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cetaitlaverite · 2 months ago

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Call It What You Want

or: The Three Times They Lied to Each Other and the One Time They Told the Truth

Masters of the Air - John Brady x OC

informal part 2 to this short fic but can be read as a standalone. also features characters from my multi-chapter rosie x oc fic 'why all this music?' but, again, this can be read on its own. by popular demand, here is 6k words of millie and brady's clownery. you asked and i delivered (i hope). they're iconic your honour and sooo much fun to write. hope you loooooove <3

It took Millie several moments to calm her raging blush when she first caught sight of John Brady waiting for her outside the tower. It was impossible to look at him and not remember the way they’d kissed last night. She wanted to blame it on the darkness they’d been blanketed in when he’d first done it, wanted to blame it on the alcohol she’d consumed. But in the light of day as she watched him wander in idle circles in the grass, his hands in his pockets and his eyes squinted into the sunshine, she knew she’d be lying to herself to blame everything which had transpired between them on anything other than passion. Fiery hatred or fiery desire, it didn’t matter; both of them were impossible to ignore.

When her cheeks cooled down and she’d assumed some semblance of composure, Millie resumed her walk to work. Really, she lectured herself, he might not even be waiting for her. She wasn’t the only wireless operator who worked in the tower, let alone the only person who worked in there - he could have been waiting for anyone, one of his superiors included. But when she got close to the door he turned, as though sensing her, and straightened his posture. The way he was looking at her told her she’d been right; he was there for her.

“Harlow,” he greeted coolly.

“Brady,” she replied. “You’re not even flying today and yet you’re still here to lecture me on my skills as a wireless op. That’s true dedication, Brady, really, but I can assure you you’re the only pilot on this base who takes any issue with the way I do my job.”

Brady’s lips turned down in a sour approximation of a smile but he didn’t retort, as she might have expected. Instead, he said quietly, “About last night -”

Hearing him acknowledge it while the sun was high in the sky, while she was looking directly into his eyes and watching his lips move, while no single part of him was concealed by darkness and no single part of her was, either, was too much. Millie felt her stomach flip and her hands start to sweat. She hurried to cut across him, “Nothing happened last night.”

Brady raised his eyebrows at her. “Oh? So I must’ve dreamed that we kissed.”

“I’m sure it’s a dream you have often,” Millie replied. “Not to worry, you wouldn’t be the only one.”

He rolled his eyes. “We kissed, Harlow, and you know it.”

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. But, regardless, when he opened his mouth to reply she took him by the elbow and towed him behind her around the back of the tower, away from prying eyes and ears who may have been curious to know what the two of them were arguing about this time.

“So -” Brady began when they were alone.

Again, Millie cut him off. “We didn’t kiss.”

Brady scoffed. “We did. Twice, in fact.”

“Why would I ever kiss you?” Millie demanded, squeezing her hands into fists and tucking them behind her back. “I don’t even like you.”

Brady was smirking even as he rolled his eyes at her. “You don’t need to be so defensive about it. I was just coming here to say it’s never gonna happen again. So, you know, don’t get your hopes up or anything.”

He was so self-righteous, convincing himself he was letting her down gently. He’d come here thinking he was rejecting her?

“Don’t get my hopes up?” Millie echoed with a scoff. “How typical of you, to convince yourself that you’ve got the upper hand. What, did you fancy that I’ve been twirling my hair and kicking my feet, waiting for you to come ask me to marry you?”

Brady shrugged. “Something like that.”

“You’re a real arsehole.”

“But am I wrong?”

“Yes!” Millie cried. “If you remember correctly, you kissed me!”

“You kissed me after!” Brady exclaimed right back at her.

“A major lapse in judgement!” she defended herself.

“On my part as well,” Brady hissed.

Millie scoffed. “You grabbed my arm and took me away from the club -”

“To talk -”

“We could’ve done that outside the club! We didn’t need to be in some alley to argue, we do it everyday!”

“Maybe I didn’t want everyone overhearing!”

“Everyone’s overheard us a million times before,” Millie pointed out. Now her eyebrows were raised with palpable suspicion. “Why did you only decide it mattered last night? Hm? And only after you interrupted my dance with Benny?”

Brady stared her down. He had no answer for her. Millie could tell by the twisting of his lips and the way his fingers were twitching in his pockets, straining against the fabric of his trousers like he was pressing down on the keys of his saxophone, that he was fighting for a viable explanation.

Her eyes were dancing. Her smile was smug. “Because you wanted to kiss me,” she deduced. “Admit it. There’s no shame in it, Brady, you’d hardly be the first man who’s wanted to.”

“You’re so goddamn arrogant,” he snarled. “You’re the last woman on this base I’d want to kiss, Harlow. The very last.”

“Yes, because the ladies are just lining up for you, Brady, you miserable -”

“I don’t see anyone else tripping over themselves to fall at your feet,” Brady cut her off.

Millie raised her eyebrows. “Yes, you do.”

“So why don’t you go for them? Why do you spend all your time in the club staring at me?” Now Brady was smug, removing his hands from his pockets to cross his arms over his chest.

Millie scowled. “I do not stare at you.”

“You do.”

“Only if I feel you glaring at me.”

“I only glare at you when I feel you staring.”

“Chicken and egg,” Millie replied. “It’s beside the point. The point is, you took me to that alley last night because you wanted to kiss me.” Her eyes were penetrating, fiery, as they bore into his. “Admit it,” she said slowly, savouring the taste of the words.

“No,” Brady said lowly. “I didn’t want to kiss you, Harlow. In your dreams.”

“You didn’t want to,” Millie repeated, “and yet you did. You did kiss me. And you wanted to. Admit it.”

“No.”

“Admit it.”

“No.”

Millie took a step closer to him, craning her neck back to maintain the hold she had on his eyes. Her smirk was small and yet it was there, playing at the corners of her lips. Her gaze, she knew, was sultry. She’d perfected it a while ago.

Close enough that they could hold a sheet of paper aloft between them, Millie lowered her voice to only barely above a whisper. She gazed at him from beneath her eyelashes. “Admit it, John.”

She could only admit to herself that she’d wanted him to kiss her when he did, when he had her pressed up against the wall of the tower, one hand cupping her cheek and the other on her hip, tugging it towards him. Just like last night, his lips were fast and feverish, desperate against her own, like he was worried this would be the last time he’d ever get to touch her like this.

She couldn’t find it within herself to resent herself for kissing back. Just like last night, it was addictive. She’d never been kissed like this, never kissed anyone like this either. Kissing was something entirely other when it was done with John Brady.

His hands kept to modest areas but the heat they trailed may as well have been against her bare skin. As his hand slid up from her hip, past her waist and over her shoulder, up to the back of her neck beneath her hair, as his other hand slid down from her cheek and drew across to the centre of her back, encouraging her to arch up off the wall into him, the hold he had on her felt more intimate than anything she’d ever done with any other man.

It was just kissing.

Why did it feel like so much more?

When they drew apart briefly, so briefly, for breath, it was just enough time for Millie to gasp, “So you did want to kiss me!”

It was also just enough time for Brady to reply, “Shut up,” right before he caught her lips in another searing kiss, slower than the last and somehow more intense because of it.

Millie wanted to take advantage of their closeness and put her hands all over him the way he was doing to her, but she could not for the life of her seem to get her hands out of his hair. It was exactly as soft as she’d imagined - maybe even softer - and the way he groaned lowly into her mouth when she tugged on it just a little bit too hard was more intoxicating than any alcohol she’d ever consumed.

She knew she was making a mess of him. Knew that he’d have to go all the way back to his hut to redo his hair in the bathroom, return the strands to their rightful positions meticulously like he did every morning - as she imagined, at least. And it brought her joy to imagine him having to hurry back there to do it, lest he get caught and anyone ask why he looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge. He’d have an excellent time trying to explain this, she was sure; the way his tongue was licking hotly into her mouth, the way his hands were dragging reverently over her curves, the way he was pressing his body into hers - all of it would be a tough thing to explain to anyone without blushing.

The foggy haze smothering Millie’s critical thinking cleared only when she heard Freddie’s voice, presumably talking to Jem as the two of them walked to the tower. They’d been taking forever to get ready this morning so Millie had left ahead of them; they would know that something was off if Millie was later than them into work.

Carefully, this time, and with significantly less force, Millie placed her hands on John’s chest and pushed him back. When he started to speak she covered his mouth, narrowing her eyes to make him remain silent, and the two of them listened to Freddie and Jem talking about breakfast before they disappeared into the tower, their voices fading away.

Millie kept her hand over John’s mouth for a few more beats, just to be safe, before finally letting it fall away and sighing. Leaning back against the tower once more, her breaths came heavy, her chest heaving. Still, she found resolve enough within herself to murmur, “Tell no one,” and with that pushed herself upright, skirting around the side of the building and heading into work. She would tell Freddie and Jem she’d been in the bathroom, she decided. There was no reason for them to suspect a thing.

If anyone asked Millie why she was taking so long getting ready tonight, she’d have no real excuse. They all went to the officers’ club often and, yes, they put effort into their appearances, setting their hair nicely and straightening their uniforms and freshening up their makeup after the workday, but no one went to this length. Millie had taken a shower and brushed her teeth and redone her hair and makeup entirely, had put on a fresh pair of tights and the pair of fancy earrings her parents had gotten her for Christmas which she hadn’t yet had the opportunity to wear. She repainted her nails and put on hand cream, plucked her eyebrows and shaved her upper lip.

If anyone asked, she would have to lie.

“Someone you’re trying to impress, Mils?” Jem asked when Millie finally emerged from the bathroom. It was only she and Freddie left in the bedroom of their hut, sitting on their respective beds with their shoes on and their eyes bored, as though they’d been ready and waiting for a while.

“Got all sweaty today,” Millie explained, trying to be casual about it. “Tried to keep my face away from the shower water but when I washed my hair it ruined my makeup so I had to start again.”

“Are you wearing new earrings?” Freddie inquired curiously.

Millie felt herself blushing. She prayed she’d put on enough makeup to hide it. “Got them for Christmas,” she confirmed. “Mum wrote me in her last letter asking if I’d worn them yet and I lied and said yes, so I thought I should probably put them on.”

Freddie smiled, accepting this readily, innocent little flower as she was. “They’re pretty,” she offered. “They make your eyes strikingly green.”

Millie smiled back at her. “Thanks, Fred. And you’re gorgeous as always. You too, Jem.”

“A compliment from Millie Harlow?” Jem gasped in mock shock. “What’s the matter, Mils, you got an upset tummy? Are we all set to be smelling the contents of your stomach when we go to bed tonight?”

Freddie scoffed. “Jem, that is vile.”

Millie just rolled her eyes. “D’you want that drink I owe you tonight, Jem, or do you want me to conveniently forget that it’s my round?”

Jem clamped her mouth shut immediately. “I want that drink,” she said as she rose from her bed.

Millie smiled smugly. “Yes,” she said, “that’s what I thought.”

Millie didn’t speak during the walk to the officers’ club. Her mind was filled with thoughts of one man, of his stupid smirk and his stupid soft hair and his stupid saxophone, which he was no doubt set to spend half the night married to. She tried to imagine what he might say to her, how he might look at her, whether he might try to get her alone. Did she even want him to get her alone? Did she even want to talk to him?

All too suddenly, Jem was pushing into the club and holding the door for Freddie and Millie behind her, then leading them to the bar.

“I’ll have a pint, thanks, Mils,” Jem declared, draping herself over the only available space at the bar with a twinkle in her eye.

Millie rolled her eyes. “I know what you’ll have, you little ponce, because you have the same thing every night.”

“Lemonade, please, Mils,” Freddie added.

Millie scoffed. “No, Fred. Wine or nothing.”

“What is your problem with me and my lemonade?!” Freddie complained, pouting.

Millie simply laughed, leaning past Jem when Atley the barman approached to take their order.

They’d gotten to the club too late tonight to secure themselves a table, so, once they all had their drinks, the three of them found an empty patch of wall to lean against and surveyed the room and its occupants.

Millie kept her eyes carefully diverted from the band just in case Brady was looking at her. She didn’t want to seem eager.

“Your makeup looks nice tonight, Mils,” Freddie spoke into the brief quiet which had fallen. “Did you get a new lipstick?”

“Borrowed Jem’s,” Millie replied easily, taking a sip from her beer.

Beside her, Jem sputtered. “Disgusting.”

“We’re all friends here,” Millie dismissed her.

“It suits you,” Freddie said. “A paler shade of red, no?”

Millie smiled at her sidelong. “I think so. Thanks, Fred.”

Freddie hummed her acceptance of this thanks.

Millie couldn’t take it any longer. Her eyes sought Brady of their own accord, as though they were being pulled there by magnets, and she met his gaze instantly. She had no idea how long he’d been watching her but she liked to think it was a while.

As such, she refused to be the one to break eye contact. She raised her eyebrows at him, a subtle smirk tugging at her lips, before lifting her glass to her lips and taking a slow sip.

Even from all the way over here she could see the bob of his throat as he swallowed.

Her smile was sweet when she lowered her glass.

Brady looked away, turning back to his sheet music.

If Millie didn’t know better, she would have thought she could spy a pale blush in his cheeks.

Millie kept an eye on Brady the entire time the band was playing, trying to force herself to find his saxophone playing unattractive and failing miserably. She only half-listened to the conversation going on around her, mumbling yeses and nos when asked any questions, smiling and laughing when she thought it was appropriate. When some of the other airmen joined them briefly she greeted them warmly but couldn’t help the glances she shot over their shoulders at their fellow pilot where he was playing with the band.

No one noticed, she thought. That was, until she caught Benny DeMarco smirking.

“Something catch your eye, Mils?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet enough that no one else acknowledged their private conversation.

Millie was starkly conscious of the burning in her cheeks. “What?”

Benny shrugged but there was an amused smile playing at his lips. “You just seem awfully interested in the band tonight. ‘S all.”

“I’m not,” Millie replied hastily. “I just - Brady, he - he’s -”

“Staring?” Benny finished for her.

“Yes.” She tipped her chin up defiantly.

“That makes two of you,” Benny observed.

Millie took a long sip of her beer to buy herself time - so long, in fact, that she ended up finishing it. When her glass was empty and she had nothing else to distract herself with, she finally replied, “If you’re trying to imply something, Benny, why don’t you just come right out and say it?”

Infuriatingly, Benny laughed. “Something you want me to say, Mils?”

“Not sure what you mean.”

“Yeah,” Benny said easily. “Funny. Neither was he.”

To anyone else, the timing would have been coincidental. Well, to anyone except Benny. But, secretly, Millie knew exactly what she was doing when she declared she was getting another drink about halfway through the last of the band’s songs.

She was still waiting to order when she felt someone come up on her other side at the bar. “Harlow,” he said.

“Brady,” she replied without turning to look at him.

He laughed. “You spend the whole night staring at me from across the room but won’t even look at me when I’m right beside you?”

“How would you know what I’ve been doing all night,” Millie replied, “unless you’ve been staring back?”

He scoffed but left that line of debate alone.

“Not dancing with any of your thousands of suitors?” he ventured instead.

Millie smiled to herself, tracking Atley as he moved around the bar, preparing drinks for other patrons. “Jealous, are we?”

Brady scoffed lowly. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Still smiling, Millie shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter much to me.”

“I think it would.”

“Think what you like, Brady.”

“Do you wanna dance?” he asked suddenly.

Millie’s eyes shot to his. She blinked at him. “You mean, with you?”

“No,” Brady drawled, “with Meatball.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, with me.”

Millie fought to keep her voice level. “Why would I want to dance with you?”

Brady didn’t take the bait. “I don’t know, Harlow,” he replied simply, staring at her hard, his gaze smouldering, “why would you want to dance with me?”

Swallowing hard, Millie searched his face for a sign he was making fun of her but she came up empty. For once, he looked entirely in earnest. And the longer she took to answer, the more he started to fidget. He was uncertain, she realised. Nervous, maybe.

He thought she was going to say no.

“One dance,” Millie decided, putting both of them out of their misery. “And if you step on my toes you’re dead.”

“Worry about yourself, Harlow,” Brady replied easily, offering his palm to her. “I’ve seen you dance, you’re no Rita Hayworth.”

“And yet, you still want to dance with me,” Millie teased, laying her hand in his. Instantly, he curled his fingers around hers.

“Charity work,” Brady said as he started to lead her to the dance floor.

Millie rolled her eyes.

The two of them had never danced together. The first time they’d even touched had been last night, and they’d been completely alone. With everyone around, in the midst of a sea of couples, it should have felt awkward, uncomfortable, clunky, trying to figure out how they fit together as dance partners. But it didn’t. They slotted together as naturally and as easily as puzzle pieces, the wrong ones forcibly attached for so long that the right ones clicked instantly.

The song was slow. For better or for worse, that gave them time to talk.

Millie could not, for the life of her, keep her eyes off his lips.

“What were you and Benny talking about?” Brady asked when they started to sway together.

Millie let out an amused huff of breath. “None of your business.”

“Did he ask you to dance?”

“No.” He was asking me about you.

“Something about you looks different.”

Better? “New lipstick.”

“Right.”

“I borrowed it from Jem.” Silly thing to say. Why would he care?

“It’s - uh -” He cleared his throat.

Millie’s eyes drew up his face until she could meet his gaze. “It’s what?”

“Nothing,” he decided.

Millie nodded. His gaze was intense. “So you hate it,” she said.

He shook his head. The hold he had on the small of her back tightened slightly. “I don’t hate it,” he assured her softly.

If they had been alone, the both of them knew they would have been kissing by now. How quickly they’d fallen into a routine. This time yesterday they’d only ever dreamed about it, and only late, late at night when it was impossible to hide anything from yourself. Now it was something of a habit, unavoidable when they were in each other’s presence.

It was all either of them could think about.

“I, uh,” Brady began. He tilted his head down closer to hers, speaking so softly his voice felt like feathers. “I’m flying again tomorrow.”

Millie nodded, a slight, almost imperceptible movement of her head. “I know,” she replied. “I work here.”

“Right.” He smiled and breathed a laugh.

Millie smiled right back at him.

“Good luck,” she offered quietly. “On your mission.”

“Thanks.” He nodded. He was staring so deeply into her eyes she felt like she was under a microscope. “I might - uh - I might get you on the radio.”

Millie laughed softly at this. “Only if you’re unlucky.”

He didn’t laugh with her, only kept on gazing deep into her eyes. “Yeah,” he breathed after a moment, when the joke had already passed.

It was impossible not to kiss him when he was looking at her like this, so Millie looked away. She set her eyes over his shoulder at the group of friends she’d left behind, watched as Jem joked with Benny and Freddie played with Meatball, as Dougie leaned lazily against the wall and Hambone came ambling over.

Millie and John were quiet for the rest of the song. Neither of them noticed, but they curled into each other more and more as time wore on, like a pair of mourning doves.

When the song ended and the next was ready to start, they untangled themselves from each other. They gave each other a nod, all formality as they tried to think up something, anything, to say, and parted ways without saying a word. They had only agreed on one dance, after all.

“Harlow,” Brady said as he came up behind her. “Can we talk?”

Silently, Millie sighed. She didn’t turn to look at him. “About what?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re talking,” he said. “In private.”

Millie knew exactly what that meant. They’d done this enough times by now to establish a pattern.

“I’m not in the mood to talk in private with you right now, Brady,” she said quickly, coolly. Freddie was having nightmares again - she hadn’t had nightmares since she’d first transferred to Thorpe Abbotts - so Millie had been up half the night trying to soothe her back to sleep. And Jem wasn’t very well - she’d gone home for the weekend and come back with food poisoning. Not to mention the fact that all this sneaking around was starting to make Millie anxious. She and Freddie and Jem didn’t keep secrets from each other, it wasn’t how they operated. It had taken a lot of courage for Freddie to tell them about Daniel, to open herself up to reliving the trauma of losing her soulmate if just so that Millie and Jem could know her entirely and understand her entirely, too. It felt wrong, after that, to hide this from them - from Freddie especially. She’d never had a friend like Freddie. It wasn’t right that she comforted Freddie about nightmares about her lost love, listened to her recount the gory details of his death and how she’d found out while she assured her everything was going to be okay, all the while sneaking around behind her back with a pilot of her own.

It felt wrong. Dirty. Millie wasn’t sure how she’d even gotten herself into this situation in the first place.

Brady wasn’t so easily dismissed. “What’s wrong?” he asked, falling into step beside her. When she didn’t spare him a glance he hissed out a sigh between his teeth and took a gentle hold of her elbow, tugging her behind him into the alley between buildings. Just like that very first time. The way it had all begun.

“Is this going to keep happening between us?” Millie demanded before Brady could get a word out. “You ask me to talk, in private, we fight, we kiss, and then we pretend to hate each other again. Is this the way it’s always going to be?”

Brady looked bewildered, like she’d just thrown a bucket of ice water in his face. He blinked at her for a few moments, his mouth half-open as he processed her words, and then he clamped it closed and said, “I’m only following your lead, Mils. You don’t exactly go out of your way to give me the time of day when we’re with everyone else.”

Millie rolled her eyes and turned away from him, staring at the patch of sky visible between the edges of the two buildings. “I won’t let you make me into an idiot, John,” she told him firmly. “Men have messed me around before and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Then what do you want from me, Mils?” John demanded. He reached for her hands but she wouldn’t let him take them. “You’re so goddamn difficult to read,” he said. “One second I think you like me, the next I think you’re about to knock my head off my shoulders. One second you act like you wanna dance with me, the next you’re dancing with Benny.” He shook his head with a low scoff. “You want me to show up at your door with roses when you won’t even make it clear to me what you want?”

Millie ground her teeth together and crossed her arms over her chest. She couldn’t think, for a moment, how on earth she wanted to reply. She could be vulnerable or she could be venomous, could pour her heart out to him or make him out to be delusional. She didn’t know which was wiser.

“I hate roses,” she said after a beat. “They’re cliché. And prickly. Any man who gets me roses is a man who doesn’t really know me - or really like me, more to the point.”

John didn’t say anything.

Millie’s heart was pounding in her ears as she ventured, “A man who was really after my heart would know to buy lilies.”

John was quiet for a moment. And then: “Lilies?”

“Orange lilies,” Millie confirmed softly. “They’re my favourite.”

She wasn’t looking at him, but she felt the change in the air around him when his posture loosened and he started to smile. “Of course they are,” he said.

Finally, she turned back to him, but only to narrow her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s so like you,” he said, grinning. “Red roses are everywhere. I can’t remember the last time I saw an orange lily.”

“Maybe you just weren’t looking,” Millie said.

John was still grinning, shaking his head and laughing under his breath. “Do you know how long it’d take a guy to find you orange lilies?”

“If he really liked me, he wouldn’t mind, would he?” Millie fired back, tilting her chin up defiantly. “One day I’ll meet a man who would welcome the challenge because he just wants to make me happy. Don’t concern yourself about it, I’ll find him.”

His smile became strained, hard. “I’m not concerned about it,” he informed her evenly.

“I know you’re not,” she replied. “You’re content to kiss me in dark alleyways like some sort of -”

“Why do you always insist on arguing?!” Brady demanded, cutting her off. “Just when we’re making progress! You shut me out at every available opportunity, send me mixed signals and then complain that I’m not dropping to the ground and shoving an engagement ring in your face!”

“I wouldn’t want you to shove an engagement ring in my face, Brady,” Millie hissed, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “Forget I ever even said anything. I’d be embarrassed if anyone found out I’ve been entertaining your little charade.” She was being spiteful and she knew it but she was embarrassed, so embarrassed, that he was calling her out on her vulnerability. She’d tried to hide it, tried to be casual, but he could see right through her - of course he could! He always did. And now he was making fun of her for wanting more from him than whatever casual arrangement they’d fallen into. It was clear to her now that she’d misread him, had taken for granted that good Catholic boys only ever behaved as such when in reality they only behaved that way with women they were serious about.

Brady’s smile was bitter and full of disbelief. “Mils, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” she snapped. “You won, Brady. You made me into an idiot. Thanks a lot.”

“I didn’t make you into anything,” Brady disagreed. “All I’ve ever done is try to be nice to you -”

“Oh, is that what all this was? You were just being nice? Taking pity on me? God forbid you ever actually listen to a word I say, Brady, but for the last time, you are not the only man who has ever shown an interest in me, hard as that may be for you to believe! Your charity work is over. Congratulations, you passed with flying colours.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?!” Brady demanded as she started to storm away from him. His footsteps were loud and echoing as he followed after her.

“Just leave me alone, Brady, for god’s sake,” Millie said over her shoulder. “Go back to ATA-Alice or literally anyone else, I don’t care. Just leave me alone.”

Brady slowed to a stop, watching in utter bewilderment as Millie turned the corner and stomped off elsewhere. He really and truly had no idea what had just happened. But did he ever, really, with her? She was as infuriating as she was fascinating. He couldn’t stay away from her if he tried, and he had no interest in trying.

There was a rose waiting for her on her desk on Monday morning. A single red rose, all by itself, and Millie wasn’t sure whether to smile or scowl.

“Idiot,” she muttered, and the smile won out.

“Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer, Mils,” Freddie remarked as she took a seat at her own desk. “Did they leave a note?”

“No,” Millie said, still staring down at the rose. Tentatively, she reached out and picked it up, bringing it to her nose to smell.

“Who’s buying you roses?” Jem asked as she took her seat on Millie’s other side.

Millie smiled to herself as she set the rose back down and sat down in her desk chair. “No idea.”

Work that day could not have dragged on any longer. Millie felt like she was being suffocated by the many, many hours which stretched out before her. But, eventually, all the ATA pilots and all of the outgoing planes returned - those which were ever going to return, that was - and she was dismissed.

The other girls went straight to dinner.

Millie knew where she’d find the mastermind behind the stupid rose.

“Save me a seat!” she called over her shoulder to Freddie, Jem, and the rest of the wireless ops. “I’ll only be a minute!” She’d deliberately spilt water on her blouse right before the end of the workday to give herself an excuse to head back to the nissen huts. She wasn’t sure whether she’d really only be a minute. She didn’t think so.

True to prediction, John Brady was dawdling in the grass outside her hut when she approached. He didn’t see her just yet, his hands in his pockets and his head tilted back as he squinted into the sunlight, but she stopped a few metres away so she could really look at him.

He had no business being as handsome as he was. All boyish smiles and innocent blue eyes, biting wit and soft, fluffy hair. How was she ever supposed to come up against him in any significant way when he looked the way he did, said the things he did, acted the way he did? She’d been powerless from the start.

“You,” she called as she finally set her legs back into motion, “are such an arse, John Brady! Even when you’re nice you’re an arse!”

John was grinning when he turned to her. He shrugged. “A little birdie told me you like roses.”

Millie rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle shove when she came to a stop before him. “Shut up,” she said.

She kissed him, then, and couldn’t have given any logical reason for why other than she wanted to. She really, really wanted to.

He certainly wasn’t hurrying to make any complaints.

They wrapped themselves up in each other immediately, instinctively, like this was where they belonged and every second they spent apart was a second the world was off kilter. Anyone might have walked by for any reason and yet neither of them paid the outside world any mind. All of their attention, focus, thoughts were solely on each other.

When they pulled apart they were breathless, so close their chests pressed together as they breathed.

John was smirking. Because of course he was.

“If I knew I was gonna get a kiss anyway,” he said, all cocky and pleased with himself, “I wouldn’t have run around the whole of East Anglia trying to find these.”

He stepped away and Millie reached for him. His smile was soft as he took hold of both of her hands and pressed gentle kisses to the backs of both of them. Then he disappeared behind the door of her hut and emerged a moment later, still smiling, with a bouquet of orange lilies in one hand.

Millie’s smile ached in her cheeks. “You didn’t,” she said.

John shrugged. “I like to think I have my moments.”

“Where did you find them?” she demanded, accepting them from him and cradling them to her chest like a puppy.

John was grinning as he watched her. “Some East Anglian town. I couldn’t pronounce the name even if I remembered it.” He breathed a laugh. “But I thought they might make you happy, so they were worth the trip.” You were worth the trip. Worth an entire weekend pass spent looking for one bouquet of flowers.

Millie was still smiling wildly as she stepped back towards him, still cradling her flowers close to her chest. “Did they take you long to find?”

“A little.” He shrugged. “I didn’t mind.”

Her smile turned sheepish. “I feel like I need to make a confession.”

John’s heart dropped. “Oh.” She had a boyfriend. Or she had a husband. Or she didn’t even like him in that way. Or the flowers were fakes. Or -

“I actually love roses.”

His jaw fell open.

Millie was grinning. “Oops?”

“Millie Harlow,” John said, fastening his hands on her hips and tugging her to him, shaking his head with a wide smile on his lips, “you are such a pain in my ass.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked. She transferred her bouquet into one hand so she could wrap her arms around him, then smiled as she pushed up onto her tiptoes and nudged their noses together. “The feeling’s mutual.”

#watm #millie and brady #my writing #mota #mota oc #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #masters of the air x oc #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction #hbo war #hbo war x oc #john brady #john brady x oc #john brady fanfic #john brady fanfiction

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gwen-pierce · 17 days ago

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Wednesday 10/23/2024, 2:07am

Gwen lay restless in her bed, tossing and turning, kicking one leg up and back down, tossing her arm over her face and then to her side. She slapped the mattress with a huff and sat up, throwing her blankets off herself in a rush to get out of bed. Grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she made her way to her front door. After sliding her feet into a pair of Uggs and grabbing her purse off the table she left her apartment.

The drive to her childhood home in Connecticut took less than 2 hours without any traffic. She ran out of tears by the end of the first hour. As expected, no one was awake as she entered through the garage. She kicked her shoes off by the door and dropped her bag down on the counter. In trance she made it down the hall, up the stairs, and through the last door on the right. By then her body had managed to rehydrate enough that once she fell into her bed she cried herself to sleep. 11:45am “Gwen, sweetie, are you going to be getting out of bed today?” Gregory Pierce’s voice called through the bedroom door she had locked before going to sleep. “No!” She called back, her voice hoarse from the intermittent sleeping and sobbing that had become her never ending cycle of sadness. “Do you want to talk about it? Brooke saw on the camera’s that you got here really late last night, should we be worried?” “NO!” Gwen called again, this time louder. A hysterical shriek that sent her into a whole new wave of emotions that she had to bury her face into her pillow to muffle the sounds until she heard the footsteps of her father retreating down the hall.

5:30pm

“Gwenee..” Brooke’s sickly sweet voice rang through the door and Gwen ignored it, cringing at the nickname from her father coming from her. “If you’re hungry we ordered dinner. Chinese...from that place you like off Main?” The woman tried again to no avail. After a few moments of silence she sighed and tapped the door. “It’ll be in the fridge if you decide you’re hungry later.”

9:56pm “Gwendolyn, I’m coming in.” Gregory said from the other side of the door. She heard him jiggle the knob with a click before the door swung open. Gwen didn’t move from the lump of blankets she was buried beneath in the center of her bed. The OC played on the tv but she stared blankly at the ceiling, not even turning her attention to him as he entered her bedroom.

“Daddy, I don’t want to talk about it.” Gwen finally said after her father hovered in silence for enough time that it was getting awkward.

“You don’t have to talk about it with me but you should answer your friends. This has been vibrating all day and you need to charge it.” Gregory said, handing the cell phone she had left in her purse on the counter over to her. Frowning as she carelessly took the device from him and tossed it onto her bed without another look. “They’re just worried about you, so am I.” He added tenderly, offering a half grin as he added. “Should I call him? Give him a piece of my mind?” The joke fell flat as Gwen shook her head with a sigh.

“It’s not his fault.” Was all Gwen said before she turned her attention to the tv, pretending to be sucked back into the show.

Thursday 10/24/2024 Tatum (10:27am) : Are you still at your dad’s? Tatum (10:27am) : Want me to come over? Tatum (11:03am) : Guess not!!! Tatum (12:43pm) : Make Your Day (tiktok.com) Tatum (1:04pm) : Make Your Day (tiktok.com) Tatum (3:58pm) Missed Cal lTatum (4:00pm) : If you don’t answer me I’m going to assume you’re dead and call the police. Gwen (4:04pm) : Not dead. Only rot. Friday 10/25/2024 Tatum (2:12pm) : Make Your Day (tiktok.com) Tatum (2:15pm) : Make Your Day (tiktok.com) Tatum (3:26pm) : ily Tatum (4:49pm) : Make Your Day (tiktok.com) 7:30pm “Gwen. Can you come downstairs? Please? It’s important.” Gregory called up the stairs to his daughter’s bedroom. “Now.” He added in a tone she hadn’t heard in quite some time. It meant not only was it important, she probably wasn’t going to like it. Not even bothering to pretend she hadn’t been spending the last couple days disassociating in a heap of blankets, she made her way downstairs. Her eyes were red and puffy but the sockets sunken in and dark, her curls were starting to clump together in the places they fell from her bun. She wore the same pajamas she had worn upon her arrival and they were already starting to fit more loosely than before and she was tugging at the waistband before joining her father and Brooke in the living room and plopping down on the couch.

“What?” She said hollowly, looking between them with a narrowed gaze. Both of them remained standing and looking at her, Brooke’s doll-like smile even more exaggerated than usual.

“Well, sweetheart, I know it’s not ideal timing but I have had this plan in place for quite a while…” Gregory began only to be cut off by Brooke’s excited squeal. She lifted her left hand and a huge diamond glittered in the track lighting that hung above him. “We’re getting married.” Gwen’s father cut in before his bride-to-be could begin gushing too excitedly. Gwen’s face remained blank, not taking her eyes off Greg to even look at the ring.

“Why on Earth are you going to do that?” Gwen balked, her face pinched in disgust as she looked between her father and her old schoolmate. “No, seriously, what’s the point? You’re going to cheat on her. She’s going to leave. Take half your shit. It’s going to be mom all over again.” The bitterness that laced her tone was venomous, even for Gwen, but her own heartbreak overshadowed her reasonability and she couldn’t bring herself to play the part of perfect, understanding daughter. Brooke frowned at the outburst but looked to Greg to handle his daughter.

“It is not up for debate or discussion. What I choose to do with my personal life is my business, Gwendolyn, and your judgment will not be tolerated. I do not owe you an explanation of my reasons nor do I need to justify my feelings to you on the matter. I asked Brooke to marry me and she said yes. Case closed.”

“I’m your daughter. My feelings don’t matter? Your choices affect us as a family and you’re saying I don’t matter in that?”

“I am saying that just because you are moping about ruining another relationship doesn’t mean you need to bring down my and Brooke’s happiness. I am sorry you are miserable, sweetheart, I am, but I have learned from my past mistakes and am able to move on in my relationship. Can you say the same?”

“You what?!” Gwen barked, now rising to her feet from the couch as she began to pace the length of the coffee table. “How can you even say that when you got with Brooke after cheating on another 20 something. She’s half your age! Even if you’ve matured, she sure hasn’t. I smoked weed with her out of an apple with her like five years ago!”

“That’s enough.” Gregory said, his ire freezing over from a fiery rage to ice cold. “Go back to the city, Gwendolyn. If you can’t support my life, I will no longer be supporting yours.”

10:02pm

Gwen arrived at Tatum's empty apartment after being turned away by the doorman at the building of her own. In the time it had taken her to drive back to the city, her father had made plenty of calls. She was locked out of her apartment. She didn’t even need to try to know she had been locked out of all her accounts and credit cards. She couldn’t even text Tatum until she made it into her best friend’s apartment and connected to the wifi, since her data plan had been turned off. It wasn’t the first time her father had used these tactics to teach her a lesson but it was the first time he had done them all together. She was completely and totally cut off.

#[gwen: 006]#[tw: depression]

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hayleylatour · 4 months ago

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Finding Peace 🕊️

content warnings- none really, cocky Noah, talks of sex but none as of right now.

Summary- Mia is a 24 year old new bookstore owner who got pregnant by a one night stand with Bad Omens front man Noah Sebastian. Deciding to stay friends and raise their daughter together. What hardships and challenges will they face?

Parings- Baby daddy! Noah Sebastian x OC Mia

Chapter five ~ Mia’s pov

~ 3 days later~

Noah never had to call the guys, with the tour canceled they were able to come home. Jolly called the next morning to tell us they were coming home and to ask how I was and how the baby was. Noah and I decided to take the opportunity of the guys being out to lunch to set up the reveal. We were telling them that we’re having a girl, Ophelia. Noah was hanging a pink banner above the fireplace pink balloons scattered around the living room. the white cake sitting on the kitchen island. they should be here soon and are going to walk into a pink wonderland

“I think it’s enough angel, they’re going to get the surprise. Theres a giant pink banner that says it’s a girl” Noah says stepping down from the ladder.

“Everything has to be perfect. We’re telling them her name tonight too right? Or should we wait till shes born?” I Fidget with the hem of my shirt. Running my hand along my belly tapping my fingers as I go. Ophelia kicks in response. Shes already so loved, she has a whole family that cares about her so much and she doesn’t even know it. I’ve stayed in Noah’s room since the accident. He is still on edge that something is wrong with her, even though my doctor assured him she’s fine and is right on track for a 20 week pregnancy.

“Whatever you decide, I’m sure that they will love her name. It may keep them from calling her a little bean” Noah says pulling me to a hug.

When the guys arrive the excitement is clear on their faces. A choir of voices can be heard throughout the house. This is what family feels like.

“So Mia, do you guys have a name picked out?” Jolly asks sitting down next to me on the couch. I’ve been thinking all night if we tell them her name now or wait till her birth.

“We do but I think we’re going to wait to tell everyone for just a little bit. One surprise at a time.” I laugh as jolly nods. I make eye contact with Noah from the kitchen. Smiling he grabs my cup and makes his way to the living room.

~10 weeks later~

Everything hurts or is starting to hurt. My clothes no longer fit, living in oversized shirts and sweatpants is completely horrible and it doesn’t make me feel any better, as sweet as Noah is to me it continues to piss me off. He doesn’t quite understand that I can do things for myself. He doesn’t understand that his daughter is kicking me in the ribs and bladder at the same time. I can’t look in the mirror without seeing a different person. None of my clothes fit so I look like a slob most of the time. And god dammit I’m frustrated, sexually speaking but emotionally speaking too.

“Noah I really need you to stop fussing over me. I am fine please let me be.” I sigh pulling the glass of water from him and setting it on the counter. He huffs. “I’m grown I can get up and make myself a glass of water and my own lunch. I can walk upstairs without you right behind me, I’m not a child I need you to stop babying me! Christ Noah I’m pregnant I’m not dying!” Tears welling in my eyes.

“Alright what is your fucking problem lately? You’re really starting to piss me off!” Noah says pulling at his roots.

“You wanna know what my fucking problem is? Huh! My problem is I’m so frustrated and tired. My feet are swollen my hips are killing me. I’ve got a foot in my ribs and your daughter is head butting my damn bladder! I can’t see my feet anymore! I’ve got stretch marks in place i didn’t know I could get them! I’m horny beyond belief, and I can’t just ask you to fuck me because god know that you can’t find this attractive anymore! None of my clothes fit right and maternity clothes look like they were made for old people! God Noah I’m not trying to be a bitch but i don’t feel like myself anymore! I cant look in the mirror anymore. I mean fuck man!” I say tears now streaming down my face Noah’s features soften

“I’d still have sex with you, i just didn’t wanna hurt her or you. I find you incredibly attractive. Angel I will have sex with you. Will that make you be nicer to me, you need me to make that attitude change with some dick?” He says stepping into my space as his hand cup my face sliding one hand into my hard. His lips so close I can taste to mint on his breath. Whimpering I close the space enveloping his lips. His tongue swipes across my bottom lip and I immediately grant him access. I don’t fight him for dominance, at this point id gladly give it up for him.

Pulling away he smirks “that’s all it took for you to be slightly nicer. Huh? I’ll have sex with you angel all you have to do is ask baby. I still find you sexy as hell Mia.” He says before lowering his lips to mine once more.

“Upstairs, please Noah” I whisper as I step away pulling him to the staircase. Laughing he scoops me up bridal style taking the steps two at a time before kicking the door shut and laying me on the bed.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band #nick folio #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #badomenscult #badomens #concrete jungle #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian smut

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rebelwrites · 9 months ago

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Eighteen: He Wants To Play Cupid

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

“Bro, get that coffee machine on!” I hollered over my shoulder as I kicked my Nikes off, not bothering to place them back on the shoe rack, “make yourself at home boys.”

Jax appeared from the kitchen, his brow cocked, “and why can’t you make the coffee?” he hummed.

“Urm, because I don’t wanna and I’m going to get changed,” I smirked, running up the stairs to my room. The moment I had shut the door behind me I stretched my fingers out, hissing at the tightness, looking down I noticed the dried blood spread across my skin, how I managed to split my knuckles, it wasn’t like I punched a brick wall but then again Ima’s face was 90% plastic so it made a little sense. Shaking my head, I ignored the sudden stinging coming from my hand as I tugged my clothes off leaving them in a pile on the floor.

I wanted to be comfy so I grabbed my oversized Ferrari shirt and bike shorts.

The sound of laughter coming from downstairs made my heart skip a beat, it was safe to say Elenor adored Charles and Pierre. The bond they had formed in such a short space of time was special and I think Jax was starting to get a little jealous of the amount of time his daughter was spending with her new ‘uncles’. My chest tightened at the thought of her having to say goodbye to her two new favorite people, she was going to be distraught. No matter what happened with me and Charles I was going to make sure that I kept in contact with them because I wasn’t going to break her little heart.

My head was still spinning from the comments about being in love with Charles, I didn’t think it was obvious I was falling hard for him but apparently even though I tried to hide it everyone around me, including the man himself could see I was.

“Nova if you aren’t down here in 5 seconds I’m pouring your coffee down the sink!” Jax shouted up the stairs.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare!”

“5”

“You asshole.”

“4”

“Have I told you how fucking annoying you are?”

“3”

“Fuck off.”

“2”

“Shit,” I cursed as I tripped over my own feet on the top of the stairs, “I'm coming.”

“1”

“Pops, Jax is being annoying again,” I shouted, sprinting down the stairs, trying not to land on my ass. The last thing I wanted was to end up in hospital with broken bones because Jax was threatening my coffee.

“You had your chance,” Jax sang as he sauntered back towards the kitchen.

“Lay one hand on my mug and I will cut your balls off with your own knife,” I growled, jumping from the third step up, sticking the landing on the hallway floor. I was struggling to get traction due to my socks on the polished hardwood floors. “Jackson Nathaniel Teller, don’t you walk away from me!” I screeched, sliding down the hallway trying to catch my brother.

“Nova, stop screeching,” Pops scolded, standing in the opening of the kitchen blocking my path, meaning I crashed straight into him.

“But Pops, he started it,” I whined, pouting at him, “I’m only finishing it.”

“Jax, stop winding your sister up,” Pops chuckled, shaking his head before entering the kitchen.

Narrowing my eyes at my brother I shoved him out of the way but I didn’t miss my chance to jab him in the ribs as I moved him away from my coffee, “make yourself useful and go get the living room set up for movie night.”

The moment Jax left, an awkward silence fell over me and Pops. I hadn’t properly spoken with him since his last episode, we made little comments with each other but things had changed. I hated the tension between us, this was the man that saved my life, the man who was always in my corner fighting when I was at my weakest and here I was fighting his decision on moving into a care home.

“Pops,” I whispered, leaning against the worktop finally looking up at the man that was my hero, “I know we need additional help but,” I paused, feeling myself choking on my own words, the tears threatening to spill over my lashline, “I feel like if we shove you in a home we have failed you.”

The coffee was long forgotten about as I hid my face in my hands, the moments the words left my lips I felt a slight shift in the weight I was carrying on my shoulders. I had never admitted to him just how I felt about him going into a facility.

“Tellers never quit on family.” I sobbed.

Pops pulled me into his arms, squeezing me tight, running his fingers through my hair. something he used to do to soothe me when I was a child, “I could never think you failed me, my sweet angel,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against the top of my head, “I can see how much pressure this is putting on both you and Jax and the last thing I want is to be a burden on either of you.”

I found myself gripping his shirt, hanging on for dear life. There was no way I was going to put him into a home, “we can get through this, Pops,” I cried, “we can get help, Charles made that donation so we can get someone in, someone to take the pressure off. The fucking wheels haven’t fallen off yet and I won’t let them,” I whispered, looking up at him.

“Thought that was an anonymous donation,” Pops chuckled.

“What 16 thousand dollars? Bit obvious if you ask me,” I said with a weak smile, “the boy is as subtle as me and Jax trying to sneak into the house after we had been drinking underage.”

A warm smile appeared on his face, like he was remembering the years me and Jax were absolute trouble makers, “I guess you are right,” he hummed, leaning in, pressing a kiss against my forehead, “if you want to get some assistance then we can look into it, but I want you to at least take a look at some of the places I have found. At least then we have covered all options because sweetheart I am only going to get worse.”

Taking a deep breath, I knew he was right but then again he always was, “okay, I will have a look into them.”

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered, giving me one last squeeze before he took a step back. “now, dry your eyes, take a deep breath, let's go enjoy movie night,” he smiled, pausing for a moment, “oh and tell your man exactly how you feel.”

“Why does everything think he is my man?” I asked, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hands, “we are just having some fun whilst he is on summer break.”

“Oh my sweet Nova, everyone can see that this isn’t just some fun for him. That boy is smitten for you, he practically has heart eyes when he looks at you,” he beamed, wrapping his heart around my shoulder he pressed a kiss against the side of my head, “I can see you holding back, don’t forget I know how hard you love.”

“It’s all going to come to an end in two weeks anyway, I know it’s gonna hurt like a bitch when he leaves so yes I might be protecting myself a little and holding back,” I mumbled, resting my head on his shoulder.

“True love doesn’t knock very often, I’ve seen the assholes you have dated and Charles is the best thing to ever happen to you,” he said softly.

“No, the best thing to happen to me was you, Pops,” I smiled, placing my hand over his.

“Okay, second best thing then,” he chucked, “what I am trying to say is don’t shut the door in his face, his love is true and pure and that is rare, so when a love like this appears, you need to let it in, you need to embrace it with open arms. You may not believe this but he is your soulmate, we can all see it. So, please just let yourself fall madly in love with him, if anyone can work a long distance relationship it’s you and Charles.”

His words rang loud in my mind, it was like I suddenly saw everything clearly. My heart was screaming out for the man that was causing my niece to fill the living room with laughter. Charles fit right in with my crazy ass family and everyone loved him.

Taking a deep breath I grabbed my coffee mug and made my way into the living room. The moment my eyes landed on Charles my heart skipped a beat, he looked up from Elenor, flashing me that perfect smile. Ignoring the look on Jax and Pierre’s face I made my way around the room, placing my mug on the side table that was next to the love chair. The minute the mug hit the wooden top I felt Charles wrap his arms around my waist pulling me onto his lap, causing me to squeal.

“Alright, love birds, get comfy and let's start this movie night,” Jax huffed, waving the tv remote in the air.

Flipping him off, I repositioned myself so I had my legs over Charles before pulling a blanket over the two of us. I couldn’t help but smile as Charles pressed a kiss against the top of my head, “you’ve been crying,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

“I’m okay, promise,” I whispered, resting my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, “things are going to be okay.”

The hours passed by, I spent the whole time snuggled up to Charles not really paying attention to the movies, Pops’ words kept replaying over and over in my mind. I had spent so long worrying about this ending I hadn’t been truly focused on the moment but all that was going to change. I was going to let myself completely fall madly in love with the Monégasque that had sped into my life flipping it upside down. I needed to stop hiding behind the walls I had spent so long building, Charles had shown me he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m gonna take her up to bed,” Jax said softly, pulling me from my thoughts. Looking up I saw him scooping Elenor up from Pierre’s chest, she had officially claimed him as her spot for the evening. “I think I’m gonna call it a night as well, today has wiped me out,” before I could speak a loud yawn escaped my lips, I had been trying to hide the fact I was exhausted, “sounds like you need to go to bed as well,” Jax hummed, adjusting his grip so he didn’t drop his daughter.

“Not tired,” I lied, snuggling further into Charles trying to keep my eyes open.

“We should be heading off, it’s getting late,” Charles whispered, pressing a kiss against my forehead.

A wave of sadness washed over me, I didn’t want Charles to go. I wanted to spend as much time as possible with him before he had to leave. I couldn’t help but cock my brow at Pops, he had a smirk on his face that I hadn’t seen in a while.

“Stay the night,” he grinned, glancing between Charles and Pierre.

I couldn’t believe the words that casually fell out of my father’s lips, I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights, even Jax had frozen on the spot. Pops had been really weird with people staying in the house overnight, I knew he felt like people were judging us all, especially with all of the sticky notes that were scattered around the house so this was kind of a big deal for him.

“Hell, move your stuff over from the lodge if you want,” he grinned, running his hand through his graying hair, “ain’t like you’ve been spending much time there anyway.”

For once in my life I found myself lost for words, never in a million years did I think he would invite Charles and Pierre to live with us for the rest of their stay. Looking over to my brother I found him staring back at me with a cat eating the canary grin as Pops pushed himself off the sofa leaving the room without saying another word.

“That son of a bitch,” I finally breathed once I was sure Pops was out of earshot, leaning forward I ran my hands over my face trying to fully process everything.

“What just happened?” Charles hummed, resting his hand on my lower back.

Jax let out a low chuckle, adjusting his grip on Elenor who was sound asleep resting her head on his shoulder, “it seems like Pops is having an extremely good day so he has decided he wants to play cupid. But let's face it Squirt, Charles will be in your bedroom most of the time,” Jax chuckled.

“Thought you were going to bed,” I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Come on man, I will show you where the guest room is,” Jax said, turning to Pierre. I watched as they strolled out of the living room but Jax stilled for a moment, looking over his shoulder with that stupid smug smirk on his face. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he winked, causing me to groan and flip him off.

Soon enough it was just me and Charles left in the living room, a comfortable silence washed over the two of us. The air around us had changed, it was heavier now. The moonlight creeping through the blinds caused his green eyes to sparkle. He reached up tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before leaning closer. The moment his soft lips pressed against mine I felt my stomach flip, everything felt so right with him, our movements were in sync. It was suddenly clear to me that he was the missing piece of the puzzle, the part I had been searching for my whole life.

He adjusted his position, flipping me in the process so he was now hovering over me. His hands were roaming my thighs as he deepened the kiss. The heat of it was driving me insane, I was turning to putty in his hands, he had this power over me that I didn’t try to stop.

Wrapping my arms around his neck I slowly pulled away from him, resting my forehead against his. As much as I wanted to see where this kiss led, I knew I wasn’t ready and there was no chance I was going to go there with my dad and brother in the same house.

“Allons nous coucher. Let's go to bed,” I whispered against his lips.

“Show me the way, Sunshine,” he said slightly out of breath.

I thought he would be disappointed that this sudden make out session wasn’t leading anywhere but the moment I looked into his eyes those worries slipped away. His green eyes were shining bright with love, not disappointment, it was at that moment I realized something. Pops was right. This was my chance to be truly happy with someone that loved every inch of me and didn’t care about my upbringing or that I wasn’t some famous model. He loved me for who I was.

Charles Leclerc was my soulmate.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @burningcupcakefire @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagine

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mysticstarlightduck · 4 months ago

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New Tag Game! Character Aesthetic Deep-Dive! <3

Making a new tag game because I'm inspired and want to show the world my aesthetics from Scrapyard Boys, so here we go!

Rules: Make a moodboard with your character's aesthetic, a playlist that fits their vibe, "badly summarize them" (like, talk about their personality, but funnily), etc. It absolutely does not need to be super detailed!!!!!

✦ Character Aesthetic: Adrien Rosetrom, WIP -Scrapyard Boys

♡ Moodboard ♡

♡ Playlist ♡

Fur Elise - Faouzia

I'll dance, I'll dance like a puppet on your string I'll sing when you order me to sing I'll ring like a desperate violin [...] So play me like my name is Fur Elise Lie to me and say you'll never leave Drown me in your twisted melodies I'll pretend you wrote 'em all for me

For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert

Let's go, it's my show Baby, do what I say Don't trip off the glitz That I'm gonna display I told ya I'ma hold ya down until you're amazed Give it to ya 'til you're screaming my name [...] Oh, I bet you thought that I was soft and sweet You thought an angel swept you off your feet Well, I'm about to turn up the heat I'm here for your entertainment

Ashes - Stellar

Ring around the rosie Pocket full of posie I'ma fucking blow all the ashes down Ring around the rosie Pocket full of posie I'ma fucking go crazy for you now

Break Stuff - Limp Bizkit

It's just one of those days when you don't wanna wake up Everything is fucked, everybody sucks You don't really know why, but you wanna justify Rippin' someone's head off No human contact, and if you interact Your life is on contract Your best bet is to stay away, motherfucker It's just one of those days It's all about the he-says-she-says bullshit I think you better quit lettin' shit slip Or you'll be leavin' with a fat lip

Shut Up! - Simple Plan

There you go, you're always so right It's all a big show, it's all about you You think you know what everyone needs You always take time to criticize me It seems like everyday I make mistakes I just can't get it right It's like I'm the one you love to hate But not today So shut up, shut up, shut up, don't wanna hear it Get out, get out, get out, get out of my way Step up, step up, step up, you'll never stop me Nothing you say today is gonna bring me down

♡ Badly Summarized OC ♡

Angsty young adult makes bad life decisions he knows he will regret later but enjoys the Vibes tm

Troublemaker who can barely take care of his own mental health ends up the unwilling guardian of two traumatized teenagers

Drama queen incarnate who loves some good Tea, but also cries while watching romantic comedies

Rockstar wannabe kicked out by bigoted grandmother still makes it alright in the end

Somehow the best and worst older sibling in the world at the same time

"I HAVE THE POWER OF ENERGY DRINKS AND ANIME ON MY SIDE OOOOO"

Irresponsible 25-year-old too angry to give a damn

BREAKING NEWS: Local stripper makes mob boss regret his very existence, while having The Time of His Life

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@the-golden-comet, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @ominous-feychild, @finickyfelix

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @the-letterbox-archives @differentnighttale,

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

#wip scrapyard boys #oc: adrien rosetrom #writers #writers on tumblr #writerblr #my wips #writing #writeblr #my characters #character writing #my writing

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grxmreaperx · 1 year ago

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See You in Hell Pt. 1

hey guys! this is the first part of the OC story i've been working on! not much of Mark in this one, mostly setup for the story, but he is in it! also still working on a title! hope you guys like it <3

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Lana Walker (OC)

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: canon violence (Jigsaw trap)

Summary: After exacting some long-awaited revenge, Lana Walker finds herself stuck in a Jigsaw trap. And the creators have taken a special interest in her.

“Hello, Lana. I’d like to play a game.”

Fuck.

My head spun as I opened my eyes. The bare lightbulb above my head illuminated the stone room. Cool metal pressed against my neck, the weight pulling my head down.

“Does revenge make you feel better, Lana? Did killing that man bring your friend back? Or do you just enjoy being cruel?”

I groaned, eyes lifting to meet the screen in front of me.

“You use sex and alcohol to fill the void your friend left, trying to prove to yourself that you have control. I am here to give you your life back, Lana. Around your neck is a device that is rigged with blades. After this tape is finished, you have two minutes to retrieve both keys needed to unlock the device. If you do not retrieve both keys, the device will constrict, slicing your throat.”

My heart beat faster, suddenly aware of the blades inches from my neck.

Jigsaw.

I had heard about him on the news, his fucked-up games meant to rehabilitate.

“One key you already have. You simply need to look inward.”

My hands scanned my body, pulling away quickly when I felt the blood soaking my side. Lifting my shirt, I ran a finger over the fresh stiches. Motherfucker.

“The second key will be slightly harder to get. There is a man, chained down in the corner of the room. I’m sure he looks familiar to you. He is in possession of the second key. And you will need him to unlock the second lock. How far are you willing to go to save yourself, Lana? Are you willing to work with a man whose death you have fantasized about? Live or die, Lana. Make your choice.”

That’s when I saw him. Slumped in the corner, leg chained to the wall. Unconscious. The judge.

The television clicked off. The timer began clicking down. Game on.

My hands roamed over my tools: a knife and a key, left to me for my game. Head clearing, eyes suddenly in focus, I jumped up. He had placed a mirror on the wall. You will need him to unlock the second lock.

I turned, examining the device around my neck. One lock laid on my chest. The other on my back, just out of reach. Goddamn it.

I quickly swooped down, grabbing the knife in one hand and the key in the other, before frantically trying to stuff the key into the first lock. Not a fit.

I took a breath, stalking towards the man in the corner. I slowly approached him, assessing to see if he was really unconscious. I landed a kick on his leg, startling him awake.

“Get the fuck up.”

“Where am I? Who are you?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask. And I’m the person you’re stuck in this sick game with. Now get the fuck up.”

He staggered to his feet, almost tripping over the chain binding him. Suddenly, he winced, grabbing his side. He lifted his shirt, stiffening as he saw the twin to my stiches. He looked at me, fear in his eyes. “What do we have to do?”

I steadied myself. 1:30 left.

I tore a piece of fabric from the bottom of my shirt, stuffing it in my mouth and biting down before lining the knife up with the fresh incision.

“What – what are you doing?” he stuttered, eyes wide and fixed on my exposed skin.

I pressed the knife into the wound, nails digging into my other palm. The sound of stiches snapping filled my ears, white spots filling my vision. Sweat dripped into my eyes as I forced a finger into the open wound, digging for the key. I screamed around my gag, biting down so hard I would’ve bit my tongue off if it weren’t for the piece of my shirt. My finger hit something hard, and I pulled, desperate to stop the pain. I heard metal clang onto the floor, the blood coated key lying at my feet. I crouched, gripping tightly to the key, and fixed it into the first lock.

I heard it pop open, falling to the floor. I spit the fabric out of my mouth my eyes fell onto the man. “Your turn.”

His head was down, eyes fixed on a piece of paper, scanning the words written for him. He looked up at me, his face shifting from afraid to determined. “Give me the key.”

0:59.

“No.”

He began palming around his back, before pulling a blade out of his waistband. “I said give me the key, you bitch.”

“You first,” I said, motioning to his side.

He tossed the paper aside before lunging at me, knife swinging through the air. “What the fuck!”

“It was you. He’ll let me out, he’ll let me out, I just have to do this. Come here!”

I jumped back, narrowly avoiding the tip of his blade. “Just relax, okay! I’ll give you your key if you just drop the knife.”

He was sobbing now, tears rolling down his face. “I can’t, I can’t! I have to do this!”

I grabbed his wrist as he swung at me again, spinning my back to him, and driving an elbow into his throat. He gagged, staggering backwards. I planted a foot on his chest, pushing him to the ground and kicking the knife away from his hand.

0:45. Fuck.

I kneeled over him, raising the knife above my head. “You wanna see how far I’ll fucking go, Jigsaw?” I screamed into the barren room, before plunging the blade into the judge’s side. He yelled, head falling back against the concrete as I dug my hand into his skin.

I pulled key number two out of his blood. The man was quickly fading, there was no way he would be able to unlock the collar.

0:30.

My eyes darted around the room, searching for anything I could use.

Until they landed on his hand. And the bloodied knife I gripped tightly.

I stuffed my second key into his hand, wrapping his fingers tightly around it. I lined the knife up with his wrist, forcing the blade down through skin and bone. I sawed at his appendage, placing all my weight onto the blade. Finally, his hand fell from his arm, the little remaining life in his eyes quickly fading.

I grabbed the hand, blood coating my own, and rushed to the mirror.

0:15.

I reached my arm behind me, quietly praying for the first time in my life that this plan would work, that I would be able to do this. My eyes were fixed on the mirror, turned just enough that I could see my arm straining towards the lock. I could almost feel the blades piercing my neck, severing my head from my body.

My muscles strained as I reached, trying to fit the key clasped in the dead man’s hand into the lock hanging on my back. For a moment, I thought it wouldn’t reach, I thought this would be the room I die in.

0:10.

The key locked into place.

The padlock clanged to the ground and the collar loosened. I tore the thing from my neck, throwing it towards the corner of the room. I watched in horror as the device constricted, blades forming a circle the size of a quarter.

I forced air into my lungs, collapsing to the ground.

That’s when I remembered his note. I crawled over to his body, grabbing the paper.

Hello, Judge Morrison. The woman before you is a killer. If you wish to make it out of this room alive, you must strike first.

Motherfucker.

My vision began to fade, and the thought hit me: what now?

Would someone come get me? Or is this some rigged game, Jigsaw watching me bleed out on the floor after beating his sadistic trial?

Just as I thought my fate was to rot here, a door opened on the far side of the room. A large figure loomed in the doorway, making its way over to me. I gripped the knife, one hand clutching my side.

“You fucking did this to me.” I raised the knife as best I could, determined to get out of this room alive.

“Wrong guy, sweetheart. You wanna meet the one that did this? I suggest you put that knife down.”

“Show me your hands. How do I know you’re not just going to finish me off?”

He raised his gloved hands, letting out a small laugh. “Because that’s not how he works.”

My grip tightened on the knife. “I’ll go with you. But I take the knife with me.”

“I think you’re forgetting you’re not the one in control here.”

My gaze fell to the floor, trying to weigh my options, heading spinning. I sighed, letting the knife fall from my hand.

“Good idea,” he said, before moving towards me. I tried to push myself to my feet until I felt his arm hook around my legs, roughly lifting me onto his shoulder. I tried to stifle a groan, my open side pressing against his jacket.

I screwed my eyes shut, the bright light a stark contrast as he carried me out of the dark room. My head pounded, burying my face in his jacket to keep the light from my eyes.

I heard a door open and suddenly I was thrown onto a table. I forced my eyes open, finding myself in a makeshift hospital room, my body lying on what looked like an operating table. I pressed myself up, sitting up on the table and taking in the figure in front of me.

He had removed his hood and his gloves, shedding his now blood-soaked jacket as well. He ran a hand through his dark hair, trying to fix the mess his hood had made. He was tall with broad shoulders. I tried to assess his build, his strength, trying to figure out what part to aim for if I needed to run.

“Get your shirt off.”

“Excuse me?” I swung my legs over the side of the table, trying to plant them on the ground before he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back down.

“If you want that side stitched up, you’re gonna have to take your shirt off.”

I hesitated, assessing the man as he gathered a needle and thread from a first aid box.

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, full lips pulling into a smirk. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. This is just part of my job.”

I slowly complied, pulling my ruined shirt over my head, and setting it beside me on the table. “Do I at least get a new shirt? Since you and your ‘boss’ ruined mine.”

“You look like you’re ready to pass out and you’re worried about a new shirt?”

“I asked a question.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, fine. I’ll get you a new shirt.” He made his way over to the table, placing himself next to my legs as he sterilized the needle. He examined the wound, placing a rough hand on the skin of my stomach. He let out a small noise, almost sounding impressed.

“Pretty clean. At least made it easy for me.” Without warning, he stuck the needle in my side, carefully sewing up the incision. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, feeling the sweat dripping down the back of my neck.

“Would you hurry the fuck up? Or do you just like seeing people in pain?”

“Do you want it done right or do you want it done quickly?”

“Both, would be preferable.”

He poked the needle into my side, above the wound, looking at me with a cocky smile. “Oops. Sorry, was trying to hurry it up.”

I wanted to take a fist to his nose, wiping that look off his face. Restraining myself, I grit my teeth until he was finished, wiping a cloth covered in alcohol over the stiches.

“There. Feel better?”

“Yeah, I feel fantastic. What do you think?”

He chuckled, grabbing my shirt off the table, and throwing it in a nearby trashcan before making his way to a duffle bag on the table next to mine. He unzipped the bag, digging around until he pulled out a button-down shirt and throwing it in my direction.

I stuck my arms into the large shirt, pulling it over my chest and buttoning it up.

“Better, your majesty?”

I gave him a stiff smile. “So, what now? I beat your fucking game. Can I go home now?”

“Not yet. Someone wants to meet you.”

“Do I get a choice in that?”

“No, but you get to choose if you’ll be good or if I need to tie you to a chair.”

“You’re hilarious, you know that? You’ve made this whole experience so much better.” I slowly stood, steadying myself as I glared at him.

“Does that mean I need to tie you down?”

“Fuck you.” After a moment of silence, I said, “Fine. Where is he? And if you try and tie me down, I’ll rip your hands off.”

He shook his head. “So angry, aren’t you? Follow me.” He nodded his head to another door at the far side of the room, stalking over to it as I followed behind.

“Are you going to tell me who you are?”

“We’ll see.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

We walked down a long hallway in silence. He pushed open the door at the end, leading me into a large workshop. It was filled with tools, blueprints, hunks of metal. More traps.

He pulled over a chair, motioning for me to sit. I kept my eyes locked on him as I settled into the chair.

My hands gripped the arm rests, weighing my options.

Before I could make a move to run, I heard a door open.

tag list: @bee-who-isnt-french, @enigmatic-blues, @kujofam, @aliengutzstuff, @mysunfishpeedinmyroom, @slut4hoffman, @schrodingersjigsaw, @hoffmansnightmare, @karmaswitch, @mrs-hotforhoffman, @returntodustsblog, @capan-deveraux2, @switchbabeeexo, @librababe99, @sweetsunflowerkisses

#saw #saw franchise #fanfic #mark hoffman #fanfiction #oc #mark hoffman x oc

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spacecatbowtie · 11 months ago

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I know why - path 1: Dom Din

Interactive story (Path 1 of 3)

Base story | Path 1: Dom Din | Path 2: Dark Din | Path 3: Sweet Din

After the base story, this is one of the endings. Dominant Din.

Warnings: Explicit MDNI 18+

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

Chapter word count: 4k

AO3

Tags: #Angst #Smut #Porn With Plot #Mando needs to work on his communications skills #unprotected p in v #Fingering #First POV #no mention of oc name #No use of y/n #I hate y/n #OC wants to be taken care of #OC wants to be independent #kinda forced proximity #Exhibitionism #Interactive #Daddy Dom Din Djarin #sweet din #switch Din

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

I jerk my hand out of his grasp. "Don't pretend to have empathy all of a sudden.. bounty hunter."

Calling him by the name of his profession, seems to kick him into his feral mode again. Because as soon as the attempt of degrading insult left my lips, it is followed by a pathetic squeal, as his hand shoots up to grab my neck and draw me closer. "Damned girl" He grunts "I don't want you hurt, that is why I didn't allow you to go with me on hunts." With big eyes I look at him, no sensible thought is able to form in my head. "Another reason I do not let you come, is because you distract me." A nervous laugh that sounds more like a wheeze, due to the tight grasp on my neck is the first thing out of my mouth. He does not budge when I push against his chest. "Are.. am.. How.. In what way do I distract you?" The struggle with those words is not just because of the obstruction around my neck. The grip of his hands on my body tighten slightly for a second, as if he is trying to feel those parts in detail. "In what ways don't you…" His voice is horse and soft. "What are you implying?" He can not mean what I think he means. No response. The arm that is not currently holding my neck hostage clumsily moves to my hip. His thumb starts to rub his in little circles there. He is teasing me. I know it. He is probably laughing at me underneath his stupid helmet. He has known all this time.

"Stop torturing me, stop using my feelings for you against me!" This does get a reaction out of him. Immediately after I spoke the words he draws back a little and he seems to look in to my eyes. "You have feelings for me?" "Yea duh!" I almost burst out in laughter, and can just about stop myself from mocking him with an bad imitated voice. "Don't pretend you don't know. I know what you are doing." How stupid does he think I am? "with your 'sweet girl'" I use my low voice impression of him here anyway. He does not appear to appreciate my imitation of him. The setting sun reflects its orange glow on his armour when he turns us both. He is facing the wall now, and I stand with my back against it. "You assume too much about me." "What does that mean?" I shove his chest plate again.

No reaction.

Okay, I am done. When pushing against his chest does not work, I try to claw his hands from my throat. What in the hell does he mean? why is he always so infuriating and confusing. He seriously needs to work on his communication skills. "Be clear for once in your life, and tell me what you mean!" I don't know where this build-up rage suddenly comes from. Maybe because he caught me running from him, or it's from pushing down my feelings all this time, maybe it is his reaction that of lack thereof that angers me. Whatever it is, the only thing I can do is fight him. My hands thug at his arm and wrist, so hard my fingers start hurting. My feet and legs kick at him, trying to escape his firm uncomfortable hold on me.

Perhaps I fight against the physical, just the same as the mental hold he has on me. Him being himself draws me in, his voice, his posture. Hell, even the way he walks makes me want to consume him with everything I have. It makes me want to worship him, and it scares me. During my tantrum he has been incredibly still. His grip does not falter, he does not even seem to breathe. "I swear if you don't let me go and tell me what is going on I will literally kill you!" Finally, he speaks. But from everything he could have said, I did not expect this. "Maker, I really want to have sex with you right now." My body freezes. "Excuse me?" I must have misheard that. "You know what I said." The hand on my hip moves to my stomach. "Can I touch you?" Time seems to freeze. I am aware of everything, the cold wall against my back, the setting sun encasing the man before me. The man that now wants to give me what I've imagined during so many day dreams. All I can do in response is nod. The voice that was full of fury just before, is lost now. "Okay, I will take care of you." His hand slides slowly over the boning of my corset, leaving a hot boiling feeling there. "Breathe, girl"

Sure enough, I had forgotten to do that. Steadily I blow out a deep breath.

His fingers continue downwards, past the rim of my pants. It is quite a tight fit with his big hand there. He takes a step closer, so as not to put his arm in an uncomfortable angle. His chest touches my face, draining me in his overwhelming smell. I think I am even more sensitive to everything about him right now.

Clamping my fingers behind the edges of his chest plate, to pull him even closer. His breathing sounds heavy above me. He is no longer taking hold of my neck anymore, the hand is now supporting himself against the wall above my head. Perhaps he is handling the tension of this situation worse than me.

The leather of his glove finally touches my skin. It is as if the reality of the situation is just now kicking in. Other than tense, I feel apprehensive and self-conscious now. Why is he acting this way now, it is too big of a change. I always thought he hated me. And now He stands here before me, with his hand down my pants.

His armour is hard and cool when I let my head lean against it. Closing my eyes, I try to stop myself from shaking.

Breathe.

Why is he doing this? Does he like me too in that way? Or is he doing this to apologize for acting angry with me? He must notice my sudden shyness, because he pulls his hand back. Blinking I force myself back in the present. "No, you dont have to stop. Unless you want to, but I-" His finger touches my lips, to hush me. "I know." He proceeds to pull of his gloves. "I need you to be relaxed for me."

The view of his naked hands in front of me, makes my brain do anything but being relaxed. I have never seen any part of his skin before, let alone his full hands. I wasn't even sure he was human or just humanoid. But hell is he human! His hands are big. I knew that, I could see that with his gloves on. What I could not see before, is how long and thick his fingers are. And how the muscles shift when he moves his hand. The hand that moves even closer, and finally touches me. His warm skin caresses my cheeks. "I will take care of you." He tells me again.

I nod my head and rest it back against the wall. "Yes, okay."

Not knowing what to do with my hands, i rest them on his biceps, feeling his hard arms, capable of handling me in any way he wants. Slowly he moves his bare hand down my stomach, dipping underneath the waistband again.

Breathe.

The tips of his fingers reach the wet spot between my legs, only now I can feel how excited I am for him. I close my eyes and hide my face by dipping it down. But my head falls back as he digs the rest of his fingers between my lips.

"Oh fuking stars." I breathe and I step a little wider, so he has better access.

A low sound rumbles in his chest as wetness coats his hand. He explores me slowly, caressing softly back and forth, but every time he only skims over my entrance. Finally he dips one of his fingers a little more in, but then abandons it, making me let out a pathetic whine. He chuckles darkly as he teases me more, without touching my clit or my entrance in the way I need.

Clinging to his arms, I look up at him. "I thought you were going to take care of me." I grit my teeth. "All you do is put me on edge, but you never d-"

His fingers are inside me. I think it's two but I can't be sure. Even though I am all wet and slippery, the stretch makes me gasp.

"Oh, yes, Maker."

He pulls out again, and then slowly inserts them again, hooking his fingers as he pulls them back out. "It's not the Maker that is making you feel this way, girl."

"Mando, please." This man is making me beg. I never beg, maybe sometimes to get what I want as I look up at him with puppy eyes, but I never truly beg and mean it. For weeks, for months I have been watching him, with a growing feeling of butterflies in my belly when he is close, when he addresses me, when he grunts as he lifts something heavy. Now, this man has me pressed up against the wall with his hand down my pants, making me feel all kinds of wild.

"Is this what you wanted? For me to make you feel good?" His voice is rough, breathing heavily. He inserts another finger carefully and painfully slow.

I respond with an affirming mewl.

"For how long have you wanted this?"

Am I going to tell him the truth? Am I going to admit that I have been wanting him badly for two and a half months, if not more, and that I basically fantasized about him since the day I laid eyes on him? His fingers dig deeper inside me, the palm of his hand angled so it rubs my clit. I grind my hips against him, searching for the release I crave.

"Tell me, girl. For how long have you wanted me to touch you?"

It's hard to think with his hand making me feel all sorts of new things. But i try my best to answer him. "Since you told me to get some sleep."

His movements slow as he listens to my soft voice.

I continue. "After you cleared out a room for me."

He draws his hand back, and I stiffen, afraid to have said something wrong. Did I come across as too desperate? pathetic?

His fingers glisten in the twilight, as he looks down at his hand. My face reddens and I half wish I could disappear into the darkening night as my arousal drips from his hand.

Rubbing his fingers together, he bring them closer to his face, inspecting it. "That was the first day."

Only after a few seconds I nod. There is no use denying.

"You liked me telling you to get some sleep?"

Again I nod, not daring to look at where his eyes are behind the visor. I look at his chest, then at the ground, and then back again.

"You like my voice?" It was more of a statement than a question.

I don't want to nod again, so I speak. "It just sounds nice, but I am sure you have heard that many times before."

"A few times."

With his thumb he slowly swipes over my bottom lip, coating it with my own slick. "You have made quite a mess out of me." Then he pushes two fingers inside my mouth. "Be a good girl, and clean it up for me."

Understanding where he is getting at, I suck on them and lick his thick digits clean. He hums in approval, making sure I have every last bit. For a few seconds he just looks at me, at least that is what he looks like to be doing. His fingers slip from my mouth.

I shrink underneath his gaze as I look up at him. Is he having second thoughts? He can't back off now, I want him, I need him. I slide my hands from his arms down over his chest, and even lower. Still I search for any reaction from him, any way his body language betrays what he wants, what he is feeling. But he remains stoic apart from the low breaths that move his chest and sound through his modulator.

His head tilts as my finger slides over the closing of his pants, as if he is inspecting me, waiting and watching for what I will do next. It takes a little struggle to open the fly and I have to look down to see what I'm doing. I don't dare to look up as I slowly grab a hold of him with a slightly trembling hand. A gasp escapes me as my fingers make contact with his warm skin. I'm not a virgin, I have played around a bit in the past. Some long term, some just for one night. But touching him finally feels new and different, as if I am the shy girl I was on my first time.

He is hard, the tip completely exposed. A low sound rumbles in his chest as I wrap my fingers around his grit and pull him out of his pants. He still has not moved as I look up. Experimentally, I move my hand slowly, swiping my thumb over the smooth head.

For the first time in a while he speaks, his voice rough and soft. "Make it wet first." It does not sound gentle, it sounds like he is refraining himself, holding himself back from doing what he wants to do.

I almost apologize at his request. How could I forget, I knew it could be uncomfortable for men to move against the sensitive skin without lubing it up first. Trying to remain controlled I lower myself steadily to the ground, settling on my knees. His helmet tilts further down, following me as I kneel before him. Giving a small lick on the head, I test the waters. A grunt from him challenges me to continue. I open my mouth further and take him between my lips, my tongue teasing the underside of his length.

He throws his head back with a delicious sound. One of his hands shoots to my head, tangling in my hair whilst he uses the other to steady himself against the wall. Looking down at me again, he guides my head, pushing me deeper on to him until he hits the back of my throat. The pressure makes me gag, but his reaction causes a burning heat to consume my lower stomach.

With a growl he pulls me to my feet and turns me around, so my back is pressed to his hard chest. He keeps me against him as he takes a step back. "Hands on the wall." He says.

The wall is far more than arms-length away, so I try to take a step forward, but he keeps his hands tightly on my hips, preventing me from doing so. I look back at him in confusion. "What?"

"Hands on the wall." He speaks slower now.

After hesitating for a moment, I lean forward. Bending my hips at almost a ninety degree angle, I reach out to lean against the rough surface with my palms.

"Can you keep them there, sweet girl?" Mando's fingers dig in my waist before traveling up my torso.

I give him a nod, not trusting my voice right now.

"Good." His fingers hook underneath the waistband of my pants and yanks them down. They end up half way down my legs.

I gasp and want to stand up straight again, feeling too exposed being bend over like this. A hand pressing between my shoulder blades prevents me from doing so. "Don't. Move."

Looking around frantically I search for possible onlookers. "What if someone walks in on us?"

"Then they will have something perfect to look at." Fingers slide over my pussy once more, until his hand cups me. "You are perfect." The hand is removed, only for it to be replaced with the tip of his length. It teases painfully slow from my clit and back up, spreading around my wetness and his pre-cum. This thought makes me shiver. It feels so filthy and naughty. After all those day dreams, this was finally really happening.

"I need to know how you feel inside me." I push back against him, searching for more friction.

His voice sounds like he is as deep in this moment as I am. He sounds as if it hurts him not to give in to his desires right now. "Patience, girl." With his foot he kicks my legs wider apart as far as they will go with my pants down my legs. He is spreading me for him, exposing me even more. I don't care about decency or shame anymore. I need him, now.

"Please," It sounds more pathetic than I wanted it too. Tears of frustration start to form in my eyes. "Please, just fuck me."

Then he is where I need him, and he is pushing in. Slowly. I have never felt this good in my life, I'm sure of it. This moment right here, is what I have needed my whole life. I could die peacefully now. He is not even all the way in yet, he is still moving inside me, penetrating deep, far surpassing the length of his fingers.

"Oh, maker yes, shit, fuck." My voice is even less controlled now, high-pitched and loud.

"Watch your words, darling." His grip on my waist tightens, almost painfully so. Finally he is settled in all the way, his hipbones against my butt. "You feel... Dank Farrik, you feel amazing." Just as slowly as he entered me, he pulls back out again. A finger trails over the place where we connect, feeling how much I am stretched around him.

Is he watching? Is he looking at how my pussy grips him, how well I take him? As he has completely pulled out, he pushes in again, way faster now, but still not hard and fast enough for me. He keeps on this rhythm of fucking me, almost lovingly.

"I love the sounds you make for me, sweet girl." His voice rasps through his modulator as his hand caresses my thighs and back. My arms almost give out, and would have slumped to the wall if it wasn't for his tight grip on my waist. "I told you to keep your hands there and not to move." Fingers scratch against my scalp as he digs in my hair. "I need you to listen to me." He sounds threatening, the voice he uses on his bounties when they are a hand full.

"Harder.. I need it harder."

He pulls my head back by my hair and starts fucking me with a knee-buckling pace. A hand on my shoulder is used to shove me back on to him with every thrust. "Is this what you wanted, sweet girl? Have you wanted me to use you like this, and kept it quiet all this time? You have starved me of this tight wet cunt." His breath is fast and he lets out beautiful groans between words. He is truly undone, the normally silent mandalorian has turned in a primal man without restraints he normally lives by. The filthy words continue as he keeps pistoning in to me. With every trust, I feel him spreading me open, hitting every part inside me that makes me drool. This sensation is almost, if not way more delicious than the orgasms I give myself on the thought of him.

"Keep making those pretty noises for me." The already deep voice, is even more low and raspy now, and I decide that I really love this unfiltered version of him.

"I'm going to fill you up, fill up your tight pussy until it leaks out." The groan he lets out at this thought makes me clench around him. "But first, you are going to cum for me." The hand on my waist disappears, as does the support it provided. "Keep still." He orders when my knees buckle under my own weight. The hand then moves over my lower stomach and further down. My whole body shudders when his fingertips touch my clit. It is sensitive and swollen from the pleasure he is giving me.

"Mando, fuck yes please let me cum. keep fucking me please" I don't have any control over my words anymore. They spill out as he keeps softly caressing my clit with his fingers. Not only does he just rub the bundle of nerves, he too swipes over my lips and the place where he rams inside me. Never has a man done that to me before. Immediately I feel the familiar heat between my legs grow hotter. Even by myself I have not managed to reach near an orgasm this quick.

Letting go of my hair, his hand seeks the wall for support. I can feel everything of him. His warm stomach and the cold beskar chest plate press against my back. This angle hits another spot inside me that makes my body feel as if it is flying. It does not take long for me to cum all over his hand.

He keeps on fucking me through my aftershocks and I feel he is getting close himself too. His groans become silent and breathing is getting heavy.

"Stars, yes, yes!" I moan as I feel him twitch inside me.

Spurts of cum fill me and he lets out the hottest, toe curling gasps. With a few extra deep and slow thrusts he makes sure to fuck his own cum deep inside me.

"Ner cyar'ika, that was perfect." Slowly he pulls out and straightens up. I attempt to turn around, but he keeps me in place. "You are perfect." He kneels down to put on my panties, probably knowing it will catch his cum as it leaks out of me. The pants are next, he pulls them up from where they have been stuck on my ankles.

He steps back and I turn around, finally facing him again. Nothing has changed, he is still his old self. The indecipherable mask, the broad but slightly static posture. I don't know why this surprise me, of course he hasn't changed. But for some reason it does feel different, he feels different.

A sudden wave of emotions floods over me. There is fear, of him regretting what we have done. There is hope and love too, but also something that feels like guilt. There is frustration of how he has treated me for the past months, making me think he hated me. And there is relief, both physically as emotionally.

He just stands there, in front of me. Maybe he isn't sure of how to act himself. So I do the first thing that comes to mind in between the chaos of emotions inside of me. I jump at him, cling to him, my arms around his neck. I hug him close and tight, my face buried in the crook of his neck. The rough fabric of his cape rubs against my skin. I smell him, the warm heated scent of him. I have never smelled him so strong before, just whims of it when I walk past him.

At first he stiffens, probably taken of guard by my hug attack. But then his shoulders relax and he wraps his arms around me. One around my lower waist and one over my shoulder blades, engulfing me, keeping me safe.

"Mando..." It sounds muffled in the fabric.

I feel him resting the helmet on my shoulder. "I've got you." He squeezes me tighter. "I've got you."

I could cry. I could but I don't, I keep that for later when I'm alone in my bunk. Now I just want to be here with him, nothing else.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

Base story | Path 1: Dom Din | Path 2: Dark Din | Path 3: Sweet Din

Let me know what u think! Which of the 3 paths did you like more? <3

#din djarin x reader #heavy mando smut #mando x reader #din x oc #din djarin smut #the mandolarian #din x reader #Dom Din

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elfinbloodbag · 1 year ago

Text

Just a Token

Pairing: Astarion x Áradíhena (f!Tav)

Summary: Light fluff, light longing, just a glimpse into a moment of their journey.

Word Count: 2,309

Warnings: I think this should be very safe, but mentions of blood, mentions of battle consistent with BG3.

A/N: I totally understand there is very little desire to read about original characters, this is mainly just my obligatory once every 3 years one-shot fic with whoever is my current OC. But, if you do read it thank you, and any (gentle) constructive feedback is really welcome as I am hoping to do something with an actual plot at some point!

Gravel crunches rhythmically under Áradíhena’s feet. Under all eight pairs of the rag-tag group’s feet. Leather creaks, metal clinks, and the gravel keeps on crunching. It was pleasant at first; a familiar pentameter for the elf to set her stride by. But after a few days of walking with blood and sweat and grime from their battle with Ketheric still rubbing sores under her clothes, it has become more like the sound of a mill, grinding her ability to think into the very finest of flours.

As a group they had agreed the best course was to keep moving, to keep pushing forward to Baldur’s Gate. Individually, she thinks they really all would rather take a moment to rest. To really rest. To bathe and feel at least partly fresh and new again. Certainly Lae’zel would never say so, but perhaps if someone else were to speak up, and she could be the last to acquiesce... The terracotta haze across the sky starts dull and become grey around the edges of Áradíhena’s vision as the sun begins its descent into evening.

After the lifetime spent in the Shadowfell every moment of sunlight, of life and of warmth, feels like a gift, and despite her weariness she can feel warmth seeping back into her bones. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Astarion has his face turned to the sun with his own eyes half closed - the hint of a smile playing about his lips. For a rare moment nothing about his behaviour is performative. He is simply basking in the light that he spent so long without. The warmth of that sight fills her as well. Truly it was a gift.

Her toe catches on a rock and she stumbles slightly, kicking up more pebbles as she half-jogs forward, trying to use the momentum to catch herself. Lae’zel scoffs, Karlach guffaws, and Astarion chuckles through his words.

“Careful there My Sweet, no need to fall for me twice.” The vampire’s hand catches her elbow, steadying her more effectively than she was able to do herself. It’s a tender gesture that she is still getting used to. His words carry their usual flirtation and teasing, his eyes are heavy-lidded - but his slender fingertips cupped around her arm, and the quickness with which he stepped forward to catch her can’t be entirely disguised.

Áradíhena takes a moment to straighten herself up, brushing her hand over his with a light squeeze of thanks and trying to catch his eye. But he is in another world, watching that same hand he lowers his side as if it were the setting sun he had basked in moments before.

“Time to get some rest I think, before our gracious leader here does herself a mischief.” Gale pipes up after a moment, and Ára hardly contains her sigh of relief.

“Thank the gods you said it first!” She smiles warmly at him, “I’ve been thinking that for the past, oh, three days, give or take.”

***

The group sits peacefully around the blazing fire, and Áradíhena shuffles her feet, bumping her knee against Astarion’s. On the other side of the fire Karlach elbows Wyll, perhaps a little too hard, in the ribs, saying something about how light on his feet he was as he practically danced to the fire after raising his tent. Halsin whittles a piece of birch he has been carrying for days, and Lae’zel bickers with Shadowheart about preferred weaponry, each firmly planting on opposite sides despite both being skilled with the other’s choice. Gale fusses over the fire, stirring the rich stew and occasionally flitting to his pack to add volcanic salt, or a small amount of dried plum, or some other herb he assures will transform the flavour. She has no doubt it will be delicious, and her stomach grumbles along with the stew. The smell of woodsmoke seeps into her still-damp hair - almost auburn in the orange light of the fire – but it’s better than the acrid smell of sweat that was there a few hours ago.

She folds forward, laying her chin on her knees and dropping her hands to the floor, causing a series of clicks and snaps along her back. Cold fingertips graze the sliver of exposed skin on her spine, brushing lightly over where the tension has just released. A shiver runs through her and immediately the contact is gone. She begins to reach for Astarion, going to squeeze his knee, to find a way to tell him without words that the shiver was nothing to do with the cold, but drops her hands back to the ground. Instead of saying anything, she rakes her fingers through the fire-warmed earth, searching for something to distract her from the feeling. From the way the firelight seems to put life back into Astarion’s veins where they cord under the rolled sleeve of his shirt.

A small pebble catches on her nail and she rolls it between her fingers for a moment, feeling the sharp edges, the small crags in its shape, and lifts it into the light. It glows a soft, rosy-pink, casting a dull rainbow in a million directions as the light refracts on its unpolished surface. As she sits back up, she holds onto the little piece of beauty from the earth, digging it into her calloused palm and smiling through the instinctive wince. She is still soft compared to the rock.

***

Each member of the party has lips stained red, and Ára adds another layer of colour as she takes a long swig of wine before passing the bottle left to Halsin. With a bust of laughter she almost spits it all back out when Karlach dips Wyll so low to the floor in their dance that his horns graze the floor and he squirms, unused to the sensation. She lifts him back to standing and then falls forward in a fit of laughter herself, slapping her knees so hard that Áradíhena is sure own would buckle with the force. There is an underlying understanding that they may not have long to enjoy these moments of levity and relative freedom, so they share in every piece of joy to be had.

Áradíhena nudges Astarion with her elbow lightly, and with a rumbling ‘hmm?’ he tilts his head towards her, still watching the dancers with an almost fond expression. His white curls tickle the tip of Ára’s ear.

“No Astarion, you have to look!” She unfurls her hand in her lap, rolling the rose quartz around her palm so it can catch the light for him to see.

“What am I looking at?”

“I found this in the dust. It feels like so long since we’ve had anything beautiful.” She lifts it higher, willing him to see what she sees, to share in this piece of joy with her.

He leans in a little, and as he catches sight of it a sneer twists his lips, although he very quickly wipes it away and meets her bright gaze through lowered lashes. “Oh look,” he straightens back up and his breath flutters against the hot skin in the crook of her neck as he drops his voice to a whisper, “it matches you perfectly, Pet.”

Heat spreads across her face and a vibration somewhere between a laugh and a purr runs through Astarion, adding fuel to her flush. One steadying breath later she takes his hand, unfurls his fingers, and drops the small stone into his palm. “Then I suppose it must be yours.”

His head jerks back and he stares down at the stone, eyebrow cocked and lip curled, “Ára, you found this on the ground!” His voice is comically aghast, “Who knows where it’s been, what in the hells makes you think I want it? It’s not even precious!”

Fine then. He would not be sharing in this with her. Trying to combat the overwhelming feeling of smallness that overcomes her, Áradíhena rolls her eyes and stands to walk away before she can watch him toss it to the ground as she is sure he will. Companionable and compassionate as ever, Halsin grumbles along and follows her to the stream where they wash up their wooden bowls in a comfortable if slightly solomn silence.

***

The first light of the sun seeps languidly through the window, past the curtain, and casts a syrupy glow over Ára’s face. She’s in a bed. A REAL bed for the first time in gods knows how long, and yet the new day has found a way to rouse her from this small comfort rather earlier than necessary. She stretches out, kicking the sheet off her legs and touching her toes to the wooden bed posts. It was a blessing to find Elfsong Tavern when they arrived yesterday, and entirely worth the minor scuffle over who had first access to the bath.

All around the room are sounds of sleep. The light snuffling from Scratch and the Owlbear cub could almost lull her back into her trance, if it weren’t for Gale’s muttering and what she assumes to be Halsin’s snores. She sits up, eyes drawn immediately to the opposite side of the room where Astarion normally rests. But instead of seeing the pale elf laying motionless, death-like, on his back when she glances around there are neatly laid sheets free of any sign of rest, and his shirt sits perfectly folded atop his pillow.

For all his complaints about camping, Astarion hasn’t made best use of their temporary homestead. But, Áradíhena thinks suddenly feeling a weight on her chest, he has the hardest time with rest, with stillness and certainly with finding peace. She hopes that soon they will reclaim that for him. For now, his fearful habits remain. They had spoken alone very little since the quartz incident two days ago, and when they had his growing tension about returning to the city had been evident.

Although not long ago Astarion had confessed the depth and reality of his feelings to her, she felt more distant than ever. On the verge of losing him to the Rite of Ascension, to an attempt to kill Cazador, to the Elder Brain, or to any one of the myriad of barriers in their path.

She quickly shrugs on her own loose shirt and begins to stoke the fire, busying herself to distract from the fear, and then from the guilt at her selfishness. Gale and Shadowheart would be glad of coffee when they wake, and she can lay still no longer.

***

“I’m really not sure where to go from here, it feels as though there are one hundred and one things we need to do in the city, all equally important. I’m lost.” Áradíhena hands Gale the steaming coffee, perhaps unceremoniously. She had hardly given him time to dress before seeking counsel, or comfort, or something like either.

“You know we will all – correction, most of us will – follow your lead here. You haven’t taken us astray this far Áradíhena, I trust you’ll make the right choice on what lead to follow first.”

“You’re not helping Gale! Everyone wants something different, everyone will be frustrated no matter what I chose–“

“You know that I wo-“ he interrupts, trying to reassure her.

“And don’t think I’m not including you in this!”

“Then you’ll need to put up with some frustrations. You can’t make everyone happy at all times you know…” Gale smiles a little sadly at her, but his tone is soft.

Áradíhena heaves her shoulders and rolls her head back with a dramatic sigh, but before she can bounce back with a laugh, Gale claps his hand onto her shoulder, and she knows he isn’t fooled.

There’s a slight nudge at her wrist, bringing her back to the present. Scratch must have noticed the two of them as the first to be up and about and doubtless wanted to be free of the coup. Odd that she didn’t hear him padding over to them, but she has so much on her mind... “Just a minute, Scratch.” She feels another tug and wafts her hand slightly to temporarily shoo him away.

She looks back to Gale, saying brightly “How about a morning wa-” but stops short as she sees him smirking, brows raised a little in incredulity. “What?”

Gale just chuckles and nods towards her hand.

There, pinned to her cuff with the most delicate golden clasp, is a gleaming red teardrop. A highly polished, beautifully cut ruby in the richest shade of blood.

“I... how..?” She casts her eyes about the room, slightly slack jawed and looking, she is quite sure, like a fool. In the opposite corner Astarion lounges back on his bed, a carefully curated air of nonchalance all about him as he runs one long finger delicately down the pages of his book and with the slightest flick turns the page.

The corner of his lip curls into the hint of a smile as he feels her eyes scanning him with less subtlety than she should, and the glint in his eye perfectly matches the ruby. “Now that we’re back in the civilisation, Darling, I thought you really ought to know what a stone of value looks like.”

“It’s beautiful Astarion, thank you.” She beams and her chest swells, even as she worries about him sneaking out to steal from merchants without her to act as a distraction.

“Pffft, it’s nothing, just a token. Don’t mention it.” He is blasé, looking back to his book with an air of finality. He raises his hand to wave her off and brush away the sentiment, and she barely catches the flash of pink inside his sleeve, where he has carefully sewn her rose quartz into the lining.

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion x tav fanfic #astarion x f!tav #aradihena #aradihena x astarion #my writing

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nkirukaj · 5 months ago

Text

Our Renaissance (5)

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem! OC

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Acts, Grooming, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Racially Degrading Language, 1920s Slang

Genre: Slight Angst/Fluff/SMUT (& Humor!)

Word Count: 9.4K

1931

“Do you want to know why I wanted to be in radio?”

“I already know why Alastor, you told me.”

“Yes, I know, but I didn’t tell you the last reason.”

“Tell me Alastor,”

“So I could be with you,”

Vera laughs a bit “What?”

“I already had radio as my dream, but after meeting you…I knew it couldn’t just be a dream. I had to make it a reality. I knew that you would never think of being with me unless I made something of myself.”

Vera shakes her head “That’s not true.”

“You say that now after we’ve already married. But then, it was true. Rich people don’t marry poor people. So I had to become rich to have you. And even if you would have me as a poor man, I would never forgive myself if I couldn’t treat you like the lady you are. The way you deserve.”

Her eyes are watery from the adoration she had for him, she almost drops the phone trying to wipe her eyes

“It’s only a month or so before the show closes,” she says with a sniffle “I can’t wait to come back to you,”

“And I can’t wait to have you here.”

She leans back on the couch of her suite “I just want to be home with you!”

“I thought New York was your home?” he questions

She sighs lovingly “You are my home Alastor.”

“And you are mine ma cher,” he lowers the pitch of his voice “I just want to hold you in my arms, feel your warmth against my body.” he bites his lip “Maybe taste you again?”

Vera yelps and starts giggling “Oh Alastor! You’re so improper!” she bites her lip waiting to see what he’ll say in response

“I haven’t seen, touched, or tasted my wife in 3 years, I think I have the right to be.”

Vera giggles more, loving how his words made her feel. Like she was wanted like he wanted her. It had been 3 years and she still kept forgetting that they were married, likely because they hadn’t been together since they’d said their ‘I do’s’. These phone calls were essential to let her know that he was still there, still waiting for her, still wanted her.

“Do me a favor doll, when you get back here, the first person you see will be me. I don’t want you to see or talk to anybody before you see me.”

“Okay,” she crosses her legs like a little schoolgirl

“And when you do see me, don’t blame my hands for what they do. I can’t control them.”

Vera laughs loudly again “Alastor!” She chastises him, even though they both know that he says it because she likes it.

Alastor was feeling stifled, he thought as he thrust the knife inside of the man’s torso. He didn’t know if it was because he reached a plateau in his career or if it was because he missed his wife. This was his third murder of the week. Something about it lost its thrill, maybe because he was no longer afraid of getting caught. The man’s body fell to the ground with an unsatisfying thud at Alastor’s feet. He didn’t even feel like lifting the body. He spent the next hour kicking it all the way to the hunting ground. He was so bored. He wondered what his wife was doing right now. As his thoughts wandered he started to grow angry, how could she leave him for this long? Leave him wanting, desiring, craving her. What could she be doing out there without him? How many people had she brought back to her hotel room to fill the void that he just had to live with? How many people would he have to kill to fill the void she left? Alastor sinks onto his empty bed and wonders how long he can go before he loses his mind.

Alastor smokes a blunt, calming his nerves. He leans on the picket fence that he thought would be a nice addition to their home. He found himself lost in thought, as his blunt was snatched from his fingers.

Enraged at the thief, he turns when he sees his wife taking a drag on the blunt and blowing out smoke with a smirk. Alastor’s eyes widen, and his arms are immediately around his wife, lifting her in the air and spinning her around. Suddenly his happiness becomes a carnal desire. He presses his lips against hers, placing her on the grass against the fence.

“Alastor!” She’s surprised by his brazenness

“I cannot wait any longer,” he breathes, panting

“But right now? Out here?”

“This is our property baby, and we have a fence.” He goes back to kissing her as she falls into it. She grabs his hand and places it on her breast, which he gladly massages and squeezes.

She moans into her husband’s neck “The fence is nice,” they laugh as he massages her breast, raising his thigh between her legs, pressing onto her clit

“I missed you,” Alastor kisses her neck

“I missed you too baby,” she thrusts up into his thigh so that he can rub her clit through her clothes “Uhh, yes. Keep doing that,”

“As you wish,” he said rubbing his thigh into her pussy, wetting his trouser leg

She wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him like a starving woman, devouring her first meal. Her entire body longed for him, years and years burning for his touch. He lets her tongue invade his mouth and his invades hers as she lowers herself and him flat onto the grass.

“Turns out I love having my own house,” Alastor jokes as their noses rub together, their breath fogging up their glasses, they start laughing at the sight, or lack thereof, before kissing again. Alastor starts rubbing his thigh onto her pussy faster and faster, Vera cumming right there in the grass. “Hmm, let’s take this inside, hmm? Would my little wife like that?” He picks her up, wrapping her legs, around his waist.

“Yes, she would,” she grabs his face and licks his nose giggling all the while as he brings her inside their house, sharing it for the first time.

They lay in the bed together, Vera leaning on her husband’s chest.

“You know, what we did outside was actually really dangerous,”

“Do you still care about what the neighbors think?”

She chuckles, dragging her index finger down his chest “No, it’s just that I’ve been reading the papers and-“

“And…?”

“The number of killings are going up, we can’t be out in the open all exposed,”

He rolls his eyes, amused “Don’t you worry about any killings,”

“How can I not worry? We’re right in the thick of it!”

“And I’m right here to protect you,” he kisses her forehead “Anybody tries to hurt my wife, I will handle them. Don’t you worry,”

She snuggles into the crook of his neck “I don’t want you to get hurt,”

“Don’t worry about me,”

Vera turns away from him, full of conviction

“Is there something wrong?”

“It’s just you care about me so much, and I-“

“You what?”

“Do you want to know a secret?” He turns to her immediately intrigued “Well I figured you should know since we’re married now,” Alastor widens his eyes and waits for her to say “Okay, so the truth is…my parents aren��t really my parents,”

He squints and leans in, confused but wanting to hear more “Oh?”

“Yes, and…I’m not a human being,”

Now the confusion has taken over the intrigue “Pardon?”

“Yes,” she nods “I’m not human. I’m a fairy,”

“Not to be rude sweetheart, but this is the most screwy you’ve ever sounded,”

She turns away “It’s true!” She walks a few steps “My parent’s real baby was taken as an infant and was replaced with…me,” she turns back to him “I’m a changeling,”

He is almost speechless “I-uh, um. How- how do you…how do you know that?”

She stands up from the bed “My father told me,”

Alastor sits up “And how does he know that?”

“Well, he is a psychiatrist,”

Alastor grimaces “Hmm, I suppose,”

“He said there’s something ‘not right’ in my head,”

He scooches to the edge “You’re all right to me,”

“Don’t you see? This explains all of my strange behavior!”

“There’s nothing strange about you,”

“Our first real conversation, you called me a thief,”

Alastor looks around “You took something without permission,”

“Strange behavior!”

He looks to the side “I just call that privilege,”

“Alastor this is serious,” her face falls

“I know, I am serious. Do you remember how I used to tell you that I liked to take things apart?” she nods “Well, I used to take apart animals, specifically frogs,”

“Oh! Like in school how do you dissect them?”

He tilts his head “Yes…something like that, but on my own time. I would sit by the bayou and catch them, taking them apart and pulling the insides out. I was convinced that something was wrong with me, but my mother let me know that everyone is different, and that’s okay. You’re not a fairy, you’re a woman. You’re my wife, now come here,” he pats the spot on the bed next to him and she sits “And even if you were a fairy, that wouldn’t matter to me,” he hugs her and she hugs him back.

_______________________________________

“My father said he hasn’t heard from James since the wedding, he usually checks in with him once a year,”

“So?”

She puts the letter down “It sounds a little worrying,”

“I am sure James is fine,”

“How can you be sure? I still feel about what happened at the wedding, it was so embarrassing,”

“Why would you feel bad about that?” his tone turns serious

She leans on the table “Because he must have felt so awful being at the wedding of a woman who rejected him,”

Alastor rolls his eyes, his smile falling “Maybe we can just redo the day and you can marry him instead and I’ll be the jealous brute,” he mumbles under his breath

“What? Where did that come from?”

“Nothing,” he looks at her “Maybe you should give James a call. I’m sure he’ll have a lot to say,”

She stares at him for a moment “What he said was true wasn’t it?”

“What?”

“Your father is white?”

He looks away for a moment “I suppose it is,”

“No, you can’t ‘suppose’, is it true or not?”

He stares her straight in the eye “Yes,”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter,”

Vera looks around “I told you that I believed I’m a fairy, but you couldn’t tell me your father is white?”

“Drop it.”

Vera is shocked “No,”

He sets his jaw “Vera,”

“Alastor?”

“Let’s talk about something else,”

She tilts her head “I do not wish to,”

“Fine, what would you like to know about my father? Hmm? Do you want to know how once he almost killed me and my mother? Or how he likes to come around every once in a while just to fuck my mother? Or perhaps we should call up my mother since she has nothing but good things to say. She can tell you how much of an upstanding man he is,” Alastor stalks towards her as he speaks “You know what? Call her!” He shoves the phone into her hands “Do you want to call her?”

“Why did James know and I didn’t?

“I don’t know why James knew,” he shrugs violently “James should’ve learned to mind his own fucking business,”

“You’re acting strange,” she says in a monotone

Alastor closes his eyes and reorients himself “I’m sorry, I need a minute to-“ he can’t think of anything “I need a minute,” he starts to walk away

“Alastor,”

He turns back to his wife. “Hmm?”

“Do you know what happened to James?”

He smirks and ominously states “I haven’t the slightest idea,” before walking into the other room.

The next few days were mostly silent, exchanging only pleasantries between the two of them. Vera eyes her husband closely during his every movement, the way he eats, drinks, speaks, and sits examining his every move. Thinking, thinking, thinking.

“Is there something wrong my dear?” he asks

“No,” was all she said, not even offering an explanation for her behavior

It was only after listening to her husband on the radio explain how the number of killings had decreased since her return did it all click for her.

She waited for him by the door.

“Oh! Good evening cher!” Alastor greets her as he enters the doorway, removing his coat. She takes it and hangs it up, putting both it and his hat on the coat rack. “What’s eating you doll?”

Vera still does not answer, only retreating to the kitchen in the hopes that he will follow. He does and is presented with authentic jambalaya, painstakingly prepared by a New York native.

“I made this for you,” is all she says gesturing towards a pulled-out chair.

“Why thank you mon amour!”

She stands, watching him eat every last bite before opening her mouth once more. “I need to say something,” and he gestures for her to speak “I have thought about all the things you’ve told me. You not feeling normal, dissecting animals, not feeling worried about the killer and insisting that I not be worried either, your feelings about James and your father. Especially you telling me how James should have minded his business, but the uptick in killings while I was in the city versus how the rate goes down when I returned really got me suspicious,”

Alastor scoffs with a grin “What are you saying, darling?”

She lays her hat on the table, walking around it before she speaks.

“I am afraid I must ask this or I will never be able to rest. And I apologize for my bluntness ahead of time.” He nods simply, with his hands behind his back “Are you the killer terrorizing this town?”

His eyes flitted back and forth with bouts of sudden anxiety. How did she know? How could she know? What would she do now that she knows? The best choice is to lie of course. But when he looked into her large eyes, he knew he just couldn’t, his body wouldn’t let him.

“Yes.”

Vera’s gloved fingers drag across the table “Well, I can’t even say I’m surprised if I am to be honest with ya. I think I might have always known. All those times someone would mess with me and they would end up missing. Was that you? Looking out for me?” She looks up at him. He nods, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly. She turns away from him, grabbing her wrist with her other hand, and playing with the bracelet on it. The bracelet he had given her so long ago.

He takes a step forward, reaching for her as she puts a hand up, signifying for him not to come any closer.

What is this that he was feeling? DIsgust? Regret? For what exactly? He ran through all his crimes in his head and not one of them elicited that reaction from him, but looking up at her, not hearing her voice, and not being able to see her face left a pang in his stomach that he just couldn’t deal with. She turned her head so he could only see her profile and spoke.

“Alastor?”

“Yes.”

“Would you ever hurt me, like you hurt them?”

He doesn’t answer right away, he never knew who he was going to hurt until they showed him a side of themselves that was evil, ugly, and needed to be dealt with. As far as he was aware his wife was nothing of the sort, but for all he knew she could be hiding a side of herself just like he had been. “Alastor,” her voice snapped him out of his thoughts “Answer me.”

“No,” he says, his chest falling.

She turns back to face away from him. She didn’t know what to say, just yesterday she would have trusted him implicitly. But she had no clue what to do now. No clue about anything. What to say, what to do. Where to go, or who he even was, anymore.

“I-“ she lowers her head “I want to believe you, but I just don’t know. I- I don’t even know who you are.”

“I’m me.” He says, trying to reassure her “Alastor.” he steps forward grabbing her arm

She pulled back viciously, whipping around so fast her hairpins fell out, her hair becoming loose. “But who is that?! WHO IS ALASTOR?!” She stalks toward him filled with anger and betrayal “BECAUSE FROM WHERE I’M STANDING ‘ALASTOR’ IS A KILLER!” She begins pacing around the kitchen “All this time, all this TIME! ALL THE TIMES YOU WERE ‘OUT WITH FRIENDS’ OR ‘MEETING FOR BUSINESS’ ALL A LIE!”

He rushes forward to grab her shoulders. “Keep your voice down.” He hisses at her

“WHY? ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT WHAT THE PAPERS WILL SAY? OR THE NEIGHBORS? WHY DON’T YOU JUST KILL THEM TOO!!” He covers her mouth

“Hush!!!”

She wrestles out of his grip “You will not silence me!” She’s breathing heavily and leaning over slightly. More of her hair has fallen out of the pinned ‘do and her glasses have started to slide down her face. She pushes them up, standing up straight. She brushes herself off and turns, storming in the other direction. He follows her.

“Vera, where are you going? Vera!” His voice bellows all through the house they share, a door slam is heard and Alastor follows the sound to their shared bedroom. He opens the door to see her opening drawers and throwing clothes into a trunk. “What are you doing?!”

“Getting away from you!” She throws the clothes in faster as he enters the room “You stay away from me,” she backs up

He takes in the sight of her, she looks angry and frazzled, but there was just something about her that was always so gorgeous. He understood the tense situation, but Alastor couldn’t get how sexy his wife was out of his mind.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” she blushes but ignores him, he chuckles “You’re not leaving.” He tries using his charm on her, but she can see right through him

“Do not use your ‘radio voice’ on me. I’m not one of the thousands of broads you like to charm at parties!”

Alastor presses on, still trying to diffuse the situation in his own way “Is that what this is really about? Broads at parties?” he inches closer to her

Her face turns red “You know DAMN WELL what this is about!” She reaches into a drawer and throws whatever she can find at him, a few things do hit him which flusters him a little. “YOU’RE A KILLER AND A LIAR!”

He steps closer “You seem more upset about the lying than the killing.” He chuckles, dropping his radio accent

“I’m leaving and I don’t know where I’ll go, but I can be an actress anywhere. I’m famous!” She laughs to herself

“Because of me.”

“Don’t you EVER say that!” she squints at him “I am famous of my own accord. My talent just happened to be recognized at the same time as yours! If anything, you’re famous because of me!”

“So you finally admit that I have talent.”

“Don’t change the fucking subject.”

Alastor’s eyes widened with surprise “Very foul and vulgar language, doll.” he stated while her voice made his cock jump

She rolls her eyes dramatically, picks up her full trunk, and begins walking toward him. “Move.”

He looks down at her with a smirk “No.”

She pushes him but he barely moves “I said move, Alastor.”

He just stands and stares at her, not taking her very seriously. “You’re my wife. You can’t leave. Imagine what people will say.”

She scoffs “Oh I’m barely your wife. It was a ‘marriage of convenience’ remember?” He steps towards her again and she raises a gun “Get away from me.”

He blinks at her with his hands up “Where did you get that?”

“My daddy gave it to me, just in case I came across some dangerous men. Never thought the dangerous man would be lying next to me IN MY OWN BED!”

“Vera…” he spoke calmly “Put down the gun.” she doesn’t “Put down the gun, Vera!” He swiped the trunk out of her hands; the volume of his voice made her shake and tremble. She looks away for a second and Alastor takes the gun and pins her against the wall. She is shaking, her chin trembling as she feels his breath against her face. He’s holding the gun near his waist. Feeling her skin and her curves pressing into him, it was almost too much for him to handle.

“You are not leaving this house.” he chuckles “You’re not even leaving this room.”

His tone of voice weakened her knees. She wanted to be angry, sad, or even scared, but all she could feel was the twitching of her cunt, the start of dripping into her panties. “Do it then,” she goads him “kill me. That’s what you want, right? To kill me with my own gun?”

Alastor exposes the chamber of the gun, revealing the lack of bullets, and laughs “Your daddy set you up.” and throws it on the ground “Anyway, I don’t use guns when I kill. It’s not,” he cups her chin “personal enough. I like to get up close. It’s an art if you take the time to listen, Mrs. Fontenot.” He looks down at her and can just barely see down her shirt “Why are you shaking? Are you really frightened of me?” she doesn’t answer, only looking away from him. “Look at me, baby. I don’t think you’re scared of me at all. I think you, are scared of yourself. Because you don’t hate me. Because you would still dream of me at night, wanting to wake up in my arms. Because your husband is a killer, and you love him anyway.”

“Are you going to kill me or not?”

He tilts his head to the side and Vera sees her reflection in his glasses “No.” he starts playing with her hair “Calm down, I’m not going to murder my wife.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because you are my wife,” his hands travel from her hair, down over her chest, and land on her waist “My smart and sexy wife.”

She begins trembling once more, from dramatically different stimuli. She stares up at him, his eyes darkened with desire. “Why can’t I leave?”

“Because! I need my wife here with me! I would miss you,” he purrs into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “And you’re mine. All mine. Nobody else gets to have you.” His hand finds its way to her back as if he could sense where her goosebumps were. His fingers lightly traced a line down the center. “Remember all those years ago when I showed you the fort I built as a child, and you allowed me to taste you..?” She doesn’t even have to see him to know that he’s smirking. He plays with her hair and rubs his nose over her throat, taking in her scent. She nods as her core aches through her layers of clothes. “Well…” he starts pressing his lips onto her neck, ever so slightly.

“That was improper, and I should not have allowed you to do that.” she retorts, trying not to give in to him

“But you tasted so good, baby. I just can not live without it, that’s why you can’t leave. And no one else gets to taste you either darlin’” he slides his tongue up her throat

“Alastor, what do you want from me? Haven’t you tortured me enough?”

“Not quite.” His eyes glint in the light as he flashes his award-winning smile. That damn smile, the smile that made her agree to this marriage in the first place. “Do you love me?”

“What?”

“Not a difficult question, dearest. Do you love me?”

She tries looking away but he holds her chin in place “Why?”

“I’m asking the questions, cher. It’s a simple yes or no. Do you love me?” He presses himself against her, she can feel a bulge at his crotch through the fabric of her dress.

“You are a sick man,”

“But…?” His grin grows wider “You love me.”

She swallows before she reaches up for his suspenders “You know that I do.” He crashes his lips onto hers as she pulls them off and starts unbuttoning his buttons. He allows her to, and she works her fingers with haste, removing his shirt with desperation and desire. He rips open her buttons with expertise and throws their clothes aside. Alastor kneels in front of her unclipping her long skirt, removing it and her tights all in one motion. He removes his glasses and kisses up her thighs before removing her panties. He basks in her scent before speaking “Nice gams,” he jokes while placing one of her legs over his shoulder and shoving two fingers into her heat. He pumps inside her, using his thumb to stimulate her clit, curving and bending each finger with such skill. The knot inside Vera’s stomach builds until her inevitable release, which is signaled by her clenching cunt and jerking hips. Alastor, however, has no plans to cease pleasuring his wife. His tongue circled her clit as she clung to the wall for stability. He kisses and sucks the bud until it swells with arousal, which is when he enters her dripping core—lapping up her juices and curling his tongue inside her, hitting her nerves at different angles. Vera grabbed a fistful of his hair and pushed his head, pushing his tongue deeper inside her until her second orgasm raked through her harder than the first.

“It’s you,” he says between kisses and licks “It’s only you. I’ve only ever wanted you, no one else.”

Vera’s body felt numb, she could barely keep her head up, much less stand on her own two legs.

“Taste just like I remember,” Alastor comments, dropping his fake accent and putting his real one on display, biting his lip. He swings her leg back over his shoulder and carries her to the bed. He plops her down on her back before removing his trousers and underwear, revealing his throbbing cock, then climbing on top of her. He catches her lips with his, sliding his tongue into her mouth so she can taste herself.

“Can you take some more baby?”

Vera nods lazily with a smile “Yes,” she whispers, which is all she can get out.

“That’s right, you’re such a good girl. You can take it.” He lines up his cock against her entrance and slowly slides in. Vera winces at the pain and Alastor cups her chin “Shh. It’s okay baby, you can do it. You can take me. You’re the only one who can take me.”

She bites her lip bearing through the pain, as Alastor waits for her to adjust to his size, slowly he starts getting deeper, causing her to wince again “I’m sorry baby. You wanna keep going?” he starts kissing her neck

She nods “Yes,” she moans

“Am I the only man you’ve been with?” he breathes into her ear

She nods again “Yes. Only you.” his thrusts go deeper as the pain gradually morphs into pleasure and her moans begin to increase in volume, is when Alastor starts to fuck her like he means it.

“That’s right baby, this cunt belongs to me,”

He fucks her like he needs her, like he would die without her. Like he had to know for sure she’d never leave him.

“All those years you were gone,” he growls into Vera’s ear “that was torture. I would have killed to have you as I do right now, and I mean that. Now I have you, and you think I’m just going to let you go?” he chuckles into her throat “I would destroy the world to have you. You’re not going anywhere” he bites her on the neck “You take me so well baby,” he whispers as she claws at his back “It’s like your cunt was made for me darlin’, feels so good.”

Vera bucks her hips up to get more of him inside of her “Uhh oh God yes,” she moaned, pulling his head down into her neck.

“You feel good baby? Say how good your husband is making you feel.” He grunts as he thrusts into her

“Makes me feel so good, mmmm”

“Who does baby?” His tone becomes more aggressive

“My HUSBAND, OH FUCK! Mmmmm oh fuck,” she’s on the verge of pleasant tears, listening to the sound of her husband’s cock pounding into her.

“You still doubt our chemistry, huh?” he pulls back to look at her with a shit-eating grin on his face “Hmm?” he bites his lip

“Fuck Alastor! Just fuck me!” she throws her head back, holding onto his neck with both hands

“Always been so rude, doll.” he kisses her chest “Just how I like you,” he whispers into her throat

“And you always talk so much,” she gets out between moans “Instead of getting to the point.” She smirks while looking up at him

He looks down at her, eyes lidded “Oh? How’s this for the point?” he asks before a particularly powerful thrust. Vera lets out a loud moan, louder than the yelling she had been doing before “That’s right, I know how to make my wife feel so good.”

Alastor leans down and grabs his wife’s bottom lip between his teeth and holds her steady by her hips. He begins to mark her, all over her chest and throat “Mmm, mine.” He speaks between bites and kisses “All mine. No one else’s.”

“Fuck, Alastor! Don’t stop! Uhh!”

“Wasn’t gonna,” she can feel his annoying grin against her neck

She wraps her legs around his waist, pushing him deeper, feeling him fill her up and slide against every spot of her walls. For a moment hearing only the squelching of her wet cunt.

“You didn’t mean it before right? You’d never leave me.”

She shakes her head “Never.”

“That’s a good girl. Mmm, you’d be such a good Mommy, hmm? You want that? For me to make you a Mommy? You wanna have my babies? Fuck!”

“Oh God yes! I want your babies Alastor!”

“Yeah? I’ll give my babies if you ask.”

“Please Alastor, cum in me. Give me your babies. Make me a Mommy, please. I want it so bad!” She’s panting and whimpering “Make me a mommy and I’ll never leave you! Uhhh fuuuck! I need my husband’s babies,”

He licks her all over “How can I tell my pretty wife no?” he lets out another moan

Vera reaches for his hand and he grabs hers as he gives one last thrust. Her clenching around him and her body twitching under him, his cock jumps inside her and releases all over, as they both release animalistic moans. He stays inside until he is completely empty, some of his cum spilling out onto their bed. They remain in the position to make sure it takes. Panting and delirious, Vera wipes some of his hair away from his sweaty forehead and asks “Alastor, do you love me?”

“Yes, Vera.” His natural accent is so thick and smooth, it makes her stomach flutter. He moves some of her hair that’s turning puffy from sweat behind her ear. “Since ’22.” They start kissing once more, this time slower and more passionate, letting out all the feelings they had been hiding from each other, and themselves.

“Why have we never done that before?”

“Because I never knew you loved me.”

He cuts his eye at her “Really?”

“Maybe I had a hunch.”

“You know, you’re actually the only woman I’ve ever been with.”

She looks up “Really?”

He nods “Mhmm. The only woman I’ve ever wanted to be with too. I’ve never seen anybody the way I see you. For me, you were the only option. So of course naturally, I must be your only option.”

“You’re such an asshole,” she pushes him and looks away

He turns her chin “You’re gonna stay with me, alright?”

“Then you have to stay with me,” she says

“Of course.”

“Promise me, Alastor.”

“I promise.” He pulls her into another kiss “I can’t get over these lips. Just so full and soft.” He kisses her again and she giggles putting her arms around him as he climbs on top of her once more.

They play with each other’s fingers until they fall asleep.

_________________________________________

“So, about you being a killer then?”

“Would you keep your voice down, baby?” he asks with a huge grin

“Sorry,” she looks around “But what about it?”

He folds his hands together “What about it?”

“Why?”

He shrugs “It’s something like an art. It gives me a sense of control. You wouldn’t understand my love,”

“I want to,”

“Want to what?”

“Understand.” she pushes herself up with the table “I want to help,”

Alastor tilts his head “Ha ha, no?”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean ‘no’, absolutely not! Have you lost your mind?! No! No! NO!”

She huffs “I’m not a child Alastor, I can handle things,”

“Like you handled finding out that I’m a killer?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, how you threatened to kill me with an unloaded gun,”

She blushes “That was me being caught off guard. Teach me and I’ll be prepared. At least think about it,”

“Hmm, I did. No!” “Why not?”

“Because I said so,”

“Do not pull that on me, I am not a child. I thought husband and wife were meant to be equal, partners! Do you see me as beneath you?”

He purses his lips “No, I see you as inexperienced,”

“Everyone is inexperienced until they begin!”

He shrugs.

“You are being unfair,”

“No, I fulfilling my duty as a husband and keeping you safe,”

“We’d both be a lot safer if we worked together,”

He leans back “We will agree to disagree,”

“You are impossible! How many women would stay with you after finding out a secret of this magnitude? I could have turned you in!”

“There’s still time,” he smirks

“I could have left you,”

“Well, the door isn’t running,”

“Would you really let me leave?”

His grin turns evil “I would let you get a good head start,”

“And then kill me?”

“Ugh, you think I would kill you?”

She shrugs

“Well if you think that’s what I would do,”

“Would you?”

He shrugs “Hmm,”

“Alastor I want to help you, I want to help my husband,”

He cups her cheek “Then help me by staying here,” he stands up from the table and goes to leave the house “I will be back later,”

“Are you going to ‘create more art’?”

He gives her a knowing grin before exiting.

This man was a bit of a hassle, to stalk and capture, Alastor had managed to knock him out though, dragging him to the woods behind his own house, ready to deal the killing blow. That is until the man woke up and started screaming.

“Shut up!” he slits him across the stomach

The man was a lot heavier than Alastor, so he lost his balance when he pushed him over. He took off running, and Alastor knowing that he couldn’t let him get away took off after. At least until the man stopped in his tracks and fell flat, a pool of blood spreading in his chest area from a small hole that wasn’t there a moment earlier. He looks up in the direction the man is running in.

Vera stared up at her husband “Finally got some bullets.” she joked halfheartedly

“WHAT are you doing? Why are you here?! He could have hurt you!”

She continues trying to joke “Aww, you care about me.”

“I’m serious Vera. Have you gone screwy?”

“If it wasn’t for me, he would have gotten away!”

“You don’t need to be anywhere near this! This is MY business.”

“Listen, you are my husband and I am your wife, we are meant to be a team! So I am going to help you whether you like it or not, and you need to just suck it up!”

They stare in empty silence before lunging at each other, connecting at the lips. Him still holding the knife and her still holding the gun. He guides her over to the stairs behind the man’s house and begins attacking her body. The blood from his hands gets all over her clothes as he pulls down her trousers and panties in the middle of the cool night. She, holding the gun has her arms around his neck. She removes his trousers and underwear with the same haste as he takes her right there on the stairs.

“Tell me how bad I am,” he huffs into her ear

“You are awful,” she moans back “Evil, wicked!” She buries her head in the crook of his neck

“Mhmm, and I bet you’re such a good girl huh?” She shakes her head “No? What are you then?”

“I’m a bad girl,” she grips him tighter as he thrusts into her

“That’s right, you’re such a bad girl, you’re with an evil man and you love him.”

“You’re a killer,” she pulls her head up to look at him

He smirks and says “I do kill this cunt whenever I please,” before a particularly forceful thrust.

She can feel him in her stomach, in her guts, in her bones. She couldn’t feel the breeze, the cool air, the wood of the stairs, or even her sweat. He enveloped her. All she could feel was him.

Her walls began twitching around him, not able to control herself “Not yet, sweetie.” He said to her with a smile. He unbuttons her shirt and his fingers expertly stimulate her nipples. The nubs grow erect as he rolls them around in his fingertips. It felt harder and harder for her to control her release. They started twitching again.

“I said, not yet.” His tone approaching scolding

“I can’t,” she chokes out

“You can and you will.” He lifts her chin “For fuck’s sake, how did I get the most amazing, beautiful woman on Earth to marry me? Hmm?” he asks pinching her nipples harder “How? Tell me, baby.”

She is a mess, barely able to speak, her mouth sputtering nonsense while looking at her husband. She was just so enamored by him, she couldn’t control herself.

“Alastor..I’m gonna- uh…mmm” She was on the precipice of pleasure, unable to hold on any longer

“Not yet!” He takes one of his hands and wraps it around her throat, forcing her head up “Look at the stars, take them in. Because when I fuck you, stars are all I want you to see.” He bites and sucks on the skin of her neck “You used to be such a proper lady. Now look at you, getting fucked under the stars by the man who used to care for your lawn. By a serial killer. How does that make you feel, huh baby? How does it make you feel?”

Vera’s eyes were rolling back into her head to the point where she couldn’t even understand his questions. He gently bites her earlobe “Cum for your husband,” he whispers

In an instant her release is violent, twitching, jerking, shaking, squirting, all while Alastor continues to fuck her through it. Her cunt made wet squishing sounds with each extra thrust. She fell limp on his chest as he came inside of her. When they were finished, he lifted and carried her and his belongings back home. Removing her clothes and placing her in a warm bath.

_______________________________

“You know kid, yours is a primetime slot and everything was nice while it lasted, ratings were up, our audience grew but…”

“But what sir?

“The listeners are complaining that you only ever play Jazz music, and Jazz is great, but the listeners need more. Someone more marketable,”

Alastor seethes “Marketable?”

“Yeah, someone like Johnny Radio!”

“So what are you saying, sir? Are you moving my segment up earlier?”

“Oh kid, you slay me,” he puts his hand on Alastor’s shoulder, to which he recoils “We’re canceling your segment. But hey, it was nice while it lasted right? Your things need to be out by the end of the week”

The lamps and plates were no match for Alastor’s rage. He went through the entire house throwing and smashing objects, yelling and creaming all the while. When Vera entered the house she was shocked by the loud sounds and the violent vibrations in their usually calm house.

“Alastor?” She calls out “Alastor?” he can’t hear her over all the noise he is making

She traipses through the house spotting all of the wreckage he’s left in the wake of his anger. She hears him cursing and yelling, breaking more things, and flinches at every sound. His expression is darker than she had ever seen before, as he went on destroying the whole house. He breaks a picture frame and Vera flinches from the break.

“Alastor!” she screams over his rage

He picks up a tiny sculpture made by Brynn, ready to throw it on the ground

“Um, no!” she rushes over and yanks it out of his hands “Absolutely not! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“They’re trying to replace me! In the name of progress!” His radio accent was long gone as he screamed

“What are you talking about?” She yells back

“You’re little friend Sonny? Yeah, he’s canceling my segment!”

“What?! Why?!”

“Apparently I’m no longer marketable! Or who knows, maybe I never was!!”

“He can’t do that! Can he? Well, I guess he can,”

Alastor laughs maniacally “He sure can,” his grin widens “And he is!!!”

“Aww baby I’m so sorry,” she goes to wrap her hands around his arm

He yanks himself out of her arms, leaving the room and gathering all the knives from the kitchen into a large bag

“Alastor what are you doing?”

He grabs all the deadly things in the kitchen “I will be back, don’t wait up. Or you can, this won’t take long,”

“Alastor stop,”

“No,”

“Stop,”

He turns to her, fury in his eyes.

“You need to think before you act. Sonny is a very important figure in this community, he is not like the others. People will surely look into his death,” she looks at him knowingly

He sighs, pulling at his hair

“We have to bump him off after he gets to someone else. Or all the deaths will be traced back to us,” she tells him “You can’t just kill on impulse Alastor!” she whispers

“You’re right,” He slumps down into a chair, looking up at her for guidance “What should we do?

A devious smirk spread across her face “Leave it to me, my love,” she takes a moment to think “Are you up for a party?”

Alastor’s face lights up “You know I am,”

Alastor dons a suit with a red blazer and deep red bow tie, while Vera wears a light pink gown, long white gloves, and a white feather headpiece. They go over their plan in the car.

“Okay, do you remember what we’re looking for?” she asked her husband

“Yes,”

“Tell me,”

“We need to get anything on Sonny to anger someone else,”

Vera raises her brows

“Someone not your father,”

“There you go,” she boops him on the nose “I love you,”

“I love you too. Now let’s divide and conquer.”

They spent the time speaking to everyone at this event and spent the entire time being shooed away like children in the adult’s business. Vera had never been so insulted in her entire life. Alastor was laughed off by multiple people, to the point that he felt like killing everyone around him. They decided to regroup.

“What have you found?” she questions

“Nothing at all,”

“This is beginning to seem like a bust, if we cannot find anything on him, then we might not be able to -“

Alastor pinches her side and she glares at him before noticing the man himself waltzing through

“Speak of the devil,” she whispers “Sonny! Fancy running into you here!”

He gives her a grin and goes in for a hug “I could say the same to you! Vera! I haven’t seen you in so long! Guess he’s wearing you out!” He chuckles gesturing to Alastor “I’m just teasing, how’s it being a wife?”

Vera gives him a fake smile “It’s amazing! I adore my husband,” she pulls Alastor in by his arm “I support him through thick and thin,” she intertwines her fingers with his, and Alastor raises her hand to his lips, pressing them on onto her knuckles “I hear you plan on canceling his segment?”

“Ah yeah, it’s quite a shame. Wasn’t as many listeners as we thought there’d be,”

Alastor squeezes his wife’s hand and she rubs his back, calming him.

“Well that is truly unfortunate, is it not Sonny?”

He shrugs “I suppose, but the show must go on, huh kid?” he slaps Alastor on the arm

Alastor fakes a chuckle “Excuse me,” he walks away laughing through his teeth as Vera looks after him

She turns back to Sonny “So what about you? Hmm, when are you going to take a bride?”

“You know me, I’ve never been one for marriage. My love is radio,”

“Are you sure? You’ll never want a Mrs. Rodgers?”

“Oh, that hasn’t even crossed my mind,”

Just as he was saying that Conrad Edwards-producer of WWL- and his daughter Amelia walk past him, Amelia just barely brushing past and that slight touch catching Sonny’s attention.

“I’m sorry Vera, this conversation has been riveting, but I am needed elsewhere,”

“Of course,” she waves slightly as he takes his leave from the conversation.

Her eyes follow him as he takes off in the same direction as Amelia. Vera remains in place, wondering how she is going to get this to work with Sonny now preoccupied. She then began to wonder what it was about a teenage girl that Sonny -who was older than both her and Alastor- would find so interesting. Suddenly she has a thought that she has to pursue. She followed them, pushing through a myriad of people whose chatter and presence suddenly started to make her body feel tight and cramped, but she ignored the feeling and pursued, toward a closed door that was meant to be the coatroom. Vera presses her ear against the door to hear giggling and moaning.

“Sonny,” moaned a young-sounding feminine voice “My daddy might be looking for me,”

“Tonight I’m your daddy,” replied a voice that sounded much like Sonny’s

Vera is disgusted but she can’t stop listening

“Sonny,” the giggles become moaning which becomes more intense as they go along. They finally reach a peak and Vera has had enough. She stands outside the door, unsure of what to do and where to go. Then she hears approaching footsteps and makes a beeline for the restroom. She leans on the sink processing what she just heard, when the restroom door opens. She looks up to see Amelia herself enter.

“Amelia! I haven’t seen you in so long!” She says “You’ve gotten so big, how old are you now?”

She smiles “15,”

Vera feels sick to her stomach “Ah, that’s right 15 years old. I would’ve thought you were older with all that weight on you,”

She giggles “Can you keep a secret?”

“Well, of course!”

Amelia steps closer to the older woman “I’m actually with child,”

Vera widens her eyes “With child?” the girl seems proud of herself “How far along?”

“2 months, would you like to feel?”

“Of course!”

She caresses the girl’s stomach and it feels firm.

“Wow, that is something! Who’s the father?”

She smirked “It’s a secret, but what I will say is that I’m not going to Catholic school. We’re running away, to Vegas, to get married!”

“Wow! That’s something! Well, I hope it works out for you, I have to find my way back to my husband,” She walks past the young girl, her heels clicking all the way, she turns back around and points to her nose “Ooh, shiny!” and left the room entirely.

She meets back up with her husband, filling his mouth with food in the cutest way possible. She wipes his face with a napkin before starting.

“Alastor darling, you won’t believe what I’ve heard,”

He swallows “What is it?’

“You know of Conrad Edwards? His daughter Amelia is with child,”

“His-his 15 year old daughter?”

“Indeed,”

“Oh my, now that is something, but we needed something on Sonny, my dear,”

Vera tilts her head at her husband knowingly

“Now don’t tell me that Sonny Rodgers is the -“ he raises an eyebrow

Vera nods and Alastor’s grin triples in size.

“Yes, that is true, Sonny Rodgers is the father of Amelia Edwards’s child,” she speaks loudly

“What are you-?” he immediately understands “You are brilliant darling,”

People start looking over their shoulders at the couple, suddenly finding them important enough to listen to.

“I’m sorry, did you say that Sonny Rodgers is the father of Amelia Edwards’s child?”

“I did indeed, were you eavesdropping?”

“Oh of course not, I just overheard,”

“Well, it is true my dear,”

All around the party, this information traveled, to the point where it was the topic of the night.

“They plan to elope!”

“She’s 2 months along already!”

“They’re going to Vegas!”

Once the room was full of it Vera turned to Alastor and said “I suppose now we shall take our leave, my dear husband?”

“I suppose we shall,” he says looping his arms in hers as they exit what is now a gossip-fest.

____________________________

The next morning when Alastor arrives at WWL to prepare for his termination, he sees none other than producer Conrad Edwards surrounded by all the employees, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“If anybody knew about this stand up or I will lynch you like a common colored!!”

Alastor, the only colored person in the room, tries to quietly slink past him and begins gathering all of his things.

“Hey! You!” He points to Alastor, not knowing his name “What are you doing?!” Conrad yells at him

“Gathering my things sir,” Alastor puts on a voice of faux respect

“What do you mean ‘gathering your things’? We’re having a meeting?? Everybody should be in here!!”

“Well sir, I was let go,”

“What? What are you talking about?? I did not authorize any terminations!“

“It was Mr. Rodgers, sir,”

He scoffs as his face turns red with anger “So not only does Sonny think he can have his way with my daughter, but he thinks he can run my company too! Put your things down and come out here. No terminations were authorized!!”

When Sonny enters the room, he stops in his tracks seeing his infuriated boss “Conrad…”

“Everyone get to work! You!” He points to Sonny, “Come with me,” they exit the conference room “HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMN MIND???”

“Sir, please! She came onto me!”

“MY DAUGHTER??!!”

“You don’t understand what we have-“

“SINCE SHE WAS 12??!! YOU ARE FIRED!!! YOU’LL NEVER WORK IN THIS TOWN AGAIN!!”

“You need to just -“

“NO, WHAT I NEED TO DO IS WRING YOUR NECK!!!”

Alastor smiles to himself, thinking about how much he loves his wife.

Well when the time came, Alastor brought that bag of weapons that he’d prepared that night he was throwing everything he could get his hands on. He and Vera broke in through the man’s window, Vera being particularly slow, however.

“Come on!” Alastor whispers yells

“Do not rush me!!” She whispers back

Tip-toeing through the small house into the man’s bedroom and tying him up. Vera turns to her husband

“Okay, what now?”

Alastor stood staring at the sill unconscious man with his fingers on his chin “I’m not sure. I’ve brought so many, that it’s hard to choose,”

“What?! You didn’t choose on the way here?”

Alastor furrows his brows “I told you it’s hard to choose,”

Their bickering causes the incapacitated Sonny to awaken, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He immediately starts squirming and pleading for his life.

“Please, please don’t hurt me. Is this Conrad? I didn’t mean it when I said I was your daughter’s daddy, honest,”

The married couple looks disgusted “You’re sick,” Alastor tells the man

“We should just shoot him, I brought my gun!” She pulls it out and up to Sonny’s head as he sweats and trembles

“Wait, I have a better idea,” he removes his mask

“Alastor! What are you doing?”

“I want him to know it’s me,” he wears a humongous grin as he grabs a bat from his bag as Sonny pees himself

“Please kid, the whole thing with the segment wasn’t personal! It was all about ratings!”

“Well, if that’s what we’re going with” She removes her mask as well

“Vera?”

“Yes?”

“I-“ Alastor swings the bat into Sonny’s jaw, “AGH!!” he screams in pain “Wait, kid please!”

A storm takes over Alastor’s face “My name is ALASTOR!” over and over and over again grunting with every swing “A-L-A-S-T-O-R!!” until Sonny is no longer breathing, but Alastor has to catch his breath

“I feel like I brought the gun for no reason, can I still shoot him?” Vera asks

He’s breathing heavily, bringing the bat down one more time onto Sonny’s skull.

“Help me,” he orders

She rolled her eyes, slipping the gun back into her pocket.

Alastor picks up Sonny’s body by his arms, somewhat dragging him across the floor.

“Remember your gloves, Alastor!” she whispers. “I don’t want anything being traced back to you.”

Alastor groans and unceremoniously drops Sonny’s torso, pulling out his gloves and sliding them on.

“Now help me,”

“Ugh gross,” she picks up his legs with maximum effort, helping her husband carry him out.

They sit at the kitchen table both taking a breath.

“I know you’re upset, but you can’t let your anger ruin your art. You almost got fingerprints everywhere!”

“We didn’t get caught did we? So it’s fine.” he tries to walk past her

She stops him “Alastor, if you’re gonna be bumping people off you need to be smart. I’m just trying to help.” she stands and wraps her arms around his neck “I don’t want anyone to take you away from me.”

He sighs and stands “You’re right,” he holds her by the waist “Thank you for the help.” he leans down for a kiss

“You’re welcome,” she removes his coat

“Shall I pour us some wine for celebration?”

“None for me, thank you,”

“Since when do you miss out on wine?”

She entered the kitchen, her shoes making soft clicks with each step

“Since…I became with child,”

He widens his eyes “Are you.. serious? You’re with child?”

“With children actually,”

“Twins!”

She smiles “Indeed,”

He picks her up and swirls her around “How long?”

“Since I came home and you were smashing things,” she laughs “That’s the day the doctor told me,”

“I never would’ve asked you to help me carry that body if I knew you were with child. In fact, I would’ve done this alone if I had known,” He seems upset with himself “Vera!!”

“Yes?” she bats her lashes

“Why wouldn’t you tell me earlier??”

“Because this was important to you. It’s okay! I love to help you!”

Alastor shakes his head and bites his lip, grinning “I love you,”

“I love you too,” she kisses him back

17 notes · View notes

callsign-dexter · 11 months ago

Text

Whisper in the Wind: 6 Months AU

Request: for the angst starters may I humbly request these two for Ben and Natasha? 🙏🏻

‘hold my hand if you need to.’

‘don’t panic.’

Starter: 'Hold my hand if you need to.' and 'Don't panic'

Pairings: OC!Benjamin Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader, Natasha Trace x Daughter!Reader, Benjamin Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Bradley Bradshaw x OC!Wife!Leah Bradshaw

Warnings: angst, inaccurate hospital talk, car crashes, pregnancy

Masterlist

Whisper in the Wind

miscellaneous angst starters

A/N: thank you @justabigassnerd for giving me these angst prompts so that this AU piece could come to life.

Natasha and Ben have been engaged for about 6 months now. They had decided to wait until their little girl was born and a few months old before they even talked about getting married. Natasha had 3 months to go and then they would be holding their baby girl in their arms. Originally, they talked about not knowing the gender of their soon-to-be bundle of joy but they just couldn’t help themselves and broke down and found out the gender. There were some rough patches in the pregnancy but with both parents being in the military they handled with control and ease. They still hadn’t decided on a name but they did have several picked out and they knew for sure that they wanted her middle name to be Caroline a tribute to Ben and Bradley’s mother.

It was finally the weekend which meant that they had a whole two days by themselves. Natasha wasn’t allowed to fly but she still had to go in to work on paperwork and get things settled for when she and Ben went on maternity leave. Since Ben didn’t want her driving, he had taken it upon himself to drive both of them into work and back home. He doted on her the very second, she found out she was pregnant, he already doted on her but when he found out that she was carrying his unborn child he stepped it up big time, then again, his mother raised him to treat a woman right and he was also so much like his father.

Ben and Natahsa had just arrived home and he helped her get out of her Nissan Xterra and grabbed their stuff as they made their way into the house. When they got in, he was quick to bend down and take off her boots and then when he was done, he stayed on his eyes that was he was eye level with her stomach and held it in his hands and kissed it and smiled. Natasha smiled at the action he had done every day to the point it had become a ritual; he was really going to be a great father. “Alright, Jellybean. No, giving your mom a hard time tonight, we want her well rested.” He said and their baby moved into his hands and voice, Natasha had come to the conclusion that she was going to be daddy’s girl through and through. She brought her hands to his hair and ran them through enjoying the moment. “Now it’s time to get you and momma fed.” He said and gave one more kiss to her stomach and then stood up and kissed her. Then he got to work. “How about some homemade mac and cheese and some pork chops and yes there will be hot sauce.” Ben said and Natasha smiled, one thing about Ben was that he was an excellent cook and she was too but after becoming pregnant some smells got to her and it just made her exhausted and she left all the cooking duties to him.

“Sounds absolutely perfect.” She said and then she felt a kick and chuckled and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow “Eaglet agrees.” She said and he chuckled.

“Now go and sit down I’ll bring it to you when it is ready.” He said and she nodded and went and sat down in a kitchen chair that way she could still talk to him and be with him. She was just happy to take the pressure off of her feet. They talked about work and the plans about when their daughter was here and most importantly names. As they were talking her phone began to ring and she got it out of her pocket and looked at the caller id and it was Bradley and she answered it and put it on speaker.

“Hey you’re on speaker.” She said and she heard a chuckle.

“We’ll I guess I can’t tell you about the deep dark secrets of Ben then.” Bradley said and they all chuckled but Ben rolled his eyes but smile appeared on his face.

“Just remember that I know a lot of secrets about you little brother that Leah doesn’t know about.” He said tending the food as he heard a gasp from him.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Bradley said

“Try me.” Ben said and Natasha just smiled at their bickering.

“The reason I called was because we wanted to know what you were doing and how Birdie was doing.” He said, he had given the baby that name because Ben’s callsign was Eagle and so was Natasha’s was Phoenix, they were truly keeping the bird callsigns in the family.

“Well Ben is cooking some pork chops and homemade mac and cheese and Eaglet has been pretty much cooperative during the day until we got home and her daddy had talked to her.” Natasha said rubbing her belly and Ben looked at her watching her has he flipped the pork chops and could take his eyes off of them.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t do for some of his homemade mac and cheese.” Leah said “Wanna send us some?” She asked and everyone chuckled.

“You got it.” Ben said fully joking the food was pretty much done and now it was resting and cooling off. “What’s your plans for the weekend?” Ben asked them.

“Nothing huge. Maybe go down to the beach. You guys?” Bradley asked

“Nothing really, just gonna spend some time with each other and stay off my feet.” Natasha said

“Well, we don’t want to keep you guys. Have a good night and enjoy your homemade mac and cheese. We love you.” Leah said full of jealously.

“We will. Goodnight, guys. We love you too.” Ben said and Natasha hung up and Ben began plating her plate and then he brought it over with her glass of water and set it down in front of her.

“Why thank you fiancée.” She said and bent down and kissed her.

“You’re welcome my soon to be wife.” He said after breaking the kiss and then he went and got his food and glass of water, he would’ve gotten a beer or something sweetened but when Natasha had to quit drinking and was advised to not drink anything sugary, Ben had made it his choice to go along with her because he loved her so much and it was heathier in the long run.

Supper came and went and now the were finding themselves sitting on the couch snuggled together as they watched a comedy. Natasha was cuddled into Ben and he had his arms around her and one set on her stomach. Every now and then their baby would kick and they both smiled, she seemed so active while Ben was around.

Midnight rolled around and they finally decided to go to bed. Ben helped his pregnant fiancée up and helped her walk up the stairs making sure she wouldn’t fall backwards once all 3 of them were up safely he let up on his protectiveness. They got ready together and then they were slipping in to bed for a, hopefully, a goodnight’s sleep and not a lot of getting up to go pee.

Morning came around and thankfully she had only had to get up twice during the night and both times she had succeeded without waking Ben up, which was a surprise. Naturally they were early risers but they could get away with sleeping until 10 AM on most weekends. Ben had actually gotten up before Natasha and was getting breakfast ready. She was just about to get up when he came through with a tray with two plates of food, fruits, and drinks of their choice. “I figured we would have breakfast in bed and then go out and spend sometime out on the town.” Ben said and she smiled.

“That sounds perfect.” She said and he smiled then he walked into the room the rest of the way and sat down on the bed and put the tray in between them and then he turned on the TV. Nothing interesting was on so they switched to their DVR and watched some saved shows that they wanted to catch up on. Natasha started to get restless and this caught Ben’s attention almost immediately.

“What’s wrong?” He asked moving the try so he could have better access to her.

“Nothing worrisome. Your child is just playing soccer with my bladder and making me need to pee.” She said and he laughed.

“Always my child when she is doing something.” He chuckled but got up and began to help her get up and to their connected bathroom. When she was done, she flushed and washed her hands and then joined her fiancée back in bed.

“So, what do you have planned for us today?” She asked and he looked at her.

“Well, we need to run to the store and grab a few things and then I figured we would go baby shopping for a little bit more stuff.” Ben said and she smiled, he was always thinking of her and their baby always putting them first.

“That sounds perfect.” She said and then they started to get ready to leave. As always, they got ready together and then walked downstairs together. Ben helped his fiancée get her shoes on and then he got his shoes and they were heading out the door. They had decided to take Natasha’s vehicle since it had more space than his truck, he helped her get in and then he got in and opened the garage. Ben started the car and backed out of the garage and they were on their way and pulling out of the neighborhood.

The car ride was filled with laughter and music. Nothing could bother the happy couple. They had just come to a red light. He kept looking over at his perfect pregnant fiancée and she was glowing and he smiled. “Have I ever told you that you’re the most beautiful pregnant woman ever?” He asked and hung her head smirked.

“Every single day and I’ll never get tired of it.” She said and then he turned back to the road as he saw the light turn green in his peripheral view. Just as he was starting to go and cross an intersection and car from the left side came barreling at them and the only thing, he heard was a honk and metal crushing against metal and then the pain came. The other car was going at such a high speed that it pushed them to the other side of the road and flipped them and then they were crashing into a telephone pole. Both of them were knocked unconscious. Ben had slumped onto the wheel and on the horn making it blare and Natasha was knocked into the back of her seat.

The blaring horn is what woke him up and then the pain came to him everywhere. It took him a few minutes to figure out where he was but when he figured it out, he started to panic, he slowly lifted his head and he groaned in pain and then laid it on his headrest. He needed Nat so all of his attention turned to her and when he tried to move his body protested. “Nat?” He asked in a hoarse voice but got no answer “Baby.” He said and found some strength to move his hand and to her. But yet again no response.

Natahsa didn’t know where she was but she was waking up in the bar Carole, Bradley, and Ben they had visited when they went to see Goose and Maverick. She just looked around until she heard music and then Carole and Goose laughing together, she recognized them from the pictures that Bradley and Ben had laying around and on the wall. “Carole? Goose?” He asked and they turned to her and smiled and she got up from the table as Goose started to play the familiar tune of Great Balls of Fire. “What’s going on?” She asked and they looked at him sadly.

“You were in a car accident baby.” Carole said and stroked her cheek and she leaned into it; her touch felt so warm.

“Ben. Our child.” She said and began to panic.

“Ben is alright. He’s trying to wake you up and it is not your time so we don’t have long.” Goose said as he played the tune.

“Our baby?” She asked moving her hand to her stomach.

“They’re ok for right now. Help is on the way but you need to wake up.” Carole said

“I wish you both were down there with us. It would mean the world to us.” Natasha said and they smiled softly at her.

“We are with you. Just look around. We’re a whisper in the wind.” Goose said and that made Natasha smile.

“Gosh, I’ve always wanted to meet you but not like this.” She said and they chuckled.

“We’re always watching. We’re just happy we can meet you now and can’t wait for your wedding and seeing our grandchild be born. May I?” Carole asked and Natasha nodded and she put her hand on her stomach and then she felt a kick and she smiled that was the first time she felt her kick since the accident. Goose stood up as Carole took her hand off of Natasha’s stomach and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m so glad that Ben has met you. You both are perfect for each other.” Goose said and she melted into his touch it reminded her off Ben’s. All too soon the warmth was gone and then being replaced by Carole.

“Now, get back down there to our son, your fiancée, have this sweet little girl, get married, and help Leah keep our boys straight. Who knows where they would’ve ended up if they hadn’t found you both.” Carole said and released.

“Now don’t keep Ben waiting. He’s getting panicked. Tell the boys and Leah that we love them so much.” Goose said and she nodded.

“It was nice meeting you even if the circumstances weren’t great.” She said and they all laughed and then they said their goodbyes and she was waking up to Ben’s gentle touch.

“Baby?” Ben said and she slowly opened her eyes and looked over at him and he sighed in relief and then the pain hit her and she wanted to scream. She must’ve made a face because he was taking her hand “Hold my hand if you need to.” He said and she took it and squeezed it and he didn’t complain.

“I think something is wrong with the baby.” She said as more pain hit her.

“What do you mean?” He asked worrying.

“It hurts.” She said

“Don’t panic.” He started “Help is on the way.” He said and about that time sirens could be heard and then someone was rushing to them. The window was smashed so it was easy to talk to them “Help her first. She’s 6 months pregnant and in a lot of pain.” He said and they nodded.

“How are you feeling sir?” One paramedic asked.

“Everything hurts but I’ll be fine just help my pregnant fiancée, please.” He said

“We understand sir, we also need to help you. My partners are helping them.” They said and he slowly nodded. With controlled chaos they got them out and they were heading to the hospital. They were rolled into the hospital and they had taken him to an emergency room and then he saw her being wheeled passed him and he panicked.

“Where are they taking her?” He asked trying to get up but was pushed down by nurses and doctors and he let them due to the pain.

“Sir, just lay down.” A doctor said and he started to struggle.

“No, I need to know where my fiancée is being taken.” He said and tried to get up again and struggle and then they were pushing a sedative into his IV that was set in the ambulance and he was out like a light muttering that he needed to get to Natasha and their unborn baby.

Ben didn’t know how long he was out for but when he woke up Bradley and Leah were there and that confused him. “Bradley?” He slurred and that caught Bradley and Leah’s attention.

“Hey. How you feeling?” Leah asked putting a comforting hand on his hand.

“I’m fine. Nat and Jellybean?” He asked

“They’re in surgery.” Bradley asked and Ben’s heart monitor was starting to spike.

“What?” He asked starting to panic again and Bradley stood up and was lightly pushing Ben back as he tried to get up.

“They said they were both doing fine. There was a placenta tear but they’re fixing it. They’re both going strong. You’re going to be released once thy are out of surgery and when you woke up.” Bradley said and he nodded and settled down and the heart monitor settled, Bradley released him. He didn’t know Leah had left the room until she came back with a nurse and his doctor.

“Captain Bradshaw, you were lucky. You just had a dislocated shoulder and a cracked rib. We did have to sedate you after you starting resisting but we understand. Your wife and baby are doing well from the last I heard and should be out and in recovery in a few minutes. We’ll start your release process and get you to their room as soon as possible.” He said and Ben nodded.

“Thank you.” He said and the doctor nodded and then left as the nurse had him sign releasee forms and take the IV out.

“We stopped by the house and got some clothes for both of you.” Leah said holding a bag up and he smiled.

“Thank you, guys. Thank you for getting down here so quickly.” Ben said and slowly got up and Leah walked out of the room while Bradley helped his older brother then she got the all clear to come in.

“Anything for my older brother and future sister-in-law and niece.” Bradley said and Ben hugged him and then they released and Leah brought him in a hug.

“You guys scared us. We’re just glad you’re ok. We got the call and then were on the next flight out to here.” Leah said as she released him from the hug. About that time a nurse came in to grab them and take them to Natasha and their baby, Y/N. They followed in silence and when they got there and Ben saw his fiancée laying there, he almost broke down but when he heard his baby’s heartbeat he broke down and almost collapsed, he would’ve if Bradley wasn’t there to catch him. They walked in and Ben sat down on the chair not having his full strength back and Bradley hugged Leah. The doctor turned to them and smiled.

“Both of them are just fine. She was lucky to have only sprained her wrist and there was a placenta tear but we repaired it and everything was successful. She should be waking here in a few minutes since we didn’t want to use much anesthesia on her and the baby. The nurse and I will be back in a few to check on them both.” He said and they nodded and then left and that is when Leah and Bradley took their seats.

10 minutes later Natasha was waking up to bright lights and to her sleeping fiancée with his hand on her stomach and Bradley and Leah, who were awake. Leah was the first to notice “Hey.” She said softly and Nat smiled.

“How long has he been asleep?” Nat asked referring to Ben.

“Not too long. Want me to wake him?” Bradley asked and she shook her head.

“No, I will.” She said and they nodded and then she slowly turned to him and brought her right hand to his face and began to stroke it and started to speak softly. Once she saw him show his signs of waking up, she smiled and after a minute or two he woke up confused but then he saw her awake and was awake in an instant.

“Baby.” He said and got up and kissed her forehead his hand never leaving her stomach. “You’re ok.” He said and she nodded.

“We’re both ok.” She said and it was quiet for a minute. “I saw Goose and Carole while we were in the car.” She said and everyone was silent. “They told me to tell you that they love you and that I needed to come back to help Leah keep you boys straight.” She said and they chuckled.

“Yea that sounds like dad.” Ben said and Bradley nodded. The nurse and doctor walked in and checked on them and told them that they wanted to keep her in the hospital for a few days just to be sure and they agreed. Bradley and Leah would still be there they told work that they had a family emergency and had to be gone for a few weeks and they understood.

After a few days Nat got the all clear to go home and that is exactly what they did. It was really nice having Bradley and Leah there and they never got in the way and if Nat and Ben wanted space, they gave it to them. The doctor’s told them to take it easy and that is exactly what they were doing and why Bradley and Leah stayed.

Goose and Carole were looking down on their children and smiled. All of them were alive and healthy and their granddaughter was active but not too active sensing that her mother had something done and didn’t want to injury her further. “They’re going to be ok.” Carole said as she snuggled into Goose and he threw an arm around his wife. He kissed the side of her head and smiled.

“Yes, they are.” Goose said “Our granddaughter is going to be one spoiled little girl and is going to be one little fighter.” He said.

“Yes, she is. I can’t wait to watch her grow up.” Carole said

This accident just brought everyone together and they formed a stronger bond because of it. Ben, Natasha, and Y/N were safe. They were under careful watch of Bradley, Leah, Goose, and Carole. Nothing could bring them down they were a strong family and nothing was going to break them. They loved each other and were going to take care of each other no matter if their sick or just having a bad day. They're family and to them family sticks together no matter what unless you pull their Naval Academy papers then that’s a whole different story.

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overwhelve · 4 months ago

Text

- nothing personal

hello :3 here's a short something i wrote involving my two ocs, Idymo (left) and Aya (right)!

warnings : very cute also very sad, mentions (and kinda actual) of death - 7.06k words

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

This was a bad idea. Terrible, even. How did she get dragged into this ordeal?

“Keep up, Aya. I’m thrice your age and you’re laggin’ behind like a snail!”

“I’m coming!” Aya groaned. She was a metre behind (more like two), not that far.

The older woman who led ahead was hunched over, her feet jadedly shuffling through the dirt road. The hot summer air was starting to get to the two of them, tanned skin shiny from sweat, Sighilde’s exhaustion was beginning to visibly show. A long walk combined with unpleasantly humid temperatures were never ideal motivations for older folk to venture outside, but here was Sighilde.

Aya felt a pang of guilt that Sighilde pushed beyond her physical limits just to help her, perhaps that’s why she decided to fall behind a couple of paces. The guilt subdued when she was able to forget about the present situation, and instead let her mind drift into the peaceful surroundings of nature all around. It was hot, but it was also a beautiful morning.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” Aya half-shouted from behind. “I could’ve gone by myself.”

“Believe me, if I’d trusted you to go alone, I’d be back at home with a cup of tea right now.” Sighilde chuckled, waving a hand up.

Aya skipped ahead to finally catch up with the older woman, though she was still a couple steps behind. “Really, I would have.” she asserted.

Sighilde turned an amber eye in Aya’s direction. “I’ll believe it when I see it, dear.”

“I-I’m serious! You don’t have to go out of your way to do me all of these favours.”

Sighilde halted on the path, a deep sigh escaping through her thin lips. “If I don’t, no one will. You refuse to do anything to improve your life.”

“That’s not true!”

“The most socialisation you get, besides me, is your plants. I know you talk to them.”

Aya’s face grew hot. So what if she had conversations with her plants? She didn’t need friends. The outside world was a dangerous and scary place, full of the unknown and uncertainty. Pain and suffering. Her garden was her little sanctuary, and the many species of plants and flowers her company. It was a simple life, one she did not understand the point in disrupting her peaceful world. She was perfectly content like this….right?

“Ayariauma, you are the most stubborn girl I have ever met in my many years of life on this earth.” was anything but a new declaration.

“Thank you.”

“I’m serious. It’s going to be your demise one of these days, you know?”

The younger woman’s brown eyes rolled, as she would always roll off Sighilde’s concerns. “That’s really encouraging.” Sarcasm laced her tone. “I feel so inspired.”

She turned her body fully to face Aya, peering up at her with a stern look on her face. “Look, I’m not trying to scare you, or be the bad guy,” Sighilde began. “but I won’t be around forever —”

“Can you not bring that up?” Aya abruptly interrupted. “Please.”

“You can’t run from your problems forever. They’ll catch up to you, whether you like it or not.”

Aya’s wings that were previously puffed out and open, drew closer to her body. They pressed flat to her back and her hands gripped tightly onto her arms, making herself smaller.

Many times before had Aya ran as far away and hid from her problems, yet the outcome was always the same; the most painful kick to the ass you could ever imagine, the kind that knocked you face down into a puddle of mud. But yet again without fail, she never bothered to break the vicious cycle she was stuck in. Running away was easier than dealing with the anxiety that flared within her.

“I’m sorry. This heat’s really getting to me.” Sighilde apologised with a deflated heave. “I don’t mean to be harsh, but I still mean everything that I said.”

Aya said nothing but scowled as Sighilde rambled on. The older woman's lectures were quite frequent as of late.

“I understand your fears. The world is a scary place, but you have to be brave. You can’t run forever. This is a small step in the right direction for you. So please, even if you don’t want to do this for yourself, do it for me. It’ll help me sleep at night.

It’s just a little friend. Animals aren’t complicated like people, you have nothing to fear.”

Aya sucked in a nervous breath. “Okay.”

“I think you’ll like them. And the woman who keeps and trains them sounds absolutely lovely. I spoke to her to organise some arrangements before we came.”

“Oh gods,” Aya groaned with humiliation. “what did you tell her?”

“Well, I explained the basis of your condition to her. She was very understanding.” Sighilde began. “I spoke with her two weeks ago, and she insisted that she wouldn’t have anyone at her home for a week before this date. Isn’t that generous?”

“A week? I feel bad.”

“Well don't. You have to stop feeling bad about things that people willingly choose to do, even if it's for you. She did that without me even asking. I think you’ll like her.”

“I came for the littílkats, not to get personal with anyone.” Aya reminded.

“I’m just trying to ease your fears, my dear, because you’ll have to talk to her regardless.”

Soon enough, they came to their destination. Turning the corner around the last of dense forest growth, they came across a decorative little cottage, sitting in the middle of a clearing. There was plenty of foliage surrounding the little house, visibly well taken care of. Aya could spot plots growing various plants on the side, and trees with dappled colours of fruits sprouted from behind the building. Whoever lived here definitely had a commitment to gardening. To say she was enthralled was an understatement.

“Beautiful place, eh? I knew you’d like it.” Sighilde chirped.

“I love it!” Aya couldn’t help but get excited over the scenery before her, even though that wasn’t the reason why they were here. Part of her began to think that maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as she initially thought.

As they neared the cottage, Aya observed more of her surroundings. There was a small stream that ran through the clearing, and the chattering sounds of what must be the littilkats.

Sighilde rapped five times on the front door. The older woman turned her head towards Aya, flashing a reassuring smile.

Aya’s skin tingled with anxiety. She hated being around strangers, let alone having to meet and actually talk to them. There was also the constant fear of what if they were sick and never knew. Aya dreaded the thought of it, but speaking of getting sick, she came to a realisation that made her heart drop into her stomach.

“Wait, I forgot my face mask at home!” she fumed. How could she forget it?!

“Oh, that’s alright.” Sighilde reassured with a firm hand on her shoulder. “You won’t need it.”

“Yes I need it!” Aya hissed. “Getting sick is the last thing I need!”

Before Sighilde had the chance to respond, the sound of a knob turning interrupted them, and the front door swung open.

“Glad you two could make it!” A voice spoke. A woman’s voice; a little bit on the deeper side. Soft, and flowed sweetly like honey. Though she spoke in the Etheldredian language, Aya easily picked up on an accent.

That accent, I know it from somewhere. She thought.

“Aya, it’s lovely to finally meet you. My name’s Idymo.”

Idymo. Of course, it was an Umaeban accent. The same as her father. Sighilde was indeed right, Aya wouldn’t need her face mask.

Idymo towered over her with a beaming smile, her starry eyes twinkling in the sunlight. She was a renatus, a kibaonu, she was not endangering Aya in any way.

Aya’s tensed shoulders relaxed now at this newly learned information. She gave a gentle smile, shyly averting her gaze away. “It’s nice to meet you too.” she mumbled.

Idymo stepped aside so they could pass by to enter her home. “I hope your travel here was well, I didn’t expect it to be so hot during the morning. May I get you anything, some water perhaps?”

“It was alright. And some water would be great, thank you.” Sighilde grinned.

“Of course, have a seat and make yourselves at home. I’ll be right back.” She trekked away to the kitchen area.

Aya could not bring herself to peel her eyes away from her for some reason, fascinated by the way she carried herself. Dare she admit that she was gorgeous. Aya was tall, but Idymo was tall, easily towering over the younger woman. She had a generous amount of nebulardermis covering her body, a deep blue scattered atop her otherwise olive skin, sprinkled with thousands of twinkling stars. Her hair was black and silky, tied back in a loose band and so much length that it nearly dragged along the wood floor. It flowed with the robes of her attire as she made her away around the house.

The guest pair sat on a plush couch situated in the middle of the main room. The interior was quite open, decorated with many shelves and.. hideouts?

Meshes of rope, items that looked like toys, and fabricated tunnels scattered all of the rooms that were visible, and presumably more out of sight.

Soft steps and the repeated tap! tap! of nails interrupted Aya’s daze. Idymo had returned, two glasses of cool water in hand.

“Here you both are. I hope they’re cold enough.”

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” Sighilde gave a warm smile.

“Of course.” Idymo bowed her head. She sat down across from them, folding her hands in her lap. “Alright, so, I’d like to get to know a little bit more about you, Aya.”

Aya almost spat out her water. This is exactly what she didn’t come here for. Her eyes narrowed, glaring at the other two women.

Sighilde nudged her side gently. “Go on.”

Idymo's head tilted, an awkward smile plastered on her face. “It’s just so that I can understand your condition more. Sighilde had given me some information when we met previously.”

Aya gripped onto her glass a bit tighter. So much for not getting personal with anyone.

Sighilde sighed, bringing a wrinkled hand to rub her face in frustration. “Aya.”

Aya flattened her wings. She wanted to leave.

“I could explain the process of the adoption instead, so you’ll know what to expect. Is that alright?” Idymo questioned.

“Yeah.” Aya muttered bitterly.

“Let’s go out back into the sanctuary where all the littílkats are. I’ll let you hang out with them for a while until you find one that you like.” Idymo explained. “From there, I will have to help train it to perform tasks to support you with your needs. That’s why I ask to know more about you, it’s crucial for that process. If you’re not comfortable with those kinds of conversations quite yet, I understand.”

Aya’s brows furrowed as she processed Idymo's words. Train, that means I’ll have to see her more, right?

“Oh.”

“Aya is unable to go into town. If she gets sick, she’s bedbound for weeks.” Sighilde began. “When these episodes occur, she can’t do anything for herself, so I become her caretaker. I have to be careful, because there are times when I unfortunately bring home a little something. I can’t guarantee her wellbeing, no matter how careful I am in public.”

Idymo's gaze shifted from Sighilde to Aya. "That’s terrible, I’m sorry you have to suffer like that, Aya.”

Aya turned her head away from both women, utterly embarrassed. Their stares felt like they were searing the scattered patches of feathers off of her skin.

“She won’t let anyone else help her, so I resorted to an animal companion that would be able to help.” Sighilde’s tone was laced with sadness. “I’m old, I can’t deny that it’s getting more difficult for me each day. As much as I wish I could do everything for her, I can’t. Not forever.”

“I can only imagine.” Idymo’s expression became sullen with sympathy. “So you are looking for a littílkat to assist with basic care. Food, water, medicine, they can also learn to detect illnesses.”

Sighilde’s eyes brightened. “Yes, that sounds perfect.”

“Okay, that’s a great start.” Idymo cheered. “Aya, would you like to come outside and meet the littílkats?”

“Okay.” Aya placed her glass on a small, wooden table to the side. She rose and followed Idymo towards the back of the house.

“You girls take your time out there, I’ll be inside avoiding that awful heat!” Sighilde laughed.

“Of course, relax as much as you need. There's fresh fruit on the kitchen table if you get hungry!” Idymo called back into the house.

The sanctuary behind the house was a lot bigger than Aya had initially anticipated. Tiny wooden bridges connected the many fruit trees, also decorated by tiny wooden houses. Small burrows, water pools, and even more toys were scattered around, like a giant playpen for small creatures.

Lots of chirps, followed by the soft sounds of tiny paws scurrying about filled the atmosphere. Aya raised a leg to proceed after Idymo, but was startled by a flurry of furry creatures racing past her feet.

“What the —!” Aya gasped in surprise.

Idymo let out an alluring laugh. “Careful. They seem to be in a frisky mood at the moment.”

“I can see that.” Aya huffed as she regained her footing, proceeding more carefully now.

“Don’t worry, they’re not always like this. Just have to get their zoomies out and then they’re calm again.”

Looking around again, Aya noticed a couple of the littílkats crouched by small shrubs, picking off berries to snack on.

“What’s their diet?” Aya inquired, watching the small animals with curiosity.

“Fruits, vegetables, and insects. I’ll give you a list of which ones are good for them after.”

“That’s good to know. I can plant some fruit trees for them.”

Idymo raised her brows in surprise. “You garden?”

At the mention of gardening, Aya piped up almost immediately. “Yes! It’s the best thing in the world.”

“That’s perfect. I could even spare you some seeds if you need them.”

“Yes! I'd like that.”

Idymo giggled, stopping in an open patch of grass in the middle of the yard. Her tall figure lowered to the ground in a crouch, beckoning Aya forward to follow her.

She reached into the pouch that sat on her hip, pulling out a handful of small, red berries.

“These are their absolute favourite. I use them as treats, otherwise all of the berries in the garden would be gone in a day.” Idymo used her other hand to conceal the berries in her palm, gods forbid they would be ambushed by the tiny creatures if they caught a glimpse of the sweet treats.

Idymo inserted her index finger and thumb into her mouth, blowing a loud whistle. “Ibo nga’o!” She called out. (Come here!)

Wow, it really was Ancient Umaeba! Aya thought excitedly to herself. I’ve never met another person who could speak it.

Several littilkats jumped down and ran out at Idymo’s call. They peered up at the two women with big, curious eyes. A few of them cautiously inched forward, their interest peaked on Idymo’s closed fist.

“Ah-ah!” She raised her free hand, signalling for them to stop. “Niyae na nga’o.” (Stay.)

The littílkats hopped backwards, diverting their attention back to Idymo. “Weia.” She praised. (Good.)

“Tu Oba turi tae?” Aya asked, more of a statement as she knew for certain it was her first language that Idymo was speaking. (Ancient Umaeba?)

“Ta dyy tu Oba turi kora ome tae?” Idymo blinked in surprise. (You can speak Ancient Umaeba too?)

Aya chuckled nervously. “A bit. I’m very out of practice, it’s been a while since I’ve had someone to speak it with.”

“I see, that’s pretty cool! How did you learn it?”

“It was my first language.” Aya shrugged. “Probably doesn’t seem like it now, though.’

“Oh wow, really? I thought I heard a slight accent in your voice.” Idymo commented with a bright smile. “Who taught you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Aya’s expression faltered into a slight frown at those memories being brought up. It wouldn’t hurt to mention it, she supposed.

“My father. He’s a kibaonu.”

“Oh, right." Idymo nodded in acknowledgement. "I’d be happy to practice Ancient Umaeba with you, if you ever wanted to.”

Aya froze. Again, she wasn’t here to get personal. Idymo seemed nice, really nice. She’d feel bad about being rude to her, so Aya decided to give a gentler response. “I’ll think about it, thanks.”

Idymo’s eyes crinkled in another big, radiant smile. “Of course!”

So radiant, it made Aya feel funny. What the fuck?

Sighilde was more than at peace inside of the cool house. As the day fell into the afternoon, the sun grew hotter. At her age, the scorching heat of the summer season was more unpleasant than not, especially on days like these.

From where she sat, she could peer out of a wide window that gave her a perfect view of the sanctuary, and what Idymo and Aya were up to.

She had known Aya for a long time by this point, enough time to know her deep down. She looked relaxed, despite being left alone with a total stranger. Sighilde was pleasantly surprised. Perhaps this is the push she needed, a taste of everything she had been missing out on for the entirety of her life.

Give a sunflower a taste of sunlight, and it will forever yearn for warmth.

Sighilde was already aware that Idymo would become a regular visitor at their home if they adopted a littílkat. She didn’t mind, Idymo was lovely to be around. Wherever she went, she enlightened the room with her contagiously joyful spirit. She was great at listening, and even better at comforting others, something that Sighilde struggled with when it came to Aya.

She knew it would be unprofessional to ask for any more favours from the renatus, but Sighilde hoped, truly hoped that perhaps Aya would warm up to Idymo.

An hour passed, or two. Perception of time was something that slipped out of her grasp easily whenever she was tending to her plants, but never outside of that. Hours were long and full of anxiety. The dread of not knowing whether tomorrow would be overcome with agony.

Aya held a different fruit, a long, curved, yellow fruit that had its peel pulled back to reveal the sweet flesh underneath.

After some time of interacting and playing with the littílkats, one had taken a particular liking to Aya.

“It’s a girl,” Idymo had said. “she’s a little sweetheart.”

Idymo had handed her the fruit she was now feeding the small animal. A banana, she called it. Aya would have to find what markets sold them in her area.

The littílkat took small bites, her tiny hands gripping the flesh of the fruit while she nibbled away.

She was adorable. Her fur was a light beige, with darker hues of a rich umber on her snout, around her eyes, and along her body. Her massive eyes locked gaze with Aya’s own, a fiery gold that seemed to glow in the summer sun.

“She likes you.”

“Only because I’m feeding her.” Aya remarked doubtedly.

“She’s shy, doesn’t warm up to strangers as easily as the others do. I’ve never seen her approach a newcomer as fast as she did.”

The littílkat suddenly pulled away from the fruit, having had her fill. She leapt into Aya's lap and gazed up at her.

“She definitely likes you.” Idymo affirmed.

Aya gasped as the littílkat jumped up onto her chest, her hands shooting up to support the little animal so she wouldn’t slide off. She curled into her, a soft vibration emitting from her tiny body.

“Aww..” the corners of Aya's mouth curved into a sheepish smile. She held the animal ever so carefully. Its fur was so, so soft, like nothing she had ever touched before.

“Any objections to her choice?” Idymo softly laughed, careful not to wake the littílkat.

“None at all.” Aya shook her head. “I think I like her too.”

“Let’s go inside then. You can bring her with you.” Idymo rose, extending a hand to help Aya up.

“I’ll give you a rundown of everything you’ll need to know, as well as the supplies she’ll need to start you off.” Idymo began. All three (four if you count the new addition) sat at the dining table, a variety of foods piled in front of Idymo.

“They’re not too difficult to care for. Feed them twice a day. Once in the morning, once in the evening. You don’t have to feed them too much, as they’re smart enough to know where you keep the food and will definitely try to get a snack.”

“Is that bad?” Sighilde asked.

“Not necessarily. As long as they’re not eating too much outside of their scheduled meals, they’ll be fine. If they’re outside, they’re bound to find plenty of insects to snack on anyways.

Once you bond with her more and she’s better trained, you can let them outside anytime without having to keep an eye on her.

They’ll know where home is and not stray too far.”

Sighilde quickly jotted down notes on a piece of paper. Her memory was not what it used to be, she'd forget half of the instructions by tomorrow afternoon.

“How often do you plan to come over to help train the little one?” inquired Sighilde.

Idymo pondered for a moment. “As long as I don't get swamped by work, I could try to be there from Mánadagr through Frjádagr. If that’s alright you with, of course.”

Sighilde brightened up at that, much to Aya’s dismay. “Oh yes, that’d be perfect!”

Aya remained silent, not wanting to voice her objections. This is only temporary, this is only temporary.

“Perfect then!” Idymo clapped with a toothflashing grin. “I’ll stick to this schedule for now then. It helps that I don’t have any other clients at the moment. Once she is better trained in her tasks, I can reduce my visits.”

The littílkat was sleeping peacefully, now having moved to curl up on Aya’s shoulder. She’ll have to think of a name soon.

The first few weeks of training were challenging, to say the least, but the results were promising. Like Idymo had assured, she showed up on all the days she promised to be there.

“Djao, fetch water.”

The littílkat hurried off around the bend of a corner.

Idymo sat with Aya in the main area of her house. Two weeks had gone by, and the new addition to the home was settling in well.

“I think I’ll name her Djaodunawetwi. Djao for short.” (A/N: Djaodunawetwi is the A. Umaeban word for 'golden'. The literal translation is 'of sunlight', because the "Sun" shines like gold.)

“Ooh! I like that.” Idymo agreed. “Why did you settle on that name?”

“Her eyes are like sunlight. They’re beautiful.” Aya smiled.

Djao skipped back into the living room, a small cup of water in grasp. She jumped up into Aya’s lap, spilling the rest of whatever water was left in the cup all over her sundress.

Idymo burst into a fit of laughter. Aya scowled, despite the heat that crept into her cheeks. She would never admit to it, but she had grown used to the melody of what was Idymo’s laughter.

“I apologise, I shouldn’t be laughing. I guess we forgot to teach her to be slow when she has cup full of water. Look at the trail she left!”

Aya’s gaze followed Idymo’s. Surely enough, there were several splotches of water along the path that Djao had taken.

“Maybe we should invest in cups with a lid.”

Idymo shook her head. “Don’t worry, they can be taught to not spill water all over the place. We’ll work on that.”

On the fifth week, Aya had contracted an illness of some sort. One day she was alright, and by the next, she was unable to get out of bed.

“Aya, I’ll be gone for about three days. Are you sure you have everything you need?” Sighilde fretted. She always hated leaving her alone, unsure if she would be okay.

“Yes. I’ll be alright here, you can stop fussing over me and go.” Aya grumbled from where she sat at the table, busy sorting through piles of various seeds.

“Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.” Sighilde teased, stuffing the last of her belongings into a brown bag.

“I’m not.” Aya huffed out. “You’ve just been fussing over me all morning.”

“I just want to make sure you’re safe and prepared. I don’t want anything to happen while you’re all alone.”

“Nothing is going to happen. I can take care of myself.” Aya raised her head to shoot an arrogant glare at Sighilde. The older woman had a look of disbelief on her aged face.

“For your sake, I hope so.”

Unfortunately, things did not go as hoped the following day. Aya awoke before the sun, greeted by a world of pain.

Just great. She grimaced in her mind. How many days would Sighilde be gone again? Two? Three? Four? She hoped it was the first possibility, because Aya was terrified.

She lay flat on her back in her bed, her brunette hair plastered to her face from the amount of sweat her body produced. It was cold, she was shivering, but her skin was clammy and hot to the touch.

Her lips fell agape, taking deep, strained breaths. She was always so scared when she couldn’t breathe. It felt like a horse was sitting on her chest.

She was alone, with no one to help her. Even better, she forgot to eat dinner last night, too preoccupied with tending to the plants she feared were diseased. It was ironic, really. If only she had given herself that same care.

She could only pray to the Gods that Sighilde forgot her reading glasses at home and decided to turn around and come back. Anything so that Aya wasn’t left to do nothing but lay and wait out the agony.

Djao stumbled into Aya’s room at the crack of dawn, jumping onto the bed. Her condition had remained the same, if not worse. Unfortunately, she was only able to perform a handful of tasks.

Aya’s eyes fluttered open at the tickling sensation of the littílkat sniffing her face.

“Djao…” Aya whispered weakly.

Djao pulled herself onto Aya’s chest, still inspecting her. Though she was not trained to identify illnesses yet (as that would take more time to get her familiar with), littílkats were very intelligent and observational. She knew something was wrong with her master and wanted to help.

A violent fit of coughs shook her off of Aya. She choked out, struggling to regain her breath. Djao only grew restless with anxiety. The little creature jumped to the floor and hopped away, off to do what she was trained for.

Djao spent the entire morning retrieving a variety of foods, half-empty cups of water, and several types of medicinal plants, bringing them back to Aya’s room to try and help her.

She couldn’t understand why Aya wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink, and wouldn’t take the medicine. She was still young, an adolescent, and didn’t understand complex human speech yet. She didn’t understand that Aya felt too nauseous to eat, or didn't have the strength to raise her head to drink from a cup, or that these weren’t even the correct herbs.

Sunlight poured into the room, burning past her eyelids and only setting off a fire pressure in her head. The curtains were left wide open, as usual. Aya enjoyed waking up to warm sunlight on her skin.

In times like these, she hated the sun and wished it would explode and end her suffering. The pain was so great, it felt like several knives were digging into her skull, ripping her open down through her spine.

She couldn't get up to shut the sunlight out herself. Djao didn’t understand what the word ‘curtain’ meant yet. She sobbed helplessly.

She was going to die like this. It was most likely inevitable, given that her symptoms flared up as fast as they did, but the dread of waiting for yet another death was always torturous. On the brightside, this would be over soon.

Hopefully.

Idymo arrived at Sighilde’s cottage in the evening. Tucked under her arm was a woven basket, filled with bundles of various herbs she used to treat her patients.

“What have you tried to treat her symptoms with?” Idymo asked while she fiddled with a sheet of paper.

“Nothing works. There is no point.” Sighilde sighed, defeatedly. Her shoulders drooped.

“I'm aware that her disorder cannot be cured, but maybe the symptoms can be managed. At most, we can try to find a method that can provide some relief from her pain.”

She reminisced about a conversation with Sighilde a few days prior. Idymo was already familiar with the name ‘astral-hybrid incompatibility disorder’, or simply ‘AHID’ for short. She had skimmed across it in a dusty medical textbook back when she was still only a student in Hajnalka. The description was brief, its list of documented cases even shorter, but she knew one thing. It sounded like a living hell. She couldn’t imagine living in a body where your own cells constantly rejected each other, to the point it attacked every cell, every nerve, every organ. Yet, it was Aya’s unfortunate reality.

Sighilde had told Idymo of her planned absence and that it would be alright for her to continue her visits to help Aya with Djao’s training. Aya wouldn't be alone for that entire time either, a bonus as Sighilde considered it.

“Just knock, I told Aya that she is to open the door for you. If she doesn’t, the spare key is under the window sill to your left. It’s in a little gap in the stone, so you’ll have to dig around for it.”

Idymo approached the door. She knocked, and awaited an answer.

No one came to the door.

“Hmm..” Aya was not outside, she knew that. She was a renatus, the ceatures who had the most superior sense of hearing of any species in all of Ingonuudjia. Concentrating, she failed to hear any signs of life from within the house. Her gut twisted.

She set the basket down and crouched, feeling for the hole under the sill that Sighilde informed her of. Her finger dipped and she touched something cool. Found the key.

She pulled it out and unlocked the door, ducking down and stepping inside.

At the sound of someone entering, Djao bolted out and jumped up onto Idymo’s robes. The littílkat did not climb, but rather held on and stared upwards at the renatus.

“Hey there, Djao.” She cooed. Her sudden rush to greet Idymo was unusual for her personality, which didn’t help that sinking feeling in her stomach.

Djao’s ears were angled, but not flat. A sign of unease, anxiety. That was another bad sign.

“What is it, girl? What’s wrong?” Idymo lowered her hands to scoop her up, but Djao jumped off and bounced down the hallway.

Idymo swallowed nervously, following the animal. It appeared as if she was following her training.

“Aya? It’s me, Idymo.” She called out, to not startle her.

Djao was leading Aya towards Idymo’s room, she realised. As she got closer, her superb hearing was able to hear Aya. Wheezing, gasping, like she was struggling to breathe.

Idymo quickened her pace and entered the room, only to be left in shock at the younger woman’s condition. She looked deathly ill.

“Oh, Aya. How long have you been like this?” Idymo dropped the basket and rushed to her side. This was her first encounter with AHID, let alone seeing a full blown episode.

Aya gave her an exhausted glance, sucking in a weak breath. Her lips were cracked, her mouth dry. She was incredibly dehydrated.

“Don’t.. k-know..” She wheezed.

Idymo blinked. She was panicking, something she rarely found herself doing, despite having faced death numerous times. Although this time, it was entirely different. AHID lacked research, severely lacked. Idymo was great at solving problems when it came down to how to help someone, but this time she was at a loss of what to do.

She took a deep breath. It would do Aya no good if Idymo was unable to remain composed.

“What hurts?” She gently pressed.

“Head.” Aya croaked.

Idymo nodded. She stood up and closed the blinds, darkness washing over the room.

“Throat.”

Idymo returned to her side.

“Chest. Can’t —” A fit of coughs interrupted her without warning. “Can’t….brea..the.”

Aya’s breathing was strained and weak. Idymo was sure she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. She gently took Aya’s wrist, turning her arm over and pressed two fingers to her pulse point. Her heart was racing.

Looking over her, she didn’t need to examine further to note the obvious fever. There was also a faint, bluish tone to her extremities, a very concerning symptom.

“Your breathing is terribly weak. I need to treat it immediately.” Idymo began to rummage through her stock of herbs, trying to find something that would be of use.

“Don’t.” Aya choked out.

Idymo continued searching. “I can’t let you suffer like this. I’ll start with making you ginger tea, and then —”

“No.” Aya interrupted. “It’s.. t-too late. I-I can’t keep.. anything d-down..”

Idymo looked up, her eyes wide with fear. She couldn’t let Aya die, not like that.

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I’ll be...o-okay.”

Aya was really struggling to communicate, but she knew Idymo was unfamiliar with her condition. Given her fate was inevitable at this point, she pushed herself to speak.

“I’ll.. come back.. I p…rom..ise..”

Come back..?

The renatus froze, déjà vu washed over her like rain.

She remembered the description of AHID. The disorder was caused by an incompatibility of two types of cells. In Aya’s case, her kibaonu genes were unable to mix with her human genes.

There are several kinds of illnesses and diseases that humans can contract. Kibaonu are unable to contract human diseases, as they are biologically an entirely different group of species.

Aya’s cells are like oil and water, unable to mix. They simply co-exist beside each other, all until she catches the common cold. Kibaonu cells have never had to encounter the common cold, not in a lifetime, nor an existence of several bloodlines. Kibaonu, in this sense, are similar to their stronger Ugwaam relatives. They are faced with a threat, and they will do anything to eradicate it.

A human is no match for the strength of a kibaonu. It is a common occurrence for tissue to be destroyed, organs to fail and shut down, and inevitably, the individual to succumb to the attacks from their own body.

Kibaonu are immortal, they cannot die of a mere human disease. The kibaonu cells will preserve the body, and eventually resuscitate it, now with the diseased parts eradicated and reformed with the stronger cells.

Idymo understood now, though she felt sick at the thought of standing by and watching Aya ‘die’. She was a healer, to let anyone die went against everything she fought for.

She had never felt so useless.

“I’ll make you comfortable, at least.” Idymo softly declared. “I’ll only be gone for a moment.”

She found two cloths, taking them outside to dip them in a cool pond that was behind the house. She returned to Aya, using the first rag to gently wipe away the sweat that stuck to her skin. When she cleaned her up, she placed the other one over her forehead to cool her.

Aya let out a quiet sigh of relief, despite the rapid sensation of her life slipping away.

Idymo could only wait and watch in silence, hoping that her company would ease Aya’s distress. Though she did not verbalise it, she saw it in the way her features contorted with anxiety, the way her bottom lip trembled, how her eyes, though dull with fatigue, were evidently wide with fear.

The sun was now dipping into the horizon, the sky transitioning into a rich, orange colour.

Aya’s breathing was incredibly slow, Idymo figured it wouldn’t be much longer now.

They had only known each other for a few weeks at this point, unsure if friend or acquaintance was the appropriate term for their relationship. Idymo enjoyed coming over. Despite it being her job to help with Djao’s training, she relished in the serenity of their home. It was quiet, unlike the average day in her life.

Her home was peaceful as well, but it was lonely. There is only so much companionship that animals can provide. Renati were not solitary beings, she craved for real connections.

She hoped she wouldn’t mind, but Idymo traced gentle circles into the back of Aya’s hand. She figured that Aya would have made her protests evident if she disliked Idymo's attempt to soothe her.

I’m here. She said in her mind, not brave enough to speak it aloud.

An hour into dusk, Aya’s breathing ceased. Idymo’s heart instinctively lurched with panic. She reminded herself that this was normal, that everything would be okay. She shifted backwards, yet not putting too much distance between her and Aya. She fiddled with her digits anxiously, waiting for what seemed like days.

Aya revived abruptly with a sharp gasp, her eyes still closed. It had been just under two hours since she quite literally died.

“Aya?” Idymo sprang from her seat, rushing to her side.

Aya hummed in acknowledgement, her body remaining still. Idymo could see she was still weak and unwell, but she didn’t appear to be in pain like she was hours ago.

It was truly incredible, Idymo had just watched her succumb right before her eyes and remain lifeless. Her body never shifted, no signs of decay ever began. She seemed at peace.

They sat in silence for a while longer. Idymo observed Aya’s body, wanting to assure that her health wouldn’t decline for a second time.

Aya opened her eyes after a short while, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Her body was weak, much so after that episode, but the burning, ripping sensation in her chest was no more. Her chest tingled with typical aftershocks of enduring so much pain, but this was euphoric compared to what she endured earlier.

Idymo leaned forward, looking into her green eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Thirsty.” Aya rasped.

Idymo couldn’t help but laugh at Aya’s normal self coming back. She missed that.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Idymo returned with a cup. She placed it down to help prop Aya up against a fluffy pile of pillows.

Aya was unable to feel anything but misery before, but now was much different. She was forever embarrassed that Idymo had to see her in such a state. She felt even more guilty that she stayed to care for her. This was the longest that she had ever stayed over.

She was so gentle with her. Aya melted under the softness of her hands, though she’d never admit that she enjoyed her attentiveness.

While she gingerly sipped down the water, Idymo brushed away Aya’s bangs to press the back of her hand to her forehead.

Aya hoped her temperature would cover up as an excuse as to why her cheeks had flushed into a deep shade of red.

“Your temperature is already much better.” Idymo breathed out a sigh of relief, retracting her hand. "You're improving quickly."

“Told you.” Aya handed the cup over, having had her fill. She sank down into the bed.

Idymo smiled at her remark. “You should drink more. You’re very dehydrated.”

“Later.” She mumbled. “Still feel sick.” Aya added when Idymo gave her that look.

“Are you in pain?” Idymo asked.

“Nothing like before. After um.. that happens, it’s typically okay from now on.”

“Typically?” Idymo reiterated.

“Unless I get sick again, but I don’t think you can get me sick, so it's okay.”

“I’ll stay until whenever Sighilde returns.”

“You don't have to.”

“I’m not leaving you alone, not after I just witnessed you pass away in front of me. How long did that episode last?”

Aya hesitated to answer, not wanting to give Idymo even more reason to stay over for the next few days. She caved too quickly for her liking, uncomfortable with the lack of resistance she had when Idymo all but pouted with worry.

“Before dawn.” Aya yawned. Exhaustion was really hitting her hard.

“I’m sure you haven’t eaten, either. I’m glad that I don’t have to go into Samnathrum for the next few days.”

Aya weakly shook her head. “I’ll be okay by tomorrow. I can’t leave the garden —”

“You won’t be touching it. I’ll take care of that for you, alright?”

Aya’s face twisted with worry. She was protective of her plants, that was her only pride and joy in life. The thought of someone else touching them, and possibly damaging them made her panic.

“I’ll water them in a bit so you don’t have to worry about that. Tomorrow after you get a night’s rest, you can tell me how to take care of it. Okay?” Idymo offered. "Maybe if you're well enough, I'll let you come outside and supervise me."

Aya appreciated her compromise. Though she would rather do it herself, her feathers deflated at the thought of having a day to relax. "Okay.”

She rose, grabbing the soiled cloths and heading towards the doorway to dispose of them.

“Wait, Idymo!”

Idymo paused in her tracks, turning back to look at Aya.

"Um, thank you... thank you for staying."

Idymo said nothing, but gave a warm smile. There was that funny feeling in her gut again, though her health's condition wasn't the culprit this time.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to get a little personal, would it?

#overwhelve oc #original character #writing #oc writing #oc fic #oc fiction

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cetaitlaverite · 5 months ago

Text

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

the masterlist is here <3

39. Their Fair Share

April brought with it many changes; Freddie returning to Thorpe Abbotts a married woman, Rosie re-upping to fly mercy missions, a sudden but not at all unwelcome change in weather from the biting chill of winter to the timid warmth of spring.

April also brought Buck Cleven back to Thorpe Abbotts, the first face of the old guys any of them had seen since October 1943. He spoke about his escape from the prisoner of war camp, how it had been Bucky’s plan but he’d been caught and forced to stay behind. Something about that place haunted Buck, Freddie could tell, and leaving his best friend behind in it had nearly broken something in him.

But he was alive. Skinny and exhausted, broken down by his odyssey but alive and kicking and mustering smiles when anyone tried to joke with him.

“Look at you,” Buck said when Freddie first greeted him. It was entirely a coincidence that she happened upon him while she was leaving her office to go and find Jack while Buck was standing outside of air exec waiting for a meeting with Colonel Bennett.

Freddie laughed, doing a twirl for him and pointing out her insignia. “I outrank you now, Major.”

“That you do, ma’am,” Buck replied, grinning as he accepted her hug. “Heard you’re a married woman now, too. Rosie sweep you off your feet?”

“Absolutely he did,” Freddie confirmed, stepping back from their hug and showing off her wedding rings. “We only tied the knot in February and we’re still yet to go on a honeymoon. We were thinking of having another ceremony too, once the war’s over, since the first was so last minute. I was thinking maybe you and your sweetheart might like to come. I’d love to meet her.”

Buck smiled softly, warmly, and nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, Marge and I will be there. Of course we will.”

Freddie smiled back at him. “Good. That makes me happy.” She reached out to squeeze his shoulder before stepping away. “I’m really glad to see you, Buck. Glad to have you back.”

“Yeah,” Buck replied, nodding at her. “Glad to see you too, Freddie. Glad to be back.”

It wasn’t until that evening that Buck was relieved from duty recounting everything he could remember about the stalag he’d come from and his escape, and so it wasn’t until that evening that he could reunite with Meatball.

Freddie and Rosie walked Meatball into the officers’ club, stopping in the doorway to search for their old friend and smiling when they spotted him.

The instant Buck noticed Meatball in the doorway with them, he grinned widely and jumped to his feet.

Freddie laughed, crouching to unclip Meatball’s lead and pointing in Buck’s direction as he approached. “Look, buddy,” she said, stroking over Meatball’s head, “that’s your friend! Remember him?”

Buck crouched in front of Meatball, holding out his hand for Meatball to smell. And as he smelled it, the husky’s head tilted to one side curiously, and they all laughed when they witnessed the instant he recognised Buck.

Suddenly, all the music and chatter in the room was drowned beneath a cacophony of barking and howling. Meatball jumped all over Buck, covering him in kisses, while Freddie and Rosie stood back and laughed.

“Imagine when Benny gets back,” Freddie said to Rosie as they watched on with matching smiles. “He’ll be so excited he’ll probably pass out.”

“Or throw up,” Rosie countered, “if he’s anything like his mom.”

Freddie scoffed, nudging him lightly with her elbow and rolling her eyes. “I don’t throw up when I’m excited. You would have been covered in my vomit at the altar if I did.”

Rosie tipped his head back and laughed loudly while Freddie grinned. From where they’d been watching the scene by the bar, Jem and Millie approached with Croz.

“What a touching reunion,” Jem remarked, thrusting her thumb in the direction of Buck and Meatball on the floor. Meatball had yet to falter in his excitement, still bouncing and running around Buck, jumping up at him and licking every inch of his face he could reach.

Freddie grinned. “I dread to think what Mils and Brady will do when he gets back.”

“The feral animals will probably strip off their clothes and start fu-”

“Jem!” Millie cut across her with a sharp gasp.

Freddie laughed. “Not so funny when it’s you on the receiving end of a conversation about your sex life, is it, Mils?”

Millie cut her eyes at her. “Don’t start. You were such an innocent little flower when Buck last saw you, don’t make me ruin his mental image of you the way it’s been ruined for everyone else.”

From the floor, Buck chuckled. “Spend a year and a half in a stalag and all of a sudden everything’s changed.”

Freddie grinned at him. “Right then. Buck, is Meatball okay to stay with you? I need a drink if we’re all going to be carrying on like this.”

“Sure,” Buck agreed, “I got him.”

Rosie took everyone’s drink order and led Freddie to the bar with a hand on the small of her back. Once there, Freddie greeted the barman, Atley, warmly and handed over Meatball’s water bowl for him to fill up, then promptly wrapped both of her arms around Rosie’s waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I love you,” she said in a sing-song.

Rosie grinned down at her, not that she could see it, and wrapped his arms around her in turn. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

Freddie smiled to herself. “I feel so happy right now, not sure why. It just feels like we’re so close to the end. Do you think so, too?”

Rosie hummed his affirmative. “Yeah. Especially with Major Cleven back. The end feels so close.”

Freddie hid a smile in his chest. “You’re a major now too, darling. You can just call him Buck.”

“I don’t know him as well as you do,” Rosie argued.

Tilting her head back to look up into his face, Freddie grinned. “You are too cute. How did I end up with the cutest husband in the whole world?” She puckered her lips for a kiss, which he gladly gave her, and grinned at him again when he pulled back, because he really was the sweetest thing she’d ever laid her eyes on.

Rosie was blushing. “I’d prefer if you didn’t call me cute when all the guys are around, Fred.”

Freddie smirked, quirking a brow. “Oh? What should I call you instead, oh big, brave, manly husband of mine?”

Rosie snorted. “That works.”

Freddie rolled her eyes and wordlessly begged another kiss, just before Atley set down their drinks and returned Meatball’s water bowl now filled with water.

“Wonderful!” Freddie cheered. “Thank you, Atley. You’re my favourite barman.”

Atley laughed with a jovial roll of his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You say that to all the barmen who fill up your dog’s bowl for free.”

Freddie winked at him. “They wouldn’t fill it up for me if I didn’t.”

Freddie took her drink and the water bowl while Rosie took all of the other drinks over to the table Buck had been sitting at when they’d come in. And Meatball, so excited to have one of his old friends back, climbed up onto Buck’s lap as soon as he sat back down, lying across Buck’s thighs like his own personal, living blanket.

Freddie was grinning as she watched them.

Buck just laughed. “Missed you too, Meatball,” he said, running his hands up and down Meatball’s back.

“I’m going to have a hard time prying him off of you to get him to go to bed tonight,” Freddie mused, lifting her glass to sip her lemonade around her amused smile.

Buck shared her smile. “Y’know, Benny was real glad when we found out you were looking after Meatball for him.” His amused smile turned soft as he looked down at the dog in his lap. “Said he could relax a little ‘cause he knew you’d take good care of him.”

Freddie shrugged, breathing a laugh. “He’s a pleasure to babysit, really. I’ll find it hard to say goodbye to him when Benny gets back.”

Buck smiled at her but didn’t say anything, turning his attention to the room at large. Freddie knew he must have been taking in all the many unfamiliar faces. To Freddie, this place still belonged to the old guys, Buck and Bucky and the first wave of American airmen who had invaded Thorpe Abbotts, and everyone who had come and made a home here since was just a guest. To all the new guys, though, Buck was a name they’d heard once and a face they didn’t recognise. A cautionary tale, perhaps, about what happened if you went down and got caught. Freddie resented the thought that time had moved on before her eyes without her noticing; she didn’t know many of the new guys herself, not really. She herself had always remained in the version of Thorpe Abbotts which had existed when Rosie had first arrived, when Buck and Bucky were in charge and she was still just a wireless operator.

“It’s so strange,” she said softly, turning to speak only to Rosie, “thinking about how much has changed throughout the war. I kind of keep thinking that when the war ends I’ll go back to being nineteen and pick up right where I left off, but I won’t.”

“Would you want to?” Rosie asked equally as quietly.

Freddie’s eyes passed over his face, her most favourite face in the world, and moved onto Millie and Jem, laughing in the two chairs beside him, and to Meatball, resting on Buck’s lap. “No,” she said decisively, without a doubt in her mind. “No, I wouldn’t want to go back at all. I’d do it all over again, in fact, if it meant I got to keep you.”

Freddie knew Rosie understood the significance of what she was saying. She’d lose Daniel again to keep Rosie. She would always love Daniel but this was where she belonged, she knew it now with an unwavering certainty.

Early April turned to late April. May was just around the corner. Flowers were blooming in the fields around the airfield and Freddie dragged Rosie and Meatball with her on many an occasion to go and look at them.

Freddie had been out on one more mercy mission with Rosie and, satisfied with the flak truce, had henceforth let him fly many. It was good work, she knew, and now she’d gotten a taste of flying she could understand why airmen were so crazy about being in the air.

Buck, once settled, also started to fly these humanitarian aid missions, often with Rosie as his co-pilot and Croz as his navigator. Freddie had grinned as she’d watched them take off that morning; it felt to her like the old days, before Buck had gone down and Croz had become air exec, before she’d been promoted into leading Operation Corona. Those old days felt golden to her now, tinted with a rosy hue in her memory. She hadn’t truly realised at the time how much she’d miss them until it was all taken away in Münster.

No one was out bombing while Rosie, Buck, and Croz were on their mercy mission today, so Freddie was off the hook where work was concerned. Operation Corona was slowing down now that bombing missions on the continent in general were slowing down. The end of the war was so close she could almost taste it, and it tasted unbearably sweet - but just a little bit sour, too, when she thought about how peacetime would mean Thorpe Abbotts shutting down, all the planes leaving and all the people with them. Millie would be five hours away when they moved to New York, Jem would likely still be in England, and Freddie still hadn’t found the right moment to talk to her parents about moving to New York City with her.

She was quiet as she thought about all this, and Millie and Jem were so deep in debate about whether Amy and Douglass had the hots for each other they didn’t really notice.

Freddie had her eyebrows furrowed, one hand pulling at her bottom lip while the other combed rhythmically through Meatball’s fur as he rested his head in her lap. She had her eyes set on the gate to Thorpe Abbotts and wondered whether the last time that gate closed might be anytime soon. The grass beneath her crossed legs was itchy and the sun was warm on her skin. She wondered whether the war would last another Christmas or whether she’d be in America by then.

The orderly manning the gate climbed down from his perch in the gatehouse and scrambled to pull open the gate.

Freddie sat up straighter, her hand falling from her lip to her lap as she wondered who was coming in. On an entirely unremarkable Thursday afternoon such as this one she was sure they weren’t expecting any guests.

Jeep after jeep, full to bursting with men, barrelled through the gate. Those seated in the backs of the jeeps rose up as high as they could and lifted their arms into the air, cheering.

Freddie shot a glance at Millie and Jem and found that the commotion had also drawn their attention, though they too had no idea what to make of it. For Meatball’s part, his years of living on an active airfield had immunised him to the sound of chaos; he didn’t bother to lift his head from Freddie’s lap.

The jeeps didn’t stop at the gate but kept going, and as they neared Millie gasped. She rocketed to her feet, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sun so she could get a better look, then set off at a sprint towards them. “John!”

“John?” Jem asked, wide-eyed and utterly shocked. She and Freddie both hurried to their feet, setting off after Millie but slower, warier.

“Millie!” a male voice from the jeeps was shouting back.

Freddie’s eyes shot to Jem. “No,” she said, a slow grin spreading across her face.

“John!” Millie kept shouting.

John Brady all but launched himself out of the back seat of his jeep, too eager to wait for the driver to stop, and only faltered in his step a little bit as he caught his balance and started forward. He met Millie halfway, crushing her to him in his arms and catching her lips in an immediate kiss, before he lifted her up and twirled her in a circle and hugged her fiercely again.

Freddie could tell they were both crying, much as Brady probably would have liked to hide it from the other men. So she and Jem gave them their privacy, exchanging a smile as Millie and Brady cupped each other’s cheeks in their hands and pressed their foreheads together, ensuring there wasn’t an inch of space between them.

Meatball started barking and Freddie knew instantly who he’d spotted. “Where is he, buddy?” she asked, slackening her hold on his lead to let him lead her. “Go find your dad!”

Meatball set off at a run which was too fast for Freddie to keep up with but she couldn’t let him go while the jeeps were still driving on the path. But Benny, noticing the scene, was quick to follow in Brady’s footsteps and forcefully disembarked his jeep.

Freddie let Meatball go so he could run to his owner unrestrained.

There were tears in Freddie’s eyes as she stood back with Jem and watched as Benny and Meatball reunited. Meatball was howling, bouncing around Benny and jumping up at him, running in circles around him where he was crouched in the grass.

Benny reached for Meatball as much as he could while he was moving so much and shared a wide grin and a laugh with Freddie above Meatball’s head.

“He’s really missed you,” Freddie said. She hastily swiped a thumb under her eye to catch the solitary tear which slipped out as she approached.

Benny grinned and pressed a firm kiss to the top of Meatball’s head, then scooped him up into his arms to hold him to his chest.

The jeeps had likely been headed for the nissen huts so the men could become reacquainted with their footlockers, but after two of their number had prematurely disembarked the drivers slowed to a stop.

Man after man came pouring across the grass toward them, faces Freddie hadn’t seen in years. She smiled and laughed and gave out many hugs, and when she saw Bucky Egan standing to one side waiting to greet her, a wave of inexplicable tears came streaming down her cheeks and she threw herself at him at once.

“If I’d known this is what it would’ve taken to get you to fall into my arms I woulda become a POW much sooner, Fred,” he teased, wrapping his arms firmly around her. She could hear his smile in his voice.

“Hush, you,” Freddie chided him teasingly. “I’m a married woman now and my husband won’t tolerate your flirting, Major Egan.”

“What?!” Bucky exclaimed, pushing away from her and checking her left hand. “You’re married?! To Rosie?!” Freddie supposed Millie’s letter to Brady hadn’t arrived in time.

“To Rosie,” Freddie confirmed, grinning. “We tied the knot in February after his plane went down and I thought he was dead for three weeks.” Bucky pulled a face and Freddie laughed. “It was a bit last minute but I wouldn’t change any of it. And you are cordially invited to our formal ceremony whenever the war ends, should you so wish to attend.”

“As a matter of fact I do wish to attend,” Bucky confirmed with a grin.

Freddie laughed. “Good.”

Preliminary introductions over, the men filed into their previous huts, all long since taken over by new airmen, and retrieved their footlockers and spent a long while in the shower. They headed to the mess hall and ate their body weight in food and, when Freddie told Bucky where Buck was, she led him to the tower and into the radio room so he could be the first to greet him over the radio when his plane returned.

It was impossible to ignore how everything felt like it was ending now that all the old guys were back. Freddie didn’t want to get her hopes up just to have them dashed with a fresh wave of German counteroffensive, but it really did seem as though they were on their last legs. With prisoner of war camps being liberated, Allied territory being gained, and humanitarian missions being flown, it seemed like their war was nearly over.

Freddie stood back with a smile as she listened to Bucky greet his old friend over the radio. One day, she thought, all of this would be such a distant memory. She hoped she and Rosie would have children and only talk about the war when they talked about their friends or the happy memories they had of their time in the service. She hoped the war would be behind them soon enough, and that they’d all get their fair share of hard-earned peace.

#watm #my writing #masters of the air #masters of the air x oc #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction #hbo war #hbo war x oc #rosie rosenthal #robert rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #rosie rosenthal fanfic #rosie rosenthal fanfiction #rosie rosenthal x reader

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