#dunkirk x reader

REQUESTED BY ANONYMOUS

collins often keeps quiet throughout the entire day because he misses you

he’s writing to you every day

dreaming about you almost every night

he also keeps a photograph of you inside his uniform

and even tapes it near the window so he can get a good look of you while flying

he would want to take you flying one day

collins dreams of living a peaceful life with you

you always love his blue eyes

he takes you out to your favourite places on dates

surprising you when he returns home

telling you about his plane going down and being rescued

he fights through the war when you give him courage and hope through letters

Pairing: Tommy (Fionn Whitehead) x Fem Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death and war

Word Count: Unknown

I sighed as I swished the water in my cup lightly. If it weren't for my brothers I wouldn't be sitting here, wishing them farewell. That’s a lie. I would be here. It wasn't just them here, there were others with their loved ones.

Dancing, dinner and drinks; a night they'd surely remember in the dark days that followed. Everyone here could feel the tension. There isn’t a knife strong enough to cut through the pain this room was feeling, because there was more than one feeling. Despair, love, hope. But through this pain, some people let their emotions run wild and cried into their loved ones shoulder as they danced the night away, while others smiled and put on a strong face. A lot of people coming here this evening had silently made a promise to send them off with a smile. But, in the end that promise was broken and they cried. No one blamed them though and none of them judged.

We were sending our husbands, fathers, sons, brothers, our men to war in a week; without any idea if they were coming home alive. So to those who were spilling their emotions out on the dance floor, we let whoever they would be sending off comfort them.

I took a small sip of my water “I can do it, I can hold it in. (B1/N) and (B2/N) as well as the rest are gonna come home safely. We just can’t think of the negatives.” I repeated to myself for the umpteenth time.

I heard someone clear their throat, breaking me free from that little voice inside my head. I turned to see a man standing with a slight unsure emotion. It was obvious that he was one of the soldiers this night was dedicated to, so seeing him as the only one not dancing was a little unusual.

"Yes?" I turned more towards the soldier.

"Do you mind if I sit here for awhile? You seem a bit--".

"Lonely?" I finished his sentence as I ushered him to sit with me - which wasn't entirely true, I was a tad bit lonely but it was more by choice. However the thought of having company was nice, maybe it'd take my mind off things for a second.

He chuckled a bit as he made himself comfortable, "I wasn't going to be so blunt about it. If you don't mind me asking why are you alone? You should be dancing with someone". The soldier looked to the sea of people on the dance floor. He seemed almost lost looking at them or as if he was looking for someone.

I leaned towards him, "My brothers are dancing. One is dancing with our mom and another is with his wife. So here I sit".

He stared at me for a second as if he was thinking of something to say. He didn't necessarily look worried but it was a little obvious that he felt like he was walking on eggshells. But I will admit he was cute and was kind enough to take the time to talk to me. It could be out of pity or he was simply alone himself, either way it was enjoyable.

"I'm (Y/n)" I say trying to break the ice.

"Tommy. Pleasure to meet you".

I looked around the crowded hall, "Likewise. So why did you decide to sit here? Don't you have someone to dance with?". Everyone was swaying to the slow rhythm of the band playing, the emotions still the same, some laughing and some crying. Despite the mood, they still followed the music.

"No. My friend just left with her daughter, and my father left while I was in the bathroom. Then I saw you sitting by yourself and now we're here" he said with an empty smile. It tugged at my heart strings. How could you leave some so easily, knowing they may never come home? Some things you have to leave for but to get up and walk away without a goodbye is just heartbreaking.

I gave him a weak smile, "If it makes you feel any better. I'm glad you came to sit with me, it's nice".

I see his smile turn slightly more genuine as he gave me a slight nod. I bit the inside of my tongue not knowing what else to say. There was tension between us, the silence we shared had put us in an awkward position. Plus being after what he said about his dad and friend, I felt like I could end up walking on eggshells if I asked any other questions. The silence had gotten the best of me and before I realized it he was scooting the back of his chair out.

"Do you want to dance?" he held out his hand, looking between me and the dance floor. I glanced at the floor and spotted my sister-in-law with my brother. They swayed back and forth, they were smiling, they were enjoying themselves with the little time they had left for who knows how long.

I chuckled before standing up, "I'm not the best dancer in the world so I apologize in advance if I step on your toes". Tommy said “I don’t mind”. I gently placed my hand in Tommy’s before we found our own spot on the floor. As he placed his hand respectfully around my waist, I placed my hand on his shoulder, our hands switching to the correct position but our hands never pulled away. We found the rhythm of the song and began to join the rest of the dancers.

His eyes were beautiful, a perfect mix of hazel and green. It almost seemed as if Tommy’s eyes were pulling me into this world where everything around us just seemed to fade away.

It’s nice here… Before I knew it my warning to him had come true as I felt my foot step on his shoe. “I’m sorry!” I say quickly, pulling my foot off. God, I should have been paying closer attention!

Tommy laughed, “You’re okay. It didn’t hurt”. “Really?” “Yes, really.” I smiled in relief, for a second I thought this was the end of our dance because I might have stepped too hard. “Plus you did warn me” Tommy chuckled before taking the lead of the dance once again.

MAIN MASTERLIST

𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐌/𝐓𝐕

• STRANGER THINGS

• MISCELLANEOUS

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒 (𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘)

• DEAN-CHARLES CHAPMAN

• BEN HARDY

• FINN COLE

• SYDNEY SWEENEY

✎ = currently writing for

blurb events

— 1k celebration blurbs: Masterlist

— Blurb event: Masterlist

— Blurb event vol.3 : Masterlist

— New year's blurb event : Masterlist

— 1.6k celebration blurbs: Masterlist

— Cassie Howard blurb event: Masterlist

Hey guys! I want to start writing and I’m pretty new to this kind of thing. I would really appreciate it if you guys could send in your requests! 

I won’t write anything NSFW as of now :)

I will write one-shots, headcanons, gif imagines, imagines, blurbs, fics and honestly, anything else I missed, for:

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

ACOTAR Series

Rhysand

Azriel

Cassian

Lucien

The Good Doctor

Dr. Neil Melendez

Dr. Jared Kalu

Dr. Shaun Murphy

Shadow and Bone

The Darkling

Kaz Brekker

Teen Wolf

Stiles Stilinski

Derek Hale

Scott McCall

Isaac Lahey

The Maze Runner

Thomas

Newt

Minho

Peaky Blinders

1. Thomas Shelby

2. Alfie Solomons

3. Shelby!reader (Shelby!sister)

Lost

1. James 'Sawyer' Ford

Star Trek

1. Jim Kirk

2. Leonard McCoy

Inception

1. Eames

2. Arthur

Dunkirk

1. Farrier

2. Alex

The X-Files

1. Fox Mulder

Harry Potter Franchise

1. Sirius Black

2. James Potter

3. Remus Lupin

4. Cedric Diggory

5. Fred Weasley

6. George Weasley

7. Charlie Weasley

Marvel

1. Tony Stark

2. Loki

3. Bucky Barnes

4. Thor

5. Quicksilver (Age of Ultron)

6. Logan

7. Young Charles Xavier

8. Young Erik Lehnsherr

9. Eddie Brock (Venom)

The Gentlemen 

1. Raymond Smith

1917

1. William Schofield 

Twilight

1. Edward Cullen

Actors/Cast

1. MCU cast

2. Twilight cast

3. Cillian Murphy

4. Tom Hardy

5. Chris Pine

6. Robert Pattinson

7. Dylan O'Brien

8. Thomas Brodie-Sangster

9. Jensen Ackles

9. Jared Padalecki

10. Misha Collins

As promised, the new Dunkirk fic. Enjoy everyone!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Late 1939

When you first met Farrier and Collins, it was in the most awkward of situations. That was to say, you would’ve preferred to be in any place other than the food hall of the RAF training base, surrounded by hungry to-be pilots who eyed your nurse uniform with intense interest. It was late 1939 and the RAF were in desperate need of trained pilots. Here in the very mess hall you were standing, were almost a hundred of them. And out of the hundred men who sat at the tables the Matron had asked you to find a certain Frank Delaney. Needless to say–you weren’t having much luck. Apparently, he had twisted his ankle some time earlier this morning and failed to report to the nurse’s station for a continued check-up later this evening. And you, being the newest member of the nursing staff at the training base, was despatched with this role. What the Matron failed to tell you was what a scene you would cause by walking in through the front entrance of the mess hall. Nor did the Matron tell you just how hard it is to find this ‘Frank Delaney’ amongst all the ducked heads there were slowly but surely turning your way.

Now you weren’t one to get easily intimated. Having two older brothers that teased you constantly in your youth gave you more backbone than any could’ve guessed in your small stature. But with hundreds of pairs of eyes slowly drawing towards you and the sheer difficulty of your task was starting to make you panic. Frank Delaney. What did the Matron say? Black hair, freckled skin with a distantly East London accent? You could hardly see any faces distantly among that chewing mouths and turned positions. The sound of chatter ricocheting off the walls made you question if you could actually hear anything at all. But you were standing there, staring at the men hunkered down over their meals and you realised you looked like an idiot. In your white aproned dress, blue shirt, and white habit over the back of your hair, you couldn’t have stuck out more even if you tried. So you began to walk around the circumference of the room, eyes glancing to the side occasionally hoping to see this Frank but all you see were curious glances.

Change of plans.

It was the side of the side door opening that you made your exit, counting the steps towards some sort of salvation. You had to regroup, rethink and ultimately come out with a plan that didn’t result in your melting from humiliation in front of intimidating men. Thoughts spiralling with your determination, your eyes didn’t land on the pair of shining black shoes until you were hitting smack bang in the centre of RAF uniform. There was hollering in the background, your habit was askew and out of all the things that could happen, you were starting to turn into the tomato your brothers always teased you of being.

“You alright?” asked the tall man you surprised. Subconsciously your mind registered two things. One: the accent was not East London, rather it was Scottish. Two: the lingering tobacco scent on the uniform gave you a longing pang for your brothers who you hadn’t seen for some time. You nodded quickly, straightening your habit and looking up apologetically into kind eyes.

The laughter had gotten louder and with increasing embarrassment you tried to head for the door again. Only now the doorway was blocked by another RAF pilot, shorter than the first but with an steady gaze. He simply glanced at you then at the Scot, taking in the scene in a matter of seconds. Then in the brisk manner you would come to know from him, he raised his voice to tell then men to shut it.

“Farrier, mate, just having some fun!” One of the men called out jovially and others around him nodded. Farrier said not a word, swept his eyes across the dining hall and returned to you.

“Seems you require assistance, Sister…” He waited for a beat.

“Sister Y/N,” you supplied, still eyeing the men warily. Now they had settled down you tried to peer at them more clearly, going up on your toes slightly. There were some with black hair but you weren’t quite sure whether it was natural or due to sweat. At this point you cringed inwardly at the latter.

The Scottish pilot sounded rather amused. “Trying to find someone, Sister?”

“Actually, yes.” An idea sparked up in your mind. “I’m looking for a Frank Delaney. He needs to report to the Matron about an…injury earlier this morning. I was going to go find him but if you two…” You trailed off, waiting for their response. You knew the outcome anyhow. In the RAF if you didn’t make a good laugh at someone else’s expense, then you weren’t getting the full experience.

The most boyish smile came up on the Scot’s face and even Farrier seemed interested.

“What do you think, Collins?” Farrier queried unnecessarily.

“Well that would depend on the injury. What did Frankie boy do, aye?” Collins asked you.

You tried to look demure or even serious but that gleam in their eyes reminded you so much of your brothers when you were little. “A twisted ankle. He forgot to report in earlier before supper.”

Both men muttered a ‘right,’ but you could clearly see they weren’t paying attention to you. There was a certain comradery between them that was unlike any you had witnessed before. It was like they both grew up in the same neighbourhood, kicked ball on the streets and badgered all the girls mad when they were younger.

“My turn to do the shoutin’.” Collins told Farrier in a jesting tone.

Farrier raised an eyebrow as if to ask, are you really making a play at this? But Farrier stepped to the side, hands behind a straight back with a face as passive as glass. And as Collins called over the crowd of men for quiet, Farrier’s constant blank expression made it hard for you not to snicker or laugh. Even more so when a red-faced Frank Delaney limped towards you and you heard Farrier’s considering, “Might be worthwhile to get a watch, Delaney.”

Jack Collins x Elizabeth Lowden Dunkirk Words: 1.911

*Trigger warning* mentions of death, war, guns

Author's note: This one is for @doctoriletyougotogalaxy ! Thanks for your request

The war had been going on for weeks already. You were worried for your fiancé Jack who had been called to fight for the Royal Air Force - how could you not be? The survival rate was at about 24% you heard others talk.

When you heard that they were looking for nurses to help with the evacuation of Dunkirk you where on of the first ones to volunteer and pack your bags. The ship would be leaving the same day at noon. It was a big risk to take, but you wanted to help the soldiers and have at least the slightest chance to see your fiancé Jack again.

Walking along the docks where soldiers where packing private boats with life jackets and other materials you saw some familiar faces loading their own boat - Mr. Dawson, his son Peter and peters friend George.

REQUESTED BY ANONYMOUS

INSTEAD of you growing intimidated by the number of buttons and switches on the panel, Collins grew pride when he discovered how much of a patient yet fast-learner you turned out to be.

You smiled eagerly at him. "When can you teach me to take off?"

Your boyfriend was skeptic about that part. "Honey, you need to under-go tons of training and school for that. At least let me demonstrate before I can start taking the training wheels off."