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sansaorgana · 5 months

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Hey! I absolutely love your work and was wondering if you would be open to doing a John egan x reader but reader is really close with gales girl Marge and kinda takes care of her while the war is happening and neither of the guys know till they come back and release that Mabye reader moved across the street from Marge and how much she’s been helping Marge, I think it would be interesting to see a domestic and fluff relationship between the two girls and + the men being involved

hello, honey! 💘 thank you so much for your request 😘 it was a very interesting scenario, I love the idea of women helping each other in difficult times 💪🏻💪🏾 not gonna lie, though, I was so jealous of Marge while writing it 🤣 I'm a hopeless case when it comes to Buck, I swear 🙄

Nothing was easy when the boys were away. Handling everything on your own and worrying about your husband at the same time was driving you crazy. You could only imagine how the women left alone with their children had to feel like. You weren’t sure if you’d handle that.

Some women handled the new reality better, some had a more difficult time to adjust. Marge was one of them and as Bucky’s wife you felt responsible for her just like you knew that your husband felt responsible for her boyfriend. They were closest friends and you were aware that if it was Bucky who had stayed in The US, he would take care of Marge because she was important for Gale. But it wasn’t him here, it was you.

You had only met her a few times before John went to Europe but she was sweet and she had wanted you to remain friends like your men were. You would call each other every week and talk on the telephone, trying to cheer yourselves up. But when both of your men had found themselves in the POW camp, you noticed that Marge was getting worse.

You packed your bags and decided to move in with her for some time. She was living alone and spending her whole days worrying. You couldn’t let that happen.

“They are together there, darling,” you squeezed her hands in yours when you were sitting together on her couch. “Think about that, it’s quite lucky that they’re together even there,” you didn’t know how else to cheer her up.

“But God only knows how long they will be there…” She sniffled her tears back. “What if we never see them again? How do they treat them?”

“We can try to write them letters, how about that? I know that the Red Cross helps with delivering them. Maybe they will get ours,” you proposed and she nodded, hesitantly.

“You know, Gale asked me to marry him in his last letter before he went down,” she confessed and you gasped before hugging her tight.

“Oh, congratulations! Then you absolutely have to write to him! You can’t leave him waiting!” You encouraged her and she broke a smile.

“Of course I’m going to say yes.”

“Of course,” you winked at her. “You know, some part of me is less worried now when I know John’s in the camp. At least he doesn’t fly anymore,” you told her. “I only hope he behaves well there because you know what he’s like. If he acts up too much, they can hurt him.”

“I’m sure that my Gale is watching over him and doesn’t let him act stupid,” Marge squeezed your hand and you nodded. She was right. The boys were looking out for each other. Just like you and Marge.

A few weeks later you already decided to stay in the same town where Marge lived. There was a house down the road for sale and you decided to move in there. You knew that John wouldn’t get mad about it and he’d like to live closer to his friend, too. You were sure he’d follow Buck wherever he’d go so you just didn’t listen to your family telling you it was an impulsive decision. It was not. Marge needed you and you needed her.

In the meantime, Buck had his birthday in late December. Marge was very sad about it so you came up with an idea of baking him a cake and decorating it with candles. You invited a few close friends and took pictures of his birthday party to show him when he’s back. She wrote to him about it in a letter that she hoped the Red Cross would manage to deliver. You did the same thing in September 1944 when it was your husband’s birthday and then again in another December for Buck again. This time it was more sad, though, when you both realised that it was his second birthday in the POW camp already. You were slowly starting to lose hope to ever see your husband again, too. But you tried not to show it and be strong. For Marge.

In the letter you wrote to your husband, you mentioned that you moved closer to Marge and that you were looking after her. But you didn’t tell him everything because there were things that men would not understand. And there were things men should not know. You didn’t want them to worry even more but there were nights where both of you would just hug each other and cry. You tried to remain strong for her, to be the responsible one. But it was so difficult. You would let a few silent tears flow, trying to cheer her up although the words you were saying were not believable even to you.

“Germany is losing this war, Marge, we’re gonna see our boys again, soon,” you rubbed her back on those nights as you were sitting by the fireplace.

“What if they get rid of their prisoners? They’re not good people, they don’t respect the laws,” she sobbed.

And what could you answer? You felt the same, you were worried about the exact same thing on all the sleepless nights, clutching on the sheets and praying to all the gods above you to keep your men safe.

“It just won’t happen,” you told her as if you were a god yourself and you knew. But you didn’t, you couldn’t know. She chose to trust you because she desperately needed to be assured.

Sometimes you wished it had been you being held by her. Sometimes you felt weak, too. But you chose to look after her and you would not back out.

In the summer of 1945 they finally came back and you threw a small party at Marge’s house to greet the boys home. Everything had been arranged by just the two of you – flowers, decorations and food. You had lots of fun preparing it together, excitedly awaiting to see your men again.

Of course you feared they would be different now. They had spent so much time in that camp, there was no way they’d come back the same. But you promised each other to always be there for the other one; to help and support when needed. You were like family now.

At the first sight they seemed the same – except for the eyes, they were sadder now. But your John was still playful as he spun you around and rubbed his nose with yours. He made a few teasing comments and inappropriate jokes that would make Gale roll his eyes and sigh. Gale seemed to be the same as well – kind and charming as always, with only a few new scars on his cheeks that Marge kissed all over.

But you knew it was just an act. You knew because the way you behaved oh-so-normal around them was an act, too. You were smiling and joking around with your husband like in the old days, but in fact you just wanted to curl up in his arms and cry out all the ugly tears you had been holding inside for the past two years.

When all the guests left, you helped Marge in the kitchen to wash the dishes before you and John would go home, too. You were talking with each other softly about some silly things when Gale and John entered the kitchen and leaned on the wall as they watched you.

“What is it, boys?” You asked them with a soft smile.

“Just admiring our wives, can’t we?” John winked at you and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a wife yet,” Marge teased.

“Soon you will be!” You reminded her excitedly and she giggled.

“I’ll go to the garden to see if there aren’t any dishes there,” she told you and you nodded. Marge went outside and you went back to drying the plates with a cloth.

“Thank you,” you heard Gale’s voice behind you as you flinched.

“Gee, you scared me. For what, Buck?” You asked.

“You were taking care of her,” he looked into your eyes deeply and for the first time this evening you could see all the hurt and pain on his face that he had been trying to hide.

“It’s nothing, don’t even mention that,” you told him as your voice broke. “You were looking after my Bucky.”

“And he was looking after me. Every day,” Gale nodded and walked away from you as Marge entered the kitchen again with a few plates and glasses.

You glanced at your husband who went oddly silent. He only watched you with sad eyes and you realised there were things about that war they would not tell you nor Marge in a long time. Perhaps never.

You finished the dishes and said goodbye to Marge and Gale. They were not married yet so he was supposed to rent a place nearby for a few weeks until the wedding but on that night he wanted to stay with her and you couldn’t blame him. You waved at them for the one last time and took John’s hand to go back to your house.

You opened the door and turned the light on with a relaxed sigh.

“I hope you like it, John. I had to manage everything on my own,” you told him.

He had been in the house early in the morning after his arrival but soon after you had left for the party at Marge’s house.

“Yeah, I can see that. Some things need to be fixed,” he pointed out and you shook your head at him as he grinned widely and pulled you closer for a hug. “I will repair them, don’t you worry, sugar.”

“Good. But overall you like it, yes?” You bit on your lower lip.

“Of course I do. It’s beautiful. But I’d live with you in a tent by the river, you know that? Everything would be beautiful with you in it,” he leaned in to place a soft kiss upon your lips and you threw your hands around his neck. “You’ve been a brave girl. I know what you did for Marge,” he whispered.

“I’ve already told Buck that it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing,” John insisted. “I know how much it had to cost you. Taking care of her when you needed to be taken care of, too. I know,” he caressed your cheek gently. “I’ve been taking care of him. Yeah, he was the one to keep me out of trouble but I’ve made sacrifices for him that only I know about,” he confessed.

For a moment, you felt jealous of Buck Cleven.

“I guess we are just good friends,” you tried to make a lighthearted comment about it. “They’re very lucky to have us.”

“Mhm, incredibly lucky,” John chuckled and leaned in once again to rub your nose with his. “I missed you terribly. Every day and every night. I’m not as good with words as Buck is, I’ve never been the romantic type but I hope you know that I mean it. I love you,” he whispered and you cupped his face with a smile.

“Bucky, baby, I didn’t fall for you because you were a romantic or good with words anyway. I fell for you because you were my goof. My class clown,” you assured him. “And I missed you, I missed you, I missed you… Terribly. Awfully. Dreadfully,” you kept saying these words and laughing through the tears of joy as he laughed, too.

“Okay, enough, I get the picture,” he pecked your lips. “Your goof is back now,” he assured you and you caressed his hair with your fingertips.

“I’m glad,” you nodded. “But if my goof needs to be sad sometimes or wants me to hug him and tell him it’s going to be alright, I don’t want him to keep it a secret, alright? I’m here for you, baby, for better and for worse,” you promised.

Bucky pulled you even closer for a very tight hug as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, his moustache tickling your soft skin. You put your arms around him and squeezed him in a loving way.

“I’m grateful, sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear as he placed a small kiss on your cheek, “but now it’s time for you to be taken care of.”

MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*bucky #lilysfiction #callum turner x reader #john egan x reader

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chosetherose · 2 years

Text

Updated as of 6/30

The Eras Tour *Surprise Songs*

Taylor said her goal is to not repeat each show’s surprise songs so I thought it would be fun to track them as the tour goes on! Black strikethrough is included in the main set list. Purple strikethrough are included in the main set list but have been switched up at some show/s. Blue songs Taylor played but might be repeated due to messing up.

Taylor Swift

Tim McGraw (3/17) • Picture to Burn • Teardrops on My Guitar (5/5) • A Place in This World (4/22) • Cold as You (4/23) • The Outside • Tied Together with a Smile • Stay Beautiful• Should’ve Said No (5/19) • Mary’s Song (Oh My My My) • Our Song (3/24) • I’m Only Me When I’m with You (6/30) • Invisible (5/20) • A Perfectly Good Heart

Fearless

Fearless • Fifteen (5/6) • Love Story • Hey Stephen (5/14) • White Horse (3/25) • You Belong With Me • Breathe• Tell Me Why• You’re Not Sorry (4/21) • The Way I Loved You • Forever & Always (5/13) • The Best Day (5/14) • Change • Jump Then Fall (4/2) • Untouchable • Come In With The Rain • Superstar • The Other Side Of The Door (4/28) • You All Over Me (6/3) • Mr. Perfectly Fine (6/16) • We Were Happy • That’s When • Don’t You • Bye Bye Baby • Today was a fairytale (4/22)

Speak Now

Mine (5/7) • Sparks Fly (5/5) • Back To December • Speak Now (4/13, Taylor restarted part of the song but did not confirm it could be played again) • Dear John (6/24) • Mean (4/15) • The Story Of Us (6/17) • Never Grow Up • Enchanted • Better Than Revenge • Innocent• Haunted (6/9) • Last Kiss • Long Live • Ours (3/31) • If This Was A Movie (6/23) • Superman

Red

State Of Grace (3/18) • Red (5/21) • Treacherous (4/13) • I Knew You Were Trouble • All Too Well • 22 • I Almost Do (6/9) • We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together • Stay Stay Stay • The Last Time (6/16) • Holy Ground (5/27) • Sad Beautiful Tragic (3/31) • The Lucky One (4/2) • Everything Has Changed • Starlight • Begin Again (4/23) • The Moment I Knew (6/4) • Come Back… Be Here (5/12) • Girl At Home • Ronan • Better Man (5/19) • Nothing New • Babe • Message In A Bottle • I Bet You Think About Me (4/30) • Forever Winter • Run • The Very First Night • All Too Well – 10 Minute Version

1989

Welcome To New York (5/28) • Blank Space • Style • Out Of The Woods (5/6, Taylor confirmed it might be played again) • All You Had To Do Was Stay • Shake It Off • I Wish You Would (6/2) • Bad Blood • Wildest Dreams • How You Get The Girl (4/30) • This Love (5/13) • I Know Places • Clean (4/1, Taylor confirmed it might be played again, 5/28) • Wonderland (4/21) • You Are In Love • New Romantics

Reputation

…Ready For It? • End Game • I Did Something Bad • Don’t Blame Me • Delicate • Look What You Made Me Do • So It Goes… • Gorgeous (4/29) • Getaway Car (5/26) • King Of My Heart • Dancing With Our Hands Tied • Dress • This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things • Call It What You Want • New Year’s Day

Lover

I Forgot That You Existed • Cruel Summer • Lover • The Man • The Archer • I Think He Knows (5/21) • Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince • Paper Rings (6/23) • Cornelia Street • Death By A Thousand Cuts (4/1, Taylor confirmed it might be played again) • London Boy • Soon You’ll Get Better • False God (5/27) • You Need To Calm Down • Afterglow • Me! • It’s Nice To Have A Friend • Daylight (6/24) • All of the Girls You’ve Loved Before

Folklore

The 1 (replaced IS multiple shows) • Cardigan • The Last Great American Dynasty • Exile with Bon Iver • My Tears Ricochet • Mirrorball (3/17) • Seven (spoken, 6/17) • August • This Is Me Trying (3/18) • Illicit Affairs • Invisible String (replaced by T1 multiple shows) • Mad Woman (4/15) • Epiphany • Betty • Peace • Hoax • The Lakes (6/2)

Evermore

Willow • Champagne Problems • Gold Rush (5/12) • Tis The Damn Season • Tolerate It • No Body, No Crime • Happiness • Dorothea • Coney Island (4/28) • Ivy • Cowboy Like Me (3/25) • Long Story Short • Marjorie • Closure • Evermore (6/30) • Right Where You Left Me •It’s Time To Go

Midnights

On 4/14 Taylor changed the rule: ALL SONGS ON MIDNIGHTS MAY BE REPEATED. I’m adding the dates to the midnights surprise songs but they will remain in black text since they can be repeated.

Lavender Haze • Maroon (5/26) • Anti-Hero • Snow on the Beach (3/24) • You’re on Your Own, Kid (4/14) • Midnight Rain • Question…? (5/20) • Vigilante Shit • Bejeweled • Labyrinth • Karma • Sweet Nothing • Mastermind • The Great War (4/14) • Bigger Than the Whole Sky • Paris • High Infidelity (4/29) • Glitch • Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve (5/7) • Dear Reader • Hits Different (6/4)

Other

I don’t wanna live forever (6/3)

#reach out if I’m missing anything #eras tour #eras tour set list #surprise song #Taylor swift #taylor nation

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major-mads · 8 months

Text

Chapter 1: Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: Ruth has been living in my head for months now, and I'm so so so excited to share her with y'all! This series is Jess (footprintsinthesxnd) and I's brainchild. Our ideas just seamlessly fit tegether, and here we are! We actually wrote this first chapter a week before the 26th, so if anything happens to almost exactly match the show, we came up with it before we saw it on there! (we're just good like that 😎)

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 5.3k

The hum of the engine was the only sound in the C-47 as it soared over the English countryside. The patients had finally settled, and the morphine finally took effect and brought them some sense of relief. Hope slumped back into her seat with a sigh, smiling over at Ruth who looked as exhausted as she was.

“You looked tired,” Hope smiled at her friend who just sighed.

“It’s been a long day. I can’t wait to get back to base,” Ruth pushed her short blonde hair out of her eyes, sighing again.

“Hey Frank, how much longer have we got,” Hope called to one of the pilots.

“We’ve had to make a detour, doll. We’re heading to Thorpe Abbotts airfield and will evacuate the wounded to Thorpe St. Andrews Hospital. It’s not far now.”

Hope felt her heart flutter, her throat drying as she slouched back against her seat.

“Hey Hope, what’s wrong?” Ruth leaned forward, gripping Hope’s hand and squeezing it, her large blue eyes filled with worry.

“It’s Hugh,” Hope muttered, her eyes a little teary but a smile on her lips nonetheless. “My brother is stationed at Thorpe Abbotts with the 100th Bomb Group. I haven’t seen him in so long.”

Ruth’s concerned frown turned to a smile, “So I’m finally going to meet this Hugh I’ve heard so much about.”

Hope laughed, patting her friend on the back gently, “You will, but don’t get any ideas.”

The aircraft soared towards its destination, and the occasional jolting and shaking on the metal bird brought no fear to the flight nurses anymore. Once, the ratting metal coffin struck the fear of God into them but now this was a peaceful ride.

Hope watched out the window as the lush, green countryside grew closer and closer.

“Hey, Frank! Stop hugging the hedgerows for crying out loud. Don’t let the girl down before we’ve reached the field,” Hope called, grimacing as the trees seemed to grow ever closer.

“Who’s flying this bird, Armstrong? You or me?” Frank retorted, not looking away from the cockpit.

“Well, maybe you could use some lessons in keeping the old girl airborne then. We’ll beat up the airfield at this rate.”

Ruth laughed, watching Hope argue with the pilot once more, “You know Hope, maybe you should have gotten your wings. Then you could be flying us instead of Frank.”

“You’ve got a good point there, Ruth. Ya hear that Frank, Ruth wants me flying instead of you.”

Frank’s reply was a muffled curse, and both girls found themselves giggling in response. The plane tooled along for a while longer until it finally began to descend, rattling as it lost altitude and shaking its victims vigorously. The wheels touching down on the tarmac filled everyone with great relief.

“Well that was one ropey landing, Frank. Maybe I could give ya a few lessons?” Hope asked politely, batting her eyelashes at the pilot who just huffed.

“Shove off, Hope. Now get to it, your blood wagons are waiting.”

Hope cringed at the nickname the ambulances had been given, they were lifesaving vehicles transporting sick men, why make it sound so ominous?

Hope hopped down from the plane, instructing the stretcher-bearers on which soldiers were in the worst condition. Between them, Hope and Ruth helped carry three wounded men to the ambulances when an obnoxiously loud voice called, “Well, I’ll be damned!”

Hope spun round, her boots scuffing at the earth.

“HUGH!” Her brother laughed jovially, jogging over to them.

“Gosh, I’ve missed you, Little Bird,” Hugh threw his arms around Hope’s shoulders, nestling his head into her neck as he always did. Hope couldn’t comprehend what was happening. She was finally in her brother's arms, finally reunited with him after so long. She gripped tightly onto the back of his uniform, burying her face in his chest. He smelt of smoke and engine oil just like he did back home.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured, just loud enough for Hugh to hear as he tightened his grip on her further. She could feel Ruth hovering awkwardly behind her and she turned to greet her friend, pulling out of her brother's arms.

“Ruth, this is my brother, Hugh. Hugh, this is my friend, Ruth.”

Ruth smiled sweetly, sticking out her hand to shake Hugh’s but instead, he pulled her into a bear hug.

“Any friend of Hope’s is a friend of mine,” he assured Ruth and she smiled, her cheeks turning a deep red at the embarrassment of the situation.

“Hugh, put her down. Look, you're making the poor girl blush,” Hope laughed, which only caused Ruth to blush harder.

“My apologies Ruthie, where are my manners,” he bowed, taking her hand and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Oh, uh- nice to meet you.” Ruth stumbled over her words, quickly using the excuse that she needed her flight jacket as an excuse to return to the plane.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Hope groaned, shoving her brother playfully in the ribs.

“I don’t know, I’ve always considered myself rather charming,” Hugh protested, puffing out his chest in pride.

Hope nodded, spinning around to call Ruth to join them. The blonde soon was walking back toward the group, now wearing her fleece aviation jacket, and to her relief, without a rosy dusting on her cheeks.

“I still can’t believe out of all the airfields in England, you managed to land at this one,” Hugh laughed, throwing an arm around both girls' shoulders. “You two are in for a real treat.”

As they walked through the base, Hugh pointed out the various hard stands.

“See, right there,” he pointed at a few heavies. “That’s “Just-a-Snappin’, Our Baby, and the M’lle Zig Zig.”

“Where do you guys get these names, Hugh?” Hope laughed, her eyes trailing over each one’s elaborate nose art, along with some very proud-looking engineers and artists who had clearly put so much love into the bombers.

Shrugging his shoulders, Hugh sighed, shaking his head. “I couldn’t tell ya. What’s your plane named?”

“Just the Angel of Death,” Hope chirped.

Hugh stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Always with the dark humor, aren’t you, Hope.”

After hearing so much about the man from Hope, Ruth felt as if she’d known Hugh for years when in reality she’d only known him for a few minutes. She knew the stories of how the siblings played in the woods of Columbia, Missouri, exploring the famous rock bridge that brought hikers and tourists into the town. She knew of his love for the St. Louis Cardinals, and how he wore his battered and dirty Dizzy Dean jersey for a week straight after they won the World Series in ‘31 and ‘34. Maybe he’d heard so much about Ruth from Hope that he felt the same way.

‘It would make sense based on his initial reaction.’ she thought, absentmindedly reaching up and grabbing the small pendant hanging from her neck, running her fingers over its smooth edges.

Before they knew it, the trio reached their destination: his officer nissen hut. They were long semi-circular metal huts, not known for their warmth or comfortability, but they were a soft place to land at the end of the day…which is a lot more than most young men of the time could say.

“Welcome to my humble abode, ladies,” he announced as they neared the building, holding out his arms in a ‘ta-da’ motion. “She’s not much, but she’s home.”

He began to open the door for them, but a voice in the distance stopped him.

“Charlie! No girls in the huts,” the voice called. “I told you that a few weeks ago.”

Turning toward the voice, Hope did a double take when she saw who its owner. Approaching them was a tall, tan, brunette, who wore a bomber jacket with his hair messily combed to the side. He walked with a swagger that instantly put a bad taste in Hope’s mouth.

She sighed to herself, thinking, ‘Why do all the cute ones have to be cocky?’

Hugh groaned, pointing at Hope. “Buck, come on, this is my-”

The man finally reached them, and Hope stopped herself from being captivated by his blue-green eyes.

“I don’t care who she is. You know the rules,” he interrupted, turning to the girls. “Sorry girls, but I think it’s time for you to go.”

Ruth cringed and side-eyed Hope, already expecting a snarky response to his comment.

“Well,” she paused, checking her watch for effect. “Seeing as we have patients in the infirmary, it actually isn’t time for us to go.”

It was then that he looked down at her upper arm, taking in the bright red and white medic band that adorned her uniform. Ruth could see the slightest show of remorse in his expression as his eyes rose back up to Hope’s.

“My apologies, ma’am. I didn’t know-”

Hope didn’t let him finish, cutting him off. “Maybe you should know all the facts before you make an assumption, Buck.”

“Hope!” Ruth hissed, trying to placate her friend, but the woman ignored her.

“See, other than my brother, this is why I can’t stand airmen. They’re cocky-”

Realizing the flaw in Hope’s argument, Ruth ran a hand down her face, secondhand embarrassment filling her. Just when she was about to interject, Buck beat her to it.

“Now hold on. Maybe you should know all the facts before you make an assumption, sweetheart.”

Hope’s mind ran rampant with frustration, and she stared up at him with contempt as he smiled cheekily at her. His eyes were locked on hers as they had a stare-down, neither wanting to be the first to give in.

“So,” Hugh cleared his throat in an attempt to break their silent battle. “Let me introduce you guys. Ladies, this is my squadron commander, Major Buck Cleven.”

Buck tilted his head slightly, not breaking eye contact with Hope. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she replied dryly.

Ruth shook her head and sighed, amazed at her fellow nurse’s childlike stubbornness.

“And Buck, this is my sister, Hope, and her friend Ruth. They’re flight nurses with the 806th MAETS.”

Ruth raised a hand and waved with a quiet, “Hello,” and Hope felt a little satisfaction when the man’s eyes widened at the word sister.

Buck’s eys left Hope for a moment to acknowledge Ruth, who stood beside her, with a nod and a smile. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“You, too, Major,” she responded with a small grin. He then turned back to Hope.

“So, you’re the infamous little sister we’ve all heard about?” Buck chuckled, placing his hands on his hips.

The woman glanced over at Hugh, who wore a guilty expression. “All good things, I hope.”

“For the most part,” Buck chimed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know about your little escapade to Kansas City, and how–”

Hope’s eyes widened in disbelief that her brother had divulged her most embarrassing moment. “Hugh!!” she cried, smacking his chest. “You lying piece of crap! You promised!”

“It’s not like I thought you’d ever meet anyone here, Hope!”

Composing herself, she took a deep breath and sent Buck a tight-lipped smile. “It looks like you know a lot more about me than I do about you, Major.”

“It would seem so, Nurse Armstrong.”

As Ruth amusedly listened to Gale and Hope’s banter, she felt like she was being watched. Glancing around the group, her heart skipped a beat as her eyes met another set of icy blues, ones that were new to the group.

‘How did I miss him walking up?’ she wondered.

Their gazes locked for a few seconds that seemed to last minutes, and a shudder ran through her. Breaking from his stupor, he quickly looked away with a light pink dusting on his cheeks. Ruth felt her own blush creeping up her neck and wrapped her flight jacket closer to her body, the English chill suddenly getting to her.

Her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they fought to return to the handsome stranger. It took all her willpower to keep them on Hugh, who was talking to the group.

“I can’t imagine going up without weapons on board. We’ve got 12 50-cal brownings and sometimes I feel that’s not enough.”

The battle within herself became too much, and Ruth finally gave in to her temptation. Her eyes flitted over to the man, and she silently sighed in relief when she found his gaze elsewhere. It was then that she discovered her first assumption of the man being ‘handsome’ was an understatement. He had a strong and well-defined jawline, expressive and striking blue-grey eyes, a straight nose, and a slightly curved lip, which held a pencil-thin mustache.

She liked the mustache.

He wore a crooked crusher cap and a white fleece-lined flying jacket that looked somewhat dirty, accompanied by his brown service top poking out at the jacket collar.

Ruth was mesmerized by the man, and she didn’t even know his name. A wide grin broke out on his face as he engaged in the group’s conversation, his upper lip curling up, allowing a few teeth to peek out the top, and Ruth felt her stomach lurch for the second time in a short few minutes.

Focus, Ruth. Focus.

An elbow to her side broke her stare, and the group’s eyes were suddenly on her as Hope looked at her expectantly.

“What?” Ruth asked, looking like a deer in headlights.

“I said that we would go insane without each other up there.”

“Oh,” she sighed with a small smile. “You would probably kill Frank if I weren’t there.”

The group broke out in laughter, and Ruth found her eyes absentmindedly moving to the mystery man. As he chuckled, his eyes wrinkled at the edges, and his full smile revealed a dazzlingly straight set of pearly whites. His loud laughter was infectious, and a few giggles escaped her mouth.

As the group’s chuckles started to die down, Hope looked over at Ruth. She took in her friend’s shy smile and blush, then followed her gaze to the airman across the circle. Realizing what was happening, she nudged Ruth lightly, a teasing eyebrow raised.

“What?” Ruth grumbled under her breath, leaning closer to her friend’s ear as the guys carried on the group’s conversation.

“You like him.”

The blonde’s smile fell and heat rushed up her neck. “Who?”

Hope tilted her head incredulously, rolling her eyes. “You know who.”

“No, I don’t,” she defended,

“He’s staring,” Hope grinned, nodding his direction subtly.

Ruth’s eyes rose to his, and sure enough, his striking eyes were gazing into hers yet again. This time, however, he didn’t look away. The corner of his lips quirked up into a barely noticeable grin, and she felt as if she was shrinking under the intensity of his gaze.

“Uh, I need to go check on the patients,” she sputtered, pointing her fingers in the direction of the infirmary. With a curt nod to Hope, she quickly turned and started toward the infirmary, her blonde curls bouncing with each step. A few seconds later, she spun to face the group and called, “But it was…uh…nice to meet y’all.”

Hugh didn’t miss a beat and hollered back his reply. “You, too, Ruthie!” He then paused until she was out of earshot. “She alright?”

“She’s fine,” Hope sighed, used to her friend’s more timid personality. She had hoped that over time, her extroversion would rub off on the nurse, but so far, she had no such luck. Ruth was more of a one-on-one person, not one for groups of people unless she knew them pretty well. It seemed the smaller the group got, the more Ruth seemed to come alive. It was like pulling teeth to get Ruth to agree to go out with the other girls of the unit, but when she finally stepped out of her comfort zone, she usually had a good time filled with friends, fellas, and amazing big band music.

Ruth’s admirer joined the conversation, and Hope smirked, watching his eyes follow her friend. “How far away is your base?”

“We’re in Berkshire, so by car, it’s about three hours, but by plane, probably 45 minutes.”

“So not far,” he chimed, raising his eyebrows and nodding to himself. Before anyone else could comment, he spoke again.

“See you boys later,” he said absentmindedly as he watched Ruth’s figure go around a corner. Clapping Buck’s shoulder, he set off and followed the nurse’s path around the corner, missing the raised eyebrows and confused expressions sent his way. All eyes followed him as he, too, disappeared around the corner.

Hope pursed her lips at the new development, unsure of the man following Ruth. “Should I be worried?”

“Yep,” Hugh confirmed with a curt nod.

Buck hit him on the chest, chuckling under his breath. “Johnny’s a good man, darlin’.”

Hugh suppressed a snort thinking of the commander’s wild habits and how Buck didn't exactly answer her question.

“Anyways, back wh-”

And just like that, the conversation continued, and Hope had a strange feeling of contentment being on base. Finally being with family again.

As Ruth briskly made her way around the nissen huts to the infirmary, her heart continued to beat rapidly in her chest, and her mind replayed his smile non-stop.

Get it together, Ruth!

When she finally reached the infirmary, she stopped at the door, taking a deep breath to gain some composure. Within seconds of opening the heavy door, the base’s head surgeon approached her, wiping his hands with a rag.

“Hello,” he greeted. “I’m Captain Emory Kinder, and I’m assuming you’re one of the flight nurses who landed earlier?”

Ruth wore her signature toothy grin and nodded. “Yes, sir. Ruth Morgan. My other half is visiting with her brother as we speak.”

“Brother?”

“Yep, Hugh Armstrong,” she replied, her smile widening as his face lit up.

“Charlie! Oh yeah, I know him. He’s been in here for a few hangovers after a rowdy night in Dickleburgh.”

“Really?” Ruth chuckled, picturing the confident young man drunk as a skunk.

“Oh yeah. We love him though. He’s a good one for sure.”

A patient called out to him, and with a nod, he was off, helping the man. Ruth busied herself however she could, bringing airmen water, re-wrapping their bandages, and pretty much anything that would get her mind off the man from earlier. She was inspecting a man’s arm wound when the creaking of the door opening filled the building. Paying it no mind, she kept working, noting how the tissue was already healing.

“It looks good, Sergeant. You should be back in the air soon,” she said quietly.

His wide-eyed morphine-induced expression looked pitiful, but he managed to mumble out a, “Thank you, ma’am.”

Ruth gathered her supplies and stood to her feet, throwing away the bloody bandages when Emory's voice rang through the air.

“Speaking of rowdy nights in Dickleburgh...Major, what can I do for ya? Is that shoulder giving you problems again?”

“No, Doc,” the newcomer began, his deep voice breaking the relative quiet. “The shoulder’s fine. I just wanted to, you know, come see the boy-men.”

When she turned toward them and saw the white jacket, the roll of bandages fell from her grasp and hit the floor with a thud, rolling a few feet away to the man’s feet. The heat returned to her cheeks in a rush, and her eyes froze on the bandages for a moment, silently cursing the little white bundle. She watched in horror as the man slowly bent down and picked it up, walking toward her as he threw it up in the air and caught it.

“I think this yours,” he said, one side of his lips quirking up into a smirk as he held it out to her.

Raising her eyes from the bandage to his eyes, she prayed her voice would stay steady. “Thank you, sir.”

She took the bandage and tried to remain calm, her free hand raising to run her fingers over the cool metal of her locket.

“John. Major John Egan,” he introduced himself, extending his hand to her. “But you can call me Bucky.”

Ruth’s brows furrowed in confusion as she took his much larger hand and shook it gently. It was surprisingly soft compared to the men she’d treated from the lines. “Bucky? It’s there another-”

“Yeah,” John chuckled and slowly released her hand, shoving his in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “We call Cleven Buck, too. He hates it, but he deals with it.”

Grimacing playfully, she decided to go out on a limb despite her pounding heart. “Well, I, um, don’t know if I’ll be able to remember who’s who.”

“Oh no,” John tutted, his eyebrows raised and a wide-mouthed smile painting his lips. “We can’t have that. You can call me John, Johnny, whatever you want, doll, but I don’t think you’re going to have a hard time remembering my name.”

“And why would that be, Johnny?”

“Because you’ll see it at the bottom of each letter you’ll get from me.”

The blonde froze, dropping her necklace in disbelief as she swallowed thickly.

‘There is no way he just said that,’ her mind repeated. ‘There is no way he just said that.”

Pushing through her reserved personality and the tingling sensation swirling in her stomach, she decided to take a page from Hope’s book.

“What makes you think I’d let you write me, hotshot?”

Her mind went haywire. ‘‘Why did I just say that? I’m never taking Hope’s advice again. This is too stressful.’

For the first time in their interaction, his confident bravado seemed to fade and he didn’t quite know what to say. Perhaps he was always used to women giving in to his advances easily, but Ruth was not just another woman begging to be wooed. Johnny stood before her with furrowed brows, his upper lip sticking out slightly. He pushed back his jacket and placed his hands on his hips, his head ducking to the floor.

“Because I’d like to get to know you,” he replied earnestly, taking off his cap. “You’re gorgeous, and I would like to write you, Ruth.“

That was the last thing she expected.

In that moment, Ruth Morgan had a decision to make. Was she going to reject the airman or give him a chance? She knew she was attracted to him and there was chemistry there, but was she willing to put herself out there? The timid parts of her personality screamed at her to tell him no, but the parts that Hope had influenced were urging her to accept his offer. In the end, Ruth already liked Johnny, and she saw the sincerity in his statement as a deciding factor in the matter.

“Alright, you can write to me,” she answered quietly, pushing her hair behind her ear.

John watched as she walked to the infirmary desk and got a sheet of paper, scribbling down what he expected to be her address. He took in her features, just like he had earlier. Starting at her light blonde hair, his gaze traveled down her face to her familiar blue eyes, down her adorable nose, to her lips, which were pursed slightly as she concentrated on writing down her information. She was stunning, and Johnny knew that he wanted to see her again just from their short conversation.

Approaching him again, she held up a slip of paper, a toothy grin on her lips. “This is sensitive information, Major. It better not end up in enemy hands, and that includes your fellow airmen.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded once before fake saluting her, unable to keep his excitement inside. “Mission understood.”

“But just to be safe, I’m going to hold onto it for a little bit.” she leaned a little closer to him, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Just in case I, you know, change my mind.”

John grinned down at her and yet again raised his eyebrows as he nodded. Ruth noticed he did that a lot. “I’ll be on my best behavior, scout’s honor.”

Sliding the slip into her pocket, she started her nursing tasks once again, looking at him over her shoulder. “So, you were in the Boy Scouts?”

“No,” he chuckled, putting back on his cap as he moved next to Ruth to help. “I wasn’t, but Buck was. He ended up being an Eagle Scout before he aged out. One of the best in Wyoming, he says, but I don't buy it.”

He stood a good 5 or so inches above her, so his chin was at her eye level. In the small area at the nursing station, his shoulder was just barely pressed against hers as they both worked to roll bandages, and Ruth could feel the warmth radiating from his touch.

“It seems like you know each other pretty well,” she stated, looking up at him briefly.

His concentration remained on the bandage in his hands as he spoke. “Yeah. He’s my best friend.”

“How long have you known each other?” She asked, reaching up to mess with her necklace.

“We both joined up in ‘40 and were roommates in basic. Been together ever since.”

“That reminds me of Hope and I, although we haven’t known each other for nearly that long.”

John placed the finished bandage in the basket and turned to face her, leaning a hip against the counter as his earnest expression returned. “War makes people closer. Makes ‘em realize who’s important. What’s important.”

The blonde mirrored his stance, taking in his words. He was right. War did have a way of bringing people together. She gazed up at him with a shared understanding of how something as terrible as the war had brought out the best and worst in people, as well as brought people into their lives for the better. The pair’s eyes remained locked for a few moments, both realizing that perhaps there was something deeper than the flirting between them. His warm eyes seemed to search hers, and to her surprise, she didn’t feel nervous in that moment. Johnny’s gaze was like a warm blanket enveloping all of her senses to the point that all she could see was him.

“I feel the same way,” Ruth finally answered, fixing a stray curl that had fallen into her eyes.

Half of his lips curled up in a grin and he took a step toward her. “Ruth, I-”

The loud opening of the door jolted them from the moment, sending both their heads in the direction of the entrance. There stood an out-of-breath Frank, whose face was bright red and shimmering with sweat.

“Ruth! Do you know how long I’ve been looking for ya?” He cried, approaching them quickly.

Unsure of the man’s intentions, Johnny straightened and moved just barely in front of her, holding out a hand towards Frank. “Woah, buddy.”

Although it was an endearing effort, she couldn’t hold in a loud giggle at Frank’s offended expression that followed. “No, Johnny,” she laughed, gently lowering his hand. “This is our pilot, Frank. Frank, this is Major John Egan. What is it?”

The pilot’s eyes flicked between Ruth and Johnny for a few seconds before he sighed. “I’ve filled the Angel up and it’s time to go. Find Hope and meet me back at the plane.”

Just like that, he was out the door again, probably to get ready for takeoff. Ruth’s heart sank at the realization that she was having to leave. It seemed he also came to the same conclusion as he turned toward her and sighed.

“Looks like you’ve gotta go,” he said softly, slightly tilting his head to the side as he peered down at her.

The nurse looked at the door, then lowered her gaze to her feet. “It sure does.”

She almost gasped in surprise when something warm grasped her hand gently. Her eyes shot up to John’s hand that held delicately held hers. The contact sent a tingle up her arm and seemingly straight to her mind, muddying her thoughts.

“I'd like to see you again,” he murmured where only she could hear.

This quieter, softer version of him was unknown to Ruth, but she knew instantly that she liked the duality of Johnny.

The blush she’d resisted finally won and dusted her cheeks as she looked up at him. “I’d like that, too.”

John softly tugged her hand closer and bridged the distance between them slowly, his entrancing eyes flicking between her eyes and lips. Ruth could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood on her toes to meet him. She felt his warm breath on her face, and her eyes fluttered closed, anticipating the kiss. But before their lips could meet, the door opened again, and Frank called out to her.

“Ruth, come on! You can neck the Major later!”

The door quickly creaked closed.

Heat rushed to Ruth’s face, and she reluctantly pulled back from Johnny, setting her heels back on the ground. Johnny awkwardly stood to his full height, glaring at the door where Frank stood moments before.

“I’ll see you next time, Johnny,” Ruth smiled bashfully, gently squeezing his hand once before dropping it. She walked backward to the door, praying she wouldn’t trip.

Johnny let out a huff of air as the biggest smile grew on his face. “So there will be a next time?”

She simply grinned at him, shrugging her shoulders when she turned to open the door. With one last look over her shoulder, she closed the door behind her.

The infirmary was silent for a few seconds, and then the patients erupted in hollers, cheers, and whistles.

“Way to go, Bucky!”

“Leave some for the rest of us, Major!”

Amid their uproar, John remembered a crucial detail: She hadn’t given him her address! He took off toward the door, reaching for the handle when it creaked open, revealing a laughing Ruth on the other side. She held out the slip to him.

“I think you behaved well enough, Major.”

“Told you,” he chimed, his eyebrows raising. “Scout’s honor.”

John took the paper from her outstretched hand and watched as she left once again. When the door had slammed shut behind her, he read the note to himself with a wide smile.

Hotshot,

You can write me at the Grove, Berkshire, Hut 4. I like you, so try not to get shot down before I can return your letter, and I’ll do the same.

Safe Flying,

Ruth Morgan

Johnny shot his hand with the paper into the air, and the men cheered once again. Ruth, on the other hand, was in disbelief of what had just transpired. She had almost kissed him! She wanted to kiss him! Running her hands through her hair, she tried to focus on the task at hand: finding Hope.

Ruth ran around the base like a chicken with her head cut off looking for the woman, and was about to give up when she saw her sitting in a jeep with Buck in the distance.

“HOPE! There you are, I've been looking everywhere. Frank fueled up the plane. We have to go,” Ruth huffed, clearly out of breath from running, but her flushed cheeks, Hope thought, told a different story.

“Okay, I'll be over in five minutes,” Hope promised, but Ruth didn't look convinced.

“Your five minutes or an actual five minutes?” She asked, and the glare Hope sent her way had Ruth turning around and heading back in the direction she’d come.

“Okay, but I'll be timing you,” she yelled over her shoulder.

When Ruth looked back to see Hope kissing Buck on the cheek, it occurred to her that maybe there were more trips to Thorpe Abbotts in the cards for both of them.

Tag List: @xxluckystrike @precious-little-scoundrel @bcofl0ve @violetdaze25 @docroesmorphine

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thecoleopterawithana · 11 months

Text

Now and Then

1977

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

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

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

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

1978

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

1981

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

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

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

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

1994

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

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

1995

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

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

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

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

2007

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

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

2012

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

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

2018

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

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

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

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

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

2022

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

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

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

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

2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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allbark-no-bite · 2 years

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who are you mad at.

topper thornton x reader (wc: 3.4k)

summary: Topper doesn’t appreciate John B’s friendship with his girlfriend. sometimes all it takes is a blowjob and a little bit of forgiveness

warnings: 18+ smut, blow jobs, mentions of blood, over possessive boyfriend

author’s note: not me actually writing something with plot lol. i cannot believe all of the support i got on my last post, thank you all! i’m know that this isn’t Rafe lol, but i hope you’ll all give it a shot!

————————————————————————

As a little girl, I could never understand why the sheriff and the judge always drank coffee on my grandads front porch. It took me a few years to realize that it was probably for the same reason that the judge's grandson was always so sweet on me.

Politics in a small town like Kildare run deep on family ties and favors. It's all about who's blood is running through who and who's bed you wake up in when the sun comes up. As my best friend Sarah has often laughed about, it's all about how you know or who you'll blow.

Speaking of which, Topper's zipping up the fly on his jeans, fingers fumbling as he misses the hole for the button and has to try again. His cheeks are noticeably flushed, blue eyes distracted as he fidgets with his shaggy but nevertheless, neat crop of hair. No one would expect anything less of Figure Eight's golden boy.

I can't help but smile, biting my lip in an effort to conceal it from where I'm knelt on the floor. He's stupidly pretty. Blue eyes, straight nose, chin that dimples when he smiles.

He must feel my gaze on him because he catches my eye as he's buckling his belt and looks back at me. "What?" he laughs, breaking out into a bashful smile that matches my own.

"I don't know," I say, still smiling, and accept the hand he offers to pull me to my feet.

I don't remember when exactly Topper and I stopped being friends and started actually dating. It all happened so naturally that I don't know if we ever really distinguished between the two. One day we were just friends hanging out, getting drunk at the Boneyard, and then the next week he's kissing me at a party for everyone to see, like it wasn't a big deal that my best friend was kissing me. In some ways I guess it wasn't. It had never occurred to me that I would date anyone else. Sure Topper had dated Sarah for a while, but even that was short lived, and he had always been very upfront with me about it.

"Just you, I guess," I propose, grinning wider as he circles his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.

He's dressed up nicer than usual this evening for the Carrera's anniversary party in a billowy blue and white button up and khakis. The light colors pale in comparison to his bronzed skin, a likely permanent feature that the Carolina sun has given him.

"Really?" he hums, pecking my lips as my head tilts back to look up at him. My lips purse pliantly in response. Topper brushes aside the hair from my shoulder and hums, immediately pleased with the amount of exposed skin that he is rewarded with. The tank top that I'm wearing gives him the opportunity to ghost his lips along my shoulder until he settles on placing a kiss to the crevice of my neck.

My fingers curl into the brunette roots at the base of his neck at the attention. "It's not often I get you to myself."

With Topper's mom being the overbearing mother that she was, and the pressure that came with being the Judge's grandson, it was hard to get him out of their sights. However, if either bothered him, he never confessed such qualms to me. Such reasons are also why I think he was more privy to the political concept of our relationship than I was.

I remember being sixteen when a neighbor called the cops on one of Kelce's parties well after midnight. Of course no one knew this until Shoupe and a couple of his deputies showed up, sirens blaring. Most definitely a little buzzed and close to sobbing in the backseat of Shoupe's patrol car, I couldn't understand why Topper was so calm at the time. He just kept repeating, 'Don't worry about it, baby' and 'It'll all be fine'. At the time I hadn't noticed we were the only ones not in handcuffs. I thought for sure I was going to spent the night in jail and then my parents were going to kill me the next morning. He obviously knew something I didn't because twenty minutes later the patrol car was pulling into my driveway, Judge Thornton waiting on the porch with my grandad to take Topper home. The three of them shook hands and not a word was uttered about the incident again.

Topper dips his head to capture my mouth again, his teeth catching on the pout of my bottom lip.

Pressed to the front of my body, I feel his dick twitch in interest. I'm half compelled to drop to my knees and suck him off a second time just for the hell of it. The only problem is that he's got lipstick smeared on his mouth and his shirt is wrinkled and he's going to be late.

"Topper—" I begin.

"I know—I know—I know," he stresses, leaning down to kiss behind my ear again and then my cheek. "I'm going, I'm going."

Just when he pulls back and I go to step away, he grabs my face again, drawing my mouth back for another kiss.

"Topper—"

"I love you," he mumbles quickly after what is probably his hundredth kiss. "Okay. I'm going. I'll see you in a minute."

I watch him slip out the back door of the pool house we'd escaped to momentarily. I look over at the clock. What was supposed to be a quick five minute make out had turned into nearly half an hour. Thankfully, no one had been sent to look for us — namely my friends. Besides Kie and Sarah, the boys were off treasure hunting with Big John.

With all of the craziness going on in the past week, I was glad for the occasion to celebrate and enjoy the party. The evening air is cool and people are chattering excitedly, laughing and enjoying drinks. I spot Kie with her parents as I move throughout the crowd and she waves me over with a smile. Once I’m close enough, she latches onto my arm.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Big John was kidnapped, the boys are running off to South America to save him, and my parents won’t let me out of their sight,” she whispers through gritted teeth.

“Shit,” I whisper.

“Yeah, shit,” Kie stresses.

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry, I’m on it.” Turning to her dad with the brightest smile I can muster, I link arms with Kie. Thankfully, I fit in the with standard of friends Kid’s dad wants her to have, and he seems to be thankful I hang around.

“Hey, Mr. Carrera. I’m just going to steal Kie away for a moment. I promise we’ll be right back!”

He blinks, as if thinking about it for a moment before nodding. “Okay, just stay out of trouble you two.”

“We will!” I take off, dragging her with me as soon as the words leave his mouth. We haul it through throngs of tipsy guests, dodging anyone who might think to stop us.

“Wait!” Kie yelps snagging my arm before we reach the dock. Out of breath, I skid to a stop beside her.

“What—”

“Oh God,” she breathes.

Heart racing with adrenaline, I take another step towards the dock, dragging her along with me. “Kie, whatever it is, we have to go—”

“It’s John B. He’s talking to Topper.”

Straight ahead of us, I can make out John B’s wild head of hair and dingy yellow shirt. Him being the taller of the two, I glimpse the familiar white of Topper’s shirt just in front of him. Their voices are escalating by the moment, and I can make out the sound of Topper saying, “I want to know why you’re looking for my fucking girlfriend—”

“Oh God,” I repeat this time.

“(y/n), you need to go,” Kie stresses.

I take off before she even finishes her sentence, not even excusing myself as I dash past unsuspecting guests. People have started to stare and a sizable crowd has formed around them.

“— just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean she can’t have friends without you.”

Topper scoffs. “Oh I see. This is about your little treasure hunting bullshit. So you think you can just run around with my girlfriend, do whatever the hell you want with her without me knowing?”

John B shoves him backwards, hard. “That’s not true!”

“John B, stop!” I shout, shoving my way to the front of the crowd as Topper catches himself. But it’s too late, John B is already grabbing the front of Topper’s shirt and yanking him to his feet.

The thing is, it’s not that Topper can’t defend himself, he’s more than capable of holding his own. It’s that he won’t. He won’t ruin his reputation in front of half the town. All he does is sneer, breathing hard as his blue eyes glint with hate. Topper had never liked my friends, only tolerated them for my sake — up until now.

“You think I don’t know?” Topper jeers. “All you’ve ever wanted is to get with (y/n).”

That’s all it takes for John B to swing. I scream as Topper stumbles backwards to the ground. Chaos erupts around us. I see Mr. Carrera hoist Topper to his feet, and my heart clenches at the sight. Blood is leaking from his nose and a dark rouge colored ring has already begun to form around his eye. When I move forward to help him, John B grabs my arm.

“We have to go. Now.”

My feet planted into the ground, I glance down at his split knuckles, and then back at Topper. Who do I choose? My best friend or my boyfriend?

Voice strained, I turn to John B. “I can’t just leave—”

“HELLO!! Now or never, guys!” JJ is on the dock with Kiara, and Sarah. Pope and Cleo are already in the boat.

“Go!” John B urges, shoving me in front of him. With one last look over my shoulder at Topper’s bloody face, I take off running down the dock with John B behind me.

—

I know he's mad before he even yanks the passenger side door open and drags me by my elbow to the car. Although his scowl and matching black eye are pretty heavy indicators, it's the stalk from the drivers side and around the front of the Jeep that tips me off.

"Get in the car, (y/n)," he barks without so much as a second glance at me.

John B and Pope glance at each other apprehensively. JJ and Kiara share similar looks.

With the passenger side door now open and Topper waiting for me to march myself over there, I hesitantly stand my ground. Anxiously, I swallow back the swell in my throat. "Go home, Top."

He throws his hands up in exasperation and shakes his head. "This—this is fucking ridiculous. Get in the car, (y/n)."

When I don't make a move either way, Cleo speaks up. "Leave her alone, man. She ain't gotta go nowhere wit' you." Her thick accent rings out loud and clear, but Topper pretends as though he doesn't hear her.

Having enough of our back and forth game, Topper strides over and grabs a firm hold of my elbow, intending to move me himself. Although I take a reflexive step backwards, I don't fight him off. At the same time, John B steps forward, ready to give Topper a black eye to match the other.

"John B, no," I immediately blurt out, twisting as best I can in Topper's grasp. "It's fine. It's fine." Sighing I turn back to Topper. "Okay," I relent. "Let's go."

We drive in silence for a while, waiting for the other to speak. I'm half hoping he won't and we'll make the entirety of the trip without uttering a word. Across the seat, we make eye contact and I scowl at him for the split second our eyes meet. Then I turn away and cross my arms with an air of defiance.

When I glance sideways at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes fixed on the road. I know him well enough to know that he's weighing out his options on what to say, determining what kind of conversation we're going to have.

He opens his mouth, starting to say something, then closes it and drags a hand over his jaw. "How many times did I call you?"

I shrug. "I don't know—"

"God dammit, (y/n). How many times did I call you!??" He slams his hand down on the console this time.

"I DON'T KNOW, TOPPER."

I do. Twenty-seven. He called twenty-seven times in addition to the missed texts and multiple question marks. I don't admit that though because it's easier to scream back at him than to admit that I was purposely avoiding his calls.

"You have got to stop hanging around with the wrong people. Start making better decisions." He's lowered his voice to a more appropriate volume now.

I glance over at him, a narrowed look on my face. "Who are you mad at, Topper?" I question. "Because I don't think it's me."

In the drivers seat, he continues to stare ahead at the road. "It's always fucking John B, isn't it. You always have to go to his rescue."

I set my jaw, knowing where his mind is and where this is going. "I didn't sleep with him, Topper."

Topper scoffs as if to make light of the situation. "Oh, for sure. You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's not like that. He's my friend."

We pull into his driveway, and Topper finally turns to me after parking the car. "Yeah? Well I'm your friend too, (y/n). You ever fucking think about that? Why do you think you're not sitting in jail right now with the rest of your so called friends?" He jabs a finger into his chest. "Me. Because I care about you!"

My back pressed up against the passenger side door, all I can do is blink in surprise. I'm not used to Topper yelling at me, and I'm not so sure I like it. I'd never thought about it that way before and guilt begins to creep into the pit of my stomach. My eyes suddenly sting and my nose burns with the threat of tears.

"I'm sorry," I whisper barley audible, my voice cracking.

Topper falls back heavily into his seat and sighs, running a hand over his face. Without a word, he gathers his keys from the truck's ignition and steps out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Teary eyed, I watch him take the steps up the porch and pace up and down the length of it while repeatedly running a frustrated hand through his hair. I get out of his truck and walk up the steps after a few minutes. Confident that he's done yelling but unsure of where we stand at the moment, I stop just short of him.

Hands in his pockets, Topper runs his gaze over me from head to toe after coming to a stop in front of me before he emits another heavy sigh and curls his hand around my jaw, forcing me to look upwards at him. "Answer me when I call you, alright?"

Nodding, I swallow under the weight of his hand as his fingers travel down to my throat. His blue eyes are focused and yet lack their usual jubilance. I nearly whine in relief when he leans down to kiss me.

He tastes fresh, like he always does, a mix between peppermint gum and mint toothpaste. The taste resonates within me a type of unspoken forgiveness that I sense is being granted as his other hand presses my body into his. I can feel the rigid outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his shorts, and it sends my heart racing in anticipation.

The thing about Topper is that he's always been able to read me impossibly well, and so when he disconnects our mouths by using the leverage of his hand on my throat to hold me back, he chuckles airily. "Feel me? That's what you do to me, you little tease."

I paw at him, grabbing at the waistband of his shorts to pull his body closer. Topper is nearly a foot taller than me, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Top."

He hums, the thumb of his hand moving to tug at the swollen pout of my bottom lip. "Are you? He's only giving me a hard time now, not even allowing me to answer before his thumb slips into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. "Going to be good for me then?"

The weight of his thumb is so soothingly familiar that I forget to respond in favor of suckling around the digit.

"Baby." He's quick to remind me, drawing his thumb from my mouth and swiping it wetly across my cheek to grip my jaw again.

My flushed cheeks forced into a pout, I nod as much as his hold on me will allow. "Mhm."

Topper glances over his shoulder, briefly surveying the closed blinds of the windows looking out on to the front porch, and then back to me.

"Alright, on your knees, pretty girl."

He doesn't have to ask twice. He's undoing his belt with one experienced hand and gathering a fist full of my hair at the back of my head with the other. Once removed from the confines of his boxers, his cock bobs at the freedom.

If there's one thing myself and multiple other girls in the Outer Banks can attest to, it's that sucking off Topper Thornton is a pleasure. I'd heard the rumors whispered around school even before we started dating. It was weird at the time, having to hear that kind of thing about my best friend, but once we started dating, I understood where they were coming from. With some guys, blowing them is an outright chore, but not Topper. He knows exactly what he's working with and how to use it.

Once again, he's heavy in my mouth. This time in a pleasurably aching way. His tip nudges the back of my throat, and I have to remind myself to relax and breathe through my nose as tears spring to my eyes. He swipes away a stray tear before it can fall.

"There you go, baby. Good."

He doesn't buck up into my throat, forcing me to gag and sputter as I try to accommodate his length — at least not this time. Topper just fists my hair and rocks slowly back and forth, eyes rolling as my throat clenches around him. My nose nearly digs into his pelvis by the time he's satisfied that his cock is nestled as far as it can get into the heat of my throat.

With the makeshift ponytail, Topper pulls almost all of the way out of my mouth before guiding himself back in. Each time the mushroomed tip kisses the back of my throat, he pulls his cock out of my mouth again. All it takes is a few good strokes before he's spilling into my mouth, moaning while I struggle to take him all. He pulls out when he's finished.

"Swallow," he instructs, tilting my jaw back so that I have but one option. Not that I would argue with him anyhow. I'm used to how he tastes, salty and strangely satisfying, His hot release slides down my throat. At first I would have wrinkled my nose at the thought of such a thing, but strangely, I've become accustomed to the taste. It's uniquely Topper, as odd as that sounds.

He helps me to my feet and plants another slow kiss to my swollen lips. I keen at the attention, my brain feeling sluggish and wishing he would just wrap his large hand around my throat again.

"I love you," he finally murmurs, pressing a find kiss to my forehead; a stark contrast to his manhandling moments before.

"Love you too."

Around us, the porch goes dark for a split second and I bolt into Topper's arms before the lights flicker back on. This repeats a few more times; long enough for us to realize that his dad is likely on the other side of the front door.

Topper groans. "Shit."

"Shit."

#rafe outer banks #outer banks #obx3 #obx x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron #topper thornton #topper thorton smut #topper thorton imagine #topper x reader #topper thorton x reader #topper obx #topper smut

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hope-to-hell · 5 months

Text

John Wick. The one good thing about being alone with nothing to do. Smut, masturbation, blood, blood as lube, spit as lube. He’s got a little downtime alone. What’s a man to do but take the edge off?

This began as a single, very specific mental image that then, naturally, needed a story to go with it.

———

The house always wins. You can’t fight fate. All that is, and was, will be again. The lesson’s on an infinite loop, round and round like ribbon, like rope, and yeah, sure. Maybe it’s true: maybe our lives are measured by blood moving through the body one heartbeat at a time. But it’s not like there’s nothing beyond the chains of fate— there has to be something that makes this all worthwhile, something beyond the gilded cage of order. Even if it’s just a single moment— one spark in the darkness—

One blinding white jolt of pleasure, brutal and unforgiving, a tracery of veins crossing your vision and oh, Johnny boy, there’s always one more, one more

One more

One more job (one more stroke)

and it’ll be done. You’re gonna go out wet and sticky, maybe moaning a little, more likely stoic and silent. But, hey. You’ve got a little time, old friend, so go ahead and lean back; try to pull the iron from your spine far enough to curl in and over yourself. The wall’s cold— these rooms aren’t made for comfort, after all— but soon it’ll be blood-warm in the shape of your body. Take a few breaths and slide down down down til your ass is freezing on the floor; your seat’s all shivery-wet but the rest of you’s still soaked anyhow so who gives a fuck.

And anyway, you look like hell but that’s a distant concern; if— when— this ends you can patch yourself up, butterfly bandages and rough stitches telling the story of this long night. But while you’re here with nothing to do but wait, how about you take the edge off a little? After all, with the way you’re straining at your trousers, it’s a wonder you’ve been able to think at all. You’re a man of focus, right? Focus on yourself a minute. Get your mind quiet so you can put your thoughts in order. So open your fly and feel the cool air on your cock; swipe your hand across the wound that’s oozing sluggish on your belly. Fuckin hurts, right? That’s okay. Look at how you’re already twitching with anticipation.

There’s nothing like a palm full of blood to get things going; it’s still a rough burn but it just looks so pretty on your cock, doesn’t it? Savor it. Admire the way it streaks bright across your knuckles and drips along your shaft. Yeah, yeah. You’re itching to spit, to see if you can get it right on the head cause it just feels so dirty when you twist and drag your hand to spread it around.

And you are not going to think about— no. Don’t even think of what (who) you’re doing your damnedest to keep out of your head. Blank it all out. Put that focus to good use— this is between you and your hand. Go ahead and tighten your grip just that little bit more. Grab the bud of that dirty shameful little thought and crush it before it can bloom. You’re gonna need a clear head, and isn’t that what this is all about? Weeding out distractions?

Nevermind the way need ripples down your spine when you see yourself all red and white, sticky and twitching and oh, John, baby, that nasty deep-down voice is saying these hands of yours weren’t made for gentleness and maybe that’s so; but you’ve had five years to give yourself some balance and don’t you dare lose that part of yourself now. Nevermind the calluses on your thumb and fingers, raised in the shape of a pistol grip, and how their friction is so fucking sweet. There’s something you need. Dig down and root it out.

‘Course, you’re still listening for muffled footfalls just outside; you may be stuck in the liminal space between one firefight and the next, but you never really rest. You’ve got so many what-ifs and contingencies racing through your head. Aren’t you tired, trying to find a single path through it all? Yeah, you’re worn to the bone but that’s the life. You get through one way or another, even when you’re worn down to nothing but wet red footprints on the tile.

Hey, Johnny boy—you disaster, you gorgeous ruthless singleminded sonuvabitch— do you feel that? The gold thread at the base of your spine coiling tighter and tighter but not quite breaking? That’s your climax just out of reach, the candle wick that’s just a hair’s breadth too far from the flame. That’s clarity. You know what you need to get there: a little more spit for slick, tinged red from the sting of a split lip, maybe another drag through the slow bleed on your belly. Hold your breath. Curl your toes inside your shoes. Focus. Take all those aches and pains, those cuts and stabs, those bone-deep bruises. Gather them up and pour them into your hand.

That’s it. That’s good— you’re so very nearly there. Your balls are drawn up so damned tight, you’re like a gift to be torn open. All you need’s a little ribbon and a tag: to John, from your right hand. Keep holding your breath until the edges of your vision haze out— there’s that focus, that pure unadulterated will that keeps you going until you’re ready to give. The precipice is right there, knife-sharp, waiting. Go ahead—

exhale—

And fall.

There, now. Doesn’t that feel better? Sure, you’re a little sticky but it’s not like it matters. You’re filthy already, so a little semen’s just another drop in a deep well. Tuck yourself away and prick your ears for the sound of distant footsteps. Someone’s coming.

#john wick #john wick fic #john wick smut #John wick x his right hand

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iminloveweveryone · 1 year

Text

Cold

Grumpy simon smut

Here you go since I’m bad at writing smut without plot like gr anyway I think this is cute he’s kinda jealous a bit grumpy

Also if you have requests send them in! I’m always looking for ideas.

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“So? Are you in?”

“…”

“Yes.”

“Good, you leave tomorrow. 6 am.”

…

That’s how I found myself on a helicopter in the early morning, being transferred to the base where task force 141 resides.

I stared out the window quietly, since I’d run out of things to talk about with the pilot. I see a large building come into view as we slowly start to descend.

The heli lands and I grab onto my large duffel bag, swinging it over my shoulder. I look over our surroundings and see four men standing in the distance. I recognize only one, captain price.

I step out and walk over towards the group, a smile on my face.

“Hi, I’m Alessandra.” I say as I look between them. “John price, I’ve heard about you, laswell

Says your one hell of a shot.” He smiles at me and I only nod along.

“Soap, you can call me John if ya like lass.” He says with a grin spread across his face, I can’t help but notice his hair, which is cut into a Mohawk. I smile at the friendly man and shake his hand.

“I’m Kyle, team calls me Gaz though.” He nods at me before crossing his arms.

I look over to the last man who stays silent before Soap speaks up. “This here is si-“

“Ghost.” He says cutting off soap. I nod and give him a small smile.

The walk me through the base and what missions may come up soon, before dropping me off at my room and letting me settle in.

I place the few items I have around the rooms before smiling to myself and exiting. I wander down the hallway to where I remember the kitchen was.

It smells good?

I walk in and see price in the kitchen, storing something in a pot. “Ooh what are you makin?” I ask curiously as I take a seat at the kitchen counter.

“Chilli, perfect for winter, no?” He glances at me and I nod. I turn my head as soap walks into the kitchen “he says it’s world famous” he grins “honestly he probably stole the recipe from some old woman” he says making me laugh.

Price serves us a bowl of chilli and a piece of bread on the side. I begin eating when I look around and notice Ghost is absent from the table.

Gaz must have noticed me looking around as he speaks up. “Doesn’t like to eat around new people” he shrugs “don’t take it personal” he says with a friendly smile.

We all finished our food and have moved onto to board games, which I have to say i am the best at by far.

We’re playing charades, which Ghost has decided to not show up for either.

I was partnered with soap, and we were winning by a lot.

“Okay three words.” Gaz nods at the captain “first word.” He starts waving his arms around like a distressed seagull.

“Uh..windmill” He shakes his head and starts doing the motion again. “Damn, uh..” the timer goes off and soap and I cheer.

“It was flying a kite! I was trying to do a flying motion like a chicken” he puts his head in his hands dramatically.

“Chickens are horrible at flying idiot!” Price shouts before we all burst out into laughter, soap practically falling to the floor.

We play a few more rounds before calling it a night and everyone starts to head off to bed.

I’m waking down the hallway as I hear price call out to me, I turn to look at him.

“So you know, you’ll be shadowing Ghost tomorrow. Just to get a feel of things round here.” He says before patting my shoulder and heading off somewhere.

I head off to bed, practically falling asleep as soon as my face hits the pillow.

…

I’ve been looking for a Ghost for a while now, since I was supposed to shadow him. But he really lives up to his name since he is nowhere to be found.

I reach a shooting range which seems to be empty until I spot him at the very last lane. I walk inside and stand a few feet away.

He puts his gun down and turns to face me, somehow sending I was there..

He gives me a blank look probably wondering what I was doing but not saying anything.

“Price said I would shadow you today, to get a feel for things I guess?” I say as he only sighs and starts to put his gun away.

“So where are we going? Do you have to do much around here or is it more like waiting for the next mission?” I wonder out loud as he stays silent which urges me to talk more.

“And about the mission, how do you guys plan them? Or is it price who does most of it and then you guys kinda just follow the plan.” I say not even facing him anymore as I ramble on.

“Jesus..” I hear him mumble under his breath as he starts to walk out of the room. “Hey! Where are you going lieutenant?” I ask as I trail behind him.

He walks down a long hallway, a few soldiers passing by us and giving him a nod. I look around curiously, not having yet explored this part of the base.

I follow him into a room at the end of the hall, which starts to look more like a office the more I glance around.

As soon as I fully step inside he’s slamming me against the door and locking it. “Don’t know how to be quiet, huh?” He asks as he pins my arms above my head.

I can only sit there and stare at him, fully at a loss for words.

“Acting all friendly with everyone, don’t you know when to shut up? Don’t you notice all the people eyeing you.” He says in a cold tone as his face is inches away from mine.

“Need someone to teach ya?” He stares me dead in the eyes. I nod my head at him slowly.

“Words sweetheart, words.” He mumbles as he looks down at me. “Yes..”

“Yes what?” He asks teasingly “yes..please.” I swear a see a smirk under that mask.

“That’s better.” He mutters before slowly lowering his head and lifting his mask just enough to show his lips. He kisses along my neck sloppily, leaving hickeys all over the place.

I let out small whimpers, trying to stay quiet in case anyone decides to walk by here. His hands roam down to my waist and gives it a little squeeze before he’s picking me up and putting me back down on his desk.

He slowly reaches down to my pants, harshly pulling them down without any warning. His hands find the hem of my panties and he tugs on them before looking up to me, seemingly for permission. I nod at him eagerly as he drops the to the floor, letting them fall in some unknown corner.

I hear heavy breathing and the sound of his belt clanging as he moves to undo it. His pants drop along with his boxers.

I look down and damn.

He moves closer, holding onto my thighs with his large hands. He lines it up with my entrance and slowly starts to push in, giving me a few seconds to adjust.

I let out whimpers and moans at the feeling of him inside, which only seems to feed his ego and make him more eager.

He starts to move, his pace slow at first. “Fuck, so tight..” he mumbles into my neck as he thrusts faster. “Doing so good f’me”

His hips rocks into me, pounding harder until I can practically feel his tip in my stomach. I let out loud moans at the feeling.

“Gotta stay quiet sweetheart, yeah?” I bite down onto my lip, trying to keep any sounds inside. He moves relentlessly, practically feral.

“Gho..” my voice is hoarse as I speak.

“Hm?” He says breathlessly. “M’ so close..gonna cum..” I whine into his shoulder. “Fuck, fuck..gonna cum for me? For your lieutenant?” He grunts into my ear as I only nod at him eagerly.

He holds onto my thighs harshly as I feel the waves of my orgasm hit me, hard. My legs shake a little but he holds them down, as he cums right after me.

“Think ya can give me one more?” He says cockily before he starts pounding into me again. I let out whines as he only goes harder this time.

“S’too much..” I moan out “you can do it, you’re doing so good.” He encourages as his hands find my waist and he clamps down on it.

“Fuck, gonna leave marks all over your body.” He grumbles “everyone will know who you belong to then.”

I stay silent, too lost in the pleasure he’s giving me to respond. I feel myself once again reaching a high and my hands find his back, probably leaving marks all over.

“You close?” He asks and I nod eagerly. I open my mouth a little as the feeling in my stomach rises. “You wanna cum?” He asks “yes!” I practically shout. “say your mine then.” He says coldly.

“I’m..yours, please..” I pant out as his grip on my waist tightens “good girl, so good f’me.” He says as I come undone on his cock.

Heavy breathing fills the room as he holds onto me tightly. Letting me relax in his arms before pulling out.

“Tired?” He ask softly and I nod against him. He picks me up and dresses me before leading me to my room and letting me fall asleep on his chest.

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#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #task force 141 #call of duty #smut #john prine #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #john mactavish #soap mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #first person #mask

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hbowarbabes · 7 months

Text

Living to See Another Day Pt. 3

John "Bucky" Egan x Reader

Summary: After being caught by civilians, Bucky and Y/n are now on the path to becoming POWs. As they endure the torture that welcomes them to the foreign territory, will they manage to escape?

Words: 2.8k

Warning: Blood, violence

Previous | Next

• • •

The boxcar was dark and stuffy, filled with the stench of fear and sweat. Y/n sat on the hard wooden bench next to Bucky, her heart pounding in her chest. Both of them knew they had to escape. It’s what they were trained to do along with all the other things.

With them were three other men, who had to be airmen just from looking at their attire. Y/n was thankful that she wouldn’t be alone.

The brakes screeched aggressively. There was a loud banging sound echoing inside the boxcar as it came to a halt.

One of the guards rose from his seat and approached another guard. Both began speaking in German.

Bucky took this opportunity to speak to one of the other men with them.

To his left, he noticed a man who had a bloody ankle. If they were going to make an escape, he had to know that everyone there could be capable of doing so.

“Where you from?” Bucky asked in a low voice, barely even a whisper. The man looked up, his eyes weary.

“381st. We fly together. The man motioned in the direction of the two other men sitting behind Y/n.

“You?”

“100th. When we get a chance, you think you can run on that ankle?”

“I don’t think so-”

Just then, the guard sitting across from them hit his rifle against the wooden floor of the boxcar, shouting something in German. Even if they couldn’t understand him, they could see the anger in the guard’s eyes.

It would be best that they all stay quiet if they wanted to see daylight again.

Bucky could see the unease in Y/n’s face. He gently brushed his fingers over her knuckle once the guard was no longer looking.

“It’s gonna be ok, Y/n.” He muttered softly in Y/n’s ear, helping to calm the girl’s nerves. She waited for a moment before laying her other hand on top of Bucky’s, interlocking her fingers with his.

As much as he might’ve angered her, she still found comfort in his presence. Y/n just hoped the two of them would survive the whole ordeal and have another chance to fix things. To be a happy couple again.

• • •

As they stepped out of the boxcar, into the darkness of whatever town they were in, a guard stood there with his rifle pointing at the ground.

Y/n was last to get out, trailing behind Bucky. Behind Y/n, a guard was shouting something she couldn’t understand.

Bucky slowed his pace, waiting for Y/n to catch up before grabbing onto her hand.

“Think our boys did this?”

One of the men was referring to the broken down buildings surrounding them.

Y/n looked around and saw the signs of destruction all around them. Buildings lay in ruins, smoke rising into the sky. The RAF had clearly hit their target hard.

It looked to be recent, as a bunch of people were picking up after belongings that were still intact.

“Looks like it just happened. RAF.” Bucky looked to his right, taking in the sight of the broken down homes and what might have been there before.

“Shit. Brits actually hit something for once.” The man with the injured ankle commented as his friend continued to help him stand.

The guard started shouting again, making everyone pick up the pace.

Bucky tightened his grip on Y/n’s hand as the guard moved up next to her, pointing his rifle to the side of her hip, threatening her.

“All right, all right, all right.” Bucky pulled Y/n closer to him, sticking his palm in front of the guard as they hurried their speed.

As they made their way into the destroyed town, the smell of smoke filled the air, its thickness clouding the sky and the view ahead. The sounds of screaming and crying could be heard from a distance.

To Y/n’s right, she watched as people were moving furniture and other belongings out onto the street from parts of the houses that had walls ripped out.

Bombings.

That was what she did. And now she got to see the aftermath of what her job did.

Y/n never wanted to be responsible for the killing and destruction that occurred. Unfortunately, war was war. There was no choice. That was the kind of guilt that ate away at her most days.

To Bucky’s left, a couple people began staring at them. There was no emotion in their eyes. Just pure hatred and resentment.

Never had Y/n felt more terrible in her life than when she saw a woman carrying her child from out of the rubble. Y/n quickly turned away as the woman started to look her dead in the eyes.

Y/n picked up the pace, trying to avoid the stares of the angry civilians that they would pass by.

“Was ist denn hier los?” What are they doing here? One woman holding what looked to be like a picture frame shouted, getting the other civilians to turn their heads instantly.

“Amerikaner.” Americans. One man with a shovel in hand spat in Y/n’s face as she passed by them. Bucky shot him a dirty look.

“Terror flieger!” Terror flyers! The man shouted at Y/n.

She moved back as he got in her face.

Nobody there was aware that the attack was carried by the British, not the Americans. But to them, it was all the same people and groups working to bomb their country.

The civilians began throwing things, and started gathering around the airmen, leaving them no where to run.

They dragged their shovels along the ground, making their way towards Y/n and the rest of the men.

“Verdammte Amerikaner! Ihr Bastarde!” Damn Americans! You bastards!

A woman ran up to one of the men, attempting to hit him.

The rest of the civilians angrily shouted, encouraging everyone to attack them, calling them traitors and many other insults.

Y/n, Bucky, and the rest of the man kept in a tight circle, not daring to separate.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” One man had his hand in the air, trying to keep civilians from attacking him. But it was no use. They were surrounding them, hungry for revenge.

Bucky pushed Y/n towards the middle of the circle, wanting to keep her from getting harmed.

"Don't move, Y/n!" He shouted desperately as he tried to avoid getting hit himself.

Y/n watched helplessly as the men around her were charged at, hit at, and yelled at by the locals. As for the guards, they just stood and watched.

“Guards! Back up!”

The red faces and pointing fingers of the civilians didn’t stop. There was nowhere to hide or escape. If Y/n dared to break off from the group at that moment, she knew she’d be beaten to death.

A Nazi officer, tall and imposing, emerged from the crowd. He barked orders at the townspeople, his voice cold and commanding. A lower-ranking soldier tried to intervene, to protect the defenseless prisoners, but the officer would have none of it. He pulled the guard away, scolding him.

“Guards! Guards!” One of the airmen cried out, hoping that they would feel some bit of sympathy. But no one came to their defense.

Y/n watched in horror as the officer allowed the townspeople to pick at the fallen prisoners, to taunt and humiliate them. The cruelty of their actions sickened her to the core. She could hear the screams of pain and terror as the other men were subjected to unthinkable horrors.

Y/n could see the fear and desperation in the eyes of the men as they were beaten and kicked mercilessly. The townspeople showed no mercy, their anger and grief fueling their actions.

One civilian took a long piece of wood from the rubble and swung it across one of the men’s faces, causing him to fall to his knees in pain.

Y/n remained close to Bucky, but kept a close eye on any incoming civilians ready to attack her.

As Bucky tried to keep a man from punching one of the airmen, he was quickly pushed against a wall by an older man, who continuously punched him.

“Y/n, get the hell out of here!” Bucky shouted as he finally managed to push the man off of him.

Where could she run? There were people armed with objects that could easily kill her.

Y/n was searching in all directions, unable to find a place to hide.

Just then, a man came running with a knife in hand towards Bucky. Fortunately, he shoved the man onto the ground, dodging the sharp object.

“John!”

Y/n watched helplessly as Bucky got hit in the back with a tall piece of wood.

Standing inches away, a civilian began shouting, nothing Y/n could understand. He was approaching her at a fast rate, a large shovel in hand. Her eyes widened in horror as she tried backing away from the man. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to actually run.

Before she had any time to react, Y/n hit the ground as a man hit her square in the jaw. She clutched her cheek, feeling some blood start to drip from her face.

Despite the pain and despair that consumed her, she fought to stay conscious.

Y/n was still on the ground, dodging the many attempts of the man trying to hit her in the head with a shovel. She eventually kicked his ankle, causing him to fall back. This gave her enough time to get off the ground and run.

At the same time, she watched as two civilians held one of the men, slicing his throat. Y/n felt like she wanted to throw up in her mouth. They watched him bleed out like an animal as he cried out in agony.

As the townspeople had beaten the life out of the men, the officer made his final, chilling decision. He raised his gun and fired at the men who had been beaten repeatedly. The shots rang out in the chaos of the shouting.

Y/n watched in horror as four of the men fell, their bodies limp and lifeless.

The echo of gunshots rang out in the air as Y/n made her way to Bucky, who was on the ground coughing up blood.

“John, are you alright-”

Y/n rushed to Bucky’s side, but not before she was hit in the head by a large object.

The agonizing pain in the back of her head made her wince. As she fell to her knees, she began to feel dizzy and weak.

“Y/n!”

Bucky’s voice was the last thing she heard before eventually falling to the ground in a state of unconsciousness as she felt something knock her to the ground once again.

• • •

Her head pounding, Y/n managed to open her eyes. She thought she was already dead. To believe that she was alive and breathing after the whole encounter with the angry civilians would be impossible to believe.

She wished they would’ve just killed her then. Maybe it would’ve saved her the pain and suffering.

Over the sounds of the metal wheels hauling Y/n and the men, she heard a low voice. She listened closely as a male voice began mumbling.

“Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name,”

As she slightly turned her head to the side, still unable to feel full consciousness, she felt the weight of the bodies lying on top of her.

She didn’t see Bucky, but being almost crushed under the weight of a few airmen wouldn’t help with that. She was weak, hungry, and helpless. If she thought about it, she was technically near death.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven,”

The carriage Y/n was being hauled on came to a stop, allowing her to get a clearer view of the two men in the front.

“For thine is the kingdom and the power-”

Y/n heard the faint sounds of shushing. She couldn’t recognize the voice. It could’ve been another man. It could’ve been one of those two guys at the front.

They began saying something in German, but all Y/n could see was one of the men in the carriage stepping out, moving further into the dark forest. What were they going to do to them?

“And lead us not into temptation,”

The man still in the carriage quickly turned his head as he heard the airman muttering to himself. Y/n quickly closed her eyes, not wanting to appear conscious.

“But deliver us from evil.”

The man shouted in a stern manner to the other man who had accompanied him.

“Our Father-”

Y/n could feel the man jump out of the carriage. The sound of metal scraping didn’t set an easy feeling in her.

“Thy kingdom come-”

Then came the heavy thud of the metal and the splattering of blood all over Y/n’s cheek. Then silence.

Y/n opened her eyes slowly, taking in the sight of the man with a bloodied shovel walking away from the carriage at the request of the other man. He killed that man with a shovel. The nerves still hadn’t settled for Y/n. She didn’t want to die here.

She raised her head carefully, still feeling the immense pain in the back of her skull.

“Y/n? You there?”

Her heart nearly stopped when she heard the familiar voice calling her name.

“John?”

Y/n tried to push the feet of the dead man off her body. She struggled to get him off as she had no energy left to spare.

A thud came from the other side of the carriage. That had to be Bucky, because the others were dead. But she figured she was hallucinating.

With the last bit of might, Y/n shifted to her left, pushing herself onto the muddy ground of the forest. Her vision was still there, but her pain was nowhere near gone.

Y/n winced as she felt the back of her neck, all the way up to her head. Staring at her hand in horror, she could see the crimson liquid staining her fingers.

Looking across the way, Y/n could see the two men shoveling. They were going to bury them here- in the middle of a forest that no one was ever going to find them.

Y/n watched as Bucky glided his body from under the carriage to get close to her.

“Y-you’re alive-“ her hand rose to his cheek.

“Y/n- we need to- we need to run.” Y/n could hear the desperate gasps escaping Bucky’s lips. She had been thinking about doing the same.

“Come on.”

Bucky held his hand out in front of Y/n. She willingly took it and pushed herself up.

The two tried running with everything in them.

After being beaten multiple times, and probably more while they were unconscious, there was no way they would be able to run any further than a mile, Y/n thought.

One of the men started shouting and pointing his finger at them, but to Y/n’s surprise, the men didn’t chase them.

Bucky and Y/n ran, but not as fast as they might’ve been able to on a normal day. They were already panting by the time they reached only a small distance from the carriage. Y/n could already feel her legs giving out from exhaustion.

She noticed that Bucky was starting to lose his balance. They couldn’t keep going. They weren't going to make it in this condition.

“Y/n- we have to keep running -“

Short of breath, Y/n stumbled to the ground, almost bringing Bucky down with her.

“John, I don’t think I can,”

Mustering up the last of his energy, Bucky threw Y/n’s arm around his shoulder, lifting her weak body off the dirt.

We’re going to be ok. We’re not going to die, Bucky told himself.

As Bucky tried to continue with Y/n’s weak body still on his, he felt as the energy slowly left his body. He was so exhausted, and having to carry Y/n was wearing him out even more. The pain in his body was indescribable.

“Y/n, we gotta keep going. Just stay with me.”

“John, just go on. You need to keep going.” Y/n could no longer keep her emotions together as she watched the man she loved become weaker by the second.

“No “Egan” anymore?” Bucky managed to break out into a smile in the midst of all the pain he was experiencing.

“It’s not funny.” Y/n laughed a little, struggling to keep up her stern expression. Even after everything they had witnessed, he could still keep that unserious personality of his.

“John-” Y/n’s eyes closed once again.

“Y/n, please-”

No longer able to stay conscious or awake, Bucky fell to the ground, bringing Y/n with him.

Unable to find the strength to get back up and keep running, Bucky remained still on the dirt.

He could’ve kept going until his body gave out, but he wasn’t willing to leave Y/n behind to suffer whatever torment would await her.

Bucky laid next to Y/n’s frail body, not pulling his hand away from hers. He brought his other hand to her blood stained cheek, caressing it softly.

"I'm sorry, Y/n." Bucky muttered, his words leaving his lips in small, breathless gasps. His eyelids grew heavy until he soon fell into a state of unconsciousness.

#mota #mota fanfic #masters of the air #major john egan #john egan #bucky egan #major john egan x reader #john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader

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sebbianas · 1 year

Text

i have finally sat down and did the math so here’s all the speak now songs and what marauders ship i think of for each and what lyric stands out to me

Mine - wolfstar - braced myself for the goodbye ‘cause that's all I've ever known then you took me by surprise you said, "I'll never leave you alone"

Sparks fly - jegulus - it's just wrong enough to make it feel right

Back to december - jegulus - you gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

Speak now - nobleflower - you wish it was me, you wish it was me dont you

Dear john - lily about snape - you are an expert at “sorry” and keeping lines blurry

Mean - mary’s theme song - someday i’ll be big enough so you cant hit me (her outliving all the people who tormented her)

The story of us - black brothers - this is looking like a contest of who can act like they care less but I liked it better when you were on my side

Never grow up - black brothers/black sisters - I won't let nobody hurt you won't let no one break your heart and even though you want to please, try to never grow up

Enchanted - pandalily - my thoughts will echo your name until i see you again

Better than revenge - rosekiller (in their toxic era) - you might have him but i always get the last word

Innocent - regulus’ theme song - today is never too late to be brand new

Haunted - jegulus - stood there and watched you walk away from everything we had but I still mean every word I said to you

Last Kiss - jegulus - And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe

Long Live - marauders to each other - I had the time of my life with you

Ours - marylily - seems like there's always someone who disapprove they'll judge it like they know about me and you and the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do the jury's out, but my choice is you

Superman - (not marauders but) drarry - And you'll leave, got places to be, and I'll be okay I always forget to tell you, "I love you" I loved you from the very first day

Electric touch - dorlene - all I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life and I want you now, wanna need you forever

When emma falls in love - james’ theme song - when Emma falls apart, it's when she's alone she takes on the pain and bears it on her own cause when Emma falls in love, she's in it for keeps she won't walk away unless she knows she absolutely has to leave

I can see you - jegulus - and I could see you being my addiction you can see me as a secret mission

Castles crumbling - sirius after the prank - power went to my head and I couldn't stop ones I loved tried to help, so I ran them off and here I sit alone behind walls of regret falling down like promises that I never kept

Foolish one - rosekiller - you will say you had the best of intentions and maybe I will finally learn my lesson

Timeless - jily - I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray we'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made and you'll say, "Oh my, we really were timeless"

#marauders #jegulus #wolfstar #marylily #pandalily #dorlene #jily

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st4rgrl4l1f3 · 2 months

Text

Süßes Herz.

König x f!soldier!reader

Fluff!! No smut. :)

TW: Death, blood, König gets hurt, y/n has trauma. If I missed anything please tell me!

German words translated—

Süßes Herz (Sweetheart)

Genosse (Comrade)

Scheiße! (Fuck!)

Hartnäckig (Stubborn)

Ja (Yes)

Mädchen (Woman, girl)

Dankeschön (Thank you)

Nothing in your entire life would ever point to where you are right now. Two years ago, when the war against Russia got worse and worse, you decided that you’d join on a whim. It was stupid of you, you never understood that choice, a girl who has never worked at minimum wage for more than a year, who knew nothing about how war worked, who had never seen death. And you never really quite got used to it.

Your first mission flunked. The battlefield riddled with your teammates bodies, blood soaking the grass, with every step the deep red soaking your pants. It was mortifying. You called in your Captain, the only words you manage to speak,

“Everyone is dead.”

That’s all it took. You were the only one left to get on that helicopter back to the base. Your eyes were wide open, your captain convinced you never blinked. Your hands were covered in the crimson fluid of which belonged to someone else. You didn’t know who.

Waking up without knowing you passed out, a familiar man by the name you know to be “Captain John Price” was looking down at you.

“Big mission for a newcomer, yeah?”

You nodded, the only thing you were able to do. There was so much that you wanted to say, so much that should be said. But you were speechless. Your throat was dry, your heart never seeming to stop beating as if you were a rabbit caught under a predators gaze.

“You’re on our team, Private.”

Your head snaps up to him, believing that he is fibbing.

“Why would I be on the team?”

“You are the only one that survived that battle. The only one who didn’t suffer major injuries. You’ve seen Hell and now Hell lives within you, like me. Like every soldier on this base.”

Your eyes darken, not in hatred, not in fear, no. Your eyes darkened into an emotion stronger than hatred; revenge.

…

Months pass by before you are assigned your first mission. It was with a man named König, whom you’ve never seen, nor met. You figured that if he’s survived this long, what’s one more day? You’ll be safe with him, right?

His huge stature startled you at first. “As big as a mountain” really did describe him; muscular, tall, and a voice that…Calmed you?

“Hey, Genosse! Don’t you worry, we will help you accomplish this mission.” His huge hand lands on your shoulder, heavy weight honestly therapeutic.

You’d nod, looking up at the man, the only person whom has given you any hope for what is to become of you.

…

It was all going well, you’d managed to kill a few enemies, you felt like your heart pounding could be heard from miles away. It was all going well…

“Scheiße!”

You look over your shoulder, König on the ground, a man standing over his body. Why isn’t he getting up? There’s no time. The man has his gun pointed to his head, you had to move quickly. You point your gun, shooting two bullets, one through his neck, another in the face. He dropped like a fly. You look at the man you just killed, trying to regain your thoughts when you hear a pained moan from König.

“Oh, no..König,” You whisper under your breath. “Where did he hit you? Please don’t die. I won’t be able to finish this mission if you—“

“Hey! Newcomer, don’t say things like that,” König’s breath staggers as his blood paints the floor, you follow the puddle up and see he was pierced right through his right thigh. “There’s a first aid in my bag. Grab it, and I’ll take care—“

“No!” You say without thought. You felt as if this bullet he took was your own fault, your mind going back to the field that you’d first started on. “No, I’m helping you.”

“Hartnäckig...fine. I’ll cover you.”

Cutting off some of his pant leg, you first clean the wound.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You say over and over again as he winces and groans.

“It’s okay…do what you have to do.” Covered by his mask, bead of sweat run down his face, down his neck and collecting at his shirt.

Your radio goes to static for a few seconds, your Captain speaking.

“Y/n, König, what’s the holdup? We were supposed to meet at the mansion. Is everything okay?”

“Ja, Captain. A bit of a mix-up. We will be there soon.”

In a hushed but frantic voice, you say, “But you can’t walk!”

“Go without me then, Mädchen.”

You’ve just met this man a few hours ago, but your heart sunk. You can’t do that, can’t take that chance. Your adrenaline rushes, hyperventilating, you shake your head aggressively back and fourth, eyes watering.

“I don’t want you to die.” Is all you could muster as you finished patching him up, few salty tears dripping down your face and soaking onto his pants. No; you were not going to let him die there. You weren’t going to live with that agony over again.

You attempt to lift him, his one leg helping you.

“Y/n, what’re you doing? Leave me—“

“No! I can’t let myself walk away. Put your arm around me, we will get out of this.” You try to hide your tears with fake fearless determination, König seeing through it. He decides not to say anything, and even though the position he’s in sucks and hurts like nothing he’s ever felt before, he can’t help but smile at how you’re trying to convince your own self that he was okay; that your heart wasn’t about to explode out of your chest and your legs weren’t about to cave in under you because of the shear weight of his muscles on you.

…

Getting to that mansion was all that mattered now. Getting König to take one more step, one more step closer to the captain so he could tell you what to do, how to go about this, because you were wrecked. You were so scared, so pumped with adrenaline, so tired that angry, hot tears were running down your face, fear that you’d let König down, that you’d let him die, fear. All there was, was fear…

“Genosse, I can see your tears. Soldiers don’t cry, ja? Keep your pretty head up. I’ll live.”

Like he read your mind, you look up at him, in absolute adoration. Thank you, König. Thank you. Thank you. Is all you could think of saying, even though you were the one saving his ass.

Reaching Captain Price after what seemed like a million-year trip, you pass on König to someone else, shoulders aching and fear no longer an issue. You were beyond yourself. Price clapped a hand on your shoulder,

“You did good, lass.” He gave a determined nod, you doing the same.

…

König is on your mind all day after last night. He was the only person on your mind, worried sick. You paced your small tent, until a nurse comes to your door(?).

“Are you Y/n L/n? Someone has requested you in the infirmar—“

You were gone, sprinting to the infirmary tent; nobody could just walk in there and see an injured friend, you had to be requested. You knew who it was and you knew that you needed to see him.

König has his mask off, for medical purposes. He was a handsome man. You sigh in relief, your heart pounding, your body feels like it’s on cloud nine. Absentmindedly, you hug him, and you hug him tight. Surprised by this, König’s eyes widen, until he hugged you back, warm arms and hands all you can feel as you babble,

“I was so worried! Don’t do that again! I’m so glad you’re okay! Thank you, Lord! Thank you…” You sob.

“Hey, hey, lass. It’s okay, I’m here. I’m alive. Only because of you, Y/n…. Dankeschön.”

You’d look at his leg, patched up properly now. You cupped his face, like a mother to a child.

“Y-You be more careful!”

König smiles, “Okay, Süßes Herz.”

#konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig fluff #cod x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #fluff

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 months

Text

I'm From Brooklyn, Too ~ 161

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

I'M FROM BROOKLYN, TOO MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,186ish

Summary: Y/N lashes out.

Notes: THERE’S A FEW! First, sorry if there were any mistakes I didn’t catch! My puppy, Milo, gets jealous when I’m on the computer. He likes to slam his paws on the keyboard, try to close my laptop, and try to eat my hand. Second, I’m actually really excited for RDJ to play Doom! I know there are various opinions about the casting, but I’m excited. I’d love to hear your views, but please be respectful.

Y/N tried to put her focus on Morgan as Natasha was trying to figure out this new Captain America situation. Both Morgan and Natasha noticed that Y/N’s powers were acting up despite Y/N trying to push away the Captain America problem. Random portals would appear throughout the house, or whatever Y/N was holding would turn to dust. There was also the time when Y/N froze time for a few hours. Natasha had to answer Morgan’s questions about what was happening, since Morgan seemed too scared to go to to her own mother about it.

One week since the new Captain America announcement, Morgan was put to bed so Y/N and Natasha found themselves in the living room with the tv on. They had been up for hours, trying to figure out what to do about the new Captain America.

“I don’t know if there’s anything we can do about this new Captain America,” Natasha said.

“There has to be something,” Y/N retorted. “They can’t do this.”

“They believe they can. It definitely doesn’t help that Sam gave away the shield.”

“The shield wasn’t his to give away. Howard made the shield—or Tony, or whoever made it! It’s not theirs!”

“Y/N, there’s portals behind you.” Y/N took a deep breath and the portals closed. “Your emotions are controlling your powers. I thought you had more of a handle on this.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Nat. I’m sorry that in the last six months I’ve watched my husband die, saved the world, and was trapped in Wanda’s fake reality. And let’s not forget that my brother left me and died and his—my—our best friend is moving on.” Y/N shook her head angrily. “There’s also the fact that I’m failing as a mother to my child and the two that I adopted because Tony loved them so much!”

“Y/N. Your fists.” Y/N looked to see that her fists were glowing purple. “You need to see a therapist.”

Y/N scoffed. “Why? So that I can be judged for my actions by some unknown stranger?”

“That’s not what a therapist does and you know it. I’ve begun seeing someone and I know that Bucky has.”

“I’m sure Bucky’s is court mandated.”

“And I’m sure, with Rhodey’s help, we can do the same thing to you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a help. You are not in a good mental place, which is understandable. But you cannot be of help to anyone—including Morgan, Peter, and Harley, without getting some help.”

Before Y/N could answer, their attentions turned to the tv, where a high school marching band was playing ‘Star Spangled Man With A Plan’ and the new Captain America was coming out on stage to where a news anchor was waiting. The crowd in the stands of the high school football stadium cheered as an announcer welcomed the new Captain.

“Good morning, America!” The man greeted. The crowd cheered and Y/N felt like she was going to puke.

“Thank you so much for coming,” the anchor said as the man sat down. “This has gotta be fun, though, coming back to your high school after so much as changed?”

“John Walker!” A man shouted from the stands.

John chuckled. “Oh, it’s great.” The crowd cheered again, cutting John off from saying more.

“John, I think the first thing everyone wants to know is what is it like being Captain America?” The anchor asked. “Do eagles fly overhead wherever you go?”

John laughed. “Uh, yes. Yeah, that and flags tend to start majestically waving in the wind.”

“And how’s the tour been? I know they did a big rollout for you, right?”

“It’s the greatest honor of my life. Um, but I’m just a little shocked, I think. How did a guy like me end up here?”

“Oh, wait, wait, wait. ‘A guy like me’? Somebody’s being a bit too humble. For those of you who aren’t familiar with his resume, John Walker, first person in American history to receive three Medals of Honor, ran RS-One missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue.”

Pictures and video clips were shown on the tv of what the anchor was talking about. Including a video of him practicing with the shield. Y/N’s hands began to glow purple.

“The government did a study of your body at MIT, and you tested off the charts in every measurable category,” the anchor continued.“Speed, endurance, intelligence—“

“Look, here’s the thing, uh, I’m not Tony Stark, I’m not Dr. Banner, okay?” John interrupted. “I don’t have the flashiest gadgets, I don’t have super strength. But what I do have is guts. Something Captain America always had, always needs to have, and I’m gonna need every ounce of it. Because I got big shoes to fill.”

“Did you know Steve Rogers?”

“I was two years out of West Point when Steve came back on the scene. I followed his career very closely as an Avenger. I like to think that I modeled my work after his.”

“So, you’ve always wanted to be a hero?”

“I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.”

Before Y/N could even think, she was rushing through a portal to where John was answering questions. Natasha called out for her but the portal shut between them.

“A brother?” Y/N’s voice wickedly echoed through the stadium as she climbed up the steps of the stage. The crowd grew eerily quiet as wisps of her power floated around Y/N. “He feels like a brother to you?”

John was quick to stand up. “Y/N. It’s an honor—“

“You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. You are a false Captain America. You will never be what Steve was.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere private and talk—“

“Maybe you should have thought about this before you pranced around the country. Maybe even before you said yes to this position. A position that wasn’t even yours to take.” Y/N’s hands grew brighter with her anger. “That shield is not yours. You do not deserve the history or the weight behind it. You’re done here.”

With a snap of her fingers, Y/N set the camera’s on fire. The crowd began screaming and rushing out of the stadium. John held his ground, though Y/N could sense that he was growing more terrified by the second. In a flash, Y/N was standing centimeters away from John.

“The shield is property of my family,” Y/N’s whisper was terrifying. “I will get it back unless you want to do the right thing.”

“I am Captain America.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” A darkness found Y/N’s eyes that terrified John to his core. “I will have that shield and you will not be Captain America. I will make sure of it.”

~~~

Rhodey threw down the magazines with an anger that Y/N had never seen before. The headlines were on the same: Y/N ROGERS-STARK GONE CRAZY! The articles were all similar as well. How dangerous Y/N’s powers were. How she should be locked up.

“I thought you had it under control,” Rhodey’s tone meant that there was no room for lies.

“I do have it under control,” Y/N replied. She was looking down at her hands, unable to meet the gazes of those staring at her.

Natasha, Pepper, and Rhodey were all standing on the other side of the dining room table. Happy was outside, keeping Morgan busy. The Secret Service was stationed inside and outside the house, keeping Y/N and Rhodey in their sights.

“This doesn’t look that way!” Rhodey continued. “They want me to lock you up in Raft! Raft, Y/N! No Morgan, no Peter, no Harley.”

“I have it under control. I just— I lost my temper. It won’t happen again.”

Rhodey scoffed. “Too late, Y/N. The whole world saw you and your powers. They know that you have the power of the Stones and they are calling for action.”

“I can fix this.”

“How?”

“Let me talk to Sam. Sam is meant to be Captain America.”

“That’s not fixing it.”

“Y/N,” Pepper finally spoke up, “there is something you can do to help this. It’s a failsafe that Tony came up with.”

“No!” Natasha was quick to answer. “Tony only created those for life threatening situations. This is not life threatening.”

“The people don’t see it that way,”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N finally looked up at all of them.

Natasha sighed. “Back when your powers were emerging and our knowledge of the Stones began to grow, Tony noticed the toll it was taking on you,” she explained. “He created a device to control your powers.”

“What?” Y/N was devastated to think that Tony might have been scared of her and that he created something to protect everyone from her.

“Tony created it as a protection for you more than from you. The Stones were taking so much of your strength each time you used powers. He was worried that one day it would be too much and that they would fully control you.”

“He— you all knew?”

“It was a backup,” Rhodey added. “He gave us access to it before the mission to retrieve the Stones.”

A part of Y/N felt betrayed, while another understood the concern surrounding her abilities. “What are they? How do they work?”

“FRIDAY, pull up project ALWAYS.”

A hologram appeared above the table. Two bracelets spun around in it as well as a video. Y/N kept her eyes on the video, an image of Tony already showing.

“We’ll leave you to watch this alone,” Pepper said as they all left the room.

Y/N stared at the hologram. She couldn’t get herself to play the video. Tony would be so disappointed in her, and she couldn’t handle that. Not now.

“Would you like me to play the video?” FRIDAY asked.

Y/N swallowed down some of her emotion before responding quietly, “Yes.”

Tony’s image took over the hologram. His eyes bore into Y/N’s like he was actually there. Images of Tony’s last moments played through Y/N’s mind.

“Hey, honey,” Tony’s words brought her out of her thoughts. “If you’re seeing this, then something has happened where I couldn’t be there for you, and your powers overtook you… I am sorry that I couldn’t be there myself to help you go through whatever you are going through. I hate myself for it.” Y/N began to cry.

“Before I continue, I want you to know that I made these bracelets to protect you,” Tony continued. “I didn’t make them because I was scared of you or to protect others from you, but to protect you. Your powers… I have watched them take more and more from you as the years go on. I know that you don’t have them as I speak, but bringing the Stones back will do something; I know it. You will have them and have to do your best to control your power before it controls you.”

“This bracelets were made out of materials that once harnessed the Stones,” Tony explained. “I was able to get scraps here and there. There’s also an updated grade of whatever SHIELD made their detention cells out of. The bracelets were never tested, but many simulations were run. The bracelets are controlled by FRIDAY. FRIDAY has the ability to turn them on and off by command. Your voice is the only command she won’t listen to unless it’s an absolute emergency.”

“Y/N… I love you… Always.”

Tony’s image disappeared, and Y/N wiped away her tears as he tried not to break out into sobs. Natasha was the first one back in the room.

“Y/N…” a whisper fell from her lips. She came over and sat beside her friend. Natasha grabbed one of Y/N’s hands.

“How… how could he love me so much… he knew… deep down, he knew that it would always be Bucky for me,” Y/N was going to break. “Yet… yet he continues to amaze me, even after death.”

“Tony also wanted what was best for you, no matter what.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll wear the bracelets.”

~~~

The bracelets felt heavy on Y/N’s wrists, despite knowing they were lighter than most. Everyone had left after Y/N recorded an apology video. She hated that she had to do that, especially since she meant the threats she made to the false Captain America. Currently, it was dark outside. Morgan was asleep in bed, and Y/N sat on the porch, staring at the water. The peace was interrupted by her phone buzzing. She answered it before even looking at who was calling.

“Hello?” She answered.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky’s voice rang out through the phone. “How are you?”

next chapter >

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