#i’m assuming there will be a fight for it to be picked up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoonieyun · 1 day ago

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together again

together again

pairing: sim jake x reader “y/n”

genre: angst, exes to lovers

warnings: not a lot really but please let me know if i miss one, mentions of death, car accident, profanity, reader has/had amnesia, 18+

summary: your sister gets a call from the principal to pick up her daughter after an altercation with another student. unable to because of work, she asks you to pick up your niece and when you do, you meet an old face. one you hadn’t seen in years and one you definitely have tried to forget. among the memories you’ve forgotten, you wish you had forgotten him.

word count: 8517

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

your phone rings, jolting you out of your sleep. your sister’s contact appears on your phone and you bring it to your ear as you press the green accept button. “it’s 8am why are you calling me?” you say, voice hoarse. “what? y/n, its 10am are you still in bed? ugh, that doesn’t matter. jiheon got into a fight at school, can you pick her up please?” your sister asks. “i’d pick her up but i’m about to enter a conference, please, i’ll owe you one!” she says before ending the call, not giving you a chance to even answer. it wasn’t like you weren’t going to pick her up, you loved your niece and would do anything for her.

you quickly freshened up, changing into new clothes and putting your hair back into a clip. the drive to your niece’s school wasn’t too long. it was only 10 minutes away. when you got there, some students were playing in the courtyard. you made your way to the office, “hi, i’m y/n. i’m jiheon’s aunt, her mom asked me to come pick her up. is everything alright?” you ask the lady at the front desk. “miss park? are you jiheon’s mom?” a man in a suit who you assumed was the principal approached you. “no, i’m her aunt. her mom is at an important conference right now so she asked me to look after jiheon, is everything okay?” you asked once again, worried that you hadn’t seen your niece but had already asked for her a few times.

“auntie y/n!” jiheon shouts. you peer behind the principal and see jiheon running towards you. she crashes into you with a hug, her small figure only reaching to your waist. you kneel down to her level, “hey dear, is everything ok? are you hurt?” you ask her and she just looks down while nodding. clearly she had been affected in some way and you wanted to know what was going on.

“what happened? all i know is that jiheon got into a fight? what is that about?” you say while softly pulling your niece behind you. “well, she pushed another student off of a swing.” the man explains. “he started it! he was calling me names!” jiheon shouts from behind you, causing you to further put her behind you to shield her away.

“so she was defending herself. case closed, the other student should be punished- wait he? you pushed a boy off a swing?” you ask your niece and she nods. you mouth the word “nice!” and give her a high five before turning back to the principal. “we have a no violence policy here at Bright Spring Academy. jiheon will have to come in on a saturday for disciplinary training for the rest of the month.”

“what?!” you and your niece both yell in disbelief. this moment reminded you of when you would constantly get in trouble in school back when you were younger. at some point your parents made you switch schools 3 times in one year because of how much trouble you were getting into.

“that’s ridiculous! and what punishment is the other student going to get-” you ask but are cut off by another man running into the office. “principal lim! is leehan okay?” he asks, completely ignoring your presence and shoving past you to get to the principal. a little boy runs from the same direction jiheon had previously appeared from and ran up to the man. “uncle!” he yells and the man kneels down to the boy's level to receive his hug. he softly rubs the back of the boy’s head, “you alright bud?” he asks, his strong australian accent giving you deja vu.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

you and jake were walking in a park hand in hand when he spotted a stray dog limping on the side of the street. jake quickly looks both ways before crossing the street, dragging you along as your hand was still in his.

he kneels down to the small dog, petting him softly; “you alright bud?” he asks the dog. the dog releases a small whimper before it cuddles up to jake’s hand.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

“jake?!” you say in disbelief. “yeah?” he says before looking up at whoever called his name. when jake finally lets go of his nephew and looks up at you with his big puppy eyes, it's like he’s hit with a truck. he hasn’t seen you in years, the shock of seeing you out of nowhere causing him to lose balance and stumble onto the floor. “uncle!” leehan says, his small hands trying his best to help his uncle back on his feet. jake gets back on his feet, dusting himself off, and running his hand through his hair.

“y/n… what are you doing?” he asks, voice trembling a bit but his eyes says that he’s happy to see you. “leaving.” you say while grabbing your niece's hand and making your way to the exit. “don’t forget about saturday disciplinary classes!” principal lim says. “jiheon won’t be attending unless he’s there too.” you say, gesturing to jake’s nephew; and with that the two of you head to your car. “thanks auntie… i’m sorry.” jiheon says, causing you to whip your head around to face your niece.

once again, knelt in front of your 8 year old niece. you softly brush away her hair that has landed in front of her face. she was looking down, embarrassment and shame was spread across her tiny face. “hey…” you say while grabbing her chin to look at you. “never. apologize. okay?” emphasizing each word. “you did the right thing.” you say, making sure that your niece knew that you meant every word. “but mom says violence isn’t the answer.” she says, now fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “please, your mom and i used to beat up boys in school if they looked at us weird.” you say and her eyes light up at your words. “really?” she says and you nod. grabbing her hand once again as you approach your car. “yeah, but don’t tell her i said that. it’s good you defend yourself from a bully, that’s what matters.” you explain as you unlock your car and open the door to the back seat. you help jiheon get into your car, sliding her backpack off and putting it onto the seat next to her. you help buckle her seatbelt when someone calls out to you.

“y/n!” you turn your head around, the sun in your eyes but you could clearly see who called after you. you see jake running up to you so you quickly close the door, “give me a sec sweetie, ok?” you say and jiheon just nods.

“what the hell do you want?” you ask and jake quickly cover’s his nephews ears. “language!” he whisper yells, you mutter a small sorry. “when did you get back?” jake asks, hands still covering the small boy’s ear standing in front of him. you always imagined jake would be a good father. you often talked about a life where you had a family and grew old together.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

“so how many kids do you want?” you ask him, playing with his hands as you both laid on your bed in your dorm. “hmm, 5?” jake says and it surprises you so much you begin to cough. “woah, baby you okay?” he says while laughing.

“jaeyun? five?!” you ask him and he just nods at you with a silly smile and his puppy eyes. you shake your head at him and smile back. “i don’t know if i can handle five kids.” you say half jokingly. he grabs your head and brings it to his lips, softly placing a kiss onto them. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you and all the kiddos. i’d make sure to give all of them equal attention and to love all of you with all my heart!” he says, rubbing your tummy and giving it a kiss as if there was already a child growing inside of you. “but…” jake says with a pause.

“i’d be happy with anything, just as long as you’re by my side.”

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

“like… four months ago. jake what do you want?” you ask, finally giving him his answer but not without asking a question of your own. jake stutters, trying to come up with an answer but to his dismay he isn’t really able to form one. not because he didn’t have an answer, but because he was too stunned and didn’t know how to answer it without crumbling. “i just-” he begins but cuts himself off. no answer leaving his lips.

“bye jake.” you say as you begin to turn around. “why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, desperation dripping from his words like he was begging you for an explanation when you clearly didn’t owe him one. “i have no obligation to you jake. we haven’t been together for 6 years.” you say before finally turning around and getting inside of your car.

“who is that auntie?” jiheon asks as she played with the hem of her sweater. “just some weirdo, you ready kiddo?” you ask her and she yells in excitement. you begin to back your car up but jake was slightly in the way. you didn’t like jake but you weren’t about to commit a crime and run him over with your car. you honk the horn causing jake and his nephew to jump, moving out of your way so you could leave the parking lot. once you had finished backing out, you sped off back to your sister’s house, exhausted by the interactions you had today and it wasn’t even 1PM.

jake watched you drive off, disappointment lingering in his head at how that went. for the last 6 years he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. he even would write a script in his head how he would talk to you when he sees you again for the first time in a while. needless to say, this wasn’t how he expected it to go. he combs his hand through his hair with a big sigh, “uncle can we go now? i’m hungry.” leehan says, tugging on his uncle’s jacket. “right! yeah, sorry bud. come on.” jake says as he grabs his nephew’s backpack as they make their way to his car. only parked a few spots away from where your car was.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

you were helping your sister set the dinner table, trying to figure out the best way to bring up the jake fiasco earlier in the day when your niece randomly blurts it out, “auntie almost punched a guy at school today.” she says nonchalantly. your sister’s face contorts into a puzzled expression while you stare at your niece like she had just betrayed you. “jiheon! i did not!” you say with a scoff, slightly laughing. “jiheon, go upstairs really quick. i’ll call you down when dinner is ready.” your sister says as she stirs the soup on the stove.

jiheon gets up from her spot at the kitchen counter in one of the stools and walks up the stairs to her room but not before you tickle her for her betrayal, resulting in her shrieking followed by a giggle as she runs up the stairs. “so what was that about?” your sister inquires.

“nothing…” you say with a side eye, hoping your sister would take your side instead of believing her 8 year old daughter. “y/n…” she says like your mom used to say when she would warn you. “okay!” you say, throwing your hands up in defeat. “i didn’t punch a guy okay! but… i did run into jake…” you say, whispering the last part. “you what?” she asks, unclear what she heard. “iranintojakeattheschool.” you say, blending all the words together with the speed that they left your mouth. “y/n!” your sister says, an irritated expression spread across her face. “i ran into jake! gosh! must i talk about that man!” you say, slumping into a seat at the dinner table. head resting on your hand as you propped it up on the table. a pout visible on your face. “oh… jake you say..?” your sister says, slowly turning away from you to return to stirring the soup on the stove. “yes… what?” you ask, now concerned because of her reaction.

“oh, nothing.” she says with an awkward chuckle. you stand up from the table and get closer to her. “joy, what??” you ask her, now wanting an answer out of her. sure jake was your ex boyfriend but her reaction read as something else. not the reaction you were expecting

from your older sister when you bring up an ex. “jiheon! honey, dinner’s ready!” your sister yells out, trying to change the subject. “joy!” you say, swatting your hand at her but she was too far. before you know it, jiheon is rushing back downstairs with a piece of paper in her hand. “this isn’t done.” you mouth to your sister before you grab some glasses from the kitchen counter to bring to the table.

you’re setting the glasses down at their respective places when jiheon hands you the piece of paper. “what’s this jiji?” you ask, using the nickname you gave her. “open it!” she says as she rocks back and forth on her heels and toes. you unfolded the paper and inside there was a heart and two stick figures you assumed was you and your niece, and the words “i’m sorry” written in the heart.

“aww, jiji i wasn’t actually mad! don’t worry, i forgive you!” you tell her, reassuring your niece that she shouldn’t feel bad and that you were only joking around. she gives you a tight hug and the three of you have dinner.

ever since you moved back to korea, you had been living with your sister and her daughter. your sister’s husband worked overseas for your parent’s company while your sister helped manage the branch in south korea now that your parents were getting too old to be constantly working. your brother in law was a good man, but you could see that his family missed him.

your sister was kind enough to let you live with her instead of making you find an overpriced condo somewhere in the city. ever since the accident it has been hard for you to be alone, so being with them made things a lot easier for you when you came back to korea.

when you were 23, you were in a car accident that should’ve killed you. you broke several bones and had several cuts and bruises scattered across your skin; you were in such critical condition that the hospital at one point started preparing your family for preparations for your death, but life had other plans. instead of leaving this earth, you were in a coma for 8 months. after close monitoring and intensive care, the doctor’s taking care of you were surprised that you had opened your eyes one day.

you were now 28, almost 29 when you moved back to korea. your mother stayed by your side throughout your whole recovery in america, never leaving your side, she was like your guardian angel. when you woke up from your coma, the doctor’s diagnosed you with amnesia, which they expected with the amount of damage and trauma your body and mind went through. it took a year and a half for most of your memories to come back, however, the events of that night, so traumatic, never returned. to which you’re grateful for. even today, you have a hard time forming coherent and structured memories that stick in your mind unless a specific instance sticks in your brain.

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you’re washing the dishes in the kitchen when joy slips the last of the dishes into the sink, “really?” you said with a stoic expression. it was just like when you were younger, sliding plates into the sink while the other was already washing dishes to avoid having to wash your own. the two of you laugh it off as your sister gives you a small hug. “thanks for picking up jiheon.” she says, giving your shoulders a squeeze before letting go.

“i don’t know what i’m going to do with her. her behavior has been so different lately…” your sister says, leaning on the kitchen counter. “what do you mean? she seems fine to me.” you respond, eyes focused on cleaning the dishes in the sink. “what? she literally got into a fight today.” your sister reminds you. “no, she didn’t! the boy was bullying her and she defended herself, what about that is her getting into a fight?” you retort and your sister rolls her eyes at your response, like she expected that from you.

“violence isn’t the answer y/n. you, of all people should know that that behavior isn’t good.” she says, causing you to scoff at her. “oh, don’t give me that bullshit joy. i turned out fine. you need to prioritize your daughter’s safety and well being instead of being too focused on this behavior of hers.” you say, putting air quotes around “behavior”; soap suds flying into the air at your motion.

“she’s clearly not doing well because of a bully and instead of automatically thinking she’s the problem because she pushed some kid in self defense, maybe you need to focus on your daughter’s mental health.” you say, unloading onto your sister, disappointed in her for not seeing the bigger picture. “this has clearly been happening for too long and she had been bottling it inside until she had enough and finally stood up for herself.” you say, giving your sister a quick glance, her gaze glued to the tile floor of the kitchen.

“you can’t punish your daughter because she got into a fight, if you can even call it that. you need to let her understand that bullying isn’t okay and if she needs to defend herself, then she should.” by the end of your speech your sister’s face had turned a shade of red.

whenever your sister knew she was in the wrong, her face would gradually turn red. it was then that you knew that she understood what you’re saying so you didn’t need to say more. “go easy on her, she’s so young and she just wants you to feel like you’re on her side. we were just like that when we were her age.” you say softly, putting the last of the clean dishes on the drying rack. you quickly dry your hands on a rag before walking over to your sister.

“okay?” you ask, looking into her eyes. “yes, ugh i hate when you’re right.” she says with a smile while pulling you in for another hug. “it happens more often than you think.” you say with a chuckle and she pushes you away in response. “that was a good speech, it’s like mom’s spirit transferred into you for a second.” your sister says. your mom was always the more tender and understanding one of your parents. although your dad wasn’t necessarily strict or intense, his ways of showing affection were limited, and his way of raising you and your sister was focused on making sure you put in the effort to achieve your dreams through hard work.

“so what are you gonna do about the jake thing?” your sister asks, tiptoeing around the topic. “nothing. i haven’t seen since i was like 22 and i have no plans of seeing him again.” you say with a shrug before you made your way to your room. the basement that your sister had renovated to be livable for you. a spacious open area that had enough so that you didn’t feel like you were too crammed. it was like having a studio of your own.

what you were unaware of was that you would be seeing jake more often than you thought.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

the next day, when you’re casually shopping for a bit of groceries to make dinner for your mom as she was visiting you two, you run into jake at the market. he’s in the ramen aisle, sifting through the various ramen flavors. he hadn’t changed one bit, he still loved ramen.

you were about to turn around and leave when he glances at you, calling your name. you stop in your tracks like you’ve been caught. “bye jake.” you quickly say, not even bothering to look back at him and just making your way to another section of the store. far, far away from the ramen aisle.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

you next saw jake at a cafe. you had just finished your morning run, something you picked up in physical therapy when you were in recovery. it had helped a lot with your mobility and was some sort of therapy for you. once your body recovered enough, you picked up running every morning.

you had stopped by a coffee shop to grab a latte for you and your sister, and a hot chocolate for your niece when you almost crash into jake as you’re exiting. “woah!” he says as he catches you, his hand softly landing around your waist as you grip the tray of drinks with both hands.

“y/n?” he asks and you just release yourself from his grip, jake throwing his arms up in defeat by your actions.

“bye jake.” you say and leave. jake awkwardly looks around, feeling like the whole coffee shop was staring at him and indeed they were. so he shyly smiles at everyone with an apologetic hand gesture to the patrons as he makes his way to the counter.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

you’re on an evening run in the park when a dog runs up to you. stopping to kneel down and pet the cute dog, you’re unsure of where she came from or who her owner was. that was until a familiar australian accent calls for her, “layla! i told you to stop running after people.” jake says, causing you to roll your eyes. you stand with your hands on your hips and lean to the side as you watch jake jog after his dog.

“come here girl.” he says and layla runs back to him. jake was about to start a conversation with you but before he can say anything you return back to your run. “bye jake.” you say as your run passed him.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

when you see jake for the 4th time in just a week, you snap at him. you’re dropping off your niece at school for her saturday disciplinary class and of course jake is there to drop off his nephew.

you rush back to your car when jake runs after you. “y/n, please!” he says, pleading that you would just talk to him. “what jake?! what could you possibly want?” you say, frantically throwing your arms up, irritation clearly running through your face.

“i just wanna talk… please?” he asks softly, a bit hurt at your reaction. he didn’t think he had done anything wrong and he fully wasn’t sure why you were so angry or hostile towards him. you close your eyes to calm down a bit before you answer him, “fine.” you say calmly. a smile crawls onto jake’s face, ecstatic that you finally agreed to speak with him. you exchange numbers and jake texts you the address with a heart emoji. “cut it out.” you say bluntly and jake obliges. “ok, sorry. please drive safe.” he says, almost hinting at your accident years ago. a wound you weren’t ready to open up with jake.

you didn’t notice, however, that when jake gave you his number to put in yours, he didn’t ask for yours. jake, although you haven’t been together for sometime, still kept your number in his phone saved under “y/n” with a pink heart and ring emoji. he hadn’t even changed your contact photo. it was a picture of you at the beach. it was his favorite photo of you and his favorite memory.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

you had arrived at the cafe, “cafe chaconne” in cursive written above the glass doors. jake was patiently waiting for you at the entrance, eyes lighting up and lips widening into a smile when he spotted you exiting your car and walking towards him.

“m’lady.” jake says while opening the door with a curtsy. you narrow your eyes at him and he straightens up and clears his throat. “sorry.” he mumbles and watches you enter, not seeing the smile on your face. jake releases a big sigh and prepares himself for this moment he didn’t realize he was waiting for.

the two of you quickly put in an order with the younger barista at the counter, jake fighting you on the bill and insisting to pay for your drink. a normal banter between the two of you when you were dating, a wave of deja vu hitting you as a short memory flashes in your mind.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

“hi, can we get the bill please?” jake asks the waitress and she looks at jake with a confused expression. “sir your meal has been paid for already.” she kindly informs your boyfriend and now it’s jake’s turn to return the confused expression. when jake is too confused to speak, the waitress walks away after saying her goodbyes.

jake is still confused but his face changes when his eyes land on you. a shit-eating grin on your face as you smile at jake’s reaction. he soon realizes you’re the one who covered the bill and had beaten him to it.

“why do you always fight me on the bill?” jake says with a pout and you just shrug and stick you’re tongue out at him.

“you’re just my little princess.” you say and blow a kiss his way. jake at first rolls his eyes but pretends to catch the kiss and places it inside of his jacket.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

“y/n? you alright?” jake says, knocking you out of your thoughts as you realize you’ve just been standing absentmindedly in the middle of the cafe. the two of you walk to a small table just big enough for the two of you and the silence is a bit awkward.

“you brought me here, so what do you want?” you say, your tone is a bit more sharp than you intended but you could tell jake wasn’t phased as it seemed like he was glad you broke the silence. “right!” jake says, almost jumping out of his seat at the sound of your voice. he clears his throat before speaking.

“sooo… how are you?” jake asks, testing the waters, unsure of how to start the conversation; trying to tiptoe around the touchy subject and tension between the two of you. “is that really what you wanted to ask me?” you respond and before jake can reply, the barista brings the two of you your drinks. you both thank her and as you take a sip of your hot chocolate, “i miss you y/n.” jake says, causing you to choke on your drink and jake’s eyes widen at your reaction.

“sorry, the drink is really hot.” you say trying to play it off so it didn’t hurt his feelings and jake gives you a small tight-lipped smile. he knows that his statement was abrupt and by your reaction it definitely caught you off guard but he took no offense to it all. deciding that just getting it out of the way would be the best even if you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. those four words were something that had been eating at him since the last time he saw you and he had no way of telling you until now.

“um, jake. i don’t know what to say-” you respond but jake softly puts his hand over yours. letting you know that you didn’t have to feel the same way but that he just wanted to you know that. “it’s alright. just know that i’ve never stopped thinking about you.” jake says and you close your eyes. trying to hold yourself together, surprised that this was making you more emotional than you thought it would, unsure of what to say or feel.

“please, tell me about you. how’ve you been? i wanna know everything.” jake says and you slowly fill him in on your life. only the parts that you were willing to share, omitting all of the traumatic things that happened during your healing journey and focusing on the brighter side but jake brings up the accident and at first you were reluctant but figured that jake deserved to know the full truth.

“after the accident i was in a coma and after 8 months i somehow woke up. then my parents moved me to the states for better medical treatment. something about knowing a doctor there that specializes in physical therapy i don’t even know but i wasn’t necessarily in the position to question it.” you explain, jake nodding as he actively listened to you, a part of him wanting to hug and console you as you spoke after seeing tears well in your eyes. you had hoped that jake didn’t notice so you wiped them away and kept talking. you explained how after the accident, you were in a coma for about 8 months and miraculously lived through it.

“i was in the states until just a few months ago. i actually fully healed last year but didn’t decide to come back until recently.” you finish and jake is just nodding. at this point he was half listening and the other half was scanning your face. you were still as beautiful as jake remembered but he could tell some parts of you were different. you had a different aura to you and jake couldn’t blame you. what you went through was tragic and traumatic and he couldn’t imagine just how much pain and ache it caused you. he doesn’t realize a small tear is rolling down his cheek until you point it out.

“jake are you crying?” you ask and he snaps out of his thoughts. this time it was his turn to wipe the tears from his eyes and act like they weren’t there. “i’m really sorry you went through all of that, y/n.” jake says and you could tell he was being genuine. you mutter a small thank you before taking a sip of your drink. confusion brewing inside of you as you begin to feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. feelings that you only ever felt with jake.

“i had amnesia for a while. if i’m being honest i can’t even remember what it was like because the more i remembered old memories and made new ones, it filtered out me not remembering anything at all.” you explained, half unsure if what you said even makes sense but due to jake’s nod you assumed that it did. “i don’t even remember the night i got into the accident-” you begin to say.

“i’m really sorry!” jake says abruptly, interrupting you just as you were about to finish what you were saying. it was like he needed to get his apology out of his system despite having just apologized a few moments ago. like this apology was for something specific rather than a general condolscenes. “you don’t have to be sorry jake. it’s not your fault.” you say, comforting him because clearly he was feeling a strong bowt of emotion from hearing what happened to you.

“but you should feel sorry for never reaching out to me…” you say quietly but to jake it was loud and clear. “why did you come see me… at all?” you ask, this was a question that had been weighing on you for sometime. when your memories of jake came back, that was one of the first things you thought of, but ever since that day you had never received an answer. maybe now you would.

jake opens his mouth to say something but stops himself. like he was thinking of the correct thing to say but nothing leaves his lips besides another apology. jake drops his head, embarrassed at his weakness and for not telling you what you needed to hear. you were so tired of hearing sorries and apologies. none of that was going to bring you back together and no apology was going to fix the irrepairable damage that night did to you. but you couldn’t blame jake for that, you’d never blame jake for what happened that night.

you sigh as you stand up, jake’s eyes following you as you sling your bag over your shoulder and fix your coat. “thanks for the drink jake. i’ll see you around, i guess.” you say and before jake can even respond or react, you’re walking away from and out the door. “god, i’m so stupid.” jake says as he once again drops his head in embarrassment.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

you weren’t sure where you were going but you soon found yourself walking along han river. the weather was fairly chilly but your coat provided enough warmth that allowed you to enjoy the air without feeling cold. you find an open spot on the grassy fields that ran alongside han river, the field was filled with families and couples on picnic blankets enjoying food and drinks and the company of their loved ones.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

“i could totally fall asleep here.” you say as you lay down on the blanket that jake had laid out on the grass. the two of you were on a date at han river for your birthday, the weather was perfect for a picnic so he had planned the whole thing, all you needed to do was show up.

“yeah? you wanna take a nap? we totally can!” jake says, encouraging your idea but you laugh it off. wanting to enjoy the day that jake had planned for you as you watched him unpack a basket, laying out all of your favorite food and snacks onto the blanket.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

you’re sat on the plush grass when your eyes start to feel heavy, slowly sliding down onto your back and carefully placing your head onto your arm as a makeshift pillow; drifting off to sleep in the middle of the field with the soothing sounds of han river like a lullaby. the cold night wind whips past your sleeping figure and the cold chill wakes you from your slumber. blinking your eyes a few times, your gaze lands on the stars that are shining in the dark sky and you soon realize that you had been sleeping in the middle of the park.

no other soul was present and although you were a bit fearful that you were alone in the dark at night, your fears were easily brushed away knowing that there wasn’t anyone that could harm you. you pull yourself off the ground and dust your clothes off before heading to your car and back home.

the drive back to your sister’s house wasn’t long but the sleepiness was holding onto you as you drove, fighting off the heaviness in your eyes by blinking rapidly and turning up the music from the radio. thankfully, you weren’t asleep for too long and still had enough time in the night to freshen up before bed, thankful that you didn’t ruin your sleep.

pulling into the driveway, you see an unfamiliar car parked in front of the garage, however, you know you’ve seen it somewhere but due to your sleepy nature it was a bit hard to wrap your brain around where you had seen the car before. you trudged towards the front door after parking your car and just as you’re pushing the door open, you hear your sister arguing with someone in the dining room. you instantly run over to see what all the commotion was and find your sister facing a man whose back is facing you.

he slowly turns around after hearing your footsteps and it turns out to be jake. that’s where you knew where the car is from, you saw his car at your niece’s school, you saw his car at the store, and at the cafe.

“what the fuck is going on?” you ask, irritation in your voice as you look at your sister and jake. why the hell was jake in your sister’s house and why were they arguing?

“tell her, joy…” jake says slowly, averting his gaze to your sister and onto the floor when your sister doesn’t immediately oblige. “yn, look…” she says, approaching and you can’t help but feel nervous as she steps closer to you. joy holds your hands in hers. “y/n… listen to me, ok?” she begins and you can’t help but grow more anxious the longer she stretches out what she’s going to say to you.

“when you got into the accident-” she continues but jake cuts her off. “it was my fault.” he abruptly says and your eyes slightly twitch at his confession. “what’s your fault..?” you ask, unsure if you want to know the answer to your question. “the accident… it happened because of me, ok?” jake confesses and you’re struggling to understand what he could even mean by that.

how could jake be responsible for your accident and you not know a single thing about it…

you force them to continue and to not leave out any details.

“the night of the accident, before you got into your car in the rain and crashed… we got into a fight. it all happened so fast but you stormed out of our apartment and drove off before i could even stop you…” jake recalls and your brain starts to swell as you’re gaining all this new information about the traumatic time in your life.

“jake ran to the hospital as fast he could when i called him-” joy begins to say but you interrupt her. “wait… you were the cause of my accident and you didn’t try to reach out… not once?” you ask jake, confusion turning into anger as more questions brew inside of your head. “you knew… this whole time? since it happened and up until now? you even tried to find your way back into my life and you knew this whole time and witheld this information from me?” you scoff, absolute shock in your voice at the audacity of jake and quite frankly also your sister.

“y/n, please. mom and dad didn’t let him see you. they refused… they didn’t want him anywhere near you after he explained to them what happened.” your sister further explains but it doesn’t fix anything.

jake let you leave that night and didn’t even fight to get you back. you left that night but he was the one who abandoned you.

“you’re both despicable!” you shout, cheeks burning red and veins purtruding on your forehead and neck. “i don’t care what mom and dad think, you, BOTH of you, should’ve never hid this from me…” you say with more anger and as you take a step closer, a wave of nausea washes over you; causing you to stumble.

your body suddenly feels heavy at your feet but your head is light. in a motion to grab your temble, your legs suddenly give out from underneath you and you start to fall; luckily, jake was fast enough to catch you.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

“baby, they hate me! you know this, you can see the way they treat me!” jake says. the two of you were having your monthly argument about your parents and how they’ve never liked him. jake was a good guy, he was ambitious, smart, caring, and loving. everything you wanted and admired about him but your parents only saw the lack of digits in his bank account.

jake wasn’t well off but he took care of himself and his family back home. your parents never approved of your relationship and when he tried to get their blessing for your hand in marriage, they threw a fit. going as far as to ruin the surprise for you and tell you that you’re forbidden to wed jake and that they’d never approve of it.

which only caused you to question their thinking as you knew nothing about wedding, leading to jake’s proposal being spoiled but him not wanting to explain to you the full scope of the issue.

jake wanted your parents blessing for your hand in marriage but they wouldn’t allow it; jake however, had too much pride in himself to face you and ask you to make a decision. either spend the rest of your life with him or choose the path your parents want for you if it meant he would no longer be in the picture. or was he afraid..?

afraid that if he was to ask you this question, there wouldn’t be any doubt or second thought in your mind to leave him because your parents said so.

that’s where you were now, you were trying to get jake to talk to you about why he all of a sudden was so upset over an ordeal with your parents you barely even knew about, but he was too stubborn and would tiptoe around what he really wants to say… until it came out of his mouth in the worst way possible.

“fine! whatever, if you want to be your parent’s little robot for the rest of your life rather than to be happy, then go right ahead. be my guest!” jake says, throwing his hands in the air in frustration and betrayal even if you hadn’t even made any decision yet and had no clue where any of this was coming from. you were, however, hurt. hurt that jake would say something like this to you knowing your history with your parents.

“is that how you really feel?” you ask, your voice low as you bite your bottom lip in an attempt to fight off tears. jake doesn’t respond, not because he has nothing to say, but because he’s afraid that he’ll say the wrong thing.

but you take his silence as a yes. resulting in you storming out of your apartment with jake and to your car, waiting to cry until you get inside the car and drive off. you weren’t sure where you were going but the tears obstructing your vision wasn’t helping the fact that it was suddenly raining an intense amount compared to just moments ago.

you didn’t even have enough time to react before a bright light quickly approaches your vision paired with rapid honking and your memory goes black.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

as you make impact with the car in your dream, you’re jolted awake with a gasp. you’re laying on the couch while joy and jake are intently watching you from across the couch. they both jump to your side when you wake up, asking if you’re okay, and although you’re still quite upst at them, you choose to accept their acts of care and comfort because you know they truly do care for you.

“i’m fine… i just had a really intense dream.” you say as you continue to explain what happened. as you unravel the emotional events of your dream, jake explains to you that it wasn’t a dream and that was what happened the night you got into an accident. swallowing the dryness in your throat, you ask jake if he can give you and your sister a moment.

he slowly glances between the two of you before heading off somewhere, “you can wait in my room, jake.” you say and you watch him head down the stairs to where your bedroom is in the basement.

“what… is happening..?” you ask and she looks at you like you’re a wounded bird. your sister sighs before she unloads everything onto you, explaining the events of your accident up until your recovery, filling in the missing pieces of your mind.

she explains that your parents never liked jake and with him being the cause of the accident, your parents double downed and refused to let him see you. using that as a reason to fuel their hatred for jake, the accident acting as a mask to hide their real reason for their distaste of jake; because he didn’t come from a rich family like you.

the news weighed heavy on your heart, not knowing the sorrow that jake was going through while you were also going through something traumatic. you wished jake was there by your side because it would’ve made everything so much easier. having jake by your side always made things easier for you…

you quickly thanked your sister and gave her a hug before going to find jake in your room. walking down the short stairs felt like eternity as you think about everything that happened. you held so much hatred for jake because he wasn’t there for you but it wasn’t even his fault. you find jake standing by your bed, holding a photo in his hands, “hi, jake.” you say, slightly startling him.

“y/n!! sorry, i didn’t mean to snoop.” he says before setting down the photo where it originally was. it was a photo of you on your birthday, a photo that jake took.”its okay… um.” you begin to say, unsure of what you even want to say to him. “wait… let me go first.” jake says and he takes your silence as a yes before continuing.

“i know that you probably hate me for keeping this from you, but please don’t hate your sister. she was only doing what your parents asked. it was my fault you ran out and drove in the rain that night. i’m sorry for causing you so much hurt and pain and im so sorry for not taking responsibility for it. i wish i could go back to that night and stop you from leaving. i really fucking wish i tried harder…” jake says, biting back tears.

walking over to jake and gently taking his hands in yours while placing another on his cheek; you wipe away a single tear that had broke loose from his lashes. “it’s not your fault jake. please don’t blame yourself…” you say but he disagrees. explaining that none of this would’ve happened if he just chose not to fight or if he stopped you from leaving. “jake, there was no way any of us could’ve known that i would get into an accident that night…” you continue. “the only thing i care about is that i’m alive… and got to see you again.” jake’s eyes met yours when he heard your confession. a sliver of hope brewing inside of him as he believes this could lead to what he’s been wanting to go back to for years.

“but jake… why did you let my parents stop you? couldn’t you have visited when they were there? or tried to see me?” you ask and jakes eyes melt at your question. “y/n, i did. i wrote you a letter everyday and whenever i tried to visit you, security that your parents hired stopped me…” he explains and your heart breaks even more at the idea that your parents hated him so much they wouldn’t even let you see him, going as far as to hire a security guard to stop jake.

you endlessly apologize to jake, tears now running down your eyes as you wrap your arms around him, crying into his chest as he softly rubs your back. “don’t apologize, my love.” he says and your heart instantly flutters at the petname. “can we start over?” you ask, looking up at him and a smile spreads across his face. it’s kind of like you already had a do over a life anyways after waking up from your coma so what’s the difference with starting over with jake. “of course, my love.” he says and you hug one another tightly; not wanting to let go.

jake eventually goes home even though you begged him to say. the only reason you let him leave was because he said he promised to watch a movie with his nephew but he promised to come back tomorrow to take you on your “second first date”. you smiled at his words as you walk him to his car. “thank you for giving me another chance.” jake says. you lean up to give him a kiss on the cheek, “thank you for not giving up on me.” you say before turning on your heel and walking back inside, not seeing jake’s cheeks turn a bright red from your small kiss.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

the next morning, you woke up with a smile on your face as you prepared for your date with jake. after getting ready and putting on a dress in jake’s favorite color, you head upstairs to find your sister in the living room with a box. she’s rummaging inside of it and when she notices your presence, her eyes light up.

“y/n!” she says, waving you over to come closer. “these are all the letters that jake wrote you when you were in the coma.” she says and your mouth falls slightly open, “i would steal them before mom or dad found it and kept them. i forgot about them until last night.” she says andyou just give her a tight hug. in this box were hundreds of letters and jakes days without you. as you began to read them, you found yourself laughing and crying. some letters were emotional with jake writing about the pain of being away from you and not being able to apologize or even get to apologize.

other letters were short and lighthearted where jake would just write about his day and what he ate. often it would just be ramen, his favorite.

you were crying as you read each letter and before you knew it, jake was texting you to say that he was outside; ready to pick you up for your date.

as you walked outside, trying to hide that you were previously crying, jake gives you a small kiss on the cheek, “hey… have you been crying?” he asks and you reassure him that you’re okay. “okay, love. ready for our second first date?” he asks and you nod eagerly, a smile on your face that he hasn’t seen in years and a smile that you haven’t genuinely shown in just as long, maybe even longer. you didn’t know that you could ever feel so happy or feel loved again like before the accident, but getting back together with jake helped you put together your memories again, it was like everything came together like a scrapbook. torn and ripped pages, dried out flowers, and memories that apart don’t mean a lot but when put together, everything makes sense… and with jake by your side; you were finally together again.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

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blakelysco-pilot · 3 days ago

Text

Every Time We Say Goodbye

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Seven Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Valencia is about to learn first-hand that not everything is as it seems. Especially when the horrors of the war threaten to take from her for the first time. Who will be there to pick her up and carry her through, and will friendship alone be enough; especially when her best friend is harboring the secret of a lifetime.

Part Six Follow along with the Eight to The Bar Playlist

Val moved through the house with a smile, dropping her bags by the door and leaving her purse and gloves on the credenza. She could hear a voice coming from the living room, softly speaking without waiting for a reply. Turning the corner, she found Everett holding a small baby, his eyes bright as he kept talking, the baby looking up at him in wonder at each word. Pausing by the door, she stood and watched, her smile never fading.

“Mommy’s going to be home soon, and then, we can tell her all about what we did today… did you miss her while she was out to lunch with the girls? I did too, but I bet she had a great time with your Aunties. We need to make sure we remind her how much we love her, okay? Did you know mommy served in the war? Prettiest girl in East Anglia, but your Uncle Dougie might fight me on that and say it’s your Aunt Olive… Mommy made the best coffee, and she looked so pretty doing it too. Except for when your Uncle Curt would annoy her… he was really great. Did you know, he introduced me to mommy? Sometimes mommy gets sad because she misses him, so we need to remind her of the good stuff…”

No, that couldn’t be right… Curt couldn’t be gone. He wouldn’t just give up that easy; no one had more gusto during the war than he did! Then who had walked her down the aisle? Who…who’s life was she looking at? Surely not her own! Her life included her best friend, no matter how much he annoyed her, he was supposed to be there.

“No…” she whispered, the word muffled as the house around her filled with a rusting noise as she turned and ran back towards the front door, desperate to get out of this life that didn’t belong to her. “No!”

Her eyes flew open, the rustling sound continuing around her as she took in the sight of the Red Cross hut. The side table with the photos of her and her friends, her rosary sitting next to the photo of her and Everett where she had placed it before bed. Helen sleeping in her bed to her left, wrapped up like a caterpillar waiting to emerge as a butterfly, and Olive sitting up in the bed to her right flipping through the pages of a book. So that was what she had heard. Exhaling deeply, she stretched beneath her blankets, arms coming up to test the temperature in the hut.

“Morning Chickie,” she turned to face Olive, the Brit offering her a smile in return. “Up already?”

“You know me…” Olive smiled, closing her book and placing it on her side table.

Sitting up, she swung her legs from under the covers and stood, making her way to the washroom to start her morning routine. As she passed Helen, or what she assumed was Helen beneath the blankets, she gave her a shake to rouse her as well, so that the three of them could start their day.

“Nooo…” the Helen shaped blankets whined, burrowing deeper into the pillows. “Not yet… I was just about to have my big kiss with Jimmy Stewart!”

“You can kiss Jimmy Stewart at bedtime!” Val hollered from the sink, her voice muffled as she washed her face. “Right now, Herbert Nash is waiting for you to serve him coffee and wish him good morning!”

“Oh,” Helen giggled, untangling herself from the blankets. She was wrapped so tightly, Olive had to come and give her a hand. “Uh, Olive, can you uh…”

“Jeez, Helen, how tight tight did you wrap up last night Chicken, it wasn’t that cold!”

“No, but it’s so cozy. Like being held and soothed to sleep.”

“Oh, I see, you were dreaming of your sweet flyboy.”

“Olive!”

“I’m just saying,” she shrugged with a grin, watching as Helen joined Val in the washroom. “I bet it was a real nice dream too, especially when Jimmy Stewart swooped in.”

“That’s what happens when you read magazines before bed,” Val laughed, coming back into the main hut to get dressed. “Romanced by Nash and a Hollywood star.”

“And who were you dreaming of, hmm?” Helen begged the question, peeking around the wall of the washroom, toothbrush in hand. Val glanced over her shoulder as she pulled on her blouse before replying.

“Who do you think,” Val teased, not ready to give up the dream turned nightmare that seemed more like a bad omen than anything else. “Cary Grant.”

“Oooh!” Both girls teased her, their laughter filling the hut as they continued to get ready for their day, and for a moment, she forgot about the dream, and what it might have meant.

They carried on with the start of their day, dressing and quickly pulling the blankets up on the beds so that the hut wasn’t messy. Once Val was in front of the mirror, digging through her cosmetics bag, the door swung open to reveal Tattie, a small box in hand and a smile on her face.

“Morning girls!” She greeted them, setting the box down on the nearest side table, digging into it with one hand.

“Morning chickie,” Val turned, zipping the jacket of her jumpsuit halfway. “Presents?”

“New uniform requirements,” Tattie shrugged. “Don’t ask me why but, we’ve got dog tags now.”

“Dog tags?”

“Yes, so don’t lose them please.”

Handing Val her chain, the brunette inspected the two tags hanging from the thin metal chain, the second tag hanging from a smaller chain, lower than the first.

“Perfect! One for me and one for Ev!” She beamed, pulling it over her head with care not to disrupt her hair, before tucking it into her blouse.

“Oh! Olive,” Tattie called to her, Olive turning on the spot as Tattie tossed her a set of tags. “It’s official. We’re keeping you.”

“Like you had much of a choice, Spaatz.” Olive grinned, looking over her tags with awe before following Val’s lead and putting them on.

“Something like that.” Tattie winked, handing Helen her tags as well.

“Helps to have a dad in high places doesn’t it?” Val teased, grabbing her cigarettes and old lighter with one hand, and her rosary with her other. Once all three items were secured inside her pockets, she linked arms with Olive and gestured to the door.

“Shall we?”

“Come on Chicken,” Olive beamed. “I suspect there’s two men hankering for a coffee and a good morning kiss out there.”

“Helen? Are you coming or waiting for Jimmy Stewart?” Val teased, reaching her arm back to gesture to her friend.

“Oh you’re so funny,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing Val’s hand and heading out the door with both her and Olive, Tattie right on their heels. “You’ll never let me live it down, will you!”

“We will, don’t worry.” Val chuckled.

“After you’ve had a proper song with Herbert Nash.” Olive grinned wickedly, wiggling her eyebrows as she looked at Helen.

“And who says I haven’t!”

“Helen!”

“What? He’s very charming!”

Pulling open the door, the four girls are met with the thickest smog to ever grace East Anglia, at least, that’s what it felt like.

“They can’t fly in this!” Val crowed, turning to Tattie with a worried look in her eye, as if hoping the woman had an answer. “Chicky’s got to ground them, right?”

“I don’t know, Valencia,” Tattie gave her hand a squeeze in solidarity, letting her know she shared the same worry. “For now, let’s just do what they need us to, hmm?”

“Okay… come on then. Coffee’s not going to brew itself.”

“I made the first batch of sinkers on the early shift.”

“You love the early shift, don’t ya Tat.” Olive teased from Val’s other side.

“It’s not so bad.” she grinned, and Val could see a hint of something simmering beneath the surface; but that was something for another time.

Approaching the Clubmobile, Val could just make out four figures leaning against the side. As they got closer she could see that it was Jack Kidd, Dougie, Herbert Nash and Everett. The boys were smoking and chatting amongst themselves, the three veteran flyboys appeared to be giving Nash the lowdown on how mornings usually unfolded on base.

“Excuse me fellas.” Everett tossed his cigarette down before pushing off the truck and making his way to Val.

Quickly untangling her arm from Olive’s and breaking away from the other three girls, Valencia met Everett halfway, falling into him with ease as he pressed his lips to hers in greeting. They kept it clean, aware of their friends being so near to them, before pulling away slowly.

“Good morning…”

“Hmm, good morning,” Val grinned, her thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth. “You got a little something…”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, and we don’t need Chicky seeing you with lipstick all over your face.”

“No,” he laughed, giving her thumb a quick kiss before she pulled back. “I don’t need a chewing out this early in the day.”

“If he can even find you in this soup.” She frowned, taking his hands, her grip trying not to come across as desperate, regardless of how she felt.

“Red’s got eyes in his ass, they’ll find us.”

His fingers brushed back a few strands of her hair that had fallen victim to the early morning breeze, his thumb grazing her temple. His big, hazel eyes went wide for a moment, looking over her shoulder to find his friends all in similar positions. He clocked Dougie and Olive, his bombardier had his better half pressed up against the side of the truck as he kissed her good morning, while Helen was giggling at something Nash had said, the fresh pilot looking a little too rigid with the higher ranking officers around him. And Tattie and Jack were, well he wasn’t sure, but they were talking softly and he had some strange look in his eye that Ev couldn’t quite place.

“So, what’s brought this on hmm?”

“Ran into Nash last night walking back from your hut. He had caught up with Rosie so we all went back together,” Ev gestured over his shoulder. “We thought it might be nice to surprise you before the day got started.”

“And Jack?”

“He sort of just tagged along… not sure what that’s about.”

“I have a pretty good idea,” Val grinned. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“You think…?” He wrapped his arms around her, swaying her in place.

“Oh absolutely,” she laughed, arms sliding up the back of his leather jacket. “Jack’s got a twinkle in his eye.”

“You have a twinkle in your eye.” His face pressed into the crook of her shoulder, his eyes closing against her cheek, lashes tickling her gently.

“I wonder why that is.”

His reply was cut short by Olive hollering that the coffee was done, Dougie front and center at the window so he could get his first cup.

“No sugar, please, lovey.”

Val could just see the blush on Olive’s face at the nickname, shaking her head as she climbed into the truck to help her serve the boys.

“Oh, you like that one!” Dougie looked triumphant, taking the coffee from Olive with a grin.

“That one?”

“I’m trying out nicknames,” he explained, waving at Val. “Olive likes that one, I can tell.”

“Everett,” Val turned to her boyfriend, passing over his coffee. “Please don’t try any new nicknames for me, okay?”

“I gotcha,” he laughed. “Besides, we tested out sweet cheeks and you hated it.”

“Still hate it,” she grimaced. “Sounds funny and, dunno, just not like you.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I remember.”

“Ah, better.” She smiled, clocking two small boys running across the field from the hardstand at breakneck speed, laughing the whole way.

“Incoming,” Helen laughed, side stepping and pulling Nash with her.

“Who’s kids are those?” He asked, looking around at the group.

“Billy and Sammy,” Helen replied, pointing out each respectively. “Local boys who’ve taken a shine to Kenny and Winks.”

“The ground crew fellas, right?”

“Right. They came by one day while the two of them were working and we haven’t been able to shake em since.”

“Colonel Harding’s okay with that?”

“He doesn’t mind much,” Tattie patted Nash on the shoulder as she moved behind him to join Olive and Val in the truck. “As long as they don’t get in the way of work, and they’re behaved, he’s fine.”

The two young boys almost ran head first into the Clubmobile, Everett reaching his arm out to catch Sammy from falling as he tripped.

“Woah, Sammy! Easy pal!”

“Sorry Captain Ev!” The young boy giggled as Everett ruffled his hair, and Val couldn’t help but recall the better part of her dream that was Ev and the baby, and the gentle nature he had taken.

“Are you two behaving?” He looked down at them much like a parent would, but a teasing smile on his face.

“Yeah!” They chorused, hoping it was convincing enough.

“Alright, well, go on, I think Miss Olive has something for you.”

Olive had two fresh donuts on a piece of kitchen roll for them, and Val could practically see their mouths watering at the sight. She quickly grabbed two of the smaller mugs from under the counter and filled them with milk before topping them off with some of the coffee; a little something to make the kids feel like they were grown ups. Something her Nonna used to do back home, but with slightly less milk and definitely more coffee.

“Alright boys, careful,” Val leaned down with the two cups, their small hands grabbing at them eagerly before realizing she had made them a coffee. “And don’t tell your Ma! It’s our secret.”

“Wow! Coffee!” Billy’s eyes grew wide, his mouth pulled wide in a smile up at Val.

“What do you say, hmm fellas?” Dougie ruffled their hair as he passed them by.

“Thank you Miss Val and Miss Olive!” They cheered before running back towards the hardstands.

“You gave two hyper kids coffee? Jeez Val!”

“Oh relax, it’s mostly milk.”

“Oh! Well, that’s smart of you.” Olive grinned.

“Right,” Val winked. “Not just a pretty face.”

“The prettiest, though,” Ev winked, passing his half smoked cigarette to her through the hatch with a smile. “Morning Maude. Did we lose Doug?”

“Ernest,” Olive teased, looking out at where Dougie had just been standing with the boys. “He was just here, I’m not sure where he is actually.”

“Okay sourpuss, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Ev grinned, gesturing to the figure approaching in the fog.

“There he is!” Olive breathed, leaving the truck to meet him halfway.

Val remained in the truck with Tattie, the two brunettes leaning on the open hatch to talk to their friends while Doug had pulled Olive to the side to talk privately.

“Still can’t believe you gave those kids coffee,” Tattie laughed. “Even the slightest bit!”

“Oh stop, my Nonna used to give me coffee when I was their age. It’s nothing.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense.” Jack looked up at her, half smile on his face.

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Just one of those things.” He shrugged as she passed him his own cup.

“I don’t think much of it. Those kids’ll be drinking it eventually, it may as well come from adults who are watching them.”

“Did your Nonna give Biddick coffee when he was a kid, too?” Helen asked.

“Absolutely not!” Val roared, laughing at the look on Helen’s face. “That boy does not need anything else, he’s hyper enough.”

The laughter of the group filled the foggy space around the truck, casually sipping their morning coffee and picking on the first few donuts that had been set out. Nash looked like it was a privilege to be among the group, sticking close to Helen even though the other boys had done a good job at making him feel welcome.

“Doug! You need smokes?” Ev called from his perch outside the hatch of the Clubmobile. Val was handing him down two packs, not waiting for Doug to answer.

“Thanks Val,” Doug grinned, tipping his imaginary hat at her as he came back from where he was with Olive, the girl now wearing an oversize jacket that Val made a mental note to ask her about later. “You sure know me well.”

“Kind of my job, Dougie.”

He was about to respond, mouth open and eyes wide with what was sure to be a smart ass remark, when Chick Harding’s voice cut through their morning reprieve. The Colonel came marching across the grass, hands on his hips as he stopped in front of the truck.

“Alright you lot, briefings about to start let’s go!”

He waved both Ev and Doug away and into the hut, giving Jack a good natured shove in the same direction. He appraised Nash quickly, the new pilot taking one look at the Colonel and dashing off in the other direction without more than a wave goodbye to Helen.

“Replacement?” Chick looked over his shoulder where Nash had run off, an amused look on his face.

“Yes, Chicky,” Val sighed from the window. “His name is Nash.”

“Valencia…” he warned, all the annoyance of a dad who loved his daughter present as he looked up at her.

His face softened as she placed his coffee on the ledge of the hatch, fixed perfectly, and a second cup for Red Bowman next to it.

“Thank you.” he gave her a half sheepish smile, the brunette in the truck shaking her head at him even as she handed him two donuts.

“That one’s for Red, and here, eat something for Christ sake.”

“We ate already.”

“Don’t lie to us, Chick, I was up early and I saw you and Bowman in the tower, not the mess hall.” Tattie turned on him, her own scowl present.

“Fine, we’ll eat,” he sighed. “Thank you. Now, can I get you girls to close up the truck and come with me please?”

“What?”

“Briefing hut, all of you, please.”

“Chicky…”

“Miss Tattie, we’ll tell ya when you get inside. Now come on.”

Val turned to Tattie, her own face a mirror image, while Helen stood nervously on the grass.

“Alright, you three, let’s close it up for now.” Tattie gestured to the girls, the confusion not ebbing as they followed Harding’s orders.

“Take the dang dog on your way in, would ya? Don’t need him out here unsupervised.”

Val dusted off her jumpsuit before climbing down from the truck, looping her arm with Helen, who was still standing in place on the grass. Olive had run ahead to meet Benny at the door of the briefing hut to take Meatball from him.

“You don’t think…” Helen’s voice was a whisper, and laced with nerves. “Do you think he knows about Nash and me?”

“Oh Helen, if he was mad about that, he wouldn’t tell you in the briefing hut.”

“I mean, I know we’re technically not supposed to have relationships with the men, but we see them every day!”

“Helen, if you think Red and Chicky don’t already know…” Val laughed, remembering how Red’s voice had boomed across the tannoy the night before, hollering for Dougie to get to bed.

“Oh, Bowman has eyes in his ass!” Olive joined their conversation, now with Meatball dutifully at her side.

“Eww!” Helen shuddered with a laugh.

“It’s a stupid rule anyway,” Tattie joined them, coming up on Helen’s other side. “How can they expect us not to get close to these boys!”

“Tattie Spaatz, defying the rules?” Val balked. “Why I never thought I’d see the day!”

“You hush,” she turned to her, voice stern but eyes glimmering with something mischievous. “Come on, let’s see what this is all about hmm?”

The girls entered the briefing hut, all passing by Red at the door as he greeted them with a tight smile.

“Spaatz, DiRosano, Porter, Lewis,” he addressed them all by their last names, only rarely ever using their first names. “Come on in girls.”

They followed him further into the hut, the men around them talking amongst themselves. The chatter in the room filled the large space, all of them seemingly doing their best to ignore that a mission was quite literally looming overhead, and that tomorrow, some of these faces may not be here to laugh with. Val tried not to think about it too hard, especially with so many of the faces being her friends and more.

“Okay, Chick, why are we here?” Tattie’s arms were folded under her bust, and suddenly it was General Spaatz’s daughter staring down Colonel Chick Harding, cigar wedged between his lips and all.

“Need to make sure that dang mutt doesn’t get lost in here again.”

“You hardly need four of us to watch Meatball, he’s not that bad.”

“Alright, fine,” Chick sighed, beckoning the four of them closer. “Bowman, tell em.”

“This is a big one girls,” Red sighed. “And we’re not blind to the fact that some of you have gotten close to some of the men, and we feel it’s unfair to keep you in the dark.”

“How big?” Olive squeaked.

“Big, Lewis. Real big.”

Olive nodded, the hand not holding Meatball’s leash grabbing at Val, her nails digging in unintentionally.

“You know we’ll find out anyway, but you think it’s better if we hear it first hand.”

“Exactly.”

“It doesn’t lessen the worry, Red.”

“No, Valencia, I suppose it doesn’t, but, somewhere along the way you four got under everyone’s skin here and the fellas all love ya, they respect the hell outta ya’s and well, Chick and I feel the same.”

“Chick Harding is going soft, girls.” Tattie smirked, but nodded at the man in front of her just the same.

“I ain’t soft, Spaatz.” He groaned, cigar smoke pluming around him as he spoke.

“Alright Chicky, you’re not soft,” she conceded. “Where do you want us to sit?”

“In the back, if you don’t mind.”

“Come on girls, let’s find some chairs hmm?”

“And no balls!” Chick called after them, prompting a

shrill whine to erupt from Meatball, several of the men in the room turning to look at him, the rumble of laughter and the dog's name filling the room.

Making her way towards the back with the girls, Val doesn’t register the presence of someone behind her until his voice cuts above the rest, loud and full of energy.

“There she is! There’s the gal!”

“My god, Curt, do you ever just, I don’t know, say hello like a normal person?”

“Now why would I do that?” He grinned, pulling her into a hug on the spot.

“No you’re right, why would you.” She rolled her eyes, hugging him back regardless.

“Hey, what are yous doing in here? This ain’t your usual spot.”

“Chicky wanted us in on this one,” her voice now lowered so that only he could hear her. “It’s big, and they don’t want us hearing anything second hand.”

“Well, you gals should be included! You’re damn important if ya ask me.”

“Thanks, Curt, but we’re still only Red Cross. I only know so much because Chicky can’t type to save his life.”

“Yea well, yous should know more,” he grinned, pulling out his cigarettes. “And not just cause me and the rest of the fellas tell you.”

“Curt,” Olive joined them, the pilot throwing an arm over her shoulders in greeting. “Want me to save you a seat?

“Heya English,” he gave her a squeeze before letting her go. “Thanks, but Dickie’s got us chairs up front with your boys.”

“Ah, grand!” Olive gave his arm a friendly pat before tugging on Meatball’s lead to head back to the seats the girls were occupying.

“I’ll see ya after, gal. Have a coffee ready for me!”

“Pain in the ass!” Val called after him as he walked away, taking the seat on the end of a row, Dickie to his right.

Just as Dickie offered a wave from his spot, Val spotted Everett, Doug and Croz in the row behind them, Everett’s hazel eyes going wide at seeing her in the briefing room before spotting the other girls behind her. She shrugged and his brows furrowed, just as the officer at the door called for attention, and every single man in the room stood as Chicky made his way to the front with Red at his side. The girls quickly hurried to the four chairs at the back of the room, Val taking the seat next to Olive, who was trying to settle Meatball. The husky seemed annoyed that all of his friends were in one room and no one would play with him, and kept whining at Olive’s feet. At the front of the room, Chick Harding commanded attention, and Val couldn’t help but feel rooted to the spot as the whole room focused on him. Next to her, Olive was petting Meatball, shushing him as quietly as she could until finally, his head came to rest on her lap.

“What’s up?” Val turned to her, her right hand scratching between his ears.

“He’s just moping because all his friends are here and no one will play.”

At the mere mention of the word play, Meatball began huffing and whining again, looking between Olive and Val to see which one would start their game first.

“Not now buddy,” Olive spoke in hushed tones, trying to keep him quiet. “After, I promise.”

“Meatball…” Val warned, trying her hand at quieting him down. “Stai zitto, questo è importante.”

Be quiet, this is important.

“Aww he’s just a baby,” Helen came from Olive’s other side, reaching for the dog who was now lapping up all the attention. “He doesn’t mean it.”

“Girls,” Tattie’s whisper fell over the three of them. “Quiet, or Chicky is going to regret ever asking us in here.”

“Today, the mighty eighth will be sending up a max effort of three air task forces, totaling 376 heavy bombers and 240 fighters!” Chicky’s voice carried through the room, all of the men cheering like it was a football game. “That’s the largest air armada ever assembled in the history of mankind!”

Val caught the excitement from the corner of the room where her friends sat, both Everett and Doug, and Curt and Dickie shared a shout of excitement before focusing back on the Colonel at the front of the room.

“We will be in the first task force, targeting a Messerschmitt 109 engine assembly plant in Regensburg,” he announced, the men around him scribbling notes. “The second and third task forces will hit the ball bearing factories in Schweinfurt, because no war machine moves without em!”

Val noticed that Chick looked proud, and it was a foreign expression to see on the man. Normally she’d see him grumbling and complaining about this or that, the dog, the coffee and what have you. But this, he seemed infinitely proud of his men, and the Hundredth. When he mentioned that there were an infinite number of lives they could save if this mission went off as planned, the men in the room fell into a hush, talking quietly amongst themselves, presumably to determine who might be leading this, and she couldn’t help but pick up rumbling of both the names Egan and Cleven the most.

Chicky called for their attention, his arm gesturing to the curtain behind him which the Corporal dutifully pulled back, revealing a map, and a route that looked terribly long, at least to her untrained eye. Whistles and groans replaced the hushed awe of just moments ago, and she just picked up on Harry Crosby groaning oh boy as he caught sight of what he would surely have to navigate his crew through.

“Bowman.”

Taking his cue, Red stepped in for Chick, coming to stand in front of the map before he began speaking, his New England accent filling the room as he addressed the men.

“It’s a three punch combo,” he began, arm coming out to trace the first of three colored strings. “And the Luftwaffe will only be able to defend one of them!”

“Uh, Major?” Curt’s voice, quieter than everyone, especially Val was used to, interrupted Red Bowman’s speech. “Why’s that red line go all the way down through Africa?”

“Well, that is a characteristically astute question Curt, and I’ll get to that in a minute if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah yeah, go on and laugh…” Curt groaned, sliding down in his seat as the room broke into peals of laughter.

Val just managed to catch Everett leaning forward in his seat to flick the pencil from behind Curt’s ear in what could only be described as sibling banter, one pilot to another as he mumbled a drawn out fuuuuck you to Curt before both of them turned to see her shaking her head in exasperation. Like a mother whose children had exhausted her, Val pointed up to the front of the room, making sure they both focused on what Red was still talking about- second task force turning around, rearming and refueling, enemy territory, ME109’s until finally, a single sentence put the whole room into near deafening silence.

“You’re going to Africa, gentlemen.”

“Val… Val did he say Africa?”

“Yea, he said Africa, Ol…”

“Dear god,” the Brit whispered from her spot next to her, one hand gripping Val’s with such force, she could feel her leaving small crescents in the skin of her palm, while the other was still buried in Meatball’s fur. “Why…why Africa… it’s so far…”

“Olive, hey, chickie, calm down, it’s alright.”

“I don’t like this.”

Olive was borderline shaking in her seat, her eyes wide as they continued to listen to Red talk about the boys landing in Africa and linking up with the 12th who had promised ice cold beer. A holiday. With the fog outside not letting up, Val couldn’t help but wonder exactly how Chick and Red expected the boys to get up in the air safely, never mind General LeMay and his plan for them. It just didn’t seem safe. Olive’s nerves seemed to confirm that, her fear now on full display in the back of the room.

“Tattie…” Val whispered, leaning over towards her to pinch her arm. “Give me your flask.”

“Val…”

“Give it here, please.” She gestured to Olive, and Tattie handed it over to her after a single glance at the girl, her eyes softening.

“Ol, drink.”

“What?”

“Come on, drink, it’ll settle your nerves.”

Olive takes the flask from her, taking a generous sip before passing it back to Val, who also takes a generous sip. When Tattie pulls it from her grasp with a roll of her eyes, she can’t help but wonder if what she suspects is going on between her and Jack Kidd has her just as rattled. Half expecting her to take a sip as well, Val watches as Tattie slips it back into her pocket before pulling out her cigarettes and lighting one.

“Major Kidd will be command pilot in Blakely’s fort-” Chicky announced.

“Oh god… they’re leading them all into this soup.” Val murmured, dropping her head back.

“Major Egan will be riding with Captain Cruikshank as…reserve command pilot of the group.”

“What the hell is a reserve command pilot?” Helen furrowed her brows, her gentle expression turned somewhat sour.

“I think it means Egan didn’t want to be left out.”

“When does he ever.”

“Gentlemen, good luck, and I’ll see you in a couple of days. Dismissed!”

As the men in the room stand to exit, Tattie stands and begins leading the girls from the hut, and like ducks in a row, they follow her. Olive is behind Val, one hand holding Meatball’s lead and the other still gripping onto Val’s wrist; mostly so she didn’t get lost in the shuffle of bodies leaving the room. As they approach the door, she spots Ev waiting for her, arms folded over his chest, cigarette between his lips, cheeky grin on his face.

“And why were you four in there?” He throws his arm over Val’s shoulder as she approaches, guiding her out of the hut as Dougie does the same with Olive.

“Chicky invited us…”

“He did? Why?”

“Said we deserved to know about this one.” Her voice sounded small, and so unlike her, even to her own ears.

“And now that you know?” Ev stopped just outside the truck, taking her hands in his.

“It’s Africa, Everett…”

“Yeah,” he sighed, and could feel her anxiety over the situation rolling off her in waves. This is why he felt the way he did about her being in the briefing room the last time, except now, Colonel Harding had asked her to be in there and he could hardly fight it. “I can’t say I’m thrilled with the location either.”

“It’s bad enough when you’re up for a few hours, but this? Days?”

“Hey, come here,” guiding her off to the side of the truck, behind the open doors off the back, he hoped she’d tell him what was really eating at her. “Talk to me, what’s going on hmm?”

She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about the dream from that morning. About how she dreamt of their future, their child, but that something -someone- was missing entirely from that almost perfect scenario. In telling him, would she be giving that nightmarish fear of losing her oldest friend an escape from her mind and setting it loose upon reality? Would it scare him? Make him more nervous than he already was? Or, would it give him more reasons to fight, and fly so safely and smoothly that he’d come back to her, and lead the rest of their friends home safely too?

“Want you to take this,” she chose against the former, reaching into the collar of her blouse and instead, pulling out her new dog tags. “One for you and one for me.”

“You have tags now?”

“Got them this morning,” she confirmed, yanking the lower hanging one from the chain. “I can’t go up with you, so this is the next best thing.”

“You know I take you up with me every time, right?”

“In your heart, the same way Curt told me he takes me up with him, yes.”

“Yes, in my heart,” he grinned, taking the tag from her hand and swiftly pulling his own out from his collar. “But also, in the red braid you’ve so securely tied to my wrist.”

He pulled his own extra tag from his chain, putting the one with her name in its place before handing her the one with his name. Blakely, Everett E. The significance of carrying each other's names wasn’t lost on her, and she knew that if he was giving her back the same weight that her name carried to him, with his own, that there was stock to be taken in that dream. More stock in the good, and less in the fears she was projecting in losing someone she loved.

“Also, I do take you with me,” he tucked his tags back into his shirt, before pulling out a small photograph from the breast pocket of his flight suit and handing it to her. “See? You go everywhere with me, baby.”

It was a photo she hadn’t ever seen of herself before, but could tell you exactly where it had been taken. The night in the officers club after Curt had been announced safe in Scotland- one too many cocktails had her perched comfortably in Ev’s lap, but he wasn’t in the picture. It was just her, and she was looking over at someone else and grinning, her bottom lip snugly between her teeth as she tried not to cackle with laughter, her eyes dancing with mirth.

“When did you sneak this?” She looked up at him, the picture between two of her fingers in place of her usual cigarette as she waved it in his face, eyes and lips mimicking the frozen image of herself.

“Don’t you worry about when,” Ev plucked it back from her, tucking it safely away over his heart, and then pulled her close. “Just remember, you’re with me every single day, even if I’m not on the ground.”

“Please,” pressing her face into his chest, breathing him in, committing it to memory. “Please don’t do anything stupid, and protect each other, all of you.”

“You know I won’t get reckless,” he pressed his lips to the crown of her head, uncaring of the hairspray she had set it with. “I’ve got too much at stake here on the ground to risk getting reckless.”

“As much as it pains me to say it, listen to Jack.”

“I will… you behave here while I’m gone, yeah? No getting up to mischief with the girls.”

“No promises.” She grinned, peeking up at him before standing on her toes to press her lips to his.

“Yeah, even in this soup I saw that coming a mile away,” shaking his head, he kissed her back, knowing that time was ticking away and his crew would be heading for the hardstand soon. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Pulling away, they turned to head back to the front of the truck so that she could carry on with work and he could get his coffee before leaving, when Curt rounded the corner wild eyed and looking for trouble.

“There ya are! Oh, Val!” He called in a singsong voice. “You promised me a coffee!”

“You demanded coffee,” giving his shoulder a shove, he let out a y laugh at her fiery behavior. “There’s three other girls in the truck, Curtis.”

“Curtis?! Ouch!”

“Serves you right.”

“I’d like to be served coffee, maybe a donut for good measure.”

“You are a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Yeah I know,” he grinned. “Are you good? Is she good?”

Yeah, I’m okay,” Val nodded. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m good… got my bracelet and everything,” lifting his wrist; he wiggled it so both Val and Ev could see . “It broke the other day but I tied it back on.”

“CURT! No! You’re not supposed to, you know that!”

“It’s fine, gal!”

“I don’t have time to make you a new one…”

“You don’t gotta, it’s fine!”

She knew the distress on her face was evident when Everett stepped between her and Curt. She watched as he dropped a hand to Curt’s shoulder fixing him with a look that said he ought to know better than to mess around with what Val considered to be sacred.

“Curt, even I know you don’t mess around with that.”

“Ah, it’s not the first time I tied it back on myself, won’t be the last,” Curt grinned, slipping out from under Ev’s grip and heading to the window of the Clubmobile. “Now how about that coffee for the road?”

With a roll of her eyes at Curt and a quick kiss to Ev’s cheek, Val climbs back into the truck where Helen is pouring coffee and passing out smokes and snacks to the boys lined up dutifully at the window. Tattie is a few feet away on the grass trying to pry Olive and Dougie apart with a soft smile, knowing they both have jobs to do regardless of the nervous energy swirling around the base. She hears Olive tell Doug that she’ll fix him a snack for the road, and sets about doing the same for Everett and the rest of the Just A Snappin crew.

“Ev, what do you and the crew need for the trip?” She leans out the window, handing him another coffee and a donut. She knows that like many of the boys, he’s not the biggest fan of the powdered eggs, and usually chooses not to eat them before a flight. “Curt! Get out of the truck!”

“How’d you even know it was me?” He grumbled, jumping down from the back of the truck to join the rest of the guys on the grass. DeMarco, who had been walking towards the truck with his crew, turned and raised his coffee in a salute, laughing at the put out look on Curt’s face.

“Busted, Biddick!” Benny shouted.

“Okay, okay. You,” Val gestured to Curt, holding out two coffees, and gesturing with a nod of her head to the two donuts on the window. “Take these, and the donuts, they’re for you and Dickie.”

“Thanks gal! Love you!” He grinned,grabbed his provisions, and blew her a cheeky kiss before running off to join his crew, uncaring of the coffee sloshing over the side of his cup.

“A mess,” she shook her head. “Now, what do you need, handsome?”

“You gave me smokes before,” he smiles, lifting the coffee to his lips. “Not sure what the rest of my boys need though, and I know Olive has Dougie all squared away.”

“Well, take another pack of smokes, and if the crew needs anything, send em over.”

“Thanks baby,” he grinned, turning to face the rest of the men on his crew with a soft authority that Val knew was the reason they all respected him so much. “Alright boys, if you need anything, go see Val so she can set you up!”

————————————————————

“Meatball, no! Uh, Olive a little help please?”

Looking out the window, Val found Helen on the ground, Meatball pawing at her excitedly as he mistook her securing him to the pole for playtime. The poor girl was dusting off his fur and trying not to sneeze as Olive came around the front to help her, laughing as she pulled the husky from Helen’s lap.

“Helen, you know how he gets…”

“He only listens to you and DeMarco.” She grumbled, wincing as Meatball let loose a howl at the mere mention of his favorite human’s name.

“Oh now look what you started,” Val groaned. “You know saying Benny’s name gets him all wild.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Helen sighed, standing and trying to get all the grass and husky fur off her uniform. “Meatball, he can’t hear you from here boy!”

“He doesn’t know that.” Olive chuckled, securing the leash just as a jeep came to a screeching halt, startling the girls and the dog.

“Garcia,” Val addressed the man behind the wheel, lighting a cigarette and coming around the front of the truck to join Helen and Olive. “What can we do for you?”

“Just stopping by to let you know the fellas have got a thirty minute delay.”

“Not surprising in this shit.” She gestured to the fog still swirling around them.”

“If you girls wanted to drop them another hot coffee and cheer em up… maybe say goodbye again.” He suggested, gesturing subtly to the empty seats in his jeep.

“Say less!” Olive grinned, unhooking Meatball and guiding him towards the jeep.

“Give me two minutes, let me put a bag together for them.” Val smiled, turning back towards the truck. She had two coffees and a bag of donuts ready in record time, jumping into the jeep with Olive as Tattie and Helen waved them off from the Clubmobile with a smile.

“Step on it Garcia!” Val calls up to him with a laugh. “They’ll take the news better if it comes from us!”

“You got that right, DiRosano,” he laughed. “They sure like looking at you two more than they like looking at me!”

Without another word, Garcia steps on the gas, the jeep and its occupants beginning their journey through the mist. Meatball whined from his spot between Olive and Val, no doubt picking up the scents of all the fellas who had been driven out the same way on their trucks only a short while ago. Even with the headlights on, the road ahead was barely visible, and Val wasn’t sure how Garcia was managing it, maybe it was muscle memory, but she just hoped he got them to the hardstand in one piece.

“It’s a real pea-souper, this one.” Garcia huffed, turning to avoid the hardstand of another fort that Val wasn’t able to identify. “Do you reckon they’ll call it off?” Olive practically begged, hoping for the answer she wanted to hear. “Not a chance, Lewis,” he sighed a bit apologetically. “This is a big one. Brass are taking a lotta risks and–well, I’d better zip it.” “It’s nothing I won’t find out in a few weeks when I’m typing reports for Chicky,” Val retorts, reaching around to pet Meatball. “No need to keep it quiet.”

“Sorry, Val, force of habit to zip my lips and all…”

“It’s fine, Garcia, we know. We were in the briefing room this morning.”

“Yeah? God, The Brass must really like you ladies… I think everyone on this base likes you ladies actually.”

Not sure what else to say, the trio continues to drive in silence, Garcia seeming to have run out of polite conversation within a few moments. The brakes screech as they come to a stop, and Val looks up to find the all too familiar silhouette of Just A Snappin looming in the distance, the plane somehow even more intimidating now, as opposed to the night she had been out here with Everett, and only the headlights of a jeep illuminated her. The fog almost completely covered it, and even though she could just see the nose in the distance, it felt tremendous.

“Alright you three, this is your stop.”

“Thanks Garcia!”

Jumping from the jeep, careful of the coffees in her hands, donuts having been passed to Olive earlier, she watches as Meatball bounds away into the mist, the dog gone in a flash.

“Damnit, where’d he go!”

“Probably to find DeMarco…”

“Great, that’ll be fun later.”

“Maybe Kenny and Wink will find him before we do.” Olive chuckled, looping her arm through Val’s as they began walking closer to the fort.

“Chickie, I can see through this haze just as well as you can.” “This is so we don’t lose each other.” Olive laughs in return, resting her head on Val’s shoulder for a short second. “Ol, that’ll never happen. I promise.” Val smiled, though Olive couldn’t see it, and dropped her head to her friends for a moment.

They walk silently, arm in arm and careful not to bump a tire, or the wing as their steps take them closer to the fort. Val catches a glance of Olive trying, in vain, to wrap her jacket around her with her free hand, and realizes she’s never seen Olive wearing it before. It’s too big for the other woman, and littered in various patches and insignias. Yes, it must belong to Douglass.

“Dougie’s?” Val asks, gesturing with her elbow to the jacket. .

“Yeah! Sewed all these on himself,” Olive beams at her. “Ain't it neat?”

“He…he did…Sewed…himself?” Val practically balks, turning to Olive with her eyes wide.

“Yeah!”

“Ol, I've been sewing all of his patches and clothes!” Val exclaims, green eyes wide. “Ever since Ev and I started seeing each other, I’ve taken care of all the guys in their fort.”

“Oh?”

“Wait till I get my hands on him...” She sighed as they approached the fort, ducking under the wing to find both their men, and select members of the crew laying about on the hardstand.

“Well lookie here!” Dougie exclaimed, standing as he spotted the girls approaching. Ev, who had been leaning back against the wheel, scrambling to stand upon spotting Val. “What are you two doing all the way out here?”

“Garcia wanted us to share some news.” Olive grinned, glancing at Val.

“Yeah? Well, let’s have it then.”

“Thirty minute delay!” They both yelled at the same time, Olive doing a little wiggle of her hands and hips to try and make it entertaining.

Both boys immediately fell into laughter, even Charlie Via joining in from where he was still on the ground. Somehow, Val knew it wasn’t just about making their boys laugh, but the whole crew.

“Is The Clubmobile serving snacks and putting on a show now, Maude?” Everett grinned, throwing an arm over Val’s shoulder as she kissed him on the cheek, his coffee still in her hand.

“Hey, get it for free while you can.” Olive winked, taking Dougie’s coffee from Val and handing it over. “Olive and The Clubmobile Gals,” Val smiled. “It’s got some jazz to it!”

“You gonna be a star, Maude? Take care of all of us?”

“You bet, Ernest.” She laughs as Dougie wraps his arms around her waist and gives her a squeeze before stopping in his tracks at the wild look Val is giving him.

“Uh, Val?”

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you James Douglass…”

“Uhm, can you leave my bones? I need to drop bombs in a few hours and well, I need them.”

“Oh, you’re in trouble baby.” Olive titters, hand covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her giggle.

“You! Sewing!”

“Oh… yeah, heh… well, I know when I’ve been caught.”

“Dougie! I’ve been sewing all your clothes and patches for months now!”

“I know,” he laughs at Val’s annoyed expression, and she can see the gears turning behind his eyes. “It just makes me feel safer when you do it.”

Val’s face softens immediately, falling back against Ev once more as Olive lets out an aww at Doug’s confession. How could she argue with that?

“Aw, darling, that's so sweet!” Olive kisses his cheek softly, unable to hide the affection for him in that moment.

“The puppy dog eyes work every time.” Doug smiled down at her, thinking that Val was preoccupied with Everett.

“You’re a little shit, Doug!” She hollered from where she stood, Ev pulling her aside so that they could have a quiet moment, while Olive and Doug did the same.

“So…Garcia really drove you two all the way out here?”

“He did. He thought you might need another hot coffee, or a kiss goodbye.”

“He said that?”

“Well, not in such a way, but, yes.”

“So you brought me hot coffee and a kiss hmm?”

“I did! Are you happy?”

“Well, all I got was a kiss on the cheek, but maybe if you-”

Val wasted not a moment longer before leaning up on her toes to reach Everett’s lips, neither caring if her Victory Red stained his own lips, she just wanted to feel closer to him.

“Better?”

“Much better,” holding her against his chest, she felt him press his nose into her hair, and just barely heard the sound of him taking a deep breath, as if he was committing the scent of her to memory. “You know I love the real thing.”

“You mean my lipstick smudged all over you.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Fresh,” she wiped at his lip with her thumb, her movements slowing as she tried to force herself to believe that he would come back to her. “I can’t send you off to Africa with lipstick all over your mouth.”

“No I don’t suppose it would be a good look would it.”

“Bring me back something?” She posed the question lightly, casually, as if he had said he was going to the corner store and she asked him to get her an ice cream bar.

“Not sure what they have in Africa, but, I’ll see what I can rustle up.”

“Thanks handsome.” She winked, and was about to kiss him again when the sound of someone approaching caused her to stop short.

“I thought I heard yous girls!”

“Hi Curt,” she turned and flashed him an impossibly tight smile, and he knew he had just interrupted a potential kiss, like any good brother would. “Yes, you heard us.”

“What are ya doing out here hmm?”

“Garcia drove us out so we could tell the boys about the delay.”

“Jeez Blakely, you get the news from two pretty ladies and I gotta hear it from Garcia? What gives!”

“Get yourself a pretty Red Cross girl, Curt, and maybe you won’t have to see Garcia every time there’s a delay,” Ev laughed, slapping his friend on the shoulder before walking away. “I’ll give you both a minute, yeah?”

“Thanks honey.”

“Yeah, thanks honey!” Curt called after him, only to be met with Ev Blakely’s middle finger.

“You deserved that.” Val gave him a gentle shove.

“Yea I know,” Curt grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and hugging her close. “This is some soup…”

“Reminds me of the fog that rolls in off the water back home.”

“Always spooked me as a kid.”

“Still gives me the chills now…”

The pair stood there under the cover of Just A Snappin’s wing, silent as the mist swirled around them, trying to find something in the distance that wasn’t obscured in haze. She wasn’t sure how to say goodbye for this particular flight. Usually, Curt would snatch his coffee from her, give her a cheeky goodbye and run to the truck, much like he had done earlier. But this time, that dream was weighing on her again, and she didn’t know if it was just a fear, or a premonition.

“What’s eating ya?”

“Hmm?”

“I know when somethings bugging ya, so come on, let’s hear it.”

“It’s nothing,” she dismissed his prying, not sure how he’d react if she told him. “Silly, really.”

“Tell me, cause I ain't gonna be able to go up there knowing you’re down here upset over something.”

“I had a really strange dream last night…”

“Okay, well, I bet it’s not all that strange,” he softened at the expression on her face. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“It was like, I was watching my life in front of me, after the war. There was a house, and Everett, and…”

“And?”

“And a baby…”

“Gal, that ain’t anything to be so worried about! That sounds like a pretty good life to me!”

“It was… until you weren’t there.”

“I wasn’t?”

“No, at least, I don’t think so… Ev was talking to the baby, and I just remember that he said that I missed you a lot, and that sometimes I got sad.”

“Hey, if you’re worried that you and Blakely are gonna go and tie the knot and I ain’t gonna be around anymore, well, I got news for ya…”

“You better be around, Curt,” she turned to him, eyes filled with tears she was afraid to shed in front of him. “Nothing stupid up there, okay? I mean it!”

“I promise ya, I’m coming back.”

“I love you, you pain in the ass…”

“I love ya too…”

She pulled him close, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as she completely disregarded his gear, mae west, and jacket to hold her friend just a little longer. For once, Curt didn’t try and joke with her, or brush her off for being worried. The weight of this mission, the length of it, the time away, it had everyone a little on edge. So he hugged her back just as tight. The way he did when she had her heart broken back home, or when her Nonno passed away when they were teenagers; the way he always would for as long as they had each other.

“I wish you had let me braid you a new bracelet…” She mumbled into his neck.

“This one’s still good, I know it,” he gave her a gentle squeeze before pulling away to see her face. “Cause you made it, and it’s got all the eye-talian luck in the world.”

“My mother would crack you good for that.”

“What? Tying it back on, or saying Italian the way I did?”

“Both.” She laughed, wiping at her eyes.

“Hey, wipe those eyes, alright? I’ll be back before ya know it.”

“You better, because it takes too long to break in a new best friend.”

“You got that right gal…”

He hugged her one final time before stepping back, and with a wink, disappeared into the mist.

She sucked in a sharp breath as he walked away, only turning back towards the fort once she could no longer see him. Even the way he said goodbye had her feeling eerie. Christ, she hated this god damn soup. She tried to swipe at her eyes so no one would know she had been crying, but it was no use as Everett stood from his spot on the ground to meet her halfway.

“Okay?”

“Nope,” she admitted, knowing that he had seen her face and it would be useless to try and hide it from him. “But, I will be. I just…”

“You say goodbye?”

“It sounds so final.”

“It’s not,” he reassured her, hugging her against his side as he walked her back towards their friends. “It’s just temporary.”

“Yea, Africa and back.” She groaned.

“Come on, come sit.”

“Ev…”

“I’ve got a riddle? Would that cheer you up?”

“A riddle?”

“Yup!”

He takes his previous spot on the ground next to Doug, gently tugging her down until she’s sitting between his spread legs, her back to his front; the two of them fit snugly together like a puzzle piece. Just as he’s about to speak, Dougie raises a hand to stop him, gesturing to Croz who’s laying next to them, head propped up on his bag and briefcase, crush cap covering his face.

“Let him sleep!” Val hisses, knowing that he’d need his rest just as much as the rest of them, if not more with his airsickness.

“Nah.” Doug grinned wickedly before furiously tapping on the navigator's leg to wake him.

Croz grumbles and wakes with a light snort, his brow furrowed and face painted in annoyance as he spots Doug grinning next to him.

“What, Doug?” “Ev’s gonna tell us a riddle!” “You woke me up for a riddle?” “I figured your brain could use the exercise.” Dougie teased him, the girls laughing as Crosby swatted at him.

“Alright, fine,” Harry sighed over dramatically. “Go on, Blakely, the floor is yours.”

Ev takes a drag from his Lucky Strike before beginning, clearing his throat and indulging in the dramatics for the sake of his audience before he speaks. “You’re on the way to purgatory–” “Purgatory?” Olive cuts him off, eyes wide. “Yes, Maude, purgatory,” he nods. “You’re on the way to purgatory; one road goes to Valhalla, the other goes to Hell, damnation.”

“Uh huh?” Croz leans forward, his tired face now clouded with confusion and curiosity.

“On each of the roads, is a goblin-”

“A goblin?” Olive cuts in again, trying to stifle a giggle. “Ernest, where is this going?”

“If you’ll let me get through more than one line, English, you'll find out,” he sighs, making a face at her. “Anyway! One goblin always tells the truth, the other is a tricky little fucker, he always lies.”

“An imp!” Olive chuckles, catching Val’s eye.

“Birichino,” she offers up, winking at Ev. “That's what Ma calls Curt.”

“What’s the one question that you need to ask, that’s gonna tell you the right way to go?” Ev finished, pulled Val closer so he could rest his chin on her shoulder.

“Would you ask them which is the good goblin?” Olive turned to Ev after a moment of pondering.

“I was about to say that!” Croz crowed, frisbeeing his crush cap at her with a laugh.

“You snooze, you lose, Harry!” Olive grinned as she threw the cap back at him.

Val watched her friend's playful banter; Croz feigning injury at Olive’s throwing of his hat, while Dougie held her close and nuzzled into her for as long as he could. Behind her, Ev was laughing, his grip on her tight as he held her close and continued to soak up every moment he could on the ground with them.

“Okay, okay! I’ve got one!” Doug announced, grin wide as he caught Olive’s eye.

“You have a riddle?” Val raised her brow at him, her fingers fumbling in Ev’s pocket for his lighter as she placed a cigarette between her lips .

“Yup!”

“Well then, regale us with your riddle, Doug!” She grins, passing the now lit cigarette over to Olive.

“What's the difference between a hippo, and a–”

“And a zippo?” Ev finished with a laugh. “Dougie, we've heard that one a thousand times now, pal.”

Even though they’ve all heard the joke multiple times, Olive begins to giggle, which makes Doug smile.

“Yeah, but that’s why I tell it,” he grins. “To see the prettiest smile in East Anglia.”

“I love it,” Olive titters, reaching up to kiss him. “Never stop telling it, okay?”

“I know you do,” he winks, kissing her back just as lovingly. “And I love y–”

“Hey! That a flare?” Croz abruptly ends their sweet moment, his eyes narrowing as he tries to make sense of the blurry green light in the distance that's now plummeting to the ground.

“Time to go fellas.” Ev commands with a groan, his crew jumping up at his tone.

He stands, pulling Val with him, and immediately pulls her in and kisses her. They’re vaguely aware of his crew scrambling to get up and into the fort around them, shouts of men and the sound of gear being chucked into the belly of Just A Snappin as he held her for just a moment longer.

“Come home, please.” Val whispered as they broke for air, foreheads pressed together.

“Nothing could keep me from you,” he pressed his cheek to hers before his lips pressed to the shell of her ear. “When I get back…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I’ll find us somewhere.”

“I love you, and not just because…”

“I know. I Love you too,” he pressed his lips to hers once more, her arms tightening around him until she’s sure she could hear his ribs clicking. “Now go, it’s going to get busy down here in a minute. And windy.”

Pulling away, she gave him one final squeeze before she joined Olive at the edge of the hardstand, the pair of them immediately gripping onto each other's hand, watching as Doug, and finally Everett, pulled themselves up and into the fort. It wasn’t until they could see Doug in the nose and Ev in the cockpit that they wavers before they began to walk back to the Clubmobile. Helen and Tattie were no doubt wondering where they were.

“You heard that, right?” Olive’s grasp on her hand tightening. “What Dougie said before the flare went up, you heard it?”

“Oh, I heard it, Val giggles, stopping and turning on the spot as the sound of Meatballs’ harness jingles in the distance before he joins them. “He loves you!”

��I didn't think–” Olive fumbles for the leash, grasping it finally and holding on tight.

“Olive Lewis!” She pulls on her friend's arm, the Brooklyn of her accent really adding an extra umph to Olive’s name. “I will give you a slap.”

“I'm not… I just…”

“We can all see how much he loves you and how much you love him too!” Val sighs. “You'd have to be blind to not notice it.”

“Are we really that obvious?”

“Limpido come il giorno.”

“In English, please.” Olive rolls her eyes.

“It’s as clear as day.” Val winks, continuing on with their walk.

—————————————————————-

By the time the girls returned to the truck, all the forts had gone up and Thorpe Abbotts was bathed in almost near silence. If you didn’t count Meatball barking as soon as he saw Helen and Tattie sitting outside. Helen is coughing over a cigarette again, while Tattie puffs away unbothered, Olive wasting no time in stomping over to Helen and snatching the cigarette from her.

“Would you stop!”

“I can’t seem to get the hang of it.” Helen sighs, not even fighting Olive.

“Then don’t, silly! You’re only making yourself sick!”

Helen is about to reply when the sound of a group approaching behind the Clubmobile get louder, and Rosie and his crew break through the fog, some of the men kidding with each other until they spot the four women. Nash immediately breaks away from his friends to join Helen, the brunette suddenly no longer worries about arguing with Olive over the cigarettes. Rosie stops by the truck, Tattie now inside as she peers down at him, while Pappy has gravitated to Olive, pulling Speas with him.

“Hiya boys!” Tattie calls down to them, cigarette in hand as she picks up what’s left of the morning’s donuts and brings them to the window. “Last few donuts are yours if you want them!”

“Thanks Tattie.” Rosie smiles up at her, shaking his head as he spots Nash already engaged in deep conversation with Helen.

Val is in the middle of listening to Pappy go on about how he’s already written to his mother to tell her about his long lost cousin, Olive, when Tattie yells from the window of the Clubmobile with a smile.

“Hey girls! Whaddya say we name this ole girl,” she pats the side of the truck. “A lot of other Clubmobiles in England are naming their trucks.”

“Yeah? Where’d you hear that, Tat?” Val yelled back.

“Got a copy of The Sinker,” she clarified, a newsletter that was put together by Red Cross gals for Red Cross gals. “A couple of the other Red Cross girls are naming their trucks, thought we should too!”

“What should we name it?” Helen turned from her conversation with Nash just as Val and Olive walked over to join them, Pappy and Speas right behind.

“What about something to do with the state you girls are from?” Pappy offered.

“Pappy, really?” Olive turned to him, arms folded over her chest. “I don’t have a state.”

“Oh, right…”

“Tat? Any suggestions?”

“Hmm, ‘Do-Nut Enter?”

“What about All Things Nice?” Helen offered with a shrug. “We’ve got the sugar on the donuts, Val’s the spice, we’re all things nice!”

“Why thank you Helen!”

“Olive, any ideas?” Helen turned to her just as she moved to give Meatball a little love, the husky whining in protest of Helen’s suggested name, his head lolled to the side as Olive got his favorite spot behind his ears.

“I got nothing,” she sighed. “My brain is fried.”

“That would be the lack of sleep,” Tattie fixed her with a look and a wink, the woman giving way to the fact that she knew Olive wasn’t sleeping well as of late. “I’ve got my eye on you, English.”

“I’ve got it! Something to do with Meatball!” Val exclaimed, eyes bright as the dog perked back up at the mention of his name. “Yes, you, you silly dog…”

“But what?” Olive looked between them, brows furrowed as she tried to come up with something.

“What about Spaghetti n’ Meatball!” Val grinned, eyes bright as she turned to survey her friends for their reaction.

“Oh, that’s precious!” Olive practically squealed, looking between everyone else. “Don’t you all think?”

“Spaghetti n’ Meatball it is.” Tattie grinned with a soft smile and a shake of her head, Helen readily agreeing with a bright smile.

They had corralled Kenny and Wink into helping them paint the side of the Clubmobile with the promise of hot coffee and a fresh batch of donuts. Billy and Sammy had followed them back to the truck when they found out that they were going to see Miss Val and Miss Olive, the promise of donuts making the two boys run at the speed of light. They had settled with Meatball almost immediately, the Husky basking in all the extra attention he was getting, while the boys got to work on painting the new name on their Clubmobile. The girls had sent Rosie and Pappy off in search of something that could be used as a ribbon- if we’re going to do it might as well do it right- while Nash had stayed glued to Helen’s side as she cleaned up inside the truck with Val.

“Miss Val?” she looked down and saw Sammy was looking up at her. Ev liked to tease her that little Sammy had a crush on her.

“Yes Sammy? How can I help you?” She grinned with a flourish, making sure that she paid him a little extra attention just to see him smile.

“Could we have another coffee like this morning, please?”

“More coffee, hmm?” She pretended to ponder it, looking around the inside of the truck to see if there was anything left for them, when she spotted a D bar off to the side, and some milk that would end up being tossed if it wasn’t finished. “How about I make you something else? Something better than coffee?”

“There’s something better than coffee?” Billy had joined him, abandoning his post next to Meatball.

“When I was your age, absolutely!”

“What is it?”

“Hot chocolate,” she winked, picking up the candy bar and waving it in front of her face. “Best thing in the world.”

“COOL!” They shouted, and she knew that they would take anything she made for them, simply because they loved her and the other girls so much.

So while Val set about warming the milk and making a treat for the boys, both of them dutifully back on either side of Meatball, Kenny came up to the truck. Wiping his hands on his coveralls, he snatched a donut from the tray on the window, popping it in his mouth with enough exaggerated flair that had Val shaking her head.

“Hey! You didn’t ask Miss Val!” Billy looked up at Ken.

“That’s alright, me and Miss Olive have an agreement.”

“What do you mean you have an agreement?” Val looked down at him as she ceased breaking apart the candy to mix with the warm milk. “Olive, what does he mean?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she brushed her off. “Just Kenny being Kenny.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s nothing!”

“Okay, I’m sorry…”

The topic is quickly dropped as Helen and Tattie come back to the truck trailing what looks like toilet paper, mischief in their eyes, as Rosie and Pappy trailed behind them looking like the accomplices Val was positive they had been.

“We have a ribbon!”

“We have toilet paper…” Val laughed.

“It’s the best we could do.” Tattie laughed, her and Helen stretching it from one side of the truck to the other.

‘I feel like I committed treason…” Pappy shook his head, eyes downcast.

“I doubt you committed treason, Pappy,” Val laughed, coming out of the truck with the drinks for the boys, just as Chicky approached the Clubmobile. “If anything you got up to no good.”

“Alright girls, who’s twenty-two sheet ration did you take for this?” He drawls, cigar in hand as he gestures to the toilet paper ribbon.

“Yours, sir,” Tattie grins at him, knowing that he won’t say anything as she gives him a cheeky smile. “On three…”

Tattie gestures for Chicky to “cut the ribbon” on their official ceremony, but just as she gets to three and he reaches to rip the toilet roll, Meatball jumps up from where he’s been sitting and tears into the toilet paper, wrestling the sheets to the ground with a growl.

“Meatball!” Everyone groans, peals of laughter spilling out into the open as the husky looks terribly pleased with himself. Even Chicky gives the dog a laugh, the moment seeming to be just what they all need after the morning.

—————————————————

The Officers Club is practically empty, and it sends a chill through Val as she looks around the room. There’s a few men milling about, and the band is only a handful of men tonight, the music low and slow simply to fill the silence. Chicky and Red are off by the bar, the pair of them deep in conversation, as the girls take up their usual spot, Rosie and Pappy, Nash and Speas filling the seats that were usually occupied by Everett and Doug and the rest of their friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Rosie and his boys- quite the opposite as he filled her with this familiarity that only came with home- but she would have preferred that the four new faces filled in the gaps with the faces currently somewhere in Africa.

On top of all the anxiety and worry, Olive seemed to be on edge and she couldn’t pinpoint why. Granted, Doug being so far away and for more than their usual mission time was contributing to it, as she felt very similar with Everett being gone, but this was something else. This was something she wasn’t saying, and that worried her just as much as the boys being gone. Olive had gone pale before turning to face the boys at their table, the words seeming to confirm to Val that there was in fact, a secret.

“Fellas, sorry to be a buzzkill but, I need to talk to the girls,” the words are shaky, and if at all possible, Olive turns even paler. “Alone.” “Sure thing, Miss Olive.” Rosie gives her a gentle smile, standing from his seat before gesturing for the other three men to follow him over to the bar. Pappy remains seated, arms crossed over his chest as he smiles at her, looking between Olive and the rest of the girls.

“You too, Cousin Pappy.” “What? Why!” He protests, and Val can see Olive’s nerves turning into upset. “Because, it’s private.” She starts, gently trying to get him to leave the table. “But, we’re family!” “It’s girl stuff!” The words come out harsh, and Val sees the moment Olive realizes it, a deep sigh leaving the girl as she pinches two fingers at the bridge of her nose.

“Say no more…” He grimaces, the thought of that alone enough to send him running for the bar and away from the table of women.

“Okay, are you going to tell us what’s bothering you?” Tattie lights a cigarette but never falters in fixing Olive with that concerned look that seems to come second nature to her. “You’ve been off all day.” “Well, it’s just uhh…” “Is it the mission? The boys being away for longer than usual? I know this is a few days, and the first time you’ve really worried but-” Olive cuts her off with a shake of her head, the curls Val had pinned for her earlier bouncing vigorously “No, it’s not the mission,” she gasps, unable to catch her breath before speaking again. “There’s something–oh, Jesus Christ…”

“Something, what?” Helen leans across the table, eyes wide.

“I need to tell you something about me, about my life, and I’m worried - terrified - that you all won’t believe me.” “We’ve heard it all, Ol,” Helen laughs, sipping her cocktail. “Oh, I doubt you’ve heard this, Helen.” “Christ sake!” Val yells, gently kicking Olive’s shin. “Spit it out, English!”

“Right, well,” with a deep breath, she turns to Tattie, giving the woman her full attention. “Tattie, you remember how I, quote, appeared suddenly?” “Yes, out of thin air apparently.” “It’s because I was on the hardstand that day. Because I fell out of a fort.” “What were you doing in a fort, Ol?” Helen places her drink down, her brow softly furrowed in confusion.

The girls watch as Olive takes a deep breath in, her face riddle with fear as the next sentence falls from her lips.

“I was in a fort because that’s how I got here,” she whispered, wringing her hands together. “I’m not from here, from this time.” “W-what?” Val feels the confusion begin to fill her, and something else she can’t quite place bubbling beneath the surface. “What do you mean you’re not…”

“I’m from the future,” Olive whispers again, her eyes falling to her hands. “I’m from the year two thousand and twenty one.”

“Excuse me?” Val balks, green eyes wide.

“In my time, I climbed into a model fort because I thought I heard a dog barking for help in there and I fell out, here.” “Olive–” Helen is staring at her in awe, unsure of what else to say, while Tattie simply watches as what appears to be a weight the size of a B-17 falls from Olive’s shoulders. “Does anyone else know?” Val demands, and for the first time, she sees Olive shrink back from her, the worry only growing. “Kenny, and now Benny.” Olive nods, her gaze never leaving her hands. “Before me?!” Val cries, and that something else she had felt bubbling beneath the surface reveals itself to be sadness. “I thought we were friends, Olive.” “We are!” she yells in response as Val stands, tears filling her green eyes, and marches towards the door. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

She’s vaguely aware of Tattie quietly telling Olive not to follow her as she breeches the door and meets the cool night air. The sounds of the club fall silent as the door shuts behind her and she continues on until she reaches the Red Cross hut. There’s no one to walk her back, and almost no one milling about outside to stop and talk to, which gets her back faster than normal. When she’s inside, the door shut, it dawns on her that for the first time all day, she’s alone.

“Sorry Meatball…”

The husky is curled up on her bed, head on his paws as he looks up at her, immediately sensing that something isn’t right with one of his girls. He lets out a whine as she drops down onto the bed to curl up with him, her hands burying themselves in his fur just to stay busy while she tries to stave off the tears she knows are trying to fight their way out. How could Kenny and Benny come before her? Before Dougie, even? And how true was it all really? The future… it didn’t seem possible and yet, something in her gut told her that Olive wasn’t lying about it. It was the part that made the least amount of sense, and should have had her more angry than she was, wanting answers and explanations, but it didn’t matter now. What mattered was that Val had thought for the first time she had a best friend that wasn’t, well, Curtis Biddick. Another girl she could confide her deepest secrets and dreams with, gush over her boyfriend with, but the world hadn’t seen fit to that. It had been made perfectly clear to her that Olive felt different than she did, if Val hadn’t been privy to one of her secrets, when she had divulged one of her biggest to her not even 48 hours prior.

“Can I come in?” Olive’s head comes around the door frame, her knuckles gently rapping against the doorframe even as she opens it. .

“It’s a free country.” Val’s tone is sulky, voice muffled as she presses her face into Meatball’s fur. She catches Olive’s hesitation before she decidedly sits on the bed across from hers.

“I’m sorry,” Olive’s just as quiet as she is. “I wanted to tell you, I just–” “Just what?” Val snaps, sitting up to finally look at her properly, Olive’s eyes filled with tears much like her own. “Decided to tell Kenny and DeMarco before I even got a look in?” “I didn’t tell them, Val. They caught me.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Kenny caught me one night and I couldn’t lie to him,” she sighed. “Truth be told, I’d had one too many that night and didn’t have my wits about me.” “What about DeMarco?” “Meatball gave me away this morning when I was coming back,” Meatball huffs indignantly at the mention of his name in a negative manner, Olive and Val rolling their eyes at him. “Yes, I’m talking about you, silly dog.”

“So you did want to tell me,..”

“More than anything, but I just couldn’t figure out how!”

“So why now all of a sudden,” Val leans over to pull a tissue from her side table, dabbing at her eyes as she continues to seek answers. “Why do this when we’re all so riddled with nerves over this mission?”

“It was getting too risky. There were so many things today that almost gave me up, and I was really starting to feel terrible about lying to everyone.”

“Mhmm…”

“Especially you, Val. You’re my person.”

“I assumed that would be Dougie.” Val’s tone is snarky, but the smile that stretches across her face tells Olive that maybe, just maybe, this is all going to be okay.

“Romantically, he’s my man. But you…” Olive grins brightly at her. “This shit is for life.”

“Best friends?” Val sounds hopeful, the tears finally dry and she thinks that, yes, she hasn’t lost this sweet part of her life.

“Forever.” Olive beams, reaching across to the bunk and taking Val’s hand in hers.

“You know, you’re the first best friend I’ve had that isn’t Curt, and I got scared that maybe it was all too good to be true and you didn’t want to be my friend because I’m too crass or loud, or difficult.”

“Who the hell ever said that about you!” Olive crowed.

“Olive…”

“Oh Val, what did that man do to you hmm?”

Olive sighed, knowing that the version of Val they all got on a daily basis was clouded with self conscious fear of being too much as she was once dubbed, by someone she had thought to care about her.

“I’m sorry for being such a big baby,” she sniffs, shaking her head at her own annoyance. “I just don’t like being left out. And when it came from you, I felt like…well… sad.”

“Does anybody, chicken?” Olive laughs to try and lighten the mood. “Wait, you believe me?”

“Yes, I believe you,” Val nods along with her words, catching Olive’s eyes widened at her confession. “It makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Your hair, nails never done, makeup needing fixing-”

“Yes yes, Helen already ate me up about all that.”

“Ate you up?” A snort leaves Val, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as Olive giggles at the sound.

“Chewed me up and spat me right out!”

“Oh that’s excellent, I love it! Not that she, ‘ate you up’, no the expression! I’ll be stealing that, English.”

“I thought you might like that one.”

It’s a quiet, comfortable silence, the hut filled with only the sound of Meatball’s light snores, as the girls take stock of everything that had unfolded in under an hour. The day itself, the anxiety, their boys somewhere terribly far away as they hoped that they had made it safely, and would return safely. Secrets aired and confessions laid bare as friendships were put to the test. Olive and Val both worried if they would be able to see through to the other side, and yet, it seemed nothing could keep the two women from sticking together through dark days and blue skies.

“Any more secrets you’d like to tell me?” Val squinted at her playfully. “We may as well get it all out in the open now.”

“There’s nothing much to tell, really. Dead dad, abandoned by my mum and raised by Pearl.”

“Oh Ol… me too. The first part.”

“Really?”

“Yes, he passed away when I was very little. I don’t even remember him.”

Was that a blessing, that she didn’t have memories to be twisted painfully? Or was it more painful to not have those memories? She’d never truly be able to decide which side of the coin was easier to deal with.

“I’m so sorry honey,” Olive sighed, and Val knew exactly how she felt. “It’s not a fun club to be a member of, is it.”

“Club?”

“Yes, the dead dad club. I got my badge when I was thirteen.”

“It was always me, mama and Nonna. And then, Curt and Mama Biddick seemed to just fall into place as part of our family.”

“I only ever had Pearl, after. My mum didn’t take it well at all but then, who would?” Val watches as Olive pulls a dainty gold locket from her shirt, gently opening, keeping the two halves closed, it before looking up at her again. “Would you like to see him?”

“I’d be honored.” Val grinned, coming from her bed to perch next to her friend.

Val watches closely as Olive carefully opens the locket to reveal a small, heart shaped photo inside. She’s momentarily stunned by the color photo, but her eyes seem to soften as she takes in the image of the man holding a who she already knows is baby Olive. He looks proud, and positively in love with the small girl in his arms, and suddenly, she realizes that neither side of the coin is easier to deal with. Loss with or without knowing, is still loss, and it still stings something fierce.

“You look just like him, chickie. The same eyes,” she glances up at Olive with a bright smile. “Wow! That’s your dad.” “That’s my dad. My Papa,” Olive breathes on a smile, closing the locket once more and keeping the man inside safe. “He was a sweetheart.” “Do you think he’d approve of Dougie?” “Without a doubt!” She grinned brightly “Both of them have the same silly sense of humor. I’m beginning to think James has a hotline to heaven with those jokes of his.”

“And this? You, here with us?” “I think he would, yes. I think he’d just be happy to see me happy.”

“That’s good…”

“It all scares me silly, Val,” her voice wavered, not unlike the way it had earlier in the club. “He’s gone, and once Pearl goes, I’m all alone.” “That’s twice today you’ve made me want to smack you,” Val scolds, wrapping her arms around her in a hug that takes Olive no time to reciprocate. “You are far from alone, Olive Lewis, who fell out of the sky and into my life. You will always have me, and our little family.” “You’re not just blowing smoke up my arse?” “Would I ever?” Val raises an eyebrow at her in challenge, and Olive immediately laughs at how silly she looks.

“Come on,” Olive suggests, pulling Val up off the bed. “We’d better get back.”

“We left Helen and Tat with those boys didn’t we…”

“We did,” Olive laughs. “Besides, I have something to show you.”

She’s digging in her bag when the door to the hut swings open, Helen and Tattie appearing with smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks. It’s Tattie who looks to have indulged just a bit more than she usually does, leaning on Helen as they enter the hut together.

“What on earth is that thing?” Tattie laughs, pointing at the object Olive had been digging in her purse for.

“Sorry, we wanted to check on you both.” Helen explains, sitting Tattie down on her bed.

“Yeah, the conversation with Rosie and the boys was less than riveting after a while. Ha! Riveting! Get it?”

“Oh Tattie…” Val laughs, coming to sit beside her, pulling her into a one armed hug. “Please don’t ever change, okay?”

“Why would I- hey, what’s that in your hand, English?” The words are slightly slurred, and suddenly all eyes are on Olive.

“What the fuck is that!” Helen exclaims, pointing at the object now sitting in Olive’s open palm. “Olive!”

“This is my proof.” She smiles, hand outstretched so that the other girls could see just what she was holding.

It’s a thin rectangle, shiny, and Olive seems to be taking great care with it. There’s nothing to give away what it might be, but then Olive slides her finger up the front and it lights up, all three girls screaming as if it might bite them right on the nose.

“What is it!” Val looks wild eyed and unsure. “It’s a phone,” Olive explains. “Or as Lemmons likes to call it, a doo-hicke.”

“But there’s no wire! Or buttons!” Helen exclaims, her total soft nature just a bit more emboldened by the alcohol and the mood.

“Well, they don’t make them with buttons or wires anymore in the future.”

“No shit!” Tattie laughs.

“I can’t do much with it here but, I can play some music, and take pictures.” “Pictures on a telephone?” Val shouts, finally standing and grabbing it from Olive in a flurry. “Let me see!”

Olive taps a button, and the screen suddenly changes, and all at once Val is face to face with herself and Olive looking back at her in the small screen.

“Look, it’s us!”

“Oh my god…” Val whispers, turning her head this way and that, the image never faltering, like a mirror. “B-but, how?” “Magic.” Olive replies.

“Magic…wow!” Tattie smiles from the bed, watching as Olive shows Val the mysterious phone. “Take our picture!” Val demands suddenly. “Shit, alright, calm down there DiRosano.”

Olive holds the phone out in front of her, and quickly snaps a picture, laughing at the shocked look on Val’s face as the end result reveals itself to them.

“Oh no, that’s terrible and now you wasted film!”

“There’s no film,” Olive grins, showing Val as she clicks what looks like a small trash can and the photo is gone. “It’s… well, technology is complicated.”

“No film?!”

“None. Here, let’s try again.”

“Okay…”

“Smile pretty, like Ev is looking at you.” Olive teases, and just as she suspected, Val falls into a fit of giggles beside her just as she snaps the photo.

“Well, would you look at that!” Olive proudly shows Val the photo, and her green eyes go wide as she inspects it.

Side by side, laughing together. Just as Val had hoped their friendship would be.

“That’s…oh wow! Olive!”

“Right? Pretty cool!”

“Can we try?” Helen pipes up from where she’s perched next to Tattie.

“Yes, of course!”

And so Olive spends the next hour taking photos of her friends and showing them how to use the camera for themselves. Val is adamant that if everyone on base knew about this, that poor Joe would be out of a job in the officers club each night, but the four girls have sworn to each other not to breathe a word of this to anyone who doesn’t already know.

“How about some music?”

“Let me guess, there’s a teeny tiny Victorla in there?” Val laughs.

“No, it’s, again, complicated.” Olive giggles, picking up a spare glass that’s on the vanity and sitting the phone inside of it.

“A glass?”

“Helps it sound better.”

“Okay then… show us more magic then, English!”

“Yes ma’am Miss Tattie!” Olive mock salutes as she taps on the screen again.

It’s unlike anything Val has ever heard, and yet, she can’t find it in herself to stop bouncing around at all the different songs that Olive plays for them. It’s loud, and some of it is a little harsh, but she kind of likes it.

“You’ll like this singer, Val. Her name is Madonna.”

“Like, La Madonna the Virgin Mary?”

“Yes, like that.”

“Jesus Christ… what an odd name to give your child!”

“It’s not her real name, it’s more of a stage name.”

“Still!”

And then she’s dancing around the hut again, and Olive is singing the words along with the song as she takes her hands and they dance together. Its girlhood at its absolute purest and neither of them can even be bothered to care about how their curls are coming undone and their uniforms are getting wrinkled. They’re simply happy.

“What do you think Ev will like?” Val asks later, quietly curled up next to Olive on one of the bunks. “I’ll bring some of my dads old vinyls from Pearl’s on my next visit back, and we’ll find out!” Olive grins.

“Do you think they’re okay?”

“Ev and Doug? Yea, I do…” Olive sighs, giving Val’s hand a squeeze.

“All of them…”

“Yea, all of them.”

They’re interrupted by a soft snore coming from the other side of the room, Tattie knocked out in her uniform. Helen gently covers her with a blanket, her shoes long since discarded, and with a giggle, holds a finger to her lips to get everyone to shush.

“She’s on to something,” Olive yawns. “I’m knackered.” “Nah-kurred!” Both Val and Helen tease quietly, Val poking Olive softly on the nose.

“Oh leave it, Yanks!” “Oooh, she’s getting bold!” “Yes, now that I know we’re all four of us stuck together forever, I can be myself.” “Good,” Val says, planting a kiss on her cheek as she stands up and moves to her own bunk. “I don’t want to see anymore funny business from you.”

“Ma’am yes ma’am!” Olive gives her a sloppy two finger salute, much the same way that Doug always does.

“You look like Dougie when you do that.” Helen giggled, her pajamas now on as she shuffles beneath her blankets.

“Off to dream of Jimmy Stewart again, Hel?”

“Yes,” she yawns. “Maybe this time Val won’t wake me before I get my big kiss.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Val gets into her own pajamas just as Olive does the same, leaving a soft kiss to the dog tag that bears Everett’s name before taking her rosary into her hands and saying a quick prayer before bed. Just before she turns the lights out, she catches Olive pulling Dougie’s jacket from the end of the bed and put it on over her sleep clothes. She watches as the sweet English girl who fell from the sky presses her nose into the collar. Depositing her rosary, Val picks up the phone carefully and, following Olive’s earlier instructions, takes a quick photo of her curled into James Douglass’ jacket before switching the lights off.

“I love you, DiRosano” Olive whispers, sleep slurring her words. “Love you more, English.” Val grins.

Silently, she says goodnight to Everett, hoping her words and her prayers reach him safely in Africa. That he returns home soon, with his crew and their friends intact. That Curt had kept his promise of not doing anything stupid, and that they’d all be together soon. There was a lot to catch up on.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tags: Tag List: @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @the-captains-swagger-stick @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @therealslimshakespeare @beingalive1 @ptvstvrrr @lestweforget5

#eight to the bar #eight to the bar: ev & val #oc: valencia dirosano #everett blakely #ev & val #masters of the air #everett blakely x oc #mota fanfic #oc: olive lewis #james douglass #masters of the air x oc #curtis biddick #just a snappin #rosie rosenthal #rosies riveters #pappy lewis #hbo war #gina baker writes

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edandstede · 11 months ago

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they were going to get married. we were going to see them struggle with the inn, and grow together, and overcome new obstacles. we were going to see how the crew’s journey came to a close, where the revenge ended up, what happened with their plans for prince ricky. we were going to see them fight for each other one last time. we got a happy ending in case this very thing happened, but we didn’t get THE happy ending - the one david jenkins has had in mind the whole time. ed and stede weren’t finished, the crew weren’t finished, their stories hadn’t truly concluded and i am so sad.

#ofmd #i’m assuming there will be a fight for it to be picked up #at least on fandom’s part #but it does sound like djenks has already accepted this #i’m just so fucking tired and disappointed and angry #quill to paper

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badolmen · 8 months ago

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I’m being so brave about it. <- enough annoyance to poison the sea, beaching whales and washing the shores in millions of rotting fish

#ra speaks #personal #I try. I try soooo hard to assume everyone has the best intentions. that they’re just kinda oblivious when they say or do something rude.#but this guy……god help him. god help me.#*shaking him by the shoulders* we’re adults! stop being petty and avoidant! you got something to say you best say it with your whole chest!!#don’t pussy foot around a topic like you’re trying to bait me into picking a fight! especially not in fucking [redacted] club!!!!#like. time and place my dude.#yall I woke up at 4 drove 2 hours at 6 was at a conference until 4:30 got home around 6:30 went to [redacted] club for 7:00 #(without a real dinner mind you) and this guy either a) decided to subtly bait me or b) is just kinda immature and petty #or c) can’t read the fucking room. Christ. give me patience. and less memory.#it would be wayyyy less aggravating if he wasn’t part of the group that did the whole. flight 114 thing.#so I can’t tell if I’m being sensitive or he’s trying to get under my skin on purpose #which makes it sooooo much harder to stick w my ‘always assume good intentions and obliviousness’ mantra

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tea-cat-arts · 2 years ago

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Today on “Mihoyo is certainly making decisions”: It sure was a choice to make HoO easily Mei’s most restrictive design when in lore, this is the point in story when she’s supposed to be most at peace with herself

#honkai impact #the skirt is way too clunky for me #the front bits cover most of her legs and looks incredibly awkward while she’s flipping around #her wing of swords doesn’t really do much either #I think there are some cool elements #I like Mei has sorta become the dragon #but elements like the wings and tail in her skirt are completely lost by the lack of color/tone variation #all the segmenting on her outfit also gives the impression that it’s made of metal or some other hard material #y’all are into angsty sapphic media clearly so I’m just gonna assume y’all have seen Madoka Magica-#you know how Sayaka fights by placing her swords across the field and picks them up one by one as she goes?#I kinda wish they did something like that with HoO

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 month ago

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We NEED more soft!Rafe after the new season. He moved out and got a whole house to himself maybe he could ask his girl to move in? Becasue he wants her there and to be part of his life...his new life where he's a better person

Request: SOFT RAFE PLSSS

I don't know when I found time to write this, but enjoy soft!Rafe asking his girlfriend to move in with him! Feel free to send more requests, I'll write when I find time

Warnings: soft!Rafe, relationship moving quickly, mention of Ward's death

—

‘’Rafe, I truly can’t see. I’m not cheating,'’ you promised as you walked with Rafe’s hands over your eyes.

He had picked you up in late afternoon and refused to tell you where you were going. Just that he wanted to show you something...and that you had to close your eyes during the whole drive.

Rafe laughed a bit, trusting you. ''Okay, okay.''

You walked a few more steps, then he stopped and removed his hands from your eyes, revealing a large two story house.

A frown formed between your eyebrows. ‘’Who's house is this?''

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. ‘’Mine,'' he whispered in your ear, giving you a gentle kiss on your jawline. ‘’As of this morning.''

Surprise filled your face. ‘’You bought a house?’’

Every time Rafe showed up to your place after a fight with his family — most often his father —, needing a bed to crash in for a few days, you tried talking to him about getting his own place. It would solve a lot of conflicts. But Rafe always said he wasn’t ready to leave the family nest.

Behind you, Rafe hummed. ‘’I bought it with a part of my dad’s inheritance money. Sharing a house with Rose is not possible anymore. Too much has happened...’’

You covered his hands with yours in silent support. You’d heard the ugly stories about Rose and Rafe. He hadn’t always made the best decisions in the past, but Rose constantly blamed him for everything bad that happened to the family. Rafe may have deep personal issues, but it was wrong of her to villainize him.

‘’Do you want a tour?’’ he asked, his voice brimming with excitement, and the eagerness in his eyes made it impossible for you to refuse.

You followed Rafe up the steps to the porch of his new home. He fumbled briefly with the key before pushing the door open, but just as you were about to enter, he pulled you to a sudden stop.

“Wait,” he ordered, his strong arms wrapping around you as he effortlessly lifted you up.

You squeaked, startled by the sudden move. ‘’Rafe, we're not married, you know,’’ you said with a soft laugh, looping an arm behind his neck. ‘’You don't have to carry me over the threshold."

He set you down gently on the wooden floor of the entrance hall and shut the door behind him.

Inside, the house felt big and empty, its openness accentuated by the sunlight streaming through the uncovered windows.

‘’I don’t know why, but I expected it to be fully furnished,’’ you admitted, glancing towards what you assumed was the living room.

Rafe chuckled, his fingers lacing with yours as he guided you further in. ‘’Some people do buy them furnished, but this one wasn’t. You’ll have to help me pick out furniture because I suck at decorating.’’

The kitchen was massive and even had two ovens — a rich people thing. It was unfortunate Rafe didn’t cook. The backyard had a large patio where Rafe mentioned wanting to set a barbecue and a firepit, and maybe one of those large daybeds. He wanted his house to be cozy and feel like a home, not look straight out of a fucking magazine.

As he led you into the last room upstairs, the master bedroom, Rafe's voice grew soft. The words were burning on his tongue, but he didn’t know how to say them.

‘’And here's our bedroom. I mean, the bedroom.’’ He made a mistake on purpose, just to see your reaction.

You tried to hide the smile that spread across your lips, your heart beating fast in your chest. The slip of his tongue hadn't gone by unnoticed. Did he truly mean for you to live here with him? Was this why he took you to the house and insisted on making it a surprise?

‘’There’s a big bathtub in the master bedroom, and—’’ Rafe continued, moving toward the bathroom to show you the bathtub, but you were not listening.

Moving in with someone is a huge step in a relationship, not something you can decide on a whim. You and Rafe had only been together for a few months, so it felt a bit early to take that step. But then again, everything in your relationship had moved quickly from the start. He met your parents two weeks after your first kiss, and said ‘I love you’ after twenty-six days of dating — yes, you had counted them.

When Rafe glanced back at you, he noticed you seemed deep in thought. ‘’Is everything okay?’’ he asked, an eyebrow raised in concern.

You snapped out of your thoughts, shaking your head. ‘’Yeah, everything’s good,’’ you replied, smiling at him. ‘’I was just thinking of all the time it’ll take us to christen our house.’’ A mischievous grin curled on your lips as you walked toward him. ‘’Maybe we should start now. It’s a big house.’’

Rafe’s eyes flickered with surprise as he heard what you were implying. He expected you to refuse, to say it was too soon.

‘’You’ll move in with me?’’ he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

You nodded, and a smile curled on Rafe's face. He's never been happier.

—

OBX taglist: @moralina@eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx@sweeterheartxamerica @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc @pedrosprincess @mikaelsonsstuff @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @madelynie @loverofdrewstarkey @radiant-whore @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696 @under-seasoned-pasta @hoeforsirius @buckyswhxre @emerald-09 @simonessolarsystem @rehead1180 @stvrkey @ynmunson @riddle18 @love4ldr @withfireandbl00d @wonderland2425 @blublock404 @eddieslut69

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #outer banks #obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe x reader

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andypantsx3 · 7 months ago

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contents: general bakugou x princess reader; fem + afab virgin reader. nsft; oral (f receiving) & missionary. semi-sequel to this drabble. 3.2k.

Your wedding day arrives far earlier than you are prepared for.

It’s a tense affair, for you at least. The country depends on it, and you feel the scheming eyes of the nobility hot on your skin as you pronounce your vows to Bakugou. They will not take kindly to your having chosen him over their sons and brothers, over their own desire to rise to power. There will be a price they will want you to pay, soon enough.

The chapel is resplendent with sumptuous decor, the court in their finest. But the room is fringed with Bakugou’s men in their military leathers, a reminder that this is not a happy day, but rather a dangerous political stunt. It keeps the noble houses docile while they are in the room with you, but you know they will return to their estates and their plans.

Your fate is in Bakugou’s hands, now, in more ways than one.

The ceremony is dizzying, and impossible to wrap your head around. The preceptor pronounces Bakugou your prince-consort, ostensibly to remain so while you assume the throne after your father’s passing. You will continue to rule him as his sovereign. But your vows to Bakugou also promise him your obedience as his wife.

It is a contradiction, an impossible trap, the very reason why the general is the only man you could stomach the thought of marrying. If a husband is to rule you after all, Bakugou will do so justly.

The thought does not stifle your nerves, however, as you make your way back down the aisle, sit down to the reception, and take your meal. A disquieting, anticipatory feeling settles over you, fizzing under your skin. You barely pick at your dinner, and drink too much of the wine.

You can tell Bakugou notices, scarlet gaze ever-perceptive, though he does not say anything until you are shepherded to the bridal suite to consummate.

Various aides try to follow you in to prepare you, but Bakugou slams the door closed on them, propping it shut with one broad shoulder. He barks at them to scram.

“Lord General—that is, Your Highness,” one of them stutters through the door. “We are required to witness the consummation—to verify that it is complete.”

A bolt of shame goes through you at this, and you catch hold of one of the intricately-carved wooden bed pillars. Bakugou grunts, holding the door closed with one palm while spinning to the nearby dressing table and chair. He grabs the chair, wedging it forcefully up under the door handle.

“You’ll be sure of consummation when I’m done here,” he growls through the door. “Don’t need you little fucking perverts making eyes the whole damn time. Now beat it.”

A weird sound escapes you, something between a gasp and a laugh—at his promise, at his gruffness.

“Your Highness,” comes a plaintive entreaty through the door. Bakugou slams a fist against it, and you hear a squeal and a sound like someone’s fallen over their feet.

An absurd laugh seizes you, and Bakugou eyes you pettishly.

“The fuck’re you laughing about,” he says, but there’s no heat in it.

Your fingers twist on the bedpost, nervously tracing the lines. “You’re taking to your new post well.”

Bakugou’s features twist into something dangerously satisfied, a smirk painting his mouth. Your breath comes short.

“My post,” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “As your husband.”

Your stomach swoops. The disquiet flames back to life under your skin, settling heavy in your gut like a stone.

“I supposed it is a post like any other,” you say, fixing your gaze on the ground. “There are responsibilities and… marital duties.”

You hear the soft tread of Bakugou’s boot as he steps away from the door, the rustle of his doublet as he draws closer. His many medals and ceremonial sword belt clink softly. It is a fashion you know he does not prefer, always living in his shirtsleeves—the better to fight in, to train in.

A calloused hand takes your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You nervous, Princess?” he asks. His tone is obnoxious, as usual, but his crimson gaze traces your face.

You barely suppress a shiver under his touch. Your stomach churns with a thousand emotions and you find you don’t know how to feel. Relieved that you’ve made it this far. Annoyed with Bakugou’s composure and general manner. Apprehensive about what is to come. And warm, suddenly, all over. You do not want to examine why.

“Nonsense,” you sniff.

A feral smile curls the corner of Bakugou’s mouth like he sees right through you. “You’ve never been with a man.”

Your face burns but you force yourself to return Bakugou’s assessing stare. “I’ve never been to Musutafu, either, but I know it well enough. I should think I am… prepared.”

Something hot alights in Bakugou’s gaze, burning like a coal. It’s not unlike how he looked at you that night in the dark outside his chambers, when you’d first come to him with this wild proposal.

“And what do you think you know,” he says, flatter than a question.

Your nose grows hot. “Enough.”

A thumb slides along your jaw, settling against the pulse in your neck. “Answer the question, angel.”

Your face just might be on fire. You steel yourself, reciting dispassionately. “You will undress me and then… enter me. I shall lie still—they say you can breathe through the pain and it will go away after some time. You will… work yourself to completion. And then we shall be done.”

A snort comes from Bakugou. “Is that how you royal tightasses do it?”

You feel your eyes narrow. “That is how everyone does it.”

Your ladies in waiting had been very emphatic. All of them had spoken of the same mechanics. The initial discomfort, the pain, the way a husband moved upon his wife until he was satisfied.

“You don’t know shit, Princess,” Bakugou says.

You reach up to pull his hand from your face, but he tenses, arm growing solid and immovable.

“Explains why all you nobles are such fucking tight-buttoned pricks if that’s how you’re doing it.”

Your reply is startled out of you when his hand finds your waist. You take a step back, and then another, startling again when your back finds the wall. Bakugou follows you, eyes hot.

“You are insufferable,” you inform him hotly. “I am sure of the matter.”

“You’re always sure of a lot of things, Princess,” he says. His hand is back at your waist, and suddenly all your skin feels too hot and tight, stifling like a velvet dress in summer.

“I am sure you are the most obnoxious man on earth,” you say. “Now be quiet and commence with it. Let’s have done with it.”

Bakugou’s face is suddenly closer than you’d remembered it being.

“I’ll have done with you alright,” he says. “But I’m not gonna do it like you little uppity prudes.”

You find you can’t think of what he means, all of your thoughts clouded with his proximity, the feeling of his hand moving to your skirts.

“I—but there is only the one way,” you manage. None of your ladies had mentioned anything else.

Bakugou’s mouth cuts into a smirk again, and you hate him for how pretty it is.

“We’ll fuckin’ see about that,” he says.

And then his mouth is pressed to yours.

It’s nothing like the stilted peck you’d been obliged to give him at the ceremony—one that still left your face burning, for some unknowable reason. This feels entirely different in its intensity. Bakugou’s mouth is hot and soft and tempting and eager, and your body thrills with it.

Every inch of your skin feels like it zings with lightning when he licks into your mouth, and he presses you harder into the wall. You feel his groan all the way down to your toes.

“B–akugou,” you pant when his mouth leaves yours, only to stifle a yip when he moves down to your throat. He sucks a mark there, laving over it with his tongue, and you feel like you're melting in his hands. “That’s—not my—ah!—mouth,” you manage.

The tiniest scrape of teeth has you yelping again, and you find yourself clutching his bicep for purchase.

“No shit,” he says, leaving another mark lower, mapping his way towards your chest. Calloused fingers come up to cup one of your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipple through your stays. You catch hold of his hair, yanking a fistful of that flaxen blonde, clenching your thighs together.

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

Bakugou looks up at you, expression annoyed. “Consummating.”

“But you’re not undressing me,” you say. “And shouldn’t we—on the bed?

Bakugou raises a blonde eyebrow. “They tell you it needs to be on a bed, too?”

You blink, momentarily disarmed. It was quite literally called sharing the marriage bed—where else were you supposed to do it?

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing?” you eventually ask him.

Both of Bakugou’s eyebrows shoot for the moon, and he looks very suddenly like he wants to laugh. A grin yanks at his mouth, sharp and beautiful.

“I knew you’d be a fucking handful,” he says, his tone somehow both annoyed and delighted. “Don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about and you’re still trying to give me orders.”

You yank at the fistful of his hair you’re still clutching and he hisses, hand shooting out to grab yours. He works your grip off of him, pinning your wrist to the wall. The air in the room suddenly feels a hundred times thicker, like trying to breathe through honey.

“Listen closely, Princess,” he tells you, leaning in. “We're going to consummate, alright. But I’m not just gonna squeeze my eyes shut and stick it in. I’m going to do what I want first, and you’re going to be good and let me.”

Your face ignites in flame. You want to disagree reflexively. “If it’s going to be painful I’d rather just have it over with, if you don’t mind,” you say.

Bakugou stares back, scarlet gaze roving over you. “It’s not gonna be if you shut up and let me do what I want.”

You blink. You hadn’t heard that there was a way around the pain—why hadn’t anyone told you?

“I—really?” you ask.

Bakugou nods. “Really.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well then… you may proceed, I suppose.”

“You suppose,” he echoes, staring you down. The look on his face makes you want to lean forward and bite it off.

“Well get on with it,” you say, arching your eyebrows.

Bakugou looks for a moment like he wants to shake you. But he ducks his head instead, lowering his mouth to yours again.

“Gonna fuck that bossiness right out of you,” he mutters, low like he’s promising himself and not you. But then he kisses you again, muffling your gasp in his mouth.

You’ve never kissed another man, and do not have a frame of reference for what he’s doing. But Bakugou is a good kisser, you think. Every flick of his tongue feels like someone has uncorked champagne and poured it beneath your skin, and every brush of his mouth against yours sends a liquid heat racing through your veins.

You moan into his mouth when calloused fingers delve beneath the collar of your gown, dipping into your stays and pinching a nipple. He rolls it carefully, and you arch against him without any say-so from your brain.

“Been thinking about this, Princess,” he says. “Ever since I saw you in that little nightdress. Gonna show you what it really means to be with a man.”

You’re excused from answering by his mouth back on yours. Not that you think you could, with the way his fingers feel in the cups of your stays, or the press of a strong thigh between your own.

“Bakugou,” you gasp when he peels off of you, only to sink to his knees before you.

“It’s Katsuki,” he says, busying himself with the hem of your skirts.

“B–Katsuki,” you say. “What are you doing?”

Long fingers roll up the hemline of your dress, then yank at your underthings, exposing you to him. You gasp again, moving to cover yourself, but Bakugou pins you to the wall with an arm across your stomach, catching your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

“Husbandly duties,” he replies, another smirk on his mouth.

And then your head thunks against the wall as that mouth moves, pressing to you.

“Katsuki!” you shout, biting off into an embarrassing moan when he laves over you. No one had told you about this part—about how a man’s mouth there would make you feel like fireworks had just been lit off in your veins. About how a man’s mouth could even go there at all.

Bakugou doesn’t reply, kissing you there as he had your lips. A delicate suck from him over the cleft of you has you arching in his hands again, and you can quite literally feel him smirking against you.

He works you thoroughly, licking and sucking for what feels like torturous hours, but must only be minutes, until you’re a writhing, panting mess, only held upright by the arm he has banded across your lower stomach. There’s a pressure rising within you, pooling in all your limbs, making you shake and shiver with it, and what feels like no way to release it.

“Katsuki—I feel strange,” you say, bucking against his mouth. “Oh—oh!”

“Just hold on, sweetheart, and let yourself feel it,” Katsuki tells you, before licking back over you. A finger presses up inside of you, foreign but strangely good in conjunction with his mouth. Then another one presses in and they curl as if seeking something, making you twist in his grip.

And then something makes you jerk—the press of Katsuki’s fingers inside you in just the right spot, while he sucks on you, feeling like he’s touching the same place inside of you from both sides.

Something inside you snaps, uncoiling, pleasure flooding down you like a mudslide. You cry out Bakugou’s name, tears in your vision, riding out your pleasure against his mouth. Bakugou licks you through it, groaning low in his throat with appreciation.

“That’s it, Princess,” he says, tone rough. “Now you’re ready for consummation.”

You hear his words as if through a haze, and it’s only once you’re moving—being picked up and carried over to the bed—that you register what he’s saying.

He frees himself from his breeches, and stretches out over you, kissing your mouth. You’re embarrassed to taste yourself on him, but the press of him to you overrides that concern. In one smooth stroke he presses in, and you are shocked to find that he slides home easily, your core slick and ready.

It feels strange, but not at all unpleasant—absolutely nothing like what they’d told you.

“You alright, Princess?” Bakugou asks.

“I—yes,” you say, voice fluttering off when he flexes his hips, moving inside of you. The slide of him inside of you is unexpectedly good, especially when he lowers a hand to your core, pressing a thumb to that bundle of nerves at the hood of you.

“Feel good?” he asks, his eyes hot on your face. You cling to him, hips lifting into him unthinkingly as his thumb pets over you again, as he presses in and out of you a few more times.

You nod, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

He grins anyway, feral and fever-bright. His pace picks up into something faster, and you’re embarrassed to hear the slap of him against you, the eager way your body welcomes him in.

The band of pressure builds up inside you again, slowly, with every sure stroke of Bakugou inside you. He’s hot and hard and heavy over you, pressing you into the mattress, and the tops of his cheeks are flush with effort—the way he looks sometimes when he’s just come in from the training pitch.

He’s beautiful—handsome and strong and hot-headed and determined. And it dawns on you that he’s yours now—not just your subject but your husband, your prince consort, and now your lover.

It makes all your skin turn molten hot again, especially when you look down and see your knees have rucked his shirt up. You can see the flex of his abs as he thrusts between your thighs, all that golden skin and dense muscle.

The slide of him inside you and the sight of him over you is suddenly too much, and you feel yourself tip right over the edge again. Bakugou catches your hand as you lift it to muffle your cry, kissing over your knuckles.

“That’s it, Princess, that’s it,” he says again, ducking his head to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth as he fucks you through it, and he groans with the clench of you.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he says against your lips, pace picking up faster. “Knew you would, sweetheart, yeah.”

Embarrassingly you feel almost like you could come apart again with the praise. Bakugou groans once more, and you can hear his grip tighten in the blanket next to your head. His hips buck and flex, wildly uncontrolled now, until he gives one final hard thrust.

His weight pins you down when he relaxes over you, his breath tickling over your shoulder. You find you like the weight of him on you, covering you, like a shield against the rest of the world.

Apt, for a general.

“Better than how you wanted to do it, wasn’t it, Princess?” he asks, smug.

You scoff, but you catch the flash of a white grin in the corner of your vision. There is really no question that he’d had the better of it, this time.

“Knew you’d see it my way,” he says.

Over him, you can hear the flutter of feet outside the door, some muffled discussion. Heat rises to your face when you realize the castle aids most definitely heard you cry out under Bakugou’s ministrations. There will be no doubt of your consummation now, regardless of whether you were observed.

“Nosy fuckin’ perverts,” Bakugou says, rolling off of you. You catch another flicker of his chest with the way his shirt gapes, and he looks doubly smug when he notices.

“Not done yet, angel?” he says.

“I am, thank you.” You flush, embarrassed at having been caught. But Bakugou stretches an arm out to yank you over him, pressing you down over his hips.

Your stomach flutters.

“Give me a couple more minutes, Princess,” Bakugou says, scarlet eyes flashing with heat once more. His hand raises to trail through your hair, catching in the wedding hairstyle they’d pinned you into.

“Five more minutes,” your new husband promises you, with a grin like the devil. “And then we'll give them something to really listen to.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x you #character: bakugou katsuki #andie's writing

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reidrum · 22 days ago

Text

how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k

Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.

This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.

And it ended with you being held hostage.

It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.

You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face.

Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.

With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”

“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.

Shit.

He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.

“Drop it.”

You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.

“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”

Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.

Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”

Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.

“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit.

Sour gummy worms were your favorite.

A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.

“He took her.”

___

The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.

Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.

“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”

He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a—and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never—“

“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”

“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.

JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”

He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.

He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.

“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.”

An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”

The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”

Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection.

After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks. He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.

Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—

“Reid. Are you even listening?”

“What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, man.”

“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.

“Spencer—“

“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.

Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”

“I know that, Morg—“

“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”

Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.

——

A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact.

Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.

Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.

“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.

He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”

You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”

The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.

He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”

All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain.

The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.

To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.

And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“

“FBI, Drop your weapon!”

A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.

“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.

“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.

“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.

You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”

Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”

The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.

He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”

You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?”

It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other.

That’s what worried his Unit Chief.

He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.

Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.

If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.

He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.

——

You were a fighter.

At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.

“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”

He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.

“Hi, Spence.”

His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.

“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”

He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”

Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”

“You could have.”

“Spencer—“

“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”

“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.”

Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”

“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”

He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”

Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”

“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”

He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”

“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”

Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.

“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.

“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”

“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.

You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”

Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side.

You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.

——

Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.

You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it.

The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.

Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”

A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.

He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.

“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.

He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”

“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”

He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”

Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.

“I told you, I came to check on you.”

“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”

He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”

“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”

“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”

“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.

“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.

His eyes steel over, “That was different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You know why I left.”

“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”

“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”

Tobias. Mexico. Cat.

A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”

“You don’t understand—“

“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”

He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.

“Cat had details about your family.”

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”

His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”

You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.

“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.

“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.

You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”

“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.

Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”

He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”

“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”

His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.

“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”

He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.

“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”

The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.

“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”

He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”

You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.

Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”

“I’m here, honey.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid criminal minds

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raven-dor · 4 months ago

Text

you are my moonlight

In which gwayne hightower meets his future wife, and his timing is most unfortunate

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, alicent hightower x PLATONIC!reader, rhaenyra targaryen x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, young love, friends fighting, creepy viserys, horrible timing

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

AN: this could be read as a prequel to come back to me, but does NOT have to be read to understand any context!!

The tourney was in full swing, Y/N sitting eagerly on Rhaenyra’s left. The first two matches had finished rather similarly, with Sir Criston Cole being the winner. What the trio was actually waiting for was Prince Daemon’s match. It was all Rhaenyra had talked about for days and the fact that he’d gifted her a necklace of Valyrian steel, a rare and precious token that many in the realm could not afford. Of course, Rhaenyra and her family were the exception, as they were one of two of the only remaining High Valyrian houses left.

The knights of the realm lined up before the Prince, the Master of Revels, announced the man himself. “Prince Daemon of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent.” The prince rode down the line, inspecting each knight briefly. He quickly settled on Alicent’s brother, Ser Gwayne. “For his first challenge, Prince Daemon Targaryen chooses Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown, eldest son of the Hand of the King.”

Alicent grew restless, picking at the skin surrounding her fingers. Y/N wished she could comfort the auburn haired girl herself, but Rhaenyra grabbed her friend's hand quickly, stopping her from further injury. The two men lined up on their respective sides, racing towards each other.

Ser Gwayne released the first blow to the shock of the stands. Y/N beamed, though she did not know why. She hardly knew the knight, only hearing of him through Alicent when she recalled her childhood. The second round was quick, and at the last second, Prince Daemon lowered his joust in front of the horse's legs, causing it to topple over, taking Ser Gwayne with it. She gasped, a hand covering her mouth. She mumbled, knowing Rhaenyra would not stand for any untoward talk of her uncle. “By the seven.”

Ser Gwayne did not move, and Alicent grew more anxious by the second. Y/N reached her hand out, grasping Alicent's briefly. “He will be alright, Alicent, I know it.” The squires lifted him from the ground, walking him over to the medicine tent. He would be transported later to the sept, Y/N assumed. She would have to visit him and keep him company while he recovered.

Prince Daemon approached the Royal apartment, and Rhaenyra instantly approached her uncle. “Nicely done, Uncle.” Alicent and Y/N followed suit, still squeamish from the clearly immoral act.

“Thank you, Princess.” Daemon nodded his head. “Lady Y/N.”

“My Prince.”

He turned to Alicent. “Now, I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it.” Alicent walked away, and Daemon smiled once more at the ward of the crown. “Next tourney, my lady, I shall ask you.”

Y/N laughed. “I look forward to that day, my Prince.”

Alicent returned swiftly, placing her favor on the Prince’s joust. “Good luck, my Prince.” The three girls sat down, waving at the crowd. The tourney had turned sour near after, with three fights breaking out, all ending in death. The knights, who had never seen battle, were bloodthirsty from what she could tell.

Y/N grew nauseous quickly, begging Rhaenyra for pardon so that she did not grow sick. Rushing out of the royal apartment, she decided to visit Ser Gwayne while she still had the nerve. The tent was quiet, with the exception of a few masters concocting ointments. Y/N peaked around the corner, coming face to face with Alicent’s brother. She curtsied, bowing her head. “My lord.” He tried to sit up, but she quickly stopped him. “Please, there is no need to further harm yourself.”

He smiled gratefully. “I must ask for your forgiveness, my lady; I do not remember meeting you.”

“I am Y/N of House Hawthorne. A ward of the crown and a friend of your sister’s.”

“A pleasure, my lady.” He tilted his head. “Has she sent you here then?”

“Alicent remains at the tourney. I-” She blushed, realizing how foolish it sounded. “I saw your joust, and I wanted to see that you were well. For Alicent’s sake.”

He nodded, a smirk growing on his lips. “For Alicent, of course. I must say, I have not heard of House Hawthorne.” She smiled, sitting beside him.

“We are located in the Westerlands, my lord, and are sworn to House Lannister.” She looked closer at his wound, wincing. “Your wound looks rather agitated still. Would you mind if I-”

He shook his head quickly. “Please. I would be most appreciative.”

She stood, sneaking a cloth and an herb she knew caused numbing. Wrapping it carefully, she dipped the cloth in water, tapping it lightly on his skin. “This should numb the pain, for now, my lord. I’ve known this herb to speed the healing process along quite nicely.”

He hummed, closing his eyes. “How did you become so well acquainted with such knowledge?”

“My mother was a trained healer, my lord.”

“Please call me Gwayne.” He peeked through his eyelids, giving her a kind smile. “You’ve all but earned it.”

“Very well, my lo- Gwayne.” She nodded. “If I can call you by your name, it is only fair that you call me by mine.”

He scoffed. “Hardly. That would be highly improper.”

She raised an eyebrow, still delicately tapping the cloth. “Opposed to what you have asked of me?”

He nodded, steadfast. “You are a lady. You should be addressed as such.”

Dipping the cloth back in the water, she laughed. “Hardly.”

“Using my own words against me.” He laughed back. “My, you are a wonder.”

“Y/N?”

She froze, turning around quickly. For some reason Y/N felt guilty, caught even. But seeing Alicent stand at the end of her brother’s bed, her face as pale as the winter snow, made the girl forget her worries. Y/N dropped the cloth in the bowl, rushing to Alicent’s side. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“The Queen. She’s-” Alicent leaned closer, whispering in her friend's ear. “She’s dead.” Y/N gasped.

“I-” Y/N turned back to Gwayne, waving quickly. “It was wonderful to make your acquaintance, my lord.” The two girls rushed off, leaving the knight thoroughly confused.

“Call me-” The girl was out of the tent before he could finish his sentence.

The funeral was a somber affair, as to be expected. Alicent and Y/N stood close by to Rhaenyra, staring at the covered bodies. Syrax, the Princess’s dragon, stood at the top of the hill, waiting for its orders. They stood in silence for the better part of an hour before Prince Daemon whispered in Rhaenyra’s ear, no doubt telling her that she would have to be the one to give the order.

A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine as her friend stepped forward, catching a sob. “D-” Rhaenyra took a deep breath, commanding her dragon. “Dracarys.”

The yellow fury let out a great blast, effectively burning her mother and brother’s corpses. Rhaenyra turned away, unable to look at her deceased loved ones. Soon after, the crowd dissipated, leaving Rhaenyra, Y/N, and Alicent still standing by the sight. Y/N stayed back as Alicent approached their grieving friend.

“My lady.”

Y/N turned, smiling lightly at the Hightower. “My lord.”

“I believe last we met, I asked you to call me by my name.” He smirked. “Or am I mistaken?”

She laughed quietly. “I believe the herb I applied made you hallucinate, my lord. You never said anything of the sort.”

He laughed. “I’m sure you would never lie to me, so I shall take your word for it.”

Y/N looked back at her friends, her heart aching.

“She is an unlucky Princess,” Gwayne muttered.

“Yes, indeed. Losing a parent is never easy.”

“I am sorry.” Y/N turned back to the young knight, confusion etched on her face. “It is just- I assumed that with you being a ward of the crown-”

“You would be correct. But it has been so long, I hardly remember what it was like to have parents.”

He frowned. “That is horrible. I lost my own mother just a year ago.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she tried to ignore the shock that rang through her body. “It is never easy.”

She shook her head, placing a hand delicately over his. “You are, unfortunately, correct.”

A cough broke the pair apart, Y/N practically jumping at the interruption. “I could use some company on Dragonback.” Rhaenyra practically whispered. “Would you join me?”

“Of course.” She turned back to Gwayne, curtsying quickly. “My lord.”

The two girls walked up the hill, arm in arm. Alicent looked curiously at her brother. “What are you doing?”

He whipped around, laughing at his sister. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I only meant to say, you’ve taken a recent fascination in Y/N.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “And your point?”

Alicent smiled, shaking her head. “Merely a statement, brother.”

The palace gardens were in full bloom this time of year, and Y/N always found comfort in the little corner with a quaint fountain and an outlook of the ocean. Rhaenyra and she frequented this spot often in their youth, and Y/N needed respite from the high tensions at court. She’d been stuck on the same page for what seemed like hours when a voice broke through her focus. “We meet again.” Gwayne bowed his head, grinning much too widely. “My lady.”

Y/N made no effort to stand, raising her eyebrows. “I am beginning to think, my lord, that you have been following me.”

“Not that I am…” He started, sitting at the end of the cushioned chair that she occupied. “But if I was, it might have something to do with the fact that you are still not calling me by my name.”

She laughed. “Is it that simple?”

He nodded. “Quite. But do not worry yourself, I’ll wait.” His eyes sparkled. “My lady.”

Y/N welcomed the challenge; she could sit there for hours, reading and ignoring the handsome knight. She glanced down at her book, ignoring his devilishly handsome smile. “You’ve read that page three times already.” She glared over the top, and he held his hands up in surrender, laughing. “Sorry.”

She looked back down, flipping the page to prove a point. He sighed, standing and walking over to the daisies that bordered the fountain. Picking the fullest one he could find, he stopped in front of the girl, holding it out. “May I?”

“I will not wilt at the sight of you because you are a lord.” She stood, closing her book. “I am not a flower like the thing you hold in your hand.”

He nodded. “You are not.” He raised the daisy, tucking it behind her ear. “You are however, as pretty as one.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and she murmured. “You flatter me, my lord.”

“And why shouldn’t I? One should always flatter a beautiful woman when given the chance.” He smiled. “I believe calling me by my name shall suffice as thanks.”

She scoffed, smacking his chest lightly. “You are quite confident, Gwayne.”

“You’ll find-” He stopped, his smile brightening ten fold. “You said my name.”

Y/N nodded, walking away. “I did.”

He followed after, like a lost puppy. “What shall you do with the rest of your day, I wonder?”

She shrugged. “I do not know, but it will most certainly be out of your presence.”

He gasped, holding his chest. “You hurt my heart when you say such things.”

She laughed, stopping and pretending to check him over. “However will you survive?”

“I think it is terminal my lady.”

“And what affliction have you caught, Ser Gwayne?” Y/N forced a giggle back, trying her hardest to behave seriously.

“Lovesickness.” He sighed. “I’m afraid there is no cure.”

She stepped closer, a pink dusting her cheeks. “I shall mourn you then.”

“Well, I’m sure we could-”

“Y/N!”

Gwayne had never hated the Princess Rhaenyra more in his life than that moment. She was a generally tolerable girl, and a good friend to his sister, but in that moment she stood between him and you, and he wanted nothing more than to tell her to leave. He stepped away from you hesitantly, bowing quickly. “Princess.”

The Targaryen made no effort to hide her humor at the situation. “I apoligize for the intrusion. Alicent and I were about to go to the Sept, and I did not want you to think we left you behind.”

Y/N smiled brightly, waving disapointedly to the knight. “Feel better, my lord.”

Alicent tilted her head, yelling back at her brother. “Better? Are you quite well brother?”

Y/N yet again found herself in the gardens, but this time she was here for the soul purpose of seeing Gwayne. She wore her best dress, had her maid’s put her hair up intricately, and even applied some rouge. Not too much, she wouldn’t want people to think the wrong thing. She was a lady, as Gwayne never ceased to remind her. Sitting carefully on the cushioned chair, she positioned herself towards the entrance, waiting for the familiar mop of auburn hair to peek through. She’d begun to think he wouldn’t show when his familiar tenor broke through the tranquil silence.

“My lady, I thought I would find you here.” She lowered the book, her stomach fluttering when his eyes widened slightly. “You look-”

“Gwayne, I-” They both stopped, laughing at their ill timed words. “It seems that we cannot find a moment of peace.”

He nodded, breaking the distance between them. “I have wanted to tell you something for quite some time now. I cannot seem to summon the words to leave me.” He laughed, but his nerves were evident. “It is just…”

“Yes?” Y/N smiled, hating how nauseous she felt.

“I wanted to say that-”

A loud sob rang through the garden, pulling them out of their haze. Gwayne drew his sword, in case the sob resulted in any trouble. Y/N tried to round the corner before him, but he shook his head, leading her carefully through the hedges.

“Rhaenyra?” Y/N quickly left her place behind Gwayne, rushing to her friends side. “Are you alright?”

“She’s betrayed me. I cannot- I can’t-” The princess looked up, glaring at the knight. “Can we go some place else?”

Y/N nodded, her face visibly disappointed. She walked Rhaenyra out of the gardens, sparing Gwayne one last look, mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry.’

The castle had been throw off it’s axis by the sudden shift within it’s walls. Rhaenyra was no longer speaking to Alicent, which meant Y/N was no longer speaking to Alicent, which meant that the once close knit group of friends were no longer a trio.

It had been that way since they were children, almost ten years ago. Y/N not speaking to Alicent meant she could not speak to Gwayne, or so she assumed. She and Rhaenyra had not talked about it much since the day it was announced, always leaving a sour taste in the Princess’s mouth.

Y/N just wished Rhaenyra could forgive her friend for something she had no control over. The Royal Wedding was tonight, and Rhaenyra had insisted that Y/N walk in with the princess, even though she wasn’t family. When Y/N brought this up, her friend scolded her, saying that ‘My father has insisted, I’m afraid. You are his ward, and he has grown to think of you as his own.’

Now, she sat beside Rhaenyra while the ceremony took place, sneaking glances at the brides brother. Rhaenyra had picked out Y/N's dress herself, saying that she needed something worthy of a princess. She was not one to argue and let the Princess do whatever she wanted as long as she was distracted from the day at hand.

Arm in arm with the Princess, she dreaded when they finally reached the hall and had to congratulate the ‘happy’ couple. Poor Alicent, married at fifteen, was not something she wished on her worst enemy. Especially to a man twenty years your senior. The doors opened wide, the crowd quieting at the sight of the princess and her companion. Among that crowd was Gwayne, staring at her with desperate eyes.

Her cheeks turned pink, quickly breaking the contact. Chatter quickly filled the hall once more as Rhaenyra reached the top of the steps, curtsying quickly. “Congratulations, step-mother. Father.”

Y/N shivered. Rhaenyra's tone was as cold as the Wall. She wanted to curse her friend for making her go after that display. She sunk to the floor, bowing her head. “Many happy returns, My Queen, My King.”

Viserys smiled gratefully. “Thank you Y/N. You have been a loyal friend to my daughter and wife. I shall not forget it.”

The young girl nodded, equally disgusted and horrified at what the king had just said. Surely he realized how immoral it was. “Of course Your Grace. I live to serve and provide assistance to my Princess.”

She released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, sitting down beside Rhaenyra. “Could you at least have tried to be nice?”

“I was.” The princess raised an eyebrow, and Y/N almost laughed, realizing her friend was being serious.

“Of course. A jest, my lady.”

Rhaenyra laughed. “So formal.”

“We are at a wedding, Rhaenyra. It would be inappropriate for me to call you anything other than my lady, by the court's standards.”

“Well I am the princess, and I say you call me Rhaenyra.”

“Very well.” Y/N smiled, taking a large sip of her wine. “This will be an entertaining night.”

Besides the occasional snide comment thrown at the obviously overwhelmed bride, the night had been otherwise peaceful. Y/N tried her best to sway Rhaenyra from attacking the queen outright, and she’d been successful. So far. She’d been in the middle of listening to Rhaenyra’s adventure of gathering the stolen dragon egg from her uncle when a cough interrupted.

“Excuse me, Princess.” The pair turned around to see Gwayne staring at Y/N not Rhaenyra. Odd. He had addressed Rhaenyra, not her. “May I ask the Lady for a dance?”

Y/N widened her eyes, looking in between the two. She was sure Rhaenyra would say no or burst out in flames from having to talk to Alicent’s brother, but she simply nodded her head, going back to her meal. Gwayne extended his hand, leading her to the dancefloor. He whispered as they moved, keeping in mind the intruding ears that surrounded them. “I have missed your company, my lady.”

“I have missed yours as well.”

“I know much has happened since we last spoke, but it has not deterred me. If anything, it has made me realize that I cannot stand to be apart from you.” Her cheeks turned pink for the second time that night.

“You are very kind, Gwayne.”

“Yes, well, it is not hard when you are the one I compliment.” He shook his head. “I am returning to Old Town soon. In two weeks time, after my sister settles into her new life.”

Her heart fell, eyes watering. “I hope your journey is swift.” She gulped, mumbling. “I shall miss you in truth.”

He tilted his head, smiling. If she were not in a public place, she would admonish him for smiling at her pain. “What I mean to say is, I am infatuated with you. And I would like to seek your hand in marriage. From the king of course.”

She gasped, her eyes widening. “I beg your pardon?”

“I would like to marry you.” He spoke softly, now fully grinning. “If you would have me. You do not have to say yes, but I assure you, your affection for me will grow with time.”

“With time? Gwayne, I-” Y/N whispered so quietly she wasn’t even sure she’d spoken. “I have already grown to admire you. Much more than a friend should. That is no concern of mine.”

“Ah.” The knight nodded. “Well, that settles it then.”

“Settles what?”

“We are to be married.”

“Yes, well…” She sighed. “You cannot propose to me at your sister’s wedding. It would be improper.”

“Damn impropriety.” He hissed, twirling you as the dance required. “Praytell, when would be a proper time then?”

“Any other day, my love.”

He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, her face growing red. “Gwayne people are looking.”

He seemingly did not hear her. “My love.”

“If you are going to tease me-”

“You called me, my love.”

“Gwayne…” She whined, gesturing to the prying eyes. “Can we please leave the floor? People will start to wonder…”

“I desperately want to kiss you.”

Thank the Seven the dance ended then. She bowed quickly. “Thank you for the dance, my lord.” Rushing back to her seat, she stared at the table, shock running through her veins.

“Did he propose then?”

Y/N whipped her head over, glaring at her friend. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew. Y/N, I’ve known he was going to propose since I saw him approach you at my mother’s funeral.”

“Rhaenyra, I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“I don’t want you to feel betrayed. I had no intention of-”

“Do not apoligize to me.” She placed her hand in Y/N's. “You are my friend. I am happy for you, truly. He is a good man, he will treat you well. I know it.”

“I haven’t said yes, Rhaenyra.”

“Yet.” Her friend laughed. “You haven’t said yes, yet.”

#game of thrones #house of the dragon #team black #team green #alicent hightower #gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #x reader #fanfiction #got #got fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #fluff #hotd fluff #literature

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