#john blake fanfic

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist ! this one is pretty long tbh, i cannot sleep, can only write

Bellamy Blake - Dropship

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ You stumble across a knocked-out person, and you drag his body to your cave not knowing what to do; if only you knew what this would lead to. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: smut, lots of plot, violence, nsfw, grounder reader

Finding unusual things in the first wasn't uncommon. In fact, it became a normal occurrence for me. I had loved studying the animals in the Trigeda, always finding them astounding, every one acting a different way, how they'd interact with each other.

It was different from how humans interacted, with the animals it was peaceful; the circle of life. And with humans it was tough, always using violence as the first means of answer, their reasoning always being 'Jus drein jus daun.'

Blood must have blood.

Lincoln had told me about the boat people, how my views and theirs didn't share many differences. But I knew I couldn't condemn my life to one stuck on the water, surrounded by miles and miles of sea and fish.

I loved the wholly green trees, and the spots of color by the flowers when a welcoming spring came; a sign of forgiveness from the harsh conditions of a rough winter just weeks before, when the animals would go into hiding.

When the Sky People initially landed it scared off the animals for miles around the drop ship, it took two weeks for them to return to their natural acts.

I knew Trikru weren't fond of the Sky People, they were like all the other clans- instantly resorting to violence and wars. They fit right in here on Earth.

So when I found a boy who bore the symbols of Skaikru in the middle of the forest unconscious, I had to do something.

I knew what they'd do to him if they found him here, and I'd never forgive myself if I let that happen knowing I could've done something.

I had tried picking him up but he was fairly heavy, and I was fairly weak. I felt bad dragging him, not knowing what lay between the grass but it was the only option I had.

Luckily for him, my cave was nearby.

I dragged him all the way inside my cave before assessing what had happened.

I felt very awkward feeling him up and down, feeling as though I was invading his personal space; which I was. But it was for the greater good.

I think.

Once I was sure he didn't have any wounds I felt his face, his freckles, and dirt hid underneath my palms as I cupped his cheeks. His temperature was high but he was breathing fine, possibly dehydration? Starvation? Either way, I couldn't do anything until he woke up.

I removed his jacket and placed it under his head as a sort of pillow while also trying to take his body temperature down I rubbed a cloth with water across his dirty face.

Once the dirt was off his features were much more prominent, his freckles littered his face with underbags like he hadn't had a good night's rest in days. My guess was either blue or green eyes.

Deciding to let him sleep I backed away from the boy. I stepped towards my meat rack and grabbed two pieces of provisions, then placed the meat on the metal rack above the smoke to get something ready for when he awoke.

It didn't take long for him to wake up, the smell of cooked meat filled the cave in a warm atmosphere.

The boy shot up, looking around cluelessly before his eyes landed on me. He instinctively grabbed for a knife, instead gripping onto nothing.

I probably should've dressed less like a grounder.

I knew little of English, only really hearing it when I went to Trikru villages or Polis.

He backed up into the cave wall, struggling to stand on his feet.

"Shhh," I spoke softly, placing my hands out in a calming manner, if I could calm animals I could calm humans right?

"Where am I?" His voice was loud and rough, it boomed off the walls of the cave.

"Cave," I simply state, grabbing my knife from my pocket as the boy's eyes widen. I knew he'd feel safer if he thought he was in control. I tossed the knife over to him, showing him I had no other weapons.

He quickly leaned in to grab it, now aiming it towards me.

"Why am I here?" His voice was less louder this time, but still fairly rough in octaves.

"Asleep in the forest,"

The dots seemed to connect in his mind as he lowered the knife, still weary about my every move.

My hand slowly went to my side, grabbing my canteen and sliding it across the floor to him.

"Drink," I demanded, giving my best trusting smile.

He kicked it back to me, untrusting the contents. If I wanted him dead I would've done it when he was asleep in the middle of the forest!

Even animals trust easier than this.

"You first," He said.

I rolled my eyes and took the canteen to my lips, taking a small sip to save the rest for him.

Sliding it once again to him he swiftly took it and drank the remaining contents in a very fast manner, like he's never tasted water that good before. His swift actions made a giggle erupt from me, making him look weirdly at me.

"Why?" He asked, placing the knife in its respective holster.

I looked at him confused, unsure of what he was referring to.

"Why save me?"

I thought about the words for a moment, unsure of how much trig he knew- or if he knew any at all.

"I am much kinder than Trikru," I said, walking towards the smoke rack. "Food, eat,"

He wasn't sure if he could trust me, even after I just saved his life, he thought I'd want some unrepayable favor back, or that I was just waiting for my leader to show up.

I sighed and walked to the wall of the cave, sitting down and leaning back on my arms. "Okay, starve," I said.

His face was one of inner debating, not taking long before getting up and taking his share of the meat.

"What's your name?" He asked, now sitting down in the same spot he was before, which was fairly close to me. Though he held the knife in his hands as he ate; I didn't mind.

"Many questions," I say with a smile, "y/n."

He never returned my smile, instead turning his expression into one of seriousness "I'm gonna have questions for the person who dragged me to this cave,"

I scoffed, "You have a knife, gonot,"

There was no use in helping someone who won't take it, it's like chasing a rabbit who doesn't wanna be chased.

The boy rolled his eyes, his head shaking as well, he knew enough to know I told him to leave. He used his knee to prop himself up, heading towards the cave entrance with one last look at me.

Brown eyes. He had deep, brown eyes.

It had been a few days since my last encounter with the brown-eyed boy. I hadn't thought about him much, only before I went to bed, when I woke up, when I was watching animals, and when I was talking to Lincoln. I'd like to think that wasn't much.

I couldn't shake the fact he hadn't even thanked me for saving his life, nobody had ever treated me with such coldness before. Especially after I help them. Maybe it was just a Skaikru thing, maybe they weren't used to common courtesy. He hadn't even told me his name.

The boy on the other hand had also been thinking of me, the grounder who saved him.

Though he didn't like that word.

Instead, he told everyone he camped out in a cave with a grounder that he held hostage. He couldn't believe the grounders were kind, not after the lives they took, the torture they put Skaikru through. But he couldn't help repeating my name in his head, repeating that day over and over.

A grounder saved him.

I wasn't sure why I was so drawn to the boy with the brown eyes, but I just knew I was.

Walking through the forest I was picking random flowers, feeling bad for them as I was ripping them from their bodies stuck to the ground, but it made great feed for the rabbits.

I was twirling the daisy between my fingers when a loud voice boomed off the barks of the trees, scaring the crows from their nests.

"Don't move!" I heard a voice yell from behind me.

My entire body froze in fear, I had never been put in a situation like this, never having made many enemies.

"Turn around, slowly!"

I did as told, moving as slowly as I could until I was face to face with a boy, this wasn't the boy from the cave, this one had bright blue eyes you could see from miles away and a messy middle part with a particularly big nose.

I felt like a deer that was spooked by hunters, everything in me was telling me to run, escape, and take my chances. But my legs wouldn't cooperate with my head. I couldn't take this guy on, I wasn't a fighter, I never learned.

He could sense the fear radiating off me, "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, grounder." He spoke with such spite as if I was a disease or plague.

I couldn't form any sentences, my heart was beating against the cage of my chest, and I prayed that anybody would come and save me.

I didn't wanna die.

I didn't wanna die before learning his name.

I was about to die and he was the first thing I was thinking of, unbelievable.

"Speak!" He shouted once again, stepping closer to me with his gun aiming towards my head.

"Murphy!" The familiar voice filled my ears.

Murphy, I'm assuming, looked back quickly before letting out an angry groan.

The brown-eyed boy appeared, and when he saw the scene he was angry.

He marched up to Murphy and grabbed ahold of his jacket, making him drop the gun.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He yelled into Murphy's face, still gripping his jacket as strong as ever, he practically lifted him up.

"Finishing the job man!" Murphy tried pushing the boy off but it was no use, fear seeped into Murphy's voice.

"Finishing the job?" He repeated though it wasn't a question.

"C'mon, Bellamy, she's just a stupid-," Murphy tried reasoning.

Bellamy.

"She's what!?" Bellamy yelled, slamming Murphy into a tree before grabbing him again, "She's what!?"

I couldn't lie to myself, seeing this side of Bellamy was attractive. Knowing he was already so protective over me, I couldn't let him kill Murphy.

"Bellamy!" I shouted.

Bellamy didn't look towards me, instead, he glared into Murphy's eyes before throwing him down and backing away towards the dropped gun.

Only then did he meet my gaze, examining me from feet away to make sure Murphy didn't harm me.

Murphy took a while to regain his composure, standing up and dusting himself off while looking between us.

"Let's go," Bellamy said, looking towards Murphy.

Bellamy stole another glance at me before leaving for their ship, leaving me standing there still processing everything.

That day came and went, and so did the next. I had begun missing Bellamy, I roamed the woods hoping I'd run into him but I never did.

I even debated on just running into their camp, but the big weaponry scared me off. All I could do was hope and pray he was okay, that Trikru hadn't gotten to him first.

I spoke with Lincoln the day after the incident, I told him about Bellamy, about Murphy. And he admitted he too saved a girl from Skaikru, she was Bellamy's sister, and she wasn't like the rest. Octavia was kind, and gentle with Lincoln, a calm contrast to the way most people had treated him.

I was happy for Lincoln, he found someone he was interested in, and it was nice to have someone relate to the same experiences I was going through.

Bellamy was worrying about me just as much as well. After the previous incident, he wasn't sure I could handle myself if another person were to threaten me. The thought alone had his blood boiling.

He wanted me there, in camp, where he knew I'd be safe. But after what happened with the grounders he didn't think the rest of the camp would like that idea.

He tried everything to go outside the walls, to even catch a glimpse of me but he knew the camp needed him there now. The wall wouldn't build itself. He'd always find his mind coming back to me, carefree picking flowers and talking to the animals.

Most would find it crazy but he found it mesmerizing. In such a dark world there was such beauty, and I knew how to find it in even the darkest of times.

I was in my cave when I heard someone call me.

"y/n."

It was Lincoln.

I smiled when I saw him, Lincoln was one of my best friends, well, my only best friend.

"Yea?" I ask, walking up to him, his expression is a mix of anger and worry.

"They're going to attack tonight, the bridge,"

Lincoln didn't need to explain further for me to know what he was talking about.

Trikru was going to march on Skaikru.

I needed to warn them.

I swiftly ran past Lincoln, but he quickly grabbed my arm.

"Lincoln! I need to-"

"Be safe."

I gave him a nod before rushing off to the drop ship, my mind only worrying about Bellamy and his people. With every step, the sky got darker, and my legs began to get sore but I had to push through.

And then I saw it.

The big wooden fence made of scraps.

"Grounder!" I heard one of the men atop the wall yell. "Don't move!"

Bellamy was the first to open the doors, his face turned to one of surprise, but I didn't have time for reunions.

"Don't shoot! She is safe!" Bellamy yelled.

I ran to him, "Bellamy," I looked into his eyes, "They're attacking soon, from the bridge," His expression dropped to a more serious look.

"We know," He said, "Ravens working on a bomb right now,"

My face must've contorted enough for him to notice.

"For the bridge," He finished with a smile.

A breath of relief passed through my lips.

"Come in, I'll catch you up."

It took him an hour to explain everything, from Murphy going missing to him returning with a temporary sickness infecting everyone but the immune. It was something Trikru did to thin out the battlefield, my heart felt for all the souls who couldn't make it past the sickness.

"Bellamy!" I heard a girl from outside his tent call, he gave me a look before exiting the tent and I curiously followed, receiving stares from everyone around us.

"Raven? What's up?" He asked Raven, she had a tan complexion with a high ponytail.

"We did it, now we just need to make it there and shoot it."

Bellamy nodded, "I'll do it,"

I immediately looked towards him, "No!"

"I have to, it's for my people," He said, now looking down towards me.

I couldn't stand the thought of possibly losing him, what if something went wrong and he never came back?

"There isn't any other way?" I pleaded, worry evident in my face and tone.

"Our other shooters are too sick and I'm the last good shot," His hands went to my arms in a comforting matter, "I'll be back before you even know it."

His words did little to calm my worries, but I knew he was set on his decision. All I could do was nod in reply.

Raven handed him a sniper and mixture, "Pour the gunpowder around the jelly, then run far away."

With every word she spoke, I could feel the fear and sadness crawl up my spine.

Bellamy was ready to leave but before he did he looked at me before approaching another boy "If anything happens to her, they answer to me, got it?"

The boy nodded his head in reply.

I watched as he left the gates and as they slowly closed behind him, the anxiety growing within everyone in the camp. If Bellamy failed, it was over for everyone else as well.

For the next few hours, I stayed in Bellamy's tent, lying in his bed and curled up under his blanket which still smelled like him. I was beyond worried for him, I hadn't known him long but I deeply cared for him.

"Don't think I just forgot." I heard a voice say, now entering the tent. It was Murphy.

The same scared feeling returned throughout my body.

"What do you want?" I ask, sitting up off the bed, trying to seem as tough as possible knowing deep down I was terrified of the man standing in front of me.

"You made me look weak!" He shouted at me, his grip on the knife becoming stronger as his knuckles clouded over with a white shade.

"I don't know what you mean," I tried defending myself, Murphy stepped closer and brought the knife to my throat. The cold metal sent shivers and goosebumps down my body.

I wanted so desperately to defend myself, to take action, but I just couldn't.

"Shouldve done it when I had the chance,"

"Done what," Bellamy said before entering.

I almost started crying at the sight of Bellamy, his curly hair now matted in the dirt, but he never looked more handsome.

Murphy instantly dropped the knife and turned around, the moment he did Bellamy's fist locked with Murphy's face, making him scramble on the ground. Bellamy grabbed Murphy by the collar of his jacket and dragged him to the gate, not even letting him get up.

What scared me most is the fact Bellamy hadn't said a word since he found us.

The gates opened and he threw Murphy to the ground, giving him a nice kick to go with it.

Once Murphy was out of the way the gates closed, everyone watching in worry and fear as whispers erupted from the crowd.

Nobody had ever protected me like Bellamy had, I felt more safe with him than I've ever felt before.

Bellamy wasted no time in returning to the tent, seeing me wait there for him.

I ran into his arms and cupped his cheeks, locking our lips together finally.

His hands snaked down to my lower back, pulling me closer into his embrace as he led me to the bed laying me down gently.

I pulled away to catch my breath and he took this time to shrug his jacket off.

"I missed you," I said breathily, smiling up at him while he took his shirt off, revealing his toned chest which I swiftly ran my hands over, feeling every crevice, wanting to engrave the feeling into the pads of my fingers.

"I missed you too, princess," He returned my smile slyly, sneaking his hands under my top and sliding it off with ease, revealing my bare chest as he looked in complete awe.

Being under his gaze made my face flush with a deep red, suddenly feeling vulnerable, it didn't take him long to get his hands working up and down my body, feeling over my breasts and sides before slipping my pants down slowly revealing my soaked cunt, I bit my lip at the coldness meeting my warm pussy.

Bellamy let out a groan, feeling his bulge harden against his tight jeans. Tossing my jeans to the side he slid his fingers in between my slit, coating his fingers in the juices and trailing them up my thighs.

"This fine, princess?" He asked, staring into my eyes with his beautiful brown eyes.

I nodded my head quickly, needing this more than anything at the moment.

I heard his belt unbuckle and his zipper become undone. His hands grabbed my thighs and spread them open before lining himself up with my hole.

Bellamy let out a soft groan after only pressing his tip into me, he slowly pushed deeper into me causing sweet moans and pants to fill the tent.

It was the sweetest sound Bellamy had ever heard, he needed to hear more.

Once Bellamy was fully inside me he began slowly grinding his hips into me, not wanting to fully pull out. The feeling was ecstatic, unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

My hands reached for anything to grab onto, landing on his arms I grabbed onto them as the pain flooded my body from the abuse my sweet spot was going through.

"Doing so good," Bellamy groaned out, grabbing ahold of my hips while my legs wrapped around his waist. He gazed at the facial expressions I was making, the faster he pounded the better they got to him.

Bellamy wanted to be rough with me, to thrust into me until I couldn't take it anymore, but he knew he needed to be gentle with me. At least for now.

His grip on my hips forced me to stay still, unable to properly arch my back making him hit the deepest spots in me. I knew I couldn't last, I knew my climax was reaching me this soon.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... Bell!" I moaned out loudly, my climax washing over my body as I shook in Bellamy's grip.

The tightening of my pussy drove Bellamy crazy, he couldn't be gentle, not like this, not when I was below him being so irresistible.

His slow thrusts soon turned rough and fast, each thrust ending with wet and lewd sounds.

Tears began streaming down my cheeks at the overstimulation, my hands going to his chest trying to push him away but my attempts were futile.

"Just keep looking pretty under me," Bellamy said, his eyes not looking away from my face, only taking quick glances toward my breasts.

His praises were addicting, making my legs start to shake erratically.

His face was coated in a thin layer of sweat, causing his skin to shine as the light from the small lantern lit the side of his face, I wanted to remember this moment forever, him above me making me feel so insanely good; better than anyone could ever make me feel.

Bellamy's hand trailed up my body and to my neck, he squeezed lightly giving him a better angle to fuck into me.

The pressure on my neck was enough to make me cum again, my body shook uncontrollably as another orgasm washed over me, painting Bellamy's cock in a thick white layer, making it easier to slip in and out of me.

Bellamy was close to his own climax, chasing the high.

"All mine, all mine," He breathed out, leaning down and kissing my neck while giving light squeezes to my neck.

His groans became louder in my ear, and it wasn't long before I felt him pull out and finish all over my stomach.

He leaned into my shoulder and caught up with his breath, smiling into my neck and breathing me in.

"You did so good," His voice was rough, a slight contrast from before.

He stood up slowly and grabbed a nearby cloth to clean me up, discarding it after.

"You're okay?" Bellamy asked sweetly, while I crawled into a more comfortable position on his bed.

"Mhm, lay with me," I said meekly.

Bellamy smiled at the sight of me curled up in his bed, he crawled in beside me and pulled me closer to him.

"Stay here with me," He whispered, stroking my hair lovingly.

"What if Murphy comes back?"

He thought for a moment, "For you? I'd banish him a thousand times over,"

I smiled up at him, placing a small kiss on his lips.

"I'll stay then,"

With Bellamy's fingers stroking my hair, the heat coming from our bodies, and the safety I felt beside him, I drifted off to sleep.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[faeome]

Lustful Promises

Pairing: John Murphy x reader Summary: When you publicly humiliate John Murphy, he plans to make you pay. However, things take different turn, when unresolved feelings awake. Warnings: 18+ only! Dom!Murphy, kissing, bit of degradation, pet names, knife play, biting, fingering, loss of virginity, P in V, creampie…

Word count: 1.9k

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It was a known fact that you and Murphy hated each other more than anything. It was like a tradition for you two to fight every day. Today was no exception. You were minding your business when Murphy felt the need to ruin your peaceful solitude. He started taunting you for no reason, and he even went as far as bringing your best friend Bellamy into the argument.

“Don’t you feel pathetic when you see him fucking Roma after he is done with you?”

That was uncalled for. You and Bellamy were strictly platonic. He was your best friend’s brother, nothing more. That is why you landed a punch on his face without thinking twice. He fell on his ass from the unexpected motion, making the newly gathered crowd laugh. Bellamy quickly de-escalated the situation, but not before Murphy spat a ridiculous amount of threats at you. ‘Insane individual’ you thought to yourself.

In the evening, you took a walk in the forest, completely forgetting the incident that had happened earlier, as fighting with Murphy was already a casualty for you.

You were about to turn back for Octavia when someone covered your mouth. A strong arm enveloped your waist, and you were unable to move or scream. You tried to kick the attacker, but to no avail. He was stronger than you.

“Stop fucking kicking me!" he shouted. Oh. You could recognize that voice anywhere. Of course, it was Murphy. Your destined enemy. He had followed you into the woods.

He pulled away his hand from your mouth, quickly pressing the cold knife on your throat before you could scream.

“Don’t even think about screaming,” he said coldly. You shuddered. Who knew how far this crazy son of a bitch would go to prove his point?! “Got it?” When all he got for an answer was your nod, he smirked. “Good girl.”

He manhandled you, pressing your backside against a nearby tree, the knife still to your throat. You were looking at him with so much hatred that you would not be surprised if he dropped dead.

“Not so brave now, are you?”

His voice was making you violent. You kicked him in the groin as hard as possible. The unexpected kick made him loosen his grip on the knife, but he quickly gained composure.

“Wrong move,” he said lowly, sending shivers down your spine. He quickly turned you around and painfully pressed your front against the rough surface of the tree. You were sandwiched between his hard chest and the tree. "Oww, that hurts," you groaned, but that only fueled him further as he pressed his hips against you even more. “Good. I want it to hurt.”

You were helpless. You could not overpower him, no matter how hard you tried. “When Bellamy hears about this, he’s gonna make you pay.” You tried to intimidate him. It was a pathetic attempt at regaining control, but what else could you do?!

Suddenly, you felt the cold tip of the knife pressing against your cheek. He teased you, moving it across your cheekbone and towards your lips. “IF Bellamy hears about this doll.” You moved your hips, trying to free yourself, but you stopped as soon as you felt his hardened penis pressing against you.

“Murphy I-“

He shushed you. Inching his face even closer to yours and biting your neck. You tried to compose yourself, but you could not stiffen a moan when he sucked particularly hard on your pulse point. “Just like that. Ohh, baby, you are so responsive.”

"Murphy, we really shouldn’t be doing this.” You tried to reason.

“Oh, but we are.” He responded, leaving no room for an argument. He continued kissing and biting your neck, no doubt leaving marks behind. He trailed kisses down your shoulder as he opened the zipper of your leather top, leaving you in just a bra. He unclasped it easily, roughly kissing your neck.

“Turn around,” he ordered. You hesitantly did so, your cheeks reddening.

“Shit,” he whistled lowly as he took in the sight of you. You instinctively tried to cover yourself from his gaze, but he caught your hands. “Don’t go shy on me now, baby. You were talking big just a minute ago.” He said with a sinister look in his eyes. He quickly took your nipple between his teeth, sucking on it.

“Fuckkk.” You moaned, feeling overly sensitive, as his hands and teeth twisted and bit your nipples. “Fuckk fuck fuck, John,” you were a whimpering mess. He hummed against your chest, planting a final kiss as he looked up at you. His blue eyes were darker than ever, filled with lust.

“Shit baby, you are a mess, and I haven’t even started with you yet.” He chuckled when he heard no response from you. “No sneaky responses? What did you do to the girl I knew and loved?”

“Loved?” You questioned without thinking.

“Just a saying. Don’t let that get to your head, babe.”

You scoffed, offended by his words, for whatever reason. Did you actually expect him to be gentle with you? This was John Murphy, your sworn enemy, and you were about to fuck him. Shit.

“Shit,“ but before you could finish your sentence, Murphy kissed you again. He was rougher this time, more passionate. You parted your lips, and he quickly slipped his tongue into your mouth. You broke the kiss, trying to catch your breath.

“Don’t think, baby. I know you want me, so stop fighting it. Just trust me." He placed his large palm on your lower belly, trailing his fingers further down.

“I’ve never had sex before.” You blurted out.

He stilled and looked you in the eyes.

“What?”

Damn. That was a reaction. You tried to avert your gaze, suddenly feeling too bare.

“Well, shit. That explains the attitude. Maybe you just need someone to dick you down so you can finally stop being a fucking bitch.” He spat.

“Fuck you, Murphy, you fucking asshole.”

He chuckled darkly.

"Oh, you will, baby; don’t be so eager.”

He opened the button on your shorts and helped you get out of them. You were just in your panties now, feeling the light breeze on your bare body. He pressed his palm on your pussy, stroking your clit with his thumb through the fabric of your lace panties. “John,” you moaned.

“Yeah, baby? Want me to stop?” He teased you, looking at you with innocent eyes.

“No.” You almost screamed, making him smirk. That egoistic asshole. Suddenly, he pulled your panties down, letting them pool at your ankles. His one hand was holding your waist, and his other was massaging your pussy lips.

You grabbed his shoulders roughly to help balance your already wobbly legs.

"God, baby, you are so wet. If you wanted to be fucked this badly, all you had to do was ask.” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath making goosebumps awake on your skin. His middle finger slowly pushed inside you, making you gasp. He bit down on the meeting point of your neck and shoulder as his finger slowly filled your cunt.

“Oh my god, John.” You moaned. He quickly pushed his ring finger inside you, the sudden sensation making you jolt. He held down your hips with his other hand so that you could not move.

"Fuckk, I feel so full,” you continued blubbering without a coherent thought in your mind.

“Yeah?” He questioned, as he scissored you. “Think you can take another?”

You moaned at his words. “Don’t know,” you answered truthfully.

"Sure, you can. You wanna be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, unsure where the urge to please him was coming from. He added his index finger, stretching you out further. You felt so unbelievably stretched that you weren’t sure if you would be able to take his dick. He fastened the pace, fingering you hard. You screamed when he curved his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. His thumb was circling your clit.

“I think I’m close,” you told him.

“Good,” he whispered against your ear, biting your already bruised neck. “Go on, cum on my fingers. I wanna feel your walls pulse.” His words, along with his brutal pace, put you on the edge. You came hard, not being able to control your moans. When you came down from your high, you could see John staring at you.

“You are so sexy.” He said with a smirk.

He started unbuttoning his pants, and you were about to get on your knees when he stopped you.

“Shit princess, I’d love to see you choke on my cock, but I promised to fuck that attitude out of you.”

You shivered at his words. He finally freed his cock, letting it spring free. It hit his navel. He was bigger than you imagined. You opened your mouth in surprise, almost drooling at the sight.

“Like what you see?”

You looked at him with lustful eyes. “Just fuck me already.”

"Mmm, alright,” he sensually kissed your lips as he entered you. You bit his lip hard as the stretch from his dick hurt you.

"Fuuckkk, you are so big.” He moaned at your words. You screamed as he bottomed out. He pulled out quickly, leaving just the tip, only to push inside again with brutal strength.

“Oh my god, I can't,“ but he shushed you. He was kissing you everywhere, and his hands were gripping your waist so hard that you were sure it would bruise. You felt so overwhelmed. He was everywhere. His dick was so deep inside you that you were worried about your internal organs. His scent was intoxicating, making your brain fuzzy.

“Come on, baby, cum on my dick,” he moaned into your ear. He put his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes. He fastened his pace, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you. You fell apart on his dick; the intensity of the second orgasm made tears fall from your eyes. He came after you, not bothering to pull out. You were shaking, barely able to stand. He put his head on your chest, breathing heavily.

“So I was your first?”

You nodded slightly.

“You liked it?” He questioned, and you hummed, too spent out to form a sentence. “Fucked you so hard you forgot to speak or what?”

You punched his shoulder lightly, not appreciating the joke. He kissed both your cheeks softly and gently pulled out. You could feel his cum leaking out of your hole, but you did not care.

“I liked it,” you said quietly.

“What? Could you say that louder?” He said, teasingly looking down at you as he stood tall, fully dressed. He helped you clean up with surprising softness.

“You cannot tell anyone about this, Murphy.” You voiced your concern.

“And why would I do that, baby?” He inched closer, fixing your messy hair.

“Promise me.” You whispered.

“I promise.” He answered you truthfully, zipping your leather top. “Sorry for what I said earlier about Bellamy.”

“I’m sorry that I kicked your ass.”

He laughed, shaking his head at your words.

Maybe he was not so bad after all.

[s1ater]

i do what i have to do.

pairings. bellamy blake x fem!reader

part two of two.

about. in which you point your gun at someone you never thought you’d point it at.

warnings. swearing

ricky rocks. look who finally finished a year old one shot/fic/whatever you call it 🤗🤗

bellamy coudn’t hurt you even if he wanted to. so, when mumbling the words, ‘move or i’ll kill you’, you could see right through his bluff by the way his eyes so willingly betrayed him, filled with... hurt.

in all truth, bellamy believed you would have shot him if it would have come down to that, and maybe that’s what pained him most. he wouldn't hurt a hair on your head, and you would have, but only for the best interest and safety of arkadia and your friends. 

you never wanted to hurt bellamy, but recently you really, really wanted to slap him upside the head for all the stupid shit he had been doing. and maybe a gun scare would knock some sense into him, or maybe it would only put him deeper into the hole pike was digging for him. 

bellamy yanked you to your feet quickly after the two of you had seemed to have recovered from all the commotion that had just taken place. you weren't sure whether or not he wanted to get you away from the increase in rowdy crowd or to have his way with you first. 

you were beginning to think it was the last option as he marched down the hall with you in front of him, gripping your left arm while the other pressed against your back. one, two, three, four more steps before he shoved you into one of the guards rooms, his room. 

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he let go of your arm with a slight shove causing you to stumble forward a bit. he looked angry, more than you had ever seen him and more than you would have ever wished to see.

“bellamy, don’t start with me,” you mumbled, raising a finger to harshly accuse him... for something. “if you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”

he scoffed, looking beyond dumbfounded with his mouth slight agape, not believing the words that had just came from your mouth.

“stop fucking talking,” he needed to think. he begun to pace back and forth, and you had no idea what to do with yourself as you watched him. “i need to get you out of here.”

"what?"

he gives you a dumbfounded look that was filled with a sense of urgency, "y/n, you just shot someone that can have you dead within seconds. you don't leave, someone’s going to do exactly what you did, and take justice into their own hands."

"you should have let me finish the job."

"we're not starting this," he grips your shoulder before pushing you by your upper back. "people are leaving. o, kane, miller—you go with them. you stay, they'll kill you."

"how do you know this?" you mumbled, glancing back at the mention of your friends and the planned escape you all had developed. bellamy was considered a traitor to you all, so he would be the last person on your list to concern with the escape plan. 

"eyes everywhere."

you narrow your brows at him, "you're coming with."

he narrows his brows in shock, not expecting you to say this, you share the same expression, also shocked by yourself. the past month would explain this--not only had you watched your world at arkadia fastly crumble after the slow rebuild of humanity, you also witnessed your relationship with bellamy slowly tank moment after moment while his with pike was created.

so, offering passage was an absurd idea. after all the betrayal.

he seems to wince after his surprisal settles but is quick to keep a straight face as best as he can, "you're getting the wrong idea."

"am i?"

"we're not friends anymore, y/n. this isn't old times," his words are intentionally stinging, but you don't miss the look on his face that betrays him. "you can't save me if that’s what you’re thinking. I don't need to be saved, i know what i’m doing."

you frown, "bellamy, you need to stop acting like there's never going to be a happy ending for you before it comes true. leave with us."

"you know i can't do that."

"why not?"

"I dug myself in too deep this time," his face was still stone cold, but it didn't prevent remorse from blossoming in your chest. "maybe if you weren't such a terrible shot, this would be all over."

***

in well under an hour bellamy had you out of arkadia, alone. your friends had left a lot sooner than thought and no matter how much begging you did—expectedly—bellamy left his mind unchanged. 

you knew exactly where your friends were going—where they’d be. it was a long and lonely hike but it was enough time for reflection.

you miss the time where you felt like a kid still. where you were young and reckless and full of hope that you’d finally get to be free upon that first step off the drop ship. that you had purpose and will and fighting was something you hadn’t really minded aside from the possible side affect of death.

now you were tired. you just wanted to lay your head down for once and not think about the pointless rivalry purging your everyday life.

“y/n, you’re okay,” octavia pulls you into a tight hug, a certain relief setting over. “god, after we hadn’t seen you, we assumed the worst.”

“i’m okay,” you gave her a thin-lipped smile, “thanks to your brother.”

“bellamy?” she seems shocked, like that’s the first courteous thing he’s done for someone in years.

“yes,” you nod, understanding the hostile tone she almost takes with his name. “i think he might’ve saved me.”

“where is bellamy?” miller speaks causing you to realize they had all emerged from the cave.

"he's gone."

"dead?"

"no,” you shake your head, “he stayed behind. he said he had to fix some thing’s before he showed his face again.”

octavia mentally rolled her eyes, but kept her composure as she watched you, “you’re here. that’s all that matters.”

***

“is he dead?”

“indra has him.”

“bellamy-“

“y/n,” he gives you a pointed look at your protest. “you know that’s as good as dead.”

he was right. pike killed her people, that was far from unforgivable. he’d be lucky to receive death.

“she didn’t kill you.”

he shook his head, keeping his eyes low to the ground, “thanks to o.”

it took a day for bellamy to find you all. his face was beaten and bloodied, but you knew better than to ask what the cause was. he had a lot of enemies at the moment and it wasn’t like this was something out of the blue for him. you would've been surprised to see a clean face.

“she doesn’t hate you as much as you think.”

“i’d like to think she doesn’t hate me at all,” he presses his lips into a thin line. “you’re right though.”

you nod, trying to look sympathetic.

“about everything. i’m sorry.”

your mouth slightly opens in shock from not anticipating his words; apology and admitting.

“i’m sorry too,” you nod, swallowing harshly as you think about having that gun pointed inches from his face. “i would’ve never shot you.”

“you sure?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell he’s genuine when asking. “could’ve guessed otherwise.”

“guessing will only hurt you,” you tease, but quickly drop the blitheness. “i shouldn’t have done it, but i was scared… and angry.”

“i know,” he whispers, “we do what we have to do, right?”

“right.”

“then if that means shooting me to knock some sense into me, do it.”

a laugh gets stuck in the back of your throat at the preposterous thought of it. the funny thing was you knew he wasn’t joking. classic bellamy, putting himself in harm’s way.

“me a couple months ago would be more than happy to oblige,” you shake your head, making it his turn to laugh.

“us a couple months ago was a different story. i’m sure we already had guns to each other’s throats.”

you laugh with him, “yeah.”

“never again.”

nodding, “never again.”

you stare at one another now, quiet and calm. you don’t think you’ve ever had a moment like this with bellamy before.

you’re not sure what to do, but bellamy does.

your months of angsty butting heads leading to civilness, then ultimately leading to radio silence on both of your ends due to pike, had killed him. and now, here you were, back in his grasp of more than just civilness, he couldn’t let that go.

“i lied,” he mumbles, suddenly shifting from the rock he sat on. “instead of shooting me…” he’s leaning now, hovering, and just barely resisting the urge to complete his intentions. you feel his breath fan your face; feel, because your eyes are shut. “please, just kiss me.”

his nose is slotted against yours, still hovering as he watches you beneath his eye lashes. his lips are so close… so close to yours, it’s killing him that he waits.

“i’m sorry, but i have to do this,” he smiles before finally pressing his lips against yours.

@thecraziestcrayon @mynewnamedoesnotmatter @myalupinblack @cc13723things @Uselesssapphickitten @black-rose-29 @reality-runaway @let-love-bleeds-red @rudypankowisdaddy @the-anxious-youth @kitkat-mini @itzstacie @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @dayanaralight @nyx3028 @hizziestial @ritz-hell-hotel @fruitiseavey @kayalect @deathtobarbie @areil4 @strnqer @mystic-writings @gbrownn @moonlighy @straightzoinked @thelaststraw3 @navyabhatnagar @alexxavicry @esposadomd @lupinsluvbot

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 1

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer x Reader

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been receiving?

Warnings: Secret Admirer (could be cute, could be creepy, depends on how you see it.), Reader is part of the Red Cross Girls, Spoilers, possible mentions of injuries, death and warcrimes.

Word Count: ~1.2k

Masterlist Next Part

x x x

Thorpe Abbotts was abuzz before the sun peeked above the horizon. Many of the personnel had been busy throughout the night while the men who would be in the planes got as much rest as their minds and bodies would allow. You were amongst those who had been working through the early morning hours, preparing the Clubmobile to serve fresh donuts and hot coffee that were intended to carry the men through their dangerous and lengthy mission.

Helen stepped into the truck, a small stack of letters piled on top of the supply box in her grip. She set the box down on the chair in the corner, seperating the letters adressed to you from the ones adressed to the few other Red Cross ladies. “Early mail delivery.”

“Must be for morale, first combat mission for many of the men today.” You easily recognized the printing on the first envelope, a letter from back home just like the ones you had recieved every week since arriving to Thorpe Abbotts. The second envelope was unusual, void of a return adress and stamp, only your name was scrawled across the front. You gently peeled open the envelope, unfolding the sheet of paper to read the message inside.

“During our first encounter your presence washed over me like the English rain, soothing and all consuming. You have captured my attention and selfishly, I must admit that I don’t want you to ever let it go.”

The letter had no siganture or name to identify who had written it, only a creased bottom corner and a small coffee stain in the middle of the mostly empty sheet. You didn’t recognize the handwritting but admittedly, you had not seen the writing of the majority of personnel at Thorpe Abbotts. Your brain spun, shuffling through as many first encounters as your mind would allow but it was overwhelming, there were so many possibilites… too many possibilities.

“Everything alright?” Helen asked, her eyes glancing to the letter clutched tightly in your hands, worry creasing her brows. She hoped everything was okay at home, it was everyones nightmare to recieve bad news from home while being on a whole other continent, so close to a raging war.

“Oh,” You quickly folded the letter, tucking it back into its envelope. “Yes, everything is fine.”

You were sure Helen was skeptical, feeling her eyes following your movements as you tucked both letters into your coat. The men trickling out from their quarters was enough to distract both of you from the coffee stained paper.

“I don’t recall such a welcoming committee when I arrived.”

The sudden voice behind you had been startling, you turned to find the handsome Major leaning against the open window of the truck.

“I do recall being in this very spot while you rushed right passed, Major.” You sent the man a polite smile, adding to the stack of paper coffee cups, “Surely you were focused on the business at hand.”

“That must have been it, I’d like to think I would have introduced myself otherwise.“

You were thankful for the roar of planes flying overheard, the arrival of his men drew his attention away from the heat pooling in your cheeks. “That is my cue. Enjoy your day, ma’am.”

The soldiers came in waves, stumbling across the clubmobile on their way to settle in. Many men lined up for the provisions you offered; hot coffee, fresh donuts, cigarettes, the newspaper and even the occasional magazine.

You sent the next in line a smile, one nearly tripping over his own boots as his friend nudged him forward. “Gentlemen, what may I offer you today?”

The dark haired soldier leaned on the window ledge that seperated you, sending you what you could only assume to be intended as a charming smirk. “If a ‘gentle’ man is what you are looking for, then that is what I shall be.”

It certainly had not been the first attempt at flirting you had experienced in the day, but generally the men had kept it tame, calling you pretty in some way or asking to take you for a harmless drink. You let your distaste for the comment show on your face, choosing to adress the amused man at his side.

“May I offer you anything?”

“Just two cups of coffee and cigarettes, thank you.”

You placed only one cup of black coffee on the ledge along with the requested cigarettes, offering a polite smile. “When your friend learns how to speak to women respectfully then he may make requests. Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts.”

Your eyes briefly found those of the dark haired man, his mouth slightly agap with your words before he was pulled out of the line by his now laughing friend.

The line faded quickly, the men moving along to find their Quarters to settle in as soon as they were served. The coffee urns were empty, only a single cup of black coffee leftover from the gallons that had been brewed. Helen had just began to clean when the last few men to arrive wandered through. You had heard through whispers that one plane had been seperated from formation, missing in the clouds. It had flown overhead a short time ago and you assumed these were those lost men. Most passed without stopping for a treat, settling in on the forefront of their minds but one staggered up to the open window.

“Anything left?”

“I’ve always got extra cigarettes or the newspaper on hand, one last cup of coffee if thats what you’re looking for.”

The solider accepted the lone paper cup, sniffing the bitter liquid before taking a large gulp. The boldness helped relieve the putrid smell of vomit from his nostrils. It was fragrent on the plane because his navigator was unable to control his air sickness, but the scent seemed to stuck in his nose as it was still the only thing he could smell, until the coffee anyway.

“You got any gum?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder at two men who were busy chatting amongst themelves. You slide a small package of mint gum across the ledge, watching as stalked toward the two soldiers, throwing the gum to the dark haired one without more than a simple ‘Heads up’.

Your first encounters with many of the men circled your mind as you lay on your bed, the letter once again clutched between your fingers. Major Egan, Douglass and Blakely, Hambone, Crosby and Bubbles, Curt and Dickie. Your first interactions with many of the soldiers were friendly introductions, none had stuck out to you as anything other than kind or mildly flirty.

He had never intended on you reading the letter, it had been written in a futile attempt to rid you from the forefront of his mind. He surely wasn’t a fool, you were far too good for a man like him but he had been completely taken by your warm presence. Unable to ease the yearn he felt for you, anchoring deeper every morning when you happily served what the military had insisted to be coffee.

It may have been a presumptious move on his part but he just couldn’t help himself.

He had snuck the letter into the mail carriers bag when he was delivering letters to the men as they ate was being labelled as ‘breakfast’.

x x x

Tags: @canyousmelltheflowers

[notelcol]

In which John Murphy steps out of his comfort zone.

Trigger warning : blood, reference to violence.

No one asked for this one but it’s here anyway and vaguely edited 😈

(It came out a little longer than intended, I got ever so slightly carried away…)

When Murphy came back from the grounder prison camp, despite him being the bully of all the delinquents, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. What did Bellamy expect after exiling his once second in command? We should have seen this coming. The grounders would have been fools not to take Murphy for all the information he had. Blood was smeared all over him. You couldn’t tell where it was originating he had that many wounds. The image of his torture made you shudder. Even his fingernails had been ripped from his fingers. You looked away. Forgetting all the times you had needed to confront him to protect others, you made a choice.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked Clarke, the only person with medical experience.

“You can find someone to go with you to the path that leads to Mount Weather.” She said with a sigh. “The poison sumac there would be really helpful.” The tired blonde uttered her thanks, while you left to find Octavia. She would most certainly accompany you.

Murphy watched through one eye, since his other was tightly inflamed. He could not fathom why you would be willing to risk your life leaving camp, simply to acquire a calming herb to ease his plight. Especially because the last time you saw each other, you were fighting him to save a child. A child who murdered the chancellors son, and got him hung to within an inch of his own life. Murphy hated you for that, so why didn’t you? The child you were trying to save did die because of him after all. He was a black and white sort of man. One who never understood forgiveness. A person would come to blows once and that’s it, they are dead to him. He always stood by those very rules. Until you, who only fought him in the name of peace. Which is why risking yourself to help someone who truly needs it, came natural to you. Even if it meant giving a second chance to someone like Murphy.

Unfortunately none of the hundred felt the same way as you. After failing to find Octavia, you begun asking around camp for someone to go with you. When that also failed miserably, you decided to grab a gun and head out alone.

The expedition went as well as you could have hoped. You did not feel the many eyes of the forest on you for once. In fact, it was so calm outside of camp that it almost spooked you. You decided to grab extra of the plant while you were there, to save Clark and Fin a job. Finally, your bag was full and it was time to turn back. You realised that you were a little bit out of breath after a few steps. You must have been picking the flowers for longer than you thought.

The walk back to camp felt much more tiring, so your feet began to drag. You could feel the sweat dripping all over your body, particularly annoying you around your top lip. Huffing, you removed your coat and wiped away the sweat from your face with it. You moved to tie it around your waist, only to be hit by a wavering buzz. It sent your whole body spinning. You watched your coat drop to the floor and finally noticed the blood. All that blood, covering most of the garment. You were so dazed that you didn’t even notice you had fallen.

“Get. Up.” You growled to yourself. Sputtering thick crimson, you clawed at the mud. This must be biological warfare. Your symptoms too similar to Murphy’s to be a coincidence. This revelation only cemented your determination to get this poison sumac back to camp. If you had caught it, then others must have too. Your mind went round in loops while your arms refused to rest. Until you inevitably exhausted yourself and dropped your head to the forest floor.

Murphy was finally starting to feel better. The countless patients in the drop ship could not say the same. As he gave water to a quiet girl named Fox, the fabric around the drop ship door ruffled loudly. Miller came rushing in with you slumped in his arms, blood and dirt covered you to the point where you were almost unrecognisable. He watched as you were dropped into a hammock. A strange feeling, one he could not identify, filled his chest as your bag spilled open revealing the many poison sumac flowers you had brought back.

You awoke to the feeling of something cold and wet on your forehead. You groaned at the heaviness in your lungs, which only caused the blood to gurgle and spurt from your mouth. As you choked, your eyes shot open to be faced by Murphy. His eyes almost went as wide as your own as he quickly removed the cold cloth from your head and pushed you onto your side. Your breath shook in relief. Instantly oxygen came easier, and the blood drained away.

“Rest.” He spoke in a softer tone than you thought was even possible from Murphy. Of their own accord, your eyes fell closed once more. The blood was wiped from your face in a manner that felt more like caress, helping you drift away peacefully to your dreams.

For the first time in his life, Murphy had entered his personal grey area. Your undeserved kindness showed him the world through a lens other than his own rage and paranoia. He decided then and there that he would take care of you until you recovered. Allowing himself to believe it was getting even, when really it was something else entirely. It was simply another thing he had yet to understand.

[blakelysco-pilot]

Hallelujah, I Love Her So

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

Something big is brewing, and The Brass is keeping their cards close to their chest. The Red Cross girls are forced to navigate through the murky waters of changes on base, revelations, new faces and chance meetings. Val is forced to face feelings from the past that rear their ugly head in the face of something beautiful, but she is determined not to let the past get in the way of her future.

Part Five Follow along with the Eight To the Bar Playlist

Sleep. More often than not, it was restless, and usually cut short due to obligations. This time, it was simply because no one had wanted to go to bed. After a week of restlessness and arguing, finally, they had all found peace. Olive and Doug had made up, and Douglass had finally understood what everyone had been trying to tell him all along- Olive only cared for him. While Val had been nothing short of thrilled that her best friends had finally gotten past their troubles and become a couple, what had made her exponentially happy was knowing that her and Everett had not pushed themselves so far in defending their friends that they ruined their own relationship. Benny had made up with Dougie, the two reaching an understanding that Benny was now to Olive what Curt was to Val- a brother. Curt had spent the entire walk back to the huts from the hardstand bellowing how he had the best night ever, and it had been funny, until BED. ALL OF YOU had come blasting over the tannoy and Red Bowman had sent them all to their respective racks. 

Now, as Val woke feeling as refreshed as one can be for getting to bed as the sun came up, she was determined to make the most of a day that didn’t include fighting or disagreements. Olive, it seemed, was already up and out of the hut along with Tattie. Helen was still somewhere in dreamland, even as the clock slowly approached nine. Sitting up in her bed, Val called over to Helen softly, hoping it would be enough to rouse the woman from her sleep. 

“Helen, doll, it's almost nine.”

“Hmm, that’s nice…”

“Helen, we have to start getting up and out to the truck.”

“Bring the truck here….” She mumbled, face still pressed into her pillow. 

“Christ sake,” Val stood from her bed, bare feet padding over to Helen’s bed. “Helen, come on chickie, time to get up.”

“But we just went to bed…” She groaned, prying one eye open and looking up at Val. 

“I know, but we can turn in early tonight, yea?”

“Yea, okay,” She sighed, sitting up and meeting Val’s equally tired gaze full on. “Those two early birds are already at the truck?”

“Yes, now let’s put a little pep in our step before Tattie comes round, okay?”

Nodding, Helen let Val pull her from the warmth of her blankets before the pair of them began getting ready for the day. 

Val and Helen had gotten themselves cleaned up and into their jumpsuits in record time. Helen resolved to finish pinning her hair under her scarf on the walk over to the truck while Val blindly applied her lipstick mid stride. By the time they reached Olive and Tattie, the truck was set up and both girls were enjoying a cup of coffee while tossing the ball with Meatball. Demarco must have been up and at it early if he’d relinquished his best pal to the girls before the day really got going. 

“Good morning boy, hi!” Val looked over at the husky who was panting, ball in mouth, and staring up at her with big blue eyes. “Did you have a nice snooze?”

“He snoozed more than any of us, that’s for sure.” Helen rolled her eyes with a smile. 

“When I checked last night, you were snoozing on top of Dickie.” Olive pointed at her with a cheeky smile. 

“He was closest,” Helen grumbled. “And Tattie took the dog.”

“Surprised Benny didn’t put up more of a fight for him honestly.” 

At the mention of his owner, Meatball promptly dropped the ball to the ground and let out a loud howl. Maybe Cleven was right and he was part wolf. 

“Okay, Meatball, shhh.” Olive crouched down to ruffle the fur between his ears, the dog mistaking her affection for playtime and jumping up onto her. 

“Oh, Meatball!” Val laughed, unable to pull him off of Olive as he continued to pounce and lick at her face. 

“Wow, and here I thought I was the only fella who got to smother you in kisses!” Dougie’s voice rang out as he walked up the path to the Clubmobile, smirk on his lips and pep in his step. 

“Fella, yes,” Olive looked up at him from her place on the ground. “He’s not a fella, he’s a Meatball.”

“Well, then he’s the only Meatball who gets to smother you in kisses.” Doug approached the dog, gently tugging at his collar to get him off of Olive, promptly handing him off to Ev, who had joined him in his quest for coffee. 

“Did anyone get any sleep last night?” Dougie questioned the group, looking at the exhausted faces of his friends as he helped Olive off the ground. 

“Barely,” Val sighed, moving to snuggle into Everett’s side. “I can’t remember the last time I stayed out all night like that.”

“Had to be sometime before the war…” Ev sighed, placing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Somehow it always involves Curt.” Val groaned, her back turned to the path, she didn’t see the man in question approaching. 

“Speak of the devil.” 

Tattie gestured behind Val, causing Ev to turn them both to see Curt coming towards them, bright eyed and bushy tailed. 

“Morning yous guys!” He beamed, voice booming as he took up the spot on Val’s other side. 

“Shh, too loud.” Helen scolded him. 

“Who’s too loud? Meatball? Yea I heard em all the way across the field!”

“Curt…” Val warned, sending him a glare. 

“The gal’s grouchy this morning, Blakely.” He mumbled, cigarette now wedged between his lips as he pulled out his lighted. 

“Biddick,” Ev looked over at him. “Shut up.”

“Can I at least have a coffee?” He looked at the four girls, trying to figure out which one was most likely to concede. 

“Fine, come on, you perky son of a bitch.” Tattie gestured to the truck, leaving Curt out by the hatch as she rounded the back to go inside. 

“Thanks, Tat,” He grinned. “Oh, Val, Harding’s looking for ya, he’s in the glass house.”

“You should have led with that, Curt…”

“Yea, sorry about that, I got distracted.”

“Christ sake, okay,” She pried herself out from Everett’s arm and headed for the truck, the pilot still clutching Meatball’s harness in the other hand. “Might as well bring some coffee up for the boys.”

“I’ll walk you,” Ev called over to her. “I needed to talk to Kidd anyway.”

“Thank you honey,” She poked her head out of the truck, now inside putting together a tray of coffee and some donuts for the boys in Operations. “You can help me carry this.”

“Here Curt, you’re on Meatball duty till Benny gets back.” Everett handed off the leash to Curt, moving to the window of the truck to take what Val was passing down to him. 

With his hands full, he stood waiting for Valencia to exit the truck. Her own hands full, the pair began their walk towards Operations. They bid their friends goodbye over their shoulders, and began a leisurely walk over towards the control tower. Val was balancing a tray of coffee while Everett dutifully carried a tray with donuts. While some men might have balked at doing something so domestic, he welcomed the moment with Val by his side. 

“What’s going on with Jack,” She glanced over at him before looking back towards the path they were walking. “Anything I should be worried about?” 

“Honestly, can’t say for certain,” He dropped a sigh before continuing. “Could be anything from a switch in my crew to wanting to go up and practice.”

“Why could he possibly want to switch out of your crew?”

“There’s replacements coming in...”

“When?”

“Not sure, which might be what Harding wants to see you about.”

“The hell am I supposed to do with replacements?”

“Welcome them with open arms the way you welcomed me, sweetheart.” He grinned, offering her a wink as they came to a stop outside the Control Tower. 

“They’re hardly getting a wink and a smile,” She sighed, shaking her head as he pulled open the door for her. “And my dance card is full, Captain Blakely.”

“Ooh, haven’t heard that one in a while.” He let out a low laugh, careful not to make too much noise now that they were inside. 

The center of the Control Tower, ground level, wasn’t brightly lit. It was bathed in an almost orange glow, and was made up of small offices inside around the perimeter. The center of the room, The Pit, as Red sometimes referred to it, held one big table in the middle adorned with maps, and had floor to ceiling chalkboards on either side of it. Each chalkboard ran the list of every plane within the 100th. All of the forts, their tail numbers and corresponding names and the lead pilot. You could see where someone’s fort had been erased- the names of those who went down or were MIA, simply erased from Thorpe Abbotts. Val realized if she allowed herself to look at it for too long, the worry of Everett’s name, or Curt’s being erased from the board would begin to sink in. Instead, she chose to focus on Chick Harding, who was standing next to Jack Kidd, hands on his narrow hips and cigar wedged between his lips. 

“G’morning Chicky,” She approached with a smile, the coffee still piping hot on the tray. “Jack.”

“Valencia…”

“Brought you boys some coffee and Ev’s got the donuts.”

“Blakely, did you join the Red Cross and forget to tell us?” Harding barked out a laugh, the smoke from his stogie billowing up around him. 

“Helping Val, Colonel,” Everett placed the other tray down next to where Val had placed the coffees. “She’s only got two hands and I was already headed to see the Major.”

“Ah I’m just joking with you,” Harding slapped a hand down over Blakely’s shoulder before picking up one of the coffees. “I’m sure she appreciates the extra hand, don’t ya Valencia.”

“Oh, I always do.” She smiled, looking  over her shoulder at Ev and giving him a wink before turning back to Harding. 

“Alright, well, grab yourself a coffee and come with me.” Harding turned and began walking towards the big table in the center of the room, Val following closely behind him. 

With a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw Ev disappear into one of the offices with Jack, the pair of them talking quietly before Kidd shut the door behind him. Attention again on following Colonel Harding, he stopped suddenly, turning to face her, eyebrows raised and cigar pinched between two fingers. 

“Gotta wait for Red,” He nodded. “Did you get yourself a coffee?”

“Oh, no…”

“Go on then I know you were all up with the sun this morning.” He looked at her with a brow raised, smirk painting his lips. 

“More or less,” She mumbled, turning and hurrying back to where she left the coffee. “Did you eat anything this morning, Chicky?”

“I’ll take a donut as long as Demarco’s dog ain’t get near them.”

“They’re Meatball free, grouchy.” She rolled her eyes as she handed it over to him, hearing the beginning of a scoff coming from him, before someone clearing their throat interrupted him. 

Red Bowman appeared in front of them, arms folded across his chest, eyebrow raised in amusement at the banter between the pair of them. 

“She’s got your number, Chick,” Red’s thick New England accent was light, a bit more jovial than Chick was in the mornings. “Morning Miss Val, thank you for the coffee.”

“Morning Red, and you’re quite welcome.”

“Are you two done torturing me?” Harding scoffed, gesturing with his hand that held the donut to the folders in front of him at the table. 

“Go on then,” Bowman nodded, plucking a coffee from the tray. “I’m sure she’s wondering why you needed her if it’s not to type up your reports.”

“No reports?” Val looked between the two men, brows creased. 

“We’ve got replacement crews coming in,” Harding started, gesturing to the folders and piles of paperwork scattered around the table. “Fellas are going to need a warm welcome, and I thought you and Helen might be willing to set up the Interrogation hut.”

“You want coffee and whiskey then?”

“That and if you can spare some of the sweets from the Clubmobile,” Red added. 

“A hershey bar or two, sure,” She nodded. “But my dance card is full, gentlemen.”

“Wasn’t asking you to give Blakely the boot for a replacement,” Harding laughed. “I’m not blind, Valencia, I know what’s going on there.”

“Out till the sun came up,” Red shook his head in a laugh. “And still up and doing her job.”

“Well, someone has to caffeinate you boys. And feed you, too, it seems.”

“So you’ll be there to welcome the new boys?”

“I’ll talk to Helen when I get back to the truck,” Val nodded in agreement. “When do they get here?”

“Noon.”

“Noon, today!”

“Yes, Valencia, noon today.” Chick drawled, exhaling from his cigar.

“Christ, Chicky, a bit last minute don’t you think?” 

“We found out last night.” Red interjected, watching as the furrow on her face turned deeper with each passing second. 

“Well, then I need to get back,” Val nodded, bidding a farewell to both the men, swiping a donut off the tray she had left for them. “And pray that Helen is still standing when I get there.”

She didn’t see Red and Harding chuckling at her as her back was turned, both men fully aware that she’d get the job done despite the small window to do it. She also missed the door to Jack’s office opening as Everett exited, his own brow starting to look like his girlfriends. 

“We’ll get it done, Blakely,” Jack murmured from behind him. “I know we will.”

“Yeah… we know when these crews are coming in?”

“Today, 1200 hours,” Jack sighed. “Harding has Val setting up interrogation for them.”

“New fellas are gonna love that,” Everett chuckled, the irony of the new crew’s being greeted by a pretty Red Cross girl not lost on him. “She’s gonna give those boys hell.”

“She already gives all of us hell.” Jack cracked a smile, his usually tough exterior slipping as he extended his hand for Blakely. 

“Almost all of us.” Shaking Jack’s hand, the two pilots shared a knowing look before Ev turned to leave the Control Tower. “I’m in the clear.”

————————————

“Tell me again,” Helen groaned, twisting the top off the whiskey bottle. “Why Harding doesn’t want all of us?” 

“I wish I knew,” Val sighed, shuffling past Helen with a tray of donuts wedged against her hip. “He just asked for me and you to be here.”

“Knowing Chicky, he doesn’t want Meatball in here jumping all over everyone.”

“The Hundredth’s mascot, banned from the welcoming committee. What a sin.”

At the mention of the husky, both girls could hear him barking and howling from across the field by the Clubmobile. Sticking her head out the door, Val could see Demarco making his way over to them, Meatball pulling and tugging at his leash excitedly at his owner returning. 

“Benny’s back,” She turned to Helen who was lining up the glasses, pouring two fingers worth of whiskey into each of them. “And heading our way.”

“So much for keeping Meatball out of here.” Helen chuckled. 

“Hey! You girls need a hand?” Benny stuck his head inside the door, Meatball immediately trying to get inside. 

“Hi,” Helen turned, chucking the empty whiskey bottle into the trash before moving to the coffee cups. “We’re good, but, shouldn’t you be getting the racks ready with the rest of the fellas for the new guys?”

“To be honest, Helen, I’m not exactly bursting at the seams to meet the new kids.” 

His face said what he wasn’t, or couldn’t, about the men coming in. They would be filling the empty racks of those who hadn’t made it back; friends that were lost, or dead, and the original boys were reluctant to get too close. Nobody wanted to lose any more friends than they already had. It had been two months since the original crews flew in from Greenland, thirty-five crews had landed that day and Val had been in this exact same spot welcoming the boys who would become her friends to Thorpe Abbotts with a whiskey and a smile. She’d do the same today, but would these boys be here long enough to become friends? God, she hoped so, that for their sake they wouldn’t go up into the clouds with high hopes and never see the ground below again. 

“You girls sure you don’t need help?” He was procrastinating going back to his rack.

“Leave Meatball with Olive and Tattie,” Val gestured back to the Clubmobile. “The new boys should at least be able to have a snack without his hair all over it.”

“Alright,” He nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“There’s an urn with coffee on the truck. It’s full, and needs two people to bring it over here.” 

“I can grab it.” Benny nodded, moving to bring Meatball back to the truck. 

“Benny you need two people, trust me,” Val followed him outside. “It’s also piping hot.”

John Brady was at the window as the pair of them approached, chatting animatedly with Olive about Shakespeare and his sweetheart back home, Juliet. The two girls had become quick penpals, and Brady had taken to including Olive’s letters with his so that nothing got lost in the mail. Whenever Brady had a spare moment, him and Olive would indulge each other in conversation. It was easy to see that John Brady’s favorite thing to talk about was Juliet. Val found it quite sweet, that the usually stoic, pipe smoking saxophone player softened at the mere mention of her name. 

“Hey Brady,” Val nudged his shoulder with hers as she passed. “How’s Juliet?”

“Jules is good, thanks for asking Val,” He grinned as Olive handed him a pack of gum. “Her birthday’s coming up soon.”

“Well, make sure you send her a wish from me.” 

“I will. I tell her all about you girls, and if I don’t, I know Olive does.”

“Good,” Val nodded, taking Benny by the elbow once he returned from tying Meatball back up by the girls. “One day I’d like to meet the girl who makes John Brady all starry eyed.”

With a wink, Val and Benny made their way into the back of the Clubmobile to collect the urn and take it back to the hut. There was a second urn already in use by Olive and Tattie, the girls taking coffee from that one for the boys that passed by. 

“Handles on the side, Ben,” Val directed him to one side while she settled on the other. “On three.”

“Uno, dùe, trè?”

“Yes,” She laughed, waiting for him to count off in Italian. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it…”

On his count, the pair of them lifted the urn and began moving to exit the truck, Benny taking the stairs backwards while Val guided him down one at a time. Once on the grass, they walked side by side, the urn between them, back towards the hut. They moved quickly, silently, and once inside, Helen was making space for them to put it down on one of the tables. She’d set the cups out on one side of the table, enough sugar to get by before the next delivery of rations came in, and milk that the local farmers graciously brought to base every few days. All that was missing was the men filling the room, nervous and excited energy of their flight in and what was to come. The prospect of the fight ahead glimmering in their eyes. 

“You girls all set?”

“All set, Benny,” Val smiled. “Thanks for the help.”

“Any time cugine,” He winked. 

“What did you just call her!?” Helen balked.

“Cugine,” Benny laughed. “It means cousin but not really a cousin.”

“Right, like we think of each other as family but there’s no bloodline.” Val explained. 

“Italians have a word for everything!” 

“Here’s another one,” Val turned back to Benny just as she caught Chicky and Red coming towards the hut. “Vai.”

Go.

“And I’m gone.” Benny grinned, scooting out the door and jogging across to the Clubmobile to pick up Meatball. 

The Interrogation hut was busy in almost no time at all. Almost as soon as Harding and Red had joined the two girls, the sound of B-17 engines overtook the entire air base. Jack Kidd was out on the hardstands with the two Majors, getting the new fellas into trucks, speeding off towards Interrogation where Red and Chick would do their part in making sure each fort arrived safely and without issue. Val and Helen were there to greet them with a smile and a warm cup of coffee, or something stronger for those who preferred it. 

They all looked so fresh faced as they entered the hut, and Val could see the excitement in some of them. Young boys ready to fight, who if she had to guess, didn’t even know just how bad it was up there. In retrospect, neither did any of the original boys when they first got here, and she remembered the vacant look on Gale Cleven’s face the afternoon they had returned from Bremen. The shock and fear that had full body encompassed the man as he tried to explain what had happened up there. The whiskey he declined, that Egan had promptly poured into his coffee, the noise in the back of the hut he had walked into, choosing to let Curt do all the talking for him. How many of these new faces would look the same in the coming days, weeks, months. How many of them would she even see return? 

She had just turned to pour more coffee when a crew entered the room, the pilot looking every bit the part. Dark curls tamed with pomade, bright blue eyes and a mustache- no lucky strike. He was a handsome fella, and offered her a kind smile in return of her own as she offered up a choice of refreshments. 

“Coffee or whiskey, Lieutenant?” She smiled, holding one of each in either hand. 

“Coffee, please, ma’am.” He nodded politely, and Val clocked an accent that she had only heard from one other person on base. This man was from home. Her home. 

“Here you go.” She handed him the cup, ready to move on to the next man in his crew, a shorter man, young but sporting a bald spot under his crush cap. She assumed he was the Co-Pilot, and he was eyeing up the whiskey. 

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Val,” She nodded. “Not ma’am or Miss. Val is just fine Lieutenant…”

“Rosenthal. Robert Rosenthal.”

“Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts, Robert.”

The Lieutenant was moving further into the room as Val quickly passed a glass with whiskey to his Co-Pilot, the man grinning as soon as his fingers wrapped around the glass. 

“Ah jeez, thanks Miss!”

“You’re welcome, now go on, the Colonel is waiting.” She gestured to where Harding was standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, a cloud of smoke swirling around him. 

“Oh, shoot!” The Co-Pilot cursed, running off behind the rest of his crew to join them, whiskey in hand. 

Shaking her head, Val carried on with offering up refreshments, watching out of the corner of her eye as Helen chatted with a young pilot who had come in behind Rosenthal and his crew. For someone who had been so sleepy this morning, willing to serve coffee and donuts from the warmth of her bed, Helen looked positively glowing as she poured what looked like a second whiskey for the man. Normally, she’d give Helen a look, but the girl had sat by while she and Olive did the same every time Everett and Dougie walked past the Clubmobile or into the hut. It was important to Val that all of them found a sliver of happiness, and maybe, this new pilot would be to Helen what Ev was to her. 

When he leaves her with a dashing smile, Val turns quickly, busying herself with stacking empty glasses and cleaning up crumbs, so as to not get caught spying. Just as the nameless pilot reaches the door, he turns and calls out to Helen, a slight twang to his voice and a sparkle in his eye. 

“See you later, Helen of Troy.” He winks, and joins the rest of the crews in the other room, leaving the two women standing there speechless. 

“Helen of Troy?” Val turns to Helen, who’s trying furiously to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Unsuccessfully if she had anything to say about it. 

“He’s charming…”

“Yes, he certainly is!”

“You are the leading authority on charming pilots, DiRosano.” She teased.

“Shush, you know what I mean,” Val waves her off, picking up the tray of glasses she stacked, and heads for the door. “What’s his name?”

“Hmm?” Helen seems dazed, lost in a fantasy, and Val can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“Oh here we go,” She grins. “His name, Helen. What was the charming pilot's name?”

“Oh! Nash,” The blush was not ceasing its takeover of her fair skin. “Lieutenant Herbert Nash.”

“Well, he certainly seems to have his sights set on you!”

Just as Helen was about to respond, the door opened and Red Bowman stepped out of the room, eyes scanning the front of the hut for something before landing on the coffee urn, and then over to the two girls cleaning up. 

“Any more in there, girls?” He gestured to the urn, cigarette between two fingers. 

“For you, Red? You don’t even have to ask.” Val winked, setting the tray down by the door to go pour him a coffee. 

“Thank you, Valencia,” He groaned, pinching between his brows with two fingers. “These new kids are… Well, they’re kids.”

“They’re just anxious,” Handing over the cup, black with sugar, she could see something behind his eyes. Something fearful. “Same as the other boys were anxious when they got here.”

“These boys somehow seem younger than your boys.” Red sighed, and she could very clearly see the worry on his face. 

“Our boys will lead them through,” Val nodded, knowing she felt the same worry even though Ev and Curt had been on their fair share of missions, that worry never subsided. “I know they will.”

She had spent the rest of the afternoon repeating her own words over and over. Our boys will lead them through tumbling over and over like a stone as she willed it to be true. She had seen too many men lose the fight already, coffee and a kind send off one minute, and the next she was scanning the faces as they shuffled through the door to see who had made it back and silently taking stock of the missing men. Quietly, she would keep their names off to the side, knowing that Curt and Ev were the ones who would see them meet their demise- hard as it was for the girls to not see those boys again it was infinitely harder on the boys who saw it happen first hand. Friends lost, sons, husbands and brothers who would never see home again. That, she had realized, was exactly what she had welcomed to Thorpe Abbotts earlier today. Boys that, if she had to guess, a handful or more would never see the inside of that hut again after their first raid. Boys who would maybe get to spend one night in the Officers Club with a good pretty girl to dance with and a hope that maybe she’d be waiting. Chances are she would be waiting, but what would return, no one could say for certain. 

“You’re quiet,” Tattie looked up from where she was putting away the leftover snacks and newspapers in the Clubmobile. “Everything go alright with the new boys?”

“Oh,  yea, they were fine. Eager.” She punctuates the sentence with a forced laugh. 

“I figured as much. When they went past they were all wide eyed like it was Christmas morning.”

“Red looked a little nervous,” She slid the empty coffee urn back onto the shelf, turning to face Tattie. “He kept going on about how they were just kids.” 

“They are kids,” Tattie shook her head. “This damn war.”

“I get why Benny didn’t want to be around when they showed up…”

“Almost all the boys went up for practice just before the new forts landed.”

“Are we wrong to get attached?” Val questioned, lighting a cigarette. “I don’t mean Ev or Doug, but the other boys.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, remembering Croz’s wife’s name, or how Claytor takes his coffee. Checking the score of the Yankees game in a three day old paper from home just so Egan has a better morning. That kind of stuff.”

Val lets her gaze fall to Olive who’s cleaning up outside the truck with Helen, the latter telling her all about their afternoon and the crews that had come through. She can’t help but hope that disappointment doesn’t find its way to her friend, the smile on her face giving Val the reminder of what they’re doing here and why they’re doing it. It’s more than coffee and donuts or snacks for the boys. It’s a smile that reminds them they’re still human, that they’re not just killing machines trained to fight a war; the boy who left home is still in there somewhere. It’s a friendly ear when their sweetheart sends a letter and they can’t wait to see someone about it. Or when their newborn starts crawling and their wife writes to tell them all about it in such detail it’s as if they’re seeing it happen in their mind's eye. It’s someone remembering how they take their coffee or who their favorite baseball team is. It’s having friends and someone to laugh with. If it meant being able to smile and making someone else smile, she didn’t mind getting attached all that much. They were good guys. Flyboys, sure, but they were good. 

“No,” Tattie shook her head, a smile on her face. “I think it’s important we get attached to our boys.”

“Our boys…”

“Well, who else is going to look after them?”

“In the sky, they look after each other. But down here, on the ground, you’re right Tat… those are our boys.”

“And that damn dog.” She rolled her eyes, a stream of smoke passing through her lips. 

“No,” She grinned. “We can’t forget about Meatball.”

———————————————————————————

She had walked back to the hut with Tattie, the two smoking and chatting idly as they took stock of all the new faces walking around base. Thorpe Abbotts seemed crowded now, the new fellas plus those who had been here from the start now taking up space in every available hut, rack and seat in the mess hall. All the hardstands were occupied and in the back of her head she filed away that they’d be brewing more coffee and making more donuts each day. 

She’d hoped to run into Everett on her way back. They had parted ways in the Control tower that morning, and when she had left he was still in Jack’s office. Had she known they were in there shooting the shit, she’d have popped her head in and snarked at Jack a bit before leaving them both, but when Ev mentioned he needed to see Jack for something, she wasn’t about to interrupt that. She could surmise that the boys had their hands full now, but she’d remain hopeful that they’d see each other in the mess hall; or at the very least, he’d come find her before it was lights out on base. And considering no one slept the night before, they’d all be lights out pretty early if she had to venture a guess. 

“Olive said you didn’t even go to bed last night?”

“Oh, no. Delays the hangover.” 

“And how do you feel now, Spaatz?”

“Like the Clubmobile rolled over me, reversed, and rolled over me again.” She groaned. 

“That’s certainly one way to describe a hangover.” Val laughed, not missing the scowl on Tattie’s face as she nudged her. 

“And you?” The other woman questioned, eyebrows raised. “How are you feeling now that everything’s settled with Olive and Douglass?” 

“I’m exhausted,” Val groaned. “But it’s a good exhausted, you know what I mean?”

“There’s a good way to be tired?”

“Sure there is!” Val exclaimed, explanation at the ready. “It’s like, when you come home after a night on the town; you danced all night and your feet hurt, and it’s a chore to even open the jar of cold cream, but you had the most wonderful time and you’d do it all over again…”

“So you’re not saying you’d argue with Blakely again, but…”

“But I’d sit out in the grass with all of you and watch the sun come up every night if I could.” 

“Back at you, Valencia.” 

Just as they reached the door of their hut, they could hear Olive and Helen inside already, the pair giggling quietly. Helen had been in a quiet daze all day after her encounter with the charming replacement pilot in Interrogation earlier. It seemed he had left such an impression on Helen that she wanted to tell any of the girls who would listen; Val would listen a hundred times over to see her friend smile. Pushing the door open, the two girls looked over from Olive’s bed, smiles wide and eyes sparking with mischief. 

“You’ve got mail…” Olive’s tone was a playful, sing-song. 

“What don’t I know?” Her green eyes narrowed in playful scrutiny as she made her way towards her bed, finding a piece of her own floral printed stationery laying folder on the pillow. 

“Nope!” Olive mimed zipping her lips.

“Olive!” Val stomped her foot like a petulant child, shaking her head as she picked up the paper, smiling as she unfolded it to find Everett’s messy handwriting scrawled across it. 

Honey-

Saw you were swarmed with new faces in interrogation and didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll be back a bit later. Our crew is taking a few of the new fellas up on a practice run. I’ll be back in time to eat with you in the Officer's Mess tonight- pick you up at 5:30. I Love you!”

-E

Her eyes flew across the paper three times before finally looking up. Olive’s gaze was there to meet hers, the Brit now standing in front of Val, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes and a smirk on her face. 

“He…oh my god…”

“He what, honey?” Helen, who was still perched on Olive’s bed, looked over in concern.

“That’s the first time… In a note!”

“The first time for what?” Helen, again, posed the question to Val. 

“Val? Honey, are you okay?” This time it was Tattie.

“DID YOU KNOW!?” Val’s gaze turned wide and sharp as she focused on Olive, her voice a few octaves higher than it should have been. 

“Did I know what?” The other woman teased, her voice taking on an almost innocent tone. 

“THIS!” Val waved the sheet of stationary in her face. 

“What’s it say?” Olive jokingly tried to peer around it, hoping to catch a word or two. 

“English, please!”

“Okay, okay…” She finally relented, taking the seat next to Val on the bed. “I promised him I wouldn’t let it slip before you found out or he told you.”

“How did you…”

“Dougie and I were in here earlier. I was reading my mail when Ev came looking for him.”

“Yea okay, you two were reading.” Val rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t change the subject, Valencia!”

“Olive! Please tell me that I’m not sitting where…” 

“No, Helen, you’re safe. Nothing happened.” 

“As long as I’m not- “

“Would you two please focus! Everett just said he loves me!”

“Well of course he loves you!” Tattie rolled her eyes, walking past on her way to the showers. 

“No, I mean, that’s the first time he’s ever said it.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She shouted, remaining in the conversation while freshening up. 

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, for starters, it’s the way you gaze into each other's eyes when you think no one is looking…” Helen grinned, rolling over to her stomach on the bed, chin propped on her hands and feet in the air like she was at a slumber party. 

“Or when we are looking.” Olive teased, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Val. “Here Chicken, come on…”

Val gratefully accepts the cigarette from Olive, taking a long pull before exhaling again. Her next words come out in a swirl of white smoke, her eyes glassy like she’s lost in a memory. 

“The last person who told me they loved me…”

“There was someone before Blakely?” Tattie’s head popped out from the wall of the bathroom. 

“I don’t like talking about it,” Val sighed. “We met when I started working at the bank. He was a big shot and I was a secretary.”

“Val, you don’t have to tell us.” 

“No, it’s okay. I want to,” She sighed. “I think I need to, to finally be rid of him.”

“Rid of him?”

“He was a real sweet talker,” She started. “Not like Curt or Ev. He was the kind of guy who could charm the skirt off a nun. Not even Curt can do that.”

“Oh…”

“So, he charmed me. Charmed me real good, and made me lots of promises.”

“Val, did he…”

“No,” Shaking her head violently, she took another drag of her cigarette. “I was so enthralled by him, I had wanted to.”

“So what happened?”

“The secretaries would always leave at five in the dot. So, there would be nights I would go home and he would still be working, and so Curt would meet me and walk me home. And one night, we were walking home, we came up to the picture house, and there he was.”

“Oh no…” Helen’s hand was covering her mouth, eyes wide in shock as she put two and two together. 

“He was with another woman,” She shook her head. “I don’t know who she was, but I begged Curt to take me home.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“Yes. In the police station. Curt beat him within an inch of his life. They both got arrested for a public brawl.”

“Valencia!”

“I had to identify them both,” She sighed. “Curt had claimed self defense, so, when it came time to make my statement, I said that my ex had attacked me, and Curt fought back in my defense.”

“Oh my god!”

“I tried dating other fellas after the dust settled, but Curt was always wildly protective, and made it difficult. I get why he did it.”

“He really is your protector isn’t he…”

“Until I found out he was the one who divulged my cocktail order to Everett…”

“Curt did!?”

“He did…” She smiled, the cigarette now burned nearly down to her fingers. “He surprises me in funny ways like that.”

“Insufferable, that one,” Olive chuckled. “But he really is a good egg.”

“What are you going to tell Blakely?” Tattie had joined them back in the main area of the hut. 

“That I love him too,” She grinned. “Because I do love him.”

Everett’s note to Val was now safely tucked into the book on her side table. The first I Love You now pressed gently between the pages of The Great Gatsby so that she could fix herself up in time for dinner. Eating in the Officers Mess meant putting on your cleanest uniform, and her coffee stained, donut greased, jumpsuit would not do. Not when Chick Harding was a few tables away, and the high ranking members of their airbase were dining in the same room. That’s what she told herself at least, as she sat in front of the mirror in her skirt and blouse, pinning her hair so that it fell neatly against her shoulders. 

The neatly pressed uniform was for The Brass, but the victory red lips, mascara on her lashes and rouge pinched cheeks were for Everett. She knew that even if she was still wearing a jumpsuit covered in grease or Meatball’s fur, he’d still pull her close and kiss her hello, but she liked the idea of getting primped for him. For looking clean on his arm when she knew he’d be showing up in a clean uniform as well. At the mirror next to her, Olive was doing the same thing. Painstakingly pinning her hair away from her face, and applying her lipstick just so that Dougie could kiss it off of her later, she was sure. 

“That color looks good on you.” 

“Yea?” Olive glanced at her in the reflection of the mirror, eyes only just meeting hers before going back to her hair. “It’s not too dark?”

“Not at all, it’s the perfect shade of red for you.”

“I think only you can pull off that Victory Red,” Olive chuckled. She remembered the first time Val had helped her get ready for the club and had applied her own red lipstick, the brighter red just not working with her skin at all. “It was not for me.”

“Oh gosh, do you remember how fast you wiped it off!”

“Immediate no,” Olive laughed, a sigh immediately following as she threw a hair pin to the table. “Ugh, this side does not want to cooperate!”

“Here, let me…” Val stood, coming to stand behind her as she deftly began rolling Olive’s hair between her fingers and pinning it back for her. 

“How do you do it?”

“From an early age my mother taught me to be a ‘proper lady’,” She shook her head before breaking out into an impression of her mother. “Valencia, don’t leave the house without lipstick on. Don’t forget to set your hair.”

Olive laughed fully at Val’s broken English accent, making it sound as if her Italian mother was in the room with them. 

“Is that what she sounds like?”

“Oh yes. And Nonna, not a word of English.”

“Well, you’re a whizz,” Olive looked up at her as she put the final pin in place. “I need to pay better attention when you do your hair.” 

“You’re doing just fine chickie,” Val winked, slipping on her watch and moving to pick her jacket up off the bed. “We were all there once.”

“Thanks,” Olive beamed, pushing back from the vanity and standing to put her own jacket on. “Now come on, it’s almost 5:30 and if I know those two…”

“They’re probably already outside.” Val finished for her. 

Ev stood with Doug outside, the two men smoking while quietly discussing their practice mission earlier today with the replacements. Ev had taken a handful of the new boys up, and leading the wing, tested them on formations, calling out patterns, and PR’s from the Navigators to Radio Men. Dougie had simulated a bomb drop, all the boys in Just A Snappin had watched to see just what the new boys were capable of. There had been two forts in particular they’d been impressed with, but for the most part, the new boys were as green as the paint on a B-17. 

“I wanted to take Ol to the pub tonight, but that's not happening…”

“I know,” Ev groaned. “I owe Val a date but, based on what Jack told me earlier, we're about to go through the mud for a bit.”

“This whole place is mud,” Doug grumbled. “Never stops raining.”

“This one sounds big…”

“He say where?”

“No, Harding’s keeping it close to the vest.”

“Dammit… it would be nice to know what we’re up against for once.”

““Yea,” Ev took a final pull of his cigarette before tossing it in the makeshift ashtray outside the girls’ hut. “Explains why he wants us looking after these new kids.”

“Fucking replacements…” Dougie sighed. 

“Those two from Laredo were damn good,” Ev raised an eyebrow at him. “Rosenthal and Nash?”

“That kid Rosie almost gave you a run for your money, pal.”

“I’m not worried about him,” Ev nodded. “But some of these other kids wouldn’t know formation if I had it painted on the wing.”

Douglass was about to reply with a quick remark about how they should paint it on the wing, when the door opened and Val and Olive appeared. Both girls in their Red Cross dress uniform, a far cry from the sleepy faces they had found at the Clubmobile earlier in the day. Ev’s gaze immediately found Val’s, his hazel eyes finding hers just as her smile widened. Obviously she had seen his note, she was ready at the time he had told her to be, but what had she thought of that truth bomb he had dropped? Suddenly a bit nervous, he played it off with a kiss, greeting her as he did every time they were together. 

“Hi, pretty,” He pulled back, smiling at her. “How was your day?”

“Oh my day was lovely, dear,” She teased. “Did you have fun with the replacements?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Taking her hand, he began leading her away from the hut, checking over his shoulder to find Olive and Doug still greeting each other. “Were they respectful at least when they showed up?”

“Oh, very!” She nodded. “I think one of the new boys might be from Brooklyn, but I need to find out.”

“Another face from home,” He shook his head with a smile. “You and Curt will love that.”

“He sounded it when I handed him his coffee earlier.” 

“Did you catch his name?”

“Rosenthal…”

“Oh, Rosie!” Ev’s eyes went wide. “His crew went up with us after they met with Chick. He’s a pilot and boy can he fly.”

“Yea? Him and his Co-Pilot passed through kind of quickly, but their friend took a shine to Helen and lingered.”

“Let me guess,” Ev laughed. “Nash?”

“Yes! How did you know?”

“He was yappin up a storm in the equipment hut about the pretty Red Cross girl who served him whiskey and Dougie and I heard him.”

“Dougie didn’t try to strangle him, did he?”

“No,” He punches out a laugh, recalling the week they’ve all just endured. “We had a feeling it was Helen since Tattie was in the truck when we left.”

“She’s smitten, that’s for sure.”

“Well, for his sake, he better treat her right.”

Val nodded in agreement as they reached the Officers Mess, Everett pulling the door open for her and allowing her to enter ahead of him. Once they were both inside, he led her to a table, one hand on the small of her back, the other quickly pulling his crush cap off and tucking it under his arm. He found Benny saving a few seats in the middle of the room, Croz already seated across from him, John Brady to his left. The three of them were talking animatedly, Meatball’s head resting between Croz and Brady. 

“Fellas,” Ev greeted, pulling out a chair for Val and waiting for her to sit. “How’re we all doing?”

“Blakely,” Brady offered in greeting. “Nice to see you outside the truck, Val.”

“You saw me in the club last night…”

“I know but, this is what Jules would call a proper conversation. So, it’s…”

“Nice to not be rushed off from the truck, or shouting over the band in the club. I hear you.”

“Exactly, yes.”

“Dougie with you, Ev?” Benny looked over at him, Ev now in the seat across from Val so that they could see each other. He also ventured a guess that she’d want Olive next to her. 

“He and Olive were behind us, should be here in a minute.”

“Are those two done fighting now?” Croz looked up from the table. 

“They had better be,” Demarco grumbled. “Otherwise I had Tattie Spaatz on my shoulders and stayed up till sunrise for nothing.”

“Wait, who was on your shoulders!?” Harry balked, his big brown eyes wide in shock. 

“Tattie… it’s a long story. But that one,” Benny gestured to Val with his thumb. “And her friends are all nosey and couldn’t let Doug and Olive make up in peace, so they had to spy through the windows.”

“What windows?” Brady chimed in. 

“These windows,” Ev laughed. “Doug and Olive came in here to talk-“

“No, you forced them in here to talk,” Val corrected him. “And I couldn’t see in the little window in the door, so I used the windows up there.”

“Jesus christ, Val!” Harry laughed. 

“Biddick was holding all the jackets, Dickie had Helen on his shoulders, it was certainly something.” Benny recalled, the moment Tattie started ordering him around coming to the forefront of his mind. 

As if on cue, James Douglass came sauntering over to the table with Olive tucked under his arm, the pair grinning like teenagers. 

“That about answer your question, Croz?” Val laughed. 

“Sure does.”

Doug, doing his best to behave like a gentleman, pulled the chair out next to Val for Olive, before rounding the table to take the seat next to Everett. 

“So, fellas, how’s it going then?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Dougie.” Brady grinned. 

“Oh I’m great!” Doug beamed, winking at Olive across the table. 

Val just catches her rolling her eyes at him before she turns towards Brady, the two of them discussing the letter Olive had received from his sweetheart Juliet earlier in the day. After Val had divulged her past to the girls in the hut, Olive had offered to lighten the mood by telling the girls all about the letter she had received from Juliet Thompson. Still flabbergasted by the sheer size of the letter, Val could only describe what the girl had written as a novel, and outside of James Douglass she had not seen anything capture Olive’s interest quite so much. 

“She write you an essay?” Brady jokes, and Val immediately knows that this is a common occurrence for Juliet. 

“She did, actually,” Olive nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” Dougie interjects. “We read it together.” The boys at the table break out into a roaring cheer at his remark, and Val see’s Olive’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red as she begins to laugh, Val falling into a fit of giggles alongside her.  

“James!” Olive scolds, hand finding Val’s on top of the table, the two of them with tears in their eyes. “Keep it quiet!” “Yeah, Doug,” Ev shakes his head in amusement, ruffling his hair a little. “Keep it quiet.”

Across the mess hall, Val see’s the pilot from earlier, Rosenthal, sitting at a table with a few other replacements. His Co-Pilot and Helen’s new eye candy, Nash are sitting with him, along with a few other members of who she assumes are both their crews. He catches her eye briefly, and she offers him a wave before turning back to Everett who’s talking about the crews he led up earlier. Brady had taken the Crash Wagon crew up on a practice run so as to avoid having to meet them, so he seems especially intrigued by what Ev has to say about how the new kids had flown. 

“Hey Val, looks like you’ve caught the eye of some of the replacements,” Benny gestures to the group of men at another table staring at her with what could only be described as hearts in their eyes. “Starry eyed kids.” 

“Rosenthal and his crew?” She sighed, shaking her head with a laugh.

“Uh, no actually…”

“What?” Everett’s head turns in the direction of where Benny is looking, his hazel eyes narrowing, his face taking on a dangerous scowl. 

“Everett, they’re not doing anything, they’re just-”

“Drooling at my girlfriend like a pack of dogs.” He practically growled, gaze fixated on the table of replacements. . 

“Ev, hey pal,” Dougie dropped a hand to his shoulder, shaking him out of it. “They’re just kids, they’ll learn.”

“Yea… learn not to ogle other people’s girlfriends.” His gaze still on the new kids, voice raised to get his point across. The faces of the replacements go pale as they realize that the woman they’ve been whispering about is the Captain’s girlfriend. 

“Everett…” Val warned. 

Before he could say anything, Gale Cleven’s voice carried over from the table with the replacements, the major standing with his hands on his hips as he addressed the boys now staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Fellas,” He nodded. “Those girls will get your utmost respect, understood?”

A chorus of yes, major echoed through the room, Buck nodding in satisfaction at their answer before moving on. 

“Boys, Miss Lewis, Miss Val,” He offered them all a smile, giving Val a slight wink knowing she heard him with the replacements. “Enjoy dinner everyone.”  

“Major,” Everett nodded. “Thank you sir.”

“You see?” Val nudged him gently, as Buck walked towards where John Egan was waiting for him with Curt and Dickie. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go all…”

“Green with envy?”

“Yea, that.”

“Don’t worry,” She grinned, picking her napkin up and placing it in her lap. “I only have eyes for you.”

——————————————————————

By the time dinner is finished, the lack of sleep has fully caught up with just about everyone, and the girls make the decision to forgo the Officers Club for the evening. Instead they choose to spend time sitting outside the Red Cross hut, taking the chairs they’ve commandeered from the club outside and propping the door open so that the record player can be heard. 

“Ev, we need to get a record player in our rack.” Doug laments, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Olive who's perched on his lap. 

“Croz has a record player,” Ev sighs, tucking Val into his side as they squeeze into the borrowed armchair together. 

“Yea, but he plays fancy stuff.” Dougie gripped around his Lucky Strike. 

“What exactly is fancy stuff, Doug?” Val laughs, peering over at him.

“You know, opera and stuff.”

“Classical music is nice. Nonna plays a lot of classical Italian at home, it’s actually quite nice.”

“What does Pearl play in her house, Ol?” Dougie ducks his head down to peer at his girlfriend, a smile blooming on her face at the mere mention of her grandmother. 

“Oh, a lot of Glenn Miller in her house.” She replies in a sigh, and Val can tell she’s thinking of home. 

The feeling of nostalgia spreads over them all like a warm blanket, the girls sharing anecdotes of home and growing up and living with their grandmothers. Val is practically draped over Everett in their shared seat, leaning over to get closer to Olive as she shares tales from the kitchen; making meatballs and sauce on Sundays, and arancini every time there’s a special occasion. That once she was old enough, Nonna DiRosano would beckon her into the kitchen and teach her how to prepare the traditional meals so that one day she could cook them for her own family. She recalls how up until the day she left for England, she would request a traditional Sunday meal for her birthday every year, no matter what day of the week it would fall on. She laughed thinking about how Curt and his mother would always need to be present at the table, the Irish woman and her son happy to share in delicacies that were special to their friends that had become like family. In turn, Val had also learned how to prepare a traditional St. Patrick’s Day meal from Mrs. Biddick; the older woman had once thought her son would be the apple of Val’s eye, and he was, but as a brother was to a sister. Still, she had insisted that Val learn, because one day I won’t be here to cook for my son, and heaven knows what kind of wife he’ll end up with. Val’s impression of Mrs. Biddick is spot on, her Irish accent something that has the others laughing and for a moment, forgetting all about where they are. That blanket of nostalgia is warm, tucked around them so snug, they can almost feel the softness of its cover. 

The boys, both enthralled at hearing all about how Val and Olive had grown up, begin to share some of their childhood memories as well. Everett is quick to share that he was a troublemaker of a child, something that Val immediately finds amusing because as much as he enjoys putting his feet up and having fun, her Everett is the most GI of GI’s according to the other men around base. She’s hard pressed to agree with them, because when the time comes for a mission, he’s all business. Tattie and Helen join them as Everett is in the middle of telling a story about how nothing fragile was ever safe in his parent’s home, his hazel eyes bright with childlike mischief before he morphed into his best impression of his mother, just to get a rise out of his audience. 

“All I heard was, and it scared the life out of me, let me tell ya, was ‘Everett Ernest, if you so much as look at that vase–’” He crowed, Val laughing from her spot in his lap. 

“Wait, wait!” Olive shakes her head, wanting to make sure she heard him correctly. “Your middle name is Ernest?”

“Yes, and what of it, English?” He fires back with a grin. 

“I'm sorry, it's just–” Her own laughter takes the words right out of her mouth, her head thrown back onto Doug’s shoulder. “I didn't expect that. You don't–”

The laughter takes over once more, Everett shaking his head at her antics, the pilot now hiding his face in Val’s shoulder. 

“Oh come on, Ol!” Val laughs, her fingers combing through Everett’s hair. 

“You don't look like an Ernest, that's all.”  She finishes. 

“Go on then, what's yours?” Ev challenges her, eyes narrowed. 

“Maude.” She giggles, catching the glint in his eye as she says it. 

“Maude?” It's his turn to laugh now, the sound carrying across the open night air. “Jesus, Ol, that's worse than Ernest!” 

“I think it's cute,” Dougie says, sweetly tapping her nose gently.  

“Thank you!” Her nose wrinkles sweetly under his finger. “I think so too.” 

“I think Ernest is adorable,” Val grins, turning to face him, Olive and Dougie now in their own little world. “Suits you very well.”

“What’s yours?” Ev prods, his hand coming up to twirl a loose curl around his finger. 

“Chiara,” She sighs. “Valencia Chiara.”

“Beautiful…” He whispers, bringing her face closer to his, noses touching just so. 

“You think so?”

He nods gently, the space between them almost non-existent. 

Val can feel him tense up underneath her, his body going stiff as they remain pressed close together. There’s a pretty good idea of what might have caused it running laps in her mind, and she resolves to finally put the man under her out of his misery with a bit of teasing. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…” 

“Ev, you’re really tense.” She pushes, trying to get him to crack. 

“No, no I’m okay,” He shifts under her, and she can tell he’s practically begging his body to relax. “Honest.”

“You don’t seem okay…”

“Promise, I’m okay.” 

“Would it make you feel better if you knew that I loved you too?” Peering down at him, her eyes are dancing with mirth as her mouth turns up into a smile. 

“Yes, actually it would-wait… you’ve been holding onto that all night havent you?”

“Well, you sprung it on me,” She teased. “I thought, only fair to return the favor.”

You’re terrible…” His whole body relaxes under her, his head tipping back to rest on the back of the chair. He’s smiling, the same smile as the first time he brought her a drink at the club, and asked her to dance just two months ago. 

“Maybe I am. But, you love me in spite of it.”

“I do love you…I love you so much Val.” His mouth slants over her’s without a second thought, one hand tangled in her hair as the other wraps around her waist and holds her close. They’re so lost in each other, this moment, that they don’t hear Tattie clearing her throat as she takes a seat on the short brick wall at the front of the hut, nor do they hear Doug and Olive trying to get their attention. 

“Hellooo,” Tattie calls out to them. “Lovebirds, the rest of us are still here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yea yea, we know.” Val waves her away, tucking herself back into Everett’s chest. 

“Did you tell him?” Olive presses. 

She’s smiling as she takes the cigarette from Doug, his blue eyes narrowing playfully before snatching it back from between her lips just as soon as she’s taken a pull from it. 

“What do you think?” Val winks.

The girls break out into a gaggle of squeals and laughter, both Everett and Dougie looking on as they smile and carry on with glee. Seeing them outside of the truck and in their uniforms, smiling and carrying on as girls were meant to, not under the din of war and loss, made both the boys smile. Tattie pulls her cigarettes out, lighting the last one and tossing the box to the side. She passes it to Val, who takes a pull before passing to Helen who’s sitting between the two couples. 

Helen, the most inexperienced smoker, keeps coughing at each drag she takes. Each cough is dainty and delicate, in a way that only Helen can manage. 

“Helen, doll,” Olive urges. “Put that out, you're hurting yourself!”

“I don't wanna look like the party pooper!” She gripes.

“I can promise, you're not,” Olive laughs, gesturing with a wave of her hand to give her the cigarette, the tip covered in her lipstick. 

As she stubs it out, four men round the corner, all of them wide eyed as they spot both Captains sitting outside so casually. Val looks up with a grin and waves, beckoning them over while Helen visibly swoons at the sight of the thin, dark haired pilot. 

“Ohhhh,” Olive teases, knowingly. “Is that Nash?.”

Helen giggles, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind her ear as she nods shyly.   

“Oh, Helen, your hair is fine.” Olive guffaws, shaking her head.

The quartet of replacements approaches hesitantly, Nash immediately making a beeline for Helen without so much as a wave to Val and Olive, or acknowledging Ev and Doug. They take it in stride as Val stands from Everett’s lap to greet Rosie, Pappy and the third man who she hasn’t officially met yet. 

“Rosie,” Ev extends his hand for him to shake before moving to do the same with the other two men. “Fellas, enjoying yourselves?”

“Captain Blakely,” Rosie nods, standing straight. “Miss Val.”

“Rosie, it’s alright, you don’t have to do that out here,” Everett insists with a kind smile. “We’re all just shooting the breeze.” 

“Yea, come join us,” Val grins at them, turning to wave Olive over towards where they’re gathered. “Olive, come meet the new fellas!”

Olive is off Doug’s lap like a shot, pulling Tattie with her as she joins Val and Everett with the new boys. The girls don’t see Everett slip backwards towards where Doug is still sitting, leaving Val to introduce the new boys to both Tattie and Olive. 

“Olive, Tattie, this is Robert,” Val begins. “His Co-Pilot Pappy, Speas is Nash’s Co-Pilot and Nash is…where's he gone off to?”

“I'll give ya three guesses,” Pappy wiggles his eyebrows. 

“That was fast.” Olive titters. “He's keen.”

“He sure is.” He says, looking at Olive. “Sorry Miss…?”  

“Lewis. Olive Lewis.”

 “No way!” He gestures to himself, hand coming to his chest in a fit of excitement. “Pappy Lewis!” 

“Oh?!” Olive squeals, clutching at his arm in excitement before remembering her surroundings. “I mean, it's a pretty common name, Pappy.”

“Never met a Brit with the same one before though,” He ponders. “Truth be told, I’ve never met a Brit until just now.”

“It’s your lucky day,” Olive grins at him. “A Brit and a long lost cousin all at once.” 

“Hey, Rosie!” He hollers, unaware that his pilot is still standing right next to him, watching the entire thing unfold with Val and Tattie. “Came all the way to England and found my cousin!”

“Pappy, she's not–” He tries to reason. 

Pappy pulls Olive into a one armed hug, the over excited man resembling Meatball when he’s tied to the pole outside the Clubmobile and trying to get attention from everyone as they pass by on their way. Olive quickly pulls Pappy over towards Doug, and Val can see the excitement on both of their faces at the blooming friendship between them; Olive doing exactly what Val had been questioning all afternoon. The question of caring too much, getting too attached, seeming millions of miles away as new friends blended with old friends, something special igniting between all of them. 

“Rosie, ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head to the rack and get some sleep,” Speas addresses the group. “It’s been a day.”

“Oh, of course, go on then. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Val waves goodnight, before watching as he claps Rosie on the shoulder before turning towards their designated hut. 

“We won’t be long,” Rosie nods after him. “Nash is probably going to be a while, but I’ll wait for Pappy.”

“Come sit,” Val turns back towards where they had all been gathered earlier. “The record player is still going, and we’re just relaxing.”

“I don’t want to intrude, really.”

“Robert-”

“Rosie’s fine, Miss Val.”

“Just Val, please.”  She narrows her eyebrows playfully at him as she takes her seat back outside the hut, Everett standing to pull Doug’s now empty chair over for Rosie to sit in, while Pappy takes a seat on the half wall next to Tattie. 

“Yea, come on fellas, no pressure,” Ev pulls out his cigarettes, offering one to Rosie who politely declines. Pappy accepts, lighting it before offering to share it with Tattie. “Besides, she’s been itching to ask you a few questions.”

“Everett,” She rolls her eyes, but stops when she realizes Olive and Doug are nowhere to be found. “Hey, where’d they go? Are they reading again?”

“They went for a walk,” He gave her a look that said there was more to it, but he didn’t want to kill the mood. “But I changed the record after they left.” 

“Artie Shaw…” Rosie commented, picking up on the melody coming from the open door of the Red Cross hut. 

“The man knows his stuff,” Pappy commented. “I’m surprised he’s not playing with Benny Goodman instead.”

“Do you play?” Everett asked, forearms braced on his thighs as he focused on Rosie. 

“No, not a note,” Rosie chuckled, turning towards Everett. “My mother and sister though, boy can they play.”

“So, you prefer Rosie over Robert then…”

“My mother calls me Robert.” His face twists into something childish, and she can immediately tell he misses his mother, but maybe doesn’t miss hearing his full name all the time. 

“And his sweetheart calls him Robbie!” 

“Pappy!”

“What! I’m just letting them know!” He shrugs from where he’s sitting, a laugh bubbling up that he tries to cover with a cough. 

“Okay, so, Rosie, what part of Brooklyn are you from?” Val turns to him, a twinkle in her eye. 

“How did you-”

“I’m from Bensonhurst.” She grins, red lips stretched wide as she sees Rosie’s eyes widen in recognition.

“I grew up in Flatbush!”

“Oh we’re practically neighbors!” She turned to Ev with a smile, explaining. “Flatbush and Bensonhurst are ten minutes apart, honey.”

“Yeah, guess we are!”

“And is your sweetheart in Flatbush too?” She prods. 

“She is, yeah…”

“What’s her name?” Everett asks, flicking the ash of his cigarette to the ground before tossing it into the ashtray. 

“Josephine,” Rosie smiles, a far off look in his eye. “I uhh, I call her Jo.”

“Rosie Rosenthal, you and I are going to be great friends.” Val nods, immediately feeling a sense of peace with Rosie and Pappy. 

Val makes a mental note to introduce Rosie to Croz, knowing that his wife is living by herself in the city and could probably use a friend to help pass the time. Based on the friendly disposition of the man, she could only surmise that his Josephine was as mild mannered and kind as he had been so far, and as a fellow Brooklyn girl, Val had resolved to write to her once she got to know Rosie a little better. If she were on the opposite side of things, she would want someone telling her how Everett was truly managing while overseas. Then again, if she had remained on the other side of things, she wouldn’t know Everett, and would simply be waiting for letters from England from Curt. He was another one who she had made a mental note to introduce to Rosie, though she wondered if Curt’s brash personality would be too much for the soft spoken boy from Flatbush. Then again, you could never have too many friends. 

“Hey uh, let me ask you something,” Pappy garnered the attention of the group. “Did I see a dog running around the hardstands earlier?”

“That’s Meatball,” Tattie groaned, catching a look from Val. “What! Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?” Val laughed, knowing exactly where Tattie was headed.

“Yea, Tat, Meatball’s a good boy,” Ev cut in teasingly. “He loves you, why don’t you love him?”

“Oh I like him just fine, Blakely,” She chuckled. “But I don’t like my clothes covered in doggy fur, or when he gets inside the Clubmobile.”

“Wait wait, hold on,” Pappy leans forward, eyes wide in amusement. “His name is Meatball?”

“Yes.”

“And he goes into the Clubmobile?”

“Yes.”

“What, does he make coffee and donuts too?”

“Oh no, he’s Benny DeMarco’s dog,” Everett chuckled. “He won him in a game of craps when we came over from Greenland.”

“He brought that dog up in a B-17?!” Rosie balked, eyes the size of saucers, reminiscent of when Val had found out how the Husky had made it to Thorpe Abbotts. 

“He did, yea. Got him a mask and everything.” Ev laughed, remembering how Benny had paid a whole three dollars for a mask for Meatball before loading him into Our Baby in Greenland. 

The five of them sat there a while longer, casual conversation and laughter surrounding them with ease. That blanket from earlier, the softness and warmth that had covered them had returned, the air around them comfortable and calm. A moment that had Val wondering just how long it would last. How long would it be before the light was on, and the boys were rushing between the briefing hut and the hardstand. Coffee and a donut for the road, a goodbye kiss and a prayer to return safely. Waiting in the Interrogation Hut to count the forts as they returned, rosary beads clutched between her fingers, and watchful eyes counting the men as they staggered back from their mission. 

As the thoughts swirled in her mind, the sound of the siren cut through the night air and pulled the blanket off them with a vengeance. Red Bowman’s voice fell upon them as the siren came to a stop, his thick New England accent the only thing anyone could hear. 

The light was on. 

Everyone back to your racks.

It was as if she had willed it to happen just by hoping it wouldn’t. 

“Well boys, you heard the man, light’s on.” Ev groaned, standing from his chair, hands held out to help Val as she moved to stand. 

“The light?” Pappy asked, brows knit together.

“We’re flying tomorrow,” He nodded, gesturing to all the men filtering out of the Officer’s Club and back to their racks. “Better head back to your racks, you’ll find out in the morning if you’re on stand down or not.”

“Alright then,” Rosie stood, gesturing for Pappy to follow him. “Thanks for the warm welcome, everyone. Everett, Val, Tattie, have a good night.”

“G’night Rosie, Pappy,” Tattie waved, making her way inside the hut. “Val, I’ll give you two a minute.”

“Thanks Tat,” She smiled. “I’ll be in soon.”

With Rosie and Pappy gone, and Tattie in the hut, Everett took the opportunity to pull Val aside and give her a proper good night. 

“You alright?” He looked down at her, his arms coming to rest around her waist as he held her close. “You look a little spooked.”

“No, I’m alright,” She peered up at him. “I just worry every time that god forsaken light goes on and you have to go back up.”

“Hey, I promise I’m always going to fight to come back to you.”

“Always?”

“Every single time,” He smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear before pressing his lips gently to her forehead. “We have a lot ahead of us, Valencia Chiara.”

“Oh do we now, Everett Ernest?”

“We do,” He winked, tugging her closer. “And I love you.”

She would never tire of those words coming from him. Nor would she tire of saying them back. 

“I love you too,” She whispered, leaning up on her toes to meet his lips with her own. “So much.”

They stood there a few moments longer, holding each other closely while savoring the last few moments of quiet before chaos would ultimately descend on Thorpe Abbotts. Peaceful in each other's arms, safe together. Until Red Bowman’s voice was booming over the tannoy. Again. 

JAMES DOUGLASS! BED NOW!

Val stood, face pressed against Everett’s chest as they stood there cuddling. The giggle bubbling in her chest burst free in one loud cackle as Olive and Dougie came skidding around the side of the hut, laughing like school kids. She hoped that no matter what, the playfulness that they all shared would always find its way back to them after touching back down on the ground after each flight. Oh, how she loved it so. 

Part Seven

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!

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @precious-little-scoundrel @beingalive1

[coriolanussnowswife]

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐚

𝑍𝑢𝑘𝑜

𝑆𝑜𝑘𝑘𝑎 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐽𝑒𝑡 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑦 𝐽𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑠𝑜𝑛 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐿𝑢𝑘𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐺𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑈𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑤𝑜𝑜𝑑 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐿𝑒𝑜 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑧 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 100

𝐵𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑦 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑘𝑒 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐽𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑀𝑢𝑟𝑝ℎ𝑦 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑏 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑟 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝑇𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑎𝑠 (𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑟) 𝐸𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑛 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬

𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 (𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦) | 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝐷𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

𝐵𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑖𝑑 (𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡)

[euph0riacc]

Last Line Tag

Tagged by the lovely @swifty-fox and @reallylilyreally

From the ‘Say It’ Sequel: the Splakely fic:

“You came,” he looks caught off guard, like he hadn’t really thought Ev would come.

“You invited me,” Ev says, just to make the other man twitch. He pushes past Speirs and makes his way into the hallway, duffel clutched tightly in his fist for all that he exuded calm.

Speirs grumbles from behind him. “You invited yourself.”

“Same thing.” Ev hears the lock snick behind him and he turns then, knowing that they’re safely behind the privacy of the front door, the rest of the street and Speirs’ neighbors kept firmly out. He lights a cigarette, the first one since he left the house last night, and feels the rush of nicotine hit his system with the first inhale. It washes over him in a wave, sweeping away the dregs of exhaustion that stubbornly linger.

He burns through half of his cigarette before Speirs takes it from him; wedges it between his teeth and makes his way into the kitchen with Ev on the back of his heels.

The apartment is small, compact even for one man alone, and yet Speirs has still managed to make it look practically empty. There’s very little furniture apart from the bare necessities; a rickety table with one crooked leg, two equally crooked chairs, a desk and a single lamp with no lampshade, only a flickering bulb. Ev switches it off, they don’t need it on with the morning sun illuminating the room.

This is worse than I thought

Tagging: @avonne-writes @anachilles @moghraidhs @soliloquy-dawn - mwahahah show me your secrets!

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐣. 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist ! i hope you enjoy this

John Murphy - Dropship

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ You hated Murphy since you landed on the ground, you didn't expect for him to awaken something in you. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: shameless Murphy smut, plot, some violence, nsfw

Life on the ground was incredible.

It was like nothing I could've ever imagined, even though there were threats, such as the grounders and unstudied plants due to radiation- but none as big as John Murphy.

Everywhere I looked he'd be there; infecting everything with his toxins. The power Bellamy had given him went straight to his head, he truly believed he was better than everyone.

He seemed to know I hated him, and he gladly reciprocated that. His way of showing me? By humiliating me every chance he got.

I hadn't understood why he hated me, I had always tried to be nice to everyone around camp; even him at times, but he knew just how to wear my patience thin.

I had been peacefully minding my business skinning the newly fresh rabbit brought in by the hunting party. The game they brought was enough to feed everyone for the next two weeks. A deer, two bunnies, and a bird. One girl also brought in a few plants for me to work with for seasoning.

I was the camp butcher and cook, having sadly lost the previous ones. Everyone always adored my cooking and I tried to work with what we had.

Well, everyone except Murphy.

"What're you doing?"

The voice hit my ears like nails on a chalkboard, I didn't need to turn around to know who was about to pester me into a hole.

"What do you think I'm doing roach," I ask with heavy annoyance in my voice, still focused on skinning the rabbits while the water for the stew boiled.

"Poisoning the camp with your horrendous cooking," I could hear him walking closer to me, and my patience grew thin with every step.

"just go away-" I had been cut off by a loud crash.

He had kicked the pot of boiling water over into the dirt, drawing the attention of others.

This was my final straw.

Gripping the knife in my hand I swiftly grabbed Murphy, holding the bloodied knife to his throat.

"Fuck you, Murphy!" I shouted the blood from the rabbit was now on his neck.

Fear was masked behind ego in his eyes, I could tell he was scared by the way his hands defensively went up.

"I'm sorry, alright!" He spewed, something was relieving about hearing those words, seeing him so afraid of me. Though, anybody would be afraid.

Deep down I knew I wouldn't kill him, I knew the consequences of that. Killing Murphy wouldn't be worth getting tossed out of camp.

It had only been a few seconds before Bellamy was pulling me off of him. I didn't fight it, I just glanced around at everyone before picking up the pot and heading out to the river to collect more water while also clearing my mind.

There were never any final straws with Murphy around.

When I returned back to camp the air was thick with tension, and eyes were locked onto me as I prepped the broth for the rabbit meat.

I wasn't sure what Murphy could've told them, and I didn't care, if they chose to believe the cockroach then humanity was doomed.

It only took an hour to get the soup ready, everyone leaving me alone. I hadn't spotted Murphy yet, he wasn't terrorizing anyone, not making his presence known.

Was one threat really all it took to get rid of him?

Once I set up food for everyone I headed towards my shared ten with Raven, exhaustion quickly catching up with me. I had long forgotten about Murphy, the only thing on my mind was a peaceful night's rest.

Entering the tent I shrugged off my shirt, trying to change into a new one when I felt someone grab me from behind, making a yelp rupture from me.

I felt something cold and sharp press against my neck, fear instantly climbing up my spine as I thrashed around. The person's hand went to cover my mouth as he leaned in towards my ear.

"What're you gonna do now?" He whispered threateningly.

I instantly knew who it was, his scent invading my nose in a surprisingly good way. I tried to fight it, the thoughts of how his hands were on me felt good, this was no moment to think about Murphy like this.

He was holding a knife to my throat for fucks sake!

Knowing Murphy I thought he was really going to kill me, I soon felt regret for holding that knife to him.

I stopped thrashing around as it was no use, my breathing became wild as I prepared for the worst.

"Giving in to me so easily?" His hand uncovered my mouth, fingers still touching my lips.

"Suck," He demanded, his tone of voice was strong despite being hushed so nobody would hear.

This was the last thing I'd expect to happen with Murphy.

I couldn't help the lower sensation begin to rise throughout my entire body as I opened my mouth, Murphy's fingers instantly invaded the wet and warm place. I felt fuzzy and vulnerable all over, soon realizing I was enjoying this.

"Good girl," He said, making my thighs clench together, trying to get any type of friction to my clit.

Over time the blade on my neck didn't scare me, the fear turned to pleasure. My lower body became needy, the taste of his fingers being engraved into my mind as I was sucking wildly as if it was Murphy's cock and not just his fingers.

I could sense his smirk after I let out a soft moan, he was enjoying this too. Having me under his control, to do whatever he wanted with me. The thought could've made me cum then and there.

"Remember this next time," He whispered into my ear.

His knife trailed up and down my body, making me shiver at the coldness of the metal.

He suddenly retracted his hands to his sides, making me miss his fingers and the authority he held over me.

I turned around and he was leaving the tent, the taste of his fingers still vivid in my mouth.

I had debated running after him and demanding an explanation but I stood there, starstruck.

It didn't take long for me to snap back into reality, the thoughts I had about Murphy hit me like a train, embarrassment suddenly replacing the feeling before. I tried reminding myself I hated him, but despite everything I told myself, my body longed for his touch once again.

I wasn't sure what possessed me that night, I was sure it'd pass after a night's sleep. But I wasn't even safe in my dreams, his touch followed me everywhere.

Who knew weeks of hate could diminish with a few touches?

Though I still hated him.

I was sure of that.

But I couldn't stop my attraction.

I couldn't stop my mind from roaming in places it shouldn't.

I couldn't.

The only day I wish he annoyed me, he didn't. He would walk right past my butcher table, right by me. As if the previous night hadn't happened, as if his fingers didn't fill my mouth searching every crevice and crease.

Every so often Id catch him stealing glances at me- or at least I thought I did.

But I knew it was true when he was the first in line for breakfast, taking an extra long time to pick out his decision, forcing the tension between us to grow thicker. It was like he was torturing me like he knew just how bad I needed him.

The feeling had become too much for me, I quickly filled the bowls for dinner and rushed off to my tent once again, needing to relieve myself at least a little bit. I knew Raven was working with Monty in the dropship to figure out the wristbands so I had a bit of time to myself.

Rushing into my tent I dropped my pants and threw them onto a nearby chair. I climbed into the makeshift bed and began sucking on my own fingers, trying to mimic Murphy's movements the best I could.

I couldn't believe myself, getting off to the guy I despised with every ounce of my being. The way his middle part looked, how his nose was a bit too big for his face, how dark his blue eyes looked. I imagined every part of him, going back to that night in my mind.

My other hand snaked down to my clothed pussy, rubbing myself through the fabric while a series of moans escaped my occupied lips.

"Murphy..." I let out unrestrained, speeding up my movements.

"Yeah?" I heard someone ask.

My eyes instantly shot open as I scrambled up, staring at the one and only Murphy. How did he keep sneaking in her without me hearing?

He walked closer to me, "Don't let me stop you," He spoke, staring down at me.

I was frozen with shock, unable to process what just happened. How much had he seen? My face must've been a bright red by now.

"Too scared now? I said, Don't let me stop you." His hands found their way to my throat, giving it a light squeeze. I wasn't sure of his motives but I knew, in this moment, I was more turned on than ever.

The grip he had on my throat only turned me on more, now soaking through my panties.

I shakily began rubbing myself through my panties again, my nerves shooting through the roof. The man Id been having fantasies about was now watching me fuck myself.

Murphy swiftly unbuckled his belt and undid his zipper, bringing his hard cock out in front of my face, the sight had me drooling while he smirked down at me.

"Put that practice to good use," He spoke, tapping his tip on my lips, the hand on my throat now running to my hair, grabbing a fist full of it causing me to open my mouth just enough for him to thrust into it. He released a low groan at the initial feeling, the taste of his cock now invading my mouth.

I swirled my tongue around the shaft of his dick while he fucked mercilessly into my mouth, gripping my hair tighter every time to keep me still. With every thrust he hit the back of my throat, sending chills down my entire body.

"Thought you hated me," He said in between grunts, "Now you have my dick in your mouth," His familiar smirk was still planted on his face, he'd never let me live this down.

I felt his dick twitch in my mouth before he pulled out, tear snow streaming down my face.

"Fuck you," I said in between breaths, regaining my composure.

"Yeah, don't worry, you're about to." He took me by the arm and made me lay flat with my ass in the air.

His hands grabbed and slapped at my ass, making me squeak out pathetic moans. Grabbing the waistband of my panties he dragged them down, revealing my soaked pussy.

"You sure you hate me?"

Before I could reply he had already trusted into my pussy, giving me no warning. the sudden filling made my back arch. Murphy threw his head back, relishing the feeling of my tight pussy around his dick.

He didn't let me adjust before he was thrusting deep inside of me, unable to control his urges. The pleasure was unlike anything of felt before, his length made it so easy to hit every spot inside me, spots I'd never even known of.

"I hate you!" I moaned out, I wasn't sure if it was true or not anymore, I just didn't wanna give him the satisfaction of knowing I loved being fucked by him.

"Want me to stop?" He retorted. He knew I didn't want him to stop, so when I didn't answer he grabbed a fist full of my hair again, forcing me to prop my arms up to support myself. The grip on my hair only helped him pound into me further, not giving me any chance to think.

I wasn't just full of Murphy, I was full of hatred. I hated the fact I enjoyed this so much, hated the fact I never wanted it to end, hated the fact he could make me feel this good, hated how much I loved this.

"Fuck, Murphy!" I felt the familiar wave of my climax race up my body, making me shake with pleasure as I came around his dick. This didn't stop Murphy, in fact, it only fueled him more.

"Just let it out," He spoke breathily, my arms felt like they were gonna give out but before they could he pulled my hair, bringing my back to his chest as he held me up. "Let everyone in camp know how good you feel right now,"

His hands snaked up my body to my neck, giving it a tight squeeze, something I never thought I'd be into until Murphy.

"I hate you," I moaned out between cries and breaths, my sweet spot now becoming sensitive as he kept relentlessly fucking me.

"Sure looks like it," He smirked into my shoulder, now beginning to suck and bite as his own climax was nearing the edge.

The grip on my neck was enough to make me cum again, the tightening helping Murphy reach his own high.

Murphy quickly pulled out of me, shooting his load onto the ground of the tent, laying his head in the crook of my neck while he caught his breath. I leaned into his touch while his hands slid up and down my sides, tracing each curve with admiration.

"Same time tomorrow?" He asked muffled.

"Go fuck yourself,"

Despite my words, he knew I wanted it just as bad as he did.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[miaemilia]

"After losing his entire unit with the exception of his best friend Miller, Bellamy finds himself back home from deployment and at odds with his old life, struggling to find himself in a world that's not the military, and ignoring the obvious signs of what is really going on with him. Clarke owns a therapy ranch in the middle of nowhere that takes on people who need a safe space to recover and heal while getting back on their feet but can Bellamy find it in himself to let go of his automatic distrust in this entitled Princess enough to let her help him?"

[alouiadina]

Mafia

A couple weeks back @avonne-writes and I talked about au's for buff Gale and twink John, and one of them was a mafia au, and I've decided that I'd like to make it more detailed.

So, Gale is head of a mafia, don't know which one. He killed his father for the position, but nobody mentions it out of fear/respect/ they like Gale better than his father. He gets rid of anybody he thinks is still loyal to his father, and replaces them with people he trusts. Rosie is his right hand, can be tough but is still shy and sweet, a similar story with Crosby. And a thing with Crosby that really isn't important to the story, but Crosby is cheating on his wife with Bubbles, not Sandra, then they get a divorce while his and Bubbles' relationship continues. Other people like Dickie, DeMarco, Blakely are also there.

On the other side of things, Curt and Bucky work at a diner. It opened in like the 40s/50s and the style never really updated since. They're both working there while attending college.

Anyway, for one reason or another, Gale, Rosie, Harry, etc. go to the diner, which is called Andy's or Jack's diner or something. Bucky's the server, and there's immediate attraction between the two of them. There's light flirting, and Gale ends up giving Bucky a generous tip. Gale starts coming in at least once a week, always leaving a generous tip for Bucky, always flirting. Bucky gives Gale the nickname "stalker," though he doesn't actually know how fitting that nickname is. That is until one night when Bucky is walking home from work (Curt, who's usually his ride, wasn't working that day, and is maybe hooking up with Dickie) and he gets mugged.

Bucky ends up getting stabbed when trying to avoid getting mugged, and Gale makes himself known. He nearly beats the man to death before bringing Bucky to his car and taking him to Helen, who's a close friend and nurse. After Helen stitches Bucky up, Gale drives Bucky to his apartment, which freaks Bucky out, telling Gale to give him some space.

Harding is a detective with a strained marriage who is a bit of a father figure to Bucky. Omitting some details, Bucky tells him that he got stabbed coming home from work. With some pressing, he brings up Gale, but not the fact that he knew where Bucky lived and that he wasn't taken to a hospital to do it. Harding warns him against seeing Gale.

Some stuff happens, Bucky forgives Gale for stalking him, as without him, Bucky would've not had his knife whole stitched up. Their relationship kind of fast tracks so that the two of them become one of those horny for each other couples. He also finds out Harding and his wife are getting a divorce, and that he's starting to see his partner, Jack. Jean and Harry's divorce happen here, Curt and Dickie get eloped.

Maybe Bucky gets kidnapped and Gale gets scary. Who knows, that's all I have. (also, ken is somehow in this story and his and Rosie's relationship develop in the background)

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 7

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer! Reveal x Reader

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been receiving?

Warnings: Secret admirer identity reveal, impending fluff. Mentions of blood and injuries.

Word Count: ~1.1k

Writing something so loving and soft literal days after a breakup has been wild.

Masterlist Previous Next-Coming soon!

x x x

The weak shower stream washed away the dried blood and dirt but did nothing for the deep ache in your chest or knot in your stomach. The tepid water fended off your exhaustion a little longer as you avoided your bed, deciding it was time to visit the infirmary when your hands bled through fresh bandages. The doctor had sent you an incredulous glare when you unwrapped the blood stained cloth to reveal your wounds. What you had originally written off to be superficial turned out to be more serious as tiny shards of rock and glass had embedded themselves in your torn flesh.

Hours passed while a nurse picked out all the tiny specks with tweezers, the stinging pain enough to keep you awake, though you hardly felt lucid.

You had waited months, searching every face for the identity of your writer but he had been in front of you this entire time, close enough to touch- if Egan was correct. You thought back to how the initial letter cited your first interaction as the captivating moment. The second letter about dancing- he had watched as Douglass twirled you around the pub and he had departed to deliver the letter in perfect time.

“Save me a dance.” The throw away words felt so fresh in your head as they rang like an echo. Egan had to be wrong, the writer himself had previously admitted he thought himself unworthy so why in that moment would he decide to go against himself?

The nurse had just finished wrapping your hands with clean bandages when you heard the first whisper from a visiting soldier, a partial crew from the Bremen raid had made it back, they were a little banged up but lucky to be alive.

You bounded out of the infirmary before the nurse could suggest you stay for some rest. You paused a few feet from the hall as the door burst open, airmen departing to prepare themselves for the impending flight. Two men trailed behind, both battered but in high spirits.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Douglass nudged Blakely roughly with his elbow, “She cut her vacation short just for us.”

“Shut up.” The force at which you threw your arms around the bombardier had nearly tackled him to the ground. It was the first time since he had caused the big scene that you acknowledged him at all. “I thought you went down.”

“It was a close call,” He squeezed you tighter before pulling back to boast about his friends pilotting abilities, “But Ev got us back to England.”

Blakely was prepared to brush off the praise until he allowed himself to look at you. Behind the obvious exhaustion in your eyes swirled a deep mix of emotions. Dougie would swear the pilot went pale in the moment as realization dawned that you knew the truth.

“I am going to get cleaned up.” The bombardier excused himself, patting his friend on the back to convey support.

“You know?” His voice shook slightly with uncertainty of how this situation was going to play out. He knew that he should have confessed long ago but keeping the letters anonymous allowed him to live with the illusion you could ever feel the same for him.

“Major Egan told me he suspected you were the one writing the letters, I think he just wanted someone to feel a similair pain and sense of loss that he is feeling.” You explained, glancing over your shoulder as you felt Douglass’s presence linger in the distance. “Surely Dougie didn’t know this entire time?”

Blakely scratched the back of his neck as his nerves grew, he was unable to read your thoughts on the situation. “I may have confessed to my crew once our engines gave out, I figured if at least one person made it back then you wouldn’t be left wondering the rest of your life.”

“Yearning.” You corrected in a callback to the second letter. You watched the pilot fidget nervously, something that was unusual for a man that was seemingly so sure of himself. “I think we should find somehwhere to talk.”

Another mission being underway meant most of Thorpe Abbotts was quiet for the moment, not a single soul noticed you follow the Captain into the mens billet. You were thankful for the solice of the empty cabin, away from any prying eyes or ears.

Blakely was sure this would be the moment you scold him for his blind foolishness. “I understand if you believe I have crossed a line-“

“Every day I have reread those letters, I have traced the ink with my fingers so many times that it has begun to fade. When John told me that you were writing the letters I could not believe it, certainly we did not know the same Everett Blakely?” The shake in your legs had you leaning against the closed door as you attempted to reground yourself. “I don’t think there are words to describe how relieved I am that you made it back, that I get to move forward loving you and not grieving what could have been.”

Your admission felt as though you had knocked the breath clear out of his lungs.

You smiled at him ever so sweetly, dragging his usual charming smile out from under his anxiety. His hand tenderly brushed your clavicle before resting behind your ear. One of your fingers traced along his slim cheek bone, twirling the curl that hung over his forehead.

“I thought about this once.” You spoke in a whisper, afraid to disturb the softness of the moment. “In London, I was in the bath-“

“Scandalous.” His tone was low but teasing and his breath tickled the crook of your neck making you shiver in his embrace.

“It was merely the fantasy of a tender moment just like this, it was like I could feel your touch on my skin.” You took his hand gently, maneuvering it so the rough pads of his fingertips ran over the vein of your throat. “Maybe a part of me knew it was you all this time.”

“Is that why you tried to ask Dougie about the English Rain the night he bartered for a dance?”

You gasped softly in realization as you recalled how the man in your arms had attempted to hide his smirk when you questioned his clueless friend. You did not have the opportunity to speak on the matter as Everett tilted your head ever so slightly to place his lips on yours.

x x x

Reading everyones thoughts and theories had me giggling and kicking my feet. The Mota fandom is so supportive, love y’all.

Sorry if I mislead any Egan fans… oopsies. Also I see you Brady fans, I may have something upcoming in the works.

@jointherebellion215 @orchiidflwer @probabydeadbynow @claireelizabeth85 @solo-pitstop-vibes @timetowastetime8 @aterriblelangblr @beingalive1

[pending125]

My first crossover fic ever! RWBY X unOrdinary !!!

Summary: Yang fell first, and she hoped she was the only one who fell. As she adapts to life on an unfamiliar planet, she begins to see pieces of herself, and those dearest to her, in the people around her.

Or,

John returns to Wellston after his suspension and finds a new, mysterious security guard, not much older than himself, has started working at the school.

[blvckqwz]

Home Again

Y/N Kane, the daugher of the vice-chancellor Marcus Kane, is send on the ground with the rest of the 100 after "stealing medicine". Will she be able to survive and overcome the diffrences between her and the people stuck on that dangerous planet like her or will she die? Find out in this canon rewrite of the 100 which follows the events of the fist season of the tv series.

MATERIAL LIST

•Pilot

•Earth Skills

•Earth Kills

•Murphy’s Law

•Twilight’s Last Gleaming

•His Sister’s Keeper

•Contents Under Pressure

•Day Trip

•Unity Day

•I Am Become Death

•The Calm

•We Are Grounders – Part I

•We Are Grounders – Part II

[justinewt]

The End of the World - THE 100 REWRITE Chapter Thirty-Five

[THE 100 MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (09/27/2024)

Summary: Everyone would share the bunker - 100 of each clan - and that rule applied to the Sky people as well. While Kane tried to ensure Octavia's condition was being respected, his daughter, Michelle, Clarke and Bellamy left the bunker to go get Raven before the death wave hit but with a 24-hour window and 10-hour long trips, there wouldn't be much room for error.

Words: 7k

Warnings: The 100 season 4 spoilers (episode 12 "The Chosen" & episode 13 "Praimfaya"), angst

It was chaos in the bunker. The Grounders had forced all the members of Skaikru into the rotunda. People were so crowded in the center that they were stepping on each other. They walked out of the office, Kane brought up the rear, and they faced the crowd. No one really knew what was going on and were quite confused and disoriented. People were repeatedly asking the chancellor, standing above them, what was happening. Announcing that 300 of them would be kicked out of the bunker and left to die in the upcoming death wave, which would arrive in just a little over a dozen hours. The situation was critical now. Grounders went to close the door to the dorms after having brought everyone in the room and loud shouting ensued. They pounded on the door and walls.

Jaha turned his head towards Bellamy, whispering, “Three out of four of these people are going to die tonight. You still think you made the right choice?”

Bellamy ignored him but gulped, staring ahead of him. He wasn’t even making eye contact with any of them lined up there. This wasn’t easy for any of them and hearing him trying to blame and guilt-trip Bellamy made Michelle clench her jaw, looking at Jaha from the corner of her eyes. They still had some time before having to read out the names on the list. They went back into the office and Abby sat at the radio to establish contact with Raven. She was yet to arrive to the bunker, still on that island they had gone off to the previous week. They wanted her to be part of the 100 to survive in the bunker, not just for them but because she’s a mechanic and one of the smartest engineers they had. They needed her for the thousand people in there with them. Eventually, Michelle, Bellamy and Clarke entered the room, along with Jaha, who received an umpteenth sidelong glance from Michelle the moment he spoke up, though quite quietly. She then glanced at her father, leaning against a shelf.

“Our people are scared, Marcus. We need to tell them something.”

“We just spoke with Raven. When she gets here, we’ll have all our essential personnel.”

“How many spots does that leave us with?” Clarke asked worriedly. Her mother stood up from her chair.

“Including the essential personnel, and the places that we’re holding for the children under 16, that leaves us with 80.”

“80.” She repeated gravely, glancing down. There was a heavy silence that befell the room before Jaha inevitably found something else to say. Michelle briefly closed her eyes, rolling them under her eyelids and crossed her arms over her chest. He wasn’t helping.

“I can’t believe about sending 364 of our own people to their deaths.”

“We’re lucky they’re giving us any space in this bunker at all.” Clarke looked at him, raising her eyebrows. Kane straightened up.

“Look. I don’t like it any more than you do.”

“Then let’s fight this.” Michelle couldn’t help it and sighed through her nose. She was glad her father went against him.

“No. Any sort of resistance will cost us all our lives. Our best course of action is to hold a lottery for the remaining spots.” Jaha approached, leaning on the desk. Michelle glanced at Clarke as the latter massaged her forehead, exhaling.

“It’s not going to work, Marcus.”

“It was your idea.”

His voice rose, “That was for the chance to survive.”

“And how is this any different?” Abby wondered.

“Until 20 minutes ago, our people believed they were safe. They let their guards down. They picked their bunks. They unpacked their bags. They imagined their futures. You try to rip that from them now, and, believe me, they will fight.”

“No one’s saying it’s gonna be easy, but we need to make the people listen to reason.” Kane said. The discussion was cut shot by Bellamy mentioning they still needed to go get Raven. He volunteered. Michelle nodded, glancing at him as she said she would go with him and so did Clarke, but Abby didn’t want to let her daughter go.

“Mom, look, Raven needs our help. I know the way to the island. I need to do this.”

As he took a few steps toward them, Kane agreed, “Well, be safe. There’ll be a place for the three of you when you get back. I’ll meet you in the airlock.” He put his hand on Bellamy shoulder as he sent them off. They left, heading for the airlock and once there, the trio took the hazmat suits from the walls and got ready as Abby came to join them.

“At these radiation levels, any amount of exposure is harmful. Keep the suits sealed at all times.” She explained, as she helped them with their suits. They had only 23 hours left until the death wave hit. “On a good day, it takes 10 hours to get to the island, and 10 hours to get back. That doesn’t leave you much room for error.”

“Mom, I know, okay? We’ll be careful.” Michelle glanced at them from the corner of her eyes as she finished zipping her suit and picking up their things with Bellamy. They spoke to each other in hushed tones and shared a tight hug. Abby then turned to the other two and crossed Michelle’s gaze. She gave her a sweet smile and went to give her a hug, whispering in her ear that Callie, her mother, would be proud of her. She knew, her father had told her already. Her eyes got slightly watery and she shut her eyes close, a tear falling down her cheek, which she wiped off once they broke the embrace.

“Take care of each other.” She looked at Bellamy.

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned his head to the airlock door when Murphy and Emori came in. “Murphy what are you doing here?”

“We heard you were going after Raven. We just wanna help.”

“I’ve been to that island dozens of times.” Emori added. “No one knows the water better than me.”

“Maybe it’ll help our chances if we bring home the chosen ones.”

“There’s a lottery. I’ll make sure your name is in it.”

“And Emory?” Abby looked at the grounder and parted her lips, quiet for a moment.

“I’ll do the best I can.” As she gave another hug and kiss to her daughter, Michelle heard the door open again; it was her dad. She instantly turned to him and locked her arms around him breathing against his shoulder. He softly rubbed her back, placing a kiss on her head and eventually, Abby and Kane left, giving their daughters a glance and a smile. They then put on their helmets, sealing their suits and walked out through the hatch. It creaked loudly as they closed it after them. Clarke showed them to way and Michelle followed suit but, looking over her shoulder, she saw Bellamy grabbing Murphy’s arm. She squinted her eyes, staring at them.

“What are you really up to, Murphy?”

He pulled his arm out of his grip, even glancing at Michelle behind them as he knew she was there, “You killed us when you opened that door, you know that? Oh, what did you think our people would do? Waste a spot on Emori? On me? We were safe, and you screwed us. You wanna know what we’re up to? It’s called surviving. There’s a bunker on that island. You’re our ride. That’s it.” Michelle shook her head, staying quiet. She couldn’t understand how she ever was in any kind of relationship with him.

“That bunker’s not stocked, Murphy. You won’t last 5 months, let alone 5 years.”

“No, we probably won’t. At least we’ll survive the death wave. We can’t all be essential personnel, or have a sister who’s queen of the grounders,” With a scoff, he then looked over his shoulder at Michelle. “or be the Chancellor’s daughter.” As he walked past her, he gave her a sidelong glance and she frowned, shaking her head. Bellamy approached, bringing his hand in her back and they walked away, cathing up with the others.

“Why did you come on this mission, Clarke?” Bellamy asked. The three of them sat at the front of the truck, with Murphy and Emory in the back.

“Raven’s my friend.”

“Yesterday, you were fine, leaving your friend out to die. My sister, too, Kane…” Listening, Michelle looked down, sighing through her nose quietly. If she hadn’t succeeded in convincing her to let them open the bunker’s door, her father would have been dead, and she couldn’t fathom losing him.

“I wasn’t fine with it, and you know that.” There were a few seconds of silence. “Bellamy… Michelle… I never meant to hurt you.”

“Aiming a gun at us is a strange way of showing it.”

“I didn’t pull the trigger.”

Michelle finally said something, “You did, actually. A warning shot is still a shot.”

“Whatever choice I make, somebody always dies.” She then said with a heavy tone, staring at the road. Bellamy shrugged, glancing at her with a smirk.

“Well, not shooting me- not shooting Michelle; that was the right choice.” They were exchanging glances and soft smiles when Clarke suddenly turned her head back to the road and shouted as someone walked in front of the truck. He couldn’t stop the vehicle nor dodge the stranger, so they crashed into them, crushing them under the wheels as he drove to the side, urgently, and crashed into a tree. The engine stopped, with smoke coming out. They were panting, looking around, confused and startled.

“He just jumped right out in front of us.” Clarke said, shocked. “It’s like he wanted to die.”

“You two, stay here. I’m gonna check the damage.” He opened the door and as he was about to get off, he was pulled out of the truck by a man who was shouting in trigedaslend. The two young women gasped, turning to the other door to get out but another grounder appeared on the other side, boxing them in until, like with Bellamy, they were dragged outside. Murphy shouted at the back, warning them others were coming, and the vehicle began to shake as they were slammed against it, beating them up, trying to take their suits off them. Arrows flew by their heads, shooting down their attackers. Someone seemingly came to their rescue on a horse, and that someone turned out to be the banished Azgedan spy, Echo. It was once she pulled down the mask hiding her face that they realized it was her but for the whole time she spent shooting arrows, throwing knives and slashing with her sword, they couldn’t tell who it was. The whole group was panting, looking at the newcomer.

“There might be more of them. We should get going.”

“Echo, what are you doing here?” Bellamy enquired.

“I know about your bunker on the island. I just saved your lives. I’m hoping you will return the favor.” She looked genuinely desperate. There was hopelessness in her eyes and the ever-growing level of radiation in the air was already affecting her breathing and face, on which there was a lot of redness, but maybe the fact that she was catching her breath was also because of the energy she had just spent on the fight. Bellamy was hesitant and looked around him, crossing the gazes of Clarke and Michelle beside him.

“Unless we can get another ride, no one’s making it to that island.” There was really no other choice but to let her come with them, and there wasn’t much time to talk this over anyways – they didn’t have much time to get there, and then return to Polis. As Abby said, not much room for error. But they still didn’t have another way to go there quickly since the truck was no longer an option after the accident and moving six people by foot would take twice as much time, if not more and they would never be able to make the return trip. As time passed, Bellamy kept on trying to establish contact with Murphy over the radio, but they didn’t get any response and Michelle was growing restless and anxious, going back and forth, staring into the void. She was quite frightened by what this delay would mean. She wouldn’t see her father for at least the next five years, during which the ground would be totally unsurvivable for anyone but maybe it wouldn’t be for much longer and not being sure about how long they would be separated made her feel like a cat on a hot tin roof. She glanced over her shoulder; Clarke was helping Echo put on their spare suit. Finally, after hours, Monty’s voice rose and Michelle swiftly turned on her heels, staring at Bellamy who urged to respond to their friend.

“Yes, Monty. I read you. Where are you?”

“Two clicks outside Polis. Almost there.” Michelle had almost forgotten that he had stayed back at Arkadia with Harper and the others but clearly, they had changed their minds and were making their way to Polis. This could be their ride to the island with the rover. “Everything okay?”

“Not exactly. Look, Monty. I hate to ask you this, but we broke down on the way to the island to get Raven. We need to come reel us in.

After a second, he said, “We’re on our way. Tell us exactly where you are.” Then, suddenly, Emori started coughing profusely. Blood was dripping from her mouth. Clarke rushed to take a look, and her conclusion was clear – she had been exposed to the radiations. 

“How’s that possible? She’s wearing a suit.” Murphy asked, angry and worried about his girlfriend. Emory slightly turned around, and Clarke looked up.

“The seal of her helmet is torn.”

“Can you fix it?” Emory asked, fear piercing through her voice. Murphy was about as scared and said they could use tape to fix it but as Clarke went on to remind him, they didn’t have any tools or weapons. The only thing they had brought was this spare suit, which they had just given to Echo.

“So we give her the extra suit then.”

“We don’t have another suit.” Bellamy argued, raising his voice.

Murphy snapped, shouting, “Yes, we do!” His eyes then went to Echo. “Take it off, now.”

“I saved your life.” She stared at him.

“What were you gonna do if we didn’t get attacked, huh? I mean, you guys seriously think she was following us out of the kindness of her own heart? No. She was gonna attack us the second that we stopped. Give me that suit.” He threateningly walked towards her and Bellamy stood in his way, trying to stop him. They were yelling at each other, arguing and pushing each other around.

“You cut that suit and it serves no one.”

“I’m not letting her die.”

“Neither am I.” Everyone turned to Clarke, not expecting to hear her voice but a second later, she was already taking off her helmet. Michelle took a step towards her, parting her lips.

“No, Clarke—”

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Bellamy got concerned as well.

“I have nightblood.”

“Untested nightblood.” He cut her off.

“We’re testing it now. Take off her helmet.” Emori was gasping and coughing, breathing with difficulty while Murphy quickly took it off to replace it with Clarke’s. Bellamy and Michelle shared worried glances as they watched.

Monty came back over the radio, “Bellamy, you there? Come in.”

“Yeah, we’re here. Head northeast from Polis, and Monty… drive fast.”

Looking down at her watch, Michelle saw they only had about 12 hours to get to the bunker. She took a deep breath, raising her head and glancing at Bellamy next to her. He had seen the time on his watch as well. But to her, it was over no matter what happened. She wouldn’t see her father again for years, if they did make it to the island, if they lasted long enough there and Bellamy had already told Murphy that there would barely be enough rations for a few months. Clarke came up to them.

“We have to talk about it.”

“Missed the window.” Michelle closed her eyes at Bellamy’s words, letting out a heavy sigh. “Continue to the island, we won’t make it back.”

“What about them? Do we just save ourselves?” She looked over her shoulder at Emory and Murphy sat on the ground.

“Clarke, if nightblood works, we need to get you to Polis, them, too. We pull in as many people as we can before the death wave hits. If your mom can make us all nightbloods, we only need to stay down there until it passes. We can still save everyone.”

“Just not Raven.” She added gravely. The Rover's headlights illuminated them, and they turned their heads towards the incoming vehicle. Monty parked it in front of them and got out.

“We got here as fast as we could.” He noticed Clarke’s helmet was missing and frowned worriedly. “Clarke, you’re exposed. Come on. Let’s get you into the rover.”

“No, Monty. I’m fine.”

“I’ll grab the extra helmet.” Harper added. She brought an entire suit because the helmet didn’t match the suit Clarke was already wearing. Murphy took care of Emory. Echo had been somewhat affected by the radiations she had been exposed to and Bellamy and Michelle helped her to walk to the back of the car. They stopped in their tracks, looking at Clarke as they heard her cough and spit black blood. Bellamy let go of Echo and Michelle passed her on to Harper who continued to the car without the two. Monty urged Clarke to take the suit, adding that it was supposed to be with Jasper. That’s when Michelle realized that the latter was indeed no where to be seen. He had let himself die with the others at Arkadia. He was Monty’s best friend. Michelle couldn’t imagine losing Clarke.

“You should put it on. Jasper would want you to.” He insisted. “If we’re still gonna make it to the island, we better—”

“We’re not going to the island.” Bellamy declared. Neither Clarke nor Michelle understood why he was saying this – of course they were going to the island.

“Nightblood doesn’t work.” She spoke.

“We don’t know that yet. Luna got sick before she got better, so—”

“Even if you’re right, they won’t let us all into the bunker if I’m still sick. It took days for Luna’s resistance to kick in, and by that time, the death wave will already be here, and all our friends will be dead. Are you okay with that?”

“You know I’m not… Clarke, unless I’m missing something, there is no other way for all of us to survive.”

“What if there is?”

“What do you mean?” Michelle asked, shaking her head in confusion. Her idea was to go up – to go back to space with the rocket she had seen at the bunker. Hours later, they arrived at the island at last and entered the bunker. They were standing by the railing as they took off their helmets as Raven looked up to them with a subtle frown. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re not leaving you behind.” Bellamy spoke, climbing down the stairs leading to the laboratory below, where Raven was. She didn’t understand what they were doing. There was not time for them to go back to Polis. And as Clarke had suggested earlier, they weren’t going back, they were going up.

“Space? But we don’t have enough fuel to get down.”

“Sounds like a 5-year problem to me.” Harper joked. Raven looked back to Clarke, realizing what she meant by going to speace.

“you’re talking about the ring?”

“Seems like a shame to let a good rocket go to waste.” Bellamy added.

“Uh, how do we live?”

“They left a water reclamator there, and we know that go-sci has an algae farm.” She explained, holding her helmet under her arm. “We just get those two things up and running, and we have food and water.”

Murphy spoke with a dragging voice, “Algae salads and recycled urine. Sign me up.”

“Better than dying.”

He turned his head towards Emory, “Yeah, you say that now.”

“All right, slow down.” Raven went back to speaking seriously. “Breathing’s important too. What’s the plan for oxygen?”

“Based on what Murphy says about the lighthouse bunker, I’m guessing— make that praying— there’s an oxygenator there. We take it with us. You hook it up. Bob’s your uncle.”

“You’re an engineer, Monty. You do know there’s about a thousand things wrogn with that plan, right?”

“Yes, and every one of them kills us.” He shrugged. “Of course, staying here will kill us too, so—”

“Raven, we need you to get us off the ground before the death wave hits. What do you say? Can you do it?”

She turned to Bellamy, her arms crossed over her chest, looking at each of them, unsure about her ability to pull this off, “What do I say?” Taking a few steps away, she looked at a map on a screen, showing the progression of the death wave and the location of Arkadia and Polis, as well as the lab they were in. Arkadia was already gone but they had a little less than 11 hours before it reached them. “I say that death wave can kiss my ass.”

“Good.” Clarke nodded. “It’s settled then. We’re going back to the Ark.”

Michelle had her arms crossed, going back and forth the lab, kind of dragging her feet around. Looking over her shoulder, she watched Bellamy in the glass-walled room upstairs, sitting on a couch and talking through the radio. He was talking to Octavia. She was waiting for their conversation to be over so she could have a word with her father before not hearing from him or seeing him at all for the next few years. She was nervously tapping on her arm with her index finger, turning her head back around, sighing through her nose. She had to hope they would survive five years in space, return to earth and she would be reunited with her dad and all would be well. She had to be somewhat delusional that nothing bad would fuck up their plans because if there was no hope to see him again, she would lose it. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing both her parents after spending barely half a year with him as her actual dad after spending her entire life not knowing. She threw her head back, closing her eyes and exhaled as she then stared at the ceiling before approaching the screen to see the progression of the death wave.

She eventually walked up the stairs and softly opened the door. They locked eyes and she barely took one step in the room before stopping in her tracks, gulping. One glance at the radio and the microphone in his hand, added to his silence, let her understand that the communications had been cut by the radiations of the upcoming death wave. She turned to the side, clenching and unclenching her fist repeatedly and slightly flaring her nostrils as she breathed in and out. She felt her lip quiver and her eyes filling with tears. Bellamy’s hand grabbed her shoulder, and he turned her towards him, drawing her into a hug. She gulped air, squinting her eyes, her sight got blurrier from the tears, and they fell down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t say goodbye to your dad. We’ll meet them again.” He spoke quietly, trying to keep himself from getting emotional but she heard that he wanted to cry too and maybe it was because of her that he contained himself. She broke down and weeped, stifling a sob, gripping onto his suit, feeling his arms tighten around her. His chest heavied against her as he pressed his cheek against her face, his breath blowing in her hair. She tried to catch her breath in order to stop crying and she felt his head move away from hers and she looked over her shoulder. Clarke was staring at them worriedly. She slightly turned; the hug got looser but they didn’t entirely let go of each other right away. “The radio’s dead… won’t get to say goodbye to your mom. I’m sorry.”

Seeing her break down in tears got Michelle crying some more as she and Bellamy walked towards her to hug her. They broke the embrace when Murphy’s voice rose from the laboratory, telling them to come down. They were all gathered in front of the screen she was looking at earlier and they watched as the death wave hit Polis before their eyes. Michelle tried to steady her breathing, in order not to cry in front of the group but a few tears ran down her cheeks. Bellamy put his arm around her shoulders, squeezing it softly in his hand. There was shock on all their faces, but Michelle’s twisted with sadness, and she closed her eyes. It was too much to see, knowing her father was right under that tower. She knew he was safe in the bunker and yet her imagination couldn’t help but make her believe he was going to die.

“It’s 210 miles from Polis to the island.” Raven said. “According to what was our last drone, the wave is accelerating. If we’re not off the ground at least 20 minutes before it hits, the electromagnetic charge in the pyroclastic cloud will shut down the rocket’s avionics, meaning it won’t fly. That gives us 90 minutes to run a 6-hour preflight check, retrieve the oxygen generator from the lighthouse, turn a cockpit designed for two into one that can carry 9, and load the cargo hold with enough food to keep us from starving in space while we wait for the algae to bloom.”

“I thought you said it was gonna be hard.” Murphy commented.

“That’s not the hard part. Becca designed her rocket to dock with Polaris, not the ark. That means I have to pilot it into the hangar bay on the ring.”

“What’s so hard about that?” Harper wondered.

“That’s not the hard pat, either.”

“What is the hard part, Raven?” Clarke urgently asked.

“Assuming we blast off in time, CO2 scrubbers on a two-person rocket won’t support 9 of us.”

“So we use supplemental oxygen.”

“Our tanks only hold an hour of air.” Monty said, looking at Clarke. She and Bellamy turned their heads towards him simultaneously.

“Correct. We’ll have one hour to get into orbit, land in the hangar bay, and fire up the life-support system using an oxygen generator built to supply a lighthouse bachelor pad.”

“You suck at talking people into things. You know that right?” Murphy grumbled.

“Anyone still need to be talked into this?” Bellamy made eye contact with each of them, and they all shook their heads to confirm that no one needed to be talked into this anymore. They were all in on it. “Good. Now we know the many ways we might die today, why don’t you tell us what we have to do to live?”

Raven acquiesced, turning to the computers at the center of the room and began tapping on the keyboards before her, launching the final countdown; the last 90 minutes they had before being stuck in the bunker and dying of starvation within a few months. The seconds passed on the screen while they stared anxiously. They had to get to it now. The final stretch. Murphy and Monty went to walk through the woods to get to the lighthouse while the rest of them worked around the laboratory; Echo helped Emory at the rocket, bringing her stuff she needed, and Clarke, Michelle and bellamy worked on how to survive until they could use the algae farm to sustain themselves on the Ark. Michelle stood by Bellamy near the staircase, his hand on the railing, tapping on it with his thumb. They were looking at the two grounders at the rocket.

“Grounders in space, it’s an oxymoron.” He spoke as Clarke approached.

“Survival’s a team sport, especially up there. It was the only choice. Only choice, also an oxymoron, by the way.”

“So is cold sweat.” He sketched a tight smile with a worried frown. “Still holding out hope for that nightblood solution.”

“There was never any solution.” She shot up her eyebrows. “Alie was right about that.

“Our fight is not over.”

“My mom had a vision of me dying, just like the one Raven had that told her there was a rocket there.”

“You’re not going to die, Clarke. It is not the same thing.” Michelle shook her head.

“Yeah, they were both EMP’d.”

“And Abby will be fine, too.” He spoke. “Raven told her how to stop it.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. If anything happens to me—”

Bellamy grabbed her by her shoulders, widening his eyes, “Nothing is happening to you.” He walked to the computer, urging them to run the water numbers again but she insisted that he hear what she had to tell him too. Michelle was already listening, but he was reluctant to hear it and understandably so. None of them wanted to face the possibility of Clarke’s death. She was their best friend. Clarke plunged her eyes into theirs.

“We’ve been through a lot together, you and I. I didn’t like you at first— that’s no secret.”

“I didn’t either.” Michelle chuckled faintly. Looking back, it was crazy how far they had come since their first encounter at the dropship’s landing. Clarke laughed quietly too.

“But even then, every stupid thing you did, it was to protect your sister.” He gave a subtle nod, looking away. “She didn’t always see that, But I did. You’ve got such a big heart, Bellamy.”

“Clarke—”

“People will follow you. You inspire them because of it, but the only way to make sure we survive is you use this too.” She lifted her finger to his head, poking his temple.

He shook his head, “We got you for that.”

Her lips quivered faintly, “Raven’s premonition came true.” Their conversation was interrupted when a loud electric zapping sound caught their attention and Raven yelled. They came running towards the rocket to check if everyone was okay. Bellamy climbed the ladder to the cockpit, peeked inside.

“Raven, what is it?” He enquired.

“Oh, there isn’t enough time.’ She groaned. “We’re pushing too hard.”

“What’s happening?”

“Computer, systems check.” Once he stepped inside, Clarke and Michelle squeezed together on the ladder and climbed. The rocket’s computer’s voice spoke, listing the various systems and their state. Two out of three were optimal, aside from the life-support system. “It’s okay. We’re using completemental anyway.”

“All life-support systems are offline.” The voice declared.

“Just wait. Two more.” She shook her head, frowning in concern. The life-support systems weren’t the only one to be completely offline, the communication systems were as well. “Recommend repair options for communication system.”

“Who cares? There’s no one to talk to anyway.” Harper didn’t understand. Raven straight up told her to be quiet, waiting for the repair options, but all damages were beyond repair. They would need to replace the entire communication system for it to be able to work.

“Talk to us, Raven.” Bellamy urged.

She slowly looked over her shoulder and then stared into space, “We’re not going anywhere. Computer, terminate launch sequence.” She got up and Clarke and Michelle stepped aside to let her through as she sighed heavily and walked away. They all came after her, wanting her to explain herself.

“It’s simple. There’s no power in the ring. Two minutes ago, I though it wasn’t a problem because I could activate it remotely.”

“Over the rocket’s com system.” Clarke figured.

“So, we turn the power on from the inside.” Bellamy spoke.

“We can’t get inside. That’s the point. Without power, we can’t even open the hangar door.” She was beyond frustrated, but Clarke encouraged her to think harder, she had solved way bigger problems than this before. It would be quite difficult to do so in the 53 minutes they had left.  

“It’s over, Clarke.” She shouted. “You know, maybe if I still had Alie’s code eating away my brain, I could figure it out. I’m not smart enough myself.” She let herself fall on the stairs to the rocket, hopeless. Clarke didn’t what else to do. She turned to the others, standing around and Bellamy approached, trying to talk to Raven, sitting beside her. She wouldn’t believe him when he insisted, she could do this.

“How many times have you saved our asses before you ever heard of Alie?” He asked.

“Oh, too many to count.”

“You’re damn right. We don’t need Alie on the ark. We need you.” Tear fell down her face and she wiped them and frowned. “What?”

“Alie was on the Ark.” She jerked to her feet. “I— I was right there, so close to the kill switch, but she got away by transmitting herself to the ring.”

“Using the pod in the temple.” Emory spoke.

“Yes. If she can do it, so can we.”

“Raven, we’ll never make it back to Polis on time, and the radios are dead.”

She took a few steps toward Clarke, “We have something better than radios— the satellite tower.” Turning back to Echo, Emory and Harper, she told them to get back in the cockpit and to finish to prepare the restraints for them during the flight, and then motioned to Clarke, Michelle and Bellamy, urging them to go put their helmets on and come with her. They geared up and went out. They could see the tower stretch out in the sky and according to Raven, it was less than a mile away. She repeated the instructions; all they had to do was plug a device into the junction box, at the base of the tower. Simple enough said like that. Once the tablet would be connected, it would align itself with the ark. She gave the rest of the directions. “Are there any questions?”

“Yeah. Why are you smiling?” Clarke wondered.

“Because without comms, even with the power on, we still can’t open that hangar bay door from inside the rocket.”

“Wait, how is that a good thing?”

“She gets to take her space walk.” Michelle was staring at Raven as she figured what Bellamy had been failing to understand, bringing the two others’ gazes on her. In the distance, behind Raven, they saw Murphy carrying the generator they needed, and they rushed towards him. He was panting loudly and struggling with how heavy that things was, eventually falling over. But something concerning that they noticed, was that Monty wasn’t there with him. Murphy was about to help himself up but took Michelle’s hand as she stretched it out to him. He told them that Monty was in trouble and had passed out in the forest. His hands had been touched by the radiations.

“If we go back now, we can get to him.” He pointed at the trees behind him. “You can be impressed with me later, we gotta go.”

“Alignign the dish is a one-person job. Clarke can handle it.” Raven said. “Michelle will help me with the generator.”

“Bellamy—”

“Clarke, if it’s one of those moments where you tell me to use my head—”

“No. I was just gonna say, hurry.”

“You, too. Lead the way.” He ran to the forest, following Murphy while Clarke went to the tower and Raven and Michelle carried the machine back to the laboratory to set it in the rocket. Eventually, Bellamy and Murphy came in, carrying Monty and sat him down to the side. Emory was relieved to see Murphy safe and sound and wrapped her arms around him. Harper rushed to Monty, wanting to look at his hands but there was no time. They would take care of it once on the Ark. They had just 5 minutes left ahead of them. “Clarke’s not back yet.”

“By now she should be on her way.” They had to finish getting ready for launch. Raven led them to the rocket, telling them all to refill their oxygen tanks and load up for the flight. She would tell them when to turn them on, so as not to waste any air, given they would have only an hour each.

“Where’s Echo?” Bellamy wondered. Only then did Michelle realize the grounder wasn’t with them. He left to find her while they all got strapped in. When Echo joined them, they only had 2 minutes left. Clarke was still not here. They waited until the countdown ran out, but Bellamy was still waiting outside the rocket, staring at the stairs, hoping she would appear any second now, but they had to go. The radiations outside were already affecting the ship’s avionics, so if they wanted to successfully reach space, it was now or never. He got in and reluctantly closed the cockpit door.

“Can we give her another minute?” Emory asked.

“We’re out of time.” Bellamy sat down next to Michelle and strapped himself in. Michelle looked down, hoping her best friend would somehow survive out there. “This is what Clarke would want us to do. If we wait, then we die.”

“Wait. How are we gonna know she got the power on, then?” Murphy wondered.

“We’ll know when we get there.” Raven closed her helmet, ordering the opening of the launching door. She initiated the countdown until lauch, anxiously listening to the numbers being spoken by the robotic voice. Michelle and Bellamy held each other’s hand, looking out the porthole. It broke their hearts to have to leave Clarke behind, but there was no other choice. The rocket fired up and flew out of the bunker. The ship shook a lot during the flight until they reached space.

“Welcome to zero G, boys and girls.” Raven smiled. She took control of the navigation, setting the rings’ coordinates and a few seconds later, they saw it on the screen, still quite a bit far away from them but they were getting there. The ring was dark, meaning Clarke must have had some problems with connecting the tablet to the tower and set the power on. But Bellamy and Michelle, though not entirely confident, knew she would have it done. She had to.

“Ready for a spacewalk, Raven?” He asked.

“You know I am, but if Clarke doesn’t get the power on—” One glance from him and she cut herself off. “Suiting up.” She detached herself from her seat and flew through the hatch in the floor and went outside. Michelle watched him as Bellamy got off his seat to float up to the porthole and take a look out. She observed his face, practically holding her breath until joining him to the window.

“I left her behind.” He mumbled, tilting his head forward in guilt. Michelle put her hand on his arm.

“She would’ve wanted us to do this. You said it yourself, and you know it’s true.”

“No, I left her behind, and we all die, anyway.”

“Guys, look.” They glanced at Monty before looking out the window again. The ark was lit up. She had done it. She managed to set the power on. Raven managed to open the hangar door. She pulled herself back to the rocket and drove it inside the hangar before closing the door, allowing everyone out. Home sweet home, as said Murphy as they entered. Raven was the first to be running out of air and Emory shared hers. The next to hear a beeping sound was Michelle. The oxygen level on the watch connected to her suit and oxygen tank showed she had almost nothing left.

“Bellamy, hurry up. Michelle’s running out of air.” Upon hearing Monty, Bellamy widened his eyes in worry and looked at her. Echo pushed him aside to open the vent quicker. She tore it off the wall. Michelle couldn’t breathe and let herself fall against the wall. Monty kneeled beside her, urging Bellamy to get the tubes and connect the generator. She was gasping for air. Monty couldn’t grab things because of his hand so Echo took off her helmet and gave her air from another tank. She inhaled deeply and shared it with Echo, taking one breath after the other. But they quickly ran out and were all on the verge of passing out. Michelle head rolled to the side and fell on Echo’s shoulder before her eyes closed. She came back to her senses, opening her eyes wide, panting and gasping and she looked around and stumbled towards Bellamy, collapsed on the ground. She groaned, pulling his helmet off of him so he wouldn’t suffocate in his suit. He looked up, breathing quickly, and held Michelle’s hand. They would be fine now.

After taking off his suit, Bellamy found an empty bottle by a window, looking down on the earth, now just a scorching ball of fire. Michelle walked up to him, touching his hand with the back of hers as they were joined by Raven.

“She saved us again.” She spoke under her breath. “Think we can do this without her?”

“If we don’t, she died in vain. And I’m not gonna let that happen.” Bellamy couldn’t take his eyes off the planet before them. It was unrecognizable. No blue or green left to see. “You with me?”

The two young women glanced at each other, and turned their head to him, “Always.” Michelle nodded, and though she said nothing else, she didn’t think any less. She would never give up on Bellamy and he knew it. She felt him grab her hand and she brought her other hand to his arm as they intertwined their fingers. It was the end of the world they had grown accustomed too, but, hopefully, not the end of the entire world.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (09/27/2024)

Published (08/30/2024) by Andrea

Taglist:  @mirellef2001

[dakotaawolven]

Taim kom hod in au te kos(when love becomes the reason)

When Raven said they needed more time, this isn't what any of them quite had in mind, but they're going to make the best of it. Sent back to a year before they ever went to the ground, bonds are tested, strengthened, broken and reforged. New discoveries are made, old ways are replaced with new, and together, they will find the way to a new, peaceful life where survival is no longer a concern, but where they can finally get to living.