#masters of the air x reader
Text
Kiss Me Once Again
Rosie takes you to his apartment for a proper date night away from his family.
Warnings: language, mature content (fingering, oral (m & f receiving), protected PinV penetration) (18+ MINORS DNI)
Word count: 3.4k
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
Masterlist | Read part 1 here! | Read part 2 here!
“Y/N, he’s here!” Jeanie calls through your bedroom door.
“Coming!” You call back, wincing as you nearly stab yourself trying to get your earring in.
The small pearl now securely fastened, you step back to take in your appearance in the mirror, scanning for any glaring issues.
Finding none— your favorite blue dress is wrinkle-free, your hair curled to perfection— you walk out into the living room, the click-clack of your kitten heels announcing your approach.
Rosie stops mid sentence as you enter, eyes wide.
“Wow, sweetheart,” he says softly, scanning you up and down as a smile stretches across his face, “You look gorgeous.”
You feel a flush spread across your cheeks at the compliment.
“Thank you, Robbie.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to stay for dinner, honey?” His mother asks from the kitchen.
“Ma, I’ve been over for dinner every day this week,” Rosie calls good-naturedly, throwing an arm over your shoulders to pull you close, “I haven’t gotten a chance to have a date night with my girl yet.”
“Well, if you need anything— especially for dinner— you know I’m right down the hall,” she reminds him, wiping her hands on her apron as she joins your little group in the living room. She meets your eyes for a moment, a teasing lilt to her voice as she adds “Goodness knows what passes for food in that bachelor pad of yours.”
“I do have food, Ma! Please, I’m a grown man,” he laughs.
“Alright, alright,” his mother says, throwing her hands up in surrender, “You two have fun, okay?”
“Not too much fun!” Jeanie singsongs from the couch.
“Bye Ma, bye Jeanie!” Rosie says, sticking his tongue out at his sister when Mrs. Rosenthal’s back is turned, grinning at you as he sees you try to hide your giggle.
Rosie guides you down the hall to his own apartment, unlocking the door as he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek.
“It’s not much, but…”
He trails off awkwardly as you enter, scanning over the fairly spacious, well-furnished apartment.
“It’s gorgeous, Robbie,” you gush, turning to take in every corner as he closes the door behind him.
You had never been in his apartment before. He had moved during law school and your own life had kept you so busy that time alone at his apartment was out of the question, never mind that your father and brother firmly disallowed it. Then came the Pearl Harbor attack, and your family and Robbie were off to enlist, and his apartment had just… sat here.
He grins, pretty blue eyes crinkling at the corners, “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, letting you take it all in before guiding you over to the kitchen. He throws on a record as the two of you start on dinner, but he swiftly drags you away from where you’re chopping vegetables to twirl you around the kitchen, breathless laughter filling the room as he spins you around in his arms.
What was supposed to be a quick meatloaf turns into an hour of dancing with occasional breaks to cook… and then you end up having to start all over after it ends up burnt.
“Don’t tell Ma,” Rosie pleads as he sheepishly dumps it into the trash, “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” you giggle, pecking his lips as you rummage through his fridge. Luckily, he’d bought far too much for just one meal.
The second attempt goes far better— still plenty of dancing around the kitchen, but you remember to set a timer this time.
Rosie cheers as you pull out the finished meatloaf, helping you plate it and settling on the couch.
You give him a funny look even as you sit next to him, eyes darting from the perfectly good dining table to the couch the two of you are currently sitting on.
“What?” He says, a cheeky grin lighting up his face, “I got used to having you next to me,” referencing your usual seats at Mrs. Rosenthal’s table.
You shake your head, laughing as you lean into him, soft jazz filling the room alongside your soft conversation.
Soon dinner is done— dessert, too— and the two of you have returned to your positions cuddled up on the couch in the living room.
You’re in the middle of a story about one of your coworkers when the familiar feeling of Rosie’s fingers tracing lightly over your thigh makes you pause.
“Well?” He prompts, bright blue eyes wide and curious.
“W-What?”
His brow furrows.
“What happened next?” He asks, the genuine interest in his tone laced with a teasing lilt, “Did she get in trouble?”
“I-I, um…”
He looks at you expectantly, fingers still tracing patterns over your dress.
You eventually remember how to speak.
“She, uh, got a verbal reprimand from our supervisor, but for now she still has a job—”
As you speak, his fingers move under your dress to the inside of your thigh, stopping when you stop talking.
Oh. So that’s what this was.
Cheeky bastard.
“Robbie, please,” you whine softly, attempting to squirm against his fingers.
You stop at the look he gives you however, before it fades into an innocent grin.
“Please what, honey? I’m not doing anything.” He purrs.
You groan internally, begrudgingly continuing to tell him how your coworker was stuck working in the coat check until she could be trusted not to flirt with the customers, if it would only get him to touch you faster.
“— and then her b-boyfriend stopped by— oh, Robbie,” you moan as his fingers finally begin tracing gently over your underwear.
He freezes, and your fingers dig into the cushion you’re sitting on, desperation clouding your mind. If he would just touch you—
“Finish. The story.”
Resisting the urge to buck up into his hand, you haltingly continue the story— her boyfriend walked in and flipped out that his girl was working coat check and didn’t they know who he was, how dare they, etcetera etcetera, concluding with having to break the news that she was flirting regularly with customers and him unceremoniously breaking up with her on the spot— your voice getting faster and more desperate as he circles his fingers around you over your underwear.
“Wait, he broke up with her right there in front of everyone?” He asks, pausing momentarily.
His name escapes your mouth in a half-sob, half-groan. You did what he asked, why wouldn’t he just—
“I’m sorry, honey, I’m sorry,” he says, gently pushing your underwear aside to drag his fingertips through your folds, “That better?”
You only just manage a nod, wriggling as you try to get closer to him, to get his fingers deeper.
His touch remains frustratingly light, however, and he tuts, pulling away slightly.
“Be patient, honey,” he murmurs, brushing a light kiss to your lips, “Lemme take my time. I didn’t get to last time, did I?”
Heat floods your cheeks at the memory of your midnight rendezvous the day he returned home, of trying desperately to be quick and quiet so as not to disturb his family sleeping just down the hall.
But now…
Now his family was in the apartment at the other end of the hall. Well out of earshot.
Rosie grins as he sees the realization dawn on you.
“Now will you be good for me, honey?”
“Yes,” you breathe, and he captures your lips in a heated kiss, his fingers returning to drag teasingly through your folds. You whimper, but try to keep from squirming as best you can, the way his tongue slips into your mouth proving a welcome distraction.
He pulls away slightly, just enough that your noses brush as his darkened blue eyes meet your gaze. You’re about to lean in to connect your lips once more when he slowly slips a finger inside you.
“Rosie—” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut as he pumps slowly in and out of you before adding a second finger.
“Feel good, sweetheart?”
All you can manage is a nod, feeling yourself melt as he quickens his pace.
“You don’t have to be quiet here, remember?” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his thumb drags along where you’ve clamped down on your bottom lip to stifle your moans, “C’mon, honey, lemme hear my girl—”
His fingers brush a soft, spongy spot inside you as his thumb brushes against your clit, and suddenly you’re coming all over his hand with a cry.
Rosie swears softly, eyes wide.
You flush, ready to stammer out an apology as you come down from your high, but Rosie looks utterly enraptured.
“I can’t wait,” he says lowly, gently pulling his soaked fingers out of you, “to see how many times I can make you do that.”
A thrill runs up your spine at his tone, watching rapt as he cleans his fingers of your release.
“I think,” he says after a moment, scanning you up and down, “that you are wearing entirely too many clothes, my love.”
He captures your lips once more, and you groan into his mouth, letting out a giggle as you feel him fumble slightly with the buttons of your dress.
“Need help?”
“Nah, I got it honey.” He murmurs breathlessly, managing to get one, two, three, buttons undone. “Makin’ me work for it, huh?” He chuckles against your lips.
“Well where’s the fun in just letting you take my clothes off?” You laugh, your giggles quickly smothered by his lips once more as he finally gets the last button undone.
You wriggle out of your dress, keeping your lips connected as it’s tossed to a corner of the couch. His hands wander over your bare skin, pulling away to rake his gaze over your body.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, fingers grazing over the edge of your brassiere.
You let out a sigh as he brushes kisses along your jaw, moving down to mouth at the tender skin of your neck. You bury your fingers in his soft curls, Rosie groaning against you as your nails rake along his scalp.
He takes his time with your neck, kissing and sucking and nibbling until your skin is a watercolor of red and purple marks that you’ll need to take pains to hide for the next several days.
“Robbie,” you whine through the haze of pleasure fogging your mind; you can only imagine what your neck looks like after his handiwork, “There’s no way I have enough makeup to cover all this up—”
“I’ll buy you more,” he murmurs distractedly, and you quickly forget your worries as he begins sucking another dark spot onto your skin, his mustache brushing deliciously against the sensitive marks surrounding it.
Marks scattered over your neck and collarbone to his satisfaction, he migrates south, allowing his lips to skim over the tops of your breasts. He unhooks your bra with ease, tossing it over to join your dress in the corner as he drags his hands reverently over you.
A sigh escapes you, your eyes fluttering shut as he mouths over your breasts.
“You’re so soft,” he sighs against you. Butterflies stir to life in your belly at the feeling, breath hitching as your gazes meet as he takes your nipple into his mouth.
“Oh,” you gasp as his tongue swirls around you, his hand cupping your breast as he toys with your other nipple simultaneously, “Oh, Rosie—”
He hums against you before switching sides, making you tighten your grip on his curls at the feeling as he slowly works his way down your body.
You melt against the cushions as his mouth drags down your stomach, skimming along the waistband of your underwear.
“Can I, honey?” He murmurs against you, blue eyes blazing as he meets your gaze, “Wanna taste you, sweet girl.”
A broken moan escapes you, brushing back a stray curl from Rosie’s forehead as you nod frantically.
But he doesn’t move, just keeps those fiery blue eyes locked on yours as he murmurs lowly, “Wanna hear you say it, honey.” Your mind turns to static as he drags his mouth over your underwear, a teasing glint in his eyes as he adds, “Say please.”
Even more heat pools between your thighs at his tone, a whimper escaping you as you ramble “Please, please Robbie, I want you, please—”
With a groan, he rids you of your panties, licking an eager stripe up through your folds. Your hips make a valiant attempt to buck against him, but a hand splayed across your pelvis keeps you firmly in place as he buries his tongue inside you.
An obscene noise escapes you as his thumb comes up to gently circle your clit, fingers white-knuckling his curls.
“Oh fuck, Robbie—”
He hums against you, the vibrations sending delicious shivers throughout your body.
“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he groans softly, licking deep through your folds.
Your whines and gasps join the muffled groans and soft squelches filling the room as Rosie takes his time taking you apart with his tongue.
“Robbie,” you gasp softly, shakily, as the tension builds within you with each stroke of his tongue. “Robbie, ‘m gonna—”
A high-pitched whine escapes you as his thumb quickens its pace around your clit and you feel his lips moving rapidly against you, his voice barely audible from between your legs as filthy praise and encouragement spills from his mouth.
With a cry, you reach your second orgasm of the night, legs shaking as Rosie eagerly laps up your release with a groan.
Your heart stutters in your chest at the look he gives you from between your legs, eyes sparkling and mouth glistening.
“Fuck, you’re perfect, pretty girl,” he mumbles as he kisses his way back up your body. Your breath catches as he captures your lips with his once more, a shiver running through you at the taste of yourself on his tongue.
“Your turn, honey,” you murmur against his lips, and he has just a moment to pull back, looking confused, before you slowly begin unbuttoning his shirt.
His pretty eyes flutter shut as you scatter kisses down his jaw to his neck, his button down and undershirt joining the growing pile of clothes in the corner of the couch.
Your gaze and your hands drag down his body reverently, fingers tracing the silver chain draped around his neck, thumb running over his name stamped on the tags dangling in the middle of his chest.
Rosie still has a bit of a glazed look to his eyes from your ministrations to his neck— pretty purple marks scattered over his skin matching yours— but his gaze snaps down to meet yours as your fingers hook onto the chain and pull him towards you for a kiss.
His lips move greedily against yours, your hands wandering over his body as he hovers over you.
“Honey, I—” he gasps once you break for air, lips brushing yours, his mustache tickling the skin above your top lip. “Bedroom? Please?” He breathes, and you’re unable to hide your eager grin as you breathe a “Yes, please,” in reply.
He clambers off of you and pulls you down the hall to what must be his bedroom. You barely have time to take in the dark blue duvet draped over the bed, covering fluffy pillows, before his hands are gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him.
He dips to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, your hands drifting down his torso to fumble with his belt. You can feel him grinning into the kiss as you swiftly remove it, moving to press kisses down his neck, his chest, his breath hitching with each press of your lips going lower and lower.
He gasps your name as you kneel down, lips skimming along his waistband as you make quick work of his slacks.
“I— fuck, sweetheart, please—” He sighs, a groan escaping him as you palm him through his boxers.
“Be patient, Robbie,” you tease him with the words he’d used earlier, “I didn’t get to do this last time, did I?”
His only response is a soft curse as you brush a kiss through his boxers before freeing his length. A strangled moan escapes him as your thumb swipes over the head of his cock, gathering the beads of moisture collected there before pumping up and down the length of him.
His pretty blue eyes flutter shut, his hand moving to stroke your hair as you press hot, open-mouthed kisses down his shaft, tongue swirling teasingly around his tip before taking him in, your hand pumping around what you can’t fit in your mouth.
His grip on your hair tightens, a strangled gasp falling from his lips as you take him deeper. His moans fill the room as you bob up and down, strained curses tumbling from his lips as you hum around him, looking up through your lashes at the way his head is thrown back, exposing his pretty neck covered with your marks.
“Fuck— shit, sweetheart, hold on,” he pants, tugging gently at your roots until you pull away, breathing heavily. “Almost got carried away and we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet,” he says breathlessly as he pulls you up to standing.
The moan that you let out at the heated look — the pure unfiltered want in his eyes — is stifled by his lips crashing to yours. He walks you backwards until your knees hit the bed, keeping your lips connected as he gently lays you down. He reluctantly breaks the kiss and takes the time to rummage in his nightstand for one of Douglass’s parting gifts, rolling the condom on before climbing to hover over you.
His hands trace reverently along the curves and lines of your body, a soft sigh leaving your lips at the feeling of his calloused fingers on your skin. Rosie pulls away to gaze into your eyes as he lines up at your entrance, your soft please all he needs to slowly press into you.
“Oh God, Robbie—” you moan at the stretch, his breath hitching as your nails dig into his skin.
He hisses out a curse at the feeling, slowly pulling out and thrusting back into you.
It takes him almost no time at all to find the rhythm you like, the one that has you desperately muffling your moans in his neck as he drives into you, that has his nails raking deliciously down his back.
“None of that, Y/N,” he pants, nudging you until you pull back from his neck, “I wanna hear you, honey, wanna hear every sound, c’mon.”
His hips snap determinedly against yours, drawing out a cry of his name as his darkened eyes meet yours, a groan escaping him at each loud moan you let out.
“Just like that, sweetheart,” he gasps, groaning at the feeling of you clenching around him, “Fuck you’re perfect, honey—”
Your whines reach a fever pitch as his thrusts speed up, and before you know it your orgasm is crashing over you like a tidal wave, Rosie’s name falling from your lips in a cry.
A soft curse escapes him at the ecstasy on your face, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he follows suit, spilling into the condom with a shaky moan.
Catching your breath, Rosie drops a sweet kiss to your nose as your eyes meet.
“Sweetheart,” he says breathlessly, “That was…”
“I know,” you giggle, reaching up to brush a curl out of his eyes as you continue softly, “It was perfect.”
His eyes scan over your face tenderly, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss as he slowly pulls out of you, discreetly disposing of the condom in a nearby trash can.
“I’ll be right back sweetheart,” he says with a brush of his lips to your forehead as he slips out of the room, returning with a damp washcloth. He helps clean you up, brushing a kiss to your cheek in apology when you let out a soft hiss at the feeling of the cloth on your still-sensitive core, and soon he’s curling up in his bed, pulling you securely into his arms.
You feel yourself utterly melt into his touch, resting your head on his chest and smiling softly up at him as you fiddle with his dog tags.
“I love you, Robbie,” you whisper, brushing a kiss to his chest, right where his heart is.
He cups your face tenderly, thumb stroking along your cheekbone.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
It’s the last thing you hear before your heavy eyelids flutter shut, his heartbeat a soft lullaby as you drift off to sleep.
#rosie rosenthal x reader#robert rosenthal x reader#rosie rosenthal#robert rosie rosenthal#robert rosenthal#mota#masters of the air#mota x reader#masters of the air x reader#mota fic#my writing
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Callum Turner's curls are my Roman empire ❤️
#callum turner#callum turner x reader#masters of the air imagine#mastersoftheair#masters of the air x reader#major john egan#boys in the boat#the boys in the boat imagines#theseus scamander#joe rantz#joe rantz x reader#theseus scamander imagine#the only boy in new york#frank churchill
436 notes
·
View notes
Text
Navy Blue Ink
part 2
pairing: major john 'bucky' egan x fem! reader
tw: some angst, mentions of death, war, swearing, mentions of alcohol, the usual stuff idk it's sort of fluffy but also not really, both think it's unrequited love/platonic love (they're dumbasses (affectionate)), dogs??
description: when john actually sets it up right.
a/n: yeah idk something possessed me to write this, i was lying in my bathtub this morning and was like yup need to write this ASAP. apologies if john is sort of ooc, i haven't written for him before and i haven't written in a while so yeah! also i have so many requests atm but i decided to ignore all of those to write this so enjoy me procrastinating things i actually have to do. OH and obv this is about the show's characters not the real people. enjoy <3
You sat at your little desk at the edge of your flat, contemplating how to start the letter… again. Pieces of balled up paper lay littered around you. It was almost comedic how much time you had spent trying to write a simple little letter. But it wasn’t that simple was it?
You were writing to your childhood best friend, someone you had basically been in love with your entire life. Major John Egan, Bucky, went off to fight and you were left with a large gaping hole in your life.
Sure, it was horrible when you saw him kissing, dancing and singing to other girls… probably doing more than that. But he always came back to you.
One guarantee that war had was that men don’t always come back.
So you had put off writing letters to him ever since he swung by your house to drop off the address for his next station all that time ago. You were a different person now, you had a job, a flat and a husky you had decided to name Ghost. You were also sadder, war had a way of taking a toll on everyone it touched.
But this morning you had decided not to put it off any longer. The decision came to fruition as you were lying in the bathtub, trying to soak away your sorrows. That was the moment when you said fuck it, got out of the bathtub, grabbed a robe and sat down at your desk.
You took a deep breath and dipped your pen into the navy blue ink pot. Your hand shook slightly as the pen met paper and words started to flow.
A few hours later, you woke up suddenly from a nap and instantly ran over to your desk and quickly scribbled a short note, putting a picture into an envelope and running to post the second letter before it was too late.
John felt a wave of sadness and defeat wash over him when nothing came for him in the mail call. It was stupid. He urged the emotion away and ran a hand through his hair. Be a man. You don’t need a fucking letter.
He watched as Buck leaned against one of the chests of drawers with a stupid smile on his face. Envy seeped through his pores. He wanted that. Whatever Bucky was feeling when he read his letter from Marge.
Fuck this. John needed a glass of strong whiskey right the fuck now. His throat almost ached for that sweet burn.
“Major! I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize these two were for you Bucky.” John’s mouth fell open as he stood up and quickly ambled over to see that there were in fact two letters addressed to him.
“Thanks.”
“Of course, Major.” John delicately took the papers and ignored Buck’s look of confusion as he gingerly cradled the letters to his chest and sat back down on the uncomfortable wooden chair.
There was no mistake that these were for him. Major John Egan was written in careful and delicate cursive, although on one of the letters the name looked more rushed than on the other.
He carefully tore open the first letter, the smell of woodsy perfume suddenly permeated his senses. A perfume he knew well. Y/N.
John could hardly believe it. She actually wrote to him. Nothing for months and then this. He pulled out the cream paper and carefully unfolded it.
Dear Bucky,
Twentieth time is the charm I guess. How are you? I have no idea how you’re supposed to write these things, maybe that’s why it took me so long to write to you.
God, I miss you John. I know that’s so stupid to say but I miss my best friend. I am truly sorry that I didn’t send you a letter sooner. I’m sure you’re missing me terribly as well and I have just been a cruel human being by not sending you letters.
I guess I didn’t send anything because I didn’t know what to say. I finally decided to just write a letter this morning while in the bathtub. No, don’t you dare smirk John it wasn’t like that. My ma might just murder me for being so unladylike but I can’t bring myself to start writing yet another letter that will just end up crumpled on my floor so you are getting the truth and nothing but the truth, Major. So yes I concede I was thinking about you in the bathtub.
Anyways, how's Buck? I remember you telling me about him during your visit so I thought I might mention it. You two seemed to be getting close and I’m glad you have someone out there to support you when I can’t. He can’t take the title of best friend though, that’s reserved for me!
What else? Well… I got a job and a dog! And I moved out. I now live in this tiny little flat (it’s very charming so don’t start scrunching your face up like you always do) and drink endless amounts of coffee. You got me hooked. What can I say?
I don’t know what else to say other than stay safe. I don’t think I could bear it if you died, Bucky. Maybe you already have and I just don’t know, so I’m hoping beyond hope that this letter reaches you. Remember that I love you always, you idiotic man.
Your best friend obviously,
Y/N L/N
John felt his eyes starting to sting. He had been so preoccupied with the war that he had also forgotten to write to her. The girl who had stolen his heart at age six when she threw mud at him when they were playing in the creek. His little angel who had just brought some light back into his life.
A smile twitched on his face, she was still his girl. And she said she loved him! Probably not the way he loved her but still, he would take anything she was willing to give him.
“Bucky?” The rasp of Buck’s voice shook him out of his reverie and he looked up to see his friend looking at him with a question in his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Who’s the letter from?”
“None of your business, Buck.” John says with an easy smirk falling on his face, a little spark in his soul seemed to reignite, he missed you and now at least he knew you missed him too.
“Jesus, come on. Who the hell is writing to you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“John…”
“It’s from Y/N.” Buck’s eyebrows raised in response and John outright laughed at how surprised he looked. “She asked how you are.”
“Y/N? Is she the one-”
“Yes, now shut up. I still have another letter to read.” Buck laughed and raised his arms in defense before turning back to his own letter. He was glad his best friend had that sparkle back in his eyes, it had been missing for too damn long.
John placed the letter back into the envelope and grabbed the hastily addressed one. He was surprised to see that there were two things in this one. Pulling out the letter he quickly read the words before his jaw dropped.
Dear Bucky,
I completely forgot to attach a picture to the last letter, since I’m assuming you want to know what I look like now.
Anyways here is a picture of me and Ghost, the love of my life.
- Y/N
John carefully tipped the letter to the side and out fell a picture into his outstretched hand. And it was you, but also not you. You looked so much older and there was a hint of melancholy in your eyes but there was still that distinct bright smile on your face. Your arms were encased around a large husky with eyes that were almost as blue as Buck’s.
It was wrong but he felt a pang of jealousy. God he wished he was in that dog’s place.
yeah... i'm obsessed with all the men in mota. i think i have a problem
part 2
#masters of the air#john egan#john bucky egan#john egan x reader#john bucky egan x reader#mota#mota fanfic#mota spoilers#buck cleven#gale cleven#harry crosby#bucky egan#masters of the air fic#masters of the air x reader#maria writes
219 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Force of a Curl
Major John ‘Bucky’ Egan was hungover, wet and missing a shoe. Hungover because those boys in the 389th challenged him to a drinking contest, wet because his mother stopped pestering him to take umbrellas when he was twelve years old and missing a shoe because of that damned English mud.
If the boys could see him now, Bucky thought, shaking his head. He could practically hear Curt and Buck’s laugh all the way from the US.
Sighing loudly as the storm increased, the pilot moved to pick up his shoe. But as his fingers brushed the shoe, the Major was shocked to find that the rain had stopped. No, not stopped he amended noticing the umbrella extended above his head.
“Are you alright, Major?” Asked a feminine voice conveying a mixture of concern and thinly veiled amusement.
While he had only been at Thorpe Abbots for two days, John Egan recognized the woman before him. Lieutenant [last name] was a notable figure to many. To most on the base, she was the pretty faced WAC lieutenant included in the upper brass briefings. To Bucky Egan, she was a puzzle he wanted to solve. Though their interactions had been limited to a short introduction and shared proximity during meetings, he already knew she was beautiful, smart, calm and confident. Even when facing the asinine questioning of Colonel Huglin. However, this interaction was offering something entirely new…
Standing to his full height, John ran a hand through his hair. Whether it was because of the rain or self consciousness of being caught in this position by her was something he’d never tell.
“Oh, I’m doing great, Lieutenant. Just enjoying the feeling of the ground.” Shooting her a confident smile despite his sorry state.
“Just with one foot?” Raising an eyebrow, [y/n] struggled to keep the laugh from escaping. “Guess you pilots really do forget what it’s like to be on solid ground. Bit of advice then, try to avoid the puddles. They’re deeper than they seem.” [y/n] teased as the Major moved to rescue his shoe from the mud.
“Oh, why didn’t I think of that?” He responded airly feeling his grasp on the situation slip. With no teasing retort brewing on his mind, the pilot was left feeling mollified by the teasing glint in her gaze.
Raising the umbrella to adjust for the height difference, [y/n] watched transfixed as a stray curl fell in front of his eye. He really was a handsome sight to behold [y/n] mused as his hand brushed hers to take the umbrella from her grasp.
If anyone were to pass by them, the pair offered the illusion of intimacy and familiarity through their shared laughter and proximity. However, an illusion was just an illusion unless perceptions were altered.
“You been here long?” Like in any small town, she had heard of the new Major before she met. His singing alone had reached her ears before she entered the pub two nights prior. Though his voice was loud and brash when singing, the deep Midwestern baritone during conversation was far more pleasing. “I hope you’ve fared better with the mud than I have, Lieutenant ''.
“5 months and yes I have,” [y/n] began before pausing to giggle at a memory, “but two weeks in being here I…” Looking up into those inquisitive cerulean eyes, [y/n] stopped herself from continuing. Clearing her throat, she reminded herself that he wasn’t just any handsome man, he was a Major. And therefore, it was probably best to not inform her superior of some slight trouble that happened to find her. “Nevermind, sir”.
Noticing the tone of professionalism that blended into her dulcet tones, John frowned. He had heard this tone before, it was how she responded to him when he introduced himself and when she spoke during the Brass meetings.
“No, don't give me sir, I don’t want sir. I’m soaked and missing a shoe, rank’s off. Call me Bucky or I’ll even take John.” He liked this version more, because there’s nothing he loved more than someone he could laugh with. Even if it was at his own expense as Bucky Egan wasn’t a man who took himself too seriously.
“Come on, can’t leave me hanging like that. You’ve seen me at my lowest, it’s only fair that you share as well.” He countered, his determination to get her to smile at him again unwavering. To further emphasize his point, he wiggled his sock clad foot hoping to get another laugh.
She could see why many were transfixed by the new Major on the base, he carried himself with a genial ease that was both disarming and charming.
Deciding she might as well dig her own grave, she relented with a sigh. “Two weeks in I got locked in the enlisted men’s mess hall on an unnecessary errand for Colonel Huglin.”
Eyes crinkling in delight, John took in her deadpan delivery that was obviously a pass fake to her underlying embarrassment. “How’d you get out?” John asked in response, knowing it would be a worthwhile story.
“As the metaphor goes, when one door closes another one opens. Namely a window in the back of the kitchen.” She remarked casually as if any rational person’s first idea would be to climb through a window.
Laughing in warm boisterous bursts, Bucky’s gaze was unwavering and full of affection and intrigue.
The implication of his gaze was enough to make any girl flustered, [y/n] included. Deciding to busy herself with pointing in the opposite direction, she hoped to quell the butterflies. “Can I walk you somewhere, Major?”
“How chivalrous of you.” He responded softly, with a matching grin. Watching the rain drops land on her otherwise pristine uniform, he stepped forward. Leaning closer, he was captivated by the teasing curl of her lips.
“Well if being one shoe down and soaked doesn’t make you a damsel in distress then I’m not sure what else would.”
With the way she was smiling at him, he wouldn’t mind being saved by her again, John thought. “Well you got me there. Walk me to my billet kind knight?”
Up until this point in the war, her mindset had firmly been 'loose lips sink ships’. No unnecessary comments or connections or else her heart would be broken. However, watching that damn curl fall across his face, [y/n] knew she had lost this battle. And if she was so easily defeated by Major John Egan then she feared for the poor unsuspecting Germans.
“Lead the way, Fly Boy.”
#john egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#major john egan x reader#john egan imagine#mota x reader#mota fanfic#john egan x female reader#masters of the air imagine#masters of the air x reader
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spilled Drinks
Robert Rosenthal x Reader
Word Count - 1,735
authors note : hello friends, i have never written anything like this before and posted it. i had some free time today and an idea and dreamt this up. it is far from perfect but i hope you enjoy it, nonetheless. thank you!
The muffled yelling of multiple voices was enough to drag Y/N out of the daze she had fallen into. Her workday had started early and ended late leaving her feet and head throbbing - a shower and her bed, more of a cot really, were calling her name. Her venture to the communal showers she shared with her fellow nursing staff was quickly interrupted as Violet and Helen crossed her path.
With a tilt of her head Violet spoke up. “And where do you think you are rushing off to?”
“To shower and get some sleep.” As soon as the final word fell from Y/N’s lips her two friends were quickly shaking their heads in protest.
“You promised! You always say a person is just as good as their word. It will just be for a drink or two and then you can come and get as much sleep as your heart desires. I swear to you.” Violet said, wagging her finger in front of Y/N, like a mother would do a troubled child.
After a brief glare between the two women, Y/N sighed, hung her in defeat, and turned back in the direction of her bunk.
“I don’t even know what to wear to an army base bar. Those men already don’t take us seriously and you think this is gonna make it any better?”
“The more you fight it, the worse it’s gonna be Y/N. Just for once stop living and breathing being a nurse and just be a girl surrounded by a bunch of good looking men.” Hazel spoke up for the first time that night before being met with another glare from Y/N’s direction.
Y/N knew both her friends had a solid point. In the ten months she had been working at Thorpe Abbotts she had never allowed herself a break. She did her best to maintain a positive reputation among the men she treated but her friends, and now even herself, had noticed that the weight of the job had begun to take its toll. A night away from the blood, cries, and medicine couldn’t be all too bad - for her sake.
The August heat was enough to force a light sweat upon the girls as they journeyed from their bunks to the bar. As they stepped inside the building, Hazel quickly pulled her powder from her purse and turned to Y/N blotting away at certain areas of her face.
“You have to talk to at least one man tonight. One. And not someone you’ve treated.” Violet stated and lightly shoved Y/N forward to the bar, shooing with her hand. “Get a drink, enjoy the night.’
“One cosmopolitan, please” Y/N stated after reaching the bar, flashing a smile. She hoped and prayed, as the guy poured away, that the alcohol would be enough to calm the nerves she felt bubbling in her stomach. They only increased as she looked around and spotted Colonels, Captains and Majors. Leaned against the other side of the bar were the now infamous friends, Buck and Bucky. Gale Cleven was nothing but kind and a gentleman but Y/N had overheard talk of a girlfriend back home and John Egan, well, he was John Egan. There was nothing else to say. A few months prior, during a training exercise he wound up hurt and sitting in front of her in the infirmary bay, clutching his elbow with a shit eating grin plastered to his face as she wrapped his arm. Conversation flowed easily with the major but Violet had urged her to speak to someone new.
The bartender brought her from her daze as he placed the drink in front of her and she quickly took a sip. As she pushed back from the bar, she ran directly into a tall frame that had tried to squeeze in beside her, red juice spilling on both of their newly starched clothes.
Before an apology could tumble from her mouth, the man was already grasping her arm to steady her and ushering for his friends to grab a towel from the bar.
“I am so sorry, ma’am. I wasn’t watching where I was going and I ju-” she cut his rambling off
“No, that was all my fault. I was lost in thought and then - oh my god” taking a quick glance down to the tan and brown jacket, her eyes shot open even wider, “your uniform. I can’t believe I got that all over your dress jacket.”
An arm reached between the two of them holding a towel that Y/N quickly grabbed and started dabbing along the man’s chest, steadying herself by grabbing onto his arm.
“This is the first night I ever came out and I just ruined someone’s jacket, oh my god.”
A large hand landed on top of hers, stopping her from continuing her attempts at cleaning up the mess she, well both of them, had made.
“I promise you, ma’am, it was my doing. Let me order you another drink. This ones on me.”
For the first time during this whole encounter, she looked up to the man she had lost her Cosmopolitan to. She was silent as she stood with his hand still over hers, quickly losing her will to deny the drink once her eyes locked with his blue ones, a small smile adorning his face. All she could do was nod. He took a step forward, placing his hand on the small of her back to turn her with him towards the bar.
“A cosmo, right?” he questioned and a small nod was directed his way. “Another cosmo for the lady and whisky, neat, for me please?” The bartender quickly got to work leaving the two strangers standing closely together in silence. The man quietly cleared his throat and stuck out his hand.
“Robert Rosenthal, but most of the guys call me Rosie.” Y/N took his outstretched hand and lightly shook it up and down.
“Y/N Y/L/N”
Robert grabbed the drinks the bartender sat before him and motioned his head towards an empty table across the dance floor.
“Would you like to grab a seat? I think you owe me at least a conversation after this.” he said, looking down at the tan shirt that was now stained slightly pink. A small smile made its way across Y/N’s face.
“It’s the least I could do.”
Robert led the way to the table, nestled in the corner and sat the drinks down. In a swift motion he pulled a seat out and ushered Y/N to take it. As soon as he sat down, a wave of confidence overtook Y/N’s once anxious mind.
“So, Rosie, what is it that you do?” she asked, raising the glass to her lips. She had some worry that the appearance of a woman drinking alcohol would be ‘unladylike’ but all of her care went out the window when she realized with everything she had seen and done, it was the smallest token of appreciation.
“I’m a pilot. I’ve been flying for a while now.”
“Are you any good?” she teased.
“I sure hope. I have learned the hard way making impressions isn't all too easy here. I just embarrassed myself in front of those two majors.” He said, moving his head to the right.
“Buck and Bucky?” he answered with a small nod. “Don’t sweat it, Buck is too nice to make fun of you and Bucky will forget about it in about two hours when the whisky finally hits and his favorite song comes on.” Rosie cracked a smile at her, shaking his head at the thought of the once intimidating major belting out show tunes.
“Thank you, that makes me feel better.”
“Anytime.”
Rosie took a large gulp of his drink and leaned forward on his forearms.
“So, Miss Y/N, how did you wind up here in paradise?”
“I’m a nurse. I’ve been here almost a year. I still don’t know what I'm meant for.” She admitted, lifting her glass to her mouth to slightly hide her face.
“How do you mean?” he quipped.
She took an inhale, taking a moment to carefully collect her words.
“It’s not easy. A lot of these guys come here, make friends with their crewmates and drink and sleep their feelings away. I can’t really blame them. They’re fighting a war for Christ's sake. But, us women, see what comes back. The trauma, the injuries - all of it - and we get sideways looks for drinking a shitty cosmopolitan every once and a while.” she laughed sarcastically as she finished the rest of her drink. “I love helping people but it gets hard.” He nodded, looking down at his own drink and giving it a swirl.
“I never thought of it that way. You ladies get the best and worst of us.”
She sat for a moment, looking at her hands folded in her lap.
“Do you see those two girls over there?”
“By the bar?”
“Mhm. Those are my friends. They have spent the entire ten months we have been here urging me to come out, get away from the bubble I've made for myself and I fought against it until tonight. I thought it would be a disaster. Then I got here and got a drink and told myself it would be fine, only to spill it all over you.”
“Y/N, it's really no bother.”
“I know, because as crazy as it sounds - I am so glad that I did.”
A small crept across Rosie’s face as he sat back in his seat, downing the rest of his whisky.
“And why’s that?”
“Because, it gave me the perfect excuse to talk to you Mr. Rosenthal.” cheeks turning bright red as she directed her eye contact towards him.
“Well then, I’d be a fool not to ask for a dance Mrs. Y/L/N.” standing from his seat and outstretching a hand, which Y/N gladly took.
Together, hand in hand, they walked to the dance floor where Rosie pulled her close. Y/N settled her head on his chest, watching as their feet moved in harmony.
“Oh, and Y/N,” he spoke up with a small smile perched on his lips, leaving her to tilt her head up towards the pilot “, the next round is on you.”
#masters of the air#robert rosenthal#rosie rosenthal#masters of the air imagines#masters of the air x reader#rosie rosenthal x reader#rosie rosenthal imagines#john egan#gale cleven#john egan x reader#gale cleven x reader#bucky egan x reader#buck cleven x reader
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
"John," you called.
"Yes, Baby?" Egan peeked from his book, lowering his gaze on you with a cheeky smile.
"Hey, I'm an officer around here!"
You claimed, trying to look mad to hide your flushed cheeks. Egan found that very cute.
"You called me by my name first. I'm a major around here," he smirked. "Or should I address you with Mrs. Egan?"
#masters of the air#major egan#callum turner#john egan#masters of the air x reader#john egan x reader#masters of the air drabble#masters of the air fandom#masters of the air imagines#bucky egan x reader#bucky egan#masters of the air fanfiction#bucky egan fanfiction#callum turner fanfiction#callum turner imagines#bucky egan imagines#tetrapost mota
278 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Night Before Bucky Leaves for East Anglia (con.)
i guess this isn’t totally a “part 2” since the last one was just the very beginning of this one. enjoy!!!!
(i also definitely do not own the character of bucky)
Pairing: Major John “Bucky” Egan x female reader
Prompt: You and Bucky spend one last (smutty) night together before he leaves for the war. (With some fluff at the end ofc)
Warnings: ⚠️ NSFW, 18+ only ⚠️ unprotected f&m sex, male receiving head, female receiving head
Word count: 3.2k
* * *
“I need you.” Bucky’s big hands inched up my side, touching the seams of my dress. He stared deeply and hungrily into my eyes, and I stared back with the same thoughts. It was the kind of look that could be known exactly what it meant.
He broke the stare and crashed his lips into mine, my mouth perfectly in sync with his. His grip on my waist became tighter as I raised my arms up and messily but tightly wrapped them around his neck. His hand trailed farther and farther down my side, and he gave my ass a tight squeeze, moving down to my thigh. He gripped me and pulled me up and towards him as a signal to straddle him. I jumped and he caught me, my legs wrapped around him with our lips still interlocked. Our kisses were sloppy, yet the most passionate they’d ever been. We needed each other just one last time.
One of his arms held my back, supporting me enough to stay up as his other hand snaked under my dress. His hand caressed my bare thigh, squeezing as if it was his last time touching me. I held onto his strong shoulders, my hand at the nape of his neck. He carried me towards the bed and leaned over, laying me down carefully, his huge frame now hovering over me.
Bucky broke the kiss, pulling his head up and looking into my eyes. We both stared at each other, heavily breathing. My hands moved from his neck to cup his face, my thumbs moving to gently touch under his eyes. I could tell he was trying to etch this moment into his memory. Who knows when the next time we would be together like this would be after he leaves, if at all. It was a thought I pushed into the back of my head as I tried with everything in my power to remember this moment too.
“You want to do this?” he asked, his voice low and husky, yet sweet. I nodded out a yes, still out of breath. He breathed a laugh and smiled. Oh, how perfect he looked. He dipped his head down, resuming our kiss, but this time more tenderly.
His other hand reached under my dress, his arms moving further up towards my waist. His rough hands grazed my ribs as he slowly started pushing up the fabric, a gesture to take it off. I sat myself up and raised my arms, Bucky only breaking the kiss to lift it over me, leaving me in just my bra and underwear. He threw it off to the side and took a moment to look me up and down, an expression of admiration and lust on his face.
A smile twinged on my lips at his clear schoolboy-like astonishment, though he’s seen me like this many times before. Bucky quickly took off his uniform coat and undid his tie, hastily throwing them on the floor at his feet. He leaned back down over me and softly lowered his face into my chest, my hands moving up into his hair. He slowly peppered kisses along my chest and towards my neck, making every hair on my body stand up. A soft moan escaped my mouth as I felt his tongue brush up against my skin. His love bites moved up to my jaw, and then to my mouth, enveloping me back into a now wet kiss.
I felt his hands reach under me, making their way to take off my bra. I arched my back, letting him undo the tight clasp and remove it. I ran my hands down his firm chest and started to undo the buttons of his uniform shirt. When I got to the last ones, Bucky eagerly ripped it off himself, the sound of a lost button landing on the floor. I laughed slightly at his hurry, and I could tell he was smiling against my lips. We really could not wait any longer.
I ran my hands down his torso again, this time bare. I could feel his hard-worked muscles warming under my touch. It was enough to make me need him right at that second. I pulled away from the kiss to admire him, and let my hands make their way down to his pants, where his bulge was apparent, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping them.
Bucky took another look at me, now almost completely naked, and immediately went back to kissing all over my body. He finished my work in taking off his pants as well as his shoes, and moved his hands to my hips while his kisses trailed down to my stomach.
I found my hands planted in his hair again, softly pulling on it, causing a slight moan to come out of him. I knew that he loved it when I did that; it was his weakness. His hands massaged up and down my sides as he continued to inch his face down lower and lower. His kisses made it to my underwear, his hands moving to tease the hem and pull them down ever so slightly. He knew I was now getting sensitive, with his mouth growing closer to my core and my need for him heightening. He was always a tease, but it made the experience all the better.
I looked down at Bucky from my exasperated breaths as he lightly kissed all around my underwear, and now the inside of my thighs. I couldn’t help but moan, my want starting to overtake me. He glanced up at me in between careful kisses, my reactions to his efforts turning him on.
He finally raised his head, and I lifted my legs as he slowly stripped my underwear off, leaving me completely exposed. My heart was racing in anticipation, and it took everything in me not to grab him and tell him I needed him inside of me right now.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he said, carefully examining every inch of my body lovingly as his hands went back to caressing my hips. He placed a slow, gentle kiss on the inside of my thigh before rising up between my legs and over me, us now at eye level again.
“I love you, Bucky” I said, my hands moving to his face, my mind overwhelmed with emotion as we looked into each other’s eyes.
“I love you, y/n, so much,” he said, his expression sincere. He moved to plant a kiss on my forehead, a tender gesture for a short, gentle moment.
He lowered himself again, getting right back into action, his head nearing my already wet center as he knelt down at the edge of the bed, pulling me closer to him by my thighs.
He started kissing nearest to my knee, soon trailing all the way down. Before he could make it to the sweet spot, he gave me one more look, the goosebumps on my body already telling him I was ready.
He finally came down, his mouth moving perfectly against my core. I let out a loud moan at the sudden yet amazing feeling of his kisses now exactly where I wanted them to be.
He kept going, the sensation of his tongue meticulously moving over my clit sending me straight to heaven. His hands were still at my sides, lovingly massaging my ass and legs, only adding more to my pleasure.
My breathing was out of control as I kept making noises signaling my enjoyment, Bucky showing his too. With my fingers tangled in his hair, I pulled again, his eyebrows furrowing as he let out a pleasurable sound. My action only made him go harder into me with his face, his speed picking up and the sensitivity of my clit rising.
“Bucky,” I moaned, my head thrown back in nirvana as I could feel myself already approaching an orgasm, something I know that Bucky wants to save for when he’s really inside of me. He continued to move his tongue up and down harmoniously, my cunt near pulsating.
As if he read my mind, he pulled up suddenly, his head hanging over me as he breathed heavily. I looked at him as my wetness glistened all over his mouth, my heat now exposed to the cold air, more sensitive than ever.
He rose up again over me, kissing me, and I could taste myself on his lips. I was aching down there, and I needed him right now. But, if he was a tease, I was going to be one too, and I know he loved that.
Bucky’s hands came back up to my waist, but I quickly moved my hands to his chest, pushing him to turn over onto his back. He did so, and I adjusted myself to be over him this time. I pulled up from the kiss smiling as I hovered over him. He looked at me with his eyebrows raised in surprise, looking more turned on than ever.
“What do you think you’re doing,” he said in his playful, sexy way of talking. His eyes flickered back and forth lustfully from my eyes to my lips.
“Nothing,” I said, jokingly looking to the side as my hand trailed down his stomach and into the hem of his boxers. He made a joking wincing-in-pleasure expression as his hands rested back on my waist.
“You’re good,” he said, pulling me back down into his lips as I giggled into the kiss, my hand moving out his boxers.
I made out with him for a second longer before moving my kisses down to his jaw, and then his neck, and finally his chest. His hand made its way to my ass to give it a tight grasp before I made my way even lower, now moving myself off the edge of the bed to floor.
On my knees, I started pulling down his boxers, where his erection was practically bursting through already, Bucky unfailing to reach and immediately help me, throwing them off to the side. His length was now fully hard in front of me as I took the base of his cock in my hand, the other resting on his muscled thigh. Bucky moved to prop himself up on his elbows, his eyes filled with anticipation and contempt.
I admired his cock for a second, in all its huge and thickness, before moving slowly to place a kiss on the tip as he watched. I then gathered up the saliva in my mouth and spit on it, now placing the whole head of his cock in my mouth. Bucky’s head immediately threw back in pleasure, a moan managing to surface too.
I slowly bobbed my head up and down, pressing down with my tongue for extra sensation. I could feel his veins and his member pulsating, turning me on more than I already was. I pulled up, spitting on him again and pumping up and down with my hand. I looked up at him as he kept watching, mesmerized.
I went back down on him, this time using my hand to massage the part of him I couldn’t fit in my mouth. I kept going, gradually increasing my speed as his hand gathered up my hair to keep it out of my face. He held the back of my head and grasped onto my hair tightly, as he let out approving moans and curses.
Before he could get too happy, I stopped and pulled his cock out of my mouth, my eyes watery and strings of saliva trailing from my mouth to his head.
He looked down at me like I was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life, which in his mind, was true.
Before I could think another thought, he let go of my hair, leaned over to me, and reached down by my waist, quickly pulling me back up again. His arm wrapped around my back to support me as he swiftly turned himself over top of me in one motion without letting me go.
“Someone’s excited,” I said, our faces only an inch away from each other.
”You have no idea,” he says, immediately kissing me hard and passionately. His hand moved frantically all over my body as I tightly wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders.
Bucky pulled away from the kiss, more out of breath than before, and looked into my eyes again.
“You ready?”
“Yes,” I breathed out, only desperation left in my voice.
His hand moved down, grabbing the base of his cock, and lining it up with my entrance. He looked back up to me, enveloping my lips into a slow and sweet kiss.
I felt his tip slowly push into me; the feeling I've been waiting for all along. I gasped slightly at the touch, our lips disconnecting, his thickness stretching me out as Bucky sighed in satisfaction.
He pushed the rest of himself into me, completely filling me up. We looked back at each other for a moment before kissing again, Bucky then slowly pulling out, and pushing back in.
It was incredibly hard to keep our lips together, only moans able to escape from our mouths. He pumped in and out of me slow at first, his speed now increasing, as I gripped onto his back in sensation. He still had his one arm under me from before, holding me as he fucked me. His other hand rested and squeezed at my thigh.
“Fuck,” he moaned into my mouth, his grip getting tighter around me. I could feel him throbbing inside of me as he hit my g-spot repeatedly, my walls closing in around him. One thrust in particular made me moan louder than ever, throwing my head back in nothing but pure pleasure.
“Yeah, baby, just like that,” he said breathily, egging on my moaning. I whimpered again as his thrusts got faster, his hand moving to my breasts and squeezing. My hands moved into his messy hair, pulling my special move on him.
He breathed out shakily at the action, his head dropping down from where he held it up. He started kissing my shoulder and collarbone messily, my hands still intertwined with his hair.
His movements got sloppier as we kept on, a sign that both of us were nearing our climaxes. He lifted his head up again, breathing out like he was in need of oxygen. My moans got shorter and higher with every perfect push into me, letting him know that I was almost at my end.
“Just keep going for me, baby. Hold on,” he praised, keeping me focused enough so we could let ourselves go at the same time.
His brows furrowed again as he groaned, meaning the feeling was rising up over him. The undeniable tingling sensation approaching in my core caused me to grasp at him, moaning a mess and clawing at his back.
“Bucky,” I yelled desperately as I held him tighter than ever, him doing the same. He planted his hand into the bed to stabilize himself, and I could see the glorious shadows of his huge arm muscles shining with sweat.
His head stayed down as he used all his energy to get his remaining thrusts out, both of us on the brink of orgasm. His last slow pump caused me to unwind completely, moaning wildly into the air and feeling every bit of my walls pulsating around his cock. I felt his cum spill out inside of me, his last groan the loudest.
“Atta girl, that’s it,” he said, talking me through my climax as his own was emerging. He pumped in and out slowly a few more times, riding out our highs until we were too sensitive to function.
We then looked at each other lovingly, Bucky planting one last passionate kiss on my lips before meeting my eyes again and smiling. I smiled back up at him and his perfect face, a small laugh escaping both of us.
He gently pulled out of me, and collapsed on the bed right next to me, and gave the side of my head a kiss.
Once he caught his breath, he hurried over to the bathroom to get a towel for me to clean up. It hit me how hard we went at it when all I could think about was going to sleep.
He came back with a towel and I cleaned myself up as much as I could before stepping into a fresh pair of underwear and getting ready for bed, as did Bucky.
As I turned to get into bed from the dresser, Bucky scooped me up from behind, bridal style, and playfully shoved his face into my neck, making me laugh hard. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled away and gave me a sweet smile.
He stared into my eyes for a second, once again trying to burn every frame of the second into his memory. I remembered that tomorrow, he was going to be gone. He wasn’t going to belong to me anymore; he would belong to war.
I tried not to let my expression show that that was what I was thinking, but it was hard not to assume already in a moment like that.
Bucky breathed a sigh, and kissed me hard once before walking over to the bed and laying me down gently. He got in on the side next to me, and we immediately moved to hold each other tight.
He placed a soft kiss on the top of my head as I burrowed my face into his chest. I tried to remember what he felt like as much as I could as I breathed in his scent till my lungs were full. We were quiet for a second.
“I don’t think you realize how much I’m gonna be thinking about this night everyday while I’m gone,” he says, making us both laugh. I looked back up to him.
“We’ll have plenty more just like it when you come back,” I said jokingly seductive, a smile on my face as I kissed the tip of his nose.
“No Kraut is gonna keep me away from my girl, I’ll promise you that,” he said, smiling while pulling me into a deep kiss. He broke the kiss, looking at me again. “You know, you could send me some dirty letters if you want.”
I gave him a fake slap on the arm as he laughed at his own joke, but I actually wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said still chuckling, making me giggle.
“You just dream about it for now, and I’ll come back to you on that,” I said, his face turning into an expression of delighted surprise.
I giggled at my own advance as Bucky looked admiringly at me, this time gentle and sweet, not lustful. I stared back and placed a long kiss on his forehead.
“Goodnight Bucky,” I said, and then leaned over to his ear, whispering, “I love you.” I moved back down and looked at him, and he gave me a kiss on the cheek, putting his forehead to mine.
“I love you to the moon and back, baby.”
* * *
thx for reading lmk what u wanna read next!!
#john egan#john egan fic#john egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#major john bucky egan#masters of the air fic#masters of the air x reader#masters of the air#callum turner#callum turner fic#callum turner x reader
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love is a mystery | Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal x reader
Word Count: 841
Summary: With Harry’s help, Rosie finds old hobbies and new love in post-war New York.
Warnings: Mentions, of war, implied ptsd and depression, talk of marriage and pregnancy.
Authors Note: I honestly don't know where this idea came from, but I think my brain needed something a bit fluffy after watching all nine episodes of Master of the Air in two days and crying the whole time. [This is based off of the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I have nothing but wholehearted respect for the real life individuals and situations portrayed.]
Read on AO3
In the months following their return stateside, Crosby takes a trip to see Rosie. During a nice casual lunch, he spends far too long dancing around the fact that Rosie is visibly not okay, and eventually suggests that getting back into things he enjoyed before the war will greatly help his readjustment.
Rosie briefly considered placating him with an "I'm fine, really," but he only nods, unable to lie to Crosby.
The truth is Rosie hasn't slept one full night since his first at Thorpe Abbotts and he gladly accepts shaky hands and reddened eyes over the twilight memories of what he saw and those he's lost.
Yet, after a night of particularly bad insomnia, he takes Crosby's words to heart and heads to the library. The pen trembles against Rosie's calloused hand while he fills out the library's card application, but his voice is steady when he asks the pretty librarian for recommendations.
He's too distracted by your shiny, kind eyes to notice how you recognize the distant look in his own. contrarily, You note in your diary that night how you couldn't tell if it was sympathy or his easy charm that made your heart race wildly while suggesting some classics and mysteries that should keep his mind busy.
-
"you need to get out more, Rosie," Crosby states in a letter one day.
It just so happens that during a now routine trip to the library, Rosie notices a half-hidden flier for an Agatha Christie book club pinned to the community board.
A week later—spurred onward once more by Harry's words—he pulls himself out of bed, has a shower and shave, and attends the meeting.
The cracked glass of Rosie's brown leather watch allows him to see he's half an hour late as he ascends up the small steps in front of the building.
Designated meeting room C is quiet and mostly dark as he pulls the handle. He's three solid steps inside the door when the room's sole occupant looks up at him—you, that same librarian with those same eyes.
He barely has half a mind to choose one of the provided refreshments—a cup of black coffee dangerously close to room temperature—before sinking into one of the many empty seats. The weary but logical part of him says that this is a waste of time, but the remnants of his fun-loving side tell him that he's got nothing to lose.
He takes a sip of coffee and sinks further into his seat.
While exchanging kind pleasantries, you retrieve a well loved copy of Why Didn't They Ask Evans? from your envelope handbag. Rosie quickly follows suit and slips his own newly bought but already dog eared book out of his leather coat pocket.
"So you liked it?" you inquire with joyfully clasped hands and a voice filled with breathtaking earnestness. After nearly choking on a hefty drink of coffee and his fluttery nerves, Rosie lets a bashful smile slip past his defenses.
Ninety minutes pass completely uncounted before Rosie steps back out onto the snowy, bustling New York City streets. He quickly shuffles home, tossing his coat and book onto a chair before dropping down onto his bed. He intends to return the items to their rightful place after a short rest, though the book will find a home on his bedside table after he spots your number jotted on the inside corner in loopy, flowing handwriting.
-
Spring is well in bloom when Rosie and Harry see each other again.
Rosie spends the following two days giving the Crosby family a tour of the best sights and eats his hometown has to offer.
Their third evening in town has Crosby swaying his young son to the music flowing through the jazz bar while covertly helping Rosie draft his proposal speech. You and Jean are sat within arms reach, though you both pay the boys no mind as you're fully entranced by the music. The night winds on, and the draft becomes a full, completed speech. They share a coy laugh as Rosie slips the notebook back into his vest pocket, knowing that if all goes right this moment will find its way into Crosby's best man's speech.
In this smoky bar just past dinner time, they both accept that they aren't the same men they were before the war. They’d seen a hell no words could ever describe, and yet the world somehow kept turning. They escape to the bar soon after, where Harry tells him that he'll soon be a father once more. Rosie offers his congratulations and jokes that he won't be far behind. The bar is dim, but Crosby still catches a glimpse of the lighthearted playfulness returning to his friend's eyes.
You and Jean coo and fuss over the baby as the men say their goodbyes. Through an especially tight hug, they make each other a silent promise to keep holding on. If not for who they were before but for who they are—and what they have —now.
#masters of the air#masters of the air x reader#mota#mota fanfic#mota spoilers#rosie rosenthal#rosie rosenthal x reader#masters of the air imagine
93 notes
·
View notes
Text
domestic john brady hcs
(a/n: so.... i went a little insane today and wrote these but hopefully someone else enjoys them! pls send me an ask if u want to chat about brady because he might be ruining my life right now... just a little bit.. also this includes vague mentions of pstd)
lmk if you would like to be on my taglist! @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck @beautifulbluejay
okay starting off... imo john brady is super domestic like he definitely has had a 2.5 kids and a dog, white picket fence fantasy for a good portion of his life <3
and he loves routine... most days you come home to soft jazz music playing and john sitting on the sofa, brows furrowed in concentration as he flips through a book, pipe in his mouth, and the familiarity always makes you feel so warm
john is very loyal... and can definitely be stubborn and determined, but it all stems from a protectiveness over you and the love you two have
yes he can be a bit sassy or snappy especially from others people's perspectives but john is a really great partner
he has a tender side that you see very often but others might not immediately pick up on... i think john is super attentive and caring in his own, analytical way, and that's extended to all the people in his life that he cares about
when you first meet and start dating i do think he is a mess trying to flirt and gets very flustered very easily, especially if you're more confident in your own flirting abilities... but he quickly gains confidence in that area
john is not hugeee into pda
but does like to be touching you in some way, like hand on the small of your back, around your waist, head resting on your shoulders (or vice versa), he loves all of it
john is SO supportive: you want to go to/finish school? go for it! he’s your number one supporter, no matter what stage of life you guys are in
if you're already married and have kids by then, he definitely helps you study after the kids go to sleep
will help make flashcards to study and proofreads over your essays for you
obviously music is a huge part of his life whether he sticks to teaching music after the war or pursuing something different, it’s a huge part of him and loves getting you equally obsessed with it
will most certainly be in a community choir/orchestra of some sort and is so proud of it... loves spotting you in the crowd and having you there to support him
is ever the realist, very practical about settling down after the war, having kids, buying a house, etc... he genuinely enjoys budgeting and ofc couponing... he gets very into it
john really values your opinions and input on all things
i think john's love language is mainly words of affirmation... like okay, yes he can be a little snarky at times but john is extremely thoughtful
he's great at picking up on your emotions and how you're feeling
words of affirmation- complimenting, uplifting, and supporting you is how he communicates that he cares
when john can tell you're upset, he wants and will do anything to solve whatever problem there is and make you feel better
john is really perceptive, like annoyingly so, "what's wrong? are you sure you're okay?" you can't fool him at all
he really prides himself on knowing the people he loves
a big problem solver, will come up with a game plan to tackle whatever you come to him ranting/upset about
john can be fiercely protective, especially after the war- after he's seen so much loss first hand. not even jealousy really and it's never because he doesn't trust you or is possessive, it stems more from how much he loves you and how vulnerable that makes him feel sometimes
is he as impulsive and scrappy as curt or bucky? no but could definitely be pushed to that point and definitely will not let himself be intimidated by some asshole at a bar (referencing a specific event when you were dating back in new york after the war, john does not take lightly to someone trying to upset/scare you refusing to take no for an answer)
he definitely does enjoy you doting on him afterwards, cleaning the nasty bruise and scrape on his jaw/cheek
i think john would for sure enjoy pet names, he loves any symbols or reminders of how close/intimate your relationship is, specifically loves "honey", "dear", or an occasional "darling"
your relationship starts to have some serious old married couple vibes very quickly, like months into dating you?
john is a not so secret romantic
would be annoyingly good at big romantic gestures, is the best at anniversaries
john lovesss and really romanticizes the idea of settling down, knowing someone that deeply, someone else being your person, your soulmate, having children, and having a shared life
he does believe in true love and soulmates and would blush furiously if you were to ask him about it but he'll manage to get it out, barely able to look at you when he's affirming, "yeah i think you're my soulmate. nbd."
wants to know all about you, even the most trivial things i think he would be so interested in learning about
for sure one of those people who's had a list of baby names they've had picked out since childhood
john is a great person to share a life with, he's organized, methodical, responsible, and respectful
would be the sweetest dad, would feel perpetually unprepared and terrified for fatherhood
would always be researching the best foods, products, etc
like not full helicopter parent/soccer mom but he's very involved and always trying to find new experiences for your kids
LOVES planning the annual brady family road trip in the summer when all the kids are out of school and y'all take off work
he always creates such a detailed and efficient route and makes sure to get everyone's input on where they want to go and want to see... that's when he's in his element fr
he would love having a bigger family and knowing each of his children's different personalities and interests
i think he does struggle after the war with ptsd, especially during the winter when it's super cold outside
he has to get out of this initial phase of pushing you away out of not wanting want pity or sympathy
there's embarrassment and shame there and it's hard for him to navigate that and he doesn't want to burden you or others. doesn't want to be fussed over or taken to the doctor like a child, doesn't want to feel broken
for a while he struggles with falling asleep and would always make excuses about coming to bed late, only once you're sleeping, because he's embarrassed about how long it takes for him to fully relax and actually feel safe enough to sleep
it gets better with time... and when john realizes how much he values transparency and vulnerability between the two of you and after you reassure him it's not burdening you or dumping anything on you
might be (is) a lip biter like first time he did it was on accident, he just got very excited but you both quickly discover he lovesss it
i think john is masterfully good at foreplay, especially if we assume he was raised in a good ol' catholic family... yeah he has the foreplay down pat
he's methodical in everything he does... including uh... physical intimacy
john has a lot of self control and he prides himself in that... but he is also soooo sensitive he just thinks it's incredibly unfair
like just running your hands through his hair and scratching his scalp lightly, oh he's meltinggg
john absolutely has to have the perfect music for everything including anything physical... he'll break away from a heated kiss to to flip through vinyls, hunched over the record player while you're lying in bed like... babe... come back pls
a very intense lover like his eye contact, his touch- firm grip, his voice- always lower and quiet, intense in the best way possible
oh and once you're married he loves always mentioning or name dropping "my wife," in conversations
overall... john brady loves being in love! he loves having little inside jokes, petnames, shared memories, etc and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world <3
#john brady x reader#mota x reader#mota headcanons#mota fanfic#john brady headcanons#mota imagine#masters of the air x reader#john brady
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
"She chose me."
"Did she?"
#caption is cringe but let a girl have fun#masters of the air#callum turner#austin butler#bucky egan#buck cleven#mastersoftheair#masters of the air x reader#buck cleven x reader#bucky egan x reader#masters of the air imagines#bucky egan fanfiction
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
Homecoming
John Egan finally makes it home to you
Requested by anon, based on the prompt carrying the other one in their arms
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
“They’ll be here,” Marge said from her place beside you, fussing with the hem of her dress.
She sounded as if she was trying to assure herself as much as you, but you appreciated the sentiment, bumping her shoulder and giving her an encouraging smile and nod in thanks.
Marge had introduced you to John Egan— better known as Bucky— about a week before he shipped out to England, and you had fallen head over heels for him.
Both Marge and Gale had warned you before he left that “John Egan isn’t the penpal type,” but to all of your surprise, Bucky had dutifully written you the moment he arrived on base, and the stream of letters had remained steady for nearly the entire time he’d been away.
Until one day Marge stopped receiving letters from Gale, and Bucky’s letters had stopped shortly after.
The two of you were beside yourselves with worry, until you received word that both of them had ended up as POWs in a German camp; you were both still terrified, but at least you knew they were alive.
Then came May 1945– Germany had officially surrendered, and your boys were coming home.
The flow of letters had resumed shortly after you had received word of Bucky’s capture, but it was slow and irregular despite the Red Cross’s best efforts. You hadn’t seen Bucky for nearly two years, and joy and terror were fighting for dominance in your mind at the thought of standing in front of him again.
The Army had set up you and Marge, as well as the other loved ones waiting for their soldiers to return, in a hotel near the train station where the boys would be arriving. So now here you were in the lobby, waiting anxiously for Buck and Bucky to walk through the doors.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you were only alerted to their entrance by a gasp from Marge, who promptly raced into Gale’s open and waiting arms. You, on the other hand, were frozen, scrambling to process the appearance of one John Egan as his eyes locked on you.
Frankly, it was a blur. One moment you were frozen in place, the next you were racing towards him, Bucky moving to meet you halfway, his arms curling tight around you as you collapsed against him.
“You’re here, you’re here,” was all you could say as you held him tight, a spike of worry running through you when you felt how thin he had become, but he was still warm and real and solid and here, and his voice was thick in your ear as he whispered back. “‘M here, sweetheart, ‘m home.”
He pulled away slightly— it took all of your strength not to clutch him to you again, loath to let him go after so long— and brought up a hand to caress your cheek, blue eyes simply taking you in for a moment.
His gaze kept drifting down to your bright red lips, and at your eager nod once you’d realized what he was waiting for, he swooped down to capture your lips in a long, long overdue kiss.
You couldn’t help but giggle against his lips as you heard Marge cheering at the sight of you two, and the feeling of his returning smile against your own had your heart soaring.
After several long minutes of simply holding each other, making up for lost time, you eventually joined back up with Buck and Marge, giving Gale a joyful welcome-home hug as Marge did the same with Bucky.
The hotel had arranged for a special dinner, and the plan was to head straight there once the reunions had wound down… though you had no idea how anyone could even think of dinner at a time like this.
Bucky’s thoughts seemed to be straying as well, as instead of allowing you to simply curl up next to him on the couch set where you settled with Buck and Marge, he tugged you down into his lap and wrapped his arms firmly around your waist.
Your friends headed over to the dining room before too long, Bucky assuring them that the two of you would catch up.
Those plans soon went out the window entirely, though.
Bucky’s scarred, nimble fingers began tracing patterns over your dress, making your breath hitch.
Your letters to each other had been… well, you wouldn’t want your mother reading certain sections of them, that’s for certain. But the feeling of him pressed against you, holding you tight was an experience no amount of letters could have prepared you for.
His lips brushed your ear, unspeakable implications hidden in such innocent words: “You have your own room here, don’t you, sweetheart?”
Unable to form words as his low rumble sparked heat just below your belly, you nodded, and to this day you have no idea how you didn’t simply melt into a puddle when you felt him grin against you.
His question of “Care to show me?” was met with a similar, more enthusiastic nod, and before you knew it Bucky had swept you up in his arms.
“I— Bucky!” You yelped in surprise as he carried you towards the elevators with surprising ease, “Should you be doing—?”
“What I should be doing—” your concerns for his health were brushed aside with a searing look “— is showing my girl exactly how much I’ve missed her.”
It was a good thing he was carrying you, because every bone in your body turned to jelly at that statement.
Even in the elevator he didn’t put you down, silencing every one of your protests with a kiss until your lipstick was irreparably smudged and the coarse hairs decorating his top lip were tinted a slight red.
You arrived at your floor, and he waited patiently as you unlocked the door from your place in his arms— a task that took much longer than it should have thanks to the major scattering kisses along your neck, as if he had to have his lips on you constantly now that you were more than just words on a page.
You were carried over the threshold bridal-style, and Bucky nudged the door closed with his foot so no one could see how he gently lowered you to the bed, murmuring promises of making up for lost time against your lips.
#john bucky egan#bucky egan#john egan#bucky egan x reader#john egan x reader#john bucky egan x reader#masters of the air#masters of the air x reader#callum turner#callum turner x reader#my writing
449 notes
·
View notes
Text
I can take them (not in a fight)
#mastersoftheair#masters of the air x reader#austin butler#major gale cleven#gale cleven#gale cleven x reader#callum turner#major john egan#john egan#john egan x reader#masters of the air imagine#barry keoghan#curtis biddick#curtis biddick x reader
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
Navy Blue Ink Part 2
part 1
pairing: major john 'bucky' egan x fem! reader
tw: swearing, kissing, fluff, mentions of war and death, historical/military inaccuracies, yh not much else it's pretty sweet
description: john makes it back home to his angel.
a/n: first off, i wanted to say thank you for how nice and incredible this fandom has been and the response to the first part just made me heart burst. i hope this still does john justice and that you enjoy this little reunion fic. once again this is solely based on the show's characters and not the real people!
You stood anxiously at the side of the airfield. A letter clutched in your left hand and a leash in your right. Ghost nudged his head against your pant covered leg, making you look down at your companion.
“I’m alright, boy. Just a bit nervous.” He barked in response and an easy smile fell on your face. After the announcement that war had ended a heavy weight that had been placed on your shoulders seemed to disappear. You had beat those German bastards and now your best friend was coming home.
It was a few weeks before the end of the war that a letter arrived for you. Its date was a few days old but a feeling of euphoria washed through your body when you noticed John’s spiky handwriting.
He was alive.
Dear Y/N,
I don’t think you understand how happy I was to hear from you. I do not know if this letter will reach you or if you will ever read it but I needed to write this. I’m also sorry for not writing for so long and for not getting back to you.
I am alive, somehow. I made it out of a POW camp and I’m back at base. I can’t write about the specifics yet but I needed you to know that I miss you terribly. You were the one light while I was there. You gave me hope when everything was starting to dull to gray, and I don’t know if I can ever repay you.
I don’t know when I’ll be back but you should know that I will be back. God I miss you. I wrote that already didn’t I?
Buck’s fine. A little scraped up, but we all are. He can’t wait to meet you, says I talk too much about you that he basically knows you already. I hope to see you soon again, angel. You better introduce me to the love of your life too, I might need to officiate the wedding… or maybe Ghost needs a best man huh?
Yours,
John Egan
That letter restored a feeling of hope that encompassed your entire body. He was alive. John Egan was alive.
You held onto that feeling for a long while. Keeping the letter tucked into the pocket of your jacket so you could carress the paper when everything was feeling like too much. Until that fateful day when a short telegram was handed to you at work. It was filled with a few words that made your heart beat even faster than you thought it could.
Coming soon. Meet. Airfield. 16.00
So there you stood, at the airfield waiting for your best friend to come back, for the love of your life to come back (sorry Ghost).
You scratched behind Ghost’s ear when a distant noise made you perk up. An airplane. Squinting in the late afternoon soon a distinct shape appeared in the sky. He surely had to be on that plane.
Checking your watch confirmed it, it was 16:05 and he was right on time. Albeit a little late but that was John alright.
You watched with nervous excitement as the plane touched down and stopped near the tower. A group of families were all standing beside you, anxiously awaiting a glimpse of the people they had missed beyond belief.
Standing and waiting as everyone got to hug their loved ones was a special kind of torture. That was until you saw a glimpse of those beautiful brown curls and the face that you had missed so dearly.
“John? John!” The face turned towards you and a delighted grin overtook your face as you started to run towards him, with Ghost right on your heels.
John was beyond tired. The past few weeks had been a time for recovery and yet he didn’t feel like himself quite yet. Who knew if he would ever feel like that again? The plane ride back made him feel like a whole other set of nerves had taken control of his body.
He was about to see his girl, his angel and he had no idea what he would do, or rather if he could control his reaction to her. The photograph she first sent to him in those precious letters was carefully tucked into his jacket pocket and he was itching to get it out and just look at her once again.
Maybe she wasn’t even waiting for him. Maybe she hadn’t gotten his telegram. The one he quickly had someone send out for him after he had said his goodbyes to Buck in Florida. God what if she was busy and he didn’t have her address to find her and-
His barrage of thoughts was cut off when he felt the plane hit the runway. Fuck, it’s time. Once he was given the all clear, he quickly gathered his full belongings and started to set out of the plane.
John felt the familiar smell of Wisconsin fill his nose. Home. It smelt like home. The airfield was lit in the glow of the sun and John felt alright for the first time in a while. He was safe.
“John? John!” The sweet sound of a voice so familiar was calling to him. Just as he turned John felt arms encase him and you were suddenly all around him.
He let himself just feel for a few moments before he dropped his bags and hugged you right back just as strongly. What he wouldn’t do to stay in your arms for the rest of his life. To feel your warmth surrounding him and never letting him go.
“Angel? God, I think I might be in heaven.” John whispered into your ear, making a tearful laugh come from your mouth as you let your arms drop from around him. Finally getting a proper look at your Bucky.
“Heaven? Nah, you’re in good old Wisconsin, Bucky.”
“I think that’s my version of heaven right now, darling.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I missed you John.” You whispered as you looked at him. You noticed how he had changed, how he had hardened but he was still the man you fell in love with, even if he didn’t know it.
“I guarantee that I missed you more.”
“Oh really?” John hummed back in agreement as he also took his time to take you in. Take in the little changes in your face, the way your eyes shined as you looked at him and the smile on your face. The most beautiful smile he had ever seen.
“I really love you.” John whispered, pouring his entire being, his entire soul into those words. Your eyes widened, this felt different from all those times when he had uttered it drunk into your ears as kids. This felt like something more. Something you had waited to hear for far too long.
John felt something in him shatter as he watched different emotions flash over your face. He made a mistake. He should have stayed quiet and just hugged you. Just been there for you.
“I love you too, John Egan. I love you more than you can imagine.”
That thing that shattered within John seemed to remake itself. Like a wound stitching itself back together. He stepped impossibly closer to you and brushed his lips hesitantly over yours, warmth blooming in both of your chests as the hesitant pressure became more stronger and more assured.
What you both didn’t account for was the loud bark that came from behind you. The two of you broke apart and John looked over to Ghost with a chuckle. The damn dog he wished to be all those months ago was standing before him looking mighty pleased with himself.
“So the famous love of your life?”
“Shut up, John. You know there is only one man worthy of that title.”
“And who would that be?”
“You, you stupid, beautiful man.”
and... that's the end wow. i'll probably write some more stuff for mota so look out for that <3
#masters of the air#john egan#john bucky egan#john egan x reader#john bucky egan x reader#mota#mota fanfic#mota spoilers#buck cleven#gale cleven#harry crosby#bucky egan#masters of the air fic#masters of the air x reader#maria writes
159 notes
·
View notes
Text
Johnny Boy
“Let’s go, let’s go. Get the lead out boys!” Major John Egan ordered as he clapped his hands together.
“Excited to see Harding that much, Major?” Ken Lemmings asked rhetorically, parking his jeep.
“More like a certain lieutenant.” Blakey commented, lighting a cigarette. “All I heard on the flight back was [y/n] this and [y/n] that. Almost as if we weren’t staring down the face of Nazi fighters.”
Coming up behind Blakey, Douglass slapped Blakey on the back. “Don’t be too jealous Blakey, maybe Tatty will forgive you for saying her sister is prettier.”
“It was a joke!”
“Jokes are meant to be funny, Ev.” Crosby deadpanned from his place on the ground.
“Get in the truck, boys! This war ain’t gonna stop because of your romantic problems.” John Egan was not known for being a patient man. And at this moment, his patience was as thin as his fort’s wings, which were currently shot to shit thanks to the Luftwaffe.
“You know all about romance, right Major?”
With an eye roll, the Major squared his shoulders ready to yell at his men. However, his irritated expression softened as he watched two figures coming his way.
Noticing the attentive blue eyed gaze across the field, [y/n] smiled as she drew nearer. She had not planned to visit the airfield today. Despite knowing that the 100th Bomb Group would be out flying, she had intended to stay in her office. But when Johnny asked, with a hopeful request and a sweet smile, she knew she couldn’t say no. She seemed to have soft spots for Johns she mused, as a pair of small hands tightened their grip on her right hand.
“She read me a book and colored with me!”
Bucky’s eyebrows raised at the British voice informing him of how he was losing the battle for [y/n]’s attention. Six year old Johnny Baker was as formidable as the Germans, the blonde had met Lieutenant [full name] on his first day moving to base and imprinted on her like any good duckling would.
“And she said that she’ll watch me play footy!”
However, Major John Egan was a flyboy and they were not so easily defeated. Crouching down to be eye-level with rival, the major crossed his arms. “Well, she told me I’m clever, funny and..." With a dramatic pause, he continued, "and handsome.”
Stomping his foot at his competitor, the blonde took on a tone of conceited immaturity. “Well she told me that I give the best hugs!”
“Well,” John mimicked, “She kissed me.” And with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes, Bucky added in a lyrical voice, “On the lips.”
With a gasp and whine of her name, the blonde buried his face into [y/n]’s stomach as her hands patted his back comfortingly .
“Are you really arguing with a child?” She asked sternly, as John stood up. “Again?” She pressed, restraining the grin trying to surface at his easy smile. The times she had found them competing for her affection were becoming too numerous to count. Just last week, she had to kiss him better when he scraped his knee racing Johnny across the blacktop of the airfield. She was thankful he was kind enough to let her kiss his lips instead of his bloodied knee.
“No, I’m not arguing with a child.” John watched Johnny stick his tongue out at him, “He’s arguing with me.” With a chuckle, he mirrored the action back at Johnny.
Alive and as charming and tenacious as ever she reflected, assessing his wellbeing . The weight of the war had become harder to bear on their shared tree branch as more flyboys left and didn’t come back. She hadn’t realized her breath had been stalled in fear of his safety until she felt herself lose it again by his adoring look.
John ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the evaluating look on her face “So where’s my reason?”
“Where’s my souvenir?” She responded, meeting his unwavering gaze. It had become their greeting, a promise of a gift that kept them both grounded.
Removing his head from her stomach, Johnny looked up. A pout sprouted on his lips as the adults seemingly ignored him, focusing instead on making what his big cousin Susie called “googly eyes”. With a tug to her hand, Johnny whined. “[nickname]!”
John watched as [y/n] turned her attention to the baby duck calling her name. The blonde’s hair had become ruffled as feathers from his fight for her attention and John knew like any mama bird she would fix it. However, she wasn’t a duck, she was a different bird. His bird to be exact so the only hair she would be fixing would be his curls. Therefore, before her raised hand could fix the strays, an Army Air Corps Officer cap covered Johnny's head.
Taking advantage of his enemy’s distraction, John’s hand gripped [y/n]’s face and momentarily brushed his lips against hers. While a moment on the lips, it spoke of tenderness, love and promise for more.
“Hey!” Removing the cap from his head, Johnny glared at the taller male who seemed wholly unperturbed.
“What?” The innocence in his smile and tone betrayed the mischief inside. The bashful smile he sent her all but confirmed [y/n]'s suspicions. That he did always love when she ran her hands through his curls. And that he was jealous, even of a child.
“Interrogation, Egan!”
Bucky sighed theatrically at the commanding voice behind him. Though the sigh was a sign of acknowledgement, he made no move to leave. If anything it made him more resolute.
“Jack,” Facing his fellow major, John motioned toward the pair at his side, “The good lieutenant and this fine soldier need a ride back to the HQ.”
Major Jack Kidd could use many adjectives to describe John Egan, however, since becoming Air Exec the most he would offer was 'a royal pain in my ass'. “Now, John!”
Though Kidd didn’t seem to be moved, John pressed on. “We can’t just leave them, Jack.”
Biting her lip, [y/n] attempted to maintain a neutral expression. His baritone voice was as pleasant as ever, but the tone of pleading reminded her of times when he pleaded for other things. Some which he had no shame in doing in front of other people, like a dance or smile, and some that were reserved for just the two of them, like a kiss and other intimate notions.
Turning towards the gentle tug on his sheepskin’s sleeve, John leaned down.
“Can we ride in the truck?” Johnny whispered poorly, allowing those close enough to hear.
“If you look sad you can.” John replied conspiratorially, enjoying the giggle it elicited from [y/n] who’s attention had been off him for far too long.
“Get in the truck, Egan.” Though Kidd offered John a look of utter lack of amusement, he sighed. One day he’ll learn to not wipe John’s ass, Jack promised himself. “You too,” he finished gesturing toward the pair.
Breaking out into a wide smile, John’s hands wrapped around [y/n] and Johnny’s shoulders. Guiding them to the awaiting truck, John pulled himself into the truck bed first. With his attention on Johnny, John offered instructions where to put his feet and hands to safely enter the truck all the while, his hands gently hovering his smaller body to offer assistance if needed.
Unbeknownst, [y/n]’s expression was soft in a way she only ever let it be around John. War was not the time to think of a future full of little feet and miniature giggles, but John Egan was a man who inspired hope.
“Need help, Lieutenant?” A deep baritone voice interrupted her thoughts. Though capable and confident, [y/n] took the calloused hand that was offered to her. Allowing herself to be pulled into the warmth of the sheepskin, she brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth.
“Think Cros can take him?” He whispered, nodding to the navigator currently being interrogated by the Brit.
With a laugh, she guided John by the hand to his rightful place next to her on the truck's bench. Bumping her nose against his, she whispered, “You certainly weren’t.”
John laughed gently and easily as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders before taking her hand in his again. Pulling her as close as they could, he leaned into her ear. Planning to defend himself, the pilot opened his mouth but stopped when a sudden weight dropped on him.
“Johnny!”
Ignoring the scolding tone, the blonde pushed his body weight against Bucky and wedged himself between the pair. “You forgot your hat, Major.” Johnny mocked, throwing his hat at the elder.
“Why you little….”
A/N: Hope you guys enjoy! I appreciate all the positive feedback from my other works!
#john egan x female reader#john egan imagine#john egan x reader#major john egan x reader#masters of the air imagine#masters of the air x reader#mota drabble#bucky egan x reader#mota fanfic#mota x reader
137 notes
·
View notes
Text
Opposites Do Attract
Gale ‘Buck’ Cleven x Reader
Word Count - 915
Based off of this request - Can I request a Buck x reader, where the reader is very extroverted, maybe even the opposite of Buck, but they fit so well together. They could be going out for drinks or her meeting the boys or something similar.
Anyone who met Buck Cleven and Y/N Y/L/N at Thorpe Abbotts shared a common thought - they were an unexpected pair. It had become all too common for the newcomers to assume Y/N was with Bucky with her loud, bubbly energy and it almost seemed brash for cool, calm, collected Buck to be with Ken Lemmons loudest female mechanic but damn, did it work. They had met one morning as Y/N was going over some last minute inspections on Buck’s plane for his daily missions.
“How’s she looking, ma’am?” his voice startled her, her head hitting against the plane’s metal.
“Good lord!” she exclaimed. “Give a girl a warning before you sneak up like that.” she complained, rubbing the back of her head. She fully stepped from under the plane's wings and caught a glimpse of the man behind the voice. Her eyes widened once she noticed a Major was standing before her awaiting her response. “Major Cleven” right hand flying to her forehead to salute “Plane is all ready, sir.”
“No need to salute, ma’am. Thank you for taking such good care of her. I put her through hell.” Buck spoke as he opened the plane’s hatch to stow his bag and she couldn’t stop the scoff that left her mouth. “I think that’s an understatement, sir.”
Most of the guys probably wouldn’t have taken this kind of attitude, per se, from a mechanic - let alone a woman- but he couldn’t care less. The sight of her almost made him want to laugh. There she stood, hip jutted out and hand secured atop it, eyes squinting up at him most likely awaiting some sort of angry remark but all he could do was shuffle the toothpick around in his mouth and nod in agreement. “I’ll be waiting to fix her right back up for ya later, Major.”
The couple had been sealed since. When Buck finally caved and spilled the beans about a woman to Bucky, he thought John was going to have a medical emergency right there in the mess hall.
“You have a woman and you just now think to bring it up?” Bucky said, astonished. “I didn’t want you to scare her away.” Buck quipped. If he only knew.
“Well.” Bucky clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. “When am I gonna meet this mysterious young lady?” he urged, squeezing his hands down before an idea crossed his mind “Bring her to the pub tomorrow!”
______
If Buck could have taken a picture of the looks on the boys’ faces when he walked in with Y/N on his arm, he would have framed it and taken it with him on every flight he ventured out on. “Well I’ll be damned, Buck.” Bucky uttered, for once in his life he was almost speechless. Almost.
“I’d suggest you pick your jaw up off the floor, Major. I’d sure hate for you to swallow a bug.” She teased and the entire table erupted in laughter. Buck couldn’t help the small smile that broke out on his own face, a sense of pride soaring through his body. Bucky took a long swig of his drink before retorting. “Seems you’ve got yourself a jokester, Buck.” He nodded. “She’s a little more than that.”
“Wait, ain’t you the girl who works with Lemmons?” Blakely spoke, realization washing over the faces of a few of the men. “Yeah! You’re the girl who fixed my landing gear the other day.” Brady sat up, pointing at the girl standing firm besides Buck.
“You’re welcome by the way.” she waved her hand towards him. “Actually, everyone is welcome. You can thank me for getting you up in the air in the first place. Now I’m getting a drink. Keep the gossip to a minimum while I’m gone, now.” She turned, patting Buck on the chest. “You want something, baby?” looking up at her doe eyed boyfriend. “Just a Coke for me, honey.” She jokingly saluted, walking off towards the bar.
____
Buck had full confidence Y/N would fit in with his crew of men. Whether most of them had realized it before or not, she was the sole reason they were able to make it off the ground in the first place. He couldn’t help but say it almost made his heart swell with pride watching her interact with his friends. “Should I sing?” Bucky’s voice broke through his train of thought, hands tapping against his arm chair. There wasn’t time for him to protest before Y/N jumped up from her place on his lap. “Let’s go, Bucky!” Y/N’s laughed.
He couldn’t explain the feeling that was coursing through his body but as he watched his best friend - more so a brother at this point - and his newfound love sharing a laugh together over the less than perfect singing, he only grew more confident in his relationship. Many would describe Buck Cleven as a many of very little words but if anyone asked about Y/N, his Y/N, he didn’t think there were enough words in the dictionary to explain just how he felt.
Once the song stopped and the singing duo had left the stage, Buck watched as Y/N headed to the bar and Bucky made his way back to him.
“Buck, I gotta say -“ pausing to take a drink of his whisky. “You’ve found yourself a keeper. You two couldn’t be any more opposite but man, does it work.”
#masters of the air#masters of the air x reader#anthony boyle#gale cleven#john egan#masters of the air imagines#robert rosenthal#rosie rosenthal#gale cleven x reader#buck cleven x reader#austin butler imagine#austin butler x reader
265 notes
·
View notes
Text
Midnight Repair Shop
John "Bucky" Egan x Female!Mechanic!Reader
Blurb: In the middle of the night, accompanied with the choruses of men from the Officer’s pub afar, Bucky saw the hangar light was on. He peeked and found Jerry to his Tom—(Y/N), one of the mechanics whose side job apparently was to annoy him. It was that one time when Bucky and (Y/N) repaired not only the plane, but somehow their whole dynamics all these months.
warning: inaccuracies especially with the mechanical terms because I'm not used to them and just looked em up from the internet. also, maybe weird phrasing or grammatical incorrect since English is not my first language. pls let me know what I could do better <3
note: pure fluff and giggles, some arguments but all is good with our Bucky. this is my first mota fic out there and why shouldn't i choose our antic Bucky as the main character? ;) also, this is based on the portrayal of the actors from Masters of the Air. all respect to the veterans and family
words: 3160 (sorry!)
It was a sunny day as the sun was casting a golden hue over Thorpe Abbotts, the distant hum of aircraft engines signaled the approach of returning fighter planes. Among them was Major John Egan–”it’s just me, Bucky’s fine”–his B-17 streaking through the sky and leading the squadron. It was not an easy mission, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. The route was clear and the enemy’s cover was minimum.
With steady hands, Bucky guided his aircraft toward the runway as his eyes scanned the horizon for any signs of trouble. The roar of the engine filled the cockpit as he made minute adjustments to his altitude and speed, preparing for the critical moment of touchdown.
As the wheels of his B-17 made contact with the tarmac, Bucky maneuvered and smoothly brought it to a stop with. The plane rolled to a halt, its engine purring contentedly as Bucky taxied toward the waiting ground crew.
You were one of the ground crews, a skilled mechanic around the base. People knew your work ethic and they damn respected you out of it. And that clearly gave some benefits around here.
“Back from another joyride, Major?”
You emphasized the rank as Bucky made his way out from the cockpit. His flight suit was slightly disheveled, his hair was a bit scruffy but his smile was as bright as the summer sun. Brady jumped out, his eyes scanned you and Bucky.
“Hey, (Y/N).”
“Capt,” you tilted your chin and raised your eyebrows slightly to acknowledge his presence.
“Joyride?” Bucky pulled your attention back at him. “More like a death-defying adventure, (Y/N). You know, I like to keep things exciting.”
“That ain’t exciting, bud,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “Let’s see what kind of mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”
You wasted no time inspecting the plane, your expert eye quickly picking up on any signs of damage. Still locking your eyes to the plane, you said, “I swear, Bucky, if next time you come back with another dent in your plane, I’m going to start charging you for the repairs. And trust me, it ain’t cheap.”
“Did you just threaten me?” he let out a dramatic gasp, putting his hand in front of his chest. “You know, I think I’m starting to rub off on you. After all, it truly takes a special kind of person to keep up with a pilot like me.”
Your hands ran through the plane’s body, bullet holes were scattered and some flak damages were tattooed to the metal skin. You suspected there were some engine reduction from the enemy’s fire, as well as control surface damage.
“You’re not the only one keeping me busy. I have plenty of other pilots crashing their planes too, creating these cute little bends and missing some rivets,” you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes again.
“You know, (Y/N), I’m starting to think you have a thing for me crashing. How else do you explain always being there to fix up my messes?” still in his dramatic tone, he raised an eyebrow at you.
You turned your head to him, trying to mimic his dramatic gasp earlied, “Oh my God! Weird thing is, I can’t imagine having this thing called a job! Have you ever heard of that?”
You lost count on rolling your eyes at him. He laughed faintly and started to walk away from you.
“Hey, (Y/N), if I had a penny for every time you gave me that look of disapproval, I’d have enough to buy myself a damn new plane. One that doesn’t need fixing every time I fly it.”
“Spare your voice for the interrogation, Bucky, you’re just talking shit right now,” you said dismissively. You could hear his ragged breath from your place, that man clearly needed to at least have a good hot chow.
“Ouch, that stings.”
Despite your dismissive tone, you couldn’t help but to let a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
As the darkness draped itself over Thorpe Abbotts like a heavy cloak, the Officer's pub emerged as a sanctuary of warmth and light. The air was buzzing with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, faint laughters could be heard from afar. Bucky Egan was bathed in a warm, golden light from the row of lanterns that lined the walls. Wooden beams crisscrossed the ceiling above him, their darkened surfaces reflecting the soft glow of the fire roaring in the hearth.
Around the room, Bucky found himself gathered at wooden tables with other airmen as the air was thick with the scent of pipe tobacco and the familiar aroma of alcohol, mingling with the lively strains of a piano being played in the corner.
“I don’t know, man. You seem pretty tipsy already,” Buck Cleven shook his head with a chuckle when Bucky offered to buy them another round of drinks. “I don’t want you stumbling into any trouble, you know.”
Hearing what his buddy said, Bucky laughed. “Me? Trouble? Com on, Buck, you know me better than that. I can handle myself just fine! Look at this.”
Bucky tried to jump from his seat to buy another round, but then he stumbled and let the men laugh as he landed in a weird position.
“Alright, alright,” he said, laughing with them too. He was just too damn charming to be ashamed, it’s alarming.
“No more drinks,” Bucky said, God knows to Buck or to himself.
“No more drinks,” Buck hummed the same chorus. Bucky laughed, shook his head faintly.
“I’m gonna head back,” he eventually reached a decision. “And I don’t want any of you to take me, feel like flying solo tonight. ‘Kay?”
“Sure, Bucky, whatever you want,” Brady laughed as he sipped his glass. With that, Bucky stumbled out into the cool night air, leaving the sounds of laughter and conversation that faded behind him. He took a deep breath, the crisp night air helped him clearing his muddled mind as he made his unsteady steps back to his barrack.
Humming sporadic notes from Bing Crosby, he noticed a faint flickering light shined through the windows from a hangar nearby with its door ajar. Curious, and perhaps a little tipsy, he decided to investigate.
Who the hell works at this hour, he thought to himself. With a curious tilt of his head, he veered off course, his feet guiding him toward the source of lights. Peeking a bit, he was greeted by the sight of your back, working on his plane.
Bucky sauntered in, his flight jacket slung over one shoulder, a cocky grin plastered across his face. He squinted against the sudden brightness, his eyes struggling to adjust to the harsh contrast after the darkness outside. Blinking rapidly, he stumbled forward, laughing at his own stupidity. And he might or might not realize that he always felt way more stupid around you, throwing all those flirts and banters like a loony.
“Hey there, (Y/N)! Patching up the old birds, are we?” Bucky slurred slightly.
You turned your head at him, still on your workbench raising an eyebrow at Bucky’s disheveled appearance.
“Looks like someone had a bit too much to drink tonight,” you made a remark as you continued working gunning the rivets. “Too much liquid courage at the pub?”
Bucky chuckled, he leaned against a nearby box for support. “Liquid courage? More like liquid genius! But hey, I couldn’t resist the chance to see your pretty face before I hit the hay.”
Bucky grinned stupidly at your back as he heard you replied monotonously, “Oh lucky me. The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.”
He laughed at your dry response, stepped in. “Nah, just needed a little pick-me-up after a long day of saving the world. You know how it is.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress a smile at Bucky’s antics. You’ve gotten used to all that now, working side by side for a couple months.
“Yeah, yeah, the brave pilot routine. I’ve heard it all before. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”
As Bucky watched you expertly finish tinkering the body, you couldn’t help but admire your skill and determination. God knows since when you had worked on his plane today!
He leaned against the nearby workbench, his grin widening. “It’s your touch that keeps her purring, (Y/N). Without you, she’d be just another hunk of metal gathering dust.”
You rolled your eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, flyboy. You’re not fooling anyone with your smooth talk.”
“Hey, I’m just stating facts!”
“Yeah, and Hitler’s a good man. Now do me a favor, hand me the rivet gun over there,” you asked, tilting your head to the tool box.
Your hand brushed with his as he handed you the rivet gun. The wind suddenly swirled around the hangar and you shuddered at the chills down your spine. You took the gun swiftly and placed it over the exposed end of the rivet shaft. You securely fastened patches of those new aluminum sheets metal onto the wing, covering the bullet holes.
You’d been fixing the engine with Ken all day, finished just before the curfew. To clear your mind, you decided to fix the panels tonight as you asked Ken to get a hot chow. After some good arguments thrown from you, Ken gave up and walked away.
And here you were, in the hangar with the famous Bucky Egan. You’d been working with him for months, yet you didn’t know if he made all those compliments and flattery to other women as well. There weren’t any female mechanics around here and you knew he had his own way with women.
Flattery didn’t get him anywhere, but it got you somewhere.
You decided to break the silence, “You know, Bucky, I’m starting to think you pilots have a secret competition to see who can wreck their plane the most. Am I right?”
To hide whatever feelings that tried to surface, you put your familiar mask–strict, to the point, and sometimes a bit offensive. That way, you could protect yourself.
“Am clearly the best,” from the corner of your eyes, you could see him nodded and smiling. Suddenly it was so infuriating, how smiley he always was, how cheerful and friendly he was to you. How easy he was to throw compliments, and how easy he was to look at her with such adoration.
“Yeah, I've always thought you were a great pilot. Shame you're not quite as good at keeping your plane in one piece.”
You were unable to keep your feelings now. It was bottled up all this time. You were tired, hungry, and thirsty. You were vulnerable.
“Hey, hey, now,” Bucky might be a bit drunk but he wasn’t stupid. Something in the air shifted, your tone was harsh. Too harsh for his liking and your own good. Your tone was aggressive and he felt like you tried to hurt him with your remarks. Usually, they were all harmless, he even found you funny. But what was with the sudden change of tone?
“Come on, now. Why do you always pick on me?” Bucky tried to remain calm.
Forgot being calm! You were raging all of sudden. “Why would I pick on you, stop being so full of yourself.”
That’s it. That was the last straw.
“Hey, that stings!” Bucky was flustered, he walked closer to you, gaze piercing your back.
You sighed. You’re tired. You’ve been working all day and haven’t eaten since 8 am. It’s somewhere over 12 am now.
Fuck, you muttered to yourself. You need to shape the replacement panels to match the contours of the wing’s surface before riveting them. You got up and walked to the sheet metal bender, but Bucky stopped you.
With the faint hangar light on top of you both, now Bucky could fully take a look at your current state. You knew you looked terrible.
“Okay, you need to stop,” Bucky sighed. “Go to your barrack. You need to sleep.”
“I need to work.”
“She can wait. I’ll ask Lemmons to patch her up early in the morning,” Bucky said, his voice was authoritative. “Now, let’s get you some sleep.”
“No,” you tried to walk to the metal bender but his grip was strong.
“Come on, or I’m gonna abduct you.”
You almost rolled your eyes at that, but he quickly swept you off the ground. “Hey! Put me down!”
Despite the serious and cold air surrounding you both earlier, you could see how Bucky giggled. You always acted all tough, but you were just a girl for him. Your strength couldn’t even match him.
She’s cute, you didn’t know Bucky thought that right now.
He thought this was all just a joke, your mind stated.
“Nah, I’ll put you on your bed myself.”
You huffed in frustration, your attempts to free yourself only serving to make Bucky hold on tighter. "This isn't funny, Bucky! Put me down right now!"
But before Bucky could respond, his foot caught on a stray toolbox lying on the floor, sending you both tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs. With a yelp of surprise, you landed on top of him, your bodies pressed together in an awkward and unexpected embrace.
For a moment, you lay there in stunned silence, the only sound filling the air was the pounding of your hearts.
With a stupid grin on his face, Bucky smiled surprisingly sweetly, “Hello.”
As the realization of your predicament sunk in, your cheeks flushed crimson, maybe with anger or maybe with something else.
"Are you kidding me, Bucky?" you exclaimed, pushing yourself off him with a scowl. "I told you to put me down!"
Bucky winced while grinning sheepishly, rubbing his head where it had collided with the floor. He was fully sober now, thanks for the thud. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I didn't mean for us to fall."
You crossed your arms over your chest, your expression still stormy. "Well, it's not funny. You could have seriously injured yourself. You’re one of the best pilots we’ve got, what would happen if you got hurt?!"
Bucky sighed, his earlier amusement fading as he met your angry gaze. He got up, walked a step closer to you.
"You need to be worried about yourself. What is it, (Y/N)? You’re not usually this… tensed. Is something bothering you?”
Bucky put his hand on your shoulder. You stiffened at his touch, jerking away as if scalded.
"I'm fine," you snapped, your tone once again sharp and defensive.
Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, hurt flickering in his eyes. "Hey, I was just asking. You don't have to bite my head off."
You didn’t want to meet his gaze. Your eyes wandered to the floor that suddenly became so interesting.
But you knew that Bucky wasn't about to let you off the hook that easily. "I don't buy it, (Y/N). You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."
You scoffed, rubbed your eyes slowly, “It’s nothing.”
“Hey, tell me,” Bucky now grabbed your arms and once again you stiffened at his gesture. You looked up as your gaze fell to his, eyes blinked rapidly. Your cheeks flushed as you once again broke eye contact and looked at the new interesting thing: the metal bender.
And a realization hit Bucky like a lightning. The way you laughed or rolled your eyes at his jokes despite being known as a serious fella, the way you looked at him before he took off, the way you always kept some distance…
“Hey,” Bucky’s voice softened. “I’ve never been this straightforward, but we don’t have much time… Do you like me?”
He could feel your muscles tensed under his touch. You still refused to look at him.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Where did the tough, no-nonsense (Y/N) go?
“Hey, (Y/N), look at me,” Bucky asked you gently. He knew for sure that you held a feeling for him and he was too damn stupid to realize. He tried so hard to suppress his smile.
You looked up, his expression was soft and his eyes fixed on you with a gleam that made the butterflies crazy inside your stomach. You thought about every possible reaction: rejections, lots of yelling, a broken respect and trust, no more jokes and friendships… But you didn’t expect when he leaned closer and brought you in, when his lips touched yours with a gentleness you could only imagine.
Bucky’s lips tasted like a good amount of mint and alcohol mixture. You were intoxicated. He put his hand on your hip, the other caressed your cheek. His touch was a gentle yet firm anchor, drawing you closer to him in a silent declaration of desire. Your fingers traced the curves of your hips with a tender reverence, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you melted into his embrace.
He’d never imagine touching you, grabbing your crinkled jumpsuit as he kissed you deeper, his hands wandered. You felt a rush of warmth spreading through your body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t ignore. His hands, strong and sure from years of training, held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His touch was both possessive and protective all at once.
When you both pulled away, trying to catch a breath, you saw Bucky smiling. His hands were still on your hips, now the right one stroke your cheek and your lips.
"You know, (Y/N), I've always admired you. The way you always know your way around an engine, your work ethic, your remarks, your replies to my jokes… I've always thought you were pretty amazing,” he whispered. “The way you handle those machines... it's something else. That’s why I always send my plane to you."
Your cheeks flushed slightly at the unexpected compliments, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. You were anything but flushed and fluttered.
"Well, I guess someone has to keep you flyboys in the air. Can't have you crashing and burning without us, right? You better treat her right up there or I'll make sure your next landing isn't so smooth."
Bucky grinned, feeling a surge of confidence after a heavy cloud towering you both earlier.
"Hey, what do you say we had a drink tomorrow? I’d like to discuss tonight's matter, after you had a good rest of course.”
Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with Bucky outside of work. You were exhausted, but after what happened tonight, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep.
"I suppose one drink couldn't hurt. But don't think this means I'm going easy on you, Bucky. I've got a reputation to uphold, after all."
#masters of the air#bucky egan#john egan#callum turner#mota#mota bucky#masters of the air bucky#masters of the air fanficiton#masters of the air imagine#masters of the air x reader#bucky egan x reader#bucky egan fanfiction#bucky egan fluff#bucky egan fic#mota fanfiction#mota x reader#masters of the air imagines#callum turner imagines#callum turner x reader#john egan x reader#john egan fanfiction#tetrapost mota
128 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
formerlydyl
Bad Teams and Struggling Players
alexanderbaez
Alexander
retiredsnowflake-blog
Retired
db-eat-blog
Electronic music
maverickbeardgrowreview-blog
beard czar where to buy