#major john bucky egan x oc

[major-mads]

Chapter 5: The Dangerous Sky

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: We've been planning this chapter for months now, and it's so exciting to finally post it! It's another long one lol! Please comment or reblog and tell us what you think!! Thanks for reading!! <3

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 12.7k

Monday, August 23, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

Regensburg, Germany…the mission that earned the Hundredth its nickname was finally over.

Nine forts lost. 

Ninety men gone…just like that.

Ninety boys who would not return to their families. 

Among these ninety men was Curt. Buck and John were still in shock when their small group of officers tiredly pushed through the doors into their nissen hut. A few beds were made with fresh sheets, all remnants of their previous owners long gone.

The nightstands and walls that held the pictures Ruth had admired the week before were bare, a fresh slate for a fresh face that would be arriving soon. 

As he walked by Biddick’s bunk, Bucky couldn’t bear to look at it. The wound was still too fresh.

“Knowing Biddick,” he had told Buck in the Algerian desert,” He’s probably sipping on a bottle of schnapps right about now.”

Oh, how he wished he was right.

“Looks like you’ve got mail, Bucky,” Jack spoke up, pointing at the man’s bed that had a few letters thrown on the mattress.

Dropping off his bag with a thud, John sat on the edge of his bed and collected the letters silently, immediately recognizing the neat cursive handwriting on the front.

He let out a gentle sigh and smiled to himself, the corners of his lips curling just slightly. Flipping through the letters, he discovered that all three of them were from Ruth. 

August 17th, August 19th, and August 21st

John opened the first one, carefully unfolding the precious letter, and began to read.

John, Hope and I were barely able to sleep last night. Our worry for you both ate away at us, keeping us awake until the early hours of the morning. Based on what we’ve heard from Frank, that is around the time you were probably waking up in preparation for the mission. I pray for you constantly, John. I pray that God will look out for you, that He’ll protect you, and that He’ll allow you to come back to me. I also pray that Granny’s necklace does its job. Keep it close. I like to think that it’s a little piece of me with you. I don’t think I could imagine not seeing you again. My heart couldn’t take it. I’m afraid I have become very attached to you and your mustache, Major, so I am pushing this thought as far from my mind as I can. It has been difficult. As I sit writing this in the loud mess hall of our base, I can’t help but think back on the dance. That first night we shared with the buzzing crowd surrounding us…the way you calmed my nerves without a word, made me smile, made me laugh. You are unlike anyone I’ve ever known, John Egan, and I worry that you may never be rid of me if you continue to treat me so. I hold every second we’ve shared very near to my heart, and I can’t wait to see your handsome face again. If by some miracle you are back to base by the time this letter arrives, send me a response as soon as possible. I need to know you’re safe, Johnny. I’ll be waiting for you and your letter. Yours, Ruth Morgan

John could almost hear the nurse’s voice in his head reading her words, and his chest filled with warmth as he traced her name lightly with his finger. If he was being honest with himself, he was taken aback by her sincerity. No woman had ever expressed feelings like these to him before.

His relationships with women had always been about a night of pleasure, physical attraction with not much feeling behind it. 

But her words…

‘I worry that you may never be rid of me…’

Ruth was different in every way possible, and when he told her that first night, he had no idea just how much. Placing the letter onto his nightstand, he opened the second one from the 19th, his grin widening when he saw the first line.

Dear Hotshot, I wanted to be the first to inform you of the Yankees’ seven-to-five loss to the Indians today. Yes, I remember our truce, but seeing that you got one last jab on Monday before we parted, I decided that I had one left myself. This makes us even now. Now that that’s out of the way, I can revert to the loving sweetheart who is worried sick for your safe return. I really do mean it when I say you are always on my mind, John. I’ve managed to make it one singular day without seeing or writing to you before giving in and penning this letter. I simply need to get out my nerves and anxieties, thoughts and feelings, and this is the best way to do that. Hope and I went on an evacuation run yesterday, and as we were flying, we wondered if we were near the two of you. Did Buck tell you he proposed? Well, he didn’t technically, but he told Hope he wanted to marry her after the war. Needless to say, she’s been worried sick just as I have, maybe even more with Hugh gone as well (if that’s possible).

Eyes widening, John’s gaze rose from the letter and shot across the room to Gale, who was quietly talking with Hugh at his bunk as he unpacked his bag.

Why did he not tell him?

“Got any big news you wanna share with the class, Buck?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at him while holding up Ruth’s letter.

Gale confusedly looked over at him. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Rolling his eyes at Hugh, Buck sauntered over to John, standing over him with hands on his hips. “What are you talking about?”

“Mrs. Hope Cleven,” the older man grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

A bashful smile appeared on Gale’s face. “I’ve got a ring and everything, now. It’ll be after all this is over.”

Standing to his feet, Bucky pulled him into a tight hug and lifted him off the ground. “Whenever it happens, I better be the best man! That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“Yeah, yeah, you will be,” Buck chuckled as John put him down, releasing him from his grip. “Just don’t tell Hugh that.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Hugh shouted across the officer's hut causing Gale to groan. 

“Well, it makes sense. I am Buck’s best friend,” John retorted, sending a sly smirk Hugh’s way which only riled the man up further.

“Yeah, and Hope’s my sister. I’m his future brother-in-law.” 

Gale stepped back as Hugh stomped over to them, coming chest to chest with John who just continued to playfully glare down at him. 

“So what? You're a St. Louis fan,” Bucky pointed at him, a grin tugging at his lips. “That instantly makes you not best man material.” 

Hugh snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and I suppose you being a great Yankees fan makes you the right choice, huh?” 

“Absolutely,” John replied matter of factly. “How can you cheer for a team who lost 11-3 to the Pirates? The Pirates.” 

“At least we didn’t get shut out by the Indians.”

Gale knew this wasn’t going to end well. No one could insult the Yankees to Johnny’s face and get away with it...except Ruth, of course. Before John could find a comeback, Gale stepped up, moving to stand between the two men.

“Now, now. I’m not having you two fighting over being my best man. If it’s that much of a problem, I’ll make Demarco my best man and Meatball can be the ring bearer.” 

Neither of the men seemed too pleased with that outcome. 

“Not Demarco!” 

“Yes, Demarco.” 

John groaned, pursing his lips, and Hugh remained silent, looking at the ground solemnly at their childish behavior. 

“You should choose whoever you want to be your best man, but-” John began with a nod before Hugh interrupted.

“Yeah pick who you want, Gale. Hope will probably want me to walk her down the aisle anyway so I’ll probably be in the bridal party instead.” 

John snickered with raised brows as he imagined Hugh in a bridesmaid’s dress, but he fell silent when Gale elbowed him in the ribs, shooting him a glare..

“Come here,” Bucky pulled Gale into another hug and slapped his friend’s back, “Congratulations, Buck! You’re a helluva guy.” 

“The best,” Hugh added. 

As they stood there celebrating Buck’s life-changing news, the trio couldn’t help but think of their close friend who wasn’t. Their group got even smaller…

“Curt…he would,” John cleared his throat and nodded, forcing down the emotion that threatened to creep up his throat. “He would be happy for you, Buck.”

Gale’s eyes met Bucky’s and they mirrored the same emotions…hurt, regret, sadness. The men who came back never talked about those who didn’t, and both of them knew this was the one time they would.

“Yeah, he would,” Buck breathed, one side of his lips barely turning up into a mournful smile.

Silence filled the air around them there for a few moments, all three stuck in their minds until Gale spoke up.

“That from Ruth?” Buck asked, gesturing to the letter in Johnny’s hand.

He nodded once and sat down on his bunk with a soft smile, suddenly remembering the last half of Ruth’s letter he still had to read. “I’ve got another one to read after this one. Then I’ve gotta write her back.”

As Gale looked down at his friend’s lovesick gaze, he smiled to himself and shook his head. If someone had asked him if John Egan would be rushing to read love letters and send a response to a woman, one woman, whom he’d been seeing over a month, Buck Cleven would’ve told them they were crazy. 

“Tell her I said hello,” Gale said quietly, patting Johnny’s shoulder before returning to his bunk.

He muttered, “Yeah, sure,” before his eyes found the paragraph he left off on. The major’s aching heart was soothed by her words as he continued to read them.

We have been busying ourselves around the base, finding things to keep our mind off the fact that we don’t know where you are…if you’re safe. I’d like to think I’d know in my heart if you were gone. I pray I don’t ever have to face that feeling. Take care of each other wherever you are, alright? I know you watch Buck’s back like he watches yours, Johnny. Keep an eye on Hugh, as well. We both know he can be a troublemaker…like someone else I know. He, however, doesn’t have someone to reel him back in when he gets a little too crazy like you do. I know I’m writing this like you will receive it where you are right now, and not when you return to base, but I’m doing so because it’s the closest thing I have to talking to you.  I miss you, John. Please write when you get this. Praying for your safe return, Your Ruthie 

Scooting onto his bunk more comfortably, Bucky leaned back against the wall and opened the last letter. It was dated just two days prior, so at her current rate, another would be sent before his could reach her. 

My Hotshot, Please come home soon. The past five days have been torture. I go to see if I’ve gotten mail every single day, and each time, I leave a little more disheartened than I came. I feel my heart can’t beat inside my chest until I know you’re safe. I know you’re doing your job…a job that has to be done…but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’m sorry, John, but I don’t have too much time to write. We’re about to leave on an evac run. I long to hear your voice and feel your warm touch. Don’t forget your promise, hon. Come back to me…sooner rather than later. I can’t handle two boyfriends, remember? Missing you, Your Girl

Johnny swallowed thickly, lowering the letter to his lap as his mind raced. He knew that it very easily could’ve been him that went down that fateful day over Regensburg…it was all luck. 

There was a bigger chance than he’d like to admit that he’d go down, that they’d all go down, and the thought of never seeing Ruth again brought a burning to his chest. Reaching up, he grasped the necklace around his neck beside his dog tags, feeling the coolness under his fingers. 

Her Granny’s necklace sure did its job.

John brought the cross to his lips, kissing it softly as he silently thanked Virginia Morgan up above for the good luck.

Once the letters were carefully stored in the growing bundle of her correspondences he kept in his nightstand, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and a pen. Using his book as a backer, he began to write.

Ruthie, Hey, sweetheart. I’m glad that you kept your promise about the letters, and I’m also glad to say that I’ve managed to come back to you in one piece. By now, you’ve probably read about the raid in the papers. It was a tough one, and reading your letters helped more than you’ll ever know. Thanks for telling me of Buck’s “proposal.” The chump hadn’t even told me about it! So much for a best friend, right?  He says ‘hello,’ by the way.  Hugh thinks he has a chance at best man, but we all know that’s not gonna happen. You’ll be the maid of honor and I’ll be the best man…I can see it now: Buck crying like a baby and you looking like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve missed you, Ruthie. I still can’t believe that a wonderful woman like yourself would ever spare a poor sucker like me the time of day. Each time we part, I find myself replaying our every moment spent together. When we were stuck in the Algerian desert under the scorching sun, my thoughts always wandered back to you.  Your skin, your hair, your smile, your lips…the way you make me laugh. You are unlike any woman I’ve ever known, Ruth Morgan, and if I am never rid of you (as you wrote), I would consider myself the luckiest man in the world.  Stay safe up there on your runs for me. Your Hotshot, John Egan P.S. Tell your other boyfriend that I’m back and not willing to share.

Saturday, August 28, 1944: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base

John, Gale, and Hugh were riding from their nissen huts to the mess hall when the familiar roar of a C-47 filled the air. The sound meant their girls were on base, and it filled them with excitement as they peddled faster towards the landing strip. 

“Did you know they were coming today?” Buck asked, quickly glancing over at Johnny and Hugh.

John shook his head, a lazy grin curving his lips. “No, Ruth didn’t mention it in her last letter.”

Gale nodded to himself but couldn’t shake the feeling deep down that something was wrong. As they approached the airstrip, Colonel Harding appeared, calling out to John.

“Bucky! I need to talk to you,” he yelled from the balcony of the nearby flight tower.

Holding in a groan, Johnny nodded at Hugh and turned his bike toward the tower. “Tell Ruth I’ll see her in a minute.”

It all happened so quickly.

The flight had been uneventful. 

All their patients were stable, and Frank and his fellow pilot were singing together in the cockpit. Hope and Ruth had taken their seats and were enjoying resting their legs for a while. 

That was until the Ack-Ack’s had started firing.

Hope hissed, resting her palm against her injured thigh as she slid out of the plane. The bloodied bandage did nothing to stem the steady flow of thick blood. It hadn't been gushing with a constant flow but seemed to increase as her heart pounded faster and faster in her chest. 

Memories of the shrapnel piercing her thigh, having pranged around the aircraft before embedding itself into her, flashed in her mind. Looking back, she shouldn’t have pulled it out, but despite Ruth’s protests, she was stubborn, and without the blonde’s quick thinking at applying pressure and a tourniquet, she wondered if this would have been a different situation. Hope hated feeling weak and not being in control, but her stubbornness could have cost her life. 

“You need to get that leg checked out, Hope,” Ruth glanced over, her usually soft features etched with fear and concern, but Hope, still being her stubborn self, shook her head. 

“Ruth’s right, Hope. It’s a bad wound and we’d all feel a lot better if you got it checked out,” Frank added, helping the blonde with getting a stretcher into the ambulance. 

“We need to tend to our patients first,” Hope shuffled over to the nearest man on a stretcher, quickly informing the stretcher-bearers of his condition before they carted him towards the ambulance. 

Glancing at his watch quickly, the pilot cursed under his breath. “I’ve gotta go radio the base and let them know what happened.” He pointed at Hope as he hurried off. “Get it checked.”

“Do you need that leg looked at, Miss?” One of the young men asked, “There’s room in the ambulance.” 

Hope shook her head, politely declining any assistance. That was until two familiar faces came rushing over, a mixture of fear, anger, and horror on their faces as they noticed the side of their C-47.

“What the hell happened, Girls?” Hugh asked, glancing between his sister, then Ruth, then back to Hope. “Shit! You’re bleeding.” He reached forward but Hope pulled away, shrugging him off.

“I'm fine, Hugh. It's just a scratch. I'll get it looked at later,” she dismissed him.

By now she could feel Gale’s eyes boring into her, his sharp blues missing nothing. He felt her discomfort as she hobbled along, trying to avoid resting her hand against the wound to draw attention to it. 

“That looks a hell of a lot more than a scratch, Hope,” Gale stepped forward to stand beside Hugh, his movements stiff and mechanical, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to act. “You’re covered in blood.” 

Hope looked down at her uniform, noticing that from her waist down both her legs were soaked in blood and she was beginning to feel lightheaded. “I said I'm fine,” Hope snapped, exasperated and in pain. 

She just wanted to do her job, why couldn't they understand that?

“What happened, Hope?” Gale’s eyes were dead serious as they watched her, clearly annoyed but wracked with concern. Hope just looked back at him, unable to move or speak for fear she might cry. 

“It was the Ack-Ack’s,” Ruth quietly spoke up, and the men turned to see her own blood-soaked uniform, her hands still shaking at her side. “The plane was hit by flak fire. A chunk of shrapnel went flying around… got Hope in the thigh,” Ruth sighed and let her gaze fall to the ground, knowing that Hope might not forgive her for the next part. “She pulled it out herself. We applied pressure and a dressing but she needs to see a doctor.” 

If looks could kill, Ruth would be six feet under the airbase by now. 

“YOU DID WHAT?” Gale cried out, his face white with horror but his sharp eyes burning in a way none of them had ever seen before. “Are you some sort of idiot? Everyone knows not to pull things out of a wound. You could have bled out.” Gale’s chest was heaving as he fought the anger that built up within him. His hands clenched in fists at his side as he continued. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” 

Hugh reached out to him, trying to cool the situation down but Hope intervened. 

“I had patients on board. I'm no good to them if I bleed out everywhere. I thought quickly and went with the best possible outcome.” 

Gale snorted, waving his hands out in front of him, “Of course you did. You thought of the best possible outcome for you. What about the rest of us, Hope? What would happen if you had died?” 

Hope sent him a hostile glare, jaw clenched and her lip curling slightly as she spoke, “Do you realize how selfish you sound?” 

Gale scoffed, “I’m selfish. Did you for one-second think of what we'd have done if you had died?” 

Despite being outside surrounded by wounded soldiers, you could have heard a pin drop. 

Hope’s eyes scanned over the group, looking into the faces of her friends and seeing the same hurt looks. Ruth’s face was still tilted toward the ground with closed eyes as she listened to the bickering. The fear, the explosions, and the sound of Hope’s pained scream replayed in the woman’s mind, and she felt like her heart was going to explode inside her chest. 

It was too much. It was all too much.

Ruth was vaguely aware of the rest of the group leaving the airfield, Buck trailing off after Hope as she stormed away, and Hugh marching off as well. She stood there silently, trying to keep herself from falling apart…

The second Bucky was dismissed by Colonel Harding, he jogged down the stairs to his bike outside. Pedaling to the airstrip, he could only think of Ruth’s smiling face that he would soon be seeing. The hum of engines reached his ears as he turned around the corner of a shortcut, and the sight of her familiar figure standing before the C-47 sparked even more excitement within him. A grin formed on his face and he pedaled faster, eager to greet her. 

As the plane came into better view, his smirk fell as he noticed a giant hole in its fuselage. Johnny’s gaze snapped back to Ruth, and when he looked closer, his initial excitement transformed into horror. The world seemed to blur when his eyes focused on the blood-soaked flight uniform that clung to her. Panic seized him, and without a second thought, he leaped off the still-moving bicycle, letting it clatter to the concrete behind him as he sprinted toward Ruth, his boots pounding against the hard ground.

“Ruth! Ruth, what happened?” he cried desperately, his voice echoing off the nearby buildings. 

Johnny reached her in a whirlwind, taking her face in his hands, his panicked blue eyes inspecting her face intensely, scanning for any sign of injury. He then moved to her torso, his hands running over her body frantically.

As his hands desperately searched Ruth’s uniform, his voice trembled with fear. “You hurt?”

For a moment, she didn’t respond, and then suddenly, her tear-filled eyes met his. The Major’s hands, once frantic in their search, were now pleading. "Ruthie, come on. Talk to me. I need to know you’re okay." 

She gently placed her hands over his, stopping him. “It’s not mine,” she finally whispered, her voice strained. “We flew into a flack field, and, uh, Hope. She got hit in the leg. Buck’s with her now.”

‘Ruth’s okay,’ John repeated in his frazzled mind. “She’s okay.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips and John wrapped his arms around her, pulling the woman into him tightly. Her head was tucked into his chest as uncontrollable tremors ran through her body. 

“You’re okay, doll. I’ve got you,” he murmured against her temple. “I’m here.”

His heart broke as he felt a sob rack through her body, her weak cries reaching his ears. “I-I was so scared, John. I thought we were gonna die.”

Bucky pulled back slightly and moved his hands to grasp her tear-streaked cheeks gently, her pain-filled blue eyes nearly tearing him apart. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered, leaning down to meet her gaze as he wiped her tears softly with the pad of his thumbs. “You didn’t, okay? It’s over now. You’re safe, Ruth. It’s over.”

She took a shaky deep breath, trying to calm herself, but another cry fought its way up her throat and the nurse let out a choked sob. With each breathless gasp that left her lips, Ruth’s heart pounded faster and she suddenly felt her chest tightening.

John knew what the startings of a panic attack looked like, and he tried to recall how Franny had taught him to calm Lena down all those years ago when they were teenagers. Seeing Ruth’s usually bright and loving personality in such a fearful and panicked state sent his mind into overdrive.

“Ruth,” he urged, his hands still cradling her face. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Her watery gaze met his, her breaths coming out in short uneven gasps. 

“I need you to breathe.”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, John nodded at her with raised brows, worry etching his face. “With me, now.”

Ruth shook her head. “I-I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” the Major asserted firmly, reaching for her hand and holding it against his chest. “Feel that? Breathe with me. In…” he breathed through his nose. “And out.”

After a moment, she shakily followed suit, her eyes never leaving his. The warmth of John’s hand enveloping hers and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her touch grounded her in the moment. Gradually, her breathing began to regulate, the erratic gasps giving way to steady inhales and exhales. Johnny watched her closely, his eyes searching for any signs that the attack might return.

“There you go,” he murmured. “Just keep breathing with me, doll.”

With each measured breath, Ruth felt the tightness of her chest gradually ease, the weight of her fear lifting. After a few minutes, her breath completely steadied, and the panic attack passed, leaving her drained but calmer.

Ruth leaned into John’s comforting embrace, her forehead moving to rest against his chest as she let out a shuddering sigh. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “I-I’m sorry you had to see me like this, covered in blood and…and a mess.”

John placed a soft kiss to her temple. “None of that. You’re okay. That’s all I care about.”

As she stepped back into his arms, her eyes welled up with tears once more. “But look at you,” she protested weakly, gesturing to the smears of blood that marred his brown button-up undershirt. “I’ve ruined your shirt.”

Bucky shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “This old thing? I’ve got a million of ‘em anyways, Ruthie. It’s just a shirt. Wasn’t even my Sunday’s best,” he reassured her gently. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t wear my lucky jacket today.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.  “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and slowly led her toward the nearby operations building, still feeling her body shaking beneath his touch. As they turned the corner, they were met with Bubbles walking past a jeep. His face scrunched in concern and the usual smile fell from his lips at the sight of the bloodied woman. 

“Shit! What happened, Bucky?” he asked, quickly approaching them. “Do I need to go get Doc Stover?”

“No,” Ruth piped up, mustering the best smile she could. Even Bubbles could see straight through it.

John shook his head. “We’re alright, but I’ve gotta take your ride, Bubbles. Sorry.”

“Oh, that’s not mine. It’s Kidd’s.”

“Even better,” he smirked, opening the passenger door for Ruth before climbing behind the wheel. “Tell him I owe him one.”

Bubbles raised a brow with a barely concealed grin. “He’s gonna be pissed, sir.”

“Ehh, he’ll get over it.”

Nodding, the lieutenant turned to enter the building, but Bucky called out to him. “Oh! Bubbles, could you grab my bike? It’s somewhere near the ‘47 back there. Tell Jack it’s his for the day! Thanks!”

As the jeep roared to life, John tucked Ruth under his arm much like he did the night of the dance, and then they were off. She laid her head on his shoulder and her eyes slowly fluttered shut, sleep calling to her after the day’s events.

John peered down at her with a saddened smile as he took in her splotchy face and the blood that seemed to coat the bottom half of her uniform. Some of it even clung to her hair, the light blonde strands covered by the sticky, maroon substance. 

As he felt her finally relax in his hold, he let out a shaky breath, his heart finally beating regularly in his chest again. The Major knew how terrifying flack encounters were, and he was trained in how to handle it…well, he was used to it. Ruth, on the other hand, was not. It was her job to keep men alive while in the air, not worrying about being shot out of the sky by some German on an anti-aircraft gun.

Rage bubbled from within him at the thought. If the blast was just a little closer, there was a chance that he wouldn’t be holding her in his arms. If one more-

“I missed you,” she murmured, breaking Bucky from his thoughts as she nuzzled into his shoulder. “I was so worried about you, John.”

He took a steadying breath, pushing down his anger as he ran his hand along Ruth’s arm softly. “I missed you, too, doll. And I guess we’re even now, ‘cause I think I just lost ten years of my life back there.”

A tired laugh escaped her lips. “Imagine feeling that way for 9 days.”

Johnny could hear the exhaustion in her voice, and he squeezed her shoulder, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her hairline.

“Get some shut-eye, alright? We’ve got a stop to make before we go back to my hut.”

She nodded against him as her eyes fluttered closed again, sleep quickly overtaking her. 

As she slept soundly under his arm, he pulled up to a hut with a familiar figure smoking outside. “Miss Tatty,” John whisper-shouted, careful not to wake up Ruth. “Could you do me a favor?”

Raising a brow, she took a drag of her cigarette and approached the jeep, her smile falling when she saw the nurse’s bloody figure beside him. “She alright?”

“Flack hit her stick,” He sighed, running his free hand down his face. “She’s alright, but Hope got pinked in the thigh. Scared her half to death.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Could you find some extra clothes for her? She’s gonna need some fresh ones.”

Tatty nodded at him, a determined expression gracing her face. “I’ll get some now.”

It only took the woman a few minutes to emerge from the hut with a small bundle in her hand. “This should be enough,” she said, placing the bag into the back of the jeep. “But please stop by again if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Tatty. I owe ‘ya one.”

A tiny chuckle left her lips as she pointed her finger between Ruth and John. “Just don’t screw this one up, John, and we can call it even.”

“I don’t plan on it,” he grinned toothily, putting the jeep back in drive and starting down the road again. John’s hut was across the base, and he spent the short drive tapping the steering wheel to the tune of One O’Clock Jump while stealing glances at the sleeping woman in his arms. 

When the jeep rumbled to a stop outside the officer’s hut, Johnny rubbed Ruth’s shoulder. “Wake up, doll. We’re here,” he said gently, a soft smile playing at his lips as she lazily sat up, blinking away the sleep in her swollen eyes. “You need to get washed up.”

Ruth lazily looked around them and realized where they were.  “How long was I out?”

“Not long. Only about half an hour.”

Her eyes fell to her lap, the slick blood still staining the uniform. She was suddenly aware of how terrible she felt. It was everywhere. On her skin, in her hair…

“I feel disgusting,” she whispered, holding up her red-stained hands. 

“I know, doll. Here are some clothes you can change into after you shower.” Bucky reached back and grabbed the small bag that Tatty had given him, squeezing her shoulder before getting out of the jeep. “Let me go grab my kit for you and I’ll be right back.”

The second the door shut behind him, Ruth’s gaze fell back down to her hands, on the crusted blood under her nails, on Hope’s blood. At the thought, a strike of anxiety coursed through her, and the nurse could feel her heartbeat speed up. The shaking of the plane and the sound of the hot metal flying through the cabin rang in her ears as she closed her eyes tightly.

Among the chaos in her mind, she heard Johnny’s calming words. 

‘I need you to breathe…in and out.’

Following his voice, she took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to calm her racing heart. Ruth repeated the action and ached for his comforting presence beside her. 

‘Breathe. In and out.’

Inside his hut, Johnny was strutting to his bunk when he heard a soft snore from his left. His eyes followed the sound to a bed across the room, a smile growing on his face when he realized it was Buck and Hope. Her dark hair was splayed on his chest, and Gale had an arm around her waist as the couple peacefully slept, their faces free from worry.

It was the most peaceful slumber Bucky had ever seen Gale have throughout their three-year friendship. 

He let out a chuckle under his breath and quietly gathered his shower pack, sparing them one last glance before closing the door behind him. As John emerged from the hut, Ruth’s eyes rose to his figure. His gaze locked with hers and he could once again see the worry in her blue eyes. He quickly approached the jeep but was stopped when someone called out to him. 

“Bucky?”

Johnny turned to his left, seeing Majors Dye and Veal jogging toward him with wide eyes.

“You good?” Dye asked, eyeing the smears of blood on his shirt. Bill just stared at him warily, the only emotion on his face visible by the slight crease in his brow.

 “I’m fine, boys,” Bucky replied with a smirk, his eyes floating to Ruth over their shoulder. “Thanks for the concern, but you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

The pair followed his gaze, sharing a silent look when they saw Ruth in the jeep. 

“Wait,” Bill spoke up gravelly, nodding towards John’s shirt. “Is that her blood?”

Scratching his mustache, John glanced at Ruth before lowering his voice and leaning closer to them. “No, but it’s Hope’s. Buck’s in there with her. They’ve both had a real shitty day.”

Dye nodded and sent her a sympathetic smile which she shakily returned. “We’ll tell the guys to steer clear for a little while.”

John could tell Ruth was teetering again, and he clapped Glen’s back, throwing a quick ‘thanks’ over his shoulder as he walked back to the jeep, his attention completely on his girl. He rounded the bumper to lean against the passenger side, offering her his hand. “Come on, let’s go get you squeaky clean again, Ruthie.”

Nodding silently, she let him lead her to the bathhouse. Ruth stood in the corner while he turned on the shower, the hot steam already fogging up the mirrors when he stepped back and held his shower pack out to her. “I-uh don’t know how hot you like it, so I just-”

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” she replied softly, taking the pack. ”Thank you.”

He stared at her for a few moments and took in the pure exhaustion on her features, his hand instinctively reaching up to push some hair behind her ear as he spoke softly. “I’ll be right outside. Gotta make sure no one sneaks a peek of my girl.”

Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss against her lips before backing toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, her voice stopped him in his tracks.

“John?”

He turned. “Yeah?”

“Can, um, can you stay?” she asked nervously, her eyes trained on the floor. “I don’t want to be alone.”

As Ruth’s request hung in the air, John’s mind went into overdrive. He felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks and his heart pounded in his chest. Swallowing hard, he struggled to find the right words. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” he finally replied softly. 

Even as he spoke the words, his mind was in turmoil and his thoughts spiraled out of control. John was unable to tear his gaze from her as she slowly began to unzip her flight uniform, revealing her red-tinged tank top underneath. When Ruth caught his stare, her cheeks flushed.

“Um, John,” her voice broke through the silence, her tone hesitant. “Could you…could you look away please?”

“Right,” Bucky muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the running water as he snapped out of his trance and spun to face the door. “Sorry.”

As she continued to undress, John tried to focus on anything other than what was happening behind him. He stared at the cracked cement floor, willing himself to remain composed, to keep his thoughts in check. When he heard the rustle of the curtain opening and closing, he let out a shaky breath as relief flooded through him.

Despite his efforts to focus on anything else, his thoughts kept drifting back to the woman on the other side of the curtain, her presence a constant in his mind. Bucky knew he should respect her privacy and give her a moment to decompress after the day’s stressful events, but the temptation proved too strong and before he could stop himself, he found his gaze drifting back to the shower.

John stole a glance through the opaque shower curtain, his body heating up at the sight of Ruth's silhouette moving gracefully beneath the spray of water. But as quickly as the temptation came, a wave of shame washed over him, and he quickly averted his gaze, chastising himself for his lack of self-control.

He traced the outline of her body in his mind, and then the shame came rolling right back again. Bucky knew he had to take his mind off of the woman…or at least try to…so he began to sing under his breath.

“Never saw the sun shining so bright,

Never saw things looking so right.

Watching the days hurrying by,

When you’re in love, my how they fly,

Blue days, all of ‘em gone,

Nothin’ but blue skies from now on…”

Ruth stood beneath the warm spray of water, letting it cascade over her weary body, washing away the dirt and grime of the day. The hot water soothed her aching muscles and eased the tension that had settled deep within her bones. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh of relief, allowing herself a moment of rest.

As John’s soft singing filled the air, Ruth couldn’t help but smile. His voice, though not the most melodic, calmed her frayed nerves and eased the knot of fear that had lodged itself in her chest. 

“John,” she called out over the sound of the water.

“Yeah?” Came his muffled reply.

“Could you sing a little louder?”

Bucky ducked his head with a grin and raised his voice, switching to a new song.

“And when I told them how beautiful you are,

They didn’t believe me. They didn’t believe me.

Your lips, your eyes, your curly hair,

Are in a class beyond compare,

You’re the loveliest girl that one could see…”

Ruth closed her eyes and let his deep voice wash over her, allowing herself to get lost in the rhythm of the song. 

“And when I tell them, 

And I’m cert’nly gonna tell them,

That I’m the man whose wife one day you’ll be.

They’ll never believe me. They’ll never believe me. 

That from this great big world you’ve chosen me!”

As she listened to him, she began to scrub the blood from her skin, feeling a wave of emotion course through her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the memories of the day flooded her mind, but John’s voice calmed her, and she rapidly blinked them away. She knew that she wasn’t alone…that she had someone to stay by her side…someone to take care of her. 

It took her a few washes to get the dried blood from her hair, and she sighed in relief when she could run her fingers through the strands without getting caught in a tangle. The water turned off with a click, and she stuck her head out the curtain, making sure only her face was visible. 

“Could you pass me my towel?”

Johnny turned back towards her and quickly averted his gaze as reached for her towel hanging nearby. “Here,” he said, extending it towards her without making eye contact before facing the door once again.

“Thanks,” she replied, accepting the towel and beginning to dry herself off.

Ruth quickly got dressed, making a mental note to thank Tatty later, and ran the towel over her sopping wet hair. Once fully ready, she spoke up, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

Turning towards her slowly, John’s breath caught in his throat as he took her in. Her short blonde hair was slightly tousled from the shower, its natural waves making an appearance, and her cheeks flushed from the heat of the water. Ruth wore some navy pants that fit her perfectly with a dark, oversized wine colored sweater. Despite the exhaustion that lingered in her eyes, Johnny’d never seen something as beautiful in his 27 years.

“Wow,” John chuckled, approaching her slowly and cupping her cheek. “Would you look at that. Damn gorgeous.”

Her cheeks flushed even deeper at his words, a shy smile tugging the corners of her lips as she leaned into his touch. “You’re such a flirt,” she murmured.

Without hesitation, Johnny leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss, his hand weaving into her blonde waves. As they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the bathhouse. 

As he slowly leaned back, Ruth’s eyes caught sight of the raised scabs on his nose, cheekbone, and forehead. She reached up tentatively, barely touching them as she inspected his face. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice laced with concern. “I didn’t even notice before.”

John’s gaze softened as he met her worried eyes. “Just a few scratches, Ruthie. Nothing to worry about.”

She nodded, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “Was it from Regensburg?”

The Major hesitated for a moment, the mental image of Curt’s plane exploding flashing in his mind before he could stop the thought. He nodded once and forced his face to remain neutral. “Yeah.”

Little did he know that the blonde could see the pain in his blue eyes.

Ruth shook her head, a frown tugging at her lips. “You’ve been taking care of me all day, and I-I should have noticed sooner. I’m sorry.”

He reached out, gently taking her hand. “Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “I’m really fine, doll. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

He forced all thoughts of the mission from his mind, focusing on the present.

“You’re lucky,” he smirked down at her, mischief floating in his eyes. “I don’t give free concerts to just anyone.”

Ruth couldn’t hold in a laugh at his remark and the soft sound echoed through the small room. “Well, lucky for you,” she teased back. “If you gave out tickets for free, nobody would show up anyway.”

John rolled his eyes playfully, his heart swelling with relief as he listened to Ruth’s laughter, even her small smile warming him from the inside out. It eased the tension and guilt in his chest and filled him with a sense of happiness that he couldn’t quite put into words. He leaned in to kiss her forehead gently, savoring the feeling of her soft skin against his lips.

“You feeling any better?”

“I feel clean,” Ruth sighed wistfully. “Tired but clean.”

Gathering all her used items from the bathroom, she threw them into the dirty bin in the corner of the room. Bucky took her hand and brought them to his hut’s door, holding a finger to his lips.

“What?” she yawned as he opened the door for her. “What are-”

She cut herself off when she spotted them. Buck and Hope were still sleeping in each other’s arms, and a wide smile formed on her face when she looked up at Johnny who was already peering down at her. 

‘Hope’s fine,’ she thought. ‘They must have made up.’

Ruth had to throw a hand over her mouth to keep in the excited giggle that threatened to escape her lips, and John shook his head, tugging her away from the couple to his bunk.

She sank into his bed and inhaled deeply. Ruth closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the scent of his pillow, a mixture of his cologne and the army-issue shampoo they all used. It was a comforting smell, one that made her feel at ease.

As Ruth settled onto the bed, John made his way to the footlocker at the foot of the bunk, rummaging around for a clean shirt. Turning onto her back, she stared up at him as his fingers loosened the knot of his tie, pulling it free from around his neck. He tossed it into his footlocker before moving on to the buttons of his brown uniform shirt, revealing the pink-splotched tank top beneath.

Ruth couldn’t tear her gaze away if she tried.

She watched in silence, her face burning as he shrugged off the shirt, exposing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. When he finally pulled off the tank top, leaving him shirtless, a lump formed in her throat and heat surged through her. 

‘Get it together, Ruth,’ she thought. 

John caught her gaze and smirked, raising an eyebrow as he placed his hands on his hips. “So you can look, but I can’t?”

Ruth sputtered for a moment, her cheeks turning an impossibly deeper shade of red, but John chuckled softly. “I’m just joking, doll. Look all you want.“

She couldn’t help but admire him openly, her eyes tracing the lines of his chest and the curve of his shoulders. He was undeniably handsome…she knew that. But seeing him like this took her attraction to a whole new level and her heart fluttered in her chest.

Ruth eyed the few things that dangled from his neck: his dog tags, a small Virgin Mary pendant, and her Granny’s cross. 

Ruth silently thanked her Grandmother for bringing him back to her. 

Grabbing a fresh shirt from his footlocker, John slipped it on and kicked off his shoes before settling onto the bed, sliding back to sit against the wall. Ruth shifted to make herself comfortable and rested her head on his lap as Johnny’s fingers brushed over her damp hair.

They talked quietly for a few minutes, their conversation meandering aimlessly as they both enjoyed the other’s company. Soon, Ruth’s eyelids grew heavy, and her words began to drift off mid-sentence. Bucky watched her fondly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as she slipped into sleep, her warm breaths against his thigh.

Sighing, he carefully reached for his beat-up copy of Guys and Dolls on his nightstand and began to read, holding it up with one hand. His other hand rested on Ruth’s head as he absentmindedly stroked her hair as he read, only lifting it to flip the page. 

‘Only a rank sucker will think of taking two peeks at Dave the Dude’s doll, because while Dave may stand for the first peek, figuring it is a mistake, it is a sure thing he will get sored up at the second peek, and Dave the Dude is certainly not a man to have sored up on you. But this Waldo Winchester is one hundred percent sucker…’

The only sounds filling the room were each of the four’s quiet breaths, and John was able to read a few chapters before he heard rustling across from him. He lowered his book to see Buck sitting up slightly, rubbing his eyes with a yawn.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty,” John grinned, his voice hushed.

Gale’s head lifted to get a look at his friend and a chuckle escaped him seeing Johnny with a wide-mouthed Ruth lying in his lap, her blonde hair covering his thighs. “Look at us.”

“Yeah. Who would’ve thought.”

Silence filled the air again as each thought of the woman beside them. A few moments later, John broke the stillness of the nissen hut. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s…She’s good,” Gale replied as he fought to keep a blush from his cheeks at the memory of their confession and what came after. “How’s Ruth?”

Johnny shook his head with a saddened sigh. “Real shaken up, Buck. You should’ve seen her earlier. I was…I was worried.”

“I know the feeling. She doin’ any better now?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Finally cracked a smile and seemed herself when she saw you two.”

A gentle smile tugged at Buck’s lips as his gaze drifted down to Hope who continued to sleep soundly. Her breathing was shallow and her nose wrinkled occasionally as she dreamed. At some point, she had moved her left hand to clutch onto his shirt and he could see the ring glisten in the dim light. “I popped the question.”

“So it’s official?”

“Yep. 

“Congratulations, Buck,” Johnny smiled, a brow raising a few seconds later. “I am gonna be your best man, right?”

With an eye roll, Gale nodded at him. “Of course, you are, lardass.”

“Good.”

“As if I could watch Hope walk down the aisle without you by my side.”

“Exactly. You'll be crying like a baby anyway. I’ll have to bring plenty of tissues,” John chuckled, pleased that a sleeping Hope was keeping Gale anchored to the bed. Otherwise, he thought something would have been thrown his way. 

“I can’t say you’re much better,” Gale pointed out, nodding his head toward them. “Look at you. Never thought I’d see the day that John Egan wrote love letters, much less something like this.”

John chuckled and thought about how different his life had been since that day in July. “Well, I finally found one worth writing to. Ruth…she’s uh, she-”

 As if she had heard her name, the blonde stirred on his lap, stretching and yawning loudly before her eyes made contact with Gale who smiled at her.

“Good morning, Gale greeted her, causing Ruth to blush. She hadn’t realized she had an audience watching her wake up and only hoped she hadn’t been snoring loudly. 

She rolled onto her back to face John and was met with a gentle smile and loving blue eyes gazing down at her. “Hey there. Feeling better?”

“Still tired,” Ruth sighed and sat up, rubbing away the sleepers that had accumulated in her swollen eyes. “But I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”

John had to hold in a laugh at the way her blonde waves stuck up in all different directions from where they had dried on his lap. “Well, your wish is my command, doll, so what do you wanna do?”

“What is there to do?”

“Have you seen the hard stands yet?” Gale spoke up. “Lemmons might even have Billy and Sammy over there.”

“Billy and Sammy?”

“Two little squirts that Kenny’s taken under his wing,” John answered with a nod.

At the mention of the kids, Ruth’s face lit up, and a wide grin grew on her lips. All evidence of sleep disappeared from her features as she excitedly clambered off the major’s lap and stood to her feet, brushing her fingers through her hair to tame the wild locks.

As he watched her, Johnny felt a pang of sadness at the sight of Ruth’s sudden enthusiasm. It hit him then, that she probably hadn’t seen many kids since becoming a nurse. As a teacher, she was surrounded by them every day, and now, their innocent faces were likely a distant memory in her mind.

“They’re a handful, those two,” Bucky chuckled, rising to his feet beside her. “But they’re good kids. Come on, let’s go see if Kenny’s putting em’ to work over at the hard stands.”

Walking out of the hut, the couple sent Buck a “thanks” as they walked by him. Ruth’s eyes fell on Hope’s still sleeping figure, her heart twinging at the memories of the morning, but she didn’t worry. Gale was there to take care of her.

John and Ruth spent the short ride to the hard stands talking about their weeks, and he almost let the news of Gale and Hope’s engagement slip a few times before they rumbled to a stop in front of Muggs’ hardstand. 

He was determined to keep his mouth shut for once. Bucky knew Hope should be the one to tell Ruth about her engagement, and he didn’t want to be the one to ruin the surprise.

Hopping out of the jeep, John’s eyes searched for Lemmons. “Kenny?”

Ruth glanced over at him skeptically. “He here?”

“Should be. He said he’d fix the old girl up today.”

They approached the fort, and Ruth was shocked by its sheer size. Yes, her C-47 was big, but the B-17 was different. Her plane carried supplies, people, almost anything…but this was a weapon. A weapon that took the fight to Hitler’s doorstep. 

It really did look like a fortress.

Ruth reached up and trailed her fingers along its yellow nose paint, the metal rivets cool from the chilly English air as she followed John to the small hatch just in front of the right wing. Before he could stick his head into the hatch, a small boy’s face appeared sideways out the hole. 

“Boo!” 

Both the adults jumped, Ruth more so than Bucky, and the man jokingly groaned. “Billy! I thought Lemmons was supposed to be keeping you out of trouble?”

“Did I scare you, Major?”

John raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you think?”

“Yes,” he giggled as another boy stuck his head out the hole.

Sammy.

“Whatcha think, Ruthie?” Bucky looked over at her with his hands on his hips. “They get me?”

She grimaced playfully and nodded. “He about jumped out of his boots, boys.”

They shared a shocked look, then broke out into cheers, their faces disappearing from the hatch. “Lemmons! We got him! We finally got him!”

 “They’ve been trying to scare me for weeks,” he explained, a fond grin tugging at his lips. “Finally got me.”

Before Ruth could respond, a pair of feet dangled from the hatch, and John helped each of the boys to the ground, setting them down in front of the couple. They went running off toward the tail, and then a few seconds later, a ground crewman hopped out of the hatch, his dark curls peeking out from under his beanie.

“So they finally got ya, huh, Bucky?” he asked.

“Looks like it,” he replied.

Ken’s eyes fell to Ruth beside John and he smiled, wiping his oily hands on a rag. “You must be Ruth! I’ve heard a lot about you.” He held out a hand, “I’m Ken Lemmons, but you can call me Kenny. I’m one of the ground crew chiefs.”

“Nice to meet you, Kenny. I hope you’ve heard good things,” Ruth answered, cheeks flushing at the notion that John had talked about her. She glanced up at him with narrowed eyes before shaking Ken’s hand. “There’s no telling what this one’s said.”

“Don’t worry,” Lemmons chuckled. “Only good things. I promise.”

Giggles sounded from the back of the plane, and Ruth leaned to see them, her gaze instantly drawn to the boys. Following her eyes, Ken called them over. “Come here! The Major’s got someone he wants y’all to meet!”

They bounded over, just noticing her presence even though she had spoken to them minutes before. 

John grinned and wrapped an arm around Ruth's shoulders as he introduced her to the boys. "Boys, this is Ruth. She's my girl."

The boys' eyes widened in disbelief, and Billy blurted out, "No way! You're way too pretty!"

Ruth busted out laughing at their innocence. "Ohhh, he’s not so bad once you get past the mustache…and the jacket…and the bad jokes…and-"

“Alright, alright. We get your point,” he groaned, pretending to be offended by dramatically clutching his heart. "Way to kick a man when he’s down. Besides, that’s a lie about the mustache."

She shrugged and ignored his question. “Nice to meet you, boys.”

They exchanged mischievous grins, clearly enjoying the banter. "Miss Ruth," Sammy said, using his hand to hide his words from John. "You’re way out of his league."

John still heard the comment and raised an eyebrow, playing along. "You think so? Well, I guess I'll just have to keep her around to make me look good."

Ruth nudged him playfully. "Smooth recovery, Major."

The boys shared another toothy and excited glance before launching into a barrage of questions. “Do you live on base? Are you a nurse? Do you fly planes? Have you ever shot down a Jerry plane?”

Ruth laughed at their enthusiasm, sparing John a blissful look as she felt almost at home in the kids' presence. “I’m a flight nurse, and no, I don’t live at Thorpe Abbotts. I fly in planes but leave the actual flying to the pilots. I just take care of my patients and leave the rest to them.”

Billy and Sammy listened intently, hanging on her every word. “Do you ever see any action?” Billy asked.

Ruth hesitated, the day’s events flashing in her mind, but a warm, reassuring hand on her back brought her back to the present. “Sometimes,” she replied carefully. “But most of the time, my friend Hope and I are too busy taking care of the wounded soldiers and getting them safely back home to notice.”

“Wow,” they marveled.

“So what do y’all do around here?”

Out of the blue, Sammy grabbed Ruth’s hand, tugging her from the men. “Come on, Miss Ruth! We have to show you the plane!”

“Yeah, you gotta see the tail gun up close!” Billy added eagerly, his toothy grin stretching ear to ear. “And the ball turret!”

Ruth glanced back at John before allowing herself to be led away by the boys. As he watched them go, he shook his head at how Ruth affected everyone she met…she was captivating.

Ken and Johnny began conversing about the Muggs’ repairs from the previous day, but the Major’s attention kept drifting back to Ruth. After the boys gave her a plane tour, the trio moved to a grassy patch nearby, plopping onto the ground with Ruth sandwiched between the two boys. They continued their animated conversation, and their laughter filled the air as she told a story of a soldier who got airsick and threw up on her shoes. 

As he watched them, a thought crossed John Egan’s mind. A thought so unexpected that it caught him off guard.

She’d make a great mom.

The realization startled him. He’d never entertained thoughts of a future like that before, never met a woman who made him long to settle down and raise a family. But there he was, watching Ruth with Billy and Sammy, and the idea didn’t seem as far-fetched as before.

Ken noticed Bucky’s distraction and nudged him gently. “She’s great with ‘em.”

“She is,” he breathed, grinning as the boys broke into another fit of giggles across the hard stand. “Ruth was a teacher before she became a nurse.”

“A teacher?”

“Yeah.”

Lemmons nodded. “Makes sense. What age?”

“Junior high.”

“Well, that’s how she can handle you, then,” Kenny laughed. “She’s used to wranglin’ 13-year-olds all day!”

John threw an arm over the younger man’s shoulders, jostling him lightly. “You know, you’re probably right,” he cackled, his eyebrows raised. “You’re wise beyond your years. Sometimes I forget you’re still a squirt yourself.”

Once Billy and Sammy had to go home for supper, the couple drove back to the Officer’s Hut to catch up with Gale and Hope. Later that evening, Hugh arrived with food for the two couples, Meatball following at his heels. The large husky made a beeline for Hope, greeting her at the side of the bed. 

“Hey, Meatball,” Hope mumbled, leaning as far as she could to ruffle the dog’s fur. Meatball groaned when she began scratching his ear, and he closed his eyes and tilted his head, expressing his enjoyment. “Who's a good boy?” Meatball hopped up on the bed, snuggling into Hope’s side. 

“You can keep him if you want. The damn thing keeps howling. It’s driving me insane,” Hugh complained, passing Hope a bowl of steaming soup. “When Demarco gets back, I’m giving him a piece of my mind, leaving me to watch his dog all afternoon.” 

Hope accepted the soup gratefully but could only manage a few mouthfuls until the wave of nausea washed over her once more, and she placed the bowl down. 

“Ugh, I feel so sick.” 

Gale was at her side in an instant, his hand resting on the small of her back as she bent over, head in her hands. Ruth looked anxiously at John from their seats on his bed and started to put down her bowl to help when Hope spoke up.

 “It’s okay, Gale, it’s just the morphine,” she reassured him, squeezing his hand, to which he pressed his lips to her shoulder blade. 

Hugh snickered, “He didn’t get you pregnant while I was away, did he?” 

“With us in here? Sounds like a nightmare,” John retorted, rolling his eyes at the same time Ruth grimaced from beside him. She knew a signature Hope Armstrong comeback was incoming.

Hope glared at her brother, ”The fact that you have so little knowledge on pregnancy concerns me for your future wife.” 

Hugh stuck his tongue out in response, “That’s not a no, though.” 

 The pillow from Gale’s bed was a near miss as it sailed past Hugh’s head, and he dodged it dramatically, glaring at his sister.

“Come on, with all the ‘Dear John’ letters Sparky gets, I’d be surprised if he ever settles down,” John joined in. 

“Look who’s talking, Bucky,” Hugh retorted, pointing at Ruth with his spoon. “At least I got letters. You didn’t get a single one before Ruth came along.”

“Really?” Ruth asked quietly, surprise etched on her face.

The Major nodded with pursed lips, pushing the vegetables around his bowl before looking over at her with a small smile. “There was no one worth writing to.”

The blonde’s cheeks heated at his words, and she got caught in his gaze.

From their position across the room, Gale and Hope watched the interaction with fond smiles, both happy to see their friends with someone who so clearly adored them. The moment was interrupted when Hugh burst out laughing. 

“Well, that didn’t stop you from-”

He was cut off when a pillow came sailing into the side of his face, knocking some of his soup onto his pants as the pillow fell to the bed. Hugh’s gaze flicked towards the cot the projectile came from, ready to yell at Hope, but he wasn’t expecting to see her wide eyes as she stared up at Buck in awe.

“Sorry, Charlie,” he shrugged. “It just slipped.” 

Ruth and Hope broke into chuckles, but John just sent Gale a thankful glance. Bucky then turned his attention to Hugh, and the two pilots glared at each other. John was frustrated about the cheap, low-blow comment, and Hugh was still clearly sour over the best man situation. They soon gave up and went back to their soup. John’s mind, however, got stuck on Hugh’s words.

Once they’d finished their supper, a knock sounded at the door. “Everyone decent in there? Girls?”

Frank.

“Uh, yeah,” John called, lifting an eyebrow at Ruth.

The door swung open, and the Captain walked in with his lips in a straight line. “Thought you two’d be in here,” he nodded before turning to Hope. “How’s the leg?”

“I’m okay. Still hurts like a bitch, though.”

“Did you get it checked?”

Her face shifted into a grimace at the question. “I took care of it.”

“You, Hope Armstrong,” he sighed. “Are the reason I drink.”

“You know you love us,” Ruth added, tilting her head with a grin.

Frank’s attention drifted to Ruth’s figure beside John. “And how are you, Ruthie?”

The blonde looked up at John, thinking of how he’d taken care of her throughout the day. “Better now.”

“Alright, enough of the lovey eyes, you two,” he called out to them, taking a deep breath and placing his hands on his hips. “The Angel’s out of commission, and the Grove can’t send anyone tonight with the blackout, so we’re stuck here for the night.”

Both couples perked up at the news, but Hugh just groaned.

“As much as I wish I could make you stay with the Red Cross girls, I know I can’t. So you two,” Frank pointed at Gale and John. “No funny business, okay? None.”

Johnny’s mouth twitched, almost quirking into a smirk, but he was able to hold it in as Buck replied with a “Yes sir.” 

“Zero funny business,” Bucky fake saluted from his bunk.

Running a hand down his tired face, Frank scratched his mustache. “Hugh, I’m counting on you to keep an eye on them.”

“Trust me, I will.”

“Alright. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

The door closed behind him with a slam, and they all visibly relaxed. Hope moved to shuffle back onto the bed beside Gale, the wave of nausea having passed when the door flew open again. 

A cool breeze filled the hut as five men strolled into the hut, apparently oblivious of the girls until the one at the front of the column spoke up. 

“Would you look at that? Major ‘no girls in the hut’ Cleven has a girl on his bed,” he pointed at Hope before the man behind him tapped his shoulder, causing him to turn and notice Ruth. “And Egan, too. Shit, I’m surprised Charlie hasn’t joined in.” 

Gale sighed, standing up and placing his hand on Hope’s shoulder, “Hope, Ruth, these are the boys.” Buck took a breath to introduce them, but John beat him to it. 

“DEMARCOO!!” John hollered, causing Gale to groan at his friend’s childish antics. 

The man at the front just smiled. 

“Egan,” he greeted him before motioning towards Ruth, “How did you manage to snag yourself such an attractive broad?” 

Ruth’s cheeks flushed under the other man’s gaze but John just chuckled beside her, “Must be my endless charm.” 

“Sure thing, Major,” Demarco snorted, his voice lowering to a whisper as he glanced down at Ruth. “Blink twice if you need help.” 

With a shove from John, Benny laughed and turned his attention back to Hope and Gale while Bubbles moved over to greet Ruth.

“Hi again,” Bubbles waved at the blonde with a kind smile. “Glad to see you’re feelin’ better, ma’am.”

Ruth nodded from where she was tucked into John’s side. “Me too. And call me Ruth, please.”

“Oh, your bike’s outside, by the way,” Bubbles added, looking over at Bucky and pointing toward the door. A smirk appeared on the lieutenant’s face as he stepped closer to the couple with a hushed tone. “Kidd was, uh, not amused, to say the least.”

“Like I said, he’ll get over it,” John remarked, glancing over Bubbles’ shoulder at the Major in question who was conversing with Bill quietly. “Looks like he’s over it now. Jack!” 

“Wait-” Bubbles tried to stop him, but it was too late.

“Thanks for letting me borrow your jeep today.”

Jack scoffed bitterly and sent Johnny a sharp glare. “When you stole my jeep, you mean.”

“Come on, Jack,” John groaned. “I left you my bike.”

“A bike and a jeep are nowhere near the same thing,” Kidd argued, shaking his head with a sigh as his gaze fell on Ruth. “I know today was rough, and I’m glad you two are okay. I saw your skytrain, and you’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

Ruth felt the familiar lump of anxiety growing in her throat, and she cleared it quietly, keeping her voice steady. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t do it again, Bucky,” Jack nodded.

“No promises.”

Kidd’s gaze shifted to Ruth with his brows drawn together. “How do you deal with him?”

“I have no idea,” she answered tightly, the anxiety still working its way up her throat. John inspected her face, noticing the way her eyes darted around the room.

“It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?” he asked, meeting her anxious gaze.

Ruth nodded as Bucky waved bye at Jack and ushered her out the door. When the pair exited the hut, they were met by a beautiful sight. The sun was setting over the base and vibrant colors painted the sky above the runways. Silhouettes of B-17s lined the horizon, and the distant rumble of engines, with the occasional chatter of ground crewmen, filled the air. 

Ruth took a deep breath and crossed her arms over herself, the warm sunlight on her face helping to calm her racing heart. 

“Sorry, I know that was a lot of people,” he said quietly. 

“It’s not that. Today’s been a lot,” Ruth sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears as she continued to stare out at the English countryside. “I just needed a second.”

They both silently watched the sun slowly disappear behind fields of wheat as far as the eye could see, each of their minds stuck on the day.

As Johnny stood beside her with his hands on his hips, Hugh’s comment about his past replayed in his head. Before he met Ruth, everyone knew he wasn’t particular about who he spent his nights with or where he spent them, and these women didn’t seem to mind either. But all that changed when Ruth walked into his life. 

Despite his pickup lines and physical affection, John wanted to make sure Ruth knew she wasn’t just another of his “floozies” as Hope called them. She had to know that he felt something deeper beyond physical attraction, something real for her...as real as he’d ever felt. 

Mustering up his courage, John took a deep breath and broke the silence of the quiet sunset. 

“About what Hugh said earlier, or started to say,” Ruth turned to him. “It’s no secret I’ve been around,” he confessed, his eyes falling to the ground. “I’ve been with women-”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted, placing a hand on his arm.

“Yeah, I do,” he urged, moving a hand over hers. “I’ve done things I’m not too proud of. But I’ve been trying to do better…”

John acted like he wanted to say more, but stopped when a conflicted expression appeared on his face. Sensing his apprehension, Ruth squeezed his arm reassuringly. 

After a moment, he decided to keep going, his voice laced with nervousness. “You make me want to be better. You make me feel…something…everything. The other girls were…I don’t know. Distractions, maybe? Something to keep my mind off of what goes on up there.”

As Ruth watched him pour out his closely guarded heart, she saw a glimpse of a man who wasn’t as secure and confident as it seemed. She saw a man who longed to be held, taken care of, and loved but was unsure how to go about it.

“But I like this,” John gestured between them. “I like us…a lot. Today made me realize just how much. And I-I don’t want to mess this up.”

Biting her lip gently, she stepped closer, reducing the already small gap between them. “I like us, too. I meant what I said in my letter, you know. About you not being rid of me.”

“I meant what I said, too,” he replied softly, tilting his head towards her as he gently placed his hands on her hips. “You’re a unicorn, doll. One in a million, one of a kind…however you wanna say it.”

Ruth’s hands slid up John’s chest and looped around his neck, her lips slowly curving into a small grin despite the burning sensation within her stomach. “Yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” John nodded as a line appeared between his brows. “I wanna do this right, and I’ve never-,” he paused, inhaling deeply. “I’ve never done this before…you know? Gone steady. But I care about you. So damn much. And I want that with you.”

“I want it too.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, the setting sun casting a golden hue on John’s face as he held her in his arms. 

“Good,” he finally sighed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled down at her. “Cause I didn’t have a plan B if you rejected me.”

Ruth chuckled under her breath and shook her head. “I could never reject you. I’ve been letting you kiss me for almost a month now, remember.”

“Well, you’d be surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She rolled her eyes, meeting his gaze again to find him searching her face for some answer to a silent question.

“So…what happens now?”

“Well,” Ruth whispered, her eyes flicking to his lips. “I was expecting you to kiss me, Major, but-”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he quickly replied, tugging her flush against him and landing his lips on hers. It was a gentle kiss that confirmed their deep attachment to the other, and their future together.

Pulling away, Ruth answered his question out of breath, her words coming out in shorts pants. “How about we take it slow and see where it goes?”

Shaking his head, John’s hands slid from her waist to her cheeks and gave her another chaste kiss. When he leaned back, he peered down at her blushing face with a wide, toothy grin. “Did you know the unicorn’s my favorite extinct animal?”

As they settled in for the night, John lounged under his covers with one arm behind his head and stared up at Ruth with a mischievous grin. “Looks like the floor’s all yours, doll,” he said, gesturing to the space beside his cot.

“Oh really?” Ruth arched an eyebrow, feigning deep thought as she glanced around the hut. “I'm sure someone else has some room if you’re kicking me out…”

Without missing a beat, Bucky quickly made room for her on the narrow bed, playfully pulling back the covers and throwing his arm out for her. “Oh wow, would you look at that? A vacancy just opened up.”

She rolled her eyes and accepted his invitation, slipping into the bed beside him, immediately feeling the comforting warmth of his body. John wrapped his arm around her, his touch gentle as he settled her close against him.

“Don’t you dare hog the blankets,” she teased, her voice soft as she nestled against his side, her hand finding its place on his chest.

Bucky squeezed her waist slightly, grinning up at the ceiling. “Don’t you worry about me. I don’t think I’ll have any problem staying warm tonight.”

Beside them, Bill grumbled in response, his voice muffled as he turned away. “Bucky, just shut up and go to sleep. Some of us are flying tomorrow.”

“Night, doll,” John whispered, chuckling under his breath before tenderly kissing Ruth’s hair.

Her eyes became heavy with the day’s exhaustion, and she lazily kissed his shoulder. “Sweet dreams.”

“Oh, they will be if-”

“John! Shut the hell up!” Jack hissed through the darkness.

Finally following their request, Bucky stopped talking and instead focused on how Ruth’s small figure fit perfectly into his bulky one like a missing puzzle piece. He let the steady rise and fall of her chest against him lull him into restful sleep that he’d been lacking since they touched down in Algeria.

Tag List: @xxluckystrike @precious-little-scoundrel @bcofl0ve @violetdaze25 @docroesmorphine @kmc1989 @gfofsadie @artlover8992 @karashaw99 @dustyjumpwjngs @camicanos-blog @storysimp @b00ks1ut @sunny747 @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok @yoongiscxr @blueberry-ovaries @sidneysidney123 @p-polaroid @ginabaker1666 @yorkshirekiwi @barrykeoghussy @slowsweetlove @groovin2beats @imusicaddict

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[julietsbody]

bucky who very openly manspreads, he always sits down with a grunt, slumping down into the seat with his legs instantly parting from each other. and it’s not like it was a little part, something barely noticeable— no, his legs were spread as far as they could possibly be. buck always gripes at him about it, telling him he looks ‘easy’ in which bucky just scoffs, rolling his eyes and spreading even farther just to annoy buck. 

bucky who reeks of mint, coffee, and the cologne he deems the best ever made, pour un humme. 

bucky who rarely ever gets hurt, but when he does? he loves to put on a show for the nurses, wincing and groaning in pain over something simple like a paper cut, or stumbling into the infirmary with a busted lip after he decided it would be funny to box one of the majors on the british air forces. he’s always flirting, too, saying something cheesy like, “gonna take good care of me, doc?“ 

bucky who makes you call him sir when you’re in the empty barracks with him, as everyone else is attending the bar, he’ll tease and tease you until you’re pathetically begging him for him to fuck you— but you left out the one thing he wanted, making him click his tongue disapprovingly, “please who, huh? you gonna be good for me and call me sir, right?”

bucky who puts his military visor hat on you when you’re riding him, chuckling whenever your thighs shake at the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out, making some idiotic joke like, “tryna ride me like ‘m an airplane, huh, doll-face?” 

[saturnville]

sweet goodbyes, major john egan

pairing: major john “bucky” egan (masters of the air) black fem oc (amelia egan)

content: john is being shipped to England to serve in the war; his departure comes with sweet goodbyes

an: callum turner is my new white boy of the month, yay!

“Close your eyes, darlin’. You can’t keep trying to fight sleep.” His voice warmed the deepest parts of her insides. Her stomach fluttered and she couldn’t fight to dopey smile that crept along her lips. She whined in objection, ignoring how her eyelids fluttered.

“I don’t want to sleep,” she murmured, words slurred and almost incoherent. Her hand ran down the lace neckline of her white nightgown; a gift from her mother-in-law from her wedding night. Her hand then traveled over to his dark hair, massaging his curls. “Want to stare at you alllll night.”

His soft chuckle forced her eyes open. He caressed her warm cheek “That’s nice, doll, but you should get your rest. I gotta be out early in the morning. Gotta have coffee together.” It was a ritual. Every morning, he’d wake her up at the break of dawn with a steaming cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal. It was a simple gesture, but it was what she grew to love. Cuddled in the sheets, sipping from their mugs and feeding each other spoonfuls of hot oats. She’d have to get used to eating by herself.

She huffed in disdain. John chuckled and wrapped his strong arms around her body. He pressed a firm kiss against her cheek, then her nose, then her lips. She returned his advances immediately. Her hand gripped his neck as she pulled him closer. “Amelia…”

Amelia’s leg crept along his waist and she silently urged him to take the hint. He whispered a gentle, are you sure, against her lips, which she replied with her hips pressed against his.

John gripped the plushness of her thigh and pushed it back, slotting his body between her legs. Her breaths were heavy and quivered with desire. His large hands clenched the fabric of her nightgown, pushed it up her body, and tossed it across the room. “I love you, you know that?”

“Mhm.” Her mind couldn’t create a coherent sentence with him touching her so delicately. “I love you, too.”

The moon shone through the curtains. Amelia felt the weight of sleep finally pulling her down. Her husbands presence comforted her as his whispered declarations of love lingered in the air. Reluctantly, she stopped battling drowsiness and succumbed to its authority.

The warmth of his love wrapped around her like a blanket, and the anticipation of their morning ritual brought a bittersweet smile to her lips. She couldn’t help but savor the small moments she had left, knowing that tomorrow would be different.

Yet, within their tender embrace and exchange of affections, their love was a solidified anchor that promised a new daw filled with cups of coffee and the joy of each’ other’s company.

[obrowne21]

ʙᴀʙʏ ɪᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ

“𝔽𝕝𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕤𝕡��𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪, 𝕄𝕒𝕛𝕠𝕣 𝔹𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕪, 𝕞𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘.”

“𝕆𝕙, 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥?”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

In which everyone knows that Delilah Cleven, also known as Baby or the best damn mechanic you’ve ever seen, is off limits. Ironically, she’s caught the eye of her brothers best friend and partner in crime. As the harshness of war continues to spread among the RAF Station in Norfolk, Baby and Bucky find love and light in each other. The only obstacle that separates them is the protectiveness of her older brother, Gale Cleven, who would never approve.

CHAPTER 1

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[jointherebellion215]

Worth

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff

A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)

Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!

A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.

You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 

You, of course, said yes.

Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.

“Good evening, Major!”

“Good evening, Major!”

You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.

“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”

“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.

“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.

“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.

“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”

“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.

You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.

“What? I was just trying to..!”

The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Your friends seem nice.”

Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 

You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 

“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 

You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.

“You look beautiful.”

Another pause. “What?”

“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”

Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.

John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 

You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.

✨

“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”

The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.

He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.

Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.

You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.

Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”

You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 

Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.

“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.

“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”

You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 

By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 

Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.

“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 

You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 

Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”

You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.

The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.

Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.

John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.

“No, no problem at all.”

Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”

You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 

“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”

You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.

“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”

You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 

“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”

The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.

“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”

The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.

“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”

Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.

Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.

As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,

“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”

You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.

“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.

“Sorry if I ruined the night.”

You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”

“Yep.”

“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”

His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”

“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”

“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.

“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”

Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.

“My lady.”

You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 

He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 

The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.

“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 

You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 

“Really?”

You continue to sway.

“Yeah.”

You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”

He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.

“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 

The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.

“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”

You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.

He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.

“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 

“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”

You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.

“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 

He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.

So, you close your eyes and take the leap.

Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.

A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.

After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 

Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.

Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.

“You are most definitely worth it.”

[stylespresleyhearted]

the majors wife part two update

note: first I want to thank EVERY single person who likes, comments, reblogs, bothers to talk to me about it. ya’ll keep me going. it’s in the works and its gonna be a longggg one (i’m not even a quarter done) i want to do it justice for me and for all of you who have enjoyed the first part. thank you all for being patient. i am trying to get it out by next week (after that i have a family trip and i have school so schedule is gonna be crazy) so i really do want it out by then. for now i figured i can share a little tiny tiny two part snippet ♥️

part one here

warnings: pre-war bucky, flashback, fear of drowning

let me come home

“If I hadn’t been here —” his voice chokes, his fingers gripping her waist. She wonders how she missed it before when he was looking at her, how she didn’t see the worry. In the pull of his eyebrows. The tears lay unshed in his eyes. “You’re learning to swim,” he said, resolute.

“Okay.” Lila doesn’t have it in her to fight him. Not when he’s like this, fearful and holding onto her. She wouldn’t deny him anything. Her hand comes to clutch at his cheek, feeling the stubble growing there.

[xxanaduwrites]

much ado about nothing, major

i. bubbles & battle scars

gif creds @sakuragifs !

pairing: john “bucky” egan x (ofc) maude “blue” bluell

warnings: this story will contain mature themes, descriptions of injury, blood, sexual content, swearing, as well as, physical and mental illness. proceed with caution.

— i: mentions of injury, death, & puking. (pretty much just maude, bubbles, & croz being a dynamic trio, total bestie vibes — & then there’s john. he’s just there haha)

word count: 3.4k

there must be something or nothing at all

July 24, 1943 was the date — a date marked in the history books as the start of the Hamburg attacks, and in the journal of Nurse Maude Bluell, an inclusion of her very first introduction to one Major John Egan.

It was just past 0900 hours when the doors swung open to the infirmary rather unexpectedly. Bluell was organizing a new shipment of supplies, placing gauze, bandages, and wraps alike in their respective places, Lottie wa re-evaluating the health passes for the men who were flying today — confirming that they has passed inspection so to speak, and Q — well Q was reading newspaper cutouts of her favorite gossip columns, courtesy of her girlfriends back home. A red cherry sucker laid limply in her mouth as she took in the recent excepades of the Hollywood starlets she fawned over.

For Q, it was better for her to dive her nose into the latest gossip than worry about a certain Lieutenant she had tethered a liking too. A certain Lieutenant Curtis Biddick — "Curt" for short — who was scheduled to fly today. Q would deny the prospect of liking the New Yorker with the heavy accent, but it wasn't deniable to Lottie and Maude who had seen the Lieutenant saunter in every morning just to talk to her at the nurse's station. He used the need for a sucker to subside his "apparent" drops in blood sugar as his excuse of choice.

Lottie reprimanded her every time, claiming that they were only for the patients, not for the healthy airmen — hiding the sugary sweet lollipops from her colleague.

But, Lottie's attempts proved to be fruitless as Q would find them at every turn in every single hiding spot, opening a sucker of her own just to push Lottie's buttons.

And, she was doing that just now — not just to bother the blonde, but to also hold some sort of reminder of Biddick, that he was here with her as much as she was there with him — the cherry red sucker that mirrored the very same shade of her hair — tucked safely in the pocket of his flight uniform for a victory treat.

Alas — in other words — there wasn't much to do until their men came flooding back in waves.

Until there was.

The sound of a door swinging open broke the dead silence that pervaded the medical unit. The three women immediately dropped everything they were doing once they saw the sight of Colonel Harding sauntering in with Lieutenant Payne following suit — under the haven of a thick blanket, accompanied by the the arm of one of his fellow airmen.

Or well — Maude and Lottie did.

Susan was trying to consume the last line of the article in front of her as fast as she could. She didn't want to be left wondering what Bettie Davis was doing nowadays in the middle of assessing what was to come.

Lottie, being under the wing of Doctor Stover longer than the two nurses beside her, did not hesitate to meet Harding half way. "Good morning, Colonel'' she greeted, pressing her clip board of names close to her chest as a means of suppressing the shock of it all. It was rather unusual to see any of the airmen, let alone the Colonel until the conclusion of a mission, especially when every health pass had been confirmed and processed.

"Morning. Ladies," Harding replied to the three nurses present respectfully as he always did, curt, and to the point. "Lieutenant Payne is coming down with something and will no longer be navigating today's mission," he explained. "You ladies mind checking up on him?"

"Oh not at all, sir!" Lottie chirped, setting her clipboard down and immediately swinging into action. She nodded over at her colleagues, urging them to take the clearly pale and ill Lieutenant from the hold of the corporal present.

It didn't take long for Bluell and Q to get the Lieutenant situated and comfortable in a bed with brand new sheets — pressed and floral scented. Maude felt lucky and rather grateful that they had completed that task in time for such a situation to occur. Q was still quite busy with her cherry sucker while simultaneously taking the man's blood pressure, so Bluell decided to do the evaluating — not that she minded anyways. It was refreshing to see a man in front of her who wasn't bleeding out and barely coherent. She could already tell without really knowing that Payne would be just fine. That she wouldn't be losing another one of their men just yet, and that made the weight in her chest subside with the sweetest relief.

"Lieutenant Payne," Maude enunciated carefully, smiling fondly at the poor man in front of her. It was obvious from the sight in front of her that illness had racked his bones. The color was draining from his skin, a dull gray taking over, a line of sweat was creasing his brow, and his eyes drooped heavily doused with a glossy sheen. "Please, if you could tell me what seems to be going on. How are you feeling?"

"Well, quite shitty," he laughed dryly, yet a smile still managed to grace his features and prove to be rather contagious to Maude's expression  in seconds flat. "I was fine. I mean, I thought I was. 'Twas until I was propped up ready to fly, feeling like I could hurl if I even moved a muscle. Major Egan shut that down real quick though. Got me a sub with Croz."

And there it was, a title attached to the name of a man Maude Bluell would have scorched into the back of her mind soon enough. Yet, now – now in that very moment, her unfamiliarity with that very same man would simply fly over her head. Instead, she would find a tying point to her patient in the traces of his explanation, one that made her eyes light up in genuine interest. "Lieutenant Crosby?" She asked while dropping the back of her hand to Payne's forehead, inspecting the extent of his temperature."

"Yuh-huh," he nodded

At the same time as Q announced "one-nineteen over seventy," but it really sounded like, "nun-eye-dee ova even-yee," with that sucker still tucked dedicatedly in her mouth.

Maude's hand dropped from Payne's forehead then, seeming pleased to know that he wasn't burning up as bad as she expected – definitely warm but more mildly speaking – and his blood pressure was relatively normal. The wheels were already turning in her head, coming to the conclusion that he merely had some sort of bug. But, she couldn't really come to one until Doctor Stover came to access the man himself.

"Lemme guess," Payne began, getting Maude's attention after she instructed Q to get the Lieutenant a glass of water. If she got his prognosis right, he would need to remain hydrated to subside the urge to vomit. "He's here quite often ain't –" Payne's words seemed to lodge in his throat then, his features twisting just the same.

The clear indication of his illness brought Nurse Bluell to flight mode and she picked up the bucket adjacent to his bed in mere seconds. "Let it out, Lieutenant," she urged as she situated it on his lap just in time for him to spill out the contents into the bin instead of his bed. He did just that, and Bluell did not hesitate to keep the bucket steady and rub his back in a soothing motion, hoping to ease the strain in his back from achy muscles.

Once he was done, he slumped back against the headboard – his eyes appearing glossier than they had before. He was spent, but that did not stop him from mumbling out his appreciation. "Thank you Nurse – Nurse?" He trailed off, a crease forming on his sweaty forehead with a curious sort of confusion.

"Bluell. Nurse Bluell," she introduced herself, moving the bucket off the bed, tying up the old one, and replacing it with a brand new one. "But you can just call me Maude."

"Maude. The powerful battler," a droopy smile spanned across his face, recalling the meaning behind the name of the nurse in front of him.

"Yes, but –" her cheeks dusted pink, and she looked away from him as she got rid of the previous trash close by. "Not me. All you – All you boys."

"Doubt that." Q brought over the water then and he thanked her kindly before taking a gentle sip. "Call me Bubbles."

"Pardon, Lieutenant?" Bluell stood straight then, completely taken aback by his sudden admission. She took a deep breath and sucked back the urge to laugh.

It wasn't uncommon by any means for nicknames to be a staple pass of courtesy and comradely around base. It served as an attempt to distinguish the tension of a deeply set reality and also comouflague identity to foreign forces. Like Charolette and Susan who replied to Lottie and Susie Q or just plain old Q. It was common knowledge. And she had found herself giving into such knowledge as she adjusted to the shortened form of her surname — replying to Blue more often than not. But, Bubbles. Bubbles? She hadn't heard something quite like that before.

"Bubbles. That's what they call me. Ain't heroic by any means. You can ask Croz the next time he's here, 'M sure he'll tell yuh," he elaborated.

A chuckle escaped her then, a genuine smile enveloping in her cheeks in a way that almost felt foreign. She couldn't remember the last time she smiled – really smiled since she'd arrived on base. "Quite heroic to me,." She flattened her hands across the edges of the mattress, making sure he was tucked into the sheets comfortably and then she fluffed up the back of his pillow for me good measure. "Should rest up now, Lieutenant. I'll be here if you need anything. Please don't hesitate to call us over," She affirmed, and in a sudden newfound sense of confidence or maybe it was simply just the comradery, she found herself adding, "that's an order, Bubbles."

Bubbles – still poorly, shivering, and pale as a ghost – managed a light laugh from his strained throat as Maude left the man be. "You got it, Maude"

Maude's spirits appeared to be more pleasant than usual as she busied herself in the next coming hours. Her conversation with Lieutenant Payne – or Bubbles if you will – subsided the nerves that usually rattled her in deep anticipation of what was to come. However, knowing that Lieutenant Crosby was navigating today still kept her worried.

Would his stomach be okay?

Would the natural herbs she recommended to brew in his tea ease him?

Those thoughts did not fail to plague her mind throughout the day, but she was grateful to have some distraction in the task of caring for Bubbles. She made sure to keep an eye on him as much as she could, so much so, that it started to concern Nurse Charlotte Reign and Susan Quinn who felt as if previous patterns from the young nurse were resurfacing. Patterns that were brought into light the very same day an airmen died in her arms for the very first time.

Yet, Maude felt fine – well, as fine as one could be in the circumstances placed upon her. She felt like she could breathe again the moment the boys returned from the Trondheim mission in the later afternoon. It had proved to be successful – and even more so in the hands of one Lieutenant Crosby who was currently at Bubble's bedside. With a chair situated over, he not only came to check on his best friend, but also report on the mission.

Maude was finishing up wrapping a flier's burn wounds adjacent to Lieutenant Payne when she unintentionally overheard the conversation at hand. "I mean the flak, it came in so hot. I didn't even think about it when I put it on. It – It must of froze, but then these chunks, they start rolling down my forehead, I think 'holy mackerel crosby, holy mackerel, you've been hit!"

"Of course you would narrate your own death." Bubbles laughed lightly at his friend's retelling.

She secured the wrap tightly and comfortably and practically repeated the earlier lines she had said to Bubbles. She was starting to become more and more accustomed to her script, finding it more and more natural as she annunciated each word within passing days.

"Well, I mean I could make overthinking into an Olympic sport." Lieutenant Crosby joked just as Maude appeared at Bubbles bedside. She smiled at the two men, acknowledging them as she refilled Payne's water cup without interrupting their conversation.

"I've been puking so much today, I'm starting to catch up to you. Ask Maude." He nodded to the nurse next to them.

"Evening Maude." Crosby greeted the nurse. "Hope Bubbles here ain't giving you too much flak.”

"No more than you have." She just about pulled the man's chain with that one, making Bubbles erupt in laughter.

"Hey, 'snot my fault, Nurse." Crosby held a hand to his chest as if she had wounded him with his words, but the knowing smirk on his face proved otherwise.

"Did you try the tea?" She asked Croz, handing the cup of water over to Bubbles. His color was starting to come back. He looked better than this morning but he still needed to stay hydrated if he was gonna get back in the skies anytime soon.

"Nah. Next time when I actually know I'm flying I will," he sent a look over to Bubbles, only pushing his friend's buttons for fun. "Thanks Bubbles."

"Anytime." He said laughing against the rim of his cup. He took one last sip before Maude placed it back on the side table for him.

It seemed like Croz wasn't gonna let that one slide so easily. "You know I washed my hair twice, I still can't get the smell out." He leaned over his friend, practically shoving his hair in the fellow Lieutenant's face."You wanna smell? Yeah, jump in."

"No. No!" Bubbles tensed up then.

"Yeah, Come on." Croz pushed on.

Maude couldn't help but laugh at the playful side of these men. Men who still managed to let their inner kid shine through all the horror and terror they had ensued in the skies.

"Get – get away. I will puke on you! Yuh gonna have to wash it out." Bubbles threatened, trying to push Croz away.

And then like a burst of unexpected flax, everything shifted.

For not only Croz who immediately stiffened back in his seat – putting on a serious and professional front, but for Maude who – for lack of her own sense of understanding – found herself freezing just the same, but for a whole other reason.

"There he is," a deep, firm, yet some-what carefree voice broke the ice within her. And there he was, one Major Egan looking and sounding like one of those Hollywood starlets in Q's paper clipping — just stepping out of a film in the cinema. And if he hadn't had a small cut just under his right eye, he could have passed as a man who hadn't just returned from an intense mission across the skies. Clean cut, pressed in his uniform, curls styled and gelled back to perfection, with his flight jacket wrapped around his arms. Arms that held a strong hand planted against the edge of the foot of Bubbles bed. "How you doing Bubbles?" He asked.

Maude hadn't realized she was staring at the six foot two bulk of a man in front of her until Bubbles spoke up. "Never better, sir."

"That's good." And then his eyes landed on her, so intense, she suddenly wondered if he had become even taller than he was a minute ago. Feeling caught, she looked away and busied herself with the water cup on Bubbles nightstand to give herself something to do. Would the Major report back to Doctor Stover that she was incompetent and unfit to take care of his men? Lucky for Maude, his gaze broke away from hers the moment she turned around. "And I was looking for you," He said to Croz.

The chair beneath Croz creaked in protest as he stood up to be at the Major's level. "I'm sorry, Major."

"What for?" Major Egan inquired loosely.

"I – I didn't give PRs the whole flight back, I messed up the rendezvous – "

"I know. I know. The radio silence really threw off those Jerries. It's that and hitting the deck." Egan affirmed. With the conversation becoming more detailed, Maude felt out of place and rather rude for overhearing. Yet, the next words that came out of the Major's mouth not only took Croz and Bubbles by surprise, but Maude too. Any previous contemplations seemed to dissipate the moment Egan said, “Now, Harding, he couldn't be more impressed by you so, I'm transferring you to Blakely's crew full time," and then, " Bubbles, you get better, we'll find you a new fort. And Croz, we gotta give you an actual nickname."

"They call him Bing back home." Bubbles added into the conversation just as Maude urged him to take another sip. "More?" He asked, and she simply nodded as she turned back into her previous position– her view of all three men near her resurfacing.

"Bing Crosby? That's just lazy, unless you can sing." Major Egan put in his two cents, and his eyes gleamed when he asked, "Can you sing?"

"I–I ca –" Croz tethered.

"Like a donkey." Bubbles confirmed with zero ounces of hesitation, truly on a roll at deflating Croz's ego today without letting an ounce of illness ruin the fun.

"No, no – not a note, sir."

"Ah, I'm no good either, but I'm loud and hell if you can commit with enough enthusiasm, it really don't matter." And this was when Maude would come to learn of the singing shenanigans that came with one Major Egan. If only she knew then that those shenanigans would very well start up something alright.

The shorter Lieutenant and the taller Major clapped hands then in parting – a shake of sealed establishments and confirmations, proving that they were on the same page. "I'll see you at the Club Croz. I'm buying," the one with height told him, referring to the same exact club Lottie and Q would be dragging Bluell against her will in just a few short hours. "Goodnight Bubbles."

"Sir."He croaked between sips and finally handed the cup back to Maude for good.

"Goodnight, sir." Croz bid farewell. When the Major was out of earshot could Maude breathe, and Croz seemed to be too because he was back to bantering as he commented, "He thinks my nickname is lazy."

Another patient called her over then, stealing her away from the two men she had found herself laughing along with, yet a part of her felt grateful for the sudden diversion – especially now, after the Major's interruption. She couldn't explain it – couldn't even compartmentalize it exactly, but something had shifted inside her the moment he had stepped foot into the infirmary. An instinctive feeling of sorts — awfully hard to pinpoint. It hurt her head too much trying to think about it, so much so, she momentarily wondered if she was coming down with the same exact virus as Bubbles.

She wasn't.

But, she knew it was something, but what was it?

That — she didn't know.

Yet, something deep inside her – against her better judgment – told her that she needed to know. So as Croz passed by and bid her a farewell of his own, she knew what she had to do. And when the girls pitched going out to the Club again tonight, practically begging her in their shared quarters — Lottie using Q's obvious need for a distraction with Curt's lack of a return — did she give into their demise.

Was there really much ado about one night on the town?

Lottie and Q wouldn't think so, and Major Egan – well he wouldn't think so either.

the way in which she is already whipped without "knowing" is so real.

+ Q — curt and susie got me giggling & kicking my feeties !!!

also, for important context purposes, the gifs in the beginning is how i imagine bucky diverting his gaze from eyeing miss. maude ;) sir, we all know you were LOOKING — respectfully!

p.s.: i love bubbles & croz so bad, ugh my HEART <3

ANYWAYS.....

more to come sooner than you think. lemme know what ya think so far? feedback is much appreciated as this is BRAND NEW. this is also my very FIRST historical-esce fic so my apologies if there is any inaccuracies, but it do be my own fiction twist anyways haha.

love ya'll a mil, smoochies!

— xanadu

tag list:

@rubberpsyche

@precious-little-scoundrel

@major-mads

@luminouslywriting

@justheretoreadthxxs

@karmasloverrr

[oskea93]

✶ Whiskey (1) ✶ - John "Bucky" Egan x OC - Masters of the Air fandom - Multi-chaptered story.

⚠ Warning: Rating 18+ ⚠ This story will contain explicit sexual content, mentions of unwanted pregnancy/miscarriage, cursing, violence, spousal abuse. Please read at your own discretion/risk. This story is a work of fiction and simply based on the portrayal of the actors on the show. It has nothing to do with any of the real men that these actors are playing. A/N: Hello all! So, this is my second Bucky story and to say i'm a bit obsessed would be an understatement. There's just something about the way Callum Turner plays him that is... I don't even know if I have the right word to describe it. I posted a couple days ago about my idea for this fic and i've finally narrowed down my choice The OC for this story will be the new Colonel's wife at Thorp Abbotts and of course drama will ensue. I just want to point out that since this story is so heavily smut driven, i'm sorry if my writing of smut is not that great. I've never written a fic so centered on it before, so this is a bit new. If you have any suggestions or comments, just let me know! Lastly, I just want to thank everyone that's read It Had to be You. I greatly appreciate each and every one of you! If you would like to be added to the tag list, just comment your username ☺︎

Heavy breathing filled the darkened space as the distant sound of the bombs could be heard exploding on the outskirts of town. Both of us too lost in one another to care of the threat that could be dropped onto the city at any minute.

His arms wrapped tightly around my thighs, holding me down on the bed as his tongue lit a fire through my body. The whimpers slipping past my lips – begging him for mercy – our eyes meeting as he flattened his tongue against my core. My hands pulling at his messy locks, pulling as the pressure intensified as he sucked my clit.

“Oh, fuck – “ I tried pulling away – my heels digging into the mattress below.

The pleasure was something I had never felt before – my heart beating erratically as he smiled at the state I was in. “John, please.” My legs closing around his head as my walls clenched, sending me into a state of pure bliss.

My dam quickly opened, the floodgates soaking the linen sheet below as he stayed in the same position admiring his work. His hold on my legs loosened, giving me the opportunity to quickly move into a sitting position, pulling his lips onto mine. My taste on his tongue sending me into a primal state as he pulled me into his lap, the pressure building in my stomach as I take all of him, moans building in both of our throats.

“Holy fuck – “ He cursed against my lips as our hips moved in sync. The new position sending us both into an utter state of delectation.

Bruises were sure to form as his fingers dug into my hips, pulling my body harder into his as I felt him swell inside of me. His hot breath hitting my ear as my teeth pulled at his neck, no doubt to leave a noticeable mark in the morning. The friction between us was so strong as we started to reach our climax – our ragged breathing and moans probably heard through the thin walls.

My body fell limp against his as we recovered from our high – his soft lips placing butterfly kisses behind my ear.

“Pretty good, huh?” He smirked against the skin – taking my earlobe between his teeth.

I whimpered in reply – too tired but still too turned on to speak to him in a complete sentence. Talking was what got me into this position – into his rented bed – into his arms and underneath his masculine body as he made me his own...

I was the first to wake the next afternoon – my legs acting like that of a newborn fawn as I stumbled towards the bathroom. I glanced at the mangled bed as I closed the door behind me – his body barely covered by the thin sheet. “Lord, give me strength.” Whispering to myself as I looked in the mirror. My red curls in disarray – red lipstick smeared around my bruised lips. The markings he had left littered my body – small and large – thankfully low enough to be covered from the public eye. The memories of last night replaying in my mind like an old Nickelodeon – heat pooling in my stomach at the thoughts of how he made me feel – over and over – all night long.

My fingers gripping the sink as the feeling of his lips danced across my skin. His teeth pulling as he moved along my shoulder blades – his arms wrapping around my middle.

“You’re thinking too hard.” His morning voice hinting at a rasp, causing my core to throb with want and need.

The temptation to reach back and connect my lips with his was damn near impossible – my knuckles turning white as my grip on the cast-iron intensified.

“I have to go.”

The words slipping out between low moans. His hold pulling me flush against his bare body – his cock twitching against my lower back. I knew that if I turned around in that moment, I wouldn’t be able to tear myself away from him – from his kiss – from his Goddamn touch.

His nose nuzzled in my hair as his hand moved tantalizingly down my stomach, stopping just above the point of no return. “And if I want you to stay?”

I squirmed uncomfortably, rubbing my legs together, already wet just from his proximity.

“If you tell me to stop –“His index slowly moving over my slit. “I’ll quit and you can go on your merry way.” I leaned my head back against his shoulder as he added the middle finger, making slow strides as he hummed against my outstretched neck.

“You’re killing me.” My words slurring together.  

He smiled against my skin as his pace increased. A slew of curse words flowed through my lips, his own finally meeting mine in a heated and much needed kiss. My arm laced around his neck, pressing our faces harder together as his fingers continued their assault. I felt like I was on the verge of fainting – dropping dead from the euphoria that was coursing through my exhausted body.

My body reacted to his touch seconds later – the sticky substance running down my legs as he removed his digits. Our bodies still pressed together – both breathing as if we’d just ran a mile.

“John – “

His hooded eyes casting down as he hummed in response. I paused for a moment, my brain and heart arguing for dominance.

“Take me to bed.”

[otherperson12]

Masters of the Air: The Angels of Death

Chapter 1: Part One

Disclaimer: Bucky being Bucky and a simp. Buck being tired of Bucky.

Thank you @infernal-hues

Bucky was satisfied with the newcomers. The beautiful ginger caught his eye. She had all his attention. By the words of the other girls, she seemed like a good pilot. That was a plus to her beauty. He had never been with a ginger before.

Buck had heard a little between the COs’ and everything looked fine.

Until supper.

“I can’t believe you both kept it from me!” Curt recriminated to the duo.

The news spread like fire. The only information going around was (and the only one that seemed to matter) about some beautiful singles —that was a regalement— skirts were in the base to stay.

When Curt heard, he knew Bucky (and obviously Buck) knew before anyone, so he went to them demanding some information.

Bucky laughed, “You can’t be mad at me. You love me too much.” He said with dove eyes at Curt and blowing kisses.

Buck laughed at them. “You were going to know sooner or later, Curt.”

That was supposed to be some kind of apology. But he did not want that.

“Why are they here?”, Curt asked.

Good question.

They both looked at Bucky who just winked at them.

══════════════════

The interrogation was the perfect excuse to get better coffee than the regular G.I Joe one.

Colonel Elizabeth Nixon was the CO of the 1st Female Fighter Pilot Group: The Angels of Death. She was one of the first female pilots in the Air Force and she won her rank from the bottom even when her family could have paid for it. The girls respected her as a their leader.

“Girls, listen up!”, she called from the center of the room, once the interrogation was done. Everyone looked at her. “As you may know, we will get into combat soon,” some cheers, “We are going to be stationed here at East Anglia with the 100th Bomber Group.” she informed. “Our mission is to protect this side of Great Britain island and not let the nazis get into London.” Then she had to drop the bomb. Ironic. “At the same time, we have orders to escort the bombers in every mission as needed.”

WHAT?!

That was the first thing it came out of the boys’ mouth when they got the news.

After lunch, they all reunited in the conference room. Huglin had told them. Bucky was trying to hide his smile. And not look at Buck and Curt or he would really laugh.

“Those orders come from the upper command. It will help us to complete our missions and reduce the number of casualties.” He explained. “You just do what you’ve been training for so we can win the war. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

══════════════════

Brianna did not want to be a babysitter.

“Just imagine their faces.” Priya suggested with a malicious smile.

Captain Priya Pilanka was from New Delhi, a squad leader like Brianna. She was as respected as hated just for her culture. The both of them bonded over their resentment for the british so they joined the yanks instead of having the UK flag in their uniform.

“This is not how I imagined it.” Brianna commented.

Priya knew what she meant. First, they did not want to wait more to go and fight, she felt anxious. And second…

“Giving you, women, a plane and a weapon don’t make you a soldier. You are just that. A woman who came to help, not to serve your country.” Brianna quoted under her breath.

Priya heard. She remembers those words very well. Their first day in training, almost two years ago.

Priya stiffed a little, “We just have to focus on flying and get the job done.”

They started walking to their new barracks when a voice called.

“Pilanka, Ross.”

Both girls turned and found Lieutenant Colonel Margarita Flores, (‘Mama’ for the girls) from Chile. She was a sweet woman, always taking care of everyone like a mother. She was a little worried about the news.

They salute her.

“How are you both?”, she asked sweetly.

“Anxious to get in the sky, ma’am.” Priya responded for them both.

Lt. Flores looked at Brianna, “I know is not what you expected. But don’t worry about it. You are better than any man. You are Angels, the best of the best.” She reassured them with a sweet smile. “I’m sure we’ll get a mission soon, so I want you both to get settled and go to eat. You are dismissed.” She ordered.

At the barracks, 1st Lt. Louisa ‘Lou’ Breaux had saved them both a bed next to hers. The three of them were a particular trio: the quiet scottish, the spicy indian, and the cute witch.

Lou was another squad leader, from Lafayette, Louisiana. And probably a witch. When she said it was going to rain, the sky seemed to melt. When she asked for a sunny day in the middle of the winter, the sun would appear as if spring had come earlier.

“I got your sheets and your foot lockers.” Lou informed.

“Thank you, Lou.” Brianna gratefully, appreciated. Lou smiled at her.

══════════════════

Brianna was very excited about the idea of having a weekend pass so she could go to Edinburgh. After eating, she wrote a letter to her uncle, telling him she was back in Europe.

She walked around the camp looking for the post office. She did not want to ask for directions. The walk which supposedly was going to be calm, turned out to be the complete opposite.

“Hey, sweetheart!”

“Carrot! Do the drapes match the carpet?”

That one made her blush in embarrassment , but mostly boil herblood in pure rage. The cat calling continued until…

“Hey!”

The calls stopped. So did she.

“That’s enough!” Some man ordered in pure anger.

It wasn’t a deep voice, but so firm it made her almost stand at attention.

Brianna was able to hear the scold.

She took her chance to run away from the situation. The ginger walked as fast and calm as she could. The last thing she wanted to do was draw more attention to herself.

She heard someone walking right at her 6 o’clock, following her. At her left she found the post office and quickly entered.

══════════════════

Bucky was walking around looking for troubles (Buck was sleeping and he did not want to third wheel Curt and some nurse), when he found them.

Well, he actually found her.

For Bucky it was the perfect chance to introduce himself to the newcomer. Until he heard the other soldiers.

He stepped in, did his thing and when he turned to her, she was walking away. Odd. So he followed the red head to the post office. And there she was, completely curved in some papers.

“Good afternoon, Major Egan.” The sergeant behind the counter greeted him.

“How are you, Tommy.”

Bucky saw her stand back little by little and face him slowly. She looked at him and his collar and stood more straight than before. She saluted him.

That had an interesting effect on John.

“That’s not necessary ma’am.” Bucky informed quickly.

Brianna put her arm down. She felt trapped. She delivered the letter and she wanted to go, but he was in the way.

Those small blue eyes were watching her intensely. It made her uncomfortable so she looked down to her feet.

John took his sweet time observing her. Her red hair was in a classic updo with her green cap, her straight pointy nose and small mouth. She had changed her flying uniform for her dress uniform.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. For what happened.” Bucky explained himself, pointing to the door.

Brianna opened her mouth and closed it, then she talked. “I am sir, thank you.”

Silence.

“Let me walk you to your quarters. So there’s no more incidents.” He offered.

‘I’ve spent too much time with Buck. I’m losing my charm.’ He thought.

“That’s not necessary, sir.”

“I insist.” He added quickly.

Silence again.

“If you let me, sir, It would not be appropriate.” Brianna explained trying to get him to let her go on her own.

“If someone asks I’ll explain the situation.” He reassured her.

‘How insisting!’, she thought.

John felt over the moon hearing her voice for the first time, small and cautious. He knew that his insistence on accompanying her was part of his desire to be with her. Normally, he would drink, pick a girl and take her to bed and that's it (and with that, he had gotten his own haters club) but she didn't even want to look at him.

“Let me walk you.” He said again.

Brianna knew he was not going to let her go.

“Alright.” She finally said.

In his mind, Bucky was doing a little victory dance. He tried to look normal, but a smile slipped to his face.

He moved from the door and opened it so she could go in first.

══════════════════

Brianna and John walked the first twenty steps in complete silence. Until he opened his mouth.

“I’m John. John Egan. But everyone calls me ‘Bucky’”, he introduced himself looking at her.

Brianna took her eyes off the road to look at him briefly. She noticed his small blue eyes, which had a little mischief in them.

“Lieutenant Ross, Brianna Ross.”

Five steps more in silence.

“So you are a pilot.” Bucky said.

‘Doesn’t he have an off button?’, she thought a little desperately. She didn’t like being talked to, she didn’t like to talk.

“Yes, sir. I’m a squad leader .” She informed.

“Squad leader! That sounds important.” Bucky said impressed.

Brianna was irritated with the situation because obviously she had to answer to a ranking officer.

“I just do my job, sir.”

Bucky being Bucky, could not tell if she was just quiet and shy or she was getting pissed with him.

“You aren’t American.” He punctuated.

Brianna had spent years of her life trying to sound less Scottish, it looks like it did not work.

“Aye…” She said slowly, looking him in the corner of her eye.

Brianna found him already looking at her, a cocky smile and eyes full of mischief. She blushed as red as her hair, again, for being caught.

Embarrassed and now pissed, she walked faster trying to lose him.

He was having the time of his life, completely enamored by her cute reaction. She was shy, was his conclusion and maybe a little short tempered. John just followed her trying to be at her side again.

“Hey! Wait!”, he called. “I’m sorry!” He apologized. But she kept walking with her head down.

John saw her turn left, and then he saw a bunch of women hanging out of the quarters.

Everyone turned their heads as Brianna nearly ran into the quarters and slammed the door closed.

Then the eyes turned to him.

“Hi.”

He stood there just looking at the door, hands in his hips and a smile on his face. He chuckled.

Bucky started to walk away with intentions to go tell Buck when the door slammed open, a full round of laughter and calling. Brianna ran out hiding her face in her hands, the tips of her ears boiling red.

She was followed by Priya, who was mocking her and Lou, happy as ever, jumping with every step.

“Don’ worry, major. You’ll see her’ again’!”, Lou informed.

He snorted, “I’ll really like that.”

══════════════════

“I swear to god, John, if you interrupt me one more time I’ll drop you in Berlin myself.” Buck warned him, eyes still in his book.

“That book will mean nothing when I tell you what just happened.”

Gale looks up to his best friend. A few hours prior when Bucky had said something similar, life at East Anglian had changed.

“Bucky”, Gale called at John.

“Yeah?”

“Leave those ladies alone”

Bucky laughed.

“Not any time soon”.

He walked away, but he stopped at the door.

“Brianna.” Bucky said.

Gale looked at him, not understanding.

“The name of my future wife, Brianna.”

‘Maybe Curt or Crank would like to hear about her’.

══════════════════

Final notes

First of all, I’m not Indian (my heritage is from all over the world) but I wanted to add a little of cultural variety. I once meet an Indian girl and she was like Priya. Strong and spicy.

[latibvles]

playing pretend.

who up mourning that this is the last prompt. it’s me im up. anyways for Dress Uniform we’re going all the way back to Wendover. It’s December, 1942, and John Egan’s about to find out that he is in fact, a very good actor.

—

The frigid air reminds him vaguely of Manitowoc.

Of course, it would get much colder, snow piling up against the door. He’d help his dad dig out the pathway leading up to the house, the sidewalk, the driveway. And he remembers steam puffing up around their mouths, how he’d take his dad down in the snow to save his sisters from the “dragon” and how powder would cling to his curls. It’s something sobering, warming — he’s not drunk, not enough to have much trouble finding his way.

Wendover isn’t big. There’s base, and there’s the town, and the local bar. On a weekend, they might’ve taken a bus into Salt Lake City, but it’s Thursday, so they all settled for this instead with no practice flight tomorrow. He could take his chances walking back alone, and he doesn’t hate the memories that are choosing to accompany him. He likes the cold, for the most part.

He shoves his hands into the well-worn pockets of his dress uniform, hums under his breath as he takes in the windows with their lights off. If he had a watch, he’d check the time, but he doesn’t. Bucky just knows that it’s late, because he’s never been the kind of guy to call his nights early.

The song they’d been singing in the bar has wormed its way into his thoughts and he’d have to pester Brady for the name of it tomorrow.

He’s halfway between bar songs and shoveled snow when he hears hurried footsteps behind him. He doesn’t have much time to turn around before he’s being swathed by the scent of a peachy perfume, arms hugging one of his and he’s met with slightly frizzy hair, and eyes boring into his own; hazel ones, alight with something indiscernible. He knows her face, because it’s hard to forget something that pretty, but he and Lieutenant Savorre hardly ever spo—

“There you are!” She practically chirps, jovial. If it weren’t for the fact that he can’t smell anything on her breath he’d ask if she was drunk. She’s not though, as she tilts her head up to sear a kiss against his cheek that’s warmer than the whiskey in his blood. Her breath ghosts against the shell of his ear, making him shiver.

“Sorry for the trouble, Captain, but those boys back there have been trailing me for the past block. Could you play along?” Bucky hears it, then. The loud laughter, and as he turns his head he catches glances of the group in his peripheral vision. How they double over one another and stumble, loud and reckless in the quiet. They aren’t Army, not by the way they’re dressed. If Savorre’s scared or nervous, she doesn’t show it. Her lips are pressed into a tight smile as she looks up at him and they keep walking.

Bucky’s never been much of an actor, but he figures he can try.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he leans forward, daring to press a kiss to her hair and Savorre bows her head to let him, like they’ve practiced this before. “Took you long enough.”

“Got caught up with a friend,” Savorre’s reply is breezy as she lifts her head once more. “Missed you like crazy though.” Bucky swallows, harder than he means to, at how easily the words come to her. And if it weren’t for the clamor behind them, he could easily forget that she was just saying it to say it.

“Like crazy, huh?” he counters with a grin of his own. Savorre’s nose scrunches, her eyes narrow.

“Don’t tease me.”

“Can’t help it,” he counters. She huffs, and he chuckles. “C’mere.” Bucky moves his arm from her grip to drape around her shoulders, pulling her into his side and dunking himself further in the scent of her, the warmth of a body pressed against his own. Her hand finds his heart through his jacket, hand curling against fabric.

She’s too good at this.

Savorre keeps looking up at him, laughs at the jokes he comes up with and counters his quick remarks with her own. His thumb presses into her shoulder as he tries to make sense of their predicament. Or rather, the fact that this is the most they’ve really spoken since meeting a couple weeks ago. And he can’t help but be mildly surprised at how easy she makes this all look: she laughs and lightly pats at his chest and bats her eyelashes like she really is his “sweetheart.” It’s impressive. It’s off putting.

He glances behind them momentarily as he leans down as if his plan is to whisper something salacious in her ear.

“Bank left,” he mutters, and Savorre giggles and gasps out a “Sir!” that sells as he veers down a sidestreet with her in tow. They move a few feet behind and Bucky looks behind them to watch the group of boys stumble past, paying them no mind.

Savorre untangles herself from him with a soft sigh, straightening out her jacket and he watches for a moment. His well of words has run dry and all he can really do is stare as she rights herself; straightening her tucked in tie and rumpled collar, before her gaze drags up the length of him to settle on his face.

“Sorry for the trouble, sir. I hope I’m not uh– in trouble for that.” Bucky balks at her.

“What? No. I’m not—” he pauses, before waving his hand dismissively. “Stays between us. That happen often?” Savorre looks a little caught off by his question, before she presses her lips into a line.

“Sometimes, in Texas.” She shrugs, looking at the main street. “Usually we… travel like a pack but my partner had to make sure our Radio Op got back safe and I was handling something with the bar owner.” She reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. He doesn’t miss it — the way she keeps the details vague and he isn’t going to press her for them. But he does smile a little bit.

“Your partner, that’s—”

“Neumann, yeah. Tiny one, black hair,” Savorre demonstrates by holding her hand near her mouth and Bucky can form the image pretty quickly. It was hard not to stare at them.

“I don’t think she’s a fan of me,” Bucky admits and Savorre chuckles at that. He’s pretty sure this is a real laugh of hers, and she shakes her head a little bit.

“Everyone thinks that. It’s just her face. Promise she hasn’t said anything bad, sir.”

“So you girls talk about us?” Savorre rolls her eyes, but he doesn’t think it’s malicious as she raises a brow towards him.

“If you’re hoping for the inside scoop all I can offer is that we’ve been calling you ‘the tall one’, so don’t get too excited,” Savorre smiles a little, like it’s the secret he’s been waiting to be let in on. Maybe it is, because he’s been curious about all thirty of them since he met the pilots on the runway. He presses a little more.

“If I’m the tall one then what’s Kidd?”

“That’s classified information for the 349th to know and for neither you or Kidd to ever find out.” Bucky kisses his teeth, makes a hissing noise as he puts a hand over his heart as if he’d been wounded. She laughs again, with a slight shake of her head and a roll of her eyes.

“Y’know Savorre, they say secrets are poison to a marriage.”

“So now it’s a marriage? I thought it was a rescue mission.”

“Well I’m hoping if I promote myself I’ll get clearance to know what it is.” Savorre makes an ‘ah’ noise, then hums, like she’s really considering it. Makes a point to take her chin between fingers and stroke it pensively, staring up at the cloudy night above them before clicking her tongue and shaking her head.

“Sound argument, sir, but no can do. Plus I’d have to be the one to promote you anyways if that’s how you wanna play it.”

She’s got him there. There’s a glint to her eye — something like mischief — and Bucky’s pretty quick to decide that he likes talking to her and wants to do it more. Mostly because she’s funny, which he didn’t know, and in part because somehow she’s made the idea of Jack Kidd being called anything besides Jack or Kidd seem like the most interesting thing in the world. It feels like a game in some respects and Bucky likes a good game.

“You can drop the sir,” Bucky offers. “...when we’re offbase.” An olive branch, or something like it, he watches the way her face softens up some in surprise, before she tilts her head and furrows her brows.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s just us. Bucky works fine.” Savorre looks like she’s contemplating it for a moment, her expression virtually unreadable. It’s always been pretty easy for him to decide who he does and doesn’t like; it’s easy for him to file Savorre into the prior category as opposed to the latter. She nods, slowly, mutters his name under her breath before fixing her gaze back on him with a smile; warm, friendly.

“This isn’t just a way to get yourself on the fast track to promotion, is it?” Bucky scoffs in mock offense.

“Y’know, if you weren’t smiling all nicely I’d be offended by that.” He whines. Savorre snorts a little bit, which he doesn’t expect.

“Well then sorry, Bucky, and you can call me Viv when it’s just us. If that’ll make it up to you,” She offers and he nods. Viv. And then it’s almost like an immediate switch; how she rocks back on her heels for a moment, looking away from him to one of Wendover’s low rows of businesses and houses. “And thanks again for… playing along. I wouldn’t’ve done that if I had another option.” She sounds almost apologetic and Bucky rejects the unspoken apology with a wave of his own hand, a shake of his head.

“Anytime,” he assures, before amending the statement. “Well, maybe not anytime but if you need a bailout I’m not… it doesn’t bother me.” Viv nods, and he takes her in a little bit. The pinkened state of her cheeks and tip of her nose from the December air, and the progressive softening of her features.

She’s not readable, at least not in any way he understands quite yet. But she’s not stiff either, or rigid. The only other time he’s ever gotten some kind of read on her was when she’d breezed past him with two other pilots to go greet Veal with a “What took you so long?” and a smirk that reminded him of just about every other pilot he’d met, including himself. Maybe she didn’t have sharp edges, but she wasn’t shy or meek about anything.

She’s not shy or meek now either. Maybe comfortable, which feels like some kind of reward for him.

“I might give some of mine the heads up on that,” she admits. “If you don’t mind. Some of them are too shy about that kind of thing and don’t know how to ask.” It doesn’t sound like a complete thought, more like she had more to say but is withholding it. He decides not to pry into it.

“I don’t mind,” he agrees, instead. They lapse into silence for a moment, stiff with that uncomfortably frank knowledge that, yeah, this isn’t the first time any of them had been followed around. Bucky decides, quickly, that he doesn’t like it: the silence and the knowledge. He can do something about both, thankfully enough. “So can I keep walking you back or do you plan on leaving me in the dust?” Viv makes a noise, somewhere between amused and disbelieving.

“Yeah you caught me, I was planning on running for the hills ‘till you opened your mouth.”

“Yeesh, am I that bad of a husband?”

“Well I wouldn’t know. You promoted yourself pretty quick — and it still doesn’t count.” She walks towards him, and then brushes past, and he turns on his heel to follow her, falling in step pretty easily.

“I’m taking that as a ‘No, Bucky, you’re great and also terribly funny. An absolute catch.’” That makes her snort again and she reaches to lightly shove at him, but he doesn’t move much as she shakes her head.

“Sure, Bucky. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

[hbowarbabes]

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬

John "Bucky" Egan x Roxanne Vernon (OC)

Summary: A quiet evening at an officers’ club leads Roxanne to believe love is not in the cards for her. Out of boredom, she reluctantly takes her friend’s request to sing with the band, in front of everyone. Her luck might change as another man joins in the singing.

Warning: Some mentions of alcohol, and Bucky’s horrible singing :)

Words: 4.6k

• • •

“Are you seeing this?” The blonde spoke in a strong New York accent, but quietly enough not to disturb the peace of her friend.

The constant chatter and laughter echoed through the entire club. The words of Roxanne’s friend, who was sitting right next to her, were almost inaudible.

“You there, Rox?”

Roxanne turned her head immediately, startled by her friend's loud voice.

“Sandra, I can’t hear you.” Roxanne shook her head in confusion. Her friend had a tendency to bring up conversations at random. They could be talking about one thing, and she’d bring up something with no relation whatsoever.

Sandra rolled her eyes in response, taking the last sip of her drink and setting the empty glass on the table. Roxanne didn’t have anything to drink. She wasn’t a huge drinker like her friends.

“Just look at that,” Sandra stated in astonishment, pointing her finger in the direction of a couple who looked like they were really in the heat of the moment- just like most of the people there.

It’s not like anyone would notice unless they looked hard enough. And that was what Roxanne enjoyed about clubs.

The club was a place for airmen and nurses alike to enjoy their off time. It was a place where they could set aside their responsibilities for the night, where they could be themselves.

Most of the people, specifically the airmen, didn’t know which day would be their last, which is why they enjoyed it like it was.

No one is watching you or judging you. It’s just you and your thoughts left to be. That’s unless you have a run-in with some lonely airmen looking for company.

That wasn’t the case for Roxanne.

She had seen love blossom for her friends, watched their eyes light up, and their hearts flutter at the touch of their chosen partners. However, she had resigned herself to the idea that a relationship wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. Since she spent most of her time alone, she believed in maintaining a strong and independent aura, but as she watched couples embrace on the dance floor of the officers' club, a wave of longing coursed through her.

“It’s only been a hot minute and she’s already forgot about us.” Sandra shook her head as she watched Roxanne laugh at the two.

They laughed out of happiness for their friend. Out of the three of them, she’d managed to get herself some company. Jean had no problem swooping up men. It was a matter of staying with them that was the challenge. So far, she’d stayed with Tony for two years.

“That’s Jean for you. Can’t leave a good night without her little Tony.” The two women laughed long enough for their friend and her boyfriend to notice them.

“Uh oh.” Sandra took the cigarette out of her mouth and shot Roxanne a smirk.

The couple approached Roxanne and Sandra, watching as they gave them smug looks. The two still couldn’t hold back their emotions.

“Why are you two still sitting here?” Jean was confused as to why her friends were doing nothing.

“We’re enjoying the view, hun.” Sandra popped her cigarette back in her mouth, not bothering to move.

“Glad we could give you two a good show.” Tony wrapped an arm around Jean’s shoulder, pulling her into a kiss. The ladies rolled their eyes at his gesture.

“Just do us a favor and save it for the bedroom.” Roxanne stated, getting a laugh out of everyone.

“Hey, you can’t blame a girl for enjoying herself. That’s why we’re here, right?”

“Hun, that’s what you’re here for.” Sandra laughed dryly, not relating to her friend one bit.

“Well, I’m sure Roxy here has been enjoying herself. I hope.” Jean didn’t speak in the most convincing tone. She watched as her two friends sat at the booth doing nothing for the past hour.

“We’re just being careful. It’s not like all the men here are saints, Jean.” Roxanne propped herself up against her chair, trying not to appear as if she was bored out of her mind.

“Oh well. If you girls aren’t gonna move, then I guess there’s no point in trying. Tony and I will be elsewhere.” Jean sighed in defeat as her friends didn’t have any motivation to socialize or find a man.

“You two go do your thing. We won’t bother ya.” Sandra waved the couple off.

“Don’t get yourself into trouble, children.” Roxanne pointed to the two.

“Oh, you’re no fun-“ Before Jean could finish her sentence, Tony whispered something in her ear. She giggled, before whispering back to him.

“Well, we will see you two later.” Jean and Tony gave the ladies a subtle wave before walking off.

He dragged Jean away to another part of the club, away from the ladies’ field of view. There went the girls’ source of entertainment for the night.

“Damn. What I’d give to have that girl’s luck.” The blonde leaned back in her seat, letting out a sigh.

“I think you took that luck for granted, Sandra.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. She knew it was true. Being single was something she brought upon herself.

“The guys just weren’t doin’ it for me. They all wanted a ticket to the bedroom, and you know how I feel about that.” Sandra picked up her empty glass, but then realized she finished her drink.

“That’s not all true.”

“How so?” Sandra almost didn’t look convinced.

“Are you too drunk to remember Pete?” The blonde’s eyes widened at Roxanne’s recollection of her previous relationship.

“Maybe I just don’t want to remember. I’ve only had two drinks-“

“In less than half an hour.” Roxanne scoffed at her friend’s lack of awareness. If her friend drank any more, she'd be out of a job by the next morning.

“I know he was sweet and all, but he was just over attached-“

“You mean he didn’t have the desired bank account for you? Because last I recall, you were the one crying because you couldn’t pay me back for that purse.”

"What? I thought I paid you back." The blonde looked at her friend in a confused state.

"I think the whiskey's getting to your brain. Try to cut back on that stuff, will you?" Roxanne shot Sandra a stern look, but the blonde just shrugged.

Roxanne ignored her friend the rest of the time, just trying to take in the sight around her. The sight of happy people having a good time. Something she should be doing.

Minutes later, the band began playing “Blue Skies”. It was a beautiful tune, and a favorite of Roxanne’s. The brunette had the urge to sing, but she just wasn't feeling it that night.

Sandra, being the vivacious friend she was, immediately sensed Roxanne's melancholy. She tugged on Roxanne's arm, her eyes dancing mischievously.

Roxanne quickly turned her head, facing a very eager-looking Sandra. “What?”

“It’s your song.”

She nodded at Sandra, well aware of the tune. “I know.”

“Something’s missing.”

Roxanne looked at her friend, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know- maybe some vocals . . .”

“No-“ Roxanne shook her head in refusal, not wanting to engage in her friend's suggestion.

“You should go sing.” Sandra cut her off, smiling.

“And risk losing my job?” Roxanne thought her friend was nuts. She knew she wouldn’t lose a job over some singing, but having to sing in front of everyone is no easy task. She would never do something like that.

“Come on, you’re not going to lose your job. You’re a good singer.”

“No, I’m not doing-“

“One time, just once.” Sandra was practically begging her best friend.

Roxanne let out a heavy sigh as she scanned the room and people chattering.

“I’m only doing it because you’re my friend and I love you.” The brunette finally gave in to her friend’s request.

“I’ll be watching.” Sandra stated with an eager look as Roxanne got out of her seat.

She slowly made her way to the microphone, earning a confused look from the man conducting the band. It was safe to say that this would definitely leave an impression on everyone at the club that night.

She quickly caught up with the beat of the tune, all the words rushing back to her. Roxanne took hold of the microphone and began to sing.

“Bluebirds,”

“Singing a song,”

Her voice, sweet and melodic, filled the room as she poured her emotions into each note. She closed her eyes, letting herself be consumed by the music, feeling the lyrics resonate deeply within her.

In the distance, the blonde cheered her friend on, not caring about the looks people gave her as she shouted. Others in the crowd didn’t look too disappointed. So Roxanne continued on.

“Nothing but bluebirds,”

“All day long”

Unbeknownst to Roxanne, a man stood at the edge of the crowd, captivated by her voice. Unable to resist, he made his way towards the microphone.

Roxanne began moving to the beat, preparing to sing the rest of the words, when she was quickly cut off. She was so in her moment that she didn't notice him.

“Never-“

“Never saw the sun shining so bright,” The man grabbed the microphone from Roxanne's grip.

She nearly jumped when she looked up at the tall, brunette-haired man in uniform standing next to her.

He winked at her with a smile on his face as Roxanne stood there unsure of whether to keep singing or not. She thought he was a cute looking guy, but just because he was singing along with her doesn’t mean anything, right?

He nodded at her, urging her to continue singing.

“Never saw things going so right,”

Roxanne stared at the face of the man, who was staring at her intensely as she sang. As her nerves grew, she started to feel the heat in her cheeks.

Roxanne couldn’t take her eyes off the man, examining his every feature. His eyes were almost a bright blue color. And his smile- it was enough to make her knees weak.

The two finally caught up with the beat, singing in unison.

“Watching the days hurrying by,”

“When you’re in love, my how they fly”

Roxanne couldn't help but laugh a little as their voices mixed like honey and vinegar. He wasn’t exactly the best singer, but he too was caught up in that happy feeling, not giving a damn about how he sounded.

He couldn’t hold back his laughter when he saw Roxanne's face- his voice was terrible, and he knew it. Lucky for him, her voice was the balance that was much needed.

“Blue days,”

“All of them gone,”

The man took a step closer to Roxanne as they were getting near the end of the song.

She would’ve been lying if she said she wasn’t feeling any bit of nervous tension. By now, her cheeks were a bright red.

“Nothing but blue skies,”

“From now on”

The mix between Roxanne’s near-angelic voice and the man’s rough, out of tune voice was getting a few laughs from the crowd. They were enjoying the entertainment from the brunette and the man.

As the band hit the last few rhythms of the tune, the man stepped away from the microphone, and began moving his arms up in the air. Roxanne watched as the feel of the music flowed through him, doing everything in her not to laugh.

“Come on.” The man extended his hand out to Roxanne, insisting on dancing with her. She pointed at herself, mouthing, “me?”. Not for a second would she believe this man was serious.

He nodded, moving himself closer to her.

A little hesitant, Roxanne put her hand in his, letting his arms take over their movements as they danced through the last parts of the song.

The tall brunette spun Roxanne around, getting hold of her after each twirl. He was quick, and he was better at keeping up with the pace than Roxanne, who was one bad move away from falling.

From across the dance floor, Roxanne could hear Sandra clapping for her, along with Jean and Tony, who had returned at that very moment.

Once the music came to an end, the man let go of Roxanne’s hand.

“Better work on those dance moves, beautiful . Gotta keep up.”

Before she could get a word in, he simply smiled at her and walked off.

Dumbfounded, Roxanne was stunned that this stranger had called her beautiful. On the other hand, she thought the man’s comment came off as a bit of an insult, but she shrugged it off. He was probably drunk.

Roxanne rushed back to the table where her friends were, almost feeling ready to pass out from the fast-paced dancing.

“Oh my goodness, you should’ve seen the both of you.” Jean seemed more excited about the whole performance than Roxanne herself.

“This girl’s got some charm, yeah? Got herself a flyboy.” Sandra sipped her drink happily as her friend rolled her eyes at the statement.

“I think he was catching feelings for her. You should've seen his face. Oh- they looked so sweet dancing together!” Jean hit Sandra on the side of the arm, earning an annoyed glare from the blonde.

"I doubt that. Plus, it was just a dance." Roxanne denied all assumptions. At this point, her friends were just coming up with excuses that someone might like her. The man probably sang with her because he liked the song or needed a reason to break out of boredom like she did.

She was still processing everything about this man, not listening to the little comments exchanged between the girls.

This hot stranger seemed like a very confident individual, most likely with the help of a couple drinks.

To be wearing a uniform, Roxanne could only assume he was in the Air Force. That wouldn’t come as a surprise to her as those guys had a reputation of chasing women.

She had to be the luckiest woman that night. Never in her life had she had an encounter like that- let alone a man talk to her.

"Yeah- that looked like more than a "little" dance with the major." Tony laughed, sounding very unconvinced. This had Roxanne perplexed.

"Major?" She looked at Tony with wide eyes.

“Roxanne!” Jean whisper-shouted.

Jean was mouthing something and twirling her index finger. Roxanne shook her head. She couldn’t understand her or what she was trying to say. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Startled, Roxanne turned around and was greeted by the man's warm smile. The strong scent of his cologne hit Roxanne almost immediately.

“Oh- I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you-“ Out of quick reflexes, she placed her hands against the man's chest, bracing herself. The brunette was quick to catch Roxanne, grabbing hold of her wrists. Out of embarrassment, she quickly moved her hands away from him. Roxanne could feel her heart beating out of her chest.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, miss,”

The man’s voice sounded much nicer when he talked than when he sang.

Roxanne’s friends watched as she had that deer-in-the-headlights look.

“You’re a really good singer. I’m impressed.” Roxanne didn’t expect a compliment from the man who had told her that her dancing had sucked earlier.

“Thank you. It’s not like I’d want to ruin a beautiful song like that with a bad voice-“ Roxanne paused mid-sentence upon realizing that would probably come off as an insult to the man.

“But I have to say, you’re a much better dancer than I am.”

“I caught you by surprise, didn’t I?” The brunette held a proud grin on his face. “Surprise” would be an understatement.

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m John Egan.” He extended a hand towards her and introduced himself, his voice carrying a gentle confidence.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, John. I’m Roxanne. Roxanne Vernon.” She brought her hand into his, feeling the firm and warm grip of his hand.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful face.” John’s cockiness couldn’t stop the brunette from holding her laughter.

“I’m flattered.”

Roxanne could hear her friends’ snickers over her own voice.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to buy you a drink, just wanted to get to know you better.” She was a bit taken aback by his boldness, but she couldn't resist his charming smile.

“I, uh-“ She turned to face her friends, who stopped laughing immediately. John felt that he might’ve been too forward with the girl. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away.

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I didn’t know if you were with someone or-“

“Oh, don’t worry, hun. She’s all yours tonight.” Sandra commented without hesitation .

Roxanne shot her a threatening glare, but her friend just sat back in her seat and smiled proudly as she sipped what would be her third drink.

John looked at Sandra and back at Roxanne, unsure of how to respond.

“Sure, I’d love to.” Roxanne cut in, trying to ease the awkward silence in that moment. The man’s face lit up.

“Shall we?” John stuck his arm out.

Roxanne's heart fluttered, her skepticism momentarily fading as she felt a spark of something unfamiliar. She nodded, unable to resist the pull of John’s charismatic presence. Roxanne hooked her arm around his. They made their way to the bar, their conversation flowing effortlessly.

John couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl. He could see her once pale cheeks turning to a light red shade. Roxanne kept her calm composure, but on the inside, she was screaming.

“So, you like singing?” He turned to Roxanne, leaning into her ear. The noise has ramped up again, but luckily not as loud as before.

“I don’t do it often, but when I do, it has to be for one of my favorite songs.” The brunette looked into the eyes of the man, still taking in the sight of his bright blue orbs.

In all honesty, Roxanne wasn’t much of a singer. She was good at it, but it wasn’t something she saw herself doing some years down the road.

“I see.” John nodded, taking in every word but still admiring the face of this woman.

“Do you ever think of becoming a singer? I think you got the voice for it.”

“Maybe. You never know where the world will take you.” For Roxanne, that was what happened.

She was getting ready to finish up her masters degree, and then war broke out. They need more nurses, so she, along with Jean, signed up. Roxanne believed that everyone could do their part to contribute, and this was how she did.

The two seated themselves a short distance from some other people at the bar.

“Ladies first.” John signaled for Roxanne to have a seat in the stool. John called the bartender over, ordering his drink as he got settled on the stool.

“And for the lady?” The bartender tilted his head in Roxanne’s direction.

“I’ll have the same as him.” Roxanne nodded kindly at the bartender, who looked to be around her age or a bit older.

“So, what brought you here to England?”

“I volunteered. I decided to be a nurse.”

John seemed surprised to hear that. It wasn’t everyday he’d hear that people would ask to be involved in such a mess of war.

“I was finishing up university, and then everything happened, and I saw myself doing what I knew best, which was taking care of people.” The bartender left the drinks on the counter, nodding at Roxanne.

“You saw yourself becoming a nurse to treat a bunch of flyboys, huh?”

Roxanne laughed at the man’s sarcasm. She would be lying if she said she didn’t go for that reason.

“Maybe. Maybe I just came for a little adventure, something to get away from home.” Roxanne and John grabbed their drinks at the same time, clinking the glasses against each other.

As the liquid hit Roxanne’s tongue, she then realized the drink was too strong for her liking. She had barely a sip before setting the glass down, trying to hide the look of disgust on her face.

“And what about you? What brought you here?”

“I joined up before the war broke out. After seeing all the news, it looked like a war would be unavoidable.” John set his glass down on the counter with a sigh.

“So, how old are you? You must be pretty young if you’ve just finished university.”

“Asking a woman her age? That’s brave.” Roxanne teased.

“Hey, I didn’t say you were old. It was a compliment.” John held a dorky grin on his face, watching as the brunette shook her head in disbelief.

“The wonderful age of 24. Does that answer your question?”

“You’re not far from me.” Roxanne raised her eyebrows in confusion. She assumed he would be in his thirties or older. Not that it was a bad thing. It must’ve been the mustache.

“And all this time I thought you were already approaching 40.”

“Do I really look that old?” John acted as if he was offended, clutching his chest at the girl’s comment. He immediately knew that she was joking as she began to giggle.

“You tell me.”

“I’m the old age of 27. Thanks for being discreet about it.” John scoffed at Roxanne.

“Trust me, you don’t look any older than my brother.” Roxanne took another sip of her drink, puckering her face at the strong taste of the alcohol.

“You got a brother?” John’s brows went up in surprise.

“Yep. He joined the Air Force about two years ago. My family rarely hears from him. Last time he wrote, everything seemed good on his end.” Roxanne didn’t know how much of her brother's letters were actually true, but she tried to believe his every word.

“That’s good to hear.”

As Roxanne took another sip of her drink, she gave up trying to force herself to like it. The bitterness had her scrunching up her nose as she swallowed the liquid that was already in her mouth. John noticed her look of disgust.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s too strong for my weak taste.” Roxanne felt a bit embarrassed by her lack of alcohol tolerance compared to John. He shook his head, bringing a hand closer to her drink.

“I’ll drink it for you if you don’t want it-“

Roxanne quickly moved her glass away from his grasp.

He looked like he was already a few glasses in prior to the dance with her. It would be best not to give him another one.

“Oh- no, don’t worry about it.”

“Roxanne, I’m serious.” John insisted on taking the drink from her, staring into her eyes with a mischievous looking grin, but she continued to shake her head in refusal.

“And if you’re too drunk? Who’s going to walk you back?”

“Who said I was walking?”

Roxanne was worried even more when he said that. How was he thinking of getting back?

“Then what’s your plan?”

“I’ll ride a bike.”

As if that were any better. Roxanne didn’t trust this man getting home on his own. Something could happen to him or the other way around. It wasn’t safe.

“In fact, you can ride with me. I’ve got two of ‘em.”

“I think I’ll pass on that one. You might try to get us both killed.” Roxanne wasn’t open to the idea of walking John back alone, but she wasn’t going to willingly ride a bike back with a drunk man either.

“Trust me, you’re more likely to die in a plane than on a bike.”

Roxanne was taken aback by John’s statement. He may have said it as a joke, but it sounded much more serious than humorous. Roxanne brushed it off.

“So, I take it you’re a pilot?”

“What gave it away?” The brunette raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Your demeanor. It's a dead giveaway." Roxanne stated with much sarcasm and truthfulness.

"So you think I'm like every other guy here?" John looked at the woman with wide eyes, following along with her satirical tone.

"I've only met one so far, but you know that your men have quite a reputation.”

Roxanne meant every word. Since she became a nurse on the base, she had always noticed how the airmen were quick to swoop up women. Of course, she hadn't been one of those women until now.

"And who might that one lucky man be?" John grinned smugly, aware of who she was referring to.

"I think he knows who he is." Roxanne winked at the handsome pilot, watching as he chuckled.

"You know, I'm surprised there wasn't more than one man. They must be blind." John watched the color in Roxanne's cheeks turn a bright red.

"You're too sweet."

"No. I'm too honest."

John brought his eyes away from the beautiful girl in front of him. As he looked at the happy couples on the dance floor, he could only picture the same with Roxanne. The two connected almost instantly. By now, it felt like they'd known each other for a long time, even though they only met a few minutes ago.

She saw his gaze moving to the people. Another man in uniform, who she assumed was a friend of John's, shouted something at him as he held a girl under his arm. They were laughing like two happy kids.

"Just look at how happy these people are." Roxanne smiled at the sight of the calm crowd and cheerful faces.

“It’s something that most of us hope won’t be a last good memory. And I think after tonight, this won’t be a last for us.” There was a optimism in his voice that was undeniable. It was clear that John had an interest in the girl even if the two didn’t know each other that well.

Roxanne stared at John, giving him a smile that almost reached both of her ears.

The two went silent for a moment, taking in the peaceful moment they had both longed for. They both got lucky that night. All because of some singing.

“I’m really happy that we met tonight.” John had finished his drink through the exchange of only a few words, while Roxanne’s wasn’t even halfway done. She was too distracted to remember her drink.

"Me too." Roxanne smiled at John with that enamored look in her eyes. The love she had found for this man she only met minutes ago was undeniable.

His charm, his personality- it was something Roxanne never knew she was missing. She found herself completely captivated by John's confident and open manner. Maybe trying to stick around with him a little longer wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“I say we go dance. Wouldn’t want to waste a good night like this.” John looked eager to get out on the dance floor.

Roxanne held her hand out happily.

“Lead the way, Major.”

• • •

As the night wore on, Roxanne discovered a newfound joy in John’s company. They laughed, they shared, and they lost themselves in conversations that seemed to last an eternity.

The officers' club faded into the background as Roxanne finally understood that love had indeed been waiting for her, patiently biding its time.

Later during the night, Roxanne and John danced under the dim lights, their laughter mingling with the soothing melodies.

As they swayed together, Roxanne felt a weight lift off her shoulders, a realization that love had found its way into her life in a way she never thought possible.

Their journey of romance had only just begun, but as Roxanne looked into John’s eyes, she knew that the night at the officers' club would change her life forever.

Love had found her, and with it came a newfound courage to embrace the unknown, to revel in the magic of possibility, and to believe that blue skies awaited them.

[major-mads]

Chapter 3: Listen to Your Heart

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: I'm so glad y'all are enjoying the series!! Thank you so much for reading!! Us Callum girlies sure got some...cough cough...quality content in episode four, that's for sure! Let me know what you think, and go read the other half of the story using the link below!!! this wonderful gif is by @zsuo!

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 4.7k

August 3rd, 1943

Ruthie, Since Saturday night, you have rarely left my mind. I replay the dance in my head, trying to commit every detail to memory. I love being around you, Ruth. I couldn’t imagine the night going any better than it did, and I’m so glad that you stepped outside of your comfort zone to come with me. Curt’s been giving me a hard time about embarrassing you when I sang, but I told him you loved it, even if I sound like a “dying animal” in Buck’s words.  Speaking of Buck, I’ve decided to never let him live down Saturday’s condom incident with Hope. Hugh sure isn’t letting it go, so I can’t help but join in on the fun. Despite that, I think he had a great time with her, even though he’s a total stick in the mud. I can’t believe they didn’t dance, Ruthie! Our dance was my favorite part of the night, besides how we said goodnight, of course.

I would really like to see you again soon, Ruth. It’s no secret that I’m taken with you, and I think you feel the same. We’re spending the next few weeks replacing crews and forts, so we won’t be too busy. If you’re able, please stop by and pay me a visit. At the sight of your sweet, kind smile, and the feeling of your hand in mine, my worries seem to disappear. The only worry left in my mind is that my efforts to convert you to a Yankees fan won’t be successful. I hold onto the hope that you’ll see that the Braves are terrible and that the Yankees are the better team. The Braves went 11 and 18 this past month, and my amazing team went 21 and 11. You can’t argue against stats, slugger. I hope this won’t affect your feelings toward me because then we might have a problem. I can’t wait to see you again soon. Please stay safe up there for me.  Your Hotshot, Johnny Egan

August 6th, 1943

Dear John, I am happy to hear that you and the boys are finally getting a break. When we were at the dance, I knew y’all were exhausted, but you sure didn’t show it, Major. You danced and sang like there was no tomorrow, and I had more fun than I had in a long while in your arms. Don’t worry about what Curt or Buck said. I loved your singing, even if it was slightly off-key and very loud. You might have embarrassed me, but seeing you in your element was worth it.  Every time I think back to that night, my heart begins to race and I can’t help but smile at the thought of you. I’m so very grateful that you decided to bring me along. Somehow you manage to turn me into a giddy, blushing teenager every time you cross my mind. Our kiss is a cherished memory of mine, and forgive me for being forward, but I hope that we can make more of such memories in the future.  Hope had an amazing time with Gale at the dance, and apparently, he wasn’t as much of a “stick in the mud” as you think. I’m sworn to secrecy, but know that they are very fond of each other already. When we got back to Grove the day after the dance, we told Frank what happened with…the incident, and he thought it was hilarious! He even said that he “did his job well,” whatever that means.  I would love nothing more than to come see you, but sadly, I don’t know when I’ll be able. Casualties from Italy are getting worse with the invasion of Sicily underway, and we’ve been on runs almost every day since we got back from the dance. Regardless of this, the first chance we get, Hope and I will make our way up to Thorpe Abbotts.  I can’t wait to see you again, Johnny, but the blatant slander against the Braves might damage your chances of getting another kiss. We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this because I promise you I am not going to be converted. After all, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Don’t hurt yourself falling off your bike during your break. Yours,  Ruth Morgan P.S. I would like to meet Meatball the next time I visit the base!

Sunday, August 8th, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

The mess hall buzzed with energy as Buck and Johnny sat at breakfast with Curt, who slowly moved his powdered eggs around on his plate with his fork. 

“I can’t eat this shit anymore,” he groaned, pushing the plate away from him.

John took a slow sip of his “coffee,” raising an eyebrow at the man. “Then don’t eat it.”

“Oh wow,” Biddick quipped. “What a great idea, Bucky. I’d never thought of that.”

The major smirked behind his mug and shot his friend a wink. Buck watched on in amusement, used to the two going back and forth as he and John did.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Curt leaned over the table toward John with a teasing glare. “Have you heard anything from Ruthie? Has she mentioned me? I thought I made a good first impression the other night.”

“Hmm,” Johnny hummed, pursing his lips for a moment before pointing at Biddick. “That’s Nurse Morgan to you, you dodo. I’m surprised you even remember anything from the dance with how drunk you were.”

“Oh I couldn’t forget a face like that,” he chuckled.

John’s eyes narrowed playfully as he clasped his hands together and leaned on the table. “Well it’s a good thing for me that she could forget yours, then,” he clapped back. “And you’re not the one she kissed goodnight.”

Buck rolled his eyes and continued to eat his breakfast as Egan’s loud, wide-mouthed cackle echoed through the mostly quiet mess hall. Curt then turned to Gale with a raised brow. “How about Hope-”

“Nope,” Buck interrupted calmly, raising his cup and taking a sip of his steaming coffee.

The other two men watched him as a tiny grin formed on the Major’s lips. Although he didn’t talk about it much, they could tell Buck had already developed deep feelings for the woman. 

Raising his eyebrows at Curt, John grinned. “Oh boy.”

“You’ve got it bad, Buck,” Biddick laughed, his hand landing on Gale’s shoulder roughly. “You gotten a reply to your letter yet?”

Thinking of the perfectly folded letter from Ruth he’d picked up that morning sitting in his breast pocket, John smiled down at his food, warmth spreading through him at the thought of the blonde. Buck, however, pursed his lips and shook his head at the question.

“I actually haven’t written her yet,” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “I want-”

“What!?” Johnny all but yelled, his eyes widening as coffee almost spewed from his mouth. “Why the hell not, Buck? I already sent one to Ruth and got a response.”

Gale groaned and put down his fork with a clink. “Because of Hugh.”

“Why are you so worried about Charlie?” Curtis asked, wearing a confused expression.

“Because he’s in my squadron. And he’s her brother.”

John pointed and leaned over the table at him. “Hope’s a big girl, Buck. She can make her own decisions. Screw what Hugh says.”

“But-” Gale started but was once again cut off by Bucky.

“He’s gonna hate you even more if he thinks you're leading her on. You not sending Hope a letter isn’t making anything better,” he said, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips as he continued. “On top of the condom situation.” 

John and Curt busted out into chuckles as Buck just groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “Oh, please don’t remind me.”

The ideal chatter was disturbed by the door to the mess hall swinging back on its hinges with a crash, followed by heavy footfall as Hugh all but stormed through the building like a tornado. He snatched a mug off a table and poured himself a steaming cup of black coffee before marching past the trio, staring daggers at Gale who looked up worriedly from his breakfast. 

Curt’s eyes followed the man as he walked in, muttering under his breath, “Speak of the devil.”

"Good morning to you, too, Sparky," John called out with a small wave as he walked by, only to be met with deafening silence from the other pilot. 

Hugh's harsh glare was burning a hole in the back of Gale’s skull and he thought any second now he’d come into his brain and it would be lights out. 

“You’ve really pissed him off this time, Buck, and you didn’t even get his sister into bed,” John laughed heartily, taking a long swig from his whiskey and coffee, it was most likely more whiskey than coffee but Gale humored him. 

“Will you give it a rest? I’m already getting it from Hugh without your added input,” Gale stabbed aggressively at his scrambled eggs, willing the eyes of the room to stop looking at him. 

Curt snorted beside him, waving his fork around. “Well, I’m telling you boys, if I’d have had Hope in my arms and she’d bought condoms with her, let’s just say she wouldn’t have been going back home with them.” 

That was the final straw. 

Gale slammed his fist down on the table, ignoring the way Johnny jumped in his seat, spilling his coffee over the table, and the way several chunks of his scrambled egg disappeared onto the floor.

“You say anymore slander about my girl, Biddick and I swear…”

“Your girl, Buck?” John raised his right eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips as his mustache twitched. “She’s your girl and you haven’t even written her yet?”

Sometimes Gale wished he could rip that stupid mustache off John’s face, but he kept his cool. 

It would seem that Hugh had heard the whole commotion. His chair screeching back from the table, he stomped up between the tables once more, his glare never leaving Gale until the door slammed shut behind him. 

Buck groaned, unsure if it was in relief or at the impending doom that he was likely to suffer if this debacle continued. Without a second thought, he excused himself from the table, ignoring the calls of protest from John and Curt, and hurried after Hugh. 

“Hugh! Hugh, wait up. Please, I want to talk to you,” Gale jogged after the tall brunette whose face turned sour the instant he noticed him.

The door quickly closed behind him, and Curt looked at the major across from him with a guilty expression. “I was just joking, Bucky. I would never-”

“Ahh don’t worry about it,” John said as he sipped on his coffee. “He knows that. Like you said, Buck’s got it bad and this thing with Hugh has been eating at him since Saturday.” 

Biddick nodded to himself, his eyes lingering on the door. “Do you think Hugh’ll let it go?”

“For Buck’s sake, I do…I think he will. Doesn’t mean I won’t still rag Buck about it, though.” 

“Yeah,” Curt mumbled, staring down at his plate.

Neither man spoke for a few moments, each lost in their thoughts until Bucky wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up. “I’ve got a letter to write. See you later, Curt.”

“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Biddick replied. “Bucky Egan writing a love letter. Looks like Buck isn’t the only one who’s got it bad.”

John tugged his white-fleece jacket back into place and chuckled at his friend. “Don’t go all soft on me.”

“I think it suits you, John. Really,” he urged, a soft smile on his lips. “You seem happier.”

Staring at him for a moment, Bucky didn’t quite know how to respond. He felt happier. He had something to look forward to other than getting drunk at the bar or the adrenaline rush he got when the sound of .50 cal brownings echoed through his fort. John placed his cap back on his head, and with a curt nod, turned toward the door.

His tie suddenly became too tight around his throat as he pushed through the doors into the cool English air, and he quickly loosened it, letting it hang limply as he took a deep breath. In that moment, John Egan had a profound realization.

Since he came over to England in May, he had been simply going through the motions, replaying the same days over and over: Wake up…Fly forts…Bomb targets…Get drunk…Show a woman a good time…then start the cycle again the next day. For someone with such a passionate personality, he lacked the feeling that he so deeply desired. Curt could vouch for this, being the one to knock some feeling back into him a few months back on the wing of Mugwump.

But since that day in July when the nurses landed on their small base in East Anglia, feeling had slowly been creeping back into his life. He first felt it when Ruth caught him staring, and was soon captivated by her dimpled smile and capable personality. The numbness that had become so familiar to him faded into the background when she was near, her laughter shaking free his heart a little more each time it left her lips. 

He was alive with Ruth. More alive than he felt when ME-109s whizzed past him or when flack shook his fort. More alive than when he unbuttoned a woman’s dress and laid her down. More alive than the burning sensation that traveled down his throat when he downed another shot at the bar.

Over the past few weeks, the blonde nurse had somehow burrowed into his jaded exterior and broken down the walls he didn’t even know existed. 

John’s mind reeled as he silently mounted his bike and rode to the base HQ. The ride passed in a blur, and before he knew it, he was sitting at his desk, staring down at the blank sheet of paper before him. He hadn’t had a problem writing her before, so why was this any different?

How was he supposed to convey such profound feelings in a letter?

He started simply, letting his mind imagine her there beside him.

“Dear Ruth.”

Thursday, August 12, 1943: Termini Imerese, Sicily, Italy

“You ready girls!” Frank called over his shoulder, glancing as Hope and Ruth took the stretcher from the medics below them and loaded the last wounded soldier onto the rack. Hope pulled out her flight manifest and checked off the final patient to board. The young boy reached out, grasping her hand. 

“Nurse,” his voice cracking as he tried to grab her attention. He was so young, barely eighteen years old. His bright blue eyes, glossy and hazy, gazed up at her. 

“Yes, My Love,” Hope crouched down, clasping the boy's hand in one of hers while her other brushed away his brunette locks from his face. She tried to stop her eyes from drifting down his body to where only stumps of his legs remained, the burnt flesh wrapped neatly in crisp bandages. 

“You’re an angel,” he whispered and Hope smiled sweetly at him, squeezing his hand. “When I write home, I’m gonna tell my Momma ‘bout you.” 

A single tear trickled down her cheek and she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and watching until he drifted off to sleep. His delicate, young features were no longer etched with worry, and the hard lines across his forehead softened as the morphine began to take effect. 

Hope turned, watching as Ruth comforted one of the other young men further down the plane who had managed to remove some of his bandages. 

“Hey, don’t do that, you need those,” Ruth tutted quietly, helping the Private sit up a little so she could secure fresh, white bandages around his bloody arm. The poor boy grumbled under his breath as Ruth tucked in the end. “Now leave ‘em be, okay?”

The young boy nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his cot. They weren’t the most comfortable racks, just cool metal bars lining the hammock-like beds that swayed as the C-47 rocked through the sky. 

Hope took her seat beside Ruth, who had finished trying to redress the soldier's wounds, smiling briefly at her friend, who wore the same exhausted expression she did.

“I can’t wait to get back to the Grove. I need a warm bath and my bed,” Ruth mumbled, stretching out her aching muscles that screamed against the tension in her body. 

“Oh don’t say that, Rue. We’ve still got to drop these poor boys off at the hospital in Mateur.” Ruth just groaned in response. 

The dance with the boys had been their last outing in a while. It was the last time Hope hadn’t felt completely exhausted. She’d been relaxed, able to let go, and safe in Gale’s arms. 

This trip had been hard. The plane was at full capacity and when they arrived on the airfield at Termini Imerese, Sicily, they were instantly thrown into action. The girls disappeared into the makeshift hospitals that lined the airfield, the white tents flapping in the harsh wind that did little to cool the heat from the scorching midday sun. 

Hope and Ruth conferred with the surgeons, assessing and stabilizing patients that were safe to fly, meaning that many of the young men with head injuries or who had suffered significant blood loss would be unable to fly due to the unpressurized aircraft cabins. Many of the men didn’t have emergency medical tags, so the girls had to make their own assessments for many of the patients. 

The thrumming roar of the C-47’s engine erupting to life always brought a great sense of comfort to Hope, along with an impending sense of fear in unison. This job, while rejuvenating her youth through the exhilarating flights and the lives they saved, aged her with each passing moment spent in the air, because after every successful landing she was left with the feeling that although they had saved lives, they couldn’t save them all. This weighed heavily on both of the women.

Frank and his fellow pilot chatted hastily in the cockpit, their muffled voices cracking through over the radio. As soon as the plane leveled out Hope and Ruth stood, each taking a side of the plane and beginning the checkups on their patients, recording their temperature, pulse, and respiration as well as checking there was no strike through of blood from their dressings. The girls worked quickly, only conferring on their patients' conditions. 

It always amazed Hope how quickly their work changed them, on the flight over Ruth had been once again telling her about the letter she’d received from John. Hope feared she could probably quote Ruth’s letter herself by now, but she never complained, pleased that Ruth was finally coming out of herself. 

Hope had her own letter from Gale tucked into her top overall pocket, over her heart. His words burned into her flesh and she felt as though he was right there beside her all along. 

Having dropped off the soldiers at the large US hospital in Mateur, Tunisia, the C-47 headed home. The mood was somber as the large metal bird rattled its way across Europe towards England. 

Ruth’s eyes had closed about half an hour before, and Hope didn’t have the heart to wake her up. She looked so peaceful, the wrinkles that normally appeared when she smiled were smoothed away, and her blonde locks fell softly from where she had so lovingly pinned them that very morning. 

Hope took Gale’s letter out of her pocket, smoothing out the creases that had poked around the edge of the page. Words of affirmation sprung out at her and a smile was instantly cemented to her lips as she relieved the last moments with him. 

The flight home always seemed quicker, and soon ‘The Angel of Death’ was touching down on the runway. Hope helped a rather sleepy Ruth off the plane and waved goodnight to Frank, who chuckled in amusement at the blonde’s incoherent murmurs, some of them sounding an awful lot like the name of her beloved major.

 “Goodnight Ladies.” 

“Come on, Rue. Let’s get you home,” Hope wrapped her arm around her sleepy friend, leading the way to the Nissan huts they were billeted in. 

Some of the other nurses were still stationed in Africa and so they currently had the hut to themselves. Hope lay Ruth down on the bed, smiling as she snuggled closer into the pillow.

So much for a warm bath…

Hope would rag her about it later, but she couldn’t deny that the stress of the day was getting to her too, but something restless kept her from falling into her own bed. Instead, Hope sat at the small desk in the corner, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. She pulled Gale’s crumpled letter from her pocket, smoothed it flat onto the desk, and began writing her reply.

The following day, the girls finally had a day off, and as much as they wanted to make the trip up to Thorpe Abbotts, the nurses were so exhausted that they barely got out of bed. 

“What time is it?” Ruth groaned, turning onto her side to hide from the bright sun peeking through the curtains. 

Getting no response, she cracked her eyes open, and a smile tugged at her lips at the sight before her. In the corner of the room, Hope’s cheek lay smushed against the desktop, her messy black hair splayed around her as she slept soundly. The corner of a paper could just barely be seen under her hair, and Ruth immediately knew what she’d fallen asleep doing.

Sighing softly, she pulled back her covers and padded over to Hope, wincing at the sting of her feet against the cold floors. “Hope,” Ruth whispered, rubbing the woman’s shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

She awoke slowly, allowing the blonde to sit her up off the desk. “Five more minutes,” Hope mumbled.

Ruth chuckled, the sound echoing through the silent hut. Luckily, Hope’s bed was directly beside the desk, so the smaller woman didn’t have to maneuver her around too much to get her onto the mattress. 

Gently laying her extra blanket over her best friend, Ruth smiled down at her. “There you go. Snug as a bug.”

She then walked over to her bed and snuggled under the covers again, but not before closing their blackout curtains, causing darkness to envelop the room once again. The warmth drew her back into her peaceful slumber, her eyes fluttering closed as her mind repeated Johnny’s latest letter:

Sunday, August 8th, 1943

Dear Ruth, I can’t wait to see you again. I know I said that in my last letter, but I’ve recently discovered that absence actually does make the heart grow fonder. I find myself waiting in anticipation for your letters the moment I send off my own, and I long to see you…to have you here next to me. Hopefully, your missions will ease soon and you’ll finally get a break, too. I understand how tiring it can be to fly day after day, and that’s without even having to take care of patients. Please take care of yourself, alright? As much as I would love to see you, please rest if you get the chance. Don’t worry about me. We’ll see each other soon enough. Today Buck finally wrote Hope back. I tried to tell him how stupid it was to wait, but he was adamant about getting Hugh’s approval. He’s a bigger man than I am, Ruth. Regardless of this, we can never let him live the incident down…ever. In response to your threat to withhold your affection from me, I say bring it on. Like I said before, you can’t argue with facts. The Yankees are the better team, and I’m going to convince you of that, so I cannot agree to disagree. I’m too stubborn to let you win, and if I’m being honest, I don’t know if you’ll be able to resist my charming personality…or the mustache. I know you love the mustache, Ruth. If you decide to follow through on your threat, I’ll shave it off. Just for you. Don’t stand between a man and kisses from his girl. It doesn’t end well for anyone. But it’s like you said, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right? Please be safe, Ruthie, and know I am thinking of you. Yours, John Egan

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hope! Ruth! You alive in there?” a voice hollered through the hut’s door, rousing Ruth for the second time that morning. She opened her mouth to reply, but Hope beat her to it. 

“Go away, Frank!” she groaned, covering her ears with her pillow.

“It’s almost noon,” the man chuckled. “I know you’re tired but you both need to get up. We’ve got stuff to do.”

Sitting up abruptly, Ruth grabbed her watch off her small side table, her eyes widening when she read 11:43 am. She looked over to Hope who was also staring at her watch in utter disbelief.

“I haven’t slept in this much since I was a teenager,” Hope muttered under her breath before turning to Ruth, almost breaking into a fit of laughter at the blonde’s wonky curls from the day before. “We look terrible.”

Frank pounded his fist against the door, yelling, “Get up!”

“WE ARE!!” They both hollered back, unable to keep the frustration from lacing their voices.

Throwing off her covers, Hope stood to her feet and marched over to the door, swinging it open. Ruth clamored quickly out of bed to follow her, stopping right behind her shoulder as they glared at Frank. His eyes scanned the women before him, and a grimace appeared on his face at their ragged appearances. 

“Okay,” he started, raising his hands in surrender. “Go back to sleep. You look like shit, and I’d rather do things on the plane by myself than deal with your grumpy attitudes.”

They narrowed their eyes at him. “Nope. We’re awake now,” Hope retorted, smiling sweetly at him.

Sighing, Frank stepped back from the door with a barely concealed smirk. “Meet me at the hardstand.”

As Hope shut the door, Ruth flopped back on her bed, her eyes following Hope’s figure walking across the room to the desk in the corner. “How’s Gale?” she asked, propping her head up with her hand.

Hope began to neatly fold up the letter, smiling softly as she talked over her shoulder. “He’s good. Said he didn’t write because of Hugh causing problems, but he’s got his blessing now.” She turned toward Ruth with dusty pink cheeks, giggling to herself. “He even signed his last letter with ‘your Gale.’”

“Hope!” Ruth squealed, sitting up and covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve someone like Gale, and I’m sure Hugh sees how much he adores you.”

Hope looked down at the letter in her hands, her heart swelling at the thought of the man. “He’s amazing,” she whispered as her eyes traced over his name on the paper. After a few moments, she shook her head, seemingly clearing her thoughts, and raised an eyebrow at Ruth. “How’s John?”

It was now Ruth’s turn to blush, the tips of her ears heating up at the mention of the major. “Great…amazing…wonderful. I feel like I’ve known him so much longer than a few weeks, Hope. You know how I can get sometimes, but when I’m with him, I don’t feel nearly as anxious. And when he kissed me…I wished it could’ve lasted forever. I can’t wait to see him again.”

Sighing softly, Hope plopped down onto her bed. “Look at us, Rue. We’re like a bunch of lovesick teenagers.”

“Yeah, we are,” Ruth giggled, her mind replaying her and John’s laughter, soft touches, and tender looks from the dance. The way he held her face so delicately, how his lips-

“Come on,” Hope called, her mattress squeaking as she got up, breaking Ruth from her thoughts. “Let’s get ready so we can go annoy Frank.”

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[instructionsnotincluded]

True North

Gorgeous banner by @lady-cheeky

Chapter XXIX

Excerpt:

“Trust me,” DeMarco shifted over a seat, leaning into his space as Bucky allowed Frank to sit before he took his own chair beside Buck, “it’s better for us all if I just move.” 

“Smart man.” 

“Thank you,” Frank gave DeMarco a soft look, “but you didn’t need to move.” 

DeMarco only sent her a wink in response, and Frank felt Bucky’s hand slide over her upper back, wrist dangling off her shoulder as they sat close. “Frank,” Buck greeted her and she nodded in response, “nice weather in the air?” 

“Seems so,” Frank smiled in return, “not too turbulent today.” 

“Glad to hear it.” 

“Our queen,” Curt all but leaned across Buck and Bucky, grinning widely at her as Frank shook her head at him, laughing softly as he took her hand and kissed the back of it, “you look gorgeous tonight—”

“Alright,” Bucky shoved the clearly intoxicated Curt Biddick away, hand on his chest as Frank laughed beside him, “get off—you jackass.” 

“Love you too, baby!” 

Everyone laughed as Bucky blew him a kiss and Frank shifted closer to Bucky as he squeezed her shoulder, thumb swiping across her collarbone. “We haven’t met,” an accented voice just a little slower than Rose’s filled her ears and Frank glanced to her left, spotting a man speaking on the other side of DeMarco, “I’m Joseph, but everyone calls me Bubbles.” 

“Bubbles,” Frank nodded in return, “I’d love to hear that story.” 

“Oh, it’s one for the books…”

[saturnville]

i come to you on my knees (i’m ovulating) BEGGING for a black!fem!reader fic where bucky is the fucking munch he is PLEASE

poetry in motion, major john egan

pairing: john egan x she (black!fem!reader) warning: 18+ sexual situations and descriptions. content: in which john teaches her a thing or two about bodily poetry. tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum an: I don't typically write smut, so I hope this met your expectations at least just a little bit.

John Egan was known to be an impulsive man. He acted animalistically, on instinct and emotion rather than logical and thoughtful comprehension. When it came to her, however, he was more meticulous, patient, and calculated. Slow and intentional.

She was like him, an enigma. A code that took much time to decode. The rearranging of pieces (his approach) would occur many times before the lock clicked and fell off the guard box that kept her withdrawn from him. Then a dark door opened and the safe guarded treasure was revealed.

It didn’t come without struggle and resistance. Even upon agreement, she still shuddered at every attempt to pull her soul from her body. Her hands fisted the neutral sheets beneath her as her legs shook like leaves in the wind.

The scene from his perspective was tantalizing. Her eyelids sat low and her brown eyes were hardly visible, but still, he maintained a piercing gaze with her. That, in combination with the impassioned feeling of his mouth against her sensitivity, was overstimulating.

Her stomach clenched as she writhed against the sheets. She sobbed woefully, her nails scraping against his shoulder as she attempted to back away. It was too much.

For just a moment, she got a break. But, it didn’t last long. The dampness of his tongue was replaced by the skin deemed of his fingers. She jolted as her eyes shot open.

John Egan was salacious. Dripping with sensuality and eroticism. Beneath the faint light of the candles, he stood as a shadow above her. He had shed his jacket and was dressed in a wonderfully fitting black t-shirt. His hair was tousled from her constant tugging and his lips. Her eyes rolled backward at the sight. Swollen and dripping.

She sighed his name slowly and closed her legs around his forearm. He shook his head in disapproval and pushed her thighs open with his free hand. “Keep them open.” His voice dripped with arousal. She put up a good fight, but lost when the overwhelming pressure began to boil over.

He was attentive. Her end was near and he knew it. And how desperate he was to bask in it all. Once more, he found his place between her thighs. His eyes trailed the richness of her skin as he gently placed her legs on his shoulders.

She was enticing. From her scent to the way she tasted on his tongue. Sweet and succulent. He found himself getting lost in her pleasure. From the way, she screamed his name and begged for mercy. Oh, how he would pay to stay in this position forever.

“John,” she squealed, sitting up on her elbows. Tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill. His blue eyes shifted upward to meet hers. “Please…” He hummed. She screamed.

It reverberated against the walls and fueled the fire that burned within him. He’d store it to keep him warm for the rest of eternity.

With a string of whimpers and incoherent words, she came down from the high she rode deliciously. Her bare chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath.

She held her hand out tiredly, desiring his closeness. John wiped his lips with the pad of his thumb and crawled on top of her shuddering frame, dropping kisses against her neck, cheek, then lips. “You okay?”

She grinned tirelessly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She’d waited a long time for a moment like this and she was glad she held out for him. She nodded and pecked his lips again, “I’m okay. I’ll feel better if you do it again…”

John’s eyebrow quipped in amusement. A sultry smile crept on her lips. He said lowly, “Yeah?”

She opened her thighs just enough to slot his body between then engulfed him. Her hands dropped to his pants which were secured by his belt. John’s eyes fell. She nodded, “Yeah.”

Who was he to deny that? Only a fool would do such a thing, and John Egan was no fool.

[obrowne21]

ʙᴀʙʏ ɪ’ᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ

Chapter 1 - “Buck’s Baby Sister”

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The sweet sound of jazz filled the speakeasy that occupied both Bucky and Buck. Like usual, the night before a mission was always spent this way. Other pilots were scattered through the place but the inseparable duo situated themselves in a booth not too far from the bar. “Take a look around, Buck.” A drunken smile was present on Bucky’s face as he gestured to the bristling place around them. “We’ve got the drinks, we’ve got the music…”

“You know what’s missing?” Gale let out a sigh with a shake of his head. “Don’t start.”

“We’re missing girls.” There really was no surprise that women were at the top of John Egan’s priorities. You’d never catch him leaving the bar without one, sometimes even two. The blonde across from him opened his mouth to retaliate but John quickly corrected himself. “I know Marge has you wrapped around her finger. I’m talking about me, Buck.”

“So, who’s the unlucky lady for tonight?” Raising his eyebrows in curiosity, Gale took a sip of his drink before returning it to its original spot on the table.

It was always the same with his friend, Bucky. No matter how much he tried to spread his influence of settling down with a nice woman on him, it never sounded appealing to John.

Bucky threw his head back with a genuine laugh. “Guess I’ll have to look around and see.”

His eyes scanned the room in interest. Wondering from face to face but nobody seemed to catch his eye. There was a brunette who had been trying to get his attention all night, she seemed to be looking for more of a long term thing so he shut that idea down quick.

His focus turned to the entrance as the door opened, ringing off the bell as it did so. In walked an unfamiliar but entrancing face.

The first thing that caught his eye was her confidence. Even though her presence attracted many onlookers and judgmental stares she never shied away.

In fact, she made eye contact with every one of them as if she was trying to find someone. Determination radiated off of her as she held tightly onto the duffel bag that she brought with her.

As her head turned it gave Bucky a view of her unique hairstyle. Unlike most ladies here, her honey blonde hair cascaded freely down her back. Only two upper pieces were pulled back into a messy braid. It seemed she had a long day by the way a few strands had escaped and were now framing her face but she made it look so damn beautiful.

The top of her navy blue cargo dress fit her perfectly giving Bucky a display of her slim waist. As she continued to look around the bottom of it softly swayed with her like she was a princess in one of those old time movies.

Bucky didn’t even feel ashamed or embarrassed when her gaze had stopped at his and Bucks table. It was hard to look away from her and he wanted her to know that.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” The gruff voice of Buck reached his ears causing him to glance over.

There was an apparent smile of what Bucky could decipher as pride on his friends face as he too stared at the new lady.

Returning his attention to the pretty stranger, he noticed a cheeky smile make its way onto her face. And she was looking at Buck.

She was looking at Buck. Not him.

A million questions clouded his mind wondering how the two could possible know each other. I mean, his buddy was head over heels in love with Marge.

Buck stood up as she started to head toward them. “They let you in?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” With a mischievous shrug of her shoulders she let out a playful giggle that was music to Bucky’s ears.

Once she was close enough she dropped her bag and brought the taller man in for a long hug which he returned a little too quickly for Bucky’s liking.

“I missed you, Gales.”

Gales?

“I missed you too, Lilah.”

That’ll do it. This has to stop.

With an obnoxious clear of his throat Bucky smiled sarcastically as the pair turned to him. “Hate to break this cosy reunion up but my pal Buck here isn't a free man.”

That statement caused the two to quickly jump away from each other like one had burned the other. A look of disgust made its way onto the woman’s face as she tried not to gag.

Noticing, Bucky tried not to laugh at the reaction but was even more fascinated by her sense of humor.

“No, John.” Nodding his head to the girl next to Bucky he denied the ridiculous statement. “This is my baby sister, Delilah.”

A sense of recognition made its way onto Bucky’s face. Gale had mentioned her many times before.

His baby sister who he had taken care of since he could remember. His baby sister who held the biggest place in his heart. His baby sister who was one of the main reasons he was here in the first place.

Now up close, Bucky took a good look at the unusually short blonde and only one thing could come to mind.

Buck’s baby sister had to be the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen.

“Ah, Delilah.” Slapping his hands on the table in excitement, Bucky stood up to softly grab her right hand. He brought it to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back of it. “Bucky’s baby sister.”

Although she was flattered, Delilah ignored the warmth rushing to cheeks and took her hand back from the charming pilot. “And the new mechanic, yeah.”

“Oh? Gotta admit I’m a little surprised. Usually the new mechanics aren’t pretty like you. Or a woman for that matter.”

“Guess those mechanics aren’t as good as me either considering I’m here to teach them.”

Now it was her turn to give him a sarcastic smile. It was very rare for a woman to be sighted on the station, let alone on the front lines of it all so Delilah didn’t hold it to him.

Bucky rolled his tongue along the side of his mouth as he stared at the girl impressed with her comeback. Another box to check on his list of things he likes in a woman.

“Guess so.” The two seemed to forget there were people around them as they stared at each other in curiosity.

“John Egan. They call me Bucky.”

It was nice to put a name to the face. Whenever Buck had written back to her he would always mention him.

Bucky the man who had given Buck his own nickname. Bucky who had kept him on his toes. Bucky who he had spoken so highly of as a friend.

“I know.” She nodded. “The way Gale speaks about you in his letters I was expecting maybe a cape, a fan club-”

Before she could continue Buck urgently picked up her bag and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Glad you two could meet but it’s getting late, yeah? I’ll walk you to your quarters, help you settle in.”

“But I didn’t even get an autograph yet.”

Looking between the sibling duo, Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. Never in his time of knowing Buck had he seen him act so nervous. The two seemed to be close by the way she felt she could joke with him so freely. It made Bucky miss his family.

“Maybe I’ll tag along.” He spoke breaking the siblings teasing. He left a few bills on the table for the waiter and threw on his jacket. His eyes finding Delilah’s once more. “Get to know Bucks little sister more.”

“You really don’t have to.” Not only did Gale decline for the sake of avoiding another embarrassing encounter but he also caught the looks Bucky and his sister were stealing of each other.

And he didn’t like, not one bit.

“I insist, Buck.”

The three made their way to the exit. Turning around Delilah kept walking backwards as she faced the two. “Well, only if you insist. But this whole ‘Buck’s baby sister’ thing will just not do.”

“Okay,” Bucky nodded. That was fair. Opening the door for the two he smiled as Delilah passed him. “How bout ‘Baby’?”

“What? From like Dirty Dancing?”

Bucky nodded to her, a little embarrassed to admit that he watched Dirty Dancing. He almost regretted his words until she gave him a look that read ‘where have you been all my life?’

“Baby…” she tested the name before smiling.“I like it.”

Chapter 2 here!

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A/N: Hope you guys liked it! Comment and lmk your thoughts. I kept getting Bucky and Buck mixed up so if you see a little typo just ignore it😘.

How do you guys like Delilah so far?

I tried to make her and Bucks sibling relationship as real as possible.

And you already know Bucky’s down bad for her but I want it to be a little slow burn

[butdaddyilovehim99]

SOS

i’m looking for a short fic (maybe an imagine?) that i read yesterday and forgot to like

it was bucky and nurse reader, she finds out she’s pregnant just after he goes down. the guys on base all dote on her and harding pulls some strings to keep her there. she has the baby while bucky is still gone and eventually gale returns then bucky

it was so good and so sweet!!! please if you know what i’m talking about help a girl out!!