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winniemaywebber · 4 days

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The Apple Tree 🌳 • Part 4

warnings: 18+, teasing, oral (f receiving), sexual intercourse.

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @scuttle-buttle @ronsenthal @groovin2beats @hellfirequinnie

You've been exchanging flirtatious glances with Rosie all night long from across the room. You, Sally and the rest of your gang were knee deep in the usual Friday gossip session; this time in a different location than the village pub. You and Sally had been invited along to the club on base with your guys, and both of you had insisted that Heather and Violet came along too. After all, you couldn't skip a weekly meeting. It wouldn't be right.

“Hey, Y/N, did you hear about Rita? Well…” your attention on her words trails off when you see Rosie look at you once again, his eyes dragging themselves up and down your body. There's a different look in his eyes tonight, one you hadn't seen before. His pretty blue eyes are still twinkling, but there's something more in them…and you can't wait to find out what it is. You turn your head to the side slightly as he winks at you, you biting your lip subtly in response. Two can play at this game, you think to yourself.

Before long, Heather is asked to dance by a replacement named Fred and the seat beside you is empty. Rosie makes a beeline for it, kissing you on the cheek as he sits down. “Sweetheart,” he says, that twinkle still in his eyes. “You look beautiful this evening.”

“Oh, thank you, my love.” You smile at him, his hand upon your leg.

“Push your chair in a little,” he murmurs. Confused, you do as you're told, seeing that spark in his gaze once again. It seems to be swelling from warm embers to a blazing wildfire as he waits patiently for you to stop scooting your chair. It takes your breath away. The second your legs are under the table, you realize exactly why he wanted you to move your chair.

His big, beautiful hand paws even further up your leg, his fingers toying with the hem of your skirt, pulling it up just slightly. You look at him, wide-eyed, trying to hold in a gasp at his touch, sending shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to raise up on your exposed limbs. He titters, his hand now on your thigh and stroking the inside of it. As if it's muscle memory, and not quite being able to control yourself, you seem to lower your hips down in the seat so his hand hits your covered core, already a little damp. The gasp comes this time, as his pinkie reaches out and very delicately touches you right where you want him.

“Rosie!” You whisper, giggling under your breath.

“What?” he says, totally calm. “What's up?” You look at him, mouth open. He raises his eyebrows teasingly and shrugs before holding his hands up. “I don't know what you're talking about, pretty girl. Come on,” he holds his hand out. “I need to dance with my girl before I walk her home.”

—

Before you make your way to the small dancefloor, Rosie beckons over a friend. “Y/N, this is Croz. Harry Crosby.” Harry holds out a hand towards you and smiles softly, his kind eyes shining at you. You take his hand and shake it. “Hi, Harry! Good to meet you! Rosie has told me so much about you, and your wonderful wife.”

“Oh, all good I hope! I'm headed to go write her actually, but I just wanted to come and introduce myself and finally meet the girl Rosie will not stop talking about.” He winks towards his friend, who playfully shoves him in response. Downing the last of his drink, he waves goodbye to the both of you.

—

As you dance slowly together, his mouth finds your ear, making your toes curl. “I could just eat you,” his voice barely above a whisper. He plants kisses from your ear all the way down to your now incredibly hot cheek, before giving your jaw a discreet nip as he breaks away. Your head spinning, you cup his chin in your hand. “Take me home, Rosie,” you pause for a second, kissing him just once. “Right now.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

—

Crashing through the door of your cottage, you can barely keep your hands off him. This has happened a few times since he had asked you to be his girl weeks ago, but you'd always seemed to stop yourselves from going too far. He'd always reluctantly pull away, your hands clasped in his and say goodnight with sad eyes. Tonight, though, is different, as he doesn't stop you as you go to unbutton his jacket. He shucks it off at lightning speed, you pulling on his tie to bring him back to you, his hand on your waist to bring your bodies together. He groans into you as you run your hand over the bulge developing in his slacks, his hand getting lower on your body and gently squeezing your behind.

“Come to bed with me,” you ask breathlessly, looking up at him through your lashes. “Please, darling.” He simply nods and lets you lead him up the stairs, his hand in yours. Thanking your lucky stars that you'd decided to tidy up your room this evening, you close the thin curtains before turning to face Rosie. Walking back up to him and gently stroking his cheek, you have him meet your gaze. “Are you sure about this, Rosie?”

“Never been so sure of anything in my life, Y/N.” He begins to fiddle with the buttons of your dress, the feeling of his hands on your exposed skin driving you wild as he pops each button open with painstaking slowness. You slip your dress off, letting it fall by your feet and stepping back slightly. He drinks you in, his mouth open in astonishment.

“Oh, fuck,” he says, the first time you've ever heard him cuss. “You are beautiful.” You giggle at him, before gesturing with your eyes to his clothed body.

“Your turn, Major.” Seeing a mischievous flash in his eyes as you use his rank, he unbuttons his shirt as fast as possible, before pulling off his slacks at the same speed.

He pulls you close to him again, walking you towards the bed and laying you down on the plush duvet when the back of your legs hit the edge. Pulling you up to your pillow, his arms cage you in as he kisses you deeply and furiously, his hands all over you, leaving trails of fire all over your skin. Leaving your mouth, he makes his way down your jaw to your neck, his mustache deliciously tickling your skin causing you to gasp and moan. He shoots up instantly, a concerned look in his eyes. “Is this okay? Are you okay?”

“Baby,” you rise up, kissing him again. “I'm perfect. And are you okay?”

“Never better, angel.” Taking advantage of you sitting up, he unclips your bra in one swift movement. “Oh, honey,” He says, looking you up and down. “You sure are perfect.”

He resumes his position kissing your neck, making his way down your whole body as you feel liquid pooling at your core at the sensation of him kissing your skin, his mustache adding just a little roughness to it. Getting lower, he looks deep into your eyes as he places your nipple in his mouth and sucks, his tongue swirling around your swollen bud. Bucking into him as he switches sides, the sound that leaves you is almost animalistic. You clamp a hand over your mouth, almost in embarrassment. He makes his way down the valley between your breasts, removing your hand from your mouth as he does so.

“Cut that out, honey. I wanna hear you.” You remove your hand as he kisses your hip where your underwear sits, the lacy fabric covering your increasingly damp core. He gently sinks his teeth into your skin to grab the material and begins pulling them down.

“Oh, God,” you moan, almost whimpering as you watch him. Coming back up, he gently runs his fingers through your folds, moaning at the wetness. His finger finds your clit instantly, a direct hit with no guidance needed. You continue moaning softly as he plants kisses on the inside of your thighs, slowly inserting his finger into you, pumping in and out before adding another.

“Rosie…darling…please…” you mewl as he looks up at you with mischief in his eyes. Without a word, he puts his mouth on you, his tongue flat to lap you up.

“Like I said,” he pulls away momentarily. “I could just eat you.” Within seconds, you're a writhing mess in front of him, your hands finding their way into his pretty curls. As he pulls away, you see his hair is incredibly tousled from where your hands had been, the ringlets bordering on being cherub-like.

Both breathless, he climbs off the bed to remove his underwear. They fall to the floor as you sit up, eyes widening as you see him rock hard and ready, such a soft, subtle pink color - he's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

You get up to stand in front of him, both now fully exposed to one another. He kisses you deeply, before sitting on the edge of the bed, beckoning you on top. You straddle him, the feeling of his bare skin on yours almost taking your breath away. He pulls away from the kiss and strokes your face, his eyes softening the way they do every time he looks at you. He smiles with his beautiful teeth and kissed your cheek. “Y/N,” he mutters, nervously. “Y/N, I think I'm falling in love with you.”

“Oh–oh, Rosie,” you reply, stuttering a little. You kiss him, eyes squeezed shut and let him enter you. “I think I'm in love with you, too.” You both groan with relief as you feel his whole length inside you, both giving each other time to adjust, him gently kissing your neck, his lips only just touching your skin. He looks up at you again, and presses his forehead to yours as you begin to move on him, both instantly breathing heavily. He captures your mouth in a deep kiss as you finally, finally, make love to one another.

---

You lay together under your plush duvet, clinging to each other, not bothering to get dressed. His hands all over your skin, tickling your back ever so gently, and yours playing with his hair, his eyes closed, totally relaxed.

“Will you spend the night?” You ask, your hands now stroking his face.

“I wish I could, sweetheart. I have to get back to base.”

“Hmm,” you reply sadly. “At least sleep with me for a few hours. Just for a little bit.”

“Okay,” He whispers, not even hesitating. He wraps himself around you, and falls asleep instantly.

—

You wake up the next morning, alone. Feeling a pang of sadness as you realize, you sit bolt upright. On the pillow he slept on sits a piece of paper.

“Sleep well, darling girl. See you in a couple days. Yours, R.”

As you read it, smiling, you hear the all too familiar rumble of B-17s taking off overhead. Your breath catches in your throat at the sound, sudden nerves bubbling up in your chest as you put a hand to it to settle your quickening heartbeat.

—

A knock at your door makes you jump as you pour your bedtime cup of tea. Thinking it to be Rosie visiting at this late hour, you practically leap right to it. To your surprise you see Sally and James standing there, both shivering in the night air, their expressions forlorn and almost mournful.

“Hey, Sal. James. Come on in, the water is still hot for tea,” you say, as you try to plaster on a smile and guide them into the house. The couple look from each other to you and back again, Sally biting down her lip so hard you can almost see it begin to swell instantly.

“What's going on?” You enquire, the atmosphere suddenly suffocating and tense.

“James…tell her.” He sighs, nodding, his eyes downcast.

“Rosie went up this morning–”

“Yeah, I heard the planes as I woke up, but what–”

“He hasn't come back, Y/N. We don't know where he or the crew are.” You feel the world begin to spin, trying your best to grab on to something, anything to steady you.

“Crap!” Sally yelps. “James, catch her!” And everything goes black.

---

once again, thank you to my two besties that read this over and over @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 ily!!! <3

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #mota fic #mota smut #rosie rosenthal #robert rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x reader #rosie rosenthal x oc #rosie rosenthal smut #winnie writes #18+ only

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wizard-of-interesting-failure · 5 months

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Skittle scuttle it bit you on the buttle

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lorna-d-m · 1 year

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I cannot get enough of this man @scuttle-buttle told me to post this

#ted lasso #ted lasso season 3 #dani rojas

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raraeavesmoriendi · 7 months

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got tagged by the darling @fairyysoup 🖤 thanks babe

rules: dump all the picrews you've made of yourself that you have in your camera roll here and tag some mutuals ✨😘

featuring my hair transition over the summer

once again no-pressure tagging the usual suspects who haven’t been tagged yet: @lightinthedarkuniverse @illegalcerebral @somethingthatsaysbubbles @scuttle-buttle @lorna-d-m @norabrice1701 @allmyfriendsareturians @darkhairedmenrule @ebiemidnightlibrarian @pondering-and-wondering @runawaywerewolf @imalsonotsure @eldritchcircus and anyone else who wants to ✨

#tagged in #rose!! 🌹♥️

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bubbles-the-banshee · 7 months

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Last Sentence Tag!

Thank you @bigtiddythanos for the tag. Hope you don't mind me posting this on my writing blog. My sentence is from Goddess Dead, so it just helps me keep track of stuff.

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything), and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

It’s the least I can do, and it’s less than they deserve.

No pressure tags: @morvantmortuary, @jmathesonandsiblings, @toribookworm22, @vissentasenadz, @eldritchcircus, @words-after-midnight, @chaospixiemagic, @buginateacup, @maximoffwxnda, @lorna-d-m, @motherofqups, and @scuttle-buttle

#last sentence tag #tag game #goddess dead #novel in progress #wip #no pressure tags

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morvantmortuary · 11 months

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okay so my buddy @somethingthatsaysbubbles has been nice enough to tag me in six sentence sundays twice now and I keep! forgetting!! so this is me doing two to make up for it lmao

both under the cut so I don’t crowd dashes bc lmao of course I wasn’t just going to post six sentences, are you kidding me?

and bc of some very slight nsft in the last one

no-pressure tagging some friends in the meantime! @rosemaremembrance @maximoffwxnda @bigtiddythanos @illegalcerebral @lightinthedarkuniverse/ @jmathesonandsiblings @pondering-and-wondering @lorna-d-m @scuttle-buttle @eldritchcircus @somethingthatsaysbubbles @ebiemidnightlibrarian @norabrice1701 and anyone else feeling up to it!

I. conversations at the cemetery line -

Leon chuckled. “Well, who else is there, champ? Your brother,” he said quietly. “We all heard he’s a scrapper, when he needs to be. But it’s been a while, and his daddy ain’t around to beg anyone to go easy on him anymore.”

“First of all, Hex is my cousin, and second of all, he can hold his own just fine,” Maxi snapped, his eyes red as a fresh wound.

“Sure, sure. But can the Belle of the Ball?” Leon asked, tilting his head with a smile showing too-long teeth. “Word is she’s up giving pretty boy a run for his money still. That would mean she’s fair game, too.”

“Ask your employers,” Maxi said flatly. “She ruined their whole party, you were there.”

“You Lifers, you really let being born into this make you think you know shit about shit.” Leon closed the distance between them so they were eye to eye, what little gray there was seeming to drain from his irises and pupil to leave only a ghastly white. “Did you really think you all could get out of this unscathed, boy?” His voice changed drastically, like gravel had scraped his vocal chords. “Show them up in their own house and go home to laugh about it?”

“Who’s laughin’?” Maxi said, his voice lowering to near a growl of his own.

“You’re gonna get yourselves killed, kid. Did you really think They’ll stop at just you? You think they won’t come for that little friend of yours once they chew through your family line? That they won’t come for everyone who ever laid eyes on you, and everyone you ever called a friend? They make ghost towns. I’ve seen ‘em do it.”

II. an indecent proposal --

Silence stretched like skin over an abscess, tight and uncomfortable. Maxi and Rora met each other’s eyes, before he and Hector seemed to have a long, oddly tense shared stare. Finally, when something between them was wordlessly settled, they both looked back to Rora.

Rora paused, her glass halfway to her mouth again. “…What. Why’re y’all lookin’ at me.” She looked between the two of them, irritated now. “Why am I the one makin’ the call?”

“It was your suggestion,” Maxi drawled, with not a small bit of snark. “Figured it’s only fair.”

“Plus you’re the one who knew what moon we needed,” Hex added. “And all that stuff.”

“Because it’s common sense, if you thought about it for even a half a second,” Rora sighed, putting her glass down to pinch the bridge of her nose. “And if either of you ever bothered to study—“

“I didn’t!” Hector said, throwing his hands in the air. “I didn’t, we both know I didn’t, why do you keep talking to me like I’m suddenly gonna wake up and want to memorize all the esoteric bullshit our dads never made me learn!”

“Because if you want the title at all, and don’t want to be an embarrassment to the entire lineage,” Rora turned to Hector, sounding like she was revving up on an ongoing argument. “You need to know your shit outside just ‘Ghost go poof’.”

“You know what, puta,” Hector turned, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You always wanna talk shit about the Veil, but you’re just mad you could never—“

“Oh puh-lease, Hector, tell me what I don’t know about the goddamn Veil, since I’m the one that’s actually been there—“

“Jesus Christ, not this again,” Maxi sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y’all, leave it alone, c’mon.“

“Butt out, Maxi, you abdicated.” Rora glared at her brother.

“Yeah, no one asked,” Hector agreed over Rora’s shoulder.

Maxi’s hands fell to the kitchen table, eyes dark. “That don’t mean I can’t fuse both y’all’s lips closed right now—“

You weren’t sure if it was the tequila that made you knock twice on the table, or made you ask, loudly: “Are you guys fucking me tonight or what?”

and now I’m just gonna leave these here :3 thanks for thinking of me, linds!

#six sentence sunday #morvant mortuary #monsterkisser fics #nice people #tagged in #wip snippet #maxi morvant #hex morvant-casares #rora morvant #slasher ocs #southern slasher ocs #necromancer ocs

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f1yogurt · 1 year

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Happy New Year to all of my followers and mutuals!

I have to admit, when I started posting on this account almost a year ago I was not expecting to meet so many amazing people online! I just want to say thank you to everyone who was very welcoming to me at the beginning and who to all of you who still support me today.

Thanks to everyone in the classic f1 discord, y’all make this fandom great. Also specifically thank you to anyone ever who sent me private messages on tumblr and picked up a conversation with me. It really means a lot to have a personal conversation, I remember you the most.

I almost don’t want to list out specific people I’m grateful for because there are so many and I’ll inevitably forget lots of tags, but I will try to keep it down to a few people I very first remember when joining fandoms last year who also made an impact on me:

Classic F1 // Niki Lauda

@1337wtfomgbbq @eliotheeangelis @cazzyf1 @a-la-rascasse @darkforestroads @iamidentical @bluesourkiwi @willbutyouwont @riccardo-and-elio @unleashed111 @theflirtmeister @puellascribere @elefdreams

Brühl related and/or Writing Admiration

@cazzyimagines @lorna-d-m @scuttle-buttle @amyowl470 @i-am-dead-inside-666 @catfoundfics

Joyeux Noël

@norabrice1701 @sam7sparks7 @sunangelflowers @frmagpieao3 @calimera62

#f1yogurt #personal #mutuals #thank you! cheers to another year #happy new year #2022 recap

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butter-beekeeper · 5 months

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Si la belleza fuera un crimen, yo te hubiera sentenciado a cadena Perpetua. Creo que tú mirar muy beuno así 🔗😏

Tú eres la de los ojitos bonitos, preciosa 💞

@scuttle-buttle

#mi querida bee

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scuttle-buttle · 21 days

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Co-Pilots

Nobody asked for this. I have the flu. I needed something nice to focus on and apparently this was it. Blame @lorna-d-m my partner in crime :) also kudos to winniemaywebber and sagesolscitcewrites because i def read all their stuff and was vibing it and the pet names and stuff sooo hard

Rated: 18+

Word Count: approx. 3k

Tags: MMF, fluff and reassurance, mentions of wartime ptsd, body confidence issues, mentions of having children, PiV sex, female receiving oral, male receiving oral, voyeurism, no stated use of contraception

A/N: Croz is referred to as Crosby, Harry, and Bing in this (so as not to confuse). And idk what rank Rosie is by this point so were just going with Major

✈️

The bright lights blinded you the first time you walked through New York City; tonight was no different. Flashes of neon whites, golds, blues, reds, lit up your path as you entered the lobby to the Ritz hotel. Your husband had made arrangements for you to meet him in the city much as he had a near 2 years ago during the height of the war. You wanted to meet him at the airport. Crosby insisted he find you at the hotel. And now, with Hitler defeated, he was on his way home. For good.

His phone call had startled you. Usually, you wrote him weekly, sometimes more if you felt lonesome. Harry’s letters were less frequent, but no less loving. Little Steve kept you more than busy most days, back home safe terrorizing your mother and father while you got some rest and relaxation with your Bing in the big city. The toddler was a shining light in your dark days. He had the same dark curls, the same downturned eyes as his father. A piece of your love that was yours no matter what the war brought - or took.

You’d nearly lost your footing when you heard his voice, gruff and mellow, across the line. Darlin’ it's me, he'd said, I'm coming home but I've got some business to finish in the city, meet me there. I'm bringing Rosie, you remember him yeah? Said he'll take us dancing at the best jazz spots. I love you Mrs. Crosby. See you soon.

Now you wait in the lobby for your love and his friend.

Minutes tick by as you wait. Maybe the plane was late? Maybe they had to meet somewhere after landing to debrief? Maybe there was a problem with the engine? Just as your maybes started to drown out the chatter and bustle around you a voice rang out.

“Well ho-ly mackerel, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes Mrs. Crosby.”

The sight of your husband had you dashing into his waiting arms. Tears streamed down your face as you kissed him senseless over and over and over. Crosby couldn’t contain his laughter at your reaction, nor did he bother hiding it when he wiped his eyes dry.

“I’ve missed you so much Bing.”

His forehead rested on yours. “God how I’ve missed you too, Darlin’.”

Over his shoulder you notice a taller man, stylish moustache and curls neatly gelled into place, attempting to avert his eyes and give your reunion privacy. You were struck by how attractive he was. “Bing?”

“Oh!” Harry takes a step back. “Darlin’ this is Robert Rosenthal - or Rosie as us boys like to call him.”

Rosie gives a toothy smile and holds out his hand for a firm shake; “so nice to meet you, Mrs. Crosby. Croz here has told me all about you.”

Giving your husband a raised eyebrow, you ask “all good things I hope?”

Both men chuckle. “Only the best, ma’am.”

The three of you settled into your rooms before deciding that a celebration was in order. Rosie commandeered the evening, promising only the best jazz New York had to offer. Drinks flowed, the band jived, and couples danced the night away.

Night after night, Rosie took you somewhere new. You’d split your time whirling the dancefloor between both your husband and his pilot friend, never satisfied until your feet ached. Harry claimed all the slow dances, nestled up close to your body. But Rosie? He got the fast-paced, jumping, hip swaying swing that Crosby claimed he couldn’t keep up with. Two left feet, he’d claim. Each morning after you slept in the plush, luxurious Ritz bed until lunchtime while they attended to their military duties.

Friday rolled around. It had been a week of this routine. You should’ve been exhausted, you should’ve wanted to slow down - after all you were no spring chicken anymore. Yet, something about being in the arms of your husband and Rosie as you swayed to Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, and Glen Miller felt so right.

When the barkeep yelled for “last call” you knew it was time to retire for the evening.

“Say, why don’t you come have a nightcap in our room, Rosie? Crosby asked.

The three of you settle into the living room of the suite assigned to you and your husband. Bing plops into an armchair with a satisfied huff. You join Rosenthal on the loveseat, a respectable distance inbetween. A bottle of whisky sits open on the fireplace mantle. Conversation comes and goes as the trio fall from the high of the night. It’s easy. Almost makes the boys forget the horrors they endured in Europe.

Around 1am the conversation begins to lull as you finish regaling the group with a story of the shenanigans you and your girlfriends would get up to during university days. “-You think you boys were bad flying all around in your skivvies, but it was nothing compared to us girls that night!” Laughter filled the room until all had let it trickle to a close; the silence was warm like the fireplace embers. Robert sat enraptured by your story, by your beauty, by the thought of you under that blue dress and all your curves. He knew he shouldn’t have noticed…..he was just a man after all. And with the things he’d seen? Could you really blame him?

“How long’s it been Rosie?” The question broke the man’s gaze from you and directed it towards Crosby. He didn’t know it was so obvious.

Rosie was about to stumble out an answer, an apology for looking at you like that, he doesn’t know, when Croz interrupts again. “When’s the last time you felt the touch of a good woman, Rosie?” Harry waits for an answer. Rosenthal can feel his face heat; he runs his fingers through his hair mussing the curls out of place. This confident Crosby was much bolder than the one he’d met when he first shipped out to the 100th. “Before the war?” There is no judgment in his eyes, no disdain or hesitation towards his comrade as he asks. Rosie shakes his head in affirmation. His glass clinks against the table as he sets it down, whisky unfinished.

Crosby sighs. “Too long.”

“Too damn long…” Rosie agrees in a mumble.

You sit and watch the boys in rapt attention before meeting Bing's chocolatey eyes. Rosenthal is a good man, a great one from what your husband’s letters proved, and he deserves kindness and softness after all he’s been through. They both do. A delicate hand moves to rest on Rosie’s knee where he sits next to you. His brow furrows. The Major flits his gaze between you and your husband.

In all seriousness Crosby says “It’s alright, I don’t mind.” He tilts his head forward in permission, a silent go ahead.

The navigator noticed how Rosie looked at you all night, how you returned the glances like a game of chicken. Each admiring but neither willing to do anything about it. How the two of you danced around the club without a care in the world at his insistence. He hadn’t seen Rosie smile like that in ages. He knew you hadn’t laughed like that since before he announced he was heading to the front. You definitely were reveling in the attention of both men tonight. This was never something you had discussed with your husband; somehow you just knew each other well enough even after so long apart to know that it was okay. It was something you both wanted.

Your fingers drifted higher on Rosie’s thigh; not enough to be indecent, but enough to get the message across. His larger palm came to rest atop yours, stopping the movement. “You uh- you’re okay with this?” the Brooklyn native questioned.

Without hesitation you reassure “I am.”

In a measured, almost odd approach Rosenthal shifts towards you. His lips hover over your cheek for a moment before the softest kiss brushes your skin. The whiskers of his mustache tickle. You can’t help the grin that threatens to break. He continues to kiss along your cheek, once, twice, thrice, each getting closer to your waiting lips. Finally, his chapped lips meet yours. This kiss is awkward at first as he gathers his bearing, quickly finding a rhythm as if no time had passed since he last kissed a pretty dame.

Crosby sunk deeper into his chair as he watched. He could feel the tell-tale sign of his slacks becoming tighter as he watched his best girl and his best friend. “She loves it when you kiss her neck,” he instructed with that smirk of his. Rosie dragged his lips to your throat. “Little lower-” again he shifted “-right there.” A moan slipped from your parted lips as your body warred with the directions from your husband and the attentions from your lover.

The room felt stifling. Rosie’s coat, your dress, his shirt, your stockings, his trousers, your brassiere - each fluttered off to the floor one by one. Even Bing had lost his button down.

The Major guided you onto your back along the couch, trailing open mouthed kisses down your sternum, along your breasts. A moment of clarity passed your mind that your body was different now than the last time you had been made love to, whether by your husband or not, since the baby. Your breasts weren't as pert, your stomach was softer than it used to be. Lips pursed, you let out a small sigh.

“What’s wrong darlin’?” Bing asked. The navigator leaned towards you, brushing a strand of fallen hair from your face. “You know I can read you better than any map.” Rosie stopped and rested his chin on your abdomen to look up.

“We can stop,” Rosie offered.

“No, It’s silly…” you tried to brush off.

Both men came to your defense immediately. Looking between the two you finally settle on your husband’s face. “It’s just that… since the last time we saw each other I’m different. My body changed and- I don’t know. I want it to be enough for you. For you both,” you add with a look to Rosie.

Crosby drops from the chair to his knees before you. “My pretty girl.” He kisses you slowly. “We’ve all changed.” From below Rosie adds nothing is the same. “You are still the most beautiful, most incredible, woman I’ve ever seen. Gosh - you’re my wife. Mrs. Crosby! I would fight to the ends of the earth to come home to you.” Softer he adds “I did fight to come home to you… and to bring this flak-happy bastard along too,” he laughed, nudging his elbow at his mate. “Now be a good girl and let us treat you right.” At your nod Rosie resumes his ascent down your waiting body.

With a flourish your panties are gone, your dripping center exposed to his hungry stare. “What does she like, Croz? Because I'm not stopping until she comes begging all over my tongue.” He licks a deep stripe along your slit. “Sweet as sugar, babydoll.” Gone is the man unsure of himself, and in place is a god amongst men who knows exactly what he wants. It’s all you can do to hold on as Rosie devours you at your husband’s suggestions. Fingers dig into the cushions, tangle into his curls as you writhe under him.

Rosie puts in his best effort to undo you; your husband saunters up to your face, his pants long forgotten. Cock stiff and ready, dripping with need, he runs the tip of his thumb against your bottom lip. Your teeth nibble at the pad. “Think you can take me too, darlin’?” A whimpered please is all that comes out.

A cacophony of moans fills the air as your senses are assaulted - Rosie latched to your pussy like a lifeline and your Crosby’s cock deep inside your mouth. “That’s it darlin’, just like that. I bet you missed me, huh? I can tell you did, sweet girl. Fuck I missed you….”

You gave him everything you had as you licked and sucked at his length. You could have sworn it was bigger than you remembered. He could tell by the look in your eyes you were getting closer, hell he was too. Lord knew he didn’t want to finish like some schoolboy in your lovely mouth. Crosby pulled himself out and you gasped for air. Cheeks flushed and sweat dripping down your temple he turned to his partner. “Use your fingers Rose, drives her wild when you crook them up inside her ‘n don't be afraid to get rough - give her a nip.” He punctuated the end of his command with a nip of his own to your throat. Rosie did exactly as instructed, sending you careening further to the edge and hips bucking.

“Oh- please Rosie- oh god don’t stop-” tumbles out as you start to fall. You swear you feel him humming against your clit as his fingers burn pleasure into your skin.

“That’s it darlin’, just let go for him. Being such a good girl for us,” croons your Bing.

When it all gets too much you gently push him from you. He goes gracefully, dropping chaste kisses to your thighs and hips. Despite feeling like a bowl of jello you remember your purpose tonight - to give Rosie a proper homecoming.

Sitting up you demand he rid himself of his trousers.

He grins. “Yes ma’am.”

Just as Rosie goes to cover your body again you place your hand on his broad chest, pushing until he is in a sitting position. You quickly seat yourself over his lap, his length resting against you. Grinding down, he grunts. “Let me take care of you Rosie, it’s okay.” Kissing his temple, the corner of his mouth, his Adam's apple, you repeat “I want to take care of you dear, let me.”

With another roll of your hips he enters you. He feels different than your husband, but no less wonderful. Rosie’s hands land firmly on your hips as you rock above him. He knows he won't last long, you feel too good. “God Croz how do you do it? She’s so- ugh fuck” he grunts, head tossed back as you squeeze his length.

“I know, Rose, I know. Just like heaven.” Your husband rubs your back as you move.

Rosenthal buries his face in the crook of your neck, his whimpers muffled so that only you can hear. There are no words for him to describe this feeling: the feeling of being comforted, the feeling of warmth, the feeling of home inside you, even if just for tonight. He almost feels a tear spring to his eyes. Circling your arms around his shoulders you remind him that you’ve got him, that he’s safe, that you're here. You pick up the pace as you ride him, bringing him closer and closer to his fate. His pelvis bucks up to meet yours with every roll.

“Honey I- I’m getting real close.”

You seal your lips on his; “I’ve got you, Rosie. I want you to come for me dear.”

With a deep groan he lifts you off his cock, his spend covering your stomachs and lap in a sticky mess. You hold him as he comes down from his high.

“That was wonderful, thank you…just, thank you.” You kiss him once more; he knows he doesn’t have to thank you for anything, but he does because he’s Rosie. He carefully cleans you of his come with his discarded undershirt.

Crosby drops his lips to the crown of your head, beginning to pull the pins out of your carefully styled hair. “Come here, Darlin’.” He helps to lift you from his colleagues’ lap. “I wanna make love to my wife.”

In seconds you’re on the floor under Crosby, his cock already buried to the hilt within you. Neither of you move as you both enjoy the feel of each other reunited as husband and wife. Whispered streams of I love you and I missed you and fuck you feel so good tumble from your lips, barely an inch apart. Harry would never need a map to know the curves, the sensitive spots, the constellations of beauty marks on your body - he knew it better in his memory than any map he could chart.

Besides you on the couch Rosie has slumped over to lay down, his arm hanging off towards you. Every breath of your husband’s puffs against your neck, every tickle of hair from across his chest reminds you that he’s here and he’s alive and he’s yours. Emotion overwhelmed you; “Bing, love please, I need you.”

Crosby hitches your thigh up and around his hip; “I’m here Darlin’.” With that he starts to thrust within your walls. His lithe body moves with a power you had nearly forgotten. Each roll of his hips he pounds into you harder, faster, with abandon; his dog tags cool against your breasts where they hung. Harry was a gentle man, but held so much emotion inside. He could let go with you.

Your next orgasm was building, hotter and faster than the first. Nails raking down your husband’s back, you reached out your other to grab hold of Rosie’s outstretched palm. The slap of skin echoed around the room, mixed with the crackle of the fire and the sound of heaving breaths.

An inferno raged within you. Every touch, every movement atop you sent sparks down every nerve ending. You didn’t know where you stopped and your husband began. “Fuck Bing mmmm- Harry please-” The rug beneath you rubbed your back raw but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as long as he kept going.

Crosby had his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit in an instant. “Tell me you’re close, I need you to come Darlin’.” You couldn’t catch your breath so you nodded the best you could while squeezing the life out of Rosie’s fingers.

Another snap of his hips and you’re gone, obliterated. Everything felt euphoric and white-hot. Crosby follows suit, his release filling you and your name on his tongue. Bruises will surely linger on your thighs.

There you lay, tangled in the afterglow, your loving husband above you stroking his knuckles against your side and your new lover’s hand in yours. No words needed to be spoken. The moment you shared would be seared into your mind forever playing on repeat. God forbid another crisis happened that would ship your boys out and away from you - yet if it did you would hold on to tonight like a talisman. It had been a long four years, and longer so for them. But the war was won, with spoils a plenty.

Finally.

Lips meeting your Bing’s sweat-slicked forehead, your grip on Rosenthal tightens. “Welcome home my boys, welcome home.”

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#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fanfic #robert rosie rosenthal #harry crosby #harry crosby x reader wife x rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal smut #harry crosby smut #masters of the air smut #anthony boyle #nate mann #anthony boyle smut #nate mann smut #scuttle-buttle

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