#Hambone Hamilton x reader

[probably-not-a-rocketscientist]

Bored

You're bored of Bucky talking about his love life. Luckily, your favorite bombardier swoops in to save the day.

Warnings: Historical inaccuracies (its good for the plot)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Just a short Hambone fic I came up with at work! Inspired by Bored by Laufey.

You had been listening, for what felt like hours, to Bucky’s rants about Lil and Dye’s relationship. At first, you felt sorry for him. You spotted him across the dance hall, his usual cheery self now sulking and sad. Helen and Tatty had filled you in on what happened with Bucky and Lil, claiming he had been like this for days now. You questioned the validity of their information, but they assured you that they'd overheard some of the pilots talk about it earlier. You decided to be a good friend to Bucky and, against Helen and Tatty’s advice, walked over to where he was sitting to ask him how he was feeling. 

So now, instead of dancing and enjoying your night, you were stuck here. You could’ve left, but some part of you would have felt guilty for leaving him to deal with his heartache by himself. Even Buck, who was used to Bucky’s erratic behaviors, steered clear of him tonight. 

Hambone saw that you were sitting with Buck, listening to whatever he was rambling on about. In fact, he saw you the moment you walked in, instantly taking his attention away from the conversation he was having with Douglass and Blakley to focus on you instead. Your usual grease stained coveralls were replaced with a blue dress and topped with a bright cherry lip. It wasn't that he didn't like your usual attire. Seeing you in your ground crew uniform was the best part of his day. But the sight of you in that dress was enough to make his heart skip a beat.

His infatuation for you started from the moment he arrived at Thorpe Abbotts. After the quite unfortunate landing of their plane, you and the rest of the ground crew jumped into action, making sure that the plane wouldn’t blow up after landing. After stabilizing everything and loading it up to be fixed, you had gone to check up on him. The fact that you went to him, out of everyone else on the plane, was the greatest welcome he could've received, and it only solidified your friendship with him.

The two of you grew closer after that encounter. You're the last person he sees on the ground before every mission and the first when he lands. He claims that you're his ‘good luck charm’ and that he always gets back safely when you're there. He also shares his bad jokes with you (you swear that they’re actually funny, he doesn’t believe you) and anecdotes about his life before the war. 

You tell him about growing up in the city, a stark contrast to his Midwestern upbringing. He learns that after the war, you plan on finishing your degree just like him, and he can't help but picture life together with you stateside. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Douglass, who noticed his lack of attention and he followed his gaze to you, earning him a thump on the shoulder. 

“Go talk to her,” Douglass encouraged. 

“She’s busy with Bucky,” Hambone argued. He did want to talk to you, tell you how pretty you looked tonight and chat with you until the sun came up, but some part of his brain stopped him from doing so and filled him up with nervousness instead.

“No she’s not, she’s clearly bored out of her mind,” Blakely added. And he was right. Even from across the room, it was clear that you were looking for any chance to escape the mostly one-sided conversation.

“I talk to her everyday, she probably doesn’t even want to see me.”

“If you don’t go over there right now, I will. And I’ll tell her that you talk about her for hours and even that one time you‒”

“Ok, ok I’ll go,” Hambone pleads, quickly standing up from his seat before his friends embarrass him even more. 

He looks over to you once again. You still have the same unamused expression on your face, occasionally nodding to signal that you were still listening to whatever Bucky was still rambling about. Taking a deep breath, he makes his way over to you. 

“Excuse me, Major. But the Lieutenant here promised me a dance tonight and I plan on taking her up on that offer.”

You were confused. You don’t remember Hambone asking you to dance earlier, and you knew he preferred to socialize at parties instead. Then, you realized what he was doing and looked over to Bucky, hoping he would let you be excused and more importantly, put you out of your misery.

When Bucky shooed you off and told you to enjoy the rest of your night, you jumped out of your chair with a little too much excitement and took Hambone’s hand as he led you out onto the dancefloor. 

After finding a spot, you placed your hands on his shoulders. Hambone, wanting to be respectful, rested his hands a little too far above your waist. You smiled at how sweet this gesture was. 

“Howard, I’m not your little sister. You can put your hands a little lower,” you teased. He still hesitated, so you took his hands in yours and moved them down. His hands feel warm against the fabric of your dress, and it's a feeling so addictive that it only strengthens the not-so-tiny crush you have on him.

“Better?” you asked.

“Better.”

You took this time to take in his appearance. He was wearing his Air Force issued olive suit. His usual floppy hair was brushed back and his mustaches neatly trimmed. Even in the midst of war, dancing at these parties with your favorite bombardier had provided you with a sense of much needed calmness.

The two of you swayed to the slow song the band was playing as you made small talk. You loved hearing the small details that made his day better. Like how his coffee was perfect this morning, or that the mission he went on earlier today was successful. However, he said that the best part of his day was seeing how pretty you looked in your dress and how your smile lit up the room. You had blushed at his last comment, knowing he was generally a flirt, but it had an effect on you every single time. You also filled him in on what happened with Bucky and his unfortunate love life. He laughed when you told him how long you were stuck there for, and you gently swatted him on the shoulder for doing so.

“But really, thanks for the assist. You were my real knight in shining armor earlier. What could I ever do to repay you?” you joked dramatically.

“A kiss should be enough.”

You froze at his answer. You knew it was a joke, but what if he was serious? Was this your chance to finally tell him how you feel?

Hambone, on the other hand, was panicking. A million thoughts had raced through his head. Had he gone too far? What if you never wanted to see him again and he had lost you as a friend, or‒

Before he could think another thought, you took his head in your hands and kissed him. It was a feeling he had imagined many times, but none of those compared to the real thing. He was trying to commit all of it to memory, from the flowery scent of your perfume to the cotton fabric of your dress under his hands. But the thing he loved the most was the way your thumbs gently brushed across his cheeks, attempting to pull him down to deepen the kiss.

When you finally had to separate for air, you searched his face for any signs of disgust or regret. Instead, you were met with that gold-tooth smile that you loved. That smile was dangerous, almost lethal, to the rhythm of your heart, and it made you wonder if he knew he had this effect on you. You then noticed the amount of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his, making you giggle.

“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” he asked. He was still close to your face, trying to memorize every freckle, and that crinkle in your eyes when you smiled. He noticed that the scar on your right eyebrow was almost fully healed. He was with you during that accident, even talking with you for hours in case you had a concussion and was told not to fall asleep.

You took your thumb and swiped it across his lips. Then, you turned it around to show him the red pigment. He gave you a hum of amusement, satisfied with the result.

“Might as well get a little more.”

This time, he leaned to kiss you. This kiss is more passionate, almost as if it was fueled by months of pining and stolen glances. He pulled you in closer so that your bodies were flush, causing you to gasp into the kiss. He would’ve stayed here forever if he could, with you in his arms and not a single worry plaguing his mind.

You pulled away from him when you heard the sounds of cheering coming from his original table. Douglass and Blakely were still there, now joined by Brady and Crosby. Hambone had no doubt in his mind that they were gossiping about how they wouldn’t have to endure him pining over you every second of the day anymore.

Hambone walked back over with you under his arm and a grin on his face. More cheers came from the men, along with a few ‘congrats’ and ‘about time’s sprinkled in. You attempted to hide your blushing cheeks in Hambone's shoulder, not aware that your mutual feelings for each other were painfully obvious to everyone else.

“Red looks good on you,” Douglass said as he tossed Hambone a napkin to clean himself up. He doesn’t realize just how much of your lipstick is on him until he sees the amount he wipes off. You look at him with a smirk, almost proud of the way you marked his lips with red hue. 

“I bet it does,” he agrees as he looks over to you with love in his eyes.

[luminouslywriting]

this doesn’t need to be a full headcanon because I don’t think you can put much substance into this but who do you think tries to dirty talk in his letters? I just know if Bucky were the pale pal type he’d write the 40s equivalent of 50 shades whereas buck would never even think about asking his girl to send a booby pic in her next letter.

Nonny, you’re so right is the thing ��� And I do have a few thoughts below. Cut for length, more under the cut, light spice sprinkled in.

Bucky Egan:

My entire evidence for this is @precious-little-scoundrel and her Julie Jean and Bucky letters….so if you haven’t read those, you’re missing OUT and you need to go read it immediately. The archetype for everything tbh. But I have a few thoughts as well. Bucky is the type of person who writes out all of his intrusive thoughts in a letter—even the dirty ones, albeit very sweetly. He doesn’t mean to be crude, it just kinda happens. Would send saucy pictures for you as well 🤭

Hamilton Hambone:

This man, on the other hand, is the 1940s equivalent of a tumblr girlie writing x reader smut, okay?? Like those letters have to be BURNED afterwards because they make you blush and burn for one another. Absolutely treasures the letters you send him and hopes you’ll write things just as spicy.

Benny DeMarco:

Listen, I think it’s an accident but he just starts writing, doesn’t intend to send it to you AT ALL, and then tiredly sends the spicy letter before realizing his mistake. So there’s light amounts of wet dreams included in his letters along with missing certain parts of you, but it’s all balanced out and still pretty nice.

Rosie Rosenthal:

The definition of class and how to imply things between the lines. You can say quite a lot by not saying anything at all and he absolutely takes advantage of that. It’s on par with tactful smutty poetry tbh, but all still very respectful and loving.

[bellewintersroe]

Howard ‘Hambone’ Hamilton x Reader

When you, a British Red Cross nurse is taken in as a prisoner of war by the Germans you’re made to work in their hospitals, often taking care of soldiers from the axis. Much to your surprise the odd trickle of allied troops come in, not for very long, but when you meet a certain American airforce man, you’re swept off your feet.

18+ content, mentions of injuries, death, war (obviously), ptsd, threats of violence- it’s a heavy angsty 2 part? series ok. Part 1.

October 31st 1943:

Hambone’s eyes softened as you walked into the room, closing the curtains behind you to create his own private space. “Hi.” You’d smile gently to which Hambone would sit up straighter. “Hi.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Better if I didn’t eat that slime this morning.” Hambone muttered as you laughed softly, perching on the edge of his bed to feel his forehead with the back of your hand. “How’re you really feeling?”

“M’ okay, yeah.” The midwestern man responded as you made eye contact, sharing a sweet smile that made Hambone’s heart race. You truly were the only person he had whilst in this German hospital. With a broken shoulder, broken rib, punctured lung and torn up face you’d practically nursed him back to life over the past 3 weeks he’d spent here. A POW yourself, you understood the fear, the anxiety, the danger you were in. Hambone knew it was different for you, this hospital was your make shift home, it was either here or the dreaded camps. He couldn’t understand what was so bad about them, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know. Being a British cross nurse you were captured by the Germans back in 1942, a whole year ago. There was no use leaving you to rot inside some dingy camp, so they set you to work, where you could be handy in their hospital 12 miles east of Berlin.

“M’ gonna listen to your breathing. You need any painkillers today?” You muttered, pulling the stethoscope up and into your head. “Nah.” Hambone tried to relax, but the feeling of your hand going up his shirt drove him wild. On no planet did he think he’d be in a German hospital with a pretty English nurse, falling head over heels for her.

“Okay.” You’d whisper sending shivers down his back. “I thought you’d never come back after last night, you were busy?” The American continued talking as you felt a soft smile come to your face. “I was just about run off my feet.” Your smile made Hambone want to try harder to see you grin even more.

“Well, I wouldn’t blame you for having a lie down in here.” Finally, you’d giggle at his words, a sense of accomplishment filling Hambone. “Quiet for now, let me listen to you. Take a deep breath for me.” He did as he was told as you shifted your hand from the back, to then up the front of his top.

“Sorry.” You’d smile a little nervously, your hands bumping into each other as Howard found himself watching you with heavy lids. You were so close, the closest he’d been to anybody in weeks. You were trying your best to listen as carefully as possible, but the quickening of his heart rate distracted you. It happened often, whenever you got close his heart would accelerate, even with some deep breaths, you could hear the sound of his nerves.

“Sounds like your lungs healing up fine. Just need to get the rest of you better now.” You pulled the equipment back down around your neck, resting a hand on the edge of the cot.

“And leave you alone in here?” He charmed, an even bigger smile breaking out. Just when the both of you were distracted, your minds blissfully in their own world, the curtains snapped back causing your back to straighten and you to nearly jump out of your skin.

You didn’t move from Hambones bedside when you saw the SS officer there. You were simply frozen in your tracks, fearful and silent, eyes wide and jaw clenched shut. Howard eyed you up as well as the Nazi ahead of him. He’d never seen an officer dressed like this before, most of the men in here were young soldiers or physicians. They were majority all fine- but this man didn’t seem it. He had a cold expression, eyes narrowed and thin lips pressed together creating a sealed line where they met. There wasn’t an inch of emotion on his face, and perhaps that was scaring you more than anything.

“Amerikanerin, yes?” The SS officers head moved with robotic jolts, moving side to side between yourself and Hambone. Unsure of whether to answer, the two of you remained staring, until Hambone eventually nodded. From his side, he glanced to see your fist bundling around the bedsheets, drawing white from the pressure as you squeezed.

The SS officer then rolled his eyes to land on you, scanning you up and down in a more than obvious manner. It was intimidating to say the least, he almost moved like a mechanical object, every movement seemed planned and rigid. Hambone felt a wave of disgust and protectiveness run through him, the feelings he’d harboured for you were nothing short than pure adoration. Seeing your neck tense and hand grip the sheets from nothing but sheer terror made Hambone fidget uncomfortably. He wanted to reach out, yell at this scum to leave you alone, but he couldn’t.

“This is the Red Cross nurse.”

“Das ist die KrJaenschwester des Roten Kreuzes.” The doctor spoke from the side of the SS officer, looking intimidated and feeble beside the armed man. Hambone, watched, concerned and confused by the German, you however had spent enough time in their company to understand he was introducing you to the SS officer.

Remaining quiet, your eyes fell to the floor, only gazing up to catch a slight smirk drawing across the officers face. “Nurse?” He questioned, stepping closer, making you subconsciously inch closer to Hambone in the bed.

“From England, Ja?” He questioned, looking down upon you. “Yes.”

“What is wrong with him?” Timidly, you turned back to Hambone, his eyes bearing into yours, harbouring the same surprise and fear that the officer spoke English well.

“He’s got a broken shoulder, and a broken rib that punctured his lung.” Hambone watched as you touched your left side, indicating the same place where he had been wounded. You’d glanced up to the SS officer who listened along, expression unreadable. His striking eyes landed on you once more, staring into your soul like he could suck the life out of you at any minute. Hambone watched back, gawking at the officer before him.

“A-and he had a laceration down his cheek into his neck. He lost alot of blood.” You inhaled deeply, pointing at the jagged scar that had been roughly stitched up by a different German doctor, one that hadn’t cared as much as you would’ve. Peering up at the officer once more, he pushed his jaw forwards, scanning over Hambone like he was food on his dinner plate.

“You kept this man alive?!” He then spoke out, expression changing completely as he scanned between the German doctor at the door and yourself. The tone change in his voice made your stomach completely drop, unable to answer to his strange question. Of course you ‘kept him alive’, but you feared responding that to an enemies officer wouldn’t be the smartest thing.

With the lack of response, the room fell silent and the officer grew agitated with what he perceived to be rudeness. Before anybody could object, he raised his hand and struck a smack directly across your cheek. Startled and struck, you stumbled back, crying out at the sudden physical contact, but the shock that overcame you numbed the pain. Hambone felt his eyes bulge out of his head, an anger like nothing else seethed through his body. Now Hambone was an intelligent man, but when his emotions overcame him, it got the better of him. Everything moved in slow motion in your mind, yet Hambones actions happened so fast.

He’d hauled himself up, body still weak and broke, but he snatched at the officers uniform, grappling at him with a tense jaw. “Hambone, stop!” Crying out, you grappled against the wall, an instant fear filling you as you scrambled to intercept. The officer didn’t hesitate to pull out his gun, yelling curses and spitting towards Hambone.

“Stop! Stop!” A horror upon seeing the man at the barrel of the Nazi’s gun had you jumping between. “You can’t touch him! He’s a prisoner of war under the Geneva conditions and will be treated that way!” Despite the shake in your voice your tone was firm yet desperate.

The gun was still pointed towards Hambone, the man’s face twitched, searing in anger, eyes squinted and hand shaking as you’d bravely wedged yourself between what was probably the most dangerous situation of your life. “Tell him!” You’d ordered, eyes wide and snapping towards the startled doctor at the door. Upon his silence, a frantic sensation hurried through you once more.

“Tell him!”

“Sir, der Mann ist in unserer Obsorge. Ich kann nicht zulassen, dass du die Verantwortung für seinen Tod übernimmst.” The German words seemed to register something in the man’s head. The officer turned back to you, glancing you up and down once more before he backed away, turning his back on you both and stuffing his gun into his pocket, leaving the room with a spit of a curse in German.

When the doctor behind shot you a look of pure horror, he snatched the curtains closed and Hambone let out a sigh of relief. “Are you-”

“Don’t ever do that again.” You snapped, turning around to the American who still looked shaken from the whole situation. Hambone barely had time to register his thoughts before you were telling him off.

“You want to get yourself killed?!” Breathless, you felt tears prick at your eyes, terrified and shaken up from the whole encounter. Hambone watched back to you with a saddened gaze, shaking his head. Letting out a sigh, you found yourself relieved to be staring back at the blonde man, angry or not, you couldn’t deny the relief that he’d made it out of that encounter alive.

The American then shifted slightly, wincing and letting out a slight groan of pain as he attempted to ease back down into the bed. “Hambone.” You then found yourself sorrowful, seeing him in pain and recognising the man was only trying to protect you from the violence you’d grown so accustomed to over the past year. A hand reached up, stroking his hair out of his face before easing him back down so he was propped up against the bed, breathing heavily from the pain that continued to rattle through his side.

“Are you okay?” You hushed once more, but he found himself reaching out for your face, ignoring the pain he found himself in. “Your face.” He responded, finally speaking. His finger touched at the small gash on your cheekbone that spilt drips of blood down your cheek. Upon seeing you wounded, Hambone’s stomach clenched and churned.

“I’m fine.” You hushed, hand resting on his shoulder. “Just please never do that again.” As a tear fell, you dropped yourself into hug him, in utter disbelief that he managed to walk out of such a risky encounter. “Please.” You’d hushed into the embrace, feeling him lift his wounded hand to hold you closer with both arms.

“I won’t.” Hambone hushed, nudging his face into your hair, eyes fluttering shut as he held your body close despite the throbbing pain in his rib. Slowly, your breathing settled in his arms and your trembling body eventually calmed. Sensing this, Hambone retrieved his head, only pulling back to take a better look at your face.

Overtaken by emotions and the sense of impending doom, he didn’t hesitate to push his lips onto yours. Hell, he half expected you to pull away in disgust, but when you sunk into the kiss, it was more than he ever bargained for. A hand tightened around the back of your head, fingers pressing into your scalp and between strands of your hair as you pulled off with a gasp.

“Don’t ever do that again.” You reminded once more, Hambone, was momentarily left a little stunned, thinking you were talking about the kiss, but with another firm kiss to his mouth, he could lax once more, relieved in the comfort he at least had you through all this.

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 1

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer x Reader

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been receiving?

Warnings: Secret Admirer (could be cute, could be creepy, depends on how you see it.), Reader is part of the Red Cross Girls, Spoilers, possible mentions of injuries, death and warcrimes.

Word Count: ~1.2k

Masterlist Next Part

x x x

Thorpe Abbotts was abuzz before the sun peeked above the horizon. Many of the personnel had been busy throughout the night while the men who would be in the planes got as much rest as their minds and bodies would allow. You were amongst those who had been working through the early morning hours, preparing the Clubmobile to serve fresh donuts and hot coffee that were intended to carry the men through their dangerous and lengthy mission.

Helen stepped into the truck, a small stack of letters piled on top of the supply box in her grip. She set the box down on the chair in the corner, seperating the letters adressed to you from the ones adressed to the few other Red Cross ladies. “Early mail delivery.”

“Must be for morale, first combat mission for many of the men today.” You easily recognized the printing on the first envelope, a letter from back home just like the ones you had recieved every week since arriving to Thorpe Abbotts. The second envelope was unusual, void of a return adress and stamp, only your name was scrawled across the front. You gently peeled open the envelope, unfolding the sheet of paper to read the message inside.

“During our first encounter your presence washed over me like the English rain, soothing and all consuming. You have captured my attention and selfishly, I must admit that I don’t want you to ever let it go.”

The letter had no siganture or name to identify who had written it, only a creased bottom corner and a small coffee stain in the middle of the mostly empty sheet. You didn’t recognize the handwritting but admittedly, you had not seen the writing of the majority of personnel at Thorpe Abbotts. Your brain spun, shuffling through as many first encounters as your mind would allow but it was overwhelming, there were so many possibilites… too many possibilities.

“Everything alright?” Helen asked, her eyes glancing to the letter clutched tightly in your hands, worry creasing her brows. She hoped everything was okay at home, it was everyones nightmare to recieve bad news from home while being on a whole other continent, so close to a raging war.

“Oh,” You quickly folded the letter, tucking it back into its envelope. “Yes, everything is fine.”

You were sure Helen was skeptical, feeling her eyes following your movements as you tucked both letters into your coat. The men trickling out from their quarters was enough to distract both of you from the coffee stained paper.

“I don’t recall such a welcoming committee when I arrived.”

The sudden voice behind you had been startling, you turned to find the handsome Major leaning against the open window of the truck.

“I do recall being in this very spot while you rushed right passed, Major.” You sent the man a polite smile, adding to the stack of paper coffee cups, “Surely you were focused on the business at hand.”

“That must have been it, I’d like to think I would have introduced myself otherwise.“

You were thankful for the roar of planes flying overheard, the arrival of his men drew his attention away from the heat pooling in your cheeks. “That is my cue. Enjoy your day, ma’am.”

The soldiers came in waves, stumbling across the clubmobile on their way to settle in. Many men lined up for the provisions you offered; hot coffee, fresh donuts, cigarettes, the newspaper and even the occasional magazine.

You sent the next in line a smile, one nearly tripping over his own boots as his friend nudged him forward. “Gentlemen, what may I offer you today?”

The dark haired soldier leaned on the window ledge that seperated you, sending you what you could only assume to be intended as a charming smirk. “If a ‘gentle’ man is what you are looking for, then that is what I shall be.”

It certainly had not been the first attempt at flirting you had experienced in the day, but generally the men had kept it tame, calling you pretty in some way or asking to take you for a harmless drink. You let your distaste for the comment show on your face, choosing to adress the amused man at his side.

“May I offer you anything?”

“Just two cups of coffee and cigarettes, thank you.”

You placed only one cup of black coffee on the ledge along with the requested cigarettes, offering a polite smile. “When your friend learns how to speak to women respectfully then he may make requests. Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts.”

Your eyes briefly found those of the dark haired man, his mouth slightly agap with your words before he was pulled out of the line by his now laughing friend.

The line faded quickly, the men moving along to find their Quarters to settle in as soon as they were served. The coffee urns were empty, only a single cup of black coffee leftover from the gallons that had been brewed. Helen had just began to clean when the last few men to arrive wandered through. You had heard through whispers that one plane had been seperated from formation, missing in the clouds. It had flown overhead a short time ago and you assumed these were those lost men. Most passed without stopping for a treat, settling in on the forefront of their minds but one staggered up to the open window.

“Anything left?”

“I’ve always got extra cigarettes or the newspaper on hand, one last cup of coffee if thats what you’re looking for.”

The solider accepted the lone paper cup, sniffing the bitter liquid before taking a large gulp. The boldness helped relieve the putrid smell of vomit from his nostrils. It was fragrent on the plane because his navigator was unable to control his air sickness, but the scent seemed to stuck in his nose as it was still the only thing he could smell, until the coffee anyway.

“You got any gum?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder at two men who were busy chatting amongst themelves. You slide a small package of mint gum across the ledge, watching as stalked toward the two soldiers, throwing the gum to the dark haired one without more than a simple ‘Heads up’.

Your first encounters with many of the men circled your mind as you lay on your bed, the letter once again clutched between your fingers. Major Egan, Douglass and Blakely, Hambone, Crosby and Bubbles, Curt and Dickie. Your first interactions with many of the soldiers were friendly introductions, none had stuck out to you as anything other than kind or mildly flirty.

He had never intended on you reading the letter, it had been written in a futile attempt to rid you from the forefront of his mind. He surely wasn’t a fool, you were far too good for a man like him but he had been completely taken by your warm presence. Unable to ease the yearn he felt for you, anchoring deeper every morning when you happily served what the military had insisted to be coffee.

It may have been a presumptious move on his part but he just couldn’t help himself.

He had snuck the letter into the mail carriers bag when he was delivering letters to the men as they ate was being labelled as ‘breakfast’.

x x x

Tags: @canyousmelltheflowers

[bejeweledblondie]

Peggy, The Pin Up

-

A/N: I apologize for being MIA I’ve had a lot of very great but time consuming things take over my life! I’ve started a 1940s vintage clothing blog & I’m shocked at how successful it has become. On top of that I’ve got promotions at work & it’s opened so many doors for me. I’m hoping to write a bit more!

Warnings: classic 1940’s sexism, mentions of nudity, female pronouns

Summary: Y/N never expected for her pin up prints to be put out… it causes some disruption on Abbott-Thorpe & one dark curly haired aviator comes to her rescue

It all happened on a Thursday morning at breakfast. Y/N sat there in her crisp white uniform shoveling the chalky yellow substance the army called eggs in her mouth. A dark shadow appeared above her plate & a magazine was plopped down in front of her.

“Don’t even try to deny it, this is you isn’t it?” He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. Speechless she looked away & noticed that the Army’s shipment of Esquire hit the shelves. “God who knew? We knew you were a tease, but this is just another level.” He started. “Do you know what everyone says about you?” She shook her head shamefully, lying to herself. She had heard rumblings in the sick bay from time to time. Sometimes while fixing a patients IV bag or a even helping move a patient a hemline might rise causing a stir.

Before the pilot could continue his chauvinistic teasing session she immediately grabbed her belongings & swiftly exited. Little did she know a dark curly haired pilot was watching the torment happen. Due to rank he couldn’t intervene but oh he so badly wanted to bury the man six feet under. He had grown fond of the nurse, she was always so kind with his men. Incredibly soft spoken & nurturing when it came to the care she provided. He had walked in on her reading a copy of John Steinbeck’s, “Of Mice & Men” to the wounded pilots one evening. She didn’t have to do that, she could’ve been out dancing at the Officer’s Club. But she voluntarily chose to stay after her shift to read to them. He could tell the men greatly appreciated it too, it gave them a small window of comfort during an incredibly traumatic moment in their lives.

Douglass, also watching the debacle rolled his eyes & sipped his coffee.

“These men act like they’ve never seen tits before it’s insane.” He scoffed. Rosie almost choked on the toast he was eating.

“I mean some are freshly turned eighteen.” Blakely reminded him.

“Still, this is going to cause a huge fucking problem.” He swore. “Rosenthal, you okay?” Rosie had been staring off into the space during the duration of the conversation.

“Go to her,” Douglass sighed. “She may be oblivious but I’m not. You’ll also want to scoop her before someone like Egan does.” With that Rosie excused himself & started to head towards the medical ward. The sterile white environment contrasted heavily from the drab olive green darkness of the mess hall. Injured pilots laid in beds reading the paper, being fed their morning breakfast, or having their vitals taken. Valerie, a nurse he knew was friendly with Y/N was checking the vitals on a young sergeant.

“Val!” He said getting her attention & started over to her. “Have you seen Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah, she seemed a bit off,” She started. “She begged Major to allow her to just work in supply today. You might wanna try there.”

“Thank you.” Rosie replied & made his way to the supply room. There she stood sniffling & rolling gauze. Her eyes were clouded with a melancholy look as she completed the mundane task. He knocked on the door frame causing her to look up slightly startled.

“Oh Major Rosenthal it’s you,” She said with a slight tremble in her voice. “What can I do for you?” He cringed at her using his rank, usually it would make his blood pressure rise & heart race. But this circumstance was entirely different.

“I saw what happened in the chow hall,” He started. She’s started to wipe away tears. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He said wringing anxiously. She sighed deeply & looked away.

“I’ll be alright,” She stated. “I’m just going to lay low for a few weeks.” It broke his heart to see her this way. She was always a little jumpy & anxious to begin with. This situation just poured gasoline on a oil fire.

“No,” Rosie stated. “You shouldn’t let some asshole make you feel uncomfortable.” She stared him with big wide eyes. “If it makes you feel any better I’ll escort you places.” Her eyes softened as she listened to him. A small crimson warmth crept onto her cheeks at the mere mention of him escorting her.

After a few weeks, the heat died out about the pin up nurse. Rosie & Y/N had become closer over the weeks. His protection meant no one would even try to touch a hair on her head. From lingering touches, longing gazes, & of course Rosie sitting on her nightly readings to the wounded pilots. He (like every man on post who took a liking to her) did keep a copy of the pin up photo.

On missions he’d keep the folded piece of paper tucked into the pocket of his sheepskin. A reminder of what he was protecting & fighting for. His calloused thumb would graze over her innocent smile as he admired the image. Even in his bunk, he’d spend some alone time with it after everyone had fallen asleep. During one night after the pin up photo was brought up by a rookie pilot, & in turn making Y/N uncomfortable. Rosie knew he had to make her see what he saw in the photo. After some discussions with Ken Lemmons, he decided to really make sure he was reminded everyday was he was fighting for.

With hands covering her eyes he directed her to the airstrip.

“Rosie I can’t see!” Y/N giggled, tripping over her own feet. He chuckled at her natural clumsiness. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, you’re so impatient.” He said. He lead her right up the nose to his beloved bomber. “Okay now you can see.” With the removal of his hands & a adjustment to the sunlight she was staring at herself painted on the side of his bomber. The same pin up that graced Esquire months ago that brought them together. She gasped in pure shock at the artwork.

“Oh, Rosie.” She gasped unable to speak. “Did you paint this?”

“With a little help from Lemmons.” He replied. “I want you to see what I see. A beautiful woman. Do you like it?”

“I-wow,” She smiled. “I love it.” She turned around to face him. He was staring down her, admiring the way the sun light reflected off her hair. He brushed stray strands of hair behind her ear. His hand lightly danced across her cheek bone as he stared adoringly into her eyes. He leaned down & placed a tender kiss onto her lips. She reciprocated & kissed back. Her arms wrapped around his neck & his slowly gravitated to her waist pulling her in closer. After pulling a part they rested foreheads against one another.

“God you have no idea how long I’ve always wanted to do that,” He admitted.

[cosmicoatlatte]

────── ☆ kinktober 2024

preferences - quickie

characters: john 'bucky' egan, gale 'buck' cleven, marjorie 'marge' spencer, curtis 'curt' biddick, robert 'rosie' rosenthal, harry crosby, joseph 'bubbles' payne, james douglass, everett blakely, howard 'hambone' hamilton, john brady, ken lemmons, bernard 'benny' demarco

☆ — John 'Bucky' Egan

Oh he is an absolute menace when it comes to sex. With Bucky the one thing you can count on is that all quickies will be followed with longer proper sex in a timely manner and vice versa. If he takes you apart at night he’ll come back for more in the morning, if you two disappear during a function you’ll get a reward once you get home. He always gets horny at the most inconvenient times too. On more than one occasion he’s been late for work because he just had to have you and who are you to deny him when you crave him just as much. Quickies with John are the best distraction. Even though the two of you aren’t strangers to getting it on outside your home he absolutely hates the thought of somebody catching the two of you in the act. You're his and he doesn't share. 

☆ — Gale 'Buck' Cleven

Even though Gale is a very thoughtful lover he is quick to underestimate just how fast he can bring you pleasure. Gale acts under the misguided assumption that proper sex is the only way to go. He likes taking his time and focusing on you first and foremost and quickies just seem to prioritize a man's pleasure. To him it would feel an awful lot like he is just using you and that's just not what you want to be about. Now you can definitely try and start something, corner him in an unsuspecting moment and get on your knees for him, but trust that Gale will find a way to thoroughly pamper you like you deserve. 

☆ — Marjorie 'Marge' Spencer

Marge is a tease and she knows it. Even though she's a fan of quickies, they're almost never quick. She likes to be a little mean, get you all hot and bothered, right on the edge of bliss and then step away to watch you crumble. She'll have you on your knees so fast. If you beg nicely she might even let you eat her out. It's only fair that at least one of you gets to come. And oh how sweet she sounds when she comes around your fingers, dripping against your tongue. She takes it so well, but she gives even better. If you're lucky she'll just play with you for a day, pulling you aside for quickies throughout the day. But maybe she decides that you need to wait a little longer. Poor you. Marge won't even let you take care of yourself. Afterall, that's her job. 

☆ — Curtis 'Curt' Biddick

When it comes to making you fall apart Curtis is a lover and a fighter. So whenever he isn't hellbent on keeping you in his bed for days on end he is a big fan of quickies. There is just something about fast fucking as opposed to making love that makes his blood rush through his body. He has no qualms about his friends knowing just why exactly he disappeared during a night out, even though he's a gentleman that doesn't kiss and tell. He just sends you back out to rejoin the group with a slap on the ass and his come slowly running down the inside of your thigh.

☆ — Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal

With Rosie quickies are more of a rarity. He's not against them, not at all, but to him it just takes away a lot of the intimacy. He doesn't just love the act itself but also foreplay. If it were up to him he'd take his time, every time. Do it properly. Do you properly. But just because he strongly prefers longer moments between you doesn't mean he doesn't indulge. It's a little selfish treat, even if all he does is make you come on his tongue. Rosie could stand to be a little more subtle about it though, because he has the tendency to be in an exceptionally good mood after. His humming is very endearing.

☆ — Harry Crosby

Your Harry has the tendency to get stuck in his own head, poor thing, but luckily he has you to get him unstuck. It might be a dirty method but it works. If it were completely up to him then the two of you would take your time together but he must admit that there is something freeing about giving in when his pretty partner tries to work his pants open. For you, he’ll give in every time. Quickies come with less expectations and less awkwardness. 

☆ — Joseph 'Bubbles' Payne

If there is one thing that you need to know about Bubbles is that he likes to sneak off and get off. Quickies are just near and dear to his heart and it only makes sense that he, as a navigator, knows all the best places for the two of you to get it on. You don't always end up in lockable rooms but neither of you are all too concerned about that. Not that you have much brain left to think when he crowds you into a closet and fucks you hard enough to see stars. If some poor unfortunate soul walks in on you his pace might stutter but he'll be damned if he stops fucking you. He will yell at them to get out and then he'll make you come. 

☆ — James Douglass

To say this man is prepared for whenever you need him would be an understatement. And truly he's a genius because there's no telling when the mood strikes and because he has rubbers stored all over the place you never have to stop and get any. Doesn't matter where you want him. Closets, bathrooms, offices, random secluded corners. As long as it's with you it's paradise for him. His skilled fingers are always itching to get you ready for him. You’re his first priority, trust he’ll find a way to come even if you have to part before both of you reach your peak. 

☆ — Everett Blakely

When it comes to sucking, proper vs. quickie, he is very 50/50. He's a well-balanced man that knows the two satisfy very different urges. He loves fucking you thoroughly, taking his time to tease you and make you melt but sometimes quickies are just the thing the two of you need. Whenever there's a chance to combine them he's doing so. Giving you a taste of what awaits you before taking you out or making sure you’ll be squirming all day waiting for him to come home. Because there's one thing that for certain it's that Ev Blakely makes his girl come.

☆ — Howard 'Hambone' Hamilton

He is absolutely insatiable but you wouldn't want him any other way. More often than not things with him start out fully meant to be just a quick fuck and then turn into nasty long sex that keeps you occupied and leaves your legs shaking. It's not uncommon that instead of disappearing during an event for a little bit the two of you just arrive belated. When quickies stay quick he will have you hard and fast. He has surprisingly good stamina and can keep up his pace. Ham can’t help it, you look so pretty with tears brimming on your lashes. What is a dining room table made for if not for eating?

☆ — John Brady

Johnny is an absolute romantic 100%. He loves taking his time giving you all the attention that you deserve. But sometimes he just needs you. Be it pure adrenaline rushing through his veins or some teasing taken too far, there are just times when he can't take it anymore and just needs to get it out of his system. John wants you without much care about when and where but he's always careful not to get caught. He loves you and doesn't want anybody else to see you in that situation. The way your face looks twisted and pleasure is for his eyes only. 

☆ — Ken Lemmons

When it comes to making you come Ken knows all the ways he can make you reach your high hard and fast but he prefers proper sex over quickies. It's just something he enjoys more, taking his time, making you come again and again. But sometimes the two of you just don't get the chance and have to make do. Not that it's a hardship to have your wrapped around him even for a short amount of time. He doesn't need long to satisfy you. And seeing you like that just helps build up his hunger. 

☆ — Bernard 'Benny' DeMarco

Benny would be crazy to turn down any chance to be with you but he's rarely the one to initiate a quickie. He likes to savor the moment and make love, not just fuck. Now if you were to come to him desperate for release begging please Benny please obviously he'd be on his knees before you know it, it's the polite thing to do. When there's a chance to draw things out and give you the long proper fucking you need he’ll will take it. Loves kissing you through it because he wants you to know how much you mean to him. 

[luminouslywriting]

hi love, wishing you a speedy and uncomplicated recovery <3

do you have any hambone headcanons? spicy or not both are more than appreciated! I just feel like he doesn’t get enough love

Hi love! The recovery has been a little bit rough and I'm still bleeding quite a bit. I feel worse today than I felt yesterday, which is not it. But I welcome any and all requests to help me distract myself from the pain!

Cut for length, more under the cut, some light spice sprinkled in:

-Unashamed wife guy who proclaims adoration in somewhat filthy, yet flattering ways

-Very into dirty talk during sex

-Is the type of man who is into acts of service; will go and fill up the gas tank for the car, buys you the flower seeds you've been eying for the past little while, and makes sure that you have enough lotion when it's getting low

-Likes to tag along when you have errands to do because he likes spending time with you

-Likes reading, but some of the more American classics like Huckleberry Finn, Moby Dick, that sorta thing

-Enjoys late morning cuddles and doesn't like getting up early if he doesn't have to

-Has a daddy kink

-And is really into a breeding kink, wants dozens of little Hamilton children running around

-Simply adores physical affection and loves giving it back in whatever ways he can; he particularly enjoys tickling and the way that you laugh when he tickles you

-Super into teasing, especially in public and will not/cannot be discouraged otherwise

-Car sex and bathroom sex in public places

-Is kind of good in the kitchen, given time and ingredients? Don't get me wrong through, he's got a bone for mischief and needs supervision, lest a food fight be started

-Water fights that turn into sex in the garden in the backyard

-Affectionately a menace and has a particularly high sex drive which leaves you unable to walk for minimum of a day

-Not great at caretaking, though he tries his best; the best he can offer is some words of support and his presence

-Definitely got several pets the minute he got home

-Will take you dancing and then the two of you will duck out early for the night and not a single person would bat an eye

-Really into praise and compliments, especially during pillow talk. Speaking of pillow talk, he'll need to be trained on that front, because he just does NOT know what he's supposed to do after sex haha.

-Car rides to see sunsets

-He strikes me as the type of guy who likes to go camping in the summer

[luminouslywriting]

Hi,

I hope you’re doing well after your surgery and I wish u the best, hope you feel better soon <3,

You’ve opened a can of worms here and I NEED to hear about Hambone and his dirty talk, I’m sorry, he just gives off such feral vibes (in the best way)

<3 u

This gif is actual footage of me attempting to get my brain and thoughts under control while coming up with a suitable answer for you haha. Sorry if it's not the best....I split my stitches tonight and started bleeding again—so that means I'm back to taking it easy!

That being said, my requests for MOTA and BoB are open and I love spam, so keep sending your asks/requests in!

More under the cut, cut for length, mature content below:

-Hambone Hamilton III? This man right up here? Filthy mouth, filthy thoughts, constantly swearing during sex and the foreplay haha

-It's not JUST the swearing though....it's the way that this man so explicitly can just whisper what he's going to do to you and what reaction you're going to have while you're in the middle of a group dinner date, dancing, or at his parents' house okay??

-He's very very very descriptive in an almost crude (though it's certainly lovable) way. And yes, this in and of itself is a turn on because when those vivid images start to flood your mind, there's just no stopping it

-Is almost more rough with sex because of it?? Like he's just getting warmed up and promising you that you'll be screaming his name within the next few minutes.

-He wants the neighbors to hear and understand just how loved and cherished you are—in the dirtiest way haha

-It's not degrading though—he'd never dream of calling you any of those rough names or things that aren't very kind....

-However, he's into the whole "you can take it" sort of encouragement and telling you exactly what you're going to look like by the time he's done with you

-And heaven forbid you're eating any sort of food in his presence—because he's going to take that and run with that. He'll slide up to your side and start whispering about how you can fit so much in your mouth and he'd love to see—THAT'S ENOUGH HAMMY, WE ARE AT A POTLUCK!

-Also just starts telling you quietly about how hard you make him and how he wants to take you into the nearest car or room and discipline you for making him feel this way (I'm sorry, the brat taming has made a reappearance, but this man is a dom okay??)

-Perfectly verbose in the best and the worst of times—timing is not this man's forte

[luminouslywriting]

I know several of the guys irl got married super young like Kenny Lemmons and Hambone (who is actually younger than Ken?) and I just want to imagine what married life was like with them because they were so young even when they came back home and just being domestic with them…

Nonny, this is super cute and I wanted to expand on it for both Hammy and Lemmons, so here you are!

Cut for length, light spice sprinkled in, let me know if you want expansions on them??:

Married life with Ken Lemmons:

-It's honestly a dream come true—he's the sweetest and most attentive husband in the world. He's the type of man who calls you sweetheart and all of the cute pet names and is an actual definition of a wife guy.

-He's out here planning out the future with you and preemptively painting a nursery because he wants a family with you.

-The type of husband who is really big on communication and figuring things out together. You rarely argue with this man and he hates to be in arguments—never raises his voice or gets angry about really anything.

-Loves dancing with you on the porch.

-Very gifted with his hands and likes making you homemade gifts....and making you come apart in very calculated efficient strokes

-Baths together where water fights, bubbles, and makeout sessions are plentiful

-Getting turned on when he's doing mechanical work of any sort or yard work haha

-Probably wants a big family and wants to start ASAP, so yes there's a breeding kink

-Also the best for dealing with any sort of sickness or chronic illness; he's super patient and likes to dote on you

-Likes going on vacations to the East Coast with you

-Probably prefers the suburbs or to be far away from the city so that life is a little more peaceful

-Car sex

-The best cuddles and pillow talk is the softest most wholesome thing in the world

-Married life with him is probably super sweet and almost picket white fence, but in the best way

Married life with Hamilton Hambone:

-This man is really just full of adoration for everything that you do and the way that he expresses that is through physical affection and sex haha

-Dirty talk is plentiful in this marriage—and so is the flirting and body praise for the both of you

-Dirty photograph sessions and he keeps a few of them in his wallet at all times

-Public teasing and a thing for hair pulling

-Likes doing the dishes with you

-Hammy likes sneaking up behind you and giving you a hug from behind

-He likes to spoil you as much as he can; it's little trinkets like bracelets or new gloves or ribbons for your hair

-This man is kinky af and into things with lots of laces or corsets haha

-Loves going out to dance parties or jazz clubs to date you; and always brags about you to his friends

-Likes to sweep you off of your feet, quite literally—and that always leads to some precarious and creative positions in many places around your home

-Likes reading with you at nighttime—or rather, he likes listening to you read at nighttime and it helps calm him down

-Loves summer pool parties and when you show off the goods (limited viewership of course haha)

-Married life with him is probably super spontaneous and fun, full of surprises and excitement at every turn

[millie-multifics]

Though I Yearn • Part 2

Masters of the Air

Secret Admirer x Reader

A string of anonymous letters causes a stir at Thorpe Abbotts. Who could be the author of the tender correspondence you have been receiving?

Warnings: Reader is a “Red Cross Girl”, cringe flirting, alcohol consumption

Word Count: ~1.1k

Masterlist Previous Next

x x x

The pub was loud. The small space was filled to the brim with American and British soldiers, a few locals sprinkled in the mix. Men cheered as they gambled, the smell of beer and stronger liquor filled the air while cigarette smoke created a haze. You needed some fresh air, your senses becoming momentarily overwhelmed.

You lay your hand on Helen’s arm to pull her attention away from the gossip the other ladies were sharing, “I am going to get some air.”

“Are you sure you are alright?” She asked, still skeptical as you had seemed for distracted the past few weeks.

“Of course, just need some air.”

The letter had been on your mind, the possability of who may have written had been consuming your thoughts just as they claimed you had been consuming theirs. Every time the mail was delivered you waited patiently, hoping that maybe another anonymous letter would arrive. The message had seemed sweet so you were not concerned with ill intention, just curious as to whom it could be.

The fresh air felt good against your skin, the warm air in the pub had made you feel clammy. You leaned against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed as your fingers traced the grooves in the old brick. The street was quiet, only a small bit of noise emitting from the pub and a few passing cars. The sound of boots stumbling out of the pub had you opening your eyes, your brow furrowed as your easily recognized the navigator as he stepped into the light.

“Bubbles?” You were concerned, he did not seem like the type to overconsume. “Are you alright?”

He looked as clammy as you had previously felt, fatigue weighing down his limbs as you approached. “Not feeling too hot, calling my night early.”

You nodded, “Would you like me to walk back with you?”

“I should be alright, enjoy your night ma’am.”

When you returned to the pub, the table that you had previously occupied was empty, the ladies scatttered around in their own conversations. You were thankful that for a moment Helen wouldn’t have the chance to treat you like you were a fragile egg. Though you enjoyed the quiet of sitting alone for a moment, it was interupted much too soon by James Douglass, a man you were not to keen on as he stood across the table with his much more tolerable friend, Everett Blakely.

“You look a little lonely over here, mind if we sit?”

You nearly glared at the bombardiers audacity, but managed to keep it at bay. “If I say yes, I am making it clear now that I will not be interested in anything other than just a friendly chat, ever.”

“That has been taken into consideration.” His body fell into the opposing chair, his friend taking the other much more gracfully. “So what has got you so blue?”

You huffed, leaning your chin on your hand as you thought. “The English rain.”

He sent you a questioning look, eyebrow raised with skepticism. “But it ain’t raining.”

You cross the man off the mental list of potential authors, eyes landing on the quiet pilot who seemed to be hiding a smirk behind lighting a cigarette. You wondered if maybe the Pilot could be the mysterious author, but you figured you did not know the man well enough to make an informed decision. Though, you would not mind if he was the culprit as he was quite handsome.

James glanced around the pub, his eyes briefly pausing on the group of Red Cross ladies that had accumulated in the corner, more so one in particular. “Listen, I would like to make an exchange. Your friend-“

“Helen?”

“Can you put in a good word for me?” He borderline begged, trying his best attempt at ‘puppy dog’ eyes.

“Is he always this desperate?” You asked the pilot, who merely just shrugged at his friends dog antics. “What is the exchange?”

“A dance. You were sitting here looking terribly alone before I sat down.”

“You are an asshole, you know that?” You scoffed, your arms crossing over your chest as you leaned back against the chair to get a broader view of the men in front of you.

“Are you sweet on her or are you just interested in being a ‘gentle’ man?”

Your callback to your first encounter on arrival day had his reassuring smile resembling more of a grimace, knowing that if he lied to you would likely just tell him off.

“You are insufferable, but fine. My word is only going to be as strong as this proposition was.”

He seemed to accept your response as he stood from the chair, straightening the ends of his jacket before offering his hand to you. “The dance floor awaits.”

As you accepted the outstretched hand you turned to the pilot being left on his lonesome. “Have a good night, Lieutenant Blakely.”

You sent Douglass a playful yet stern glare as he led you through the crowded pub, causing you to bump shoulders with many of the men who were trying to enjoy their evening. When you reached a large enough clearning in the crowd he stopped, twirling you until you were face to face. “No funny business, hands stay above the waist… and no touching any bits and bobs above that either.”

The hand he was about to place on your backside quickly corrected itself to rest on your spine, “Cross my heart and swear to die.”

Soon it was time to stumble back to Thorpe Abbotts, all the men and women eager to rest their tired heads unknowing that they would be woken in just a few short hours to prepare for another tirade. You would have missed it in the darkness of the billet if the moon had not been shining through the small window above your bed. The white envelope propped against your pillow, only your name sprawled across the front in pen, identical to the previous letter you had recieved. As the other ladies peacefully slept, you sat under the moonlight with more questions than ever running through your head.

“I yearn to approach you so freely, take you into my arms for a dance and confess my admiration. Though I yearn, I cannot allow myself to taint such a beautiful flower and so I stay, watching from a far as you dance in the arms of another.”

x x x

Tags: @canyousmelltheflowers

I’m glad you are enjoying this one so far ❤️❤️@jointherebellion215 @gretagerwigsmuse

[cosmicoatlatte]

────── ☆ kinktober 2024

preferences - marking

characters: john 'bucky' egan, gale 'buck' cleven, marjorie 'marge' spencer, curtis 'curt' biddick, robert 'rosie' rosenthal, harry crosby, joseph 'bubbles' payne, james douglass, everett blakely, howard 'hambone' hamilton, john brady, ken lemmons, bernard 'benny' demarco, charles 'crank' cruikshank

☆ — John 'Bucky' Egan

Leave marks. Oh please please mark him up. Just give him something that proves it’s real. Bite the soft inside of his thighs until he’s whimpering. Bruise his ribs with your knees. Kiss him until his lips are swollen. Dig your nails into his skin. He wants to be claimed so desperately. It’s a thing of pride for him when others see the marks so he’s not going to hide them but if he’s feeling humble he won’t purposefully brag about them to the guys. Did get in trouble for visible hickeys before. Will get in trouble for visible hickeys again. 

John is a biter. He needs to keep his mouth busy and what better way to do that then to taste your skin. He’s gentle until you tell him otherwise. The amount of hickeys on your neck and chest is just obscene. 

100% a boob sucker. That doesn’t have anything to do with marking you up. It just needed to be said.

 

☆ — Gale 'Buck' Cleven

He is a straightforward guy when it comes to leaving marks on you. On the rare occasion that he wants to stake a claim, a singular, well placed love bite, just light enough not to be obvious unless you're looking, graces your skin. Almost discreet. Almost able to pass as a mistake. But Gale knows better and truthfully so do you. 

Gale's not one to parade around his private matters especially when it comes to intimate details but some small marks can pass under his watchful eye. Love bites show so easily on his alabaster skin but you might get away with some neat nail marks across his back or bold lipstick smudges. If you place them carefully enough.

☆ — Marjorie 'Marge' Spencer

Marge thinks she’s being sneaky when she leaves lipstick marks on your skin or clothes but it happens far too often for it to be simply accidental. Compared to those rather tame public marks, things like deep scratches from her nails or hickeys are rare because she's careful not to leave any.

Similarly Marge isn't big on marks on herself. She prefers subtle signs of your love, but if you're sweet she’ll let you get away with a few. Somewhere she can hide them. The side of her chest or the inside of a thigh, somewhere only she can see them.

☆ — Curtis 'Curt' Biddick

Oh he is just begging for you to rake your nail down his back, bite his shoulder, suck deep purple bruises into his skin. Curt loves showing off, his skills and bed and the fact that he has you. There's some limits, knowing the boys could see them. Nothing too close to the belt because you’re a respectable lady, they don't need to know how much you enjoy sucking his dick.

When Curt marks you up it's subtle. Surprisingly. A faint love bite or some hand shaped bruises on the meat of your hips where he held onto you. Even though you have to beg for the latter, plead for him to be rough. Can't have anybody thinking he’d lay hands on his woman, you know?

☆ — Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal

Rosie isn't too bad when it comes to leaving marks on you. He's not possessive but things happen and sometimes you'll end up with a love bite or two. Circular, where the curve of your neck meets your shoulder. Easily hidden by the neckline of a blouse. Nothing scandalous. If he's feeling like he needs to stake a claim he'd rather offer you his jacket or stay physically close to you.

On himself though? Oh boy, does he love it. The guys might tease him for the scratches on his back or the marks on his neck but he feels nothing but pride at the thought of being claimed by you. (He is being claimed. This man is a total catch and you need to make sure everybody knows that he is taken and off limits.) Touches them throughout the day as a reminder that they’re there. Maybe smiles to himself a little.

☆ — Harry Crosby

Your Harry’s a little shy when it comes to the marks you leave on him. Hiding them away and blushing in a beautiful deep red whenever somebody points them out. But his bashfulness just makes you want to leave them even more. As his confidence grows so does his pride at being marked. He treats his girl well and gets rewarded for it, nothing special. He still spends time looking at the reminders of your love on his skin in mirrors whenever he has the chance.

When it comes to leaving his mark on you he’s rather careful though. It's one thing to come across your soft skin (and really, such a shame he didn't finish inside of you) but the thought of sending you out into the world all visibly loved up gives him an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

☆ — Joseph 'Bubbles' Payne

It doesn’t even matter if you want to mark Bubbles up or not. Your sweet man bruises like a peach so even the softest nibble is going to leave a spot. Not that he minds at all. There’s nothing but pride in his heart at the thought of carrying around your affection and showing it off. Okay yeah maybe there’s some vanity involved but who wouldn’t feel good about being visibly being claimed. The guys don’t even tease him about it anymore because they know it’ll only make him smile harder.

He can be cheeky when it comes to marking you up in return. Bubbles like to keep it to your neck even though they’ll be the most obvious there. Maybe he’ll be nice and leave them closer to the top where you could hide them with your hair and not down by your clavicles.

☆ — James Douglass

James is always so careful with you. Love bites and hickeys are light little things, easy to cover but present enough to send heat rushing through your body at the thought of them. If he gets carried away they’re never somewhere easily visible. Instead he loses himself between your thighs, loving on the soft flesh until you pull him back to where you need him the most. Or with his face pressed into your chest, sucking left and right until it’s all nice and evenly marked up.

Even though he’s respectfully hiding marks you left on him —those are for his eyes only, thank you very much— those that aren’t as visible tend to be forgotten about and show. Which is how he gets a plethora of questions about the claw marks on his back.

☆ — Everett Blakely

Deep down Everett knows he can get a little possessive but he tries his hardest not to be. You chose him. He chose you. No need to get weird about it… except when he does get weird about it. He likes to leave little reminders for you, not visible for others, just for you to see and think of him. It’s sweet in a way. Him coming across your body, seeing the temporary but definitive claim of your lovemaking, is just for him. Because you let him. It’s a hot memory for cold nights when he’s not with you. Nothing he does is for other people.

Now if you decide to leave very obvious marks on him that broadcast to everyone that he is off the market then that is none of his business. He doesn’t have a monopoly on feeling possessive. Afterall Everett is a beautiful man, a heroic pilot… and he’s yours and you’re not sharing.

☆ — Howard 'Hambone' Hamilton

Oh Hambone just loves marking you up all over and he’s not ashamed of it one tiny bit. He’s not really picky, any mark is a good mark as long as you’re okay with them and he’s always so proud of them. Pressing little kisses to them after, all giggly. Part of him wishes he could take pictures of them just so that he could always look at them. Just imagine how the bite marks would look like with his gold teeth… Pull his hair while he smiles against your skin. But Hambone isn’t just mouthy during sex, sometimes he’ll just pull you into a random corner for a little kiss and you leave with some new hickeys.

You have pretty much free reign to do whatever you want to him. He’ll end up with bite marks on his shoulders just because they’re very biteable when you’re trying to muffle your moans from him fucking you roughly. Claw at his back or bruise up his skin, he’s all for it. The biggest softie when you leave a bright red lipsticky kiss mark on his cheek. He’ll leave it on all day.

☆ — John Brady

Is there any better way to truly claim you and show everybody that you are very taken than putting a baby in you? Aside from your wedding ring and his protective arm around you that never really leaves? John is definitely the type of guy that's mutually possessive. You're his, he's yours. But he also has some couth. There's no need to put love bites anywhere somebody else can see. Besides, they’d fade. At least the bump will stick around for a while.

He doesn't encourage you to leave marks but if you do leave any on him John will look at them as often as he can, sometimes poking them through clothing just as a reminder they're there.

☆ — Ken Lemmons

One hot day in summer sweet lil innocent Kenny Lemmons will pause the repair work on a machine to unzip the top part of his coverally, stripping out of the heavy material and tying the arms around his waist to reveal the upper body of a man that has been thoroughly mauled and enjoyed each and every second of it. Bite marks and hickeys all worked down his chest in an unmistakable trail and stretch marks criss-crossing the expanse of his back. He is well taken care of. This incident leaves 2 dead, 15 injured, and 1 turned on.

While you won't be taking your clothes off anytime soon, it doesn't take a genius to guess that beneath your modest dress a similar scene would present itself.

☆ — Bernard 'Benny' DeMarco

One prominent hickey on his neck? He can handle that. Two hickeys side by side because you couldn’t help yourself? Hey, he's a gentleman. He doesn't kiss and tell (although the stories he could tell…) But his entire back scratched up worse than that one time Meatball chased after a squirrel and dragged Benny through a thorn bush? Nobody needs to see that. He is keeping his shirt on, thank you very much.

While he's not against leaving marks on you it rarely happens. His nails don't scratch and he is not a biter. Benny's grip is light and loving, not hard enough to bruise. When he leaves a hickey it's well-placed. For you to know about, not for others to see. But while those hickeys might be for your eyes only the visual of his come painted across your body is for Benny alone.

☆ — Charles 'Crank' Cruikshank

Oh sweet sweet Crank. He’s not one to think about marking you up. It happens, occasionally, but never with any real intent behind it. He might just get a little carried away because you’re just too beautiful and he got distracted but when it comes to marking you up he never goes beyond a little love bite or two. Usually pretty hidden as well. Crank loves you but he’s not about to show everybody what goes on behind closed doors. 

If you end up leaving marks on him he gets really shy about it. Crank looks cute all bashful and blushy, and sometimes you just need to stake a visible claim. Not that he could ever be mad at you when you look so proud of your work.

He’s the type of man that really loves just a good necking. 

[bellewintersroe]

Masters of the Air Masterlist

Welcome to my new MOTA masterlist, hopefully I get a nice little collection of work 😇

John ‘Bucky’ Egan:

John ‘Bucky’ Egan x OC! ~ smut:John and Lila try something new in the bedroom and it’s fair to say Bucky enjoys himself.

Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal:

Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal x reader smut: you and Rosie are friends until one thing leads to another after a visit at the Flak house.

Howard ‘Hambone’ Hamilton:

Hambone Hamilton x POW NurseReader! Part 1: captured by the Germans and sent to a hospital recovering there, Hambone meets you, a captured British Red Cross nurse.