#Helen x Bucky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blakelysco-pilot · 4 months ago

Text

Hallelujah, I Love Her So

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part SIx Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Something big is brewing, and The Brass is keeping their cards close to their chest. The Red Cross girls are forced to navigate through the murky waters of changes on base, revelations, new faces and chance meetings. Val is forced to face feelings from the past that rear their ugly head in the face of something beautiful, but she is determined not to let the past get in the way of her future.

Part Five Follow along with the Eight To the Bar Playlist

Sleep. More often than not, it was restless, and usually cut short due to obligations. This time, it was simply because no one had wanted to go to bed. After a week of restlessness and arguing, finally, they had all found peace. Olive and Doug had made up, and Douglass had finally understood what everyone had been trying to tell him all along- Olive only cared for him. While Val had been nothing short of thrilled that her best friends had finally gotten past their troubles and become a couple, what had made her exponentially happy was knowing that her and Everett had not pushed themselves so far in defending their friends that they ruined their own relationship. Benny had made up with Dougie, the two reaching an understanding that Benny was now to Olive what Curt was to Val- a brother. Curt had spent the entire walk back to the huts from the hardstand bellowing how he had the best night ever, and it had been funny, until BED. ALL OF YOU had come blasting over the tannoy and Red Bowman had sent them all to their respective racks.

Now, as Val woke feeling as refreshed as one can be for getting to bed as the sun came up, she was determined to make the most of a day that didn’t include fighting or disagreements. Olive, it seemed, was already up and out of the hut along with Tattie. Helen was still somewhere in dreamland, even as the clock slowly approached nine. Sitting up in her bed, Val called over to Helen softly, hoping it would be enough to rouse the woman from her sleep.

“Helen, doll, it's almost nine.”

“Hmm, that’s nice…”

“Helen, we have to start getting up and out to the truck.”

“Bring the truck here….” She mumbled, face still pressed into her pillow.

“Christ sake,” Val stood from her bed, bare feet padding over to Helen’s bed. “Helen, come on chickie, time to get up.”

“But we just went to bed…” She groaned, prying one eye open and looking up at Val.

“I know, but we can turn in early tonight, yea?”

“Yea, okay,” She sighed, sitting up and meeting Val’s equally tired gaze full on. “Those two early birds are already at the truck?”

“Yes, now let’s put a little pep in our step before Tattie comes round, okay?”

Nodding, Helen let Val pull her from the warmth of her blankets before the pair of them began getting ready for the day.

Val and Helen had gotten themselves cleaned up and into their jumpsuits in record time. Helen resolved to finish pinning her hair under her scarf on the walk over to the truck while Val blindly applied her lipstick mid stride. By the time they reached Olive and Tattie, the truck was set up and both girls were enjoying a cup of coffee while tossing the ball with Meatball. Demarco must have been up and at it early if he’d relinquished his best pal to the girls before the day really got going.

“Good morning boy, hi!” Val looked over at the husky who was panting, ball in mouth, and staring up at her with big blue eyes. “Did you have a nice snooze?”

“He snoozed more than any of us, that’s for sure.” Helen rolled her eyes with a smile.

“When I checked last night, you were snoozing on top of Dickie.” Olive pointed at her with a cheeky smile.

“He was closest,” Helen grumbled. “And Tattie took the dog.”

“Surprised Benny didn’t put up more of a fight for him honestly.”

At the mention of his owner, Meatball promptly dropped the ball to the ground and let out a loud howl. Maybe Cleven was right and he was part wolf.

“Okay, Meatball, shhh.” Olive crouched down to ruffle the fur between his ears, the dog mistaking her affection for playtime and jumping up onto her.

“Oh, Meatball!” Val laughed, unable to pull him off of Olive as he continued to pounce and lick at her face.

“Wow, and here I thought I was the only fella who got to smother you in kisses!” Dougie’s voice rang out as he walked up the path to the Clubmobile, smirk on his lips and pep in his step.

“Fella, yes,” Olive looked up at him from her place on the ground. “He’s not a fella, he’s a Meatball.”

“Well, then he’s the only Meatball who gets to smother you in kisses.” Doug approached the dog, gently tugging at his collar to get him off of Olive, promptly handing him off to Ev, who had joined him in his quest for coffee.

“Did anyone get any sleep last night?” Dougie questioned the group, looking at the exhausted faces of his friends as he helped Olive off the ground.

“Barely,” Val sighed, moving to snuggle into Everett’s side. “I can’t remember the last time I stayed out all night like that.”

“Had to be sometime before the war…” Ev sighed, placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Somehow it always involves Curt.” Val groaned, her back turned to the path, she didn’t see the man in question approaching.

“Speak of the devil.”

Tattie gestured behind Val, causing Ev to turn them both to see Curt coming towards them, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“Morning yous guys!” He beamed, voice booming as he took up the spot on Val’s other side.

“Shh, too loud.” Helen scolded him.

“Who’s too loud? Meatball? Yea I heard em all the way across the field!”

“Curt…” Val warned, sending him a glare.

“The gal’s grouchy this morning, Blakely.” He mumbled, cigarette now wedged between his lips as he pulled out his lighted.

“Biddick,” Ev looked over at him. “Shut up.”

“Can I at least have a coffee?” He looked at the four girls, trying to figure out which one was most likely to concede.

“Fine, come on, you perky son of a bitch.” Tattie gestured to the truck, leaving Curt out by the hatch as she rounded the back to go inside.

“Thanks, Tat,” He grinned. “Oh, Val, Harding’s looking for ya, he’s in the glass house.”

“You should have led with that, Curt…”

“Yea, sorry about that, I got distracted.”

“Christ sake, okay,” She pried herself out from Everett’s arm and headed for the truck, the pilot still clutching Meatball’s harness in the other hand. “Might as well bring some coffee up for the boys.”

“I’ll walk you,” Ev called over to her. “I needed to talk to Kidd anyway.”

“Thank you honey,” She poked her head out of the truck, now inside putting together a tray of coffee and some donuts for the boys in Operations. “You can help me carry this.”

“Here Curt, you’re on Meatball duty till Benny gets back.” Everett handed off the leash to Curt, moving to the window of the truck to take what Val was passing down to him.

With his hands full, he stood waiting for Valencia to exit the truck. Her own hands full, the pair began their walk towards Operations. They bid their friends goodbye over their shoulders, and began a leisurely walk over towards the control tower. Val was balancing a tray of coffee while Everett dutifully carried a tray with donuts. While some men might have balked at doing something so domestic, he welcomed the moment with Val by his side.

“What’s going on with Jack,” She glanced over at him before looking back towards the path they were walking. “Anything I should be worried about?”

“Honestly, can’t say for certain,” He dropped a sigh before continuing. “Could be anything from a switch in my crew to wanting to go up and practice.”

“Why could he possibly want to switch out of your crew?”

“There’s replacements coming in...”

“When?”

“Not sure, which might be what Harding wants to see you about.”

“The hell am I supposed to do with replacements?”

“Welcome them with open arms the way you welcomed me, sweetheart.” He grinned, offering her a wink as they came to a stop outside the Control Tower.

“They’re hardly getting a wink and a smile,” She sighed, shaking her head as he pulled open the door for her. “And my dance card is full, Captain Blakely.”

“Ooh, haven’t heard that one in a while.” He let out a low laugh, careful not to make too much noise now that they were inside.

The center of the Control Tower, ground level, wasn’t brightly lit. It was bathed in an almost orange glow, and was made up of small offices inside around the perimeter. The center of the room, The Pit, as Red sometimes referred to it, held one big table in the middle adorned with maps, and had floor to ceiling chalkboards on either side of it. Each chalkboard ran the list of every plane within the 100th. All of the forts, their tail numbers and corresponding names and the lead pilot. You could see where someone’s fort had been erased- the names of those who went down or were MIA, simply erased from Thorpe Abbotts. Val realized if she allowed herself to look at it for too long, the worry of Everett’s name, or Curt’s being erased from the board would begin to sink in. Instead, she chose to focus on Chick Harding, who was standing next to Jack Kidd, hands on his narrow hips and cigar wedged between his lips.

“G’morning Chicky,” She approached with a smile, the coffee still piping hot on the tray. “Jack.”

“Valencia…”

“Brought you boys some coffee and Ev’s got the donuts.”

“Blakely, did you join the Red Cross and forget to tell us?” Harding barked out a laugh, the smoke from his stogie billowing up around him.

“Helping Val, Colonel,” Everett placed the other tray down next to where Val had placed the coffees. “She’s only got two hands and I was already headed to see the Major.”

“Ah I’m just joking with you,” Harding slapped a hand down over Blakely’s shoulder before picking up one of the coffees. “I’m sure she appreciates the extra hand, don’t ya Valencia.”

“Oh, I always do.” She smiled, looking over her shoulder at Ev and giving him a wink before turning back to Harding.

“Alright, well, grab yourself a coffee and come with me.” Harding turned and began walking towards the big table in the center of the room, Val following closely behind him.

With a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw Ev disappear into one of the offices with Jack, the pair of them talking quietly before Kidd shut the door behind him. Attention again on following Colonel Harding, he stopped suddenly, turning to face her, eyebrows raised and cigar pinched between two fingers.

“Gotta wait for Red,” He nodded. “Did you get yourself a coffee?”

“Oh, no…”

“Go on then I know you were all up with the sun this morning.” He looked at her with a brow raised, smirk painting his lips.

“More or less,” She mumbled, turning and hurrying back to where she left the coffee. “Did you eat anything this morning, Chicky?”

“I’ll take a donut as long as Demarco’s dog ain’t get near them.”

“They’re Meatball free, grouchy.” She rolled her eyes as she handed it over to him, hearing the beginning of a scoff coming from him, before someone clearing their throat interrupted him.

Red Bowman appeared in front of them, arms folded across his chest, eyebrow raised in amusement at the banter between the pair of them.

“She’s got your number, Chick,” Red’s thick New England accent was light, a bit more jovial than Chick was in the mornings. “Morning Miss Val, thank you for the coffee.”

“Morning Red, and you’re quite welcome.”

“Are you two done torturing me?” Harding scoffed, gesturing with his hand that held the donut to the folders in front of him at the table.

“Go on then,” Bowman nodded, plucking a coffee from the tray. “I’m sure she’s wondering why you needed her if it’s not to type up your reports.”

“No reports?” Val looked between the two men, brows creased.

“We’ve got replacement crews coming in,” Harding started, gesturing to the folders and piles of paperwork scattered around the table. “Fellas are going to need a warm welcome, and I thought you and Helen might be willing to set up the Interrogation hut.”

“You want coffee and whiskey then?”

“That and if you can spare some of the sweets from the Clubmobile,” Red added.

“A hershey bar or two, sure,” She nodded. “But my dance card is full, gentlemen.”

“Wasn’t asking you to give Blakely the boot for a replacement,” Harding laughed. “I’m not blind, Valencia, I know what’s going on there.”

“Out till the sun came up,” Red shook his head in a laugh. “And still up and doing her job.”

“Well, someone has to caffeinate you boys. And feed you, too, it seems.”

“So you’ll be there to welcome the new boys?”

“I’ll talk to Helen when I get back to the truck,” Val nodded in agreement. “When do they get here?”

“Noon.”

“Noon, today!”

“Yes, Valencia, noon today.” Chick drawled, exhaling from his cigar.

“Christ, Chicky, a bit last minute don’t you think?”

“We found out last night.” Red interjected, watching as the furrow on her face turned deeper with each passing second.

“Well, then I need to get back,” Val nodded, bidding a farewell to both the men, swiping a donut off the tray she had left for them. “And pray that Helen is still standing when I get there.”

She didn’t see Red and Harding chuckling at her as her back was turned, both men fully aware that she’d get the job done despite the small window to do it. She also missed the door to Jack’s office opening as Everett exited, his own brow starting to look like his girlfriends.

“We’ll get it done, Blakely,” Jack murmured from behind him. “I know we will.”

“Yeah… we know when these crews are coming in?”

“Today, 1200 hours,” Jack sighed. “Harding has Val setting up interrogation for them.”

“New fellas are gonna love that,” Everett chuckled, the irony of the new crew’s being greeted by a pretty Red Cross girl not lost on him. “She’s gonna give those boys hell.”

“She already gives all of us hell.” Jack cracked a smile, his usually tough exterior slipping as he extended his hand for Blakely.

“Almost all of us.” Shaking Jack’s hand, the two pilots shared a knowing look before Ev turned to leave the Control Tower. “I’m in the clear.”

————————————

“Tell me again,” Helen groaned, twisting the top off the whiskey bottle. “Why Harding doesn’t want all of us?”

“I wish I knew,” Val sighed, shuffling past Helen with a tray of donuts wedged against her hip. “He just asked for me and you to be here.”

“Knowing Chicky, he doesn’t want Meatball in here jumping all over everyone.”

“The Hundredth’s mascot, banned from the welcoming committee. What a sin.”

At the mention of the husky, both girls could hear him barking and howling from across the field by the Clubmobile. Sticking her head out the door, Val could see Demarco making his way over to them, Meatball pulling and tugging at his leash excitedly at his owner returning.

“Benny’s back,” She turned to Helen who was lining up the glasses, pouring two fingers worth of whiskey into each of them. “And heading our way.”

“So much for keeping Meatball out of here.” Helen chuckled.

“Hey! You girls need a hand?” Benny stuck his head inside the door, Meatball immediately trying to get inside.

“Hi,” Helen turned, chucking the empty whiskey bottle into the trash before moving to the coffee cups. “We’re good, but, shouldn’t you be getting the racks ready with the rest of the fellas for the new guys?”

“To be honest, Helen, I’m not exactly bursting at the seams to meet the new kids.”

His face said what he wasn’t, or couldn’t, about the men coming in. They would be filling the empty racks of those who hadn’t made it back; friends that were lost, or dead, and the original boys were reluctant to get too close. Nobody wanted to lose any more friends than they already had. It had been two months since the original crews flew in from Greenland, thirty-five crews had landed that day and Val had been in this exact same spot welcoming the boys who would become her friends to Thorpe Abbotts with a whiskey and a smile. She’d do the same today, but would these boys be here long enough to become friends? God, she hoped so, that for their sake they wouldn’t go up into the clouds with high hopes and never see the ground below again.

“You girls sure you don’t need help?” He was procrastinating going back to his rack.

“Leave Meatball with Olive and Tattie,” Val gestured back to the Clubmobile. “The new boys should at least be able to have a snack without his hair all over it.”

“Alright,” He nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“There’s an urn with coffee on the truck. It’s full, and needs two people to bring it over here.”

“I can grab it.” Benny nodded, moving to bring Meatball back to the truck.

“Benny you need two people, trust me,” Val followed him outside. “It’s also piping hot.”

John Brady was at the window as the pair of them approached, chatting animatedly with Olive about Shakespeare and his sweetheart back home, Juliet. The two girls had become quick penpals, and Brady had taken to including Olive’s letters with his so that nothing got lost in the mail. Whenever Brady had a spare moment, him and Olive would indulge each other in conversation. It was easy to see that John Brady’s favorite thing to talk about was Juliet. Val found it quite sweet, that the usually stoic, pipe smoking saxophone player softened at the mere mention of her name.

“Hey Brady,” Val nudged his shoulder with hers as she passed. “How’s Juliet?”

“Jules is good, thanks for asking Val,” He grinned as Olive handed him a pack of gum. “Her birthday’s coming up soon.”

“Well, make sure you send her a wish from me.”

“I will. I tell her all about you girls, and if I don’t, I know Olive does.”

“Good,” Val nodded, taking Benny by the elbow once he returned from tying Meatball back up by the girls. “One day I’d like to meet the girl who makes John Brady all starry eyed.”

With a wink, Val and Benny made their way into the back of the Clubmobile to collect the urn and take it back to the hut. There was a second urn already in use by Olive and Tattie, the girls taking coffee from that one for the boys that passed by.

“Handles on the side, Ben,” Val directed him to one side while she settled on the other. “On three.”

“Uno, dùe, trè?”

“Yes,” She laughed, waiting for him to count off in Italian. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it…”

On his count, the pair of them lifted the urn and began moving to exit the truck, Benny taking the stairs backwards while Val guided him down one at a time. Once on the grass, they walked side by side, the urn between them, back towards the hut. They moved quickly, silently, and once inside, Helen was making space for them to put it down on one of the tables. She’d set the cups out on one side of the table, enough sugar to get by before the next delivery of rations came in, and milk that the local farmers graciously brought to base every few days. All that was missing was the men filling the room, nervous and excited energy of their flight in and what was to come. The prospect of the fight ahead glimmering in their eyes.

“You girls all set?”

“All set, Benny,” Val smiled. “Thanks for the help.”

“Any time cugine,” He winked.

“What did you just call her!?” Helen balked.

“Cugine,” Benny laughed. “It means cousin but not really a cousin.”

“Right, like we think of each other as family but there’s no bloodline.” Val explained.

“Italians have a word for everything!”

“Here’s another one,” Val turned back to Benny just as she caught Chicky and Red coming towards the hut. “Vai.”

Go.

“And I’m gone.” Benny grinned, scooting out the door and jogging across to the Clubmobile to pick up Meatball.

The Interrogation hut was busy in almost no time at all. Almost as soon as Harding and Red had joined the two girls, the sound of B-17 engines overtook the entire air base. Jack Kidd was out on the hardstands with the two Majors, getting the new fellas into trucks, speeding off towards Interrogation where Red and Chick would do their part in making sure each fort arrived safely and without issue. Val and Helen were there to greet them with a smile and a warm cup of coffee, or something stronger for those who preferred it.

They all looked so fresh faced as they entered the hut, and Val could see the excitement in some of them. Young boys ready to fight, who if she had to guess, didn’t even know just how bad it was up there. In retrospect, neither did any of the original boys when they first got here, and she remembered the vacant look on Gale Cleven’s face the afternoon they had returned from Bremen. The shock and fear that had full body encompassed the man as he tried to explain what had happened up there. The whiskey he declined, that Egan had promptly poured into his coffee, the noise in the back of the hut he had walked into, choosing to let Curt do all the talking for him. How many of these new faces would look the same in the coming days, weeks, months. How many of them would she even see return?

She had just turned to pour more coffee when a crew entered the room, the pilot looking every bit the part. Dark curls tamed with pomade, bright blue eyes and a mustache- no lucky strike. He was a handsome fella, and offered her a kind smile in return of her own as she offered up a choice of refreshments.

“Coffee or whiskey, Lieutenant?” She smiled, holding one of each in either hand.

“Coffee, please, ma’am.” He nodded politely, and Val clocked an accent that she had only heard from one other person on base. This man was from home. Her home.

“Here you go.” She handed him the cup, ready to move on to the next man in his crew, a shorter man, young but sporting a bald spot under his crush cap. She assumed he was the Co-Pilot, and he was eyeing up the whiskey.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Val,” She nodded. “Not ma’am or Miss. Val is just fine Lieutenant…”

“Rosenthal. Robert Rosenthal.”

“Welcome to Thorpe Abbotts, Robert.”

The Lieutenant was moving further into the room as Val quickly passed a glass with whiskey to his Co-Pilot, the man grinning as soon as his fingers wrapped around the glass.

“Ah jeez, thanks Miss!”

“You’re welcome, now go on, the Colonel is waiting.” She gestured to where Harding was standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, a cloud of smoke swirling around him.

“Oh, shoot!” The Co-Pilot cursed, running off behind the rest of his crew to join them, whiskey in hand.

Shaking her head, Val carried on with offering up refreshments, watching out of the corner of her eye as Helen chatted with a young pilot who had come in behind Rosenthal and his crew. For someone who had been so sleepy this morning, willing to serve coffee and donuts from the warmth of her bed, Helen looked positively glowing as she poured what looked like a second whiskey for the man. Normally, she’d give Helen a look, but the girl had sat by while she and Olive did the same every time Everett and Dougie walked past the Clubmobile or into the hut. It was important to Val that all of them found a sliver of happiness, and maybe, this new pilot would be to Helen what Ev was to her.

When he leaves her with a dashing smile, Val turns quickly, busying herself with stacking empty glasses and cleaning up crumbs, so as to not get caught spying. Just as the nameless pilot reaches the door, he turns and calls out to Helen, a slight twang to his voice and a sparkle in his eye.

“See you later, Helen of Troy.” He winks, and joins the rest of the crews in the other room, leaving the two women standing there speechless.

“Helen of Troy?” Val turns to Helen, who’s trying furiously to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Unsuccessfully if she had anything to say about it.

“He’s charming…”

“Yes, he certainly is!”

“You are the leading authority on charming pilots, DiRosano.” She teased.

“Shush, you know what I mean,” Val waves her off, picking up the tray of glasses she stacked, and heads for the door. “What’s his name?”

“Hmm?” Helen seems dazed, lost in a fantasy, and Val can’t help but roll her eyes.

“Oh here we go,” She grins. “His name, Helen. What was the charming pilot's name?”

“Oh! Nash,” The blush was not ceasing its takeover of her fair skin. “Lieutenant Herbert Nash.”

“Well, he certainly seems to have his sights set on you!”

Just as Helen was about to respond, the door opened and Red Bowman stepped out of the room, eyes scanning the front of the hut for something before landing on the coffee urn, and then over to the two girls cleaning up.

“Any more in there, girls?” He gestured to the urn, cigarette between two fingers.

“For you, Red? You don’t even have to ask.” Val winked, setting the tray down by the door to go pour him a coffee.

“Thank you, Valencia,” He groaned, pinching between his brows with two fingers. “These new kids are… Well, they’re kids.”

“They’re just anxious,” Handing over the cup, black with sugar, she could see something behind his eyes. Something fearful. “Same as the other boys were anxious when they got here.”

“These boys somehow seem younger than your boys.” Red sighed, and she could very clearly see the worry on his face.

“Our boys will lead them through,” Val nodded, knowing she felt the same worry even though Ev and Curt had been on their fair share of missions, that worry never subsided. “I know they will.”

She had spent the rest of the afternoon repeating her own words over and over. Our boys will lead them through tumbling over and over like a stone as she willed it to be true. She had seen too many men lose the fight already, coffee and a kind send off one minute, and the next she was scanning the faces as they shuffled through the door to see who had made it back and silently taking stock of the missing men. Quietly, she would keep their names off to the side, knowing that Curt and Ev were the ones who would see them meet their demise- hard as it was for the girls to not see those boys again it was infinitely harder on the boys who saw it happen first hand. Friends lost, sons, husbands and brothers who would never see home again. That, she had realized, was exactly what she had welcomed to Thorpe Abbotts earlier today. Boys that, if she had to guess, a handful or more would never see the inside of that hut again after their first raid. Boys who would maybe get to spend one night in the Officers Club with a good pretty girl to dance with and a hope that maybe she’d be waiting. Chances are she would be waiting, but what would return, no one could say for certain.

“You’re quiet,” Tattie looked up from where she was putting away the leftover snacks and newspapers in the Clubmobile. “Everything go alright with the new boys?”

“Oh, yea, they were fine. Eager.” She punctuates the sentence with a forced laugh.

“I figured as much. When they went past they were all wide eyed like it was Christmas morning.”

“Red looked a little nervous,” She slid the empty coffee urn back onto the shelf, turning to face Tattie. “He kept going on about how they were just kids.”

“They are kids,” Tattie shook her head. “This damn war.”

“I get why Benny didn’t want to be around when they showed up…”

“Almost all the boys went up for practice just before the new forts landed.”

“Are we wrong to get attached?” Val questioned, lighting a cigarette. “I don’t mean Ev or Doug, but the other boys.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, remembering Croz’s wife’s name, or how Claytor takes his coffee. Checking the score of the Yankees game in a three day old paper from home just so Egan has a better morning. That kind of stuff.”

Val lets her gaze fall to Olive who’s cleaning up outside the truck with Helen, the latter telling her all about their afternoon and the crews that had come through. She can’t help but hope that disappointment doesn’t find its way to her friend, the smile on her face giving Val the reminder of what they’re doing here and why they’re doing it. It’s more than coffee and donuts or snacks for the boys. It’s a smile that reminds them they’re still human, that they’re not just killing machines trained to fight a war; the boy who left home is still in there somewhere. It’s a friendly ear when their sweetheart sends a letter and they can’t wait to see someone about it. Or when their newborn starts crawling and their wife writes to tell them all about it in such detail it’s as if they’re seeing it happen in their mind's eye. It’s someone remembering how they take their coffee or who their favorite baseball team is. It’s having friends and someone to laugh with. If it meant being able to smile and making someone else smile, she didn’t mind getting attached all that much. They were good guys. Flyboys, sure, but they were good.

“No,” Tattie shook her head, a smile on her face. “I think it’s important we get attached to our boys.”

“Our boys…”

“Well, who else is going to look after them?”

“In the sky, they look after each other. But down here, on the ground, you’re right Tat… those are our boys.”

“And that damn dog.” She rolled her eyes, a stream of smoke passing through her lips.

“No,” She grinned. “We can’t forget about Meatball.”

———————————————————————————

She had walked back to the hut with Tattie, the two smoking and chatting idly as they took stock of all the new faces walking around base. Thorpe Abbotts seemed crowded now, the new fellas plus those who had been here from the start now taking up space in every available hut, rack and seat in the mess hall. All the hardstands were occupied and in the back of her head she filed away that they’d be brewing more coffee and making more donuts each day.

She’d hoped to run into Everett on her way back. They had parted ways in the Control tower that morning, and when she had left he was still in Jack’s office. Had she known they were in there shooting the shit, she’d have popped her head in and snarked at Jack a bit before leaving them both, but when Ev mentioned he needed to see Jack for something, she wasn’t about to interrupt that. She could surmise that the boys had their hands full now, but she’d remain hopeful that they’d see each other in the mess hall; or at the very least, he’d come find her before it was lights out on base. And considering no one slept the night before, they’d all be lights out pretty early if she had to venture a guess.

“Olive said you didn’t even go to bed last night?”

“Oh, no. Delays the hangover.”

“And how do you feel now, Spaatz?”

“Like the Clubmobile rolled over me, reversed, and rolled over me again.” She groaned.

“That’s certainly one way to describe a hangover.” Val laughed, not missing the scowl on Tattie’s face as she nudged her.

“And you?” The other woman questioned, eyebrows raised. “How are you feeling now that everything’s settled with Olive and Douglass?”

“I’m exhausted,” Val groaned. “But it’s a good exhausted, you know what I mean?”

“There’s a good way to be tired?”

“Sure there is!” Val exclaimed, explanation at the ready. “It’s like, when you come home after a night on the town; you danced all night and your feet hurt, and it’s a chore to even open the jar of cold cream, but you had the most wonderful time and you’d do it all over again…”

“So you’re not saying you’d argue with Blakely again, but…”

“But I’d sit out in the grass with all of you and watch the sun come up every night if I could.”

“Back at you, Valencia.”

Just as they reached the door of their hut, they could hear Olive and Helen inside already, the pair giggling quietly. Helen had been in a quiet daze all day after her encounter with the charming replacement pilot in Interrogation earlier. It seemed he had left such an impression on Helen that she wanted to tell any of the girls who would listen; Val would listen a hundred times over to see her friend smile. Pushing the door open, the two girls looked over from Olive’s bed, smiles wide and eyes sparking with mischief.

“You’ve got mail…” Olive’s tone was a playful, sing-song.

“What don’t I know?” Her green eyes narrowed in playful scrutiny as she made her way towards her bed, finding a piece of her own floral printed stationery laying folder on the pillow.

“Nope!” Olive mimed zipping her lips.

“Olive!” Val stomped her foot like a petulant child, shaking her head as she picked up the paper, smiling as she unfolded it to find Everett’s messy handwriting scrawled across it.

Honey-

Saw you were swarmed with new faces in interrogation and didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll be back a bit later. Our crew is taking a few of the new fellas up on a practice run. I’ll be back in time to eat with you in the Officer's Mess tonight- pick you up at 5:30. I Love you!”

-E

Her eyes flew across the paper three times before finally looking up. Olive’s gaze was there to meet hers, the Brit now standing in front of Val, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes and a smirk on her face.

“He…oh my god…”

“He what, honey?” Helen, who was still perched on Olive’s bed, looked over in concern.

“That’s the first time… In a note!”

“The first time for what?” Helen, again, posed the question to Val.

“Val? Honey, are you okay?” This time it was Tattie.

“DID YOU KNOW!?” Val’s gaze turned wide and sharp as she focused on Olive, her voice a few octaves higher than it should have been.

“Did I know what?” The other woman teased, her voice taking on an almost innocent tone.

“THIS!” Val waved the sheet of stationary in her face.

“What’s it say?” Olive jokingly tried to peer around it, hoping to catch a word or two.

“English, please!”

“Okay, okay…” She finally relented, taking the seat next to Val on the bed. “I promised him I wouldn’t let it slip before you found out or he told you.”

“How did you…”

“Dougie and I were in here earlier. I was reading my mail when Ev came looking for him.”

“Yea okay, you two were reading.” Val rolled her eyes.

“Don’t change the subject, Valencia!”

“Olive! Please tell me that I’m not sitting where…”

“No, Helen, you’re safe. Nothing happened.”

“As long as I’m not- “

“Would you two please focus! Everett just said he loves me!”

“Well of course he loves you!” Tattie rolled her eyes, walking past on her way to the showers.

“No, I mean, that’s the first time he’s ever said it.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She shouted, remaining in the conversation while freshening up.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, for starters, it’s the way you gaze into each other's eyes when you think no one is looking…” Helen grinned, rolling over to her stomach on the bed, chin propped on her hands and feet in the air like she was at a slumber party.

“Or when we are looking.” Olive teased, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Val. “Here Chicken, come on…”

Val gratefully accepts the cigarette from Olive, taking a long pull before exhaling again. Her next words come out in a swirl of white smoke, her eyes glassy like she’s lost in a memory.

“The last person who told me they loved me…”

“There was someone before Blakely?” Tattie’s head popped out from the wall of the bathroom.

“I don’t like talking about it,” Val sighed. “We met when I started working at the bank. He was a big shot and I was a secretary.”

“Val, you don’t have to tell us.”

“No, it’s okay. I want to,” She sighed. “I think I need to, to finally be rid of him.”

“Rid of him?”

“He was a real sweet talker,” She started. “Not like Curt or Ev. He was the kind of guy who could charm the skirt off a nun. Not even Curt can do that.”

“Oh…”

“So, he charmed me. Charmed me real good, and made me lots of promises.”

“Val, did he…”

“No,” Shaking her head violently, she took another drag of her cigarette. “I was so enthralled by him, I had wanted to.”

“So what happened?”

“The secretaries would always leave at five in the dot. So, there would be nights I would go home and he would still be working, and so Curt would meet me and walk me home. And one night, we were walking home, we came up to the picture house, and there he was.”

“Oh no…” Helen’s hand was covering her mouth, eyes wide in shock as she put two and two together.

“He was with another woman,” She shook her head. “I don’t know who she was, but I begged Curt to take me home.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“Yes. In the police station. Curt beat him within an inch of his life. They both got arrested for a public brawl.”

“Valencia!”

“I had to identify them both,” She sighed. “Curt had claimed self defense, so, when it came time to make my statement, I said that my ex had attacked me, and Curt fought back in my defense.”

“Oh my god!”

“I tried dating other fellas after the dust settled, but Curt was always wildly protective, and made it difficult. I get why he did it.”

“He really is your protector isn’t he…”

“Until I found out he was the one who divulged my cocktail order to Everett…”

“Curt did!?”

“He did…” She smiled, the cigarette now burned nearly down to her fingers. “He surprises me in funny ways like that.”

“Insufferable, that one,” Olive chuckled. “But he really is a good egg.”

“What are you going to tell Blakely?” Tattie had joined them back in the main area of the hut.

“That I love him too,” She grinned. “Because I do love him.”

Everett’s note to Val was now safely tucked into the book on her side table. The first I Love You now pressed gently between the pages of The Great Gatsby so that she could fix herself up in time for dinner. Eating in the Officers Mess meant putting on your cleanest uniform, and her coffee stained, donut greased, jumpsuit would not do. Not when Chick Harding was a few tables away, and the high ranking members of their airbase were dining in the same room. That’s what she told herself at least, as she sat in front of the mirror in her skirt and blouse, pinning her hair so that it fell neatly against her shoulders.

The neatly pressed uniform was for The Brass, but the victory red lips, mascara on her lashes and rouge pinched cheeks were for Everett. She knew that even if she was still wearing a jumpsuit covered in grease or Meatball’s fur, he’d still pull her close and kiss her hello, but she liked the idea of getting primped for him. For looking clean on his arm when she knew he’d be showing up in a clean uniform as well. At the mirror next to her, Olive was doing the same thing. Painstakingly pinning her hair away from her face, and applying her lipstick just so that Dougie could kiss it off of her later, she was sure.

“That color looks good on you.”

“Yea?” Olive glanced at her in the reflection of the mirror, eyes only just meeting hers before going back to her hair. “It’s not too dark?”

“Not at all, it’s the perfect shade of red for you.”

“I think only you can pull off that Victory Red,” Olive chuckled. She remembered the first time Val had helped her get ready for the club and had applied her own red lipstick, the brighter red just not working with her skin at all. “It was not for me.”

“Oh gosh, do you remember how fast you wiped it off!”

“Immediate no,” Olive laughed, a sigh immediately following as she threw a hair pin to the table. “Ugh, this side does not want to cooperate!”

“Here, let me…” Val stood, coming to stand behind her as she deftly began rolling Olive’s hair between her fingers and pinning it back for her.

“How do you do it?”

“From an early age my mother taught me to be a ‘proper lady’,” She shook her head before breaking out into an impression of her mother. “Valencia, don’t leave the house without lipstick on. Don’t forget to set your hair.”

Olive laughed fully at Val’s broken English accent, making it sound as if her Italian mother was in the room with them.

“Is that what she sounds like?”

“Oh yes. And Nonna, not a word of English.”

“Well, you’re a whizz,” Olive looked up at her as she put the final pin in place. “I need to pay better attention when you do your hair.”

“You’re doing just fine chickie,” Val winked, slipping on her watch and moving to pick her jacket up off the bed. “We were all there once.”

“Thanks,” Olive beamed, pushing back from the vanity and standing to put her own jacket on. “Now come on, it’s almost 5:30 and if I know those two…”

“They’re probably already outside.” Val finished for her.

Ev stood with Doug outside, the two men smoking while quietly discussing their practice mission earlier today with the replacements. Ev had taken a handful of the new boys up, and leading the wing, tested them on formations, calling out patterns, and PR’s from the Navigators to Radio Men. Dougie had simulated a bomb drop, all the boys in Just A Snappin had watched to see just what the new boys were capable of. There had been two forts in particular they’d been impressed with, but for the most part, the new boys were as green as the paint on a B-17.

“I wanted to take Ol to the pub tonight, but that's not happening…”

“I know,” Ev groaned. “I owe Val a date but, based on what Jack told me earlier, we're about to go through the mud for a bit.”

“This whole place is mud,” Doug grumbled. “Never stops raining.”

“This one sounds big…”

“He say where?”

“No, Harding’s keeping it close to the vest.”

“Dammit… it would be nice to know what we’re up against for once.”

““Yea,” Ev took a final pull of his cigarette before tossing it in the makeshift ashtray outside the girls’ hut. “Explains why he wants us looking after these new kids.”

“Fucking replacements…” Dougie sighed.

“Those two from Laredo were damn good,” Ev raised an eyebrow at him. “Rosenthal and Nash?”

“That kid Rosie almost gave you a run for your money, pal.”

“I’m not worried about him,” Ev nodded. “But some of these other kids wouldn’t know formation if I had it painted on the wing.”

Douglass was about to reply with a quick remark about how they should paint it on the wing, when the door opened and Val and Olive appeared. Both girls in their Red Cross dress uniform, a far cry from the sleepy faces they had found at the Clubmobile earlier in the day. Ev’s gaze immediately found Val’s, his hazel eyes finding hers just as her smile widened. Obviously she had seen his note, she was ready at the time he had told her to be, but what had she thought of that truth bomb he had dropped? Suddenly a bit nervous, he played it off with a kiss, greeting her as he did every time they were together.

“Hi, pretty,” He pulled back, smiling at her. “How was your day?”

“Oh my day was lovely, dear,” She teased. “Did you have fun with the replacements?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Taking her hand, he began leading her away from the hut, checking over his shoulder to find Olive and Doug still greeting each other. “Were they respectful at least when they showed up?”

“Oh, very!” She nodded. “I think one of the new boys might be from Brooklyn, but I need to find out.”

“Another face from home,” He shook his head with a smile. “You and Curt will love that.”

“He sounded it when I handed him his coffee earlier.”

“Did you catch his name?”

“Rosenthal…”

“Oh, Rosie!” Ev’s eyes went wide. “His crew went up with us after they met with Chick. He’s a pilot and boy can he fly.”

“Yea? Him and his Co-Pilot passed through kind of quickly, but their friend took a shine to Helen and lingered.”

“Let me guess,” Ev laughed. “Nash?”

“Yes! How did you know?”

“He was yappin up a storm in the equipment hut about the pretty Red Cross girl who served him whiskey and Dougie and I heard him.”

“Dougie didn’t try to strangle him, did he?”

“No,” He punches out a laugh, recalling the week they’ve all just endured. “We had a feeling it was Helen since Tattie was in the truck when we left.”

“She’s smitten, that’s for sure.”

“Well, for his sake, he better treat her right.”

Val nodded in agreement as they reached the Officers Mess, Everett pulling the door open for her and allowing her to enter ahead of him. Once they were both inside, he led her to a table, one hand on the small of her back, the other quickly pulling his crush cap off and tucking it under his arm. He found Benny saving a few seats in the middle of the room, Croz already seated across from him, John Brady to his left. The three of them were talking animatedly, Meatball’s head resting between Croz and Brady.

“Fellas,” Ev greeted, pulling out a chair for Val and waiting for her to sit. “How’re we all doing?”

“Blakely,” Brady offered in greeting. “Nice to see you outside the truck, Val.”

“You saw me in the club last night…”

“I know but, this is what Jules would call a proper conversation. So, it’s…”

“Nice to not be rushed off from the truck, or shouting over the band in the club. I hear you.”

“Exactly, yes.”

“Dougie with you, Ev?” Benny looked over at him, Ev now in the seat across from Val so that they could see each other. He also ventured a guess that she’d want Olive next to her.

“He and Olive were behind us, should be here in a minute.”

“Are those two done fighting now?” Croz looked up from the table.

“They had better be,” Demarco grumbled. “Otherwise I had Tattie Spaatz on my shoulders and stayed up till sunrise for nothing.”

“Wait, who was on your shoulders!?” Harry balked, his big brown eyes wide in shock.

“Tattie… it’s a long story. But that one,” Benny gestured to Val with his thumb. “And her friends are all nosey and couldn’t let Doug and Olive make up in peace, so they had to spy through the windows.”

“What windows?” Brady chimed in.

“These windows,” Ev laughed. “Doug and Olive came in here to talk-“

“No, you forced them in here to talk,” Val corrected him. “And I couldn’t see in the little window in the door, so I used the windows up there.”

“Jesus christ, Val!” Harry laughed.

“Biddick was holding all the jackets, Dickie had Helen on his shoulders, it was certainly something.” Benny recalled, the moment Tattie started ordering him around coming to the forefront of his mind.

As if on cue, James Douglass came sauntering over to the table with Olive tucked under his arm, the pair grinning like teenagers.

“That about answer your question, Croz?” Val laughed.

“Sure does.”

Doug, doing his best to behave like a gentleman, pulled the chair out next to Val for Olive, before rounding the table to take the seat next to Everett.

“So, fellas, how’s it going then?”

“Could ask you the same thing, Dougie.” Brady grinned.

“Oh I’m great!” Doug beamed, winking at Olive across the table.

Val just catches her rolling her eyes at him before she turns towards Brady, the two of them discussing the letter Olive had received from his sweetheart Juliet earlier in the day. After Val had divulged her past to the girls in the hut, Olive had offered to lighten the mood by telling the girls all about the letter she had received from Juliet Thompson. Still flabbergasted by the sheer size of the letter, Val could only describe what the girl had written as a novel, and outside of James Douglass she had not seen anything capture Olive’s interest quite so much.

“She write you an essay?” Brady jokes, and Val immediately knows that this is a common occurrence for Juliet.

“She did, actually,” Olive nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” Dougie interjects. “We read it together.” The boys at the table break out into a roaring cheer at his remark, and Val see’s Olive’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red as she begins to laugh, Val falling into a fit of giggles alongside her.

“James!” Olive scolds, hand finding Val’s on top of the table, the two of them with tears in their eyes. “Keep it quiet!” “Yeah, Doug,” Ev shakes his head in amusement, ruffling his hair a little. “Keep it quiet.”

Across the mess hall, Val see’s the pilot from earlier, Rosenthal, sitting at a table with a few other replacements. His Co-Pilot and Helen’s new eye candy, Nash are sitting with him, along with a few other members of who she assumes are both their crews. He catches her eye briefly, and she offers him a wave before turning back to Everett who’s talking about the crews he led up earlier. Brady had taken the Crash Wagon crew up on a practice run so as to avoid having to meet them, so he seems especially intrigued by what Ev has to say about how the new kids had flown.

“Hey Val, looks like you’ve caught the eye of some of the replacements,” Benny gestures to the group of men at another table staring at her with what could only be described as hearts in their eyes. “Starry eyed kids.”

“Rosenthal and his crew?” She sighed, shaking her head with a laugh.

“Uh, no actually…”

“What?” Everett’s head turns in the direction of where Benny is looking, his hazel eyes narrowing, his face taking on a dangerous scowl.

“Everett, they’re not doing anything, they’re just-”

“Drooling at my girlfriend like a pack of dogs.” He practically growled, gaze fixated on the table of replacements. .

“Ev, hey pal,” Dougie dropped a hand to his shoulder, shaking him out of it. “They’re just kids, they’ll learn.”

“Yea… learn not to ogle other people’s girlfriends.” His gaze still on the new kids, voice raised to get his point across. The faces of the replacements go pale as they realize that the woman they’ve been whispering about is the Captain’s girlfriend.

“Everett…” Val warned.

Before he could say anything, Gale Cleven’s voice carried over from the table with the replacements, the major standing with his hands on his hips as he addressed the boys now staring at him with wide eyes.

“Fellas,” He nodded. “Those girls will get your utmost respect, understood?”

A chorus of yes, major echoed through the room, Buck nodding in satisfaction at their answer before moving on.

“Boys, Miss Lewis, Miss Val,” He offered them all a smile, giving Val a slight wink knowing she heard him with the replacements. “Enjoy dinner everyone.”

“Major,” Everett nodded. “Thank you sir.”

“You see?” Val nudged him gently, as Buck walked towards where John Egan was waiting for him with Curt and Dickie. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go all…”

“Green with envy?”

“Yea, that.”

“Don’t worry,” She grinned, picking her napkin up and placing it in her lap. “I only have eyes for you.”

——————————————————————

By the time dinner is finished, the lack of sleep has fully caught up with just about everyone, and the girls make the decision to forgo the Officers Club for the evening. Instead they choose to spend time sitting outside the Red Cross hut, taking the chairs they’ve commandeered from the club outside and propping the door open so that the record player can be heard.

“Ev, we need to get a record player in our rack.” Doug laments, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Olive who's perched on his lap.

“Croz has a record player,” Ev sighs, tucking Val into his side as they squeeze into the borrowed armchair together.

“Yea, but he plays fancy stuff.” Dougie gripped around his Lucky Strike.

“What exactly is fancy stuff, Doug?” Val laughs, peering over at him.

“You know, opera and stuff.”

“Classical music is nice. Nonna plays a lot of classical Italian at home, it’s actually quite nice.”

“What does Pearl play in her house, Ol?” Dougie ducks his head down to peer at his girlfriend, a smile blooming on her face at the mere mention of her grandmother.

“Oh, a lot of Glenn Miller in her house.” She replies in a sigh, and Val can tell she’s thinking of home.

The feeling of nostalgia spreads over them all like a warm blanket, the girls sharing anecdotes of home and growing up and living with their grandmothers. Val is practically draped over Everett in their shared seat, leaning over to get closer to Olive as she shares tales from the kitchen; making meatballs and sauce on Sundays, and arancini every time there’s a special occasion. That once she was old enough, Nonna DiRosano would beckon her into the kitchen and teach her how to prepare the traditional meals so that one day she could cook them for her own family. She recalls how up until the day she left for England, she would request a traditional Sunday meal for her birthday every year, no matter what day of the week it would fall on. She laughed thinking about how Curt and his mother would always need to be present at the table, the Irish woman and her son happy to share in delicacies that were special to their friends that had become like family. In turn, Val had also learned how to prepare a traditional St. Patrick’s Day meal from Mrs. Biddick; the older woman had once thought her son would be the apple of Val’s eye, and he was, but as a brother was to a sister. Still, she had insisted that Val learn, because one day I won’t be here to cook for my son, and heaven knows what kind of wife he’ll end up with. Val’s impression of Mrs. Biddick is spot on, her Irish accent something that has the others laughing and for a moment, forgetting all about where they are. That blanket of nostalgia is warm, tucked around them so snug, they can almost feel the softness of its cover.

The boys, both enthralled at hearing all about how Val and Olive had grown up, begin to share some of their childhood memories as well. Everett is quick to share that he was a troublemaker of a child, something that Val immediately finds amusing because as much as he enjoys putting his feet up and having fun, her Everett is the most GI of GI’s according to the other men around base. She’s hard pressed to agree with them, because when the time comes for a mission, he’s all business. Tattie and Helen join them as Everett is in the middle of telling a story about how nothing fragile was ever safe in his parent’s home, his hazel eyes bright with childlike mischief before he morphed into his best impression of his mother, just to get a rise out of his audience.

“All I heard was, and it scared the life out of me, let me tell ya, was ‘Everett Ernest, if you so much as look at that vase–’” He crowed, Val laughing from her spot in his lap.

“Wait, wait!” Olive shakes her head, wanting to make sure she heard him correctly. “Your middle name is Ernest?”

“Yes, and what of it, English?” He fires back with a grin.

“I'm sorry, it's just–” Her own laughter takes the words right out of her mouth, her head thrown back onto Doug’s shoulder. “I didn't expect that. You don't–”

The laughter takes over once more, Everett shaking his head at her antics, the pilot now hiding his face in Val’s shoulder.

“Oh come on, Ol!” Val laughs, her fingers combing through Everett’s hair.

“You don't look like an Ernest, that's all.” She finishes.

“Go on then, what's yours?” Ev challenges her, eyes narrowed.

“Maude.” She giggles, catching the glint in his eye as she says it.

“Maude?” It's his turn to laugh now, the sound carrying across the open night air. “Jesus, Ol, that's worse than Ernest!”

“I think it's cute,” Dougie says, sweetly tapping her nose gently.

“Thank you!” Her nose wrinkles sweetly under his finger. “I think so too.”

“I think Ernest is adorable,” Val grins, turning to face him, Olive and Dougie now in their own little world. “Suits you very well.”

“What’s yours?” Ev prods, his hand coming up to twirl a loose curl around his finger.

“Chiara,” She sighs. “Valencia Chiara.”

“Beautiful…” He whispers, bringing her face closer to his, noses touching just so.

“You think so?”

He nods gently, the space between them almost non-existent.

Val can feel him tense up underneath her, his body going stiff as they remain pressed close together. There’s a pretty good idea of what might have caused it running laps in her mind, and she resolves to finally put the man under her out of his misery with a bit of teasing.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…”

“Ev, you’re really tense.” She pushes, trying to get him to crack.

“No, no I’m okay,” He shifts under her, and she can tell he’s practically begging his body to relax. “Honest.”

“You don’t seem okay…”

“Promise, I’m okay.”

“Would it make you feel better if you knew that I loved you too?” Peering down at him, her eyes are dancing with mirth as her mouth turns up into a smile.

“Yes, actually it would-wait… you’ve been holding onto that all night havent you?”

“Well, you sprung it on me,” She teased. “I thought, only fair to return the favor.”

You’re terrible…” His whole body relaxes under her, his head tipping back to rest on the back of the chair. He’s smiling, the same smile as the first time he brought her a drink at the club, and asked her to dance just two months ago.

“Maybe I am. But, you love me in spite of it.”

“I do love you…I love you so much Val.” His mouth slants over her’s without a second thought, one hand tangled in her hair as the other wraps around her waist and holds her close. They’re so lost in each other, this moment, that they don’t hear Tattie clearing her throat as she takes a seat on the short brick wall at the front of the hut, nor do they hear Doug and Olive trying to get their attention.

“Hellooo,” Tattie calls out to them. “Lovebirds, the rest of us are still here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yea yea, we know.” Val waves her away, tucking herself back into Everett’s chest.

“Did you tell him?” Olive presses.

She’s smiling as she takes the cigarette from Doug, his blue eyes narrowing playfully before snatching it back from between her lips just as soon as she’s taken a pull from it.

“What do you think?” Val winks.

The girls break out into a gaggle of squeals and laughter, both Everett and Dougie looking on as they smile and carry on with glee. Seeing them outside of the truck and in their uniforms, smiling and carrying on as girls were meant to, not under the din of war and loss, made both the boys smile. Tattie pulls her cigarettes out, lighting the last one and tossing the box to the side. She passes it to Val, who takes a pull before passing to Helen who’s sitting between the two couples.

Helen, the most inexperienced smoker, keeps coughing at each drag she takes. Each cough is dainty and delicate, in a way that only Helen can manage.

“Helen, doll,” Olive urges. “Put that out, you're hurting yourself!”

“I don't wanna look like the party pooper!” She gripes.

“I can promise, you're not,” Olive laughs, gesturing with a wave of her hand to give her the cigarette, the tip covered in her lipstick.

As she stubs it out, four men round the corner, all of them wide eyed as they spot both Captains sitting outside so casually. Val looks up with a grin and waves, beckoning them over while Helen visibly swoons at the sight of the thin, dark haired pilot.

“Ohhhh,” Olive teases, knowingly. “Is that Nash?.”

Helen giggles, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind her ear as she nods shyly.

“Oh, Helen, your hair is fine.” Olive guffaws, shaking her head.

The quartet of replacements approaches hesitantly, Nash immediately making a beeline for Helen without so much as a wave to Val and Olive, or acknowledging Ev and Doug. They take it in stride as Val stands from Everett’s lap to greet Rosie, Pappy and the third man who she hasn’t officially met yet.

“Rosie,” Ev extends his hand for him to shake before moving to do the same with the other two men. “Fellas, enjoying yourselves?”

“Captain Blakely,” Rosie nods, standing straight. “Miss Val.”

“Rosie, it’s alright, you don’t have to do that out here,” Everett insists with a kind smile. “We’re all just shooting the breeze.”

“Yea, come join us,” Val grins at them, turning to wave Olive over towards where they’re gathered. “Olive, come meet the new fellas!”

Olive is off Doug’s lap like a shot, pulling Tattie with her as she joins Val and Everett with the new boys. The girls don’t see Everett slip backwards towards where Doug is still sitting, leaving Val to introduce the new boys to both Tattie and Olive.

“Olive, Tattie, this is Robert,” Val begins. “His Co-Pilot Pappy, Speas is Nash’s Co-Pilot and Nash is…where's he gone off to?”

“I'll give ya three guesses,” Pappy wiggles his eyebrows.

“That was fast.” Olive titters. “He's keen.”

“He sure is.” He says, looking at Olive. “Sorry Miss…?”

“Lewis. Olive Lewis.”

“No way!” He gestures to himself, hand coming to his chest in a fit of excitement. “Pappy Lewis!”

“Oh?!” Olive squeals, clutching at his arm in excitement before remembering her surroundings. “I mean, it's a pretty common name, Pappy.”

“Never met a Brit with the same one before though,” He ponders. “Truth be told, I’ve never met a Brit until just now.”

“It’s your lucky day,” Olive grins at him. “A Brit and a long lost cousin all at once.”

“Hey, Rosie!” He hollers, unaware that his pilot is still standing right next to him, watching the entire thing unfold with Val and Tattie. “Came all the way to England and found my cousin!”

“Pappy, she's not–” He tries to reason.

Pappy pulls Olive into a one armed hug, the over excited man resembling Meatball when he’s tied to the pole outside the Clubmobile and trying to get attention from everyone as they pass by on their way. Olive quickly pulls Pappy over towards Doug, and Val can see the excitement on both of their faces at the blooming friendship between them; Olive doing exactly what Val had been questioning all afternoon. The question of caring too much, getting too attached, seeming millions of miles away as new friends blended with old friends, something special igniting between all of them.

“Rosie, ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head to the rack and get some sleep,” Speas addresses the group. “It’s been a day.”

“Oh, of course, go on then. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Val waves goodnight, before watching as he claps Rosie on the shoulder before turning towards their designated hut.

“We won’t be long,” Rosie nods after him. “Nash is probably going to be a while, but I’ll wait for Pappy.”

“Come sit,” Val turns back towards where they had all been gathered earlier. “The record player is still going, and we’re just relaxing.”

“I don’t want to intrude, really.”

“Robert-”

“Rosie’s fine, Miss Val.”

“Just Val, please.” She narrows her eyebrows playfully at him as she takes her seat back outside the hut, Everett standing to pull Doug’s now empty chair over for Rosie to sit in, while Pappy takes a seat on the half wall next to Tattie.

“Yea, come on fellas, no pressure,” Ev pulls out his cigarettes, offering one to Rosie who politely declines. Pappy accepts, lighting it before offering to share it with Tattie. “Besides, she’s been itching to ask you a few questions.”

“Everett,” She rolls her eyes, but stops when she realizes Olive and Doug are nowhere to be found. “Hey, where’d they go? Are they reading again?”

“They went for a walk,” He gave her a look that said there was more to it, but he didn’t want to kill the mood. “But I changed the record after they left.”

“Artie Shaw…” Rosie commented, picking up on the melody coming from the open door of the Red Cross hut.

“The man knows his stuff,” Pappy commented. “I’m surprised he’s not playing with Benny Goodman instead.”

“Do you play?” Everett asked, forearms braced on his thighs as he focused on Rosie.

“No, not a note,” Rosie chuckled, turning towards Everett. “My mother and sister though, boy can they play.”

“So, you prefer Rosie over Robert then…”

“My mother calls me Robert.” His face twists into something childish, and she can immediately tell he misses his mother, but maybe doesn’t miss hearing his full name all the time.

“And his sweetheart calls him Robbie!”

“Pappy!”

“What! I’m just letting them know!” He shrugs from where he’s sitting, a laugh bubbling up that he tries to cover with a cough.

“Okay, so, Rosie, what part of Brooklyn are you from?” Val turns to him, a twinkle in her eye.

“How did you-”

“I’m from Bensonhurst.” She grins, red lips stretched wide as she sees Rosie’s eyes widen in recognition.

“I grew up in Flatbush!”

“Oh we’re practically neighbors!” She turned to Ev with a smile, explaining. “Flatbush and Bensonhurst are ten minutes apart, honey.”

“Yeah, guess we are!”

“And is your sweetheart in Flatbush too?” She prods.

“She is, yeah…”

“What’s her name?” Everett asks, flicking the ash of his cigarette to the ground before tossing it into the ashtray.

“Josephine,” Rosie smiles, a far off look in his eye. “I uhh, I call her Jo.”

“Rosie Rosenthal, you and I are going to be great friends.” Val nods, immediately feeling a sense of peace with Rosie and Pappy.

Val makes a mental note to introduce Rosie to Croz, knowing that his wife is living by herself in the city and could probably use a friend to help pass the time. Based on the friendly disposition of the man, she could only surmise that his Josephine was as mild mannered and kind as he had been so far, and as a fellow Brooklyn girl, Val had resolved to write to her once she got to know Rosie a little better. If she were on the opposite side of things, she would want someone telling her how Everett was truly managing while overseas. Then again, if she had remained on the other side of things, she wouldn’t know Everett, and would simply be waiting for letters from England from Curt. He was another one who she had made a mental note to introduce to Rosie, though she wondered if Curt’s brash personality would be too much for the soft spoken boy from Flatbush. Then again, you could never have too many friends.

“Hey uh, let me ask you something,” Pappy garnered the attention of the group. “Did I see a dog running around the hardstands earlier?”

“That’s Meatball,” Tattie groaned, catching a look from Val. “What! Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?” Val laughed, knowing exactly where Tattie was headed.

“Yea, Tat, Meatball’s a good boy,” Ev cut in teasingly. “He loves you, why don’t you love him?”

“Oh I like him just fine, Blakely,” She chuckled. “But I don’t like my clothes covered in doggy fur, or when he gets inside the Clubmobile.”

“Wait wait, hold on,” Pappy leans forward, eyes wide in amusement. “His name is Meatball?”

“Yes.”

“And he goes into the Clubmobile?”

“Yes.”

“What, does he make coffee and donuts too?”

“Oh no, he’s Benny DeMarco’s dog,” Everett chuckled. “He won him in a game of craps when we came over from Greenland.”

“He brought that dog up in a B-17?!” Rosie balked, eyes the size of saucers, reminiscent of when Val had found out how the Husky had made it to Thorpe Abbotts.

“He did, yea. Got him a mask and everything.” Ev laughed, remembering how Benny had paid a whole three dollars for a mask for Meatball before loading him into Our Baby in Greenland.

The five of them sat there a while longer, casual conversation and laughter surrounding them with ease. That blanket from earlier, the softness and warmth that had covered them had returned, the air around them comfortable and calm. A moment that had Val wondering just how long it would last. How long would it be before the light was on, and the boys were rushing between the briefing hut and the hardstand. Coffee and a donut for the road, a goodbye kiss and a prayer to return safely. Waiting in the Interrogation Hut to count the forts as they returned, rosary beads clutched between her fingers, and watchful eyes counting the men as they staggered back from their mission.

As the thoughts swirled in her mind, the sound of the siren cut through the night air and pulled the blanket off them with a vengeance. Red Bowman’s voice fell upon them as the siren came to a stop, his thick New England accent the only thing anyone could hear.

The light was on.

Everyone back to your racks.

It was as if she had willed it to happen just by hoping it wouldn’t.

“Well boys, you heard the man, light’s on.” Ev groaned, standing from his chair, hands held out to help Val as she moved to stand.

“The light?” Pappy asked, brows knit together.

“We’re flying tomorrow,” He nodded, gesturing to all the men filtering out of the Officer’s Club and back to their racks. “Better head back to your racks, you’ll find out in the morning if you’re on stand down or not.”

“Alright then,” Rosie stood, gesturing for Pappy to follow him. “Thanks for the warm welcome, everyone. Everett, Val, Tattie, have a good night.”

“G’night Rosie, Pappy,” Tattie waved, making her way inside the hut. “Val, I’ll give you two a minute.”

“Thanks Tat,” She smiled. “I’ll be in soon.”

With Rosie and Pappy gone, and Tattie in the hut, Everett took the opportunity to pull Val aside and give her a proper good night.

“You alright?” He looked down at her, his arms coming to rest around her waist as he held her close. “You look a little spooked.”

“No, I’m alright,” She peered up at him. “I just worry every time that god forsaken light goes on and you have to go back up.”

“Hey, I promise I’m always going to fight to come back to you.”

“Always?”

“Every single time,” He smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear before pressing his lips gently to her forehead. “We have a lot ahead of us, Valencia Chiara.”

“Oh do we now, Everett Ernest?”

“We do,” He winked, tugging her closer. “And I love you.”

She would never tire of those words coming from him. Nor would she tire of saying them back.

“I love you too,” She whispered, leaning up on her toes to meet his lips with her own. “So much.”

They stood there a few moments longer, holding each other closely while savoring the last few moments of quiet before chaos would ultimately descend on Thorpe Abbotts. Peaceful in each other's arms, safe together. Until Red Bowman’s voice was booming over the tannoy. Again.

JAMES DOUGLASS! BED NOW!

Val stood, face pressed against Everett’s chest as they stood there cuddling. The giggle bubbling in her chest burst free in one loud cackle as Olive and Dougie came skidding around the side of the hut, laughing like school kids. She hoped that no matter what, the playfulness that they all shared would always find its way back to them after touching back down on the ground after each flight. Oh, how she loved it so.

Part Seven

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @bobparkhurst @rosiesriveter @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @prettyinlimegreenboots @manonsmanicmind @precious-little-scoundrel @beingalive1

24 notes · View notes

darkimpala1897 · 8 months ago

Text

Buck and Bucky wedding would be pure chaos I'm just saying.

Bucky would walk down the aisle to 20th Century Fox Fanfare, because he's Bucky.

Hambone, and Douglass would do drunk karaoke.

Brady would be the one crying the entire time and I mean the entire time.

Blakely would be trying to sleep with the groomsmen.

DeMarco snuck Meatball in, who ate everything.

Rosie would have the best speech ever.

Crosby would have a drunk speech.

Bubbles would embarrassingly dance around, making everyone question who invited him.

Curt would be spilling all the embarrassing stories, he definitely knocked down either the wedding cake or ice sculpture or both well screaming "I'm Irish" at the top of his lungs.

Dickie is trying to clean up Curts mess.

Quinn lost BabyFace, and Bailey within five seconds somehow.

Winks and Ken are just filming the entire thing.

Kidd and Harding are just old man dancing together.

Helen is wondering why she came.

Sandra and Marge are also questioning why the fuck they came.

Murphy and Fredkin are literally the most chill ones, but Murphy eventually gets so drunk that he starts taking off his clothes.

Smokey is making sure nobody gives themselves alcohol poisoning, he ends up herding everyone home like drunk cattle.

Stormy is just embarrassed to know these people.

Daniels, Jefferson, and Macon were dragged to this shingdig by DeMarco who said "It'd be fun." And fun was one way to describe it.

42 notes · View notes

eternallytired17 · 6 months ago

Text

Quill and Ink:

A Masters of the Air / Bridgerton AU sequel to Amongst the Vines - WIP

John’s hands immediately fell to grip Gale’s thighs, allowing Gale to easily catch both of them by the wrists and pin them on either side of John’s head. He heard a rumble rise in John’s throat as he rutted up against him, the roughhousing having evidently aroused him. “You’re a crafty little fox, aren’t you?” He said, leaning down along the length of John’s body to murmur lowly in his ear. “Why must you always misbehave?” John grinned up at him, opening his captive hands in mock surrender. “Perhaps because I know for a certainty that you won’t hesitate to put me in my place.”

A few years into their respective marriages, Gale, John, Marjorie and Helen are spending the off-season in the privacy of Gale’s country estate, Boeing Hall. While Gale attempts to finalize the estate’s accounts in his private study, John makes it his personal mission to distract Gale from his work.

Based on the 'Chaise Lounge' prompt chosen from the vote a few weeks ago.

19 notes · View notes

jolalibrary · 1 year ago

Text

in the interest of trying to be positive about another year around the sun. welcome to:

mvtthewmurdvck's birthday bash 🎉 BEGINNING ON THE 6TH OF JULY

so we all know i'm not good with compliments, but as it tied well with me hitting 5k (thank you, btw. i adore you all), i thought i could use my birthday time, to give you all something. so, over five days, you'll receive a birthday-orientated fic with some of my favourite characters (see the list under the see more).

YOU CAN ALSO SEND IN (before the 6th, but won't be answered until the 6th):

🩷 ask me anything (anything you'd want to know about me) 5️⃣ top five (doesn't have to be characters or fics. can be songs, books, tv shows etc) 🎬 directors cut (questions about my fics, writing)

06. BADLY WRAPPED SECRETS (COD: Ghost x Helen)

07. UNWRAP ME NOW (Triple Frontier: Frankie M x F!Reader)

08. PHONE SEX BONUS LATE NIGHT TEXTS PHONE SCENE (smut)

09. A PILE OF CARDS (Narcos: Javi P x F!Reader)

10. COVERT CELEBRATIONS (Marvel: Bucky x F!Reader)

one rule only: do not ask me which of these days is my actual birthday. you're getting the small nugget of info that it is somewhere in these days.

masterlist ⧐ fic recs

#mm birthday bash #ghost x helen #frankie morales x reader #javier peña x reader #bucky x reader #matt murdock x reader

88 notes · View notes

braveclementine · 6 months ago

Text

Face Claims

Warnings: None.

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs: Elizabeth Silvertongue and Clementine Greenleaf. I also own Clementines' brother Donavan. The following OCs are owned by other Wattpad writers as this is a collaboration project. Their OCs are on the face claim page. I do not condone any copying of this.

MY OCS:

Elizabeth Silvertongue:

Clementine Greenleaf:

The OC of Project Lētālis by @XOXODessyGirl

Destiny Blakely:

The OC Of Project Enigma by @sw33tdr3ad

Helen Thrace:

The OC of Project Eitr by @Sleepyfanfic :

Ivy Crow

The OC of Project Vision by @RoseRomanovaMaximoff

Venus Howlett:

Side Note: The main stories are on Wattpad and also a few of the writers have paused their stories since they're not working on them right now.

8 notes · View notes

kaunis-sielu · 2 years ago

Text

Sick: 3

When you wake up you don’t feel much better than you did when you went to sleep. You’re just, exhausted.

But you won’t tell Helen that, she doesn’t look like she’s slept yet, she and Simmons are looking at something in microscopes. You don’t say anything until both women are away from the eye pieces.

“Hey,” Jemma glances over her shoulder at you, she’s in full hazmat gear and looks miserable.

“Hi. How are you feeling?” Jemma asks but Helen doesn’t look at you. You know that she isn’t because you’ll be able to tell with a glance if she’s rested or not.

“Totally fine. Has Helen slept yet?”

“No.”

“Helen.” You scold but she doesn’t stop working.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s been over 24 hours.”

“Not the longest I’ve gone.” She argues and you frown at her back.

“Jemma a little help here.” You look over at her and you see her sigh.

“Helen, we can do this, you should take a break.” Jemma tells her but you don’t have much hope she’s going to listen.

“I’m fine I swear.” She still hasn’t looked at you so you know it’s bull shit.

“Then look at me and say it to my face.” Helen is a shit liar and you all know it. You see her shoulders slump in defeat as she turns toward you. “The last thing we need is one of us down.”

“You’ll have to do it for me.” She tells you with a heavy sigh. “I can’t turn off, not with a puzzle like this.” You nod, if this is what you need to do to make sure she stays healthy and get some rest you’re fine with that.

“Do you just wanna share a room?” You ask and she nods then follows you into the room you’d just left. She lays on the bed that you hadn’t used and once she’s comfortable she looks at you.

“I’m ready.” She says softly and you touch her shoulder. With two slow, heavy blinks she falls asleep.

You head back out into the lab and head directly for Tony, Sam and Clint.

“How are they?”

“No change.” Jemma says, “Which is probably a good and a bad thing.” You nod as you gently touch each of your friends to make sure they’re not in any pain. You’re relieved that they seem to not be in much pain, you’re sure the IV’s they have in probably have some pain killers in them but you’re still glad you can focus more on other things. Like helping figure out what’s wrong with them.

“How are you feeling?” Jemma asks as she watches you take Clint’s temperature.

“Fine. A little tired but nothing like this.”

“The second you feel any sort of symptoms I need to know.”

“Okay.” You agree absently, Clint’s temperature is still up, 100° is a little high but it’s nothing like the 102.7° Sam was yesterday.

“Nox, I mean it.” Jemma says and you meet her gaze.

“I will. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I wasn’t listening.”

“I just, I’ve never seen anything like this and neither has Helen.”

“You’re worried.” You don’t have to ask, you can see it.

“Yea,”

“Me too.” You admit softly this isn’t like anything you’ve seen either. Someone taps on the glass of the wall and when you look over you see Steve. He’s holding a bag and a to go cup, god you miss him.

“Hi Honey,” he says with a little smile, “can I give you some food?”

“You’ll have to put it in the slot and send it through.”

“Can I stay?” He asks and you nod. Jemma suddenly vanishes to give you and Steve a moment. “I miss you.”

“I know but it’s the only way until we can figure out how to make this stop I can’t risk you.” You tell him, you can’t imagine how loud he must be talking. “Do you want to send an ear piece through? So we can talk?”

“You’re a genius.” He says with a grin before shoving the food and drink into the little delivery slot and closes the door on his side.

“Is it safe to come back or are you two going to be all gross and lovey?”

“I mean he’s going to get ear pieces so we can talk so, it’s probably going to be gross and lovey for a minute.” You tell her with a laugh and she fake retches. “Excuse me, you’re the one who got married to your bestie so don’t even with me.” You tease her and she laughs.

“I wish he could be here.” You hum softly, you’re glad you know where Steve is but you also wish he was a lot further away.

“Why don’t you get your pepper pods and call him? I know you two like to bounce ideas off one another and he might be helpful.” You open the bag and see a bagel wrapped in paper towel and one sip of the drink reveals that it’s not coffee like it looks, instead it’s orange juice. God you love him.

Steve comes back and sends an ear piece through and then gets comfortable on the other side of the glass as you put in the ear piece.

“I brought our book.”

“Chronicles of Narnia?”

“Yea.”

“You don’t mind reading?”

“Of course not.” You hum happily and Steve starts to read as you work. You’re peering through a new sample of Sam’s blood, whose temperature has gone down even more than before. It’s still too high but you’ll take it as good news, you have to take it as good news.

Helen wakes up a few hours later, you’re still listening to Steve read, he’s finished the Magician’s Nephew and has moved onto the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. You love the way his rich voice fills your ear as you work.

“How’s it going?” Helen asks and Steve pauses, the two of you are still only wearing masks, not the full hazmat suit that Jemma is wearing.

“Temperatures are down and Jemma has been working with Leo, running through things but so far no big revelations. How are you feeling?”

“Well rested. Thank you.” She says and you nod, “I’m going to take more blood. I just, I feel like this is there somewhere.”

“Do you want to take bone marrow too?”

“Maybe. I want a look at the blood again.” She says and you nod. The door to Bucky’s quarantine room opens and when you glance up you’re shocked at what he looks like.

“Buck?” Steve says in your ear and you know you’re not the only one who noticed how pale and confused he looks. Bucky stumbles toward Helen, he looks furious and you dart in front of her.

“Кто ты? Где я?” He growls in Russian.

“Bucky,” you say crouching, you just need to get a hand on him. “I’m your friend, Nox.”

“Кто такой Баки? Я не знаю тебя.” You dive then, touching his leg and he stumbles back. “Doll?” He says in English, and you hear the door open with a hiss. Steve has overridden the safety protocols and is in the room.

“No!” You scream jumping up and crashing into Steve to try and force him back.

“Bucky!”

“Steve?”

“Steve! Get out! Get out!” You’re in a blind panic, if Bucky can get sick so can Steve. “You have to get out!”

“Honey, it’s too late.” He says down at you with a sad smile, “I’m already exposed so let me help.”

“Why.” You breathe, “why would you do this? I can’t, Steve, I can’t.” You can’t lose him and it’s suddenly a very, very real possibility.

“He didn’t know you.” Steve says simply, his hand cupping your face. Of course he would abandon any thought of keeping himself safe if you were in danger.

“Nox! A little help.” Helen says pulling your attention to the her, Jemma and Bucky. “Steve at least put a mask on you dumbass.” She snaps and he nods moving away from you as you move toward Bucky.

“James, I’m going to help you rest now.” You tell him gently cupping his face, you’re grateful he’s already on the floor propped up against the wall.

“I’ll get him into a bed.” Steve says coming toward you.

“No!” You snap, “stay away from him.”

“Honey, I don’t think you can lift him.”

“Watch us.” You snap, and thankfully he stays back.

“Steve you should go to one of the quarantine rooms.” Helen says, and he scowls down at her. You focus on getting Bucky onto a backboard, rolling him as a team you, Jemma and Helen get him onto the backboard.

“On three,” Helen says, “one, two, three.” You all lift him together and place him on one of the two last open beds in the room. God please, please don’t let Steve be the next one. After you get Bucky onto the bed you check his temperature while Helen and Jemma get him hooked up to some monitors. Then Helen takes some blood and hurries over to the microscopes are. Steve watches from the doorway of his own quarantine room, his arms folded across his chest and the sight of him, in here, makes you want to vomit, to scream, to break something and to cry all at the same time.

“We’re going to figure this out.” Jemma says softly, placing a hand on your arm. You know you will, but will it be too late?

Tag list:

@foxyjwls007 @andahugaroundtheneck @also-fangirlinsweden @pagina16ps @princesssterek @valsworldofcreativity @dumblani @inkedaztec @loving-life-my-way @animegirlgeeky @shinycupcakebaker @eralen @sophham @gh0stgurl @killcomet @wonderlandfandomkingdom @abschaffer2 @capsiclesdoll @patzammit @sass-masterkittenmama @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

#steve rogers x reader #avengers imagine #imagine avengers #imagine steve rogers #imagine Steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #imagine captain america #Steve rogers #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #Tony stark #pepper potts #helen cho #natasha romanov #clint barton #jemma simmons #sick story

67 notes · View notes

elodium · 2 years ago

Text

Yoshino, the last mermaid, held Bucky's head above the water, and then let the waves carry them whether they please.

20/12/2022

#bucky barnes #bucky #oc #original character #bucky x oc #oc x canon #digital art #artists on tumblr #art #my art #illustration #totally inspired by Helen Stratton's Little Mermaid

2 notes · View notes

forasecondtherewedwon · 8 months ago

Text

my Masters of the Air masterlist

RATED T

coming in clear When Buck uses his bunk to hide the new radio, Bucky offers him a different place to sleep. Bucky x Gale | 1k | sharing a bed daring tales of heroism The fact that Crosby slept through D-Day just means Rosie gets to celebrate twice. Rosie x Crosby | 1k | celebratory kissing eggs in heaven Curious, the body, what it’d absorb and what it would not. Was Gale’s still his, or only as much as that powdered breakfast was still eggs? Gale x Bucky | 1k | emotional hurt/comfort

how to cook the loch ness monster If there’d been one, why not two? It was a big sky. Such a big, big sky, and Crosby clamped his eyes shut and listened hard to hear another plane, or one man breathing inside it, or little bubbles of air bobbing in a snow globe. Or, Bubbles' plane lands after Rosenthal's. Crosby x Bubbles | 2k | hurt/comfort my how they fly Bucky, Curt, and Buck wait out the fog. 1k | stolen moments stop-motion poetry the irony of loneliness / is we all feel it / at the same time - Rupi Kaur 1k | grief/mourning trading paper dolls Tired of the pin-up girls, Alex draws Buck Cleven in a similar style, never intending for the sketch to fall into the hands of Bucky Egan. Bucky x Gale | 8k | feelings realization

RATED M

hanging clothes They’d let the night grow late around them, cozy by the fire, and then she’d said goodnight, and then she’d reached for him, and then she’d reached for him again. Crosby x Sandra | 1k | voyeurism

RATED E

dear john The Regensburg-Schweinfurt mission changes John. What Gale can't say aloud, he puts in the letters he writes to John in his head. Gale x Bucky | 2k | love letters little fix Gale dabbed on extra cologne in preparation for the many, many hours he knew he'd be spending in the cockpit. Once in Algeria, the heat reinvigorates the scent, and John notices. Gale kinda likes that he does. Gale x Bucky | 2k | plane sex seven degrees east It's 1996. Soundgarden's on the radio, Charles and Diana are headed for divorce, and seven American PhD candidates are studying literature at the University of Thorpe Abbotts in Norfolk, England. Between taking Prof. Harding's summer class and obsessing over their favourite authors, the boys will kick asses when they must, and fall in love if they can. multiple ships | 35k | '90s AU

so I smile and say The night he and Sandra sit by the fire, Crosby almost cheats on Jean. It takes the voice of a departed friend in his head to help Crosby understand why he felt so close to Sandra, and which feelings really need to be resolved. Crosby x Bubbles | 2k | masturbation

41 notes · View notes

sycamorelibrary754 · 1 year ago

Text

Guardian Angel

Chapter 4: Fly Me to the Moon

Summary: In your worst moment, Wanda is there for you.

Warnings: Trigger Warning—car accident, blood, injuries, hospital, surgery.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This was an intense chapter. 😭 Shoutout to @arlana-likes-to-write for helping me with some dialogue at the end.

Guardian Angel Masterlist

On this gloomy Friday morning, you came to the decision that if you had a superpower, it would be the ability to fly. You could effortlessly soar above the annoying traffic and get to work on time. However, the sad reality is that you are no superhero. You can barely work the defroster in your car.

This morning, you woke up to the realization that your alarm had failed to go off. You had overslept and were now rushing to get ready for work. You had to forego your usual morning routine of sipping on coffee and listening to relaxing music, which usually helped you start your day on a positive note. Instead, you took a hurried shower and got dressed as quickly as you could. You had to get out of the door as soon as possible to avoid getting stuck in the morning traffic. The rain outside only added to your sense of urgency. As you drove across town, you couldn't help but worry about getting to work on time. The Candy Bar had recently become increasingly busy, especially with the start of the holiday season. You were hesitant to leave Harper to handle the rush all by herself.

Rain lashed against your windshield. The windshield wipers whipped back and forth over the window of your black Honda Acura, attempting to clear away the large droplets clinging to the glass. Wary of the number of cars around, you gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. As you approached the intersection of Second Avenue and Crosby Street, your traffic light turned green. You began to cross the threshold of the intersection when suddenly, a green car to your right rushed through the intersection at full speed, presumably trying to beat the red light. It happened so fast that you barely saw it coming out of the corner of your eye. You quickly slammed on the brakes and tried to turn the car to avoid a direct collision. The sound of your car's screeching brakes and tires skidding on the wet pavement shattered the silence of the street. In that split second, images of your life flashed across your mind like a slideshow. You saw yourself as a child, your high school graduation, your first day of college, and the day you opened The Candy Bar. All these moments seemed to flash before your eyes as you struggled to regain control of your car. But it was too late. Your car was struck with a tremendous force, causing it to flip once, then twice before landing upside down in the middle of the street. The last thing you remembered before the airbag deployed was the sound of shattering glass and the distant sound of cars piling up. Everything went black after that.

*^~^*

Natasha was undeterred by bad weather. She ran like clockwork every morning, converting her emotional pain into miles covered. She had a warrior spirit that never quit and knew that training was the key to success. Even off the clock, her training stayed with her, making her more alert, confident, and always on the lookout for vulnerabilities.

Maria was better at compartmentalization. Outside of work, a run was a run. That’s why when they both awoke this morning to the relaxing sound of rain, she was keen to skip the run and cuddle in bed with Nat just a bit longer. Unfortunately, she did not win that argument. Which is how she found herself running down the street next to her better half in the rain; hoodie pulled tight over her head. The soundtrack of their morning was the splish splash of their running shoes as they pounded through the puddles that had formed along their usual route.

"Let's go one more block, and then we'll head back," Natasha shouted over the sound of the rain.

"Thank God," Maria whispered.

“What was that, malyshka?”

"Sure thing, sweetheart!" Maria replied, giving a thumbs up.

Amid a peaceful moment, a sudden, piercing screech shattered the tranquility. The two women turned their attention to the noise and were met with the terrifying sight of a black car hydroplaning wildly out of control through the nearby intersection. Their breaths caught in their throats as they watched in horror as a green car, careening recklessly from the opposite direction, slammed into the driver's side door of the spinning vehicle. The black car was sent flying, rolling twice before coming to a rest upside down in the center of the street. The sickening sound of metal bending and glass shattering echoed eerily through the rain-slicked air as multiple cars piled up behind it as if they had all hit an invisible brick wall.

"Call it in!" yelled Maria.

*^~^*

After dropping her boys off at school, Wanda pulled into her driveway when a call came through on her Bluetooth. She quickly answered the call from FRIDAY's interface, displaying the compound's number.

“Ms. Maximoff, there has been a multi-vehicle accident approximately 2.3 miles from your current location. There are possible fatalities and multiple injuries. The team is on the way and requires your assistance.”

“On my way.”

As soon as Wanda landed on the scene, she could see chaos around her. Bruce had arrived and was frantically setting up triage to tend to the injured. At the same time, Maria was busy establishing a secure perimeter to keep the bystanders at a safe distance. As emergency services rushed to the scene, the sound of distant sirens could be heard in the background, growing louder with each passing moment. Onlookers had gathered, their faces etched with worry and fear, as they watched the unfolding events with a mix of shock and disbelief.

“Where do you need me?” Wanda asked.

That car took the worst of it,” Natasha interjected, pointing to the overturned black vehicle in the intersection. “See if you can help Stark with the driver!”

Wanda sprinted to the scene and arrived at the car just as Tony touched down, quickly scanning for a heat signature.

“One occupant. Female, early 30s, multiple internal injuries, vital signs ready,” FRIDAY announced.

Wanda crouched down to ground level and tried to peer through the broken window. Droplets of water ran down her skin, making it difficult to see. Her breath left her body as she finally took in the sight before her. You were still strapped into the driver's seat; the airbag deflated in front of you like an old balloon. Blood was trickling slowly down the side of your bruised and battered face. Wanda stood up and frantically tried to open the upside-down door, but the frame was poorly bent out of alignment.

"Whoa, Red! What are you doing? There's a safer way," Tony shouted.

“I know her!” Wanda yelled.

A repulsor ray from Iron Man’s hand quickly cut through the hinge of the car door. Wanda reached inside and unbuckled you from the seat. A trail of blood followed you across the pavement as she carefully slid your unconscious body from the car.

"Please don't do this to me, y/n. I can still feel you," Wanda said, her voice trembling.

Sam quickly rushed to your side and applied pressure to your stomach wound, tapping into his military training. "I've got you, Wanda. Cap and Bucky need your help."

The redhead looked over to see two super soldiers working to pry twisted metal apart to free other drivers from their cars. She then glanced back down at you, her breathing uneven as she hesitated, not wanting to leave your side.

"Friday, please contact the nearest Level One Trauma Center and inform them of the situation," Tony instructed.

“Go!” Sam exclaimed.

Wanda swiftly cleared the debris from the center of the pile-up. Her magic making quick work of the scene and created a path for Steve and Bucky to reach the other victims. The relentless rain showed no signs of letting up, causing water to collect around the wreckage. After an eternity, Wanda finally returned to you, navigating through the maze of broken and battered cars. As she approached, she could see that you were still lying motionless on the ground, a few feet from your vehicle. Meanwhile, Sam and Yelena were working frantically to save you. Sam was applying pressure to your abdominal wound while Yelena was administering CPR. They were so focused on keeping you alive that they failed to notice the fuel leaking from your gas tank.

“Sam, Yelena!” she screamed.

Your car ignited in a flash of fire just as Wanda reached you again. The bright flash hit her eyes just before the force of the explosion knocked the three of them back. She acted purely on instinct, containing the explosion in a sphere of glowing red energy. Dropping to the ground in exhaustion as the blast was diffused.

"Well done," Steve praised as he helped Wanda to her feet.

"Where are the first responders, Hill?" asked Bruce.

“The rain and the pile-up are making it difficult to get through. I’m working on it.” Maria said.

“She can’t wait. We need to get her out of here now,” Sam cautioned, removing his undershirt and packing your wound.

“I’ve got a pulse,” Yelena announced.

"St. Peter’s is the closest hospital," Kate said.

“I’ll clear a path,” Clint offered.

"No," Tony interrupted. "Take her to the compound. Get her to the MedBay. I'll notify Helen." He locked eyes with Wanda.

She looked into Tony's eyes, searching for insincerity, but found none.

“FRIDAY, run an X-ray and CT scan to assess spinal stability,” he ordered.

“The spine is stable, boss,” FRIDAY replied.

“Take her,” Tony ordered.

Wanda picked you up tenderly and vanished into the weeping grey sky. If she hastened, she could reach the compound within five minutes. Wanda prayed silently that you would hold on for that long.

A sharp intake of breath brought you around as searing pain surged through your broken body. A mixture of blood and water hit your tastebuds. Your vision was blurry and your hair was falling wetly in front of your eyes, but you could just make out Wanda’s face staring down at you. Her eyes began to glow red, and you felt the same sense of calm wash over you as the day you met her.

“Stay with me, Y/N. We’re almost there.”

Your eyes grew heavy as you succumbed to unconsciousness once more.

*^~^*

“Concussion, ruptured spleen, two cracked ribs, shattered collarbone, collapsed lung, fractured ankle.”

As Wanda stood there with tears in her eyes, her hands instinctively flew to her mouth, trying to suppress the gasp that threatened to escape her lips. She couldn't bring herself to accept what she was hearing, but as Dr. Cho went on reciting the list of injuries you had sustained, the harsh reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks.

“She’s in surgery right now. We can regenerate the damaged tissue with the cradle once she is stable. The nano-molecular functionality is instantaneous, but with the severity and number of injuries, it will take some time. Y/N will have a long road ahead of her to recovery.”

Wanda nodded, too afraid to say anything that might cause her to break down.

“Do you know if she has any family we should notify?” Helen asked.

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“It’s going to be a long day. You look exhausted. Why don’t you try and get some rest?” Helen suggested, placing a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “I’ll have Friday notify you when there is an update.”

“No, no, I’ll stay. I need to call Darcy to see if she can pick up the boys from school, but I’ll stay. I want to be here when she wakes up,” Wanda said somberly.

Helen nodded in understanding before turning and walking back into the Operating Room. The redhead sat on the sofa in the corner of the Med Bay, unable to process everything that had transpired in the last hour. Her mind replays the image of your broken figure lying upside down and motionless in your car. She glanced down at the drops of your blood staining her shirt; the shock prevented her from feeling anything.

The sound of the rain outside continued to fill the room as Wanda sat in the compound waiting room. Nurses and doctors walked in and out, their faces unfamiliar to her. She sat there, anxiously watching the clock as one hour turned into two and then three. Suddenly, a text message from Darcy lit up her phone, offering to help with the boys for as long as she needed. Wanda felt grateful for the offer and quickly sent a reply thanking her. She took off her coat and balled it up to create a makeshift pillow. She curled up on one end of the sofa and let her gaze linger on the operating room door. The redhead felt her eyelids grow heavy, and she fell asleep within minutes.

A gentle nudge on her shoulder woke Wanda after half an hour. She looked up to see Sam and Yelena standing nearby.

“Mhmm, what are you guys doing here?” She murmured.

“We wanted to see how she was doing,” Sam said.

“Y/N”

“Y/N,” Sam repeated.

“How is she?” Yelena asked, taking a seat beside her.

I don't know," she said, dragging her hands down her tired face. "I spoke to Helen when they first brought her into the OR, but I haven't heard anything since. She's in pretty bad shape," tears threatening to fall again. "What happened after I left the scene? Were there any casualties?

“No, thankfully.” Sam shared. There were a few other serious injuries: broken back, internal bleeding, severe whiplash. The first responders could get through a couple of minutes after you left. Hill wants to meet with law enforcement to discuss working together to improve response times.”

Wanda struggled to speak, her words catching in her throat. "Thank you for what you both did for her," she finally managed to say.

Noticing your blood on her shirt, Sam placed his hand on Wanda's thigh and said, "I'll be back with a change of clothes for you."

"Can I ask how you know y/n?" Yelena asked softly once they were alone.

“She was… is, the woman I helped in the café, and I bought the candy for Billy and Tommy’s birthday from her sweet shop.”

“I see,” Yelena said. “Does she know you have feelings for her?”

Wanda was baffled as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Oh, little witch. Don’t tell me you are that deep in denial?" she said, her voice laced with disbelief and concern. "We risk our lives daily to help people survive the worst moment. We are trained to do so with composure and presence of mind because otherwise, we risk letting our emotions affect our actions in the field," she continued. “You can't argue with that - it's the truth. I’ve fought alongside you for almost three years, and in all that time, I’ve never seen you react the way you did today. You care for her," the blonde said, her tone softening.

Wanda averted her gaze from Yelena, fixing it on an imaginary point on the dull white wall right in front of her.

“I barely know her,” Wanda sighed. “She doesn’t know me at all. Honestly, I’m not sure she should,” a single tear rolling down her cheek that she quickly wiped away.

“That is what you think, not what she thinks. Let her in. Sooner rather than later,” placing a loving hand on her arm.

"Wanda?" Helen interjected softly as she walked out of the operating room.

The redhead stood up anxiously. “Y/N is out of surgery and stable. It was touch and go at times, but she pulled through. She’s still under, but you can sit with her if you’d like. She's in Room 4.”

“Thank you, Helen. Thank you,” hugging Helen before looking back at Yelena.

“Go on, I’ll wait here.”

*^~^*

Wanda took a deep breath before opening the door to your room. The sight that greeted her was heartbreaking. Your face had bruises, and your hair was unkempt. You had a nasal cannula on your face, and there were several butterfly stitches. Your left arm was in a sling, and your right leg was in a cast below the knee, propped up gently on a pillow.

Despite your physical appearance, you looked peaceful. If it weren't for the steady beep of the heart rate monitor, she might've thought you were only sleeping. The redhead took a seat at your bedside, unable to take her eyes off you. Wanda could hardly believe she was sitting here. Three weeks ago, she didn't even know you existed. Now she was sitting in your dreary grey hospital room, praying you would wake up soon.

A young nurse walked into the room with a tablet in her hand. She recorded your vital signs and acknowledged Wanda's presence with a nod and a sympathetic smile. After leaving the room, Wanda was left alone with her anxious thoughts. She replayed your two brief encounters in her head and began to worry about your recovery. She couldn't recall you mentioning any family or significant other, which made her concerned about what your recovery would look like if it was true that you were all alone.

As you slowly started to stir, a barely audible groan broke Wanda from her trance. Hearing the sound, her head snapped in your direction. You felt heavy and broken all over your body, and when you tried to shift slightly, everything hurt. Gradually, the blinding light subsided, and you began to take in your surroundings, but you had no idea where you were or how you got there. Panic started to set in before a soft, sweet voice met your ears.

“Y/N, hey, hey… it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here.” grasping your hand.

You turned your head and saw Wanda's beautiful green eyes.

“Wanda?” Tears form in your eyes. “What happened? Where am I? What are you—?” Your raspy voice cracked and set you into a coughing fit. Wanda reached across your body and grabbed a cup of water sitting on the bedside table. Helping you to sit up slowly, she held the cup to your lips as you took small sips. She rubbed gentle circles on your back as the coughing subsided and your lungs relaxed.

“Easy, easy.. that’s it,” helping you lay back down. “You were in a car accident, y/n, but I promise you’ll be okay. You’re in the MedBay. It’s the hospital wing of the Avengers compound.” You stared at her for a few moments. Your brain was fuzzy, and you were having trouble understanding everything she was saying to you, “Avengers comp—what?” your voice hoarse and tired.

“I’ll get Dr. Cho,” reaching for your call button.

"No, no, wait, just wait," she did. She said you were in the Avengers compound, but that means, no, that's impossible. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t recognized her before. "You're an Avenger," you said slowly, her green eyes cast downwards to avoid looking at you. "Right?" You questioned when her silence wasn't a good enough answer. "That's the only way they would allow me in here."

"I am," she finally spoke but her eyes remained trained on the ground. "But I didn't want you to find out." You were a little taken aback by her confession. The stories that surrounded the Avengers were nothing short of heroic.

"Why wouldn't you want me to find out?" You questioned, voice barely above a whisper. "Being an Avenger is amazing. You are a hero. You-" you trailed off as you watched the woman sink into herself. "Wanda, why didn't you want me to know?" Sighing, she bit her lip and looked up at you.

"Does the town of Westview, New Jersey, mean anything to you?"

*Chapter 5 coming soon*

109 notes · View notes

mattmurdocksthighs · 1 month ago

Text

OCs + THEIR LOVE INTERESTS

FROM THE MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE [OC MASTERLIST]

estelle allen + helen cho estelle allen + david castaneda as bucky barnes

daniel jordan + pietro maximoff

adelaide clarke + jared padalecki as riley martin adelaide clarke + thor odinson

#original character #faceclaim #meet my ocs #love interest #marvel oc #marvel cinematic universe #helen cho x oc #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fancast #pietro maximoff x oc #oc x oc #thor odinson x oc

0 notes

elixirfromthestars · 2 months ago

Text

Lines Crossed

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)

Summary: You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warning(s): 18+ mdni / drinking / jealousy / forced proximity / smut / female reader / drunk jerk (stranger) / tension / will they won't they oh they will 🫣❤️‍🔥 / sex w/protection / pet names / sprinkles of possessive + protective Bucky so be prepared / there's a build-up so enjoy ❣️

Prompt: oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

a/n: Please be kind this is my first time writing something like this. 🥺🩶 I decided to challenge myself and join @mercurial-chuckles‘ smutty September fest. A tad late on the deadline because Hurricane Helene decided to take the power out. 😭 This is a standalone fic, but you can most definitely read it (and is intended to be) as a continuation of the events of A Night of Frights & Delights. Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! ❤️❤️

part one backstory // divider // ambiance 🤍

You step into the foyer of the Stark Manor, a grand staircase greets you, its golden railing glowing underneath an ornate chandelier. Various guests mingle around the manor, the buzz of conversation accompanying the music that pulses throughout. Everything about the sight in front of you screams old wealth and elegance.

Your eyes scan the luxurious home with an expression of awe. Despite being invited before, you had never come to one of Tony’s parties. Choosing the comfort of your bed and your favorite show instead. However, this time knowing a certain captain of the baseball team would be here—and your history with him—well you just had to come.

As you take it all in, your gaze locks on a pair of beautiful blues. The very same ones you were thinking of all day. And by the way he was looking at you, you knew he was awaiting your arrival just as much as you had been waiting to see him.

There was no denying he most certainly had been.

Bucky had arrived about half an hour earlier with some of his teammates. His impatience grew by the second at your absence. He was dying to see what you wore for the party. You denied him any sneak peeks, which only fueled his excitement. He tried distracting himself by greeting anyone he could and making conversation, but he continuously gravitated to the foyer, waiting for the moment you stepped in through those doors.

When you finally did, Bucky knew with the utmost certainty that the wait was worth it. When his eyes met yours you knocked the air straight out of his lungs with the black dress you were wearing. The satin dawning your body accentuated your silhouette perfectly—and the high slit at your right leg showed off the right amount of skin. The way you did your hair and your makeup complimented you perfectly, and Bucky was losing his goddamn mind because of it.

Sincerely, he was close to whisking you away and keeping you all to himself.

You looked nothing short of beyond stunning. Bucky had been holding back for months, staying within the lines you drew that night in the tent, and honestly, he deserved a medal for that. It’s the hardest thing he's ever done. What he felt for you couldn’t measure up to anything else in his life. Never had he felt so over the moon in his feelings for anyone. Yet, you brought on those sentiments by just being you. He was sure if he wasn’t in love with you yet, he was damn near close to it.

And right now, seeing you in that dress, his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. Places that only belonged to him and his bed on those nights you left him wanting more. Thoughts and scenarios where the night ends with him tearing that dress right off you and showing you just how serious he is about wanting you.

He’s not so sure he can be on his best behavior tonight.

Bucky discards the drink he had been holding and saunters over to you. Your heart races in your chest when you see the way his blues darken when he rakes his eyes over your form—shamelessly drinking you up. You take in his figure as well, the all-black suit giving him an aura of class and sophistication that was stirring something dangerous within you.

Bucky cleaned up good, real good.

He stops a mere foot away from you, his eyes twinkling with intentions both of you long for. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until his voice broke you out of your trance.

“There’s no way I’m letting you leave my side tonight, not in that dress,” Bucky’s voice is deeper than usual, contrasting the charming grin on his face. You roll your eyes playfully, “I don’t need a babysitter, Bucky,” you reply amused at the thought. Having Bucky by your side all night would definitely lead to you two enjoying each other’s company in other ways.

Not that you would object if it did.

Bucky’s hand reaches out to touch you, your heart skipping a beat as he adjusts the strap of your dress on your shoulder. His touch lingers for a second more as a light chuckle escapes him. “Maybe not you sweetheart, but I might. Someone’s going to have to keep me in check tonight. I already have a hard enough time keeping my hands off of you and now you walk in looking like a masterpiece and I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself?” He bites his bottom lip for a moment, almost as if to stop himself from saying too much.

“Something tells me you’re going to lay it on thick tonight, aren't you?” You tease him, all the while your body thrums with the way he compliments you. Bucky always knows exactly what to say to make you feel like the only girl in the room. An effortless gift he had only when it came to you.

“Can you blame me, baby? You walk in and suddenly it's like no one else exists,” his tone is softer, yet serious when he says this. Your heart skipped a beat when he called you baby. The weight of his attention felt in every fiber of your being. Bucky only ever called you baby when he wanted to really affect you. Reminding you of the pull he had over you.

The spell you two were under was suddenly broken by Darcy, who rushed over to where you were standing and linked your arm with hers. “Sorry! I’m going to steal her away for a bit there Bucky!” She says unapologetically as she tears you away from the man who looks like he could have devoured you if your friend hadn't interrupted. Your protests fall on deaf ears so you're left waving a small—but not definite—farewell to Bucky.

It seemed Bucky’s friends had been waiting for the right moment to steal him away too. As soon as you were in another room Sam and Steve went up to Bucky and dragged him to whatever antics the baseball team was up to. His disappointment matches yours, but if there was one thing he had proven all these months was that he had a lot of patience. He knew you two would end up crossing each other’s paths more than once tonight. It was only a matter of time.

“You forgot you promised to stick by my side tonight. My ex is here, I need the support,” Darcy reminds you with a slight pout. She looks like a ball of fire with the way she pulls you through the crowd in her crimson dress. Her eyes dart to every guest looking to avoid her ex at all costs.

“I didn’t forget. I was just saying hi to a friend,” you explain emitting a snort from Darcy, “A friend? If he’s just a friend than I’m the Queen of England.” You roll your eyes, a small huff of a laugh leaving your lips. Darcy wasn’t wrong. You and Bucky weren’t just friends, but you also weren’t anything more—and that was by your account.

You and Bucky have fallen into a grey area of what you are to each other. At first, after the camping trip, you tried avoiding him. Not because what happened upset you—but because you couldn’t trust yourself around him after that. Making out with him in that tent made you realize that what you thought had been an annoyance towards Bucky was actually the beginning of a deep-rooted crush. One that bubbled to the surface after that night.

Avoiding him altogether was an impossible task when he lived in the other apartment in the duplex you rented. Especially after he insisted on giving you rides back and forth from campus with the excuse that now that you two were friends it's only natural for him to be more friendly. By his definition, it also included things like buying you food on days he knows you’ve been too busy to get something for yourself, walking you to your classes whenever he has the chance, and going with you to art exhibitions to dabble in your passion with you.

Oh, and it also included kissing you mercilessly during tutoring sessions.

Around the time that fall semester began, Bucky asked you if you could tutor him on a few subjects. He hadn’t done the greatest academically last semester and he wanted to keep his grades up before baseball season started. You were hesitant at first, but ultimately gave in when you realized how sincere he was about needing the help.

Tutoring Bucky meant spending lots of time with him after classes. The sessions were innocent at first, but after the first time kissing on your bed, Bucky made it a tradition to have his lips on yours, and his hands wandering your body at every session. He even stopped hosting parties at his place, preferring being in your room and getting drunk on the taste of you.

Bucky was too infatuated by you to ever want to do anything else. Studying was an afterthought whenever you were around, and yet he was doing better than he ever had before in all his classes. Being someone you could be proud of was honestly the best motivation he could ask for.

Deep down you knew you were falling for him. There was a bit of apprehension on your part as you hadn’t known Bucky to ever have a girlfriend. From what you can remember, ever since you’ve known him, he was the kind of guy who preferred flirting and casual encounters. And there was no guarantee you would be the one to break that. So to keep yourself safe you drew those lines—built those walls up high to guard your heart. Bucky respected those lines and never crossed them. No matter how badly he wanted to.

Some days, like today, made you want to say screw the lines and just give in to what you desired most. However, when that desire included lowering those walls you put in place, you weren’t brave enough to risk it—so you didn’t. Instead, you and Bucky danced around those lines until it drove you both mad.

Your thoughts follow you for the next hour as you stay by Darcy’s side. Bucky has this natural way of consuming your mind lately—and your sketchbook. You wish you had it with you right now because when your feelings decide to overflow you channel that intensity onto the paper. For months, every page had been filled with graphite drawings of Bucky. His smile, his eyes, his determined expression when studying, his confident stance during baseball games, and everything else that sparked the creative fire in you. You found a lot of solace in drawing him.

Bucky was undoubtedly your favorite muse.

You're so lost in your thoughts you don’t register you’re in the kitchen of the manor until the guests around you cheer. It seems Darcy and Thor have fallen into a friendly competition of sorts to see who could down more shots than the other in one minute. A group of spectators and friends have gathered in the kitchen to watch the showdown go down. Your eyes dart to Jane who only gives you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. She is not looking forward to having to drive those two home later.

Contrary to your friends, you weren’t drinking much tonight. Bucky’s lingering presence at the party was all your senses needed to feel like you were in a daze. For appearances, however, you decide to grab one of the red solo cups to blend in with the rest of those around you.

“Hey, Y/n! Enjoying the party?” A male’s voice comes from your right and when you turn to see who it is a friendly smile appears on your face. It was Ian Boothby, a fellow art major at your university. You’ve had him in enough of your classes to consider him a friend.

“Hey, Ian. Yeah, I’m having a good time. Are you?” Your question is a catalyst for a much longer chat with Ian. The two of you fall into light conversation about the semester, art, and other relevant topics. It's a nice breath of fresh air compared to the thoughts that had been consuming you tonight. Especially when he tells you the story of one of his painting mishaps causing you to laugh along with him.

Soon after, a hand snakes its way around your waist, and when you smell that familiar woody muskiness you know exactly who it is.

“Having fun without me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice has a slight edge to it as he speaks, his lips forming a smirk. You face him and the look in his eyes stills you.

Bucky does not look pleased.

“Bucky, hey man. How’s baseball prep?” Ian beats you to it by addressing Bucky first. Bucky's eyes flick between you and Ian before he presses you into his side by the hold on your waist. This does not go unnoticed by Ian.

“Boothby, it's going good. How’s the cross-country season treating you?” Bucky asks, his tone giving away how uninterested he is in continuing this conversation. If Ian picks up on the animosity he doesn’t show it as he goes on and on about the sport. Bucky’s impatience grows the more he speaks and his hold on you gets a little more firm. When Bucky’s expression finally gives way to how he genuinely feels Ian finds a way to excuse himself and exit the conversation.

A beat passes before you finally speak, “Ian’s my friend. You didn’t have to scare him off like that,” you say with slight annoyance. Bucky clicks his tongue as he eyes you closely, “I didn’t, but I felt like it,” he shrugs cooly. “Didn't like the way he was looking at you.” He adds, his thumb rubbing small circles on your waist.

“Oh? And how was he looking at me?”

“Like in the way only I should be.”

The possessiveness in his voice catches you off guard. The air electrifying around you both at his words. You weren’t going to drink, but you suddenly felt the need to. You take a sip of the substance in your cup, the bitter liquid doing little to ground you. Bucky can tell how he’s affecting you and joins you with his drink. His eyes never leave yours as he gulps some of it down.

You have to stop yourself from inhaling the entire thing in one go.

“Ian’s harmless. He’s just comfortable with me because he’s an art major too. I’ve had a lot of classes with him,” you do your best to continue the conversation and ignore the way your body heats up when Bucky gives your hip a possessive squeeze. Massaging the area afterward in gentle strokes.

“You do a lot of bonding over paint?” Bucky’s response is slightly mocking, licking his lips to catch a drop of alcohol that wanted to escape. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he relishes the way you're looking at him now. Your gaze trained on his lips. When you realize he’s noticed, the heat from your body goes straight to your face.

You wouldn’t let him have the upper hand though. Never.

“Well, when you have to sketch someone’s naked body you obviously become friendly,” your reply causes Bucky to choke on his drink, the hand at your hip falling as he uses it to grab a few napkins from the granite counter behind him to wipe at the mess he made. You hide a wicked grin behind the rim of your cup.

He narrows his eyes at you, “Excuse me? What does that mean?” He knows what you mean, but he’s giving you a chance to tell him you're joking. He’s not hiding the jealousy that crawls up his spine at your revelation.

“It means Ian’s a nude model for some of my classes. He may not look like it but underneath those layers, he’s got the most gorgeous—” Bucky cuts you off with a fierce kiss, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you into him. There’s been plenty of times you’ve shut him up with your mouth and it was his turn to return the favor. Because hearing you talk about the naked body of another man gets under his skin in ways he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t going to just stand there and hear another word of it.

The kiss catches you by surprise, but soon your drink is discarded in favor of pulling him closer by his blazer. Not caring who sees or what anyone thinks, since it’s the first time you’ve ever kissed in front of others. Your craving for him was far too loud to ignore anymore. Your lips stay locked until your lungs burn begging for air.

Bucky pulls away with a smug smile, his voice an octave lower as he moves to whisper in your ear, “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. I know you love getting a rise out of me, but just so we’re clear—next time you want to mess with me like that—I’ll make sure you can’t even stand after I’m through with you,” his declaration causes a shiver to make its way up your spine.

You swallow hard, your mouth opening to say something, but no sound comes out. Bucky lets out a rough chuckle, ghosting his lips against your cheek before pulling away to stare at how speechless he’s left you. He’s blatantly savoring every second of it.

You want to say something—anything. Something witty or playful, but the thought of him making good on his promise—the image it conjures in your mind—keeps you silent.

“Buck! You’re needed at beer pong! Tony’s team is winning and the bet is up to five hundred,” Steve rushes into the kitchen, breaking through the bubble you two were in. His eyes dart between you and Bucky with a knowing look. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at the sight of you two.

You start to register there’s still an extravagant party happening around you.

Bucky sighs with slight irritation as he once again gets his moment with you interrupted. He reluctantly tears his attention away from you to call back to Steve, “I’ll be right there!” Steve nods in approval before going back the way he came.

Now’s your chance to say something, but Bucky pulls away from your body before you can. A coldness replacing where his touch used to be. “Hold that thought, baby. Looks like my team needs their star player,” he winks at you before placing a tender kiss on your forehead, “you keep thinking about what I said while I’m gone,” he says in a gruff whisper, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip in a barely there touch.

He knows he needs to leave before he takes this somewhere you can’t go back from.

Bucky doesn’t give you a chance to say anything as he makes a smooth exit. Heading out of the kitchen in the direction of the beer pong game. Your body prickling with an ever growing sexual frustration. You were embarrassingly close to snatching Bucky away and giving in to all your desires in one of the many rooms of the manor.

“You two need to get a room,” Jane seems to read your mind as she teases you. Appearing from behind you once Bucky was no longer in sight. You can’t deny her words, letting out a small huff, “I don’t know what good that would do. I’ve been clear about not wanting to take things further.” You explain to her, not sure if you could go back on your words for the sake of giving in to what you want now. Jane has had this conversation with you a few times before, and it appears she's hit her limit today.

“That man is absolutely head over heels for you. How can you not see that?” Jane shakes her head at you, wondering how she can make you realize what you already know yet deny. There's a vulnerability that overcomes you when you reply, “It’s not that I don’t see it. I just—I’ve never seen him be serious about anyone. The only thing he’s ever serious about is baseball.” Jane looks like she’s about to do something drastic at your denial.

“Y/n, Bucky is serious about you. He’s literally all about you—he’s chosen you over baseball many times. I’m not around him like you are and even I can see it clear as day. Do you know Thor and like half of the baseball team thinks you two are secretly dating? Stop denying what you know deep down is true and just give in—be happy,” Jane tells it like it is, her tone leaving no room for argument or denial.

For so long Bucky has shown you another side of him—one not many get to see. He’s given you priority and importance when he didn’t have to. Care and consideration when you needed it most. A shoulder to lean on and a steady support to rely on. Time and time again Bucky has demonstrated how much you mean to him.

Perhaps, you both have been something more to each other for a long time and Bucky’s kept his wishes at bay to make sure things developed at your pace.

When it finally hits you, you almost feel exposed by how skillfully Jane can read you. At how easily she can see the situation for what it is and not for what your worries twisted it to be. If Bucky had made it clear to you how he felt, what was stopping you from taking things further than they had been before?

At this point, nothing, nothing was stopping you but yourself.

This realization follows you to the dance floor. A very drunk Darcy had pulled you to it along with Jane, babbling tipsily after losing the drinking competition to Thor. You had never seen a living room with such high ceilings before or enough room to host a makeshift dance floor and a DJ booth. The living space had been stripped of its furniture and supplied with top-notch equipment to make it resemble the inside of a club.

At least in the near darkness, it resembled one.

You’re in a huddle of your closest friends, all of them letting the music guide their movements to their heart’s content. You sway absentmindedly, so you're not merely standing there awkwardly. The kaleidoscope of party lights strobe and kiss your skin with an array of colors as the music thumps around your body.

A loud cheer catches your attention, the source of the sound coming from a table on the far left end of the room. Tony and his friends were boisterous as they made a shot against their opponent's team in beer pong—Bucky’s team. You had a clear view of it all from where you stood.

Bucky’s team seems to be taking turns on who drinks every time Tony’s team makes a shot. They look amongst themselves until Bucky steps up and chugs the liquid in the red solo cup. It's like he can feel the shift in the air because as soon as the cup is away from his lips his eyes scan the space and find you, and suddenly it's like you two are the only two people in the room.

You want him—all of him. You enjoy the teases, the banter, the back and forth, but you know you’d enjoy calling him yours more.

The music picks up in tempo as your boldness grows. Keeping your eyes trained on him, your hips begin to sway provocatively, tempting him to say screw the game and make his way towards you instead. Bucky’s not even paying attention to the game anymore his eyes soaking up your every move as it fans the flames of desire between you. The atmosphere around you buzzes as the ground shakes due to the sea of dancing bodies, and yet nothing thrums within you more than your need for Bucky.

The little show you’re putting on for him continues as you roll and wave your body in ways that seduce him. Ghosting your hand along the curves and dips of your figure showing him exactly where you’d like his hands to be. Bucky’s mind is reeling with everything he wants to do to you and none of it involves the dance floor and all of it involves you and him in some private corner of the manor where he can show you exactly what his hands are capable of.

You are making it impossibly hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

Slowly and with shady intentions a group of drunk guys circle the huddle of you and your friends like vultures. Finding their way to snake themselves into any corner or crevice they can fit into. Their bodies bumping and grazing against yours. There’s one guy in particular that has his sights set on you. Getting closer to you on the dancefloor and creeping his hands along your waist. You swat his hands away, but he doesn’t disperse immediately. The alcohol on his breath fanning your face causing you to gag. The more you dismiss him the more adamant he was about keeping you close to him.

Almost instantly, a protective grip pulls you away from the drunk guy. A familiar warmth encases you as Bucky pulls you into his chest, your back to him. Your hands find their way to hold his arms to ease the displeasure the drunk had caused.

Bucky glares at the drunk guy, his gaze cold and unapologetic, “Alright, that's enough.” The drunk guy sneers, his words slurred, “What the—what’s your problem bro? We’re just—” Bucky doesn’t let him finish, “Shut up. You’re not doing anything. You’ve got two seconds to back off or we’re going to have a problem,” Bucky’s reply is sharp and menacing. He directs it to all the men that had swarmed you and your friends.

Shifting you so you stand at his side, Bucky steps forward to let the guys know he’s not messing around. Your hold goes to his right arm where you’re watching the exchange unfold anxiously. You hope things don’t escalate, not wanting Bucky to get into a scuffle. You know he can handle himself, but the idea of him getting hurt in any way caused your heart to ache.

The guys size Bucky up and it seems some of them think they can take him on. Until the strobing lights illuminate Bucky’s darkened gaze enough that in their drunk haze, they finally recognize him as captain of the baseball team. That means that fighting Bucky meant taking on the entirety of the team. And with the way Sam and Steve were looking over to see if they needed to step in, and Thor was already storming over—they knew they didn’t stand a chance.

It was comical the way the drunk men scramble to get away as fast as they could. Muttering incoherences and apologies under their breath. They don’t get far as Tony’s hired security for the night promptly kicks them out.

Thor comes up to check on everyone, giving special attention to Jane who keeps assuring him she’s fine. You turn to Bucky, who’s already inspecting you to make sure you are alright, “Bucky I—” You almost tell him not to worry, that you had things under control, but in reality, you’re glad Bucky stepped in.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, Bucky’s tense demeanor softens at your words. He moves to get a better hold on you, his grip at your waist protective teetering on possessive.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. I got you—always,” Bucky’s genuine response makes your heart flutter and your pulse quicken. Your senses are awakened by his proximity, completely enamored with the way he looks at you.

“Plus, if I’m going to fall for the most beautiful girl in the world, I have to know how to fight right?” Bucky says this like it's the most obvious thing, smirking at the way you don’t hide the smitten grin he elicits from you. There’s a sparkle in your eyes as you stare at him, Bucky’s heart racing at the sight of it.

“You and your compliments,” you give a breathless laugh, letting your guard down for once and going with the flow. Bucky can sense it. Sense the way there’s a shift between you, the blossoming of something bigger being accepted and not pushed away by you anymore.

“Only for my girl,” he says this like a promise. His right-hand goes up to gently brush against your cheek. You lean into the touch, that same hand cupping your cheek in response. Bucky has never felt more elated knowing that maybe finally you two can go to places he’s only dreamed of.

“Yours?” You question him playfully, which causes him to chuckle, the sound a low rumble, “You and I both know you are, sweetheart. I told you I had all the time in the world to make you fall for me—and I meant it,” he smiles, an intense fire in his eyes that only accumulates when you respond, “You don’t have to wait any longer, Bucky.”

He wastes no second to connect your lips, kissing you with a loving purpose. His lips have a slightly bitter taste to them from the beer that still lingered there. And yet, the bitterness disappears when one kiss turns into two and then three. His arms encircling you to pull you into his chest, your hands finding their way to the nape of his neck.

Bucky pulls away to ghost his lips against your jaw until his lips brush against your ear, “Those little moves you were doing for me earlier, do them again,” his husky tone sends a shiver down your spine as he tugs you in to dance with him. Your bodies mold to one another, hips swaying in rhythm with the vigorous music. The beat allows you to gyrate and grind in ways that drive him to the edge of his control.

His hand rests on the small of your back, holding you close, fingers splayed out as if making a silent claim. You can feel the way his gaze burns into you, the air getting hotter making it harder to breathe. Your hands trail up and down his arms as need be. The rest of the party fades away leaving you two alone in this space of this charged energy. Every lingering touch and longing glance is layered with unspoken urges that would soon intensify to the brink of madness.

“You have no idea what you do to me do you?”

“I do. I’m not immune to what’s going on between us, Bucky.”

Your body, your voice, the way you plead with your eyes for him to take this further—it causes a stirring within his pants—the fabric getting tighter the longer the dance goes on. He needs to get you away, to get you alone. Bucky needs to satiate this hunger for you that threatens to consume him or he is going to end up doing something Rated R on this dance floor.

The throbbing between your legs agrees.

An idea pops into Bucky’s mind when he glances at his group of friends. He increases the volume of his voice so you can hear him over the music, “The baseball team was going to host a game of hide and seek. Should we play?” Playful mischief glimmers in his eyes as he asks you.

“Hide and seek? Seriously?” You raise a brow, wondering how that was going to work in a mansion full of a million rooms.

“Yeah, come on. It'll be fun,” Bucky draws you away from the dance floor and over to where his friends are mingling and taking a few shots. Steve sees Bucky approach and they have a quick whispered exchange. Your eyes dart between them, curious as to what they're discussing.

“Seems like we’re getting a head start,” he comments to you as he leads you away from the main party and down a few intricate hallways. His hold on your hand is firm, yet careful—almost as if he’s afraid you’ll get lost in one of the many corners of the manor. The thrum of the music fades the further you slip away from the party. Your pulse spikes, both from the adrenaline of the game and the heat that still simmers between you.

Bucky has been to Tony’s parties plenty of times before, so he knows the layout of the manor pretty well. The clicking of your heels along the marble floors echoes at the pace of the beating of his heart. He tries to focus on the expensive artwork that lines the halls instead of the way your hand perfectly fits in his. The artwork is what’s guiding his path through the manor and you are the best distraction he could ask for.

“Where are we going?” Your voice echoes down the endless hallway.

“Somewhere no one will find us,” he winks at you, your heart skipping a beat at his words, his pace steady and purposeful as he turns one more corner and slips you two inside a room. You're encased in darkness, blindly feeling for a light switch until Bucky uses the flashlight on his phone to illuminate the space. You faintly make out your surroundings. You seem to be in one of the many guest rooms of the manor. The attention to detail in the room was no short of the attention paid to the rest of the place.

You knew Tony’s family had money, but seeing how they splurged for a mere guest room, meant his family was beyond loaded.

Bucky whispered something to you, but you didn’t catch it as he took you by the hand and ushered you into the room’s closet, clicking it shut behind him. He reaches up to turn on the small lightbulb to cascade the enclosed space in a soft glow, turning off the flashlight on his phone and putting it in his pants pocket. The tension is now thicker and more palpable in the small space, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

If you had a dollar for every time you and Bucky ended up in a tight space together, you would have exactly two dollars. While maybe strange, it somehow seemed fitting for you two.

Bucky steps closer to you, your bodies inches apart, the dim light doing nothing to dull the intensity in his eyes, “Now that I’ve got you here—I think I did a good job with the hiding spot, don't you?” His heated whisper brings your breath to a hitch.

You have to clear your throat to compose yourself, “I don’t know…We had a whole mansion to hide in, and you chose a closet?” You can’t help but tease him, trying to lighten the unbearable tension.

“Would you rather go hide in the library? The wine cellar? The arcade?” His voice is dripping with mirth taking another step closer to you. He knows what you're doing, but he’s not going to let the tension die down—not this time.

“The arcade sounds fun,” you quip, leaning back against the wall.

“Hm, maybe, but I prefer the closet. It’s a lot more private and it has its…advantages,” he reaches out to pull your hand up to his lips, planting a soft kiss across your knuckles. You go to use that hand to lightly push at his chest, but he catches it in time and intertwines your fingers instead. Your heart is racing a mile a minute.

“Maybe the closet isn’t so bad, but these heels…Worst decision I made tonight,” you shift slightly, not meaning to change the subject, but your heels are torturing you. In the quiet of the closet the pain begins to creep up on you, begging to be acknowledged. After hours of walking on them, dancing, and standing overall—your feet were killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand upright while hiding.

“Are they hurting you?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Lets get them off then,” Bucky slides his hand underneath your right thigh, eyes locked on yours, as he hikes it up against the outside of his leg. Your hips brush up against his front, your breath catching at the intimacy of the moment. He watches your every reaction as he slides his hand down the underside of your leg until he reaches the strap of your heel. He’s able to undo it effortlessly, relieving you of the discomfort, his fingers grazing your ankle as he slides your right heel off. His every touch leaves heat in its wake.

“Bucky you really don't have to—” he cuts you off with a soft smile and half-lidded eyes, switching his hold from your right leg to your left one, “I want to, sweetheart. Just let me help, ” he removes the other heel with the same tantalizing tenderness he used for the first one. Putting them to the side where they won’t get in the way.

The relief you feel is immediate.

“Better?”

“Much.”

“Good.”

A moment passes before he speaks, his voice quiet with an underlying devotion, “You don’t get the hold you have on me, do you?’’ His right hand dances along the outside of your thigh while his left plays with the strap of your dress, twirling it between his fingers. The hand at your thigh traces patterns onto it. Trailing intricate swirls across the flesh, along your hips, ascending to your waist, and all the way up to the space between your breasts. The touch lingers there when you let out a soft sigh.

You honestly forget how to breathe.

“Say the word and I’m all yours, Y/n,” his voice is rough as his lips ghost against yours—seductively grazing against them. Going so far as licking his lips with an invigorating grin to really drive you crazy.

Bucky is waiting for you to make the deciding move. When you realize this, you throw all caution to the wind, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. You waste no time in granting him access to deepen it. Bucky follows your lead ardently. His hands snake down your body to cup your ass and pull you impossibly close to him.

Your hands get lost in his hair, a groan rumbling through him at the way you tug at it. You two aren’t sweetly kissing, you're devouring each other. Yearning for the other all night leaves no more room for taking things slow or holding back. You’re both now giving in to what you want most—each other.

The heat between you intensifies until it crescendos to a boiling point. The aching between your legs imploring you to do something about it. You reach down to tug at the waistband of his pants, causing Bucky to let out a husky laugh.

“If you want something use your words, sweetheart,” he mutters against your lips, you suppress a groan, “You know what I want. I don't have to say it,” you retort impatiently. Bucky shakes his head, smiling despite himself, “I want to hear you say it,” he dips his head to the crook of your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. The hands on your ass give it a light squeeze emitting a small gasp from you. You can feel the shit-eating grin on your neck.

“Bucky….I…” your words are cut off by a soft moan when Bucky’s left hand sneaks its way through the slit of your dress until he reaches the inside of your thighs. He massages the flesh there, his thumb brushing against the hem of your panties.

Your arousal pools impossibly more, and the lustful haze only increases at the way you feel his hardened cock straining against his pants—right against your hip.

“Mm? What was that, baby? Couldn’t hear you over those pretty noises you're making,” his every word drips with cockiness.

“You're insufferable.”

“That’s my girl.”

Bucky kisses your neck with more fervor. Sucking and nipping at the skin hard enough to leave marks. Your thighs involuntarily close together at the way he calls you his girl. He eases them back apart with his deliberate touches. Kneading the soft flesh in his hands as his breathing goes ragged along your neck, tickling your skin. He was on the brink of losing what little control he had left.

You suck in a sharp breath, losing what little semblance of control you had left the higher his touch gets. He only goes so far, barely brushing across your clothed cunt to give you a taste of what he can do if you just let him hear it. You were desperate for more and he knew it.

“Fuck me, Bucky,” you manage to whimper out, hooking your fingers into his empty belt loops and yanking him towards you. Bucky lets out a low growl at the brief friction, his eyes darkening to an almost unrecognizable color. For a moment, his brain short circuits at your words, processing that you really said that to him accompanied by that alluring sound. He’s heard those sinful noises from you before, but never like this. Never with the assurance of more.

“Say it again.”

“Bucky, please just fuck me already.”

You don’t have to tell him another time. Bucky crashes his mouth onto yours with a new intensity, mumbling lustful promises into your mouth. How he wants you, how badly he aches to make you feel good, how he yearns for his pretty girl to lose herself with him, and so many more things that make you dizzy.

He moves to bunch up your dress, hiking it up your legs until it's bundled at your waist. His breathing strains at the sight—your black lacy panties luring him in—his muscles tensing at the growing need to be inside you. His left arm reaches down to hook his forearm under your knee and bring it up to his hip. You wrap that leg around him, steadying yourself on your other foot as you grind against each other. You can feel the way his cock aches to be freed and it causes you to arch deeper into him. Your moans mingle into one, the slight relief overwhelming you.

Bucky takes his free hand and splays it at the small of your back, offering strong support as your bodies continue to grind against one another. A chorus of moans and yearnful whines erupt from you both. All of the pining and hunger for one another amalgamates into one as you continue to rub against each other. You swallow each other’s sounds, tongues tangling carnally as neither of you leaves any room for air.

“Do you have—?”

“Back pocket. Wallet.”

Your lips barely disconnect at the brief exchange. You reach behind him, patting down his backside until you feel the outline of his wallet in his pocket. You take hold of it and bring it forward. Meanwhile, Bucky decides to leave wet kisses along the valley of your breasts. You can barely contain yourself and your soft moans as you pull out the condom. The wallet almost slips from your grasp as the attention to your breasts causes you to tremble.

You hold it tighter intending to put it back in his pocket when something catches your eye. In the clear slot where his identification should be is a polaroid picture from the weekend camping trip. You’re in that picture sitting next to Bucky on a couple of logs surrounded by your friends and peers. There’s a bright smile on Bucky’s face, his arm around your shoulder as you make bunny ears behind his head.

You love this picture. You have a copy of it taped to your bedroom mirror back home.

At your stillness, Bucky looks up to see what’s going on. When he notices you staring at the picture, he smiles fondly. " It's the only picture I had of us,” he utters softly, causing a warmth to spread throughout you. You gaze at him in tender awe, marveling at the fact that Bucky is real.

Why had you ever doubted he was anything but yours?

You kiss him this time with all the unspoken feelings you’ve bubbled up and kept inside. The wallet falls from your hands, but it's no matter as Bucky kicks it to the side with his foot, and shudders at the way your lips claim his. This goes beyond lust. Your heart beats with reason, and that reason is the man in front of you.

“Bucky, I want this. I want you. All of you,” you whisper passionately, your hands lowering to help him unbutton and unzip his pants, the foil neatly tucked between your fingers. A guttural moan leaves him when you push the layers of fabric down and free his cock, pumping it a few times to get a feel of it. His head falls to your shoulder, sighing softly in a near whine as you tear the foil open and roll the protection down his length. It twitches in your hands, his hips bucking at the contact.

His arms are preoccupied with keeping you close and steady, so you gently guide him to your center. Moving your panties to the side as he tantalizingly slides along your folds before he slowly enters you. Your mouth goes agape at the sensation while Bucky has to do everything to make sure he doesn’t cum right then and there.

This was so much better than what he had imagined in his dreams.

It's been too long since you’ve done this and the burn at the stretch causes you to cry out quietly. Bucky peppers your face with sweet kisses and whispers of devotion. Trying to do his best to comfort you as he lets you adjust inch by inch. The hand at the small of your back rubs circles into it with his thumb, your own hands shooting up to grip his biceps for support.

“I’m not gonna last if you tighten up like that sweetheart,” he hisses a groan at how tightly your walls envelop him. You’re really making it hard for him to not come undone in a short amount of time.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby, just relax for me.”

His gentle words are accompanied by thrusts that are slow with a deliberate purpose. He’s careful with his pace as he wants this to go at whatever speed you need. It takes a bit, but his soft kisses and comforting touches coax the burn away until you're left with the ardent ache of needing more.

“Faster, Bucky,” you plead breathily. He rests his forehead against yours.“Can you handle it, baby?” His question is full of loving concern, prioritizing your pleasure over everything.

“I can…fuck…please,” you assure him, your leg pulling him in tighter causing him to bottom out. Bucky curses and moans all in one. At your assurance, he picks up the pace of his hips, rocking them against you with a fiery velocity. The lewd sounds bouncing off the walls of the closet in waves.

He gives it to you exactly how you asked him to. That man would do anything for you—just say the word and its done.

Bucky is on cloud nine at the way you take him. The way your bodies mold and arch into one another’s like you can’t get enough. As if all you ever needed to consume to live was each other. When he goes to kiss you, you can barely kiss back as you’re too lost in the way he slams into you.

“Fuck, baby, if only you could see yourself. You’re so fucking gorgeous making those pretty expressions for me,” Bucky grunts out, drinking up the sight of your face. A string of mewls leaves your lips at the keen attention he keeps on you. Everything about you right now is a work of art in his eyes he wants framed and kept at his bedside. A constant reminder he’s the one who gets to make you look and feel so damn good.

“Don’t stop, please don't stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to, sweetheart.”

Your words egg him on to go harder, causing your back to press tightly against the wall. Hiking your leg just a tad bit higher to thrust into you at another angle. This was the best decision he ever made as he hits the perfect spot within you. One that leaves you clinging onto him desperately as your walls tighten on the brink of release.

It takes a few more fierce drives into you until your orgasm hits you and you're cumming with a feverish intensity. Moaning Bucky’s name in a euphoric mantra that’s music to his ears. It's what brings him over the edge and he stills at the force of his orgasm, his head collapsing into the dip of your neck as he releases into the condom.

“My girl. My sweet girl. You feel so good, baby,” Bucky softly whispers against your neck. Planting small kisses as both of you come down from your highs. Your arms wrap behind his neck to embrace him and keep him close to you. Bucky continues to mutter sweet praises along your skin, as your hands thread through his hair tenderly. Both of you steadying your breaths as you come back down to Earth.

If it weren't for Bucky holding your right leg up, it would've fallen from its position at his hip long ago. You’re even more grateful for it now as your body felt completely boneless. And when he pulls out, its the grip he has on your body that keeps your knees from buckling.

Bucky lifts his head so his gaze locks on yours. His blues are swimming with a vehemence that steals your breath and causes your pulse to race.

“Y/n, I…I wanted to give you some time. Time to figure things out—to figure out what you wanted. I tried pretending I was okay with pieces of you, but I’m not. I want all of you. I want to be yours,” Bucky confesses with sincerity. You reach out to interlock your hands with his, a floodgate of emotions engulfing you.

“Bucky—” you start, but he’s not hearing it, afraid you’ll want to go back to a place that would devastate him. “Wait, just hear me out. Everything I ever did was to get you to notice me. From the moment we met there was just something about you that kept pulling me in. And I knew—I just knew I had to get to know you. And then one thing led to another and I fell for you—hard. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. There's only you. It’s always been you. Give me a chance, let me prove it to you every day, that I’m yours. That I have been for a long time,” Bucky’s tone borders on pleading, you give his hands a light squeeze to ease the worry in his features.��

“Bucky you have nothing to prove—”

“Y/n—”

This time you stop him by clamping a hand over his mouth.

“Bucky, you have nothing to prove because I’ve felt the same way for a long time. I just fought it for so long out of fear that maybe you weren’t serious about me. But I can see now I was wrong. I’ve been yours for a long time too, Bucky. I just pretended I wasn’t—and I’m done fighting it. I’m done being in denial. I want to have something serious with you. I’m ready for it,” your heartfelt confession immediately melts away the tension in Bucky’s shoulders.

You wanting this as much as he did made him feel like he was on top of the world.

He mumbles something into your hand, the biggest grin on the other side of it. You laugh adoringly at the sight as you remove your hand to replace it with your mouth instead. Both of you sink into the kiss as a deeper devotion is exchanged.

“Whoever is seeking is horrible at it,” you remove yourself with a light giggle, taking a jab at whoever the seeker of the hide-and-seek game is. A game that was long forgotten by Bucky until you mentioned it.

Bucky smiles sheepishly, “About that…there's not actually a hide-and-seek game. And if there is they don't know we’re playing,” he confesses with a twinkle in his eyes. You shake your head at him, laughing in disbelief, “Bucky, then what were you and Steve whispering about?” Your curiosity is met with a boyish grin from Bucky, “I was just letting him know not to come looking for me. I wanted to get some alone time with you,” his hands find your hips again to give them a gentle squeeze.

Bucky is far from done with you yet.

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at his revelation. Of course, he’d come up with a way to get you all to himself. Can you blame him?

After a few more stolen kisses and lingering touches, you both start to compose yourselves. Adjusting your outfits and collecting your items from the ground. Thankfully, the guest room has its own bathroom where the two of you can clean up much better than in the small closet. Tousled hair, smeared makeup, and sweaty skin required a deeper attentiveness.

You both take your time in freshening up. The bathroom lighting does wonders to reveal every piece of evidence of your sexual encounter. You can now clearly see all the red marks that would eventually turn into hickeys that scattered your neck and chest. Bucky beams pleased at the markings he’s left as you scold him for making them so prominent.

Bucky doesn’t give a damn. He’d gladly make more in an instant.

By the end, all that's left is to get your heels on, which Bucky insists on helping you with. He offered to carry you for the rest of the party or even giving you his shoes, but you declined both options. You paid good money for these heels so whether you liked it or not, you were forcing yourself to wear them.

Bucky helps you up onto the expansive marble counter. Lowering down onto his knees in front of you to slide your heels back onto your feet. Nimble fingers work the straps into place, making sure they're not too tight at the ankles. When he looks up at you, a devilish grin appears on his face. That spark of desire is back in your eyes when you see how good he looks knelt between your legs. Your mind was reeling with ideas as the heat once again pranced across your skin. Bucky’s gaze bore into yours, almost as if he could read your mind. He can’t help but get turned on again.

You were in the same boat.

“You know, I have a big stats test on Monday. I could use an emergency tutoring session right about now,” his tone is laced with suggestion as his fingers trace along your ankle. You hum, “Hm? Do you? I think I could accommodate that.” Your reply gives Bucky the go to start kissing up your legs until he reaches your knees. He never breaks eye contact as he places a tender kiss on each one before standing up and giving that same attention to your mouth.

“Perfect. Let’s get out of here, sweetheart,” Bucky mutters against your lips, the kiss a promise of the fun awaiting you for the rest of the night. Now that the lines were blurred beyond recognition, into something deeper, something real, you were both completely all in.

#smutty september fest 2024 #indulge with chuckles #18+ ❤️‍🔥#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky smut

833 notes · View notes