#band of brothers fan fic

[indigo-graves]

Rusty pt. 2 |Lewis Nixon|

---SMUT AHEAD--- 18+

Nixon knew better than to respond to her words with the force of every kiss he had stopped himself from planting on her full, pouted lips over the past three years. There were moments where he was so intoxicated (both figuratively and literally) by her that he thought he may reach his breaking point. Had he known there was a similar eagerness within her, this day may have come far sooner. 

The way she looked up at him through her long lashes caused a tension in his lower abdomen that she would soon feel the result of, pressed so close against her form. He surveyed the room, taking inventory of just who in the company was even paying attention to the heat radiating from the pair of them in the center of the room. With a war won and a store of alcohol to last them years, they were little more than just furniture for the rest of them to oscillate around. 

“Nina…” Nixon spoke gently, leaning forward so his lips were nearly against the shell of her ear. “Tell me I’m dreaming.” 

She giggled at the softness of his breath on her skin, “meet me upstairs in five minutes.” When she moved away from him, he immediately felt the ghost of her against his body. There was not a single man in Easy Company, despite how chivalrous they had always been to her, that would not shoot off a toe to be in his position. 

Five minutes was both five seconds and five lifetimes while he attempted to make his way naturally towards the doorway of the main room. Grateful for his tendency to disappear to a footlocker full of booze, he realized that it was not likely that many would notice his absence anyway. As he climbed the stairs, he wondered if there was going to be a moment where she would realize that it was him that she was taking to bed, not some other more decorated man from the Company. It was only when he missed a step at the top of the staircase that he reminded himself that wallowing could happen any other inebriated night of his life. Tonight, he steeled himself, he was going to get the girl. 

Two light knocks on Nina’s bedroom door with the back of his knuckles was as coy as he could play it. When she said “come in” from behind the oak barrier, he found the knot in his stomach clench. 

“Why do you look so pale, Nix?” Nina giggled. She was standing at the dresser in the bedroom, slowly unpinning her hair from its once meticulous place. As he watched each curl bounce free, he felt the heat in his neck and ears. The intimacy of watching a woman take down the trappings of pristine femininity to their natural state was something that had only occurred in his marital bedroom. Never before, never since.

He watched as she placed the pins in a trinket dish on the dresser, crossed the room in her bare feet, the line she drew in her stride slightly askew from the alcohol. He felt the effects the liquor had on himself as well, hopeful that it would not impede his performance--should he make it that far. 

Nixon watched as Nina’s tongue wet her lips, watched as they parted into a sweet smile. She reached up and gently touched the hair at his forehead, tucking it back to the side. His eyes studied her face as if he was going to be tested on the slope of her nose, the freckles on her cheeks, the slight gap between her two front teeth, the scar in her right eyebrow. 

“Kiss me,” she whispered. Her voice took on a tone he had never heard from her before. He had heard her scream, yell, cheer, and laugh, but the siren song he was hearing in that moment was something entirely new. As new as the flicker that darkened her eyes. 

The moment Nixon leaned down to close the space between them, it was if every inch of self doubt had been resolved. The way she hummed against his mouth let him know that she was just as hungry for him as he had been for her. He reached up and held her jaw softly, his other hand tracing her back and down over her hips. She flicked the softness of her tongue into his eager mouth and he felt a twitch grow into a throb in the confines of his uniform. Never in his life had he felt himself light ablaze under the simplest of touches. 

When Nina pulled back, she was breathless. Her swollen lips were parted, ghosts of red lipstick on both of their mouths. She gripped his shirt in a fist that loosened as she composed herself. 

“Lew…” She breathed, it was only the second time she had ever used his first name, the first time it had been shortened by her affection for him. 

“I can’t tell you how fucking long I’ve waited to do that,” his confession bubbled from his lips before he could tell her. Drunk on liquor or passion, he couldn’t tell where one stopped and the other began. 

“Well, if you can’t tell me,” she breathed, reaching up and starting to unbutton his shirt with delicate fingers. She looked up into his eyes and smiled coyly, “can you show me?” 

“Fuck,” he sighed as she ran her fingertips down over his chest, just the undershirt between them. “Absolutely.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss her deeply. 

They worked together to get his shirt over his shoulders and onto the floor. His undershirt was soon after. Every muscle that she had watched move beneath his uniform was exposed. Every single one she had considered in her idle time over the last three years were soon to be hers to touch. 

There was a beat between the two of them where he checked her eyes for any hesitation while his fingers gently toyed with the zipper at the back of her dress. She nodded, a small smile of appreciation at her lips. When he started to pull down the zipper, his fingertips traced over the exposed skin over her spine. Her skin erupted in goosebumps under his touch. She bit her lip and pulled her shoulders in as he worked to get the fabric down over her arms. With every piece of her that became more and more exposed, he felt his heart start to race. 

There was a part of her that worried about the amount of women he had undressed and how the curves of her body compared. Before the war, there had only been one other man to peel away both physical and emotional layers to her to connect so deeply. She wondered if the significance of the fire they were dancing dangerously close to meant just as much to him. One thing was certain, she decided, Lewis Nixon’s hands were the only hands she wanted on her body from this moment forward. 

When her dress hit the floor and she stood there, vulnerable, in front of him, Nixon felt something animalistic ignite in him. It took everything in him not to tear the remaining fabric from her body and cover every inch of her with his mouth. In attempts to avoid acting on this instinct, he met her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. He guided her backward toward the bed, her hands working deftly on the buckle of his belt. She groaned when her hand made contact with the anticipation growing in his pants. He sucked in a breath and bit playfully at her lower lip. He left a trail of eager kisses from her lips down over her jaw, feeling the giggle that resounded in her throat vibrating against his mouth. 

When his pants hit the floor, he felt the immediate relief from the confines of the fabric. She toyed with the elastic of his boxers, watching him shudder in response. He reached up and tangled his hands in her hair, pulling her close for another kiss to distract her. If she got too handsy, he may not make it to the main event. When he kicked himself out of the legs of his pants, he reached around and skillfully unclasped her bra. 

There was no sexy, coordinated way for Nina to get herself back onto the bed. As she crawled, Nixon admired her figure from behind, wondering what he had done in his lifetime to find himself this lucky. Unable to tally it, he shook away the thought and watched as she giggled, laying herself back on the pillows, her hair fanning out around her. Unconsciously, he adjusted the length in his boxers, pulled his socks from his feet, and followed her onto the bed. 

“God,” he let his eyes dance over her in appraisal. “You’re incredible.” 

Nina rolled her eyes, the heat in her cheeks was not foreign to her. Lewis Nixon had a way of making her flush pink that had been a noteworthy occurrence Easy had not let her forget. She often told them it was only his rank that made her nervous, not the man himself. But God, it was everything about him. 

“So,” he leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly, “god,” he kissed her cheek, “damned,” he kissed her neck, “beautiful.” She giggled when he pressed the kiss to her shoulder, his hands cupped both of her breasts. When his thumbs simultaneously brushed against her nipples, she whimpered softly, arching up into his palms. Her hand gently, toyed with his hair, running her fingers back through it as he leaned down and took her nipple into his mouth. Slowly circling his tongue in an effort to elicit more gorgeous new sounds from her parted lips. 

Nixon groaned as he worked his tongue, lips, teeth, and fingers over her exposed chest. At the same time, the placement of his body between her legs encouraged her hips to connect with his, calling forth a growl from his throat he had not anticipated. He was beginning to recognize the need he had for her was something wildly foreign and exciting to him. The fear that lingered in the back of his thoughts would have to be tended to in the moments following the plans he had to explore every inch of her body.

When he kissed down over her stomach, he started to feel her muscles tense in her abdomen under his lips. He looked up at her as he toyed with the waistband of her underwear, searching for permission. She bit her lip, eyebrows furrowed with concern. 

“What is it?” He asked, gently placing a hand on her thigh. He traced a delicate pattern on her skin. 

“I..” There was that pink in her cheeks he had often worked so hard for. He smiled gently and kissed her hip.

“You can talk to me,” he repositioned himself so that he was at eye level with her once more. 

“I’ve never had anyone…” She nodded down toward her underwear, where Nixon idly was toying with the satin bow at the elastic. “Use their mouth.” Nixon’s eyebrows raised and he grinned. He leaned down and he kissed her temple gently, his hand reaching up and fingering a strand of her hair. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to…”  He couldn’t help but let out a throaty laugh. He rolled on top of her, brushing his nose against hers, then his lips against hers. “You can’t make me do something I’ve spent half the damn war thinking about.” He captured her lips in an urgent kiss, his hand slithering down over her stomach and dipping confidently into her underwear. “Mmm,” he groaned, the moment his finger dipped into the heat between her legs. When she gasped, he caught it in a kiss, greedily swallowing every sound that he earned with the deft work of his fingers.

[teabights]

Band of Brothers Fics

I have been posting my band of brothers fics on AO3, so here are the links and more to come

Band of BabeRoe (One shots)

Smitten

Boyfriend Day

Long Time Comin’ (George Luz x OFC) (more chapters to come)

Chapter 1

Gott Lieb? (Lieb One Shots)

My Boy

In the End

Knight In Shining Armor

Taking Care of Me

Rainy Day

Histoires de Gingembre (Babe One Shots)

Chapter 1

Band of Brothers

Edgin' Easy Company (Tumblr Exclusive)

[wcters]

𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗘 (𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨)

pairing: joe liebgott x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k+

summary: four times you question what you two are and the one time you finally figure it out

warnings/notes: established relationships, angst (were dealing with war), kissing, pda, some drug use (cigarettes), alcohol, swearing, weapons, violence | no disrespect to the actual veterans or any of the situations described and written here, this is based on the series and the character of joe liebgott. somewhat ib @softguarnere (if you would like me to change it/take it down i will. it’s not really similar but still). if anyone has any tips for writing for band of brothers, please let me know! longest imagine written so far, and a dedication to my boys skip and penkala

You never knew home could be a person . . . until you joined the army and were surrounded by it, by many different people, and the one person you trusted most ━━ Joseph Liebgott. It was unexpected. To outsiders, they wouldn’t even think you two would speak ━━ let alone be friends. Yes, both of you are different in many ways, but you’re also the same in many ways. Skip Muck, one of your other close friends in Easy Company, joked that part of your souls were intertwined and you two would eventually fall in love. In the beginning, you would laugh it off. But you soon realized how true that was.

1. 1942, TOCCOA, GEORGIA

The army was ruthless. You knew that it would be when you joined Easy Company a couple months earlier, but you didn’t expect it to be this bad . . . only because of a certain officer named Sobel. You swear he had it out for all of you, and lots of the men hadn’t done anything bad ━━ that you knew of. Most of the time your weekend passes were revoked for little things such as some dirt on your gun and a stray string (that wasn’t actually there, you checked multiple times), but this weeked you and Joe were lucky to still have yours. You don’t even know how you both managed that, let alone him.

You two were walking hand in hand down the dimly lit street. You were quietly humming a song as you looked at the various stores as you made your way to one of the bars your group frequented. A few other army guys could be seen walking with each other or a local girl hanging on their arm. On any other night you would’ve looked like any other soldier in the soft lights, but you had switched out your uniform for a dress you had hidden in your barracks. You had thought ‘why not? It’ll probably be the last time I get a chance to wear it’ and threw it on with some heels you borrowed from a girl you knew in town with a promise to return them.

The quietness of the street got smaller and smaller as you made you got closer to the bar. “Crowded tonight, huh?” The man beside spoke out loud, swinging your clasped hands. “I think to us it does, but to them it doesn’t.” You joked while letting out a chuckle. Joe did too before grabbing the door of the bar and opening it for you. You mumbled a “thank you” while music filled your ears. “I’ll find us a seat, you get us drinks.” You told Joe as he nodded and you went to search for a booth.

It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, and soon enough you and Joe were chatting and laughing while couples danced around you. Joe looked around as you sipped your beer before he got up out of the booth and lent out a hand to you. “Would you like to dance?” He smiled. You laughed before looking around. “Why not?” You agreed and got up, making your way to the dance floor as a slow song began to play.

While leaned your head on his chest as you danced with couples around you, you couldn’t help but wonder what you two were.

2. 1943, BROOKLYN NAVAL SHIPYARD, NEW YORK

The heat of the boat taking you to England was suffocating with all of the soldiers packed in it, but Joe managed to have an arm around you waist while you two were playing cards with Muck and Bill. You were just an observer, butting out after the third game and got lost every one.

“Jesus Bill! You must be cheating!” Joe yelled as the brunette man placed another card down, Muck agreeing sourly. You laughed at that while stealing the cigarette out of Joe’s mouth and taking a hit. “You’re just sorry losers.” Bill laughed at their faces. “You don’t get to laugh y/n, you quit because you kept losing.” Skip pointed at you as he saw your face. “At least I accepted defeat, asshole.” You could feel the small laugh that came out of Joe’s chest and imagined the smirk that was on his face. “She got you there, Skip.”

They continued playing for a little while, you and Joe taking turns smoking until Bill won again and Skip slammed his cards down onto the cot. “Calm down.” You told him, soft smile on your face. “I am calm, it’s just Bill keeps winning and it’s fucking hot in here,” the man gestured to the people around you,” I don’t know how you two are that close. I swear I’m going to die of overheating and you two are practically cuddling.” You made a face to your friend while Joe laughed and made a comment that you couldn’t hear.

You and Joe were really close, you basically almost on his lap at this point, but you had a reason. The boat was packed, not being much room to move around. You didn’t want to climb up all the way onto your cot, and you wanted to keep talking with your friends. Plus, you and him had to be close ━━ you were sharing a cigarette. “We’re sharing a cigarette.” You shrugged, grabbing the object out of his mouth as he yelled a “hey” as you took it. Skip gave you a look as if to say “that’s bullshit” and got up, going to find Penkala. You looked over to Bill and he looked down at his cards, smirk on his face.

You had a reason to be that close . . . right? Or was it something different?

3. 1944, NORMANDY, FRANCE

The gravel crunched underneath your boots. You had just landed somewhere in Normandy ━━ you weren’t sure, you had missed your DZ ━━ and were now on the lookout to hopefully find Easy Company and not some German looking to end your life. That’s why you had you gun aimed into the distance. Every little breeze that shook the branches had yoy freezing up and darting you eyes, only to figure out it was the wind or some rabbit that looked as scared as you. It made you feel a little less alone.

When another bush shook, this time a little longer than usual, you crouched instead of just freezing up, gun still trained to where the sound was coming from. You waited before slowly moving forward, trying to minimize the sound of the road beneath you. You saw the bottom of a pair of boots and it seemed you were both waiting for the other to speak first. That decision was chosen for you.

“Flash.” “Thunder.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you heard that and then saw the multiple pairs of boots. “Y/n?” Someone called out within the group. You squinted trying to see who it was. “Bill!” You exclaimed in surprise before recognizing the few other people with him: Marlarkey, Wynn, Toye, Lipton, some people from the 82nd Airborne, and Hall, a man not from your company but you recognized him from Able Company. You quietly said your greetings before continuing on your way to try and find your rallying point.

After finding and following a set a train tracks, a situation happened where Bill shot before Winter’s Command, you reprimanding him again and jokingly pushing his head as he called you a “stupid mick” which you laughed at. Now the group was on the road to the rallying point. The whole time you had been thinking about Joe. God, you wished he was still alive. You didn’t know what you were going to do if he wasn’t. When you eventually got to the farm, you heard a familiar voice. You stopped as you saw each other before you began to run and give him a hug.

You could hear the mumblings of the other soldiers, but at that moment, you didn’t care. When you pulled away you grabbed his face. “Joeseph Liebgott, I would’ve killed you if you died.” You laughed with tears in your eyes as you checked him for and scratches and scars. “I wouldn’t dream of it doll.” He laughed too before pulling you back in.

You decided at that moment in time that it didn’t care what you two were, as long as you had him, you didn’t care. As long as you knew he was okay.

4. 1944, ARDENNES FOREST, BELGIUM

All you could see was white: the sky, the ground, even the trees that surrounded you, that partly acted as a wall. You were sick of it. You think you would feel this way for the rest of your life ━━ the look and feel of the freezing chill of the snow and forest. Maybe you would move to somewhere warmer, somewhere where it doesn’t snow and the lowest it would get would be 59 degrees Fahrenheit.

Imagining what you would do in the future always helped you get somewhat through the hard times, though a person was the one thing that was a blanket to you. He had told you he left to talk to Lipton, but he hadn’t been back for awhile.

As if the world hated you having a small moment of what little peace you could have, a light broke through the white sky. A yell of “incoming!” from someone near you, either Skip or Penkala, caused you to sink further into your foxhole, well what you could, and cover your ears as the bombing started. When you heard yelling with words like “c’mon!” and “hurry!” you looked up to see Skip and Penkala yelling out to Luz who was out in the open. “Luz!” You yelled to him, “get over here! It’s closer!” He followed your voice and jumped in, but as soon as you both turned around you saw Skip and Penkala get hit with a shell. You knew they didn’t make it.

It was over as soon as it happened, but you were so distracted with what had happened that you didn’t feel the burning on your side until George had asked you if you were okay. You groaned when you first felt the searing pain and lifted up your coat to see the blood soaking it. “Oh, shit. Medic!” You had been with a piece of flying shrapnel from the shell that hit the two. You didn’t have time to register how one of your best friends were killed before Doc Roe was at your side with Luz holding you so you wouldn’t move too much. “Christ, y/n.” Gene mumbled as he got a look at it before grabbing a bandage and wrapping it the best he could.

You were frozen now ━━ not from the cold, or the wound on your side that would cause you to get taken off, you were frozen with the realization of what just happened. You wanted to cry, scream, do anything, but you just . . . couldn’t. Everything around you was fuzzy and you didn’t register that the shelling stopped and you were being taken out until you saw Joe. Then, tears managed to fall and you started to sob. He was mumbling about how you were going to be okay and everything was fine as he followed you to the Jeep.

When you felt the rumble of the Jeep engine, you grabbed Joe’s hand as tight as you could. “I love you, you shithead.” You laughed as you told him. You didn’t know whether you would see him again, and you wanted him to know how you truly felt about him, and how much he ment to you. He froze for a second before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too. I’ll kill you if you die.”

You laughed one more time as the image of him started to get smaller and smaller as he let go of your hand, slapped the Jeep, and it started to move. You tried to memorize what you could see: his shadow, the way he stands . . . him. You closed your eyes and felt a tear make its way down your face, settling in with the other dry ones.

+1. 1945, BAVARIA, AUSTRIA

The almost-healed wound on your side was a reminder of what you’ve been through, and what you’d missed. You’d been stuck in the hospital since mid December. You attempted to go AWOL multiple times, but you had failed every time.

Your shrapnel scar had ended being worse than Doc Roe thought and you had to be transported to surgery. When you woke up and heard what happened, you immediately wanted to go back and find your company . . . and Joe. You knew you left on a weird note, and wanted to figure it out. That was looming on your mind, along with the grief you finally had time to face. Not really face, more like confront. It was one of the only things you thought about while in there. You hadn’t fully come to terms with it, but you had made some progress.

You had thought about how George was doing, and especially Malarkey. He was Skip and Penkala’s best friend ━━ you were a close second. Bastogne was a horrible place in itself, but having to deal with that while there, to you, was a death wish. You were worried for everyone, the people you left behind.

You had just gotten to Bavaria when you saw Colonel Sink, and he saw you. As one of the very few women in the army, you could say he had a soft spot for you (though you would never say it to his face). You had been told a very uninformative idea of where the airborne was located, but you had been wandering since you got dropped off.

“Sergeant y/n, is that you?” Sink had called out to you as the car stopped. You saluted before you replied with a “yes sir.” “You lookin’ for Easy soldier?” You answered with a yes and conversed for a little bit ━━ mostly about your time in the hospital and what you missed ━━ before he invited you into the Jeep to get a ride up the mountain that looked over you.

That’s where you were know as you made your way up the hill, the familiar rumble of the Jeep underneath you. You couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement and happiness in your stomach as you got closer. You soon heard voices over the engine and on the horizon silhouettes appeared. When the car stopped, you gave a quick thank you, saluted, and made your way to where some of Easy was sitting.

“Having fun without me?” You asked out loud as people turned to you. There were calls of excitement as they saw you and people made their way to greet you, but one of the faces you were looking for was Joe. You eventually saw him getting up from sitting in front of a wheel and you both made eye contact before people split and let there be a clear path to him. You didn’t have to say anything to let him know you were running towards him before jumping on him and giving him a hug. He held you right, as if you were going to leave again, and spinned you around as you both laughed.

He was still holding you, arms around your waist, but had let your feet touch the floor. “Hi.” You smiled. “Hey doll.” Those were the only things said before you lips crashed together and there were cheers from your friends around you. When you parted, your foreheads fell against each other. “I was so worried, I was afraid you weren’t going to come back.” He admitted. “You can’t get rid of me that easy Joe.” You joked before kissing him quickly again and then went on a mission to find Malarkey.

He was leaning against the side of a car, cigarette in his hand. You gave him a tight hug, saying everything you needed to but couldn’t, before parting. You sat and talked while Joe kept a close eye on you.

“Skip was right, y’know.” Malarkey said as he let out some smoke. “What do you mean?” You asked, looking at everyone and the view. “About you and Joe. How your souls are intertwined. I always laughed at it but seeing you two now, he was right.” You blushed and looked down before your eyes met Joe’s and he winked at you.

“I guess so. But hey, never doubt Skip. He always said that. Guess this is a nice payback.” “Guess so.”

You never thought a person could be home, but as you walk in front of the fireplace, your baby girl in your arms, you realize that it could be ━━ that it is. And you are ever so thankful you figured out what you two were.

[emilee1421]

Nixon accompanies Winters on a much needed 48 hour pass to Paris…

The concierge flipped nervously through the ledger, glancing up every so often at the two uniformed men at the front desk.

Nix shifted his bag on his shoulder, one dark eyebrow quirked impatiently. He watched Winters as he leaned against the polished wood of the front desk. There were smudges under his eyes, dark and bruise-like, and a slight curve had settled in his shoulders. The past few weeks had been hard for all the men, but they had been especially hard for Winters. He hated handing Easy over to another C.O. and it showed in the creases that now permanently resided between his brows.

“It seems I only have one room available tonight.” The concierge finally said.

“We’ll take it.” Nix cut him off, anxious to get them both out of the crowded lobby before Winters could change his mind about being here. Winters was less than thrilled about the 48 hour pass but the brass had decided a break was necessary for their dedicated Captain. Nix had finally talked him into it and decided to come along to make sure Winters did more than pace and brood for two days.

The concierge pulled the key from a rack behind him. “Third floor, Room 316.”

The elevator doors slid open and Winters followed Nix down the hall until they finally reached the door marked with the gold numbers ‘316’. He opened the heavy door and flipped on the lights, the golden glow of the lamp illuminated the well appointed room and the large bed that took the center of the room.

The only bed.

“I can go back downstairs and see if -”

“We’ll make it work.” Winters sighed tiredly, shouldering past Nix. He dropped his bag onto the luggage rack in the corner of the room then headed to the bathroom. “I’m going to take advantage of some hot water.” he called over his shoulder before pushing the door closed behind him.

Nix poured himself a few fingers of scotch from the decanter on the sideboard before dropping himself down onto the bed, relaxing into the plush duvet and sinking into what must have been the softest mattress he’d ever felt. Though he supposed anything would feel luxurious after countless nights spent in foxholes and the occasional stiff cot. He sipped his scotch, savoring burn as the sound of running water in the bathroom lulled him to sleep.

The rocking motion of the bed jolted him awake. Winters on the other side, dressed in his uniform pants and undershirt, a white towel draped over his shoulders absorbing the drips from his hair. He grabbed several pillows from the bed, piling them onto an arm of the chaise by the window.

“What are you doing?” Nix asked, sitting up and setting his glass aside.

“You can have the bed.” Winters said over his shoulder, pulling a spare blanket from the linen closet and tossing it onto the chaise.

“Dick. Dick c’mon” he caught Winters by his elbow, turning him around to face him.

“You’re here to relax and get some rest” Nix emphasized, leading Winters over to the bed and pushing him down gently by the shoulders. “And that's exactly what you’re gonna do,” he added.

Winters huffed in exasperation, scrubbing a hand over his face before resting his forehead in his palms.

Nix gathered the pillows from the chaise and tossed them onto the bed. Winters, resigned to his fate, settled under the covers and turned away from Nix before flicking off the lamp.

He was pulled from sleep once again by the bed shifting beneath him. He heard Winters roll over, tugging at the sheets and fluffing his pillows. Not even five minutes later the mattress shook again as he rolled to the other side.

“Would you cut it out?!” Nix huffed, flipping over to face winters who was in the process of fluffing his pillow yet again.

Winters scrubbed his hands over his face, sitting up against the headboard “can't sleep” he groaned.

“Yea, that makes two of us now”, nix grumbled back.

“You’re the one who insisted I sleep here.”

The back of Winters’ head thudded against the headboard in frustration and the crease between his brow deepened even as his eyes remained closed. In the moonlight that filtered in through the curtains, Nix could still make out the tense lines around his mouth and the hollows under his eyes. He looked positively exhausted. Smaller somehow. Like the stress of the past few months had eroded his very being. It made Nix’s chest clench with an aching pain behind his ribs.

Nix sat up too, resting against the headboard bedside Winters. The warm brush of their thighs searing him to his core. He’d spent countless nights in close quarters with Winters, bombed out farmhouses and foxholes, sharing body heat under the guise of necessity. But this felt entirely different. Intimate in a way that took his breath out of his lungs and stoked the ember of desire within him.

With two fingers, he tipped Winters’ chin toward him and met that perfect crystalline blue gaze. He moved cautiously slow, always feeling out that ever shifting boundaries between them.

“Let me help you.” He whispered as his thumb grazed the freshly shaved skin of Winters’ jaw. The soft little exhale the touch elicited sent a frisson of heat down Nix’s spine.

He turned in bed toward the other man, cupping Winters’ face in both his hands. And with as much restraint as he could manage, kissed him gently.

Winters tensed at the first brush of his lips but before Nix could pull away, he went slack in his hold. Winters leaned into the kiss, parting his lips, granting permission as Nix’s hands drifted down to his shoulders. Winter’s body uncoiled slowly, relaxing and melting into him as he sucked at his bottom lip and tugged at the hem of his undershirt.

He lifted his arms for Nix to pull the shirt over his head. The smooth pale pains of his chest and arms were etched marble in the silver light and the auburn hair formed a dark path between his pectoral muscles, down his toned abdomen and below where the sheets pooled at his waist.

Nix pressed gentle, nipping kisses to the exposed curve of Winters’ throat as his hand slid down Winters’ chest and abdomen; the taught muscles dancing under his fingers. He paused when he reached the waistband of his boxers, holding his own breath as he cupped the unmistakable bulge that was forming between Winters’ legs.

He squeezed the hardening length, palming the growing outline through the thin material and watching Winters’ face for any sign of discomfort; thanking every known deity when he saw only the tortured throes of desire.

“Is this ok?” Nix asked, voice strained.

Winters nodded, eyes shut tight as he tried to bite back another moan.

Nix pulled his boxer shorts down in one smooth tug, leaving Winters fully bare, all alabaster skin and hewn muscle against the soft sheets. His now fully erect member laid thick and proud against his stomach, the tip blushing a deep scarlet and already leaking pearls of precum. Nix trailed a finger down the prominent vein on the underside, completely enraptured as he watched Winters’ abs ripple at the light, teasing touch.

He glanced back up to Winters’ face. His jaw was tight and he watched Nix back with unmatched intensity; the same way he watched the line late at night. But the shallow, panting breaths and the unmistakable glossiness in those blue eyes left no question in Nix’s mind.

He gripped Winters with a firm, sure hand and gave a few languid strokes, swiping a thumb over the weeping head and working the wetness down his shaft.

Nix continued to watch his face as he worked him toward the edge. He was beautifully flushed; eyes shut tight and mouth slightly open in a silent moan of pleasure. He was perfect.

”That’s it, Dick, let go for me. I’ve got you.” Nix purred in his ear, tightening his grip and working him faster.

Winters nodded, releasing a shuddered breath. He was always the one in control, the one who the men looked to for direction; he held their lives in his hands every day. but in this moment he was all too willing to cede control completely to Nix. It wasn’t weakness or wanton carelessness, but rather a show of absolute trust.

Winters’ breath came in ragged pants as he leaned into Nix’s touch, relaxing his thighs wider to give Nix a better angle and submitting completely to the pleasure.

The sight alone had Nix on the edge himself, his own cock was stiff and throbbing but he focused all his attention on Winters. This was all about him, his pleasure, and his finally letting go of the tension that had been building between them.

He sped up his strokes, twisting his palm over the tip each time and watching closely as Winters’ abs jumped and his thighs trembled as he teetered on the edge. He groaned and a blissed out sob broke from his chest, body shaking violently as he coated Nix’s hand and his own abs with his release.

Winters fell back against the pillows, panting and boneless in the afterglow of bliss.

Nix reached over the side of the bed, grabbing his undershirt from the floor. He gently cleaned the pearly streaks from Winters’ skin.

Winters’ head lolled on his pillow, looking up at Nix with glossy eyes, a deeply satisfied grin spreading over his face as he traced his finger tips down Nix’s chest.

A similar grin pulled at Nix’s lips as he felt the fingers slide down to the band of his boxers.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

[noneedtoamputate]

Hellooo! Could I request #3. Gold and/or #19. Honouring for a pairing of your choice for the November prompts please? Thank you! <3

Thanks so much for the ask! This prompt help me get out of my writing funk, so I hope you like it. It's mostly number three, but I snuck in number nineteen, too.

Chuck straddled that state where he could go back to sleep for another hour or force himself to stretch and start the day. 

Still debating which option to take, he noticed the room smelled unfamiliar. The bedspread felt different, too.

The awake part of his brain asked questions. The asleep part mumbled one-word answers.

Why does the bed feel different? 

Hotel.

Why am I in a hotel?

Wedding.

Why is there a ring on my finger?

Married.

He sat up quickly and saw his tux and her blue negligee scattered on the floor. He remembered City Hall, and the courtroom, and Ellen walking down the short aisle in a white dress, carrying a bouquet of tulips, looking so beautiful he had to take a deep breath to stop the tears that welled up in his eyes. He remembered her putting the ring on his finger, as she promised to love and honor him all the days of her life. 

He looked to his right. His wife had escaped his spoon sometime during the night, her bare back just peeking out from the cover. 

His wife.

He wanted to wake her up, wrap his arms around her, and start where they left off the night before, but they had the rest of the day for that, didn’t they?

They had the rest of their lives.

Instead, he let her sleep, and he twirled the band with his right thumb and pointer finger. 

He remembered asking her about the rings - plural, with an s - and her face turned up with a shy, surprised smile. 

“You’re going to wear a ring?” she asked. 

More and more guys wore rings nowadays, but it wasn’t at all assumed. Ellen clearly hadn’t assumed it, given her reaction.

He nodded. “Doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one who gets gold out of this whole thing,” he said sarcastically, then looked at her, serious this time.

“And I love you.”

That was the main reason he wanted to wear a ring, that he loved her. But there was another reason, too, a reason so personal that he didn’t feel he could share it with Ellen, the person he trusted more than anyone.

Through time and hard work, his injuries improved. He speech, although slow, wasn’t halting like it had been even a few years ago. He learned what triggered his migraines, so he didn’t have them as often. Pain medication helped, and he worked with his doctor on the correct dosage. 

But his left hand never improved. The countless hours at the occupation therapist and the physical therapist and doing exercises at home didn’t make a difference. 

His hand look completely normal. Unless someone knew or looked very closely at how it hung slightly strange, no one would guess it was paralyzed. Even last night, the bellhop gave him a look when he carried in his suitcase and Ellen held her own. 

Making the lady carry her own bag, his smirk seemed to shout at Chuck. 

He’d stare at his hand, willing it to do what he wanted. The anger, even hate, he had for it was strong. At times, he thought it would have been better if it had been blown off or amputated. It would be gone, not mocking him. No one would expect him to use this useless appendage. Then he would think of Toye or Bill or the other poor bastards who had actually lost limbs and feel like an asshole for his bout of self-pity. But he didn’t know how or if he would ever get over it.

After the engagement, he noticed the men wearing rings. For the first time in six years, he looked at his left hand was glad it was still there, glad it could still do one thing he wanted it to do.

His left hand wasn’t useless now, even if he couldn’t grab or hold. It had a purpose. Look, I’m Ellen Grant’s husband. She could have her pick of anyone, and she chose me. 

He felt her roll over to his side of the bed. 

“Good morning. How’s my wife?” he asked.

“Exhausted, in a good way,” she said, sleepily. “And hungry, in a bad way. Can we go downstairs and get breakfast?”

He straddled her and shook his head. “Room service,” he answered.

He called in the order. Steak and eggs, French toast, a carafe of coffee, and a pot of tea. 

“You have thirty minutes,” she said, challenging him, kissing his neck and raking her nails down his chest.

Chuck wouldn’t tell her today - there were other things to do, in this room with the enormous bed, in this hotel where people made and delivered food when asked. But one day, when they were driving to the grocery store or sitting on a porch swing, he would tell the woman he loved the other reason why he wanted to wear a wedding ring. 

After all, they had the rest of their lives.

[pookielious]

How do you guys like end a fic ??😭😭 like I can't ever seem to do a good ending I swear like that's the only thing stopping me as of now for dropping more fics

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

slight au where team russia worked a little faster and eddie and max make it out scathed but alive, unlike vecna who finally got his comeuppance

eddie and steve have an unnamed thing in the months after eddie gets out of the hospital but without an earthquake wrecking hawkins, eyes are everywhere and rumours are hard to kill in a small town and eddie's sick of the way they're all being treated. he thinks it's all because of him, thinks it'll fix everything if he's not around, thinks steve deserves to find his wife and have his nuggets.

so eddie runs away in the middle of the night, just leaves a note for wayne with a promise to call and hitchhikes to cali with his guitar and not much more than the clothes on his back. he works hard and makes it big with his band, they win awards, sell out arenas, front magazine covers but eddie just takes it day by day. time passes without him really recognising its passing, just going from one gig to the next. another town, another state, another country. they've travelled the whole world by now and although his bandmates make a big deal out of birthday's, another trip around the sun eddie! whenever he thinks of home, everything and everyone are just as he left them.

it's the late nineties, eddie and wayne sitting on opposite ends of a phone line having their monthly catch-up when wayne casually mentions that he's going to a divorce party on the weekend. eddie laughs cos parties aren't exactly wayne's scene to start with, but eddie misses small town drama so he asks who at the plant got divorced? and wtf is a divorce party anyway?

and wayne knows he's fumbled the ball in a big way but all he can do at this point is just explain and eddie's sorry but... what?!

steve's getting a divorce! eddie's steve? eddie didn't even know he'd got married! he knows The Party are still close and that when eddie had been dragged into their weird little group, wayne had too. he knows that they keep a good eye on wayne, that he's still one of them.

and wayne was true to his word with not updating eddie on their lives because he knows if he'd heard any of it he'd've come running home immediately but wayne's getting on in years and this little bit of info just sort've slipped out.

so now, guess what? eddie's booking himself a flight because how can he miss this now that he knows it's happening?

so steve's getting drunk surrounded by all the people who love him. he and tina ended things amicably enough, she fell in love with robin and what was steve supposed to do? he could hardly blame her! tina and robin despised each other, had from the moment steve introduced them but robin was going through some work stuff and she'd needed a break. so steve had twisted her arm and she'd come to stay for a month and well, shit happens! they hadn't crossed any boundaries, robin wouldn't ever do that to him but the mother of your kids being in love with your best friend kinda puts the kibosh on your marriage.

it was dustin's idea, the party, he thinks steve needs cheering up, which he probably does because he'd had everything he'd always dreamed of and now his life's in a shambles for the second time even though he's only in his early thirties. except eddie, blast from the past, love of steve's life, took steve two solid years to get over him, steve's eddie, showing up unannounced (because gatecrashing is just eddie's way of not having to deal with all the nerves he's been feeling since he stepped into lax) kills the party.

everyone's furious! steve's drunk, thinks eddie's an hallucination but dustin takes a swing at eddie, which is sobering to say the least. hop's yelling, wants to drag eddie outside "i just wanna talk, i swear!" luckily for eddie, joyce and murray know him better than that. max is ripping him to shreds, erica's hyping her up and no-one is brave or stupid enough to get in their way.

and eddie's only just now registering that it might've been a terrible idea to just drop in on people you trauma bonded with and then abandoned over a decade ago and wayne's trying to gauge whether he needs to get his nephew the hell outta there or whether it's best to just let it play out and steve might be hammered and in a state of shock and eddie might deserve everything max is saying but he just can't stand there and let it happen.

so steve grabs eddie by the wrist and drags him outside and no-one follows because they all think it's fair that steve gets first crack at him. except steve isn't all that angry, he might be tomorrow, but right now he just tugs eddie into his chest and wraps himself tightly around him.

there's a thousand questions they both want to ask, things they definitely should be talking about but eddie just melts in the circle of steve's arms. he's forgotten why he ever left this space, where he can feel steve's heartbeat and smell the cologne that he still wears and that underlying something that's just steve. then steve squeezes him tighter and sighs so heavily it seems the whole world is on his shoulders and all eddie wants to do is drop everything and help him carry it.

"wayne let slip, huh?" steve says instead of something normal like hello.

"he didn't mean to," eddie defends even though he knows he doesn't need to. he'd seen the hug they’d shared before he'd waltzed in, even though they're all older than eddie thought possible, nothing about The Party has changed.

"sorry about your party," eddie mutters. he does feel bad for ruining their good time, he doesn't know now why he thought he could just pick up where he left off. steve just shrugs, huffs a laugh into eddie's hair

"you're a much better surprise than the strippers they’d booked for me anyway," steve admits. and eddie can't help himself he starts to laugh, it starts off with jiggling shoulders and escalates until there's tears running freely down his face. it wasn't even that funny, the absurdity of this situation isn't even that funny, it's all just... it's a lot.

"jesus h christ! i've missed you," eddie says when he's calmed down enough to speak.

"i missed you, too," steve confesses with such a raw honesty it gives eddie pause, makes him pull his head away from steve just enough to see his face.

"really?" eddie's a little awestruck but he tries to keep his voice level, he fails miserably.

"yes, really! what you thought you'd disappear and we'd all just, what? forget about you?" steve scoffs, looks into eddie's eyes, really looks and then rolls his own "oh my god! you did, didn't you? you're unbelievable, eddie munson! why'd you think the kids are so mad with you?" steve asks remarkably calm. must be a dad thing, eddie thinks because the lump in his throat prevents him from speaking, he can only shrug, "because they love you, you idiot! and you abandoned them but they still love you. dustin waited for two hours outside your indy concert before realising he was waiting outside the wrong door and that you'd already gone. poor kid was a mess for a week!" steve sighs heavily, cups eddie's face, wipes away the fresh tears falling down eddie's cheeks with his thumbs.

"you're not mad," eddie croaks almost accusatory, misery filling him because the one person he wants to love him, the one person he's never stopped loving, is holding him, yes, but thinking about it eddie would've been happier with the fury dustin had shown him because dustin's mad because he loves eddie but steve isn't mad at all.

steve smiles, tired and a little soppy, kisses eddie on the forehead and pulls him back against his chest.

"not yet, but i've no doubt in the morning i'm gonna be livid. you better still be here to see it!" and it's the first time there's been anything warning in steve's tone, it makes eddie hold him tighter.

"i'll be here," he promises. eddie's tucked so closely into steve's chest he doesn't hear his uncle approach, doesn't see the smile he and steve share over eddie's head. wayne knew eddie was safe out here with steve but The Party's getting antsy.

"time to face the music, boy," wayne can't fight his grin when eddie turns in steve's hold, like he used to when they were young and eager to head to bed and wayne would say "those dishes won't wash themselves" and eddie would huff and fuss from the confines of steve's embrace, being dramatic for the sake of it. other than a change in hairstyle and a few new lines on their faces, wayne doesn't see any difference.

eddie grins when he realises that steve is equally reluctant to let go, propping his head on eddie's shoulder and holding him close, they both make puppy dog eyes at wayne, except wayne isn't about to cave like he would with the dishes. his friends are furious but they love him and they're worried that steve's murdered eddie already.

except wayne knows there's no safer place for his boy to be. steve's spent many a night in wayne's trailer, reading through articles, watching award ceremonies, listening to the albums eddie sent to wayne. sleeping in eddie's old bed, both when eddie first left and even more so recently, not that either of them have mentioned that to the others. it's a secret exclusively for the two people in the world who love eddie munson the most.

wayne gives eddie a pointed look and eddie sighs, nods to himself, he can do this. these people love him deep down, even if they don't like him very much right now.

"ready, big boy," eddie teases waggling his eyebrows at steve, who laughs and calls him an idiot affectionately. eddie classes it as a win. steve gives him one last squeeze, reluctantly letting go as the three of them head back inside but steve's hand never quite leaving the small of eddie's back (even when dustin tearfully tackles eddie into a bearhug) might be the best thing he ever could've hoped for.

and eddie thinks that maybe, just this once, his inability to fight his impulse control might've finally worked in his favour.

[roadtogracelandx45]

Coming the Week of July 7th.

Since I decided I need a week or so to get myself together and just write without worrying about updating I am going to start posting the week of the 7th.

Part 3 (maybe 4) of Currahee - Courage Under Fire- Band of Brothers

Part 2 of Unexpected- Webgott x Olivia Stewart- Band of Brothers

Part 1 of Fearless- Bucky Egan x OFC- Masters of The Air (masterlist and synopsis coming soon)

Part 2 of 10 Days- Band of Brothers x Masters of the Air crossover

Part 1 of Someone To Love- Steve Rogers x Stark OFC- Avengers (masterlist and synopsis coming soon)

Part 2 of Baby, I Do- Elvis x Sylvie- Elvis (Biopic 2022)

Part 2 of Among Angels- Rooster x Kazansky OFC x Hangman- Top Gun Maverick

Part 1 of Darkest Before The Dawn (rewrite)- Dean Winchester x OFC- Supernatural

Part 2 of Royal- Fred Weasley x OFC x George Weasley- Harry Potter

[fandom-friday]

Hiya :)

My submission this week is a fic in the Band of Brothers fandom, which is my latest obsession ^^

It's called somebody’s made to face the changes, somebody’s built to last by Michaud/ @vivathewilddog (if they're still that on Tumblr 🤔) and it's a Bill Guarnere/Babe Heffron friends to lovers fic that is very sweet and imo really well characterized^^

It's nsfw and also a gem for a niche pairing^^

I may not know much about Band of Brothers, but I do know I love a good rare pair every now and then. And friends to lovers? YES. INJECT IT STRAIGHT INTO MY VEINS. The summary is so cute and floofy and I LIVE FOR IT! Thanks so much for sending this in!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[hanniewinnix]

DISCUSSION FOR UNFINISHED FICS

Thoughts? Bcs I suck at it everytime I finished a chapter and looked at the time it was updated, then I would just sob when I saw

[captain-joongz]

summer recap/favourite fics/fic recommendations for the first half of 2024!

Pretty flushed by @holybibly

♡ 2 parts, wolf!hwa x rabbit!reader x wolf!joong, a/b/o, smut smut smut, a little dark

Industry baby by @kitten4sannie

♡ mingi x reader x joong, rock band au, cuckold play, bf!mingi and bandmate!joong

Arriba! + Freak! by @teeskzagain

♡ f!reader x joong, yunho, san, woo and mingi, college au, a lot of smut, sex under the influence, ateez are absolute pervs, "the boardgame made us do it"

7 minutes of compensation by @k-hotchoisan

♡ hwa x f!reader x yunho, frat!teez, threesome

in the wings by @sanjoongie

♡ rapppers hwa and joong x f!reader, backstage pass, smut, double penetration, groupie au

Case: It's you by @potatomountain

♡ ot8 x f!reader, e2l, police au, workplace romance, investigative and horny ;)

Inception by @remedyx

♡ a repeat from the last list, but it's sooo good, go check it out!!

The happiest girl in the world by @holybibly

♡ camboy!hwa x f!reader, private call, smut, streamer x fan au

February filth fest 2024 day 13: Uniform by @sanjoongie

♡ new captain!hwa x former captain!reader, mutiny au, scifi, mean dom hwa, humiliation and degradation

February filth fest 2024 day 21: aphrodisiacs/overstim by @sanjoongie

♡ alien!joong x human!reader, alien poison as an aphrodisiac, oviposition

Ugh, as if by @ennysbookstore + Ugh, as if - bonus

♡ punk!joong x f!reader, joong works with leather, cute and hot, joong helps reader overcome insomnia with some good old-fashioned orgasms

Look after you by @mingigoo

♡ musician!joong x nurse!reader, a little angsty, but with a sweet ending, smut

Plug & Play by @bangtanintotheroom

♡ guitarist!joong x f!reader, rock band au, s2l, backstage sex, reader is horny and hongjoong is hot

this ask by @nateezfics

♡ sex with angry joong, bratty reader

Honey and blood by @nateezfics

♡ vampire!joong x maid!reader, dark but sweet, smut with feels

10:11 : féconder by @yeosgoa

♡ assistant!joong x witch!reader, academia au, accidental aphrodisiacs, desperate joong under the influence of a sex potion

cross my heart by @doitforbangchan

♡ brother's best friend!joong x f!reader, dark, yandere joong, he's very manipulative, dubcon/noncon, sex under the influence

February filth fest 2024 day 4: public sex by @sanjoongie

♡ cowboy!san x wise woman!reader, wild west au, san is injured, san is head over heels for reader, save a horse ride a cowboy ;)

no hesitation by @daemour

♡ fratboy!san x f!reader, bff2l, college party au, misunderstandings, fools in love, smut

February filth fest 2024 day 23: breeding kink by @sanjoongie

♡ kitty hybrid!woo x f!reader, rut sex, cumplay, bratty woo

deliver us from evil by @holybibly

♡ priest!woo (or is he???) x f!reader, hierophilia, sacrilege, church sex, very dark, rough sex and humiliation

IT's You by @shinestarhwaa

♡ debate team au, college au, e2l, mean woo, rough sex

Right here by @0097linersb

♡ bff!woo x f!reader, pervy woo who wants to fuck his bff, very sexually frustrated reader

My library | BTS fic recs

[indigo-graves]

Warmth | Eugene Roe

When the curtains were no longer able to block out the sun, there was a shift beside Roe, which caused him to stir. There was a moment where he found himself struggling to orient himself to the room. It had been all too easy to forget he was in a bedroom, under warm linens, and not in the snow-dusted forest of Bastogne. A warmth he never would quite be able to replicate radiated from beside him, something he had an even harder time orienting himself to. Even more recent than their arrival at the Eagle’s Nest, was the bedfellow he had found once they got there. 

Gene turned, inhaling her scent. The soap had found in that bathroom was lovely, of course, but he found himself dizzy with desire when he leaned closer, his head tilted to inhale the spot where her hair lingered on her neck. He took a deep breath in, taking in the soft, sweet natural scent, the depth of the warmth that grew in his belly was new. Would he ever get used to being this close? The smokey bite from the fireplace that lingered in her hair felt familiar. He had recalled it from close, accidental brushes when he worked beside her on the battlefield. 

She stirred again, humming as she readjusted herself into the pillow, the mattress, into him. He felt a hum of appreciation rumble deep in his chest. He pressed his lips gently to the back of her shoulder, taking his time to feel the warmth of her skin. Wordlessly, she reached over, taking his hand in hers. He grinned against her skin when she held his hand in hers, lining the length of her fingers up with his. Their two hands became one shadow, blocking the direct light of the sun shining in on the pair. She tipped her fingers between his and pulled it down across her body. His fingers still flexed, hers gripping at his hand, she brought each of the tips of his fingers to her mouth. A kiss was placed on the pad of each finger slowly. Taking her time to recall memories of watching them work tirelessly to keep the Company alive. 

Roe chuckled, the muscles in his cheeks ached from smiling. She felt it against her skin, thanking God for the smile. Few and far between had he shared it with her as they navigated their way across Europe, attempting to keep the Easy Company in one piece. Since finding a place away from mortar rounds and gunfire, both seemed to share those far more freely. And they were not the only two that noticed. 

“Do you think they’ll notice if we both come down to get something to eat at the same time?” She whispered against the back of his hand as she kissed it. He chuckled and moved closer. 

“I don’t think so,” He responded, kissing the back of her neck in kind. “But again, mon cher, it’s not me who is worried about getting caught.” 

She rolled her eyes. She was certainly not going to have this argument on an empty stomach. It had nothing to do with him, of course. Any woman would have tripped over themselves to have a chance to be so adored by a man like Eugene Roe. But it was not something she wanted to be decided until they knew whether or not they would be sent to the Pacific. 

“Gene,” she sighed, turning to face him. He had spent 28 days across from her in Bastogne. They had locked eyes hundreds, if not thousands of times. But each time she focused those large blue eyes on his, he felt a tension in his stomach that no woman had ever caused before. 

“I know,” he nodded. He felt goosebumps raise on his skin as her hand rested on his chest. A soft smile played at his lips in contrast to the pout that had pulled at hers. He kissed her forehead softly, inhaling deeply at the crown of her head. “You stay here. I’ll go get you something to eat.” 

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, “you go down first. Get yourself something. I’ve got to wash up first anyhow.” 

Eugene nodded. He brushed his lips over hers in a whisper of a movement. He swallowed his words. She smiled, pressed a more forceful kiss to his mouth, and rolled out of bed. Again, he thought, he would never be able to replicate that warmth anywhere else in the world. 

[rafeskiss]

imgonnagetyouback ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: matt sturniolo x popstar! reader

word count: 2.1k (holy shit)

summary: you are a world renowned popstar, and after a very public breakup with youtuber matt sturniolo, he can’t bare to watch you look hot on stage and know you’re no longer his. he’s determined to get you back.

warnings: smut obvi, p in v, fingering, swearing, use of ‘y/n’, nicknames (baby), overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be fucking stupid), matt calling reader ‘slutty’, probably more i can’t think of

authors note: I HAVE RETURNED!! i have come back from like a two month long hiatus (HIATUS??? DONT USE BIG WORDS MATTTT) to bring you guys the much requested imgonnagetyouback inspired fic featuring popstar! reader! in my mind i see popstar! reader as sabrina carpenter/madison beer type, not necessarily looks wise just their presence. anyways i love ya and thank u for all the kind words on pretty voice :(((

you walked around stage with more confidence then ever. you questioned if fake confidence still counts as confidence, but nobody seemed to know that you’re faking it. it had been 2 weeks since your breakup with matt, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t wreck you. but you don’t want to ruin the fans experience while you’re on tour, so you maintained your confident-happy-seductive-popstar act.

you were considered the new it girl of pop music. even though you were at your worst, you were getting a lot of attention. most questions fans asked you were about the breakup, but you were trending on twitter for a week straight. fans were making sad breakup edits and update accounts were notifying everyone about the latest stuff regarding the breakup.

because of those update accounts, you knew that matt and his brothers were at your show tonight. you didn’t know why, and even though it made you sick, you got up on the stage and shook your ass and sang your little heart out.

you wore a short lilac skirt, the one that fits you like skin. it drive matt crazy; the way it matched your skin tone so perfectly and accentuated your curves. you were a humble girl, but there were times you knew just how hot you were.

you felt bittersweet about this being the last stop of your tour. you were excited you could rest and grieve and mourn your ended relationship. but you were sad because of the happiness you did feel at one point performing to your fans and the family you created with your band.

with it being the last stop of tour, your team is throwing a little party at some club nearby the venue in seattle. it was planned for weeks now, and at the time you planned it, you added matt and his brothers name to the guest list. and you didn’t have the guts to remove it after the breakup, you didn’t even think you needed to because why would he show up? you regret it as you look at him from your spot on stage. he’s standing on the balcony with his brothers, and he looks guilty and mad at the same time. you quickly look away before you became sick, like how you normally feel seeing his face anywhere.

you say your goodbyes to the crowd and walk off stage as confetti shoots from the ceiling. you make your way backstage where your team awaits you, showering you with compliments and praises. the usual ‘you did so great tonight’ shit. matt used to be the first one to compliment you after a show, whispering sweet things in your ear; odd compliments that nobody else would tell you but that’s why they meant so much. you shake the thought of him from your mind as you pray that he won’t attend the party later tonight.

standing at the bar like somethings funny, bubbly.

God didn’t answer your prayers, unfortunately. you stood talking to one of your best friends, madison beer, but instead of keeping eye contact with her as she talks to you, your eyes are on matt. he’s on the other corner of the room by the bar, with his brothers. chris is sipping on a pepsi, nick with a dr. pepper, and matt has nothing in his hands. he glances over to you and goes back to his conversation with chris. he laughs and you wonder what he’s laughing at, you brush it off and engage in your conversation with madison.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. an endless stream of curse words run through your mind because knowing he’s in the same room as you, at your party, is driving you insane. you wander through the crowds, making small talk but never staying with the same people for long. you sneak a quick look at matt who seems oddly bubbly while he’s talking to some blonde girl. as if he can feel your stare, he looks at you and makes a face. not a disgusted face, but one that reads ‘i see you too.’

an hour or two passes and i see some blonde girl approach him, and i know he wouldn’t *dare*. while we technically can see other people, we were never *not* each others. the blonde girl, who had to have been someone’s plus one cause i know damn well i didn’t invite her, is so obviously flirting with him. how bold of her! he seems uninterested but he’s still talking to her, which makes me feel sick. i hate he still has that effect on me.

say you got somebody, i’ll say i got someone too.

i know it’s petty, but i just want him to know that i can have someone too. i walk up to the first boy that i see, making small talk and his eyes almost pop out of his head when he realizes who i am. i can feel matt’s stare from across the room. i have zero interest in this guy i’m talking to, i just want to piss matt off. i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing. i tell all of my friends that i hate him, but i go fucking crazy when i see him or hear anything about him.

part of me wants to yell at him and curse him out, and the other half wants to take him back to my hotel. your phone is tucked into the neckline of your dress, feeling it vibrate. you smile at the stranger and pull your phone out, matt’s name on your lockscreen. you look over and see him staring at you. it definitely worked, this man is furious.

ten minutes later, you wait in the gender neutral bathroom. you apply more lipgloss in the mirror when matt walks in, quickly locking the door behind him.

“you hate parties,” you mutter as you layer on more mauve lipgloss, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

he shrugs, “yeah, but i don’t hate you.”

you roll your eyes, “well, i hate you.”

he laughs dryly, “yeah? how come you’re here then? in this bathroom with me, with the door locked?” he says, walking up behind you. you can feel his bulge against your ass.

you sigh and turn around, less than an inch of distance between you. “i hate you.”

he nods, “for sure.” he brings his thumb to your glossed lips, smirking. “so pretty.”

before you could even think twice, you’re sitting on the sink, wrapping your legs around matt’s waist, making out. maybe if you were sober you wouldn’t be in this situation, but if you were sober you probably would have wanted it more.

“hate you so much,” you mumble in between sloppy kisses.

“i know,” he mutters. he taps your thighs, signaling for you to spread them more. and of course, you do. he reaches his hand under your dress, pulling your panties to the side. he does all of this without breaking your kiss, too. and to no one’s surprise, you’re soaked.

he looks up at you, “you hate me so much but you’re soaking wet? doesn’t make sense.” he says.

“stop talking,” you whine.

he plunges two fingers into your cunt, and your hand immediately flies to your mouth. while it isn’t out of the ordinary to have sex in a bathroom at a club, you don’t want people to know it’s you.

he uses his other hand and pulls your hand away from your mouth. “let ‘em hear you.”

he continues fingering you until he feels your walls clench down on his fingers, and he pulls them out.

“matt!” you whine.

he nods, “i know, baby.” matt loves to edge you, and it pisses you off.

you roll your eyes and push him away, hopping off the sink. “no, i really do hate you.”

matt rolls his eyes, “oh, here we go again with that bullshit.”

you’re about to unlock the door and walk out of it before matt stops you. he swats your hand away from the door knob and walks closer to you until you’re up against the door.

“off,” he says, tugging at the fabric of your dress. and even though you said you hated him 5 seconds ago, you obey him.

he helps you wiggle out of your dress, you step out of it and slide it across the bathroom.

matt takes his belt off and unbuttons his jeans, you slide his boxers down to his ankles along with his jeans.

you’re still against the door when matt says, “jump.” you quickly obey, wrapping your legs around his hips. he uses the door to help not drop you, and you’re sure your back will hurt and have some bruises after this.

his dick is firmly pressing against your clit, and matt uses one arm to support you and the other to slide his dick inside your entrance. you hadn’t had his cock in a couple months, and it’s like it’s the first time again.

“oh fuck,” he groans. “still so tight. none of the other guys can stretch you like i do, huh?” he whispers into your ear.

“shut up and fuck me already, matt.” you reply bitterly.

“if you say so,” he whispers before bucking his hips into you so hard you think you might have a bruise.

“oh!” you gasp.

matt maintains eye contact with you, “you miss this dick?”

you nod as he continues to fuck into you, the door rattling against you.

“i don’t believe that, use your words, y/n.” he teases.

“i missed— oh fuck, missed your dick,” you whimper.

he pushed you harder against the door behind you so he could use his other hand to rub circles on your clit.

“well, i missed this pussy too. know it missed me back.”

your hole fluttered at his words which made him let out a soft groan. you felt his dick everywhere, in your soul.

he moved his hand away from your clit, leaving you trembling.

“m’back hurts,” you whined as he slid his dick in and out of you.

matt looked at you with sympathy, “i know baby… but we’re in a bathroom cause you’re jus’ so needy, so there’s not much room for me to fuck you like i want.”

this was true.

he rammed into you harder and faster, causing you to let out an almost pornographic shriek.

matt dryly laughed, “sound so pretty. such a pretty voice.”

you knew how much matt loved your career. the most famous pop girl at the moment wrapped around his finger. he loved watching your shows and seeing how all your female fans would bring their boyfriends to a concert and he’d watch their intense stares as you pranced around on stage in nothing but a tiny dress and heels. everyone wanted to fuck you or be you, and he loved that you were his in every way. but after the breakup, he’s gotten angry so of course he has to make up for lost time with a very intense fuck.

he slammed into you and pulled out just as quick, repeating this until he can feel your walls tightening against his lengthy cock.

“c’mon, baby. know your close, give it to me.” he whispered in your ear.

“oh god,” you moaned.

matt stopped fucking you, “s’not my name, baby.”

you whined, “fuck me, matt.” you said, putting emphasis on his name.

he smiled and started pounding into you again. “good job, baby. love when you use that pretty lil voice of yours.”

your nails scratched artwork onto his back, maybe breaking skin but matt didn’t mind at all.

“you gonna cum?” he taunted.

you nodded, “matt!”

“cum for me baby,” he demanded.

“oh god! oh, oh matt!” you said it correctly this time as your orgasm ripped through you. the first genuinely good one in two weeks.

matt didn’t slow down, he stayed fucking you through your orgasm.

“can’t!” you yelled.

matt shook his head, “you can. jus’ gimme one more. one more.”

you shut your eyes tightly gripping onto his back as tight as you can. you start squirming as your next orgasm approaches.

“m’cumming! oh! matt, i’m cumming!”

he nods, “i know baby.”

after you come down from your orgasm high, matt helps you adjust yourself so you look presentable to go back out into your party.

you reapply your lip gloss and run your fingers through your hair, combing them out. you fix your dress while matt hands you your panties.

“well, it was nice seeing you.” you say sweetly, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“very nice.” he says with a smirk on his face. he adjusts his hair too before unlocking the door and holding it open for you. you’re greeted by a long line of upset faces waiting to use the bathroom.

you and matt make side eye each other as you walk away from the crowd, giggling.

you and matt both know you were never not each others.

[minkiverse]

CHOI SAN FIC RECS

Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Kim Hongjoong - Park Seonghwa - Jeong Yunho - Kang Yeosang - Song Mingi - Jung Wooyoung - Choi Jongho

Here it is the behemoth 😭😭 i knew this one was going to take some time but it had multiple delays due to irl stuf but IT IS HERE NOW!!!! except i could not fit it all in one post so a part 2 will come out eventually (after poly!ateez pt 2 most likely) n e ways Shout out this man who harassed my tiktok feed until i became double biased i lov him sosososososooooo much🥹🥹

DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!

Key:

✨ - My Favs

🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)

⛈️ - Angst

💗 - Fluff

🍑 - Humor

SERIES

ceilings pt 2 pt 3 - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥⛈️💗 Single Mom AU ✧ PE Teacher!San

i dont want to spoil anything but there is a good chance you can figure out this trope, which i know is not for everyone BUT I EAT THAT SHIT UP EVERYTIME!!!! this is just the cutest fluffiest lil series i ever read like I LOVE THEM!!!!

The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder pt 2 - @ennysbookstore ✨🔥⛈️💗 Office AU

i am still so mad at how long it took me to get around to reading this because man. I LOVE THIS FIC!!!!! i literally was telling my irls about it because the plot twist at the end of pt1 got me so fucking good 😭😭 i am truly in love with this san like i have no other words than please read this two shot it is incredible (also read every other work by this author pls)

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES

what lies beneath us - @hongism 🔥⛈️💗 College AU

destiny - @tainsan ⛈️💗Time Travel AU ✧ Idol AU

Drowsy - @sxcret-garden 🔥

Am I your favorite? - @deja-yu 💗

Unholy Night - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Priest AU

Untitled - @yourfatherlucifer 🔥

Eggnog Confession - @stayteezdreams 💗

Mr. Jealousy - @sanhwaism 💗🍑

Convince Me - @littleocean-rose 🔥

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Sunrise - @sorryimananti-romantic 🔥💗⛈️ Soldier AU

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

incubus: coming of age - @byuntrash101 🔥Incubus!San

in the quiet spaces - @honeyhotteoks 🔥💗

Stay Focused - @beginningofwonderland ✨🔥 Office AU ✧ Tutor AU

god the tension between these two 😩😩😩 their banter is so flirty like even when san is helping the mc out with uni stuff its just sooooooooooooo 🤌🤌🤌🤌 it gives off a bit of romcom vibes WHICH I LOVE!~

Dry Humping with San - @littleocean-rose 🔥

chocolate - @mingigoo 🔥 Brother's Best Friend AU

obsession - @cheollipop 🔥 Mafia AU

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

[7:30 am] - @destiny-fics 🔥

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Tired - @thr34t2sanity 🔥

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

pool side - @beatteez 🔥

Depths of the Ocean - @joong-of-gold 💗 Office AU ✧ Single Dad!San

Untitled - @jeon-ify 🔥

superstar - @bro-atz 🔥

A Little Secret - @choism 🔥

Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥

Untitled - @orgverse 🔥

choi san boyfriend texts - @koizekomi 🍑

Wander though my body - @armpirate 🔥

misunderstandings w/ san - @beenbaanbuun ⛈️💗

Interlude | Opening Sequence - @luvt0kki 🔥⛈️ Sci-Fi AU

Untitled - @eightmakesonebraincell 💗 Friends to Lovers AU

prelude in e minor - @bro-atz 🔥⛈️ Professor AU ✧ Infidelity

motive - @yunhoszn 🔥 Gym Partner AU

u got it bad - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥💗 Baseball AU

I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH!!!!! how this author writes banter is just so real and funny and you just can't help but be charmed by san and mc!!! as a former sports anime fan, i love a sports au ok it will hit EVERYTIME!! and this is one the bests truly!

Love Death + Robots - @kitten4sannie 🔥⛈️ Cyberpunk AU ✧ Stripper!San

kiss me more - @miirohs 💗

Tall Trees - @sluttywoozi 🔥.⛈️💗 Personal Trainer AU

take a picture - @jeon-ify 🔥

y'know what they say about guitarists - @lomlhwa 🔥 Band AU

stretch marks w/ san - @beenbaanbuun 💗

[8:50pm] - @moamidzyism 🔥Neighbors AU

imagine being in a secret relationship - @byeolbeloved 🔥💗Badyboy!San

cockwarming w/ san - @beenbaanbuun 🔥💗

Boyfriend San - @cheeseceli 💗

roadtrip - @lomlhwa 🔥

leave the window open - @sungbeam 💗 Neighbor AU

crimson - @hwaslayer ✨🔥⛈️ Nightclub AU ✧ Stripper!MC

how these two just fall in love is so beautifully written 😭😭 its such an interesting dynamic but san so forthcoming with his feelings i could melt 🫠🫠 AND THE SMUT IS FUCKING INSANE 😩😩

backstage backshots with san - @kitten4sannie 🔥

the scentist - @k-hotchoisan 🔥Neighbor AU ✧ Scentist!San

steamed milk - @yunhoszn 🔥💗 Barista AU

Last Christmas - @kitten4sannie 🔥⛈️💗 Exes to Lovers AU

It's You - @minisugakoobies 💗 Roommate AU ✧ Best Friend's Brother AU

Stern, but sweet - @bvidzsoo 💗 Teacher AU

Trip Shenanigans - @hee0soo 💗 Dad!San

pretty kitty - @k-hotchoisan 🔥 Hybrid AU

periods w/ choi san - @beenbaanbuun 💗

untitled - @brainddeadd 🔥

Day 8 - @multifandomfantasies ✨🔥

as a large sub!ateez enthusiast this should not be shocking 🫠🫠 i just love a needy desperate san so much and this fic 😩😩 boy does it deliver

gold rush - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Cowboy AU

to taint you soul - @seonghwaddict ✨🔥⛈️ Incubus!San

when i went into reading this i just thought it would be pure demon smut, but like i fell in love with the mc and san so easily 😭😭 like the plot is devastating and how san like just takes care of the mc is soooo 🥺🥺🥺🥺 THE SMUT IS ALSOSDFJSFJOGSJRSGJGJ yeah its good highly recommend 👍👍

untitled - @teeskzagain 🔥

tied up - @beenbaanbuun 🔥

celebrate for you - @cheollipop 🔥💗

untitled - @sluttywonwoo 🔥

too sweet - @yoongiseesawmp3 💗 Model AU

Give in to Me - @hwallazia 🔥

Filthy Lips, Loving Touch - @ja3hwa 🔥💗

Ateez San as your BF - @kisshwa 🍑

boyfriend texts - @beenbaanbuun 🍑

realistic sex with san - @byuntrash101 🔥💗

Underwater - @bvidzsoo 🔥⛈️💗 Greek Mythology AU ✧ Ares!San

kitten fever - @kitten4sannie 🔥 Hybrid AU

head to head - @bro-atz 🔥

middle of the night - @kitten4sannie 🔥

untitled - @choism 🔥

rollin' - @bro-atz 🔥

handy - @hausofwoo 🔥💗

san x chubby!reader - @sluttywoozi 💗

Treat You Better - @starskq 🔥⛈️💗 Friends to Lovers AU

untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Stripper!San

knots - @bro-atz ✨🔥💗 Masseuse AU

i didnt think i had a thing for this au but i love it everytime! when mc just gets a really good fucking massage and then a real good fucking too aaadfsgsgfgdf but this is honestly so intimate and warm feeling and just san man 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

[hboww2rewatch]

Welcome to HBO's WWII Fandom Rewatch!

You are cordially invited to join us in watching Band of Brothers, The Pacific, and Masters of the Air in chronological order April 29 - July 14, 2024.

We will be watching three episodes a week and will have prompts to boost fandom creation as we watch together!

You can find the episode schedule and prompts below the cut. Individual posts can be found here and here if you prefer shorter posts.

If you are unable to watch the show at the same time as the schedule, no worries. While we are personally planning to liveblog together the episodes per the schedule, we understand everyone has lives outside of tumblr. Watch whenever you are able - our goal is to bond over our love for these shows and experience them again together. Pop in when you are able! :)

Please tag all your posts during this event with #hboww2rewatch and give us a follow for all updates on the rewatch.

Please reblog this post to spread the word!

Schedule:

We are tentatively planning to watch Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturdays, but that is not set in stone - watch when you are able during the week!

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5

The Pacific E1  (Dec ‘41- Oct ‘42) The Pacific E2  (Oct ‘42) The Pacific E3  (Dec ‘42- Fall ‘43)

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12

Masters of the Air E1  (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E2  (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E3   (Aug ‘43)

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19

Masters of the Air E4 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E5 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E6 (Oct ‘43)

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26

The Pacific E4  (Dec ‘43) Masters of the Air E7  (march ‘44) Band of Brothers E1  (June ‘44)

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2

Masters of the Air E8  (June ‘44) Band of Brothers E2  (June 6, ‘44) Band of Brothers E3  (June 7, ‘44)

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

The Pacific E5  (Sept ‘44) Band of Brothers E4  (Sept ‘44) The Pacific E6  (Sept-Oct ‘44)

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16

Band of Brothers E5  (Oct ‘44) The Pacific E7  (Oct-Dec ‘44) Band of Brothers E6  (Dec ‘44)

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23

Band of Brothers E7  (Jan ‘45) Band of Brothers E8  (Feb ‘45) The Pacific E8  (Feb ‘45)

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30

Band of Brothers E9  (April ‘45) The Pacific E9  (April-June ‘45) Masters of the Air E9  (Feb-June ‘45)

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7

Band of Brothers E10  (May-Aug ‘45) The Pacific E10  (Aug ‘45) Saving Private Ryan (Bonus event)

Week 11: Mon July 8- Sun July 14 - post rewatch events to encourage fellow fans!

Reblog people’s creations

Leave comments on fics

Consider making a new friend in someone else who participated

Prompts:

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5:

Heading Out

First Fight

Friends

Orange

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12:

Crash

Crew

Superstition

Blue

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19:

Dancing

Reunion

Kinship

Red

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26:

Recuperation

Camp Life

Training

Green

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2:

Tuskeegees

Parachute

Injured

Purple

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

Reunited

Replacement

Airfield

White

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16:

Typewriter

Loss

Cold

Pink

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23:

Shelling

Translation

Wedding

Brown

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30:

Discovery

Humanity

Celebration

Yellow

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7:

Bonding

Adjustment

Sacrifice

Dress Uniform

Black

Week 11 Mon July 8- Sun July 14:

Favorite Crew

Favorite Company

Best Friendship

Humor

Underrated Character

Character + Quote

Headcanons

Crossover

Something Missing

[noneedtoamputate]

Chuck/Ellen, #10 😌

Sorry this took so long. I had free time this earlier this month, and then I didn't. The prompt was for the word "monument," and I know a monument should be a more permanent structure than how I used it in the story, but this idea came to me and I decided to go with it. The picture of Skip and Chuck mentioned in the story is the third one down.

November 2, 1967

The front door opened and shut as Ellen checked the cornbread in the oven. 

“Please go tell your brother and sister that supper is ready,” she asked Ron, their middle child, doing homework at the kitchen table. “And don't …”

“SUPPER’S READY!” He closed his textbook and ran off toward his bedroom. 

“ … yell,” Ellen said under her breath.

“Did I hear supper’s ready?” Chuck walked into the kitchen, home from work.

Ellen rolled her eyes and accepted his kiss to her cheek. “Why walk a few steps when you can just scream at the top of your lungs?”

Chuck washed his hands at the sink and Ellen arranged food on the table as the sounds of children grew closer.

“What’s for supper?” asked Ken. At fourteen, he was already taller than Ellen and towered over Ron, only a year younger but who had not yet hit his growth spurt. 

“Chili,” replied Ellen, as she filled a bowl and handed it to Chuck. 

“Ugh, chili? Mom, you know I don’t like it. You always make what the boys want to eat,” Mary complained. At eleven, she already displayed angst usually reserved for teenagers.

“Your mother isn’t running a restaurant,” Chuck said firmly. “Eat it or make yourself a sandwich.”

Mary decided it was easier to eat the chili. She didn’t really feel like making her own supper, and she certainly didn’t want to hear her dad go on about eating K rations in Bastogne or all the hungry kids he went to school with during the depression.

After the boys helped themselves to seconds, Ellen asked the dreaded question.

“What was one thing you learned at school today?”

Sometimes, it was like pulling teeth, getting her children to recall one fact from the day. But tonight, Mary had something to share, much to the relief of her brothers.

“Today is The Day of the Dead,” Mary stated.

“Never heard of it,” Ken said, his mouth full of cornbread.

“It’s a holiday in Mexico. In Spanish, it’s called Dia … de … los … Ma … Mo …”

“Muertos,” finished Ron.

“Show off,” Ken replied. 

“You’d know it too, if you weren’t taking a useless language,” Ron argued.

“French isn’t useless,” Ellen countered. “I’m sure your father would have liked knowing more French when he landed in Normandy.”

“Did just fine with the War Department phrasebook, but thanks for your concern.”

Ken noticed his parents smile at each other and share a look, like they were saying something with their eyes.

 He wondered why they were so weird.

“But we live in San Francisco,” Ron explained. “And it’s pretty dumb to take French just because of a girl in your class. Carla Marconi,” he teased his brother.

“Shut up!” Ken shouted.

“Hey!” Chuck shouted louder. “Knock it off, the both of you.”

Mary continued, completely unconcerned about the ruckus her brothers made.

“It’s a day when you remember family and friends who have died,” she explained.

“Sounds pretty depressing,” Ron said.

“No, you're supposed to remember happy memories, and the good things about them. It's not supposed to be sad.”

“What else?” Ron asked. Ellen looked up. It was unusual for one of the boys to take an interest in what their little sister had to say.

“You decorate an altar, or a table, with pictures of the dead people in your family, and flowers. Teresa Gonzalez explained how everyone in her family helps put it together.”

“That sounds like a beautiful way to remember loved ones,” Ellen commented.

“I told Teresa we had an altar like that at our house, too. Not with the flowers, but with the pictures,” Mary went on.

“We do?” Chuck asked. 

“Yeah, we do,” Ken said, and Ron nodded in agreement. 

The kids stood up and walked toward the family room. Ellen and Chuck looked at each other quizzically and followed. 

Ken, Ron, and Mary stood in front of the built-in bookshelves Chuck and Ellen installed a few years after they bought the house. On the top row, too high to easily reach a book, were framed photos of family and friends.

“Uncle Ken,” Ron said simply, pointing to a picture of Ellen’s brother in his Marine dress blues, his arm around his proud older sister before he shipped out to Korea.

“Mom said he always told the best jokes and was really good at football. There was that time when the starting quarterback got hurt and he went in and threw a touchdown to win the game,” his namesake recalled about the uncle he never had a chance to meet. 

“He would have loved to watch you play,” Ellen said to her oldest son, who played on his JV high school team this past season, and he smiled.

“And there's Skip Muck,” Mary said, his arm around Chuck after they earned their jump wings. “He got his nickname because when he was little, he skipped everywhere. He was the nicest guy in the company, right, Dad?” Chuck nodded, unable to say anything in the moment. 

“Grandma Thompson,” Ron said. A picture of Ellen’s motger, with a young Ellen seated next to her while she held a baby Ken, before she had given up on life.

“I don’t really remember her, and she wasn't the nicest person, but you must have learned something from her because you’re a good mom,” Mary said to Ellen.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Ellen said, and she felt tears start in her eyes.

“And Grandpa Grant,” Ron continued. Chuck stood next to his dad, mirror images of each other. Chuck looked about sixteen, not long before his father passed away.

“He taught you how to read the box scores and play baseball and loved the Pirates,” Ken said. 

“He drove you and Gran all the way from Pittsburgh when you moved here,” Mary remembered.

Chuck nodded. “I was just a bit younger than you,” he said, remembering that time when his dad had been laid off at the steel mill and they moved to California for the promise of work. He often wondered if he could have been as brave as his father, starting over like that. How many times he wished he could ask his dad for advice, on how to be a good husband or a good father. 

“And there’s Eugene Jackson. He died on that patrol.” Ken pointed at his picture. It was a picture of Second Platoon on the back of a truck, taken after they captured Foy. 

“He was just sixteen when he joined the army. It was the first time in a long time he had three meals a day. He would scarf down everything in front of him, even if the food was terrible,” Ron recalled.

Chuck noticed Ken’s eyes get large, realizing that Eugene was not much older than him when he joined up. He put his hand on his son’s shoulder.  Ellen saw Mary’s eyes glance downwards, perhaps feeling a bit ashamed for complaining about chili when Private Jackson went hungry growing up. 

“He was a good paratrooper. Did everything he was asked and looked out for his squad,” Chuck shared. 

The children looked at the pictures quietly, and Chuck and Ellen looked at each other. They never sat down and shared these stories. They had all come out in bits and pieces. Stories about Skip when the Christensons came over and Chuck and Pat would talk well into the night. Ellen with a passing comment about the difficult relationship with her mother. Happy memories of Ken on Veterans Day. 

The kids had been listening. And they remembered.

Eventually, the boys left to finish their homework and Mary turned on the television to watch The Flying Nun. 

Ellen settled Mary into bed and told the boys it was time for lights out, though she knew the desk lamp would find its way on soon enough.

She finished up in the kitchen and saw Chuck sitting outside on the patio. If asked, most people would have described Chuck as friendly, outgoing, funny. And he was all those things. But he also had a quiet side, and sometimes he needed to be alone with his thoughts, to think things through without the distractions of a business, a wife, three kids. Ellen was more than happy to give him that space and time.

The table cleared, the dishes done, the floor swept, Ellen started the kettle and grabbed a coat and blanket from the hall closet. 

She slid open the patio door.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked.

Chuck shook his head. He loved that Ellen asked, and that if he answered yes, she wouldn't have minded in the slightest. How lucky he was to have someone understand him the way she did.

She sat down next to him, handed him the mug of tea, and laid the blanket over their laps.

They sat quietly, Chuck holding the mug and a cigarette in his right hand. Ellen hadn’t smoked regularly in years, but the smell of Lucky Strikes was comforting. 

It was the smell of Chuck. It was the smell of home.

“Remember when you came back from the doctor’s office after you found out you were expecting Ken?” Chuck broke the silence.

“I do,” Ellen said.

“We were so excited, but I didn't know if I would be able to hack it, and you thought you would turn into your mother.”

She nodded at the bittersweet memory.

He turned to face her.

“I think we’re doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Ellen repeated.

“They still have terrible taste in music and their rooms are a mess, but they’re doing okay in the things that really matter.” 

“I read something once that you only live as long as the last person who remembers you,” Ellen said. 

“That's a nice notion,” Chuck said. “It sounds like something Skip would have said.” 

They went quiet again, thinking about their loved ones who would live on just a little bit longer because their children cared enough to know their stories.