#because john not only left his kids alone for multiple days

[samwinchesterdefender]

sam winchester and dogs - analysis

nobody really seems to talk about this. the other day, i saw that clip of sam and dean going through the memory of the time sam ran away for the first time in a while, and it made me think. we only see sam with dogs a handful of times in the series, at least owning them, and there’s a reason for that— dogs are a symbol of imperfect happiness for sam winchester.

⚠️there will be MAJOR spoilers in this post⚠️

example 1 - bones

we see bones in the episode when dean and sam are going through some of their best memories. one of sam’s is the time he ran away for two weeks and hid somewhere with a dog he found—bones—and lived off “funions and mr pibb”. people often criticize him for this in favor of dean, because dean tells him that john beat him for losing sam. however, people don’t really seem to mention the backstory for this (probably? not all the details line up, but this is seemingly the first time sam ran away) that we got for this later in the episode with sully.

in the episode, we get flashbacks of one part of sam’s childhood: dean and john were on another hunt and wouldn’t let him come with. he had asked sully, “ever think… about running away?” which sparked a conversation about sam’s future which ended in sam deciding to actually run away and ended with a cut back to present day.

sam had decided to run away because he was tired of feeling unvalued and hated the way he was currently living. he didn’t really hate his family— he was just a kid sick of being alone with no promise of change soon. when he ran away, though, he was still alone. he was just alone without promise of dean and john being home in a few days. he thought it would fix his problems, but it didn’t. he didn’t have the greatest relationship with john, but he did love dean. he didn’t really show it as a kid but dean was the only one who showed him real love, and he needed that. he didn’t have that anymore.

this is the first instance sam is shown owning a dog, and it comes after sam ran away for something he thought would fix his life but ended up not really measuring up in the end. he was ripped back from his little adventure right back into his old life. he couldn’t escape. he was free,

but he didn’t have dean.

example 2 - riot

one of the WORST plot lines on this show. i’ll say that. weird choice for sam. regardless, it stands with the analysis.

we all know how sam hit the dog and went to live with amelia instead of looking for dean. it came from the idea that dean used that one time they had evidently agreed on where if one of them died, the other would live a normal life. personally i don’t think sam would have actually done this at this point in the show, but whatever. dean had lisa and ben, and this was sam’s version. sam’s chance at normalcy. we see bits of his life with amelia develop over multiple episodes, and he was even living with her. amelia made him happy. and they really showed that dog a lot.

the dog lived with them, obviously. the second instance of sam owning a dog. sam was trying to start this new life for himself of being a guy who settles down with someone and lives his life in peace. of course, that didn’t really end up working for him, as he left amelia to go back to hunting.

yet again, we have a dog present during a time sam was trying to escape his problems and start over. sam was starting to get this life for himself that he never really thought he would have, but that he always had as an unattainable dream. he was free,

but he didn’t have dean.

example 3 - miracle

the final instance shown of sam owning a dog. dean had found this one, which, as we’ve seen from the takeaway of the two previous examples, was actually foreshadowing of dean’s death in the final episode.

unfortunately, we all remember how 15x20 starts with sam and dean in a semi-normal life. they’ve beat chuck. they’ve saved the world multiple times, and lost so many people in the process. they finally get some normalcy, while still keeping up the little hunting jobs. and then dean somehow dies on that damn rusty rebar.

immediately proceeding is what i can remember through heavy tears as an extremely sad montage of sam living his life without dean, permanently, with parallels to earlier scenes in the episode. then we get that shot of sam and miracle watching dean’s body burn.

dean had unknowingly found sam a companion before he died. this was what sam had left of his big brother. a dog. he took that dog with him when he left the bunker, and took care of him until the day he died. they had both loved that dog. sam had gotten a taste of a free life— a free life with his brother, unshackled by world-threatening evils. that was then forcibly taken away from him in an instant. he was once again alone. alone with miracle. he was free,

but he didn’t have dean.

#sam ily #sam winchester #sammy winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean #supernatural #spn #supernatural analysis #sam meta #THIS IS NOT WINCEST WINCESTIES DO NOT INTERACT

[whumpinaheartbeat]

I Am Not Alone (I have all of you) Mediwhump May 2023 Day 5 No Response

This fic contains accidental overdose, unconsciousness and shock, please read with discretion.

If Gordon was going to ignore him then he could have at least give Alan a reason as to why.

It wasn’t like Alan had set up any pranks against him recently, unless Gordon had finally found the stash of rubber ducks in his cupboard, so surely this couldn’t be because of a prank gone wrong and as far as Alan knew, he hadn’t made any big mistakes during missions recently so it wasn’t that either.

Alan could not think of a single reason for Gordon to ignore him and yet no matter how many texts he sent and how many times he called out for him, Alan got no response.

Alan had gotten so bored waiting for Gordon to join him to start their monthly Bad Movie Marathon that he had even checked the repair schedule just to see if Gordon had simply been distracted with working on his Thunderbird but apparently all the maintenance and repairs had already been completed. Alan checked the maintenance bay anyway just in case but Gordon wasn’t there.

Gordon wasn’t swimming laps either, another activity he could get lost in for hours, and Alan couldn’t even find him on the beach when he went all the way down there. Alan tried to hail Gordon on his comm again as he trudged back up to the house but once again there was absolutely no response.

Honestly Alan would have become a little worried if he wasn’t outright pissed. They had already missed the last three months of Bad Movie Marathons and Gordon had promised him multiple times that they would actually get around to it this time around. Alan had been stupid to believe him, he should have known that Gordon would find something more interesting to do than spend time with him.

Alan threw himself onto the couch with a huff, lying there for all of three seconds before he got bored. Alan flipped over, crossed his arms, huffed again for good measure and finally sat up fully.

“John,” Alan called. 

Within a second a blue projection of John Tracy appeared and Alan was glad to see at least one of his brothers had time for him.

“Alan, I’d love to talk but I’ve got both Virgil and Scott on pretty intense rescues.”

Maybe not then.

“All good.” Alan mumbled. “See ya later.”

“Actually, Alan wa-“

Alan was already on his way towards the kitchen. Kayo was on a secret mission so Alan couldn’t contact her either so apparently and with Grandma on a much needed holiday, he was going to enjoy this Bad Movie Marathon all by himself so he may as well get the popcorn started. 

It wasn’t that Alan didn’t understand that his family had very important work to do that made it that they couldn’t always hang out with him, Alan himself has had to rain check on plans before when missions went for longer than expected. But at the end of the day, he did sometimes get frustrated. 

He didn’t like being alone, not for more than a couple hours at a time. Being one of five brothers had helped that, there was always someone for him to annoy when all the others were busy. It was hard to be lonely surrounded by not only the other Tracy boys but also Grandma and Kayo and Brains and all the other important people in their lives like Lady Penelope and Parker. 

But with Gordon apparently ignoring his entire existence and not answering any of his calls and being no where to be found on the island and all of the others busy, Alan found himself dragging his feet towards the pantry to find the popcorn, undeniably lonely and hating every minute of it.

If anything, the acknowledgment just made him all the more grumpy feeling like some kid lost in a supermarket aisle looking for their family. He wasn’t some kid, he was nearly a full blown adult and yet here he was stupidly feeling lonely and left out just because there was no one to talk to. 

Alan considered trying to contact Gordon one more time but decided that Gordon could get fucked and Alan was going to enjoy having an entire bag of popcorn to himself while he watched whatever he felt like. In fact, he might as well have two bags of popcorn to himself because Alan felt like having two packets.

Alan was so pleased with his plan, he hadn’t noticed the body in the pantry until he was already tripping over it, barely keeping himself from landing right on them.

As soon as Alan regained his balance he threw himself on his knees, his heart racing as he flipped the body onto their back. Except it wasn’t just some body, it was Gordon. He was unconscious, his eyes closed and his arm falling limply to the side from how Alan had moved him. 

The first priority was making sure that Gordon was breathing and even as Alan leant down over him to feel Gordon’s breath on his cheek and watch Gordon’s chest rise and fall steadily, Alan’s mind hadn’t quite absorbed what he was seeing. 

Gordon hadn’t been ignoring his calls because he was being annoying, he had been laying here unconscious the entire time Alan had been home and yet Alan had not once noticed that something was wrong. 

It must have been hours, Alan realised, when mere minutes unconscious could have devastating effects on a person’s brain function. Alan didn’t even know why his brother was on the ground like this in the first place, he had no outward sign of injury and while he was breathing deeply and evenly Gordon did not stir when Alan tapped him on the cheek.

There could be a million reasons as to why Gordon could be unresponsive like this and Alan hated every single one of them.

“Gordon?” Alan said loudly. “Gordon, can you hear me?”

Gordon gave no response, not so much as twitching.

Alan was defiantly panicking now, his hands shaking a little as he set two fingers on Gordon’s neck. Like his breathing, Gordon’s pulse was strong and consistent. Even so, something must be wrong with him to be limp on the ground like this. 

“Gordon?” Alan tried again.

Not wanting to move Gordon more than he had to, Alan carefully set him onto his side into the recovery position to keep his airway clear. Alan forced his hands to steady as he reached for his phone from his pocket, knowing that any one of his other brothers would know what to do and how to help.

Alan found nothing in his pocket and he cursed, realising that his phone must have fallen out when he thew himself onto the couch earlier. Alan hated the idea of leaving Gordon here, especially since Gordon had already been alone for god knows how long, but Alan was out of his depths. He had first aid training, sure, but not knowing what caused Gordon to be like this meant that he did not know how to fix it.

“I’ll be right back in just one second, okay?”

Alan almost wished that Gordon would stir then and beg for Alan to stay. Maybe he would sit upright and admit that this was all just some messed up prank and that Gordon had gotten him good this time. Gordon did not stir, nor did he sit up. He just lay there, breathing but otherwise unmoving.

Hesitating for a moment longer just in case Gordon woke up, Alan forced himself to stand on shaking legs. Every step back towards the couch in the living room was jolting and Alan felt guilt tearing through his chest realising that if he had just earnestly looked for Gordon hours ago, he might have found him and gotten him help much sooner. 

Forcing himself to move faster, Alan stopped just short of the couch. His phone wasn’t there. He could contact John the same way he did just a few minutes ago but that would mean leaving Gordon all alone again and Alan simply could not do that.

Alan turned and swiftly made his way back to the pantry.

Gordon was just where Alan had left him, his eyes still closed and his body strangely still. Gordon was never still, he was always a bundle of energy and Alan had always loved that part of him and seeing him so limp brought back up memories that Alan had wanted to forget. 

“Gordon?” Alan said, shaking Gordon’s shoulder slightly. “Come on, you need to wake up.”

Even though Alan could clearly see that Gordon was still breathing, Alan checked his pulse again once more just in case. Gordon’s pulse was steady, he should easily be able to wake up if he wasn’t injured or ill. Alan set the back of his hand on Gordon’s forehead, checking for a fever that wasn’t there.

Alan didn’t understand. People don’t just become unconscious without a reason and yet here Gordon was, no sign of injury or fever with a strong pulse and steady breathing yet still unconscious no matter how many times Alan called out to him.

The only thing that Alan could think of was that maybe this was caused by an overdose. Gordon was on a few different medications to help manage his chronic pain after all, it was definitely a possibility. But Gordon had not thrown up, nor was he showing other clear symptoms that often came with an overdose like difficulty breathing, blue tinged finger tips or…

Fuck, why hadn’t Alan checked Gordon’s pupils yet?

It was such an important step in assessing an unconscious patient yet Alan had been so wrapped up in worry that his brother was lying here unresponsive that he hadn’t even thought to check if Gordon’s eyes were equal and reactive. It could be a concussion with no obvious bump on the head or it could be an overdose after all and Alan had not even checked the tell tale signs because he was an idiot. 

Carefully, Alan opened one of Gordon’s eyes. The pupil was a pinpoint and Alan’s heart dropped.

He scrambled up, rushing towards the rest of the kitchen for the med kit. He found it in the third cupboard he checked, so panicked he barely remembered where it was always kept, knowing that every single moment that passed was a moment that Gordon could be closer to death. 

Alan tore through the med kit, taking another few precious seconds to find the small bottle of narcan that was in every single one of their first aid kits stashed throughout the house and their Thunderbirds. 

Alan shot back to Gordon’s side, nearly dropping the life saving medication as he thew himself onto his knees next to Gordon. Alan administered the Narcan and sat back, his heart still racing as Gordon continued to just lay there.

Not sure if Alan should give Gordon a little bit more Narcan, Alan forced himself to wait a little longer to see if it worked. While Gordon was still currently breathing, Alan could not stand the thought that at any moment his heart could fail and his lungs give out.

Administering another dose of Narcan, Alan began questioning if he even had the right diagnosis as Gordon continued to lay there unresponsive.

“Please…” Alan mumbled, his eyes stinging. “Don’t leave me.”

Gordon jerked forward, amber eyes snapping open as he sucked in a deep breath.

“Gordon!”

“Alan.” Gordon replied.

If Alan wasn’t still incredibly concerned, he may have embraced his brother then and there but the priority was to make sure that Gordon was okay first. If Gordon had indeed had an overdose then the Narcan was just a stop gap and he would still need medical treatment if there was a high enough level of drugs in his system.

Alan placed a hand on Gordon’s chin, twisting his head and checking how Gordon’s eyes responded to both the movement and the light above them.

Gordon slapped the hand away, going so far as to roll his eyes.

“I’m fine.” Gordon said.

“You were literally just unconscious.”

“No I wasn’t.” Gordon said. “I was getting popcorn for the Bad Mov- Why am I on the ground?”

Gordon looked around himself, focus latching onto the Narcan that was still in Alan’s hand. He frowned, blinking a few more times before his shoulders sagged as if realisation at last dawned on him.

“Oh Allie,” Gordon said. “I’m so sorry.”

Alan bit his lip, not letting himself mull over Gordon’s apology. Now that Gordon was conscious, the next priority would be getting him to hospital before he had a chance to overdose again but even when Alan tried to stand up he found that his legs were shaking too badly to support his weight.

Despite what had just happened it was Gordon who stood first, helping Alan up onto his feet, Gordon’s hand not leaving Alan’s elbow even when they were both fully up.

“You overdosed.” Alan whispered, feeling numb.

“I’m okay now.” Gordon said.

“You overdosed.” Alan repeated.

“The doctor readjusted my meds last week,” Gordon explained. “I guess it was too much. Thank you, Alan I’m sorry you had to do… That.”

“I thought you were ignoring me.” Alan said. “You overdosed and I just thought you were ignoring me."

“Alan,” Gordon said. “Are you feeling okay? You’re a little pale.”

“You overdosed.” Alan said again.

Alan knew that his hands were shaking and that his words weren’t making much sense but with the world spinning around him and his brother was not dead but he could have been dead and why couldn’t he get his hands to stop shaking.

“Alan,” Gordon said, his voice oddly distant considering he was standing right there. “I think you should sit back down.”

Alan had to call the hospital. He had to make sure that Gordon got the care he needed, had to make sure that this never happened again. Alan would need to call Scott too and explain that Alan had messed up by not checking in on Gordon sooner. He would have to admit that Gordon could have died because of him, admit that Alan wasn’t anything else but a scared little kid who nearly lost his brother today.

When Alan blinked he was sitting on the couch, a plastic cup of water loosely in his hand. He blinked again, trying to remember how he had gotten there but with a jolt of panic, Alan realised that Gordon was still in danger and here Alan was just sitting on the couch.

“Whoah there, Alan,” A familiar voice said. “You’re okay.”

Alan snapped towards the voice, his heart racing.

“You’ve been unresponsive for a while now,” Virgil said. “How are you feeling?”

“Gordon, he-“

“He’s okay.” Virgil said. “Scott took him to the hospital just as a precaution but they say he’s doing great. He’s going to stay the night but he’ll be back home tomorrow.”

“Gordon doesn’t like the hospital.” Alan said numbly. 

“No,” Virgil smiled. “No he doesn’t but he likes Scott’s lectures a hell of a lot less. Try to drink a little bit, but take it slow.”

Alan needed to know more, he needed to see Gordon himself to make sure that he was actually okay. But then he realised that his mouth was dry and so he downed the whole glass in one go or at least he tried to before Virgil snatched the cup right off him.

“I said slow, you’re still coming down from the shock.”

“Shock?” Alan said dumbly. 

“Yeah, when Scott and I came back from our rescues, we found Gordon sitting here on the couch with you. He was trying to talk to you but you weren’t responding and Gordon had to explain what happened.”

“Gordon overdosed.” Alan said.

“Yeah…” Virgil frowned. “Yeah, he did. But he’s okay now and soon enough you’ll be feeling better too. Now, I’m going to give you back the cup but only on the condition that you drink slowly alright? I really don’t need you making yourself sick.”

“I’m not a child.” Alan said. 

“I didn’t say you were,” Virgil said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t still worry about you, little brother.”

Once Alan had finished the glass, slowly as Virgil kept reminding him, he was feeling a lot more like himself and the world even stopped spinning around him. He tried to stand, wanting to go straight to the hospital but Virgil stopped him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. 

“It’s already late,” Virgil said. “You can see him when he comes home tomorrow.”

“I don’t want him to be alone.”

“Scott is with him.” Virgil promised. “And I’m with you. No one is alone.”

“John’s alone.” Alan whispered.

“Actually,” A new voice said. “I’m here too and Grandma is on her way.”

As Alan watched, John came fully into the living room carrying a large bowl. It was strange seeing him down on Earth and not floating up on Five but Alan could not deny that he was glad to see him and even more glad to smell the popcorn that was in the bowl.

Alan perked up, Virgil setting a hand on his shoulder again as if expecting him to try to stand.

“John,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Alan probably shouldn’t have popcorn just yet.”

“Who said it was for him?” John teased.

John passed the bowl to Alan all the same before settling into his own armchair, Virgil still sitting right beside Alan.

“So,” Virgil said, stealing a kernel. “What movie first?”

“What?” Alan blinked. 

“It’s Bad Movie Marathon night, isn’t it?” Virgil said. “I know I’m not Gordon but I still appreciate bad movies.”

Alan blinked again, still not quite understanding.

“‘Bad’ Is such a subjective term for movies,” John said. “Unless of course you’re talking about the Transformers movies. Then the word ‘bad’ is an apt description.”

“You want to watch something with me?” Alan asked.

“Of course,” Virgil said. “Your pick.”

Alan didn’t care what they watched. He just let himself settle into Virgil’s side, reassuring himself that Gordon was okay and reassuring himself that he was going to be okay too because he wasn’t alone anymore and in fact he never had been.

@mediwhumpmay

#mediwhumpmay2023 #mediwhumpmayday5 #overdose #opioid overdose #whump #whump fic #unconsciousness #Gordon Tracy Whump #thunderbirds are go #accidental overdose

[anna-coded]

“i never thought the child-killing shtriga would kill MY child” says hunter who left his children unattended in a town where a child-killing shtriga was killing children. 

#sorry i'm watching something wicked and this gets me SO heated #even if we DO ignore the whole 'left his 10 year old to look after his 6 year old for multiple days' #he is soooooo stupid #say dean didn't 'screw up' and leave sam unattended #john is counting on dean being a good enough shot to kill the near-invincible monster attacking sam #and not accidentally shoot sam? #and that's assuming dean wouldn't be asleep at the time? #dean could have done everything perfectly and one of them STILL could have died #because john not only left his kids alone for multiple days #but left them alone in a situation he KNEW was dangerous because he was hunting the thing making it dangerous #edit someone reminded me about the bait possibility GOD. #anti john winchester #john

[chocolatecakecas]

The Fabric of Your Life

@spnprideweek day 1: coming out/flags

warnings: internalized biphobia, implied past physical abuse, alcohol mention

The first time Dean watched Star Wars, he was ten and his dad dumped him and Sammy at some crappy motel with a promise that he'd return soon. Dad hadn't bothered to register either of them in the local school, since it was supposed to be a "milkrun", so by day four they were both climbing the walls. And Dean was sick of it, so he took the money he had left, after buying a box of cereal and a three pack of mac and cheese at the gas station, and dragged Sammy to the video store he saw when they drove into town. He rented, Star Wars: A New Hope because he remembered some kid at their last school wouldn't shut up about it, and wow was that kid right. Dean loved everything about it, especially Han Solo, with his fast ship, and his blaster and his cool hair and, smooth talking. Every time he was on screen, Dean got this weird funny, excited feeling in his tummy, and he assumed it was because he wanted to be just like him when he grew up.

(read the rest under the cut or read on ao3)

It was the same feeling he'd get later, whenever he caught an old western at the movies and Clint Eastwood or John Wayne would saunter across the screen, but he tried not to think about it too hard.

When Dean was fifteen they were stuck in some small town in Nebraska for four months. The town was shit, but Dean had luckily made friends with this guy named Jake Preston who was two years older than him. They were practically inseparable, sneaking into movies, late night joyrides in Jake's crappy pick up, swiping beers from Mr. Preston to drink under the bleachers. And sometimes when Jake would do a successful donut with his truck, or con their way out of trouble, or wink at Dean before he snuck them out of school early, he'd get that same funny feeling in his stomach. But Dean would just chalk it up to admiring the guy for being so smooth and getting away with anything. Of course until the night they were drunk on the bleachers and Jake grabbed Dean by the shirt, smashing their lips together. And after the momentary shock, Dean found himself pulling Jake closer for more. But then Jake angrily shoved him away, as if it was Dean's fault and left without a word, leaving him alone under the bleachers, terrified about what he had just done and wondering if Jake would tell anyone at school. But it didn't matter because they quickly left town the next day, his Dad saying he finished up the hunt, so for years, Dean would just shove that memory off as a drunken accident.

When Dean was twenty, he kissed Lee Webb for the first time. They had snuck off while their Dads wrapped up the hunt, swiping a few of John's beers before heading to their motel room. They acted like assholes, loudly recalling the antics they had got up to on the hunt. And Dean found himself unable to look away from Lee's smile, his eye, his arms, laughing loudly at his jokes and felt that funny feeling in his stomach whenever Lee would laugh. And the next thing Dean knew, he was kissing him like he'd done with girls hundreds of times, but hadn't with another boy sinc-not in years. But unlike with girls, Dean was quickly pulling away horrified at his own actions. But then Lee was pulling him back in, deepening the kiss as he struggled to get Dean's flannel unbuttoned. And just as Dean was starting to realize that Lee wasn't going to angrily shove him away, and that maybe this was okay, he heard the door unlock, and was met with a very drunk John Winchester, who quickly made his opinions about the scene before him, known. And Dean quickly realized that he couldn't just push off this off as some drunken mistake, because that's the moment when he first knew.

And now at age 42, he's happily married with a handful of kids that are his in every way that matters, living in the suburbs with a big kitchen and a deck out back, and it should make those moments feel like a lifetime ago.

But he's still somehow there. They're still fresh in his mind as if they happened a few days ago, the feeling of fear still fresh. Even though he's come so damn far, he's gotten farther than he ever thought he would, he still feels like that terrified little kid again.

All because of some stupid, flimsy piece of fabric.

And Dean knows it's ridiculous. He's married to a man for gods sake, a man who he kisses in public and fights with in the grocery store and who's hand he holds when they walk down the street. And it's not like he's worried about anyone's reaction, since they were all at the wedding, they've been to dinner at their house multiple time, not to mention it would be a little hypocritical of pretty much everyone he knows.

And Dean knows all of that, but he still just feels li-

With a heavy sigh, Dean sits on the corner of the bed running his hands through his hair.

Because it's not that he doesn't want the "label", or thinks that he needs to have it or thinks the label is wrong. He wants the label. He likes the idea of being able to call it something. And he knows it's the right one because during the very few times he was brave enough to google it, he realized it was the one that fits the best.

So why can't he just hav-

Pulling his hands away from his face, he slowly turns to look across the bed, heart leaping into his throat when he catches sight of it. And he finds himself frozen, unable to look a way, let alone reach out for it.

And Dean knows he's being ridiculous because he's faced far worse than this. He's died so many times he's lost count, he's saved the world multiple times, he's killed monsters, ancient cosmic beings, been to other dimensions, he's fought Heaven and Hell, and damnit he's even fought God.

But after all of that, he's still afraid of a little fucking scrap of pink, purple and blue fabric currently clashing with the floral comforter. Paralyzed by fear at the sight of it.

So with a grunt Dean practically launches himself across the bed grabbing the offending object and he's on his feet again pacing around the room.

It's just a piece of fabric. It's just a word.

But you know it's more than that.

And something drops deep in the pit of Dean's stomach, as that familiar feeling of fear continues to creep over him, consuming his thoughts.

Because it's more than just a piece if fabric, it's more than just a word and Dean knows that. To him it means something more, and god he wants to have what it means.

Why can't he just let himself wan-

Dean's footsteps stall, and he finds himself standing in front of the mirror.

And when he meets his gaze, all he can see is that confused little boy looking back, that terrified fifteen year old kid, the twenty year old who was just caught and nearly killed by his own Da-no.

Dean shuts that thought down while he's ahead. Because he learned a long time ago not to let his father dictate his life choices, he learned how to stop letting his ghost prevent him from doing what he wants. He's already worked through and made peace with that trauma, well as much as you can work through that kinda crap, that is. But he's come a long way, he's married, he's got kids, he's got a family, he's got a life that he's damn proud of. So he's sure as hell not not gonna let John Winchester have a place in this.

Because this is about Dean. And what Dean wants.

So shaking his head, Dean finds his eyes in the mirror again.

It's just a piece of fabric. It's just a word. And it's a word Dean wants to own. It's a piece of fabric Dean wants to hold. So why the hell can't he just le-

Because you still can't let yourself have what you want.

His heart skips in his chest as he grips the dresser attached to the mirror

After everything he's been through. After saving the world, and Cas's confession, and the wedding, and the house in the suburbs. He let himself have Cas, but he can't let himself have this thing and-

Oh.

Dean can barely admit it to himself most of the time, but he's aware that he believes that wanting, is selfish. That he thinks his wants are inherently selfish things and so he can't let himself want. And logically he knows that's crazy because everybody wants something, but he jus-can't let himself. And for years he could barely let himself think about wanting Cas, and then after everything that happened he jus-he to let himself be selfish just once and want him. But that was only after he knew Cas wanted him too, which made Dean's want, "unselfish" because it would make Cas happy too. That want was technically for both of them, and that's what he told himself.

And that's why Dean hasn't been able to let himself want the label too.

Because wanting the label is something, just for himself.

And Dean chuckles lowly at the irony. Dean Winchester has free will for the first time in his life, and he still just can't let himself have what he wants.

He rubs a hand down his face, pausing when he spots the fabric in the mirror. Dean slowly looks down at his other hand to see it clutched in a white knuckled grip.

And he thinks of the way he felt when he first saw it on some website, after finally convinced himself to open his laptop in the late hours of the night all those years ago. And he thinks of the smile on Sam's face when he handed it to him after their weekly Friday night dinner, as he was on the way out the door. And how he never specifically talked about it with him, but Sam seemed to know anyway, like always. He thinks of Cas' understanding smile as he softly told him he definitely didn't need it if he wasn't ready or didn't want it, and how he didn't even have to come today. And how he never expressed any of this to him, but Cas seemed to know, like always.

And he thinks of how he might feel, holding the scrap of fabric a little more gently. And he thinks of how he might feel holding it today, where everyone can see.

And he makes his choice.

So with unsteady hands he releases his iron grip, and carefully threads it through one of his belt loops. He squeezes his eyes shut, as he tilts his head back up towards the mirror. Then he slowly opens them.

Dean's breath catches when he sees as the flag hanging at his hip, stopping just above his knee. He takes a moment just to stare at the way it sways slightly, side to side. Then his eyes continue their ascent upwards until they meet his face in the mirror. And he finds a small smile pulling at his lips, reflection becoming a little blurred.

Because for the first time in his life, Dean Winchester is going to let himself have what he wants.

Simply because, he wants it.

He spends the next few minutes just staring at his reflection like an idiot, and that thought causes the smile to grow wider, tipping his head back as a soft laugh bubbles up his throat.

But god he's felt lighter than he has in years.

"Everyone's here, are you ready to go?" Cas asks suddenly appearing in the doorway with a soft smile as Dean meets his eye in the mirror. His hair is a mess like always, but he's decked out in a rainbow striped shirt and socks, and he's even got a little flag painted on his cheek, and his smile grows even wider as his eyes pan down to Dean's waist.

And in three strides Dean's across the room and wrapped in his arms, staring into those wide eyes.

"I'm bisexual" Dean chokes out suddenly, voice thick as he releases a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding. He quickly looks down, unable to meet Cas’ eye, unable to look at his reaction. Then hands are cupping his cheeks, slowly tilting his head upwards.

"I'm so proud of you" Cas whispers, thumbs wiping away stray tears Dean hadn't realized where falling. It pulls a watery laugh from his chest. 

"Cmon, let's go before Sam starts bitchin’ about how late we are" Dean laughs, trying not to think too much about how big of a deal what he just said was. And he knows Cas can see right through him, but he thankfully lets it slide. But not before pressing a soft kiss to Dean's lips, and leading the way into the living room.

And later when Dean's standing downtown, he realizes he's more relaxed than he thought he'd be. Luckily nobody made a big deal about the flag at Dean's hip, and hell he even let Jack paint three little stripes on his cheek, but he definitely didn't miss the wide smile on Sam's face. And when they got to the small Pride event, Dean was surprised see a decent amount of people sporting the same colors, one girl even had her hair dyed the same colors, each person shooting Dean a small smile of acknowledgement. And now with Cas' arms wrapped around his waist, watching Claire, Kaia and Jack all dance around to the music blasting in the streets, as he wonders where Sam and Eileen have gone, he tries to memorize how he feels at this exact moment. Because he rea-

His thought is cut short by Cas suddenly pulling him down for a kiss, like he’d done a billion times before, but one of his hands comes to rest by the flag at his hip.

"I really am so proud of you" Cas whispers into the kiss, and Dean can feel the smile stretching across his lips, pulling him closer.

Yeah. Lighter than he's felt in years.

Tag list:

(please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed💛)

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @bichaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @subbydean @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @writtendevastation

@tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @sinnabonka @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149 @dakiaty @seffersonjtarship @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @jewishdeanwinchester @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @aestheticflyer26

@slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @angelic-bee-enthusiast @nguyenxtrang @idiot-on-the-hill @fandoms-and-things @doreschary @confix @itsanending @thiscowboyisbisexual @milfcodeddean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @smokerdean

#okay fuck it. here it is #i really wasn't going to post this because like. this is a LOT and a lot of this is me projecting my thought process so pls be kind if its #shit or doesnt make sense or seems a little out there asffhakfha #i wasnt gonna write anything bc i knew this would make me insane and i was right. it did #this is quite literally so much projection. #literally this is 90% me projecting my 'bisexual journey' onto dean but i do think this would be his thought process i do #my bi dean manifesto #basically. deans bisexual journey with a psychoanalysis #bisexual #<<<<​yay colors #bec writes #dean winchester #destiel #spnprideweek #destiel fic #castiel #jack kline #claire novak #sammy #eileen leahy #kaia nieves #deancas #casdean #destiel fanfic #qaslight #userzaddy #seraphcastiel #rambleoncas #offbeattraxx #friendshapedcastiel

[strangelysamantha]

pogues x female reader where she doesn’t know how to swim so they all tease her because she has to wear a life jacket

life jackets ❀

pogues x fem!reader.

warnings: reader can’t swim, mostly jokes but can be offensive, swearing, otherwise a cute fluff.

words: 1,090.

summary: since you don’t know how to swim, you have to wear a life jacket. the pogues think it’s the funniest thing ever.

request? yea!!!

a/n: i don’t know how to swim because i get too anxious and then i almost drown lol. thanks for the relatable request! like and comment if you enjoyed. :)

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

“wait, you actually don’t know how to swim?” jj asks you. your cheeks flush, and you stay quiet. “i swear, i thought that was just some weird inside joke.” he continues. you slap his arm. “it’s not funny, okay? i’ve tried on multiple different occasions to try and learn how to swim, and for some reason it’s never stuck.” the group in front of you laughs.

john b abruptly stops laughing, “holy shit you have to wear a life jacket!” he breaks out into a fit of hysteria, causing the others to copy him. you playfully frown, pouting. “no! you can’t make me!” you shake your head, crossing your arms. “you have to wear it! we love you, we wouldn’t want you to drown and die!” pope spoke up, staring at you. you roll your eyes, “i won’t drown if i don’t even go in the water.” kiara nods, “that’s true.”

you smile, “thank you kie.” she tilts her head, “too bad you are going in the water.” kiara shrugs. you throw your head back in defeat, “fine i’ll wear the life jacket but you guys better not laugh.” jj shrugs, “no promises.” john b smiles, “it just depends on how funny you look.” you can’t fight the grin on your face, “y’all, shut up and just hand me the stupid vest.” pope interrupts you, “it’s a LIFE jacket, hence, it will SAVE your LIFE. it’s not a vest. two vastly different things.” you glare at him, “i’m very aware, thank you pope.” he grins, “anytime.”

you exhale dramatically, kiara laughing. “you’ll be okay, jokes aside it’s not a big deal. your safety is more important.” you nod at her reassuring words. “okay.” john b comes back with a bright yellow life jacket. “are you kidding me?” your arms cross over your chest. john b and jj stifle a laugh. “what? we got you the life jacket like you asked.” john b spoke up, handing it to you. “i wanted a life jacket, not a construction worker's vest.” you stare at the brightly colored jacket.

“people will see me from eighty feet away.” you complain. kiara stares at you, “yay! that means you’ll be even safer!” you scoff at her words, “okay… fine.” you accept your fate. “i’ll meet you guys on the boat, i’m going to change and put this on.” kiara stays back with you, the three boys walking to the boat.

“i can try and teach you to swim, it’s worth a shot.” you softly smile, “sure, we can always try.” she giggles, “if you are really embarrassed to wear it, i’ll wear one with you.” you shake your head, “no it’s okay, seriously. i wouldn’t want to put you through that.” kiara looks away, “okay. well, i’ll leave you alone so you can get dressed. i’ll be on the boat.” you hum in response, grabbing your swimsuit and heading to the bathroom.

you put your swimsuit on, but struggle with the life jacket. you frown, already embarrassed, but even more so, now that you couldn’t even put it on correctly. after a few minutes, you finally figure it out. you sigh, leaving the bathroom.

you walk out the door, and onto the porch. you start to head in the direction of the HMS pogue. your eyes focusing on the ground. when you arrive at the boat, jj cheers. “you made it!” you roll your eyes, “yeah, hopefully people don’t mistake my yellow vest as a submarine.” you look up and a large smile finds your lips.

in front of you sat your dearest friends, all four of them wearing a bright yellow life jacket. “guys! you all are too sweet.” you hop onto the boat, pulling them into a hug. “we didn’t want you to feel left out.” john b was messing with one of his straps. “yeah, it’s just me, as usual, having the best ideas.” jj cockily mentioned. you glance over at pope who was rolling his eyes. “jj you only get good ideas twice a year, every other idea of yours is bad.” you laugh at popes words. “get him!”

jj scoffs, “so is everyone just against me?” you softly push his shoulder, “no one is against you, maybe john b, but not us.” your arms wrap around kiara and pope, you pull the two of them closer to you. john b interrupts you, “hey! i’m not against jj! don’t say that!” kiara adds, “we aren’t against you, we just love bullying you.” kiara glanced at jj, expecting a dramatic response to her words, but jj stayed calm. “well, glad to know none of you are after me.”

“are you guys ready to swim?” john b speaks up, parking the boat. “sure…” you hesitate. kiara rubs your shoulder, “you got this!” she grabs your hand, interlocking her hands in yours. “on the count of three, we’re gonna jump. okay?” she asks. you nod, “okay!” she starts counting, “one… two… three!” the two of you jump off the boat, the life jackets causing you to automatically float to the surface. the boys jump in after you.

“look at us, swimming and shit!” jj yells out. “yeah!” you respond, half preoccupied since kiara and pope had teamed up against you, splashing you with water. “jj! john b! join me, you’re on my team!” john b and jj swim to you, joining you in the splashing battle. your team overpowers kiara and pope. “haha, losers!” you jokingly splash them one last time. “fine, the three or you win, we were outnumbered though.” kiara stares at you. “true, kiara is right. we were outnumbered.” pope continued, “rematch?” you jokingly push him, “no way! you just need to be careful with who you go up against!”

jj floated beside you, defending you. “she’s right, you are the ones who picked the battle.” pope groaned, “whatever… i’ll be a sore loser somewhere else.” pope swam away, kiara following him. a second goes by before john b and jj tag team you, pushing you under the water. you spring back up, “WHAT?” you scream out, pointing at both john b and jj. “I THOUGHT WE WERE A TEAM!” they chuckle, “you thought wrong!” jj smirks menacingly at you, “watch your back!!” you swim away, pretending to escape john b and jj.

after an hour of swimming, the group was done for the day. you enjoyed swimming, despite the bulky life jacket. you now felt comfortable enough to wear the jacket, so many more days like this were sure to come.

<3

#obx pogues #the pogues #outer banks pogues #pogues x reader #pogues x you #pogues x y/n #jj maybank x reader #john b x reader #pope heyward x reader #kiara carerra x reader #outer banks rafe #outer banks fanfic #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23​ for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it. 

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues.  Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place. 

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

                                                    ~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back.   A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

                                                     ~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @stassaurus​​, @peachlle​, @livvtheangel​, @myjbphase​, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest​, @vxxn128​, @keithseabrook27​, @spaghettirogers​​, @writingstudent​​, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove​, @geeksareunique​, @cailoleaf​, @simonsbluee​ , @hereforsmutandfluff​, @starxtt​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @staygold-bebold​, @marvelschriss​, @captivatedbycillianmurphy​

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders preference #peaky blinders headcanon #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #alfie solomons #john shelby #michael gray #arthur shelby #finn shelby #isaiah jesus #ada shelby #polly gray #bonnie gold #tommy shelby one shot

[throwawayfish]

𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐱 𝐊𝐨𝐨𝐤!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐀𝐔)

summary: being born a kook has it’s benefits, the line that’s separates the island, preventing you from seeing beyond it isn’t one of them. especially when someone starts sending you letters and you have no idea who they are.

warnings: fluff, language, angst, mentions of cheating, typos, slight pov change but not too noticeable, kinda long

a/n: this is a story in my drafts that i’ve had for a long time, so i decided to publish it as i’m trying to finish the last bit of the series i’m working on. gifs used are mine unless otherwise noted.

comment on my main masterlist if you want to be added to my taglist! ♡

there it is again, the pretend service road that you always stare blankly at. an upset feeling slowly spreading across your insides every time you wander around the area.

it wasn’t because you didn’t want to be at that place, but because you knew that once you step past that line, there is a whole other world than what you’re used to, and you can’t help but want nothing more than to see it for yourself. because you know that the people from the other side can see your world.

ever since you were a kid, along with the others your age whose parents rule the upper class side of the island, you were always told that monsters live on the cut. that the reason why only a long service road was visible was because fairies were protecting you from seeing the monsters trying to break the barrier to your side, the “good” side.

as time went by those beliefs faded, realizing that you weren’t exactly living a disney life, that your happiness was limited despite it being shown off to the people you once had no idea existed.

it all started when your best friend sarah crossed, leaving you behind without any explanation besides being sick of being a kook. you were left to handle the expectations both your families had, including the responsibility of maintaining the name of your family, the camerons and thorntons.

you wished for her to come back, hoping that there was a chance for her return to figure eight though you were well aware that when one crosses, they can never go back. waiting every day at the exact time and place ever since she crossed, not caring if people from the other side are watching you sit there and look lost.

and that’s the thing you never knew, before rafe cameron decided to mock you when he saw you sitting down on the gravel, telling you that the people from the cut can see everything from their perspective.

it was a friday night, meaning that you once again ventured to the barrier to wait for your friend to make an appearance, even though you know it was not possible. the warm hues of the sun deeply tainting the horizon as the area farthest from it were the first to be as dark as the depths of the ocean.

after a few minutes of waiting, you decided that you were no longer going to wait for sarah. though hesitant, you slowly tried to accept that it was impossible for her to come back. you just settled at the thought that she’s happy where she is now, enjoying her life all day with salt water in her hair and the warmth of the sun in her cheeks.

sarah knew you always waited at the place that prompted her new life. so when she knew you were there, she goes, just to see you again. even though what she always sees is a sulking girl waiting for her best friend to come back.

people from the cut who passes by the border always asks her questions about who you were. overtime getting used to watching you blankly stare at them because they knew you could never get a glimpse behind the line.

sarah’s decision to cross was impulsive and rushed as she didn’t bid any goodbyes. knowing that once she did, she would change her mind once she realizes that she’s leaving you. so without another word, she stepped over.

she initially felt unwelcomed, to say the least. not having anyone to talk to and a place to stay, she ended up at the wreck from her long journey to get through the night.

the cut was not what she expected. to be frankly honest, it was better than what the older people from the eight described. it wasn’t gloomy, eerie or sinister. it was normal. sure it is daunting to be in a whole other world alone as a teenager, but seeing people go in and out of the restaurant, teens her age laugh as they walk the humid streets with their friends, she came to a conclusion that this is something she can get used to. because there was life on the cut, more life than the comfortable one that was handed to them on the eight.

the bell rang as a group of boys around her age entered. the blonde one shouting throughout the place, causing a beautiful brunette girl to come out from the back room to scold the boy.

she laughed at their antics, the tallest boy in the group making her heart skip a beat as they made eye contact.

that was the start of her being a part of the ‘pogues’. somewhat immediately being accepted into their friendship if it weren’t for the unwelcoming energy of the blonde boy.

it was a day after a hurricane when they all decided to go out to the marsh. the five of them spending their day under the sun, stomachs filled with chips and beer in courtesy of kie.

that was until they found a sunken boat which caused them to be their usual curious selves and end up in a motel. putting on their detective masks and ventured the island trying to gather any information they can get.

night time came and they were hanging out by the dock at the chateau, sharing their second batch of canned beers while discussing their futures.

when time came for sarah’s turn, she stood up, hastily bidding her goodbye and apology saying she needs to hurry. the rest watched her figure disappear in the distance. still surprised at the usual agenda of the girl, which they should’ve gotten used to by now.

it was silent for awhile when the blonde decided to break it, knowing that none of them have the courage to address the elephant in the room.

“she’s cheating on you. i hate to say it, she is.” kie widened her eyes at him, passing on the message that he needed to stop, it didn’t faze him though.

“it’s been ongoing since we met her. i don’t even understand why she’s part of this group. i get it you’re dating her but-” “jj!” kie yelled at him this time, pope shaking his head making it known that he was siding with kiara on this one.

“every friday night she leaves us no matter what we’re doing. same time as always. this is not some essay comprehension shit we do in school. even three year olds can get an idea of what’s going on here” he said as he played with his lighter

“why does it matter? she might have stuff to do that she doesn’t want us to know. let’s just respect her privacy.” pope commented, john b nodding in agreement

“kooks bro. they just don’t sit right with me.” he muttered as he chugged down the last bit of beer. “as far as i know sarah left figure eight to have a new life. just by that you can tell she’s different.” john b once again defended his girlfriend

“if she’s not meeting some other guy i think she’s just rebelling. sooner or later she’ll get sick of us and go crawling back to the border til she realizes she cannot cross back.”

kiara sighed, over the petty argument her friend started “i think that’s enough, jj”

one by one they all started to gather their stuff and go back to the chateau, but jj had different plans as he lied saying he was going to go for a walk, to wind down from their busy day. him being him, the pogues let him go

jj looked at the places where the blonde lass might be, growing up on the cut and having no choice but to stay there, he practically has the south side memorized like the back of his hand.

kooks in general made his stomach churn, the term itself pissing him off just by hearing it. the main reason though was because he was mad.

he was mad that they were the ones to receive all blows and brags of the rich. when people from there get sick of their cookie cutter life, they cross. having another chance to change their routine. but when it came to them, there was no other way. no matter how rich you get on the cut, you stay on the cut. be the richest of the poor.

the cold yet sultry late summer weather accompanied him on his walk on kildare’s dark streets. turning every corner he thought sarah might be. after a few disappointments, he heard rattling from a bike’s chain. and there was his target, seemingly cautious as to whom was around her.

jj didn’t want to snoop around. he knew it wasn’t his business to know every decision the girl makes. but he wanted to protect his best friend whether his suspicions were true or not.

“go home!” she heard the girl shout. he decided to hide behind the tree, not knowing why sarah was crying. when he decided to peek, she found her sitting on the cold stone ground, matching the position of the girl from the other side of the bright line. who, for a moment, made him forget she was a kook as the girl sent butterflies to his stomach.

“i know you can’t hear me, but i’m sorry for leaving. but you also can’t let me be guilty for choosing my happiness.”

she stood up, getting on her bike and leaving the unknowing girl who remained in her place.

now he had an idea as to why the new member of their group was always leaving. when he was sure that she was gone, he slowly approached the girl. looking down at her and watched her expressions.

he knew it was a creepy thing to do, especially since she cannot see him. but he admired her, at first sight, much to his surprise.

soon he noticed the girl standing up, not wanting to lose the chance of communicating with her, he shuffled between his multiple pockets to search for anything to connect to her.

finding a crumpled grocery list that john b once gave him and a pen from he knows where, he wrote a quick message, and threw the paper across, which surprisingly went through being that no one from the cut could ever cross or send something over. it landed just in time, enough to catch her attention before she was far enough.

you stood up from the cold land to get back to your car, the misty wind enveloped your figure. it was rather silent in the area, making it easy for you to turn around to see a crumpled piece of paper drop from thin air.

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢 𝚖𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜.

you picked it up and looked straight to the vast road, expecting the feeling of emptiness, instead you felt comfort. it wasn’t sarah, because you know her presence by heart, but it’s as if you were tied to the person from the other side. it’s as if you were looking directly in their eyes.

the note contained a lame pickup line that still made you smile. soon enough a pen dropped out of nowhere, and you got the message that they wanted to talk.

not minding his messy writing, you decided to stay and communicate with the person on the other side, you passed the pen and paper back and forth across the border. sitting down once again as you wrote to someone you didn’t know, better yet, cannot see.

jj was the name you got, saying that he can see you. your beautiful face. blood crept up to your cheeks as you read it, smiling at him though the only thing in front of you are rocks and fallen leaves on a long winding road.

the moment you realized that what you’re doing is kinda intense, you’ve been closed off. standing off and passing him the paper containing your farewell.

𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚓𝚓. 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎. 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚢 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚎.

he didn’t know what to do for a moment, not wanting to lose the chance of not seeing you again, so he took the last chance he could get to stop you from leaving.

he scrambled as he tried to quickly write in the crumpled sheet, throwing it across as he keenly watched your expression. and with that he knew he did something that could either make or break you being comfortable in talking to him.

𝚒’𝚖 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑

the note made your heart drop and at the same time jump with gaiety. you knew that through him, you could reconnect with your best friend again. but jealousy was creeping behind your mind as you realized that he gets to see her while you can’t.

𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞

it took a minute for the paper to come back that you thought he just left you hanging, but quite a long message came back.

𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚋. 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚒 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

you smiled, colliding the paper with the tip of the pen once again.

𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠.

you looked down at your lap while fiddling with your fingertips. for a moment, crossing slipped through your mind as you stared at the letter. however images of your family and so called friends replaced it immediately. the expectations that you need to fulfill and the reputation you need to maintain.

𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍?

you looked up as you heard the materials once again land in front of you. a promising message that comforted you. you stood up as you passed the note back, running away as you hastily went back to your house.

𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

you grabbed a duffel bag as you fit in as much clothes as you can. putting in the glass jar that you filled with spare change and extra allowance over the years.

it was a life changing decision, you knew that. it will never be the same again once you enter a whole different life. these were your thoughts yet you still continued packing, hurrying and trying to be as quiet as possible.

as you finished, you gave one last look into your still fully furnished room that nonetheless felt empty. you shook off your hesitation as you turned around and went through the back door of your quiet estate.

jj was ten minutes early, not wanting to let you be alone in your arrival, he wasn’t even sure if you’re planning to cross, but he wanted to see you, it doesn’t matter what you’re plotting.

you neared the line, standing in front of it as you looked blankly in front of you. second guessing whether you wanted to continue what you we’re planning to.

it was silent in the area, only cicadas being heard as the moon shined bright, illuminating the streets, it rained a bit on your way back, now the the gravel was soaking up every last bit of raindrop that touched it.

you weren’t sure if the boy was there waiting for you, but a shark tooth necklace dropped at the bottom of your feet, giving you the assurance that he was in fact there, ready to be a witness of your breakthrough.

the life you were leaving behind entered your headspace once again, but the welcoming presence of the boy kept you grounded as your mind clouded with thoughts, and at that moment you knew you’re in good hands.

so you crossed.

and there wasn’t even an ounce of regret as you were met with solace, caused by a pair of cerulean eyes that studied your features, and you couldn’t help but do the same. his crooked teeth complimented his perfect smile. mirroring his stance and facial expressions, you dropped your bag and gave him a smile that radiated appreciation.

“hi.” he whispered, his voice raspy as nervousness enveloped him.

you giggled, putting your hand out “i believe this belong to you.” electricity flowing through both your fingertips as it slightly brushed. he grabbed your duffel bag as he motioned his head towards the new place you’re gonna soon call home.

“i would love to get to know you, the pogues would think that as well, but i know you’re dying to see sarah. let’s get you to your best friend.”

hope you guys liked this one! wishing this compensates for the wait of my series ‘The Definitely’s Maybe’’s final chapter. stay tuned for that.

tell me if you wanna be tagged/removed in future posts or have it be updated as i cannot tag some of you! have a great day! ♡

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[5-seconds-of-bucky]

You Are In Love

A/N: Very much based off the song You Are In Love by Taylor Swift, but I don’t know if this classifies as a song fic?? Anyways, here ya go! (Extra points if you can spot the very vague John Mulaney reference)

Summery: In the end, you’re always glad you married each other

Word count: 2.6k+

Warnings: A touch of angst, mild swearing

“Mind if I steal my wife?” Shawn asked the girls standing around you. 

“Ooh, Y/N, looks like someone likes you,” you maid of honor said in a sing-songy voice. 

“Really? Is he cute?” You all laughed as you excused yourself. 

“Where are we going?” you giggled as he tugged you through the sea of tables. 

He stopped abruptly and you almost crashed into him, placing a hand on his suit clad bicep to steady yourself. “Nowhere in particular,” he said with a smile. 

You eyed him suspiciously and he winked in return, taking your hand off his bicep and kissing it before turning around and tugging you forward again. He didn’t stop until you reached a corner in the gigantic room, pulling you in close and swaying slightly to the faint music. 

“We haven’t really had a moment to ourselves tonight,” he commented as you stood there. 

He wasn’t wrong. You tried to keep the guest list down for the celebration, but that’s a hard task when it comes to a wedding. Everyone wanted to talk to you, and it felt like there was barely any time for you to just be with each other. 

“We have to interact with our guests, my dear,” you said as you looked up at him. “We can’t invite them and then completely ignore them.”

“Well yeah, but it’s our wedding. Emphasis on our.” 

“We have all the time in the world.” 

You smile alone could’ve made him melt on the spot. He’d known for a long time that you were the one, but every time you smiled made him even more positive that statement. 

“That we do, however, we only get one wedding day.” 

It was cliche to say, but everything truly was perfect. From the moment he saw you in the white dress to the moment he pulled you into this dimily light corner away from the rest of the party, everything was pure bliss. 

You shook your head, a genuine smile on your face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

There was silence for a minute; nothing needed to be said. It was you and your husband against the world. 

You were glad you married each other. 

--- 

You yawned as you glanced at the clock. 11:48. You wanted to go to bed so bad, but Shawn made you promise you’d stay up until he got out of the shower. He didn’t tell you why but you assumed he wanted to go out and do something. 

It was one of his favorite things to do while you were with him on tour. He loved his team, but sometimes he wanted to go places without anyone else around. With less people on the streets his fame was irrelevant: he was just some guy walking around with his wife late at night.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Shawn walked out of the bathroom, using a towel to dry his hair. He grinned when he saw you half asleep on the bed, and you couldn’t help but smile back. He silently went to his suitcase and tossed a hoodie to you before grabbing one for himself and tossing his towel in the bathroom. 

“Where are we going?” you asked as you took his hand and he led you out of the room. 

“Don’t know yet,” he shrugged, pressing the button for the elevator. “We’ll know when we see it.” 

You gave him a questioning look. “We’re not going to get lost, are we?” 

“Pssh, I would never get us lost.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Uh huh. What about-” 

The ding of the elevator interrupted you and Shawn dragged you in behind him, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. 

“That’s irrelevant.” 

“But-”

He used a hand to push your face into his chest. “Irrelevant!” 

You sighed and hugged him back, too tired to fight back. 

“I think the first thing we’re going to do is get you some caffeine,” he chuckled, loosening his grip the slightest bit. 

“Good idea.” 

You ended up at some random coffee shop down the road. Part of you desperately wanted to go to sleep, the other part wanted to use the time to have Shawn to yourself; a rare moment these days. 

You took your drinks on the go, walking hand in hand around the quiet streets of the city. Except for the occasional joke about something you saw here and there, few words were exchanged between the two of you. The only light came from the soft glow of the street lamps. It was the perfect night for coffee at midnight. 

“What time is our flight tomorrow?” Shawn asked as he stopped to take a seat on a bench, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. 

“Well, technically it’s today and it’s at 5:30, which is in about four and a half hours.” You sat down next to him. 

“You sound like that really annoying kid at sleepovers. ‘Uh, it’s tomorrow now,” he mocked with a dopey face. 

“Shut up.” You punched him playfully in the arm with a giggle. 

“Good lord, why’d we schedule such an early flight? We really should’ve gone to bed.” 

“Really? I didn’t think of that.” 

“You’re the worst.” The smile on his face said the exact opposite; full of adoration for the girl in front of him. 

“What’cha gonna do about it, huh?” 

“I’m gonna do this.” He leaned in and you assumed he wanted a kiss so you closed your eyes and leaned in as well. Your face scrunched in disgust when you felt him lick your cheek. 

“Shawn Mendes,” you sighed, slowly bringing a hand up to wipe your cheek. 

“Yeah?” he asked with a giggle.

You glared at him. “You are absolutely disgusting.” 

“Oh yeah? What’cha gonna do about it?” 

“Nothing because I’m a civilized person.” 

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m sorry, your majesty.” 

You nudged him with your shoulder as you laughed. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he yawned, stretching his arms up before placing one around your shoulders. 

“That was not smooth at all.”

“Really? I think it was pretty smooth.” 

“We’re married and you have to do the yawn arm stretch to put your arm around me?” 

“No.” He rested his head on your shoulders. “I thought it would be cute.” 

“You’re a dork.” 

He was a dork, but you were glad you married him. 

---

“I got the letter.” You rubbed the piece of paper between your fingers. You had read it at least four times that day and you wanted to read it a fifth, but Shawn called and you couldn’t pass up a chance to actually talk to him. 

“Did you like it?” he asked shyly.

“Of course I liked it, silly!” 

He let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t even sure why he’d been so nervous about you receiving it in the first place.  

“I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” he said, flopping down on the bed of the hotel room he was staying in for the night. “However, I must say that I do not miss your cold-ass hands on me.” 

“Liar,” you accused, fake offense in your voice. “You wish these cold-ass hands were on you right now.” 

“That’s debatable.” 

“Okay then. Well, how's the whole international pop-star thing going?” 

“Oh, you know. Just the usual.” 

“Absolutely satisfactory,” you said at the same time. It was a running joke and you weren’t entirely sure where it began. Just one of the many things that made being apart the tiniest bit better. 

You gazed longingly at a picture of the two of you on your honeymoon on your nightstand. “I want to use these cold-ass hands to give you a hug.” 

“I wish they could.”

“Aha! So you do miss these cold-ass hands!” 

“What, no? That’s not what I said.” 

He could be a liar about missing your cold-ass hands, but you were glad you married him. 

---

You could’ve stayed outside all night. It was the perfect temperature, and the only light came from the moon and a kitchen light you left on for when you decided to go back in. 

You were laying on top of Shawn, head in the crook of his neck and hand over his heart. He had a foot on the ground, using it to rock the two of you back and forth in the hammock. 

He had been rambling for a while now, failing to notice how your breathing was slowing down, eyes closed as you stopped trying to fight the exhaustion from the day. 

“I don’t know. What do you think?” he asked.You didn’t answer and he laughed when he looked down and saw you far away in dream land. 

“Hmm, wha’d you say?” You asked, lifting your head up slightly, bumping him in the jaw. 

“Nothing. Go to sleep, it’s late,” he chuckled, slipping the hand that was resting on your back under your shirt and rubbing circles into your side. 

“No, keep talking. I’m just resting my eyes.” You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. 

“Mmhm. Get some rest, Y/N.” 

You snuggled into his chest, breathing in the faint scent of cologne and laundry detergent. He buried his face in your hair, closing his eyes and allowing himself to be in the moment. It was rare you got a quiet moment like this; just the two of you at home. 

He was glad he married you. 

--- 

“I just feel like you’re never home.” 

“Shawn, what are you talking about?” you sighed. “I’m home all the time.” 

“I haven’t properly seen you in three weeks. Three weeks, Y/N,” Shawn huffed. “This is the first time we’ve had dinner together in three weeks.” 

“That’s not my fault, Shawn.” 

“I came home early multiple times last week and you weren’t here. You were home at 9:30 every day last week. You’re only supposed to work until seven.” His eyes were cold and his movements rigid. Anyone could tell he was mad, but you knew better. Insecurity was creeping in. This wasn’t a fight you should be fighting, but you were going to anyways. 

“I can’t control my workload. If I don’t get stuff done in time, I get fired. Time isn’t subjective. Deadlines exist.” 

“You couldn’t come home on time just one time? One time, Y/N. That’s all I asked.” 

“What, so I could stay until 11:30 the next day? I love you, Shawn, but I can’t do that to myself.” You were already so sick of the fight. The night had started out nice. You had dinner together for the first time in a while but Shawn grumbled about how you were never home under his breath and it only escalated from there. 

“All I’m asking for is a little effort on your end.” There were a lot of things he could’ve said right then, but that was the one he had to go for.

“You really think I don’t care about this relationship?” 

“That’s not what I-”

“I married you, Shawn. I’ve put up with the touring for months on end, the long nights at the studio, the PR stunts, everything. I clean the house, cook dinner for when you get home, leave you notes in the morning because I care; because I love you.” 

Shawn zoned out, your rant becoming a background noise in his brain. He wanted to take the words back the moment he said them. He knew it wasn’t true, life was just frustrating when you didn’t see your wife for weeks on end.  

“I think I’ve put in plenty of effort.” You took a step towards him, but it did little to close the huge space between you. “I’m sorry that my job keeps me over every once and awhile, but I put every ounce of myself into this relationship. You should know that better than anyone.”   

He stared at you, trying to come up with the right words; words that could just fix everything so you could have just one nice night together for once. 

“Are you going to say anything?” you asked, arms crossed and hurt evident in your voice. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He ran a hand through his hair, voice having the slightest tone of accusation. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. His eyes were sincere, you could tell, but his lack of words said much more. 

“Okay then,” you said quietly, biting your lip. “When you figure out what to say, let me know.” 

“Okay.” His voice was barely audible, but it spoke volumes. You turned on your heel and walked to the guest bedroom, closing the door softly behind you. Angry as you were, slamming doors wasn’t going to help anything. 

He sighed as you disappeared. You always seemed to be the more rational of the two of you and he never understood how you could deescalate yourself so quickly. 

You could be mad at him all you wanted, as the end of the day, he was still glad he married you. 

---

“Don’t freak out.” 

“Telling me not to freak out is going to make me freak out more.” You were standing in the hallway of your office building, staring at the ceiling and tapping your foot as you waited for Shawn to tell you why he called you so abdamentelly in the middle of the workday. 

“So I’m kinda on my way to the hospital.” 

“Oh my gosh, Shawn, what happened?” Your mind raced with every worst case scenario. The fact that he was calling you should have been some indication that he wasn’t dying, but that did little to ease your worries. 

“I was messing around with Brain and I might’ve maybe twisted my ankle really bad and it swelled up a lot so we’re just going to get it checked out.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the lord.” 

“Why do you sound so happy?”

“You never call me during work. I assumed you were dead or dying.” 

“That’s a little unreasonable.” 

“Shawn!” 

“Sorry.”

“How bad does it hurt?” 

“Like a . . . a six I guess?” 

Is six enough to warrant surgery? 

“I’m not going to be able to get out before my shift ends,” you sighed, leaning your head against the wall as you looked at your watch. “Let me know if you get out before I go home. I’m really sorry, babe.” 

“Hakuna matata. I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

He was probably the clumsiest person around, but you were still glad you married him. 

---

The remains of Chinese takeout was scattered on the table, long forgotten as you lost yourselves in each other. 

“No, but do you remember when you literally dragged me out at three in the morning and then got us lost so Andrew had to track us down and nearly killed us?” You asked, looking up from where you were laying across his lap.

“That is not what happened. First of all-”

“That is so what happened!” You sat up to give him that ‘you’re insane’ look.  

“You’re crazy, woman.”  

“That’s a strange way to address your wife.” 

“I am a bit of a strange guy.” 

“That’s an understatement.”

“Hey!” He pushed you off of him with a playful smile. “That’s a mean thing to say about your husband.” 

“I am a bit of a mean wife.” 

“That’s an overstatement. I mean, we’ve made it to one year of marriage and I haven’t considered divorce yet. That’s gotta work for something.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“I’m glad I married you, Y/N. Happy anniversary” 

“Happy anniversary, babe. I’m glad I married you too.” 

And it was true. At the end of every day, you were glad you married each other because there could never be anyone better. 

Taglist // add yourself

@fallinallincurls @lonelyreputation @musicalkeys

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes fanfic #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes one shot #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes writing #Husband!Shawn #Shawn Mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes angst #Shawn Mendes x reader #Shawn Mendes x Y/N #Y/N #Reader insert

[simonfarnabyslegs]

for the ask game: Julian, Captain and Humphrey! :)

julian

a song that reminds me of them: a cop out, since this one is canon. any time i hear "i'll make love to you," i think of him singing that at music club (and also mary going "i don't want him toooo" lol). i also feel like he would LOVE britney spears's music.

what they smell like: really expensive but really bad aftershave and too much cologne. also alcohol and sex. but the first thing you notice is the bad aftershave.

an otp: him and robin. there is no other acceptable pairing. i do think it would be funny if he and fanny had a thing though. or him and the captain (alison walks in on them doing something and the captain just yells "WE'RE JUST A COUPLE OF CHAPS IN THE LIBRARY" while julian isn't even trying to keep what they were just doing a secret).

a notp: uhhh him and kitty. she's the only one i would be mad about tbh.

favorite platonic/familial relationships: the way he's like a really awful, bad-influence uncle to alison.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: i can't think of one. we all generally agree that he's a hilarious bastard man and come up with stuff accordingly.

the position they sleep in: he sleeps in the exact middle of the bed, or he starts out on one side, since he's used to sharing in life, but gradually spreads out, and if anyone else tried to sleep in the same bed as him they'd be really annoyed because he always manages to hog so much space and leave them barely hanging onto the edge.

a crossover au i'd love to see them in: very unoriginal, but i'd love to see a horrible histories stupid deaths segment with him.

my favorite outfit they've ever worn: we've seen a couple now actually, unlike some of the other ghosts. but i really do prefer the no trousers look and anything else is slightly unsettling if i'm honest.

the captain

a song that reminds me of them: i really can't think of one. the captain isn't one of my favourite characters so i don't really think a lot about him when i listen to music. sorry.

what they smell like: weirdly, i think he smells like nothing. like. unsettlingly so. you almost want him to smell like something, but he just. doesn't. he's very clean, but he doesn't even smell like soap. it's just. an empty air smell, if you can describe it as such. he smokes, too, so you'd expect a tobacco smell or a smoke smell, but even that isn't there. this man just smells like nothing.

an otp: i don't ship him with any of the other ghosts in the house. i do think him and julian hooking up exactly one (1) time could lead to multiple hilarious comedic possibilities, but i don't want them to be in a relationship.

a notp: i saw someone shipping him with fanny and just... no. that doesn't make any sense.

favorite platonic/familial relationships: i love how he's just got that Dad Instinct. he looked at kitty and alison and went "isn't anyone going to father these young ladies?" and didn't wait for an answer.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: i don't like the patcaps ship.

the position they sleep in: series 1 cap slept board-straight in the bed, almost like he was standing at attention. series 3 cap probably sleeps curled up on his side, or on his stomach, or curled up all nice and comfy.

a crossover au i'd love to see them in: young wwi era cap in series 2 of downton abbey. i don't know if i'd like to see him turn up as a young man in the trenches or one of the patients at downton, or maybe as a medical officer like thomas barrow, in the lower ranks, helping out in the background.

my favorite outfit they've ever worn: *gestures* this?

humphrey

a song that reminds me of them: "blue caravan" by vienna teng. after all the "mr. cheese" stuff, i got to thinking about how he probably has a lot of time to imagine the different lives he could have had if circumstances had been different, and this song is about imagining the perfect supportive, caring partner, but realising that they're not real and it's just a foolish self delusion. or perhaps a lighter, more hopeful version of the same theme, "jackie and wilson" by hozier, where the narrator once again imagines a partner and an ideal life which they haven't achieved yet, but they're still holding out for.

what they smell like: okay so tudors only bathed like once every six to eight weeks or something like that. they believed baths were bad for them. not only that, wealthy tudors' diets were appalling. so unfortunately he probably doesn't smell great. (but luckily i've never had much of a sense of smell, so.....)

an otp: him and someone who actually likes him and wants to talk to him and spend time with him. so far we haven't seen that, so for now i'll keep making up random ocs to set him up with.

a notp: him and thomas, since thomas is so horrible to him.

favorite platonic/familial relationships: i'd love to see him be yet another dad to alison, or to kitty.

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: i don't like the whole humphrey and jemima thing because a lot of the stuff is either really fucking uncomfortable, or the people who write it make it weird by babying jemima. she's 11-12 years old and they treat her like she's four years old and that just feels really weird to me. obviously she's a kid and she should be treated like one, but there's also such a thing as age appropriate parenting. also i'm pretty sure jemima is meant to be one of john's kids who also died of the plague so like. acting like she's all alone and hasn't got any parents or anyone at all is so confusing to me because if she's one of john's kids, she's got like twenty parents. we just don't see her with the plague ghosts because like any kid, she probably goes off and plays away from her parents during the day. anyway.

the position they sleep in: when he was alive i feel like he would fall asleep in a normal position, on his back or on his side, but when his valet or whoever went to wake him up in the morning, he was always like, hanging off the bed or laying at a weird angle and they were always like "how the fuck did he even get like that." in death, like. his head just sleeps however it was set down or dropped. and i'm a fan of your headcanon that the body just collapses wherever it is when his head falls asleep.

a crossover au i'd love to see them in: forgive me for saying downton abbey again but i'm doing a rewatch with one of my friends. i'm gonna throw him into the edwardian era as some random gentleman cousin and he and lady edith are going to be poor, pitiful, unlucky-in-love besties who bond over all the ridiculously tragic shit that's happened to them and how they always get bullied or left out of things.

my favorite outfit they've ever worn: he technically only has one outfit (damn the bbc for putting the whole costuming budget into the georgian episode instead of the tudor one. /j), but i like the dressed down version where he's just in the white shirt and the breeches. he looks. very handsome. in that scene. ahem.

#asks #ask game #thank you! :)

[topazy]

Silent bloom

Pairings:Finn Collins/reader

Chapter: 1.06

Your pace quickened as you walked through multiple hallways, hoping to see his face.

There had been rumors spreading around the ark about a boy who wasted three months' worth of oxygen because he spacewalked. Apparently, it was Finn. You didn’t believe it? He had no intention of ever spacewalking.

You ignored the whispers at first, but when Finn stopped turning up to meet you at your usual spot, you became worried.

"Hey Reyes!" You called out, spotting Finn’s girlfriend.

Raven’s smiling face faltered into a nervous one. "Oh hi, Y/N. Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, where the hell is Finn? I have not seen him in weeks." There was a moment of awkward silence as you waited for Raven to tell you where he was. The guilty look she gave you was all you needed to know that it was true. "No, no, he wouldn’t have done that."

Shaking your head, you fought against the urge to cry. They arrested your best friend. You noticed Raven closing the door to the room, giving you some privacy.

"Please don’t hate me." She begged.

"Hate you? Why would I hate-" The penny dropped. You finally understood why Raven was suddenly nervous around you, and why she’d been avoiding you as well. "Raven, what did you do?"

"I... It was an accident! It was me who spacewalked and Finn took the blame."

You felt your blood boil as you listened to Raven explain what happened. Finn had taken the blame for her. Your best friend was gone and you’d never get to see him again. Fed up as you listened to Raven, you turned to walk away when she grabbed your wrist.

"Wait, I need to know if you’re going to tell anyone?" She asked.

You finally looked at her in the face to see tears rolling down her cheeks. Good. You wanted her to feel guilty. It was all her fault.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay." You opened your eyes to see Monty giving you a worried look. "Sorry, I didn’t want to wake up, but you looked panicked."

You gave him a weak smile. "It’s fine, Monty. I’m glad you woke me up."

He leaned back in his chair. "What were you dreaming about?"

You looked down as you laced your fingers together. "I dreamed about the night I got my scar."

Monty gave you a sympathetic glance before turning back to the broken radio in front of him. "Hopefully, Clarke and Raven will be back with the parts they need soon."

"Yeah, hopefully."

—

You wished that you’d left with Bellamy to go look for his sister, not knowing if they had found Octavia was driving you crazy.

Clarke and Raven had returned with the battery that they needed, so that was a positive. You’d noticed how quiet the brunette had been since they arrived. You glanced over to see Raven twiddling with her necklace.

Clarke entered your line of vision. "Do you want me to check your stitches now?"

"Sure." You nodded and followed Clarke over to the table where Jasper once lay. You hopped up, then lifted your top.

"You really need to be more careful, Daisy. This could have been a lot worse. " Clarke pressed her lips into a thin line. You tried not to smile. The blonde sounded like a mad mom most of the time. "They look fine, just take it easy."

"What happened?" Raven asked as she stood up.

You shared a glance with Clarke, who gave you a knowing glance before answering for you. "Y/N found Wells right after Charlotte killed him. The same knife..."

"That ended up inside my stomach." You grimaced at the memory.

"How did you reopen the stitches?" Raven asked, walking closer to you.

You sat up and pulled your top back down, covering up your wounds. Clarke mumbled she was going to get some water for her and Monty, leaving you and Raven alone.

"How did you reopen the Stitches Daze?" Raven asked again. The annoyance in her voice was obvious.

You knew what she was asking, without saying the words. "I’m not sure... I’ve fallen a couple of times and-"

"So you didn’t burst them while having sex?" Ravens questions knocked you off guard. The truth was, as much as you disliked her, you’d never deliberately hurt her. "I found this in the bunker."

Raven held up the Daisy necklace that Finn made for your birthday. You hadn’t even noticed you’d lost it.

"Raven I’m so sor-"

She cut you off. "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you didn’t spend the night with him. Tell me you weren't screwing my boyfriend as I was risking my ass to come down here."

You peered down at the ground. "I can't tell you that."

"He made one for me, too. Just in case you thought you were special."

"I know." You confessed "I remember him making it for you." You peeked up to see her glare burning into you. "Do you think I wanted this? Look, as far as he knew, you were dead, Raven, or you would've been soon enough. Along with everyone we ever knew on the Ark. There was nothing we could do to stop it."

Raven let out a sob, before wiping away her stray tears. "He could've waited more than ten days."

You didn’t know what to say. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ wasn’t enough. You have become a person you hate. At one point, Finn was everything to you, and you were stupid enough to believe that you meant the same to him.

"Do you love him?"

"I thought I did. If he knew you were coming, he wouldn’t have come near me." You squeezed your eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping. "He loves you, Raven. That much is obvious. Finn only wanted me for one night. I know that now."

—

You ran as fast as your legs would allow as you raced towards the gate to camp.

"What happened?" You asked frantically.

One of the delinquents walked over to you. He was panting and covered in sweat and scratches. "The grounders killed John Mbege, Diggs, and Roma."

Oh god.

The kid continued talking. "Bellamy found Octavia in a cave, but the grounder stabbed Finn."

"Stabbed?" You asked with a gasp.

"Yeah, but Clarke is treating it. She’s the one that saved Jasper. I’m sure that the spacewalkers will be fine."

You felt the wind being knocked out of your body. You thanked the boy before heading over to Octavia. Finn had Clarke, and no doubt Raven with him. You should check on him soon. But right now, you need to see how Octavia was.

When you got closer to your friend, you slowed down. Accidentally overhearing a conversation between the two Blake siblings, you gave them some space. Regardless of walking away, their voices carried through the camp.

"You wanted me to go to that stupid dance. You got mom killed!" Octavia spat.

"Me?" You gulped down hearing the anger in Bellamy’s voice. "Mom was floated for having you. She's dead because you're alive. That was her choice. I didn't have a choice. My life ended the day you were born."

You shared a wide-eyed look with Jasper as he stepped in front of you. He looked just as surprised as you at Octavia and Bellamy’s harsh words to each other. Sighing, you walked beside Jasper, who was waiting for you, as you headed towards the drop-ship.

Season one

#the 100 #finn collins #Bellamy Blake #finn collins/reader #finn collins x reader #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake/reader #the 100 x oc #the 100 imagine #the 100 season one #the 100 fandom #the 100 fanfiction #slow romance #slow burn #finn collins/oc #finn collins imagine #bellamy blake/you #bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy the 100 #Raven Reyes #clarke griffin #monty green #jasper jordan

[collecting-stories]

First Time - John B Routledge

Request: Could you write a John b imagine where y’all have been dating for a while and he wants to take the next step in the relationship (do the dirty lol) but he doesn’t know your a virgin so you distance yourself from him a little bit and he’s all worried that he did something wrong. But when he asks kie she tells him that his gf is a virgin and is afraid she won’t be good enough and live up to his past hookups. You finally tell him and then y’all do it (smut?) and it’s all cute/romantic/fluffy. 

A/N: Smut.

Outer Banks Masterlist

♡ ♡ ♡  ♡

You and John B had a ‘full disclosure’ relationship. He didn’t want any secrets and neither did you. In theory it was a great idea, in practice it was a little harder to manage. And it wasn’t so much that you were keeping a secret from him as you were just withholding information that was immediately important to the future of your relationship. 

In other words, John B had been dropping hints that he wanted to have sex but he didn’t know that you were a virgin. It would have been one thing if you weren’t ready, you would’ve told him outright that you didn’t want to have sex yet, it was too soon, but the truth was you were ready. You had been together for the better part of a year, longer than any of your friends had waited to have sex and you were still not there yet. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to have sex, I mean, I think about it all the time. I was thinking about it earlier today when we were out surfing.” Not knowing which else to talk to you’d unloaded all your feelings about John B on Kiara. Who was understanding and interested, to a point. 

“Gross. Now I’m just gonna think about you thinking about having sex with John B every time we’re together.” Kiara pointed out. 

“Well I am! And can you blame me. I have a super hot boyfriend and I know he’s had sex before!” 

“Have you not?” 

“No.” You had dated a few guys before but either the relationship didn’t last long enough or you weren’t comfortable enough with them to want to take the next step. “I don’t want it to be some thing where it’s just cause everyone else is and then we break up three days later.” 

All in all the only step you saw as an option moving forward was avoidance. Full disclosure was fine when the thing you had to tell him didn’t set you back in experience. You’d heard JJ talk about different escapades of his own and John B always seemed to joke and laugh about them as if he had done all the same things. And you knew how wild pogue parties got sometimes, you’d been to them before John B had gotten together with you and could remember wishing secretly that you could be bold enough to fully take part. You knew girls flirted with him and anyone of them was probably ten times more experienced than you. 

Even Kiara was more experienced than you. Not that you were entirely surprised by that. You were pretty sure everyone had already gotten that first awkward time out of the way so they could actually enjoy sex. But not you. You wanted it to mean something, even if it was awkward, and you wanted your second time to be with the same person. 

Which was never going to happen because you avoided John B like the plague when you realized what he wanted. You avoided him until he made it impossible to avoid him any longer. 

It was on a Friday night, when you were home alone watching reruns of a Disney Channel show that you were too old for and attempting to finish a pizza by yourself when he showed up, banging at the door. Everyone was supposed to be down at the boneyard for a party that you claimed to be too sick to go to. In truth, you didn’t want to see John B and figured the best way to do that was to stay home. 

Except, of course, he knew where you lived and he was a good enough boyfriend to know something was the matter. 

You stood staring for a full five seconds before you said anything and then it only consisted of, “what are you doing here?” Not the most intelligent of ways to start a conversation with someone you’d been avoiding. 

“Look I don’t know if you’re trying to breakup with me or something. I talked to Kiara and she said I needed to talk to you so if that’s it then just get it over with, please?” John B said, standing in the doorway looking desperate. 

He’d been racking his brain for weeks trying to figure out why you had suddenly started pulling away. John B was sure everything was fine. You told each other everything so what was going on that you felt like you couldn’t tell him all of the sudden. 

“I’m not trying to break up with you.” You said, though that would’ve been the easy way out. If you didn’t break up with each other than he would never know that you were a virgin...an elaborate scheme in which neither party got what they wanted but you had been watching a lot of kids tv until just now. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” You let him come inside, shutting the door and moving passed him into the living room to clean up. You were embarrassed enough that he had shown up, he didn’t need to witness your attempts at eating your feelings. 

“I don’t understand what happened,” he admitted, “did I do something wrong?” 

“No, no, it’s not...it’s me.” You sighed, dropping the pizza box back onto the coffee table, full disclosure your only option, “I know we said we’d tell each other everything but I was avoiding you cause I didn’t want you to find out that I’m a virgin.” 

“That’s it?”

“John B! It’s a big deal.”

“Okay yes sorry, but if that’s it, if you feel like I’ve been pressuring you-“ he immediately thought of all the times in the past weeks that he’s hinted toward wanting to have sex and suddenly couldn’t help worrying that he’d come off as pushy and impatient when he hadn’t meant to be. 

“No, no. You’re not pressuring me. I want to I just...you’re more experienced than me and I thought if you knew, if you saw that I was inexperienced you’d not want to be with me.” And you really didn’t want to die a virgin. 

“I don’t care about that. I mean, I do...care about you feeling comfortable and safe but not about whether or not you’re a virgin.” John B said, “I may have experience with other girls but not with you. This is new for both of us.” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at his words, “you’re so cheesy sometimes.” 

John B rolled his eyes at you. “How about we just take things slow, watch tv or something? Nothing has to happen tonight.” 

You knew that was true but you weren’t exactly committed to the tv. “Can we watch TV in my room? I’ll just clean up?” You offered. 

“Of course,” John B headed down the hall to your bedroom while you fixed the living room and put the pizza in the kitchen 

You weren’t wearing the cutest ensemble in the world but it would do. John B had seen you in worse than your tie dye pyjama set. In your room John B had taken the clothes off your bed and thrown them onto your desk chair. Though neither of you had expressly said you were going to do anything other than watch movies together it was obvious that neither of you cared to bother with movies. 

“Do you remember when I told you the cheesiest thing you had ever done was fake breaking down and then producing a fully prepared picnic for us to star gaze in that field?” You asked, leaning against the door frame of your bedroom, arms crossed under your chest.

“I remember that you told me it was romantic.” He said, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, pocketing the lighter he’d used to light the candles on your nightstand, desk, and bookshelf. 

“Romantic, cheesy, this definitely takes the cake.” You replied, walking over to him. You stood between his legs and put your hands on his shoulders, the nervous energy you’d had around him lately bursting into butterflies in your stomach as you leaned down to kiss him. 

This was really happening. 

John B wrapped his arm around your waist and used his other arm to pull himself back further on the bed as you climbed onto his lap. Your hands went in his hair, tugging at the ends of his curls as you kissed him. You kept telling yourself that you’d done this a million times, there were multiple scenarios in which the two of you made out in your room. The only difference this time was that you didn’t want to stop him when he pulled your shirt over your head.  

The heat, coupled with the fact that you had been totally alone watching TV and eating pizza meant you had forgone wearing a bra, something you thought was totally obvious but that John B clearly wasn’t expecting. He’d been eying your chest when he pulled your top off but he snapped back up to look at you when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

“You can look.” You laughed, jokingly taking his face between your hands and tilting it down toward your chest. “but don’t just look.”

He glanced back up at you, leaning forward and kissing you briefly before he looked back down at your chest hands moving up your sides gently fondling your breasts.  

“You are so beautiful,” he said, kissing you one more time.  

His thumbs ran over your nipples, still a little soft, fingers pressing into the soft skin. He leaned his head forward and your arms draped over his shoulders again, tilting your head and back just enough to give him full access to you.  

John B kissed your neck, lips trailing down your skin. He laid a chaste kiss in between your breasts before he turned his attention to the left side first. His tongue darted out, tracing a circle around your nipple before closing his mouth over it. The sensation made you arch your back more, pushing yourself into him. You rolled your hips the way you’d seen girls do before, grinding against him. His right hand gripped your hip suddenly, maybe a little too forcefully, and you leaned forward again, hands gripping his shoulders.  

Without warning you pushed him back on the bed, his head just missing the wall that your bed was pushed up against and his eyes went wide. You climbed off his lap, taking a tentative breath and reminding yourself that this was John B and he loved you.  

“Holy shit,” his voice came out as a whisper when you pushed your shorts and underwear down at the same time, stepping out of them and standing, totally naked, in front of him. It took all of three seconds before he was sliding off the bed and guiding you back to it.

“What are you doing?” You laughed and he pushed you to lie down, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.  

“Eating you out, if that’s okay with you?” He said, pulling his shirt over his head, “it’ll help you not hurt as much the first time.”

“Can’t say no to that.” You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as John B dropped to his knees at the edge of your bed. He kissed your left knee and then your right before lifting your legs over his shoulders.  

He started on the left side, kissing your inner thigh and sucking on the skin there as he made his way toward the apex of your legs. As he got closer you shifted, moving yourself toward him ever so slightly. He wound one arm up and laid it across your waist, pushing you into the bed. “Stay still baby,” as he spoke his lips brushed across the soft skin where your thigh met your center. John B hovered for a moment over your core, breath fanning out over you and making you shiver slightly.  

“John B...” you whined, both annoyed and aroused by the slow pace that he was keeping.  

He shushed you, playfully nipping the skin of your right knee and you dropped your head against the bed at the feeling of him so far away from where you needed him.  

“John,” you stretched your right arm out, brushing through his hair before gathering a section in your hand and yanking just enough to get his attention, “you’re going so slow.”

“I’m savoring the moment,” he replied, laying his cheek against your thigh, stopping altogether.  

“Savor faster.”  

“Okay.” He shrugged, your legs bouncing slightly, before he leaned forward and licked up to your clit, sucking it between his lips. You smacked your hand against the bed before gripping the comforter in your free hand, the feeling of his mouth on you more than you had ever experienced. He swirls his tongue around your clit once more and then slowly drags his teeth against the sensitive nub, smiling when you sucked in a sharp breath and whimpered.  

John B licks over your clit again and the hand you have in his hair tightens as you try to push him closer to you. He let go of his grip on your leg and without warning, slips his finger inside you. A series of ‘oh my gods’ falls from your lips as he slow pulls out, only to add a second finger. He continues to suck your clit as he pushes his fingers in and out, angling them up as he did. You don’t last long, when he bites down on your clit again you clench around his fingers and cry out, coming hard. John B licks and kisses you as you come off your high, unable to stop the smile that crosses his face as you spasm around his fingers when he pulls them out.  

Trying to catch your breath you pick your head up to look at him, still kneeling between your legs. His eyes meet yours and he pops his fingers in his mouth, licking your cum off them and grinning at you as he does. His lips and chin are glistening slightly in the candlelight of your bedroom and as cheesy as you told him it was before you’re incredibly turned on right now.  

“Do you want to keep going?” John B asks, carefully shifting your legs off his shoulders, kissing each of your thighs. He stands up, waiting for your signal to keep going with the night.

“I swear to god if you stop now-” you said, still somewhat dazed as you looked up at him.  

He nods and undoes his pants, sliding them down his legs first, pushing them and his socks off at the ankles before looking back at you. He kneels onto the bed beside you, slipping one arm beneath your legs and the other beneath your head before he shifts you so your head is laying at the top of the bed. You let out a surprised squeak as you were moved, grabbing his arm to steady yourself.  

“Sorry, just want you to be comfortable.” He apologizes, pressing a kiss to your lips. The kiss is saltier than before and you realize your tasting yourself on him. You poke your tongue out, running along his lower lip before taking it between your teeth and tugging gently.  

Once he pulled away from the kiss he stood again, slipping off his underwear before moving onto the bed, resting between your legs. His eyes closed and he bit his lip, groaning as his dick slipped between your folds. John B rolled his hips, pressing himself further against you, brushing your clit as he did. You grabbed his shoulders in surprise, pulling him closer.  

“Please John B, I need you,” you begged, lips brushing against his ear.  

He held himself up his elbow using his other hand to pull one of your hands away from his shoulders. He guided both your hand and his between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his dick. You ran your hand up and down, fingers a little loose around him but he didn’t seem to mind, eyes closing again as his hand tightened on your wrist.  

“That feels amazing,” he muttered, pressing kisses along your neck and collar.  

“Should I-”

“I won’t last,” he admitted, moving his hand back to cover yours. He opened his eyes, looking right at you as he helped you guide him inside of you. He pressed in slowly, watching you for any sign of discomfort. His fingers laced with yours and he pressed your hand into the bed above your head, leaning down to kiss you as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. “I love you,” he said, kissing along your jaw.  

“I love you too.” You said, tilting your head to catch his mouth in another kiss.  

Slowly, John B began to move his hips against yours, pressing kisses against your neck as he did. You moaned, nails pressing into his back at the feeling of him sliding out and back in. He picked up the pace, sucking a bruise into the skin of your neck. He released your other hand, moving his hand down between your bodies and pressing his thumb against your clit. Your nails dug in more and you practically screamed as felt yourself coming again so quickly. John B thrust faster, pushing himself over the edge just after you, not lasting nearly as long as he usually did. The feeling of being with you for the first time too much for him.  

As you caught your breath, he pressed kisses against you collar and the top of your breasts. He pulled out slowly, savoring the feeling of you spasming around him as he did, your eyes shut tight and your breathing labored. He kissed you one last time before he rolled over, laying beside you.  

“Are you okay?” he asked, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his side and running his free hand along your stomach, feeling your muscles tense and then relax under his touch.  

You hummed, smiling at him, eyes clouded in a haze. “Amazing.”  

“Good,” he kissed you. “I love you.”  

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @louisolos @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @finecelle @vitaminekabc @tiredfeels @g4bster @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @pensysto @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @lavenderxraindrops @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @hvitost @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @kwjune @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @siwiecola @regev1408 @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @averagxfangirl @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @99sxuxii @oh-annaa @katiaw2 @aiifandomsunite @marteenuhh08 @x-lulu @kitkat0609 @ceruleanjj @yoxsh06 @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @justkeepdreamingswift @allie-mcginn @jjmaybankswife @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @poguesnobx @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @copper-boom

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[electronicgrowth]

Can’t Get Enough- Prologue

I’ve had probably about half of this fic just sitting on my computer for over a month now. Maybe if I start posting it, I’ll find the inspiration to finish this. So, here’s a Lee Bodecker x OFC fic. I say OFC because I feel weird not having it in there plus I think it’s weird to make characters of parents and still make it a reader insert (I don’t know your parents!), but feel free to pretend that it’s you, or imagine yourself as Billie. It will have smut, mentions of violence, time period typical sexism. 

Summary: The two most stubborn people in Knockemstiff, Ohio have eyes for only each other. Lee Bodecker is determined to become the town’s next sheriff. He knows that image is everything. Billie Dechswaan doesn’t care about her image at all. All she wants is to leave Knockemstiff and never come back. But Lee has other plans for her. Both are far too stubborn to give up their own plans. What happens when they can’t get enough of each other?

Lee Bodecker’s life fell apart the day his sister died. His thoughts were plagued by everything he should have done different. He should never have let Sandy marry Carl. He should have forced Sandy to divorce the miserable man. He should have killed Carl himself. But he didn’t do any of those things. And now Lee was left with no family and a severely bruised ego. 

The kid— Arvin Russell— shot Lee, he got him in the shoulder. It wasn’t enough to really hurt Lee, but the fall knocked him out and the kid got away. The optics were good for Lee. He was shot and injured trying to protect the town. It would probably help him with the election. And without Sandy, he was free to arrest the men involved in pimping out local girls. It would look good to shut down such a widespread underground business. But never had Lee been so alone. It turned him more vicious. He was constantly angry. Shouting at deputies and his secretary. Drinking himself half blind almost every night. 

But tonight was not one of those nights. Just as Lee was about to leave the station, he got a call about a man dead from a car wreck just on the border of Knockemstiff and Meade. Lee went with two of his deputies to the scene. The man had already been taken away by the coroner. The car had rolled multiple times, it didn’t look like another car was involved in the wreck. The deputies who were first called to the scene said that they instantly knew the man. You can’t live in such a small town and not know most folks. It was Mr. John Dechswaan. And he left behind a large farm and a large family. 

The Dechswaan family was one plagued by tragedy. Joseph and Wilma—John’s parents— moved down from Columbus. Both were born in the Netherlands and immigrated as young children. After they married they desired to settle down and raise a family in a more rural area. Joseph worked for the state building highways. Wilma stayed home. Wilma was pregnant no less than 8 times. She only gave birth to five babies. And only two of those made it past the age of two. Everyone in town pitied her plight. How awful that must be for her. 

Two boys, Ray and John. Ray moved away after high school. Met a nice girl in California and stayed there. John fought in World War II. When he came home he met Joy. For a while it seemed the family’s luck had changed. Joy gave birth to six children with no issue.

The eldest son was young Joseph, for his grandfather. He’d married a local girl named Marianne. They had two boys of their own and she was pregnant again.

The next eldest child, Thomas, married a nice girl from a few towns over named Paulette. Thomas would have preferred to stay closer to Paulette’s family, but he worked for John at the family’s farm. And now Joseph would need all the help he could get from his younger brother. 

The oldest daughter was named for her great-grandmother, Wilhelmina, but she went by Billie. Billie made no secret of her disdain for Knockemstiff. And she had always planned to move away as soon as she could. She worked as a librarian in New York. But the Dechswaan family curse reared its ugly head. She met a guy who she thought was a good man, but he wasn’t. It took Larry next to no time to start hurting Billie. Rumors touched Billie like no other member of the family. Many said that Billie had left Knockemstiff because she got herself knocked up. Her family didn’t speak of her much after she left, which only added to the intrigue. 

Sylvia came next. She was too beautiful and too gullible for her own good. She fell for the quarterback and he was quick to promise her everything she wanted. They married quickly when Sylvia was nineteen, much to her parents pleasure. Tim, the husband, joined the county police department. Just a five months after marriage Sylvia had her first baby. A girl named, Rose. She was as beautiful as her mama. But everyone knew that Rose wasn’t a baby conceived in holy matrimony. Everyone whispered about Sylvia as she walked by. But she bore it. She finally grew up enough to realize that you can’t always get what you want. 

Wesley was the youngest boy at just seventeen. He was the high school’s star quarterback. He was rambunctious and headstrong. He never thought things through. But he didn’t have to. He was a young man after all, with his whole future ahead of him. Who cared if he stepped on a few girls on his way to the top?

Then there was Clara, fifteen, nearly a young woman, but she could barely speak. Doctor said it was because she was just shy. But when she worked up the courage to speak she stuttered and stumbled over her words. Her father bitterly thought about how he would be stuck with her forever.

Yes, Sheriff Bodecker knew all about the Dechswaan family. He had always paid close attention to Billie. She was beautiful. Long dark blonde hair that she bleached bright blonde—trying to look just like Marilyn Monroe but she could never get it quite light enough—as soon as she could and bright blue eyes. She’d been a cheerleader for the football team her senior year. Lee had never thought about those cheerleading uniforms until Billie put one on. It was a good thing she was 18 at the time or else Lee would have been obliged to feel guilty. But he never looked at her until she was legal, and he’ll maintain that until the day he dies. And once he started thinking about her, he couldn’t stop even after she took the uniform off for good. She was a spitfire. She stayed out late, drank with boys in cars, and just generally did whatever she wanted. But she kept good grades, never did anything beyond kissing a boy, and never missed a church service, so no one could say much. Lee was bewitched by her. And the problem was that she knew it.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x female reader #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x ofc #the devil all the time #tdatt

[obxsummer]

Our Secret // John B. Routledge

word count: 2.6k

pairing: john b routledge x maybank!reader

warnings: lots of cursing, descriptive physical child abuse, mentions of sex, angry!JJ, angst

summary: you thought you were doing so well hiding your relationship from your brother. after an amazing day with your boyfriend, you come to realize that jj’s not as oblivious as you predicted which ends in the worst argument you’ve ever witnessed.

request: hiiiii a request where you’re seeing john b in secret because you’re jj’s sister and then jj finds out?

masterlist

ask me anything

--

“I swear to God if you leave a hickey, JJ’s going to murder your ass.”

John B laughed, his lips pressed against your neck as he hovered over you, one hand holding him up as the other rested on your cheek. “I’m not that dumb. Plus, he can’t murder someone if he doesn’t know who to murder.”

This isn’t the typical post-sex conversation most couples had but for you and John B, it was normal. The past five months had involved a lot of lying, skipping plans, faking sicknesses, and a lot of concealer to keep your relationship hidden from prying eyes. There were two main reasons everything was secret: one, no Pogue on Pogue macking and two, your brother would literally punt John B into another country. 

It wasn’t that JJ was against you dating anyone, but he definitely wouldn’t appreciate the fact that at the end of the day you were crawling under the sheets with his best friend. You couldn’t help it though. Being with John B was literally intoxicating and you found yourself needing more every single moment you were with him.

There had been many close calls, but somehow, you had managed to keep your secret thus far and you weren’t planning on spilling anytime soon. Although it sucked to keep your hands to yourself when you were with your other friends and your brother, it was worth it when the two of you spent time alone.

“John B? You here?” 

John B’s hand was over your mouth before you could even scream in surprise. He held a finger to his lips in a sign to be quiet as he pushed off of you. You quickly got up, pulling a shirt over your head as you snuck into the bathroom.

While your boyfriend left the room to confront your brother, you took a moment to adjust your appearance in the mirror. You rolled your eyes, spotting an already darkening mark on the dip of your collarbones where John B had definitely ignored your warnings, not that you minded, it just took a little additional effort to cover up.

Sighing, you leaned against the wall as you listened to the muffled conversation going on through the wall. After a few brief minutes, there was a knock on the door before it opened, revealing John B’s exhausted figure.

“He’s gone,” He mumbled as he walked towards you. “Sorry about that.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck before kissing him softly. “It’s my brother, my problem. I probably should be going anyway. He’ll get suspicious here soon.”

“Yet you’ll end up back on my couch around midnight,” He mumbled against your lips, hands rubbing your back. “I wish I could do more for you guys.”

“Letting us crash here is more than enough,” You responded, “It means I get to see you even longer.”

John B hugged you tighter to his chest and rested his chin on your head. He hated knowing that you and JJ feared going home. Even before the two of you were dating, he couldn’t stand the fact that you could possibly end up with a black eye or a bruised rib. Your dad always blamed harming JJ on the fact that he looked like your mom, but at the end of the day, you were her splitting image. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if it was actually her again or just you hiding in the shadows.

It freaked JJ out. Knowing that you weren’t safe from the hands of your own dad was hard, but for your brother, he couldn’t stand it. There were countless times JJ would walk through the front door so you could sneak in the window, or he would take the blame for a broken dish with the idea that your dad would react even worse if he knew it was you. You were overwhelmed with guilt knowing that your brother put himself on the front of the battle every single time to keep you safe. You hated knowing JJ was bruised and bleeding because of you.

“Be safe, okay? I’ll be here if you need me.”

Once you had all of your stuff and clothes were returned, the walk back to your house was one filled with anxiety and nerves. You knew JJ was home from the bike outside and you managed to sneak in without a peep, your dad crashed on the couch completely asleep. You exhaled and tiptoed to your room without another word.

“Where the hell have you been?” JJ hissed as he stood in the doorway of his room. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I told you I was going to the beach for a walk, chill. And what exactly do you want?”

“Did the horny seagulls give you a hickey?” His finger pressed against the dark spot on your neck. You rolled your eyes and shoved his hand away. He wasn’t actually looking for you, he just wanted to give you shit. 

“Fuck off, JJ,” You mumbled before going into your room and shutting the door without another word. You weren’t in the mood to deal with him, nor were you up to covering your tracks. You flopped on the bed with a groan, still sleepy from your day with John B. You closed your eyes and allowed sleep to take over.

--

Waking up was a whole new adventure. Voices were shouting, glass broke somewhere along the lines and it had you on your feet in seconds. Throwing open your door, you walked straight into someone’s back causing you to stumble slightly.

“What’s going on?” You mumbled, still half asleep. You had run into JJ, who turned to glare at you with an anger you haven’t seen before. You stood next to him so you could get a clear view of the scene.

“What’s going on is your brother is screaming like a maniac for no goddamn reason!” Your dad shouted, pointing at JJ who was already sporting a black eye. He had clearly been woken up from his nap early and one of you would pay for it with more than a bruised eye.

Your brother ignored your dad, however, and instead was still attempting to murder you with his eyes. “Wanna explain this?” The dark blue piece of fabric dangling in his hand sent a chill through you as you recognized John B’s bandana in between his fingers.

“It’s John B’s? So what?” You tried to play it off but deep down, you knew you were screwed. “We’re with him all the time, JJ. That’s not abnormal.”

“No, but it is abnormal that I’m finding his clothing in your room, hickeys on your neck, and you’re both coincidentally ‘busy’ at the same time on most days. So what the hell is it, Y/N?” JJ was yelling now and you were becoming increasingly terrified. Your brother never got angry with you, not like this. “What are you hiding from me?”

“Great, now I’m letting a whore live in this fuck up of a house!” Your dad reentered the conversation to give his two cents. “I fucking knew I shouldn’t have let your mother talk me into keeping you. You’ve turned into nothing but a worthless piece of shit who just takes up space and wastes money!”

His hand clamped around the collar of your t-shirt as he shoved you against the wall, his saliva landing on your cheeks as he continued to scream. A large hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your airway as he held you off the ground. “You’re a slut, you hear me? Fucking your brother’s best friend like the piece of trash you are.” 

“Dad!” JJ’s voice echoed in your ears as you struggled in the harsh grip, your vision spotty as you tried to kick your way to freedom. Your brother was pulling against your dad’s shoulder to get him to let go, a panicked look in his eyes at the image before him.

“Stop,” You gasped as you shoved your hand out, barely hitting your father’s chin as you attempted to get any air. “Please.”

Your weak body collided with the floor where you choked for oxygen. The battle wasn’t over until multiple harsh kicks were landed on your ribs and back. You cried out and curled into a ball. The world slowly became still as you managed to get to your feet before darting out the door without another look. Knowing running wouldn’t help your already damaged situation, you threw your leg over the seat of JJ’s bike, thankful that he left the keys in the ignition before speeding away towards the only place you could find help.

John B was swaying in the hammock when you pulled up in a frenzy, leaving barely enough time to kill the engine before you were scrambling towards him. “Y/N?” He was pushing himself out of the hammock to meet you halfway when you crashed into him, heavy sobs leaving your chest as you held on to him tightly. 

“I’m sorry! I tried to stop it a-and-” 

“Shhh,” John B held your head against his chest as he rubbed your back in an attempt to calm you down. “You’re okay, baby. I’m right here. Calm down.”

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, but it was enough time for your breathing to slow and JJ to get his ass over to the chateau. His heart broke as he watched you stand there and cry in his best friend’s arms. JJ never wanted to hurt you, and he never wanted to set you in a situation where your father could hurt you, yet that’s exactly what he did. He felt awful and seeing the already forming bruises around your throat made him want to throw up.

“Little?” The nickname left JJ’s lips unconsciously. He had called you that for years ever since someone said you looked like the smaller version of him as a kid. He never let you live it down, always calling you “little” or “mini-me”. JJ was so grateful to have you in his life but he hated that it took until now for him to realize how much he needed you.

At the sound of your brother’s voice, you hugged your boyfriend even tighter causing John B to look at the new presence. Seeing your brother, he frowned yet didn’t shift to remove you from his arms. Whatever happened upset you severely and if this was how JJ found out about the two of you, then this was how JJ was going to find out.

John B’s fingers tapped the side of your thigh, a signal between the two of you that was unspoken but simply understood. You jumped from the ground into his suspecting arms as he carried you like a koala back to the hammock before settling in. It took some adjusting before you both were comfortable with him laying on his back and you resting on his chest. His lips pressed against your forehead as he continued to rub your back in a calming manner.

JJ stood in shock as he watched the interaction between you. Never would he imagine this, but watching you and John B was like watching a cheesy rom-com. It looked so right, and it was this moment when JJ realized how badly he fucked up in reacting out of anger.

“Hey,” John B mumbled as he watched JJ lose his control on his emotions on the steps of the chateau. “Pretty girl, you gotta let me see what happened.” The bruises on your skin didn’t go unnoticed to him but he wanted to wait a bit before talking to you about it. With a shaky breath you sat back on the hammock and let John B pull your t-shirt over your head to reveal your bruised stomach and chest. Some spots were red where skin was torn and your neck clearly revealed the outline of a hand.

“Fuck,” JJ cursed at himself as he ran a hand through his messy blond hair, tears of his own falling from his eyes as he realized what just happened. At the sight of your injuries, he lost it. He swore to protect you, to keep you out of his father’s cruel hands if it was the last thing he did and he failed. He failed because he was so pissed over you having a relationship and not telling him. “Little, I’m so sorry.”

You forced yourself to look over at your older brother before carefully stepping down from the hammock. John B followed you, handing back your t-shirt as you walked over to JJ and wrapped him in a hug. “It’s not your fault.”

“But it is!” JJ argued as he let you hold onto him. “I shouldn’t have even brought it up in front of him, that’s so fucked up, Y/N! I stood there, a-and I just let him because I was so pissed that you were fucking John B behind my back. Fuck! I’m so stupid!”

You shook your head, tears falling again as your brother finally broke in your arms and hugged you back, the two of you crying together. “I should’ve told you,” You mumbled into his shoulder. “It’s not just fucking around, J. I promise. He makes me really, really happy, and I should’ve just told you from the start.”

“We both should have,” John B interrupted as he stood a few feet away and observed the scene. “I’m sorry, JJ. I promise you this isn’t just some hook-up thing. I really love her, man.”

You smiled slightly at his words. The two of you had yet to say I love you to each other, as cheesy as that was, but standing here in the moment, you knew you loved John B. You loved him more than anything, enough that you were willing to risk your relationship with your brother because of it.

“It’s okay, man,” JJ sniffled as he pulled away from the hug, instead adjusting to hold you to his chest so he could have the small bit of comfort knowing you were okay. “It’s not worth an argument over. I’m really happy for you, trust me. Just wish this could’ve been in different circumstances.

“And I’m so sorry for letting that happen, Little. I never ever want to see you in that position again, and I’m sorry I let it happen in the first place like. Fuck!” JJ pulled at his hair in frustration. “I’m such a fucked up brother!”

“You are not!” You defended as you stepped away from him. “JJ, there’s been so many times where you take the damage instead of me, even if I deserve it. You can’t blame yourself for our shitty dad. It’s not your fault, it never will be your fault.”

John B shook his head. “You never deserve it. Neither of you do. Just stay here, yeah? You don’t have to go back.”

JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed the side of your head. “I’m sorry.”

You shoved him away and gave him a light punch to the arm. “Would you stop apologizing? It’s nobody’s fault. Look, let’s just go inside and chill, okay?”

“Fine, but if I find out that there’s more hickeys on your neck tomorrow, I will bust someone’s ass, you hear me, John B?”

“JJ! Shut up!”

#outer banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks writing #outer banks one shot #john b routledge #john b routledge x reader #john b x reader #john b outer banks #john b routledge imagine #john b imagine #john b routledge outer banks #john b routledge writing #john b one shot #john b routledge one shot #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj writing #jj x reader #jj imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank outer banks #kiara carrera #kiara outer banks #kiara outer banks wriiting #kiara writing #kiara carerra writing

[ijustwant2write]

Spit It Out-Arthur Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @peakyblindersdaily)

Requested by anonymous: Just like a fluff with Arthur Shelby?

Characters: Arthur Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, FLUFF

(A/N: Season 5 is on Netflix, so guess who is watching it ALL OVER AGAIN!)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Oh Ada, he's beautiful." I gushed over baby Karl in my arms, smiling down at him.

"You look so natural with him." Ada pointed out, and I suddenly felt nervous.

I sighed."You're not the first to say that."

We both glanced over at Polly. It was no secret that she out of everyone had been nagging me about having a child. She had told me multiple times that I was due a child in the future, apparently she had seen it in a dream the day before Arthur and I married. I wasn't against having children, I actually wanted a family with Arthur, though for some reason, he got very reclusive when we spoke of it. We were both in our thirties, married for a number of years, though still no kids.

"Sorry, didn't mean to add to any pressure. Not that you should feel any pressure." Ada said.

"Oh you're not pressuring me. But I hope Polly is right."

After celebrating the new family member, i decided to head home, knowing Arthur would most likely end up with his brothers at the Garrison. I went to say goodnight to him, but was surprised to see he was already gone.

"He's grabbing his coat luv." John told me, already coming in for a hug.

"You boys headed out?"

"Not Arthur. You got him on a leash tonight?"

We pulled away, and he saw my confusion. "What?"

"He's not coming out. He's not been speaking much either."

"I'll make sure he's alright. It'll be nice to have him home, you might want to think about doing that for Esme."

"Alright, fuck off the pair of ya'." he smirked, kissing me on the cheek before leaving with the rest of the lads.

Arthur emerged from his office, now with his coat and peaky cap on. I smiled at him, knowing that by his face and tensed up shoulders, he had something on his mind. I said nothing yet, simply placing my hands either side of his face and gently kissing him. He was surprised any the sudden affection, but kissed back before we set off for home.

As we entered our home, Arthur and I took off our coats, and he slumped his way to the living room. I watched from the door as he collapsed into his arm chair, just staring at the wall. Arthur wasn't always one for much talking, but I hadn't seen him look so deep in thought for a while. I went into the kitchen, grabbing a whiskey and wine glass, pouring out drinks for the both of us. Going back to my husband, I handed him his drink, returning the smile he gave me as I sat down. He mumbled something, but I didn't hear him.

"What did you say?"

He swirled around the liquid in the glass."Said you're too good to me."

"I'm just being your wife."

"A normal wife wouldn't put up with this lifestyle, not for long anyway."

"You saying I'm not normal."

"We both know you're not."

"Actually," I leaned on the arm of the chair,"you're the one not acting normal at this moment in time."

"What?"

"You haven't had one sip of your whiskey. And you've missed out on going to the pub."

He suddenly felt timid."Wanted to be with you, didn't I."

"Arthur that's very sweet. But what's wrong?"

He placed his hand on top of mine, squeezing it gently."Nothin' is wrong. Really."

I leaned my head back on the sofa, trying to get him to look at me."Come on Arthur. If it's to do with business then I'll leave it alone for now, but if its anything else, I want to know."

He downed all of his whiskey, playing with the now empty glass in his free hand."Nah, you don't need to know."

I left the conversation there, knowing that if I kept nagging, his reserved mindset would suddenly flip, and we would both be arguing. We were people that had a short fuse, though I was usually able to hold back from punching someone...usually. We had known each other for over four years, only married for a year and a half out of that. Although it was a fresh marriage, I felt that I knew Arthur well, and I found him easy to read. He couldn’t hide anything from anyone, so hiding it from his own wife was hard enough. I got up from the chair, kissing him on the cheek before leaving the room. Perhaps some time alone with his thoughts would help him decide to open up.

Sat up in bed, I sipped at my glass of wine as I read my book. None of the words were really registering, my mind was too focused on Arthur. He was still downstairs, I hadn't heard the door go, which is what I was expecting. Throwing the book to one side, I downed the rest of the glass, about to get out of bed when the door opened.

Arthur was stumbling, he had definitely finished off that bottle of whiskey. He glanced at me before closing the door and hanging up his jacket. I watched as he attempted to get himself ready for bed, ending up sitting on the edge of the bed as he struggled to untie his shoes. Crawling towards him, I wrapped my arms around his upper torso, my head resting in the crook of his neck.

"You want some help?" I offered.

"Nah, I've got it." he kicked off his shoes.

I kissed his cheek."Alright, just don't fall over again, you might get a concussion this time."

As I went back to my side of the bed, Arthur sighed."I want a kid."

I was still on all fours as he spoke."Y-You what?"

"Don't worry, I didn't mean-"

"Arthur, say it again."

He looked over his shoulder."I...I want to start a family with you."

"Where has this come from?" I sat down, and Arthur turned around fully.

"I've been thinking about it for a while. We've been married for some time now, and people always ask us when we're having kids. And whenever I see you with kids, it makes me want it even more."

"Arthur, why didn't you say something sooner?" my face was already starting to hurt from smiling.

"I'm a bad man. I was surprised when you married me, but I never wanted to bring up children because...because I've never thought I would be a great dad."

"I've seen you with Finn. You've practically raised that boy. And also, you didn't have me before. We would be parents together, we would be able to figure it all out."

"You would really want children with me?"

"Of course. I've never brought it up either, but that's because everytime I think the timing is right, it turns out not to be. You don't need that stress on top of the business. And also, Polly told me that we would have children."

He rolled his eyes."Well if Polly says it, then it must be true."

"Has she been wrong before?"

"I suppose not."

Leaning in, I kissed him, feeling us both smile."Well come on then."

"What?"

"Don't you want to get started?"

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