#Lil (Masters of the Air)

[basilone]

"You know, if this whole thing ended, and there were only two pilots left up in the air... it'd be me and it'd be you, Buck." "Don't count on it."

[majoregan]

Just MOTA boys (mostly Croz and Bucky, my lil yappers) with some of my favorite tweets.

[rcbertleckie]

MASTERS OF THE HAIR · bucky edition

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Masters of the Air - "Part One"

9/?

[4o4notf0und]

“I wish more than anything it was him sitting here and not me ...”

[partygatorresurrection]

harry crosby as misc: 1/???

[anachilles]

Hi! Love your writing 🥰

Requesting a BuckxBucky Drabble with the prompt for “SCAR” from the list you shared if you have the time! ❤️

[ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender traces a scar on receiver’s body

hi!!! thank you so much!!! 🫶✨

Half-dressed, Gale appears in the doorway between their bedroom and the en suite, his expression caught somewhere between sheepishness and wearied resignation.

He looked so endearing in the mornings, though, Bucky had always thought so. All rumpled blond hair, heavy eyelids still clinging on with a white-knuckled grip to sleep despite forcing himself awake, and rosy cheeks that could’ve rendered him almost childlike if not for the fair, freshly grown-in stubble accompanying the colour.

Bucky knew all too well he was lucky that he got to see this version of the impeccably well-groomed, notoriously composed Major. He did the world and everyone in it a favour sharing Gale with them, but this version was just for him and he held the image close to his chest for safe keeping, tucking it firmly into his inner breast pocket.

Now, irritation etched into the tense line of his mouth, Gale glances down at where his wrist up to his elbow is plastered up, hoisted up and held in position by a fabric sling. Bucky follows his gaze, swallowing hard past the concern that’s urged forth. Gale says nothing but the wordlessness is heavy, expectant.

“You need some help?” Bucky says quickly, half-imploring but trying not to sound too imploring or overbearing about it, helping him out and extrapolating from the silence. It’s been like this ever since it’d happened, Gale needing a bit of help but not wanting to admit it, and Bucky physically incapable of resisting the urge to help him anyway.

To think that this was a man who’d gone to war, flew bomber planes over Nazi-occupied Europe in broad daylight, been shot down and had to bail out of one of said planes and hurtle to earth before spending the next 18 months in a prison camp, escaping from all of that with barely a significant physical injury to show for it.

To then break his wrist tripping over a pair of shoes in their own goddamn house.

“Please?” He gives in, shirking Bucky’s attention, quickly turning back into the bathroom before Bucky can even get to his feet.

Anytime. Anything. Always.

Gale’s shaving kit’s already laid out on the counter when he follows him in. The man himself is futilely fiddling about with a can of shaving cream, which Bucky slips from his hand with an affectionate “get”, and then, “I’ve got you” when he prompts Gale down onto the edge of the bath tub with a probing hand on the shoulder.

He quickly sets to work, lathering up the cream before swiping it gently across the other man’s face. His hands shake sometimes, ever since the war, but today, for this, they remain gratefully steady with the delicate task at hand.

Even when it means driving a blade across the two twin shrapnel scars symmetrically etched into each of Gale’s cheeks. A permanent remnant of the war, a lifelong brand dealt by the Nazis that he’d be forced to wear every single day. One that he couldn’t run away from so long as he had mirrors he had to look in, or panes of glass to catch his reflection in anyway even if he tried to avoid the former.

One that Bucky will spend the rest of his life endeavouring to recontextualise, or at the very least disarm, through pure, unadulterated, unrelenting love. Frequent kisses, reverent thumb strokes when he held Gale’s beautiful fucking head in his hands, and affectionate bumps with the tip of his nose even if only to get the other man’s attention.

They all had their scars, everyone who went and sacrificed whole parts of themselves (and often, for so many, so much more) for a cause much bigger than themselves or anything they could’ve imagined. The rest of them could hide them, cover them up and at least be able to pretend for a while they weren’t there.

Gale had to bear his.

“Looks good to me…” Finishing up the shave, Bucky takes a towel and starts wiping away the remaining suds and wetness, the fabric pausing for a half a second over the jagged white line on the right side.

“Thank you,” He sounds less tense, but tired; like he needs the coffee he clearly hasn’t had yet. The words ghost across Bucky’s wrist, Gale’s breath featherlight on his skin, and he’s suddenly stricken with gratitude in the intimacy of the gesture; of the moment.

Bending down, he retakes Gale’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, replacing the towel with his lips and pressing them into the mottled flesh.

A sign that he’s still here.

That he made it out.

That he’s alive and has the scars to prove it.

[coldarena]

for they sow the wind, they shall reap the whirlwind

[fishyapple]

clegan a/b/o verse

gale is the local high school physics teacher who keeps his omega status a secret, lest he wants his son, lucas, taken away from him and his job revoked.

he's been doing a pretty good job at it, until now. lucas has found a new best friend in Benjamin "Benji" Egan, who's father is the loud and attractive alpha on the PTA who all the single omegas seem to oggle at. gale has never paid him any attention until Benji starts coming over pretty regularly, and by default, his father too.

and it all would be completely fine, if gale hadn't forgotten to change out his scent blocker the one day that week Benji and his father were coming over for a playdate.

“I thought I was going crazy.” John breathed into Gale’s ear. 

Gale felt, more than heard, whatever John was saying, too distracted by the warmth of the other man on his back. 

Gale’s hands were placed flat on the kitchen counter, the knife and apple slices forgotten. There wasn’t much that was going on in Gale’s mind at the moment apart from the aching want of John’s hands on his body. It didn’t matter where anymore. 

“Hmm,” he hummed as he tried to think of anything except for the man so close behind him, so dizzyingly close, and the scent. God his scent. John’s was different from most alphas, who had a musky, almost heavy scent. John's was softer, sweeter, but no less heady. A bit of pine, and something clean smelling, it made Gale almost want to keen. 

One of John’s hands came up to rest against Gale’s hipbone, and Gale inhaled sharply. He felt John step closer, chest to back now, with the other hand coming up to the front of his abdomen. Gale found himself leaning back to the alpha’s chest, and John’s fingertips left a fire blazing on Gale’s front as they dragged across. 

The hand on his abdomen ran up the column of his chest, and then to the base of Gale's neck. Gale could only sigh and close his eyes at the contact with the other man. It had been so long since he had let himself be so enveloped in another’s presence. 

John’s hand gently crept along Gale’s neck, coming to rest below his chin. The alpha gently tipped Gale’s head back so that it was leaning against John’s shoulder. With the new angle, John burrowed his nose into the column of Gale’s neck, inhaling deeply at his scent gland. 

Gale found himself unable to resist to any capacity. He didn’t think he would have even if he wanted to. 

  “You are an omega.” 

A rush of clarity ran through Gale, and he turned swiftly around so he could meet John’s eyes. 

“You wouldn’t-” Gale stuttered, momentarily lost looking into the cerulean blue that was John’s eyes, “Please, you can’t tell anyone.” Gale breathed, now with fear lacing his words. 

John’s eyebrows knit in confusion. 

“I would never,” The alpha replied, one hand coming up to rest against Gale’s cheek, the other still resting firmly on the omega’s hip.  John’s thumb brushes his cheek gently back and forth. “Just tell me one thing.” 

Gale nods, trying to dislodge the pit he feels in his stomach suddenly. 

“Tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way.” The alpha whispers.

Gale blinks in surprise, and then thinks back to all the times John has come over. How helpful the other man was with just chores around the house, offering to pick up the boys from school, helping make breakfast whenever Benji slept over. But most peculiar had been the stares, when Gale had felt like there were a pair of eyes burning holes into his back. He had previously thought John found his story suspicious. The lack of a wife, no marriage certificate or divorce, and hardly any pictures hanging in the house. 

It was all friendly if Gale had been an alpha, which is what he let the rest of the world believe. But Gale had always shivered at the way John looked at him, like there was a hidden meaning beneath those eyes. 

Gale looked at those eyes now. Deep blue and twinkling. In lieu of a response, Gale simply surged forward and captured John’s lips with his. 

The blonde could tell he had caught John by surprise, but the alpha was nothing if not enthusiastic in return. John pressed into Gale greedily, one hand winding around Gale’s back and the other caressing his head, angling his head to the side to allow for a deeper kiss. 

Gale found his hands carding through John’s hair, tugging at the brown strands and hearing John make a low moan which shot down to Gale’s core. 

John brushed the discarded apples to the side, but carefully placed the knife into the sink.

“Can’t let you get cut now can we?” He smirked before lifting Gale by the waist and settling him down on the countertop. Gale let out a grunt of surprise at his feet now dangling away from the floor, but chuckled after looking at John’s smug smile between his legs. 

“You are nothing if not considerate.” Gale said, before wrapping his legs around John and pulling him in for another kiss. 

Gale let out a breathy sigh as he felt John hands sneak below his shirt, his fingers drawing dangerously close to Gale’s chest. The blonde broke the kiss with stuttered breathing, and caught John’s hand before it ventured to the point of no return. 

“Wait, the boys are still–” 

“DAD!” Footsteps thumped down the staircase. 

The two men almost vibrated out of their skin at the speed they jumped apart, just as two pairs of feet ran into the kitchen. 

Gale cleared his throat with a cough, and John suddenly found a new interest in the refrigerator pictures. He had never noticed how much of an artist Lucas was until now. 

“Can we have apples now?” Benji asked innocently, without a care for the air of tension in the room. Lucas however, first looked oddly at John, before noticing the way his dad wasn’t meeting his eyes.

“Dad, why are you sitting up there? And why’s your face so red?”

[mercyedes]

-> from jordan coulson's insta story

[basilone]

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear @shoshiwrites, happiest of birthdays to you! 💙🌼🥳

[softspeirs]

hiya katie! i hope you're having a lovely evening. could i please request "27. — boxes" for....ellie and bucky, please? (or anyone you are feeling!) <3 — @shoshiwrites

A/N: Hiya Sho! I had another person ask for more of Bucky and Ellie as they settle into their relationship, so combining these two prompts if that's ok! This one is another lil interlude. Pals, I'll take more prompts from this list if you've got 'em!

When the box first arrived on Ellie's doorstep courtesy of the mailman, she set it on the kitchen table and refused to look at it for the rest of the day.

She'd stop by the cluttered table and pretend it wasn't there, worrying her thumbnail with her teeth.

"D'ya think it's a bomb?" Her brother whispers in her ear, and she jumps.

"You startled me!" She smacks at his arm, and he laughs as he ducks out of the way.

"What are we looking at? Mail?"

"It's not just mail," she says, exasperated. "It's-- it's from John's--"

Her brother picks it up, an absolutely irritating smile growing on his face. "His mother!" He squawks, shoving it at her like she hadn't already realized where it had come from, seeing the Wisconsin postmark. "Do you think he knows she sent something?"

"I suspect not, or if he did, he was too embarrassed to say anything."

Her brother laughs again, and Ellie flushes. "Don't you dare say anything when he comes for dinner."

"Aren't you going to open it?"

Ellie feels so foolish - she can't explain why she's so nervous. It's just that it's Bucky's mother, and it feels serious in a way that she wasn't prepared for.

(There's also a niggling voice in the back of her mind reminding her that John said he only got one or two letters from his mother while he was in the Stalag, and even though she doesn't know the reasoning behind it, it still makes protectiveness surge up inside her - she wishes Mrs. Egan would have sent a package to her son, instead)

It's hours later when Bucky - and Buck, she's delighted to see - arrive. Bucky has a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm, and he's laughing as he holds open the front gate for his friend.

She loves seeing him laugh.

She pulls open the door before they can knock. Marvels at how they mirror each other - both pulling off their caps, smoothing their hair.

"Majors," she drawls.

"Ma'am," Buck greets her with an amused half-smile. "Hope you don't mind I'm crashing your dinner."

"Of course not." Ellie steps closer to pull him into a one-armed hug. His arm tightens around her shoulder. "Go on in, Dad and Henry are in the kitchen."

Inside, introductions are made. Henry tries not to look too in awe of the Majors, but at fifteen, it's hard for him to hide it.

Ellie heads to the kitchen to finish up the last of the veggie pie she's been working on - the farmer down the way miraculously still had some butter on hand, and she's been babying a pie crust all afternoon.

She smiles to herself when Bucky's familiar footfalls sound behind her. His arms slide around her waist, and she grins, even as her cheeks warm.

"Behave yourself."

He hums. "Always."

She turns around to get a good look at him. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he smiles, and she hopes to see that look on his face for the rest of both their lives.

"Hello." She whispers.

He closes the distance between them. The kiss is light and chaste but still sets her heart racing. "Hi." He replies when they break apart. "You're sure you've got enough for one more person?" His expression turns concerned. "I don't want to put you out if you were planning on only feeding four."

"I have enough. You both need to eat, anyway."

He kisses her temple. "Too good to me." He mutters. He busies himself setting the table, and she hears the moment he stops short. Her eyes widen when she remembers.

"Oh!" She turns around quickly to find him frowning, the box already in his hand.

"Uh-- this is from..."

"Your mother. I got it today."

He looks at her, confused. "I... I have no idea what this is. How did she--"

Ellie fidgets. "I may have snooped the last time you left me alone in your room for a minute. I wanted your home address so I could write to her."

Bucky doesn't look angry or upset, he just looks so bewildered, Ellie could laugh. "You wrote to my..."

"Everything alright?" God bless Gale Cleven, Ellie thinks.

"Fine!" She says breezily, shoving a serving bowl and cutlery in his hands. "Set these out for me?"

He does as he's asked, but he keeps an eye on his friend. Ellie's heart clenches. She wonders how often he had to do this, had to study Bucky's expression to try to figure out if something was wrong.

"My mother sent El a package." Bucky says.

"Wedding dress?"

John gapes at his friend. Gale, on the other hand, is sporting a shit-eating grin not unlike the one Henry had earlier. "I-- we're-- why would you--"

"Relax, Egan. Just assumed."

"You think I wouldn't have told you--"

"It was a joke." Buck looks at Ellie for help. "That was a joke, Ellie."

"I know." She flaps her hands at her side uselessly. "I haven't opened it yet. I was... I was nervous! I know it's silly."

"Oh, god, Ma..." Bucky mutters, almost to himself. It makes a hysterical laugh bubble up out of Ellie. "You'd better go on then, I won't be able to eat unless I know she didn't send you my most embarrassing childhood photos."

"Neither will I." Gale deadpans.

Bucky hands Ellie the box across the dining room table, and she sets it down with nervous hands, reaching for her kitchen scissors to cut the ties.

Inside are a few bars of chocolate, which she knows Henry will swipe given half the chance, a small framed photo of Bucky in uniform, and a few sheafs of paper tucked into a brand-new leather bound diary.

She unfolds the letter first, muttering to herself about it being too much.

Bucky watches as her eyes well up as she reads, and feels himself practically vibrating as he tries to imagine what Mrs. Frances Egan has said to this woman he's pretty confident is going to be his wife one day. He's nervous and happy all wrapped up in one - he never told Ellie that he had written to his mother when he got back to Thorpe Abbotts to firstly reassure her that he was in one piece, but also to tell her that he thought he had found the woman of his dreams.

Knowing that Ellie had written to her without his knowledge... far from being upset that she kept it from him, he's touched because knowing Ellie, knowing what her own letters to him had been like, he knows she was writing to introduce herself, to tell someone important to him that she was taking care of him. He just knows it, without even having read the words.

"El?" Gale asks, and god if Bucky doesn't love seeing his best friend treat his girl like a sister. The quiet affection they have for each other already is like a balm for his soul after the last year and a half of a cold, gray, unfeeling existence.

"I'm okay," she insists, "It's-- oh, she's so nice." Ellie says, passing the letter off to John. "There's a page addressed to you; I didn't read it."

John still feels as if he's been whacked upside the head. This entire thing is so unexpected.

His mother tells Ellie (Eleanor, she had written) that she was so happy to hear from her, that she hopes Ellie has seen for herself that John was in one piece, and she talks at length about John's sisters. It makes him smile, to see how easily she's bringing Ellie into their lives.

The part, he's pretty sure, that had made Ellie cry was at the end. My son is so lucky to have someone like you to take care of him, though he'll deny he needs help at all. He's stubborn, but it sounds like you are as well. That's good - keep him in line for me. I've enclosed a journal and some stationary. Please keep writing if you'd like. The girls and I will be seeing you in person soon, I'm sure. I hope, anyway.

The page addressed to him is short and sweet. His mother writes in a vaguely threatening tone that he better make an honest woman out of Eleanor Peters soon. His heart rate kicks up when she asks if there's another, smaller box that she should send over soon.

Buck makes himself scarce after the table is set, with a knowing look at Bucky that makes him roll his eyes.

He walks over to Ellie, who is struggling to meet his eyes. He finds it so so endearing. "El." His fingers find her chin, tipping it up until she meets his eyes. "You wrote to my mother."

"'Course I did." She says, embarrassed. "Had to let her know her son was alive and well. You probably sent her half a page. 'Back from Stalag. In the hospital. Don't worry'", she mimics his deeper voice.

That pretty much is what Bucky sent home, but he doesn't admit it.

"Thank you. I hope this isn't-- I hope this didn't scare you off."

"It's too much. I can't accept this--" she says, but he's already shaking his head, hand sliding along her cheek until it threads through her hair, hand massaging her scalp in a way that is always so comforting when she does it to him.

"It's a gift. She wants you to have it, and honestly I'll be offended if you don't put that picture on your bedside table." He bats his lashes rapidly.

"Oh, shut up." She huffs, laughing. "Dinner is going to get cold."

He kisses her forehead, but lets her go, and they call her Dad, Henry, and Gale back into the dining room to sit down. Bucky regales her brother with stories while Buck chimes in once in a while to correct the record, much to his friend's chagrin, and over the rims of his glasses, her father grins at him.

This is the fullest their little house has been in a long time. Her chest tightens at the thought of leaving it behind, even if it is to go home with Bucky.

She tries to leave her worries for another day. In the meantime, she's already started to think of what she can send Mrs. Egan and her daughters in return.

Under the table, Bucky's hand finds hers, and he squeezes, like he can tell her brain is going a thousand miles an hour.

She smiles. She'll start packing a box in the morning.

[rcbertleckie]

masters of the air · part seven

[darlingroisin]

when the teacher calls you up to the board to solve an equation and you do it wrong so she has to talk you through it and the homies are in the back of the classroom giggling, & when she's done you gotta walk back to your seat and laugh too and pretend like you aren't embarrassed

[bucking-mustangs-with-wings]

ngl, i'm kind of devastated that we didn't at least get to see DeMarco re-united with meatball