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saturnville · 1 month

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candy bling, joe rantz.

pairing: joe rantz x black fem oc (cleotha jean). content: cleotha jean reminisces on her relationship with joe rantz. warning: more "modern" approach to their relationship. suggestive content. song: candy bling by mariah carey (I suggest you listen as you read). tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum

In the solitude of her room, Cleotha found herself surrounded by fragments of a past she had long tried to forget. She sifted through the contents of a dusty old box, memories flooded her mind with an intensity she hadn't felt in months. Each item she unearthed struck her heart in ways that made her uncomfortable, a relic of a love once consumed by every thought and emotion.

Among the treasures she tried to forbet lay a delicate silver anklet, its tiny bells tinkling softly as Cleotha held it in her hands. Memories of lazy summer days and whispered promises rushed back to her, painting vivid scenes of youthful romance and boundless dreams.

“What’s this?” Cleotha asked as she was handed a small, velvet bag. Her movements were sluggish as she peeled herself off the pillow she and Joe shared. The soft moan she pushed out was enough to make his insides stir again.

Joe pulled his arm behind his head and drummed his fingers against his sheet-covered thigh. A small smile pulled on his lips as he shrugged. “Open it.”

Cleotha held the sheet to her chest and shook the bag. Jingle, jangle. Her eyebrow quipped as she opened the bag and dumped the content in her hand. Two thin gold chains fell out, shining under the gaze of the sun. She hummed in awe as she fingered the chains delicately. “Two bracelets?”

“Bracelet and anklet,” Joe replied with extra emphasis, a teasing tone underlying in his words. Cleotha, who knew exactly why he bought it, threw her head back in laughter. She muttered, “You’re disgusting.” Still, she held her wrist out for him to place the bracelet on it.

Joe pulled the sheet back to reveal her brown legs. He readjusted their positions so he was in between her legs, her foot against his bare thigh. Cleotha watched intently as he hooked the gold chain around her ankle. He smiled in pride.

“You like it?” Cleotha asked, rotating her foot in a circle. Joe hummed and palmed her thigh, hooking her leg around his waist. He brought his lips to hers, nipping and sucking at the plushness there. Then, he made his way back down, pecking at her collarbone down to her calf once more, placing her leg over his shoulder.

“I do. I’ll like it even more in a second. Lay back.”

He made her feel so beautiful that day, glistening like jewels beneath the sunlight. Next to it, a necklace adorned with the initials 'J' gleamed in the dim light. She tried to smile as she recalled when she first received it.

“Joe!” she gasped. “This is beautiful! Will you put it on me, please?”

“Of course. Turn around for me.”

The smile on her face was childlike as she stood back to chest with her lover. His warm hands pushed her hair over her shoulder then wrapped the chain around her neck. The gold complimented her skin beautifully. He connected the link to the clasp and tapped her hip when he finished. “Let me see, sweetheart.”

Cleotha Jean grinned as she posed in front of him, the J on her chest smiling back at him. Joe nodded in approval, “Looks pretty, baby.”

“You think so?” she gushed, running her fingers off the pendant. “Want a closer look?” Cleotha pulled him in by his belt loops and pushed him against the bed, climbing on top of him. SHe wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed butterfly-like kisses all along his face. His cheeks were stained red from her lips,

Joe’s eyebrow raised in amusement as he welcomed her affection, His eyes dropped to the pendant that swung against her chest. “Yes ma’am.”

But it was the worn envelope nestled at the bottom of the box that stirred something deep within Cleotha's soul. With trembling fingers, she traced the creases of the paper, feeling the weight of years of unspoken words and unanswered prayers. As she unfolded the letter, the words spilled forth like a long-forgotten melody, each line a poignant reminder of a love that had once defined her very existence.

The park was their favorite place to be. Especially during the month of September. The sun still hugged them, but didn’t suffocate them with her warmth. Nature sung its harmonious song, the animals danced with each other amongst the trees, and the grass was still a bright green. It was a peaceful place to be.

It was like every other weekend; Cleotha Jean and Joe were sprawled across a picnic blanket with a basket of food propped open in front of them. Joe was lying on his back while Cleotha sat upright munching on strawberries and coloring in her book.

“Cleo,” Joe said. Cleotha hummed and continuing coloring her flower. “I wrote you a letter.”

Her coloring stopped. She swallowed the remainder of her strawberry and dropped her colored pencil. Joe reached behind him for a white envelope that he managed to tuck under the blanket without her noticing. He extended it to her, which she took with thanks.

Joe watched as Cleotha curiously peeled open the envelope and retrieved the letter. It was folded in threes, and was filled from top to bottom.

My forever sweetheart, Cleotha Jean,

You don’t understand that I wake up everyday and give thanks that you walked into my life. I felt that I was nothing but a poor kid with seemingly nothing to offer the world until you showed me otherwise.

I didn’t think it was possible to love someone more than I loved myself. Your existence proves me otherwise.

I often wonder if you know that you are a gift in human form. Wrapped in a brown shell, garnished with gold. I wish to keep you with me forever, as long as you’ll have me.

I often think about our future together. How I’m going to marry you as soon as we graduate. We’ll buy a house, travel the world, and have children. I’m still banking on 3, but whatever you want, I’ll be content. As long as I’m with you, I’ll take anything.

I want to be yours forever, if you’d have me.

Will you marry me?

The letter flew from Cleotha’s hands as she screamed loudly. The birds above her croaked at her sudden outburst. Her hands flew over her mouth and she finally made eye contact with her lover, who’d positioned himself on one knee with an open box in his hand.

The ring was beautiful. It was dainty, just as she liked, and a rich shade of gold. His eyes were hopeful as he awaited her reaction.

“Will you—“

“Yes!” Cleotha replied gleefully. She threw her arms around him so wildly that he fell backward into the grass. His laughs were music to her ears. “Yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you.”

Joe smiled, “Yeah?”

Cleotha bit back a teary smile and nodded. “Yeah. It’s you and me forever.”

Her sweet baby. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until she finished the letter and a puddle of tears smudged his neat handwriting. Cleotha folded the letter and put it back in the box, right next to the ring she took off months prior. It stared back at her and she forced herself to look away. She didn’t want to keep it, but Joe insisted she did, saying “it’s yours. I will never take back what rightfully belongs to you.”

With each memory unearthed, Cleotha found herself transported back to a time when love was pure, and the future seemed to be filled with promise. Yet, as she traced the contours of her past, a sense of longing stirred within her, a yearning for the man who had once held her heart in his hands.

She should’ve been over him by now, she scolded herself. Their union had ended more than a year ago; what was she holding onto? Well, another side of her probed. A three year relationship that began in college, an engagement, wedding planning, house hunting, and a planned future. It all dimished at the blink of an eye. It would take more than a year to recover from such emotional trauma.

Cleotha befriended a bottle of red wine after that. It was sweet and savory, just like him. She chuckled lowly as her fingers dapped away the drop that fell from the corner of her lips. She should slow down, she figured, but it was the anniversary of a love that she cherished more than herself. She owed it to herself to get wine drunk and eat popcorn, right?

She tucked her feet under herself and poured another glass, humming a tune, though nothing particular, to herself. Just as she brought the glass to her lips, a knock sounded on her door. Her eyebrow quipped as her eyes darted to a nearby clock. It was 9:32 on a Saturday night, who could have been at her door.

“Hold on!” she called out, glass in hand as she stumbled lightly to reach the door. She cursed as she stepped on a shoe that she kicked off in the entryway, toyed with the locks, and peeled the door open. “Oh…”

If anyone would have told her he’d be standing in front of her right now, she would have called them a liar. The communication had been severed eons ago, only having heard from him when she got the job promotion she had been praying for. Any other conversation, interaction, or moment of desire, was a faction of her imagination. Yet, here he stood, a ghost from her past, with sorrow etched in his eyes and regret weighing heavily on his shoulders. And she had no clue how to handle it.

She didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or throw herself in his arms. He looked so different than when she last saw him. He was broader, presumably from working out to keep in shape as he moved on from his athlete days. His hair was still platinum, but it was slicked back rather than messible touseled, though she loved it that way. His eyes, so gorgeous and blue, were so sad and empty.

“Hi, Cleo…”

Cleotha’s eyes welled with tears. She’d yell, scream, and put him in his place in the morning, but right now, all she could do is throw her arms around his neck and cry woefully into his shirt. With a voice choked with an emotion, she found the strength to say, “I missed you.” Her voice trembled with vulnerability. “I missed you so much.”

And in Joe's eyes, Cleotha saw a flicker of longing that mirrored her own. They stood in the doorway of her home without the exchange of words. The tears and gentle touches spoke loud enough. Maybe in due time, what was broken could be repaired, and the union that began years ago, could be recovered. Just maybe.

—

likes are great, but feedback is desired as well, friends! thanks for reading!

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #the boys in the boat #tbitb #callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner x black reader #callum turner x reader #joe rantz x cleotha jean by saturnville #joe rantz x reader #joe rantz x black!reader #joe rantz #major john egan x reader #john egan x reader #Spotify

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ak-dolly · 1 month

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#callum turner #the boys in the boat #fantastic beats and where to find them #the only living boy in new york #fantastic beasts #girlblogger #girlblogging #tbitb #joe rantz #theseus scamander #thomas webb #aesthetic #movies

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seasidesandstarscapes · 8 days

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The JV announcement for @savvylittlecoxswain

(but also free use if anyone wants 'em)

#the boys in the boat #tbitb #joe rantz #callum turner #bobby moch #luke slattery #don hume #jack mulhern #joycs simdars #chuck day #roger morris #shorty hunt #jim mcmillin #gordy adam #johnny white #salix's sideblog escapades

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tetragonia · 1 month

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just some close ups...

#HIS SMIRK ON THE THIRD GIF OMG #don hume #the boys in the boat #tbitb #jack mulhern #don hume edit #don hume gif #jack mulhern edit #thebboysintheboat #tbitb don hume #movies #don hume gifs #tetrapost don hume #tetrapost tbitb #tetragifs

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ariadnethedragon · 2 months

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THE BOYS IN THE BOAT (2023)

Dir. George Clooney

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reyenii · 24 days

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DON HUME & BOBBY MOCH real life vs. movie

#its been in my drafts for a MONTH😭#idk the fandom is still alive #but i’ve a few posts with them #which i’ll try to post in the near future #the boys in the boat #tbitb #bobby moch #don hume #luke slattery #jack mulhern #coxstroke

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strokemycoxswain · 14 days

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people keep calling Don a “big guy” and sure he’s tall and maybe that’s what qualifies him as “big.” but I don’t think everyone realizes how much weight Jack lost to play this role. he went from a big, athletic, and shapely guy to having a flat, verging concave stomach and having visible vertebrae. it completely changed his face too, it didn’t take his cuteness away, but it made it slightly severe and tired.

I want to point this out because it shows Jack’s dedication, but also it reveals something about Don.

Don Hume was a HUNGRY role.

#the boys in the boat #don hume #tbitb #jack mulhern

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dustyjumpwjngs · 4 months

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guys, there is officially more than three photos of this man. rejoice

#his slides? period #really searched far and wide #his sweater vest really do be doing something to me #his side profile so scrumptious #luke slattery #bobby moch #tbitb #bitb #the boys in the boat

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kcsplace · 3 days

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I love the attention to little details in TBITB As a cox, Bobby would have to keep his weight down. George Pocock designed his shells for a 120lb max weight of a cox with them preferably being a bit lighter, and Bobby Moch was 119, so about perfect. But while he'd not have had the same conditioning regime as the crew, he'd have been running, sweating in saunas, and generally eating as little as possible to keep small. He literally wouldn't be pulling his weight, so he had to be light.

So while his boyfriend crew were piling their plates high in Poughkeepsie with meats and potatoes and eggs, fats and carbs, Bobby's plate was tomatoes, steamed veggies and was small even then.

For contrast - Don and Joe tucking in vs Bobby's plate

Just a little background moment, but a character moment. Joe and Don in particular (alongside another couple of the crew) were grindingly poor and always hungry. Joe was infamously able to eat and eat and eat, always hungry and never full. That Joe and Don have their plates full isn't just a moment that informs their place as athletes - rowers, esp olympic rowers, consume an insane number of calories, to the point where it can be a literal chore to eat that much to get the nutrients they need - but also their place in society, during The Depression. Never enough anything. Never enough money, never enough food, never enough heat, never enough security. Make hay while the sun shines - the party has food? Eat until you can't anymore because who knows when it's gonna be this good again

Little details, man, they make a movie.

#tbitb #bobby moch #don hume #joe rantz #luke slattery #jack mulhern #callum turner #the boys in the boat

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deadpoets · 3 months

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BOBBY MOCH'S OUTFITS in The Boys in the Boat (2023)

#the boys in the boat #tbitbedit #bobby moch #theboysintheboatedit #tbitb #luke slattery #*mine #*mygifs #i just think that outfits from the 30s are vv cute

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luckyricochet · 4 months

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Bobby Moch, Washington's #1 Troll

THE BOYS IN THE BOAT (2024)

#tbitb #tbitbedit #theboysintheboatedit #the boys in the boat #filmedit #perioddramaedit #weloveperioddrama #luke slattery #bobby moch #mine #mine: gifs

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saturnville · 3 months

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wear the gold, joe rantz

pairing: joe rantz (the boys in the boat) x black fem oc (cleotha jean)

content: joe wins the gold and promises that cleotha will get to wear it.

an: one thing I love is writing period fics, making my own world, and putting black women as the lead. mwah.

Cleotha Jean was an intelligent woman. She began reading at the age of three, writing short stories by seven, and conducted a college-level research presentation at the age of 13. Education was her one-way ticket to success and transformation of her family trajectory. She worked hard in school and made it a priority. Her efforts paid off, as she was granted a full scholarship to a nearby all-girls college for Black women. She was one step closer to becoming the award-winning historian and geographer she desired to be.

Her desire for greatness never ceased, even on a college campus, where having fun and doing “college student things” was welcomed, especially with the neighboring all-boys college. Cleotha had no desire to partake in the weekend drunkenness or hookups. She found joy in researching Greek mythology and listening to the her boyfriend’s rowing match on the small radio at her desk.

Cleotha Jean was dedicated to her studies, yes, but she made sure to make time for other aspects of her life to flourish. Including her love life. During her first year of college, she found herself becoming the apple of Joe Rantz’s baby blue eyes.

They crossed paths at the lake that the schools in the city often visited on the weekends. While sitting on her beach towel with her best friend, a soccer ball came flying across the air, but a strong pair of hands caught it just before it hit her.

Cleotha squealed as her hands came up to block her face. Her book flew from her lap, the page lost in its spiral in the air. She grunted in irritation. Her fingers pushed her sunglasses on her forehead, her eyes scanning the vicinity for the culprit.

“I’m sorry, miss. Are you okay?” asked a voice that was unfamiliar. It caused her ears to perk up in interest. She turned to the right to see a very handsome man crouched in front of her, soccer ball tucked beneath his arm. Her eyes scanned his face: dark eyebrows, ocean-blue eyes, straight nose, and full lips. His hair was platinum blonde and tussled from a day’s activities.

“I’m fine, thank you. Nice save,” she managed to joke with a chuckle. The boy laughed lightly and shrugged. “I try my best. Your book.” He handed her the book that landed at her feet, his thumb between the pages.

“Thank you.”

“Reading the Odyssey for fun, huh?” he questioned. Cleotha glanced at her book, sandfilled and battered. It had been her favorite book since she’d read it during her freshman year of high school. She nodded and smiled. “Consider me a mythology enthusiast.”

He nodded in interest. “Interesting. You’ve got to teach me a thing or two. I only know about Hercules.” That drew a giggle from her. He smiled softly. “Sure. I’m Cleotha.” She stuck her hand out, which was light as a feather in his calloused one.

“Joe. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Cleotha smiled again. From her peripheral, she noticed his friends eyeing their interaction. She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. She peeled her book open again. “Looks like your friends are looking for you.” Joe turned back.

“I’m kinda intrigued about this Odyssey you’ve got going on. You gonna be here for a while?”

Cleotha nodded.

Joe stood to his feet and dusted off his swim trunks. Cleotha’s eyes fell to his define figure before ascending to his eyes. “Gonna finish this game, then I’m coming back for you, sweetheart!”

Cleotha smiled softly at the memory. Her notetaking was interrupted by the sudden commotion over the line.

“And if I could say something to my girl Cleo back home if you’re listening…” Her ears perked up at the voice. “I’ll let you wear the gold medal when I get back.”

She dropped her pen against her book and squealed. “Oh my goodness! He did it!” She scrambled around her room in excitement. All the hard work, blood, sweat, and tears had finally paid off. She couldn't have been more proud.

A few days later, Cleotha was preparing to go to bed when a knock on the door interrupted the soft melody playing in her room, causing her heart to skip a beat. She paused, a smile tugging at her lips as she recognized the familiar rhythm of Joe's knock. With eager anticipation, she hurried to the door and swung it open, revealing Joe standing there with a tender smile lighting up his face.

"Cleo," he breathed, his voice soft and filled with affection as he took in the sight of her.

"Hi, doll," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes shining with love as she reached out to take his hand, pulling him gently into her room.

Joe kicked his beaten sneakers off his feet and placed them next to the door. He slid his full backpack off his shoulders and tossed it in the corner. She assumed he wanted to stay with her. Cleotha couldn't help but admire the way Joe filled the space with his presence, his warmth wrapping around her like a familiar embrace. She closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the room as they stood face to face, the air buzzing with the electricity of their shared connection.

“Ooh, baby, I am so proud of you!” Cleotha squealed, jumping up and down. She flung herself in his arms, pulling a hearty chuckle from Joe’s lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her tight. “Congratulations. I heard the race on the radio. It was a well-deserved win.”

“Oh,” Joe said, pulling away from her just slightly. He dug his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt, saying, "Surprise.” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he revealed a small box nestled in the palm of his hand.

Cleotha's breath caught in her throat as she watched him with bated breath, her heart racing with anticipation. With trembling hands, she reached out to take the box from him, her fingers brushing against his in a tender caress. “Is this what I think it is?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Open it and find out," Joe replied, his voice filled with a hint of excitement as he watched her with eager anticipation.

With trembling fingers, Cleotha carefully untied lifted the lid of the box, her breath catching in her throat as she caught sight of the delicate medal nestled inside. It was a simple in design, but it was beautiful. Heavy and rich. A physical manifestation of the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put in to get to this point. The gold medal.

"Oh, my goodness," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion as she lifted the medal from the box, her eyes brimming with tears. "It's beautiful. I am so proud of you, really. This is amazing.”

Joe smiled softly, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached out to take the medal from her hands, his fingers brushing against her skin in a gentle caress as he adjusted it around her neck. “Wait, Joe…” He hummed in response, saying, “I told you I’d let you wear it, didn’t I?” She clamped her lips to limit any further protest. Cleotha’s fingers danced over it in wonder as her eyes gleamed with awe. Her boyfriend was a gold medalist.

She met his eyes, which were low as he took in the picture of her dressed in his shirt and shorts with his prized possession around her neck. He smirked. A sight to behold.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice filled with love and gratitude as he moved to place a gentle kiss on her lips. "I couldn't have done it without you. Love you forever…”

Cleotha smiled, a warmth spreading across her face as she brushed a stray lock of hair from hisface, his touch as gentle as a whisper. "I love you, too.”

#saturnville #original writing #black!reader #black reader #joe rantz #the boys in the boat #joe rantz x reader #joe rantz x black!reader #callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner x black!reader #tbitb #major john egan #major john egan x black reader #major john egan x black!reader #major john egan x reader #mota #masters of the air

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okieedokes · 6 days

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girl worth writing to | john egan x f!reader

summary : john pays you a visit while he’s on leave and things get melodramatic lol

warnings : brief mention of suicide, doesn't exactly follow the events of the show

word count : 888

The vibration of gentle snores rouse you from your sleep, your eyes search for the clock ticking away on your nightstand.

5:04 am

The sun had barely risen yet and you cursed yourself for being such a light sleeper, knowing the day you had ahead of you. However, the sight of shirtless John Egan dozing peacefully beside you was certainly one for sore eyes. You lifted a hand to his disheveled curls and attempted to stroke them back into place, whilst your mind replayed the events of the night before…

5:34 pm

You had just returned to your flat from another agonising day at the infirmary, to the incessant ring of the telephone. You are hesitant to answer, as you are sure it’s your head nurse, calling to inform you there’s been another emergency and you would need to return.

With a deep breath you lower yourself onto the edge of the bed and retrieve the telephone.

“Hello?…” You had meant to use a more formal introduction but simply couldn’t find the strength.

“Y/N?! It’s me, Bucky! You remember?” He teased.

You had half the mind to pretend you had forgotten the pilot after not hearing a word from him in almost six months.

“Unfortunately, I do remember.” You mask your tone with sarcasm.

“Atta girl!” He remarked and you found yourself repressing a smile as you imagined the cheeky grin on his face.

“I just completed my twenty-fifth mission today and it was frankly very nearly my last, so they’re graciously giving me the weekends leave!” He boasts sarcastically and you suppress a giggle.

“Lucky Buck!” You retort and hear him scoff.

“Anyways, I was thinking I’d come pay you and London a visit…that’s if you’d have me, of course.”

You take a pause, pretending you have a choice. Unfortunately the truth of the matter was that you’d take the Major in, always and forever no-matter the heartache, come his departure.

“Do you still remember the address?” You asked, placing a hand to your stomach in an attempt to ease the brewing butterflies.

“I couldn’t forget if I tried sweetheart, I’ll see you soon enough.” He teased playfully and ended the call.

You sighed at the realisation that you would have to spend all evening making your tired self presentable for the pilot, knowing deep down that for John it would always be worth it.

5:36 am

You jump at the feeling of his large hand wrap around your wrist that was still embedded in his hair. You feel your cheeks grow bright red as you push your body towards the opposite side of the bed.

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean you scare ya.” He croaks in his deep morning voice that never fails to make your knees weak.

“That’s okay! I need to get ready for my shift anyways.” You stutter wrapping yourself in the bedsheet as you crawl out of bed.

“Y/N please…” Bucky groans and grasps at the sheet that is now tightly wound around your shivering frame.

“You always do this…it’s too early and it’s bloody freezing.” He pleads and gently pulls you back into the bed and his embrace, gently guiding your into head to the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry I scared you…twenty-five missions…it’s starting to get to me now, I think.” He admits whilst stroking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I can only imagine the horrors you boys have endured…” You whisper.

“You would probably understand more than most Y/N…what with the hospital and all the bombings.” He adds, his tone soft and comforting as he continues to stroke your hair. This is not the witty and sarcastic John you were familiar with.

“I suppose you could say that.” You mumble as you fidget with the dog tag that hangs around his neck, a cruel reminder.

“I guess it doesn’t help that I have this American pilot of mine who when I’m sure has gone and died on me-”You attempt a teasing tone but it falls flat.

“What’s all this about me being a goner? Don’t you have any faith Y/N?” He interjects, his tone only half joking.

“Well you never write or call? What am I supposed to think?!” You feel anger boiling in your chest as you push yourself away from him.

“Or maybe I’m just not worth writing to!” You accuse before John had time to even consider a response to your sudden outburst.

“I promise it’s nothing like that Y/N… you know how I feel about you. Christ! I wouldn’t be using my weekend off like this if I didn’t have feelings for you!” He scrambles to defuse the situation, knowing your spirited ways.

“Oh really?!” You mock.

“Y/N these missions, they’re suicide! I couldn’t never let you get involved with me now! It would be cruel!” His statement cuts the conversation like a knife, silence falling over the entire flat.

A tear rolls down your cheek as you stifle a sob.

“I-I’m sorry John…but I think I’m already…involved.” You stutter.

The pilot sighs, using the bedsheet gathered around your waist to pull you back down into the mattress, so now you are pinned underneath him. There's nowhere to hide.

“If you only knew how many times I’ve heard your voice in my head or seen your face in a crowd…” He whispers whilst gently placing a kiss to each of your tear soaked cheeks.

“You’re my girl…I’m sorry I ever made your feel like you weren't worth writing to.” His tone is soft but sincere.

Without looking away, he reaches for a scrap of paper that was resting atop your bedside table.

“In fact I’ll start right now…My dearest Y/N…” He declares in a exaggerated british accent and you playful slap his shoulder, giving him permission to attack you with kisses again.

When he finally pulls away your eyes meet and you raise a hand to his cheek.

“Come back to me, Major Egan.” The words tumble out before you even able to acknowledge they are there.

“Always.” He whispers, before burying is head in your chest. It wasn't long before you feel his soft snores radiating against your body again.

#john egan #John Egan x reader #callum turner #masters of the air #mota #callum turner x reader #tbitb #bucky egan

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