#AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON ROSIE AND JOHN

[leosficlist]

Post S4 Getting Together Pt3

Here we go again, gang, since I am a fiend. Again, parentlock is not the focus, but is a lovely bonus

Post S4 pt1, Post S4 pt2

Shift by Stopthat 48.5k words

“I’m tired, John,” He murmurs. Barely a whisper. John swallows, feeling irrationally helpless.

“I can see that,” He responds quietly, tracing an eyebrow with the pad of his thumb. “Sleep, then,” He can hear the crack in his own voice—a perfect match for the one in his chest. He hopes that Sherlock won’t notice, won’t try to pick it all apart.

“Not what I meant,” He rumbles, as he drifts off and away, leaving John alone in wakefulness to wonder what the hell had just happened.

notes: buying a house, misunderstandings, promises of forever, honeymoons

Tapestry by stopthat 15k words

“People would talk,” he tries, repurposing an old line, a shortcut to a recurring theme in their lives.

“They do little else.” John dutifully completes the circuit with a sigh. “Sherlock,” he continues haltingly, eyes falling back to his hands as he considers his words. “Would they be wrong, though, really?”

notes: getting together, going to harry/clara's wedding, first kiss, John adores Sherlock openly

Without Complexities or Pride by Raina_at 1.6k words

Love is what happens when you look and look and finally see.

notes: sweet, warm, a sliding together of finally

more than you could ever know by subtext-is-my-division (Quill_A) 7.6k words

Suddenly, Sherlock’s hand curls around his bicep. Warm and grounding, over the wool of his jumper. He fixes him with his impossible, multi-coloured gaze, and asks, “Are you happy?”

Is he-

Sherlock cocks his head, and his flushed cheeks glow in the darkness. (Sherlock always looks unfairly pretty when he’s drunk.)

notes: christmas fluff, convincing John to come back to baker st, Sherlock decorating for John and Rosie

coming home by disc0inferno 2k words

John keeps falling asleep in Baker Street, and Sherlock decides to finally call him out on it.

notes: soft, sweet, accidental cuddling, love confessions

When All Else Fails by ClueingForLooks_221B 6.7k

John laughed. “Well, I already poured you some, but no. I was going to ask, why don’t you ever correct anyone when they assume you and I are together?”

“We are together,” he replied simply, still typing away at his laptop.

John stiffened a bit at that. “What?”

“You and me. We’re together a lot, John. Why would I correct someone who points out a fact?”

John rolled his eyes as he headed back toward the kitchen. “That’s not what I meant,” he called as he put the wine back on the counter.

notes: soft and lovely, flirty but with a splash of insecure Sherlock

Home by aquileaofthelonelymountain 3.9k words

Suddenly, Sherlock couldn’t get his suitcase fast enough. Impatiently, he grabbed it and hurried through the masses toward the exit. A month abroad had been far too long.

After being away for a case, Sherlock is welcomed home.

In case you didn't know by TheKatlocker (TheKat79) 18.2k words

Sherlock loves John, John loves Sherlock... Are they ever going to tell each other? Spoiler: they will, but it's not that simple. As if it ever is.

notes: parentlock, misunderstandings. they suck at talking. fluffy sweet and lovely though, covers the events from both their povs, Sherlock has a book of things he loves about John

Move in by Strange_johnlock 3k words

Sherlock wants John and Rosie to move out. At least that's what John thinks.

notes: Sherlock starts looking for new apartments, John's insecurities cause him to fear the worst, sweet

More Than Okay by DissociativeSilence 9k words

Time has passed and Sherlock and John are settling back into their life of solving crimes. In the midst of a case, they both reflect on what they've been through and where they are now, what's survived, what's healing, and what's changed, for better or for worse. Day by day, they're learning more about how to live in the present, and on this day, they might just achieve that.

notes: little parentlock, Sherlock kisses John first, love confessions

'Almost' or 'Home is where the Heart is' by Strange_johnlock 7.9k words

"Where Sherlock enjoyed every second together and counted the minutes to see John again, his (former) best friend kept his distance, even when they sat on a bench together and watched Rosie run around the park. To Sherlock John was home, and John had found a different one."

Sherlock wants John to come home. John wants the space to cure his broken heart.

notes: Sherlock is so desperate to convince John that they should live together again, he starts staying at John's house for a bit.

Our Hands by Salambo06 4k words

Sherlock and John are in a cafe, gathering clues. The only problem is, Sherlock, socially unaware as he is, starts mouthing his observations louder and louder until eventually, he’s spinning around and rattling off at full speed and a fuller volume in the middle of the floor. Everyone is staring, and John is starting to become aware of this. When he realises what is happening, Sherlock hangs his head, his cheekbones colouring a light crimson. So John takes his hand boldly, even though they’ve never done this, even though he isn’t sure he can do this. And soon, Sherlock’s blush takes on a new meaning entirely.

notes: light, warm, full of sweet tension, yearning

[peachy-keenss]

i’ll make real rendered art sometime soon…but ahhh Rosemary…my daughter…i think about how she mingles with her family a bit.

[the-californicationist]

he comes closer and closer...

Price/Reader - TW: bondage, explicit consent, anal fingering, begging, male whimpering, edgeplay, blowjobs

“I want you to remember, especially in an hour or so, that you asked for this,” you kissed his bearded cheek softly, smelling his cologne, “Begged for it, even.”

“Aye. I did,” he replied, his accent thick and heady.

Captain Price was fully naked and strapped down to his office desk, tied with a length of paracord. His body was stretched out like a rubber band, his skin shining from sweat and covered in dark hair. You could hear his labored breathing and feel his eyes on you, watching you as you walked around the desk, rubbing his arms and legs with your hands, playing with his nipples, fondling him everywhere except where he wanted you to. 

“And yet, you say I’m being unfair?” You pouted playfully, settling yourself between his knees, purposely avoiding his twitching cock.

“Edging involves at least a little…attention. Touch me, love. Please.”

“Begging again? How desperate you are tonight,” you smiled, lowering your mouth just above where his pink head could reach. Watching his hips and cock strain towards you was enchanting. 

“Baby, please, it aches. You can’t…please, don’t just leave me like this.”

“Maybe just one little taste, hmm? Just to see if you’ll be a good boy.”

“I will,” he strained harder, fighting the ropes, “I will, I promise. Please-please-please…”

“I don’t know, Captain. Do you remember the rules?”

“Yes, love, I remember. Please, just -”

“Tell me.”

He sighed, and you watched his abs flex on the exhale, his belly convulsing with his ragged breaths,

“I have to warn you when I come, and…”

“And?” You drug out the word like a sticky strand of taffy, pulling it to the point of breaking. 

“...and if I don’t, I can’t have your cunt.”

“No, you can’t. So, be good, John. Show me you want this pussy.”

He growled, 

“Fuck, I want it right bloody now. Please, baby, I -”

“Shh. Enough. You need to learn patience, my darling. We’re just getting started.”

You put a dollop of lube in your hand and rubbed it all over his shaft. He was so swollen, and the cockring you put around him had kept him that way for a while. It was wrapped around the base of his shaft and under his balls, stretching the skin and keeping it rigid. He was grunting as you worked him, his whole body reacting to your touch. The desk creaked as he strained against it. You were a little concerned about its integrity. If he broke the straps, or the desk, there were no rules left to bind him. 

“Mmm, unhgh…yeah, just like that. Fuuuuuck…” Price groaned loudly. 

You stopped, pulling away from him with a wet pop. 

“Ah! No, no, no…” He complained. 

You ran your fingers up and down his torso, threatening to touch his cock again. Every time you got close, you could hear the wood of the desk cry out, stretching from his strength. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” You asked him, licking his nipple, biting his skin. 

“Oh, fuck, yes it does. Please, come back.”

You returned to his cock, but instead of quick solid strokes, you pulled him slowly, painfully slowly, and at an odd angle, so none of his regular sensations were available for him to hold onto. Each time you pulled up and over his cockhead, he would grunt for you, like an angry bull. 

Changing your grip, you massaged his balls and he sighed. Then, you rubbed his inner thighs and the skin behind his sack and between his legs, pressing on his internal root, jerking it as if it were his cock at the surface. It made his dick flag up and down as you did so, and he did everything he could to move you either forwards or back, being cruelly teased by your positioning. 

You stopped again. You heard him groan deep and low. His cock was rosy pink, flushed with blood and thicker than you’d ever seen it. You put some lube on your finger and dipped between his legs, finding his asshole, warm and covered in thick hair. He jolted, as much as the ropes would allow.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you remember Warsaw?”

His eyes were wild, but then they went ice cold, the realization washing over him. You chuckled, continuing, rimming your finger around his hole as you spoke, 

“You found me during our field training, and you held me down, plunging those fingers into my pussy and my ass, not allowing me to come for a whole evening, telling me that only bad soldiers got caught, and since I was bad, I didn’t deserve an orgasm. Have you been bad, John?”

You slipped a finger past his outer muscles, feeling the smooth skin inside of his asshole, massaging it in slow, aching circles. He held his breath, but he was shaking his head back and forth, protesting against your appraisal of his sins. You checked in with him, pausing your movements.

“Green or yellow?”

It took a few moments, but he growled out a very clear, 

“Green, love. Green.”

You pushed your finger in until you found the spot you were looking for. You began to rub little firm circles inside of him while jerking his cock with your free hand. There was so much to love about the feedback you were getting from him. His face was wide with intense pleasure, and his pupils were fully blown. You thrust your hand around him faster, focusing on his head. As soon as you saw his eyes clench shut, you removed yourself from him entirely. 

“No! Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned, frustrated and desperate for you to let him finish. 

“Mmm, about to break a rule, Captain? You never were good at following orders.”

You sucked his cock into your mouth, softly, gently, and applied almost no suction. He bucked against the table, slamming his hips and back into the wood. You could hear the ropes tightening against their bites. He was groaning and shaking from your warm, wet mouth. You lay your tongue at the base of his head and began to lap at his skin in long, slow licks. It was too slow and soft for him to feel any release, but it was enough to drive him past the point of normalcy. 

“Fuck! Fuck, more. More, love. I need more, please. Please. Please! Fuuuuuuck.”

You put your finger at the entrance of his asshole, but you didn’t enter him again. Still, he throbbed in your mouth, just the idea of you touching him inside gave him the same sensation. You pulled him out of you and leisurely massaged his dick again, keeping him right on the edge of his pleasure. Price was literally trembling with every moment of your touch, loudly grunting, unashamed of his behavior. 

Then, you decided to finger him again, taking it away the moment his breathing changed. You put him back in your mouth. Then, you took him out. At one point, you left him altogether, making a cup of tea and drinking it while you sat in his office chair, watching him watch you. Smiling. He thrashed against the ropes. 

He really was terrifying, objectively. Price could kill you in less than a second if he wanted to. He was enormous, muscular, and sharp as a knife. There was no where you could run, and there was no chance of you fighting him off. As you watched him writhe and pull at his bindings, you studied his form. His strong legs and huge ass provided immense leverage against the desktop, bowing the edges of its planks downward - ever so slightly - as he thrust against it. The captain’s wide chest bulged with his mountainous shoulders, causing the rope to whine as it tightened on its knot, the fibers stretching past their limits. Every time he threw his hips down in blissful agony, the whole room shuddered. He was like some sort of beast you’d caught in a trap. A tiger by the tail. 

Finally, you decided to end his suffering, but he didn’t know that. As you approached the desk again, he began to beg you,

“Please, love. Please. I’ll be good. I promise. Please, let me come. I’ll be good. Baby, please…”

There it was. That’s what you wanted. An obedient Price was a rare sight, and seeing him unfold right before your very eyes, like a rose in bloom, relaxing into your will - it was mesmerizing. You wanted to rub your nose in those pliant petals, bend them back away from his honeyed center. You were hooked. 

“Mmm. That's it, baby. Surely, such a good boy deserves a reward, hm?”

“Oh, fuck,” his tone was dark now that he knew what was coming. 

You put your mouth on him and grabbed his balls gently in your hand, sucking him with a strong rhythm, massaging his heavy sack with each thrust of your head. Price wasn’t that long, but his girth was a struggle. You pushed past it, giving the man what he’d been waiting for, choking yourself, pulling off his cockring and letting the blood flow back into his core as you swallowed his head in the back of your throat. 

"I'm gonna come. Oh, my God. I'm gonna fuckin' come, baby. Yes-yes-yes...ahhh!"

The wait was so worth it. With each bob of your head, he seized and panicked. It was as if every suckle was giving him a separate orgasm, and he came like a firehose. It squirted down your throat, hot and salty, and he was screaming for you. You were certain the whole base could hear him, even though they were all the way in the barracks. His legs locked out straight, pulling the ropes tight, and his back arched off of the desk in perfect agony. 

You drained his cock by pulling out the last few drops from his shaft, licking them up like dripping ice cream from a cone. Then, you untied his legs and hands. He lay there, panting, his face twisted in complexity, feeling aftershocks and riding them out, sated and drunkenly happy. 

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, girl, you better start runnin'. As soon as I get my legs, you are in for it.”

You bolted for the door, looking back at him over your shoulder, grinning. He had already rolled off of the desk and was trying to throw on his shorts, stumbling, slowly catching his bearings, quickly getting ready to hunt you down.

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

Read Part 2 here.

[rodolfoparras]

Pairing: John Price x Male reader

Cw: sexual tension

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Sergeant,” Price says as you search for the shaving tools located in his very small bathroom.

You just wave him off with your hand, silently cheering when you find what you were looking for before instructing him to take a seat on the toilet lid.

Price is quick to do as you say, before proceeding to try and undo the buttons on his shirt with his injured hand.

Eventually with some struggles he gets the shirt unbuttoned but has no success in taking it off.

“Here let me help” you say standing so close your knees knock together as your warm hands gently push his away.

Price only manages a nod in response trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck ears and cheeks as you help take off his clothing.

“Are you cold?” You say, probably noticing the goosebumps rising on his skin.

“No just get on with it” he grunts out, tipping his chin up.

You just chuckle at his antics before you lather up his face, watching the grays in his beard get coated in shaving cream.

“Just the chin and -“

“And a bit of the cheeks I know” you say with a playful smile on your face as you take the razor in your hand.

“You’re one grumpy old man you know?” You say with a chuckle, eyes flickering up to see the look on his face only to realize just how close you are standing to the older man.

For a second you feel yourself getting lost in those cerulean eyes; the way his black lashes fan against his cheeks, and the way his rosy lips stand out amongst the white foam lathered onto his skin.

“Tilt your head up a bit more” you say voice breathy and strained, forcing yourself to break the eye contact to focus on the task at hand.

He does as you say and although you’re no longer looking at him, you can feel the way his eyes follow your movements as you gently drag the razor across his cheek

Once you’re done with his cheeks. you move down to his chin, slowly but surely uncovering a faded scar on his skin.

He must’ve noticed you looking at it because he starts to speak

“I got it when I first enlisted” he says voice tinted with embarrassment “fell face first, ended up with a big scar right on my face, thought a beard would do a good job at covering it up”

Before you can even register what you’re doing your thumb caresses the scarred skin.

Your eyes flicker up to meet his own and once again you loose yourself in them.

For a second it feels like he’s leaning in closer because before you know of it you’re a hair away from his lips and you completely forget what you’re doing in the first place because suddenly your hand jerks and you’re drawing blood on his cheek.

Price hisses and quickly pulls away.

“Shit! Sorry sorry,” you say, watching the way he quickly walks over to the sink.

What you don’t see is the way he tries to blink back the haze from his eyes, the way he prays and hopes the cool water is enough to sooth his blush and the way his pulse is roaring in his ears as he cleans the blood of his cheek.

After wiping his face completely he returns back to his seat.

“I’m really so-“

“It’s fine,” he grunts out in response “Just get it done and over with sergeant,” he says, this time avoiding your gaze and nervously tapping on his leg

[moshpitgamma]

My Sunflower|| John Dory x Fiancé!Reader

Warnings:Angst+Fluff

(This is my first real fanfic so Plss don’t be TOO harsh)

YALL ITS LONG OK😭

——————————————————————

“John! I’m home!” Said the exhausted troll walking through the door of their shared apartment. “Huh? Damn it’s 9pm.” Y/n said checking the time. “Hun, You here?” They screamed again wondering why their fiancé wasn’t answering. When they didn’t get a response they started to get anxious, but convinced themselves he went to either the studio or to hang out with his brothers.

The clock finally hits 11:03pm and still there isn’t a sign of JD. “Why isn’t he answering his phone?” You said with worry laced in your voice. His brothers also didn’t answer their phones for god knows what. Now you’re in full panic mode pacing back and forth in the dining room blowing UP his phone with messages and calls. After your many failed attempts of contacting him you finally decided to call the only person you KNEW that was gonna pick up. So you called his grandma.

Once she answered you tried to hide your anxiousness and your panicked voice, but she caught on to it quickly. “Hi Mrs. Rosie, do you know where John is? I haven’t spoke to him since this morning before I went to work.” You asked frantically hoping that she would cure the pulsating adrenaline going through your body. When you finished your nauseating questions the silence you both held was fueling it like you were going to burst. When the never ending silence finally came to an end a sigh was heard. "Hun Bun….JD left hours ago after their embarrassing show fail." she told you with reassurance and empathy. She then continued to tell you how and what happened between the brothers. The last thing you ever heard from her was “Sweetie just give it time.” So you waited…

And waited….

And waited….

Until 20 years have passed and still no sign of John. You were invited to the royal wedding of King Grisel and Bridget and was currently trying to find a dress. While rampaging you closet like a mad woman you come across and unfamiliar bagged dress. When you took it out you stared at it with tears welling up in your eyes. It was your dress he proposed to you in. It was admired in jewels and yellow sunflower like petals and soft like satin and silk. It was one of a kind. Your debating stopped instantly and you proceeded to put on the dress.

FAST FORWARD TO WEDDING :>

“We are gathered here today t-.” “STOP THE WEDDING!” A random voice yelled…

You felt like your heart was going to jump out your chest from all the adrenaline rushing. Trying to force your tears down you finally built enough courage to turn around and look to where everyone else was looking. When you finally saw who it was your tears finally escaped their haunted and sorrowful chamber. He was there……

Standing in front of Branch?

Trying to pick him up?

You didn’t wanna get noticed in this state so you turned to leave but you felt a hand grab your flushed smaller ones. It was Branch..”Are you ok?”he asked knowing you weren’t. “I’m ok.” You said quickly dismissing his attempts of comfort. Before you could leave you heard a nickname you never knew you would hear again. “My sunflower?” He must’ve felt the tension he created so he hurried to you and begged you too listen to his explanations and excuses. You couldn’t do nothing, BUT listen so you gave him 3 minutes. “The reason I left was because Brozone was turning into a disaster and I needed to just space myself away for a while!”

You didn’t know whether to be mad or sad or HELL even glad but you knew he was trying to get you to understand. “But did you have to go?” Tears welling up..

Silence…….

“Did you have to leave me alone without telling me ANYTHING?!!?”

“I-“ you didn’t let him finish before you started walking off letting the emotions and realization sink in. He knew he fucked up… He couldn’t let you leave…. He needed his flower…He ran up to you and hugged you as hard as he could to prevent you from leaving and cried like hell was dragging him away from the heaven he created with you. “Sunflower PLEASE, I promise I’ll never leave you again!!” He repeated like his life depended on it. You slowly started to give in and soothed him. “Please Hun, I promise I’ll pro-“ He couldn’t even get done with his sentence before feeling the feeling he oh so missed….

Your lips…

“Please Don’t leave me again.” You said barely above a whisper and your teary E/C eyes looked at him.

He smiled warmly and responded with nothing but sincerity..”Of course not my sunflower.”

THE ENDDDDDDD☺️🫶🏿

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I'll come pick it up after pt.11

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Y/n starts to lose hope, but he and his silly mustache made her a promise...

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ mention of violence/ medical inaccuracies/ allusion to sex/ crying (joy)/

Word count: 1,4k

A/n: I can't watch Friday's episode because I watch it with my father and I'm away, so I'm just going to guess what's going to happen and pray for no spoilers. Again it's pure fiction so yeah. Thanks for all the like, the comments and the reblogs. I love reading what you have to say about my story. Love y'all :)

Weeks passed since she had the news that Bucky didn’t made it home. She was hoping to hear that he was coming back. But her hope was starting to fade, a small part of her still thought he was going to come home, and they could get married. Days past, she was thinking about him all the time, his smile, his mustache, his arms and his eyes. She wanted to remember his face, but even if she tried to forget him, it wouldn’t be possible. She loved him too much to forget him this easily. Harry Crosby was her best friend during this time of loneliness, him and Meatball tried to make her smile all the time. She spent time with the kids that were with the mechanics. One of them had lost a hand, so he had a metal hook, it didn’t bother him, he was making jokes about it, he was strong. Today was a normal day, it was the beginning of winter, so the temperature was colder than usual. She was in her uniform with a vest, to protect her from the cold. There was only one man in the hospital, he had lost his middle finger, and he needed to stay here so the nurses could make sure it didn’t get infected. She was checking his wound when Harry Crosby came rushing in. His eyes filled with a spark. ‘’Y/n, he’s back… Buck too’’ he said, smiling. She dropped the tool she was using; she didn’t believe him. Her heart filled with joy. ‘’Croz you better not be lying to me.’’ She warned, smiling. ‘’He’s here, Y/n, he came back.’’

He walked into the base like a champion, he made it back, with his best friend and the other soldiers that were captured. He still didn’t know how he managed to escape, but he did, that’s what was important. Men were cheering for him like he was the president of the United States. He was back home. ‘’Good to see you Bucky!’’ Rosie cheered as he hugged him. ‘’Good to be back Rosie!’’ he replied. John Egan was happy to see his friend, but only one person mattered: His future wife. When they heard Meatball bark, the men in front of Bucky stepped away, knowing he was always with the chief nurse, they wanted to let Bucky reunite with his girl in peace. Then he saw her, in her nurse uniform, her hair was a mess, probably from the running she just did. She stopped when she saw him, realizing that her pilot was back home. She breathed as joy tears fell off her eyes. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds before they both ran in the direction of the others. She jumped in his arms, hugging him like a koala. He hugged her so tightly he thought he was going to strangle her. ‘’You’re real, please tell me your real?’’ she whispered. ‘’I’m really here, darling, God, I’ve missed you!’’ he said. ‘’I love you too, John, I love you and don’t ever leave me again!’’ she said, kissing him.

God, he missed the feelings of her lips on his. They didn’t even care about the men cheering for him and his girl, about the men telling him to ‘’get a room’’ He came back for her. ‘’I love you too, darling’’ he mumbled against her lips. He noticed the ring she wore, his ring. He took it off her finger, she was confused, but when she saw him kneeling down on one knee, she understood. ‘’Y/n, my beautiful darling, will you marry me?’’ he asked, already knowing the answer. ‘’Yes, thousand time yes!’’ she said, kissing him as he put the ring back where it belonged. The men cheered and yelled their happiness. The feeling was euphoric, he just asked her to properly marry her, they were going to get married. When they stopped hugging, Y/n ran to Buck, she’d missed him too. He was one of her best friends. They became close, before he disappeared. ‘’Told you I’d protect him’’ he said, smiling. ‘’Shut up and hug me’’ she said, hugging him. ‘’Congratulations future Mrs. Egan’’ he said in her ear. ‘’You know your already the best men, right?’’ Bucky yelled. They both laughed as a Jeep approached. It was Crosby, with the nurses, because put the joy aside, the men were injured. Bucky had a black eye, it was swollen and had bleed, he was in bad shape. When Elodie came out of the Jeep, she ran towards Buck, hugging him and kissing him.

Bucky put his arms around his girl. ‘’Darling, I’ll need a doctor, they beat us up pretty badly’’ he confessed. ‘’I got Major Egan! Elodie, take care of Major Cleven, others, find yourself someone to heal’’ she ordered her nurses, making the Buck’s grin. They got in the Jeep and went back to the medical center. She still couldn’t believe he was alive, and she was engaged to him. Now she was going to treat his injuries. When they arrived at the medical centre, she guided him to her office. She needed privacy with him, not that she planned on having sex, but if it happened, they would be alone. When she closed the door, he roughly kissed her, he was eager for her, he needed her. ‘’Bucky, I need to look at your wounds’’ she says, giggling. ‘’All right, look at them’’ he said, taking his shirt off, in a seductive way. She looked at his chest, full of bruises, it was bad. ‘’What did they do to you?’’ she whispered. She touched the bruises, making him hiss in pain. ‘’You probably have broken ribs. Your face, well it’s just bruised. What did the pirate wanted?’’ she tried to joke. ‘’They wanted me to talk about you, and Buck, and all the secrets the army told. But I didn’t tell them anything’’ he said. ‘’That’s why they hit you?’’ she asked, cleaning his wounds. He nodded as he watched the nurse take care of him. ‘’I’m so happy you made it back, John, when I read your letter, I couldn’t believe you were… ‘’ she didn’t want to finish her sentence. ‘’Well, I’m here now, darling, and I love you, so much’’ he said, taking her face in his hands. ‘’I love you too, Bucky’’ she said, kissing him. ‘’Your ribs will heal, but slow down on the physical stuff’’ she said, seriously. ‘’I’m afraid I can’t slow down on one physical stuff in particular’’ he said, trailing his hands all over her body. She grins but tilt her head to the side. ‘’Bucky, don’t you’ll only hurt yourself more’’ she giggled. ‘’How much time do I need to lay off the physical stuff, darling?’’ he asked. ‘’4 weeks’’ she said. He shook his head. ‘’I can’t wait 4 weeks to have sex with you’’ he said. ‘’Well, you could piece your lung, and die, and I don’t want that. Maybe say 3 weeks, you heal fast’’ she said. ‘’All right, no sex for 3 weeks, but get ready, because I’m marring you in 3 weeks’’ he said. She smile and kiss him. ‘’If I stay on bed rest, can I make it 2 weeks?’’ he asks, making her laugh. ‘’We’ll see about that, Bucky’’ She was just happy he got back to her, in one piece

The last part ⬇️

[willyoubemycherryy]

ღ 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐..!!.__.𝚊_.-..𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏__𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜._𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙼𝚛 𝙴𝚐𝚊𝚗_.._𝚟𝚜.--__.𝙼𝚛𝚜.𝙴𝚐𝚊𝚗❤︎︎

-.__𝚠𝚑𝚘. .𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕_𝚠𝚒𝚗-!-?. . .

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜❥ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚐𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚖𝚏𝚊𝚘, 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢-𝚏𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕, ⚠︎︎MDNI⚠︎︎

“𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒊𝒕, 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒔, 𝑌𝑂𝑈’𝑅𝐸 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒄 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒚, 𝒆𝒚, 𝒆𝒚. . .”

. . . .

Breathe.

You just needed to stay hidden until you could figure something out.

It’s hot under the thick covers where you lay, flattening yourself into the bed as much as possible. Plain sight usually works best in buying time which you desperately need right now.

Holding your breath, you listen for any sound of him as your heart pounds so hard, you worry it’ll create an echo.

John ‘Bucky’ Egan.

World’s most troublesome lover.

Now, why were you hiding?

You were hiding out in fear of catching the same sickness your beloved Bucky did.

Baby fever.

He wasn’t too terrible at first. Rubbing your stomach a little more, asking more family related questions, etc….

Then came the slightly bolder suggestions.

About how you’re already his wife so; ‘don’t you wanna be my babymama too, bunny?’, and how sweet you’d look waddling with a round bump, to laying on his affections extra sweet, getting desserts and the like for you and saying it was to make sure you were “healthy” for “no reason in particular”.

Lastly, he’s decided to resort to seduction. You feel like tearing up at the unfairness of how hard it was to deny him but it was for his own good. The last time you two had sex; after dragging every kind of orgasm out of you to the point of his lower pelvis being wet from your release, he leant down to whisper sultrily against your lips,

“I want my babies to have your eyes.”

You’re ashamed to admit you came again with him after that.

You’ve been avoiding his prodding, contact, and anything else that might make you fold ever since. You even tried talking to him civilly about it before. That babies are serious, and that yes while you both are married, you just don’t think you two are ready for them yet.

Personally, you blame Rosie and his adorable newborn that his wife had brought to the base for the boys to see.

Of course, all of this is easier said than done because John Egan is nothing if not persistent.

You thought he was dangerous before? Comical.

His touches have gone from warm to scorching, all up on you for however many minutes he can get, purring out all the ways he could knock you up and see to it that you have a damn good time while he does before you’re slipping out of his arms to go do something, anything to not give in.

His mouth is worse too, as is the way he looks at you.

Heat rushing up your neck just thinking about it.

But you needed to be strong. For the both of you.

Especially since he’d been breathing down your neck since the morning….and it was wearing you down.

Starting from waking you with his hard body on yours, peppering wet kisses all over your stomach then up to your breasts, giving them a slow massage because, “let me treat you, doll. This way it’ll be better when they start making milk”, and delaying you from getting the hell out of dodge by distracting you with neck kisses. Based on wake-up call alone, you should’ve known he was going to drag you down or die trying.

The last straw was when you were in the boutique, trying on different heels and asking John which ones he liked best on you.

His answer almost made you blackout.

“They’re all pretty doll. But it’s not like you’ll need em’ with the way I’ll have you…bred and barefoot.”

After that, you decided it best to promptly take your asses home.

As soon as you close the door, John’s crowding you against it. Trailing his hands up your sides, his aftershave fills your nose making it that much harder to stay objective. But it’s for the greater good. Heart racing as your body heats up at his proximity, you brace yourself.

“Princess, please.”

Brace yourself for anything but that.

John as a man is above many things. When it comes to you though, the list of those things is significantly shorter. That is to say that when it comes to you, he is not above begging.

Leaning down to nose at your throat, he runs his hands down to grab your ass, rolling your lower body into his.

“Let’s make a baby. A baby would be good for us. You’d be such a good mama…and I’d take the best care of my girls”, kissing you slowly as you go lax in his hold.

Realizing how good he was about to get you, you drop to the floor, ducking around his legs and booking it upstairs.

“Sorrybutwearentreadyandihavethingstodothisisforyourowngoodloveyousexybyeee!”

Leading you to where you are now; waiting on the delicious inevitable.

It wasn’t that you never wanted kids, and it wasn’t because of John either. You just felt you two weren’t ready just yet.

You’re so lost in thought that by the time you register the feeling of his rough, warm fingers wrapping around your ankles, it’s already too late.

Shrieking bloody murder as John snatches you clean from under the covers and drops you right on top of the comforter, following after you.

“There she is.”

He smiles wolfishly down at you, interlocking your fingers, pinning them above your head.

The adrenaline makes you breathless, gasping when you try to move only to feel his body between your legs, keeping you there.

This might be it. You think as you feel that familiar ache creep over you after avoiding him for almost 3 weeks.

“No, you are staying right were I got you and fully intend on having you.” Gulping, you decide to go down like a man.

“And just what do you want to have me for?” John’s low chuckle sends spikes of both arousal and anticipation through your system.

“Now now, don’t be coy. But, if you want me to spell it out for you I’d be more than happy to oblige…” Christ. “John, dearest, we aren’t ready.”

“We are. Why do you keep running from me, insisting that we’re not?” The insecurity creeping into his voice makes your heart stop cold.

“It’s just…what if you can’t be here? What if something, somewhere, more important than us, needs you?” It’s not him, and no matter what may happen, you need him to know that first and foremost.

“You’d be the best daddy but it’s just the ‘what if’s’ that I don’t wanna commit to…”

John listens thoughtfully before nodding, “Nothing is more important than you. The world can wait because it wouldn’t even exist to me without you in it. So, put a little faith in me. I’ll be here…for both of you.”

He leans down to kiss you tenderly, groaning at the way you open up so eagerly for him. Kissing back just as feverishly as your hands feel all over him, wet in record time.

Switching from sucking on his tongue, to his bottom lip, you pull away to look at him.

Bucky really was beautiful. Daydreamy, dark, onyx colored hair, storm tide blue eyes, high cheekbones, strong jawline and a wonderfully devilish mouth.

“That’s a yes right, bunny? Because I’m so ready that if you kiss me, you’ll get pregnant.” You laugh incredulously but he’s not playing.

“Wow, spoken like a true poet. Yes Bucky, It’s a yes-’’, the words don’t even make it all the way out and the rest is a blur as Bucky’s clothes seem to vanish and yours are all but ripped off your body with Bucky suckling wet kisses all over any skin exposed.

He wastes no time manhandling you onto your stomach, watching your slick drip down your thigh, cursing with furrowed brows.

“Goddamn, you’re sopping mama. Waitin’ for daddy to breed you up, yeah?”, he growls out, landing a hard smack to your ass.

Holy fucking shit. Gasping sharply at the sting his heavy palm leaves behind.

Your body is so hot at this point that it makes your eyes water while you whine and moan brokenly, whimpering out a weak “yes”.

Smoothing his hands up your naked body, John presses one on your back to deepen your arch and the other hand down to play with your twitching clit.

“Yes what doll?”

“…y-yes daddy”, voice small from embarrassment but you’re too turned on to even think about smart mouthing him. Legs shaking as he stretches you out with 3 of his thick fingers, thumbing your clit, moving closer behind you.

“That’s right…and you aren’t leaving this room until I’m sure you’ve made me one.”

♡︎ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏʟʟᴀʀ😌

[rangerelizabeth]

Here’s a little Halloween drabble set the next October of my if it feels like love (college au) universe for your Sunday night. No plot, just pure fluff. Hope you enjoy it!

You put a spell on me

Prompts: Horror movies, sleepovers, sharing a blanket

Word count: 2336

[AO3 Link]

Gale is traipsing down the stairs from his bedroom when he hears his favorite voice call out “I’m here!” followed by the sound of the front door falling shut. He’d been lying in bed flipping through a textbook for his Quantum Physics class when the familiar sound of John’s truck rumbling into the driveway had him throwing off his blankets to go greet his boyfriend.

By the time he arrives at the bottom of the staircase, John is already sprawled out on his back on one of the couches in the living room, chatting with Curt who’s seated across from him with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. Honestly, with the way John immediately walks into the house and makes himself at home every time he comes over, one would think it’s John that lives there instead of him, Gale thinks amusedly.

John looks up as Gale draws closer, greeting him with a soft smile. Gale returns the fond look before sprawling completely on top of John on the couch, pressing his face into his shoulder.

John lets out a chuckle. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” Gale returns contentedly, voice muffled by John’s sweatshirt.

“Happy Halloween,” John says, bringing a hand up to scratch absentmindedly at the back of Gale’s hair.

Gale hums at the touch. “Happy Halloween.”

“Yeah, yeah. Happy Halloween, you lovebirds,” Curt says exasperatedly from across the coffee table. “I’m going to get everything ready in the kitchen.”

Gale hears shuffling as Curt presumably rises from the couch to head into the kitchen to “get everything ready.” By that, Gale assumes he means pouring the candy they bought earlier in the week into a bowl in case trick-or-treaters stop by, popping a couple of bags of popcorn for their impending Halloween horror movie night, and most importantly, avoiding third wheeling with Gale and John until Ken and Rosie get home from the gym.

Gale shifts his head to look up at John, who he finds already smiling down at him. “How was your day?”

“The usual. Class, homework, another class,” John says with a shrug, jostling Gale a little where he still rests atop him. “I’m excited for tonight, though.”

Gale snorts. “‘Course you are, you love horror movies. Me on the other hand…”

John laughs, squeezing Gale a little tighter for a moment. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”

Just then, Ken and Rosie burst through the front door, chatting animatedly and dressed in sweat-marked tank tops despite the chill of late October. Gale finally sits up from his place blanketing John to greet them. Then, Curt emerges from the kitchen to greet Ken with a brief kiss before sternly instructing the two of them to go shower so they can get started with their movie night.

As Ken and Rosie go to their respective rooms to clean up, Curt brings the snacks in from the kitchen while Gale and John gather every blanket and pillow in the house and deposit them onto the couches. They dim the lights and plop down onto the couches, Gale and John cozying up under a blanket together in the corner of the sofa they had been on earlier, while Curt stretches out across from them once more as they wait for the other two boys.

John and Curt gush enthusiastically about the lineup of horror movies that Curt and Ken apparently picked out for them, and Gale listens in disdain. He’s never been one for horror movies, flinching at all the jump scares and sleeping with the lights on afterwards every time he’s watched one.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Gale jumps a little, already feeling keyed up at the prospect of the night ahead. Pressed up against him, John feels the movement and chuckles softly. “You freaked out already, baby? We haven’t even started the movies yet.”

Gale huffs. “I told you I’m not a fan of horror movies,” he grumbles.

“Must be trick-or-treaters,” Curt says, hopping up from the couch. “I’ll get it.”

After Curt grabs the bowl of candy from the coffee table, making his way into the foyer, John turns to Gale, ducking his head a little to meet his eyes. “You know you don’t have to watch these if you really don’t want to, right?” John asks. “We can always beg off to your room and do something else.”

“Something else, huh?” Gale jokes suggestively, bumping his shoulder against John’s.

John laughs, rolling his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant—”

“I know,” Gale interrupts, smiling softly. “But I’ll be okay with the movies, I promise. I want to hang out with everyone.”

Finally, just as Curt returns from giving out candy, Ken joins them in the living room, now dressed in warmer clothes and his curly hair still damp from his shower. Rosie enters a few minutes later, settling into the other corner of the couch as Curt and Ken.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” Rosie exclaims, clapping his hands together anticipatorily.

“Which one should we start with?” Ken asks excitedly. “Chucky? Annabelle? Or maybe Insidious?”

As John, Curt, and Rosie jump in to offer their suggestions of which movie they should watch first from the lineup, Gale stays quiet. Curt apparently notices, because he shushes everyone else before asking, “Gale, what do you think?”

Gale blinks in uncertainty. “Um, whichever one is the least scary?”

Rosie laughs. “Chucky it is then, I think.”

They start the movie, Gale snuggling further into John’s side under their blanket, who wraps a strong arm around him. For a few short moments, he’s content with John’s body pressed warm against his, safety and security flooding his veins like they always do when he’s in the other boy’s presence.

But soon enough, he’s flinching at every little jump scare in the movie and squeezing his eyes shut whenever something gory happens on screen. John must be able to feel how tense he is, because he pries one of Gale’s hands from where he’s caught the blanket in a death grip, clasping it gently in his own. John’s other hand rubs soothing circles into Gale’s shoulder, and he relaxes the tiniest fraction.

Gale tilts his head up to look at John, who ducks down to press a quick kiss to his lips. A smile tugs at Gale’s mouth, and for a brief moment, he finds himself forgetting about the movie.

And yet, when he settles back down against John’s shoulder, eyes returning to the television, he’s met with the visual of someone getting murdered, blood and gore filling the screen. He cringes, turning to press his face into John’s chest, who holds him a little tighter.

Over the sound of the movie emanating loudly from the speakers, Gale hears someone laugh. He thinks it’s Rosie. Sure enough comes Rosie’s teasing voice. “You alright there, Gale?”

Gale shifts his head to glare across the room at the other boy. Next to Rosie, he sees Curt and Ken watching him in shared amusement too.

“Don’t worry, Gale. John will protect you from the big bad monsters, won’t you, John?” Curt ribs them playfully.

“Shut it, Curt,” John rebuts with an eye roll, though he’s clearly teasing too. Then, he drops his mouth right next to Gale’s ear to whisper, “I will, though.”

Gale’s heart flutters, and he decides to ignore the teasing from their friends, just pressing a grateful kiss against John’s shoulder instead.

The doorbell rings then, likely more trick-or-treaters, and Gale jumps at the opportunity to escape the horror movie for a couple of minutes. “I can get it this time.”

“Want us to pause the movie for you?” Ken asks.

Gale shakes his head. “Definitely not,” he says emphatically, which earns him a few chuckles from his friends.

“I’ll come with you,” John offers, so Gale grabs the candy bowl and they head for the front door together.

When Gale pulls open the door, they’re met by the sight of a smiling group of children dressed in elaborate costumes who simultaneously exclaim, “Trick or treat!” When he looks past them, he sees their parents waiting a little further down the driveway, clearly keeping their distance to let their kids have fun while still maintaining a close eye on them.

John crouches down to meet the kids’ level, and Gale watches fondly as he starts talking to one of them kindly. “Who do we have here? Spider-Man?”

The little boy dressed in blue and red nods enthusiastically before pretending to shoot a web at John from the plastic costume web-shooters on his wrists. Gale’s heart swells with affection as John plays along, falling backwards dramatically. “Whoah! You got me!”

The boy giggles happily as Gale begins dropping handfuls of candy into all of the children’s awaiting candy bags. Once they’ve all gotten their candy, each with a polite little “thank you,” they run excitedly down the driveway back to their parents. Gale shuts the door softly behind him, turning to face John who has since gotten to his feet.

His thoughts must be written all over his face, because John tilts his head curiously. “What?”

“I love you,” Gale says honestly. “You were so good with them. That was adorable.”

John smiles softly, tugging him closer by the hand. “I love you too.”

Gale lets his forehead drop gently against John’s as he looks into the other boy’s expressive, dark blue eyes, before tilting his chin up to meet John’s lips in a sweet, unhurried kiss. They stay there for a moment, not even the faint sounds of the television and their friends chatter coming from the living room interrupting their little bubble, instead just remaining entirely wrapped up in one another.

Finally they part, smiling fondly at one another until John breaks the comfortable silence. “I can't wait for the day when we greet trick-or-treaters at a house of our own,” he confesses quietly.

Gale’s stomach swoops with happy butterflies. Though they’ve been together for almost a year now and have even gone so far as talking about marriage before, it never fails to put Gale on cloud nine whenever John mentions their future together.

“That could be us, standing at the end of the driveway together one day, too,” Gale says shyly.

“You mean like… taking our kids trick-or-treating?” John asks slowly.

The questioning tone in John’s voice makes Gale suddenly wish he could rewind time and undo his words. Neither of them have mentioned kids before, and he’s not sure that bringing it up for the first time on Halloween while they’re supposed to be hanging out with their friends was the most logical move.

He can feel the heat creeping onto his cheeks in nervousness and embarrassment, but there’s really nothing to be done besides owning up to his words, so he gives a small nod. For a moment, John just stares at him in wonder.

“Yeah, that sounds even better than my plan,” he finally breathes out, as if in mild disbelief, before kissing Gale soundly.

When they finally return to the living room—lips kiss-reddened and swollen, with happy grins painting both of their faces—they pointedly ignore the jests from their friends about what took them so long, in favor of settling back under their fluffy blanket on the couch.

Gale notices that they’ve moved on to the next movie, Annabelle or Insidious or something like that, but finds that he’s still riding the high of his and John’s conversation in the foyer, far too happy to feel as scared as he did before. He still flinches a little at a couple of the jump scares, but doesn’t have to hide away in John’s chest anymore just to avoid looking at the television screen.

Two more movies, a whole lot of popcorn, and some Halloween cookies courtesy of Ken’s surprisingly good baking skills later, they all decide to call it a night. Gale is thankful that it’s a Friday, with none of them having to worry about getting up early for classes the next day, as he tugs John upstairs with him to his bedroom.

Once ready for bed, they cuddle in close together under Gale’s covers, the room blanketed in darkness. Gale’s head is pillowed on John’s chest, with both of the other boy’s arms wrapped snugly around his shoulders. He’s immensely comfortable, yet finds he can’t drift off to sleep.

Despite his nerves easing about the horror movies after greeting the trick-or-treaters downstairs, it suddenly feels like they’ve returned in full force. Every little noise in the quiet of the room sets his hair standing on end. There’s a thump from downstairs, and it’s likely just Curt or Ken moving around, but Gale startles at the sudden noise anyway.

“You okay?” John murmurs sleepily, eyes still closed. If Gale had to guess, the other boy had almost been asleep before his flinch pulled him from his dozing.

Gale bites his lip in contemplation before deciding to fess up, pride be damned. “I guess I’m still just a little freaked out from those movies.”

John blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting at Gale through the darkness. “Want me to check the closet for ghosts before we go to sleep?” he teases.

Gale rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Or how about under the bed?”

“I’ll kick you out if you keep that up,” Gale threatens.

Despite his feigned annoyance at the teasing, it’s a clear attempt on John’s part to lighten the mood and get Gale’s mind off the movies, and for that, he’s extremely grateful.

“Really though, are you okay?” John asks, his tone serious now and concern evident in his eyes.

Gale nods against John’s chest. “Yeah, I’m okay. As long as you’re here.”

John’s arms tighten around him, and Gale feels a feather-light kiss placed on the top of his head. He lets his eyes fall shut, love and contentment flooding every inch of his body, leaving no room for any residual fear.

“I’m here,” John says softly. “I’ll always be here.”

[featherandferns]

pirates : where are they now?

jj maybank x bestfriend!fem!reader

word count: 1.5k.

read pirates | Thank you so so much for 1000 followers!!! Since starting this blog in May of 2023, I have written so many characters and storylines. I get so many lovely anon messages telling me about their favourite universes and wondering what happens next after my fics have ended. So, I thought to celebrate 1000 followers, I’d indulge. Here’s the (current) where are they now for all of my fics so far…

The route to Pirate’s Cove was as familiar to you as the smell of grass and the taste of orange juice. It was as familiar as the feel of JJ’s hand in yours, fingers intertwined just as your lives had been since you were children. In your spare hand you carry an old blanket and in his, he carries a cooler loaded with snacks and seltzers. The birds chirp from trees and there’s the distant rustling of bushes and shrubs hinting of critters lurking. It’s likely that gators bathe in the watery swamps that you pass by but you seem to have finally outgrown your fear. Maybe that’s just JJ’s effect on you, though. He always makes you feel safe. 

The transition from friends to lovers was only slightly rocky at first as the two of you found your footing. It felt different changing from referring to one another as ‘friend’ to ‘babe’. It felt almost too easy not to turn when the other was changing though. But none of it was weird or bad, just different. The Pogues had taken your relationship easily. You assumed that most saw it coming from a mile away. That’s what your parents said when you filled them in on yours and JJ’s situation. Of course, the conversation with your parents then nicely bled into the always painful ‘safe sex’ talk. 

Now, a year in, you could hardly remember a time when JJ wasn’t your entire world. Can hardly fathom not looking to him as your rock, your shelter and your light. Can hardly comprehend him being your dorky best friend instead of your dorky boyfriend. 

“Alright, I got one,” JJ says, “that time when you convinced John B that girls shed their balls at the age of five.”

You immediately crack up, the memory flashing back to you. As you laugh, you feel JJ squeeze your hand just that slightest bit tighter. Something about it makes your smile grow. 

“Oh my God, the look of pure horror on his face,” you giggle. 

“Swear to God, that’s the most shit-scared I ever seen him,” JJ chuckles, shaking his head at the memory. 

“Don’t know why he was acting like I was about to yank his nuts off him,” you snort. 

JJ groans at the visual. “Great. Now all I can think about is John B’s balls. Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” you tease, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure. 

As the journey of reminiscing comes to a close, the two of you approach Pirate’s Cove. The ivy had grown unruly over the years, creating a type of canopy that led into the opening of the cove. Moss covered rocks and water kissed stones; wildflowers and overgrown shrubs; logs for frogs and toads to bask and layers of leaves for critters to call home. The smell of damp soil and pollinated greenery submerges you in memories. As if sharing a thought, the two of you take a pause and look it all over. It felt like a lifetime since you’d returned to the cove. Things have become busy and, quite frankly, chaotic in life lately. The jovial search for treasure revealed some rather dark corners of John B’s life. Now you were lucky to spend your days not running from one square grouper or another. But here, in Pirate’s Cove, the two of you feel safe from the worries of the world. Safe from JJ’s ever angry father. Safe from the madness that came with searching for the Royal Merchant. 

This is where you beat JJ in countless imaginary sword fight. This is where you shared your first kiss, rosy cheeked and puppy-fat faced. This is where you first introduced John B to the sacred hideaway. This is where you realised that maybe you liked JJ a little more than just a friend. The years pass you by like scenes of a show, and each rerun fills you with a melancholic joy of times been and gone. 

“Rope swing’s still here,” JJ observes, bringing your attention to it. 

You smile. “Yep. Still here.”

He finds a comfortable spot near the water, still dry on land, and dumps the cooler. You follow his lead and lay out the blanket and the two of you settle side by side. It’s second nature to rest your head against his upper chest. It’s second nature for him to slip his fingers into yours atop of the blanket. With his free hand he retrieves two cans, cracks them open, and hands one to you. 

“Well,” he hums, sounding somewhat nervous, “happy anniversary.”

“One year down, smelly,” you muse.

You clink the lip of your can against his and the two of you sip the icy cool beverage, eyes fixated on the babbling creek. As your eyes slip shut, soaking in the moment, you decide this is happiness. This is bliss. This is your sanctuary and if heaven is real, this is where you hope you’ll find yourself. Sacred ground that only yourself, JJ and John B knew of. But even still, John B knew this was your place more than his. He never went alone - never without yourself and JJ. Kiara and Pope were oblivious to the cove. A crossed heart promise is paramount to keep. 

As the day ticks on, you remain resting with your head on JJ’s warm, muscle-tee clad chest, him on his back, both of you drifting between sleep and wake. From time to time, he threads his fingers in your hair and toys. When a thought passes through one of your heads, you share it, and the other usually hums in agreement or acknowledgement. It’s light and easy and comfortable. 

“I’m fucking hot,” JJ announces. 

“Wanna go for a swim?” you wonder, glancing to the water. 

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees, already shifting.

You remove your head from his stomach and the two of you get to your feet. He strips off his shirt and you do the same. Living in Kildare meant living in swimsuits rather than underwear most of the time; it saved the hassle of changing when you inevitably ended up in water. JJ lingers as he waits for you to step out your shorts and the moment you realise, is the moment your childish mind conjures the idea. 

Sighing, you place your hands on your waist and look to the water. You’re happily aware that his attention is on your body. One year into this thing and you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of having JJ look at you like that. 

“It’s probably gonna be cold,” you say. 

“Probably,” JJ agrees. 

“Mhm,” you hum, pretending to have second thoughts. You glance away from the water and check out the cove. “I’m just thinking–”

“Yeah?”

Your grin gives you away, moments before you blurt, “last one there has to clean the truck!”

You take off into a sprint towards the water, hearing JJ’s cussing behind you as he follows. His hands grab at your waist, pulling you back, fighting you away. Through your laughter, you try to squirm out of his hold. It’s no use though: he’s too strong. He picks you up as if you’re a bag of chips and tosses you over his shoulder. You screech and holler and giggle like crazy, gently slapping his back as he crashes into the water. Then you’re unwillingly dunked under the surface. 

You break back to air and shove your wet hair off your face. JJ is lounging in the water, laughing like crazy. You waste no time in lurching yourself at him, battling him down until he’s submerged. He gladly brings you along and under the water, and you feel as if you’re in another world. His hands trace up your arms, onto your shoulders, until one finds purchase on your jawline. You brave opening your eyes and can make out his face through blurry vision, a smile on his sunkissed features, blonde hair fanning out in the water. He guides your lips to his and kisses you until both of you have no choice but to return to the surface for a breath of air. When you do, JJ keeps his hands on your body, coaxing you near to him, not letting you drift apart. His forehead rests against your own. 

“I love you,” JJ quietly says. 

“I love you too,” you return. The words come as easy as air to the lungs. 

“Crossing this line was the best thing we ever did,” he tells you, pulling back far enough to meet your gaze. He tucks a strand of wet hair behind your ears. “Pretty risky move since we could’ve, you know, ruined like nine years of friendship.”

You bite back your laugh and squint jokingly. “Meh, we were never that close anyway.”

Rolling his eyes, JJ pecks your lips. Just as he pulls back, your fingers latch into the tethers of his hair at the back of his neck, keeping him near. 

“Nu-uh, smelly. Better kiss me like you mean it.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

[jrow]

May Prompts (29)

Day 28 here. Start from the beginning here. Day 30 here.

Hero

John Watson is nothing short of a hero.

Doctor. Writer. Veteran.

He will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life.

He is not a hero.

Junkie. Sociopath. Freak.

That John would choose him for a friend is unfathomable. That John could want more, entirely out of the realm of possibility.

It does not compute. It cannot have happened.

Currently, John is looking at him, concern etched on his features.

“Are you okay, Sherlock? You fainted.”

“No, that doesn’t seem right.”

The worry on John’s face morphs into a smile. “Who’s the doctor here?”

He furrows his brow. Perhaps he did faint. Perhaps he hit his head. Perhaps that’s why he hallucinated the conversation with John. But then he sees the gift. “You gave me a Yamaha SV250. And a case decorated with Rosie’s handprint.”

“Err … yes? I mean yes, I did.”

“That doesn’t seem right. Because that means you want to move back. With Rosie.”

The smile gets bigger. “Yes.”

“And this would entail sleeping in my bed. With me. Presumably.”

“Presumably.” And now John looks like the cat that got the canary.

“And I fainted?”

“When I tell everyone the story later, I may use the term swoon.”

His eyes snap to John’s. “You want to tell everyone?”

John’s smile softens. “Yeah, quite badly, actually. I want to move in. I want to sleep in your bed. And I want to tell everyone. Not that anyone will be all that surprised.”

None of this makes sense. “But you … you are … you’re a war hero!” he sputters.

John knits his brow. “I don’t think that’s true and I don’t see how it’d be relevant even if it was.”

“Of course it’s relevant!” he says, sitting up. “War heroes don’t raise families with sociopaths!”

John sighs fondly, reaching out and touching his arm. “It’s a good thing you aren’t a sociopath then.” A pause. “You know, I was just thinking how beautiful protagonists don’t usually end up with minor side characters.”

He scoffs. John can be such a fool sometimes. “I am the not the protagonist, John. I wasn’t even in the story until you came along.”

John chuckles and stands, before reaching out a hand to help him up. “ Well, I am certainly not the protagonist. So who does that leave?”

They both reflexively look up when they hear the sound of tiny feet hitting the ground. A couple seconds later comes the loud squeak of the upstairs door.

“Lock, play!” Rosie yells at the top of her lungs. The speed at which that girl can go from fast asleep to boundless energy is staggering.

John sighs and looks at his watch. “Right on schedule, I suppose. Busy day means short nap.”

“You go lie down, I am the one being summoned,” he says. Despite his fainting/swooning a moment ago, John is the one who needs to rest. He coughs and feels heat rising in his cheeks. “Lie down in … our bed?”

John looks at him with an expression that can only be described as adoration. “Okay, but can I make one request before you go see to the princess upstairs?”

He nods, slowly. Fairly certain, and fairly terrified, of what’s coming.

“Can I kiss you now?”

He nods again. And then, without hesitation, John kisses him. It’s slow and soft and like he’s something precious. And it is terrifying, but in the best possible way.

He’s still not 100% sure this isn’t a hallucination.

He closes his eyes and returns the kiss.

John Watson is nothing short of a hero.

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty @quimerasyutopias

[bcolfanfic]

for @magneticghouls for the @hbowardaily summer exchange <3 little rosie pov clegan post war thingy-do ☀️

“So, you know I have to ask, Buck.”

Rosie didn’t look at him when he spoke, picking at a splinter coming up from the wood on the arm of the rocker.

He supposed he didn’t have to ask either. But maybe it would help. Gale seemed like he was walking on eggshells from the moment he opened the door, slight stutter in his voice when he greeted him.

Now, Gale hummed under his breath, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before he spoke.

“How do I know you aren’t gonna turn us in?”

Rosie stopped his rocker abruptly, the chair squeaking as his back straightened.

“Why the hell would I do that?”

His eyebrows furrowed as the words left his mouth in rapid succession. And his confusion was honest. Sure he didn’t quite understand. But he wouldn’t- couldn’t do that. Not to anyone, he didn’t think.

Least of all to them.

He knew before he decided to swing by- had known since his last late night walk around Thorpe Abbotts after the war.

Since he startled hearing a noise from the patch of trees. And starled again when he did some light investigating, making out what he could surmise was the two of them doing something he knew in some sort of abstract that two men could do together.

Gale didn’t say anything for a long few minutes, tapping his foot against the paneling of the porch, rubbing his hand on his knee.

“Had a close call, a few months ago.” He said quietly- eventually, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Reconnected with a friend I knew growing up. Was nice, until he dropped by once in the morning unexpectedly, and it- it was obvious. We’d just woken up,” He continued. “John- thought it was someone else, answered the door not thinkin’, not wearing a shirt.”

He chuckled under his breath then, but not in a way that made Rosie feel like he should laugh too. His voice trembled, and saw Gale’s throat bob as he swallowed and took a breath before he kept going.

“He panicked- just, just, bolted . I’m standing there in the hallway, trying to think of something to say and this guy flips. Knocked a glass off the table, making all this racket. He said he was going to turn us in and I- I asked if there was anything, anything I could do that would change his mind.”

His grip tightened on the arm of his rocker, and Rosie felt the tension mirroring in his own hand against the wood.

“‘s why we haven’t fixed the downstairs bathroom yet. Had money put away for it, till then.” He continued, looking off.

“John still gets real freaked out about it, tells me I should reach back out to him-, offer him more money. But my theory is that it’s better I don’t go reminding him what happened.”

Gale looked at Rosie then, and he realized he was round about being asked for his opinion on the matter.

“I think,” He started, pausing for a moment, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. “I agree with you. Best not to poke the bear, I’d say.”

Gale looked satisfied with that at least, letting out a small sigh- and Rosie’s chest hurt.

There was a lot he didn’t understand, questions he knew weren’t his business to ask for answers to.

But he felt as though he understood whatever this was better than he could wrap his head around how someone could ruin someone’s life over something so mundane.

“You had a question didn’t you?”

Gale pulled him out of his head, Rosie opening and closing his mouth twice before he found his voice.

“Think you answered it.” He said. “But another one then. You two are happy- as much as you can be?”

Gale opened his mouth to answer, but they were interrupted by a truck pulling up the driveway.

Tensing for a moment, he squinted- and his shoulders relaxed when he realized it was indeed Bucky. His cheeks lifted when he smiled, eyes softer than they had been during the previous conversation.

John climbed out when the vehicle pulled to a stop, leaving what he’d gone to the store for in the car in the interest of getting to Gale first. He didn’t seem to see Rosie until he was just about right in front of him, pausing on the last step up the porch, glancing between the two of them.

Rosie figured a smile and nod would answer the question he saw in his eyes. But Bucky just looked between the two men a second time, arms crossed, scratching his thumbnail against his shoulder.

He could see it in his face then, what Gale had said about how he hadn’t shaken off the incident. There was a cloud of wariness in his eyes, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth.

Gale beckoned him to come closer and he did, skittish still when he approached him. He reached forward to uncross his arms, gently grabbing his wrist and rubbing the underside of it with his thumb.

He looked at John in a way that seemed the communicate what he was going for when his features relaxed. Giving him a little nod, John let Gale move the hand on his wrist up his arm, allowing him to tug him a little closer.

Continuing to watch them made Rosie feel like ought to look away- like he was intruding on something just as much as he had that night on base.

But he found it hard, glancing at the field in front of them for only a moment before his eyes fell back to where Bucky had leaned down into Gale’s space, face pressed against the side of his head. Gale was whispering something just quiet enough that Rosie couldn’t make it out, but John laughed softly against his blonde hair, bringing a hand up to ruffle it as he pulled back.

He backtracked to get the shopping from the truck after a minute, and Gale’s eyes didn’t leave him.

When he seemed to notice he was being watched, his cheeks flushed, and Gale scratched the back of his neck with a shy smile at his lap.

Rosie supposed that answered his question.

[blixabargelds]

Please number 12 Please!

thank youuuu i’m going to do this for superstar (punk au) because i want to and without the reams of context it may seem ooc to stick gale on tons of drugs but trust me on this one. also it’s my sandpit. this is kind of an outtake from his 25th birthday~~

¹²⁾ “can we- can we just stay here, like this, for a minute? please?”

“Buck, baby, come out.”

Gale looks at John’s feet. Battered Docs, one fraying yellow lace, one black. The ragged cuffs of his dark jeans. They pace the room up and down- the motion like a pendulum. Like a metronome. Gale breathes and listens to his racing heart. Music thuds through the closed door.

“I like it here,” Gale says.

“Huh?”

“I said I like it down here,” Gale repeats, louder.

John’s feet slow to a stop in front of the bed. Gale hears him sigh, before his knees come into view, then his hands, then his kind, smiling face as he gets on all fours.

“You’re missin’ your party, baby.”

Gale knows this. His fingertips have gone numb. His lips are tingling, his heart going thump-thump-thump. He can’t seem to get enough air into his lungs. John’s smile falters, and he flattens himself out, lying parallel just outside the bed, Gale still tucked underneath it. John’s fingers reach out to brush his arm.

“What’d you take, Buck?”

Gale squeezes his eyes shut. His ribs feel too tight. “Just coke.”

“Yeah?”

Gale bites his lip. He nods his head. Then shakes it against the floor, the rough weave of their bedroom rug scratching against his face. The tingling in his lips has spread to his nose, making it itch. He can’t quite feel his ears. He wonders, then, if he can ever feel his ears.

“Hey, Buck,” John says. His voice is more urgent, and when Gale opens his eyes to look at him his brows are drawn close. “Just coke, yeah?”

Gale’s teeth don’t fit. “I don’t know,” he breathes. “I think so. I don’t know. I don’t know. Bucky, I can’t feel my ears.”

“Neither me, doll,” John says. He edges closer, half his body under the bed with him. “Who gave it to you?”

Gale tries to remember. He found it, he thinks. In someone’s hung up coat pocket. The tingling is in his arms now, weighing them down and tickling. Gale thinks of the awful reverb Rosie can make his guitar sing. He thinks of white noise.

“Are there bugs on me?”

“No, sweetheart,” John says. He brushes a strand of hair back from Gale’s eyes, tucking it behind his ear. Gale would’ve done it, but his hands won’t move. “There’s no bugs on you.”

“Hm,” Gale says. The music changes to something faster. Something smashes in their kitchen, making him flinch. “John, I don’t want them.”

John’s looking at him like he isn’t making sense. Gale doesn’t know why he can’t see them. “Who, Buck?”

“The bugs,” Gale whispers.

John frowns. Hesitates for a second. “Tell you what, baby. You come out and drink some water, and I’ll make sure they’re all gone, how’s that?”

Gale considers this. He nods again, unsure if he can move himself, but John does it for him either way. His face lights up as he backs out from the shelter of the bed, extending his hands for Gale to take and hauling him upward. He sits him on the edge of the mattress, handing him a glass of water. Gale takes it shakily. Tries a few sips. It tastes like gasoline, and whatever liquor John dumped out to repurpose the glass. He grimaces, keeps drinking it slowly. John moves to sit behind him, knees bracketing Gale’s hips as he starts to pick through his hair. Gale smiles something small and fragile.

“What’re you doin’?”

“Checking for bugs,” John says at the shell of Gale’s ear. His breath tickles Gale’s neck, making him laugh.

“Actin’ like I got fleas.”

“Woof,” John says, pressing a kiss to the pulse at the side of Gale’s throat. He realises, then, that it’s slowed a little. “You’re all clear, doll. Bug free. Promise.”

Gale nods. He leans into John’s chest, tipping his head back against his shoulder. His breath comes easier. In, then out, mechanical but working. The tingling’s faded.

“Can we just stay here?” he sighs. “Like this, for a minute? Please.”

“Sure thing, birthday boy,” John whispers into his hair. “You want your present now?”

Gale blinks. Presses his fingertips up against his chest and checks in with the speed of his heart. “You got more?”

“What? Jesus, Buck, no. Slow down. I was gonna suck you off.”

“Oh,” Gale says. He’s fairly sure he has his own coke left, anyway. Or whoever’s he found. John’s hand travels up under his shirt, then down to the front of his jeans, palming him lazily and making him hum. “Sure. Go on then.”

[leosficlist]

POST S-4 Getting Together

These fics are about their relationship Post Season 4, which could include apologies and fix-its, or simply fics which acknowledged the events of S4!

Post S4 pt2, Post S4 pt3

Bridges by sussexbound 🔒6.6k words

The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

Nocturne by Atiki 6.6k words

All the most important conversations happen at night.

holding steady by darcylindbergh 12.7k words

“Sitting on a thick wool blanket at the end of a rickety dock side-by-side, legs dangling over the edge, a styrofoam container of wet, dark dirt between them, they’re fishing.”

John knows what this is about. This is about finally figuring it out.

notes: post-everything, no eurus mention, getting away for the weekend

Finally Home by LondonSpirit 🔒 3.5k words

“After the final problem is solved, after everything's resolved, and Sherlock and John have returned to a more or less ordinary life, there's only one ting left to do.

But can they eventually admit what everyone else already knew for a long time, or are they still too blind to see?”

Sehnsucht by unicornpoe 14.7k

Sehnsucht: longing, pining, yearning, craving, intensely missing. An individual’s search for happiness while coping with the reality of unattainable wishes.

John is here now, yes, yes he is. He and Rosie are back home in 221B with Sherlock, safe where they belong... but why is there still a hole deep inside Sherlock, wide and gaping and consuming? Does John feel it too? And what will it take to fill it?

Alternative Facts by SwissMiss 🔒10k words

It was so nice to see they'd finally got things sorted. After all they'd been through, they deserved to be happy. (Or: Five times people imagined what John and Sherlock get up to in the bedroom, and one time we see what they really get up to.)

Six Dates by AvaWtsn 7.4k

A rather accidental 5+1 written for the prompt "is this a date?" Hint: it is.

notes: the first 6 fridays after John moves back in

Whisper To Me by Chrysanthemumsies 20.7k words

Sherlock picks up playing the guitar. John falls more and more in love with every passing day.

notes: John struggling with his feelings, slowly creeping together

Questions and Answers by Pipmer 3.1k

It was useless. What was the point? No amount of talking was ever going to change that John wasn’t interested, and never would be. The only way he would be tempted to pull up house again would be if the practical advantages were enormous, and they just weren’t. Why else would he even consider it?

notes: Sherlock wants John & Rosie to move back in

Once Upon A Time by darcylindbergh 6.5k

It starts with a wish.

In the beginning, John comes home.

notes: fluffy soft warm

Getting On With It by StarlightandFireflies 8k words

“What is it?” Sherlock finally asked, staring into his tea. “Nothing,” John said quickly. After all, he could hardly just come out and say the truth: It’s just hit me again, all this. I’ve realized I’m here, and you’re here, and for some reason you don’t hate me, and yet I’ve got no bloody idea where to go from here.  I want to do right by you but it’s hitting me as if for the first time that I’ve no clue how to do that, even though it’s what you deserve. Rated M for chapter 2

notes: "your heart's always been in the right place" "for you John, yes"

Negative Space by Standbygo 8.8k words

John takes a drawing class, but drawing Sherlock has unexpected results.

notes: John’s in therapy, Sherlock goes to John’s art show

Home by liriodendron 2.9k words

Sherlock opens his mouth to ask how he can make the pain go away, but he realizes halfway through that he doesn't know how one asks such a thing, so the only word that escapes his lips is, "John..."

There is a sharp intake of breath at his name, and then John says in a voice like a broken radio, "Take me home, Sherlock."

notes: sex for comfort post-mary's death

Out Of The Woods by SilentAuror

Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

notes: pining Sherlock, miscommunications, then oodles of fluff, love confessions, virginlock, john plots a romantic date

[velvet4510]

I guess I’m one of those weirdos who so deeply feels the essence of an instrumental leitmotif from a film score associated with a particular character or couple, that I start associating said leitmotifs in my head with ANOTHER character from an entirely different film/book/series. And I’ve built up a whole library of leitmotifs for LOTR characters even though I ADORE Howard Shore’s original score for the trilogy. I consider these leitmotifs to be add-ons, NOT replacements.

Nor do I intend to completely dissasociate all of these themes from their intended films/characters; some of them are perfect fits for the films they were written for. It’s just my mind going wild like usual. (But I admit, in some cases, the pieces are from films I dislike, and thus I would rather see these great songs associated with something of LOTR quality rather than what they were actually stuck with, especially when the lack of lyrics gives you the freedom to let the melody take you wherever it takes you, personally.)

In the case of Silmarillion characters and relationships, well, it’s a different story - it really is my attempt to cobble together what could be a hypothetical score, if it were brought to the screen. Obviously it’d never be this exactly, but I would hope a composer for a potential screen adaptation of The Silmarillion might be inspired by themes like these.

In some cases, the characters these themes were originally written for don’t resemble the corresponding LOTR characters very much, or at all. Also some of them have titles that by themselves could not be more different from and unfitting for Tolkien’s world. It’s just the melodies on their own, without context or even name, performed by these gorgeous orchestras, that have come to remind me of particular Tolkien figure(s).

I also have found lots of “love themes”, both romantic and platonic, for character relationships, as you’ll see. I’ve included romantic themes for canonical couples, as well as for pairings that I personally ship. I know Shore already gave Aragorn and Arwen a theme, but as I said, these are all extra additions and not replacements.

And yes I have a lot of Star Wars stuff in here, because I love Star Wars…but I love Tolkien more.

For the heck of it I’ll share some of these, with links to each song on YT. It’s hard to explain why I made these choices/associations, but maybe you’ll get it if you listen to some of them.

CHARACTER THEMES

The Valar = “Guardians of the Whills Suite” by Michael Giacchino

Lúthien Tinúviel = “Once Upon a Time in the West” by Ennio Morricone

Túrin Turambar = “Anakin’s Theme” by John Williams

Nienor Níniel = “Helena’s Theme” by John Williams

Frodo Baggins = “Romeo” by Nino Rota

Sam Gamgee = “Rey’s Theme” by John Williams

Aragorn = “The John Dunbar Theme” by John Barry

Gandalf = “Yoda’s Theme” by John Williams

Legolas = “Rose Tico” by John Williams

Éowyn = “Marion’s Theme” by John Williams

THEMES FOR LANDS/LOCATIONS

The Undying Lands = “Out of Africa” by John Barry

ROMANTIC LOVE THEMES

Frodo x Sam = “Love Theme from Ben-Hur” by Miklos Rozsa

Beren x Lúthien = “Love Theme from The Godfather” by Nino Rota

Faramir x Éowyn = “Han Solo and the Princess” by John Williams

Aragorn x Arwen = “Love Theme from Cinema Paradiso” by Ennio Morricone

Sam x Rosie = “Love Theme from Dances with Wolves” by John Barry

Bilbo x Thorin = “Andante Cantabile” by Bernard Herrmann

Thingol x Melian = “Indecent Proposal” by John Barry

Fingon x Maedhros = “Wuthering Heights” by Alfred Newman

Galadriel x Celeborn = “Central Park” by James Newton Howard

Finrod x Bëor = “Somewhere in Time” by John Barry

Aegnor x Andreth = “Love Theme from The Scarlet Letter” by John Barry

Finduilas x Gwindor = “Deborah’s Theme” by Ennio Morricone

Túrin x Beleg = “Across the Stars” by John Williams

Mablung x Nienor = “Wanda and Vision” by Christophe Beck

Tuor x Idril = “Conversation Piece” by Bernard Herrmann

Eärendil x Elwing = “Tennessee” by Hans Zimmer

Elrond x Celebrían = “And Then I Kissed Him” by Hans Zimmer

Pippin x Diamond = “Love Theme from East of Eden” by Leonard Rosenman

Merry x Estella = “Love Theme from Rebel Without a Cause” by Leonard Rosenman

Elanor x Fastred = “Theme from A Summer Place” by Max Steiner (arranged by Percy Faith)

PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP THEMES

Elrond & Elros = “Brothers” by Hans Zimmer

Merry & Pippin = “Flying” by John Williams

Legolas & Gimli = “Rain Man” by Hans Zimmer

Boromir & Faramir = “Luke and Leia” by John Williams

Bilbo & Frodo* = “The Mother’s Love” by Miklos Rozsa

Sam & Elanor = “The Ludlows” by James Horner

I may add to this as I think of more, or even replace certain songs entirely if I come across a better match. Always return to the pinned post here to see the most recently updated list.

* Bilbo & Frodo’s melody is heard in the first minute of the linked track, 0:00–1:01, and again at 1:48. Also, the love theme I associate with Frodo & Sam starts playing at 1:03, making this whole thing fit all the hobbits even better.

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (15) Nightmare

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 15)

Summary: Rosie tells us about her family's sanctuary that is 221B, but also about wars over board games. In the end, it's the story about someone else who also needs a safe haven.

Fifteen Years Old

I felt oddly protective of our home from an early age, and I didn’t want it invaded by my friends. Not that I was ashamed of all the bric-a-brac, Papa’s experiments, or how different it was to other homes I’d visited. It was just...our space, a safe haven where we all could lower our guards, Papa in particular. Over the years, his fame had increased exceedingly, and his derisive façade kept journalists and fans at bay. The moment he entered 221B, he discarded said façade by hanging his coat on the peg.

Another thing to consider, were the battles that always ensued whenever one of us challenged the others to a board game. Having an outsider witnessing that…well, we’d surely be sectioned for life if that were to occur. 

(More likely, the person would be granted vicious dreams for eternity.)

But as Papa points out; there’s always something. In this context, someone.  My friend Liwia. Her parents were Polish, and moved to England two years before Liwia was born. They were Catholics, and having to adjust to a society that was more liberal toward queer people than Poland, took its time. When Liwia came out to them as a lesbian the year prior, they’d tried to pin it on her friendship with me. I was after all related to quite a few of the sort and Liwia’s parents seemed to believe the ludicrous lie that queerness was contagious.

It took them some months to get over it, but once they realised that Liwia still was her normal self, they discarded the original idea of sending her to Poland to live with her strictly religious grandparents. Neither of the Barczykowskis was prepared when said grandparents announced that they were visiting London that summer, staying for at least a fortnight. 

***

Dad and I were in the middle of a Scrabble war, when Papa came home. Not that we realised it at the time. We were too engrossed in arguing.

“It’s bloody unfair to use all the medical terms and diseases you can come up with to win, you know!” I exclaimed accusatory.

“Oh, come now, Rosebud,” Dad teased, looking as pleased as the cat that ate the canary.

“Don’t you dare Rosebud me,” I said through clenched teeth. 

Dad only used that pet name when we were at war over the board games, and it rubbed me up the wrong way.

“Children,” Papa chastised, barely able to suppress his glee.

“You’re home,” we said in unison.

I waited for the inevitable eyeroll and his obviously, but none came.

“We have a guest,” Papa said and waved a hand, and that’s when I saw Liwia standing by the sofa wringing her hands, a look of despair in her eyes.

I leapt to my feet and walked over to hug her tight.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered into her hair.

She explained about her grandparents, and with just one look over at Papa, receiving a nod, I turned back to assure my friend that she could stay at Baker Street for as long as she needed, if her biased grandparents started to make her life a living nightmare.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson,” Liwia said politely.

I could literally see the relief wash over her, the tension in her shoulders dissipating and a tiny smile forming on her lips.

“Please, call us John and Sherlock,” Dad said. 

Then he turned his attention to me with a devilish grin.

“Does this mean you declare defeat, Rosebud?”

“You wish!” I snarled and left Liwia’s side to go into battle with my father.

(Before you go all bananas on me - this will continue tomorrow...)

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[bejeweledblondie]

Peggy, The Pin Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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