#i think about the shot of michael and his dad at the table a Lot. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matan4il · 3 years

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Buddie 413 meta

Buck talking make-up with the bridezilla is the kind of ‘secure in his masculinity’ content that I fucking love 911 for. And even though Eddie makes a face (he's on teasing boyfriend duty), right after that he basically continues along the same line of helping the bride, by pointing out she’ll have her veil to help disguise what happened. I love the lack of panic over discussing make-up and bridal veils, plus the way Buddie naturally complement each other.

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Also, the mother of the bridezilla talking about being too lenient with her made me grin. A small wink at Buck and Eddie’s exchange over what is “too much discipline” that we saw in 410? ;) Might be a coincidence, but it's still a fun little throwback to Buddie's parental discipline banter.

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David hanging out with Michael and his kids, being a part of their custom to play games together (since we learn this isn’t a new thing) reminded me of how Buck is a part of Eddie and Christopher's game nights, as seen in 309 and 403. This small parallel made me so happy. Buddie are BOYFRIENDS, confirmed (yet again). Oh, but Michael wants both David, his boyfriend, and Bobby, his best friend, to be there in order for this to be complete. Buddie don’t need anyone else there during Buddifer game nights, because they are both. And isn’t that a part of what makes Buddie so special? How many other same-sex canon ships have we gotten to see on screen who are built as both? I think it’s a part of why we want to see them become canon so much...

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Another small touch that I liked was the glimpse of Eddie’s St. Christopher necklace in the dinner scene. Honestly, it’s such a nice touch of continuity and it also reminds us what a great dad he is, which fits how naturally he goes above and beyond the call of duty when helping out Charlie.

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It’s an interesting shot when Carla comes back and they celebrate her birthdays together. When she comes in through the door, Eddie and Chris hug her, but Ana is left to the side. That’s understandable, Carla doesn’t know Ana much at this point. The camera didn’t have to linger on Ana outside of this circle of love and connectedness, however, and yet it did. Then at the dinner table, we see Ana physically connected to Chris, but not to Eddie. This leads to the way Eddie talks about her to Carla. It’s “nice” and “easy”. But that’s not necessarily love. Especially this early on in a relationship, love gives you butterflies in your stomach and makes you nervous. It makes you buzzingly uncomfortable in your own skin in that good way of being hyper-aware of someone else’s presence and of everything between the two of you, because everything matters. It’s challenging and makes you gulp because you want this thing so much. And Carla picks up on the fact that something’s lacking, telling Eddie to make sure he’s following his own heart and not just staying with Ana for Christopher’s sake. The look Eddie gets after that is even more telling than Carla's words that she is, in fact, completely right. It all paints a picture that tells us Eddie’s at the start of realizing he’s with Ana for the wrong reason…

(meta and gifs for THAT SCENE under the cut to save your dashboards)

All that would have been a lot in itself, but then we get all of this leading to Eddie getting shot while paired off with Buck. Consider how the show took pains to make sure it would be Eddie and Buck together out there in the street, even though Chim was shown to be a part of the conversation when Eddie got Charlie’s call. He and Buck are just coming in, so they’re still in civilian clothes, Buck finds it so important to go with Eddie, he doesn’t even change into his uniform before they get to Charlie. But we’re shown Chim did change into his uniform and that he didn’t come along, even though it’s clear they had a medical emergency on their hands and Chim’s a paramedic, unlike Buck and more experienced than Eddie. It would make more sense for Buck to stay at the station and for Chim to go with Eddie, but nope. Buddie are a team. Where one goes, the other one follows, even in civvies and when it doesn’t make sense. “All we ever wanted was to go together,” as Mitchell told Buck in 208.

Then we have the way the shooting is filmed. I already screamed about the ceaseless eye contact, because it is incredible, but let me try to be more coherent about it. When Eddie’s shot, we immediately see Buck, Eddie’s blood splattered on him. Eddie’s looking down, but as the reality of the bullet piercing him starts to set in, he looks up at Buck, seeking his gaze. They hold it for a really long moment. This shot establishes the moment as a shared experience. It’s served by the contrast with the previous shot. Right before the sniper shoots, the camera is restless, circling Eddie, showing us Buck in his perimeter, but not stopping on anything. This enhances the still shot of them just standing there, staring at each other. The sound also plays into this, going from a noisy street to blocking out all human communication. It will only kick back in later. Both the camera and sound choices highlight that Buddie are having one of those moments of wordless communication that they often share, only this time it’s wordless, because there are no words for what they’re trying to process together. They’re within the same bubble of shock and emotional pain that’s only beginning to take shape.

I can’t emphasize enough how much this shot is a romantic trope. I know the most immediate parallel is to Buddie themselves, in ep 306, because we have them similarly standing across from one another, staring at the other guy, and because we have the episode director’s confirmation that this was meant to mimic lovers' cinematography. But I think this shot is even more meaningful, with the whole build up around it and the way this turn of events is the ep’s climax, and it reminds me of other examples from TV and movies when we see would be lovers about to be torn apart, maybe forever, with the threat of death hanging over them. The most famous example that jumps into my head is Han Solo and Princess Leia when he’s about to be lowered into the pit. That’s the moment when she chooses to finally confess she loves him. It’s honestly impossible not to see the romantic trope subtext.

Now I have to add a word about Buddie’s record when it comes to the other guy being in danger. In ep 203, Buck tells Ali he’s glad not to be worried about Abby and Ali replies that it must be nice to have someone to be worried about. During the tsunami eps, we have a scene of Eddie leaving Buck a message, telling him about the tsunami and that Eddie’s glad Buck’s missing it. Buck is the person Eddie worries about in a way that parallels how Abby, Buck’s former romantic partner, was the person Buck used to be worried about. That’s pretty powerful in itself, but consider all the times they now had to stand there and watch, incredibly worried for the other man. We had Buck going crazy when Eddie climbed into a burning house in 214, Eddie watching Buck lying wounded in the street in 218 and rushing to hold his hand as soon as he could, Buck losing his mind over Eddie trapped underground in 315, and then Eddie watching the factory explosion knowing Buck’s inside and reacting by leading the charge to get him out. Now we get Buck having to watch Eddie as he’s shot and about to collapse. This scene is made all the more poignant because of all of these other scenes leading up to it. It infuses this scene with accumulated meaning and adds to the sense that even though it was only Eddie who was hit by the bullet, they’re both irreversibly affected by the bullet.

Then Eddie collapses. The danger is still present, the sniper is still around, but Buck is so paralyzed by shock, he can’t even think of taking cover himself, Captain Mehta has to force him to do this. And then as they’re both laying on the ground, they’re still holding each other’s gaze across the firetruck between them. The whole world is narrowed down to the other man’s eyes. More than that, Buck angles his body towards Eddie, almost like he’s stupidly thinking of getting up and running to him, while Eddie’s hand reaches out for Buck. The shots deliberately captures Buck’s body and Eddie’s hand in the frame so that we see this.

When all this is playing with the lead up of Carla advising Eddie to follow his heart, when shows tend to deliver the emotional impact of a character getting hurt through showing us the person who’s their significant other (romantic partner or the person destined to be that) during this, when Ana is nowhere to be found once the emotional climax of Eddie's story in this ep is reached, despite being in the ep… All of this weaves its own narrative about who Eddie’s heart really belongs to.

When I tell you that this is fanfic material! Not only do I mean it, I mean it so much that I actually wrote once a fic where Buddie do that 'stare at each other before death might tear us apart' thing. And I’m sure I’m not the only one. I can't fucking believe 911 actually delivered the fanfic of our dreams.

( NGL, I saw someone misspelling Captain Mehta’s name, writing it without the ‘h’, and for a second I thought I found my superhero name… XD )

Thank you so much to the unbelievable @bicepsie for the awesome gifs. Even when you have a lot going on, you still make these for the weekly meta posts and you’re truly the real MVP! *hugs* If you like my takes on Buddie, you can find more of my meta and fics here. Thank you for reading, and for every reblog and like.

#buddie #buddie meta #911 meta #911meta #9-1-1 #evan buck buckley #evan buckley #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #ana flores #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #911 season 4 #wm #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

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deliriousgeek · 3 years

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Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: A quiet evening meant for celebration is thrown into chaos. Y/n wills herself to play into the daunting role that comes with being Thomas Shelby’s wife, because it might be the only thing keeping her alive.

Masterlist

Tommy lowkey feels very oc so idk how to feel about that. im not good at writing suspense...its also very long. ha :,)

Warning: blood, guns, knives, fights, usual peaky blinder violence

If anyone knew Y/n Shelby, then they would know that she can’t stand seeing dead bodies. Although in her case, having that reaction would seem ironic, considering her husband was Thomas Shelby.

It was around 9pm when Y/n slipped her night robe off and lay back on her bed. Her night was just winding down and she was waiting for Thomas to get back. He said he would try to be home around midnight, and to not wait up. He and his brothers would be at the Garrison, celebrating Arthur’s return from prison and discussing what was to be done with the Jews and Italians next.

Y/n knew it would be a couple hours for Tommy to be home, so she settled onto their bed and grabbed a book off her night stand.

The room was bathed in a warm, orange and yellow light— the type of light candles can give. When she was home alone, Y/n liked to use candle light. It reminded her of a time before the war and before this gang business, when all she and Tommy had to worry about was getting enough candles to light up the dinner table.

Half an hour had passed and Y/n had gotten through a decent number of pages in her book. She felt her eyes drooping and decided it was time to call it a night. She stretched and cracked her neck before turning to place her book on the nightstand. Just as she was about to place the book down, she heard a creak downstairs.

She froze.

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be back until midnight and none of the Shelby family would come over this late without a call, that was their safety protocol.

She listened for more creaking.

After Tommy had bought their house he had insisted on replacing the creaky floor boards, but decided to keep a few. In certain spots, that could be easily avoided if one knew where to walk, the floor would still creak. It was a safety thing that Tommy and Y/n agreed would be good to have. If the floorboards downstairs still creaked after the first step, it wasn’t one of them.

Creak...creak...creak...

That wasn’t Tommy.

Y/n took in a deep breath as she put herself back into a sitting position on the bed. An intruder was in her house. At the moment, the Peaky Blinders had a lot of enemies. It could be anyone. Mostly, someone with a gun.

She listened as the person made their way upstairs. She could hear them passing Tommy’s office, and the guest bedroom. This person knew where their room was, and she could only deduce from their movement’s that they were coming for her.

Y/n was scared. She knew how to defend herself, but didn’t like doing it if she didn’t have to. Rolling her shoulders, she prepared herself for the inevitable. She’d have to fight tonight.

To be clear, Y/n Shelby wasn’t unable to fight. She was a pro at throwing knives, which she preferred to guns; much to Tommy’s dismay. She knew how to shoot a gun and could decently fare in hand to hand combat, but she was still scared. Her heart beat in her chest quickly and anxiety bubbled to the surface. A normal reaction to knowing someone broke into your house to hurt you, or worse. Y/n assumed it was the latter. However, instead of letting her fear show, she turned on her fake calmness. A trick she forced herself to learn as Thomas Shelby’s wife. The alarm that was spread across her face vanished, instead being replaced with an eerily calm facade.

There was no point in locking the door. The person knew how to get past those if he made it into their living room. She heard their steps stop at the front of her door, she raised her book to her face, pretending like she was reading.

Act calm. She told herself.

Then, the door burst open.

Back at the pub, the Shelby brothers were sitting around the table in the snug. Sharing laughs and taking on their third round of Whiskey.

“Alright boys,” Tommy began, placing his glass down and looking around the table. “We’ve had our fun, business begins now.” His content expression turned serious.

His other brothers, and cousin Michael, cleared their throats and straightened up.

“As you know, taking Arthur out of prison is a direct threat to the Sabini’s. It shows that even in London we have enough influence to get our own men out, if needed.”

The brothers nodded, and shared looks.

Tommy continued, “Getting Arthur out was our first move. Now it’s the Italian’s and the Jew’s turn but we don’t know when their next strike will be. So, from this moment on we have to be aware, alert, and ready for every—”

The door flew open.

Sir!” Out of breath, Isaiah stood with one hand on the door knob, looking at Tommy.

“Oi!” Arthur shouted. “You know better than to interrupt!”

Tommy nodded his head at Arthur, then turned to Isaiah. “What is it, lad.”

“Better be important,” John added.

“Sir, the Italians are here. My dad spotted them making their way down the lane. They got a group with guns and a car. We best hurry.” Isaiah said in a rushed voice.

With that all the Shelby men stood and placed their caps on, rushing out of the snug.

Upon noticing the urgency in which the brothers exited, the rest of the Peaky Blinders in the pub were at full alert, waiting for Tom’s next words. The crowd silenced as the brothers stood at the snug doors, facing the onlookers.

“If you aren’t a Peaky Blinder,” Tom eyed the crowd, “leave.”

Noise filled the bar again as chairs shuffled, cups were placed on tables, and the front doors opened and closed.

Tom didn’t speak again until there were only Peaky Blinders left. He pulled out his revolver and checked it, making sure there were bullets, before looking up again.

“Battle formation, men. The Italians are here.”

Then in a flurry of peaky hats and over coats, the rest of the men got into their positions. Some ran up the stairs to get the extra cases of shotguns and revolvers. Others pulled out their own handguns and checked them as well. The Shelby boys looked at each other, a silent way of saying ‘good luck’.

Once Tommy deemed every one armed, he nodded to Arthur, who shouted to move out.

The Shelbies were at the front, while everyone fell behind them in triangle formation. As they marched outside, they could see the group of Italians rounding the corner.

It was rather intimidating. An outline of men and guns on shoulders, a rather sizable group at that, illuminated by the truck headlights that followed behind. It was a sight to see.

Darby Sabini stood at the front, a shotgun slung over his shoulder.

As the groups marched towards each other and came to a stop, a man behind Thomas called out to the front. “At your command Sergeant Major.”

A hushed tone of agreement spread throughout the group.

Darby stepped forward. “Thought you could come on our turf and get away with it, aye?”

Tommy stepped forward as well, hands in his pockets. “It was meant as a friendly gesture, but I don’t think you have enough friends to know what that means.”

A small smirk made its way onto Tommy’s face as he stared Darby down.

Darby narrowed his eyes, irritated at that remark. “I’ll show you what friendly means. Now!”

A hail of gunfire began and the sound of shots being fired filled the lane. It was chaos. Bullets flew and body’s fell. Punches were thrown and blood was spread. More men jumped out of the covered truck and ran to beat down the men on the other side.

Tommy ducked and punched, kicked and shot. In the middle of punching a man in the gut he yelled, “Leave Darby for me!”

His men did just that.

Thomas fought his way to the center of the fight, where Darby had just knocked out a Peaky Blinder. Tommy aimed his gun and walked forward, aiming at Darby. The fighting on both sides ceased.

“I didn’t bring a battalion to your town.” Tommy spoke clearly, in a raised voice.

Darby aimed his gun as well. The two circled each other as men on both sides stopped to observe the interaction. They watched Tommy and Darby tread carefully, like two tentative predators waiting for their opposer to falter.

“You still showed up. That was enough.”

The two men were breathing heavily, a result from the brawls they just finished.

“What’s your purpose for being here, Sabini?” Thomas stopped pacing, his gun still firmly held up.

Darby stopped as well. An obnoxious laugh left his lips. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Tommy didn’t move. He held a blank face, but his eyes still watched Darby with intensity.

Not waiting for a response Darby continued, “I’m reminding you that I can take away everything you have in an instant. I already put your brother in jail, which it seems wasn’t a good enough warning for you, since you stupidly had him released so quickly.”

Darby took a couple steps toward Thomas, gun raised.

“Killing me won’t do anything. I got people in place to still ruin you.” Thomas stated, his tone flat.

Darby lowered his gun, a sickly calm smile spread across his face. It was an unsettling sight that made Tommy begin to think something was off.

“Oh Tommy boy, I’m just the distraction,” Darby’s eyes noticeably darkened, “How’s your wife these days?”

Tommy’s eyes widened and his finger pulled the trigger.

Darby fell to the ground dead, a bullet was lodged in the center of his forehead.

Then like a wave, the fighting began again.

As soon as the gunshot rang, Tommy saw red. He shot, punched, kicked or swung at anyone in his way as he fought to get out of the crowd. He didn’t bother shouting an explanation to his brothers as he ran to his car.

Tommy shoved his keys into the ignition and started the car. Tommy slammed his foot on the gas as soon as the engine roared to life. The car’s lights illuminated the carnage left from the battle. The Peaky Blinders were the last ones standing, as Tommy expected, but paid no mind to. His thoughts too consumed with conjuring the hundreds of horrible possibilities he might see upon arriving home, all ending with a bloodied image of Y/n.

John and Arthur ran towards the car, causing Thomas to slam on the breaks.

“Where are you going?” John asked urgently.

“They’re going for Y/n.” Thomas hastily replied.

John and Arthur jumped on the side of the car just in time before Tommy could speed up again.

Michael and Finn watched as the older Shelby boys passed them.

“Great. So we’re left to clean up the mess.”

At the house, Y/n held her book to her face as the door burst open. She turned her head and was met with the sight of a man pointing a gun at her. His clothes were clean and he looked very young. Her eyes flitted from the gun to his shoes, then to his eyes, then back to the gun.

“On your feet.” He demanded.

“What?” Y/n feigned innocence, despite her struggle to keep calm.

The man, gun still held towards her, trudged over and ripped the book from her hands, throwing it onto the floor.

“I said on your feet!” He yelled in her face, backing away so he was a few feet from the bed.

She stared into his eyes, an impassive look on her face. Y/n looked back down at the gun.

With a purse of her lips and a shrug she stated, “I’d rather not.”

The man’s soldier esc demeanor nearly slipped at her blatant defiance of his orders. “It’s not an option lady! Get up.”

She chuckled. “Y’see, lad. I’ve been on my feet all day. Have you ever worn heels for over six hours? Rather painful you know.”

Her cocky attitude betrayed her quickly beating heart that was full of adrenaline.

In an effort to scare her, he menacingly stepped forward. “I ain’t afraid to hurt you lady, but the boss wants you alive. If you keep disobeying me, I'm allowed to use force.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh really, and who is your boss? I must thank him for not wanting me dead.”

She knew she was playing with her life, but if this boy was as inexperienced as he looked, she would get the information she needed to warn Tommy. Granted, if she got out of this situation.

“Sabini.” The man bluntly answered.

Y/n swallowed. This wasn’t good. If Sabini’s men were here and not in London, she needed to warn Thomas immediately. Her heart pumped faster than she thought possible and every nerve in her body was on the verge of trembling from fear.

“I see.” Y/n turned her head to the foot of the bed. “Well, like I said, I’d rather not get up. Matter of fact, I’d rather keep reading. So be a dear and hand me my book, would ya?” She was stalling.

“C’mon lady, stop being stubborn. You don't even got a weapon to be making these demands.” The man sneered.

Y/n slowly adjusted herself so that she scooted away from the pillows that propped her up. She straightened her legs on the bed, her left crossed over her right. Then she leaned back on her arms, purposely pushing up her chest to show off her unbinded chest. Hopefully, he’d be dumb enough to look at her distraction, and he was.

“Ah, well. It was worth a shot. I can tell that you're new to this whole— kidnapping thing. If you want to get better at it then you should learn this.” She paused before looking back at the man, “Always do research on your target.”

The young man’s brows furrowed, obviously confused.

“If you did your research, like a good little gangster,” She began as she slid her left leg up off her right, causing her silk nightgown to slowly expose her leg. The man’s eyes roamed her leg once she stopped moving, leaving her left leg in a bent position. She reached for the hem of the dress and raised it further up her left leg, stopping until it got to her mid thigh, “Then you would know, that I’m always armed.”

In a swift and well practiced motion, Y/n grabbed the sharp, throwing knife from her thigh holster, and threw. The knife landed in the man’s chest, in his heart. Looking down at the knife, the man stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling onto his back. Blood quickly formed a growing splotch of red on his shirt. Y/n quickly stood from the bed to remove the gun from the man’s hand, she then crouched over him.

She placed her hand on the knife handle, “It was a shame you didn’t do your research.” Then she pushed the knife forward, until she felt through the blade that it had really punctured his heart.

Y/n stood over the man’s body, gun in her hand, and watched the blood puddle grow. She backed away until her knees hit the bed and gave way. Letting out a shaky breath, she sat with the gun in her lap. In an attempt to avoid looking at the body laid in front of her, Y/n stared at the ceiling.

The adrenaline began to wear off, and the reality of the situation dawned on her. She could have died, quite easily too. If her attacker had not been so inexperienced and if she wasn’t wanted brought back alive, she could have died. Then, she thought of her husband.

Tommy.

Had the man lying dead on her carpet opened the door and shot, Tommy would have had to come home to her dead body instead. The thought of Tommy finding her body, cold and bloody, scared her more than death. She couldn’t imagine the pain of him being alone. He would blame himself for her death. He would say he couldn’t protect her, and he would loathe himself for the rest of his life. Tears began to prick her eyes and her throat tightened. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to go away and for her erratic heart beat to calm down.

She killed a man.

That’s the only thought she could process. Her emotions muddled her thinking. Never before had she used her knives to kill. She used guns, from far away. She used punches to knock people out. She used her knives to injure, but never before had she needed them to kill. She was slightly glad for the memory of Tommy coming back home from an errand, returning with the thin knife holster that he insisted she wear when he wasn’t home. She was also glad that she made it a rule for herself to never take it off unless Tommy was home with her.

Then, the silence of the house was broken again. She flinched. This time, the sound came from the front door slamming open and muffled shouts that she could only register as her name.

“Y/n! Y/n where are you?” The voice shouted.

She couldn’t pinpoint who it was, not in her boggled state of mind, but she knew it was safe. So she answered.

“In the bedroom.”

Her eyes were still shut and her head faced the ceiling when Tommy rushed in.

“Y/n.” His voice was slightly breathless as he took in the sight before him.

The room was covered in warm, candle light, giving a complete opposite tone to the tense atmosphere. His wife sat on the bed with a gun in her lap. A man, with his wife’s knife in his chest, laid dead on the ground and a puddle of blood surrounded his wound.

Y/n opened her eyes and looked at her husband. She could see the fear and worry that filled his eyes, his face in slight shock.

Thomas was relieved to see his wife unharmed, but he could see the tears that were threatening to fall. Her slumped shoulders were signs of exhaustion. The way her chest moved up and down with heavy breathes told him she was on the verge of holding herself together.

Arthur and John came bounding up the stairs next, and found their places on either side of Thomas.

Y/n’s voice came out void of emotion, but her teary eyes said it all. “One of Sabini’s men.” She stated before turning her eyes to the ceiling once more, trying to blink away tears. “Please get him out of my sight.” The growing puddle of blood made her want to throw up.

“You heard her,” Thomas said in a low tone, staring at his wife with concerned eyes. “Get rid of ‘em.” His voice was just above a whisper.

Arthur and John stepped forward, grabbing the man by his arms and lugged him out of the room. Only once the man had been removed did Thomas walk towards his wife. Only when he wrapped his arms around her did she let herself cry. She let herself sob and express how truly scared she was when the man burst into her room, and pointed a gun to her head.

Thomas held her close and kissed her head. He whispered in her ear that she was okay, and that she did what she needed to do. Holding her close, he told her he loved her, and promised to never let anything like that happen to her again.

Masterlist

well I tried

Edit: Bro this blew up in less than a day with 41 notes. Thank you♡

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x wife reader #thomas shelby x wife reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby wife imagine #thomas shelby x hurt reader #thomas shelby x reader protect #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby wife imagine

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scarofthewind · 3 years

Text

Slashers on Mother’s Day

A/N: Here is the first part of the mini, multi-fandom series I am doing in honor of mother’s day! I hope you all enjoy this pure fluff!

Mother’s Day master post

Warnings: None, pure fluff and joy, reader is a mother obviously

word count: 2.6k Tip Jar (every bit helps!)

Spoils you too much:

Charles Lee Ray: “I think she’ll like this one, what do you think?” Charles asks his daughter who stood next to him, looking up at the overpriced jewelry in her father’s hands. “Too big,” she shakes her head and Charles agrees after looking it over once again. He already had a whole basket on his arm full of stuff for you ranging from stuffed animals your daughter had picked out to flowers, jewelry and even some pieces of clothing. Just as the two thought they were done shopping and walked over to the check out, Charles pauses by the perfume stand and looks them over, picking up a few and smelling them before bending over and letting his daughter smell. “Smells like grandma, Dad,” she scrunched her nose as he quickly put it back. They spend more time shopping than they need to but the smile on your face when they bring out the loads of gifts is enough to make everyone happy.

Brahms Heelshire: Brahms did all his shopping days before Mother’s day, but the amount of items he’d purchased made you question his sanity. “Don’t look at me, she picked that out,” Brahms shrugged, pointing to your daughter who was giggling next to you. “Mommy will look like a princess,” her contagious laugh made Brahms crack a smile as you put the simple tiara on your head. “Uh oh, the Queen needs to watch out,” he joked, resting his head on his palm as he watched you continue to open the countless gifts scattered in the living room. “You know this was too much right? Flowers and a card are usually what’s expected.” You told him with a smile. Brahms nodded over to the coffee table where a giant bouquet of flowers and a few cards sat, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I think you got this one for yourself,” you said to your daughter who was playing with the stuffed animal she had picked out as well. Another giggle erupted from her as you tickled her sides, Brahms watching from his spot, his heart flooding with a warmth he wanted to keep forever.

Jason Voorhees: Since he doesn’t come from money, or have it for that matter, he likes to spoil you in other ways like physical touch or by waiting on you hand and foot. “I can get to the bathroom by myself you dork,” you told your lover as he carried you from the couch to the bathroom, only letting you down when you were inside. When you shut the door, Jason turned around to look at his daughter who was coloring a picture for you for Mother’s Day. “Look! Look!” She squealed in joy, waving her father over before pointing at the messy shaped people. “There’s you, me, and Momma!” Her eyes looked up to Jason with excitement and happiness that made him smile. “Should I draw her another one?” She asked, reaching across the table to grab another piece of paper before aggressively scribbling on it. The bathroom door opening made Jason move towards you, picking you up and walking you over to the kitchen table, not wanting you do any moving on your own today. With a soft kiss to your head once he sat you in a chair, he moved to sit next to you, watching as your daughter gave her artwork to her mother and wondering how he got so lucky.

Bubba Sawyer: He woke up with the sun and so did his kid; both of them ready to spoil you as soon as you woke up with small gifts and lots of love. “I think we should make chocolate chip pancakes!” Bubba’s son said with a lopsided grin as they both stood in the kitchen. Looking at the stove, Bubba scratched his head, unsure of the recipe or how you even make them, his child doing the same thing. “Maybe we just make coffee?” The little boy suggested and Bubba nodded, moving over to the coffee machine and getting it started. “Flowers,” Bubba said suddenly, remembering what it was he thought he was forgetting. With a determined nod, his son took off to the garden to pick some of the wildflowers before bringing them inside to help his dad make them look pretty. Carefully taking the vase over to the table where a card and some homemade candy sat, Bubba set the flowers down and nodded in approval. “Boys?” You asked from upstairs, tiredly waking up and running your hands over your face before hearing two sets of footsteps come barreling up the stairs. “Happy Mother’s Day, Momma!” Your son shouted as he leapt across the bed, tackling you in a hug before Bubba did the same, nearly knocking the air from your lungs. The faint smell of coffee in the air and the spoils of a father and son with more than enough love to give, made your day the best.

Wakes you up with a kiss and breakfast:

Michael Myers: “I made this at school for her,” Michael’s daughter said to him, holding up a poem about mother’s day she’d written for you. “I’m sure she’ll love it. Can you do me a favor and set the table?” He said gently, watching his daughter nod and walk over to the silverware drawer while he continued working on the bacon and eggs that were hot on the stove. It was quiet between the two like usual until his daughter spoke once more, “I’m hungry, when’s she waking up?” Turning the stove off and putting the pans on the opposite side of the appliance, Michael wiped his hands off on the kitchen towel before looking over at his child. The vase full of flowers almost blocked her tiny body from his view but when he stepped around the table, he could see her eyes that matched his, glimmering with excitement. “You stay here and I’ll go get her okay? Get your poem ready that you made for her,” Michael watched as she grabbed the paper and held on to it as he walked upstairs to the bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. Looking around to make sure his daughter didn’t follow, Michael walked over to the side of the bed where you slept and began peppering kisses all over your face, watching you twitch and let out a low groan at being woken up. With a small smirk, Michael began kissing lower, his mouth attaching itself to your neck before you shot up, pushing him off you. “Happy Mother’s Day,” he chuckled, watching you smile and shake your head at him before moving to press a kiss to his lips.

Pelle: All you felt were the feather-light kisses of your husband as he pressed his lips against your cheek, waking you from your sleep. As your eyes opened, Pelle pulled back and grinned down at you, letting you sit up before pressing his lips to yours, “Happy Mother’s Day to the best one in the world,” he said softly, your heart warming at his words as you hear the bedroom door open and your kids come walking in, the eldest holding a tray of food and the youngest carrying a cup carefully towards you. “We made breakfast- well- technically Dad did,” your oldest said with a smile, setting the tray down on your lap and letting his sibling set the cup down on your nightstand. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you said with a small smile, letting your kids hug you tightly, the youngest one crawling into bed next to you. “How else would we show our appreciation for you?” Pelle hummed, the corner’s of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “We also have flowers and a few cards for you but I left them in the living room,” your eldest told you before he turned and went to get them. “Love you Momma,” the younger sibling said, yawning at your side with a tired smile on their face. “I love you too,” you replied, pressing a kiss to their head before looking down at the food on your lap and digging in.

Thomas Hewitt: “A little to the left- just a bit more- perfect!” Thomas taped up the Mother’s Day banner in the place his daughter instructed before moving back and looking at it with a nod. “What flowers should I get?” His son asked as he came through the front door, hands covered in dirt. “Anything that’s bloomed and that’s not brown already,” Thomas told him before the boy took off outside. The daughter walked to the kitchen, fixing up the rest of the food before setting the table and getting the coffee ready. “You should go wake her up, Dad, I can get the rest of the stuff set up since there’s not much left.” With a nod, Thomas moved towards the stairs, making his way to the bedroom and opening the door only to find you sitting up in bed. “Did we wake you?” Thomas asked as he walked over, leaned down, and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You shook your head after he pulled away before moving to your knees to chase after his lips, kissing him once more. A low chuckle left him once you had your fill, a lazy smile resting on your face. “Happy Mother’s Day to the best woman in the world.” He said gently, watching you smile before following him downstairs where your kids waited with a wonderful meal and decorations.

Vincent Sinclair: “What are you doing?” You laughed tiredly as Vincent proceeded to press kisses all along your face and neck, tickling you lightly. “Happy Mother’s Day,” he cooed, helping you sit up before he practically dragged you to the kitchen, showing you all of the food that he may or may not had Bo help him make for you. “Momma!” You heard your twins shout as they ran over from the living room, nearly taking you out as they hugged your legs. “Happy Mother’s Day! You’re the bestest Mom ever!” “We made you some stuff come look!” They both were such high energy that it made your face hurt from smiling as they pulled you over to the living room where they had little crafts all over the place for you. A painting of their handprints as well as Vincent’s that formed a tree made your heart flutter and you knew you’d be hanging that on the wall soon. The front door opened and Bo walked in carrying flowers for you and some candy for the twins, making them turn their attention towards him for the time being. “Happy Mother’s Day to the mother of my nieces,” he smiled at you, giving you a hug before being tackled by the twins as they searched him for the candy. Walking back into the kitchen, you put the flowers in a vase and moved to wrap your arms around Vincent, pressing your lips to his for a second, “Thank you for all this.” With a small laugh and his arms tightening around you, Vincent replied, “Anything for the love of my life and the mother of my two amazing daughters.”

Almost forgets but his kid reminds them:

Billy Loomis: “You’re lucky I told you,” Billy’s daughter laughed from her spot on the couch, a children’s show playing in the background as he struggled to get everything in place before you woke up. Billy cursed under his breath as he nearly knocked the vase that had a beautiful set of flowers, over. “That’s a bad word,” his daughter chimed and he gave her a look that made her face the T.V. quickly. Running his hands through his hair, Billy cleared his throat and poured you a cup of coffee just as you were walking down the stairs, tightening your robe around you and coming into the kitchen. “What’s all this?” You asked, looking down at the cards on the table and the bag of gifts that sat in your chair. “Happy Mother’s Day!” Your daughter shouted, leaping off the couch and running towards you with open arms and a wide smile. “Did you two do all this for me? You didn’t have to.” You said, looking over to Billy who smiled at you in return. “Of course we did, you’re the best mother anyone could ask for.” He pressed a kiss to your lips before his daughter gave him a look, knowing damn well if it wasn’t for her, he would’ve forgotten. However, at least now she had something to blackmail him with.

Bo Sinclair: “Which one?” Bo asked his daughter as he held up two bouquet’s of flowers. “You’re probably going to need both since you forgot,” she sassed back, going back to texting her friends on her phone. “You think she’ll know?” He panicked, taking both anyways and walking over to the card section. Bo managed to sneak out of the house before you woke up to get you Mother’s Day stuff and he prayed that you would stay asleep until he came home. “It’s Mom, she knows everything.” With a glare, Bo ignored his teenaged child’s response before checking out and practically speeding home, making it just in time before you came sauntering to the living room, sleep still on your mind. “Happy Mother’s Day mom,” your daughter said with a smile, giving you a hug and distracting you from her dad’s struggle with putting the flowers in a vase. “He forgot didn’t he?” You whispered to her and she nodded with a small snort of laughter, “Yeah but don’t worry, I put him through the ringer for it,” she replied and you laughed in response before letting her go and making your way over to Bo who was trying to play it cool.

Bughuul: He didn’t mean to forget; the time he spent between the human realm and the realm of the dead had his senses all backwards. So when his son came up to him and asked him what he got you for Mother’s Day, Bughuul panicked. “What do you think she’d like?” He asked his son who thought about it for a second before responding, “Something simple like flowers or something else she likes.” Bughuul sighed, trying to think of what to get you before settling on black roses and a few books and candles he thought you would enjoy. “Thank you for reminding me, I would’ve forgotten without you,” the deity told his son as they set the gifts up nicely in the living room before you came walking in with a cup of coffee in your hands. “Happy Mother’s Day, my love.” Bughuul said gently, watching his son bound over to you and give you a tight hug. “He forgot but don’t worry, I reminded him!” Your son shouted happily, much to Bughuul’s shock and he promptly apologized for the rest of the day.

Norman Bates: With how fast Norman was running around the house trying to set up decorations and get the gifts ready for you, his daughter truly thought he’d end up breaking something. “Calm down, she’s not going to notice,” she told her panicked father as he quickly ran into the kitchen to get breakfast finished and add the finishing touches on your gifts before he remotely began to calm. “I can’t believe I forgot, I feel horrible.” He said, a disappointed look on his face that made his daughter pat him on the back. “It happens to the best of us, no need to worry. Mom loves you and she’ll love all this stuff you set up for her no matter what.” Norman smiled gently at his daughters words before your figure caught his attention ad he made his way over to you. “Happy Mother’s Day,” he grinned, bending down and pressing his lips against yours before he lead you into the kitchen to eat.

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deepdonutkid · 3 years

Text

Kismet

Requested: No

Paring: Shelby!Sister Reader x Isaiah

Words: 5624

Summary: For a year now, you had a secret relationship with Isaiah and even when he is still in the same room with you, you can’t stop feeling lonely. It’s not that you don’t love him anymore, it more about the weight of the secret you have to carry. But with Tommy as you big brother you can’t risk, telling the truth or your man might get shot.

Note:

I was in the mood for a Shelby!Sister reader x Isaiah and it turned out to be way longer than I expected it... and I even cut out dialog... So here it is!

It’s also flavored with Junior Peaky Boys fun at the beginning. And I was inspired by my homegirl’s one shot called star and my story is an addition to hers, it’s the same night, but Bonnie has some other adventures than the reader and Isaiah.

Somehow I feel like everybody is a little ooc, but I couldn’t correct it.

Requests and tag list are still open, feel free to dm me or send me an ask.

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl @justalonelyslytherin @theshelbyclan

Warning: swear words, drinking, binge drinking, gambling, a hinted smut and a sweet ending

It was one of those nights, nothing special, just the usual fellows around the same table in the Garrison. You had fun nevertheless. All your friends were right there, you had enough to drink and you had a luck hand today. The cards seemed to work in your fortune.

Deviously smiling you revealed your hand. You just had won this round and it gave you unholy amounts of satisfactions. “Ha”, you cheered: “Suck it up.”

Your friend shrugged and shoved his coins in your direction. All he said was a very grumpy “There you go”, but it pleased you.

You took the money and peaked around the corner. Where was Michael with the drinks? He was like a brother to you, but he was just your cousin. Maybe it was because you were born just two months before his older sister, Anna. Even though, she was gone Michael came back to his real family and now you were closer than ever. You cared for him, more than your siblings did.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t hit him, if he just left the bar to fuck with some random girl. It was not about him having sex, more about leaving without telling anybody. Especially when he was supposed to get drinks for the table. You moaned and said: “Where is Michael?”

“Probably doing somebody”, Isaiah joked and lit a cigarette. Then he offered you one and you took it gladly. Actually, you bit your lip and gave him the side-eye, but you had to hide your smile in front of the others. Bonnie and Finny weren’t the smartest boys in Small Heath, but you wouldn’t risk it.

You had so much fun with Isaiah that you didn’t even know when it started. Months passed by, while you were completely caught up in your little game with him. Nobody knew it. That was mainly Isaiah’s fault. At first it amused you to keep your relationship with him secret, but now you were ready to tell your family about it. Your boyfriend didn’t like the idea.

Somehow you thought Michael started to notice. He gave you the glace, which said: “I know, dear”, but maybe you were just getting crazy. You just had to be more careful around others now and everything was fine.

The night was still young and you were keen to make Bonnie lose all his money today. He had won the boxing match earlier and the bruises were still visible, but unfortunately for him, he couldn’t win against you. It was just a card game, but it filled you with gleeful joy. This and the fact that Isaiah was sitting next to you. Sometimes he would brush your thigh with his fingers, which made you giggle even more.

“There he is”, yelled Finny while being so fucking drunk, like you never had seen him before. Michael arrived with messy hair and his tie was undone, but he had your drink and that was all that you care for. “Finally”, you fluted and ripped the glass of his hand: “Thank you, babe.”

And the whiskey was still cold, which meant he fucked the girl first and ordered the drinks afterwards. “How was she? Good?” you asked before you took a sip from your whiskey. You weren’t a lightweight when it came to drinking, maybe not as well as Arthur and John, but you could tolerate much more than Ada and Finny. Your little brother was so drunk, he looked like his head was all empty and yet filled with bullshit.

Michael sat down next to you and answered: “Mhh, she was okay, but she talked too much.” Then you felt the weight of a hand on your thigh again. A shiver rushed down your spine, but it was the wrong side. Your cousin had put his hand on your knee. “Everything alright, Y/N?”

You nodded. “Yeah, everything is perfect”, you blabbered hoping he wouldn’t keep asking questions, but he did. “Don’t be so worried, every time I’m with a girl. I know you’re still a virgin, but you can get some too. Tommy wouldn’t be against it.”

How wonderfully wrong he was. Neither were you a virgin nor would Tommy be okay with this. After all, you were his little sister and he wouldn’t accept the guy, you were sleeping with. Of course, Isaiah was a friend of the family, but after the whole thing with Ada and Freddie you had something to worry about.

The best snarky comeback was right on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it without letting something slip. ‘What gives you the idea I’m still a virgin?’ And yet you were silent as the guy who fucked you, sat right next to you. You felt trapped and decided to go straight forward. “Yes, he would. You know it and everybody in Small Heath knows it.”

“Oh whatever”, Michael mumbled: “Just drink enough and you eventually forget about it.”

You grinned and emptied your drink. “Fuck it, let’s play some cards. I’m not done with Mr. Gold over here.” Then you took the cards and dealt them to start the next round.

Much later that night when you brought Finn back home and went straight back to the pub, in front of the entrance, you stumbled into Bonnie. “Is there a reason why you’re smirking?” you asked him. He was gleaming red and smiling like an idiot.

Then you remembered. “The singer, right?” Bonnie nodded and his grin got even wider. “You talked to her?” Again he gave you a silent answer. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside. He was a lot heavier than you thought, but then again, you were just a girl and he was a boxer.

Sometime it was weird to only have male friends, it just happened. Maybe it was because of your brothers. Maybe that’s why you never acted like a proper girl. Of course you felt like a woman and you liked your body, but in your eyes it was so much easier to talk to guys.

“Eyy, where did you found him?” Michael slurred and helped you to put your friend on a chair again. With your hands finally free you had the chance to explain. “Found him outside. I don’t know what he did there, but he talked to the singer.”

Both, Isiah and Michael nodded. It was only logical for Bonnie to freak out after it talking to her. He was there every Friday night looking for the singer and now his brain seemed to melt, just because she said something to him. But neither of you knew, what she said exactly. Maybe this was a problem for another night. It didn’t look like Bonnie was able to answer.

So you ordered some more drinks and sat back down again. In this separate room, which was reserved for your family, it was almost too tempting to get close to your boyfriend again. Isiah looked so good that night and it hurt to be unable to touch him… or to kiss him. But you would be satisfied with just holding his hand now.

It was a curse; you knew it soon after you realized that you loved him. He was handsome, charming and a loyal friend. There was no better man for you, even though you wished you could be together in public. And again you bit your lip and moved your chair away from him.

But you couldn’t think about this anymore, it was too frustrating and luckily somebody else caught your attention. It was Bonnie who mumbled very quietly: “I think she kissed me, but it could be a dream as well. It felt so surreal.” You padded his shoulder and nodded to underline your compassion.

It was just the same with Isaiah. Whenever you two were alone, it was amazing and beautiful. He was so soft and romantic and he just made you happy. But every time you woke up and he was gone, the sweet scenery shattered. And out in public it was getting annoying to find excuses to be with him or getting away, so you could spend some time alone with him and you had to lie to your whole family about your whereabouts. Slowly it became exhausting.

There was nothing you could do about it, so you just drank your whiskey and talked with the boys about Bonnie’s singer and the girl Michael had. It was so easy for them to display their relationship in the public, but of course you didn’t have this privilege as a girl. Apparently, you needed to be protected. Or so it has been explained to you. You wasn’t concerned for your safety but for your freedom. Tommy said it was his job as your big brother to care for you, even if it felt like he was controlling you. You have always been the wild one among your siblings and everything was fine, until your mum died and your dad left. Then Tommy was in charge and sometimes his opinions would vary from yours, which led to fights. And yet you feared what he might do, if he found out about your secret.

All the sudden Bonnie fell from his chair and you groaned. Now somebody had to bring him home as well. First Finn and now him… but why they couldn’t take the whiskey today? You weren’t nearly as drunk as them, but still.

Isaiah stood up and picked his friend up. “I’m taking him home. I’ll be right back”, he said, before leaving.

Now Michael and you were alone. It wasn’t what you wanted. The only thing you could think of was smooching the sweet lips of your boyfriend. You were caught up in your little fantasy, when your cousin woke you up again. “Isaiah is acting weird lately.”

“Oh… really? I didn’t notice”, you replied: “He seemed normal to me.” Your hand grabbed the fringe of your dress. Talking about him made you nervous.

Michael moaned and fumbled for his cigarettes. He put them out, you took one and he turned his between his fingers, when he added: “I don’t know, maybe I’m getting paranoid, but I think he is hiding something from us.” Then he lit his cigarette and took a drag from it.

You inhaled sharply and stared into the void for a second, before answering: “Don’t be silly, he is just as loyal as ever.” Then you laughed and Michael joined in. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just needed to get this off my chest.”

The rest of the conversation went just like usual. You chatted, you bickered and you had fun. While the bell already announced the new day, Isaiah came back.

In this tiny glimpse of a moment you couldn’t hide your smile and he reciprocated. Actually, you were just waiting for Michael to leave now. It was your plan all along, but patience has never been your strong suit.

It took three more rounds for Michael to say goodnight. “Take care of her, will you?” Isaiah nodded. When Michael finally grabbed his jacket and headed to the door, you felt unbelievably excited. Your fingertips slapped a melody on the table, while you watched him leaving. The door shut and now you had what you longed for all night.

You turned around and looked at him. Gosh, waiting felt like an eternity. Now you were the one smiling like an idiot. Slowly Isaiah came closer and his hand pulled you to him for a kiss. “Finally”, you whispered against his lips, before giving him what he wanted.

After you two parted you rested your head on his shoulder. Now you were getting tired as well, but you didn’t want to go to your bed. “I was waiting the whole evening for this”, he moaned and stroked your hair.

The smell of his perfume made you realized how much you missed him too, even though he was with you since you went to Garrison tonight. You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around him to give him a tight squeeze. Then you signed: “I wish we didn’t have to hide” and buried your face in his shirt.

“Babe”, he replied: “We already had this conversation. It wouldn’t end well. Let’s just enjoy what we have as long as we can.” It hurt, but Isaiah was right. There was no chance Tommy was getting you off the hook, once he knew about it. And no matter how you explained it to him, he would still be against it. You were too young for stuff like that, as if he didn’t fucked Greta, when he was the same age.

You leaned back to see his beautiful face again. There was something in his eyes, a twinkle or something like that, but it always made you feel comfortable. A lick of your lip was enough to purpose the idea of doing something nasty. He knew you since you were children and it was like he could read your thoughts, especially the dirty ones.

Isaiah started giggling and asked: “Hey, babe, I still can cheer you up, right?”

Maybe it was time for some fun, different to the fun you had before with your friends. The word pleasure would describe it well and with his knowing look he gave you so many ideas. You laughed and nodded. “I think it might help when you do the thing with your tongue.”

“Oh”, he responded amused: “Like this?” And then grabbed you for a kiss and god, what a kiss it was. His tongue brushed your upper lip just to enter your mouth and explore it as if it was your first kiss. He even bit your lip playfully and kept going until you couldn’t breathe no more. Your knees started shaking and it was needless to say, he was the best kisser you ever had.

It took you a while to catch a breath again, but then you answered: “Yeah, just like this… But maybe we could go to your place and do a little more?”

He didn’t seem to be so sure about this suggestion. His thumb stroked your shoulder as he held you in his arm. Because he was so quiet for a second, you knew, he thought about this backwards and forwards. “But right when the sun comes up, you have to go back home”, he argued.

Again, Isaiah was right. You should take too many risks. Otherwise you might get caught and neither of you wanted that. All you could do was to shrug and agree: “Just don’t shoo me after we fucked.” There was bitterness in your voice. What wouldn’t you give to wake up next to him every morning?

The pub was almost empty, when you left. You couldn’t hold his hand on the way out. Everybody in Small Heath was Tommy’s spy. Back on the streets a cold wind blew. Now you had an excuse to go near him and he shared his coat with you. Isaiah was always so sweet and caring. You knew you wanted to spend your future with him. There was no other man and you wouldn’t get over him, not now and not in five years.

You even took off your shoes before entering the Jesus household and followed him on your tiptoes to his room. It was completely dark in the house and the silence was haunting, but good for you, you knew the way by now. The excitement made your fingers tremble.

Finally you arrived where you wanted to be the whole day, in his room. Isaiah closed the door as quietly as possible and started smiling. You walked up to him and started to unbutton his shirt. Now you didn’t want to waste any time.

And neither did Isaiah. He was ripping down your dress, which only worked because the straps were so thin. His hands were all over your body and you couldn’t stop kissing every inch of his skin. It felt like magic whenever he touched you. You moaned, when he played with your bare breasts. To silence you he put his thumb on your lips, which you took as an invitation to suck it. Maybe it was mean to tease him like that, but you were desperate for his affection.

An hour later you laid next to him, your head on his chest as he stroked your hair. “You should leave, before we both fall asleep, babe”, he whispered, which caused you to sign. Leaving now was draining, even exhausting. After this wonderful sex, you were too tired to move anywhere, not to the bathroom and certainly not back to your cold bed.

You pouted your lips and tilted your head, so you could give him your puppy eyes and a pretty please with cream and a cherry on top. “Just ten more minutes. Your bed is way comfier than mine.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “That’s just because I’m in this bed and you like to use me as your personal giant pillow.” Your fingers hovered about his belly. Even though his muscles weren’t tense now, you could still feel the strength lying beneath his skin.

While your index finger drew circles around his bellybutton, you whined: “Maybe… just maybe that is true, but I still want to lay here for a bit. Otherwise I start to feel like a whore, who only comes for sex and leaves silently afterwards.” It wasn’t a knock against Lizzie or her job, but you didn’t like the feeling, when you got home and had to find sleep in your own bed. Even though you had a relationship with him, you still felt lonely. Especially when the sun was rising and nobody was by your side.

“You’re not a whore and you know that”, he argued looking a little concerned.

Then you turned on your back and stared at the ceiling. “No, I’m a Shelby and that is probably worse”, you scoffed.

Now Isaiah was silent and had no witty comeback for that. Maybe, because it was true. If you weren’t part of the family, you could be with anyone, whoever you wanted. Carrying the name Shelby was the only reason, why you had to hide your relationship with Isaiah.

After a while he mumbled: “Okay, stay for a while, but you should be back before they open the shop.” By that time you were already half asleep and yet his words made you smile. He wrapped his arms around you, the little spoon and purred like a cat. Just in this position the both of you fell asleep.

Loud steps were coming near the door, but they wouldn’t wake you up. The screaming of Isaiah’s name did. It was a familiar voice and it took you a couple of minutes to notice, it was your brother Finn who shouted and ran down the hall. Suddenly you were wide awake. You startled up and looked around the room. The sun was already up and shining through the window. Then you saw Isaiah, who was just as frightened as you were.

If Finn came rushing through that door, your secret relationship was no longer secret. “I locked the door last night”, he whispered, which was relieving to you, but still no perfect solution for this problem.

Now Finn arrived at the other side of the door and was knocking on it like crazy. “Isaiah, wake up! Y/N is gone. Nobody can find her and Michael said you were the last one with her in the bar”, your brother yelled. You could hear the panic in his voice, but you couldn’t get caught. Not now.

You stumbled out of the bed and collected your clothes, when you heard Isaiah ask: “What are you going to do? You can’t go out there. He will find out.” And you knew your boyfriend wasn’t concerned about Finn, more about Tommy.

The tension in the room was immense. You had to come up with a plan or your brothers would shoot your lover in front of your eyes.

Suddenly you knew what to do. You pushed the pile of clothing to your chest and squeeze it thigh, when you explained in a lower tone: “I’m gonna hide in the wardrobe and then you open the door and go with Finn away. Afterwards I can come out and then I go to the betting shop and tell the others I have fallen asleep on a bench or something.” It was not the best plan, but yet your only option.

Isaiah nodded and you climbed into the cabinet where he stored his shirt and jackets. The second you entered the small wooden space, you knew it was all going down. Call it intuition, call it divination, call it whatever power Polly owned, but you felt it rushing through your body. He closed the door behind you and then you could hear him stumble into his pants.

Only half clothed he unlocked the door to let Finn in. Isaiah was still sleepy. He wasn’t the morning type of person and before he hadn’t had his breakfast he wasn’t really available. Finn strode up and down. You heard is nervous steps. “Everybody is freaking out right now. Polly thinks somebody kidnapped her or worse. I mean, she has always been unratable in her doings, but this time my sister is really going of the edge. It’s already past lunch and nobody has seen her”, Finn explained: “This morning her bed was empty and I thought I shouldn’t worry, but now I’m afraid I should have said something sooner.”

The cabinet was very uncomfortable and yet you tried not to move or to make a noise, which would cause Finn’s attention. However, being in Isaiah’s position didn’t seem to be pleasant as well. He had to lie to his best friend about the whereabouts of his missing sister, knowing she was sitting right here. Isaiah patted his friends shoulder and said nothing.

Finn didn’t calm down and seemed to be upset, Isaiah wasn’t panicking like him. “C’mon, get dressed. We have to look for her. She might be lying somewhere in the dirt. We shouldn’t waste even more time, standing around.” Then he walked to the closet and opened just the door where you had been hiding.

Butt-naked you fell down to the floor and looked up to your younger brother, who had the same face expression as the one time you told him where the babies were coming from. Some when later you would look back at this moment and would have a good laugh about this, but right now it felt like your world was collapsing.

He should have seen you like this and it took you a whole minute to gather the mental energy to get back up at your feet and greet him like it was the normal thing to do in a situation like this. “Hey, Finny, there I am.”

Your brother froze mid movement and stared at you as if you were the first pink elephant the world has seen or a bear riding a bike. Then he broke the silence. “What?”, he winced. There was no anger in his voice, just total confusion.

Finn looked to Isaiah and then back to you. “You screwed my sister?!”

There was no answer to this question.

“How long?” Finn asked: “How long did you hide that from me?”

You glared over to you boyfriend as if you were asking him for permission to say something. Isaiah signed and nodded. There was no point in denying this anymore. It was over.

Now you had to tell the truth. “A couple of months, maybe a year or so”, you croaked and your voice sounded strange. Like it was not your own and even though you dreamt about finally opening up, it shouldn’t have been like this.

Your brother yelled: “A year?! A whole fucking year? Damn, I should be proud because apparently you two are excellent liars with no moral issues… you two deserve each other.” You heard the disgust and disappointment, when he spoke and it broke your heart. Back then, when the whole thing started you though he might be the only one of your brothers to understand you. How wonderfully wrong you were.

“No”, you said under your breath: “Don’t fucking do this to me. I would have told you, if you wouldn’t have run straight to Tommy after you knew. Everybody knows you can’t keep a secret. So don’t act like it was my fault or my mistake, because it’s not. I would have gladly told everybody, I’m like him very much, but you and Tommy and Arthur and John made it impossible for me to even talk with a guy who is not part of the gang. You can’t turn this around and act like you are the victim in all this.”

It was time for you to stand up for yourself and your decisions… and time for you to get dressed. You didn’t seem as responsible as you were when you were still naked and in front of the closed you have been hiding in. Now you knew how wrong it was to lie and hide your relationship, because it wasn’t their concern. It was your life, your body and your choice. Nobody could take that from you and certainly not your brothers. You weren’t afraid of them. All your life you saw how your brothers treated women and you said nothing about it, but this should change right now.

So you stood there, furious and filled with rage, put on your dress and your shoes and said one last thing, before leaving: “This madness has to end.”

You stormed out of the room- not caring for Isaiah or Finn- and heading for the King of Small Heath to throw him out of his high throne. Your hair was a nest and you smelled like a bar after a dirty old night, when you entered the betting shop. Nobody was there, just the regular family members.

Everybody seemed to be relieved to see you again and then came close to hug you. Ada was right next to the door and the first to greet you. “Oh my god, you’re back, sweetie”, she muttered.

Next was Polly who examined your appearance for cuts and other injuries. Of course you had none, besides the hickeys Isaiah gave you. She tried to take a closer look of your neck, but you pulled away, which caused her to ask: “What happened? Where were you all night?”

Now Tommy was coming up to you. His steps were slow, but fierce and the glare in his eyes was pinching. “Just from the smell I would guess, she was with a guy this night”, he scoffed: “She probably had a lot of fun, but now she should say, who that guy was, so we can take actions.” You knew he was addressing you, even though he didn’t phrase it like that.

“I don’t think, this is your business”, you replied with a grin on your face. You wouldn’t back down. Not this time. “But yes, I was with a guy tonight. So you don’t need to worry. I’m completely fine.”

Your older brother led out a little laugh, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Well, well, well, I don’t care what you think. I’m your brother and it’s my job to make sure you’re safe”, he explained: “And now you tell me who he was.” Ah, past tense, a hint of what was going to happen.

You crossed your arms and tiled your head to give him a dismissive look. “Who said it was your job?” was your comeback, but your brother wasn’t remotely impressed. Neither of you would let the other win. You were too stubborn for this gesture of insight.

Others, including Arthur and John, were somehow intimidated by Tommy’s behavior, but not you. Actually, you learned too much from him to take his shit. He taught you to help your head up high and how to outsmart your enemies. Now you could use the same strategies against him.

“Ever since our father left and mom died, you act like you are in charge, but you’re not. We are your siblings, not your pawn, waiting for your command”, you hissed: “I have my own life and I make my own decisions and who I meet shouldn’t concern you.” Slowly your anger grew. It was a boiling feeling in your gut, like you were fueled with fire.

Tommy was getting gleaming red. You had hit the right spot and you knew you would hurt him with your words, but otherwise he wouldn’t understand. The words were stuck in his throat as he killed you with his looks.

Patiently, you waited for his answer. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, but silencing your brother was the best thing ever, since he was the reason why you felt miserable lately. “No comeback? No arguments, dear?” You loved to poke his wounds and you did it with a huge smile on your face.

“As if you would listen to me… You even said it yourself. You wouldn’t take my advice”, he responded and bid his lip. “But I don’t need to talk to you to teach you a lesson. You’re too young to fuck around town and I’m going to find the bastard who did this and kill him.”

The door was opened behind you and soon Finn entered the room. You gave your little brother the death glare you were known for. He shouldn’t get the idea he was allowed to talk about what he found out.

You should be raging right now, but all you could do was laugh. His empty threats weren’t as daunting as he thought. With nothing but spite you whistled: “I would love to see you try. I kept this a secret for over a year now and you noticed nothing. And now I can wait another year for you to find him… or I could run away… whatever you prefer.”

Now you’re pushing your luck. Finn could ruin everything, if he just said one wrong word. The palms of your hands were sweaty. It was a dangerous game you played there, but it was not like you could back out of it now. This was road of no return.

Tommy seemed to be more surprised than fuming, when he asked: “You slept with some geezers for a year now?” He respected your talent to keep it under the radar. Everybody who could shirk his rules deserved acknowledgement for putting up with this risk. Maybe he was finally realizing how much you had grown. You weren’t his little kitten anymore.

“No, not geezers, just one guy”, you corrected him: “But yes, that is true.”

You watched Tommy as he walked around the table, heading for the whiskey, while he nodded understandingly. “Mh, so you would say it’s love?”

A sign came from your lips. You already knew the answer, but you weren’t so sure, if you should say this out loud. After all, you didn’t even have a proper talk about this with Isaiah. Silence was filling the room, while you calculated your risks. If you said, you loved him and Isaiah wasn’t as serious about the relationship, you would look like an idiot. Good for you, he didn’t come to the betting shop to witness the fight between you and your brother. Finally you decided to tell everybody: “Yes, I do.”

“Good”, Tommy mumbled while he poured his whiskey: “Then you should have my blessing. Just give us the name now.” He took a sip and seemed to be amused by your embarrassment.

Talking about Isaiah, while he wasn’t present, was weird, but you knew why he stayed in the comfort of his own room. You weren’t mad at him for not running after you. This was your fight and not his. And after all your brothers were a little scary, when it comes to stuff like this.

But you had Tommy’s word now and nothing should happen to your man. You shrugged and rolled with your eyes. The fuss they made about this was still annoying.

Ada patted your shoulder and encouraged you to speak. “Do we know him?” The answer was yes, but it was also the reason, why you struggled to say it out loud.

Even John chimed in and kept pushing: “Yeah, what’s up with this fella?” He was smiling to let you know the mood had changed. Nobody was against you anymore.

“It’s…”, you started and fumbled for the seam of your dress: “It’s Isaiah.”

At first it was dead silence, while the others processed the information, then Arthur and John burst out in laughter. Finn seemed to be relieved, because he would have hated it to keep a secret like this. Your older sister was hugging you a little too tight and even Polly was smiling.

Tommy had a smug on his face when he muttered: “If that’s the case, then you should have your happiness.”

“Isaiah is a fine fella. You will be alright”, hummed Arthur. Apparently everybody was happy with your choice. You just had to stand up for yourself.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders and then you could laugh about it too. But suddenly you remember that Isaiah was still waiting for his death in his room. “I should go and let him of the hook”, you fluted and already went to the door when you heard Tommy said: “Don’t get pregnant or he has to marry you.”

#peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #peaky #peaky blinder fanfic #isiah jesus #isaiah jesus #daryl mccormack #peaky fookin blinders #tommy shelby #shelby sister #isiah x reader #isiah x you #fanfic #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders x y/n

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riffheartsgraziella · 2 years

Note

Love the AU family stuff (and Riff as a dad!), I think you may have alluded to it before but would love to see the family’s reaction to Katie’s first boyfriend!

I got several requests for something along these lines, so I hope everyone who asked is happy with this one!

Also, there’s a tiny little wink in here for all my fellow Mike Faist fans. Let me know if you catch it 😉

The tension in the Lorton household was palpable as fifteen-year-old Katie ran around the apartment like a madwoman, desperate to make sure everything was perfect before her boyfriend arrived for dinner. He had met her mother briefly, but this was the first time he would be meeting the rest of her family, including all five of her older brothers. And her dad. She was most worried about her dad.

Graziella had been in the kitchen all day, knowing how nervous her daughter was and wanting to ensure that everything went as smoothly as possible that night. She’d prepared a fresh salad and a minestrone soup, while the lasagne was still baking in the oven. Riff, on the other hand, had been pouting on the couch all day. He had made it clear from the beginning that he was not happy about his little girl having a boyfriend, and he was working hard to make sure the rest of the family was unhappy, too.

“Katie, come help me finish settin’ the table!” Graziella called, knowing that would at least take her mind off her worries for a few minutes. They’d had to add the extender to the table, now that they had several guests coming over. In addition to Katie’s boyfriend, Riff, Jr. would be coming with his wife, Liza, who was pregnant with their first child. Sean and Michael, both in their early twenties, had moved out as well and were coming over to meet their baby sister’s first boyfriend.

Katie dutifully began setting plates out on the table, though she kept glancing anxiously over at her father. “Daddy, please! Just be nice ta him!” she begged.

“Who said I ain’t gonna be nice?” Riff demanded, scowling.

“Uh, everyone,” nineteen-year-old John commented, walking into the main room of the apartment.

“I’m gonna be nice! Ain’t no reason not ta be nice ta…what’s his name again?”

“Arthur, Daddy! His name is Arthur!” Katie cried, her voice strained. Her mother patted her on the arm comfortingly.

“Arthur. What the hell kinda name is Arthur?” Riff asked, making a face.

“A nice name for a nice boy from a nice family,” Graziella insisted, swatting the back of her husband’s head as she walked past him.

“Please, Daddy! Just don’t…get the way ya get,” Katie pleaded, adjusting the skirt of her dress.

“What does that mean?” Riff demanded, looking offended.

John and Joey tactfully avoided answering that question, both of them hurrying to answer the door when their older brothers and Liza arrived.

“Don’t act like a Jet,” Grazi smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she headed back to the kitchen. She understood her daughter’s pain, but she also understood Riff’s. Katie was their baby, their only daughter, and his little angel. This was hard for him.

Once the whole Lorton clan was settled, a knock on the apartment door sent Katie into another tizzy. “Everyone just act normal!”

Both Graziella and Liza shot her a sympathetic look.

Katie opened the door with a wide smile, stepping aside so Arthur could step into the apartment. “Hiya, Art,” she greeted him, beaming when she saw the flowers in his hand.

“Hi, Katie,” Arthur replied, rather shyly. “Um…these are for yer mom,” he added, holding up the flowers.

“Thank you, Arthur! They’re beautiful!” Graziella exclaimed, stepping forward to accept them. “Aren’t they beautiful, Riff?” she asked, shooting him a pointed look.

“Sure,” Riff nodded, standing in the center of the main room, his five large sons looming behind him. Graziella had to refrain from rolling her eyes at the lot of them.

“Arthur, this is my dad. Daddy, this is Arthur,” Katie said nervously, bringing her boyfriend over.

“Nice ta meet you, sir,” Arthur said, looking terrified. He held out a shaking hand to Riff, who shook it after a short pause.

“An’ these are my brothers,” Katie added quickly, introducing them in age order. Each of them sized Arthur up silently, none quite pleased with the thought of anyone dating their baby sister.

“Let’s eat!” Graziella said, cutting through the uncomfortable silence that followed.

Dinner was a torturous affair for the three women at the table. For Arthur, too, probably. Riff was curt in all his responses and none of Arthur’s comments seemed to impress him. Katie looked just about ready to die when the lasagne was finally served.

“So…um…Liza,” Arthur said, turning to Katie’s sister-in-law. “How long have you an’ Riff, Jr. been married?”

“Almost two years!” Liza said brightly, trying to make up for her husband’s and father-in-law’s sour behavior. “But we’ve been together since we were fourteen!”

“Younger than you an’ Katie,” Riff cut in, looking at Arthur sharply. “Ya gonna marry Katie?”

Arthur practically choked on his dinner and Graziella kicked Riff under the table.

Blushing furiously, Katie slid down in her seat. Liza patted her shoulder gently.

Once dinner was finally over, Graziella immediately ushered Katie and Arthur towards the door. “Why don’t the two o’ yous go for ice cream? We’ll clean up here.”

“Okay, thank you!” Arthur said quickly, too scared to even argue the point.

“Thank you, Mom!” Katie added, kissing her mother’s cheek and practically dragging her boyfriend out of the apartment.

Once they were gone, Graziella turned a dark look on her husband and sons. “Yous are idiots!” she exclaimed, throwing a dish towel at Riff.

“What?” Riff asked, shrugging his shoulders innocently.

“Yous can clean up while Liza an’ I watch TV,” Grazi snapped, leading her daughter-in-law towards the main room.

“Aw, Ma!”

One look from Graziella sent the six men scrambling to do as she’d said.

#riff x graziella #riff x graziella au #west side story #west side story 2021 #riff west side story #graziella west side story #mike faist #paloma garcia-lee #writing prompt

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

Text

Green Thumb

Part 18

Request: Yes or No

Also kind of short

You stared out at the river, fingers warm from the heat of the mug in your hands. You felt tired, empty, and disappointed. The roof was a nice place to sit and think. Your gaze dropped down to the ground below.

"I don't believe this is the safest way to test your abilities, (Y/N). Especially since Sam doesn't have on his wings." Vision said in concern, watching Sam hype himself up. You shook your head, laughing.

"It's definitely not safe." You grinned, watching Sam. He looked down from his spot on the roof, shaking off nerves.

"Run the idea by me again." Vision said as Wanda chuckled softly.

"Alright, Sam is gonna jump off the roof and I'm gonna use my powers to keep up in the air. If they don't work, Wanda will catch him."

"You're gonna allow this, Wanda?" Vision looked at the redhead. Wanda shrugged, sipping on her tea with a small smile.

"Ready?" Sam called, sliding down his googles. You nodded, backing up a bit, grinning widely. Sam backed up out of sight before running off the roof. You raised your hand, watching him suddenly fly up. He screamed, arms and legs flailing.

"You might gonna to catch him, Vis!" You called as Sam briefly disappeared past a cloud. Vision flew up, catching Sam and flying back to the ground. Sam raised a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat as he panted.

"Again?"

"Again."

"Kind of chilly out here, don't you think?" You turned your head, looking at Tony. He took a seat beside you, sighing.

"So, how'd it go?" Tony asked, turning to look at you. You licked your lips, lightly shrugging as you sipped on your hot chocolate.

"Good. I learned a lot about my family. It was confirmed that, uh, I was indeed abandoned by my mother. It's great." You told him, giving a small nod. Tony hummed.

"It builds character." Tony said. You snorted, looking down at the hot chocolate.

"Yeah, I guess so." You muttered.

"What'd you learn?" Tony asked, watching you. You sighed, head tilting up. You stared at the passing clouds.

"That my dad was killed here... By.. The Winter Soldier." You breathed out. Tony stayed silent, frowning as he nodded.

"I.. I can't blame him. He was brainwashed and not in control. How did you react when you found out about Bucky and your parents?" You asked, looking at him. Tony licked his lips, looking away from you. He seemed to think about his words, eyes squinting slightly.

"I.. I was more hurt by Rogers than by what Barnes did. Rogers kept it from me and he never planned on telling me. Even if we didn't consider each other friends.. We were teammates. How was I supposed to be okay with trusting him with my life when he was never gonna tell me about my parents?" Tony frowned, sighing heavily. You bit your bottom lip.

"I'm sorry Steve betrayed you like that." You said softly. You wouldn't want to work with someone who betrayed you either. You took in a small breath, looking at him curiously.

"Do you think Steve knows? About my dad?"

"Unless Barnes saw some similarities between you and your dad, probably not. Your dad covered his tracks. He made sure he wouldn't be connected to his family. Very smart of him." Tony offered a small smile. You reached into your back pocket, taking out a photo. It was of the whole family. Your grandparents, Florine, Michael, and even Gerdie as a pup. You turned it around to the back, looking at the phone number.

'Call when you need me, kid'

"People really need to stop calling me kid." You mumbled, huffing softly. Tony chuckled.

"You look like one."

"Oh, fuck off, old man." You gave Tony a playful glare. He scoffed, touching his chest dramatically.

"Are you really gonna retire? I mean, at this point, you're asking to be called an old man." You pointed out, grinning when Tony rolled his eyes.

"Pepper and Morgan need me. I don't want to be an absent father. I know how it feels to have one and.. I don't want to be like my father. I won't make the same mistakes."

"You'll make new mistakes." You shrugged lightly. Tony shot you a look. "But I'm sure you're a great father!"

"Right." Tony grunted, shaking his head. You chuckled softly, placing your cup beside you. You inhaled softly.

"When I was drunk.. I vividly remembering saying that you suck before passing out. What happened?"

"Oh, you were a goddamn mess. Definitely an emotional drunk." Tony replied, making you groan softly, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

"You said I was a lucky bastard and you cried.. You also kissed me." Tony looked at you, gaze searching for a reaction. Your lips parted, brows raising.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Uhm.." You licked your lips, straightening up and clearing your throat. You stayed silent, thinking of what to say in response.

"Pepper doesn't have to know. It was a drunk kiss that nobody really saw, right? I mean, I already have enough on my plate. I don't need an angry wife on top of that." You blurted out, shrugging lightly. Tony cleared his throat, nodding.

"Yeah, of course. It barely lasted a second." Tony looked forward, scratching the side of his neck. Awkward silence took over, both you and Tony unsure on how to proceed without making things even more weird.

"How are you?" Tony suddenly asked, turning towards you. "Like, in general."

"Terrible."

"Yeah, I feel that. Wanna... Wanna talk about it?" Tony asked. You stared at him, brows furrowing.

"Are you practicing on me for when Morgan needs a talk with you?" You questioned, head tilting slightly. Tony shrugged.

"Yes and no."

"That's nice." You huffed softly, gaze drifting towards the setting sun. You watched him, shoulders slumping.

"I feel.. Incredibly alone. Yeah, Nat is here but I can't rely on her. She has her own issues to deal with. Bruce... Bruce is god fucking knows where and if I tried talking to him, he'd probably just stand there. Clint is also god fucking knows where. Thor fucked off the moment they came back from killing Thanos. The outerspace crew is kind of weird. Steve is... Steve. He'd just give me a speech and a pat on the shoulder. Carol barely comes to Earth and she's also pretty intimidating." You licked your lips, shaking your head as you brought your knees up to your chest.

"The people I used to talk to have either.. Died or chosen to leave. I have to take care of a big ass fucking farmhouse cause its goddamn owner left! My life is slowly falling apart and I have to comfort myself cause nobody seems to care enough! I am so fucking tired of feeling tired. I thought I had found a family but I guess I'm not good enough for those." You raised your voice, feeling the wind get harsh for a quick minute. You let out a deep breath, eyes shutting to keep the tears from falling. You felt an arm wrap around your shoulders, gently leaning you against a warm body. You sniffle, a shakey sigh leaving you.

"And I am so tired of crying." You whispered. Tony gently leaned his head against yours, hand squeezing your arm.

"I know.. I'm sorry." He said quietly. You relaxed against him, feeling numb and empty. You looked down at the photo. You wondered if this was the life Michael had wanted for you. To be a hero to a planet missing fifty percent of its inhabitants.

"You know what might make you feel better?" Tony asked.

"What?" You sat up, using the sleeve of your jacket to wipe your nose as you sniffled. Tony stood, motioning for you to follow. He offered his hand, watching you pick up the mug. You took his hand, holding it as Tony led you off the roof and down the stairs. You placed the mug on the nearest table, letting him guide you outside and onto the field. You stood in the middle, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"Letting it out." He finally answered, letting go of your hand and taking some steps back. He raised his arms.

"Let it out. Scream, kick, punch, curse. Let it all out." Tony said, smiling widely. You sniffled, still unsure.

"C'mon, I'll do it with you. On a count of three, okay? One... Two... Three!" You inhaled with Tony, eyes shutting as you screamed as loud as you could. You heard Tony chuckle in amazement, opening your eyes. You noticed he had been knocked down onto the grass, the trees nearby having been bent back by the wind. The grass around your feet were burned and gray clouds had formed in the sky. You noticed Tony looking up at something behind you so you turned, blinking and slowly looking up at the large ice spikes that almost reached the clouds.

"Holy shit." You whispered, taking a step back.

"You're still on the tip of the iceberg with your powers, Elsa." Tony said, getting up as it began to thunder. You felt some weight off your chest, turning to face you.

"You know.. That actually did help." You chuckled, smiling gently.

"Well, I am a genius." Tony replied, digging into his pocket and pulling out car keys.

"I should get going. Pepper's cooking dinner and I don't want to miss it." Tony said. You nodded, walking with him towards the road. A sports car drove out of the garage, stopping infront of Tony.

"All my things have already been sent home." Tony said, looking at you. You hummed, nodding.

"You can be an asshole sometimes but.. You'll be missed." You told him softly. Tony gave a genuine soft smile.

"You should visit, kid. You might like my new place." Tony said, opening the door and getting in.

"Give me a call and I'll visit when I can." You said, watching him buckle up. Tony nodded, sliding on sunglasses.

"I'll be seeing you."

"Not really looking forward to it." You replied, hearing a small snort before the car drove off. You watched it go, sighing softly. You looked over at the spikes, licking your lips.

"What more can I do?"

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace @jjk-is-my-shit

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on-maars · 3 years

Text

Parenthood

Finally took the time to write a lil something for buddie again. Hope you’ll like this 🥰

Just Bobby acting like a dad to Eddie and them having a quick chat about his (obvious) feelings for Buck.

Read it on AO3.

Bobby doesn’t usually ask Eddie to help in the kitchen. Not that he doesn’t want it, he just knows that cooking is not exactly Eddie's area of expertise. This is a widely accepted truth among the 118.

Still, when Eddie asks him if he needs a hand in the kitchen this morning, Bobby finds himself nodding and handing him the knife to chop the vegetables while he’s keeping an eye on the meat.

Bobby doesn’t need much time to realize that Eddie’s sudden burst of willingness to cook may have been brought about by ulterior motives; his hand gestures are way too hasty, too sharp and the vegetables start to suffer the consequences, looking more like some kind of puree rather than small squared pieces like he asked him to a few minutes ago.

Bobby doesn’t say anything at first, wondering if it’s his place or not, but he quickly realizes he doesn’t have to. Eddie takes that decision for him a few minutes later by abruptly letting go of the knife, a dull sound resonating inside the living-room. Both Hen and Chim look up at him, share a quick glance with each other and flee the scene without looking back.

“I think I’m gay.” Eddie suddenly says and Bobby raises his eyes at him, wondering why Eddie opened up to him of all people, surely someone like Hen or Michael would be more helpful in the matter. Still, he stays silent and offers him a small smile of encouragement. “Demisexual, too.”

“Okay.” Bobby only answers.

“It means that I-”

“I know what being demisexual means, Eddie.” Bobby cuts in.

“I- I didn’t.” Eddie says, lowering his voice. “I only just found out about it. About everything, in fact. And- there’s a lot of terms, Bobby. It’s- it's a lot.”

“It can be pretty overwhelming at first.” Bobby agrees. “I wouldn’t know half of that stuff if it wasn’t for May and Harry.” He adds.

“Yeah, May was- She was very helpful actually. She was the first person I- I told. She kept sending me these articles afterwards and after a bunch of sleepless nights, it finally started to make sense. Or I mean I- I think it does. I’m still- still trying to figure it out, really.” Eddie asks, letting out a bitter laugh. “I mean, look at me. Coming to terms with my sexuality at age 30, it’s- it’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.”

“You’re not.” Bobby says, his voice determined. “Eddie, there’s no right way to figure out your sexuality just like there’s no right age to come out. And yeah it might be easier for some people but if that’s how you feel today then that’s valid too, Eddie. And these terms… These terms you’re looking for online, they’re only here to help, you do know that right? If you don’t exactly fit in a box, that’s okay too.”

“Yeah, yeah I- I know.” Eddie says, the tone of his voice still uncertain. He picks the knife again and goes on chopping the vegetables, more slowly this time, with more patience, more precision. He doesn’t look at his Captain in his eye, though. Not after what he just said, not after this conversation. And Bobby doesn’t push. He never does. He brings back his attention on the meat instead, turning the steaks so that they cook evenly.

For a few minutes, neither of them say anything. They just sit there, enjoying the silence, enjoying the quiet.

Eddie’s the first one to break it.

“It’s just not something I’ve been exposed to before, you know.” Eddie says. “The way I was raised, the house I grew up in. It’s never been something- something I had the luxury to think about.”

“But this changed.” Bobby finishes for him, smiling softly at Eddie when this one darts his eyes towards him for just a few seconds, looking away just as fast. Bobby can see him put his fingers together into a fist, most likely trying to push through the conversation despite the fear of confiding in someone about something so personal, so intimate.

“How could it not change?” Eddie answers, and Bobby catches him looking softly at the sleeping figure of Buck on the couch.

“You know you should just tell him.”

As soon as these words leave Bobby’s mouth, Eddie looks down, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red as his right hand rubs the skin of the back of his neck. “Tell him what?” He asks and Bobby rolls his eyes at him.

“Tell him how you feel.” Bobby clarifies. “You know he’s only waiting for you to get there.”

Bobby follows his gaze and his own eyes fall on Buck. Buck who’s sleeping on the couch, his mouth slightly agape, a book in his hands.

Bobby knows the kid enough to say with absolute certainty that the book he’s holding most likely focus on whatever topic Christopher is studying at school. It’s not rare for Bobby to find Buck deeply involved in a research spree on the internet, just to be able to talk about it and exchange some interesting facts with Christopher at the end of the day.

“How can you be so sure?” Eddie asks.

“It’s Buck.” Bobby answers so simply, like it’s reason enough. “He’s my kid.”

“How- how long have you known?” He says, his expression quizzical.

“That you two love each other?” Bobby starts, his eyebrows raised. “We all had our doubts. You’ve always been joined at the hip, Eddie. Sure, Buck was more vocal about it than you... You’ve always been quieter, more cautious.” He goes on but quickly adds when Eddie looks up at him with an alarmed expression on his face. “Which is not a bad thing. It’s just the way you are.”

“How could- how could you guys have known for so long?” Eddie asks with a sigh, his eyes still focused on the sleeping form of Buck. “I’ve been… I’ve been so clueless.”

“It’s not a competition, Eddie.” Bobby reminds him. “There’s a very thin line between friendship and relationship. And it doesn’t matter how long it took you to get there, Eddie. Because when you think about it, nothing of what you guys shared and continue to share today is going to change. It’s still gonna be there. You’re still gonna be best-friends before anything else.”

“I guess.” Eddie says, still unsure.

“Nobody’s asking you to tell him now, you know?” Bobby asks. “You can take your time. Let it sink in.”

“No I’m-” Eddie starts, shaking his head. “I’m ready.” He says, his voice determined. “Turns out getting shot really put things into perspective.” He adds, letting out a nervous laugh.

As if electrocuted by Eddie’s words, Buck wakes up with a start, his entire face contorted with what Bobby guesses is fear. He looks around in alarm for a few seconds, his eyes shining with tears, until they both fall on Eddie and his face suddenly softens. The gaze is so soft, so intimate, Bobby almost wants to look away.

Buck approaches the kitchen counter quietly and sits on the chair, running his now shaking hands through his face. His eyes find Eddie again and the older man simply nods and places his left hand on the table, and Bobby realizes that’s simply another one of their non-verbal conversations.

No one in that firehouse had mastered the art of speaking without actually exchanging words more than these two.

Bobby observes Buck as he slowly encircles his best-friend's wrist with his finger, his index and his third finger resting between Eddie’s wrist bone and tendon, no doubt checking his pulse. His hand shakes for a few more seconds but a soft smile eventually stretches up his lips when Eddie intertwines their fingers together.

“You’re okay?” Eddie asks.

“I am, now.” Buck answers, lowering his eyes towards their intertwined fingers. Bobby turns around to take the plates out and give them some privacy. But he can still hear the next few words coming out of Eddie's mouth.

“What was it this time?” He asks.

“The- the shooting. You were dying before I had the chance to drive you to the hospital.”

“Well I’m here now.” Eddie says and Bobby can picture the smile on his face. “We’re okay.”

The conversation flows smoothly after that, Buck helping Bobby and taking over Eddie’s cooking, stating that “no one should have to face food poisoning that early in the day.” Eddie nudges him playfully and takes a seat, checking in with Carla to make sure Christopher is okay at home.

“Did you know that there are more than 120 pyramids in Egypt? Give or take.” He says excitedly and Bobby rolls his eyes at him, not missing the way Eddie’s face softens at his words.

“I did not know that.”

“Crazy, right? And some of their stones weigh more than an Elephant, Bobby! And you know Ancient Egyptians were very big on astronomy and researchers said that they might have used the stars to align their pyramids. Although, I guess we’ll never know for sure cause the alignment of stars is constantly changing, you know, but that’s pretty cool, right?”

“Is Ancient Egypt Christopher’s new passion or Buck’s?” Bobby asks in Eddie’s direction.

“Both, apparently.” Eddie smiles.

“By the way Eds, there’s this Egyptian Museum in San Jose, they say it holds the largest collection of Egyptian artifacts, I thought we could check it out. It’s a five hours car drive, it's a bit long but we could make it work during a week-end maybe. Chris would be thrilled.”

“Sounds like a plan, Evan.” Eddie answers and Bobby frowns, surprised to see that the Evan privileges now seem to have extended and included Eddie. For a few seconds, he wonders whether he’s been slow on the uptake about that sudden advancement in their relationship but then he can see Buck’s face light up and turn a bit redder than usual and Bobby just knows that it’s just another one of these things he will need to get used to.

“Awesome, I’ll look into it, then. I’ll text you the details, alright?” Buck asks and he’s about to reach for his phone in his back-pocket when Eddie finally says those three words.

“I love you.”

Bobby stops stirring the soup and raises his eyes towards Eddie, who seems to have lost all composure.

“I’ll… I’ll let you two talk.” Bobby says. “Buck, you mind keeping an eye on the soup?”

“Uh I- yeah I’ll- I’ll take care of it, Bobby.”

Bobby leaves the kitchen, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder as he goes past him. He locks himself in his office and tries to focus on the most boring part of the job: the paperwork. It only lasts a few minutes, though, his curiosity eventually gets the best of him. From where he’s seated, he can still see Buck, his back facing him. And Bobby is not big on gossip but he’s had to watch these two dance around each other for so long it’s only fair he gets to witness the outcome of three years of unresolved tension, right?

Buck is standing in the kitchen, and from what Bobby can tell, this one hasn’t moved for the past ten minutes, probably focused on what Eddie’s saying or too shocked to say anything. It all changes after a few seconds, though. Buck’s body straightens up but he lowers his head to the ground, and Bobby doesn’t need to be standing next to him to picture the sheepish smile stretching up his lips.

He knows he’s right when Buck raises his eyes again, changing his position in such a way Bobby can now see his face. His eyes are warm, his expression soft and the captain of the 118 finally decides to look away when Eddie appears in his field of vision, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands and pressing their lips together.

A small smile breaks in on his face and he opens the first top left drawer of his desk, his right hand grasping the document that’s been gathering dust for soon to be three years:

Personal relationship disclosure form

#my writing #buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 #911 #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

By My Side (Part 9)

Summary: The reader and Jensen have a relaxing afternoon where they discuss their future with one another...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Please enjoy the final part! I had a lot of fun with this series!

_________

One Month Later

“Hey Mikey,” you called from the hammock you were sharing with Jensen in the backyard. He popped his head up from one of the patio loungers, his head deep in a legal brief. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”

“She’s coming over later for the party,” he said, going back to work.

“Did you clear that with head of security?” asked Jensen.

“Head of security can suck my dick,” said Michael as he flipped a page.

“Suck your own. I set you up on this date you know,” you said.

“Ah, this is what I missed,” said your dad as he sat at the table playing a game of chess against Chuck.

“If you can imagine they were worse as teenagers,” said Chuck, moving a piece. “You were planning to have more, weren’t you?”

“We were discussing it. Y/N kept asking for siblings,” he said. “Glad she found some.”

“They never got on very well until recently,” said Chuck.

“Dysfunctional family is kind of our thing,” said Michael, reviewing another paper. Your mom took a sip of her drink, giving Brian a smile. You saw him go to hold her hand under the table but he hesitated, your mom taking his anyways. She rested her feet over Chuck’s lap and you shook your head.

“They’re so loud,” you mumbled to Jensen. You curled into his chest and he gave your waist a light squeeze.

“They’re alright,” he murmured against your neck. “Wait until you meet my family.”

“God I hope they aren’t crazy like mine,” you said.

“No one’s quite at that level,” he chuckled. “They’re not crazy. Just...odd.”

“Your family or mine?”

“Probably both,” he said. “Want to go for a walk before the party?”

“Sure,” you said. You both rolled out of the hammock and said you’d be back soon, Jensen taking your hand as you walked to the front of the house. A car pulled up at the new gate and you let it in, smiling as you saw Nick and his friend climb out of the car.

“How was the flight?” you asked as he stretched out.

“Good. This is Spencer. Spence, Y/N and her boyfriend bodyguard, Jensen,” said Nick.

“Nice meeting you guys,” he said. “Nick says you’re why Y/N’s dad is back in the picture?”

“Something like that,” said Jensen. “We’re gonna take a quick walk but feel free to show Spencer around the house or take a dip in the pool.”

“We’ll start cooking in about an hour but snack on whatever you like,” you said. You and Jensen gave them a quick wave before you were walking down the street, Doug whistling from his driveway.

“You two kids staying out of trouble?” he asked.

“Only the bad kind,” said Jensen. “See you and the girls at the party in a bit.”

You hummed as you walked, Jensen squeezing your hand when a car went past.

“Your bodyguard rules are a tad conflicting you know,” you said, smiling at him. “Put you between me and a vehicle but if we’re walking on a city street, put myself closer to the street and you closer to alleyways.”

“Not confusing at all. You stay away from the danger,” he said. “I let you slide on some stuff.”

“I have sex with you, Ackles.”

“I know and I wanna keep doing that so I let you slide,” he teased. He bopped your nose and you laughed, slowing down a bit as you hit the quiet stretch of road with lots of trees around. “I was talking to Chuck earlier. He no longer hates me.”

“See? I told you he’d come around.”

“Strong disdain was now in play,” said Jensen. “I still can’t believe I fucked up like that.”

“Well first off, Chuck doesn’t have the high and mighty card to play. His own sons thought for a split second he was capable. Even mom.”

“How’d the family therapy session go this week?” he asked.

“Okay. The boys all cried. Mom and I aren’t gonna go unless they ask us to anymore. Everyone seems okay,” you said.

“Your dad and Chuck are getting along pretty good now,” he said.

“I don’t know what those three are going to do, honestly. She loves them both still.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” said Jensen.

“I disagree with that sentiment. Sometimes you have to choose if love is more important than other things, things that might be just as vital as love. But I don’t agree that loving someone alone isn’t enough,” you said.

“Quite a hopeless romantic you are,” he said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. “Anyone in particular you’re loving these days?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. Your face felt hot, Jensen slowing his walk to almost a crawl.

“I’m not afraid of you running off on me,” he said. “Not after everything.”

“Good cause you’re important to me,” you said.

“That what we’re calling it?” he said, your arm sliding around his back, hand settling on his waist.

“Shut up,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. You snuggled him for a brief moment before you started walking again, Jensen’s hand grazing your cheek.

“You’re important to me too,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” you said. You smiled and you both moved your arms so you could go back to holding hands, Jensen taking his baseball cap off his head and putting it on backwards on your own.

“Can I tell you about what happened to me sometime?” he asked. You turned your head towards him, Jensen shrugging. “You know...the not so great stuff with Hall and all that.”

“Always. I’d never tell a soul,” you said.

“It’s probably not as horrible as whatever you’ve dreamed up in your head,” he said. “But I don’t want you to worry about it anymore. I’m not so scared of you changing your mind about me if you hear it now.”

“I just want to be able to help you the way you’ve helped me,” you said. “That’s what we do.”

“True. I’m still your bodyguard though,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but that’s like an assumed role with you being my boyfriend anyways. I feel like you’ll always be my bodyguard,” you said.

“Always?” he asked. “Always doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“I know,” he said. “A man can dream though.”

“When we met, what was your gut reaction?”

“Within half an hour of meeting you, I wanted to quit. I knew...I knew there was this something that I don’t know what it was, it just really wanted to know you and make sure you stayed safe. I didn’t think I could do both effectively.”

“So we were both a bit mean to hide things.”

“Well, you are kinda a sassy client. You don’t always listen to me like the time you nearly got a concussion,” he said, bumping your shoulder with a laugh.

“Excuse me but I escaped, not you, and I saved your perky little ass,” you said.

“Oh so you did notice it’s perky,” he said. You rolled your eyes but giggled, Jensen kissing your temple again. “Maybe you can be my bodyguard too.”

“That sounds fun,” you said. “I’m not wearing a suit though.”

“You could just wear what I do.”

“One of your shirts?”

“Yeah, just that’s good,” he said, chuckling as you lightly smacked his chest. “To be honest, I hate the suits. I prefer the laid back look.”

“I prefer anything where I get to see more skin,” you said. “But that does bring up a point I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes?”

“If I wanted you to stay on as a bodyguard...for like work and events moreso cause at home I think boyfriend Jensen could handle that job, would you still work for me?” you asked.

“I’d do it for free,” he said. You cocked your head and he shrugged. “I’m serious.”

“Well I’m still gonna pay you. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted something more...exciting,” you said.

“I’m good with quiet. You still have your fair share of crazies out there. Like the stalker guy,” he said, your eyes wide. “I’m joking.”

“Why do I feel like you’re not?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re safe.”

“Never thought I wasn’t,” you said. “Jensen.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to get away this weekend? Somewhere quiet before I start filming my movie next month?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” he said. “After our epic party tonight of course.”

“It’s not gonna be epic,” you said. “It’s like fifty people max.”

“No, it’ll be epic,” he said. “Cause I got you a present you’re gonna love.”

“Tease. What is it?”

“If you must know,” he said as he pulled out his phone. He handed it to you and tapped the screen, scrolling for a minute before he got where he wanted.

“Plane tickets? For tomorrow to the Maldives?” you asked. “How...Jensen you can’t afford this. You have to let me pay for-”

“Oh, honey. I haven’t paid my own rent, utilities, food in a very long time. That plus these hot shot hollywood types and their fancy contracts? I’m better off than you think I am,” he said. “You like, legit saved my life and made me as happy as I’ve ever been and I just want to take my girl on vacation to a place she’s always wanted to go.”

“Fine but only cause I really want to go with you,” you said.

“I knew I’d win you over,” he said.

“You did that a while ago,” you said, a guy walking past on the other side of the street. Jensen took his phone back and glanced over his shoulder once he was gone. “A pap again?”

“Yup,” he said, sending a text off to Jake. “Oh wait. I forgot to do my favorite part.”

He turned around with you and let out a loud whistle, the guy spinning around.

“You do know last guy we caught in the neighborhood we got arrested, right?” called out Jensen. The man paused but kept staring. “I see one photo or your ass around again, we’re gonna have problems.”

“He’s really a sweetheart!” you said. “Probably want to get out of here before we come back around though. He’s a tad protective.”

The man walked a bit faster, Jensen chuckling as you both watched him slip in a car and head for the entrance out of the neighborhood.

“Ah, I love doing that,” he said. “I am a sweetheart, aren’t I.”

“Yes, yes you are,” you said. He squeezed your hand and you looked around, not spotting anything out of the ordinary. “What?”

“That one’s just for me,” he said. He kissed your lips, pulling back with a big smile. You kissed his cheek, breaking off and kissing his lips, cupping his face.

“That one’s for me,” you said.

“Better do it again, just in case,” he said.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Bodyguard.”

_______

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #au #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!jensen #bodyguard!jensen x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

when i’m dreaming--calum hood oneshot

yeah so i’m going through something so this is very, very self-indulgent.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: drinking linked a little with coping, going through a depressive low, best friend!calum

feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

***

Calum notices something is wrong the minute she steps outside. He was about to take a drink of his white claw, but his eyes went to her nails when she pulled Crystal in for a hug. She typically paints them to match her mood and today they’re opalescent pink, barely noticeable but still there. In plain sight but still visible while she secretly wants to be invisible.

She smiles and cracks jokes with everyone she says hello to then when she steps in front of Calum, he sees the sadness in her eyes. They’ve been best friends for awhile now, they’ve shared secrets, stories of first loves and heartaches, their fears, their wildest dreams. But there was always something she kept hidden, tucked away in a box welded shut.

“Hey bud,” she sighs.

“Hey short stuff,” he grins playfully pulling her in for a hug. Her arms wrap around him and he makes sure to give her an extra tight squeeze.

“I’m not that short,” she grumbles in his chest.

“You’re shorter than me,” he reminds rubbing her shoulder with his thumb. Although her arms are loose around him he can feel the tension in her shoulders that she’s carrying.

“Stop hogging her! I haven’t seen her in weeks!” Ashton exclaims and Calum pulls away.

He knows it was too soon to break the hug but to keep up with her own façade he doubts anyone else sees, he does it.

“Hey, you’re the one who disappeared into the desert for all those weeks,” she jokes rising on her toes to loop her arms around Ashton’s neck.

He gives her a big bear hug that lifts her a few inches off the ground, Calum sees her nails digging into her arm as she squeezes him.

“Had to recenter myself, you should try it sometime,” Ashton teases right back. As if she was shocked, she removes herself from the hug then accepts a bottle of Mike’s from Luke.

“I can take something stronger than this, Hemmings,” she takes a large chug regardless.

“Yeah? Like tequila? I got some limes,” he jerks his thumb behind him towards the drink table.

“I said stronger not deadly. You know I can’t handle tequila,” she scrunches her nose.

Everyone else laughs but alarms are going off in Calum’s head.

“Yeah, the floor of my Tesla doesn’t like tequila either,” Michael chimes in with a tray of shots.

“I told you to pull over,” she shrugs lifting up a shot. She takes a whiff and nods in approval at his selected alcohol choice.

“I was going 75 on the freeway!”

“And that’s why I threw up. Ready?” she lifts her glass.

Calum meets her eyes as over the hands of their friends as Ashton gives an impromptu speech about friendship and long rides. He wasn’t really paying attention because when their eyes locked, he saw the panic, he saw the fear of whatever was going on in her head.

The next time he sees her is at the movies. Her eyes are darker along with her nails that are now a hunter’s green; camouflaged but still visible. While they’re waiting in line for snacks, he lifts her hand in his and runs his thumb over the color.

“This is a pretty color, I’ve never seen it on you before,” he says.

“Yeah, um…wanted to try something different,” she shrugs. “Do you want the blue icee?”

“Is that even a question?” he raises a brow, and she laughs.

Once they’re settled in the seats the previews start. Calum opens up the bags of sweet and sour treats while she opens the boxes of milk duds. The large bowl of popcorn (with extra butter) is settled between them, long red straws sticking out of their frozen drinks.

Throughout the whole movie, it’s an action romantic comedy, Calum keeps glancing at her. He watches her fingers disappear in the popcorn bowl, her hunter’s green nails appearing black in the dark theater. Calum’s seen enough movies to know this moment is foreshadowing the darkness she’s slipping into. He’s preparing himself for the fall but he’s not entirely sure she is.

Two weeks have gone by and he hasn’t seen her since the movie. Their schedules didn’t align so he decided to surprise her with takeout from her favorite Asian restaurant and chocolate cake from her favorite bakery.

When he opens the door, he hears Friends playing on her tv and he finds her horizontal on the couch. The hood of her sweatshirt is over her head, her arms wrapped around her torso, her black nails clutching the fabric.

Calum braces himself for what he’s walking into, sets the food on her counter and crouches in front of her. He pulls her hoodie back a little so he can see her face a bit better, her eyes are distant and staring off behind him.

“Hey,” he says softly then touches her hand. It’s very cold. “Y/N.”

Upon hearing her name does she finally look at him. Her eyes have filled and spilled with her tears in a matter of seconds. He links her fingers through his.

“Hi,” she mouths, her voice barely registering.

“Is this about…him?” he asks delicately.

About a year ago he chipped away at the welding on the box. He knows it involves a guy. He knows it’s about bad timing. He knows it’s about deep emotions.

She nods and the tears erupt more. She buries her face in her hands then adds another layer by hiding in the pillow.

“Nope, nope, hey,” he tugs on her arms. She’s pliant and allows him to drag her in a sitting position. He takes the place where her head was then brings her onto his lap. “I’ve got you, I’m right here.” He murmurs and pulls her hoodie down so he can rub at her hair.

She sobs loudly into his neck. Calum holds her as tight as he can, murmuring comforting words in her ear. Her sobs would subside, but he wouldn’t let go until she did. She’s very good at keeping her emotions at bay and even better at keeping people further away from her harbor. She doesn’t ask for help often, she doesn’t open up too much and when she does it’s always the footnoted version.

Three episodes of Friends later, her hold lessens, she gives a big sniff and peels herself away from Calum. He uses the sleeves of his shirt to wipe at her tears and nose.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, and she shakes her head. “I brought food. I’ll heat it up for you.”

She nods and falls back onto the couch. He rubs her knee then heads into the kitchen. When the food is prepared on plates he brings it to her and she takes it, scarfing down the first few bites heartily.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she finally speaks when her plate is empty.

“I know,” he nods looking over at her until she meets his brown eyes. “It’s okay.”

Calum ends up staying the night, his mind reeling from what the history is with this mystery guy. His thoughts get away from him as he stares at the ceiling above the couch. Was he some celebrity that kept her under the radar and broke her heart repeatedly? A Prince from some far-off country that got her hopes up and crushed them again and again?

He’s tossing and turning until he hears the shower turn on. Sad songs play over and over on her speakers, her voice singing along with the yearning words. Ghostin’ by Ariana and When the Party’s Over by Billie replay one after another.

She’s really hurting.

Calum bounds off the couch and opens the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” he makes sure his voice is a little louder than the music.

A sniff. “Yeah?” her voice is thick.

“Just want you to know I’m here,” he shuts the door and sits next to the shower.

His heart aches when he hears her crying again, the vocals echo and bounce off the tiles. Her sadness fills the room just as it’s filled in the hidden box of the guy who’s making her feel this way.

Four more repeats go by and the shower is finally shut off. Calum scrambles off the floor, sees her tug the towel from the door of the shower. Her shadow figure wraps it around herself and she opens the door. Her skin is red from the hot water, as are her eyes and cheeks from crying more tears. He grabs another towel and helps dry her hair while she stands there avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

“It’s been five years, why do I still feel like this?” she asks quietly.

“It hurts the most when it meant something.”

He left the bathroom after he dried and brushed her hair then waited for her in her bedroom. There’s pictures on her desk from high school. Her and some guy at prom. Her and the same guy a little bit older posing in a selfie on a couch, drunken smiles on their faces. Her and the same guy a little older again posed outside.

This must be from that box. She’s cracked it open and Calum is staring at some of the pieces that have broken her wholly.

“His name’s Henry,” she explains suddenly behind him.

Calum turns to her voice. The drastic change from the happy girl in the photos to the sad girl before him startles him. He remains silent to let her speak or to go into silence again. She moves onto her bed, sitting in the center and tucks her legs against her chest.

“We never dated. But we were always…together. Together in the physical sense for four years,” she continues. Calum joins her cautiously on the bed and listens. “Back and forth always. After every relationship we fell back into each other. He’s the longest relationship I’ve had, and it wasn’t even a real one.

“We cared about each other, and…I think he loved me. Time wasn’t on our side. It was too much or too little, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Just when I think I’ve let go; I dream of him. Then he’s on my mind for days. And now this time…” she shakes her head and Calum pulls her against him. “I went on socials and I found out that he um…he’s a dad now. And I feel so stupid because that could have been me if we kept what we had. I feel stupid because a part of me wanted it to be me.”

Calum doesn’t fully understand the ins and outs of their relationship, but four years of physical affection and a rock to lean on, that’s a lot of history. He also doesn’t fully understand how this guy didn’t make it official with Y/N. She’s the perfect best friend with a big heart.

Calum wishes he knew her in school because he would have been the one to take her to prom. He would have been the one take her to movies and dinners and surprise her with flowers. He would have made it official rather than keep her guessing.

“I’m really going through it and I don’t know how to get out,” she whispers sadly.

“I think…” Calum heaves a big sigh and kisses her wet head. “I think you’re just cracking the surface of breaking free. I can tell he meant a lot to you and you meant a lot to him. Even if he never said it, you’ll always be a part of him just like he’ll be a part of you. Someone that important won’t just poof away.”

“But I want him to, it hurts.”

“I know it does, sweetheart. I’ll help you in any way I can, okay?”

“You’re so understanding and you’re so good, but I don’t want to cry over another guy when you’re here.”

“That’s what best friends do.”

She turns her head and gazes up at him. He notices the storm in her eyes aren’t as dark, her lips are chapped from the cracking of memories she spilled out.

“Calum, you’re more than my best friend.”

He hears a deeper truth in her statement, and it causes his breathing to quicken. The subtle yet very noticeable flick of her eyes to his lips causes him to react. He gives her a quick peck, but that smallest touch sent an enormous shock through his system.

They settle against her pillows, the kiss wasn’t awkward, but it filled them both with questions. Questions that will be answered at a different time because right now he wants to hear this most vulnerable part of her life. She takes his hand in hers first and plays with his fingers while she talks.

He makes comments and asks questions to try and understand a bit more. Calum kisses her head when her voice starts to shake. Hours go by and the sky starts to lighten, birds are awakening.

“Hey,” she says right as he’s about to fall asleep. They talked all night, but she quieted down about twenty minutes.

“Hm?” he opens his eyes.

“We match.”

He looks down at their intertwined fingers when she taps on his nail. His polish is chipped away from chewing on a hangnail then smiles at the black color. He lifts their hands and kisses their knuckles.

“I feel what you feel.”

“What exactly do you feel?”

“I felt you slipping. I can sense your emotions when no one else can, and I guess I painted my nails subconsciously because I didn’t want you to be alone in the dark,” he explains. She’s quiet for a moment and he thinks she really fell asleep this time.

“Thank you. I don’t think I’ll be this bad again.”

“If you are, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”

“Cal?”

“Hmm?” he sighs. It’s getting harder to keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t want her to stop talking. He doesn’t want her out of his arms.

“When I’m dreaming tonight it will be of you.”

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash @loveroflrh @cxddlyash @princesslrh @spicylftv @notinthesameguey @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @thatscooibaby @suchalonelysunflower @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton @calpops @littledrummeraussie @sexgodashton @f-mu

#best friend!cal #calum hood oneshot #calum hood angst #calum fluff #calum hood fluff #calum 5sos writing #calum 5sos #5sos writing #calum hood 5sos #calum fic #calum hood fic

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the End

Summary: Y/N Winchester was a hunter like her brothers, following in their fathers footsteps. Saving people, hunting things, the family business.

During a case in Georgia, you meet the Dixon brothers and after saving Daryl's life against a Chupacabra, the two of you become close. But, when the zombie apocalypse starts, life as you know it changes forever.

FANFIC TRAILER

Basically a Supernatural/The Walking Dead crossover fic where Chuck starts the zombie apocalypse in S14E20 'Welcome to The End'

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Winchester!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Language, minor descriptions of blood

A/N- Well here it is. I've been writing and planning this for well over a year and it's finally ready.

The first half of this chapter is slow because it's basically just background info, but I promise it gets better.

This fic basically picks up straight into Season 14 Episode 20 of SPN when Chuck gives the boys the 'Equaliser' handgun to kill Jack.

Chapter 1- Prologue

Your father was a hunter. Your mother was an angel. They were from two worlds that were never meant to meet. They made you what you are today. A daughter of an angel. A born hunter. A Nephilim. But, most importantly; a Winchester.

You were only two years younger than your brother, Sam, but despite your powers your older brothers were extremely protective over you and you were protective over them. If anyone so much as laid a finger on either of them, they'd have hell to pay.

You never knew about your powers when you were younger. You never even knew you were a Nephilim or that they even existed and you never knew who your mother was. The only thing you did know about her was her name; Lucille.

Your Dad used to say your mother was just some woman he hooked up with one day. She got pregnant and he got left with the baby, but there was so much more to the story that he never told you.

Your mother was an angel.

Your Dad did hook up with her, that part was true. However, it wasn't just a one night stand, John Winchester fell in love with her, but Lucille ended it.

She told him who she really was and said that she couldn't stay because it was too dangerous for him and his two sons. So, Lucille left. Until one day she showed up on his doorstep covered in blood and bruises with a baby in her arms. She gave him the baby saying the name 'Y/N' before she disappeared and he never heard or saw her ever again.

You grew up as a hunter, following in your fathers footsteps beside your eldest brother, Dean. Although, Sam didn't like the hunter life, the three of you came together when your Dad went missing and life as you knew it changed within just a few short months.

Before John died he told you who your true mother was, and told you what you were, but you refused to believe it. It was impossible, angels didn't exist. But, then you met Castiel and your whole world changed. Over the years Cas helped you with your powers, taught you how to use them and how to control them.

Sam and Dean were shocked to say the least, but were always there and supportive while you were trying to figure everything out. Despite being part angel, nothing really changed. You went on hunts with your brothers and your powers were just an added bonus that helped you take down whatever supernatural creature you were facing.

Then years later, the whole thing with Jack Kline happened. Then the archangel Michael, and then Jack lost his soul... and then he killed Mary Winchester and that drew the line.

Mary wasn't your biological mother, but when she got bought back she became like the mother you never had. It was a bit rocky at first especially between her and Dean when she first came back, but things were just starting to get better, it starting to feel like a proper family and within a second it was all over.

Then, because things weren't already fucked up and complicated enough Chuck finally showed up.

He gave you a weapon that was powerful enough to kill Jack. It looked like just your average silver desert eagle handgun, but apparently it could kill anything, except it had a catch. What happened to the person you shoot at also happened to you, so in other words; you die.

After talking about it between Dean, Sam, Cas and Chuck it was clear everyone was on different pages. Cas wanted to save Jack, Dean wanted to kill Jack while you and Sam were sort of sitting in the middle unsure of what to do, but deep down you knew it had to be done. You couldn't risk the fate of the world, like Chuck had said, Jack was dangerous and could easily destroy the world if he wanted to.

"Sam, you know what needs to happen." You said breaking the silence.

You looked over at your brother who was sitting on the other side of the war table, shaking his head.

Cas had stormed off after an argument with Dean and Dean had walked out the room shortly after. Chuck had disappeared again which left you and Sam sitting at the table in total confusion.

"Don't you start too." Sam sighed looking over at you in disbelief and you just shrugged your shoulders.

"Just thinking logically here, bro. But, we should probably go talk to Dean. I don't like how he walked off and took that gun with him." You stated causing Sam's eyes to quickly dart down to the table not realising Dean had taken it.

In an instant, Sam was on his feet and you followed him down the hallway to Deans bedroom.

"Dean?" You called out, knocking on his door that was already slightly open.

"Yeah?"

You took that as your cue to open the door, but all you could see was his empty bed before you heard the soft clinking of a glass bottle coming from behind the door.

"Over here." Dean called out as you turned around to find him sitting at the small table that was located behind the door.

You eyed the bottle of Jack Daniels that was he currently pouring into a flask, but decided not to ask.

"Glad you guys are here. I actually need to talk to you about something. Um... have a seat." Dean said motioning towards his bed.

You shared a quick glance at Sam before you both sat down on the edge of his bed and looked over at your older brother.

"What's going, bro?" You asked, trying to keep your tone calm although you already knew where this conversation was going and like hell were you going to let Dean be the one to pull the trigger on the suicidal gun.

"You know what I'm gonna say." Dean responded, leaning back in his chair.

"Let me guess. This is where you tell us that you're gonna pull the trigger?" Sam asked, but it was clear he already knew the answer.

"Yeah, it is. We don't have a choice, Sam." Dean said, his eyes glancing between the two of you.

"Of course we do. Don't we always? I mean, isn't that the point of everything we've ever done, that we always have a choice?" Sam questioned and you could tell he was trying to keep his voice under control, but you could hear the emotion behind it.

"He killed our mom." Dean said in defeat.

"I get it. I was mad too. Or you know what? Hell, I'm still mad. And a part of me still wants Jack dead, it really does. But Dean, we haven't even tried to save him-" Sam began to say before he was cut off.

"Save- Okay. You heard him, right? He actually blamed mom for what happened." Dean argued.

"He doesn't have a soul!" Sam exclaimed using his hands to try made a point causing Dean to shake his head.

"And who's fault is that?" He asked and you couldn't sit back and listen to this any longer.

"Ours. He burnt off his soul for us. You, me, Sam and Cas. Us. Now, I don't like this idea, the kid is family, but Dean’s right. We don't have a choice." You explained, looking between your two brothers as Dean nodded in agreement, but Sam looked ready to argue and you held your hand up to silence him.

"Don't. Now one of us has to pull that trigger and it's gonna be me." You declared causing Dean to suddenly sit up straight in his chair as he stared at you like you had gone crazy.

"No!" They both shouted in sync causing you to roll your eyes. How many times have you heard them say that to you over the years?

"It's not up for discussion. Jack is a Nephilim, a son of Lucifer and a lot more powerful than me, but I'm still a Nephilim too and heal quickly. If anyone can survive pulling the trigger it's me." You tried to explain, but you might as well be talking to a brick wall because neither of them were listening.

"Like hell we're letting you risk that. That's not happening, ever." Dean stated sternly, his eyes narrowing in your direction and you sighed.

"Dean-" You began to say before Sam spoke up.

"No. Neither of you are doing it. You guys want me to say that I'm cool with losing Jack and one of you all at once? Because I can't do that. I won't do that... I... No. We've already lost too much." Sam responded, wiping the tears from his eyes before he stood up and walked out the room, not giving you or Dean a chance to say anything further.

You glanced over Dean who shook his head and picked up a glass of whiskey tipping it back in one shot. You sighed and fell backwards until your back hit his mattress as you stared up at the ceiling.

"I miss the days where the only things we had to worry about were cases about Wendigos or hell, even just ordinary demons." You commented a few moments later causing Dean to chuckle from the table.

"Me too, sis. Me too." He sighed as you sat yourself back up and looked over at him.

"We'll figure something out. I'll go talk to Sam." You said and Dean nodded as you stood up and began to walking out, patting him on the shoulder before you closed the door behind you.

You slowly made your way back to the main room of the bunker, going via your bedroom to put a flannel on over your tank top.

"You're scared of him." Sam's voice spoke up from the main room of the bunker causing you to freeze where you stood in the hallway as you tried to figure out who he was talking to. Was Cas back?

"Aren't you?" Chucks voice responded. Great, he was back. Maybe he might be useful for once.

"Do you know where Jack is?" You asked, walking into the room, spotting the two of them standing on the other side of the war table.

"Yes."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Sam questioned in confusion, focusing back on Chuck.

"Oh, nothing. Dean's already gone." He informed causing Sam's eyes to snap over at you in panic.

Without a second thought you quickly used your powers and teleported into Deans room, but it was empty. Son of a bitch. .

"He's not in his room. Where the hell is Jack?" You questioned angrily as you teleported back into the main room.

Your eyes started to glow bright purple as you marched towards Chuck before Sam quickly grabbed your shoulders to stop you from doing something stupid.

"The cemetery." Chuck answered before he vanished into thin air.

Shit, you've never been to this towns cemetery before which meant you couldn't teleport there. Stupid fucking teleportation limits. The one damn cemetery you hadn't visited before, typical.

"My car, now." You instructed as you and Sam sprinted out the room to the garage and you jumped into the drivers seat, slamming the gear stick into reverse.

The drive across town felt like it would never end, but eventually you reached the cemetery. You had driven way to fast to be even considered dangerous driving, but neither of you cared as you pulled in and parked beside the Impala before hurriedly climbing out.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, spotting your brother first as he began to run off.

You quickly turned in his direction to find Dean standing in the middle of the cemetery. He had the gun raised at Jack who was sitting on his knees in front of him. Shit.

"Dean!" You shouted, quickly teleporting closer, landing only a few metres away. "Dean." You said again, your voice now softer as you glanced down at Jack who was just staring up at Dean waiting for him to pull the trigger.

"I understand. I know what I have done." Jack said calmly.

The kid glanced over at you for a second and gave you a small smile before he looked back towards Dean while Sam was still running across the cemetery, trying to catch up.

"Stay back, Y/N. You too, Sam." Dean instructed and you glanced over your shoulder to find Sam only a few metres behind you now, but he stopped, listening to his brother's warning.

"You were right, all along. I am a monster." Jack said, but you shook your head.

Shit, you might have agreed that this was the only choice, but you didn't want him to die. You didn't want Jack to die, he was just a kid.

"Dean, please don't." You whispered watching as he pushed the hammer down with his thumb, loading the gun.

For a moment you thought about using your powers on Dean, to stop him, but you quickly shook that idea. You refused to use your powers on your family unless it was to heal them. You nearly killed Sam once when you were still learning how to control your powers and you hadn't so much as thought about using them on someone you cared about ever again.

Dean hovered his finger over the trigger, the gun still raised to Jacks head. But, but not a second later he lowered the gun and you let out a shaky breath that you didn't even realise that you were holding in.

Sudden movement caught your eye and you looked up spotting Cas standing himself up and walking over to you. You frowned wondering what happened to him as Dean tossed the gun to the ground.

"No! Pick it up." Chucks voice shouted causing you to jump slightly as you turned around to find him now standing next to Sam.

Chuck really needed a damn bell on him or something.

"This isn't how the story is supposed to end." Chuck stated walking over to you and Dean as he glanced down at Jack.

"The story?" Cas questioned in confusion as he helped Jack to his feet.

"Look at it. The gathering storm, the gun, the father killing his own son. This is Abraham and Isaac. This is epic." Chuck explained motioning towards Dean and Jack causing you to shake your head in confusion as you tried to figure out what the hell that all meant.

"Wait, what are you saying?" Dean asked, but before Chuck could answer Sam did.

"He's saying, he's been playing us. This whole time. Our entire lives. Mom... Dad... Everything. This is all you because you wrote it all, right? Because... Because what? We're your favourite show? Because we're a part of your story?" Sam questioned and you looked back towards Chuck in absolute shock.

He had been playing you, right from the start. From the moment you were born and handed to your birth father after your mother disappeared. Did he make your mother come to earth to meet John? Did he make her leave? What even happened to your mother? Was she still alive? Did he make John die just because he thought it was fucking funny?!

"Okay, Dean, no offence, but your brother is stupid and crazy. And that kid is still dangerous. So, pick up the gun. Pick it up and pull the trigger... and I'll bring her back. Your mom." Chuck negotiated and your jaw dropped. Was he seriously going to bring Mary into this?

Dean glanced over at Sam and Cas before looking towards you like he was at a loss for what do before he looked back at Chuck and shook his head.

"No." He answered, taking a few steps back until he was standing beside Sam. "My mom is my hero and I miss her. I will miss her every second of my life, but she would not want this."

"It's not like you even really care. The apocalypse, the first go-around, with Lucifer and Michael. You knew everything that was going on, so why the games, Chuck? Why didn't you snap your fingers and end it?!" You shouted, your eyes flashing bright purple as you stared at him.

"Look I-" Chuck began to say before Sam cut him off.

"And every other bad thing we've been killing, been dying over. Where were you? Just sitting back and watching us suffer, so we can do this over and over and over again. Fighting, losing people we love? When does it end? Tell me!" Sam shouted, but Chuck just completely ignored him as he looked over at your other brother.

"Dean, don't do this-" Chuck tried to say.

"We're done talking. Because this... this isn't just a story. It's our lives! So God or no God, you go to hell." Dean yelled pointing towards Chuck causing him to chuckle in disbelief.

"Have it your way." Chuck responded as he raised his hand, clicking his fingers causing Jack to suddenly scream.

You quickly looked over at kid in horror as bright light burst through his eyes and mouth like he had just been stabbed with an angel blade, but he didn't. Chuck was killing him.

"Jack!" You shouted, watching as he fell to the floor still screaming in pain and you quickly dropped to your knees beside him, Cas right there with you. But, there was nothing either of you could do.

"Stop it. Stop it!" Dean and Sam both yelled and you glanced over your shoulder just in time to watch Chuck throw Dean and Sam across the cemetery as their bodies slammed into a couple gravestones before they landed on the ground.

You glanced down at Jack and that's when you spotted the handgun just lying on the ground a few metres away where Dean had tossed it.

Without any further thought you held your hand out, using your powers as the gun flew into your hand. You caught it easily, noting that it was still loaded before you turned towards Chuck, who was standing a few metres away looking at your brother's.

"Hey, Chuck!" You shouted, catching his attention as he began to turn around and you quickly squeezed the trigger.

Sudden pain burst through your shoulder as you watched the bullet pierce through Chucks left shoulder. The force of the hit sent you flying back a few feet, landing on the ground and you weren't to able to stop the small cry of pain from escaping your lips.

You glanced down spotting a bullet wound in your left shoulder and it wasn't like you hadn't been shot before, but this one hurt a hell of a lot worse.

"Fine! That's the way you want it? Alright, you'll be seeing your father soon!" Chuck yelled, drawing your attention back to him to find him still standing there with a bullet wound through the same shoulder.

"Story's over. Welcome to the end." He declared as he snapped his fingers and he suddenly disappeared, but nothing else happened. What the hell? Was something meant to happen? It sure as hell felt like something dramatic was meant to happen.

"Hey, hey, you okay? Y/N?" Dean's voice shouted bringing you out of your thoughts as him and Sam crouched down in front of you with panicked eyes.

"Yeah, I'm good." You winced as you touched the bullet wound.

You expected it to be healed up already, but as you pulled your fingers away they were laced with blood causing you to frown.

Your brother's helped you to your feet, seeming worried that the bullet wound hasn't healed yet, but you ignored them as you rushed over to Jack.

His lifelessly body was just lying on the ground as Cas knelt down beside him. No. No. No. He couldn't be dead. Not Jack, not like this. This couldn't be happening. None of this could be happening. You had to be dreaming, no if you were dreaming then your shoulder wouldn't be hurting. Fuck.

"Wait, I thought Chuck said the gun was the only thing that could..." Dean trailed off as you tried to force the tears in your eyes to go away. He was dead. Jack was gone.

"He's a writer. Writers lie." Cas responded and you knew he was fighting back tears as well.

You dropped to your knees beside him unable to stop the tears falling down your cheeks as you covered your mouth with your hands to try a muffle your sobs.

Cas' hand gently grabbed your shoulder for comfort and that was all it took before you broke down. Cas quickly wrapped his arm over your shoulders and pulled you into his side as you cried into him.

Your brothers dropped to the ground behind you, you could hear Sam's sharp breaths as he struggled to hold himself together and you were pretty sure Dean was in the same boat.

None of you said anything for nearly 10 minutes as you sat there and stared at Jack's dead body. His eyes burnt out from whatever Chuck had done to him before Sam and Dean carried his body back to the Impala announcing that he deserved a hunters funeral.

Sam and Cas drove your car back to the bunker to collect a few of Jacks things and supplies while you and Dean drove out to the woods. He parked near a creek which was where him and Jack had gone fishing together and figured it was a good place to do it.

You remembered how happy the kid was when him and Dean had came home that day. He wouldn't shut about the fishing trip for the whole week and you knew Dean loved it too, but he'd never admit it.

"I'm gonna go get some smaller sticks by the creek." You called out, your voice hoarse from all the crying and Dean just nodded.

You teleported over to the creek, but the second you did your legs instantly buckled from underneath you as searing pain erupted through your head.

You could feel blood starting to drip from your nose as you grabbed your head, squeezing your eyes shut at the pain. It was like someone was hammering a thousand nails into your skull at the same time and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

"Y/N?!" Dean's voice shouted in the background somewhere, but you could barely hear it through the blood rushing in your ears.

What the hell was happening? You could always teleport and never be affected like this.

"Hey, hey, talk to me. What's happening? Y/N?" Dean questioned in panic.

You just shook your head unable to get words out your mouth as you kept your eyes closed and hands over your head, hoping it would try to lessen the pain.

"Sam, get here now. Something's happening to Y/N- Fucked if I know, she teleported and now she's in pain, I think it's her head and her nose it bleeding- I don't know! -Okay, just get here." Dean shouted into his phone, but you couldn't hear him.

What felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, the pain eventually reduced into a dull ache and you slowly opened your eyes to find your brother sitting right in front of you with worried eyes.

"I-I'm okay." You whispered breathlessly as you wiped the blood from your nose, but Deans face hardened as he shook his head.

"What just happened?" He asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know. It's my powers. I can't heal myself and when I tried earlier I got a dull ache in my head, but after teleporting it felt like my head was going to explode. Hang on, let me try something." You said as you shakily stood yourself up.

You held your hands out and tried to move a stone from the ground with your powers, but the second the stone started to rise the sharp pain spiked through your head and you quickly lowered your hands.

"It's my powers. Fuck, this has to be Chuck. Whatever he did when he snapped his fingers, this must be part of it." You groaned, rubbing the side of your head.

Dean looked at you hopelessly, not knowing what to say or what to do because what the hell were you meant to do? Your powers were screwed, Jack was dead, everything was falling apart.

By the time Sam and Cas came back, you and Dean had cut most of the wooden logs and the four of you neatly stacked them up around Jack's body.

Sam and Cas had asked what was wrong with you earlier and you explained what happened hoping Cas might have an answer, but he didn't. He didn't know why your powers were having side effects.

After you burned Jack and gave him a send-off that he deserved, you all went back to bunker. The wound on your shoulder wasn't showing any signs of healing on it's own. Cas had tried to heal it too, but for some reason he couldn't.

So, Sam stitched it up and bandaged it, saying to just keep an eye on it and make sure it didn't get worse. But, that was the furthest thing on your mind right now as the four of you all sat down around the war table.

"What the hell did Chuck mean? He said 'story's over, welcome to the end', what the hell does that mean?" Dean questioned, unable to hide the anger in his tone as he glanced around the table hoping one of you knew the answer.

"Maybe he was bluffing." Sam answered, although it was clear he didn't believe a word he just said. Chuck never bluffed. Whenever he did something, it was always go big or go home.

"Something's going to happen... or somethings already happened, I can feel it. Best guess is another apocalypse or maybe the ground will just open up and swallow everyone whole. I don't know, but something big is going to happen." You insisted.

"She's right, I can feel it too. I fear whatever Chuck had in mind, has already begun." Cas spoke up and you nodded in agreement causing Dean to sigh, rubbing his face with his hands.

"We should call everyone. Warn them that something is going to happen." Sam suggested and you all began pulling your phones out. "I'll call Donna and Jodie." He said, standing up from the table as he began to dial their numbers and walk out the room.

"I'll call Bobby, Charlie and Rick." Dean stated, following his brothers lead as he stood up, patting your good shoulder gently before he wandered off to his bedroom.

"Cas, can you give me a moment." You said, holding up your phone and he nodded, giving you a sad smile before he walked out the room to give you some privacy.

You unlocked your phone and scrolled through the contacts until you came across the familiar name.

Daryl Dixon.

You stared at his name for a few seconds before you took a deep breath and pressed the green call button.

MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

Tag Lists- I will reblog with my tag lists, so if you wanted to be added to just let me know.

A/N- Well, there’s the first chapter. I am very nervous about this fic, it’s my first ever crossover and it’s my first time writing for SPN, so I really want to get it right.

Now, I know this chapter was a little slow, but like I said above it needed to be more background info before we get into the apocalypse and start meeting TWD characters.

Throughout the next few chapters there will be some flashback scenes which will explain how Y/N and Daryl know each other, also if you’re wondering why Dean said he would call ‘Bobby, Charlie and Rick’ it’ll be explained later how the Winchesters know Rick Grimes so don’t worry.

Anyway, that’s enough rambling from me. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I would love to hear your thoughts about it below and the next chapter will be up next week, so stay tuned. But, until next time, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx

#Daryl Dixon x Reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #Dean Winchester fanfic #Sam Winchester #sam winchester fanfic #castiel #destiel #john winchester

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murderousginger · 3 years

Text

Standing in the Ashes

Angel on Fire part 2

John Shelby x reader

Word count: 3,214

Warnings: They're criminals, guys, they do bad things.

You fell into a comfortable silence next to John. His presence was an anchor in the crowded room and it annoyed you to realize it. You sipped your second drink, knowing that you wanted to stay a steady tipsy rather than belligerent. In all honesty, you would have preferred not to drink at all but choosing not to drink caused too many questions. Your nerves could not take it today.

John sat beside you, you both watching the other from the corner of your eye until you had Harry top off your glass. You looked over to John and tilted your head as you raised your glass.

"Been a pleasure," you said as he took a drink from his glass. "But I do believe I have some men to bait and your brother and Isaiah to entertain."

"I doubt there'd be an argument if you stayed sat with me."

You faltered, mouth open as the words swam in your head.

"You're kind, but the silence can't be that entertaining," you stammered. "I'm sure you have business or a missus to get back to. Finn talks about his wild nieces and nephew."

John's eyes softened and he tilted his glass in his hand, watching the whiskey roll about.

"Martha," he said loud enough to carry but only that, "she passed years ago. It's just me, the maid and my children."

"Oh," you dropped your eyes, "I'm sorry."

You weighed in your mind what to say next when his sad eyes flickered and he smiled.

"You can do what you want, (Y/N), I won't stop you," he said as he leaned back. "But my life is fuckin' screaming and chaos, so don't think I can't appreciate two people sitting in comfortable quiet."

You nodded as your lip curled up in a half smile. You gathered your drink, John offering you a quick nod before you disappeared into the fray.

The next hour or two you nursed your drink as you flirted and brought men to the boys, dropping them at the table for a transaction like a dog with a dove. When you sent about a half dozen to Isaiah's friendly and knowing smile, you decided you had done enough and took your seat back at the table.

"Decided to take the night off to snog Michael?" You shot at your friend, who hadn't moved from under Michael's arm all night.

"Don't be jealous, (Y/N)," Isaiah said loudly as he wrapped his arm around you before he pushed his nose through your hair to your ear. "You know they'll tire of each other in a week. Give it time."

You hated getting testy with her but she did this every time. She'd find a boy -- this time none other than Michael Gray -- and she'd lose herself and your friendship as she batted her eyelashes. And a few weeks later when she became bored or he did, she'd come back and be your best friend again. You'd grown frustrated with the cycle. Was she really a best friend if she forgot you so easily?

Just another reason the night scene made you so tired. As much as you adored Isaiah and Finn, none of them were around until the sun went down. No one visited or asked to spend your lunch with you. You only ever saw them under the promise of whiskey and snow and you had grown bored of both.

"Everyone that's not a Shelby or fucking a Shelby, get out of my bar!" Harry bellowed as he whipped a towel above his head to get everyone's attention. "That includes the young Peakys in the corner!"

"Harry I'm a fuckin' Shelby!" Finn yelled back with a laugh, his arms wide.

"When you get hair on your balls, you can stay like your brothers. Til then, out!"

The boys booed as they laughed and finished their drinks, slamming the glasses on the table. You froze as you felt hands wrap around the back of your chair and warm arms touch your back.

"You lot not ready to pack it in?" The familiar voice said behind you. "Tell you what, if you can talk Harry out of a bottle, you can use my kitchen to wind down. Play a round of cards, drink, whatever."

Finn squinted up at his brother from your side as you fought yourself from doing the same. You felt heated with him so close to you. Agitated by his nonchalance at pushing himself into your space.

"You've never offered before," Finn said. "Why now?"

You felt his arms move up against your back as you circled the rim of your glass with your finger.

"Kids are a bit older and your ruckus won't wake them anymore," John said as he leaned down around you to come face to face with his brother. "Pretty sure you could bomb the house and they wouldn't stir. But if you'd rather go sit on a bridge in the cold…"

"A bridge," your friend said as she crinkled her nose at the very thought and leaned further into Michael and whined. "It's so cold out, Michael."

"Then it's settled," Isaiah grinned. "We'll head over to your place, John. Thank you."

"What about you, (Y/N)?" John said, his breath hitting the top of your head. "You haven't said a word."

You shifted in your seat as everyone eyed you. You could still feel John's breath in your hair.

"I do have to work in the morning," you started, earning a groan around the table. "But I suppose I can go for a little bit. I really should be home before dawn, though."

"Relax," Isaiah said as he bumped your shoulder with his and winked. "I'll take you home when you're ready. Get you all tucked in proper for that job of yours in the morning."

You snorted a laugh as you rolled your eyes at him.

"Right," John cleared his throat as he let go of your chair. "I'll see you lot soon, then."

You felt the pressure leave and it made you feel a little colder.

----

You all sat around a small table, passing the bottle around as the boys played some sort of card game. Everyone was too drunk or tired for actual rules, so the game kept changing as it went.

John's kitchen was nice enough. It was mostly clean and had little remnants of the children, a colored wall here, a high chair there. It felt honey with it's white washed walls and cozy atmosphere. You were all just able to fit, a small walkway around the table to be able to access the rest of the house.

John had immediately left once you were all situated, telling Finn to lock up when you were all done. You would be lying if you said you weren't a bit disappointed. Conversation with John was at least tolerable. You settled in, realizing you'd be subjected to more bravado, yelling, and stories of conquest rather than a decent conversation and actual thought.

The boys had drunk about half of the bottle when the room was a loud roar. Finn and Isaiah kept knocking into you, teasing and taunting, as Michael and your friend got closer and closer into their own world across the table. The loud noises and the constant knocking about had set your teeth on edge. You needed away. You stood up and shot a look at your friend.

"I need to use the bathroom," you said pointedly as she tucked into Michael's side.

"So go, then," Michael chortled. "You need an escort?"

You glared at him before looking back at your friend, who wouldn't meet your eye. You sighed.

"Some friend you are," you mumbled as you rolled your eyes and left to go find the bathroom.

It wasn't as hard as you had thought, thankfully. Bedroom doors were closed for the night and the house was covered in toys but otherwise easily figured out.

You went into the bathroom and flicked on a light, looking at your tired eyes in the mirror. No one else seemed to notice the bags under your eyes as of late. To you they shone so clearly, but no one mentioned them once. You shut and locked the door before you closed the toilet lid and sat on it, head in your hands. The roar of your friends was muffled, and for once you felt relief. Quiet.

You splashed your face with cool water, taking one last look in the mirror at your haunted eyes, and walked out only to run into something. Or someone. You looked down to see a small girl in a large white nightgown frowning at you.

"Who are you?" She said groggily as she wiped at her blue eyes.

"Oh!" You stepped aside. "I'm sorry. I'm (Y/N), your um, uncle Finn's friend."

"I'm Katie," she said slowly, eyeing you closely. "Didn't know daddy had comp'ny."

"We're all in the kitchen," you offered as your hands started to fidget. "Did you need the bathroom? Or your dad?"

"I just wanted water," she said as she pointed to the bathroom. "I can get it myself."

"Right," you said as you stepped around her. "Well it was nice to meet you, Katie, I'll get back to the rest now. Sleep well."

"Goodnight Miss (Y/N)," you heard Katie's small voice say behind you as you walked away.

"Goodnight," you said over your shoulder as you disappeared back to the kitchen.

You had known there were kids there, but it didn't occur to you that you could be bothering their sleep. Guilt washed over you as you returned to the kitchen where the noise was a booming roar.

"I want to go home," you crossed your arms as you reached the table. "It's nearly morning and I'd like to sleep. Some of us have work during daylight hours."

"So go," Michael said from behind his cards. "I'll make sure your friend gets home."

"You lot want me to walk home, in the dark, by myself?" You growled.

You looked to each one, your friend hiding her face in the crook of a smirking Michael's arm. Finn and Isaiah both were scratching their heads, staring hard at their cards. For once, the kitchen was silent.

"Fine," you gritted through your teeth. "Some friends you are."

"Oh don't be like that, love," Isaiah said as he grabbed for your wrist. "We're not ready to end the night, that's all. Tell you what, you go snooze on the couch and when we're done I'll come walk you home."

"How generous," you snapped as you twisted your wrist from his grip. "I'll take my chances on the streets. A few hours in my bed before work sounds better than a couch next to a party of loud idiots."

You heard them call to you as you stormed out and slammed the door, but you didn't stop until you were a few steps from the garden gate. The iron gate had been carelessly left open against the short stone walls. You looked at the ivy creeping along the stones as you took a breath and hugged yourself, realizing you had left your coat inside. Your breath formed a cloud in front of you but you frowned when you realized a different cloud was coming from the other side of the stone.

"Do you normally smoke outside of your garden in the wee hours of the morning?" You scowled as you rounded the corner to see John leaning against the wall, one arm wrapped around a propped leg as his hand pulled a cigar from his lips as the other leg lay flat against the ground.

John blew the smoke under the crook of his arm before looking back up at you with his boyish smile.

"Well hello again, beautiful," John eased. "Why, hoping to catch me alone?"

You felt the rush of heat to your face as you looked down and bit your lip for a moment, trying to compose yourself. You finally looked back to him, tapping his foot with your boot.

"No, I was just heading home," you said. "You're avoiding the question, though."

"Maybe I was," he said, sitting up straighter and tapping the ground beside him until you sat. "I figured a house full of kids would alert me if my children decided to come join them. Decided to take the free alarm system for what it was and enjoy a few quiet minutes to myself."

"I shouldn't bother you, then," you said, moving to get back up.

John's arm wrapped around you, rubbing the goosebumps on your shoulder as he pulled the smoke into his mouth.

"I can be myself with you here," he murmured around the cigar. "I'm not the only one that craves quiet."

You started to protest but instead settled under his arm. You watched as the cherry burned bright, illuminated his face in the dark before he pulled the cigar away and let the smoke roll from his mouth, always careful to blow it away from you. You hesitantly reached for the cigar as John went to bring it back up to his lips. He let you take it. You brought the damp end to your lips and puffed lightly.

"Don't breathe in too hard, pet," he chuckled. "It's not a cigarette. You just roll the smoke in your mouth rather than inhale."

You smiled as you handed it back to him before you exhaled.

"I know," you said with the last of the smoke. "Pa used to smoke cigars. He said he only had one on good days, which usually meant a holiday. Pretty sure that's the same kind. I'd know that smell anywhere."

"Your Pa has good taste," John said. "Should have known that by one look at you."

You faltered, unsure what to say to him. You weren't used to the compliments, especially when they weren't paired with a hand grabbing at your skirts. John sounded genuine and it confused you rather than flattered you.

John cleared his throat as he looked around the wall to look back at his door.

"Where's my idiot brother or Isaiah with your coat to walk you home?" John turned back to you as the shadows danced across his face to enhance his knotted brows. "I figured one of them would have been out by now."

"No one's coming for me," you stammered as you moved to stand up. "I forgot my coat when I stormed out."

"You're not walking home alone," John scoffed as he stood with you. "I'll take you if the idiots inside won't."

"You really don't have to," you said shyly. "I wouldn't trust them in your house by themselves, honestly."

You both chuckled.

"Yeah?" John laughed as he put the cigar out on the wall and laid it on the stone. "Probably shouldn't. Finn would just as easily set the place on fire boiling a pot of water."

"I'm taking you home," John said, more serious this time. "I'll go get your coat."

"No," you said quickly as you grabbed his hand before he could step away. "I just…" you let go of his hand as he turned back to you, "I'd rather not have you go after my coat like I tattled. I'm sure they'll pick it up when they leave. I'll grab it from them later."

John sighed, annoyance rattling through his teeth.

"Fine," he said, "but we're taking the car if you have no coat."

"You really don't have to--"

"I do and I am," John said firmly as he took your elbow to lead you around the corner to the garage.

He opened the passenger door for you and you silently slipped inside, rubbing your arm to rid yourself from the goosebumps as he climbed inside the driver's side.

"Thank you," you said quietly as he started the car and made his way down the street.

"You're not a bother, you know?" John chuckled, eyes on the road. "You're so damn polite and you ask for so little, yet you're so surprised if you get it. Just relax. I'm not sure what you're expecting but it ain't me."

You shuffled in your seat, shoving your hands between your legs to warm your fingertips. John frowned over at you, taking your hand in his.

"You're right frozen, aren't you?" He said as he pulled your fingers to his mouth and exhaled warm air on them, leaving a different kind of goosebumps to cover your skin. "Here, hold on."

He slowed the car to a crawl and let you go, wiggling himself out of his coat to hand you the warm wool.

"Oh, I--"

"Just take the damn thing and warm up, yeah?" He said. "How are you this stubborn for help? I've already told you I'm not out to stop you."

"What are you out for?" You said, surprise caught in your throat. You hadn't expected to be able to actually say it. John sighed, tired rather than annoyed.

"I've seen you, (Y/N)," he said, glancing at you as you put on his coat before looking back at the road. "You used to enjoy all this. The tokyo. The alcohol. The long nights. You spun in circles like a top. Now you still spin, but the smile is fake. You've put on a mask."

You froze, your head swimming with thoughts. He noticed? He cared?

"So?"

"So I want to know why," John exhaled. "I want to know you. We aren't that different."

"We aren't?"

"No."

The rest of the ride was silent. John puttered the car down city streets until he reached your flat. You never asked how he knew where it was.

Peaky business, you thought. They know everything.

When he stopped at your curb, you moved to get out of his coat but he waved you off.

"Keep it for the night," John smiled. "I'll trade you for yours another day."

"Thank you, John," you said softly before you turned and got out of the car.

You were halfway up your steps before you heard a car door open and steps thudding toward you. You stopped and turned around to meet John eye to eye.

He had pulled a toothpick out and started biting on it as he smiled at you. You waited in silence as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Um," John said as he looked to his feet and back up at you. "Can I take you somewhere?"

"Where?" You cocked your head, amused by his sudden shyness.

"Well it's a surprise but," he sucked in his cheek, "you said you're working tomorrow, yeah? When's your next day off? We can make a day of it. Or an afternoon, if you'd rather."

"I guess I'm off Saturday," you said slowly. "But I'm usually selling nights on weekends."

"Don't worry about that," John said. "The boys give you trouble, tell 'em I got another job for you. It'll keep 'em off your back. You hate it, I'll bring you home and you can go sell or anything you want. Take a night in, even."

"We can leave anytime I want?" You ask skeptically, watching John's easy smile as he lifted his hands up.

"Blinder's honor."

Masterlist

#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #storytime with murderousginger #john shelby #john shelby x reader #isaiah jesus #finn shelby #michael gray

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stxrvel · 3 years

Text

cowboy like me

summary: a bad day for Bucky, a splendid week for the woman. mixed feelings and memories of a stormy past prevent Bucky from giving voice to his true feelings. (I'm really sorry I'm so bad at summary's)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 2k or so.

warnings: poor bucky letting his feelings get the better of him and saying mean things from time to time, sorry bout that. oh, and I wrote this in the third person, I don't know if that's a warning but still. and last but not least, English is not my native language so I apologise in advance for any mistakes.

also, the title of this and the part of the song quoted below only inspired the setting of this one-shot. the "plot" is independent of the theme song. I just have a bunch of taylor's songs that inspires me scenarios like this with independent plots, it's like a hobby. and ALSO, this is my first fic in here, and I really hope to do more parts in the future, especially when this semester is over. so, I hope you like it!

you're a bandit like me eyes full of stars hustling for the good life

It had not rained like this for quite some time. Lightning echoed in every part of the city and the drops were crashing against the window glass with the speed of a Maserati on a winding road; the sky was dark even though it was only four o'clock in the afternoon. Inside the room, the atmosphere was warm and comfortable, one of the reasons she stopped by at least five times a week. However, a few minutes before the downpour began, the whole atmosphere had turned so grey that for a moment it seemed as if the clouds were bringing a bad omen...

But no, it was only him.

The man who always sat next to her in the cafeteria to use one of the computers that the café provided as a service.

Besides the sound of the bell above the door and his soaked boots, it was his exasperated sigh that caught her attention before she looked away from her laptop screen.

His hair fell over his forehead with a few raindrops slipping from his forehead and temples, until they were lost under his jawline and mingling in the cotton of his shirt. The frown he kept on his face did not disappear as he tried, very unsuccessfully, to dry his clothes by shaking them slightly.

He would definitely do anything to keep that leather jacket and gloves on.

The smell of coffee and the hustle and bustle of the room contrasted with the calm but resignedly helpless attitude of the man who was running his hands heavily over his trousers as if they were a portable hairdryer.

Michael, one of the waiters who occasionally gave them ham and cheese croissants on Saturdays when they were both there, approached the sulking man and, seconds later, they both disappeared into the kitchen behind the till.

The screen of her mobile phone lit up as she tried to refocus on the reading she had to do.

Betty: I still don't understand how not wanting to visit your abusive dad in hospital is an important topic of conversation in a counselling session. I mean, the words abusive father say it all.

Tell me you're on my side.

Me: I still think you should change your psychologist.

Betty: I know! But at that clinic it's 30% cheaper than getting a private one. But, I already have a solution, next week I'll...

The squeak of the chair next to her being dragged startled her and her mobile phone almost flew out of her hands. The grumpy man, now a little drier, dropped the weight of his giant body on the poor chair so that it squeaked as if complaining about the man's rudeness. He stared at the computer screen on as if it held the solution to all his problems.

“Bad day?”

“Just an unfortunate string of inconveniences since I opened my eyes this morning,” he commented seriously and gravely as he began to move his hands over the keyboard. He hadn't looked at her when he spoke, which was not unusual, but at the moment it felt inappropriate, “Nothing I'm not used to.”

The woman turned her head to look at the twenty-seven pages she still had to read, and it seemed too tedious a thing to spend her time on now that Bucky had arrived.

“Is there anything I can do for you? I'm going to apply for a job at a daycare, maybe I could start practicing with you.”

Bucky faked a laugh, rather bitter and strained the kind she was used to hearing, “Very funny,” he said, his gaze dark and fixed on the screen.

“Sometimes you laugh at my jokes.”

“When they're funny,” he blurted out as soon as she finished speaking, instantly regretting it but not showing it in his body language.

“Hey! Don't hurt my feelings like that. What happened with your therapist? If you want to talk about it, sure.”

She watched his body tense and how he made no attempt to hide the bitter expression on his face as soon as the word "therapist" left her mouth. The woman thought she'd made a poor choice of words, yet Bucky felt unsettled by how strangely easily she seemed to be able to read his attitudes. Since when had she started doing such things? Had she always been that way? Had he let his guard down that much these past few weeks?

“Just... trouble, in general,” he pronounced her name with feigned gentleness, sending a shiver down her spine. Had he noticed by now? So soon? She thought, hastily.

“Okay,” she mumbled, trying to keep her composure as her mind worked at full speed, “I understand if you don't want to talk about it.”

No, he couldn't have noticed. Regardless of how damaged and broken she was inside, she knew that wasn't something Bucky paid the most detailed attention to. And, even if that were the case, there wasn't a person on the planet who knew her better than he did at this point, so if he wanted to walk away and leave her to not deal with her problems and constant chatter, he would have done so long ago.

Bucky sighed deeply, the movement of his chest aching from the lump in his throat. His hands moved on automatic over the keyboard, digging into things he already knew, spending the time just trying to divert the train of thought that wouldn't leave him alone. Anyway, is it really so bad for someone to know me like that? He thought, as the woman returned to her reading, it's not bad to be vulnerable once in a while, she's not going to hurt me. I know, I know.

Then why does it scare me so much?

His hands clasped as a third presence appeared between them. Michael, with a giant grin on his face, set two medium-sized cups of coffee on the small table they shared in front of the window. The woman's, with milk and sweetened with vanilla, as she always asked for. Bucky's, black, plain and cold, the way he always drank it.

The girl sitting next to him and the barista shared a couple of words in a conversation that seemed to be too funny, because she kept laughing. Why did he find her laughter annoying? Was it because it was too loud, or because it sounded too high-pitched unlike her normal laughter? When she laughed with Bucky, her tone was softer, gravelly, delicate and jovial. He couldn't describe the sensation that burned in his chest every time her eyes narrowed at her smile, or every time she brought her right hand to her chest, over her heart, as if she couldn't bear to laugh anymore, but at the same time holding back the pain in her cheeks so she wouldn't stop.

Michael didn't get that. No, he wasn't getting what Bucky was.

“Bucky?”

Her chuckling voice disconnected him from the bizarre conjectures in his mind, and he turned his eyes to her. She was looking at him with a rueful smile and her cheeks were too flushed.

“Are you all right?”

The aforementioned reveled in the sight that was plastered in front of him, with her sparkling eyes and the way her lips curved, before replying, “Yeah, all good.”

When he noticed Michael was still there, his shoulders tensed and quickly his gaze refocused on the sea of words displayed on the screen in front of him.

“You're too stiff,” he heard the woman's voice again a few seconds later, “Are you sure you don't want to do something to distract yourself? There are a lot of things coming to mind right now.”

Bucky turned to look at her with a frown.

“What things?”

“Um, last week you told me you've never played twenty questions before.”

The man arched an eyebrow, intrigued by how his mind played him, but quickly replied, “Do I look like the kind of person who plays the twenty questions?”

“Not really, but that day you told me you were willing to try it if I played it with you.”

Bucky was silent for a few seconds.

“I don't remember saying that.”

“Sometimes you don't remember a lot of things for convenience, Barnes,” she teased innocently, but Bucky knew what that meant: you're always evading me when I'm trying to help you.

And well, it was true.

“I imagine you don't remember Sam's invitation to you three days ago either.”

“What invitation?” he played distracted, as he pretended to vehemently read what he'd Googled.

“He asked you to join him to watch a game at the bar two blocks from your flat.”

Bucky hummed as he pretended to think about what he'd just heard, even though he remembered it perfectly. And he knew that earlier in the day he'd left it on hold, which was a clear and express no, but he hadn't said that to the woman who was now staring at him.

“I don't like football.”

The woman let out a snort of exasperation.

“This is why you have no friends, Bucky.”

“I could say the same about you.”

Bucky knew it was a joke. She'd said things like that to him before and it had never bothered him; he knew she didn't mean it in a derogatory way or to make fun of him. She would never do that. But subconsciously, he couldn't stop his mouth from blurting out the words he didn't want to say; words he would never have thought to say to her.

“I know you've had a bad day, Buck,” she spoke again after a few seconds, “But I just want to distract you.”

“I don't need your help, I can manage on my own.”

“Okay, let's just... change the subject, shall we?”

Bucky pursed his lips, but didn't dare connect their gazes.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay," she mused, and didn't speak again until a couple of seconds later, “How was your date?”

He gave a small smile before saying, “I'm sure you waited for a reasonable amount of time so you could satiate your curiosity.”

The woman let out a laugh, the kind that had the ability to calm Bucky's countenance for a few moments, before replying, “It's just that ever since I met you I didn't think I'd ever see you going on a real date.”

“And you probably won't again.”

“That's how bad it went?”

Bucky twisted his mouth, only remembering the image in the background of his neighbour's flat.

“It could have been worse.”

“Maybe we're just not cut out for dating.”

After a long moment, Bucky turned his head to watch her pursed lips. Her expression seemed downcast, but she pulled herself together quickly when she felt his gaze on her.

“What we've done or who we've been in the past, doesn't define what we can do or be now,” he reminded her of the words she always said to him when he felt he didn't deserve something good, and watched her nod at his words with a small smile, “Don't torment yourself thinking about it, neither of us had a choice.”

“I could tell you the same thing.”

Bucky smiled, sincerely, and for the first time since he had awoken that morning.

“I apply the philosophy you preach perfectly, I'm a great disciple.”

She elongated a sarcastic laugh that widened Bucky's grin. What was it about her that drew you in and bewitched you like that?

“In a trauma contest, you'd take first place, Barnes.”

“We'd be tied, you mean.”

The woman smiled at him, and between their looks, they both knew they were only hiding the truth behind the humour. Bucky didn't often do it, but since he'd met her, and considering that was something she often did -using humour to cover up the truth she'd rather not accept, or simply to hide the pain-, he'd gotten such a habit of doing it every so often that even his therapist was a little put out the first time he joked about one of his traumas in front of her. It was a very strange scenario that was never repeated.

“I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier,” Bucky took the floor again, a little more relaxed than when he'd arrived soaking wet in the cafeteria, “It's just... I killed my neighbour's son.”

“No,” she replied quickly and firmly, as she did every time a similar topic came up in their conversations, “It was the Winter Soldier. It was a person they created to control and disenfranchise, that wasn't you. It wasn't the Bucky I know. I'm sorry to hear that, but... it wasn't your fault, I know that whatever they did for your mind was always rejected by your body, even if you couldn't control it.”

The man half-opened his lips, wanting to say something, wanting to give voice to the jumble of thoughts concurring in his mind, but nothing managed to come out other than incoherent babbling.

“I... I don't know how to tell him.”

“You really want to?”

Bucky nodded, looking into the woman's shining, understanding eyes as she brought one of her hands up to cradle the side of his face.

“Then you'll find a way. Don't push yourself.”

He rested his right hand on the hand the woman held on his cheek, and leaned his head slightly into her touch. Although the stress and tension did not disappear completely, it did give way to a relaxing and lively sense of calm and stillness. Bucky didn't know if she had done it on purpose or not, but her words, though few, brought back a harmonic undertone he hadn't allowed himself to return to in a long time.

Then you'll find a way.

Don't push yourself.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter solider #tfatws bucky #tfawts #fatws

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