irene coming to visit and john gets jealous qwefghjk
Sherlock isn’t surprised when the first thing John does upon entering the flat is drop the bag of groceries in his hand. He looks up from where he’s perched in his chair to find John standing in the doorway, his eyes glued to the woman that’s standing by the fireplace.
“Ah, good. You’re back,” Sherlock says, smiling. “You remember Ms. Adler, of course.”
Irene turns around, all grace and elegance, and gives John a mischievous smile. “Hello, John,” she says. Her smile widens, and she tilts her head when John doesn’t move. “Aren’t you going to come in? We’ve just been having a lovely chat.”
John stares at her hard, and Sherlock can see a muscle twitching in his jaw. He can’t help feeling a bit amused. It wasn’t as if he could be shocked that she was alive since he’d already deduced that on Sherlock’s birthday. And his jealousy was now completely redundant considering he’d spent the past two weeks sleeping in Sherlock’s bed, usually very much unclothed.
“What are you doing here?” John asks, his voice hard, and then he looks at Sherlock. “What is she doing here?”
“Ooh, still so feisty,” Irene purrs, and John’s fists clench.
Sherlock sighs and stands up, handing Irene the piece of paper she’d given him upon her arrival. She takes it from him, folding it up and slipping it down into her shirt, her eyes wicked.
Sherlock rolls his eyes at her and turns to John. “She requires my assistance. For a case,” he says.
He walks over to John–whose eyes are once more narrowed on Irene–and steps right into his space, raising one hand to his jaw, urging John to look at him. His shoulders are set in a tense line, his jaw tight, and he lets out a shaky breath when he meets Sherlock’s eyes.
“John,” Sherlock says softly.
“I don’t care if I’m being ridiculous,” John says immediately, his voice low enough that Irene wouldn’t be able to hear. “I don’t want her here.”
“I know,” Sherlock says. “She’s not staying. She’s leaving town again tonight. And, for the record, you are being ridiculous.”
John opens his mouth, but Sherlock kisses him before he can say whatever angry words are on the tip of his tongue. John huffs, but he doesn’t pull away, allowing Sherlock to tilt his head back and kiss him soundly until John’s hands are curled into Sherlock’s shirt at his sides rather than into tight fists.
“Oh, bravo,” Irene says, sounding highly amused, and John breaks away, tension flooding him again. “Took you two long enough.”
“You can leave anytime,” John snaps.
Irene walks over to them, every step calculated and every movement flawless. She pauses just next to them and reaches out to run her hand down Sherlock’s bicep, which has John’s teeth snapping together and his eyes hardening.
“Goodbye, Sherlock,” she says, but her eyes are on John, and she winks at him. “It was absolutely wonderful to see you again.”
Sherlock resists the temptation to roll his eyes again. “Do go along before John has a fit.”
“Oh, but he’s so cute when he’s all riled up,” Irene says sweetly. “Besides, I’m sure he’s a fabulous shag when he’s in such a state.”
“Out!” Sherlock orders, pointing at the door.
Irene sighs. “Fine, fine. So touchy, the both of you.” She sweeps out of the door, but not before adding, “I’ll be in touch.”
John doesn’t relax until he hears the door to 221 close, and even then he’s still thrumming with palpable anxiety. Sherlock steps closer, pushing until John’s back hits the wall, and he kisses him, soft and slow and deep. John’s fingers thread through his hair, tight and desperate, and Sherlock presses him to the wall with his whole body, surrounding him.
“She means nothing to me, John,” he says into his mouth.
John just shakes his head hard. “You saved her life.”
“You saved mine,” Sherlock breathes, and John goes still. Sherlock pulls back just enough to look into his face, reaching up to trail his fingertips down one cheek.
John just stares at him for a long moment, his eyes wide, and then he pushes up onto his toes to kiss him again, and this time he’s not trembling with jealousy or anger, only with desire, and Sherlock follows him willingly down the hall and into the bedroom.
Okay, so this is gonna have 40s!Bucky flashbacks so enjoyyy
GUYS I HAVE SO MANY THINGS I WANNA WRITE AND NOT ENOUGH TIME IN THE DAY AND IM EATING AN ITALIAN ICE RIGHT NOW AND CAN’T TYPE QUICKLY ECH
Bucky laid in his bed, staring at his ceiling. Hours on end, night after night, he did this. Sleep was not something that occurred regularly for the man. He sighed, rubbing his eyes which were itchy with sleep. But, he couldn’t give into sleep because as soon as he did, he saw her. Nobody else knew that there was something that kept him up at night besides the nightmares. That’s because she was a memory reserved just for him, and nobody else.
She was his whole life,it’s as simple as that. He met her when they were fourteen; she was new to their school. It was lunch and Bucky had been messing around with a couple kids in the hallway, late to the cafeteria. When he got there, he saw a scene he had grown all too accustomed to; his best friend Steve getting bullied by the bigger guys. He was about to step in, when an unfamiliar component of this scene began to play out.
There, in front of him, an angry looking girl marched up to the group messing with Steve. She planted her feet down firmly, defiance hidden in the sparkle in her eyes.
“Hey, you big losers! Why don’t you go pick on someone your own size,” She yelled, yanking back on one of their shoulders. They looked at her bewildered, but she only stepped closer.
“I swear, if I see any of you lay a finger on this guy again the last thing you’ll see will be my fist in your face!” She threatened, holding up her fist for effect. They nodded, and slowly backed away from her. After, I saw her turn to Steve and help him up, before politely shaking his hand.
From that moment on, she had become an irreplaceable part of our little group. Not only did she stand up for Steve, but she taught him how to stand up for himself. She also had a sense of humor to match Bucky’s, always being able to banter back and forth with the boy without missing a beat.
She was so different from anyone else Bucky had ever met, and he couldn’t help himself from falling helplessly in love with her. In fact, she had that effect on most of the boys and men around her.
Bucky smiled at the thought of her, but he could feel the tears gathering in his eyes. It physically pained him to think about her, the overwhelming feeling of emptiness, of missing her, followed even after the happiest of memories- scratch that, especially after the happiest of memories.
It was a normal Friday night for Steve, Bucky, and (y/n). Every single Friday without fail, the trio would go to (Y/n)’s house for a sleepover. Except, instead of sleeping, they often talked through the night, straight into the morning light. On this particular night, the three were sprawled out across (Y/n)’s room. Bucky was lounging in the girl’s comfy chair, Steve was lying on his back on the floor, and (y/n) was lying on her stomach on her bed.
“You know guys, I think about how different our lives would be if we never met each other a lot,” Steve admitted, looking at his two best friends. (Y/n) looked over at him thoughtfully.
“Well, I’d probably have no friends,” she said finally.
“I’d probably be a bad kid, running with the wrong crowd,” Bucky admits, a sad sort of look passing through his features.
“I’d probably be dead,” Steve laughed, though you could hear the underlying fear in his voice.
“Well, then I guess it’s good we all got each other, then,” Bucky smiled cheekily, (y/n) and Steve nodding along.
It was school picture day, and everyone was dressed their best in hopes of a good picture. That included (y/n), who was wearing her favorite red dress, accompanied by her hair flowing like a halo around her head. When Bucky picked her up to walk to school, she took his breath away. She looked so perfect, he knew right then and there that he wanted her to be his.
“Morning, Barnes,” she grinned, meeting him on the sidewalk. He looped his arms with hers, grinning widely down at her.
“Well you look simply breathtaking, doll,” he greeted, an underlying tone of awe masked in his voice. She looked up to meet his eyes, the sparkle in hers mesmerizing.
“You look rather dashing yourself, James,”she replied, grinning like an idiot at one of her best friends. She looked so flawless to him in that moment, Bucky decided to just screw it and throw everything out the window.
“H-hey, (y/n)?” he started off, cursing his voice for sounding so timid and nervous She looked at him, one eyebrow quirked, a small, amused smile on her lips.
“Um, do you, I-I mean, would you like to maybe go on a date with me?” he flickered his eyes to the ground, preparing for rejection.
“Of course I would, James! Pick me up at seven,” she grinned, leaning her head on the taller boy’s shoulder.
He hadn’t realized it, but he was crying. Salty, cold, tears rolled down his face, and he didn’t even bother to wipe them away. He was smiling at the fond memory, though an excruciating ache had taken hold of his heart. He tried to stop- to stop thinking about her, to let her go, but he couldn’t.
Bucky watched his girlfriend run ahead of him, to the school doors. She turned around, excitement and innocence glimmering in her eyes.
“Oh, Buck, look! It’s raining!” she shouted gleefully. He chuckled, leaning against the wall and watching as she ran out, spinning around in the raindrops. She stopped momentarily, looking over at him, before beckoning him to join her. He shook his head, rolling his eyes, before running out to her.
“Dance with me, Bucky!” she smiled, and they started slow dancing in the rain, talking and laughing about nothing.
“You look beautiful, doll,” Bucky smiled; a genuine smile, not his signature smirk, making his heart ache as he watched her cheeks dust red.
“Kiss me, you dork,” she giggled, before reaching up on her tiptoes. His lips met hers, and he could taste her signature vanilla chapstick. He smiled into the kiss, pulling her as close as humanly possible. He thought only for a moment about how this moment was so absolutely cliche, but then decided he didn’t care at all.
“James, do you ever think of our future?” she asked one day as they laid side by side on his bed. He turned to look at her, though she was still looked at the ceiling. He took a moment to admire her long, dark eyelashes, cute nose, and perfect lips.
“’Course I do, doll,”he answered truthfully. On more than one occasion he thought about how he hoped to marry her one day, and even past that.
“And what do you think about, exactly?” she asked, turning to cuddle her head into his side.
“Well, I think about how I want to marry you one day. Maybe have a couple ‘a cute kids, grow old and bitter together,” he told her, both of them chuckling at the last part.
“I’d like that to,” she said, smiling. He leaned down, connecting his lips with hers.
By now, he couldn’t stop the tears from coming down his face. Thinking about someone like her could only result in a slew of emotions. He loved her-no, loves her- with every single cell in his body. He fell hard and fast for her, and he still was under her trance, even though he knew he would never see her again.
That was the worst part. He would never see her sparkling eyes, bright smile, and sassy attitude ever again. It physically hurt him that he wasn’t lying in bed with her at his side, cuddling her, protecting her.
The thunder clapped yet again, making her whimper and burrow deeper into his side.
“Shh, doll, everything’s okay. I’ve got you, I’ll protect you,” he murmured into her hair, wrapping his arms tightly around her torso. She looked up at him, and her tear stained face and fear-filled eyes broke his heart. There weren’t many things that she was afraid of, and thunderstorms happened to be one of them.
“I don’t know what i’d do without you, Buck,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.
He remembered that night very clearly still. That night, when he promised to protect her. He remembered that, maybe, because he broke that promise.
She stared in shock at him, tears welling in her eyes and his. He gulped down the lump in his throat. He’d practiced telling her so many times over the last day, and he never expected it to be so hard.
“Y-you’re shipping out in two days?” she asked, her lip quivering. The tears in her eyes finally spilled over as he nodded solemnly. She came forward and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms protectively around her, resting his chin on top of her head.
“I’m gonna miss you like crazy, doll, but don’t worry, i’ll be back. And when I get back, i’m gonna marry you. And we’re going to get our own little house in Brooklyn, and we’re gonna live there until we’re old and bitter,” he promised, which only made her cry harder.
“I love you, James, so so much, much more than you even know,” she said to him, wiping furiously at her eyes.
“And I love you, way more than I could ever tell you,” he replied, kissing her with enough passion to last until he got back.
He never saw her again. Not because of his experimentation, not because he couldn’t make it back, but because when he did get back, the only thing he could visit was a grave.
“Where’s (y/n)?” Bucky asked as he got settled back in at home. (y/n)’s sister, Luisa, frowned, her eyes saddening. His grin faltered, and he repeated his question.
“I-i’m sorry, James, truly I am. Shortly after you left, she felt useless. she wanted to do her part in the war, so she took up a job at the bomb factory. T-there was a mishap, an explosion, and s-she didn’t m-make it out alive,” Luisa sobbed, covering her face with her hands.
“You can’t be serious! This has to be a joke. Where is she, really?” he asked, not being able to believe it. But Luisa just shook her head, tears leaking from her eyes. He fell to the floor, sobs racking his body. That was it, there was nothing he wanted to live for anymore. He was alone, nothing mattered anymore.
Many times he laid there in his bed, right into the early hours of the morning, thinking of what life would have been like if he never enlisted. How he would have married the love of his life, settled down in Brooklyn, and lived out a happy, fulfilling, and hopefully long life.
I honestly don’t even
know how to begin. It’s been nearly a week and I’m still buzzing and overwhelmed from last weekend.
What started out 8 weeks ago as an impulsive trip with 2 ladies who live in the
Seattle area (the original #ShipperCon trio!), it quickly turned into a group
of 8 of us from all over the US. Finally meeting after becoming friends on
Twitter over the last year. I’m so thankful they were all able to make the trip
all the way out to the NW and I couldn’t have asked for a better weekend.
I’ve already reblogged the top moments that @heyheykatiemae put together from the weekend (check those out too!) and I’m going to totally steal
her idea of using all our Twitter handles to keep the stories straight. (You
can also follow these lovely ladies over there because they’re basically the
best. No lie.)
I don’t mean to sound jealous or anything but… HOW IN THE WORLD IS MELISSA ABLE TO LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL WHEN SHE CRIES?!!
I shit you not, every single time she started crying during 7x10, I just thought, “God she looks so majestic and flawless.” She’s always gorgeous of course but lord, she even looks like a damn goddess while crying…
I mean look at the amazing and beautiful perfection that is Melissa McBride:
And then there’s me crying:
She is just so freaking perfect in every way. I can’t take it!!