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cacoetheswriting · 3 months

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honesty: the music video

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.

“We want it to be sexy.”

“But not too sexy.”

“Revealing.”

“But not too revealing.”

“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.

You stifle a giggle.

“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”

“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”

At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.

Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.

All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.

A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?

Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre.

Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours.

The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.

Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets.

Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.

Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.

Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story.

Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.

Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.

By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.

Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…

Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.

A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in.

“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.”

“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”

Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing.

“I had fun today.”.

“Me too.”

There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly.

Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw.

“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.

Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well.

His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.

The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.

He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.

“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.

In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.

Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open.

“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”

You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”

“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.

Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap.

Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length.

“Where do you want me baby?”

“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.”

Slap. Slap. Against your thigh.

“Please, Eddie.”

Slap.

“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”

That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.

His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.

Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.

“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”

“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.

Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.

celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference

& the celebrity skin. taglist: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills - (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

#this one is a little self indulgent ngl #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson filth #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #celebrity skin.

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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 month

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Chapter one: The Day the Americans Came

Harry Crosby x Maggie Reid / Ken Lemmons x Maggie Reid

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: Maggie has never been one for love and romance, choosing to concentrate on the job at hand and to play her part in the war effort. When the Americans descend on Thorpe Abbotts Maggie and the Lancaster bomber crews are less than pleased, until she meets a Navigator and a Flight Chief.

Collab with @georgieluz

Maggie Reid Archie Sullivan

June 27th 1943, 11:00, Thorpe Abbotts AAF base

Looking down at her left hand, Maggie sighed. Another letter had arrived from her mother asking when she was finally going to give up this ‘folly’ and go home to get married. For some reason her mother didn’t agree with her participation in the war effort, and despite her endless lectures on how proud she was of Maggie’s sister for joining the Army Nursing Corps, joining the Woman’s Auxiliary Air Force and working predominantly as ground crew wasn’t good enough. ‘It’s not women’s work,’ was her main retaliating comment.

While her sister's ring finger adorned a silver ring, an oval cut diamond that caught the light perfectly, and with a Major on her arm to suit her perfect lifestyle, Maggie did not. Her left hand was currently wrapped in a bandage to cover the large gash she had earned yesterday whilst trying to rivet a new sheet onto the damaged Lancaster Bomber.

Grumbling, she climbed down the ladder, placing her hammer into the toolbox on the floor and wiping her brow with her red handkerchief. June, her little spaniel, was tucked up asleep by the wheels, snoozing contently in the warm, summer sun. Every now and again she would whimper, her legs twitching and Maggie hoped she was dreaming of chasing rabbits.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie caught a blue figure striding towards her, and the skip in his step indicated that it was none other than the bane of her existence and one of her best friend, Archie Sullivan.

“Good morning Love, and how are we doing on this fine morning?”

Maggie huffed, “Just fine, no thanks to you and your flying antics. How is it you manage to damage this plane every time she leaves my sight?”

Archie looked up, cocking his left eyebrow at her, “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to darling June here, wasn’t I girl?” The blue roan cocker spaniel quickly emerged from beneath the plane, her tail wagging frantically as she jumped onto the pilots lap, licking under his chin in an affectionate greeting.

Of course he was talking to the dog. Nearly every man in his squadron knew June, but very few even acknowledge Maggie’s existence.

“But on that note, how are you?” Archie stood, brushing his uniform off from the marks that June’s paws had left. He had his signature cocky grin on his lips and Maggie had to fight the urge not to punch him in his ridiculously handsome face on a daily basis. There was just something infuriating about his cockiness which was actually how they became friends in the first place when they’d first met at Duxford over a year ago.

“I’m fine,” she nodded curtly, picking up her toolbox and marching away from the plane, June running along at her heels.

“I take it you got another letter from your mother then,” Archie responded, he sauntered after her, catching up with her easily, only to receive a glare in response.

“How did you guess?” She was partly annoyed that he could read her so well, but thankful that she had someone to talk to. Someone who understood.

“Well, for a start you’re in a foul mood this morning, and you have this little scrunched line on your forehead that you get whenever something has upset you,” Archie noted, giving Maggie a sideways glance and accepting that she wasn’t ready to talk about it. “So… have you got your eyes on any of the new Americans on base?”

Maggie snorted, “They've only been here a few weeks. As if I'd have time for romance when I spend all my time repairing your plane. You’re lucky I like you Archie.”

“It’s not just my plane you’re fixing, there are others too. Eddie and Tom’s plane was in far worse shape last week,” Archie screwed up his face and stuck his tongue out at her, earning a small chuckle. “Well there are plenty of young eligible ground crew now the Yanks have turned up, not to mention pilots and navigators and…”

“Archie, give it a rest will you. God, you sound like my mother.” She stopped herself. Why had she given it away so easily? She didn’t want to talk about her mothers letter and yet somehow she always managed to open up to Archie.

“I see,” Archie rubbed his chin for a moment, his eyes glazed as he debated his next sentence. “How about we head out to Dickleburgh one evening? You could be my wingman.”

Maggie sniggered, “And what does that role entail? I’m not volunteering for anything that hasn’t been fully explained to me.”

Archie rolled his eyes, “It’s very simple. You just have to big me up to any attractive men and help me get in their good books, I can do the rest.”

Maggie thought for a moment, “Well that’s going to be difficult, there’s nothing good to say about you.” Archie shoved her gently and she mocked falling dramatically.

“Pushing a woman, whatever next Archie Sullivan. I’ll have you written up,” she jested playfully, rubbing her arm.

“Yeah, yeah sure you will. Seriously though, please will you come out with me, please,” he begged, clasping his hands together, his bottom lip stuck out.

Sighing Maggie relented, “Okay fine, but only if we can get a lift in a jeep, I’m not walking again.”

“Absolutely, definitely can do that, I promise,” Archie gave her a quick hug, kissing her cheek before hurrying back towards the officers Nissen huts. “You won’t regret this, Maggie. I promise.”

Maggie laughed, “I’m sure I will. Hey, wait a sec. Have you seen my wrench, I can’t find it anywhere?”

Archie shrugged, “Sorry, I haven’t seen it. Maybe try the Yanks, I’m sure they have lots of spare tools.” He waved goodbye quickly, striding back towards his hut where Maggie’s wrench happened to be hidden under his bunk. It was all in good sport, she just needed a gentle nudge sometimes.

June 27th 1943, 16:00, Thorpe Abbotts AAF base

“Hello, I was sent over here to see if you have a wrench I can borrow, mine has wandered off and otherwise I have to go all the way back across base to the store room,” Maggie shielded her eyes from the late afternoon sun, shouting to the seemingly empty Flying Fortress, when several heads appeared out of the windows.

One of the young men was hanging upside down out of the bomb bay doors, a cheeky grin on his face. “Well, hello there ma’am. How can I be of assistance?”

Maggie found herself turning her head sideways as she spoke, “Could I please borrow a wrench?”

The young engineer cocked his eyebrow, blinked a few times before disappearing back into the Fort and jumping down onto the tarmac.

“A wrench you say? I don't know if we have a spare one I’m afraid. Your best bet would probably be to check the store room.”

The young engineer slung the piece of cloth he’d been wiping his hands over his shoulder with a smirk, as he bent down to pat June on the head. The spaniel wagged its tail enthusiastically, jumping to lick the young man’s face. “What does a pretty lady such as yourself need a wrench for anyway?”

Maggie huffed, she should have gone there first rather than tracking across the base and then having to walk back anyway. This was all Archie’s idea, this was the last time she'd be taking any of his advice.

“I'm an engineer with the WAAF. Those Lancasters over there are my babies,” she pointed across the airfield to the dark specs in the distance which resembled the planes.

The young man nodded, an impressed grin on his lips, “Sorry I couldn't be of more help. I can walk across to the store if you’d like, I know it's a fair walk?”

Maggie thought over his offer for a moment. She guessed it would be nice to have some company, although looking at the state of the Fort behind him he was clearly needed here more. It was a nice gesture though and Maggie wiped her hands down her overalls before raising one to greet him. “No, that’s okay. I could use the walk. Thank you…?”

“Oh,” he shook her hand in return, “Sergeant Ken Lemmons, I'm the Flight Chief for the Forts,” he gestured behind him with a proud smile., his wavy locks bouncing as he turned his head.

“I’d never have guessed,” Maggie laughed, amused by their awkward encounter. “I’m Sergeant Maggie Reid. It’s nice to meet you, Sergeant Lemmons, but I should probably start heading back, the long walk and all.”

“Sure thing, it was nice to meet you, Sergeant Reid,” Ken waved her off as she began her long walk back across the base. She waved back halfheartedly, chuckling as the other engineers dropped down from the Fort and began rigging Ken about a girl visiting him. A small smile creeped across her lips as a thought crossed her mind, maybe she would have to visit the American ground crew more often.

June 27th 1943, 17:00, Thorpe Abbotts AAF base

When she finally reached the building on the other side of the base, Maggie hurried down the corridor to the storeroom, hoping that she could get back out to the Lancaster before it got too dark. The corridor was narrow and she took a sharp turn, away from the briefing rooms that were buzzing with life behind her.

She often wondered what it would have been like to be an ‘ops room girl’, wearing her RAF blues every day, her hair curled and pinned neatly and not to constantly smell of engine oil.

Her mind began wandering to the cheeky smile Ken Lemmons had sent her way, when a body flew into the side of her causing her to collide against the wall and fall against the hard, wooden floor.

“I am so sorry miss, are you alright?” A worried face appeared above her, his forehead creased with concern. He was clad in a leather flying jacket and Mae West, with several maps rolled up under his arm, and his brown locks falling onto his forehead as he bent forward.

“Yeah I’m fine, no thanks to you,” she snapped, taking his outstretched hand and pulling herself up. “You dropped this.” She thrust the fallen snow globe into his palm with a weak smile.

“Oh thank God. Bubbles would have killed me if it had smashed,” he clutched the globe against his chest with a sigh, the small pieces of artificial snow drifting down to the flamingos inside once more.

Maggie looked at him quizzically, “Bubbles? What kind of a name is that?” She’d heard of some funny nicknames from the RAF pilots but ‘Bubbles’ was something else.

The young man smiled, looking down at the snow globe in his hand with a chuckle, “No, his real name is Joseph. Bubbles is just his nickname.”

Maggie rolled her eyes with a smile, “Well I’d hoped that wasn’t the name his mother gave him.”

The pair chuckled and the young man stretched out his hand, “Harry Crosby, I’m a navigator with the 100th.”

Maggie took Harry’s hand, shaking it slowly, “Crosby huh? Like Bing?” Harry just laughed, shaking her hand. “Well Harry, I hope you navigate the Forts better than you navigate these corridors.”

Harry nodded sheepishly, “I endeavor to try.”

Maggie nodded slowly, “Maggie Reid, I’m with the WAAF, I’m an engineer for the Lancaster Bomber.”

Harry smiled in response, “Well, it was really nice to meet you, Maggie. I’m in a hell of a hurry but I hope to see you around base sometime,” bundling his papers under his arm clumsily.

Maggie waved Harry off as he began hurrying along the corridor, almost dropping his maps again and he turned, embarrassed to see she was still watching him.

“Sure thing, Harry. Good luck.” Smiling to herself, she picked up her tool belt that had fallen to the ground when she had. Harry Crosby, she had a feeling, was going to be a name that she knew quite well. A loud crash from down the corridor caused her to chuckle. Harry Crosby sure was accident prone.

July 2nd 1943, 18:00, Dicklesburgh

“I can’t believe you’re making me cycle, Archie. You promised me a jeep,” Maggie whined, untangling her dress from the bike chain for the third time in the short ride to Dickleburgh.

“I know I did, but I couldn’t get one. I’m sorry Mags. I’ll do better next time, I promise,” he grinned cheekily over his shoulder at her as she huffed, straightening out her dress. She so rarely wore dresses and the light blue one fitted her perfectly and was her favourite. It now had three black, oily stains up the side of it which she could only pray would come out when she washed it.

The ride to Dickleburgh wasn’t long and they soon came to a halt beside the thatch-roofed pub, propping their bikes against the small, stone wall before following the pathway towards the pub door. Archie pushed the large wooden door inwards, bowing elaborately as he let Maggie go through first. She snorted at his chivalry, it was something that he only seemed to do for her, he was charming but obnoxious and annoying at times, yet Maggie couldn’t imagine her life without him.

Stepping into the bar, the familiar hum of chattering people met them, while a radio played comfortingly in the background. Making their way to their usual table, Maggie flopped down in one of the hard, wooden chairs, a sigh leaving her lips as her exhausted limbs ached.

Archie grinned, “You want your usual?” He already knew what he answer was going to be but he humoured her in case she decided on something different.

“Yes please,” she smiled sweetly at him and he rolled his eyes in return, their normal behaviour towards each other.

“One ginger beer coming up,” Archie sauntered towards the bar, grinning widely at the barmaid who battered her eyelashes at him. It always made Maggie laugh at the way women behaved towards Archie, when he had absolutely no intention in following through with his flirting.

Maggie couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped her as Archie rolled his eyes at the barmaid's comment, returning with a ginger beer and a pint in his hands. “Well, that was… interesting,” Archie took a sip from his pint, ignoring the foam moustache that appeared on his top lip.

“You should just tell her that you’re not interested. The poor girl’s been after you for weeks,” Maggie raised an eyebrow at her friend's antics.

“But this way it keeps all the other ladies off my back. You ladies have a code, don’t you? While she’s pursuing me none of the others will bother me.” She had to admit that Archie had a good theory going but sooner or later the poor girl would realise the whole thing was a game, and she wasn’t sure how welcome they would be after that.

The door flying open alerted the pair to the group of Americans who strolled in, their heads held high like they owned the establishment and running their mouths in their usual, less than charming way. She recognised a lot of them, having seen them around base but none of them would know her, no one noticed ground crew, especially not a female one.

A familiar, smiling face caught her eye as she realised that none other than Harry Crosby was with the pilots. Well he is their navigator after all. And another person, who she could only assume was Bubbles, stood beside him. A hard jab in her ribs caused her to turn, glaring at Archie would just glared back at her.

“Who are you starting at? Did you hear anything I just said?”

She’d like to admit that she had heard every word in great detail, but she couldn’t lie as her eyes once again drifted over to Harry.

“Hey Maggie, I’m over here love,” Archie waved his hand over her face and she smacked him away.

“What? What do you want?”

“Nothing,” he sniggered, “You’re just funny when you’re mad.” Maggie huffed, squinting her eyes and her lips set in a thin line. Sometimes she wasn’t sure how she put up with his antics.

As the evening drew on Maggie loosened up, having stolen a few sips from Archie’s beer and denying all evidence. She wasn’t really one for alcohol but occasionally she needed liquid courage, even if she didn’t intend to talk to any of the other pilots.

“I need another drink,” Archie groaned, standing and stretching with elaborate effort before he once more sauntered towards the bar. Maggie shook her head, staring into her ginger beer thoughtfully.

A light tap on her shoulder caused her to jump, elbowing the other person in the ribs. She only realised who it was when the pained face of Harry Crosby was beside her, his hands clutching his ribs.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry,” she jumped up from her seat but Harry just waved her off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he wheezed, “If that's what your elbow can do, I’d hate to see what your left hook is like.” The pair laughed and Maggie encouraged Harry to join her table, having a niggling feeling that Archie would be stuck at the bar for a while.

“So what brings you to Dickleburgh?” Harry asked, adopting Archie’s seat opposite her, a wide smile forming on his handsome features, and Maggie couldn’t help but notice the way his lips turned up at the corners, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“Oh, Archie and I come here all the time,” she motioned towards the RAF pilot at the bar, who was currently in deep conversation with one of the other American pilots.

Harry looked over at Archie, nodding solomley, “Then I shall leave you to enjoy the evening with your beau.” Harry pushed his chair away quickly, cringing as it scraped across the cobbled floor.

“No, wait!” Maggie stood quickly, grasping Harry’s arm, “He’s not my beau, I don’t have a beau. We’re just good friends. He flies one of the Lancasters I look after, I’ve known him for a while.”

Maggie noticed the relieved sigh that left Harry’s lips, but she chose not to mention it, relishing in his company and the two of them easily fell back into conversation.

“Tell me about yourself, Harry Crosby. What’s it like being a navigator?” Maggie smiled at him, watching as Harry’s cheeks blushed a light shade of pink.

“Well, it’s a lot of responsibility. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the right man for the job. I… well I umm suffer from terrible air sickness. I’m not sure how I got through training to be honest. I’m normally okay but then sometimes I get in the air and my stomach flips and up it comes.” They both cringe as poor Harry relived his embarrassment. Maggie realised that Harry was the navigator that her friend Madison, who was a nurse at the base infirmary, was telling her about last week.

“I said too much, I’m sorry,” Harry flapped, his nose growing pinker by the second. He could barely look Maggie in the eye, instead staring daggers at his empty pint glass.

“Please don’t apologise. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’d probably have motion sickness too, I’ve just never been in a plane,” she reached across the table and squeezed Harry’s hand, to which he returned the sentiment.

“I just don’t want to let anyone down,” he mumbled, meeting her eyes. The way he looked at her then reminded Maggie of how June sometimes looked at her when she was waiting for a treat, large brown eyes looking so sorrowful.

“You haven’t let anyone down Harry, in fact I’ve heard you’re the best navigator in the 100th,” Maggie assured him, sending him a winning smile causing his heart to flutter.

“I don’t know about that. Now Bubbles he’s an amazing navigator. He’s one of the best,” he smiled fondly thinking of his best friend.

“I definitely need to meet this infamous ‘Bubbles’. He sounds like a very good friend.” Harry nodded, grinning back at her.

“He’s the best friend a guy could have.”

The pair quickly found common ground, discussing their lives at Thorpe Abbott when a hand suddenly appearing on her shoulder caused Maggie to jump as Archie’s smiling face appeared beside her.

“Hello, hello. Who do we have here?” Archie dropped down in the chair between Maggie and Harry, looking between them quickly, grinning like a madman. “You must be Harry Crosby,” he thrust his hand towards Harry who shook it quickly.

“I’m Archie, Archie Sullivan. Lancaster bomber pilot.”

Harry nodded, “Yes I’m Harry Crosby. Umm… navigator, 100th bomb group.”

Maggie watched in disbelief as Archie struck up a conversation with Harry who kept looking awkwardly between Maggie and Archie.

What was Archie playing at?

“Well isn’t this nice and cosy,” Archie remarked, knocking his knee into Maggie’s and winking at her. She just glared back at him, watching as Harry nervously chewed his bottom lip.

“So Harry Crosby, what part of the States are you from?” Archie asked, leaning across towards Harry expectantly.

“Oh umm…” Harry stumbled, “I’m from Iowa. It’s a midwestern state between Missouri and Mississippi. The capital is Des Moines, which is where I’m from.” He finished his ramble, picking up his glass and taking a long, disdainful swig from his warm pint of beer.

“Alright Harry, I didn’t ask for your life history,” Archie joked, earning a sharp kick in the shin from Maggie that had him withering beneath the table.

“So what are your intentions with young Maggie over here?” Archie blurted out, earning another wide-eyed glare from Maggie.

"I'm kidding, I’m kidding. I’m not that bad, I swear,” Archie laughed quietly, taking a sip from his half empty pint. “I’m not Maggie’s keeper.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing and her eyes drifted across the pub to where she noticed the rest of her ground crew were standing. She caught James’ eye and he waved her over.

“I’ll be back,” she promised Harry, sending him a sympathetic smile to which his dark eyes pleaded with her not to leave him alone with Archie. It was alright though, she knew Archie had good intentions and just wanted what was best for her, even if that meant embarrassing her in front of a rather charming American.

She made her way over to the group of her fellow ground crew members, being met with a few cheerful hellos. James, more affectionately known as Jimmy, draped his arm over her shoulder. He was a tall, dark-haired man with a dashing smile, who Maggie had instantly warmed too.

“Who’s the Yank?” He pointed towards Harry who was cringing under Archie’s scrutiny.

Maggie laughed, “He’s a navigator with the 100th. I ran into him earlier and we got talking, now Archie’s giving him the twenty questions.”

“Poor fella,” Jimmy mused, turning his attention back to the other mechanics who were playing darts.

It was strange really how they’d accepted her as one of their own. She was actually higher ranking than all of them and thus they treated her with the utmost respect, unlike some of the pilots. The Lancaster ground crew were a tightly knit group of six people including Maggie who worked tirelessly to keep the planes spick and span and most importantly airworthy.

George tapped Maggie’s shoulder, “Ya fancy a go?” He pointed towards the darts board. George was just nineteen, with all his life ahead of him. He was local to Thorpe Abbott and his family often visited the base, bringing along with them the odd cakes for the rest of his crew.

“Nah,” Maggie shook her head, “Should probably rescue poor Harry from Archie’s interrogation.”

“First name basis with this navigator are we,” Jimmy jested, nudging her side.

“Oh piss off,” she laughed, shoving him in return. Maggie had grown to love the sibling comradery she shared with her fellow mechanics, always enjoying the crude jests and jokes they played on each other.

She made her way back across the pub, following the long wooden beams around to where Harry and Archie were seated and caught the end of their conversation.

“But I’m warning you, Harry. You do anything to hurt her, and I mean anything, and you and I will have a problem. She deserves to be happy and I’m not having some Yank come over here and break her heart.”

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes darting nervously between Archie and the door as if he was keeping his escape route clear.

“I like you Crosby, but she’s my best friend and I’ll always protect her.”

“I admire your devotion to her and I swear that my intentions are pure. I’m no threat and I mean no harm,” Harry quickly assured him, catching Maggie’s eye over Archie’s shoulder and smiling.

“Well then you and I should get on fine,” Archie stood, sending Maggie a winning smile when he noticed her presence. “Don’t worry, Mags, this one’s a keeper.”

Maggie’s face heated up and she sent Harry an apologetic smile, taking the seat Archie had previously occupied. “I’m so sorry about it that…” she began but Harry cut her off.

“You don’t have to apologise, you’re friend’s a nice guy and he’s just looking out for you. I admire your friendship, you both sound a lot like Bubbles and I.”

Maggie grinned back at him, Archie’s friendship truly did mean everything to her, without him her time at Thorpe Abbott would have been more hellish than she could ever know.

“He means well, although he gets on my nerves sometimes,” Maggie rolled her eyes dramatically and Harry laughed, throwing his head back a little. He looked so carefree compared with how distressed he’d looked when she’d first run into him.

The conversation continued to flow easily, Maggie told him about the latest flak damage one of the Lancasters had received while he told her of damage his plane had received on his first combat mission.

Maggie had never heard someone talk so descriptively and vividly about flak fire, of course, she knew what it was but she’d never experienced it herself. She found herself almost becoming emotional at the thought of all those young men under fire. She’d heard the stories from the Battle of Britain in the papers and on the radio, but to hear a first-hand account was so much worse.

“I’m sorry you didn’t need to know all that,” Harry sighed sadly. She wasn’t sure why he felt the need to keep apologising when he hadn’t said too much at all.

“No, no it’s okay. Don’t apologise, Harry, you never have to apologies for talking about things like this. It’s good to get it off your chest,” Maggie reached out, picking up Harry’s hand. “My mother always told me that a problem shared is a problem halved, so if you ever want to talk about it I’m always hear to listen.”

He nodded slowly, a faint smile appearing on his lips. He went to say something else when Archie and an American pilot appeared beside them.

“Hello love birds, how’s your evening going?”

Maggie sighed disdainfully, “It’s going well no thanks to your interruptions Archie.”

He gasped in mock hurt, “I’m so offended. You were meant to be my wingman too and instead, I had to do all the work myself.”

Maggie laughed, her eyes moving to look up at the pilot beside him. He wore a cocky smile, his black moustache twitching as his lips formed a smile. His hands rested on his hips and he gave her his hand.

“Major John Egan, ma’am.”

Maggie shook his hand reluctantly, her eyes leaving Harry’s for only a second, “Maggie Reid, it’s nice to meet you, Sir.”

“Call me John, please,” he assured her before Archie interrupted.

“We’re heading off now, Mags, are you coming? You can bring Harry along too.”

Harry stood from the table quickly, “I should be going anyway. May I walk back with you?”

Maggie’s heart raced a little faster as she nodded quickly, linking her arm through Harry’s, and ignoring the low whistle from Archie behind her.

The small group left the pub, following their way down the dimly lit path and back past the stone wall onto the road. Very little traffic could be found around here at night, the most being the Lancasters on their night missions overhead, and with very few civilians owning cars the roads were dead at night.

Maggie grabbed hold of her bike, pushing it along as she walked beside Harry, Archie and John Egan trailed behind them, engrossed in their own conversation.

Harry was commenting on how bright the stars were above them, there was no cloud cover tonight and they could be seen so brightly against the black backdrop.

“Yeah, they’re real beautiful,” Maggie agreed, “Back ‘ome in Dorset… home,” Maggie corrected herself. She always tried her hardest not to let her accent slip through but she still occasionally dropped her h’s still.

Harry just smiled at her, “You have an unusual accent.”

Maggie shook her head, “Nothin’ unusual about it really. I try not to let it slip too often.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to hide her accent, but when she was surrounded by well spoken RAF pilots and Americans it seemed like she was ‘common’ in some way.

“I like it,” Harry admitted, “It makes you different.”

Harry was the first man to ever like her accent. She’d had plenty of people comment on it before, the RAF pilots in Duxford where she’d been posted before Thorpe Abbott had often come up with choice names for her.

They fell into comfortable silence, arms swinging by their sides and their fingers occasionally touching, brushing against each other but neither wanted to make the first move.

“Why don’t you just do us all a favour and hold hands,” John Egan remarked from behind them, making both of them blush furiously at the Major's words.

Harry fixed his gaze on her, his dark eyes silently asking for permission, to which Maggie nodded and his hand slipped into hers. The action felt safe and familiar, like they’d been holding hands all their lives. Harry’s hand was much larger than hers, enveloping it, as if he meant to protect her from some unknown force.

Archie cleared his throat behind them, Maggie swung around to look at him.

“There’s something I want to show, John,” he motioned to Major Egan beside him, “So we’re going to walk a different way back to base. Harry, be a good chap and walk Maggie home for me would you?”

Maggie resisted the urge to smack Archie, she hated it when people talked about her rather than addressing her. She was quite capable of walking back to base herself, but from the look of Harry’s eager smile she could tell that he also didn’t want the evening to end.

“Of course, it would be my pleasure, Sir.”

Archie nodded, clearly pleased that his evening was going to plan, “Well Mags, I’ll see you in the morning alright. Here let me take the bikes, John can ride yours back to base.”

Maggie passed the bike over to Major Egan who took it gratefully, “I promise you’ll have it back in one piece,” he assured her, although Maggie wasn’t inclined to believe him.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Mags,” Archie added, laughing heartily as he turned away from her.

She went to protest but he was already in deep conversation with Major Egan, pushing the bikes in the opposite direction. She wondered what he so desperately needed to show the Major but with Harry’s hand in hers she barely spared them another thought as they continued down the road back to base.

She wondered what would come of her bicycle in the hands of the infamous John Egan but that would be Archie's problem. He would just owe her a new one.

“So, what’s your family like? Do you have any siblings?” Harry asked, his brown eyes shining in the moonlight, making them look lighter than normal. Maggie felt herself staring at him, admiring the light blush that spread across his pale features under her gaze, the way one loose dark curl fell across his forehead. He was an attractive man and Maggie suddenly felt very aware of their close proximity. She stepped back, pulling Harry along the road.

“My family isn't that interesting really,” Maggie began, hoping that Harry would just ask her another question, but his eyes remained on her and so she continued. “I’m from Poole, it’s a coastal town in Dorset, in the South of England.”

Harry nodded along as she talked. He seemed genuinely interested in what she was saying. No man had ever been this interested other than Archie. She’d had plenty of pilots walk her back to Thorpe Abbott but none of them cared what she had to say. Most only wanted one thing and when they realised they weren't going to get it they lost interest.

“My father is a sheep farmer and my mother is a seamstress. My sister, Daphne, became a nurse to help the war effort. She’s currently stationed in Africa which is where she met her fiancé, he’s some Major or something.”

Maggie wished she could be pleased for her sister but Daphne had always been the wild one. No doubt that this engagement would end in tears. “My parents are very proud of her, me on the other ‘and, well they just don't understand how I've worked with all these pilots and ‘aven't got a ring on my finger.”

She sighed, glancing at Harry who was now staring straight ahead, “Sorry, I’ve said too much.” She ducked her head in embarrassment. Why did she just tell him all that? Harry seemed like a nice young man and she just went blabbing about how no man seemed to want her. ‘Well done Maggie’, she berated herself but Harry just shook his head smiling.

“You didn't say too much, Maggie. I like hearing about your family.” His smile was genuine, he meant what he said and Maggie found herself smiling back at him.

“Now it's your turn,” she laughed, “Tell me all about the Crosby’s.”

“All right,” Harry laughed.

The conversation continued, both of them comparing their families and laughing all the way back to Thorpe Abbott. Maggie found herself wishing the walk was longer, something about talking with Harry Crosby made her feel more alive than she had felt in a long time. Life at Thorpe Abbott had all blurred into one and Maggie found herself going through the motions every day without truly feeling anything. Harry felt like a burst of light, breaking through the dark colds and actually noticing her.

As they neared the Nissen Hut where Maggie was stationed with the other women on base she felt disappointed. Who knew whether Harry would want to see her again after tonight? She hated to think that this would just be one night that she would hold close to her heart every time things got tough.

“This is me,” she motioned to the hut to the left. “I had a real nice time with you, Harry.”

Maggie felt her hand slipping from his and suddenly she felt cold and alone. Harry reached back, taking her hand in his and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“I had a great time too, Maggie. I'd love to do it again, if you'd like to of course,” his cheeks were dusted red before he finished his sentence, his eyes looking down at his shoes.

“I’d like that very much,” with a sudden minute of courage she leant forward, pressing her lips to Harry’s cheek. “Good night, Harry.” The young navigator blushed furiously in the darkness and Maggie’s heart swelled at the shy smile he sent her way.

“Goodnight Maggie.”

From the step of the Nissen hut, Maggie watched as Harry disappeared into the darkness, turning the corner and vanishing from view as if he'd never been there in the first place. However, the feeling of his hand in hers remained, reminding her that it had all been real.

Ken Lemmons watched the whole scene unfold, jealousy biting at his heart as he watched Maggie smile fondly at Harry. Of all people, it had to be Harry. He didn't have a bad bone in his body and he was the most genuine, and kind man Ken had ever met. How could he ever compete with that?

Maggie noticed the lit end of a cigarette glowing orange in the darkness, she couldn't see the figure it belonged to but she knew they were there. She had felt their eyes on her earlier, but she couldn't pinpoint who it was. She opened the door of the hut, letting June out to do her business before bed.

June’s nose was instantly in the air, sniffing around until she bounded across to the stranger. A rather embarrassed Ken Lemmons stumbled into view with the little spaniel attached to his leg.

“You can’t hide from June,” Maggie mused, moving down the steps to greet Ken. “What are you doing lurking in the darkness and with a bunch of flowers no doubt?”

Ken blushed even more, shoving the now wilting flowers behind his back, clearing his throat. “I was waiting for someone.”

“Oh really. Well, Helen, Tatty and Mads are asleep so you've got yourself a long wait, Ken,” Maggie turned around, her bed was calling her now and she had an early start in the morning.

Ken cleared his throat behind her, “I wasn't waiting for any of the other girls. I was waiting for you, I just didn't expect you to come back with Crosby. Thought you'd be with your RAF friend.”

Maggie could hear the disappointment in his voice and turned back to look at him, “You were waiting for me? Why?”

Ken toed the earth with his boot. How was he supposed to explain himself when the likes of Crosby had caught her eye? He was nothing more than a Sergeant and ground crew at that, even though they were the same rank he knew Maggie could do better.

“I saw these flowers and I thought you might like them. I also wanted to make sure you found yourself a wrench because I've got a spare you could have.” He produced the wrench and the drooping flowers from behind his back, watching sadly as one of the heads fell from the flowers.

Something was endearing about the way he stood, his eyes trained on the ground as he offered up the wrench and flowers. It was strange really but it was the grandest gesture a man had ever done for her. Ken shook his head, his curls falling across his forehead.

“This was silly, I'm sure you found a wrench,” he turned away, wandering back towards the direction he’d come from. “Goodnight Maggie,” he bent down, scratching the spaniel's head, “Night June.”

“Wait!” Maggie hurried after him, catching his arm. Ken found his eyes trained on her hand on his arm, his breath hitched as their eyes met.

“There's nothin’ wrong with ‘aving a spare wrench, right?” Her hand reached out, wrapping around the tool and allowing their fingers to brush. “And I do like primroses, they're my favourites actually.” She smiled gently at the young Seargent. “Thank you, Ken.”

Ken thanked his lucky stars that Archie’s information had been correct. He’d have to thank the pilot when he next saw him.

“You're very welcome, Ma’am,” he bowed elaborately and Maggie chuckled.

“Call me Maggie, please.”

“Goodnight Maggie.”

“Night Ken.” She watched in amusement as Ken walked off into the darkness, a newfound skip in his step as he whistled a tune. She hurried back to her hut, June at her heels. She closed the door quietly, turning to see two sets of eyes watching her.

“Did I just see you with Crosby and Lemmons?” Mads blurted out immediately, waggling her finger at Maggie. Mad’s had been one of Maggie’s first friends at Thorpe Abbotts. She was an American nurse from North Caroline with a big personality who took the shy English mechanic under her wing. “I can't believe it's taken you this long to find yourself a man and now you have two.”

Helen agreed, “I didn't even know you were going out with Harry.”

“I wasn't,” Maggie corrected her, “I was out with Archie but he met someone and so Harry offered to walk me home. He was being a gentleman, that’s all.”

Tatty laughed, “A gentleman you say? Well, young Seargent Lemmons has been sitting out there all night waiting to see you. He knocked on our door about 6 O'Clock asking for you. Told him you'd be back late and he chose to wait.”

Maggie blinked, she couldn't quite comprehend what she was being told. “Why on earth would Ken be waiting all that time for me?”

“First name basis are you,” Mads laughed, “I think you'll find that Ken Lemmons has a little soft spot for you Maggie. No man would wait in the dark for five hours if he didn't like you.”

Maggie shook her head, placing the droopy primroses in a glass of water, hoping to revive them as the guilty feeling that she kept him waiting ate away at her. The thought crossed her mind that she’d never mentioned liking Primroses when they had last met, it must have been a lucky guess.

“I’ve only met him once and I don’t think I made that much of an impression.”

“Well, you obviously made some kind of impression, and on Harry Crosby too. Whatever next Maggie, you’ll have a name for yourself,” Mads jested, leaning back against her pillows with a devilish grin.

Maggie sighed, unpinning her hair and stripping off to change for bed. The image of Ken sitting out there all that time waiting for her broke her heart, but the image of his sad face broke it even more.

As she lay in bed thinking of Ken, his face soon morphed into the face of a smiling Harry, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he grinned back at her. She huffed rolling onto her side as Harry’s face morphed into Ken’s, the young Seargent grinned cheekily at her. She rolled over onto her other side and Ken morphed back into Harry Crosby.

Groaning, Maggie sat up in bed, trying not to wake her sleeping friends.

Who would have thought that in one day her life could become so complicated?

She met these men twice yet they seemed to haunt her waking and sleeping thoughts.

What was she supposed to do?

As sleep overtook her mind Maggie relaxed, finally falling into a dreamless sleep where she could escape the confusing feelings of her heart until the morning.

July 3rd 1943, 10:00, Thorpe Abbotts AAF base

Maggie watched as June picked up the pace, hurrying towards the B17 on the handstand in front of them, her little legs carrying her along.

A figure jumped down from the fort, throwing his arms wide as the little spaniel threw herself into him, “Hey June,” he just managed to say as June's tongue came into contact with his face, making him squirm as she washed him.

“That’s how you know she likes you,” Maggie called out and Ken’s head shot up, smiling brightly at her.

“Well I hope all the English girls greet me like this!” He exclaimed, hurrying over to her with June still cradled in his arms.

“Not quite,” she laughed.

“It’s good to see you, I was kind of worried you’d be avoiding me after last night.” Ken’s cheeks blushed a deep red as he remembered the fact that he’d been hidden outside her hut in the dark for hours.

Maggie shook her head, “Not a chance. You’d have to do a lot worse to scare me away, Ken Lemmons.”

Ken chuckled, placing June back on the ground and she hurried off towards where two young boys were sitting by the B17 with a husky.

“Well, that sure is good to know.” Ken’s eyes found hers and the pair instantly looked away, suddenly all too aware of each other's presence.

Maggie wasn’t sure why but any time she was under Ken’s gaze she felt her heart race a little faster. Clearing her throat she looked up, “Who are the two young boys, they look too young to be pilots?”

Ken laughed, enjoying her sarcastic comment, “That’s Billy and Sammy, they live nearby but they spend most of their time on base. They like to help me out with the planes.”

“Two willing workers huh? You can send them my way when you're done with them, those Lancasters could always use an extra pair of hands,” Maggie joked, following Kenny as they began their walk back towards the Fort.

The two boys were sitting on the ground, one with June sitting in his lap while the other stroked the large husky.

“I’ll be sure to tell them that,” Ken grabbed her hand suddenly, causing Maggie to jump. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Maggie followed willingly, enjoying the feeling of her hand clutching Ken’s, “Boys, I’ve got someone I want you to meet. Maggie, this is Sammy, Billy and Meatball the husky.”

Ken pointed at the two boys who looked up quickly, identical smiles on their faces.

“This here is Maggie,” Ken gestured to Maggie and the two boys looked at her suspiciously.

“So you’re Maggie…” one of them began before the other interrupted.

“Are you Ken’s girlfriend?”

Ken’s eyes went wide as he stared at the boys in utter horror but Maggie just laughed, crouching down in front of the boys.

“Not quite,” she glanced back at Ken who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him, “He’s a good lookin’ guy though, right?” She jested and the two boys nodded in agreement, only for Ken’s cheeks to blush even darker.

“Well…” Ken cleared his throat, “I, umm… I should probably get back to work,” he mumbled, picking up his toolbox and trailing off behind the Fort.

Maggie winked at the two boys, before standing up, brushing off her overalls. She walked around the Fort, trailing her fingers along the riveted metal body.

Kenny was fiddling with one of the magnetos, his back turned to Maggie as she approached him.

“I hope I didn’t offend you in any way,” she spoke softly, resting her hand cautiously on his shoulder. He jumped lightly before turning to face her, shaking his head.

“You didn’t say anything wrong, I’m just not who you think I am…” he trailed off with a sigh.

“What do you mean?” Maggie plonked herself down on the frame behind her, observing Kenny as he exhaled slowly. His forehead creased and in that moment Maggie saw he looked far older than his years.

“Maggie,” he began, taking his hands in hers, “I’m not some hotshot pilot, I’ve not got an important job navigating like Harry, I’m not special and I just don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

“Wrong impression about what, Ken? We barely know each other, how could I get the wrong impression of you? You seem like a sweet man, I’d really like to get to know you better,” Maggie paused, squeezing his hand, “And as for the pilot thing, they aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, trust me.”

Ken chuckled, looking up and finally meeting Maggie’s eyes, “So don’t doubt yourself, Ken. I’m ground crew too, and if anything it means that we can spend more time together when the crews are out.”

Ken grinned, “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Exactly, you can see I’m the brains of the operation between Archie and me.”

“Well I’d say you have the brains and the beauty,” Ken replied shyly, biting his lips a little and causing Maggie’s heart to race faster.

“You’re not like other men, Ken Lemmons, and that’s a good thing,” she hopped on the frame, grabbing Ken’s hand, “Come on, we shouldn’t keep your friends waiting.”

As they rounded the nose of the Fort the two boys were wearing expectantly, the two dogs at their sides.

“Are you his girlfriend now?” Sammy asked, grinning widely and pointing at their joined hands.

Ken laughed heartily, “Sammy, the second I get a girlfriend you will be the first to know, I promise.”

This answer seemed to satisfy the young boy who returned to his spot on the grass beside Meatball.

Maggie peeked at Ken, catching his eye with a small smirk. It occurred to Maggie then that maybe this was the start of a beautiful friendship, but as her mind drifted to a certain clumsy navigator with a charming smile she realised things may be more complicated than she first thought.

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @blueberry-ovaries @vera-keller

#beneath the blue sky #maggie reid #ken lemmons #harry crosby #master of the air #mota #mota series

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