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100 posts!

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04/07/23

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Thank you love!! I hope you're having a fantastic day too!!💕💕💕💕

Bodhi Durran Masterlist

Updated: 3-20-25

This was so good! I'm honestly in love with this story🥺❤️❤️

Chapter 4: Back to Blighty

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

*Please do not plagiarise, copy, or repost anywhere else.

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Autistic!Reader

*18+ only. Minors DNI. If you follow/reblog, please have your age (or an indicator of your age) in your bio.

Summary: Your time at the front has come to an end, and you return to London with the rest of the SSR team. While reuiniting with old friends, you make some new ones too, and can finally have some quality time with Bucky.

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, making out, suggestive stuff, talk about the war and invasions, found family, some cheesy musical numbers (yes, really). No smut in this chapter but it's coming soon, don't you worry!

Author Notes:

I don't know what I think of this chapter. Depression's been kicking my ass lately so I'm kind of doubting everything right now.

The character Thea is coded as having ADHD. Her traits are based off one of my best friends whom I adore (when we hang out we're a neurodivergent powerhouse).

As I’ve been writing I’ve also fallen in love with Thea as a character. Maybe I should do a spin-off about her. Click to read her bio.

The Windmill Theatre was a famous variety theatre that became best known for its shows involving nude models in still tableaus.

Click for full Author Notes

DISCLAIMER: The reader’s autistic traits are predominantly based on my own, but every autistic person is different and will display different traits in different ways.

Your friend, Thea, was a dancer. Or at least, a former dancer. The toast of the Folies Bergère and the London Criterion in the 1920s, she had since turned her hand to choreography and now directed shows at the Windmill Theatre.

Yes, that Windmill Theatre.

Your peculiarities balanced each other out. She could be forgetful, you remembered everything. She was disorganised, you were the very much the opposite. She was always late, your time management was impeccable. Sometimes it was carnage, but most of the time you were the perfect pair, and she was one of the best people you had ever met.

Right now you were using one of the public phones at the port, trying to liaise with Thea about collecting your key. She had been looking after your flat since you had been away, and you were trying to sort a good time to meet her.

So far, you were struggling.

"Is that tapdancing going on in the background?" You winced.

"Yes love, sorry. I'll get her to stop." You heard Thea move away from the mouthpiece and call out. "Sweetie, would you stop for a moment please? My poor friend can't hear me."

That wasn't strictly true, but it was easier to understand than 'my friend is sensitive to noise and can't focus on my voice while you're dancing and will probably cry if you don't stop.'

The tapping ceased, much to your relief.

"Sorry darling, what was I saying?"

"About my key. Our train gets in at five.”

"Yes! I gave Joey your key."

"Why does Joey have my key?"

"I'm in rehearsals when you arrive in London."

“I could meet you at the theatre?”

“It’s the sitzprobe for the Christmas show sweetie, I’ll be backstage.”

"Fair point! So where am I meeting Joey?"

"He's watching the rehearsals, so you can meet him in the auditorium. I'll let them know you're coming."

Thea's fiancé, Joey, was a lovely man. A former RAF pilot who had lost his right arm in action, he and Thea had met one night after a show at The Windmill and had been inseparable ever since.

It had been wonderful to see her so happy, and with a man who thought the world of her. Now, you couldn’t wait to introduce her to Bucky.

"Can I bring a friend?" You asked tentatively.

"Of course you can, sweetie!" And you could hear she was beaming on the other end of the phone. “Wait, a friend? Is this a pal, or did you find a nice gentleman out in Italy?”

“You’ll have to wait and see!” You giggled, wanting to tell her everything but knowing that you could be easily overheard in your current location. You also knew that you had only paid for a limited amount of time on the phone, and as soon as you started enthusing, you wouldn’t stop.

***

You met Bucky in the corridor of the train when you were returning from the lavatories. You had been separated when disembarking the boat, which had made you quite anxious, so finding him again was a great relief.

Then again, travelling in general had always been incredibly stressful for you, the noise, the queues, all the people. You wished that you could magic yourself to new locations without the stresses and strains.

“Hello, sarge!” You gasped, trying to hide how relieved you were to see him.

"Lieutenant, I need your services." He smirked, pulling you in and enveloping you in his arms. You hugged him back, realising just how exhausted you were in that moment.

“I was wondering where you’d got to.” You said softly. “We were all ordered onto the train after collecting our bags.”

“We had extra checks on our papers.” Bucky told you, rolling his eyes. “Took ages. Anyway, now that I’ve found you, can I have a kiss?”

“Only if you say please.” You teased. Normally you didn’t know how to joke with people, it was hard to know whether the joke would land or not. But with Bucky it felt different, you could read him because he was honest, and he was good at sensing what you needed, or asking if he was unsure.

Bucky straightened his back and raised one eyebrow. “Pretty please. With a ribbon on top.”

You nodded, grinning broadly, before pursing your lips to meet his as he pulled you closer. He kissed you desperately, hungrily, not caring who might see.

“I have a compartment to myself.” You told him. “I was sharing with an old fart who smelled of peppermints, but luckily he had his eyes closed the whole time so I didn’t have to speak to him. But now I’m by myself. Come and join me!”

Your ramble made Bucky giggle, before he rested his nose against yours. “Hmm… I think a bit of canoodling will definitely make the journey go faster.” He said with mock seriousness. “Good idea, lieutenant.”

For the remainder of your journey to St Pancras, you sat on Bucky’s lap in your compartment, curtains drawn, in each other’s arms.

“I need to say something.” Bucky murmured as he snuggled his head into your neck.

“That sounds ominous!” You didn’t like when people said things like this, even if they ended up telling you something nice. I have something to tell you, we need to talk… those words never failed to fill you with anxiety. “I hope it’s not something bad?”

“Oh no, it’s good! I promise!” He looked at your mouth for a moment before he spoke. “When I got captured, I never expected to survive. Then, when Steve rescued me by some miracle, all I wanted was to find some peace. I’m just so tired and battered that I didn’t think I was capable of… I never expected to…” He broke off, thinking about what he was going to say next. “I never expected to meet someone. I didn’t even think I was ready. But I feel safe with you. You don’t expect me to be anything, you don’t ask me to hide anything. I don’t have to pretend when I’m with you. Back in Brooklyn I was expected to put on an act, always be the charmer, always be the one in control, be the protector. But around you I can be vulnerable. Ah jeez, am I making any sense?”

You nodded, trying to stop yourself from crying with joy at his words.

“And I hope you feel as though you can be yourself around me, and be vulnerable if you have to. Because I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He continued, before kissing your nose.

You didn’t say anything in response, you didn’t know how to put your feelings into words at that moment. Instead, you nodded, letting the emotion wash over you and the joyful tears fall. Gently, you covered his face with kisses, before nuzzling your face into his neck, pulling him close.

***

Suitcase in one hand, Bucky’s hand in the other, you led your handsome sergeant down the steps of the Windmill Theatre. As he saw the posters by the door, he gently tugged your hand and whispered in your ear.

“Wait, is this…?”

“Yes.”

“This is…”

“Yes.”

“The Windmill?”

“Yes, the Windmill!”

“Oh wow.”

“But you won’t see anything of that nature today, Bucky. The girls wear robes during rehearsals.”

You were merely stating a fact, but Bucky snorted with laughter.

“Baby, I only have eyes for you!” He laughed. “But I appreciate the heads up.”

“There’s no need to be ashamed of wanting to look at a naked woman Bucky. Well, unless you’re a Peeping Tom, then it’s wrong. But these girls get paid and want to do it here. The real shows are stunning, they look like artworks.” You had gotten used to rambling in front of Bucky, because you knew it was safe to do so. He never told you to stop or shrink yourself. He said he found it endearing and sweet.

He put his arm around you and kissed your ear, before whispering into it, speaking slowly so that you could hear through your earplugs.

“I bet you look like an artwork too.”

You could feel your face go hot. Bucky must have noticed your shy grin, because he giggled and kissed you again.

“Come on, lieutenant, let’s get your key and get you home.”

The auditorium was less crowded than you’d anticipated, but you still wore your earplugs, just to be safe. The orchestra were already in their seats, warming up, but the stage was empty. Your heart leapt in your chest as you thought of Thea backstage, giving a pep talk to the dancers, buzzing with energy.

You couldn’t wait to give her a hug.

In one of the auditorium seats you spotted Joey, dressed in his uniform and medals, empty sleeve pinned neatly. As soon as he spotted you and Bucky approaching, he grinned and waved.

“Joey!” You waved at him.

"Well hello there!" Joey greeted you in a loud whisper, his face beaming. You couldn't help but smile too as he pulled you into a hug. “It’s good to see you.” He said. “Thea’s going to explode with happiness!” He looked at Bucky then. “And is this your friend? Thea told me all about it. Good to meet you, chap!”

Your heart started to pound as Joey extended his hand for Bucky to shake.

“I didn’t… I just mentioned I was bringing someone!” You explained, flustered, but Bucky was smiling.

“Call me Bucky. It’s nice to meet you too.” He said, shaking Joey’s hand, before slipping his arm around your waist.

Joey handed you your key, counting the keys on the loop first to make sure all were accounted for.

“Thea told me to tell you, that she won’t be able to get away to say hello, but that I’m to give you a hug from her, which I already have done, and she will see you at The Fighting Cocks tomorrow. She said to bring friends.”

The Fighting Cocks was your local. You liked it there, the pub landlady was lovely, the barmaids knew you, and it had a nice, quiet atmosphere. But ‘bring friends’ – that was typical Thea. You had read Carl Jung’s theory about Introverts and Extroverts, and she was definitely in the latter category.

You liked making friends, it was just that too many people in one go could be a little overwhelming.

“Will you stay for a song?” Joey asked. “They’re really rather good.”

“We’ll stay for a song, then I think we best get going.” You looked at Bucky, who nodded in agreement. “As for the pub… maybe we could invite Captain Rogers?” You asked him tentatively. Most of your other friends lived outside of London, and the only real pal you had made out in Italy was Fraser, and he was still out at the base. You weren’t sure whether Peggy would join if you asked her. Sometimes it was physically painful asking somebody to spend time with you, only to be told ‘oh I’d love to but I’m just so busy’. That always meant ‘no’.

“I’ll ask the guys from the 107th too. They’d enjoy experiencing an old English pub I think.” Bucky smiled, although from his eyes you could see that the thought was making him feel tired.

As Joey smiled and beckoned you both to get a better view of the stage, you pulled Bucky close and whispered, “If the pub gets too intense tomorrow, just say ‘custard creams’ to me and we’ll leave.”

Bucky giggled, “What are custard creams?”

“They’re vanilla flavoured biscuits, although you can’t often get them these days with rationing. I thought it would make a good code word.”

“Custard creams.” Bucky grinned. “I’ll remember.” He stopped and looked at you as you found some places in the aisle. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I get tired quite easily these days. It’s good to know I have an out tomorrow if I want to go home.”

“My friend Judith and I used to do something similar at university parties. Around 1 o’clock in the morning people either get very sleepy or very loud, and it stops being fun. So we would say ‘I have to be up for the milkman tomorrow’ and that would be our code to leave.”

“Why the milkman? Doesn’t the milkman just leave the bottles outside the door?”

You shrugged. “People would be too drunk to apply any logic to the statement.”

Bucky giggled again. “Well, ’custard creams’ is much easier to remember.” He said fondly.

Just then, the orchestra started, and the singer strutted on stage. He started a bright, energetic song. As he approached the first chorus, a line of dancers started to appear.

The rhythm of the steps, the piano, the singing… It was all so wonderful, the way it was affecting your body and making you want to move.

God, you had missed music. You had missed it so much.

You started to sway to the music, your hands up and waving in a manner you had seen stage performers do. Joey, laughing, joined you.

Bucky just wrapped his arms around your waist and swayed with you. His body was relaxing against yours, and although you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was smiling.

***

As Bucky walked you to your door, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. The thought of asking him to go to bed with you had been on your mind since your kiss in the woods. In fact, you had been thinking about it constantly.

But just asking him ‘would you like to come in and sleep with me’ just wasn’t the way things were done.

“Do you want to come in for tea?” You asked instead. “Thea said that my neighbour Mrs Penlington dropped round some things yesterday, so there’s not a lot but we can…”

“I have to report to the SSR accommodation unfortunately.” Bucky said with a furrowed brow. He took you in his arms gently. “Tell you what, let’s meet tomorrow, before the pub thing with your friend. We can go for a walk in the park and have lunch? Then I’ll tell the guys to meet us at the pub.”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good.” You said, trying to hide your disappointment as he kissed you.

After Bucky left, you sat pondering over his words.

Safely in your flat, unpacking your things, refamiliarizing yourself with the old place, you replayed the interaction in your head.

Bucky was honest with you, always had been, so if he genuinely didn’t want to come in, he would have said so, but sometimes people used excuses to soften the blow.

He saw you to your door, that was something. He came with you to the Windmill. He had time to do that, so why didn’t he want to come in?

And you had spent half the train journey from Dover petting and kissing, and he had told you how much he cared about you, confessing his feelings.

Perhaps you were overthinking it all, but when you had mostly encountered dishonesty from people and had gotten used to deciphering their words like a tangled web, it was hard to tell your brain to work differently.

Maybe he was just tired. He’s been through a lot. He’s exhausted. It’s understandable that he’d want some alone time. You want alone time, you always need it after work.

But I’m here. All his. Why didn’t he take the chance?

Maybe he was just tired.

***

“This stuff’s good!” Bucky said, digging into the cottage pie in front of him.

The two of you had met for a walk in Regent’s Park, before finding a spot to have lunch. The restaurant was nice and quiet, just how you liked it, but your mind was still racing.

“See, English food isn’t all bad!” You joked, although you could hear the nerves in your voice. You were still pondering on the evening before, and were struggling to hide how tense you were.

Bucky finished his mouthful, and gestured to you with his fork. “What’s troubling you? Tell me. You kept staring into space when we were walking in the park.”

Here it was. You liked that your relationship with Bucky was based on honesty, but that didn’t make it any easier to put your feelings into words.

“I suppose I was a little sad when you didn’t want to come in yesterday. After the train journey and what you said about me maybe looking like an artwork I thought…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling bad. “I’m sorry. I guess I get a little confused when things aren’t crystal clear.”

Bucky swirled the dregs around his teacup. When he spoke his voice was sad and quiet.

“I was exhausted baby, I’m sorry. I would have just fallen asleep, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

Told you. The poor boy just wanted to rest.

“I wouldn’t have minded you falling asleep.” You told him.

“I know, I just needed some time alone after all that travelling and the excitement of the day. That and… there was something Steve said that was playing on my mind. I guess I needed to process it all. I didn’t really know how to say all of that yesterday.”

You nodded, understanding. You reached out and held his hand, smiling when he lifted it to his mouth and gave it a kiss.

“What did Captain Rogers say?”

Bucky sighed and bit his lip. “I think Steve will want me back at the front with him. Not yet, but soon. He wants to stamp out Hydra, and I can’t let him go alone.”

No. No, that’s so unfair.

“But you said you were tired! You’ve been given time to rest!” You protested.

“We have some time here. It’ll be January when we head out, February if I’m lucky. That gives me a month or two.”

“That’s not enough.” You protested. “You were… After what happened to you…” You didn’t want to put it into words. He had been through enough. He needed peace. He deserved it.

He took both of your hands, squeezing them again.

“But do you understand why I’ll have to go?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“The SSR might post me elsewhere too.” You conceded. “I’ll have to go where they send me. Or, stay put in London until the war is won. I understand duty.”

“But you know that doesn’t change how I feel about you, and the fact that I want this to continue.”

“This?”

“You and me.”

You and me. Me and him.

Not caring who saw, you got up from your seat and moved to the other side of the table. Gently, you sat on Bucky’s lap, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

As Bucky cuddled you in response, he whispered in your ear, “That old broad by the window is staring daggers at us.”

“Let her.” You replied, kissing his neck.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “That’s my girl.” He said.

***

A group of people could be overwhelming, yes, but this group you didn’t mind so much.

Dare you think it, but you felt at home.

The boys of the 107th were a little boisterous, but you had to admit, they were a lot of fun.

You got on with Gabe the best. A fellow linguist, the two of you had started excitedly talking about your studies and what you loved about French and German. Jacques meanwhile was grateful to have another person who spoke his language, and you, him and Gabe had to halt your French banter and make sure that everybody else could understand you.

Morita and Dugan were sweethearts, even if they did have a propensity for sharing inappropriate jokes. You didn’t understand some of them, but Morita was drunk enough to explain them to you. That was very much appreciated, and helped you understand the humour. Falsworth was a little posh and stiff upper lipped, but charming too. He had scolded Dugan and Morita for sharing such obscene jokes with ‘a lady’, but when you had informed him that the girls of the ATS were just as foul-mouthed, he had laughed along and relented.

You had also gotten the chance to speak to Captain Rogers too, or, as he insisted you call him, Steve. You had only spoken to him a few times at the base in Italy, and you found him to be an absolute delight.

When Joey and Thea had arrived, you had become overwhelmed with joy. She had swept you up into a tight hug, and had insisted upon meeting your ‘friend’.

When you had introduced Bucky, she had grinned broadly and winked at you, mouthing ‘I approve’ in a way that Bucky could see. It made him blush, and you hide your face in your hands for a moment, but it was lovely.

Joey had fitted in perfectly with Steve and Bucky, while Thea joined the little French circle with you, Gabe, and Jacques. She had visited Marseille, Jacques’ hometown, for a holiday when she was employed at the Folies Bergère, and watching his face light up as they shared stories was lovely to see.

Usually, groups intimidated you slightly. There was always an expectation to act in a certain way, and the social rules were different. But tonight you felt relaxed. Perhaps it was Bucky’s presence, his kind nature, loving and accepting you.

Or perhaps, in a way, this rag-tag team felt more comfortable and safe than your own family.

***

“So, the lieutenant here tells us that you used to be a showgirl.” Falsworth said to Thea, speech slurring slightly after his fifth pint.

“More of a dancer really darling, but I’m more of a choreographer now, although I can still do a very good high kick!” Thea’s enthusiastic rambling almost matched yours, and you loved it.

“Dancing, huh?” Steve grinned. “I should pay you for some lessons, I’ve been told I have two left feet.”

“Well, I do a touch of singing as well.”

“You’ll have to serenade us!” Dugan added.

“Alright then.” Thea said frankly. “There’s a piano here, and Marge the pub landlady has a wonderful collection of sheet music.”

She got to her feet, smiling, the rest of the group looking at her in amazement.

Thea had once told you that there was no point in feigning modesty. If you had a skill, you should be proud of it. You liked that motto.

“I’ll accompany you.” You offered, standing to go and join her.

Yes, just like old times. You and Thea singing at the piano together!

Piano was something you had picked up as a child. It had been something to focus on, an escape, a way to keep your hands and mind busy while adults argued around you. Your grandmother had taught you the fundamentals before she passed away, and although you were no George Gershwin, you could accompany yourselves and others competently.

“What do you want to sing?” You asked Thea as you set yourself up at the piano with the array of sheet music.

“Something from the music halls! That’s where I got my start after all!”

That didn’t narrow it down very much.

“Hmm…” You flicked through the songbooks, until you found something. “How about this? When I Take My Morning Promenade?”

“Yes!” Thea cried, clapping her hands.

“I’ll turn the pages for you, baby.” You heard Bucky say, and he appeared from behind you, standing by the piano.

Oh you sweet, sweet thing.

“After the last war, the old boys used to love this song. It reminded them of happier times…” Thea rambled as you set yourself up, Bucky primed and ready to turn the pages.

Thea started to sing, somehow giving the provocative song class and charm. Everybody in the pub was looking at her as she sang, and you couldn’t blame them.

Everyone except Bucky, his eyes were only on you.

Well, you and occasionally the song book. Sometimes you had to tap his wrist to prompt him to turn the page.

As Thea finished her song, the whole pub erupted in applause. You and Bucky joined in. Thea’s singing never failed to make you smile, and it felt so amazing to be surrounded by music again.

As Thea gestured to you to extend the applause to her accompanist, you extended your arms and laughed, before shrinking rather shyly.

“Now let’s sing a duet, sweetie.” She said, coming over to the piano and taking a seat beside you. “Your choice.”

You knew the perfect song, no sheet music required, and as you began to play and sing slowly and with feeling, Thea was full of emotion.

“A lady known as Paris, romantic and charming, has left her old companions and faded from view. Lonely men with lonely eyes are seeking her in vain. The streets are where they were, but there’s no sign of her. She has left the Seine…” You sang.

You knew how much Thea missed Paris, her life there, and every piece of news of the occupation there broke her heart. Sometimes it helped to feel something, to sing about it, to mourn it, and that’s what this song was for.

Thea took a deep breath and started to sing the chorus with you, harmonising.

“The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, I heard the laughter of her heart in every street café. The last time I saw Paris, her trees were dressed for spring, and lovers walked beneath those trees and birds found songs to sing…”

You didn’t look at Bucky as you played, focusing instead on your duet with Thea, but you could feel his eyes on you, sense the shift in his mood.

He was feeling it too. The sadness, the grief, the nostalgia.

“The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, no matter how they change her, I remember her that way!” That line especially, you could hear Thea’s voice break slightly. Adapting your accompaniment, you shifted your left hand from the piano to hold hers for a moment.

As you and Thea finished the song, and you ended with a small flourish on the piano. The applause and sounds of appreciation were more muted, but still enthusiastic.

As you looked between your friends, new and old, and back at your handsome sergeant, there was a warm feeling in your chest.

Groups could sometimes overwhelm you, yes.

But this one here? This one felt like home.

“The time of hot chocolaty mornings and toasty marshmallow evenings.”

Pooh’s Grand Adventure: The Search for Christopher Robin (1997) dir. Karl Geurs

Been writing a soap fic over my break from school and I can't wait to release it :3

hardcover or paperback? bookstore or library? bookmark or receipt? stand alone or series? nonfiction or fiction? thriller or fantasy? under 300 pages or over 300 pages? children’s or ya? friends to lovers or enemies to lovers? read in bed or read on the couch? read at night or read in the morning? keep pristine or markup? cracked spine or dog ear?

Thank you for tagging me! I love these games! I'll tag a few of my favorite writers!(please let me know if you'd rather not be tagged!)

No pressure tags: @princess-evans-addict @worksby-d @agentofbarnes

This or That tag game

thanks for the tag darling @taeshobipop 💕🌻 these usually make me think too hard about things that should be easy lmaooo

hardcover or paperback? bookstore or library? bookmark or receipt? stand alone or series? nonfiction or fiction? thriller or fantasy? under 300 pages or over 300 pages? children’s or ya? friends to lovers or enemies to lovers? read in bed or read on the couch? read at night or read in the morning? keep pristine or markup? cracked spine or dog ear?

tagging @kookieswan @still-with-koo @hobipost @kookiecrumb @kookiesbuckethat @minyfic @jimilter @jimeanour @eureka-its-zico and anyone else who want to!

Dreaming with Rain

Major lack of soap content on this damn app, here to feed the bicep girlies. First post kinda shy… mostly an excuse to get dirty with soap. Might cross-post on AO3 I’ll lyk

Minors DNI, 18+NSFW under the cut.

Soap x Reader

CW: Fluff, Cuddling, NSFW, Hot steamy sex, mutual pining if you squint, impreg, creampie, talk about babies, Johnny Mctavish has a big cock and its canon, fingering, I did my best at Scottish dirty talk, established relationship

Not proofed. Kinda started as a drabble, written in notes app so if it’s formatted weird that’s why. And if it sounds like a self-insert… no it doesn’t . You/Your. MC has ‘female’ parts and is referred to as a girl. Hate that there’s not more gennetrual soap content out there., and yet I still don’t contribute,, as a genderqueer person..anyway

The sun was setting, its warm light cast through your living room window, and streaks of pink and orange began to crawl up the walls. You watched the pretty sky from your spot on the tub in the bathroom. It had been a busy day already, and your feet ached from all the running around you did.

Johnny was due back sometime next week, and you busied yourself with cleaning and prepping for his return. It’s the longest you two had been away from each other since you decided to get together. You knew his job kept him distant, and each day he was gone seemed to grow longer. Originally when you first started dating, you thought his random leave of absences were due to him playing ‘hard to get’. But after a rough night of hard whiskey, truths were told about his real job.

You feared for his safety. He’d constantly assure you that he played smart, and you had confidence he was perfectly capable, but it ultimately did nothing to sooth the wrench in your gut.

The past weeks without him had been lonely. You were used to living alone for so long and it had never bothered you before, but the moment his sunshiny personality brightened your doorstep- you were suddenly aware of everything you were missing.

You stood from the tub and tightened the robe across your waist. Freshly clean and shaven you felt a little better and a slight ease wrapped its way around your shoulders. He would be home soon. Just another week.

You walked into your room to get dressed and eyed your phone on the nightstand. No new notifications.

Of course not.

Johnny didn’t take his personal phone with him on missions- he’d never compromise your safety like that. It was an honorable gesture, but you hated not even being able to have any contact with him.

There was a journal tucked neatly into the top drawer, every night he was gone you made a habit of filing a page out for him. Small letters, notes, mostly boring entries about your day. All the things you wished you could talk to him about. Things you didn’t want to forget to tell him when he came back.

He was the one who suggested it first, and so it became routine.

You slipped on some boxer shorts and a crewneck and sat on the edge of your bed, thumbing through the pages. What could you write about tonight?

‘Miss you’ you started, as always.

‘The old woman at the grocery store asked about you today. Said she’d never see me come alone before. I don’t know how- I’ve been shopping there since before I met you.’ A dry laugh left your lips.

‘Your presence is missed all over.’

A soft pitter patter tapped at the glass of your porch door. It started raining, how fitting.

‘It’s like even the world knows.’

A knock at your door pulled you from your notebook, you tossed the pen and pad onto the dresser and hurried to the front. It was almost dark, and you hadn’t planned on any visitors.

A spring of hope flashed into your chest when you saw car lights flash and the beep of its lock.

Undoing the deadbolt you swung the door open.

There stood Johnny, a stupid grin on his face and flowers in his hands.

“Johnny..”

You flung yourself to him, and he caught you with ease, the flowers crushed and forgotten between your two chests.

His arm quickly wrapped around your waist, and his head buried in the crook of your neck and shoulder. His beard was longer, and the scruff scratched against your soft skin. You let out a sigh and he inhaled in the same breath- your hearts both beating against their cages, trying to reach the other.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill.

The rain slowly grew heavier and it began to pool at your bare feet.

“Lass,” Johnny mumbled, “the rain.”

Your arms held him tight around his neck, and you had to stand on your toes to get as close to him as you could. The arm on your waist tightened and he lifted you with ease, your legs wrapping around his center as he walked you backwards inside, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He set you down and your feet slowly touched the soft carpet. You whined as he pulled away slightly to look at you. Your eyes met and the corner of his crinkled up with his smile.

“Hello.”

“Hello, bonnie.”

“You weren’t due until next week.”

He shrugged and set his duffel bag and some gear onto the floor with a heavy thwump.

“Yer complaining?”

“No.” You answered immediately.

His smile grew as he took the rest of his stuff off with a heavy sigh. You stood inches away watching him as he crouched down to unlace his boots. Once off he easily scooped you up into his arms bridal style, and carried you into the back room.

You plopped on the bed with a yelp, and he lowered his body over yours, covering you completely, his lips immediately finding yours.

You moaned into the kiss right away, his scruff scratched at your cheeks and made your lips raw, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. His breath was warm and you melted into him.

“Johnny,” you breathed out, “I missed you.”

He huffed into your lips, “Aye lass,” his kiss softened.

“I’ve missed you.”

—————

His kisses wandered down, over your jaw and he nipped at your neck, calloused hands roaming up your body. Making quick work of removing your crewneck, his body pressed more firmly against yours and you could feel his hardness press against the inside of your thighs.

You wriggled in his grasp as his touches began to get desperate and rough, hips jutting into yours. Your back arched off the bed as his teeth scraped against the soft of your chest, your hands pulling at the rough fabric of his sweater.

He took the hint and pulled away just enough to rip it off, immediately going back to your lips and bruising your waist. You wormed under him as your chests rubbed together, the taught muscle of him felt so perfect up against you. Johnny was home, and you’d never felt more secure.

Groans escaped him when you bucked your hips up, seeking more friction, his jeans were rough and rubbed your thighs raw. The wetness from the rain made his scent even more inciting and you dragged your hands down, seeking him.

“Let me take care of you.” You blurted through the kiss, and he moaned at the thought of your tiny mouth wrapped around his aching cock. You palmed him through his pants, fingers barely even able to grab at all of him, so you settled with rubbing at his swollen head.

“Fuckin’ christ,” he gasped out and ground his hips down into your hands.

He pushed himself up on one forearm just above your head, his other hand unbuckling his belt and his zipper, kicking off his pants and removing everything else, until it was just the both of you in your underwear.

His eyes met yours as he crawled his way up your body again, hands roaming up your thighs and touching every part of your body.

“You can have yer way wi’ me,” his voice got deep and gravely and it shook something inside of you- somehow growing impossibly wetter.

“And I promise to fuck you properly later,” his hand came up and over your own boxers, and his fingers dipped under the band, seeking the center of your warmth.

“But right now I need to be inside ya, love.” His thick fingers rubbed through your folds, finding your clit immediately and you shook under him, gasp and moans spilling from your lips.

He watched you from above with a cocky smirk, sinking one digit into your wet hole making you quiver and shake. You grabbed onto his bicep as you trembled, thicker and meatier than any part on your body. The hard muscle twitched under your touch and you ground yourself into his hand.

“That’s a girl,” he coaxed as he pushed another finger into you. He watched you, eyes like a hawk seeing every movement you made under him. His hardness twitched against your hip and you rolled into him- edging him on.

At three fingers now, he curled them upwards, hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over again, and a sob raked through your body as you came all over his fingers.

Your eyes squeezed shut as he continued to ride your orgasm out with you, milking all that he could. His palm drenched in your slick, thumb rubbing circles against your swollen clit.

“Christ.” He sighed out, yanking your boxers off completely, his joining your discarded clothes on the floor.

His cock slapped up in between your bodies and he jutted his hips down into you, smothering your body between the mattress and him, until all your senses were wrapped up in nothing but him. You could still smell the ash and powder from gunfire as he pressed his body into yours.

Your hands grabbed at his hair and he dug his face into your neck again. Lubing himself up with your wetness, he rubbed against your core.

“Hurry Johnny,” you whined out, wriggling your hips to try to position him lower, legs spreading wide.

“Please I need you.”

He chuckled in response.

“Desperate are we?”

“Only for you.”

He sighed and positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing slowly.

You both groaned as he entered you, inch by inch. His incredible thickness stretching you out as if for the first time all over again.

“Y’alright, love?” He gritted out, forcing himself to slow his pace, finally bottoming out inside you. His voice was breathy and accent thick with lust.

It took a second for you to respond with a nod of your head, not trusting your voice. Your core burned, and you felt so full.

“Yer words bonnie, use em.” He pulled away to get a better view of you from above. You looked so small and innocent under him, he almost felt bad for wanting to ruin you. His cock jumped at his dirty thoughts and you couldn’t help but moan and clench around the feeling of him- a loopy grin on the both of your faces.

“I thought you were going to fuck me, Mctavish.”

A strangled whine escaped him, and he instinctively ground out into you, slamming against your cervix. Your body bucked with his, and he instantly felt into an excruciatingly slow pace.

Being with Johnny was normally slow and deep like this, afraid he would hurt you he always tried to keep himself under control. You wish he’d just let go, but he still found ways to fuck you with every ounce of desperation. You were always full and smothered with him, impossible to get away. Lacking nothing- except air.

Even now with one hand gripped at the plush of your hips, dragging you down into his cock with every thrust, and the other arm wrapped around your temples, palm flat against the top of your head so he can fuck into you deeper.

You could feel your body prick with heat, and your vision blurred more and more with every slam and thrust.

“Fuck, Johnny.” You cried.

“Al’ready on it, love.” He ground out into your ear, breath heavy and hot as it fanned over your neck and chest.

The thrust of his hips grew sloppy and rough, and he groaned every time your skin slapped together, the naughty wet noises ringing in your ears. You’re sure your face and neck were beet red.

“Baby,” you bit out into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your back completely, pulling you slightly off the mattress and into him even more. Somehow he went deeper in this position. His thighs and knees bucked under you for support- his chest still flush with yours. Nipples raw as they rubbed against his pecks.

“Fuck I missed you.”

“Were you lonely?” He ground out and sighed into you neck, barely above a whisper.

“Always.” You responded, scratching you nails down his hard back, and tugging at the base of his hair. Eliciting a heavy groan in response.

“Should I fuck a bairn into ye then?” He pulled his head away from your shoulder to smother your lips with his again, tongue invading every crevice of your mouth.

“Make sure y’canna be lonely again?” He continued and the jerk of his hips became desperate and carnal.

Your core clenched in response, sucking him in so deep that he’d never leave. It was enough though, and your second orgasm ripped though you, rippling heavy from your chest down through your abdomen making your toes curl.

“Jesus lass, So. Fecking. Tight.” He slammed his cock into you, one.. two.. three more times before his own release spilled from his body- spraying against your womb in hot and thick spurts.

You felt somehow fuller, and could feel it as he spilled out of you, down the both of your thighs and onto the sheets below.

It took a handful of gasps and breaths before you both calmed enough to come back to your senses. Johnny stayed hard inside of you, relentless, but eased the both of you into a more comfortable position on your sides. You wrapped a leg around him and he hid his face in the warmth of your chest- arms tangling.

After a while your breathing grew softer and slowed.

“Oi,” he pinched at your waist and you twitched against him. “Don’t go falling asleep on me. I just got ye back.”

Your core clenched again and he ground himself into you gently in response. A sigh left your lips and you spoke into his hair.

“Did you mean what you said? About a..”

“A bairn?”

You hummed and it took him a minute to respond.

“Aye lass, if it would make ye happy.”

“You make me happy Johnny.”

You both stayed silent for a moment, contemplating and enjoying the presence of the other.

“I know I canna be here all the time-

“I knew what I was getting into.” You countered. Your grip on him tightening slightly. “There’s nothing for you to apologize about.”

“Aye..” he mumbled out again.

“But there could be a piece of me wi’you, no? Someone to keep looking after for, while I’m gone.” He pulled away slightly and rose so he could look you in the eyes.

You smiled and graced his lips with a gentle kiss. He kept his eyes on you as you lowered yourself deeper into the mattress and let the sleepiness sink through you.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, and he pulled a blanket over the both of you. “Mayhaps..”

And for the first time in weeks, you let yourself dream. Johnny whispering sweet things into your ear as you let yourself go.

—————

:) hope you enjoyed, nasty heathens. Feedback, comments and reblogs super welcomed.

you're still a writer, even if:

you don't write every day

your books aren't published

you haven't finished your first draft

your stories don't get a lot of interaction

you keep creating new stories instead of finishing them

you aren't as good or skilled at writing as other people might be

you struggle to come up with new ideas

you abandon stories when you get bored of them

you don't want your books to be published

you take long breaks between writing sessions

you only write for fun

you doubt your ability as a writer

you don't create original stories and write fanfiction

you don't know all there is to writing techniques and writing rules

Writing is about writing. It's not a competition of who can reach what first. You still hold value as a writer, regardless of what your progress or process looks like. You set your own goals, and it's okay to only do this for fun.