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▎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 ▎
»»————- 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘵𝘩🕊️
𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙽𝙴 — 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍'𝚜 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘰𝘧
𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴
𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩
𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱...
—ᴸᵃᵒ ᵀᶻᵘ
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y/o/l - your/original/location
(where you're originally from/reside.)
THE FIRST CREW OF THE 100TH BOMB GROUP HAD JUST LEFT FOR ENGLAND... A few weeks before spring, when the weather remained highly unpredictable, the first team was dispatched to organize and create a welcoming environment for the upcoming arrivals. Departing eight hours ago, just as dawn broke, they were now only a few hours away from their destination, eagerly anticipating a much-needed rest and their sole meal of the day. Despite the exhaustion, the journey provided ample opportunity for bonding, particularly for one young woman who was gradually earning the respect of her macho and dominant companions.
"Just like toe-fungus." Joked one of them whose name she still hadn't learned. "I'll take what I can get, pipsqueak." She playfully retorted, assigning the man a new nickname, making all the others laugh. "Hey, how come she gets to call me that?!" The man fumed with embarrassment. "Well, I mean, you do have a tiny wang... At least that's what your wife told me." Bucky chimed in. "Hey, eyes on the road, Exec." Scoffed Pipsqueak, embracing the name, for it sure couldn't get worse for him any more than this. "So, got any names for the fort too, you lil wiseacre?" He then turned to the y/h/c woman that co-piloted their fort.
"Whatever's easiest to remember." She replied, not giving it much thought. "Fair enough." They all agreed, continuing their voyage to join the US Army's Eighth Air Force in it's battle against Nazi Germany. "No, Porridge for the last time, we're not callin' her Porridge Paradise, alright?" Sighed a bombardier as the men continued brawling regarding the name. "Hey Greyson, you sure you got us to the right fjord?" y/n questioned once the fort was ambushed by a dense billow of thunderous clouds. "Roger. It's probably just the weather." The blonde assured.
"Joker, how we lookin' back there?" Bucky asked as he tried his best to make it out of there in one piece. "All clear, sir." The boy informed. "Roger that." y/n heaved out a sigh of relief as they finally crossed the valley, entering a fog-free terrain. Most of the crew had never been so far away from home, let alone flown in an airplane. And Major l/n was no exception. Originally from y/o/l, her family moved to Casper, Wyoming when she turned 10. Things got rough ever since as her father lost his job, and her mother ran away, leaving her all alone in the vast cesspool of discourteous cowboys.
Life was very hard back then, but at least it was bearable. All thanks to a certain blonde Major, whose presence made her life a lot less insufferable. They clicked almost instantly the day they met. Both of them recalled it as if it were only yesterday; but the echoes of old memories still lingered, their bittersweet sting a constant reminder of wounds that never truly healed. Watching the once timid boy blossom into the formidable man he had become reopened those wounds in a way she never anticipated.
He consumed her thoughts entirely, just as she consumed his. Sorting through the tangled web of emotions they had long neglected proved far more arduous than either of them had imagined. After burying their feelings for so long, they had unwittingly buried a part of themselves too, until they had almost forgotten they were ever there. Yet, as they confronted the depth of their connection, they realized that some wounds, no matter how deeply buried, could never truly be forgotten.
Each and every member of the crew came from every corner of the vast country, all of them with one common purpose... Why, to bring the war to Hitler's very doorstep, of course. "Pilot to crew: We'll be touching down in Greenland shortly to get some chow and some rest." Bucky announced, and the fort erupted with cheers. "Blondie Tower, Army 233. A flight of B-17 over Bluie West One; landing instructions, please." Requested a sergeant as the group got closer. Regardless of the violent gusts that further derailed their timings, the landing was a smooth one.
"Yeah, right... if by smooth you mean belly flopping into the freezing fucking river." Grayson grumbled, hopping outta the fort, and onto the ground once the rescue team managed to pull the jet out. "Could've been a lot worse, you know." Scoffed the unamused Major, almost instantly shivering the moment the icy breeze whipped her face. "Oh really? Like what exactly?" Questioned Pipsqueak, as annoyed as his friend. "Head-diving into a frozen pig sty-" Shrugged the raven, looking towards a frozen barn not too far from the spot where they crashed. "So what, we spend the night here or something?" The girl then asked.
"We eat, we drink, we sleep around with pretty women, and then off to England we go." Answered the Air Exec, already eye-fucking a couple of pretty maidens. "Not you though, Major. You may be pretty, but you're one of us now, Ducky." He then chuckled, resting arm amiably on her shoulder. "Everyone back at Texas called me Viper." She corrected, feeling the heat rush up to her face as she reminisced about the day she was first given that nickname. "Wiper? Sheesh- that's degrading. No wonder you have such little tolerance to bullshit on your fresh journey." Pipsqueak frowned understandingly.
"Hey, at least it's better than Dishwasher. Isn't that what Bubbles was planning on calling her?" The raven rolled his eyes, somewhat amused, somewhat offended. Ideally he wouldn't be bothered much by anything that wasn't actively targeted towards him, and as far as insulting nicknames were concerned, he came up with some of the very best. Yet when it came to the girl, he didn't have the heart for it. It took some time to get her to relax a little around him, and once everyone got familiar to each other, he too found himself giving more than one fuck about her feelings. Besides, seeing the look in his friend's eyes yesterday contributed to his kindness too.
Gale Cleven was known for his stoic demeanor, keeping to himself and immersing himself in his work. He shied away from social gatherings, never one to dance with beautiful women or indulge in vices like excessive drinking or gambling. Sports held no interest for him either. Yet, when this mysterious woman appeared out of nowhere the previous night, something stirred within him. Suddenly, his eyes, typically devoid of emotion, were ablaze with a fire he couldn't deny — a passion ignited by the enigmatic presence of his captivating childhood crush. The only girl he was head over heels for. The only girl he would ever breathe for.
Certainly if she still managed to bring that side out of his friend, there must be something to her, right? And the least Major Egan could do, as a good friend, and a gentleman would be to treat the lady with utmost respect. "So this is where we're staying?" Grayson asked, examining an inn located in a deserted alley. "It's a lot better on the inside." Bucky said confidently. "How can you be so sure about that?" y/n asked. "All the good bars always start out like this." He smirked, barging into the dimly lit, shady tavern with a homely vibe to it. "You can copy that, sir." Smiled Pipsqueak as they all entered their shelter for the night.
"So, what do you say, Major? Think you could drink the champ under the table?"
(1.3k words)
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