#THIS QUOTE MADE ME THINK OF HIM SO HARD I HAD TO. its not a great set but sdkffdslkj my soul was aflame waiting to make it LOL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

filmbyjy · 3 months

Note

hiii

you may not recognize me and thats because im (kinda) new hehe.. anyway, i've been kinda stalking you- but that's besides the point. i loveee your workss!! keep up the good work <3 idk if asks are open, but if they are, could you write a fluffy fem!reader x bf!niki where the reader comes home from a long day, and niki comforts her?? and if you cant, its totally ok <3

have a nice day!

a/n: this has been in the drafts for a year now💀 so sorry, I am trying to clear the drafts but my schedule is shit and we all know I suck at keeping up with my schedule😍

WELCOME HOME

it was past 8pm when you had treaded through the front door of your apartment. your body sore from leaning over the tables and wiping it. normally, the cafe you work at was peaceful and was decently packed but after a viral video that practically wowed the internet.

there had been more and more people stopping by everyday. the cafe was decently sized but it was short staffed so sometimes you had to man the cashier, do the dishes, clean the tables and make the drinks. for normal days (before the surge of people), there was about 2 people working per shift, not including the 2 bakers in the kitchen as they were the behind the scenes staff that were required to be there.

with not that many staff per shift, it was hard for you and whoever was working that day to manage the cafe. that also meant more demands from the customers who think they are entitled to make a mess of the space as 'customers are always right'. curse, whoever made that quote.

you were mentally and physically drained. you just needed a good long rest for the rest of the week. however, you couldn't do that. not when your off-days were already used up for visiting your family back in your hometown. if only you could just...take a breather.

"welcome home, baby!" ni-ki slides into the hallway just as you walked towards the living room. you gave him a tired smile.

"hi riki, why aren't you at the dorm?" ni-ki gives you a playful pout.

"already kicking me out? baby, you wound me. i came to see you and you're already pushing me away." he says as he throws his (long) arms around you. "you weren't answering my calls so i assumed it was a long day at work and you didn't charge your phone."

you took out your phone and tried to turn it on but it was indeed dead. "sorry, today was a hectic day. couldn't even get a proper lunch break. there was so many people coming over for the past week."

"yeah, i heard about it. jake hyung talked about wanting to come over and buy some desserts. they did look good but since you know us being celebrities...we could get mobbed."

you hummed, "that's fair. it's a good thing you didn't go. seriously, have never seen such a long queue outside of the cafe in my whole years of working there."

"there was a queue?" he says as he pulls back from the hug.

"yeah, i felt like i was working at some fancy restaurant. oh god, speaking of there are so many karens trying to scam me and gaslight me into thinking i did something wrong when i did nothing wrong." you groaned and buried your head against ni-ki's chest.

he pats your head. "were you the shift manager?"

"usually i am whenever i am working that day."

"mmm, then you could've kicked them out and taught them a lesson."

"trust me, i wanted to but i can't i'll lose my job so i just sucked it up and patiently worked with them and even gave them a free bagel."

"not the free bagels, baby. they'll just come back again for more." ni-ki huffs.

"i know but what am i supposed to do." you sniffled as the tears that unknowingly appeared falls. you were just mad and exhausted. ni-ki obviously heard it so he pulls you back and cups your face.

"hey hey, don't cry. everything will be fine. why don't i run you a bath and then order some of your favourite food, okay?" he wipes the tears that were falling down.

"will cuddles be included?"

"of course. cuddles will be included. now, just lay in bed and i'll get the bath running." he pecks your forehead and goes to move to bedroom. however, you grabbed his wrist.

"carry me to my bedroom?" you pout. ni-ki smiles and scoops you up in his arms. he princess carries you over to your bed and places you gently onto the mattress before going over to the bathroom and getting ready the bathtub.

you had shut your eyes for a bit since you were tired but the exhaustion took a toll on you and you fell asleep for a little. ni-ki shakes you a little. "baby? the bath is ready. go enjoy it, i already placed an order so the food should be on the way soon."

you hummed and went over to the bathroom to remove your clothing and step into the bathtub. you laid your back against the edge of the tub and shut your eyes again. the candle light making everything moody and warm. you were enjoying the comfortable warmth and silence, much better than the bustling sounds at the cafe. this felt nice.

you had spent in the bathroom for about 20 minutes or so before deciding to get out of the tub. you didn't want to your fingers or toes to look like dried prunes so you decided to just get out of the water. you had grabbed the towel and dried yourself off. you could hear a knock at the door.

"baby, i have pyjamas with me. i forgot to leave them inside the bathroom." you opened the door to ni-ki. he had one hand out to hold the pyjama set and the other hand covering his eyes. a very gentleman thing of him to always do if you came out of the shower in just your towel.

you had noticed he too was wearing a pyjama set and it was similar to yours. of course, he loved matching things with you. you grabbed the pyjamas. "mmm, i think you forgot to grab my undergarments."

his ears quickly turned red in embarrassment. "ah, i knew i forget something. i-i'll just leave the room so you could change." and so ni-ki bolts out of the room and shuts the door. you shook your head, laughing a little since he was so adorable.

you changed into the pyjamas after putting on your undergarments and then went out to the living room. there ni-ki was, turning on the tv and searching up your favourite anime to watch together and setting up the food onto the coffee table. you had come up behind him and back hugged him.

"i have the best boyfriend in the world." you say. ni-ki smiles.

"well, let's not forget your boyfriend is one of a kind. where can you get another nishimura riki, member of boy band enhypen, in the world." he boasts. you playfully rolled your eyes and released him.

"that's very humble of you, riki." you playfully say.

"oh, i know. i'm just that hot." ni-ki smirks. you laughed.

"yeah, you are. now, will my hunk of a boyfriend please just cuddle and eat with me?"

"of course, i'll eat with my beautiful and amazing girlfriend any time." he steals a small peck to your lips and settles down on the couch. you gave him a playful gaze and settled right next to him.

after some time, you found yourself tangled with ni-ki. your legs and his long ones were somehow crossed in between in each other as you cuddled like cats laying together.

"oh, it's over?" you say.

"no, it can't be." ni-ki gasps.

a flash to the tv showed 'season 2 coming soon'. it made both you and ni-ki groan. "that's lame. we have to wait for the next season? that's going to take 1-2 years." ni-ki whines.

"they're going to pull another 'Spy Family' thing where there isn't going to have episodes in the next season, i can feel it." you complained.

"boooo. let's watch something else." ni-ki grumbles.

"yeah, let's watch-"

"let's watch, you. you're really pretty." ni-ki says as he stares down at you. ah, this playful and teasing ni-ki is appearing now.

"that wasn't that smooth, riki."

"well, to me it was. besides, this is a signal for you to reward me and i don't know give me a kiss or at least a peck? i am an amazing boyfriend, right?"

you snort, "yes, riki. you are but you're not getting that peck."

"what? why." he pouts.

"because..." you got closer to him and watches you with adorable doe eyes. before you unexpectedly peck him and ran away. ni-ki sits there confused, trying to analyse the situation properly. until he finally digested it.

"hey! get back here!" he yells as he tries to chase after you.

you could've not felt any better.

and being with ni-ki helped it.

179 notes · View notes

writing-mlm · 3 months

Note

jason todd x reader please 😔

The ShopKeep and the Hobbyist [J.T]

Summary: Jason's been going to this bookstore for long enough that he's developed a bit of a reputation with them. If only the cute cashier would understand he's trying to flirt but as fate would have it, one knife chase later, and maybe they're more than worker and costumer. Pairing: Jason Todd x Male!Reader WC: 7.3k TW: use of fag but its a quote

Jason traveled out of Gotham once a week, always on a Sunday, always to the same location for three entire hours. Everyone knew that Sunday from noon to four— accounting for traffic and eating out that might happen, that Jason was absolutely unavailable. Unless you physically went to track him down.

But that’s yet to happen.

It’s Sunday and Jason arrived at the normal spot earlier than usual. Traffic was amazing, no accidents on the way out of Gotham, and the highway was thankfully void. He parked his bike in his normal spot, right in front of the store, and lifted the visor to the helmet before heading inside.

The Open Book had always welcomed Jason, even when the shop was closed in the middle of a blizzard. And he helped where he could (Wayne Enterprises always made a large monthly donation to the shop and for some odd reason, someone had gifted the shop a fake bird that is able to stop any thefts(odd)).

“New shipment came in today,” The store owner's grandson greeted him, leaning across the counter to grab at the basket of free candies the shop offered. “Snagged this vintage-looking book collection for ya.” Ever since word that a Wayne kid visits the bookshop, sales have grown so it’s hard keeping certain items in stock. Especially the fancy-looking titles.

“Do tell,” He grabs a bite-sized chocolate and rips the packet open while you set your lollipop wrapper into your apron pocket before ducking under the counter.

“Shits heavy,” You grunt, slamming the box onto the table and read the label. “Uhh, ‘William Shakespeare, Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies. Published According to the True Originall Copies, 1623.’ Original is spelled wrong, though,” You look up at him and pause at his wide-eyed, clearly shocked expression.

“Shakespeare fan?” You ask, opening the flap to the box. “There’s a bunch of them in here. I think this was someone’s collection.”

“Do you know how much it’s worth?” Jason laughs, peering into the box, and then whistles.

“Probably a hundred at the most,” You shrug and he slaps the table with a loud Ha! that makes you look at him, crossing his arms. “Fifty?”

“Try nine mil,” The lollipop falls from your mouth as you look from Jason to the book collection.

“For all of it?” You gape.

“For the top book,” He corrects. “Thank god you snagged it before someone who cared did.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, staring at the book and taking in all of the details. That’s more than you’ll ever make in a lifetime. “What should I do? Do you want it?”

“Want it like I need air,” He admits, handing you another lollipop. “But you should probably auction it, get a stack and whatnot.”

“Grams would get pissed,” You shake your head and slide the box towards him. “Believes books should be read, not stored as an artifact, yknow? Think she marked this box as a hundred, want me to ring it up?” He looks at you and takes his helmet off so you can fully see his are you stupid? look that’s plastered on his face.

“(Y/n),” Jason slides the box back. “This is worth more than every single book in here!” And as much as he pained Jason to say that, he knew it was true. With over two entire floors filled with books, they were but a drop in the bucket compared to that singular box sitting between the two of you.

“It’s just paper and ink,” You shrug, staring at the box. “Besides, she’d get mad if I did and I can’t exactly hide nine million dollars!” Sighing through his nose, he agrees to buy the box and has you set it aside while he goes about shopping.

“You’re staring,” Someone tells him as they walk past and his head spins around to see who it is. It’s one of your younger sisters, around twelve or thirteen, if he remembers right.

“Wasn’t,” He tells her and picks up a book. “I was looking at this book!” She turns back to him and raises her eyebrows at the title before grinning.

“Didn’t take you as an Ice Breaker fan,” She chides and walks away while Jason stares at the book. It could’ve been basically any other book. Putting the book back, Jason returns to his actual book shopping which only takes ten or so minutes. He knows his bag is going to be heavy with the Shakeseapre books so he can’t get too many other books this week.

“Light load,” You comment, scanning the books. “You bought this one a month ago, too.” You note, holding off on scanning A Good Girls Guide to Murder.

“My sister wants to read it,” He explains, flipping through the pages. “And she likes to dogear pages.” Cringing, you scan the book and read him his total before leaning against the counter. It’s a large enough counter that most of your body can rest against it while he pays while you use your phone to order some lunch.

“That place sucks ass,” Jason comments as he’s putting his card away. You roll your eyes and look up at him.

“I’m hungry as shit and there’s no good places around within a reasonable price, this place has decent grilled cheeses.” You justify and he finishes paying.

“What would you have gotten?” He muses, leaning against the counter so the two of you are face to face. Staring at the sad picture of a grilled cheese you huff.

“Five guys,” You admit, looking back at him. He nods, silently urging you to continue while looking you up and down, his eyes slowly moving. You also don’t notice it or the small smile on his face when you don’t move away from him. “Strawberry milkshake and grilled cheeseburger.” You finished.

“No fries?” He asks and you shake your head.

“I don’t really eat fries from there,” You admit, fiddling with the skin around your nails.

“Sounds good,” He tilts his head a bit, grinning so his canines are showing. He watches as your eyes dip once and then twice to his lips before they finally stay on his face.

“It’s fucking good. An arm and a leg, but still,” Standing up, you groan and stretch. He stands up too and puts on his helmet. You watch and wait for him to dip his head down before giving his head two pats. For good luck, of course.

When he leaves, you return to your seat and look over the shop. There’s a dozen or so people inside, some people who are clearly not there for books as they’re recording those random interviews with the tiny microphones and such. You should really stop them, maybe put up a sign or something. But they’re leaving anyway. So it doesn’t really matter.

“Did you kiss?” Your sister asks, walking over to grab one of the candies.

“Girl,” Your face scrunches and she tosses the wrapper at you but it falls short.

“Just saying, seemed awfully close.” She shrugs. “I would’ve made a move on him a long time ago.”

“You’re ten.” Huffing, she huffs back and puts her hands on her hips.

“Nineteen,” She corrects. Making a talking motion with your hand, she smacks it away and throws a fireball candy at you. “That’s why you’re forty and a virgin!”

“Neither of those are true,” You stress, tossing the candy back into the bowl. “And didn’t you just get dumped by some loser who said he’d absolutely eat a turducken covered in chocolate?” She rolls her eyes and walks behind the counter to sign into work.

“I dumped him,” She corrects. “Unlike your failed relationship with the guy who wanted you to pretend to be a woman.”

“Too low,” You sigh, shaking your head. “Too low.”

—

With your lunch break in full swing, you’re upstairs in the break room watching some crappy straight-to-DVD movie your father had bought years back while eating the very sad grilled cheese when the door opens. Half expecting it to be another family member, you don’t look away from the TV and give a small hey but when no one replies you look towards the door and hum surprised to see Jason there. Even more so on who let him in

“Missed me?” You grin, watching as he closes the door behind him and rolls his eyes.

“Little delivery,” He corrects and motions for you to turn back to the movie. You do, albeit a bit hesitant to do so, but you try not to look back when you hear him getting closer. “Close your eyes, too.” He adds when you look as far back as you can without turning your head. Groaning, you cover your eyes with your hand just to prove you’re not peeking and hear him set something down on the spot next to you.

“See you next week!” He pats your back before snatching the half-eaten grilled cheese from your hand and you take it as a sign you can open your eyes. You’re not even upset he’s eating your lunch, it wasn’t good. Looking at what he had set down, you see the familiar white and red bag and crack a smile.

“You got me Five Guys?” Your head whips to the door but it’s already shutting and you can hear his heavy boots quickly running down the stairs. Turning back to the bag, you pull your phone out and scroll to find his contact.

Thank you

we feast tonight

The two of you don’t text much, mostly if he had forgotten something in the shop or given him a heads-up that the bookstore was closed for the day. Hell, his contact name is still Jason (bookstore fav). But he reads it immediately and thumbs up the last text.

This grilled cheese sucks by the way

It feels like plastic

Probably is lol

While Jason is very much a regular at the shop, you don’t really remember when he first started to frequent the shop. Just that one Sunday, you had seen the time and noticed he was late to the shop. He’d come in almost three hours later than he normally did and watched as you sighed, tossing his favorite candy at him before ushering him to the counter. He listened as you told him that next time he is late he needs to text or you’d send out an amber alert yourself.

He truly hadn’t thought anyone had noticed the change in his routine. Especially someone he only saw once a week. It had been a really shitty night for him and an ever-shitter morning, feeling like a ghost wandering through Gotham, living in a life he never should have.

He apologized with a grin and gave you his number. He also spent a little extra time in the shop, loving the familiar smell around him. He loves the bookstore more than he loves his guns, more than he loves most things really. It’s the only normal thing in his life and truly, Jason doesn’t know what he’d do without it. Without you, honestly. He’s only ever there when you are and a place is only as welcoming as the people inhabiting it.

Which is why he’d picked up the 2 am phone call so fast.

“Jason?” You whisper shout into the phone. He can hear some harsh wind and some distant shouts in the background, but it took much less than that for him to abandon his patrol and start over to you. “Shit— I’m sorry but I don’t know who else to call.” You add, the clarity hitting that during an emergency you called the guy who lived nearly half an hour away on a good day.

“It’s okay, doll,” He replies and you dare to glance behind you. Maybe they’d given up by now, but no. “What’s wrong?” He asks as you round a corner. “Where are you?” He quickly adds and you glance at the road signs.

“Uhh, heading towards Second Ave and Belcher Street. My friend's boyfriend thinks she’s cheating with me and him and his friends are chasing me,” You explain.

“Guns?” He asks, already leaving the Gotham border.

“No,” You huff, the strain of running heavy on your chest. “Just knives.”

That’s good, he tells himself. Distance is what you should be focusing on. But he knows that the regular person cannot run for nearly as long as he can and realistically, you’re bound to get tired much sooner than multiple people.

“Is there a crowd nearby?” You can hear some muffling to his voice but that’s honestly the least of your issues. “Maybe a club or hospital.” He adds when you don’t respond fast enough.

“No,” You strain. “Just apartments and shit. God, fuck! Do you think I should climb the fire escape?” There are several ahead of you, and one of them is low enough for you to grab.

“Can you?” He asks.

“Yeah— yeah,” Jumping up, you pull yourself up and start climbing up to the roof. “Shit, I’m really high up,” You pant, daring to look over the edge and see the guys climbing up. “They’re climbing up,” You tell him, quickly backing away and trying to find an exit. What type of roof doesn’t have a fucking exit?

“I’ve seen people jump from roof to roof,” You're thinking out loud at this point, trying to find some type of solution to your stupid idea. “Can’t be that hard, right?”

“Depends on the distance,” He truthfully tells you and you look at the two nearby roofs.

“Definitely too far. I’m fucked.”

“Still on Second and Blecher?” He asks and you mutter a yeah when you see them reach the roof.

“They’re up,” You mumble. “I could jump and live, yeah?” Glancing to your left, you see a dumpster and reassure yourself that you’d be fine.

“Do you think you can come back down the fire escape?” He asks. “Is there one behind the building?” Looking behind you, you let out a loud sigh.

“Yeah— yes, heading down.” Rushing down as fast as you can, you reach the ground as they’re in the middle and run back into the main road.

“Head back down the way you came,” Jason instructs. He’s only five minutes away at this point, maybe three if he tries hard enough. He just needs you to buy five more minutes.

“Okay,”

Running for what felt like an eternity, your legs are burning and your chest is tight. Maybe that one time you lied during your physical exam was coming back to bite you.

But they’re still chasing you and Jason is still guiding you. You’re sure you’re about to pass out when a motorcycle drifts in front of you.

“Red Hood?” You gape, panting. The fuck?

“Come on,” You hear him and Jason say. You’ll worry about that once you’re away from those absolute track-and-field freaks chasing you. Getting on the motorcycle, he holds your thigh with one hand before pulling off.

The ride is silent as you’re catching your breath and just making sure you’re okay in general. Aside from the insane burn in your calves, you’re fine. The ride does a lot to calm you down, by the time he reaches the shop your head is pressed to his back and you’re holding him not as tight as you were before.

“I don’t know your address,” He admits and you laugh into his back. After all that happened it’s a little humorous that your biggest issue is Jason getting your address. You give it to him and it takes him a second but he has the route mapped out before he pulls back onto the street.

“I’m staying the night.” He tells you as you get off of the bike. You don’t protest, not in the slightest. You’re far too tired to do so anyway. Instead, you wave him over and head upstairs. He tries to hide his helmet from the camera view but you tell him they don’t work.

“This guy got robbed two days ago; whole building found out the cameras are fake,” You explain while leaning against the elevator wall.

“And you feel safe?” He incredulously asks, looking you over. Even buildings in Gotham have working cameras.

“I have a gun,” You shrug while he looks at you with more of an analyzing gaze, a little surprised you’d have a gun. “And no valuables. My electronics are all secondhand for that exact reason.”

“So, steal the couch?” He jokes.

“If it can fit through the door, it’s yours!” Patting his arm, you exit the elevator and fish out your keys. Thankfully you hadn’t dropped them during the chase.

“What happened?” He asks as soon as you close and double lock the door. Looking at him, you drop your phone and keys onto the kitchen island before heading back to the door.

“My friend, Gina,” You start with a sigh, kicking your shoes off. “She used to be my beard in high school. But we never officially broke up, I guess because she posted a story saying happy six-year anniversary. With a bunch of pictures of us together. Her boyfriend saw and he’s always been…” Rolling your hand, you open your closet and grab a new outfit. “He thinks I’m lying ‘bout being gay. Because I’m too… I dunno what he thinks. But he says I don’t look gay and he’s never seen me with a guy before.” You explain with a huff. “Not my fault I’ve been single for two years, y'know. I got school and work and whatever!” Slamming the closet shut, you sigh and apologize.

“I’m gonna take a shower, feel free to snoop and prod. And take the boots off, I just moped.”

“Course,” He doesn’t move an inch as he unties his boots and walks to the shoe rack to set them down. You thank him and head into the bathroom.

“If you gotta piss or shit, go ahead. I got a curtain and a strong scent blaster plugged in.” You tell him at the doorway to the bathroom.

“Noted.” He laughs but it drops once the door closes.

He finds himself making sure the windows are locked and the curtains are properly drawn. He grabs his phone and saves your address into his personal map before he goes to check to see what type of security measures you have. And there’s not many, just a gun that’s badly hidden in your bedside table and the extra lock on the door.

But there’s not much to the apartment, the decor is extremely minimal but he remembers you talking about saving to buy a house in the countryside. Or at least outside of a city. Own land and all that.

He can’t decide if that’s good or not, there’s nothing to steal for sure, but it’s also really sad. There’s no personal touch to your apartment, it reminds him of one of his safe houses.

He settles himself into the couch once he’s checked over everything, listening to the sounds of the shower and eventually, he hears the shower turn off.

When you return to the living room in a pair of shorts, you’re a little surprised that Jason is still there.

“Bruce Wayne as Batman makes a lotta sense,” Opening the fridge, you pull out two water bottles before setting them on the counter.

“(Y/n),” Jason stops that conversation. “You should file a police report.”

“Fuck is that gonna do?” You huff, closing the fridge and opening the freezer to grab a popsicle. “Gina will hate me, cops will just forget to file it, and then I get harassed.”

“They tried to kill you,” He stresses, blocking you from moving away from the fridge. You stare at him, a little upset that he’s caring so much. You feel bad for even calling him and sending him out of his way. And now he’s staying for who knows how long. Not to mention now you know his biggest secret— a family secret at that, one that you can tell one person, and suddenly the whole world knows.

“Happens every day,” You shrug but honestly, yeah, that shit scared you. His face drops and he snatches the popsicle from your hand before tossing it on the counter to your left.

“No. Not to you. Not to most people. So what if Gina hates you afterward? Do you want a friend that’s known you since high school who would rather side with her crazy boyfriend?”

“Of course not!” You groan. “But it’s Gina. She’s always been there and— and this is a one-time thing,”

“You sound ridiculous,” He tells you as he walks out of the small kitchen and into the living room. “Trying to kill someone isn’t a fucking one-off. It’s a crime, a legit crime. Has Gina even checked if you’re okay?” He points to the phone that’s still on the counter; the same phone he knows for a fact hasn’t buzzed once.

“No.” There's no need to check your phone, you already know there’s nothing from her. She’d never text you first. He nods as if to say there’s your answer.

“Look, Jason. It was scary as fuck,” You admit. “But I’m good. And I thank you, but you should go home. I just…” Looking off to the wall. “I don’t know why I called you, I feel like shit for dragging you away from your home.”

“I was spending my night watching Harley and Ivy dry hump in front of a newly exploded power plant. You didn’t take me away from shit.” He blinks before heading to the couch. “Besides, it’s too late to drive back. I’m beat,”

“You’re lying,” You deadpan, tossing a water bottle between your hands.

“Am I?” He fake yawns, leaning back on the couch. “Can I get a blanket?” Clearly, he’s not going to leave, and it would be bad as a host to not make him comfortable. Asshole.

“Fine,” He grins as you walk away.

“Oh and Jason, Gram’s told me about the payment plan you set up. Taking advantage of a woman who can’t speak English is rude. She thinks you’re paying five dollars a week for some back dues you owe.” It was actually five hundred thousand dollars a week, which was absurd but hey, if he insists.

“It’s just nine million,” He calls back. “Not even my money and B won’t notice it’s gone.”

Just nine million, you repeat to yourself as you find a suitable blanket. It’s one of those thick fur blankets with a tiger on the front.

“The couch is a pull-out, by the way.” Heading back into the living room, you tuck the blanket under your arm. “I’ve used it like once. It’s pretty comfortable unless you want the bed.” You add, setting the blanket on the edge of the couch. There’s no coffee table, you don’t see a reason for one.

“I can sleep on gravel, doll. I’m fine, thank you.” For some reason, his eyes are having a hard time staying on your face but you’re busy walking back into the kitchen to notice.

“If you’re hungry make anything, I’m going grocery shopping in two days anyway.” Tossing the popsicle back into the freezer, you lean against the counter and watch him. It’s a little staring contest you have going on. His eyelashes are nice, real pretty boy-esque.

The silence and tension in the apartment is broken by four rapid knocks to the front door followed by a worried: “(Y/n)?”

“Gina,” You tell Jason as he’s already off of the couch and halfway to the front door by the time you stand up straight. When you walk up behind him you pause, when did he have time to grab a gun? But he’s looking through the peephole before looking back to you and holding up two fingers. You almost laugh, this isn’t some military operation; just a… friend? at your door.

“Please,” Gina says through the door. “We just— K wants to apologize,” Huffing, you look at Jason who’s standing behind the door, one hand on the top lock. He truly doesn’t want to unlock it, but it’s your apartment. Your call.

“Says who?” K snaps, his voice a lot more muffled than hers is.

“You’re going to fucking apologize.” She snaps right back.

He raises an eyebrow and you nod to the door against your better judgment. He unlocks the door and stands in front of them, really standing over them with his damn height, the arm holding the gun hidden behind the door. You can basically hear Gina pause when she sees him.

“Who are you?” Gina asks, looking him up and down.

“A friend.” He answers simply and then looks over to you. “Your friend is here.”

“Thanks, Jay.” You smile and usher him into your bedroom with two quick glances. “Gina,” You greet a little harshly as you stand at the door. “Kyle.” You look at him for only a second.

“It’s K.” He corrects.

“Can we come in?” She asks, stepping forward. “I explained everything to K and he’s sorry.” She looks back at him and he’s just standing there with this stupid look on his face.

“Is he?” You ask, looking at Kyle. “Because when he was screaming: I knew you weren’t a fag; I’m gonna cut your dick off; stop running bitch; and since you wanna pretend you’re a fag come and taste our dicks he just didn’t seem real sorry.” She cringes, he hadn’t said that part through the yelling they were doing.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” She places a hand on the door, not that you were planning on closing it just yet. “Let us in and he’ll apologize.” Sighing, you look at her and frown. Between not even texting to see if you’re okay and then coming over with the audacity to think that a fucking apology would smooth things over, you were peeved.

“You’re losing one of us tonight. Him or me.” She takes a step back and frowns, her eyebrows knitting as your words settle in her. But at that moment, you knew the friendship was over. It shouldn’t ever take that long for an answer like that.

“(Y/n), he’s sorry!” She almost shouts, shouting as if you had given her this impossible task. You want to reply, you want to yell, and to get into it then and there. But it’s no use. Your neighbors are sleeping, you’re tired, and far from a mood where you want to interact with them. As such, you close the door and put the locks back on.

She shouts some things from the other side but you’re not listening as you enter your bedroom.

Jason was standing right next to the door, startling you. If he hadn’t been so close you wouldn’t have seen him in the darkness.

“Is that a requirement for vigilantes?” You ask, clutching your chest in an exaggeration. “Y’all are fucking spooky,” Tossing yourself onto your bed, you stare up at him.

“She’s still at the door,” He ignores the comment on his family business once again. Instead, his eyes trained on your front door, watching and waiting to see what their next move is going to be. You hope for their sake it’s leaving because his hand is still on the safety of his gun.

“Not like they can get in,” You shrug, laying flat on your back. “I never give my key to anyone and it takes a full round of bullets to break the door.”

“You know that how?” He asks, setting his gun down on the dresser.

“Last year my neighbor's crazy ex tried to break in but the door didn’t budge.”

“Of course,” His head dips back into the bedroom, watching you. “Sleep, I’ll be in the living room.”

“Okay,” Turning your head to look at him, you grin. “If you get nightmares, the bed is free.” Patting the empty space, Jason rolls his eyes with a grin and leaves the room. “Your gun?” You call after him, staring at the handgun still on your dresser.

“I have two more!” He calls back.

“How the fuck?” But he doesn’t answer.

—

The next morning you wake up to the sound of the front door closing. It stirs you, really, but you’re lucid enough to realize that hey, either Jason treated you like a one-night stand or someone had broken in.

Sitting up in the bed, you collect yourself for a moment and grab his gun on your way out. While you’re surely not as keen as Jason is, you like to think you’re observant enough. The door is locked again, so you figure he didn’t leave and someone didn’t break in.

“Jason?” You turn the corner to the kitchen and see him standing with a bag of Ihop, staring at you as if he’d gotten caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“Good morning,” His eyes flicker to the gun as you set it on the counter. A part of him is proud that you were hesitant enough to bring the gun with you. “I got breakfast.”

“Aw,” You grin. “Post hate crime meal!”

“That’s an insane sentence,” He tells you, unpacking what he had gotten. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got you blueberry pancakes, french toast, eggs, and bacon. And the orange juice,” He places two boxes and a large cup of orange juice in front of you, then the straw. But you’re just focused on the fact that you know for a fact that wasn’t a random order. You’d posted about that exact order once before. Maybe a month or so ago.

“Oh,” You hum, looking at the food and then at him. “That’s sweet. Thank you.” He hums back, dropping the bag down to the floor, and takes his food. He’d gotten strawberry pancakes, hash browns, an omelet, and a coffee.

Now you feel bad for not having a coffee table.

“Wanna watch something while we eat?” You point your thumb toward the living room and he nods.

While in the middle of watching Breaking Bad, you get up to set the empty containers in the sink and the cup in the trash while Jason watches. He doesn’t really know what to do, he wants to sleep, having stayed up the entire night in case anything happened but he’s enjoying his time with you. Even if the circumstances were… less than ideal.

“Do you work today?” He asks when you’re walking back.

“Depends if my sister calls out,” Sitting, you turn your body to look at him. “I work Wednesday through Sunday, most weeks, at least.”

“Are you going to make the report?” He also turns his body to you, watching as you toss your head back and sigh.

“Probably not,” You admit, looking back at him. “It’s more effort than I care to do,” He blinks, clearly disappointed but he’s not going to push.

“You should carry a weapon.” Jason’s not really asking, he’s telling you. “How good are you with a gun?”

“Not sure,”

“You bought a gun without training for it?” He asks, slowly as if he’s waiting for you to correct him and tell him that you actually go to the gun range in your free time.

“My dad got me it when I moved out.” You shrug, feeling a little ashamed because now he’s looking at you like you’re insane. “He said I needed protection and he doesn’t believe in mace or tasers.”

“Clearly you do!” He throws his hand up towards the door. “We’re going to the gun range today.”

“Jay!” You groan, nudging his leg with your foot. He grabs it and slides you down the couch. “I’m fine.” He just hums and leans over you, it doesn’t do much. Aside from shutting you up.

He’s staring at you, his eyes unwavering from yours while you can’t seem to settle on where to look. It’s making you nervous— he’s making you nervous. The proximity isn’t the biggest issue, no the issue is the fact that you don’t mind that he’s above you, his hand right next to your head, and for fucks sake his breathing is even.

“You’re going.”

“Yup,”

—

Weirdly enough, the shooting range wasn’t in some building. No, Jason had decided to drive the hour's ride to a private lot. While normally you don’t agree to be in the middle of butt fuck nowhere without your own means of leaving, you were willing to bend your rules this one time.

He has you help with setting up the cans and the body dummies, which are incredibly lifelike. A little creepy, but whatever floats his boat, you guess. He also puts up a new target sheet on a metal wall before he returns to hand you a handgun and ear mufflers.

“Don’t hold it like that,” He blinks as you’re pointing the gun directly at your foot. You’re not a fool, you’ve played a couple of shooter games before.

“The safety is on,” You justify but point it toward the ground instead. Just to keep him happy. He just sighs and grabs his own gun, pointing it toward the dummy.

“Stand like this,” He watches you from the corner of his eye as you mimic his stance. It’s a little uncomfortable but very technical. “A little straighter.” Fixing your posture he nods and drops his stance to adjust your grip on the gun. He takes your hands and adjusts them appropriately. “It’s not accurate for beginners, but I learned this way.” He explains as he steps behind you and lowers himself to your height. It’s hard when you’re not the same six foot-five that he is, but that’s neither here nor there.

With his line of sight that is the same as yours, he raises your hands a little higher and a little to the left. You trust his judgment, you’re no fool on how accurate Red Hood is with his guns.

It's silent, so silent that you can hear him breathing even through the heavy earmuffs. Whether you like it or not, you start to stop focusing on the task at hand and on him. He smells like your soap, too. It’s a little too domestic for the setting you’re in.

“Take it off of safety,” He instructs, taking two steps away. Doing as he says, you want to roll your shoulders back but you’re worried you’d lose the position. “Go ahead.” His arms cross as he stares ahead at the dummy and you catch the flex of muscle under his shirt.

Adjusting yourself as lowkey as you can, you close one eye and press the trigger. It's harder than you would’ve thought, giving you only a moment to back out. Following through, you let the recoil push you back a little before looking at the dummy. It didn’t hit the center of the head, instead grazing over the ear.

“Close,” Jason looks over at you as you’re rubbing your shoulder but stops when you catch him looking at you. “Again?”

—

“I mean,” One of your friends, Tasha, takes a long sip of her drink. “None of us wanted to say anything but Gina is a bitch.” Frowning, you push around your food with the back of your fork. What was supposed to be your friend group's monthly putting ended up becoming a major therapy session when they noticed that Gina wasn’t there.

“Yeah,” Dante gives you a sort of frown sort of smile. “But you’d been friends with her for longer than us, so it wasn’t really our place.”

“It’s crazy that it took her boyfriend trying to kill me to realize that, though.” It felt a bit weird, she’d always been in your life, and before the whole incident, you never would’ve thought you’d be without her. But life was the same, if not better with her gone. You didn’t realize how much you didn’t need her until now and honestly, you’re just upset it didn’t happen sooner.

Especially considering all of your other friends didn’t like her.

“Speaking of,” Alex cranes her neck to look at you. “Who’s Jason?” She grins as your eyes narrow. You’re not one to divulge about your life, especially over text.

“How do you know about him?” Setting your fork down, she snorts before digging back into her meal.

“Girl, I was the Uber Eats driver.” She explains and looks to the others who are clearly out of the loop. “My first order of the day, some guy named Jason with a blank profile. Whatever, right? I pick up the Ihop order— he knows your taste, cute.” She quickly adds. “And then, I get the address. I’m just thinking (Y/n) created a fake profile. Nah, bro!” She covers her mouth to stop her laughing and to stop any potential food from flying out of her mouth.

“I knock and this tall guy with this hot face scar opens the door. If he would’ve asked I would’ve taken the tip,” And she didn’t mean money.

“Clearly he already did!” Dante cackles, watching as you drown yourself in the soda you’d ordered. The others laugh while you have to do damage control.

“Jay’s a friend who happened to be in the neighborhood when Kyle was chasing me,” The three look at each other, ever aware of the fact that you’re staring at your plate while talking. They just assume the friend part is a lie. “And he spent the night. On the couch.” You add, looking at each of them to make sure that they understand.

“And ordered you breakfast in bed. And he left a hundred-dollar tip,” Alex swirls her pasta around her fork while the others gape at the news.

“Oh girl,” Tasha looks over at you. “He got a sister?”

“Too young for your old ass!” You laugh while she pretends to be offended. “His sisters are nineteen and eighteen.” You wondered if you should add Barbra to his list of family. But you think she’s more of an acquaintance than family. But you could be wrong.

“You know his family?” Tasha’s eyebrows furrow.

“I know of his family. Never met that before.”

“Ah, waiting for the one-year mark?” Alex nods as if she had caught the drift you are trying to get at.

“Oh my god,” Rolling your eyes, you lean back in your seat.

“What? You’re acting like you’re not attracted to that man. He’s fine as hell!” Alex pushes her hair behind her ear as she talks. “Might have to revoke your gay card.”

“I never said that, it’s just…” Rubbing your hands on your pants, your face scrunches. “He could be straight.” Now, you weren’t going to deny the fact that Jason was attractive. He was the embodiment of your personal preferences, but you were a chronic overthinker with these sorts of things. To the point where it needs to be spelled out for you to get any hints.

“He got you breakfast in bed.” Dante sounds out each word, putting an equal amount of extra emphasis on it. Just to make sure it really sinks in.

“I did that for you guys before!” You defend.

“Fine— fine, how do you know him?” Tasha asks and the others nod, happily awaiting your response.

“He comes into the shop every Sunday. He’s been coming for about four years, give or take.” You shrug and they blink at each other. This is why you’re still single.

“Isn’t he the one that bought you Five Guys last month?” Dante is now physically turned to you, his eyes wide and you grumble. You never told them about that.

“You’re lying,” Alex cackles. “That’s your man and you don’t wanna admit it. Five guys is expensive.”

“How about this?” Dante rolls his hand before you can even reply to Alex. “If one of Tasha’s friends got her an expensive lunch without asking, showed up to her job every single shift for four years, stayed with her after a traumatic night, got her breakfast, and didn’t leave until she was truly safe; how much platonic energy does that give you?”

“Not a lot, but—“

“Nah,” Dante holds your hands as he speaks. “I love you, so don’t take this the wrong way but you’re stupid as fuck. He wants you.”

“He wants the books I sell. And my friendship.”

“He wants to spread something other than pages.” He shakes his head and you snort. “Ask him out, if he says no. Then I owe you a grand.”

“You don’t have a grand.” You deadpan and he nods.

“I’m so sure he’ll say yes that I’m making that bet.”

“Fine,” You huff. “But if this ruins my friendship you all owe me lunch for a month.” Surprisingly, they all agree and you settle on asking him on the upcoming Sunday. So, the very next day.

—

“Why are your friends watching you?” Your sister asks as she walks behind you to grab one of the display books and swap it for a different one.

“Don’t worry about them,” You mutter, too busy watching the window; waiting for the motorcycle to stop in front of the store. She notices, of course, and stands behind you before deciding it was time to take her break and join your friends upstairs.

Eventually, you see his motorcycle pull up and sigh, fixing your apron but stop when you hear them snickering. This whole situation was stupid, that’s what you’ve decided. But you’ve made your bed, it was time to lie in it.

Jason walks in, his eyes immediately finding yours but you’re busy ringing someone up. He grabs the basket from the front of the shop and walks around the shop until he sees the line is gone.

“Jay,” You grin, holding onto the counter.

“(Y/n),” His eyes focus on your hands for a second before he grabs a chocolate from the basket. Glancing at your friends, you fix your posture and reassure yourself. “Anything new?” Typically, you’d already be talking about what’s new but there’s just this hanging silence.

“Nah,” You shake your head but still double-check the inventory log. “But we’re getting some um… science fiction stuff next week.” He’s not too big on those, maybe once in a blue moon he’ll actually buy one. He goes to talk but your phone dings before he can open his mouth. Watching as you grab your phone, your eyes scan over a text before you huff and silence it.

“I heard about…” You trail into a whisper. “The Riddler kidnapping, you okay?” Not the best way to lead into asking someone out, but hey. Could’ve been worse.

“I’m fine,” He nods. “Arms a little sore but I’ll live.”

“Long enough to go on a date with me?” You ask, a bit quicker than you intended but thankfully your words haven’t jumped up. He laughs, his eyes closing and you falter, glancing up at your friends for some type of support.

“That was a bold transition,” He settles himself down. “When are you free?”

“Oh shit, for real?” You grin. “I’m free Monday. Or whenever you are, really. My shifts are pretty flexible,”

“I’ll pick you up Monday,”

“I asked you on the date,” You huff. “I’m picking you up.” He crosses his arms and his eyes lower into a sort of unamused expression.

“You’ll pick me up, from Gotham?” He asks, just to make sure you know what you’d be signing up for. Truthfully, you hadn’t. And as such, you weigh your options— you don’t even have a car to offer to pick him up in. Damn.

“Fine, Monday at eight.” Giving in, he nods and glances around the shop.

“I don’t need a book today, see you tomorrow.” He looks you up and down, this time you watch as his eyes slowly drag down and tilt your head.

“Looking like you already wanna kiss me, Jay.” You joke as his eyes reach yours again.

“Since you offered.” He grins and sneaks one single kiss that lasts less than a second.

“I get off in thirty,”

#x male reader #x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x male reader

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hi-i-love-u-bitch · 1 year

Text

Okay I see your "if Hobie and Noir meet they would be besties and punch nazis together" and I totally agree with that! But also consider:

Hobie is Spider Noir's biggest fanboy!

Like in the comics he's like a HUGE Gwen Stacy stan and he's such a goofy little dork about it. In ATSV him and Gwen's relationship is more like chill friends, and I'm okay with that. But I think it be so funny that when Hobie was recruted into Spiderverse society and Miguel was showing him all the other universes with the different Spiderman variants he pauses by the computer screen with that one gritty black and white universe cuz he just saw some guy in a fedora and trench coat PUNCH A FUCKING NAZI!!! WHO IS THAT GUY?!?! HE'S SO COOL!!!

He asks Miguel a million and one question about the guy and when the old grump annoyingly shoos him away he asks Peter as he briefly met him during that one incident in Miles is dimension. When that still isn't enough he asks Lyla to tell him everything she knows on Noir. Now obviously Lyla has no obligation to do this but she's also never seen Hobie this giddy and excited over something other then music. Its adorable, he's almost like a little kid wanting to know everything about their favorite cartoon. Also she low key likes to annoy Miguel and Hobie's rebellious spirit that gets under her straight laced boss is skin which is hilarious.

You know when Gwen first met Hobie she was a bit intimated cuz he just had that "too cool" vibe about him. But as soon as she mentions that she has worked with other Spider people before, which includes Noir, he did a whole 180 and became a complete dork!

Hobie: Get out, you actually met him! 🤩

Gwen: Uh, yeah?

Hobie: How was he like? What did he say? Did he talk about fascist corruption that not only plagued the system back then but even now as well? Was he super cool during the fight?! 😃🤩💫😻

Gwen: ..........He was nice.

Hobie: That's so rad! ✨️🤟🤩

I also feel like, aside from Miles, Gwen keeps in contact with the other Spider peeps from the first movie and tried to recruit them into the Spider society but obviously Noir and Porker didn't join. Porker because he’s a cartoon that follows "toon logic" and Miguel's ideologies are too serious for his taste. And Noir because, and I quote: "The last I heard of a secret society designed to 'keep the peace for the greater good of humanity at any cost' a whole world war came about it. I know fascism when I see it, kid."

Gwen relays that message to Hobie when explaining why Noir isn't joining and Hobie's response to that is: "He gets it! He just like me fr! 😭💕"

I think it be really cute that in the next movie when they finally meet Hobie is kinda awkward and shy. Like this guy has never respected an adult in his life (at least not any that didn’t deserve the disrespect) and with Noir his all like "Hello sir" "How are you sir" "It's very nice to meet you sir!" And Noir is actually just a really nice guy if a little broody but he's heard so much about this kid from Gwen and how much of a good friend he's been to her so Noir already likes him on principle.

Hobie: Uh Mr. Noir-- Parker, sir! It is such an honor to meet you! The work you do in your universe is amazing and I hope to learn more while working alongside you however briefly.

Noir: Ah, Peter is just fine really, or Noir if it gets to confusing. No need to be so formal, we're all on equal footing here. I've heard a lot about you and your world as well from Gwen. Although it does sadden me that such a young man has to take on the burden of saving the world from such a corrupt society yet again, you're going about it quite well. War is hard and ugly and violent but you are amazingly brave to be able to stand up for what is right in the face of it all. If anybody is honored here it is me, for being able to meet such a remarkable young man like you. And knowing that my friends have made such honorable allies in the midst of all this chaos.

Hobie, externally: Yeah, it's whatevs 😎

Hobie, internally: Dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry dont cry YOURE GUNNA LOOK SO UNCOOL IF YOU CRY IN FRONT OF HIM NOW 😭💕😭💕😭

I just think it be really cute if they had a wholesome father-son sort of relationship where they shit talk corrupt government systems and punch fascists together. You know, regular father-son bonding!

(Also I think that's another reason Miguel didn't invite Spider Noir to the Spiderverse, cuz he knew that both of these menaces together would cause a bigger headache than its worth 🤣🤣🤣)

#spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv #spider noir #spider punk #hobie brown #DO NOT TAG AS SHIP!!#father son relationship #spiderman #bunny talks #headcannons #hobie brown is a dork and we should all accept that #Noir is adopting ALL the colorful spider children

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teyamsatan · 1 year

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my andra baby 💕 a thought just crossed my mind, and if there's anyone who can write it, it's you. imagine neteyam and you using the throat microphone device one night, getting all needy and talking dirty, thinking no one else can hear you when suddenly, you’re interrupted by lo'ak, who accidentally fell asleep with the device on and is regretting all his life decisions upon hearing you two. just imagine 🥴

my lana the fact you came to me??? :((( i will cry real tears, i hope you enjoy my love x

also wow, that did things to me right before bed, my GAWD

wc: 950 words

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up!neteyam x reader, smut, strong language, phone sex, the tragic realisation that someone heard your phone sex, that's about it.

Na’vi compendium: tìyawn - love, tìlor - beauty

Being in a secret situationship with a Na’vi, the Na’vi, your beautiful, strong, tall, blue, mouthwatering Neteyam… it had its moments. So many moments, so many good, good moments that made your eyes roll in the back of your head at the mere memories of them and your back arch in futile anticipation and ruin yet another pair of lace panties at the image of his body hovering over yours, his length slipping past your dripping folds, filling you up until you were so full you finally felt whole.

Being with Neteyam also had its challenges and conundrums, and the one that bothered you the most in the moment is your desperate ache for relief that only he could give, that he demanded only he provide for you. Neteyam was an overachiever, and he always aimed to please, and please you he did with every opportunity that presented itself, with every opportunity he made for himself. Neteyam heard a quote from Norm once that went something like “I am a man of fortune, and I must seek my fortune.” Neteyam always took that to heart, ever since he was a child, and he never took it more seriously than when he talked about the fortune of being in between your legs.

Alas, he wasn’t here, much like he couldn’t be most days, your biological differences enough to keep you from each other in two places that felt like worlds apart, especially tonight. But, with a smirk, you picked up the little radio choker and receivers quietly resting on your nightstand, that were intended and created for entirely different purposes, but which came in handy in… sticky situations like this one.

Sprawled on your mattress, a hand softly reached for one of your breasts, caressing it softly, catching one bud in between your thumb and index fingers and pinching, imagining it was his touch instead, the one you craved like air. The other hand went to the button resting on the choker, and with a slight pressure, you pushed it, whispering into it.

“Neteyam… are you still awake?”

You knew everyone would be asleep so far into the night, and none of them wore their radios to bed, except for one person, the one person whose tent you’d much rather be in right now, whose voice would have to suffice in this moment that seemed to drag on forever.

“What are you doing up so late, tìyawn?” Neteyam knew very well the answer to his own question, his voice almost a purr as his imagination of your state, the vision of your naked body all on display on your bed rushed the blood to his now rock hard cock, that was begging for a hand around it, for any release, as it was tugging at his loincloth uncomfortably.

“I need you, Teyam.”

“What do you need from me, baby?”

“Y-you… your touch, your voice. Please.”

“Does my pretty girl need me to make her cum? Do you need me to tell you all the ways I’d fuck you until your body trembled and writhed under me?

Your loud, inhibited moans egged him on, and with a soft, languid bob of his fisted fingers on his length, he continued.

“How I’d start off slowly, kissing your irresistible lips and your neck, down your collarbones and chest, how I’d suck on those amazing tits until they bruised, until I marked you, how i’d move slowly south, down your navel and your hips until I’d settle in between your thighs. Fuck, those thighs, and that pussy, they could drive a man to his knees, my love. If I ever for a second doubted Eywa, all that doubt would vanish looking at you, at your body, and the way it reacts to me, because no chance of the universe could have created something as perfect as you by accident.”

His words made you mewl into the mic, as your fingers found your folds, that were dripping in your slick as pressure build in your core, and while your touch wasn’t his, not as skilled nor as yearned for, it helped you build upon the imagery he created to reach the peak that would drive you to indescribably pleasures, that you would still share with him, despite the distance.

“Do you want me to tell you what a good girl you are as you’re taking my cock, in that pretty pussy, in your perfect mouth? What do you need, tìlor? To hear my groan as you squirt all over me, as you coat my tongue in your sweet juices? Is this what you need, pretty girl?”

Neteyam was pumping his cock harder and faster with each second he was picturing you in these scenarios that you’ve been in a thousand times before, in all the positions he would make you cum in, with each second he heard the whines and moans escaping your lips, and all the enticing noises as you were fingering yourself dumb, imagining it was him doing it instead.

“Neteyam, I’m - fuck! So c-close!”

“Me too, baby girl. You want to let go for me? Be a good girl and co-“

“COME THE FUCK ON!!! YOU DO REALISE THIS IS A FREQUENCY THAT THE WHOLE FAMILY HAS ACCESS TO, YOU PERVERTS?! I WAS HAVING A BEAUTIFUL DREAM ABOUT RIDING AN IKRAN AND IT TURNED INTO A TERRIFYING NIGHTMARE ABOUT YOU TWO RIDIN-“

You turned off the radio before Lo’ak could finish a sentence that you were sure was going to be the driving nail in your coffin of embarrassment, that might as well have been made out of lead, because you didn’t think you were ever coming out.

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @yagirlheree

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elizais · 5 months

Text

puppy love

dazai finding out about / meeting your dog dazai x fem!reader (not in a relationship but there is something) sfw/fluff

osamu dazai was not blind. he noticed the way when you were out you would pet the cats on the street, the way animals came up to you for attention (when atsushi first met you, he assumed your ability was to do with animals). or maybe it was the fact that most people's mugs at work were quotes, plain colours or the initial of their first name but yours had prints of dogs on them. yet for some reason, it wasn't until you left early one day and he asked kunikida why and kunikida simply responded "her dog has an appointment at the vets. get back to work, dazai." and for an unknown reason, for someone so head over heels for you, he hadn't known of your furry companion.

"yeah, she said its a normal booster or something." atsushi chimed in next to dazai, keeping his eyes on the paperwork he was doing. and while dazai wasn't overly vocal about it. he disliked dogs. but since you had one, he could feel his opinion starting to sway. he never was keen on dogs, maybe it was the fact that they were loyal to anyone who shown them love and affection, naive and didn't care about your past. he was far from an animal lover, he wouldn't say he hates them, just that he couldn't be fond of them. maybe he just never had someone (albeit an animal) devote their life to being loyal to you despite what you've done, what you look like, how much money you have etc.

the next day came around and the day was normal for you. everyone came in, greeting one another, the usual. you sat at your desk by the window, kyouka walks up to you, asking "y/n, is (dog's name) alright?" quietly, but loud enough for people to be distracted from their mindless work. "of course he is, it was just an appointment i couldn't reschedule so i had to go earlier." you spoke in return. your kind smile making her smile. "kyouka, i thought you didn't like dogs?" atsushi pondered from next to dazai. "i don't, i like (dog's name) though. y/n took him on a walk with me when i was upset a few weeks ago." kyouka answered atsushi. dazai was uncharacteristically quiet, thinking about this dog he only found out about recently.

in a weeks time, the agency was going to eat out somewhere, the social fund had money in it for a nice dinner. you all agreed that meeting at someone's place to wait before the reservation was ideal. that place just so happened to be your apartment, large enough to accommodate everyone comfortably, and close to the restaurant. when the date came, everyone would arrive at yours, spend some time there and then arrive together as this restaurant doesn't like reserved guests arriving one at a time.

and then, the sunday everyone had off, you cleaned your apartment and waited. you expected yosano and ranpo to arrive first, in all honesty. them being the two you are with the most. but, at quarter to six, osamu dazai walks through the elevator that leads up to the apartment. using the code you sent to the work group chat. "y/n! i didn't know the agency gives out places like this to the detectives?" he asked teasingly, well aware you paid for this all yourself with your hard earned money. "maybe i'm just fukuzawa's favourite!" you retorted back with a wink, walking towards him as he hung up his coat on the stand. "make yourself at home, 'zai" you called him by the nickname strictly for him. the same one that came from you both being stuck at the office on a late night, the day after your entrance exam. it became the nickname only you can call him after you were drinking water, he made you laugh and as you were trying to say "dazai" you started coughing uncontrollably whilst laughing and could only say half of his last name. it just stuck!

the man in your living space reached for the remote, flicking on whatever as you said you just need to finish your hair. he would have said "you already look stunning", but he could only think it. osamu's suit was the nicest he had, navy blue with a white shirt. he leaned back on your couch as he put on whatever was playing on a channel, he would much rather talk to you instead. that was when a four-legged, furry body with a tail came over. the dog sniffed him down thoroughly like he was airport security. dazai looked down at him. "a rather large dog, doesn't look like one for protection though.. very shiny coat." he thought before his mind jogged enough for it to click that this was the pooch everyone else knew about. you walked back in, "(dog's name)! is that any way to greet a guest?" you spoke to the canine. dazai chuckled before mustering up his courage and rubbing the dog's head. "is this the famous guy i have been hearing about all week? he has been awfully popular at work as of late." dazai questioned.

"yes he is! i always thought you didn't like dogs 'zai?" you smiled at him "i'm not really an animal person, never had one so.. you know." he explained, not feeling like he needed to explain any further than that. (dog's name) laid down by osamu's feet. "he likes you, don't worry." you responded whilst looking at the tv.

atsushi and kyouka walked in together as soon as you finished your sentence. you waved hello as atsushi nodded with a smile and kyouka greeted you with a hug. the whole agency knew how much kyouka looked up to you, and how your dynamic was of an older sister and a younger sister. kyouka ran up to your dog as he got up to greet her, familiar with the girl. before atsushi and kyouka could say hi to dazai: kunikida, junichiro, kenji, ranpo, and fukuzawa walked in. every one of you greeted those who just arrived, before junichiro spoke "yosano, naomi and haruno are coming together. they will be here soon." you served them drinks and gave ranpo his specially reserved snacks, complimenting everyone on their attire.

everybody sat in your large living space, amongst your chairs and sofas. you and kyouka sat together as you spoke about the films you sent her to watch. your favourite being an old school romcom, dazai made a mental note to watch it later as he spoke to the guys but half listened to your conversation. yosano and naomi walked in and got a mixture of greetings from everyone as they looked up to the sound of the elevator door opening. yosano saw you and dazai up and walking towards your kitchen space, giving you a wink only you saw. she knew of your feelings that were kept incredibly secret.

"y/n? where did your dog go?" dazai asked as all conversations around the room merged into one and you were both up getting more water. "he probably went to another room, he isn't keen on loud noises so sudden big groups of new people aren't his favourite thing." you answered simply, before adding "why?" to your statement. dazai simply answered "you know what, y/n, i think dogs are growing on me."

as you finished your glass of water, kunikida spoke up "we should start heading over.. is everyone ready?" a mix of hums and agreements floated around the room as everyone stood up and grabbed their coats. "akiko? naomi? kyouka? do you want to come in my car?" you were saying as dazai subtly slipped away into the spare room (dog's name) was in. not noticing his disappearance as you focused on the car arrangements.

on his short walk over, he realised how much you really loved that dog. he kneeled down to where the dog was laying down and whispered as he stroked his head "i suppose i can settle for 2nd place to you, (dog's name)" before walking out to see kunikida waiting for him. "have you said anything to y/n yet, dazai?" kunikida asked, knowing of how dazai felt before seeing dazai shake his head. "can i drive though?" dazai asked with a grin "zero chance." kunikida quickly spoke, certain of the answer to that question being no. sighing, "for someone like you, you should be smart enough to see her glances right back to you." kunikida spoke, before gesturing to the elevator to try and communicate to the man in front of him who was clearly in shock.

but, in your car, as kyouka was finishing saying something quickly to the boys in the other car, waiting for kunikida and dazai, akiko asked with a wink "so, have you planned anything with dazai yet?". to which you pulled a face and said "not yet."

as if fate pulled some strings, at the restaurant a certain someone was sat next to you. as you went up to go to get the sauces, he slipped a note in your purse.

"i think (dog's name) would love a walk down to the pier tomorrow night. - 'zai"

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #armed detective agency #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader

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pixiecactus · 2 months

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i don't ship jonrya (gendrya it's the one for me tbh) but i swear it bothers me so much that people in this fandom like to discard jonrya like something absurd, that really has no foundation in the books (i can only think of one jon's ships that is like this and it's not jonrya let me tell you) when we have time and time again in both of arya and jon's chapters actually shown how they are so devoted to eachother, making one of the strongest bonds in the entire series, even if you don't take the og outline (jonrya endgame) in consideration:

in agot:

"And Arya…he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had…yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him."

and:

"She would have given anything if Jon had been here to call her “little sister” and muss her hair."

in acok:

"When at last she slept, she dreamed of home. The kingsroad wound its way past Winterfell on its way to the Wall, and Yoren had promised he’d leave her there with no one any wiser about who she’d been. She yearned to see her mother again, and Robb and Bran and Rickon . . . but it was Jon Snow she thought of most. She wished somehow they could come to the Wall before Winterfell, so Jon might muss up her hair and call her “little sister.” She’d tell him, “I missed you,” and he’d say it too at the very same moment, the way they always used to say things together. She would have liked that. She would have liked that better than anything."

and:

"As he rode, Jon peeled off his glove to air his burned fingers. Ugly things. He remembered suddenly how he used to muss Arya’s hair. His little stick of a sister. He wondered how she was faring. It made him a little sad to think that he might never muss her hair again. He began to flex his hand, opening and closing the fingers. If he let his sword hand stiffen and grow clumsy, it well might be the end of him, he knew. A man needed his sword beyond the Wall."

their current companions remind them of eachother:

“NO!” Arya and Gendry both said, at the exact same instant. Hot Pie quailed a little. Arya gave Gendry a sideways look. He said it with me, like Jon used to do, back in Winterfell. She missed Jon Snow the most of all her brothers.

and romantic interests too:

Ygritte trotted beside Jon as he slowed his garron to a walk. She claimed to be three years older than him, though she stood half a foot shorter; however old she might be, the girl was a tough little thing. Stonesnake had called her a “spearwife” when they’d captured her in the Skirling Pass. She wasn’t wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but “spearwife” fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs and skins she wore.

and i want to end with one of my favourite arya's quotes:

“I know where we could go,” Arya said. She still had one brother left. Jon will want me, even if no one else does. He’ll call me “little sister” and muss my hair. It was a long way, though, and she didn’t think she could get there by herself. She hadn’t even been able to reach Riverrun. “We could go to the Wall.”

so... no, the idea of jon x arya is not strange at all actually

#there's a lot of more moments in the books but i'm lazy sorry #as a gendrya shipper if jonrya it's actually the books endgame i'm going to be so happy for them #and as a gendrya shipper somedays i can´t help to think that jonrya has to much potential for gendrya to actually happen (one of my fears)#but in the end jonrya are eachothers person (soulmates if you will)#and term that can be romantic or platonic #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #house stark #arya stark #jon snow #gendry #jonrya #ygritte #anti sansa stans #anti jonsa stans #anti jonsa #even typing that anti tag makes me want to vomit #like jon(🙂) and here comes the vomit sa(🤮)

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hannigramislife · 5 months

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for my own gratification bc i just ran into nie mingjue hate in the wild, would you mind making a post that defends my poor good boy? he worked so hard and got gaslit to shit before getting murdered terribly ;; literally everyone sat there telling him "youre being too harsh" and he's just responding appropriately. like yeah, if you witness a murder, ya kinda got to do something about that as a clan leader. its kinda your responsibility, even when you care about the person who did the murdering. he was also a really young when he took on the role of clan leader and idk, it just made me rlly sad to see people dunk on him cuz wtf he's literally just trying his best in an impossible situation WHILE being perpetually fucked over by his clan's own traditional cultivation cuz now the stronger he is as a leader, the closer he is to going literally insane and dying bc of it. (mingjue did nothing wrong i will die on this hill) ((sorry for going on a tirade, im just sad and defensive of my good boy rn))

Oh no! I'm so sorry you had to go through Nie Mingjue hate! Truly tragic. I went through that once when in the beginning of me reading the books, when I still had no proper opinions, and never again.

I'm more than willing to make a post about Nie Mingjue! I'm always down to talk about Nie Mingjue tbh, he's my heart and love and if I were to have been given the opportunity to be his right hand person, I would have simply never betrayed his trust and married him. Rip Jin Guangyao but I'm different.

Anyways, I, huhhh, actually think you?? Covered it all??? Pretty much?? Yet I will talk about it. This will be long and non-coherent, because I don't have the books rn to find quotes in them and honestly, I could write essays on Nie Mingjue either way.

Nie Mingjue is a central piece of the narrative, despite the limited amount of appearances he made, and the fact that he wasn't close to the main characters at all. The entire second part of the plot revolves around him- it happened because of him. His murder is a tragedy; literally, by greek standards, man has Cassandra Curse all over him, so I don't get how people can tell me, confidently, that his death was warranted. I've been told the man had asked for it, and this has mostly been by Jin Guangyao apologists.

So let me make something real fucking clear.

Nie Mingjue did not deserve to die. Let's get that out of the way, anyone can fight me on that. Nie Mingjue had more good qualities than half the people in this fucking story, despite his flaws. After his father was brutally murdered when Mingjue was only in his teens, Nie Mingjue stepped up as clan leader. We can only speculate the hardships that await someone leading a clan at such an early age. Yet, political challenges weren't the only thing he had to battle; Nie Mingjue knew about his clan's harmful cultivation, and he knew he was going to die young. So what did he do? His best. Literally his best, always. He was always giving 100% of his abilities, because that's who he was.

Let's talk about who Nie Mingjue was, shall we?

When Jin Guangyao, still Meng Yao then, describes Nie Mingjue, he finds himself perplexed, because Nie Mingjue isn't like other men. He is not frivolous, and he has no vices; Meng Yao describes how Nie Mingjue never showed an interest in arts, or alcohol, or women. All he did was train, and fight the Wens during the war. It shows that he had a one-track mind from the start, and has got a strict discipline; yet this strictly disciplined man, leader of a clan that prizes strength, continuously indulges his lazy and undisciplined half-brother, his one and only heir, despite not understanding his interests. We gather, pretty quickly, that Nie Mingjue is a bleeding heart for his brother, and for the ones he loves in general. We see the same softer side displayed in the presence of Lan Xichen, and of course, for some time, Meng Yao.

People seem to think Nie Mingjue took Meng Yao's betrayal too harshly. As if somehow seeing a man he thought to have been just and honest commit premeditated murder, then cover it up, was something he was just supposed to get over. To this day, I can't believe how Lan Xichen was so understanding of it. But not only did Nie Mingjue catch him in a cowardly act - Meng Yao proceeds to manipulate him, using the fact that Nie Mingjue cared about him, to stab him in the back. Or front, however it happened. I get that Meng Yao was in a difficult position, that he suffered at the Jins, that he felt backed in a corner; but Nie Mingjue was a man that had extended his help to Meng Yao before, and even then, he went to find Meng Yao in righteous fury, ready to help him again. To Nie Mingjue, the idea that Meng Yao "had no other choice" but to kill - to kill in the manner he did - it could have been nothing but a betrayal.

One thing that I personally highly respected Nie Mingjue for was the fact that he did not judge Meng Yao for his background. This is not up for debate; Nie Mingjue stood up for him, quite publicly, quite vocally, when Meng Yao was being insulted over it. And not only that, but he promoted Meng Yao to be his right hand man, just like that. Because he's impulsive, and to prove a point, but it was still huge of him to do. Not even Lan Xichen would have done that - In a society built on power dynamics between social classes, Nie Mingjue was one of the few characters who did not let that define his actions. It wasn't because he was born privileged (though he was) but because he he didn't let anything other than his judgment direct his actions. Nie Mingjue also never shied away from anything; if it had to be done, he did it, no matter the cost.

Nie Mingjue was decisive, and had an iron will. When Meng Yao killed the Nie disciples in Qishan, he wanted to kill Meng Yao. Meng Yao told him, paraphrasing, that "don't you understand that if I hadn't done that, it would have been your corpse up there?" and Wei Wuxian takes it to mean "Translation: I saved you so you can't kill me, because that would mean you're in the wrong." So Nie Mingjue hesitated for a second, then said: "Fine! I'll kill you, and then take my own life!" And the only reason he didn't, was because Lan Xichen was there. Otherwise, Nie Mingjue would have killed his former friend, then followed him to whatever afterlife awaited.

Nie Mingjue is often portrayed like he doesn't understand stuff, like he's stupid, simply because of his black and white sense of morality. That's not correct: Nie Mingjue understands motive, but he doesn't accept the ends justifying the means. Scratch that, he doesn't accept or justify either, if they're unjust. The murder of the Jin commander, the murder of the Nie disciples, not executing Xue Yang - how can Nie Mingjue possibly understand Meng Yao's decisions, when Nie Mingjue would rather die, any day, than live thanks to vile actions?

And then, Nie Mingjue starts falling into qi-deviation. We know that it affected his temper the most, and his judgement. I don't understand how it works, really, so I don't know by the end how much was Nie Mingjue and how much was the mess that the spirit made of him - maybe a combination of the two. But what is certain, is that the rapid qi deviation changed him.

But I could write a hundred more pages on him, meticulously going over every single scene he has ever appeared in, because I find him that interesting. I find him the most interesting, and the most appealing character, because in a story where the navigation of the cultivation world's complex politics and hierarchies with tact and diplomacy is crucial, Nie Mingjue stands uncompromising in his principles, choosing duty and honor over anything else, even when it's hard.

#the untamed #mdzs #cql #mo dao zu shi #nie mingjue #nie mingjue had his flaws #and he had his virtues #i will not allow slander on his name #when he always did what he thought was best and just and good #when he was loving and kind and hot-headed but he was also just in his early 20s with the weight of the world on his shoulders #cold absolutely freezing day in hell when i'm over him

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thursdayinspace · 2 months

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Mulder in "Little Green Men" (s2ep1). He's so lonely. What's interesting to me is the contrast to Mulder from the pilot and Mulder here. We got an idea in the pilot of how lonely he must be, but he had been on his own for a while and that was his default. Seeing him at the beginning of s2 is heartbreaking. At the begining of s1 he was so used to being alone. But now . . . Of course the fact that the x files have been closed is getting to him, but it also becomes so obvious how much he has come to rely and depend on having Scully around, on working with someone. With her.

Their meeting in the parking garage -- he feels like he has lost his purpose, even doubts his memories and his experiences, he feels like everything they've been through hasn't been worth it because they've accomplished nothing. We don't know how or if he would have managed to surface from that eventually on his own. Most likely he would have. But it might have taken him a long time. It's Scully who doesn't let him give up: "During your time with the X-Files, you've seen so much." / "Even if George Hale only saw elves in his mind, the telescope still got built. Don't give up. And next time we meet out in the open." (Which becomes a recurring theme over the years, all the way up to the revival. But that would deserve its own post.) (The way she touches his hair before she leaves though. <3)

What kills me in this episode is Mulder recording his tape for Scully in Puerto Rico: "Deep Throat said "Trust no one." And that's hard, Scully, suspecting everyone, everything. It wears you down. You even begin to doubt what you know is the truth. Before, I could only trust myself. Now, I can only trust you, and they've taken you away from me." I mean, compare that to pilot Mulder? Not trusting anyone was what he did. That was Mulder. He may or may not have been showing off a little bit for Scully, but he seemed to have made quite a home for himself in his lone wolf existence (out of necessity). He can't do that anymore. He needs something to hold onto. And he had that in his partnership with Scully.

Also. THEY'VE TAKEN YOU AWAY FROM ME. Can we take a second to appreciate what that means? He knows she would not have chosen to leave. He believes that. He trusts her absolutely. She's become a lifeline for him. Put that together with his quote from the end of the episode: "I may not have the X-Files, Scully, but I still have my work. And I’ve still got you. And I still have myself." The order of those statements seems important: He thought he had lost his purpose in the beginning of this episode. He wasn't even sure whether or not he still believed in it. Now he has motivation again.

And he has Scully. She stuck around, not just because of the work. When he was at his lowest, she arranged secret meetings for them, told him not to give up, even followed him all the way to Puerto Rico. He doesn't believe she'd have chosen to leave if the x files hadn't been closed, but I don't think he was sure she'd stick around forever without a reason. But she's relentless in her loyalty and friendship -- a trait he recognizes because it's one they share. He will never choose to leave her, and is allowing himself to trust that she's still there because she wants to be.

Finally, he's also got himself. Among all the things he'd lost at the beginning of the episode, the biggest loss was himself. But he was mourning everything except that. Those "good riddance @ former me" vibes were strong at the beginning of the episode -- and of course they were a form of grief. But it almost feels like he wanted to punish himself, blame himself for everything that went wrong. (That is also something we keep seeing. The show has amazing continuity with things like that. Things get to him. He takes failure really hard. He's not gentle with himself.) So this is the culmination of the previous two points: he has his purpose back, and he has someone who cares about him, who has his back, someone he loves (and I am going to use that term here even if it's debatable how aware they are of their feelings at this point; there are so many forms of love, and I think it's not up to debate that they love each other in some way, possibly even a way they may not even know about yet).

It's such a strong episode for him, and I love all the ways it mirrors the pilot and contrasts the Mulder from back then with the Mulder a year later. So much has happened, and neither he nor Scully are the same people they were, and that's life. It's so well done.

#txf #the x files #fox mulder #it has flaws but overall I love it #I mean he could have had a small moment of surprise #when she suddenly showed up in fucking PUERTO RICO #that's not exacly walking distance #but otoh it's kind of funny that he's just like OH HI SCULLY ALIENS ARE REAL!!!#thursday's x-files rewatch

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riize119 · 6 months

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Soulmate! Eunseok ｡𖦹°⊹₊⋆

You and Eunseok grew up as next door neighbors for years, so it was only natural that you both were best friends

• With the countless times that you both tease or argue with each other over petty things, there were times where you were each other's rock in times of need, and you never seemed to be apart from each other

• Which made you think that maybe he was your soulmate

• But it really couldn't be that simple. Some people take years to find their soulmates, and you doubt that your fate would be so perfect

• And on the day of your 18th birthday, the quote of your soulmate appeared on your body.

• It took you a while to notice that it was on your ribs, and you had to read it in the mirror to be able to make out what it said

• Now, the quote is supposed to be something significant and memorable, which it was, but you can't seem to think about who would say “I stole his cheese fries,” when it would happen…and why?

• Your mind immediately thinks of Eunseok, because stealing someone else’s food seems to be his forte

• But deciding not to wrack your mind any further, you let fate takes its course, as it obviously would anyway

• And a year passed with not even a sign that your soulmate is near, but you just continued living as you did, not worrying too hard because you had someone to share the seeking experience with

• You didn't tell Eunseok about what your quote said, and he only told you that his quote wasn't anything special and didn't really stand out much

• So you both have just been waiting around, even joking about when and where and who it'd be

• "What if it were your history professor?" He asked, laughing at the thought as you both walked towards the cafeteria on campus

• "Please stop talking.” you told him, shaking your head as you were disturbed by the thought

• He just laughed again before going up to order his food, and you found Shotaro at a table nearby

• He looked up from his phone and smiled

• "Are you gonna eat?" He asked

• "No, I'm just gonna wait until I get home. I don’t want to feel lethargic during our two hour long lecture” you sigh, taking a seat across from him

• “Yeah, I know the feeling" he says, before looking past you with a questioning look at Eunseok and Sunghan

• "Why do you look annoyed?" Shotaro asked

• Sunghan, who sat his tray down and picked up a french fry, just stared at it before shooting a glare at Eunseok

• Eunseok sat next to you, a broad smile on his face as he answered for Seunghan

• "I stole his cheese fries. They were the last ones up there and they just ran out but I got to them before he did" he said

• "You didn't even like them until I got them last time!" Seunghan said back to him, clearly dissatisfied with his plain fries

• And it took you a second to realize that what Eunseok had said was what you had quoted on your body

• Cutting into their little argument, you turned to him, wide-eyed

• "I knew it was you!" you said excitedly

• And within a second, Eunseok’s eyes light up and the smile already on his face seemed to get bigger

• "Wow...cheese fries? That’s what’s written on your body?"

• "Well…yes. And you were right about your quote being pretty basic” you said, and he just shrugged

• "Doesn't matter to me. Thank god it didn't last any longer than this though, or I would've been driven crazy" Eunseok says, reaching for your hand under the table

• "What? I’m sorry, what just happened?” you heard Shotaro pipe up from across the table, total confusion sketched across his face

• “Y/N and I are soulmates thanks to Seunghan’s almost cheesy fries” Eunseok answered

"Thanks, Seunghan" You said, noticing his mood go from irritated to excited

"Wow. I've never seen soulmates mesh before. I'm glad I could be of help" he joked, but then not-so-jokingly told Eunseok that he had to buy him fries next time

• "Okay! I get it, I owe you" He laughed, relishing in the moment, eating with his right hand and holding yours hand in his left

• While Shotaro and Seunghan started their own side conversation, Hangyul whispered to you

• "I think we should skip our next lectures and go home to tell our parents"

• "Yeah. But they'll just say 'we told you so' and talk about how great we seemed with each other since we were little"

• "But they weren't wrong" he replied as you leaned into his side

• "You're right. I bet they wouldn't have thought cheese fries would have been the reason why though"

• "Honestly...I don't think it'd surprise them to hear it"

• You think about it before nodding

• "That's true."

• "Hey, this means I can kiss you now, right?

• "NOT here” Shotaro pleaded, a look of what seemed like despair his face

• And you almost laughed before you both said your goodbyes and left to your cars to go back home

• But not before he got to kiss you …..a lot

• A shared thought finally come to life for the both of you

• And the thought you had that fate wouldn't be on your side couldn't have been more wrong

#eunseok #riize eunseok #riize au #riize imagines #riize x reader #eunseok scenarios #riize scenarios #kpop imagines #eunseok au #eunseok imagines

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madame-wilsonn · 2 years

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Hold me, love me, touch me

(Be the first who ever did)

MASTERLIST

Request: "it’s breaking my heart to see you like this" - maybe for Tommy? — @thesoldiersminute

Summary: If you hold me without hurting me / You’ll be the first who ever did

or: after running away from Grace’s funeral, Tommy finds some comfort in your arms

A/N: this is veryyyy different to what I usually post but i’ve had this idea for so long!! It’s inspired by a few scenes from the show as well as a few LDR songs. I would just like to add this quote from California because it fits the story well:

You don't ever have to be stronger than you really are When you're lying in my arms, baby You don't ever have to go faster than your fastest pace Or faster than my fastest cars

Also big big big thank you to my pal @hauntedheathcliff and my bg @huntingingoodwill for helping me out, i don’t think i would have finished and posted it if they weren’t here!! this is the first very long one shot i post, I hope you all enjoy because i’ve been working really hard on this and i think i got too attached to it oops…anyway have fun!! <3

Warnings: mentions of death, war and just angst overall; a bit of fluff (old habits die hard)

Word count: 6,464 words

Thunder rumbled. Its echo reverberating on the tall trees.

Tommy could almost hear it.

The grieving sky screaming. The leaves whispering. Murmuring the same haunting chant over and over.

She’s dead. He killed her. She’s dead. He killed her.

His vision blurred. For an instant, he thought he was finally crying until he noticed the rain. It was raining.

A drop. Then another. And another. And another.

The tears rolling down Tommy’s peaked cap turned into weeping. The sky wailed its pain, crying the tears the widowed man didn’t have.

He couldn’t bring himself to.

Was he so broken even the death of his wife wouldn’t affect him?

The man brought the half-empty bottle of whiskey to his lips. The golden liquid cast a gentle warmth on his entire being. Tommy welcomed it, only wincing as the taste burnt his lips.

At least he could still feel that.

The reason he couldn’t cry for his late wife, he knew it.

That very reason made him cower with shame. Run away from her mourning family. Hide from his own son who, only aged two, reminded him so much of her.

But how could he cry for a woman he had never been in love with?

He swallowed another sip.

No matter how many times he had foolishly tried to convince himself, he was never in love.

He cared for her. He was loyal. He was devoted.

But never in love.

No, his heart belonged to another.

He chugged at the bottle, drinking until he couldn’t breathe and his head felt dizzy.

He closed his eyes, the heavy rain making him shiver.

Her image, engraved on his eyelids, shook his heart. She had always been aware of it. There was a distance, a wall between them. He didn’t look at her the way she wanted him to— no spark, no tenderness in his gaze. They shared a house and a family but that’s all they would ever have.

If Tommy married Grace, despite her betrayal, it was only to do right by her.

And he never regretted it.

Thomas Shelby wasn’t a man of many regrets.

He was a man of guilt.

Marrying a woman he didn’t love to preserve her reputation— to protect her— just to get her killed instead.

That was all him.

He stared blankly at his hands, an empty chuckle leaving his lips.

Those hands. Dripping with innocent blood.

So much blood.

Blood on her porcelain skin. Blood on her powder pink dress. Blood on his pristine white shirt. Blood. Everywhere.

And it was all his fault.

Gulp.

If there was one thing worse than being responsible for Grace's death, it was the shame he felt.

Even dead, he couldn’t give her what she desired. He couldn’t mourn for her the way everyone expected him to. His heart couldn’t break for her the way it should because it never belonged to her in the first place.

Gulp.

His son was going to grow up without his mother. Tommy knew how that felt. It was the last thing he wished for Charlie. To grow up the way he did.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

The last drop of ember liquid slid down his throat and Tommy stared at the clear glass. There was no consolation. No rest for him. Not here. And certainly not at the bottom of that bottle.

He got up suddenly, stumbling through the large field into his car. Glancing at his pallid face in the rearview mirror, he sighed.

There was only one place Tommy could hope to find comfort tonight.

A soft knock on the door tore you from your thoughts. A swift glance at the clock pointed to the late hour as you slipped your robe on. You crossed your apartment warily, wondering who could visit in the middle of the night. Who could be brave— or stupid enough to defy the pouring rain outside?

You opened the door slowly, your heart pounding in apprehension.

“Tommy?” You opened the door slowly, heart pounding in apprehension. “Gosh, Tom, you must be freezing! A-are you okay?” you quickly ushered him inside.

Grabbing his coat and cap, you handed him a dry towel.

You hadn’t seen him since the morning, at the funeral. He left after his speech, handing Charlie to Polly and taking his car.

His brothers spent hours searching for him but it was useless. If Thomas Shelby decided he didn’t want to be found, then nobody would.

You hesitated for a moment. Maybe you should warn Polly or Ada, tell them he was with you.

Instead, you brought a comforting hand to his soaked arm. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”

“No, it’s alright. I…I don’t even know why I came here,” he slurred, his eyes darting around— always avoiding you.

Guiding him towards the sofa, you managed to get a better look at him.

To say he seemed tired was a euphemism. His eyes lacked their usual spark and his skin had a sick, grayish tone. He had aged twenty years in about a week.

Your heart clenched in your chest as the memory of the young man he used to be appeared. His clear laugh rang out somewhere in your mind and you thought about the long nights spent with the other. Up there, on the roof of some abandoned factory, dreaming of a gilded future.

“Do you think you can get up? My brother left some clothes here, you could change into something dry.”

Tommy took a cigarette out from the pocket of his black jacket. You observed him, watching the same ritual you’ve witnessed countless times. The cigarette between his lips, he muttered “It’s fine,” before inhaling the smoke. “I should go anyway. Shouldn’t have bothered you so late at night. ‘M sorry.”

Your hand reached for his. “No. You’re not going anywhere, Tom.”

He observed you as he felt your thumb running against his skin. Such a simple gesture yet it took Tommy a moment to recognize the small display of affection.

Your touch sent shivers down his spine, different from the ones he felt because of the cold— enjoyable. He decided to focus on the warmth emanating from your hand, sitting back down.

He wondered when was the last time someone had been so tender with him. The last time touch didn’t rhyme with broken bones and bruises. The last time he seemed important enough to be handled with care and gentleness.

“Hey,” you announced softly, taking a seat next to Tommy. “How’s your arm doing?”

He took a swig straight out of the bottle of champagne. You instantly recognized the “gift” offered by Grace as he handed it to you. “Feels like it's been shot,” he shrugged, his gaze fixed on his passed-out brothers.

Sighing, you swallowed some of the bubbly liquid again. Even though a part of you was thrilled to see the blonde barmaid gone— you had been wishing for that ever since she stepped into town— seeing Tommy so heartbroken snatched the joy away.

To your dismay, her arrival in Small Heath brought back parts of him you thought were lost in some deserted french field. It shattered your heart to see his smile, the somehow sparkling eyes, the lightness in his demeanor every time—and only when she was around.

And yet, if it meant him being happy again, then you could deal with the disappointment and the jealousy and the yearning. You could handle watching his joy from afar. Even if you weren’t the reason behind his smile, even if you weren’t part of it. You just wanted him to be happy.

But it was all a lie.

Who would have thought it was merely a scheme?

Probably the oldest one in the book— to get close to the man in charge and trick him into handing the information on a silver platter. No one suspected her. Not even Polly.

She had managed to fool all of you, the same way you’d fool a child into drinking some nasty medicine.

“And you?” you finally ask, turning your head to observe Tommy. “How are you?”

You noticed the clench in his jaw, the pause—a fraction of a second too long before answering “Good.”

"Really good or ‘just leave me alone’ good?”

He grabbed the bottle from your hands, staying quiet and you took this as a sign to ask again. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

One of the things Tommy cherished the most in your relationship was his ability to be honest with you. You seemed to understand, or at least accept what others qualified as flaws. He knew he could ask you to go away if he wanted to without upsetting you. It comforted him in some way.

But then, the thought of you leaving made his heart clench painfully in his chest. The swirl of emotions was too much. Too much for him to deal with alone.

His hand searched for yours, squeezing it gently. The words didn’t need to be uttered. You sat closer to him and for some reason Tommy couldn’t understand, his head rested on your shoulder.

It wasn’t calculated. He didn’t even think of it.

One minute he was carrying his heavy heart alone. The next, you stood by him and lifted some of the burden away.

Your fingers made their way to the shaved part of his head and Tommy closed his eyes. He could forget about everything. Forget about the throbbing pain in his arm. Forget about Danny Whizzbang. Forget about her.

He could just lean on you for a little bit. Focus on the feeling of your nails grazing his skin. Let the faint scent of aldehydes wrapped in roses suffocate the demons in his mind.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself, Tom,” you whispered after a moment of silence.

He scoffed and you brought your hands to his face, lifting his head from your shoulder. “I’m serious,” the fierce look in your eyes confirmed your words. “It could have happened to any of us. And you’ve been through so much. You wanted to believe you could finally allow yourself some peace,” your thumbs ran across his cheekbones. “It was with the wrong person but you still deserve it. You deserve good things.”

Tommy stared at you, almost bewildered. How could you say those words to him— and believe them when you knew what he was? He wondered if your friendship affected your judgment. Made you less able to separate the man he was from the memories you had with him.

As if you had been reading through his mind, you interrupted his ruminations. “I know you’ve convinced yourself you were all bad and evil but you’re wrong. The voices in your head are wrong. There is still good in you, Tom. I know there is, I can see it,” your hand slid from his cheek, dropping to his heart. “Right here.”

Tommy could only observe you. The determination in your voice, the earnestness in your eyes, you were convinced with your own speech. So much that a part of him began to trust you.

You smiled softly at him and he swore he felt his heart miss a beat. “You’re going to meet a nice girl. And she’ll be funny and sweet. And she’ll probably have the patience of a saint to deal with your stubborn arse.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your remark. “But she’ll love you more than anything else and she’ll be lucky because you’ll love her just the same.”

And while Tommy listened intently, the only thing he could think about was you.

Everything you described. Everything you said.

You. You. You.

It was you.

Tommy pressed his palms against his eyes until light dots appeared in his vision. He was beyond exhausted. His head, his arms, his legs ached. His entire body was begging him to surrender. Wave the white flag and give up.

He didn’t know how many battles he could still fight. How many blows he could still stomach. How many times his heart could still be torn apart and keep going.

If all of this was extra, why did it hurt so much?

“I called Polly,” you cut Tommy’s train of thoughts, entering the living room. “Charlie’s alright, he’s asleep now. She is staying at Arrow House with Ada.”

Tommy sighed, his gaze fixed on his trembling fingers. You observed him quietly, noticing the habit he had when something bothered him. He kept clenching his jaw anxiously. To the point you worried he might dislocate it.

Trying to catch his attention, you cleared your throat. Once. Twice.

And realizing he was far too gone into his own mind, you lightly touched his shoulder.

“You should get some rest. You’re tired.”

“I’m alright,” the response was short. Cold.

Anyone else would have backed down. Apologized, even. But you sat next to him, your concern only growing and decided to ask, “When was the last time you slept, hm?”

The dead silence that followed said it all.

You shook your head, a desperate sigh filling the quiet room with your worry.

“I wish there was something I could do,” your fingers brushed against his damp hair. “It’s breaking my heart to see you like this, Tom”

He stared at you, feeling your breath tickling his cheeks— the soft summer breeze embracing him after a hot, straining day.

And something in the air shifted.

Maybe it was the comfort Tommy found in your eyes. Maybe it was the way his heartbeat seemed to chant your name. Maybe he just wanted to.

But he leaned in.

His lips caressed yours, almost timidly before he moved closer. He was kissing you. The dwindling ember ablaze at the sweet taste of your lips mixed with whiskey and tobacco. A precious nectar Tommy knew he could never live without now that he had tasted it.

It seemed to be the only way to bring air into his lungs. Yet somehow, he felt breathless at the same time.

The feeling of his lips— so strangely soft made you dizzy. Your brain didn’t seem to work properly as you kissed him back. Tommy. Kissing you.

You almost giggled, a warm rush spreading in your chest and your head and everywhere in your body.

The only thing keeping you from bursting in flames was the cold. From his hands. His shirt. His hair twirling around your fingers.

You relished it. Cherished his calloused skin against yours. The dazzled lightness in the air.

At that moment, you were no more than a simple woman. And he was a simple man. Kissing you so passionately in the faint twilight.

Your hand touched his, grazing the golden band on his finger and you felt the bubble around you explode.

You weren’t a simple woman. He was far from a simple man.

You pushed him away, regretfully. Your body was almost leaning in again, craving more of the electricity skipping through your veins.

You wanted to be his. And him to be yours.

But not like this.

You knew Tommy like you knew your way back home. He couldn’t address his grief properly. He had never really learned, even after years of practice. The only thing he was used to was taking the pain away, no matter how. No matter the consequences he’d have to face.

And you were well aware of that.

Tommy wasn’t kissing you out of love or even out of desire. He was kissing you to feel better. You couldn’t let that happen. Not to him. Certainly not to you.

But the look he gave you as he realized what you had done made you want to throw it all away.

To hell with morals and honorable principles!

Who needed that when you could kiss him over and over again? When all you had to care about was his heart pounding against your palm, raindrops cooling down your flushed cheeks.

“Tom…” you resigned yourself.

No, you couldn’t just throw it all away. He was mourning his dead wife and he was in pain. You couldn’t take advantage of that.

His hand left your waist as if it had burnt him and guilt soon replaced the gentle warmth in your chest. But it was for the best.

At least, you tried to convince yourself it was.

The terrible humiliation was nothing compared to the regret he’d feel as the sunlight cleared his mind. He couldn’t realize it now. Too intoxicated, protected by the moon’s sheltering shimmer.

You had to keep your composure. Don’t let yourself be fooled by the comforting embrace. It was all an illusion. Giving in meant feeding the sliver of desire you tried so hard to contain.

You couldn’t live off some false hope.

You couldn’t risk your own sanity just so he could choose her.

Not again.

Running through the empty halls of the company, heart pounding in your chest with worry, you prayed.

Please let him be there. Please make sure he’s safe. Please. Please. Please.

Your heels hit the hardwood floor, each step resonating through the halls of the empty building. Out of breath, you almost fell to the ground when the engraved glass doors appeared in front of you— at last, liberation.

You pushed them open, not paying attention to the sound of the slamming doors. A relieved sigh left your lips, your gaze falling on him.

In his armchair, almost asleep, Tommy didn’t budge at the noise. He lazily opened one eye, observing your disheveled hair, how breathless you were. Sitting up, questions bubbling in his chest, he opened his mouth but you interrupted him before he could say a word.

“Where the fuck have you been, eh?” you yelled, walking into the office. Tommy left his chair, carefully joining you in the middle of the room. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

He only stared at you, waiting for the anger to settle down. He realized how worried you must have been, how terrified it was to not find him after he left so suddenly. But he could only feel relief.

Two hours ago, he was kneeling in front of a grave, waiting to be shot. And now, he was with you, getting a well-deserved earful for disappearing.

Tommy had probably never been this happy to get yelled at.

“…And nobody knew where the fuck you were! And then there were shots and we were all running around, even got my new shoes ruined!” you rambled, your hands waving around. “Arthur told me it was over but I couldn’t find you! I searched everywhere, even asked that posh girl who looked after your horse! And I swear to God, someday I will put a leash on you! Disappearing like that! I-“ You stopped abruptly, your expression changing as you noticed the bright red staining Tommy’s temple “You’re bleeding. Why are you bleeding? What…”

“I’m okay,” he replied softly, feeling a change in the air. You closed the distance between you, your hands reaching for the injury.

“What happened to you?” You whispered, your voice higher than before.

Thomas’s hand wrapped yours and he smiled, trying to reassure you. “I survived, Y/N. I’m alive.”

Your lips wobbled, eyes watering and your anger wafted away, replaced by a gut-wrenching worry.

The words he uttered to you at the races before he left took on their full meaning. You couldn’t realize it at the time but the way he looked at you, the way he kissed your temple and promised to come back.

It had felt a little too familiar but you couldn’t remember why.

He was saying goodbye, that’s why. He promised something he wasn’t sure he would keep just to assure your peace of mind.

Suddenly, you were back on the train platform, watching him walk away to a most certain death, completely powerless.

You almost lost him today. Again.

He was gone but then he came back.

Maybe there was a reason. Maybe you were granted a second chance after letting the first one go. Who knew if you would get another?

You couldn’t waste it.

You couldn’t let your last chance slip through your fingers.

You couldn’t risk losing him.

Not without him knowing about your feelings.

“Tommy, I…”

His arms wrapped around your waist stopped the words on the tip of your tongue. He held you close, so close his heart beat right over your ear. One gentle kiss on your temple. His fingers threading through your hair, you closed your eyes.

“I’ll buy you new shoes. I’ll buy you all the shoes you wish for. Even hire a cobbler just for you,” he whispered, tightening his embrace.

“Forget about the shoes…” you started, trying to find the right words.

But what could you say?

Nothing seemed enough. All so insignificant compared to the love you carried like a cherished picture in a locket— always close to your heart.

“I have to tell you something,” he interrupted, a soft smile brightening his expression. “I’m going to be a father.”

“What?” you asked, leaning back.

“Grace’s pregnant with my baby. I’m going to marry her and we’ll raise him together.”

And the world seemed to crumble around you.

Who knew a sentence as simple as this could have the same effect as a thousand cuts?

You could only stare at him, your mind playing the words over and over again— a broken record you were doomed to endure for the rest of your days.

Your eyes burnt with bitter tears attempting to escape their prison. A million questions rushed through your brains, striking each other until nothing made sense.

Not her. Not her. Anyone but her.

You would find another way. Raise the child yourself if you had to. But not her.

He couldn’t fall for her again. You had to talk him out of it. Reason with him.

You couldn’t lose him like this.

“Y/N?”

You focused your attention back on Tommy, noticing the frown forming between his brows.

He expected your answer. Hell, his decision probably depended on your next words. But the idea of a baby…

He had given up on that.

The dreams of a happy, somewhat normal life had been buried in the tunnels. Covered in mud. Lying next to the decaying bodies of his comrades.

And now, it was so close to him. He could reach through the mud and get this life back. He could try to leave the war behind. Let a new life forgive all the lost ones.

Let the flowers grow over the old tunnels.

You bit the inside of your cheek. No, you couldn’t ruin that for him. He went through enough. He deserved some rest.

No matter how selfish you wanted to be, he would always be above all foolish sentiments.

A forced, poorly attempted smile made its way on your face— locking the tears away.

“I’m just…I’m so happy for you,” your voice broke as relief washed over his tired features. He hugged you again, chuckling. “You’re going to be a wonderful father,” there was no hesitation. Only the truth.

“And you’ll be an even more wonderful aunt,” he kissed your cheek, rubbing your back. “Don’t tell Ada I said this.”

You clutched his jacket in your hands, biting your lips hard enough a faint metallic taste covered the bile in your mouth.

The familiar feeling was here again. An impression of déjà-vu. Back on the train platform. Watching him leave.

But this time, he wasn’t coming back.

“I’m sorry, Tommy, we can’t…” but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t listen to whatever excuse you had.

The only thing worse than being rejected by you would probably be hearing you say the words.

I don’t love you, Tommy.

No. It would be the fatal blow. He wasn’t ready for that.

He got up, the alcohol in his blood seemingly gone— deserting, leaving him powerless.

“Tommy, please”

You kept saying his name like it mattered. Like it would change anything.

Shaking his head, he pulled his arm away.

Nothing could mend the raw rip, tearing his heart in half.

It made no sense to him. He was convinced there had been something.

You.

You who stood by him through everything.

You were the only constant.

Your relationship, his only haven— the solid deck on vicious waters.

Never breaking. Never busting.

What would he do if the deck shattered?

Tommy didn’t have the answer to that question. He didn’t want to know.

The cold pit in his stomach as you leaned back was enough to make him leave. He couldn’t bear looking you in the eyes, terrified of what he’d find there.

He had to go.

You followed him through your apartment, calling his name. He wasn’t going anywhere, you wouldn’t allow it. Passing the door meant giving up on your friendship.

It couldn’t end this way.

“Tom, listen to me,” you pleaded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” struggling to find your words, you felt the lump in your throat growing until you were suffocating. “Please, don’t go. You can’t go now, you can’t.”

He grabbed his jacket. The sound of your voice withering almost made him stay. Force a smile on. Tell you it was alright.

No matter how hardened he grew with the years, he never could stand you crying. Ever since the day he met you.

You had scratched your knee on the dingy pavement and he carried you on his back. He even stole a chocolate bar to console you— the little girl with braids and the sweetest laugh his ears were blessed to hear.

He swore he’d do anything to bring the smile back on your face. Engrave the lightness it carried in his heart.

You would know no woe. No grief.

Not as long as you had him.

You clenched your jaw, desperate tears starting to roll down your cheeks. Deep down, you knew your choice was the best but the sight of him leaving—even worse, hating you, made you sick.

“Tommy,” your voice broke, “Please, you can’t leave now. Please…,” one last wretched attempt to get him to stay.

Time began to flow so slowly you could swear it stopped.

The clock didn’t tick. The fire in the hearth didn’t crack. The wind didn’t blow.

The world around you held its breath. Waiting. Carefully listening to your beating heart. Pounding against your ribcage. Each thump edging you to the forlorn void of despair.

But if there was one promise Tommy wouldn’t break, it was the one he made to the little girl with her braids and her scratched knee.

His greatest weakness.

You.

Fingers freezing on the doorknob, Tommy listened to your quiet sniffles. He bit his tongue, feeling the guilty grip around his heart.

The moment of hesitation— only a few seconds but it was enough time to put your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” your forehead rested against his as you whispered, your breath brushing against his lips. “But we can’t do this,” Tommy clenched his jaw, his shoulders slouching in apprehension. “You’re only doing this to feel better and I wish I could help you, I do. But I won’t let you wreck everything just to regret it tomorrow and probably the days after…because you love her.”

A trembling breath left your lips. “You're in love with Grace and you’re mourning and…”

“What?”

Tommy pushed you away, deep creases forming on his forehead. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Tom…”

“What are you talking about? Why would you say that, eh?” confusion in his voice turning into venom, the lack of sleep grinding his nerves.

“Y-You love her. You love Grace, she was your wife and I’m sorry if…”

“Is that what you think?” he spat out as your hands reached for him again.

The fatal blow.

Unexpected. Sharp. Lethal.

“What do you mean?” you stared at him, puzzled at his brusque reaction. “Grace was…”

“Stop saying her fucking name!” he snapped, eyes maddened by his own anguish.

The mere sound of her name was enough to stir the guilt overtaking his body— stabbing the same bleeding wound over and over.

You stood before him, not knowing how to act.

Tommy rarely lost his cool. He always had the upper hand over his own emotions. You were used to that. You had learnt to deal with his seemingly unshakable façade.

This was different.

“Is that what you think, hm?” he repeated, cutting the stunned silence reigning “You think I was in love with her?”

You had no idea what to reply. You couldn’t grasp the reason behind his outburst. His anger and his hurt were part of a puzzle missing its central piece.

Twisting his words in your mind, you tried to find a clue— anything to help you understand. The accumulation of distressing events was the most obvious answer but it still didn’t explain everything.

“Tom, I don’t understand, I…” you finally admitted, powerless faced with his own torment.

Your confession made him scoff. Tommy’s chest heaved and he clenched his jaw, biting back the words burning his tongue.

The turmoil of emotion began to overwhelm him and he knew that as soon as he opened his mouth, words would flow uncontrollably. The wise decision was to walk away.

Walk away and blame the concerning amount of whiskey in his blood the next day.

Just walk away.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Of course.

The heavy lump in Tommy’s throat seemed to explode, spreading its vehement poison across his body.

“I was never in love with Grace.” he spun around, facing your defeated expression “I was never in love with her because I’ve always loved you. You.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t say anything. But Tommy didn’t expect you to. “She was the mother of my son and I cared about her but the way I love you… You are the only woman that ever mattered and without you…” his voice broke, eyes watering.

The wave of emotion washed over him with such intensity, air barely reached his lungs.

Drowning.

He felt like he was drowning. Condemned in a tormented sea. Desperately gasping for air yet only allowing more water in.

Tommy considered the idea of forsaking— let the water burn his throat, churn at his insides as long as he could rest. As long as his soul didn’t ache.

But at the very last second, he felt hands pulling him out.

You embraced him, arms tightly knit around his neck, his head resting against your shoulder. Tommy closed his eyes, treasuring the small moment of peace granted to him.

Feeling the strength in his body failing, you guided your bodies to the carpeted floor. His arms tightened around you and you sighed.

His confession had been everything you ever wanted to hear and you desperately wanted to believe him. Craved to whisper those same words back.

But could you trust the words of a man so inebriated he would probably not remember by the morning?

“It was all an illusion”, you reminded yourself.

Tommy, your friend, may have been the man you loved but he was also a widower. Maybe it made no sense to act this way and maybe you should believe him because why else would he say this?

But it was unfair to expect him to “make sense” after what happened to him.

He needed comfort. He needed to stop being the man in charge, the “always standing” one. He needed you to be his friend.

Only that.

Your hands rubbed his back soothingly and you kissed the side of his head, chasing the voice in your head begging you to give in.

For now, you’d have to content yourself with that.

A gentle embrace, mending the scattered pieces of his heart in the dark hall. Tommy couldn’t let go. Your arms provided the solace he longed for—the lifebelt keeping him afloat.

And as you held him, he could only think about the time. The time he lost. The time he could have had.

If only he had said something…

The train platform turned into a sea of teary goodbyes, children escaping their mother’s grasp and boys, men— soldiers, leaving for France.

Clutching Tommy’s army jacket in your hand, you felt his fingers brushing the tears on your cheeks.

“Come on, sweetheart, you know I hate seeing you cry,” he attempted a soft smile.

“Then don’t leave us.”

And he knew he would. He would do anything if it dried your tears and erased the sad pout on your face.

“Please, just one smile. I want to see you smile.”

In case it was the last time.

Tommy searched through his pockets, waving a bright blue box in front of you. “Now you can’t cry anymore,” he muttered with a sly smirk.

You stared at the chocolate bar and couldn’t help the grin making its way through your tears. You swung your arms around his neck, cutting his breath short as you hugged him.

Tommy returned the embrace, closing his eyes.

He could never open them again and stay with you. He wouldn’t have to go anywhere. Just stay. Thread his fingers through your hair and kiss you and love you. He could just stay.

Neither of you wanted to let go. You were pretty sure neither of you could.

As long as you had him. As long as he had you. Nothing could reach you. Nothing could hurt you. If only you held onto each other tighter.

But a loud, piercing whistle resonated through the station, breaking the tender embrace. Tommy took a moment to admire you. Gentle features and radiant smile. That’s how he wanted to remember you. His thumbs reached under your eyes. No tears.

Not today. Not ever.

He wasn’t sure he could keep standing there as you cried and not cry himself. Blinking away, his jaw clenched, he let his fingers trail down your cheek.

His touch was so soft, so light—like feathers tickling your skin— it almost made you forget why he was leaving.

You tried to smile, even as a few rebellious tears tried to escape.

Oh, my darling Y/N...

And he thought he might finally admit it. Confess right here on the noisy train platform. Whisper the words into your ear and make you promise you’ll wait for him.

He was already walking towards death, he might as well free himself of the secret he kept for so long— the same way a condemned man would.

“Tommy?”

He focused his attention on you, the delicately embroidered handkerchief close to your nose. Your eyes reddened with tears, cheeks still damp.

Yes, he could say it.

But what if he didn’t come back?

What if he told you he loved you and died in some french field? What if the only thing you got back from him was a box of his belongings and nothing else?

“I…I just…” You wouldn't handle it. You were already terrified of what would happen, he couldn’t add to that some foolish confession just to feel better.

He couldn’t risk it.

“I’ll miss you. Take care, yeah?” he leaned in, kissing your temple.

“Come on, Tom! We’re gonna be late,” Arthur’s deep voice urged him.

“I’ll write to you all the time,” you promised, your hand reaching for his.

Tommy didn’t let go, holding your fingers until he was too far. He stepped onto the train, his eyes always set on yours.

One last glance. One last smile.

And he was gone.

Arthur and John found a compartment where they set their bags, greeting other soldiers. But Tommy wasn’t paying attention.

He had a chance. He could have said it.

No. No, it would have been too selfish to blurt it out and leave. He wanted to tell you he loved you but not under Death’s malignant threat.

He would admit he loved you only if he could live to fulfill that promise. When he could take you dancing. When he could be sure to fall asleep kissing you and wake up just the same.

What was the point of saying it if he never had the chance to show it?

But could he really risk dying without ever telling you?

If he died and you never knew he loved you, he would regret it.

One last whistle resonated through the train station. The train wobbled, slowly moving.

No. No. No.

Tommy left the compartment, running to the corridors.

“Tom, what the fuck are you doing?”

The last thing he wanted was to break your heart if he didn’t come back. But he couldn’t leave without you knowing just how much he loved you.

He just had to make his way back to you.

And he could. He could fight and floor his opponent if it meant coming home to you.

He just had to say it. He had to.

He would never forgive himself if he didn’t.

Pushing away soldiers, ignoring their exclamations and complaints, Tommy finally reached the last car.

It was full but it didn’t matter. He burst in, running towards the window. Quick. Before it’s too late.

I love you.

Soldiers were staring at him as if he was mad.

Maybe he was.

I love you.

He leaned out, almost tipping over and falling. He didn’t care.

I love you.

Tommy spotted you amongst the crowd.

I love you. I love you. I...

But the train had already left the platform.

It was too far. It was too late.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, defeated.

No one noticed the tears in his eyes. The train rushed under the dim tunnel as regret filled his body with immense darkness.

Too late.

You woke up with a groan, shy rays of sunshine tiptoeing through your quiet apartment. But you couldn’t enjoy the warm weather. Not when every limb, every muscle, every fiber of your body ached.

On the floor. You had fallen asleep on the floor.

You groaned again, stretching your sore legs. As you tried to get up, the night before came back to your mind.

At least you had an explanation for your aching neck.

You called for Tommy, expecting to find him in the living room but the room was completely empty.

The exhaustion in your body was enough to not question it too much as you made your way to the kitchen. You needed a cup of tea. And maybe some sleep in your bed.

But as you moved towards the table to prepare your breakfast, you noticed a small piece of paper.

Recognizing Tommy’s clear writing, you felt a warm rush through your body and a smile creeping on your tired features.

#ma ptite bombasse 🥰#tommy <3 #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fluff #peaky blinders #anna's fics #500 followers celebration #anna's grand ball #peaky blinders

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