent library.

Something in the interaction made him annoyed. It wasn't jealousy that someone was paying attention to you, standing so close and intimately; invading your space. It was something else. He could tell you weren't interested in whatever was being said, and when you turned from the man once again, obviously dismissing him to dance with Helaena and Jeyne, Aemond could see offense paint the man's face. It wasn't jealousy, but perhaps something akin to protectiveness after witnessing the way the man had approached you at the bar, and now, again, on the dance floor.

Without a single thought, Aemond was pushing off the beam and dropping his cigarette to crunch under his boot the moment the stranger reached for your upper arm to whip you around aggressively; snarling and scolding you. Aemond easily slotted through the sweaty crowd, not entirely barging through them but not exactly waiting for them all to part for him. The stranger was sneering something at you, demanding an apology for blowing him off (twice) so rudely, but you were snapping that it was rude to bombard you. To pester disinterested women. To impose. To approach an entire group of women and ruin the good vibe by simply being an intrusive, entitled man. The blonde man was just in the middle of snarling in your face how much of a "catch" he was when Aemond arrived, and without truly thinking, he reached out and tore the man away.

Aemond, while decently lanky and skinny, was ripped with defined muscle and when his anger was flared up, he was near unstoppable. So, in reality, the stranger would've been moved whether sober or not, but because this man was drunk, he nearly toppled over. As the stranger scrambled off the floor, Aemond stood protectively in front of you with his anger almost palpable, barking, "She told you to fuck off, mate."

"Oh-ho! Got a big man here, do we!?" The blonde stranger raged, his pale flesh turning a bright red from his anger and alcohol consumption. "You wanna have a go, mate, I'll fuck you up right here! Right now! Fuck you think you're doin', touchin' me like that, you fuckin' prick!?"

"She's not interested," Aemond stood his ground, "and you need to walk away - right fucking now."

"Over some stuck-up whore who won't even accept a drink? She's that much of an up-tight bitch? Too full of her-fucking-self? Man, you're wasting your time, chicks like that don't know a nice guy even when he hits her."

"As if any woman in their right mind would accept a drink from you," Aemond sneered, looking the man up and down. "You got ears? You speak the Common Tongue? Turn around and fuck off - the ladies aren't interested."

"Like I'm listening to some one-eyed, pussy-boy - "

"Aemond!" You yelped, shoving yourself in front of him when you saw the impending danger. You knew his injury was off-base; not a topic of conversation anyone dare engage in. The fact this stranger honed in on it so easily was triggering in the worst way imaginable. "Hey, hey, hey, he's not worth it. Hey, c'mon, don't let it get to you this bad. It's okay. Aemond, c'mon, let's just walk away."

"Listen to your bitch, mate! She's not even fuckin' worth it! What kind of a guy wants to parade around with some whore? Wearing something like that for everyone to see! What's wrong, princess?" He directed at you. "He don't give you enough attention? Huh? You gotta find it anywhere else, don't'cha, why else dress like that - huh!?"

By now, a small crowd had formed and the blonde, drunk stranger was being egged on and riled up by his mates. "Don't," you repeated to Aemond, perfectly all too used to men's reaction when women reject them or simply didn't get what they want.

"Walk away," Aemond repeated, his veiny hands moving to hold your arms as if it would physically restrain him; your hands on his waist to keep him anchored.

"Man, what the fuck ever. Not even worth it," he scoffed.

"Then why do you keep talking?" Sansa drunkenly snapped from behind Aemond's broad shoulders.

"Fuck did you say, bitch!?"

Aemond sighed and tugged you behind him, stepping up to the drunk blonde man; lowering his tone to mutter something as he stood between you ladies and the lads in tacky Hawaiian-print button-ups. You're not sure what was said, but Aemond seemingly had the last word; watching him turn back for you lot and instantly start checking that each of you was truly okay.

Aemond gently caressed Helaena's cheek, muttering, "You good?"

She nodded, but then, her eyes widened and she squeaked when the stranger charged Aemond from behind, shouting his name in warning. "Shit!" You yelped when he dodged out of the way just as the man threw a wild punch.

Nobody could've stopped the fight if they tried.

You made sure to herd the women close as Aemond dodged two more throws, his long platinum hair swinging as it fell out of its bun before he found his opportunity. Aemond strategically waited until the blonde stranger was open to throw his weight behind his fist colliding with the drunk man's cheekbone.

The crowd of people around you all 'ooohed' in union, wincing when Aemond, again, knocked his fist into the man's jaw and, again, sent him sprawling to the floor. One of the friends managed to sneak in and land a blow on Aemond's cheek, but his head only barely turned with the impact. His eye locked onto the new target, and not a minute later, the other guy was nursing a broken nose.

Aemond glanced around for any other contenders, sighing when there were none - just a cloud of jeering drunks voicing their approval towards the violence. "Hey," you begged again, his eye finding your worried face, "you done now? Can we get you cleaned up?"

Sansa stepped up, stating, "We can go if you guys want - we don't have to stay!"

"No, just... Stay outta trouble," Aemond sighed. "I'll be up there," he gestured back at the elevated VIP section. You hated seeing him shoulder his way through the rowdy crowd who had already forgotten about the fight.

You shook your head, grabbing Helaena's arm and leaning into her ear, "I'm gonna check on Aemond. Don't go anywhere, stay with the girls!"

"I will!" She agreed, letting Arya push another shot in her hand. You turned and grumbled when bodies began bumping into you instantly; your jaw clenched to keep upright. You had to eventually shove a few people out of your path, but didn't care, jogging up to the VIP section and looking around. When you got back to your table, Aemond was sitting with his head tilted back, eye closed, smoking another cigarette, ice on his slightly reddened hand.

"Aemond?" You checked, announcing your presence as you took the seat beside him; scooting closer. "The fuck was that? Gettin' in fights in the club, Alicent wouldn't be proud," You spoke gently, readjusting his ice so it was actually over the swollen area.

"Just guys being dudes, dudes being guys," he mused, free hand holding his cigarette to speak as he exhaled. "Why're you up here?"

"I wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine, you can go back - "

"Aemond," you snipped, "I'm fine here. I needed a break, and I wanted to check on you."

He nodded towards the table, "Water's for you."

You glanced over, finding the two water bottles amongst an array of items on the tabletop. One unopened, the other cracked and partially drank. "Thank you," you spoke sincerely, waiting until his eye met yours, "for the water and for defending me back there. I owe you one."

"I only did what a gentleman should do," he sighed.

"Wasn't worth bruising your knuckle, was it?"

"I'd actually say it was necessary," he spoke like it was easy. You hated that, how he seemed fluent in flirting but you knew he wasn't really. Why would he? Aemond Targaryen made 'being perfect' look fucking perfect.

You were quiet for another moment before you blurted out, "It was pretty hot, I have to admit. Seeing you defend my honor."

He eased his cigarette to an ashtray, speaking clearly, "Wasn't gonna let him touch you." You thought that was final and just smiled softly, but then Aemond finished, "Wasn't about to let any man touch what's mine."

"Yours, huh?"

He smirked, "Why not?" His now free hand landed on your bare thigh; dress riding up when you sat down to give him access to your spa-waxed legs. "You anyone else's?"

"I'd like to think women aren't possessions."

"Yet you're the one prize I fucking need," his hand squeezed. "Don't even know what kinda gem you are, do you?"

"I think your adrenaline's got you talkin' crazy," you tried to deflect, giggling lightly. But his hand squeezed again, making you look up to meet his gaze.

"I know what I want. And I know," his hand slid up to ease up the curve of your ass, "that I'm done denying my want for you."

"Aemond," you felt drunk on his presence.

"Tell me to stop, doll, and we won't ever have to talk about it again. But if you can't," he palmed your flesh, "and you want this, too - "

Your hand grabbed his wrist to stop him, pulling his hand from under your dress, "Helaena's my best friend, and you're her brother. This is... The most taboo situation we could entertain right now."

"Hmm," he pulled his hand back, making you instantly snatch it back.

"But I can't tell you I don't feel it, too." Aemond's eye glittered in the strobe lights, feeling him pull your legs so you were nearly sat on his lap; legs laid over his so he could fully touch your thighs again. "But we can't, i-it would - this would take away from Helaena - we can't."

"I don't see her here right now," he purred, leaning in close to breath in your neck. "Tell me how long you've wanted me."

"Aemond."

"Keep sayin' my name, baby, but it doesn't answer my question."

You only managed to answer, "Too long," in a quivering voice before,

"HEY!" Sansa slurred, beaming brightly from over Rhea's shoulder as they stumbled up; giving just enough time for you and Aemond to separate. "I know you guys! Oh! I know them! Look! It's our friends!"

Rhea Royce, being just-as-drunk, gasped, "I know them, too! Oh, bless the Seven! We know you!"

"Hi," you laughed, eyeing them all with full amusement, "everyone doing okay?"

"I called our ride, they're up the street - they can't get down here 'cause of traffic," Jeyne informed with a pant, Helaena and Arya held to her body. You smiled at Aemond before getting up to gently take Helaena's weight from Jeyne, who breathed, "Thank you so much. C'mon, our ride's up there - "

Aemond grunted as he stood and offered his water to Rhea, assisting the ladies in keeping their balance in sticky-soled heels. You handed Sansa your unopened water as you held onto Jeyne, watching Aemond help Arya, Rhea, and Helaena - who needed his support.

It was a shit-show getting the group in another minivan; the only relief being when they were bribed with tacos. The ride to the resort was a total 180 compared to the ride out, as everyone knocked out except you and Aemond. A couple of times, you wondered if you should speak first but never did - being vulnerable isn't your forte.

You know what you would rather do than wrangle in five drunk girls? Specifically after a bachelorette party? Declaw wet cats. Contract measles. Be hit by a bus. Learn how to speak Latin (a dead language, for those who don't know). Go to Vegas with your entire lifesavings and lose it all. Use pliers to yank a tooth out - no dentist or anesthesia used (Ron Swanson style).

Anything would be better than this.

It took the better part of an hour for you to get all the girls out of the van, through the resort, and into Jeyne's border-line empty hotel room. Empty because the sweet, party girl from Northern University didn't unpack, and was the cleanest; the perfect place to dispose of everyone. Aemond was as helpful as ever, but he didn't do much past helping you get the women in bed; unsure how to help past that. From there, you did the rest: took off any shoes and / or glasses, plugged phones in, left water bottles and a bottle of Advil in view, and shut the curtains to grant them deliverance when the sun rose.

When done, you and Aemond snuck out of the room quietly and let the door shut behind you; leaving you in the hall. "I put Sansa's phone on FaceTime with mine," you showed him, "in case one of them throws up or needs something, and left it on the charger."

"So we should get you to your charger, right?"

"Oh," there was teasing to your tone, "worried about my battery running low?"

"Just wondering if your batteries can go all night," he smirked, picking up on your innuendo.

"Oh, good one," you teased, watching him smirk. "Thanks for helping tonight. It was nice having you watching our back."

"Yeah?"

You beamed, nodding, "For sure. I could tell Helaena had a blast."

"Good, 's what I care about," he nodded. "Listen," he cleared his throat, "I, uh... I have to make a confession."

"Aemond Targaryen wants to tell me a secret?" You teased, facing him in full-interest. "Please," you encouraged, gesturing for him to go-on.

His tongue wet his lips swiftly, "I know you're Helaena's friend and you say it's wrong, but I just... I tried not to have these feelings for you, but I can't stop them."

You smiled, "Aemond, that's the alcohol talking."

"What if I said I didn't have any?"

You blinked in mild shock, offering quietly, "I'd say you were delirious from dehydration or something. It was really hot in there, must've been sweating a lot, or maybe it's your adrenaline again!

"Why is it so far fetched for you to think I could have honest feelings for you? Truly, have you thought this was just a one-way street?"

"You're Helaena's brother," you spoke softly, sadly, "and maybe we're just - I don't know - not thinking clearly! We need to cool off - "

"No, no, I don't need to cool off, you see, because I'm thinking the clearest than ever before," Aemond shook his head, reaching for your shoulders to squeeze, and move down to hold your upper arms, squeeze again, then down to just above your elbow. "I feel as if I don't say it now, I might lose the nerve later. I've always admired you, sweetheart, and I know it's wrong, I know it's taboo and scares you, I know I'm your best friends brother, but I can't help it. You're just - this - like - fucking incredible person, who is loyal and wise and strong and knowing and open and sweet and empathetic and wickedly intelligent - "

You cut him off by surging into his arms; chest to chest, lips locked together in a passionate exchange of fierce, over-boiled emotion without a single thought towards further repercussions. There was tongue, there was teeth, there was an-ever spreading warmth that stretched from your cheeks to your toes. Aemond tasted just like he semlled - sweet, salty, just the right amount of spicy. He let you lock your hands in his hair, always knowing your affinity for his long silver mane; tugging the strands you managed to get ahold of gently to cause Aemond to moan while sucking on his domineering tongue.

Aemond was losing his mind; infected with all you were, all you are, all you would, could, and should be. The way you made him feel, the obvious care you put into others, the sweet, innocent look in your eye replaced by a haze of lust - all thanks to him. For a moment, Aemond's mind felt numb before it jolted back into reality, realizing he was kissing you. You. You were kissing him, he was kissing you. His dear, sweet, kind, ever-so-perfect sister's best friend, you - he was kissing you and you were kissing him back. Sure, he dreamt of this happening about a few dozen times but the real thing was tenfold what he ever imagined.

Holy Seven, he was kissing you.

"I take it," he panted, breaking apart before surging in for another taste of your pouting lips, "you might feel..." another kiss and a small moan, "feel the same?" He pulled back to look in your eyes, but when you didn't answer him, Aemond teased, "Oh, c'mon, princess, tell me you feel the same. Tell me I'm not makin' a fool of myself, that we're not just runnin' high from the club's fumes."

"No," you promised, "you are no fool, Aemond Targaryen; far from it, in fact. I, too, feel whatever this is, whatever is emotional, tangible, physical between us, I feel it, too, and I want you - oh!"

He didn't need to hear anything more, suffocating you in another kiss, and this time, you let him control the motions because you were unsure how far this would - or should - go. His hands squeezed over your hips, turning, and pushing you against the wall just a few steps behind you. Your moan was meek, released into his mouth; loving Aemond's taste on your tongue; and for now, you simply forgot he was your best friend's brother. Or ignored the fact.

"Shit," he panted, looking down at you before glancing down the hall, "listen, listen, listen, baby, hey, if we keep goin', I might not stop." He offered a small shrug, "Ready to bust right here, right now, if I'm honest, but I'd rather be inside you."

You considered his words for a moment; waiting for his gaze to return to you before voicing your opinion. Feeling inexplicably turned on by his earlier actions to defend you, bruising his knuckles on a stranger's jaw; how he called you his, how he touched you, and when his single violet eye turned back to you, you surprised yourself by your words, "Better make it quick, then."

Aemond smirked, "You want me to fuck you, here? Against the wall?"

"Maybe," you answered softly, letting your hand reach out to palm over his swelling cock; hearing his breathing catch and continuing, "only if you can be quick so we aren't caught and slapped with an indecent exposure charge."

Aemond did not hesitate to swoop down and slam his lips to yours; pushing his hips forward so he could grind into your palm. Hands roamed to touch, caress, squeeze until they secured your hips in a bruising grip, then dipping low to suddenly grab your thighs and hoist you up. As if you weren't turned on enough, the obvious show of strength and ease in which he held you made your cunt contract over nothing; dampening to an embarrassing level. You couldn't remember the last time someone made you feel so frantic; so animalistic; so feral that you needed to be fucked right here, right now, in this hall that was so very public.

But that was the fun: having a frenzied fuck with the looming threat someone might catch you.

You moaned like a wanton bitch in heat, core pressed against his straining member and only imaging what the feel of him would be. A whimper was ripped from your throat, gasping as Aemond grew to a knew height of desperation; turning a degree more aggressive in the way he pressed close to you, teeth scraping your lips. It was like he was trying to suck your soul through your mouth; tongues battling, hands sliding around one another as if unsure where to hold. You settled on his cheeks, finding the chiseled features alluring enough to grip; his securing your waist and base of your ribcage in a bruising grip, both moaning in pleasure and need.

"Gotta keep it down, pretty girl," he muttered with a smirk, holding you expertly so he could grind his harden, black-jean-covered member to your ever-dampening core. "Don't wanna get caught, huh? Disturb the peace, have someone hear us," he breathed against your lips, "come outta their room to check?"

You whimpered.

"Oh," he chuckled darkly, pulling back only just to look at you, "my pretty girl would like that, huh? Always knew you were a fuckin' freak."

His lips were on yours as you pawed as his belt and jeans. Aemond chuckled into the kiss, readjusting his hold on you to help; and the moment the garment was loose, you shucked his jeans to mid-thigh. All the while, Aemond leaned back in to smother your neck and shoulder with his searing-hot, teeth-raking kisses; uneven breathing making you tremble when each exhale covered your saliva-coated skin to send a shiver through your muscles.

"Aemond," you begged, riding up your dress to expose your soaking-wet, black lace thong, "just need you - now. Please, please, we don't have time for begging."

"Gotta warm you up - "

"I've been warm since you shoved that guy off me," you rushed, whimpering, "please, okay? Just fuck me. I need it, I need you. Take your time with me later, but for right now, just fuck me - I need you to fill me, Aemond."

"I gotta condom - "

"I'm on birth control - that NuvaRing is fuckin' incredible," you laughed, hearing him hum in amusement as his teeth latched down on your bottom lip enough to encourage you into another tongue-wrestling session.

After a moment, Aemond grinned and glanced down to push away any lingering fabric, lips licking yours messily; grabbing hold of his cock to line up at your core. Never before had you felt "dripping" for any man, but Aemond wasn't just any man. No, in your mind, he was The Man.

No warning was necessary for him to snap his hips forward; sheathing his hot, leaking cock in your sopping warmth in one fluid motion; piercing you. He praised in your ear, "Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," before sharing a moan; yours from absolute pleasure, and his from sheer relief. He's wanted this longer than you have, which felt impossible, but the truth was the truth. Aemond's been in love with you for what felt like an impossible amount of time.

"Shit," you begged, teeth scraping the shell of his ear, "hang on, hang on, hang on." You whimpered, "You're so fuckin' big - just a moment, please, hang on."

"'S all right, love. Take your time. I got you," he soothed, unfazed by your repeated pawing around his neck to keep your balance; sweaty palms catching his hair a few times. "Just fuckin' feel me, baby," he groaned in your ear, "and how full you feel. So fuckin' tight," he grit.

You whimpered.

The thing is, you've fucked your share of men (and women) before, but Aemond was something Godly. You felt disappointed you didn't get to physically see his glory, nor have it in your mouth, but figured there was time to admire him like a painting in the Louvre later. For now, you could only understand that Aemond was by far the biggest you've had; both in size and girth. You shuddered at the feeling of him filling you to the brim, whispering, "M-Move, please, move, just start moving, oh, my Gods. Y'Feel so fuckin' good, shit, Aemond, baby, you feel - Godsdamnit, you feel so fucking good."

Aemond did as you asked, moving his hips to drag his cockhead along your quivering walls to collect your wetness, only to push right back in; creating a languid pace as to allow you accommodation. His teeth grit tightly, "No idea what it feels like for me, sweet girl. Fuck. Who got you this wet? Huh? Who got you here? Fuckin' tell me, baby, who got you like this?"

"You, Aemond. Always you, baby, always gettin' me wet - so fuckin' wet," you babbled. "Don't even have t'do shit t'get me goin', 'M always so ready for you to have me." You felt a scream build and Aemond must've seen it because he offered you a stern look as he humped quickly into you. "Quick and quiet, right?" You complained with wide eyes, swollen lips; the perfect pout that would get you whatever you wanted from the middle Targaryen.

"Jus' for right now, can get as loud as we want later, huh?" He hissed, groaning as he readjusted his stance to increase his speed. "Hold on, princess, just hold onto me, I got us, almost there," his lips ghosted your neck before letting his teeth gnash your flesh in a show of messy dominance. "Good fuckin' girl, yes, yes," Aemond grit, flexing his jaw when he felt your arms tighten, "just hold on fa'me - can't get enough of this. Huh? Hear me? Can't ever go back, princess, not when I've had you like this - jus' fuckin' made f'me, Godsdamnit - yes, yes, yes, there's my girl, good girl, so fuckin' good for me. Shit, I don't wanna cum, I just wanna feel this pussy for as long as possible, but I can't hold it, baby, shit, I can't hold it anymore."

Your moans and grotesque sounds of Aemond's balls slapping your leaky cunt filled the hall; your mind only briefly registering the idea for a moment to let you glance up and down the hall to ensure your "privacy". Words failed you, your lungs heaving in short puffs; gripping his shoulders as if it would keep you anchored, but the truth was, his forceful hips were sending you up the fucking wall.

"Ae-Aemond," you begged brokenly, reaching for your clit and only needing to add minimal pressure; ready to shatter from the harsh thrusts your one-eyed lover provided. "I-I-I'm there. I'm there, baby, please, oh, shit!" You felt a sob lodge in your throat.

"Cum on my cock, princess," he demanded as your head tilted back to bang into the wall, sinking his teeth deep into your pulse point when exposed. "Lemme feel you, love, c'mon, just let it go. Show me - " he felt the trickling of your cum squirting out in a rare display, "oh-ho-hoooo, look at that, yes, yes, there's my good fuckin' girl. That's it, fuckin' soak me, there it is - shit, shit, oh, fuck. Grippin' me so fuckin' tight without anythin' needin' to be said. Good girl," he grunted, feeling as if stabbing through you with the way he thrusted and jackhammered his cock into your tightening cunt with each word.

Your tongue flattened against his neck, hearing his groan, and when your mouth closed down to lock your teeth over his pale flesh, sure to leave a red mark, Aemond gave a final grunt. He shuddered; hands bruising your skin as his hips stuttered once, twice, and stilled against you. Your nether region blossomed with his warmth, your lungs panting to catch your breath; feeling full as Aemond barely deflated inside you.

"Shit," you whispered.

"Yeah," he gaped in agreement, gulping harshly. "You all right, love?"

"Mhm," you nodded against him, nuzzling his cheek with your nose. "You?"

"So fuckin' good," he chuckled, glancing down the hall. "I gotta set you down, baby, 'M cramping a little. Easy does it, just hold onto me," he spoke soothingly, pulling his cock out and easing you to your feet while holding onto his neck and shoulders. "Keep my cum right there," he smirked down at you, readjusting your panties over your swollen cunt before tugging your dress back down; giving a playful slap to your clit that made you jump a little from the overstimulation. "Don't let a drop out, hmm?"

"Take that up with gravity, I got nothin' to do with it," you whined, leaning on the wall for full-support. After situating his cock back and yanking his boxers and jeans back up, Aemond dropped to a knee before you.

"Here," he whispered, lifting one of your legs to ease your shoe off. You smiled, holding onto his shoulders as he helped you remove both shoes; standing to his full height again. He looked nervous for a moment, mouth opening but closing as words evaded him.

You took mercy, smiling, "Aemond?"

"Yeah, princess?"

"Would you like to spend the night with me?"

He smirked, chuckling, "Yeah, think I would."

"Good. You get to carry me, then." Aemond grinned and moved before you realized what he was doing, swooping you into his arms. You giggled girlishly, "I need my stuff!" He glanced down at the floor to spy your shoes, purse, phone. Aemond grunted as he lowered in a squat, letting you collect your things to rest in the cradle of your belly, snickering, "You're such a show off."

"This is why we don't skip leg-day, pretty girl," he smirked, "or core day, or arm day..."

"We get it, you work out! But weren't you cramping up a minute ago?"

"Yeah, but that was then."

As he walked towards the elevator, you both heard a door open and peaked over to see one of Aemond's distant, great-uncles peaking out in confusion. "Did you guys hear that?" The older man asked hoarsely, obviously disgruntled from being woken up. "What's all that racket? We thought we could expect for a little sleep!"

You felt embarrassment flush your system, a hand slapping over your mouth - but Aemond covered, "Sorry, Uncle, the wedding parties went out drinking. Got them all safe in their rooms, except this one, though. Sorry for the noise."

He smiled, nodding as if in relief, "You're a good boy, Aemond. She all right?"

"Yes, just a little too much to drink," he chuckled, your free hand reaching over to pinch his nipple through his shirt as your other hand now hid an amused smile. "Goodnight, Uncle, there won't be other disturbances tonight."

When the elevator arrived, Aemond stepped on as this distant relative shut his door again, and as the elevator doors shut, you shared a look before bursting out in laughter. "I don't think I can face him at the wedding now," you whined lightly.

"Why not?"

"I literally have your cum dripping outta me - "

"I told you to keep it in."

You smirked, "I guess you're just gonna have to punish me, then, huh? You never did like being disobeyed, now, did you?"

Aemond laughed, his single lilac eye scanning over your face; slowly dropping in serenity. "What're we doing, baby? Hmm?" He asked quietly.

"Going to my room - "

"You know what I mean," he sighed almost sadly. When you arrived at your floor, he walked out of the elevator as you answered,

"You and I know we have feelings for each other. So, for tonight, it's just us... And we'll decide when to tell the others after we decide what it is to tell them."

"Probably best after the wedding..."

You smiled as you arrived at your hotel door, "Well, I was kinda hoping you'd be my date to the wedding?"

Aemond looked down at you with a softening expression. "Yeah?" He chuckled slightly as you opened your clutch to pull out your keycard, but his hands tightened to earn your full attention once the plastic was in your hand. "I'd... Actually really like that, too, sweetheart," he hushed, hoisting you in for another frantic kiss. The door beeped when it opened, closing with a heavy bang behind you both; forgetting Sansa was left on FaceTime... Too distracted by both being obviously turned on, it seemed, by emotional intimacy.

Perhaps not so one-sided, indeed...

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avatarkv · 10 months

Text

V ! I Know it's for the better. Know it's for the better.

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.

Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 5057)

Song: Waiting Room, Phoebe Bridgers.

“Can you hear me, corporal?” He chuckles, “Yeah. I think you can.”

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, consider yourself a dead man.” Your father seethed through the intercom that you could feel his very rage– it frightened you, almost more so than being captured by Quaritch. Jake wasn't the kind of man who liked to make idle threats; it was his commitment that made him the perfect olo’eyktan, but it was purely love that made him the father he is today.

You knew very well what he was capable of.

You tugged at the binds, desperate to loosen them but to no avail. Squirming uncomfortably in your seat, despair settled into your chest like lead and you felt helpless. You didn't even put up a fight to begin with; all those training, just to end up at the root of it all. You could only glare at Quaritch while he looked down at you, fingers pressing the pager on his ear.

“Now don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you have your father’s eyes.” His remark made your gaze falter, disgust coursing through your body. “You know what to do, Jake.”

“Don’t touch her, asshole! She’s just a kid–

“Might’ve gotten a few scratches in, but nothing a few bandaids can’t fix.” Quaritch looks you up and down, a smirk playing on his lips, “Don’t worry, we show visitors the utmost respect here. I’m certain you’d know our customs around these parts, marine.” His tone is slightly aggressive and there's an air of smugness in his words– he’s provoking him, taking pleasure in knowing that he has the upper hand.

Scratches my ass. They gave you one hell of a shot on your side when they tried to kill off your ilu and they did nothing but put some ragged cloth to stop the bleeding. You knew it wasn’t any deep, but it still hurt– not to mention you’ve lost a lot of blood from their harsh tugging. You wince, thinking about it. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline coursing through your body, you would’ve been in a whole lot of pain.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Same as before. You for her.”

Their voices melted into the background, like a low hum of static passing through your ears. Despite the noise, you feel yourself attune to it after a while and allow yourself to drift away. Eventually, it tuned itself out and you were surrounded by an almost eerie silence.

Your father had said something, you remembered, something you had missed.

You had missed the looming aircraft above– unlike the usual helicopters you knew, this one flew stealthily, as if it was designed to lurk and catch even the slightest of movement. At first, they thought it was merely a lone ilu; they were now at the reef, after all. Your color blended almost perfectly with its skin, movement as fluid as the raging sea. They had shot it, grazing its fin.

“Mawey, mawey!” You had screamed in panic, trying to hold on to its thrashing body. “Dad–”

The ilu struggled, bellowing in pain. It was impossible to form a bond, let alone control your breathing– the bluish-green waters were now tainted with a faint, crimson hue. Blood; familiar blood, painful red.

“__, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay?” It was difficult to make out the words he had spoken over the loud static of the pager. The radio waves were making it hard for either of them to hear properly. Trying again, he shouted, “Sweetheart, I’m–”

From there, they had spotted you; a forest na’vi, sticking out like a sore thumb. Quaritch had most certainly hit the jackpot upon seeing that it was none other than Jake Sully's eldest daughter.

You wondered what he could have uttered in that moment before Quaritch and his people had rushed to get to you. Could it have been an apology– a sorry you’ve been longing for? Sweetheart, I’m sorry for being so tough on you. I’m sorry we had to leave home– leave him. I’ll find you and you’ll be okay. We’re going home.

But the thought of facing his disappointment again plagued you; once it had been his love that held you together, but now this fear kept your feet firmly planted on the ground.

Sweetheart, I’m disappointed in you– how could you put yourself in this situation? How could you put everyone in danger again? What would Neteyam think? I’m tired, __. You tire me.

Yeah, that was surely it.

Your eyes wandered around the room; the unfamiliar white walls reminded you just how far away from home you were and perhaps this time, you could never return.

Quaritch grabs your braid in his fist, tugging on it with a vice-like grip and forcing you to look up at him. You stifle a cry of pain, feeling the throbbing ache all across your scalp as his grip tightens around it. He tugs on it further, wanting a sound out of you, but all you could let out was a loud hiss. “Can’t hear your father, darling, think we have to put on a show.” He sneers, “You must not really love your children, Jake.”

“I understand already–! get your fucking hands off her!”

“I don’t think you understand, really.” Quaritch taunts.

A beat of silence passes before your father's desperate voice echoes through the intercom. “Please,” he pleads, “Don't hurt my daughter."

“There we go,” He finally releases your hair, “I’ll be waiting, Jake.”

Quaritch removes the pager, discarding it on the table just in front of you.

“You must be very disappointed in yourself,” A low hiss erupted from your throat as you gazed upwards. He sat in front of you, mockingly close, yet far enough that you couldn’t do anything but glare. “Does this not remind you of a familiar night?”

“They are coming for you,” Your tone was menacing– livid, as the words snarled from your lips. “And when they do, you’re gonna wish that you’ve let yourself rot in that shack.”

It flashed through his mind– a glimmer of your mother that burned fiercely; a warning. Quaritch straightened his posture, chuckling. “That traitor is coming to save his dear daughter in distress, much like your brother had. We know how it'll end.”

“Not until he kills you first,”

“You’re in a different boat, kid, away from the main one. What happens if I tell him he’d been too late and I got bored?” He shakes his head, snickering, like he had figured it all out– like he had carefully planned for everything to work out just so.“That this kid had too much of a mouth on her that I had to cut her throat?”

His words had struck you– a low blow. You feel as if your mouth has suddenly gone dry and the lump that appears in your throat lodges itself there stubbornly, refusing to move. No words came out of your lips, but a pathetic low sob. He was going to kill your father and he could succeed in doing so. “You’re one sick man.”

“You know your brother didn’t have to die,” His voice held no remorse and you wondered how someone could sleep so soundly. He stands up, dusting his pants, “But your father had it coming. Now stay here and be a sweetheart.”

Before he walked out, Quaritch had looked down on you one last time. There, you realized that you doomed yourself beyond salvation. You were nothing and he made sure of that— had cut you on a barely healing wound and now it reopened, bleeding more than ever.

Eywa must’ve turned her back. No child of hers would have suffered such trouble– and you were young. So young, you think that the stories of her were absurd. One more miracle, you needed just one more.

The lights dimmed when the doors closed, leaving you in the dark with your thoughts.

They were arguing again.

Tuk was nestled close to Kiri, the two of them huddled together in front of the table. Lo'ak sat on the other side, rising slightly from his seat in an effort to eavesdrop and make out whatever he could hear from their parents’ conversation.

Something was off and gravely so. Nothing ever good rooted from a fight and they barely do, not until the past occurrences. It had to be the sky-people.

“I don’t feel so good,” Tuk muttered, her grip tight around her belly as if she could hold in the pain. “The last time this happened was when we left our home.”

“We’re not leaving, Tuk.” Kiri quickly assured her.

Their meal had gone cold and the silence was deafening. They all waited with baited breath, trying not to fidget or move. The suspense was growing thick in the air and they didn't know how much longer they could bear to remain idle, wondering what the hell was happening.

As if their prayers had been answered, Jake hurriedly walks inside, eyes falling to his panicked children. It made his heart more and more heavy, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort them. Neytiri had already gone to Ronal’s

“Kids,” His voice was low and firm, and it made his shoulders stiff in anticipation, “Make sure everyone stays here. No one goes out the reef, understand?”

“Wait—” Lo’ak abruptly stands up, staggering to his feet. “What’s happening? Where’s __?”

“They took her.” It was all the answer he needed. The sky-people had found them. “Lo’ak, stay here with your sisters. I mean it.”

“You can’t expect me to stay here while __ is in danger—”

“I need one child! One child to listen when I tell them to stay,” He raises his voice with every word, but it wavers as he speaks— Jake could barely keep himself together, eyes betraying his authority. His gaze sharply shifts to his daughters, watching intensely as the scene unfolds. “Kiri, please.” She only replies with a curt nod and Lo’ak visibly deflates.

He needed them to stay here— here, where it’s safe. Here where Quaritch couldn’t touch them.

From afar, he embodied the fierce olo’eyktan that he is, but truthfully, he trembles as a father. He blamed himself for that night– blamed himself for everything that had happened. Jake couldn’t risk losing another one. Not only will he be failing his family, he’d fail Neteyam again, most of all.

Lo’ak slumps his shoulders, pushing past Jake. “This isn’t fair,” He mutters under his breath. Jake’s eyebrows knitted tightly and he knew damn well there was no going back from talking back to a parent. “You aren’t being fair– how could you ask us to standby?”

“I’m not asking, Lo’ak. It’s an order.”

“That’s even worse!” He shouts in reply and Jake is taken back.

There it is. The emotions desperate to claw out of their throats. If toughening them to an extent was a good thing, why was it biting him in the ass right now? Jake’s bottom lip quivered slightly. He didn’t need this– not now. He would’ve dealt with it properly, if it wasn’t for the situation at hand. Jake didn’t need his kids reminding him how he fucked up. He didn’t need another heartache when he had to toughen himself out.

“This isn’t the time for attitude, Lo’ak–” Jake exhales a deep breath, his eyes squinting as he clenches his jaw. He tries hard to keep himself in check, the last thing he wants is to lose his temper. Talk to them. Calmly. “You think I have the upperhand? Your sister needs me right now, what don’t you understand?”

“This would not have happened if you could just listen!”

“Well I’m here now, Lo’ak– just what do you have to say?” He stares back at him with an intensity that matches his own, voice slightly raised.

A million thoughts raced his mind. Will he blame him for bringing him here–? Here in awa’altu where they had to unlearn everything they have known– here in awa’atlu, away from his brother; but when silence had only replied to his outburst, he sighed wearily.

“Right now, we do not see eye to eye, boy.” His tone turns gentle, surprisingly. It causes Lo’ak to become rigid– unmoving as he takes in his father’s unfamiliar nature. The atmosphere shifted so somewhat awkward. Lo’ak only knew how to deal with his father’s anger. “And that’s on me. I know you blame me for being a shit father, and I want you to. I messed up and I keep messing up.”

“Then why can’t you be better?” He said so casually, like it was something Jake could accomplish with a flick of a switch, as if it was an easy task she simply hadn't put in enough effort for. But that was never the case.

Truthfully, he didn’t know what to answer. Didn’t want to tell his son that this was already his best. He liked to think that no father is perfect– eased him just a little knowing that there were far worse than him. But maybe he was no better.

When he knew that Neteyam’s eyes would never open again, he thought that hurt had hit the lowest of lows. But here he was, watching his son’s hateful gaze and had never been so wrong.

His ears flattened. “Stay here Lo’ak, please.”

Coward. Jake was a coward.

Lo'ak let out a frustrated scoff, quickly turning his head away and storming off in anger. He left the Marui so hastily that Jake was left alone with a crestfallen expression etched on his face. His expression was enough for Kiri to run after him, Tuk trailing behind. She jogged hastily, her breath catching in her throat as she eventually managed to match Lo'ak's pace.

“Lo’ak, they asked us to stay here.” Kiri tried to grasp on his wrist, only for him to retract harshly. They continued to walk towards the shore in an argument, “Lo’ak!”

“They have __, I’m going.” He continues to march towards his ilu, caressing its head in greeting while it mewls in return. “I’m not losing another one, Kiri. She’s my sister.”

Kiri grabs his hand, turning him around to face her sharply. Tuk’s head peeps to watch from behind her legs, “I’m your sister too! You’re scaring Tuk, just let them handle it.”

“What’s going on?” Ao’nung calls. Tsireya had heard of the commotion and immediately went to find Lo’ak and it was no surprise that he’d want to go after his parents.

“This is the sky people we’re talking about! The same people who–” He had exhaled loudly in frustration, his movements jerking and violent as he ran his hands through his braids repeatedly. His face contorts in stress and disbelief, and he yanks on his hair lightly, an attempt to shift the focus of his energy to something tangible instead of this hopelessness that has crept up on him.

“I have to be there.”

“Keep your skxawng ass here, I swear to Eywa.” But her threats fell on deaf ears as he continued to mount his ilu, spear in hand. He threw them one last glance before he sped away, leaving Kiri to call out his name.

Rotxo’s expression grew worried as he watched Lo’ak’s figure disappear amongst the vast spread of water. Forehead creased in concern as he looked around where everyone had been standing, “Are we supposed to let him?”

“Eywa, of course not.” She had clapped towards the Ilus, beckoning them to ride. “Let’s go, people.”

Life was simple back then.

Jake knew he had to pull on his weight, lengthen his patience, and learn fatherhood from scratch. He was far from perfect, but he was sure that even his best efforts would still be better than what his own father had done for him when it came to parenting. His old man had never been there for him in any sense of the word.

“Alright babygirl, your turn.” Jake beckons you to take Neteyam’s place as he lends you his bow.

“He’s gonna come out behind those big rocks,” Your father instructs. He grabs your arm and moves it just a bit higher, steadying your aim with his firm grip. “Slowly, steady. Watch your aim.” You squint your eyes, focusing your sight as the fish comes to sight, stuck between the current and the rocks. With a deep breath, you release your hold, striking it right through its body.

“Good job, sweetheart. Go get it!” He shouts, giving you a big smooch on the cheek as he pushes you to claim your hunt. You giggle, feeling absolutely proud.

As you and Neteyam proudly display the fish you have both caught, he watches with a big smile. “My mighty fishermen, now let’s go home and show mama.”

Bracelets were enough to make his kids happy back then; beads and trinkets he found along his hunts. They would keep it for years to come and Jake thought he had cracked the code. But the gifts turned to few and then none and the ones they kept had burned along the crossfire. He became stricter– tougher on them.

He knew being a marine best than a father.

When his children looked at him, it wasn’t of love— he wasn’t dense with how their shoulders stiffened around him. Jake thought it was a good thing, to keep them all in a straight line, for them to learn discipline early. But as they grew older, they were getting harder to reach and no amount of presents could make them come back.

“Lo’ak started it!” Your eyebrows were heavily knitted, fangs bared as you showed him the broken bracelet. You tightly held onto the beads, afraid that you’d lose more of it.

Your brother had immediately turned defensive, shoulders tense. “If you hadn’t been in the way, it would’ve been avoided!”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jake quickly interrupted you both, massaging his temples. “One night. One night without any of you bickering. You’re older, __, why can’t you be the bigger person?”

Your heart sank a little. You weren’t growing younger and so was your dad. Jake never took the time to craft, unlike before. The bracelet was from him and it would’ve made you feel better if he had listened.

“No more of this, you hear me? It’s just some stupid bracelet. Jesus Christ.”

Jake wasn’t perfect. He knows that– knows his children deserve better. He fears that when people ask them of him, they’d tell them how great of an olo’eyktan he is– how he fought against the sky-people, but never how he was as a father.

Your father loves you– loves everyone dearly. He would burn the whole world for his children– but the thing about fathers, they have an odd way of showing it.

As they finally near the large battleship, his hand pressed on the pager. “Babygirl, do you hear me?”

Your head perked up at the static coming from the pager discarded on the table right in front of you. Your body jerked against the binds desperately, “Yes, yes– sir I’m here!”

But he couldn’t hear you, not without you pressing on its button in return.

“If you’re listening, I’m coming, okay? Mama and I are coming to get you.”

You let out a stuttered breath, the beginnings of a sob bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you. It was no use anyway. You felt deflated as you sank down into your chair. Tears welled in your eyes, building itself up like a dam.

Jake anxiously waited on the other line, expecting to hear something back from you, but all he heard was the thump of his own racing heartbeat resonating in his ear as time seemed to stand still. His lips trembled as he softly spoke again, “I love you, kid. You know that, right?”

But you didn’t. You didn’t since everyone arrived at Awal’tu and for months, this was the first time you’ve heard of it again. It made your chest tighten in response, stomach knotting.

Oh Eywa, you missed your father. Missed him dearly.

This one time he had told you he had loved you. This one time where you needed to hear it the most and you couldn’t say it back. It’s true that your father had stopped being affectionate– but you’ve grown and stopped being as loving as you were as a kid too. You will always be your parent’s child– your daddy’s girl.

“I love you too.”

Life was so much simpler back then, and if Jake had just spoken to you, he may have figured out that his words had more value than any presents he could find. He fears that he might be too late.

“We have to split up.”

“Split up?” Kiri shouts incredulously, holding onto Tuk tightly.

“There are at least three ships here, she has to be in at least one of them.”

“We’ll take the one from the south,” Ao’nung says, Tsireya quickly trailing behind. Kiri groans, knowing she couldn’t do anything but follow. Roxto followed her as they all nodded to each other, speaking in unsaid terms. Be safe. Please.

Lo’ak trots ahead, letting out another eager yip as they make their way towards the distant ship far up north. You had to be on one of them. You had to.

As he stealthily moves through the area, searching every nook and cranny, Lo’ak is determined to find you, leaving no stone unturned nor any corners checked. The lack of people around was suspicious and it made the atmosphere more eerie. As he scanned every cell, his eyes caught a battered Na’vi, head hung low– you. Quickly, he broke down the door with heavy locks.

“Lo’ak!”

“__!” He immediately rushes to you, taking off the restraints with brute force. Without a second thought, you engulfed him in a hug, nearly pushing him off his feet while he frantically searched for any serious injury, eyes swiftly scanning the cuts on your skin. “We have to go now.”

Both of you hurriedly try to exit the ship, steps heavily thumping across the metal floors. It was silent. Too silent. Like there hadn’t been a war at all. The ship was quiet, other than the crashing waves and footsteps. Not to mention the lack of recoms surrounding the area, you grew more and more nervous. “Where’s dad? He’s–”

“On another ship, we have to go.” He pulled you closer the edge where his Ilu had been waiting,

“Lo’ak, we’re not leaving him, are we?”

“Dad can handle it, I’m only here to take you home. Now please, come with me–”

“I know you don’t want to leave him too.” his lips drew into a thin line in response, immediately growing silent. His heart was thumping wildly, knowing that the decision was his to make. “Lo’ak, we can’t leave him.”

“Fuck it. Let’s go.”

“Run– run, go!” Lo’ak's call was still echoing in your head as you sprinted, bullets whizzing past in all directions. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins as you darted and weaved throughout the area, momentarily hiding behind a steel wall.

Both of you had been searching for Jake and everyone but despite your best efforts, the only thing you were ever able to find was more trouble. What was supposed to be a relatively straightforward endeavor had quickly become an arduous task. You feared for your life and your brother’s.

“We have to jump now, __.” He pulls you out from your thoughts, panting heavily.

“We haven’t found dad yet or anyone– they could be in danger!”

“Listen, I’m not about to lose you in another dumb decision of mine. We’re going, do you understand?” He tugs on your wrists tightly. The look on his face told you that his decision wasn’t open for any negotiation anymore– this was about you and your safety. You offer a solemn nod, feeling a knot forming in your chest as your frown deepens.

As the shots come to an end, the avatars begin to disperse, frantically searching for both of you. Lo'ak forcefully pulls you to your feet and dashes towards the edge ready to take a leap, but the ship lets out a sharp screech as it leans further and further downwards into the vast ocean, both of you caught completely off guard. Water quickly rushes up to bathe the deck in a sea of white froth and foam, its relentless waves rocks the boat back and forth so harshly that you fall to your knees.

Lo’ak frantically looks around for something to hold onto, but it all happens too quickly; just as his hands latch onto a railing, it snaps and he begins to tumble along with the current and down an open trapdoor. He quickly holds on to its rusty edge, “__!”

You immediately slide towards him, grabbing his wrist. “I got you, just hang on.” While your other hand clutched your bloodied side, you groaned as you felt the skin surrounding it stretch, ripping more and more as you tried to hold on. “Lo’ak, please.”

“I can’t– I can’t!” Both your grips are loosening and you choked out a sob, feeling absolutely helpless. You could feel it– his fingers slowly slipping from your wrist. Your heart hammered on your chest as you extended your other hand.

“Brother please, grab my other hand,”

Another wave crashes towards both of you, and in that moment your grip on his wrist slips. You can feel the panic rise within you as you shout out his name desperately. His body falls, water completely engulfing him.

Without any hesitation, you jump down after him.

You hastily scramble out of the water, eyes wide and scanning the wreckage that surrounds you for any sign of Lo'ak. All around you there is nothing but the ship itself, pushing you down with it. It loudly creaks once again, the sound vibrating off the walls.

You try to regain your composure– breathing slowly and steadying the beat of your heart, only for it to race yet again as another body emerges from the water, coughing violently.

“Lo’ak–!”

“I can’t find an exit.” He says, breathing heavily.

“I’ll go check again, you stay here.” The water was already rising and your frantic state wasn’t helping.

you said as the water level began to climb higher and higher. Your frantic state wasn’t helping either of your cause, but there was no time to think of that now. In order for the two of you to make it out alive, one of you had to remain calm and focused. You had to be just that– the bigger person. The big sister Lo’ak needs right now.

“No! You’re bleeding, I’ll go look.” He protests and you both exchange banters.

“I am your older sister, Lo’ak, listen to me– just let me do this.”

“I don’t care. You’re hurt already.”

“Lo’ak, don’t be so stubborn right now.”

“I’m a better swimmer than you!”

“Why are you being so stubborn, just stay here–!”

“Just let me do this for you, Neteyam!”

And that stuns you both.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He croaks, the words barely escaping his trembling lips. His guilt is palpable in the air as he hangs his head low in shame, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that is threatening to choke him. Lo’ak had to let it out now. Now that you’re here– now that you and him might never come out alive. “Maybe if I didn’t insist on coming there, we would still be back at home– with him. Maybe if I didn’t force everyone to come along, he would not have the need to save us.”

“Lo’ak, please..”

“But I did– I did, and now he’s gone. I lost him and I can’t lose you too,” You stayed there, like the water surrounding you was anchoring you on that very spot. You could only stare at him as he poured his every guilt. Your heart ached for Lo’ak– Lo’ak, your baby brother. Lo’ak who tried so desperately to be seen. “It’s my fault, __. I was just so jealous– so jealous that I forced you to join in because maybe then, you’d want to spend time with me too. I wanted what you had with Neteyam, what Kiri was to Tuk.”

“But I miss him, I miss my brother so bad.” Lo’ak continues to weep, tugging on his hair– hurting himself. “I hate that my body didn’t move towards you– towards him that night. Maybe then, I would’ve said goodbye. Maybe then, I would’ve told him I was sorry.”

You slowly swam to him, awkwardly taking his hands. Siblings were such a funny concept. They could say the harshest, most meanest thing– hurt you to an extent because they know you more than anyone else. But they would do anything– absolutely anything, just to keep you safe. Hell, would give a kidney if it means that you’d live. You miss Neteyam, terribly so, but does losing him make you less of a sister?

“I’m sorry, __. I’m sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but every time you looked at me, all I could see was him. I miss Neteyam. I miss home. I want to go home.”

“We’re going home, okay?” You pull him close in your arms, burying your head on the curve of his neck as you try to contain a sob. “I see you, brother.”

“I’ve been nothing but difficult.” You feel his breath hitch as he tries to steady his breathing, heartbeat slowing down. “I don’t like how everyone has become since he died.”

“Me too, Lo’ak. Me too.” You whisper, rubbing circles on his back. “I’m so sorry. I’m here now.”

As the two of you hold each other tightly, the water continues to rise around you with no sign of relenting. You both know that it will only be a matter of time until this ship finally gives in to its fate and sinks beneath the surface yet neither of you want to let go. There was something comforting with having Lo’ak near now that he had spoken of his troubles– something light.

“We’re going home.”

This was it, you thought, this is the end.

☆ mauve here! i know this has been long overdue ;( BUT FINALLY, IT'S HERE. don't really know if i should be adding another chapter or just stop with an open ending hahah hopefully this was painful enough because my brain is bleeding and i can't wait to start another series. -

please tell me how i did! i really enjoy interacting w my moots nd readers ;( it's like a reward (ALSO i'm sorry if i forgot to tag someone! some of the names don't really pop up too ;(

smooch!

tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnger @abbersreads @historygeekqueen @anxietydrogz @kau7itz @winxschester @1mawh0re @thefirst-ofus @tsoomie @wheeeelys @lunamhm565i @ayanelisa @sully-stick-together @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @jackiehollanderr @dreamsholdpowers @aimsro @violilaqrs

#mauve writes ☆#family angst #family feels #sully family x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #angst #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #jake sully #reader!sully

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thecoleopterawithana · 6 months

Text

Now and Then

1977

youtube

Now and Then: I know it's true / It's all because of you

And if I make it through / It's all because of you / And now and then / If we must start again / Well, we will know for sure / That I love you

I don't wanna lose you, oh no / Abuse you or confuse you / Oh no, no, sweet darlin' / But if you have to go away / If you have to go, well you the reason [?]

Now and then / I miss you / Oh, now and then / I want you to return to me / 'Til you return to me / I know it's true / It's all because of you / And if you go away / I know you could never stay

1978

youtube

Love Awake: Love awake to the day / When we can make our love awake / Lord knows we need it any time we can get it / But we forget it every now and then / But if you don't feel it, later on, you'll regret it / And if we let it we could set it free, you and me

1981

youtube

My Old Friend: If I told you how I feel / Oh, it wouldn’t sound so real / ‘Cause emotions, they are just now settin’ in / But it sure is great to know / That wherever we may go / We can always be the best of friends

My old friend, / Thanks for inviting me in / My old friend, / May this goodbye never mean the end / If we never meet again this side of life / In a little while, over yonder, / Where it’s peace and quiet / My old friend, / Won’t you think about me every now and then

Well, it was something that I’ll never live long enough to forget. It happened in February of 1981 and as the world all knows, and never will forget, in December of 1980 when John Lennon was taken away from us, and so this was the following year, in February. I wrote the song about and for Paul McCartney. I did it because he was so kind to invite me down to this beautiful island of Montserrat with Stevie Wonder. Ringo was there, just had a wonderful time. I flew down by myself. Paul and Linda met me with a jeep on the (center) airfield with a little single engine plane and took me across the mountains we were like kids again, and it was a wonderful time, and I wanted to do… I didn’t want to cry when I left after staying down there, and I’m a big crybaby! If something moves me, I’ll just choke up… I talk about it. I thought that would happen, so the night before, I just wrote how I felt on the isle of Montserrat on every shell, forget a country boy with a guitar and a song you invited me, and you treated me like kin, and you’ve given me a reason to go on. So my old friend, think about me every now and then. I sang it for Paul, at about 10:00 the next morning. I was scheduled to leave flying again in the little single engine aircraft to the island of Antigua where I was flying commercial back to Atlanta and on to Nashville and back to Jackson, where I live here. I sang it, he said “Carl, it’s beautiful… would you sing it again?” and I said. “Sure, man.” He said “wait just a minute,” and he got Linda in there, and they sat on the floor, I sat on his old Fender twin reverb amplifier, with a guitar, I did however notice a microphone over there. I didn’t pay that much attention to it, but George Martin recorded it and after I finished singing the song to Paul, he was crying, tears were rolling down his pretty cheeks, and they’re pretty to me just like they are to the rest of the world. I think he’s a very handsome boy and always did. He’s even handsomer when he’s crying. And Linda said, “Carl, thank you so much.” I said, “Linda, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She said, “But he’s crying and he needed to. He hasn’t been able to really break down since that happened to John.” I mean he stepped outside of the room, out by the pool, and he just had his handkerchief out, and he was going at it. And she put her arm around me and said, “But how did you know?” I said, “Know what, Linda? I don’t know what you’re talking about?” She said “There’s two people in the world that know what John Lennon said to Paul, the last thing he said to him. Me and Paul are the only two that know that, but now there’s three and one of you… you know it. I said, “Girl, you’re freaking me out! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She said the last words that John Lennon said to Paul in the hallway of the Dakota building were… he patted him on the shoulder, and said, ‘Think about me every now and then, old friend.’ Q: That’s just amazing… And she said, here you are, that’s what you just sang, and how did you know? And I said I didn’t know it, gosh, I didn’t know it. But McCartney really feels that Lennon sent me that song, he really does.

— Carl Perkins, interviewed for Goldmine (September 26, 1986).

1994

Paul had gone to Yoko to ask if she had any of John’s songs kicking around. The deal was that Paul would induct John into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in return. Yoko’s a generous person in that respect, so she actually gave him three songs – 'Free As A Bird' and 'Real Love' were worked up and released, the last one wasn’t.

— Source close to the Anthology project, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).

1995

It was one day – one afternoon, really – messing with it. The song had a chorus but is almost totally lacking in verses. We did the backing track, a rough go that we really didn’t finish. It was sort of a bluesy sort of ballad, I suppose, in A minor. It was a very sweet song. I liked it a lot. Should it ever be completed it would probably end up as either ‘Now And Then’ or ‘Miss You’. I wished we could have finished it.

— Jeff Lynne, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).

It didn’t have a very good title, it needed a bit of reworking, but it had a beautiful verse and it had John singing it. [But] George didn’t like it. The Beatles being a democracy, we didn’t do it.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for Q Magazine (November 2006).

2007

There are a couple of things which may surface at some point. You see, with the Beatles, there’s always a surprise somewhere along the line. We did ‘Free As A Bird’ and ‘Real Love’, those two songs of John’s, and that was very exciting, very moving for me and very comfortable having his voice in my headphones in the studio again. And there was a third track, another song we had our eyes on called ‘Now And Then’. l actually wanted to do it on Anthology 3, but we didn’t all agree. But things change and the thing is that it might not go away. There was only one of us who didn’t want to do it. lt would have meant a lot of hard work, the song would have needed a lot of re-writing and people would have had to be very patient with us. But there are these one or two things lurking in the bushes. The Beatles might just raise their ugly little heads again…

— Paul McCartney, quoted in the Sunday Express (April 29, 2007).

2012

And there was another one we started working on, but George went off it. We were like, ‘No George, this is John’. He said, ‘It’s still rubbish’. ‘Ok, then’. So that one is still lingering around. I’m gonna nick it with Jeff and do it. Finish it, one of these days.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for the “Mr Blue Sky: The Story of Jeff Lynne & ELO” documentary (2012).

2018

youtube

Get Enough: It was a time when we walked by the docks / I told you, "I need you all of my life" / And watching the tugs rolling by together / Do you remember? / Do you remember the lights on the shore? / How they reflected the rain on the road? / I believed that you love me alone / It was real / Do you remember? / Now and then I see your face / I've been wanting a lovin’ embrace / I've been looking for love, but it gets me nowhere / Oh, yeah, yeah

Get enough, get enough, get enough of (Your love) (x2) / I can't get enough of / Of you

It was a time we were all full of hope / Saw the future burning bright / As we watched the moon rollin’ out to sea / Do you remember? / But those days are erased from my mind / Yeah, I've left all those old days behind / But still I remember your face forever, forever

If I'm going to see a face in a painting, it's highly likely to be his.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Diane Sawyer for ABC News (November 2, 2000).

2022

And then 'Now and Then’ just kind of languished in a cupboard and we didn’t do anything with it. I kept saying, “You know, maybe we should do something with this, seems a bit—” “Hm, I don’t know…” There wasn’t a great desire to do anything with it. So it hung around for a while. Years! And every so often, I’d kind of go to the cupboard and think, “There’s a new song in there! We should do it! We gotta do it!” But it’d go back in the cupboard.

— Paul McCartney, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).

I got a phone call from Paul saying, “Is it possible to use that [MAL] technology for another project I’ve been thinking about? […] Would it be possible to take John’s vocal and clean it up and get rid of everything else? Because that would allow us to finish this Beatles song.” And absolutely, it didn’t take me more than about a second to get back to him and say, “Of course we can do it!”

— Peter Jackson, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).

2023

youtube

Now and Then: I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if I make it through / It’s all because of you

And now and then / If we must start again / Well we will know for sure / That I will love you

Now and then / I miss you / Oh now and then / I want you to be there for me / Always to return to me

I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if you go away / I know you’ll never stay

Now and then / I miss you / Oh now and then / I want you to be there for me

I know it’s true / It’s all because of you / And if I make it through / It’s all because of you

I do feel as though ‘Now and Then’ is a love letter to Paul written by John. I mean, I've never really asked Paul about it, and I'm not sure whether Paul would say, ‘Oh, that's definitely it,' because he wouldn't want to second guess John. But that's the sense I get. And I get the feeling that's why Paul was so determined to finish it.

— Giles Martin, interviewed for PEOPLE magazine (October 26, 2023).

When you say you enjoy 'Now and Then', that’s really nice, because that’s why we do it. We do it so people can listen to stuff and not just hear it. 'Now and Then' sounds like a love song. It sounds like a song that John wrote for Paul, and the other Beatles: “I miss you/ Now and then.” It sounds like Paul has gone there, which I think he did. You know, no one told Paul to go and do it, and Paul didn’t go, This would be a great exercise for the Red and Blue Album. He was at home in the studio. He dug on the record and started working on it, because it’s his mate. And he really misses John. I mean, that’s the truth. They broke up, and John died nine years later. It really isn’t very long.

— Giles Martin, interviewed for GRAMMYS (October 26, 2023).

When I remember the Beatles, I remember the joy, the talent, the humor, the love. And I think, if people remembered us for that — for those things — I’d be very happy.

— Paul McCartney, in BBC Sounds Eras: The Beatles (November 2, 2023).

#(I just wanted to gather it all in one place)#Now and Then #The Beatles #John Lennon #Paul McCartney #Love Awake #My Old Friend #Get Enough #the person I actually picked as my partner #then you were here today #For you were in my song #Compilation #my stuff #That Paul and John business

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tetragonia · 20 days

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Midnight Repair Shop

John "Bucky" Egan x Female!Mechanic!Reader

Blurb: In the middle of the night, accompanied with the choruses of men from the Officer’s pub afar, Bucky saw the hangar light was on. He peeked and found Jerry to his Tom—(Y/N), one of the mechanics whose side job apparently was to annoy him. It was that one time when Bucky and (Y/N) repaired not only the plane, but somehow their whole dynamics all these months.

warning: inaccuracies especially with the mechanical terms because I'm not used to them and just looked em up from the internet. also, maybe weird phrasing or grammatical incorrect since English is not my first language. pls let me know what I could do better <3

note: pure fluff and giggles, some arguments but all is good with our Bucky. this is my first mota fic out there and why shouldn't i choose our antic Bucky as the main character? ;) also, this is based on the portrayal of the actors from Masters of the Air. all respect to the veterans and family

words: 3160 (sorry!)

It was a sunny day as the sun was casting a golden hue over Thorpe Abbotts, the distant hum of aircraft engines signaled the approach of returning fighter planes. Among them was Major John Egan–”it’s just me, Bucky’s fine”–his B-17 streaking through the sky and leading the squadron. It was not an easy mission, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. The route was clear and the enemy’s cover was minimum.

With steady hands, Bucky guided his aircraft toward the runway as his eyes scanned the horizon for any signs of trouble. The roar of the engine filled the cockpit as he made minute adjustments to his altitude and speed, preparing for the critical moment of touchdown.

As the wheels of his B-17 made contact with the tarmac, Bucky maneuvered and smoothly brought it to a stop with. The plane rolled to a halt, its engine purring contentedly as Bucky taxied toward the waiting ground crew.

You were one of the ground crews, a skilled mechanic around the base. People knew your work ethic and they damn respected you out of it. And that clearly gave some benefits around here.

“Back from another joyride, Major?”

You emphasized the rank as Bucky made his way out from the cockpit. His flight suit was slightly disheveled, his hair was a bit scruffy but his smile was as bright as the summer sun. Brady jumped out, his eyes scanned you and Bucky.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Capt,” you tilted your chin and raised your eyebrows slightly to acknowledge his presence.

“Joyride?” Bucky pulled your attention back at him. “More like a death-defying adventure, (Y/N). You know, I like to keep things exciting.”

“That ain’t exciting, bud,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Let’s see what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”

You wasted no time inspecting the plane, your expert eye quickly picking up on any signs of damage. Still locking your eyes to the plane, you said, “I swear, Bucky, if next time you come back with another dent in your plane, I’m going to start charging you for the repairs. And trust me, it ain’t cheap.”

“Did you just threaten me?” he let out a dramatic gasp, putting his hand in front of his chest. “You know, I think I’m starting to rub off on you. After all, it truly takes a special kind of person to keep up with a pilot like me.”

Your hands ran through the plane’s body, bullet holes were scattered and some flak damages were tattooed to the metal skin. You suspected there were some engine reduction from the enemy’s fire, as well as control surface damage.

“You’re not the only one keeping me busy. I have plenty of other pilots crashing their planes too, creating these cute little bends and missing some rivets,” you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes again.

“You know, (Y/N), I’m starting to think you have a thing for me crashing. How else do you explain always being there to fix up my messes?” still in his dramatic tone, he raised an eyebrow at you.

You turned your head to him, trying to mimic his dramatic gasp earlied, “Oh my God! Weird thing is, I can’t imagine having this thing called a job! Have you ever heard of that?”

You lost count on rolling your eyes at him. He laughed faintly and started to walk away from you.

“Hey, (Y/N), if I had a penny for every time you gave me that look of disapproval, I’d have enough to buy myself a damn new plane. One that doesn’t need fixing every time I fly it.”

“Spare your voice for the interrogation, Bucky, you’re just talking shit right now,” you said dismissively. You could hear his ragged breath from your place, that man clearly needed to at least have a good hot chow.

“Ouch, that stings.”

Despite your dismissive tone, you couldn’t help but to let a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As the darkness draped itself over Thorpe Abbotts like a heavy cloak, the Officer's pub emerged as a sanctuary of warmth and light. The air was buzzing with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, faint laughters could be heard from afar. Bucky Egan was bathed in a warm, golden light from the row of lanterns that lined the walls. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling above him, their darkened surfaces reflecting the soft glow of the fire roaring in the hearth.

Around the room, Bucky found himself gathered at wooden tables with other airmen as the air was thick with the scent of pipe tobacco and the familiar aroma of alcohol, mingling with the lively strains of a piano being played in the corner.

“I don’t know, man. You seem pretty tipsy already,” Buck Cleven shook his head with a chuckle when Bucky offered to buy them another round of drinks. “I don’t want you stumbling into any trouble, you know.”

Hearing what his buddy said, Bucky laughed. “Me? Trouble? Com on, Buck, you know me better than that. I can handle myself just fine! Look at this.”

Bucky tried to jump from his seat to buy another round, but then he stumbled and let the men laugh as he landed in a weird position.

“Alright, alright,” he said, laughing with them too. He was just too damn charming to be ashamed, it’s alarming.

“No more drinks,” Bucky said, God knows to Buck or to himself.

“No more drinks,” Buck hummed the same chorus. Bucky laughed, shook his head faintly.

“I’m gonna head back,” he eventually reached a decision. “And I don’t want any of you to take me, feel like flying solo tonight. ‘Kay?”

“Sure, Bucky, whatever you want,” Brady laughed as he sipped his glass. With that, Bucky stumbled out into the cool night air, leaving the sounds of laughter and conversation that faded behind him. He took a deep breath, the crisp night air helped him clearing his muddled mind as he made his unsteady steps back to his barrack.

Humming sporadic notes from Bing Crosby, he noticed a faint flickering light shined through the windows from a hangar nearby with its door ajar. Curious, and perhaps a little tipsy, he decided to investigate.

Who the hell works at this hour, he thought to himself. With a curious tilt of his head, he veered off course, his feet guiding him toward the source of lights. Peeking a bit, he was greeted by the sight of your back, working on his plane.

Bucky sauntered in, his flight jacket slung over one shoulder, a cocky grin plastered across his face. He squinted against the sudden brightness, his eyes struggling to adjust to the harsh contrast after the darkness outside. Blinking rapidly, he stumbled forward, laughing at his own stupidity. And he might or might not realize that he always felt way more stupid around you, throwing all those flirts and banters like a loony.

“Hey there, (Y/N)! Patching up the old birds, are we?” Bucky slurred slightly.

You turned your head at him, still on your workbench raising an eyebrow at Bucky’s disheveled appearance.

“Looks like someone had a bit too much to drink tonight,” you made a remark as you continued working gunning the rivets. “Too much liquid courage at the pub?”

Bucky chuckled, he leaned against a nearby box for support. “Liquid courage? More like liquid genius! But hey, I couldn’t resist the chance to see your pretty face before I hit the hay.”

Bucky grinned stupidly at your back as he heard you replied monotonously, “Oh lucky me. The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.”

He laughed at your dry response, stepped in. “Nah, just needed a little pick-me-up after a long day of saving the world. You know how it is.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile at Bucky’s antics. You’ve gotten used to all that now, working side by side for a couple months.

“Yeah, yeah, the brave pilot routine. I’ve heard it all before. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”

As Bucky watched you expertly finish tinkering the body, you couldn’t help but admire your skill and determination. God knows since when you had worked on his plane today!

He leaned against the nearby workbench, his grin widening. “It’s your touch that keeps her purring, (Y/N). Without you, she’d be just another hunk of metal gathering dust.”

You rolled your eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, flyboy. You’re not fooling anyone with your smooth talk.”

“Hey, I’m just stating facts!”

“Yeah, and Hitler’s a good man. Now do me a favor, hand me the rivet gun over there,” you asked, tilting your head to the tool box.

Your hand brushed with his as he handed you the rivet gun. The wind suddenly swirled around the hangar and you shuddered at the chills down your spine. You took the gun swiftly and placed it over the exposed end of the rivet shaft. You securely fastened patches of those new aluminum sheets metal onto the wing, covering the bullet holes.

You’d been fixing the engine with Ken all day, finished just before the curfew. To clear your mind, you decided to fix the panels tonight as you asked Ken to get a hot chow. After some good arguments thrown from you, Ken gave up and walked away.

And here you were, in the hangar with the famous Bucky Egan. You’d been working with him for months, yet you didn’t know if he made all those compliments and flattery to other women as well. There weren’t any female mechanics around here and you knew he had his own way with women.

Flattery didn’t get him anywhere, but it got you somewhere.

You decided to break the silence, “You know, Bucky, I’m starting to think you pilots have a secret competition to see who can wreck their plane the most. Am I right?”

To hide whatever feelings that tried to surface, you put your familiar mask–strict, to the point, and sometimes a bit offensive. That way, you could protect yourself.

“Am clearly the best,” from the corner of your eyes, you could see him nodded and smiling. Suddenly it was so infuriating, how smiley he always was, how cheerful and friendly he was to you. How easy he was to throw compliments, and how easy he was to look at her with such adoration.

“Yeah, I've always thought you were a great pilot. Shame you're not quite as good at keeping your plane in one piece.”

You were unable to keep your feelings now. It was bottled up all this time. You were tired, hungry, and thirsty. You were vulnerable.

“Hey, hey, now,” Bucky might be a bit drunk but he wasn’t stupid. Something in the air shifted, your tone was harsh. Too harsh for his liking and your own good. Your tone was aggressive and he felt like you tried to hurt him with your remarks. Usually, they were all harmless, he even found you funny. But what was with the sudden change of tone?

“Come on, now. Why do you always pick on me?” Bucky tried to remain calm.

Forgot being calm! You were raging all of sudden. “Why would I pick on you, stop being so full of yourself.”

That’s it. That was the last straw.

“Hey, that stings!” Bucky was flustered, he walked closer to you, gaze piercing your back.

You sighed. You’re tired. You’ve been working all day and haven’t eaten since 8 am. It’s somewhere over 12 am now.

Fuck, you muttered to yourself. You need to shape the replacement panels to match the contours of the wing’s surface before riveting them. You got up and walked to the sheet metal bender, but Bucky stopped you.

With the faint hangar light on top of you both, now Bucky could fully take a look at your current state. You knew you looked terrible.

“Okay, you need to stop,” Bucky sighed. “Go to your barrack. You need to sleep.”

“I need to work.”

“She can wait. I’ll ask Lemmons to patch her up early in the morning,” Bucky said, his voice was authoritative. “Now, let’s get you some sleep.”

“No,” you tried to walk to the metal bender but his grip was strong.

“Come on, or I’m gonna abduct you.”

You almost rolled your eyes at that, but he quickly swept you off the ground. “Hey! Put me down!”

Despite the serious and cold air surrounding you both earlier, you could see how Bucky giggled. You always acted all tough, but you were just a girl for him. Your strength couldn’t even match him.

She’s cute, you didn’t know Bucky thought that right now.

He thought this was all just a joke, your mind stated.

“Nah, I’ll put you on your bed myself.”

You huffed in frustration, your attempts to free yourself only serving to make Bucky hold on tighter. "This isn't funny, Bucky! Put me down right now!"

But before Bucky could respond, his foot caught on a stray toolbox lying on the floor, sending you both tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs. With a yelp of surprise, you landed on top of him, your bodies pressed together in an awkward and unexpected embrace.

For a moment, you lay there in stunned silence, the only sound filling the air was the pounding of your hearts.

With a stupid grin on his face, Bucky smiled surprisingly sweetly, “Hello.”

As the realization of your predicament sunk in, your cheeks flushed crimson, maybe with anger or maybe with something else.

"Are you kidding me, Bucky?" you exclaimed, pushing yourself off him with a scowl. "I told you to put me down!"

Bucky winced while grinning sheepishly, rubbing his head where it had collided with the floor. He was fully sober now, thanks for the thud. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I didn't mean for us to fall."

You crossed your arms over your chest, your expression still stormy. "Well, it's not funny. You could have seriously injured yourself. You’re one of the best pilots we’ve got, what would happen if you got hurt?!"

Bucky sighed, his earlier amusement fading as he met your angry gaze. He got up, walked a step closer to you.

"You need to be worried about yourself. What is it, (Y/N)? You’re not usually this… tensed. Is something bothering you?”

Bucky put his hand on your shoulder. You stiffened at his touch, jerking away as if scalded.

"I'm fine," you snapped, your tone once again sharp and defensive.

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, hurt flickering in his eyes. "Hey, I was just asking. You don't have to bite my head off."

You didn’t want to meet his gaze. Your eyes wandered to the floor that suddenly became so interesting.

But you knew that Bucky wasn't about to let you off the hook that easily. "I don't buy it, (Y/N). You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

You scoffed, rubbed your eyes slowly, “It’s nothing.”

“Hey, tell me,” Bucky now grabbed your arms and once again you stiffened at his gesture. You looked up as your gaze fell to his, eyes blinked rapidly. Your cheeks flushed as you once again broke eye contact and looked at the new interesting thing: the metal bender.

And a realization hit Bucky like a lightning. The way you laughed or rolled your eyes at his jokes despite being known as a serious fella, the way you looked at him before he took off, the way you always kept some distance…

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice softened. “I’ve never been this straightforward, but we don’t have much time… Do you like me?”

He could feel your muscles tensed under his touch. You still refused to look at him.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Where did the tough, no-nonsense (Y/N) go?

“Hey, (Y/N), look at me,” Bucky asked you gently. He knew for sure that you held a feeling for him and he was too damn stupid to realize. He tried so hard to suppress his smile.

You looked up, his expression was soft and his eyes fixed on you with a gleam that made the butterflies crazy inside your stomach. You thought about every possible reaction: rejections, lots of yelling, a broken respect and trust, no more jokes and friendships… But you didn’t expect when he leaned closer and brought you in, when his lips touched yours with a gentleness you could only imagine.

Bucky’s lips tasted like a good amount of mint and alcohol mixture. You were intoxicated. He put his hand on your hip, the other caressed your cheek. His touch was a gentle yet firm anchor, drawing you closer to him in a silent declaration of desire. Your fingers traced the curves of your hips with a tender reverence, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you melted into his embrace.

He’d never imagine touching you, grabbing your crinkled jumpsuit as he kissed you deeper, his hands wandered. You felt a rush of warmth spreading through your body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t ignore. His hands, strong and sure from years of training, held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His touch was both possessive and protective all at once.

When you both pulled away, trying to catch a breath, you saw Bucky smiling. His hands were still on your hips, now the right one stroke your cheek and your lips.

"You know, (Y/N), I've always admired you. The way you always know your way around an engine, your work ethic, your remarks, your replies to my jokes… I've always thought you were pretty amazing,” he whispered. “The way you handle those machines... it's something else. That’s why I always send my plane to you."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at the unexpected compliments, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. You were anything but flushed and fluttered.

"Well, I guess someone has to keep you flyboys in the air. Can't have you crashing and burning without us, right? You better treat her right up there or I'll make sure your next landing isn't so smooth."

Bucky grinned, feeling a surge of confidence after a heavy cloud towering you both earlier.

"Hey, what do you say we had a drink tomorrow? I’d like to discuss tonight's matter, after you had a good rest of course.”

Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with Bucky outside of work. You were exhausted, but after what happened tonight, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep.

"I suppose one drink couldn't hurt. But don't think this means I'm going easy on you, Bucky. I've got a reputation to uphold, after all."

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xoxobuckybarnes · 3 months

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January 2024 Stucky Fics

Completed

The Things We Hide (Rated: E, Words: 109K) by ThePirateStorm / @fsbc-librarian

Summary: Bucky looked at Steve. Steve carefully did not look at Bucky. “You didn’t tell him?” Becca asked, pausing in the doorway. Steve shook his head. “He only just got here. Besides, I thought you would have told him over the phone,” Steve grumbled, now also carefully not looking at Becca. “He is also standing right the fuck here,” Bucky snapped. “In case you both forgot.” “Steve,” Bucky started, quietly, purposely not looking at either of them now. “Why is Becca your doctor?” Neither Steve nor Becca answered him. Bucky looked up. Becca was watching Steve, who was staring intently at a wrinkle in the sheet covering the bed he was sitting on. “Why is Becca your doctor right now?” He asked again, more forcefully, this time looking to his sister. “And why are we in the fucking family rooms?” ***** Steve’s a marathon runner. He’s still friends with his ex-alpha, his life revolves around training, work, and Bucky, his best friend. He’s also 6 months pregnant and he doesn’t know who the sire is. If he ignores his problems, they’ll go away, right?'

Wanna Be Your End Game (Rated: E, Words: 23K) by KirkApologist

Summary: "Brooklyn, baby!" Bucky types up an Instagram post. "It was so great to be home. Y’all were the best crowd I could’ve asked for on the last night of the US tour. I’m going to miss the hell out of all of you. Get ready, Italy! I’m coming for you next month. And @StevenGrantRogers - my DMs are open. Ball’s in your court - er, zone? 🏈" Before he can second-guess himself, Bucky attaches a few photos from the concert and hits post. Then promptly tosses his phone away as if burned by it. * The one where Bucky's a world-famous popstar, and Steve is the NFL player who sweeps him off his feet.

young hearts, out our minds (Rated: T, Words: 2K) by junko (orphan_account) / @ladydent

Summary: Bucky posts a selfie of the two of them in bed to his instagram. He hashtags it #goodmorningamerica. Sam Wilson and Pepper Potts retweet it to their twitter accounts.

a question of expertise (Rated: E, Words: 2K) by mwestbelle / @villainsexuale & Fancomic by piumpoetam / @pium-poetam

Summary: Steve has criteria for losing his virginity. Bucky knows somebody who meets them.

The Long Way: A Stucky Fancomic (Rated: T) by BeaArthurPendragon / @beaarthurpendragon & LittleWolf82

Summary: After Thanos is defeated, Steve doesn't stay in the past. This is the story of where he and Bucky go next. Seven pages. Posting complete.

A Trace of All That Was (Rated: M, Words: 36K) by leavinghope

Summary: Bucky Barnes has to deal with the pain of watching Steve Rogers leave and return as an old man. Sam Wilson has to learn how to become Captain America when he had not asked for the role. How could they both have been so wrong about Steve? How could the man they both thought they knew have let them down so completely?

Lost But Found (Rated: T, Words: 2K) by innerslumber / @innerslumber

Summary: Bucky shrugged Steve's hand off his shoulder and tried to get up but his legs wouldn’t co-operate. His whole body felt heavy with random bursts of pain shooting through his synapses. The interior lights were too bright and while the quinjet was quieter than almost anything except a Wakandan aircraft, it still emanated noises that his super soldier ears could pick up. It was all too much. Bucky curled his body toward the wall and tried to make himself as small as possible. “Bucky-” “No, Steve,” Bucky groaned, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t do this right now.”

Joker in the Pack (Rated: G, Words: 9K) by Ginny_Potter / @hipsterdiva

Summary: “Shut up,” Bucky mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning the back of his head against the bricks. “You’re jinxin’ it. C’m on, deal. I’ll know if you cheat.” “I never cheat,” Steve says, a smile already creeping up, anticipating Bucky’s reaction. Bucky snorts. “Like hell, you don’t.” Or, Steve and Bucky team cheating at cards, 1922 to 1945.

Barnes & Rogers and the Goddamn Truth (Rated: NR, Words: 18K)

Summary: There are three well-known facts at Shield High: 1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other. Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

Crack My Back Like a Glowstick (Rated: T, Words: 1K) by moodymelanist / @moodymelanist

Summary: Actors Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes read thirst tweets to promote their latest film.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead (Rated: M, Words: 22K) by pollutedstar

Summary: “…there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is, except for the birds.” In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.E.I.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

look what you do to me (making me love you) (Rated: E, Words: 13K) by burning_brighter / @burnin-brighter & art by Reagy_Jay / @reagi-df

Summary: “Oh, you like this, don’t you?” Steve says, though it doesn’t really sound like a question at all. There’s an underlying threat in his voice, something almost dangerous, almost animalistic, and a smile spreads on his face when he sees Bucky shudder again. “Yeah you do.” Steve takes a step towards him, and he’s still so far away, but Bucky finds it hard to breathe anyway. The air around him feels heavy, tense, and he doesn’t know what to do. “Shut up,” Bucky mumbles, but he doesn’t deny it. He can’t really, because Steve is right, he is, and Bucky hates it. ———— After a failed mission, Steve and Bucky find themselves in a safehouse, where tensions run high and a lot of things come to light. When everything is said and done, it’s unclear where they stand and where their relationship – both personal and professional – is headed, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. Bucky has only one thing on his mind: to find out what happened on their mission.

put you on something new (Rated: E, Words: 13K) by howdoyousleep / @howdoyousleep3 & the1918 / @the1918

Summary: “What? Y’never suck a dick before, Rogers?” Steve can’t even stop the hysterical bubble of overcompensated laughter that escapes out his open mouth. It’s loud and such an extreme reaction that Steve can’t take back, makes his cheeks heat right back up. He shuffles on his feet, bounces on the balls of them a few times, has another round of giggles as he chugs the rest of his beer. “N-nah, I...fuck, yeah no I haven’t really—�� --- Steve's fraternity throws a kegger. The star of the football team shows up.

Birthday Wishes (Rated: E, Words: 6K) by Graendoll

Summary: Steve Rogers has made the same birthday wish for almost a decade. The wish has gotten more explicit since he and Bucky started living together.

No One Wants Your Opinion (Rated: E, Words: 5K) by thepinupchemist

Summary: Wherein Bucky loves to cuddle Steve Rogers, Steve comes out on national television for the sole purpose of spiting conservative politicians, Tony sees things he wishes he hadn't, and Pepper doesn't know why she even bothers.

WIP

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) (Rated: E, Current Words: 93K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary

Summary: The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road? A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky fix-it as part of the all-American road trip, detours included.

twelve twenty-five (Rated: E, Current Words: 40K) by burning_brighter / @burnin-brighter

Summary: “I have to say,” Winifred says, a mug of cocoa in her hands. “When you say you were bringing someone home, I thought you meant you were bringing a boyfriend. But I’m glad you brought Steve.” “Who says I’m not?” Bucky teases, laughing when Steve lets out an exasperated groan. “You two finally got your respective head out of your respective ass?” asks George, looking at Steve and Bucky intently. “No,” Steve says pointedly, “Bucky just thinks he’s so funny.” - Ever since they met, everyone assumed it was just a matter of time before Steve and Bucky became a thing. Ten years later and it has yet to happen. But when Bucky invites Steve to spend the holidays with him and his family in upstate New York, things start to change.

Every Me and Every You (Rated: M, Current Words: 23K) by deadto27 / @deadto27

Summary: Bucky Barnes is doing his best. He’s getting by after the blip, after Sam became Captain America, after Steve…well, it’s best he doesn’t think about that. The point is, his life is different now, and he’s trying his best. He just wishes the hollow feeling in his chest would go away. —– Bucky gets blinded by a bright light as the tear seems to implode in on itself and there’s an odd little jolt as the pulling stops, and then Bucky’s blinking, trying to get his vision right again as he loosens his grip on America. “You okay?” he checks, still squinting. He’s probably not blind, he thinks. It just feels like it right now. “I’m okay,” America tells him and he sees her nod shakily as his vision starts to clear, and he carefully lets go of her, seeing that she can support herself, hands pressing onto the floor next to her. “Uh…I don’t think I am,” says another voice, and Bucky turns his head so fast he might give himself whiplash. Because he knows that voice. He knows that voice better than any other voice on the planet and he’s missed that voice, so, so much.

#Stucky #Steve and Bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #fanfic #XOXOBUCKYBARNES' Stucky Fic Reading List #january reading list

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musingsofahistorymajor · 2 months

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If you don't follow the 100th Bomb Group Foundation on Facebook then you are missing out on some great historical information associated with Masters of the Air. The one post of theirs that really hit close for me was this one:

"Sammy, better known as Sam Hurry, played by Alfie Tempest. Sam Hurry grew up near Thorpe Abbotts and was a frequent visitor to the 351st Bomb Squadron. “On the base, I was unofficially adopted by the American servicemen who welcomed me,” he wrote. “They shared a variety of experiences and insights broader than the small village school could provide.” Sam was also allowed to assist with various jobs on base including washing down dispersal points after an aircraft left for a mission. “The hardstand was covered with 100-octane aviation fuel,” Sam recalled, “and we would be given a lighted rag to throw onto the concrete which immediately burst into flames, burning all the oil and grease off and leaving the area clean and ready for the aircraft to return.” The time after the Hundredth departed in 1945 was hard for Sam. “The silence was unnerving,” he wrote, “the atmosphere was ghostly.” It was the most difficult period of our young lives to adjust to an emptiness that was not of our making.” As an adult, Sam never forgot the veterans that he came to know during the war. “Thorpe Abbotts had etched itself into my heart,” he wrote, and when he found that local people had started an effort to restore the Control Tower as a 100th Bomb Group Memorial Museum, he joined them.

In 1979, the 100th Bomb Group Association elected Sam an honorary member and he attended five reunions in the US. Sam Hurry passed away in 2014, and his story lives on. (Photos courtesy of Apple TV+ and Malcolm Finnis)

#mota spoilers #mota #masters of the air #the 100th bomb group foundation #the 100th bomb group #wwii #wwii history #mod post

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nightpool · 3 months

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Boeing internal whistleblower RE: MAX DOOR

Via hacker news: A Boeing whistleblower commenting on an airline forum about the cause of the MAX-9 emergency door blowout on January 22nd, based on the detailed internal chat history about that aircraft he was able to find. Seems to be entirely born out by the FAA's preliminary incident report released this afternoon:

With that out of the way… why did the left hand (LH) mid-exit door plug blow off of the 737-9 registered as N704AL? Simple- as has been covered in a number of articles and videos across aviation channels, there are 4 bolts that prevent the mid-exit door plug from sliding up off of the door stop fittings that take the actual pressurization loads in flight, and these 4 bolts were not installed when Boeing delivered the airplane, our own records reflect this.

The mid-exit doors on a 737-9 of both the regular and plug variety come from Spirit already installed in what is supposed to be the final configuration and in the Renton factory, there is a job for the doors team to verify this “final” install and rigging meets drawing requirements. In a healthy production system, this would be a “belt and suspenders” sort of check, but the 737 production system is quite far from healthy, its a rambling, shambling, disaster waiting to happen. As a result, this check job that should find minimal defects has in the past 365 calendar days recorded 392 nonconforming findings on 737 mid fuselage door installations (so both actual doors for the high density configs, and plugs like the one that blew out). That is a hideously high and very alarming number, and if our quality system on 737 was healthy, it would have stopped the line and driven the issue back to supplier after the first few instances. Obviously, this did not happen. Now, on the incident aircraft this check job was completed on 31 August 2023, and did turn up discrepancies, but on the RH side door, not the LH that actually failed. I could blame the team for missing certain details, but given the enormous volume of defects they were already finding and fixing, it was inevitable something would slip through- and on the incident aircraft something did. I know what you are thinking at this point, but grab some popcorn because there is a plot twist coming up.

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yourmidnightlover · 2 months

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timeless - ch. 4

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

series summary: you, bucky and steve were the best of friends growing up. what happens when you're assigned to be a war nurse for the 107th? what happens when bucky finds himself 70 years later with scattered memories of the girl who brought him so much comfort? will your love for each other remain after all of the pain you've been put through? will your love for each other remain timeless?

chapter summary: in a flashback chapter, we see how you and bucky are captured by the other side...

warnings: restraints used against bucky and reader, implied/threatened sexual assault, canon typical violence, talk of war, wounds/stitches/gunshot wounds/blood/etc, please let me know if i've missed anything

w/c: 2.5k+

a/n: AHHHHHH! i'm sorry it's taken me so long to put out this new chapter! a lot's been going on in my personal life lately but i've finally managed to push out the next chapter! it's gonna get very real in the next chapter... so be prepared.

<- chapter 3 ~ chapter 5 ->

“they’ve pushed past the lines of defense at our home base,” a corporal had alerted bucky as he was cleaning his rifle at their shooting sight. “that’s why there’s practically nobody here, sir.”

“what do you mean pushed past our lines of defense…” he was worried about the next words that would come out of his mouth. “are-is everyone okay? are they in danger?”

“sir… i’ve gotten a report that says there have already been casualties,” bucky’s face grew dark as the reality of the threat became much more real.

“we’re going back,” bucky began packing his supplies in his pack, not caring at all about organization before running towards the home base.

the sounds of shots and the smell of gunpowder became much more prominent with each mile he ran. how could he have missed that? missed hundreds of men going past their base… they must’ve found another way around them. it certainly wasn't an aircraft, so they had to have gone underground.

and now you were in danger. you could already be-

no. no, he couldn’t think about that right now. he couldn’t think about losing you when he hadn’t even had you, yet. you were supposed to marry him.

well, maybe first go on a date with him… even his ma new he was head over heels for you. steve knew it, somehow you were the only one who didn’t know how hard he’d fallen for you.

he couldn’t lose you without at least telling you that.

there weren’t anymore gunshots ringing through the air, although the smell of gunpowder was still lingering.

“y/n!” he had finally reached the home base, amidst all of the action. “doll?” it was barren where he was slowly walking, his gun raised and ready to shoot.

he went tent to tent, searching for you and any other signs of life. beneath his feet was the crunching of fallen leaves, crumbling beneath his weight with each step. bucky had never felt any sort of relation to a damn leaf until now.

eventually, he came upon a dark cabin, a few miles from their original home base. he picked the lock with the skills he had learned growing up in brooklyn all these years before slowly opening the door, his heart pounding with what he saw inside.

bodies littered the floor, their chests still rising at least. they had puncture wounds and gunshots ranging from their abdomens to their legs. groans of agony rang out quietly as he made his way around the room. he could practically smell the metallic and coppery scent that only accompanied the presence of an abundance of blood.

a breath of relief passed through him when he saw your ragged nurse uniform in the back corner of the large cabin, tending to one of someone’s many wounds the best you could. they had a washcloth in their mouth as you dabbed their wounds with what he assumed to be disinfectant. the man grimaced, biting down harder on the washcloth as you shushed him with quiet apologies, telling the man he was so brave and strong, promising the pain would be over soon.

he jogged over to you, wrapping his arms around your middle, shocked when he felt your elbow logged into his gut.

“woah,” he groaned as he doubled over in pain, falling to his knees not prepared for you to take a shot at him. “fair enough,” he rang out through clenched teeth.

“ja-jamie?” your voice wavered as you got on your knees to wrap your arms around him. “i thought you died,” you sobbed into his shoulder, clearly having already been crying this whole time while trying to comfort the many soldiers. “i was so worried-i didn’t-nobody told me if you were still out there,” you continued to cry as his hand went to cradle your head, his other arm wrapping around your waist.

“i thought you might’ve…” he sighed, finding comfort in your breath on his neck. “nevermind that, you’re here. you’re safe. and i’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“there’s-they’re all injured here,” you shook your head as you pulled back to search his eyes. “can you-are you hurt, too?”

“no-no, i’m alright, doll.” both his hands cradled your face.

“do you remember the procedures to do when tending to these guys?” your eyes were wide. “i need some help, i haven’t seen any of my girls since they invaded… if you can tend to the smaller wounds, wrap them up, i can focus on the gunshot wounds, so i can get the bullets and stitch?”

“anything,” he nodded as you handed him a pack full of disinfectant, antibacterial, gauze, and wrap. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to manage things for now.

the two of you worked for around two hours before nightfall came. most of the severe cases had already been tended to, everyone still alive thanks to you. you told him how they had invaded, coming from the ground up.

you had tried to drag as many people as you could with you as you ran, others told him that you even went back to help out more. he had never been more proud of his girl. a part of him, one that he couldn’t help but agree with, argued that you should have never been subject to that kind of task. he should have been here to protect you. he should have been the one to guard you, to make sure you never had to go through the stress of saving someone else from gunshots ringing through the air.

“i killed someone, jamie.” he looked up from his patient to see you, tears streaming down your face. “i-i had to, he was coming at me and one of the guys, but i-i killed him.”

the soldier he was tending to put a hand on bucky’s shoulder, clearly understanding how much he wanted to wrap you in his arms. the soldier nodded, seemingly giving his permission for bucky to leave him and his superficial wounds to make sure his girl was alright. bucky nodded back at the soldier before marching towards you, gently grabbing your arm this time, and letting you wrap yourself around him. his hand traced your back mindlessly as your sobs slowed.

“it’s hard,” he nodded, still keeping you close to him. “i wish i could say it gets easier, but i don’t think that’s such a good thing. i think the fact that you feel that pain, the grief and sorrow, it means you’re more human than the rest of us. being desensitised to killing isn’t something to be proud of, but feeling that pain?” he pulled back to look at you. “i’m so glad you can still feel. i hate seeing you in pain, or sad, or frustrated, but if it means that you’re still a bit more human than the rest of us then i think it’s a battle you’ve won.”

you took a second to look into his enrapturing eyes before replying, “how is it you always know what to say?”

“y/n,” he took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to articulate what he wanted-needed to tell you before you heard the crunching of leaves from outside.

it was like a wave of cold washed over everyone inside the cabin’s room. bucky walked quickly to grab his rifle before gazing outside a crack in one of the boarded up windows. you stood right behind him, a hand on his shoulder and your breath grazing his neck.

it happened so fast.

most of the guys had only needed a little patching up, so they were able to put up at least a bit of a fight. one of the biggest surprises, though, was that this time, they weren’t shooting bullets.

they were shooting tranquilizers.

bucky had manuevered you behind him to shield you from the men as he began shooting at the germans.

eventually, he ran out of ammunition. quicker than either of you had expected, in fact. after that, it all came crashing down around you. bucky turned towards you, wrapping his arms around your torso as the two of you got down to the ground. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“i’ve got you.” another kiss landed on the crown of your head as piping hot tears streamed down your face. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry,” he pressed his forehead against your own as you awaited the cold release of death.

although, it never came.

what did come, however, was the sting in your right shoulder. you pulled back to briefly look at bucky, squeezing his arms with an attempted smile before succumbing to your body’s exhaustion, slumping against his chest for just a brief moment of calm. then, the darkness took over.

when you woke, a bright light was piercing your eyes. your head was throbbing, and upon trying to lift your arms to rub your temples, you realized you couldn’t. your arms were bound to wherever you were laying. turning your head, you realized you were in a dingy looking room. there was another bed beside yours, though.

“y/n?” bucky’s voice rang out. “doll, are you awake now? please, god, tell me you’re awake.” you could hear the desperation in his voice.

“mhmm,” you couldn’t even nod your head. “m’head hurts, jamie. i don’t-where are we?” your voice cracked as you finished the sentence, you almost wanted to curse yoursel for letting vulnerability show. almost. the citation was dire as it was, a little fear was especially normal.

“i-they…” he took a deep breath. you wanted nothing more than to hold him in this time right now. maybe you’d rather him hold you, because, dammit, you were terrified. but the guilt that was buried underneath his tone was so noticeable you couldn’t help wanting to comfort him. “they’ve got us, doll,” his humorless chuckle did little to hide his fear or disappointment. “i’ll-i’ll figure this out, though. i’ll get us out of here. i’ll get you out of here. it’ll be okay. you’ll be okay.” it seemed as though he was trying to convince himself rather than you.

“it’ll be okay,” you assured him. “we have to be strong, buck. we’ll get through this.”

there was thumping and rustling at, what you assumed was, the entrance.

“good to see you two awake,” a thick accent, russian, solidified your greatest fears. you were captured by the other side. “we have a lot planned for you two… the tests we’ve performed seemed to be very assuring.” the male voice got closer to you, between you and bucky. “aren’t you a pretty little thing, american.” his hand grabbed your chin harshly, you squealed from the shock.

“don’t fucking touch her!” you heard bucky fighting against the restraints, the strong metal rendering his muscles no match. “don’t hurt her!”

“oh… are you her lover?” he chuckled as he released your chin. “we have a little bet going on, the way you tried to protect her was very new to what we’ve seen. some think lovers… i’ve got a lot in the pot.”

“it’s none of your fucking business,” you finally spoke to the man. “what the hell are you doing to us? what do you want?” there was more venom in your voice than you ever thought possible.

the back of his hand trailed down your cheek before he cleared his throat. “we’re trying out some new… vaccinations on you. no need to fret, pretty one. you’ll find out what and why soon enough.”

vaccinations… what the hell? you had thought animal testing was still all the rage for testing products, especially overseas. you haven’t heard of human testing in ages. maybe that’s for a reason. obviously a government would want to keep that a secret.

perhaps america was doing the same thing themselves, experimenting on soldiers and hostages they would otherwise kill.

god, this was probably gonna hurt like hell.

“ladies first?” the man offered, as if he were being a kind gentleman.

“no!” bucky fought once more. “me! test me first! i’ll comply… i won’t fight, just don’t hurt her.” there was so much desperation in his voice as he pleaded for your life.

“you understand the… vaccinations may react different on both men and women? there’s a reason we kept your girlfriend for further testing as well. either way, what’s done to you will be done to her. although, i can’t say we won’t do a bit more to that pretty face of hers.”

“fuck you,” you spat out with a rasp.

“that could be arranged, pretty one,” he laughed before he began to stalk towards bucky. “i will listen to you this time. don’t say i never did anything for you.”

“no!” it was your turn to strain against the metal pieces keeping your body down to the table. “don’t hurt him, please!” you felt tears welling in your eyes before bucky’s voice became calm.

“it’s okay, doll,” you could hear his voice shake. “i’ll be okay. just stay strong for me, please.”

“jamie…” your voice cracked, even though you would’ve liked to play the role of a touch prisoner that couldn’t be broken.

you couldn’t help but feel hopeless as he escorted bucky out. your sobs began to echo throughout the room.

you were in a russian base, being experimented on with the man who doesn’t even know how much you love him.

you prayed to a God you didn’t know if you believed in for the first time in a long time. you prayed that he would make it out alive, that he wouldn’t be harmed. that you could see daylight again with him. that one day you’d be able to tell him how much you truly loved him.

prayed that it wasn’t too late to tell him everything…

TAGS:

@cjand10

@coldheartedmar

@ordelixx

@whiskytoast

@cookingdancingchick

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #marvel #sargeant barnes #sargeant bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes whump #bucky x fem!reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes

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major-mads · 3 months

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Chapter 1: Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: Ruth has been living in my head for months now, and I'm so so so excited to share her with y'all! This series is Jess (footprintsinthesxnd) and I's brainchild. Our ideas just seamlessly fit tegether, and here we are! We actually wrote this first chapter a week before the 26th, so if anything happens to almost exactly match the show, we came up with it before we saw it on there! (we're just good like that 😎)

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 5.3k

The hum of the engine was the only sound in the C-47 as it soared over the English countryside. The patients had finally settled, and the morphine finally took effect and brought them some sense of relief. Hope slumped back into her seat with a sigh, smiling over at Ruth who looked as exhausted as she was.

“You looked tired,” Hope smiled at her friend who just sighed.

“It’s been a long day. I can’t wait to get back to base,” Ruth pushed her short blonde hair out of her eyes, sighing again.

“Hey Frank, how much longer have we got,” Hope called to one of the pilots.

“We’ve had to make a detour, doll. We’re heading to Thorpe Abbotts airfield and will evacuate the wounded to Thorpe St. Andrews Hospital. It’s not far now.”

Hope felt her heart flutter, her throat drying as she slouched back against her seat.

“Hey Hope, what’s wrong?” Ruth leaned forward, gripping Hope’s hand and squeezing it, her large blue eyes filled with worry.

“It’s Hugh,” Hope muttered, her eyes a little teary but a smile on her lips nonetheless. “My brother is stationed at Thorpe Abbotts with the 100th Bomb Group. I haven’t seen him in so long.”

Ruth’s concerned frown turned to a smile, “So I’m finally going to meet this Hugh I’ve heard so much about.”

Hope laughed, patting her friend on the back gently, “You will, but don’t get any ideas.”

The aircraft soared towards its destination, and the occasional jolting and shaking on the metal bird brought no fear to the flight nurses anymore. Once, the ratting metal coffin struck the fear of God into them but now this was a peaceful ride.

Hope watched out the window as the lush, green countryside grew closer and closer.

“Hey, Frank! Stop hugging the hedgerows for crying out loud. Don’t let the girl down before we’ve reached the field,” Hope called, grimacing as the trees seemed to grow ever closer.

“Who’s flying this bird, Armstrong? You or me?” Frank retorted, not looking away from the cockpit.

“Well, maybe you could use some lessons in keeping the old girl airborne then. We’ll beat up the airfield at this rate.”

Ruth laughed, watching Hope argue with the pilot once more, “You know Hope, maybe you should have gotten your wings. Then you could be flying us instead of Frank.”

“You’ve got a good point there, Ruth. Ya hear that Frank, Ruth wants me flying instead of you.”

Frank’s reply was a muffled curse, and both girls found themselves giggling in response. The plane tooled along for a while longer until it finally began to descend, rattling as it lost altitude and shaking its victims vigorously. The wheels touching down on the tarmac filled everyone with great relief.

“Well that was one ropey landing, Frank. Maybe I could give ya a few lessons?” Hope asked politely, batting her eyelashes at the pilot who just huffed.

“Shove off, Hope. Now get to it, your blood wagons are waiting.”

Hope cringed at the nickname the ambulances had been given, they were lifesaving vehicles transporting sick men, why make it sound so ominous?

Hope hopped down from the plane, instructing the stretcher-bearers on which soldiers were in the worst condition. Between them, Hope and Ruth helped carry three wounded men to the ambulances when an obnoxiously loud voice called, “Well, I’ll be damned!”

Hope spun round, her boots scuffing at the earth.

“HUGH!” Her brother laughed jovially, jogging over to them.

“Gosh, I’ve missed you, Little Bird,” Hugh threw his arms around Hope’s shoulders, nestling his head into her neck as he always did. Hope couldn’t comprehend what was happening. She was finally in her brother's arms, finally reunited with him after so long. She gripped tightly onto the back of his uniform, burying her face in his chest. He smelt of smoke and engine oil just like he did back home.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured, just loud enough for Hugh to hear as he tightened his grip on her further. She could feel Ruth hovering awkwardly behind her and she turned to greet her friend, pulling out of her brother's arms.

“Ruth, this is my brother, Hugh. Hugh, this is my friend, Ruth.”

Ruth smiled sweetly, sticking out her hand to shake Hugh’s but instead, he pulled her into a bear hug.

“Any friend of Hope’s is a friend of mine,” he assured Ruth and she smiled, her cheeks turning a deep red at the embarrassment of the situation.

“Hugh, put her down. Look, you're making the poor girl blush,” Hope laughed, which only caused Ruth to blush harder.

“My apologies Ruthie, where are my manners,” he bowed, taking her hand and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Oh, uh- nice to meet you.” Ruth stumbled over her words, quickly using the excuse that she needed her flight jacket as an excuse to return to the plane.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Hope groaned, shoving her brother playfully in the ribs.

“I don’t know, I’ve always considered myself rather charming,” Hugh protested, puffing out his chest in pride.

Hope nodded, spinning around to call Ruth to join them. The blonde soon was walking back toward the group, now wearing her fleece aviation jacket, and to her relief, without a rosy dusting on her cheeks.

“I still can’t believe out of all the airfields in England, you managed to land at this one,” Hugh laughed, throwing an arm around both girls' shoulders. “You two are in for a real treat.”

As they walked through the base, Hugh pointed out the various hard stands.

“See, right there,” he pointed at a few heavies. “That’s “Just-a-Snappin’, Our Baby, and the M’lle Zig Zig.”

“Where do you guys get these names, Hugh?” Hope laughed, her eyes trailing over each one’s elaborate nose art, along with some very proud-looking engineers and artists who had clearly put so much love into the bombers.

Shrugging his shoulders, Hugh sighed, shaking his head. “I couldn’t tell ya. What’s your plane named?”

“Just the Angel of Death,” Hope chirped.

Hugh stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Always with the dark humor, aren’t you, Hope.”

After hearing so much about the man from Hope, Ruth felt as if she’d known Hugh for years when in reality she’d only known him for a few minutes. She knew the stories of how the siblings played in the woods of Columbia, Missouri, exploring the famous rock bridge that brought hikers and tourists into the town. She knew of his love for the St. Louis Cardinals, and how he wore his battered and dirty Dizzy Dean jersey for a week straight after they won the World Series in ‘31 and ‘34. Maybe he’d heard so much about Ruth from Hope that he felt the same way.

‘It would make sense based on his initial reaction.’ she thought, absentmindedly reaching up and grabbing the small pendant hanging from her neck, running her fingers over its smooth edges.

Before they knew it, the trio reached their destination: his officer nissen hut. They were long semi-circular metal huts, not known for their warmth or comfortability, but they were a soft place to land at the end of the day…which is a lot more than most young men of the time could say.

“Welcome to my humble abode, ladies,” he announced as they neared the building, holding out his arms in a ‘ta-da’ motion. “She’s not much, but she’s home.”

He began to open the door for them, but a voice in the distance stopped him.

“Charlie! No girls in the huts,” the voice called. “I told you that a few weeks ago.”

Turning toward the voice, Hope did a double take when she saw who its owner. Approaching them was a tall, tan, brunette, who wore a bomber jacket with his hair messily combed to the side. He walked with a swagger that instantly put a bad taste in Hope’s mouth.

She sighed to herself, thinking, ‘Why do all the cute ones have to be cocky?’

Hugh groaned, pointing at Hope. “Buck, come on, this is my-”

The man finally reached them, and Hope stopped herself from being captivated by his blue-green eyes.

“I don’t care who she is. You know the rules,” he interrupted, turning to the girls. “Sorry girls, but I think it’s time for you to go.”

Ruth cringed and side-eyed Hope, already expecting a snarky response to his comment.

“Well,” she paused, checking her watch for effect. “Seeing as we have patients in the infirmary, it actually isn’t time for us to go.”

It was then that he looked down at her upper arm, taking in the bright red and white medic band that adorned her uniform. Ruth could see the slightest show of remorse in his expression as his eyes rose back up to Hope’s.

“My apologies, ma’am. I didn’t know-”

Hope didn’t let him finish, cutting him off. “Maybe you should know all the facts before you make an assumption, Buck.”

“Hope!” Ruth hissed, trying to placate her friend, but the woman ignored her.

“See, other than my brother, this is why I can’t stand airmen. They’re cocky-”

Realizing the flaw in Hope’s argument, Ruth ran a hand down her face, secondhand embarrassment filling her. Just when she was about to interject, Buck beat her to it.

“Now hold on. Maybe you should know all the facts before you make an assumption, sweetheart.”

Hope’s mind ran rampant with frustration, and she stared up at him with contempt as he smiled cheekily at her. His eyes were locked on hers as they had a stare-down, neither wanting to be the first to give in.

“So,” Hugh cleared his throat in an attempt to break their silent battle. “Let me introduce you guys. Ladies, this is my squadron commander, Major Buck Cleven.”

Buck tilted his head slightly, not breaking eye contact with Hope. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she replied dryly.

Ruth shook her head and sighed, amazed at her fellow nurse’s childlike stubbornness.

“And Buck, this is my sister, Hope, and her friend Ruth. They’re flight nurses with the 806th MAETS.”

Ruth raised a hand and waved with a quiet, “Hello,” and Hope felt a little satisfaction when the man’s eyes widened at the word sister.

Buck’s eys left Hope for a moment to acknowledge Ruth, who stood beside her, with a nod and a smile. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“You, too, Major,” she responded with a small grin. He then turned back to Hope.

“So, you’re the infamous little sister we’ve all heard about?” Buck chuckled, placing his hands on his hips.

The woman glanced over at Hugh, who wore a guilty expression. “All good things, I hope.”

“For the most part,” Buck chimed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know about your little escapade to Kansas City, and how–”

Hope’s eyes widened in disbelief that her brother had divulged her most embarrassing moment. “Hugh!!” she cried, smacking his chest. “You lying piece of crap! You promised!”

“It’s not like I thought you’d ever meet anyone here, Hope!”

Composing herself, she took a deep breath and sent Buck a tight-lipped smile. “It looks like you know a lot more about me than I do about you, Major.”

“It would seem so, Nurse Armstrong.”

As Ruth amusedly listened to Gale and Hope’s banter, she felt like she was being watched. Glancing around the group, her heart skipped a beat as her eyes met another set of icy blues, ones that were new to the group.

‘How did I miss him walking up?’ she wondered.

Their gazes locked for a few seconds that seemed to last minutes, and a shudder ran through her. Breaking from his stupor, he quickly looked away with a light pink dusting on his cheeks. Ruth felt her own blush creeping up her neck and wrapped her flight jacket closer to her body, the English chill suddenly getting to her.

Her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they fought to return to the handsome stranger. It took all her willpower to keep them on Hugh, who was talking to the group.

“I can’t imagine going up without weapons on board. We’ve got 12 50-cal brownings and sometimes I feel that’s not enough.”

The battle within herself became too much, and Ruth finally gave in to her temptation. Her eyes flitted over to the man, and she silently sighed in relief when she found his gaze elsewhere. It was then that she discovered her first assumption of the man being ‘handsome’ was an understatement. He had a strong and well-defined jawline, expressive and striking blue-grey eyes, a straight nose, and a slightly curved lip, which held a pencil-thin mustache.

She liked the mustache.

He wore a crooked crusher cap and a white fleece-lined flying jacket that looked somewhat dirty, accompanied by his brown service top poking out at the jacket collar.

Ruth was mesmerized by the man, and she didn’t even know his name. A wide grin broke out on his face as he engaged in the group’s conversation, his upper lip curling up, allowing a few teeth to peek out the top, and Ruth felt her stomach lurch for the second time in a short few minutes.

Focus, Ruth. Focus.

An elbow to her side broke her stare, and the group’s eyes were suddenly on her as Hope looked at her expectantly.

“What?” Ruth asked, looking like a deer in headlights.

“I said that we would go insane without each other up there.”

“Oh,” she sighed with a small smile. “You would probably kill Frank if I weren’t there.”

The group broke out in laughter, and Ruth found her eyes absentmindedly moving to the mystery man. As he chuckled, his eyes wrinkled at the edges, and his full smile revealed a dazzlingly straight set of pearly whites. His loud laughter was infectious, and a few giggles escaped her mouth.

As the group’s chuckles started to die down, Hope looked over at Ruth. She took in her friend’s shy smile and blush, then followed her gaze to the airman across the circle. Realizing what was happening, she nudged Ruth lightly, a teasing eyebrow raised.

“What?” Ruth grumbled under her breath, leaning closer to her friend’s ear as the guys carried on the group’s conversation.

“You like him.”

The blonde’s smile fell and heat rushed up her neck. “Who?”

Hope tilted her head incredulously, rolling her eyes. “You know who.”

“No, I don’t,” she defended,

“He’s staring,” Hope grinned, nodding his direction subtly.

Ruth’s eyes rose to his, and sure enough, his striking eyes were gazing into hers yet again. This time, however, he didn’t look away. The corner of his lips quirked up into a barely noticeable grin, and she felt as if she was shrinking under the intensity of his gaze.

“Uh, I need to go check on the patients,” she sputtered, pointing her fingers in the direction of the infirmary. With a curt nod to Hope, she quickly turned and started toward the infirmary, her blonde curls bouncing with each step. A few seconds later, she spun to face the group and called, “But it was…uh…nice to meet y’all.”

Hugh didn’t miss a beat and hollered back his reply. “You, too, Ruthie!” He then paused until she was out of earshot. “She alright?”

“She’s fine,” Hope sighed, used to her friend’s more timid personality. She had hoped that over time, her extroversion would rub off on the nurse, but so far, she had no such luck. Ruth was more of a one-on-one person, not one for groups of people unless she knew them pretty well. It seemed the smaller the group got, the more Ruth seemed to come alive. It was like pulling teeth to get Ruth to agree to go out with the other girls of the unit, but when she finally stepped out of her comfort zone, she usually had a good time filled with friends, fellas, and amazing big band music.

Ruth’s admirer joined the conversation, and Hope smirked, watching his eyes follow her friend. “How far away is your base?”

“We’re in Berkshire, so by car, it’s about three hours, but by plane, probably 45 minutes.”

“So not far,” he chimed, raising his eyebrows and nodding to himself. Before anyone else could comment, he spoke again.

“See you boys later,” he said absentmindedly as he watched Ruth’s figure go around a corner. Clapping Buck’s shoulder, he set off and followed the nurse’s path around the corner, missing the raised eyebrows and confused expressions sent his way. All eyes followed him as he, too, disappeared around the corner.

Hope pursed her lips at the new development, unsure of the man following Ruth. “Should I be worried?”

“Yep,” Hugh confirmed with a curt nod.

Buck hit him on the chest, chuckling under his breath. “Johnny’s a good man, darlin’.”

Hugh suppressed a snort thinking of the commander’s wild habits and how Buck didn't exactly answer her question.

“Anyways, back wh-”

And just like that, the conversation continued, and Hope had a strange feeling of contentment being on base. Finally being with family again.

As Ruth briskly made her way around the nissen huts to the infirmary, her heart continued to beat rapidly in her chest, and her mind replayed his smile non-stop.

Get it together, Ruth!

When she finally reached the infirmary, she stopped at the door, taking a deep breath to gain some composure. Within seconds of opening the heavy door, the base’s head surgeon approached her, wiping his hands with a rag.

“Hello,” he greeted. “I’m Captain Emory Kinder, and I’m assuming you’re one of the flight nurses who landed earlier?”

Ruth wore her signature toothy grin and nodded. “Yes, sir. Ruth Morgan. My other half is visiting with her brother as we speak.”

“Brother?”

“Yep, Hugh Armstrong,” she replied, her smile widening as his face lit up.

“Charlie! Oh yeah, I know him. He’s been in here for a few hangovers after a rowdy night in Dickleburgh.”

“Really?” Ruth chuckled, picturing the confident young man drunk as a skunk.

“Oh yeah. We love him though. He’s a good one for sure.”

A patient called out to him, and with a nod, he was off, helping the man. Ruth busied herself however she could, bringing airmen water, re-wrapping their bandages, and pretty much anything that would get her mind off the man from earlier. She was inspecting a man’s arm wound when the creaking of the door opening filled the building. Paying it no mind, she kept working, noting how the tissue was already healing.

“It looks good, Sergeant. You should be back in the air soon,” she said quietly.

His wide-eyed morphine-induced expression looked pitiful, but he managed to mumble out a, “Thank you, ma’am.”

Ruth gathered her supplies and stood to her feet, throwing away the bloody bandages when Emory's voice rang through the air.

“Speaking of rowdy nights in Dickleburgh...Major, what can I do for ya? Is that shoulder giving you problems again?”

“No, Doc,” the newcomer began, his deep voice breaking the relative quiet. “The shoulder’s fine. I just wanted to, you know, come see the boy-men.”

When she turned toward them and saw the white jacket, the roll of bandages fell from her grasp and hit the floor with a thud, rolling a few feet away to the man’s feet. The heat returned to her cheeks in a rush, and her eyes froze on the bandages for a moment, silently cursing the little white bundle. She watched in horror as the man slowly bent down and picked it up, walking toward her as he threw it up in the air and caught it.

“I think this yours,” he said, one side of his lips quirking up into a smirk as he held it out to her.

Raising her eyes from the bandage to his eyes, she prayed her voice would stay steady. “Thank you, sir.”

She took the bandage and tried to remain calm, her free hand raising to run her fingers over the cool metal of her locket.

“John. Major John Egan,” he introduced himself, extending his hand to her. “But you can call me Bucky.”

Ruth’s brows furrowed in confusion as she took his much larger hand and shook it gently. It was surprisingly soft compared to the men she’d treated from the lines. “Bucky? It’s there another-”

“Yeah,” John chuckled and slowly released her hand, shoving his in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “We call Cleven Buck, too. He hates it, but he deals with it.”

Grimacing playfully, she decided to go out on a limb despite her pounding heart. “Well, I, um, don’t know if I’ll be able to remember who’s who.”

“Oh no,” John tutted, his eyebrows raised and a wide-mouthed smile painting his lips. “We can’t have that. You can call me John, Johnny, whatever you want, doll, but I don’t think you’re going to have a hard time remembering my name.”

“And why would that be, Johnny?”

“Because you’ll see it at the bottom of each letter you’ll get from me.”

The blonde froze, dropping her necklace in disbelief as she swallowed thickly.

‘There is no way he just said that,’ her mind repeated. ‘There is no way he just said that.”

Pushing through her reserved personality and the tingling sensation swirling in her stomach, she decided to take a page from Hope’s book.

“What makes you think I’d let you write me, hotshot?”

Her mind went haywire. ‘‘Why did I just say that? I’m never taking Hope’s advice again. This is too stressful.’

For the first time in their interaction, his confident bravado seemed to fade and he didn’t quite know what to say. Perhaps he was always used to women giving in to his advances easily, but Ruth was not just another woman begging to be wooed. Johnny stood before her with furrowed brows, his upper lip sticking out slightly. He pushed back his jacket and placed his hands on his hips, his head ducking to the floor.

“Because I’d like to get to know you,” he replied earnestly, taking off his cap. “You’re gorgeous, and I would like to write you, Ruth.“

That was the last thing she expected.

In that moment, Ruth Morgan had a decision to make. Was she going to reject the airman or give him a chance? She knew she was attracted to him and there was chemistry there, but was she willing to put herself out there? The timid parts of her personality screamed at her to tell him no, but the parts that Hope had influenced were urging her to accept his offer. In the end, Ruth already liked Johnny, and she saw the sincerity in his statement as a deciding factor in the matter.

“Alright, you can write to me,” she answered quietly, pushing her hair behind her ear.

John watched as she walked to the infirmary desk and got a sheet of paper, scribbling down what he expected to be her address. He took in her features, just like he had earlier. Starting at her light blonde hair, his gaze traveled down her face to her familiar blue eyes, down her adorable nose, to her lips, which were pursed slightly as she concentrated on writing down her information. She was stunning, and Johnny knew that he wanted to see her again just from their short conversation.

Approaching him again, she held up a slip of paper, a toothy grin on her lips. “This is sensitive information, Major. It better not end up in enemy hands, and that includes your fellow airmen.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded once before fake saluting her, unable to keep his excitement inside. “Mission understood.”

“But just to be safe, I’m going to hold onto it for a little bit.” she leaned a little closer to him, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Just in case I, you know, change my mind.”

John grinned down at her and yet again raised his eyebrows as he nodded. Ruth noticed he did that a lot. “I’ll be on my best behavior, scout’s honor.”

Sliding the slip into her pocket, she started her nursing tasks once again, looking at him over her shoulder. “So, you were in the Boy Scouts?”

“No,” he chuckled, putting back on his cap as he moved next to Ruth to help. “I wasn’t, but Buck was. He ended up being an Eagle Scout before he aged out. One of the best in Wyoming, he says, but I don't buy it.”

He stood a good 5 or so inches above her, so his chin was at her eye level. In the small area at the nursing station, his shoulder was just barely pressed against hers as they both worked to roll bandages, and Ruth could feel the warmth radiating from his touch.

“It seems like you know each other pretty well,” she stated, looking up at him briefly.

His concentration remained on the bandage in his hands as he spoke. “Yeah. He’s my best friend.”

“How long have you known each other?” She asked, reaching up to mess with her necklace.

“We both joined up in ‘40 and were roommates in basic. Been together ever since.”

“That reminds me of Hope and I, although we haven’t known each other for nearly that long.”

John placed the finished bandage in the basket and turned to face her, leaning a hip against the counter as his earnest expression returned. “War makes people closer. Makes ‘em realize who’s important. What’s important.”

The blonde mirrored his stance, taking in his words. He was right. War did have a way of bringing people together. She gazed up at him with a shared understanding of how something as terrible as the war had brought out the best and worst in people, as well as brought people into their lives for the better. The pair’s eyes remained locked for a few moments, both realizing that perhaps there was something deeper than the flirting between them. His warm eyes seemed to search hers, and to her surprise, she didn’t feel nervous in that moment. Johnny’s gaze was like a warm blanket enveloping all of her senses to the point that all she could see was him.

“I feel the same way,” Ruth finally answered, fixing a stray curl that had fallen into her eyes.

Half of his lips curled up in a grin and he took a step toward her. “Ruth, I-”

The loud opening of the door jolted them from the moment, sending both their heads in the direction of the entrance. There stood an out-of-breath Frank, whose face was bright red and shimmering with sweat.

“Ruth! Do you know how long I’ve been looking for ya?” He cried, approaching them quickly.

Unsure of the man’s intentions, Johnny straightened and moved just barely in front of her, holding out a hand towards Frank. “Woah, buddy.”

Although it was an endearing effort, she couldn’t hold in a loud giggle at Frank’s offended expression that followed. “No, Johnny,” she laughed, gently lowering his hand. “This is our pilot, Frank. Frank, this is Major John Egan. What is it?”

The pilot’s eyes flicked between Ruth and Johnny for a few seconds before he sighed. “I’ve filled the Angel up and it’s time to go. Find Hope and meet me back at the plane.”

Just like that, he was out the door again, probably to get ready for takeoff. Ruth’s heart sank at the realization that she was having to leave. It seemed he also came to the same conclusion as he turned toward her and sighed.

“Looks like you’ve gotta go,” he said softly, slightly tilting his head to the side as he peered down at her.

The nurse looked at the door, then lowered her gaze to her feet. “It sure does.”

She almost gasped in surprise when something warm grasped her hand gently. Her eyes shot up to John’s hand that held delicately held hers. The contact sent a tingle up her arm and seemingly straight to her mind, muddying her thoughts.

“I'd like to see you again,” he murmured where only she could hear.

This quieter, softer version of him was unknown to Ruth, but she knew instantly that she liked the duality of Johnny.

The blush she’d resisted finally won and dusted her cheeks as she looked up at him. “I’d like that, too.”

John softly tugged her hand closer and bridged the distance between them slowly, his entrancing eyes flicking between her eyes and lips. Ruth could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood on her toes to meet him. She felt his warm breath on her face, and her eyes fluttered closed, anticipating the kiss. But before their lips could meet, the door opened again, and Frank called out to her.

“Ruth, come on! You can neck the Major later!”

The door quickly creaked closed.

Heat rushed to Ruth’s face, and she reluctantly pulled back from Johnny, setting her heels back on the ground. Johnny awkwardly stood to his full height, glaring at the door where Frank stood moments before.

“I’ll see you next time, Johnny,” Ruth smiled bashfully, gently squeezing his hand once before dropping it. She walked backward to the door, praying she wouldn’t trip.

Johnny let out a huff of air as the biggest smile grew on his face. “So there will be a next time?”

She simply grinned at him, shrugging her shoulders when she turned to open the door. With one last look over her shoulder, she closed the door behind her.

The infirmary was silent for a few seconds, and then the patients erupted in hollers, cheers, and whistles.

“Way to go, Bucky!”

“Leave some for the rest of us, Major!”

Amid their uproar, John remembered a crucial detail: She hadn’t given him her address! He took off toward the door, reaching for the handle when it creaked open, revealing a laughing Ruth on the other side. She held out the slip to him.

“I think you behaved well enough, Major.”

“Told you,” he chimed, his eyebrows raising. “Scout’s honor.”

John took the paper from her outstretched hand and watched as she left once again. When the door had slammed shut behind her, he read the note to himself with a wide smile.

Hotshot,

You can write me at the Grove, Berkshire, Hut 4. I like you, so try not to get shot down before I can return your letter, and I’ll do the same.

Safe Flying,

Ruth Morgan

Johnny shot his hand with the paper into the air, and the men cheered once again. Ruth, on the other hand, was in disbelief of what had just transpired. She had almost kissed him! She wanted to kiss him! Running her hands through her hair, she tried to focus on the task at hand: finding Hope.

Ruth ran around the base like a chicken with her head cut off looking for the woman, and was about to give up when she saw her sitting in a jeep with Buck in the distance.

“HOPE! There you are, I've been looking everywhere. Frank fueled up the plane. We have to go,” Ruth huffed, clearly out of breath from running, but her flushed cheeks, Hope thought, told a different story.

“Okay, I'll be over in five minutes,” Hope promised, but Ruth didn't look convinced.

“Your five minutes or an actual five minutes?” She asked, and the glare Hope sent her way had Ruth turning around and heading back in the direction she’d come.

“Okay, but I'll be timing you,” she yelled over her shoulder.

When Ruth looked back to see Hope kissing Buck on the cheek, it occurred to her that maybe there were more trips to Thorpe Abbotts in the cards for both of them.

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