#annie x john

[devotedgossamerreader]

DOCTOR JOHN DUNSTON AND LEO ANNIE PEDERSON ❤️❤️❤️

[cod-dump]

Laswell and her wife + PriceNikGraves on a double date, shenanigans ensue

Laswell and Price agreeing to a double date only to immediately regret it because their partners get along a little too well. It didn't feel like a date more they were two extra wheels to a tricycle.

Annie and Graves just click immediately upon meeting (ignoring everything Laswell had told her about the man) and she was already besties with Nik before that. Laswell wanted to spend time with her friends (minus Graves) and her wife but now it just feels like it's just her and Price.

Price is just exhausted by southern American slang not even thirty minutes into the date and just zones out for the rest of it. Nik is having the best time and Graves loves Annie immediately.

Laswell and Price both agree to try to avoid any more potential double dates and just spend their own respective time with their partners. They both agree it's much more enjoyable that way.

[c3berus]

Kia ora! Are you able to write about 141 having tall!reader bf. What was their initial reaction when they first met Him? Besides, it’s quite hard to find someone when you’re too tall😔😔.

(I’m 6’5🥲. sorry if some of the words don’t make sense, had to just guess some the words, English ain’t my first language)

Can I be 🫀anon?

OF COURSE! WELCOME 🫀ANON. TALL PEOPLE UNITE!

they met you when you all had to work together to catch some terrorist. they all sat around the table, silently chatting with each other at a meeting waiting to meet you. and when you walked in lets say you were definitely a nice surprise. From the way you slightly had to tilt your head to enter the room to in johnnys words you walked like your dick hurt to carry.

they were immediately interested in you.

simon was particularly bothered by it but not mad at it. he liked how you looked down and titled your head at any words he spoke. or when you would brush your hands over his waist to get by him. it left him wanting you more.

kyle insisted you worked out with him so he could yander at your muscles. he’d ask if you could workout with him as an added weight which eventually would turn into you fucking him into the sparing mat, roughly pushing his head into the sparring mat with the sounds of your dick bullying into him.

johnny wasn’t even the tiniest bit ashamed of the way he’d feel you up and stare you down. he’d make comments on how you hand to be some type of giant, or how you shouldve went to wrestling. if you’re above him in rank, he’d come into your office and situate himself on your lap despite your series of ‘not now’s’ and ‘im busy’s’ and put your hand into his pants letting you feel how riled up and leaky he was for you and he whined into your ear about how he wanted you to have him.

and price, the ever so sweet price, he’d try to be respectful he’d greet you with coffee or tea, he’d cook you dinner on base and let you sit in his office as you worked on reports but nothing up above would help him when he trailed his eyes to your dick in the joined base showers. he didn’t even think he’d need any help the way you were fucking the pleas out of him like you were his god.

and let you have a particularly raspy and deep voice?? they’re squirming in their chairs.

if you harbored a bit of broken English?? they didn’t mind, in fact simon often teased you about it like the little shit show he was. you’d often bite back saying something about brits back.

BUT what really sealed the deal for them was how protected and secure you made them feel.

you remembered when ghost ordered a recruit to explain why he was late and the recruit gave some half assed excuse why, before marching off like a little shit and giggling with his lads about why he was actually late. you overheard it was because he was being a creep trying to hit on the female recruits. they didn’t notice that you had heard their entire conversation. until it was time to dismiss and you called him back, forcing him to push his body to the absolute limit. that soon earned him the call sign mute because everytime you were present he wouldn’t utter a single word.

[fleshthatfalls]

this is eventually what'll happen in a fic with my supe oc, guaranteed xoxo

[wexhappyxfew]

24. whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

For Annie and Brady please!!! I adore them and your writing!

HI ANON!!!! thank you so much for stopping by the askbox!! greatly appreciated, especially when it is annie and brady!! :) these two have my heart and deserve all the best things life has to offer. please enjoy this take on the prompt and these two just being so soft on each other (and brady well....brady being BOLD). lmao! ENJOYYYY!!! thank you for all the love on them! :D

you in my A-2

(a/n): partially inspired by the prompt, partially by an ask i got earlier. just....annie x brady getting more and more comfortable and slowly realizing things about this war that they didn't realize earlier. them. them them them. i need them to be the happiest they can be when this is all done :')

Ever since that first night in the Stalag that she'd crawled into the bunk with Brady, it had become a nightly thing that she'd evacuate by the time morning came, but yearned for with each passing day.

Where it was just the two of them, side by side, curled into one another's bodies, their eyes the only innocent thing held between one another in this horrid place.

Sometimes they'd talk, whispering quietly between another about random things, about some of the sad things of the world, about their lives back home that would be entirely different if they ever got out of here. Sometimes they'd just stare at each other, with what little light there was from the moon outside or the lights from the guard huts outside.

And by that point, Brady would usually thread his fingers into her somewhat tangled hair and she'd apologize for something she could hardly control and he'd whisper all the sweet things that it was fine, he just wanted to be there with her. And that usually lent to her fingertips brushing against his stubbled cheeks, her pointer finger tracing all those stress lines that popped out when it was just them, or she'd let her hands dip into his hair and brush it back in a calming motion that usually got him right to sleep.

And so by morning, when she was back in her bunk, curled in her blanket, looking across the way as people would start moving about, waking up, rubbing their eyes, yawning and stretching, she'd meet Brady's gaze from across the room and they'd share that silent look that meant more than whatever words either of them would manage to find.

It never went past that - the longing looks, the occasional forehead kiss. Maybe they were both scared to go over that line they'd drawn. That maybe if there was anything more, they'd lose it just as quick.

As Annie slid out of her bunk and crossed the small room towards where Brady was, she couldn't help but feel her heart bit a little faster just at the sight of him asleep there - his face scrunched up in a way that made her heart ache. The visible stress on his face even in his sleep made her want to pull him right into her arms and tell him over and over that everything would be okay, that they'd make it out, that she was okay beyond anything. Because he cared so much, that he stopped taking care of himself sometimes. And she always would pick up what pieces were lost and stitch them back together again and hold him in the darkness.

As she approached, she softly bit back her lip and reached out to prod him awake, which always made her feel guilty for doing such a thing, but he welcomed it and told her it was fine, despite her want to make sure he got a full nights sleep. Brady woke with a shake awake and turned to look towards her and smiled softly in the darkness.

"Hey," he whispered, before opening up the blanket, "hop in." Annie watched him for a moment, before her cheeks warmed - they always did when he looked at her like that - and she slid in beside him and let him engulf her in a mixture of his arms and blanket.

The second she felt her body pressed against his in the cocoon of blankets and warmth, her worries were stripped away, as they normally always were. She curled herself against the heat from his neck, her body begging for some sort of comfort in all of this, as he pressed a kiss against her temple, something he'd grown more akin to recently it seemed. It's not that they didn't want people to see them, it was more of the fact that they finally were back with each other and trying to keep things like they had been back at Thorpe Abbotts - friendly, maybe dancing the line of flirting but not nothing more. But here at the Stalag, they were anything but. And they both seemed to recognize that.

"You doing okay?" he whispered softly against her ear as she cuddled further into him the best she could and sighed, "That cold finally going away?" She nodded against him.

"Yeah," she whispered, "just a little bit of a stuffy nose, but can't complain. How about you?" She leaned back from him, from his warmth and smiled at him as she leaned a hand up against her head. Reaching forward, she ran her hands through his hair and watched a sense of calm wash over his form for a minute as she did so. And it did settle Annie's own nerves and worry for Brady that she constantly endured day in and day out. She always worried about him and seemed, but it was always mutual for the two of them.

"Okay," he said quietly, before the corner of his lip turned upward, "better now that you're here, I gotta admit." Her cheeks warmed and she shook her head before holding his gaze in her own.

"You're too sweet on me, John Brady." she whispered softly to him, cupping his cheek for a minute and brushing her thumb across his cheek as she grinned at him with her rosy cheeks. Brady watched her, that slightly far-off look in his eyes, a hint of a smile. He grinned.

"You deserve it, Annie," he whispered back to her, reaching up his own hand and brushing his fingers against her warm cheek and grinning, "that and you blush red like a tomato."

"You a fan of that?" she whispered back quickly with a laugh and she watched him bit his lip and smirk.

"I'd say I'm a big fan of that," he whispered back, "'specially when you look like this." Annie watched him - she could probably be covered in mud and he'd be staring at the way he currently was. And now, stuck in a Stalag camp, looking slightly malnourished and sickly, with slightly matted hair and sunken in eyes and he still looked at her like that and said things like that.

"I could say much of the same," she whispered back to him, turning her head slightly to nuzzle into his hand against her cheek, "you look cute when you blush." John Brady did in fact blush when she said that, even though she couldn't even really see much of his face in that darkness of the room. She grinned and then leaned forward and cuddled into his neck again, Brady chuckling the slightest bit as he curled into her as well.

"You're so warm." Annie whispered against his neck as the rumble from his throat echoed in her ear and made her grin like a loon, "You're like a personal blanket." That got him to chuckle quietly again as her lips danced near her ear and she could practically hear each and every breath that left his lips - a mixture of knowing he was alive and right there next to her - and even more so; knowing that all they were in that moment right now were two people dying for an ounce of comfort in this world.

"Consider me your personal blanket," he whispered back as his lips continued to ghost over her ears, "I was thinking….." Annie listened to him trail off and gulped for a moment as his breath trembled and his heart pounded.

"I'd give anything if it was me and you back at Thorpe Abbotts, just you in my A-2 jacket and nothing else." he whispered and her body grew hot - whether from his soft, husky voice in her ear or the way his hands had found their way underneath her clothes, fingertips grazing her bare back, traversing her battered and hot skin, her thoughts were suddenly in a blunder and all she could think about well was….that. Annie pulled back from her spot curled against his neck and met his gaze.

"Just your A-2?" she whispered softly, looking at him shyly from underneath her eyelashes, a small smile growing on her face as a look dawned on his features that almost seemed like he hadn't meant to let that slip from his lips, but it had, "What does that mean for you?" Brady watched her, the look in his eyes matching the touch of his fingertips on her skin and she suddenly couldn't focus on anything else but that gentle touch of his fingertips. He leaned closer and brushed his lips against her forehead again with that tender touch.

"You can have me anyway you want me." he whispered against her forehead and her eyes instinctively shut as he pressed up against her and she overwhelmed with him. His presence, his touch, the way he held her so gently and close to him, but with a level of protectiveness and care that made her know that this was safe, that she was safe, just like this.

Annie reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, slowly running her fingers up into his hair as his head fell to the inside of her neck and he pulled her close, like a warm, tender hug that you never wanted to pull away from. Gleefully his hands raced along her bare back as she curled against him, feeling the way his hands explored underneath her coat and wooly top, dancing across her skin and making her feel things she hadn't quite felt in some time.

"Can I tell you something?" Annie whispered softly to him, rubbing slowly again through his hair as he sighed against her.

"What is it?" Annie listened to his heartbeat for a moment before blinking.

"This is the safest I've felt in years." And to even say a statement like that, in a place like this was ironic even in it of itself. She hadn't even felt the safest at home, a place that was supposed to be safe. No, no, she felt safest in the arms and embrace of someone she had only met a couple of months ago and had proved himself to be more of a home to her beyond anything.

"With me?" Annie nodded against him.

"Right here." she whispered back to him, "You and me." His grip didn't loosen, he only held her tighter and it seemed in that moment, the realization and the weight of whatever was going on between them seemed to hit. Her truth spilling from her lips quietly into his body, his grip tightening, their bodies pressed against one another in a way that should've felt foreign. Brady seemed to want to say something, she could tell, but when he stayed quiet and instead pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, she didn't question it. Because whatever they had here was okay for right now.

"I feel safe with you too, Annie." he whispered back and Annie was convinced even she wasn't so comfy, that she wasn't sure what she would've done if they'd been looking right at each other, inches apart. For now, she cuddled closer to him, enjoying his hands on her stomach and his lips near her ear, their soft breaths, mixing into deep slumber as they laid in each other's embraces until the world went quiet.

[cameron-s-gaskins]

Bit of an update on chapter 2 of ‘Sam Tyler Doesn’t Exist,’ unfortunately I’m running a bit behind, and I don’t think it’s going to be done when I wanted it to be :( A lot of real life stuff going on, but I should have some more time to work on this soon. Don’t worry, it will get done! The line art is done, with the exception of a few of the more difficult panels, and I’m working on color now. Hopefully just a few more weeks. I added some pages, so it’ll be 14 pages, instead of the originally planned 10.

But here’s the first page as a bit of a teaser preview!

[kaizsche]

in my dreams, you love me back

a starlight/homelander fic set during s3e06, a missing scene (kind of) inspired by red velvet's in my dreams.

warning: delusions. angst. more delusions and more angst.

note: thank you thank you thank you so much to DelightfullySad and @finnismyoriginalsin for being the numero uno numba one enabler. if it weren't for them i wouldn't be here writing for starlander. i owe them my life. period.

crossposted on ao3

He felt the absence of her presence like a phantom limb. 

They have been inseparable the past few weeks. Ashley had coordinated their schedules to accommodate their PR relationship stunt. Where he went, Starlight naturally followed. Silly interviews about their relationship and public appearances were staged. 

He even began to enjoy her company despite her corpse-like enthusiasm. The moment he realized this, he began seeking more of her. His lips lingered long after their perfunctory kisses and his hands, he found, if not at the small of her back, were either wrapped around her waist or intertwined with the softness of her hands.

There was an odd moment of embarrassment but also smug satisfaction when a reporter wrote an article about them. How sweet! Homelander can’t keep his hands off his girl!

John supposed his recent business venture as the new CEO of Vought made him forget about everything else. He was lost in the technicalities and in turn had lost sight of what was important. 

Starlight. Annie.

To make matters worse, Soldier Boy rose from the dead, his appearance a cause for immediate concern. Nobody at this moment would be able to make the connection that Soldier Boy was behind all the explosions but the instant someone did would be ruining everything he worked hard for. 

Before that could happen, he needed to kill Soldier Boy. Fast. 

That was when he remembered. 

“Don’t you think that maybe the best way to handle this is to find him?”

If there was anyone who had information about Soldier Boy, it was Annie. Though, if it had been a day since she hadn’t reported back to him on the matter, maybe she wasn’t better off.

Her apartment was empty, much to his confusion. He was under the impression that she was scheduled to shoot an advertisement for a skincare company and yet her costume sat idling inside her walk-in-closet. 

For a moment, his traitorous mind entertained her connection to Soldier Boy’s reemergence. 

What did you expect, you fucking idiot! A distant voice in his mind screamed for attention. You killed her ex, you think she wouldn’t retaliate?

John whimpered, But she did it first. 

Just shut the fuck up and let me think.

He spied his gleaming reflection off a white telephone and dialed Ashley’s office.

She answered on the first ring. “Starlight? Where the fuck are you—”

“Where’s Starlight?” He questioned, ignoring the sudden spike of her heartbeat at the sound of his voice echoing from Starlight’s telephone. In Starlight’s room.

Ashley answered with a long suffering sigh, “I don’t know, Sir. She just took off without informing anybody.”

He drummed his fingers in silent contemplation, his eyes taken to examining every intimate detail of her room and stopped, glaring lasers at the offending image positioned right next to her bed.

“Alright. Call me when she comes in.”

He left the comfort of her room not before accidentally bumping into her framed picture with Hughie.

You’re acting like a spoiled brat. 

John dismissed the voice as he retreated to his quarters. It continued to whisper nasty things in his ear that Annie was likely an accomplice. He knew how much Butcher and his skinny side-kick Hughie (who happened to be her boyfriend) detested him. John wouldn’t put it past them to summon Soldier Boy in an attempt to level the playing field.

The voice grew louder, snapping insults in his ear about his weakness—that he had too much humanity in him. That it was disgusting and he was absolutely embarrassed to be him. 

He grabbed for the remote blindly in an effort to distract himself. 

“...he children had all signed a letter thanking Starlight and Homelander for their generous donation to the hospital. Starlight met with patients with kidney failure whose lives were dependent on machines. They are on dialysis three times a week for four hours — until they can have a transplant. The process, however, takes years because of a shortage of donors.”

Annie sat cross legged, surrounded by children. She held a children’s book in her hand, reading to them in silly voices. Different camera shots of children bursting into laughter at her antics flashed through the screen, some of it even catching teary-eyed parents. 

The scene changed. Annie was speaking to a kid with sunshine locks and blue eyes. 

“Dominic for instance has been…”

A lump formed in his throat at the sight of her arms around the boy. The screen transitioned to another shot of Annie cradling him in her arms like a babe as she spoke with a doctor. 

What the fuck? Get your shit together, man!

He closed his eyes, lost in the image of Annie and the boy.

John you fucking halfwit! Get back here! I’m not done with you yet! JOHN! YOU MOTHERFUCKER—

He stirred to the faint sensation of being rocked to consciousness. 

“Dad!” The voice screamed. “Wake up! I’m going to be late for my recital!”

John stuffed his head deeper in the sinking softness of his pillows. A hand snatched it out of his chin, his forehead making contact with the headboard in a loud bang.

“Wha…” A woman mumbled beside him. 

“The fuck?!” He exclaimed.

“Mooooommm! Dad said a swear word!” Before he could recover from the damage upon his forehead, there was another blow to his head—too soft to ever bruise him but a hit that took him off guard.

He rose to meet the attacker, the heat of his lasers igniting the low rage simmering within him. 

And stopped at the peculiar yet welcome sight of Annie’s bed head and her legs tangled in cream sheets. A smaller figure dressed in pajamas blocked his figure, meeting his rage with a smug smirk so reminiscent of his own. 

“Pay up!”

He blinked. His throat was so dry he was simply unable to respond. Bewildered, he sought Annie’s help. 

She frowned, but complied nonetheless. Annie laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder, her voice raspy in the quiet morning. 

He was unable to follow their conversation for he had been occupied with the room he seemed to have been sleeping in. It was a modest bedroom, he noted, filled with mementos. There was a compilation of images of his unlived life with Annie.

His temple throbbed with the effort of remembering. A continuous ringing occupied his hearing the more he examined each picture. Memories flickered in his mind like sifting sand through a screen.

What is reality and what is not?

At the center of the images was a baby girl swaddled in his colors. 

Something itched at the back of his head, a memory long forgotten.

“Wendy?” He tested.

His daughter faced him with a beaming smile, her lips thinly pursed like his own but she had her mother’s nose. 

“Are you—”

John tackled the two of them in a tight hug, dotting kisses to whatever part of their faces he could reach. Twin echoes of shrill laughter brightened the morning as they struggled against his sudden display of affection.

“Dad, stop! It tickles!” His daughter cried, short of breath. 

He pulled away, reluctant to not be within her presence but remembered the urgency of the situation. “Chop chop, ladies! We don’t want to be late for the recital!” 

Annie smiled at him with a question in her eyes once Wendy left to go prepare for the big day. 

“What was that all about?” 

He leaned to press a gentle kiss against her lips but moved to her cheek at the last second. Somehow he knew she didn’t like to kiss with morning breath. 

“It was nothing.”

Her soft fingers gripped his wrist, “Are you sure?”

John chewed on the inside of his cheek in contemplation. Should he tell her the truth? That he wasn’t the man she married but a fraud? A momentary lapse of insanity to give peace to his troubled mind? But doing so would be akin to ruining the dream. 

John wasn’t quite sure he was ready to face the world just yet.

And so, he said, “I love you.”

“I love you t—”

His consciousness spoke to him in loud banging noises. Like what he did as a child when he begged for any scrap of attention. 

Welcome back, you fucking pussy. I’ve taken the liberty of actually getting our shit together. This’ll be the last time you do this to me. Do you hear me, you absolute piece of—

John heard her before he saw her. He had locked on to the gentle cadence of her heartbeat drowning all but the sound of her.

Annie sat down, sighed, and cleared her throat.

He moved without knowing, driven by the remains of his dreams, seeking her touch. The comfort, the soothing balm she alone could provide. 

“I’m really glad you’re here.” 

When all he wanted to say was, “I love you.”

He continued, driven by the questioning look in her eyes so reminiscent of the wife in his dreams. 

“I missed you.”

When he wanted to tell her, “In my dreams, you love me back.”

[omg-hellgirl]

it's his song. He's a motherfuckin' starboy ✨

[singeart]

Come let me love you

Come love me again

[terapsina]

Your favorite ship involving that 'Why The Fuck Are They Always Staring Into Each Others Eyes' energy?

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Letters Part One

John Mitchell x Reader

Words: 2927

Summary: More of Mitchell’s past comes back to haunt him when the first person he ever turned shows up at the flat needing his help. On the run from her coven in Ireland, the reader seeks refuge with the one person she ever truly loved in her decades of living. 

Notes: Mitchell, to this day, is one of my favorite characters both in general and to write. I’ve never really done a series for him, so I thought this could be fun. I have no idea how long I want this to be, I’m just going with it. 

-

June 7th 1917

My dearest John,

Another summer day passes without you and the only question anyone can figure to ask me is if I’ve decided upon a date. I’m half tempted to lie and tell them we eloped before you left just to see their reactions. Though, sometimes I wish it was true. 

Look at me, rambling even through paper and pen. I know you’ve always said how fond you are of it, but I always feel so ridiculous. I hope here it can bring a smile to your face. You know how I long to see that smile again. 

I know it won’t be long, my love. I can feel it, though you may not believe in that kind of thing, I do believe there are forces that even you, John Mitchell, cannot understand. Until then, I will keep you with me through your words. 

Write soon, my love. 

Yours completely,

Y/N

-

The ferry horn blared in your ears, ringing around like the thoughts in your mind.

This was a mistake. You didn’t have any other choice. He would turn you away. He owed you. You promised yourself to never think of him again. How could you see him now? 

You didn’t have any other choice. 

This was a mistake. 

Over and over, round and round, the parade of problems just made your hangover worse. 

You should have had more to drink. Maybe then you’d still be drunk for what was going to happen next. It was already going to be a wreck, so what could a little whiskey hurt?

Just the thought of a shot almost made you hurl over the rail. 

You ran a hand down your face and sat on one of the rain-soaked benches. Your phone sat in your lap. It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t call first. There weren’t exactly phone numbers the last time you saw each other. 

So there you were, on the ferry headed toward the last remaining thread of your past. The man you loved. The man who’d left you. 

You hung your head and stuffed your phone in your pocket. “Damn you, John Mitchell.” 

-

It wasn’t fair. One would assume being dead meant being immune to such human problems as a hangover, but that just wasn’t the case. 

Mitchell gripped the coffee mug in his hands, sitting on the sofa with a grimace and a glance at his roommates that said not to bother him. 

They’d never understood it. There was something about this day, some reason that he always drank too much, always insisted on spending it alone. 

Annie, of course, had many theories. Maybe it’s the anniversary of when he was turned? Maybe vampires just have a set day every year when they turn into wankers. Or, her favorite, perhaps today reminded him of some great love that he’d lost. She’d never voiced that last one to either of them so she had no way of knowing how right she was. 

Mitchell stared at the wall. 

He should be over it by now, shouldn’t he? All these years, all of the other horrible things he’d done. But this was the one that would stay with him forever. The one he would never get past. The one that started all of it. 

“So… calling in sick tonight?” George asked, looking at the time. Sure, they had hours before their shift, but he had a feeling his flatmate wouldn’t be moving from that couch anytime soon. 

Mitchell just nodded. 

Annie opened her mouth to suggest making a night of it, but Mitchell stood and hurried up the stairs to avoid any other interactions for the rest of the day. 

He couldn't handle their worried glances or pitying comments. Not today. 

“What’s gotten into him?” Annie asked. “It seems every year, he has to choose today to be his time of the month.” She laughed lightly. George just gave her an exasperated look. “Get it? Because you… and I used to… oh never mind.” 

George had known Mitchell for only slightly longer than Annie had, but he’d made the same observations. And he’d decided it was probably best to let vampire problems remain vampire problems. 

The day passed away, ticking slowly on, and neither of them heard or saw Mitchell at all. 

“Just… keep an eye on him,” George said as he headed for the door.

Annie held up a hand, an idea clear on her face.

George sighed. “Not by poofing into his room.” 

Annie frowned. 

The roommates bid each other goodnight and George cast one last worried glance up the stairs before he left for work. 

He stepped out into the early evening air and took a long, deep breath. He looked up at the moon. Still a good two weeks away from his least favorite day of the month. Things were going to be okay, even if Mitchell was broodier than usual George took a step off of the front stairs and ran right into something. 

Not something. 

Someone. 

Mitchell hadn’t moved in hours, but he couldn’t sleep either. All he could do was sit and stare and smoke and put out cigarettes and smoke some more. The coffee had helped his hangover enough to have him thinking about round two. 

Anything to clear the sound of her voice from his head. 

“Oh, god, I am so-” George stammered, looking down at the woman he’d stumbled into. 

“It’s fine, really.” You backed away, the scent of wolf invading your senses before you could prepare for it. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No, the fault is all mine.” George glanced over you and you tried to imagine what he saw. 

Shaking. 

Tattered. 

Broken. 

What a great first impression. 

“Can I…” His brows drew together in confusion. “Help you?” 

You could smell it from the street. Cigarette smoke wafting down from an open window. Had your heart been beating it would have stopped. Somehow… you just knew. 

“No, I think I’ll find my way, thanks.” You gave the werewolf a smile and watched him head off. 

You breathed in, staring up at that open window. 

There, beneath the smell of the tobacco, was him. 

You could sense him, see him as if he were standing there in front of you. Those dark curls, his hazel eyes that seemed to burn like candlelight. His lips. Lips that used to kiss you goodnight. That smiled whenever he saw you. 

You doubted you’d receive such a warm greeting now considering how you left things. Or rather, how he left. 

Rock music played into the street. It was odd, hearing him listen to modern music. It reminded you of how much of your lives you’d spent apart now. 

You knocked.

“Good lord, George, forget something alr- oh-” A pretty woman opened the door, mouth falling open when she saw you. “Hello. Sorry, I thought you were my flatmate.” 

“Hi,” you smiled, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. But as you tried to form your next words, it felt like you had cotton in your mouth. Just the idea of saying his name…

“You alright dear?” She asked. She pushed the door open further. “Why don’t you come inside, you look like-”

“I’ve seen a ghost?” You blurted. That’s what she was, you realized as you took in that faint glow of death around her. 

She blinked, looking more concerned. 

You continued before she could start something else. “Does John Mitchell live here?” 

“Um, yeah-” Her brows drew together in confusion. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

“How rude of me,” you exclaimed, plastering a charming smile on your face. “John and I go way back. I rang him earlier, he knows I’m here.”

Annie seemed a little more at ease with your sunny demeanor. 

“Let me go get him,” she said. “You can come in and wait if you’d like?”

You stepped over the threshold, the invisible barrier falling. 

“Thank you.” 

She turned away and started up the stairs. 

You took a deep breath. 

This was a mistake. 

You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stand there, in his living room, like you really were just some old acquaintance. 

You stepped back into the dark and let your gaze go back to the window. 

Annie knocked lightly and opened the door. 

Mitchell was laid out on his bed, exhausted from his day at work, with a book in his hands. He looked up with a rather annoyed expression. 

“There’s a woman here for you,” Annie said. She shrugged. “Irish, I think. Says she’s an old friend of yours, which I’m assuming means she’s a vampire.” Realization washes over her face and Annie bites her lip. “Oh, that means I shouldn’t have invited her in.”

Mitchell scrambled out of bed. 

 “I’m still not used to that, you know,” Annie defended, hurrying after him as he ran down the stairs.

Both paused, finding the front door open and the living room empty. 

“I swear, she was just here,” Annie said. 

The pieces started to come together in Mitchell’s mind. 

It couldn’t be. 

“Just,” he let out a heavy sigh, “be more careful about who you let in.”

“What are they going to do, kill me?” 

Mitchell rolled his eyes and returned to his room. His mind was reeling with too many thoughts for him to notice that, when he walked in, he wasn’t alone. Mitchell froze as the door clicked behind him. 

“Hello, John.” 

It wasn’t possible. That voice. Those eyes. You sat on the edge of his bed and were glad. If you were standing, you might have collapsed under his gaze. 

“Y/N,” Mitchell gasped. He steadied himself against the door. 

Those eyes.

Eyes he’d dreamt of for decades. The ones he could never get out of his head. 

“Sorry for the dramatics. I thought you might not have wanted this conversation to happen in front of your… friend.” You stood, trying to force yourself to stay calm. You were here for a reason. 

He straightened, letting whatever frustration and anger he could muster take over. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I-” You reached up as if trying to see if he was really there. If he was real. But when you saw your shaking hand, you stuffed it in your jacket pocket. “I need your help, John.” 

“You can’t be serious,” he scoffed. “It’s been-”

“I know how long it’s been,” you snapped, taking a step toward him. “Do you think I would be here if it wasn’t important?” 

“I can’t imagine what would bring you here at all.” 

You lowered your gaze to the floor and took a breath. “I heard about Herrick.”

Mitchell crossed his arms. “And you decided to pop by? Share your condolences.”

“Of course not. You know how much I hated…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “My point is, I'm not the only one who has heard, John.”

“I go by Mitchell now.”

“That would be a tad confusing for me, don’t you think?” You were letting your emotions get the better of you. “Look, I’m not here to hash out old problems. I’m here because you’re the only one who can help me, John-” You winced. “Mitchell.” 

There’s a tremor to your voice, one that always used to send protective shocks through his limbs. It still did. You were scared and it made his cold exterior melt. 

Mitchell sighed. “What happened?” 

The blood. The fire. Your cohort's bodies turned to ash and whisked away into the night. 

“I think I need a drink.” 

Mitchell frowned. 

You rolled your eyes. “Christ, I’m talking about whiskey, Mitchell. Not a waitress.”

“So you don’t…”

“I’m not perfect, I’ve had a few slips over the decades but,” you blew out a sigh, “I’m clean. For a while now.” 

He nodded. Something flashed in his gaze. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought it was admiration. The way he used to look at you…

“I’ve been trying, too,” he said. “Get clean, I mean.”

“I’m sure Herrick took that well.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” His ferocity returned. “Herrick’s dead. Everything can go back to normal now.”

“My God, do you hear yourself?” You scoffed. “Everything can go back to normal. What is normal?”

“I have a life now, Y/N. One away from the shadows and the,” he sucked in a breath, “the blood.” He gave you a long, hard stare. “I won’t let anything mess that up again.”

“They’re going to kill me, John,” you finally blurted. “And for the first time in a long time, I am right scared.” The wavering in your voice made it hard to speak but you forced yourself to remain steady. You felt pathetic enough begging for his help. 

“Who?” Mitchell growled. He clenched his fists at his sides. 

“The coven I’ve spent the past decade with.” The name tasted foul on your tongue like you were still breathing in the ashes of your home. “Their leader- Lizzy Kain.” 

Mitchell’s face shifted again. 

“You pissed off the Kains?” He said. His voice was so calm it scared you more than the hoard of angry Irish vampires on your tail. 

You swallowed. 

Mitchell opened his door and motioned for you to follow. 

“I think I’ll get us that drink now.”

-

Y/N,

Things are getting worse. They say that one of the big players in England just became werewolf-chow and now Lizzy is going mad. She keeps talking about following in Herrick’s footsteps and taking what’s rightfully ours. I remembered you saying that name before and I was wondering if we could talk? I’m getting scared. They’re just taking people from the streets now. That creep, Ron or whatever, brought in a thirteen-year-old girl. He didn’t even turn her, just tore her apart. 

We have to stop them, somehow. 

Meet me at the old clock tower at sunset. 

Kieran

-

“So you didn’t go along with the big bad plan and Lizzy makes you an example?” Mitchell paced in front of you. “Something there doesn’t add up.”

Your fingers gripped the beer bottle in your hand so tight you thought you’d break it. 

“What did you do?” Mitchell eyed you.

You took a drink.

“Y/N-”

“I may or may not have,” you took a deep breath, “killed her husband.” 

Mitchell almost dropped his bottle. “Y-you what?” 

“He was a creep who harassed me every chance he got and he was recruiting kids. Kids, Mitchell.” 

“So you decided to take matters into your own hands, well that’s just great.” He ran a hand through the dark curls you used to tangle your fingers in. “I’m sure you feel very noble now.”

Anger pulsed through you like the heartbeat you no longer had. You stood, setting your drink aside. “I knew it was a mistake coming here.” You started for the door. 

Mitchell sighed. “Y/N, wait.” 

You kept moving. 

A hand closed around your arm. 

“Just wait.” There’s a slight plea to his voice. “I shouldn’t judge you for trying to do something… good.” You always were the good one, he wanted to add but didn’t. 

You stood there for a moment, taking him in. 

He did the same. 

“I’m sorry, but could someone please clue me in as to what the hell is going on?” Annie huffed. 

You’d forgotten she’d been standing in the kitchen doorway, listening in even though Mitchell had specifically asked for some privacy. 

Frustration returned to his face. 

“It’s complicated-”

“I’m sorry, I have been incredibly rude.” You flashed the ghost a grin, a touch of your ingrained Irish charm breaking through your panic. You crossed the living room to shake her hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“You said that, yeah.” She eyed you suspiciously. 

“Mitchell and I have known each other for a long time.” You glanced over your shoulder, unsure of how much he wanted to reveal. 

“He knew Herrick for a long time, too.” 

“Annie-”

You held up a hand to stop him. “It’s okay.” 

Annie shifted on her feet. It wasn’t normal for her to be like this and it made her uncomfortable.

“I can understand why you might have a healthy distrust of vampires.” You motioned behind you with a smirk. “Other than him, of course.”

Finally, a small smile spread across the spirit’s lips. “Even him sometimes.” 

“I can hear you.”

“We know.” Both of you said at the same time. 

Annie peaked over your shoulder. “Okay, I think I like her.” 

“I’m already winning your friends over.” You gave Mitchell a victorious smile. “Now you have to help me.” 

 He rolled his eyes. “You haven’t met George.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s right,” Annie grimaced. “Plus Nina just moved out and that’s a whole mess unto itself, let me tell you-”

Mitchell cut her off. 

“Can we get back to the reason you’re here?” He said. “What makes you think I can help you?” Mitchell held out his arms, motioning to the flat. “It isn’t exactly the perfect place to hide.”

“Who are we hiding?” The door opened as he was speaking. The man you’d bumped into before stepped in. He spotted you and furrowed his brows. “Oh, um, hello.”

“Wait,” Annie said, still trying to wrap her mind around everything. “How exactly do you two know each other again? Were you part of Herrick’s groupies?”

“Herrick?” George gulped. 

“No, it isn’t that.” Mitchell moved to stand next to you. “George, this is Y/N.” He turned to you, a flicker of who he used to be resurfacing as he spoke. “My wife.” 

[devotedgossamerreader]

(or stay in rock harbor for her!)

[thekingofspin]

[indieboysarehot]

hiiiiii i’m still working on fics for the dastmalchian characters and the scream franchise the dc universe annnnnnd being human uk !!!! im obsessed with all of them ughhhhh

[tantanmo]

🅗🅔🅛🅛🅞!

Welcome to my blog! Honestly, I just created this because I was bored, but mostly because I LOVE to draw oc x canon and self inserts (pls don't judge me). It's going to be mostly about visual novel characters, more especifically John Doe, but I pretend to draw others characters in the future. For now, I'm going to focus in John Doe Game.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐈 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓:

► Self inserts

► Self ship

► Rareship

► Oc x oc

► Oc x canon

► (Possibly) Comics

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒 𝐈'𝐌 𝐈𝐍:

► John Doe Game

► Br0ken Colors

► Mushroom Oasis

► MDHM

► Your Boyfriend

► DDLC

► AOT

► MLP

► HP

► YS (I do not support the developer.)

✩.･*:｡≻───── ⋆♡⋆ ─────.•*:｡✩

𝐌𝐲 𝐅/𝐎:

☆ Monika (DDLC)

☆ Doe (John Doe Game)

☆ Annie (AOT)

☆ Oka Ruto (YS)

☆ Damon (Br0k3n C0lors)

☆ Mychael (Mushroom Oasis)

☆ Sweet Biscuit (MLP)

☆ Peter (Your Boyfriend)

☆ Cho Chang (HP)

──────────────────────

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞:

✘ Comsh1p/pr0ship

✘ Inc3st

✘ 4bus3

✘ R4pe

✘ P3d0

(If you like any of this, please DNI with this blog.)

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ᎪᏴϴႮͲ ᎷᎬ

♡ My real name's Anna, but I'd rather go with the nickname Tanmo

♡ I'm aroace/demiaroace

♡ I love music, drawing, playing guitar and videogames.

♡ I plan to be an engineer or a designer someday, hopefully everything's gonna work as I wish.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

⚠️⚠️⚠️May contain suggestive content, so if you're easily disturbed this blog might not be appropriate for you.

[wexhappyxfew]

in this light

(a/n): AHHHH HI, HELLO, AND SURPRISE!!!!! me managing to get a piece of writing out during the WEEK?!?!!? during the SCHOOL? WEEK? who am i. i don't know. but here we are. and i promise.....to my annie x brady girlies....PLEASE ENJOY. this has been a long time coming and something i've been carving and building out for months at this point. and i am so incredibly proud to have gotten to this point. so please, truly, enjoy! <333333

Annie Bradshaw was convinced that the greatest emotion a Bradshaw was capable of both withholding and expressing was guilt.

Guilt for a life that would never be lived.

Guilt for leaving the one you had put your roots down on across an ocean.

Guilt for the people who would never see that same person they saw shutting the door that day she had left.

The guilt she felt now, her family's letter curled into a ball in her pocket as she stared up at the moon shining through the sliver of window glass at the top of the bunkhouse doors.

Guilt made her feel that she had left her family behind for the sheer fact that she thought she could do something better in this world than harvest crops and take care of the chickens and the eggs they laid.

Guilt made her feel that flying in a plane that no longer had its original commanding pilot was something that was nearly scornful - something to regret.

Guilt made her feel that everything that had led up to now was her fault - the reason they were all trapped here, stuck here, frozen in time - even if it weren't.

To feel too much hurt.

"Psst." Annie craned her head over her shoulder and found a darkened figured approaching out of the darkness of the dimly lit hallway of the bunkhouse, "That you, Annie?"

Leave it to John Brady to find her in the midst of the night, even if it meant crawling out of the warmth of his bunk to try and seek her out. There was nothing more in this world that was beyond the presence of John Brady in her life. Despite the lives they now lived day to day in this camp, he had made it infinitely more tolerable in every way imaginable.

"It's me." Annie said quietly, watching the moonlight slowly pour upon his face and his beautiful eyes that settled onto her once he had stepped into the brighter light.

The smile on his face was enough for her to offer a small one back and it was only a matter of a second before he was evaluating her there. He always seemed to know right from wrong and in that instance, that something was bothering her.

"You okay?" he asked her, stepping forward and almost instantaneously wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "You looked….distracted earlier. I hope you don't mind that I followed you out here." Annie smiled slightly and bashfully glanced up at him, his warm arm around her shoulders hugging her into his comfortable side, stabilizing her there against his large form, his hand slowly rubbing up and down the length of her arm.

A person in her life had never been so stable, so firm, so present - so willing to be there even if the worst of circumstances.

Even with where they were now.

John Brady had been the ever-present person he was - the constant.

"Not if it's you." Annie said quietly with a nod and she watched his smile grow fonder, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a soft way that would be indescribable by morning.

In the moment, she could see it all now, but when she would wake, she'd be watching him from across the room, fighting to remember the feel of his arm around her, his eyes on her. It wasn't until moments where they were side by side did she truly let her heart feel the way it did about him - he let her lead, he let her stand on her own, be the command pilot she was and still is.

But he would hold her in the middle of the night, kissing her forehead, letting her nestle away into the crook of the warmth of his neck, praying to disappear into the presence that was himself.

He'd whisper the sweetest remarks, the softest words that made her smile and laugh. He was more than just a friend, but in anyway possible, she didn't know how to get past that feeling - of knowing there was more, but that death was always a willing option to follow. Annie wanted to protect every bit there was of the John Brady that was stood beside her right now in anyway she could.

Whenever she loved too much, she always fell to that - how could she protect a person so lovely from who she really was?

How could she protect them from the world?

But Annie knew it was fruitless. The world would march on around them, she'd peel back her layers and show who she was - and the world would still spin. How would she make it stop for those few seconds to truly show who she was to him? What he meant to her?

"I see your back at it with the moon, huh?" he asked her quietly, his grip around her shoulders tightening a bit and she leaned into his side more, cheek pressed up against the colder, outer exterior of his coat, molding herself into the side of him. Her eyes drew themselves to the moon again.

"Yeah." she said quietly, "First clear night in weeks. Figured I would go applaud the sky for that one." Brady managed a small chuckle and she could sense that he was glancing down at her again.

"You doing okay?" he asked. She took a moment to collect herself before pulling her head from his side and looking upwards at him warily.

"Fine…for the most part." she said with a convincing nod, offering him a smile again as she looked at him.

"How about yourself?" she asked, reaching forward to brush his longer strands of loose hair from his forehead and out of his eyes, "You look tired." And she knew it. She could see the exhaustion displayed on his face that he was hurriedly trying to cover up with those smiles and tender looks.

John Brady was someone that knew her far too well - and who she knew far too well, too. His presence didn't go unnoticed, his fight, his want to stay alive just like the rest of them. But that wearing on him stayed just as ever-present as anything else in this life.

"Nah," Brady said softly, as she continued to softly run her fingers back through hair, "not too tired. I think I'll always be tired."

"John…." Annie said quietly watching as he quirked out a smile at her, "I'm serious."

"Even if I'm tired, I wanted to make sure you were alright," Brady said quietly, before smirking, "especially if it means it's just you and me right now." Annie looked up at him, her cheeks warming the slightest bit. The whisper of his voice tickling her ears and her skin, that soft look in his eyes enough to make her knees shakes.

"Well, you got me." Annie said, rather boldly looking up at him, attempting to maintain what composure was left in her as he watched her. If there was anything, she'd never feel guilty about the way John Brady looked at her and treated her. She felt like the only person in the room sometimes when she'd catch his gaze.

"That I do." Annie's cheek heated more.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked him quietly, her hand stopping in his hair a bit, her eyes wandering towards his, her free hand itching to grab his own.

"Ask away, Bradshaw." he said, tilting his head to the side, those stubborn strands of hair hanging in his eyes again, to which Annie reached forward to brush back again.

"If I'm mistaken, one night, you….Mr. John Brady, whispered something that's been in my mind for a bit too long." she said quietly, watching as his smirk grew, the moonlight making his face and eyes glow even in the darkness. Her palms grew sweaty as she retreated her hands and crossed her arms in front of her, the large presence of Brady in front of her seeming to swallow her whole.

"What was that?" he asked her, voice lower this time as his eyes roamed her face, before settling on her lips - this time, lingering longer than was needed - before traveling back up to her eyes.

"Well," Annie said clearing her throat, fighting the smile on her face, "if you could focus your gaze on my eyes, maybe I'd tell you, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." Annie was damn-near sure every emotion was about to burst at the moment, but she managed to hold it together in front of him - how she even did that was a miracle in it of itself. Annie took a step closer, looking up towards him, her eyes staring deeply up into his and smiled slightly.

"Someone wanted me back at Thorpe Abbotts, in nothing but his A2 jacket. All by ourselves." she whispered quietly. And watching the recognition in his eyes had to be her favorite part of standing there, inches from his face, the tiny realization clicking across his face until the tops of his own cheeks were dusted red.

"Didn't know you felt that way about me, John Brady." she said quietly, watching him swallow nervously - seeing him suddenly almost out-of-place made her heart wobble. There it was again - that want to shield him from the world, protect him, keep him at the peace in which they'd manage to maintain in a place like this.

God, what was he doing to her?

"Didn't think you'd hear that." he managed out, but she could tell he was just trying to get words out of his mouth. She'd managed to stun him it seemed in anyway that was possible to stun John Brady. And in this light, where it was just the two of them, inches from each other, where it almost felt like they were the most vulnerable that they'd been, she managed a small smile.

"I'm only teasing you." Annie managed out, her nerves getting the best of her as she watched his face continue to flush crimson - even if the moonlit darkness, her own cheeks were nearly hot to the touch and his presence there across those inches between them was enough to warm her entire body up.

"I thought you'd been asleep. When I'd said that." he managed out again and Annie couldn't help but nervously look away from his gaze and towards his lips there in front of her before trailing her eyes upwards again.

"Oh." she said quietly, unsure of what words to conjure up next that would make sense. He thought she was asleep - but he'd still said it. He'd still said those words and she'd been thinking about it ever since.

"Did you mean it?" she asked him, holding her gaze on his. How she hadn't turned away yet, she'd never know.

"Every word of it." Brady said, his voice filled with nerves, but equally confident that he'd meant it. That'd he meant every word he'd ever said to her since he'd helped her up into the back of Bucky Egan's jeep.

For a moment, as his words rang in her ears, she stood there staring up at him.

Every word of it. Every word of it. Every word of it.

She would never feel guilty about what she did next.

Slowly, she reached forward, placing her hands on his broad, built shoulders, before letting them travel up his neck towards his cheek bones, which felt like they were practically on fire. God what was she even doing?

She let herself step forward, right up against his body, tilting her head upwards as Brady slowly looked down towards her, those inches between them suffocating as she stared into his persistent gaze. He seemed frozen there in front of her - almost like he couldn't believe what was happening, though neither could she.

"Annie…." Brady whispered, his voice tight, like it was caught in his throat, fighting for a way out. She watched him, looking up through he lashes towards his beautiful face that had never looked more safe, warm and protected right where they were. He had never looked more like himself than in this moment.

"You can touch me." she whispered - the boldness was more than a surprise to her it felt, from both of them, as he reached forward, wrapping his arms rightly around her waist, underneath her jacket, large hands splayed across her back as they each seemed to breathe in shaky breaths of air, mixed between them.

His eyes had never been more locked onto hers as she slowly moved her left hand from his cheek up into his hair, watching as his eyes flickered and he swallowed, maintaining what composure the two of them had left.

The stillness around them almost made her retreat all the sudden - them, the two of them - stood in the hallway of the bunkhouse in the middle of the night, the strobes of the moon shining right into the bunkhouse as best as they could, onto the two of them, wrapped in each other's arms.

But the second she came to focus on his eyes again, those eyes, she was gone.

And for a moment, her eyes fluttered close and she envisioned the touch of his hands on her back, what it meant to just be held so close to him, after everything he'd done for her and with her. Holding onto her like his life depended on it. Her hand up into his hair, her other on his cheek - enough for when a small noise escaped his lips, did she shut her eyes fully for a moment.

Life had always been about Annie Bradshaw getting close to everything she had wanted, but having it ripped away from her in a matter of seconds.

Right before all the good things would happen.

Right before things would finally change.

Everything was always gone in seconds, even if it had taken years to get where she had gotten.

But now?

Stood with John Brady inches from her face, she had everything she had ever wanted. Right. Here. Right in front of her.

"John-"

Before she could even finish his name, her entire body became pressed to the front of himself and his lips had pressed right onto her own, a small gasp at the back of her throat dying at his touch. And soon his hands were exploring the length of her back, her own touch feeling its way up into his hair, the small groans from his lips making her a little crazy on the inside. Everything about John Brady made her feel a little crazy though - how he looked at her, treated her, talked about her….touched her. With intent and purpose and meaning.

Everything meant something when it came to the two of them.

Even when they had only thought it to be nothing more than friendship. It had always meant something more. They stumbled a bit of feet and toes as her back pressed against the wooden wall beside the door, his kisses intoxicating and dizzying in more ways than one.

And John Brady?

He knew how to kiss.

For all his mannerisms and politeness and gentlemanly way of affairs - she had never been kissed like the way John Brady kissed. His hands had made their way to her neck, the large palms pressed against the hot skin of her cheeks, fingers dancing towards her jawline and hair, his lips persistent and deepening.

There was something natural about being pressed up against the wall, John Brady kissing her, her mind spinning in circles as his tongue pressed against her bottom lip.

And before she knew it, they pulled away for a brief moment, gasping for short bits of air between them - along with the sudden realization that she was sweating all over.

Annie met Brady's gaze and found him already watching her, with one of the most dazed looks she'd ever seen on the man. She didn't have words for what it meant to be standing there like this in front of him, watching his gaze linger on hers longer and longer. There were no words to describe this feeling - she could only let herself feel what feeling this actually was. Love.

"I should've asked to kiss you, but I couldn't-"

"John." Annie whispered quietly, cutting him off as she inhaled a deep breath, "You didn't have to ask." He watched her and slowly nodded. Then he smiled.

"I mean every word I said," he whispered with a small grin, "so…..may I kiss you? Again?" Annie looked up at him, grinning like he was almost innocent and let out a small laugh, her cheeks warm, his own cheeks red, their eyes glowing, bodies inches from one another there in the darkness.

"Please do." Annie whispered, and the small laugh that left Brady's lips, that smirk on his face, made her lose her mind as he pressed his lips deeply and slowly, enough to make her eyes shut.

Brady moaning into her mouth did something to her insides as she pressed herself closer to his body, her hands traveling into that lush hair of his that her fingertips had been begging to touch for days by this point after that look across the bunk room, that longing look, the way his eyes had turned nearly insane as he had watched her, the urge to reach out and have him slam her against the wall previously overwhelming.

But now, they were here and he was kissing her, and she was kissing back with just as much urgency, the two of them falling apart in each other's embraces.

For a brief moment, they separated, their lips still inches from one another as they took in soft breaths of air, eyes shut, simply holding onto one another in the silence of the night.

Annie had almost expected to feel crazed. She had expected to feel suddenly all over the place and overwhelmed and unsure of what to do next. But with Brady, she felt the farthest from that. She'd never felt more calm and safe and protected and content than in this moment of time. With him.

Then, she heard Brady let out a small chuckle, before gently pressing his lips to hers before pulling back again. This time, she did open her eyes and look upwards towards him. She smiled. He was smiling that gorgeous grin.

"What?" Annie whispered.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that." Brady said quietly. Annie watched him with a quiet gaze - his words seemed to strike her somewhere deep inside her heart. To hear those words. He'd waited.

Any memory that she had seemed to share with him before this moment flashed through her mind.

She remembered all those early mornings sharing coffee with the rising sun, the soft breeze, the shared quiet gazes. Those dances at the flying club, the times he'd offer his hand and spin her on the floor and then they'd go back to those quiet glances and small smiles. All those times he'd come to find her and check on her, all those moments before missions, when death could undoubtedly become imminent. Who'd made her feel both comfortable and confident and more herself than she'd ever been. And she'd never had another person who could do such a thing to her.

Annie slowly reached forward and without any second thought, wrapped her arms around the center of his form, hands clawing up the back underneath his jacket as she snuggled her head against his chest.

All her life, all she had wanted was to be able to let her guard down around someone else without being judged, torn apart, or told off for it. Someone who wouldn't let her get lost in the darkness, who would willingly hold out their hand towards her and take it head-on with her. Someone like John Brady.

Slowly, Brady wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her head there in the silent darkness before resting his cheek atop her head. And she could sense him smiling there, just the slightest shift in his grin.

"I've waited a while, too." she whispered softly and he let out a quiet laugh to which she couldn't help but grin. Brady chuckled quietly again.

"How about you stay the night?" he whispered quietly. Annie pulled back, looking up at him with her arms still wrapped around his center and smirked.

"Almost like we're not in the middle of a P.O.W. camp." she said and watched as he smirked at her words and shook his head.

"I just want to know you're right there next to me when I go to sleep," he whispered quietly and his eyes grew serious as he watched her, "especially here." Annie managed a tender smile and reached up onto her tip-toes to kiss his lips softly.

"You got me." she whispered against his lips, before grinning and fluttering her eyes close, 'No funny business though." Brady laughed.

"No funny business?" Brady asked her quietly, his hand sliding up under her sweater to her warm skin, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean." Annie said quietly.

"Do I?" he whispered back and her cheeks warmed. Did she? Annie met his gaze again and watched his eyes trail across her face. Pressing forward, she put her lips to his ear and grinned.

"How about you stay the night in mine?" she whispered, before unlatching from his warmth and turning away down the creaky, dimly lit hallway. Glancing over her shoulder, she found him watching her from the moonlight, that wide grin on his face. She smirked as she disappeared into the bunk room - she was sure she could see that smile in every universe and know, more than anything - that it was him. She'd never feel guilty for loving someone like him despite the world and the war.

She'd do it all again to see that smile - to see him.