#bringing it up just to see tommy hurting like he has been for this whole time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pacifymebby · 5 months

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*slides a crisp $20 bill across the table* peaky boys reaction to the reader that gets excited any time they see them, like they literally light up with excitement, even if they just saw them~

Hiiii sorry this took so long and i hope i manage to do it justice ♥️

Tommy

🌿 He's alarmed by it at first, almost thinks its a little silly... Suspicious is perhaps the right word? Tommy is used to people performing for him, pretending to be something they're not, acting the way they think he wants them to act... Usually because they want to get something from him.

🌿So yes, at first he is cynical, he doesnt believe for a second that you're really so pleased to see him... Usually when Tommy enters a room that room falls silent, people shiver, people's mouths run dry... conversations go unfinished... a shadow passes over all he passes by.

🌿 Unless you're in that room... if you're in that room everything is different, your eyes light up, your whole demeanour brightens, you practically jump out of your seat and rush to him... you clasp his hand in yours and practically drag him to your table desperate to tell him all about your day and hear all about his... it's like he's the sun in your sky and he doesn't know what to think, only that somehow someone must have put you up to it, or perhaps you yourself are playing a game of mistruth. Attempting to deceive him...

🌿 The thing is he can't work out any alterior motive, theres no reason as far as he can tell, that you would want to cosy up to him or flatter him like this... And if you did, well, he can't help but think you'd be smarter than to think squealing and throwing your arms around him every time you see him is the best way to go about that...

🌿 But he can't bring himself to believe you're innocent, that you're being genuine... he wants to, really desperately wishes he could join you on your apparently care free sunny side of life but he can't... it's not like he hasn't been burned before...

🌿 So he's stand offish with you at first, always telling you to settle down, smirking at you, he almost seems a little embarrassed about the attention you're throwing at him... which is unusual for him because it's not like he isn't used to women flirting with him.. perhaps it's that this isn't flirting in the way he's used to.

🌿 It's warmer, more innocent. There's no games being played, not the way he's used to... and he gets very irate about it, feels he has to nip whatever trick you're trying to play in the bud immediately.

🌿 So the next time you rush to him throwing your arms around him he snatches your wrist in his hand and drags you away, into a lonely room, he sacred you with his sudden temper, the angry way he traps you between him and the door, finger pointing accusingly in your face...

🌿"Right miss l/n whatever this is eh, whatever you're playing at it ends right now you hear me? Right now..." you don't know what to say to him, speechless with fear, eyes wide and filled with tears as you stare up at him in shock. "Wh...what are you..." you start stuttering, your heart thudding in your chest, your stomach heavy like it's filled with stones so sad and disappointed because you love him and it looks right now like he hates you...

🌿 "Don't give me that love, I know you want something so you can drop the act... Whatever you want right, you do what everyone else does, you book an appointment with Lizzie and you book your turn!"

🌿But the minute the cold words leave his mouth he regrets them, the way you resolve falters, the way your eyes brim with tears... Your whole demeanour changes, you shrink away from him, as if it hurts to touch him. You can't look him in the eyes and he wonders if perhaps that hurts too now. Because you don't just love wildly, you hurt wildly too and he's wounded you mortally with his icy words and his cynicism...

🌿He knows straight away that there was no act, that you'd been nothing but genuine from the start. That perhaps your actions might have seemed a little childish, but that ultimately there was no harm in them. Or in you. You are just a very sweet girl who, for some god only knows reason, really loved him...

🌿 "Fuck I'm sorry love..." he sighs reaching for your hand, deciding better of such a halfhearted gesture and instead engulfing you in a warm embrace, holding you tight and secure, rocking you side to side, eyes closed, savouring every second he had with you in his arms. When he kisses your hair he breaths in your scent, looks down at you with these deep apologetic eyes, "Sorry love, forget myself sometimes... Get so wrapped up in me own head that I forget who I'm dealin with sometimes..."

🌿 "Its been three days since I saw you last.. I just missed you Tommy, I'm sorry I won't..." you begin to tell him you won't do it again, about to apologise for everything but he cuts you off, finger to your lips all, "no, no don't do that, please don't tell me you won't do it again love, please don't think I don't enjoy seeing you smilin eh? You keep smilin whenever you feel like smilin eh love, promise me you'll do that for me?" he says kissing your cheek, your nose, all over your face as hes talking to you, holding your cheek in his palm, his eyes so serious when he looks into your eyes waiting for an answer...

🌿 You're so confused, ten seconds again he looked like he hated you and now he's holding your face in your hands, smothering you in feathered kisses.

🌿"But..." you start your little frown would be adorable if he didn't feel so guilty for putting it there in the first place..."but tommy I don't understand you just said..."

🌿"Never you mind what I just said eh, I was wrong... Doesn't happen often sweetheart but sometimes, perhaps.. I am wrong." He says stroking your cheek, brushing your tears away... Because now that he knows this isn't a trick, now that he knows he can trust you, that this is safe, he's relieved to let his guard down, relieved to trust you the way he's wanted to for some time, relieved he can finally kiss you, taste a little of that sunshine you seem abundant in.

🌿He will make you promise him that you'll forget what he told you, that you wont stop smiling, and when you do he'll kiss you quickly on the lips and pat your cheek, "very good angel, good girl."

🌿Because the truth is that his cynicism before was just a defense mechanism. He hasn't seen someone light up the way you do for him for such a long time and he didn't want to believe you could really be so excited to see him, because believing that fact meant accepting that you really do love him, that in many ways you depend on him, that there are plenty of opportunities to let you down.

🌿The way he sees it, if he can make you that happy he can also make you twice as sad and he's seen that now too, just now when he almost broke your heart...

🌿In truth he loves your sweet ways, the way you rush to hug him, to hold his face in your hands and kiss him, without a care for who may be watching. He loves to see the light in your eyes when your whole face glows with joy thats because of and intended just for him.

🌿 Tommy is for the most part, a difficult man to read, he's reserved, always calm, his poker face was mastered at birth... You on the other hand wear all your feelings on your sleeve. Even if you wanted to hide how you felt about something you're pretty sure you couldn't. Somewhere between you and tommy there should be balance, you should even one another out. That isn't what happens however. If anything the contrast makes the both of you seem more extreme. You look giddy and wild in comparison to Tommys quiet, still nature. He looks dead behind the eyes, ice cold and unfeeling in comparison to you.

🌿 But it works, ultimately you need someone calm and he needs someone like you to remind him that there are still happy people in the world. That he still brings someone joy and meaning in life.

🌿 He does kind of wish you'd develop some kind of poker face though because he knows it isnt good for people to see you behave so childish and naïve, it puts you at risk. Makes you look like an easy target. Someone as sweet and pure as you sticks out like a sore thumb in Small Heath and he knows that every other bad man, men like him, out there will see you as an opportunity. Because sweet girls like you are the hardest to ignore when they cry. They'd make you cry to get to him.

🌿But what can he say, theres so much dark in the world and not enough people know joy, someones gotta let the light in from time to time and its good that you do.

🌿So when you run and throw your arms around him, burying your face into his chest he will wrap his coat around you and hold you just as tight. He'll let you smother him in kisses and embarass him with your relentless affection and he'll just chuckle, kiss you back and, eventually say something like "settle down now love, you'll make our company jealous..." He's only teasing you, always lighthearted, he'll never make the mistake of being harsh with you again.

🌿But he will lower his head and whisper a reminder to you, that there are peolple watching, that sometimes its better to keep your feelings concealed.

🌿He won't stop you though. After that first time when he scared you, sapped the life from you with two short thoughtless sentences, he has made an effort never to try and reign you in like that again. You're his sunshine girl and that's the way he wants you to stay forever.

🌿 In fact your happy go lucky excitable nature makes him more determined to protect you from the world. He doesn't ever want you to lose that joy, never wants to see you tired or worn out or disappointed. He lives every day with one thought heavy on his mind - he has to keep the sun in the sky for you. Can't ever let you feel the rain.

🌿One day you pull away having smothered him in your usual affections in front of his brothers and Ada and when you see the faintest tint of pink in his cheeks you smile coyly, "my my tommy shelby do my eyes deceive me or is that a blush I see before me?"

Alfie

🐻 Alfie Solomons is a grumbling old eccentric, a tired out, miserable, sharp tongued misery old git and you... you the most lighthearted, melodramatic, delightful girl he has ever met...

🐻Doesn't know what you're so happy about but he knows he'd be a fool to suggest you wipe that giddy little smile off your lips... because that giddy little smile is the prettiest smile he's ever seen and knowing it's all for him makes him feel so hopeful.

🐻 The first time it happened - the gasp, the jump, the gleam in your eyes as you threw yourself into his arms - he was floored by the shock of it... He isn't used to positive attention from women at the best of times, especially not pretty young women like you... Even if you have been sweet on eachother for a little while, even if you have been seeing one another in secret for several weeks...

🐻 So when you saw him across the street at the market and let out a gasp, waving to him from across the road before darting in front of a cart to throw yourself into his arms he almost fell over, wasn't prepared, couldn't believe his eyes... Couldn't believe the speed at which you came barrelling towards him...

🐻You took him completely by surprise but he caught you, just about. The two of you nearly fell over in the bloody road but he caught you, his big arms closed around you, squeezing you just as tightly as you held onto him. He wrapped you up in one of his bear hugs and chuckled at your enthusiasm. He was confused but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to hold you nice and tight. To show off to the whole street that you were his girl and you were ecstatic to see him...

🐻 "Now," he chuckled, smiling into your hair as he cradled your head to his chest and pressed a kiss to your temple, "I'm wondering my little ziskeit, what exactly all that was about yeah... You coulda got yourself killed runnin into the road like that and forgive me poppet but I ain't entirely sure I understand what was so exciting to you that you forgot yeah, to use your street smarts yeah?"

🐻 "Sorry Alfie..." You shrugged his worries off so easily, that girlish smile on your lips unfailing, it was almost infuriating and yet, it was far too pretty for him to really get annoyed at you... So a peck on the lips is what you get for being so thoughtless, a "you're lucky you're so sweet y/n... Or I might get cross with you..."

🐻 He is always having to remind you he isn't as young and strong as he once was, that you've got to be careful with him, you've got to slow down... You've got to think of his old and failing body yeah, "I'm fallin apart ziskeit and all these theatrics yeah, they're speeding up the process so just... Take a breath right and settle down..." When he sees your simmering pout he softens again, drops the grumpy old man act and coos to you, "I know poppet I know, you're just happy to see me right... God knows why yeah, god knows why..."

🐻 He's always teasing you about your excitement, reckons it's cause you're young, tells you "not to worry ziskeit, you'll grow out of it..." But he hopes with his whole heart that he's wrong, that you never will lose this bubbling joy.

🐻 And though you think he's simply teasing you, playing that grumpy old man act, he really isn't... Deep down part of you knows he really does wonder why, doesn't understand why you love him the way you do, why you're always so happy to see him, why you don't mind showing the whole world how happy to see him you are...

🐻 And that makes you all the more stubborn to show him that love, to shower him in melodramatic affection every time you see him so that he can't ever forget or try to ignore the fact that whilst you might be his little ray of sunshine, he's the one who puts the sun in your sky.

🐻 He's the only one who can make you that happy, the only one who can spark that level of excitement in you, leave you all head in the clouds giddy whenever you see him but he's also the only one who's able to calm you, able to soothe your excitement and get you to settle down. Knows exactly how to talk to you to get you to come sit in his lap and enjoy a little peace and quiet with him.

🐻 There's this look he gives you when you're beaming at him across the room and he can see that you're bursting at the seams with excitement to be bundled up in his arms, it's this look which says "come here then," but which is stern enough to remind you not to run, remind you to be careful.

🐻 And when he squeezes you in one of his bear hugs and kisses your forehead he talks soft and low, so calmly to you that although he can't settle your ever fast beating heart he can slow those wild thoughts of you down just enough to see you let out a little sigh and nestle into his cosy embrace. "That's better ziskeit, you even remembered to check the road this time see, a good girl, that's what you are darlin..."

🐻 But he does think youre adorable when you get excited and he feels so proud that its him youre excited to see. Honestly it's hard to keep up his grumpy, cold-hearted mobster act with you around relentlessly brightening his day.

Arthur

🍂 Honestly he is completely baffled by you, he just can't get his head around it... what the hell are you so excited about? No one ever looks happy to see him... It really puzzles him and he spends days getting frustrated, trying to get to the bottom of it, asks his brothers whats "the matter" with you, asks his sister who just laughs at him, says "good god Arthur if you can't even get your head around that there really is no hope for you..."

🍂 When Ada does spell it out for him "she likes you you big idiot..." He blushes, gets even more confused and a little embarrassed... That isn't usually how girls show him they like him.. they're usually far more coy, they usually try that sophisticated flirting, they usually want him to buy their drinks and then fuck them senseless in the toilets...

🍂 Then he's flustered wondering if that's what you want him to do to him...

🍂 He'll go bright red and Ada will slap him because she knows exactly which pits his mind has wandered to... "For fuck sake Arthur if you used your head half as much as you use your cock you might not need me to spell these things out for you..."

🍂 The next time he sees you he's nervous, he can't stop wondering if you're going to do that thing you always do again? If you're going to make that noise... The little squeal of excitement you made last time, it was shortly followed by a skip, your eyes wild as you called out to him from across the room. That little giggle of glee when you waved to him and then appeared ever so suddenly by his side...

🍂 And when you do he's unnerved, he's paranoid... He wants his sister to be right but this is just so unusual for him... People are usually fucking terrified of him after all, he's nothing but Tommy Shelby's big brute, the rottweiler as he's often referred to.. how can a girl as blissful as you like him when she's heard the rumours about him... With his reputation how could anyone possible be giddy, head over heels happy to see him?

🍂 So he gets all in his head about it, starts thinking it's some kind of joke, perhaps his brothers or one of the lads set you up to this as a prank, perhaps someone is secretly trying to make a fool of him. The disappointment is tangible and he swallows a lump in his throat as he looks at you again, waving to him from across the room. Are you really playing a trick on him? Is this all to humiliate him?

🍂 When he turns away, hardly even smiles at you you're left confused and a little disappointed. Your heart sinks and you get up to join him at the bar where he's lined up three whiskeys.

🍂 "Are you upset about something Arth?" You ask, your touch on his arm sending sparks of hope through his heart, "you look all gloomy..."

"Aye that's me eh, gloomy... Not like you eh, a little ray of fuckin sunshine ain't ya..." he doesn't smile when he says it, in fact he almost sounds bitter and you bite your lip a little uncertain.

"I'm just.. happy to see you Arthur... I know it's only been a few hours but... Well I kissed you didn't I..." you admit.. you're not exactly embarrassed to admit it but you do feel a little silly now that you're spelling it out to him.

🍂 "Did... Did my..err.. did my brothers put you up to this or somet love?" He's feeling pretty embarrassed to ask it but he wants to know because if you are he wants to stop being teased and if you aren't well, he wants to kiss you actually.

🍂 And when he asks you laugh, your giggle lighting you up, lighting him up too when you shake your head and tell him not to be so daft, when you can't stop giggling at what a silly thought that is. "As if I'd want to help your brother's play a nasty trick on you you big idiot..."

🍂 He can't keep the grin off his face, lighting up immediately, his hands on your hips dragging you in close to him, holding you tight in his hands when he chuckles along and says "eh well in that case then," before planting a rather passionate kiss on your lips.

🍂 Arthur loves to layer the physical affection on thick, even in public, he adores how much you adore him, adores seeing you light up with excitement, adores seeing you happy... But what he adores most, and what he can't get his head around even now, is that it's him that makes you that happy. Him the monster, the rottweiler, that old brute... He's the person who makes you light up like the sun and the night sky all at once. He can't believe his luck.

🍂 He's a very full on, brash man and when you rush to him with excitement he matches your energy the two of you taking over a whole room with your adoration for one another. He really doesn't care about appearing "soft" he'll just sweep you off your feet, snog you to high heaven and dance you round the room...

🍂 Even if the last time he saw you was five minutes ago, the two of you still light up for one another.

John

🌼 John finds your melodrama highly entertaining. He loves to watch you light up whenever you see him. He's a very playful lover and he will match your energy 100%.

🌼 He won't even be taken back the first time it happens. You'll squeal and he'll see the joy in your eyes, one look at you and he'll know what you're going to do before you do it... so when you come running and jumping up into his arms he'll catch you and spin you round in a tight embrace.

🌼 Won't put you down but will keep you wrapped around him in his arms for as long as possible talking to you about your day and telling you all about his... well everything he can tell you.

🌼 However because you were always like this with one another it was very hard for you to tell your true feelings for one another. Your over affectionate friendship was often described by both of you as "like a brother/sister to me..." and so it took you both a long time to realise you were in love. When you did however because you were already so affectionate with one another you fell very easily into your new dynamic. The only difference being that now when you run and jump into his arms he meets you with a deep and affectionate kiss.

🌼 He absolutely adores your excitable nature, he's a big kid at heart and he loves that there's someone else in the world who is carefree and wild enough to wear their emotions on their sleeve the way that you do. His brothers warn him about you telling him to be careful, Tommy even suggests that a girl like you who throws her affections at people so wildly, is perhaps not necessarily loyal, but John defends you to the ends of the earth. And definitely comes close to hitting his brother for suggesting something so improper about you.

🌼 And so although it takes you awhile to win over his family, John trusts and adores you from the very first time he sees that wild ecstatic light sparkling in your eyes. He's always coming up with little nicknames for you, calling you his Little Firecracker, telling you you're like a bottle of champagne. He likes to call you fizzy because you're always bubbly and bouncy with excitement.

🌼 He actually takes a little while to work out that he's the cause of the excitement. Because he doesn't see you when you're not with him (obviously) so he just assumes that the way you are with him is the way you are all the time. When he finds out from Ada that she's never seen you act that way before with anyone, John gets the most smug and wide grin on his lips.

🌼 He's really proud of himself for being able to light you up like that, he thinks your smile is gorgeous so to be at the center of that... Well he can hardly keep that smug grin off his lips.

🌼 And then he won't stop teasing you about that fact, he'll catch you in his arms and then kiss your cheek and then he'll say something cheeky like, "so I heard a rumour flower, that you're never this excited to see anyone else... That true?"

🌼 But you're not exactly embarrassed about your feelings... If you were you would probably exercise some self restraint in public instead of squealing and jumping up to rush to him every time you saw him. So you just tease him back all, "duh John Shelby... You must be daft if you think this is how I treat all my friends... I'm almost offended... What do you take me for?" You'd ask until he was backtracking, actually blushing and apologising because of course he doesn't take you for that kind of girl... He was only trying to wind you up.

🌼 Still he won't stop teasing you and he loves to wind you up by mimicking your little squeal and the way that you flap your hands when you see him sometimes, he never teases you in a malicious way though and he's always quick to reassure you that he's only teasing, that he loves your little "noises"

🌼 You get to know the sound of his footsteps coming down the street or hallway and you're always waiting at the door for him ready to throw your arms around him. You look forward to seeing him everyday and on long days where he's been particularly busy and the two of you have been forced apart from one another for too long you both look forward to snatching the other up in your arms and talking their ear off, telling them all the things you've thought of and saved up in your head just for them.

🌼 And oh my god, where the kids are concerned... Your excitement + John's excitement fuels the children's and they're even more energetic and wild than usual. You make for one affectionate, untameable family...

🌼 One thing John is sure of is that he never wants to see you lose your sunshine streak and so he tries to keep all the darkness in his life as far away from you as possible. He never wants you to be worried for anything and keeps Peaky Business far away from you. He would protect you and the children and your innocence with his life, never wanting to see you lose your innocent, sunny disposition.

🌼 he also treasures the fact that in dark times he always has his ray of sunshine to look to, always has you with your glowing smile, you his little sunflower who thinks the world of him and is proud and content to depend on him... It does him the world of good to have your relentless optimistic kind of love, means he is never able to forget all the goodness in the world because you're always right there ready to push your way through a crowded room to throw yourself into his arms.

Bonnie

🍀 L o v e s it.

🍀 Bonnie wouldn't change you for the world. He thinks you're absolutely magical, the way you light up every time he meets your eyes across the room, the way you're completely unafraid to show how much you adore him, how you're head over heels giddy and in love with him.

🍀It makes him feel so special, makes him feel like he's the center of your whole universe and he is... you tell him that all the time.

🍀 At first he is certainly surprised by it... it's not that he doesn't believe himself to be worthy of your affection or your praise, it's that no one's ever been quite so confident in their adoration of him before... and well, he just wasn't expecting you to come barrelling across the room into his arms like a bloody cannonball...

🍀But your adoration makes him feel so special and he flourishes and thrives with all the attention you give him. So in fact he encourages it, he'll be the one calling out to you across the field, opening his arms for you to come running and jumping into them. He'll be the one sweeping you up off your feet and dancing you around.

🍀He's a very physically affectionate lad and he will take any excuse and opportunity to get his hands on you... Loves to let you tackle him with a hug only to pretend to be taken by surprise, to let the two of you go stumbling back and falling into the grass together, rolling around so that he can pin you down and kiss you, tickle you with your hands above your head.

🍀You're practically inseparable, you're always with him before and after a fight and Tommy Shelby finds it very frustrating that when he wants to talk tactics with his fighter, you're there hanging off Bonnie's arm, kissing his cheek or wrapped up in the lads arms whilst Tommy's trying to tell him how to throw the fight.

🍀You're his biggest cheerleader, shouting and cheering him on during matches.

🍀But wishes youf be a bit more careful about pushing your way through crowds of roudy men so that you can get backstage to see him.

🍀Obce he won a fight and the second the time bell rang you had lept to your feet, crossed into the ring and had thrown your arms around him squeelling delighted and excited into his neck. And he'd been exhausted and sore from the fight but he couldn't do anything but grin and hug you back pleased that everyone could see how excited his beautiful girl got to see him.

Isaiah

🐀 Put aside his charming nature, his brash flirtations for a moment and have a think if you ever saw this lad display actual joy/excitement/affection for anyone before... I think behind that flirtatious nature he's actually quite guarded, a little preoccupied with keeping up appearances...

🐀 So the first time he really experienced your heart on sleeve, flourishing affection, how lackadaisically you let the whole room know how happy you were to see him, he made the mistake of being too cool for you... he hardly even smiled at you, saluted you from across the room despite your beaming smile and how you'd waved him over... he just nodded to you, a small smirk and that deadpan salute.

🐀 It made your high spirits plummet like a stone. You didn't know what to make of it. You'd never been embarrassed to flaunt your feelings before but he made you feel like you should be... that public rejection, his standoffishness, how casual and cool he'd brushed you off, making you second guess whether hed really meant any of the sweet things he'd said to you when you were alone. Made you wonder if you were just another of his one night stands... someone he could forget now he'd conquered you.

🐀And the thing about you is that though you may show your affection and excitement freely, you might feel adoration to the extremes.. you don't let yourself grow wild and dramatic for just anyone. Once someones shunned you like that, once they've left your heart aching and your eyes teary, you don't give them the opportunity to do it again.

🐀 So the next time you see him in public you don't even look at him and when he comes to talk to you you act like you don't know him at all... so now he knows how you felt... now he's sorry and wondering what happened to his little ray of sunshine...

🐀 Too stupid to realise that it's his own cold actions that have lead you both to this moment and when he asks you what's the matter he seems genuinely concerned about you and you can't believe his foolishness. You say plain and simple, "so it's true what they say about you is it... there really is nothing between your ears..." he frowns, confused because a) he doesn't know what you're talking about, he's got a whole face between his ears duh... and b) he can tell that whatever you're implying is spiteful, that you're trying to hurt him.

🐀 "Do all your thinking with..." but when you say that he gets it, the penny drops and he finishes your sentence.

"With me cock..." he smirks but there's no light in his eyes and he begins to understand, realises he's going to have to do a lot of making up to you, a lot to convince you that you're more to him than just a casual fling.

🐀 "For fuck sake love," he sighs when he sees tears in your eyes because your wild emotions have finally gotten the better of you and you don't have the energy to keep this cold mask on. You're not a cold person, you're a person with so many feelings and you feel them in extremes.

🐀 "I was so happy to see you.." you sniffle thinking back to the moment he'd broken your heart with that, "stupid fuckin salute... I wanted a fuckin hug and you fuckin saluted me..."

When you say it he can't keep the smirk off his lips, can't help but chuckle because it sounds ridiculous... as in it makes him sound like a fucking idiot.

🐀 When your tears get thicker and you frown not understanding what's funny he raises his hands in surrender, "I'm laughing at myself mousy, laighin at myself for being such a fuckin idiot..."

🐀 He really does feel bad for having upset you like that, he had no idea how much his actions would effect you but he sees now that you really do wear your heart on your sleeve, that when you were smiling at waving at him it really was because you were that happy to see him.

🐀 So he promises you, he'll never salute you ever again. Takes your hand and kisses your palm, holds it there as he holds your gaze and says it again, "promise, I Isaiah Jesus will Never salute you ever again darlin, never..."

🐀 And though he does still get a little embarrassed from hard to time - because after all it's difficult to look like a hardened criminal when youve got the sweetest girl in the world hanging off your arm - Isaiah keeps his promise. He's never cold to you again.

🐀 He grows particularly fond of your over the top reactions to seeing him, grows to love the sound of your excited little squeak because he knows it means that any second now you'll come skipping into his arms and he'll have his beautiful girl by his side.

🐀He will definitely try to reign you in and pacify you will his cooler forms of affection in public. Not because he doesn't love you just the way you are, he does... he just knows he has a reputation to uphold and that if you're going to be his girl you have a reputation to uphold too. You can't appear too soft or his enemies will eat you alive and use you to get at him

🐀 So although he's never cold he will give you lots of little reminders to be calm, to be cool, lots of "not now darlin, settle down, come here sit in my lap" it gives him an excuse to get his hands on you and keep you close whilst still managing to look cool about it.

🐀 It doesn't half boost his ego and he definitely gets quite smug about it, if Bonnie, Michael o'r Finn try to tease him about how soft he's gone he can always just shrug his shoulders, "sounds like you're jealous lads... Just cause you've never made a lass make those kinda sounds..."

🐀 Has to admit that when he hears that happy little squeak you do, his mind wanders to other activities, can't help thinking about how cute your other noises might sound...

🐀 and when you're in private its a totally different story. Behind closed doors when he's not worried about what others will think of him, when he isn't trying to be the bad boy he will match your energy, he'll be sweeping you off your feet with all the passion in the world.

🐀 Definitely gets a kick out of mimicking your little squeal.

Michael

☘️ Michael was raised with manners, he was raised in a household which gave great weight to the ability to conduct oneself "properly" stiff upper lip, reserved... Women who wait to be addressed before speaking to their superiors etc..

☘️ That's nothing like you... In fact you're quite the opposite. You don't believe in withholding happiness, you don't believe in hiding your joy, your excitement. If someone makes you happy you should tell them, show them every opportunity you have..

☘️ And though Michael may be taken back by your somewhat unignorable adoration for him, there's nothing he can possibly say to change your ways. You love him and you're going to express that freely and sometimes even wildly...

☘️And this does get under his skin, he can't hide his awkwardness, the way you sometimes embarrass him in public when you get so excited you can't contain your delight in seeing him... When you walk into the bakery in the morning and he's there to collect something for his mum, you walk in behind him and as the doorbell rings he recognises your gasp, the squeal of delight...

☘️ he says a silent prayer everytime eyes rolled up to heaven hoping you won't be quite as loud, quite as dramatic as last time. But as always you throw your arms around him, nuzzle into him and squeeze him so tight... So quickly of course that he hasn't even had a chance to put his arms round you, he's just stood there like an awkward plank of wood in your embrace.

☘️ He thinks you make him look silly... Unprofessional, not to be taken seriously... He worries that people will start to get the impression he isn't as tough or as cold as his cousins. That he's an easy target...

☘️ Will absolutely tell you you need to calm down if you're in public, he'll be so stern about it too. He won't exactly shrug you off coldly and he won't dismiss you because that would make the whole thing look even worse, how rude it would be... it would make one impropper act all the more uncooth and embarrassing...

☘️ So he'll always welcome your affection but he won't match your energy, instead he'll wrap his arms around you, hold you tight but not squeezing you to death the way you are him, and when he kisses your cheek he'll speak quietly but commanding.

☘️ "Now now love calm down, don't cause a scene eh... you can tell me all about your day later eh... for now though eh just you hold my hand and keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut..." he'll kiss your hand and then keep a tight grip on you. It's his way of letting you be close to him, letting you feel a little affection in return whilst still remaining proper and polite in company.

☘️ but secretly he loves your dramati, romantic ways. Because that's all it really is isn't it, romantic? You're like one of those melodramatic french girl stereotypes, you can't simply hold your lovers hand, you must throw your arms around him, sigh like a Juliet, hold his face between your two hands and kiss him like you're breathing him in. Like his kisses give you life... And Michael loves that...

☘️ He loves feeling loved. Literally who doesn't.

☘️when he's had a shit day at work, when he feels like no one respects him, it feels so good to come home and have you hit him with all that affection and adoration. Having you waiting at the door ready to throw your arms around him...

☘️It makes him feel completely adored, gives him a purpose, makes him all the more determined always to return home to you every night...

☘️You wait in the window looking out for his arrival home and then you go running down the drive to meet him, shouting his name, your cheeks rosy flushed from your excitement as he stops at the edge of the path, opens his arms for you to jump up into them. It's his favourite part of the day because it makes him feel so special, so important.

☘️ Michaels a generally serious, slightly melancholic boy, there's often a shadow which hangs over him, be it the pressure of living up to the high expectations he has for himself, or the shadow left over from a turbulent upbringing, the traumas he went through as a boy... There's always some kind of weighty preoccupation on his mind but you, you're a little ray of sunshine in a dark and fucked up world and he adores you, you're the light breaking through the cracks and he's so grateful to have found you. Your excitement and your drama are precious to him, he wouldn't ever want you to lose those traits and so he's fiercely defensive of you..

☘️ once at a family meeting you arrived late, rushing to Michael's side, you hadn't seen him all day and were excited to see him so youd thrown your arms around him all "I missed you so much," and Tommy grew impatient. He snapped at you, said "Michael for fuck sake would you control your damn wife..."

☘️ you were of course shocked by Tommy's sudden temper but what shocked you more was there whereas Michael would usually put an arm around you and remind you to settle down, save the excitement until you were alone, this time he stood up, glared at his cousin across the table...

☘️ "Tommy you might be the head of this family but if you ever speak about my wife like that again I swear I will..."

☘️ And suddenly it's you linking your fingers with his tugging him back to you, whispering to him asking him to calm down...

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#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders headcannons

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tightjeansjavi · 4 months

Text

⟡ sentiments n’ bubbly ⟡

A/N: so, this one another one of my post shower thoughts that has now transformed into this little fic 🥹 this time of the year is a struggle for myself and for others, and I hope it can bring us all a bit of peace before the new year 🤍

~word count: 4.5k~

pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: it’s NYE and you find yourself in Joel Miller’s coffee shop. He’s a firm believer that no one deserves to spend New Year’s Eve alone.

Warnings: angst, fluff, no age gap, discussions of self image issues, bullying, food/eating, language, anxiety, fear of social situations, fomo, mentions of therapy, NYE blues, self deprecating thoughts, flirting, meet-cute, no outbreak/modern day AU, Sarah and Tommy exist in this universe, soft!joel, mentions of alcohol, reader has no physical descriptions such as body type or skin color, some content included may be triggering for some as Joel and the reader have some very real conversations about life. +18 minors dni!

It’s New Year's Eve. The official last day of the year. A whole 365 days has come and gone, and yet, you find yourself feeling the same way you did last year. It wasn’t like you had a particularly terrible life or anything of the sorts, but you still had your struggles. Your daily contemplations over whether you were doing enough, being enough in your little life. You try to focus on all the good that happened in those 365 days of life.

All the laughter, smiles, the warm fuzzy feelings that you found yourself chasing more often than none. The bad times always find their way to trickle in and weasel into your conscience like an infection. The truth is that you know life comes with both good and bad memories. But why is it so hard to push back the bad? Why is it so easy to beat yourself down? You could have done this better, you shouldn’t have said the things you said, did you remember to turn your out of office on before you left the office?

Shit. There was that one email I didn’t get to.

Maybe you find yourself trying to cram in as many last minute tasks before the new year. Closet clean out? You haven’t worn that sweater in months..yet, you find yourself holding onto it because it was a gift from a dear friend, and you don’t want to unintentionally hurt their feelings by donating or regifting it.

Fridge clean out? Well, it does say that horseradish never expires..but you can never be too careful!

Clean your living space from top to bottom? Maybe next year you’ll invest in cleaner products for both the earth and your brain cells. Bleach can be awfully nasty to deal with.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of you. Leftovers are your meal of choice for the evening. You spent hours cleaning your kitchen, and you’d rather not have to do another wipe down till tomorrow.

Hey, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us tonight? We’re leaving in an hour!

It's not that you don’t want to go out with your friends, it’s the steps before getting out the door that have always been a struggle for you.

What if my outfit doesn’t look the way I planned it out in my head?

What if I completely botch this makeup look?

What if the club is too packed?

You hate feeling this way, often thinking you’re a burden to your friends because you're constantly planning ahead of time. Living in the moment for you has always been tough. A gray area that sometimes you have found yourself making peace with, and other times you just wish you could be different.

You reach for your phone while you’re already mentally planning the steps in order to get ready in time. Being late is never an option, even when it’s just a fun night out in town.

Hey, I thought it over and I’d love to come out with you guys :) see you soon!

You send the text in a flash before tossing your half eaten slice of pizza onto the coffee table and rush to your room.

You tear up every inch of your closet looking for the perfect outfit. It's New Year’s Eve after all, and you want to be shimmering like a grand disco ball.

The outfit is on, and you look great! It turned out even better than you pictured it in your head. But the longer you stare in the mirror.

Fuck. Can’t I just turn my brain off for one night? Please?

And there it is, again. That gnawing little voice inside your head that pops up, gleaming and waving its hand just in case you forgot that it existed.

You aren’t actually going to wear that..are you?

It looks all wrong.

And you’re going to be freezing—

Your friends are going to look 10x better than you—

“ENOUGH!” You shout to no one in particular before you stomp off to the bathroom.

After taking a deep breath, you pull out your array of makeup from one of the bathroom drawers. Pinterest becomes your best friend again while you scroll to find a makeup look that screams you.

Bold. Glittery. Too much glitter?

There is never such a thing as too much glitter. You remind that little voice inside of your head.

Even with your ‘going out playlist’ on full blast, you feel your confidence begin to shrink and diminish as you stare at your painted face in the mirror. It’s not exactly like the picture you found on Pinterest, but there’s no time for you to change it now.

Your phone buzzes again, and this time it’s your friends sending you a group picture of all of them pregaming in their glittery outfits and bright smiles. You heart the message before typing back,

Wow, you guys look amazing! Please don’t be mad, I’m just not feeling up for it tonight. I hope you guys have a blast and stay safe! :)

Your friends understand, because they know that this has always been a struggle for you. A sore spot that hasn’t exactly quite healed the way you wish it had. It’s hard to dig yourself out of a hole that you dug, but you're grateful that they have always been so understanding.

No worries, we love you, and Happy New Year!

And all you feel is guilt.

But instead of wallowing away in your apartment, you grab your coat, purse and keys before making the final decision to go out.

You find yourself outside of a coffee shop just down the block from your apartment. You passed by it everyday during your commute to work, but you never found yourself going in, until now.

The coffee shop is found to be empty as most people are already out to dinner or at a party. It’s somewhat comforting that it’s just you and the lone barista who hadn’t heard you come in yet. His back is turned to you while he wipes down one of the counters, humming to himself as he moves about.

You're immediately drawn into how cozy everything feels. From the decor to the crackling fireplace to the soft music playing through the speakers.

The man turns then, towel gently grasped in his hand when he finally registers that he’s no longer alone. He takes in your attire, finding it odd that someone all dressed up for the evening found themselves here. Then he remembered how his daughter told him it’s rude to judge strangers because you never know what the next person is going through.

He smiles warmly instead. “Hey there, I was uh—jus’ about to close up for the evenin’ but can I get you anythin?’” He’s got a face that you already know you’re going to have a hard time forgetting. Strong built frame, yet soft in all the right places and despite his exterior appearing to be hardened, he seems friendly enough.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t noticed that you were closing up for the night..I don’t want to keep you here. I can always come back another time?”

He detects the way your face slightly begins to fall as he lightly taps his fingers along the counter top he just finished wiping down. “S’alright. I forgot to change the sign out front so that’s all on me. So, what can I get ya? It’s on the house.” He gestured to the menu board above his head.

You hesitated for a moment as you didn’t want to inconvenience this man who probably had his own New Year’s Eve plans to get to. “Are you..sure? I really don’t mind coming back another day.”

“S’alright, I promise. I don’t have anywhere important I need to be anyway.” He said with a slight shrug.

“No fun New Year's Eve plans? And I’ll take a cappuccino, please.” You stepped closer to the counter as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

“Nah. ‘Supposed to meet my brother at a bar nearby for a couple drinks, but he can wait a little longer.” He was already reaching his hand out to stop you from pulling out your wallet, when your eyes met his.

“For the tip.” You said with a smile while placing a couple five dollar bills into the tip jar.

“Oh, thank you. ‘Awfully kind of ya.” He responds softly, out of surprise because most people never bothered to tip. He might even be blushing a little..but he can’t really tell. Maybe it was just the steam from the espresso machine.

“It’s no problem. Gotta support small businesses, y’know?”

He nods in understanding. “Yeah, it’s the least people can do. Anyway, I’ll get that Cappuccino goin’ for ya. Feel free to sit wherever.” He gestured to the empty tables.

The table closest to the fireplace ended up being the one you ultimately chose. It happened to also be his favorite spot as well, go figure.

On any other occasion, Joel would call the customer's name once their drink was ready, but given the current circumstances..and the fact that he hadn’t asked for your name, bringing the coffee to you was perfectly acceptable.

“Here’s that Cappuccino for ya.” His voice drawled above you as he set the mug down in front of you. “Let me know if I can getcha anythin’ else. I’ll just be in the back finishin’ up with the cleanin.’”

“Thank you..” you start to say before realizing that you don’t know this man’s name either.

“Joel.” He clears his throat. “My name is Joel, and you are?..”

You tell him your name and he nods with a small smile.

You're left alone to your thoughts as his footsteps disappear behind the countertop once more. You can faintly hear him busying himself and putzing around as your cappuccino begins to cool without you realizing it.

You find yourself vacantly staring through the windows, and the dimly lit streets and passerby’s. You’ve always had a fond love for people watching and imagining what their lives were like. What their jobs and aspirations were. Did they have a family waiting for them? What made them happy? Would they be able to relate to you?

You don’t even hear Joel’s approaching footsteps nearing the table until he’s saying your name with an edge of concern in his voice because you’ve neglected to have a single sip of your cappuccino that has now become room temperature.

Your eyes meet his deep brown warm ones as your own sense of confusion washes over you.

“Is everythin’ alright? You haven’t touched your cappuccino at all..” he’s not offended, nor hurt, but the empath in him is genuinely concerned, even though you’re just a stranger in his coffee shop.

“Oh.” Your voice falls flat. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I guess I got lost in my own thoughts and completely forgot about it.” You feel bad, awful actually because he took the time to make you this drink, and all you had to do was just drink it—

“Hey, it’s alright. I find myself getting lost in my own thoughts as well. But, I can’t have ya drinkin’ a cold Cappuccino. I’ll make you a new one, alright? It’s no trouble at all.” He’s already reaching over to grab the mug.

“Joel, are you sure? You really don’t have to—”

He cuts you off reassuringly, “I insist. I won’t have my customer drinkin’ a cold Cappuccino on my watch. Ain’t no way.”

He disappears back behind the counter before you are able to protest. Joel returns 10 minutes later with two mugs in hand. You listen to the sound of the chair across from you scraping before he slowly sits down.

“I uh—hope you don’t mind me joinin’ ya? You jus’ seem like you could use some company, darlin.’ S’that alright for me to call you darlin?’”

He’s sweet like warm sticky molasses and honey. He actually might be the nicest guy you’ve met in a long long time.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all, Joel. I could actually use the company, and you can call me darling. That’s alright with me too.”

He smiles at you over the rim of his mug that is clasped between his hands. He gently blows on the billowing steam before he takes a small sip. “So, do you have any fun plans for the evenin’? I’m only assumin’ cus’ you’re all dressed up for a night out in town.” He gestures to your glittery getup that sparkles under the warm flames.

“Well, I did have plans to meet up with some friends tonight..but I wasn’t feeling up for it in the end and somehow ended up here.” You said with a sigh before taking a sip of your own Cappuccino. “This is delicious, by the way.”

“How come?..if ya don’t mind me askin?’ And I’m glad you’re enjoyin’ it. Tastes a lot better when it’s hot.”

The last thing you expected tonight was to engage in a conversation about your daily anxieties with this absolutely gorgeous man. Whom you just met, but crazier things have happened before.

“I don’t mind you asking, Joel. I just don’t want to burden you with my troubles or anything. Especially since I think they’re a bit silly and blown out of proportion.” Your eyes casted downwards into the mug.

“Hey, I doubt you can do that, and between you and me? I’ve heard it all. Got a teenage daughter who’s goin’ through all the things that I’m tryin’ to understand..but as a single father, it’s fuckin’ tough sometimes. But I’d be happy to act as a listenin’ ear for ya.” He genuinely means it, too.

“You have a daughter? How old is she? Teenagers can be a handful, that is very true.” You responded thoughtfully while leaning back against the chair.

You watch the way his eyes light up like a Christmas tree when you show a genuine interest in this man’s life. It’s sometimes a rare occurrence to meet a stranger who you feel like you can just immediately open up to without thinking too hard about it.

“She just turned 13 this year. She’s a good kid, super smart. The kinda kid that probably will end up growin’ up and changin’ the world. She’s..well, my world.” He clears his throat and you notice his dimple poking out in his cheek.

As if this man couldn’t become any more attractive.

“Anyway, she’s already goin’ through some friend and boy drama and it’s jus’ a lot to keep up with. Her mom ain’t in the picture either, so it’s not like I can turn to her for any guidance. She went to her first ever school dance this year in a dress that she picked out. The next thing I know, she’s callin’ me up in tears because some kids thought it was okay to make fun of how she looked. I know kids can be mean sometimes, but I wanted to go in there and teach those little shits a lesson myself.”

He was quite the protective father.

“Kids can be real bitches sometimes, Joel. I never quite understood it myself. Especially since I’m sure your daughter was just minding her own business and having a good time? I learned at a very young age that there’s a lot of jealous people in this world that enjoy causing pain in others for no apparent reason.They might have their own struggles, but that is no justification. Those kids that bullied your daughter will hopefully learn from their mistakes sooner rather than later.”

“She was just mindin’ her own and having a great time. She was so excited to wear her dress. It jus’ makes me so goddamn angry because I can’t protect her from everythin’ out there. It’s somethin’ that I’ve really struggled with this year especially. And I’ve tried to talk to my brother about it, but he doesn’t get it either.” Joel said with a sigh. “I’m glad that you can understand all of this though. I don’t really have any female friends to talk to about this stuff either.”

“Most kids grow out of their ‘mean’ phase after highschool. I can admit that I went through a phase similar to that. Made a lot of mistakes that I had to hold myself accountable for. But, with your love and support, I think your daughter is gonna end up being okay. She’s lucky to have you as a dad.” You reassure him.

“Really? You don’t seem like the type of person to ever hurt someone..then again, I ain’t perfect either. Never have been, never will. I’ve had my own regrets as well. But, I appreciate all that you’re sayin.’ S’Nice to be validated every now and then.” He leans forward with his elbows resting along the table and you’re just beginning to notice how broad his shoulders truly are under his faded flannel.

“I don’t think anyone can ever claim to be perfect. We don’t know everything and can make genuine mistakes. But all we can really do is learn from them, make it up to the people we may have hurt, and move forward. I think you’re a really nice person, based on our conversation, Joel.”

“You’re right, darlin.’ No one in this world can claim they are perfect. It's impossible.” His knee brushed yours gently from how close he was leaning in giving you a clear indication that he was actively listening to everything you were saying. “Anyway, I’m sorry I went off on that tangent jus’ now when we were talkin’ about your New Year’s Eve plans.”

“Dammit.” You sighed with a smile tugging on your lips. “I thought you forgot all about that.”

“Nah. I’m pretty good at rememberin’ even if I find myself havin’ to circle back. So, you didn’t feel up to meeting’ your friends tonight?”

“I was going to, truly. But I just got into my head way too much. It started with finding an outfit to wear. I absolutely tore my closet up and I’m really dreading having to clean it up later. Anyway, I’ve got the outfit on, right?”

He nods while taking another sip of his Cappuccino.

“I’m feeling great, and loving the way the outfit looks on me, and then there’s that stupid mean voice inside my brain. You know the one?”

“Ahh yeah. The voice that tells us that we’re unattractive and worthless? Like when we put on our favorite outfit and it’s not fitting quite right, and we know it’s silly to cry over clothes..but sometimes we just can’t help it? And that voice is right there beating us down because sometimes we forget that it’s natural for our bodies to change?”

Damn, he’s good.

“So...you hear that voice sometimes too? I honestly thought I was alone in this feeling. I tend to keep these thoughts to myself because I don’t want to burden others, y’know? I do see a therapist, though. It definitely has helped a lot, but I’m still struggling.”

“Darlin,’ I know exactly where you’re comin’ from. I had these favorite pairs of jeans that I would wear pretty much everyday. Well, just this past month I found that they ain’t fittin’ the way they used to. The zipper wouldn’t budge, and then I spent a good hour tryin’ all the tricks in the book to get those suckers to fit. Well, none of it worked and then I started beatin’ myself up. Sayin’ all the nasty names I could come up with. Then after all of that, I thought about all the delicious meals I had this year and especially these damn ice cream sundaes that my kid is obsessed with. Suddenly, the jeans not fittin’ didn’t bother me as much anymore.”

“Ice cream sundaes are delicious, and even more-so when you are enjoying them with your daughter. I pretty much went through the exact thing that you’re describing. I know that we shouldn’t give into the societal bullshit of looking a certain way to appear more attractive, but it’s just hard sometimes. That’s why I try to cycle through my closet every now and then so I’m not holding onto clothing that doesn’t fit me anymore. Did you end up keeping the jeans?..”

“She’s been requestin’ them for dessert pretty much every night, and I have a hard time tellin’ her no. They are absolutely delicious. It is definitely hard to pass them up sometimes. It’s comforting to know that other people go through the exact same thing that we’ve gone through. I did in fact donate the jeans, and then bought a new pair the same day. Wearin’ ‘em now actually, and I gotta say, I think I look quite good in ‘em if I do say so myself.” He said in a cheeky tone that sent heat rising on your cheeks.

“Well, I think you should stand up, if you feel comfortable doing so, that is, and let’s see what this jeans talk is all about.”

He grins at you, eyebrows playfully dancing while he sets his mug down along the table before pushing his chair back to stand up.

He gives you a little spin, one that neither you were expecting, but you could tell that he was having fun showing off his new denim.

“Okay, respectfully? Those jeans look amazing on you, they are very flattering, Joel.”

He laughs a warm and hearty laugh as his cheeks turn beet red from your words. Even if you’re just playing along, he’s feeling charmed by your presence.

“Really? Y’know, I was thinkin’ the same thing and a’that..but I’m a pretty humble guy.” He said sheepishly.

“Joel, screw being humble. You’re wearing those jeans like they’re made for you! You gotta own that.” You said with a giggle.

“Alright. Alright. If ya say so, darlin.’ I appreciate the compliment, but have ya taken a look at yourself tonight? You’re glitterin’ like a goddamn mirror ball. Gonna blind me with all that sparkle Y’got goin’ on.” He’s flirting, now. He’s absolutely shamelessly flirting with you.

You find yourself leaning forward then, close enough that he can see the pretty shimmer painted on your eyelids and your undeniable flirty smile.

“Joel, are you flirting with me right now?” You’re feeling bold, and curious to know if you were reading the signs correctly, or letting your brain run a muck in theories.

“I am, darlin.’ Is that..alright? Cus’ if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I can stop.”

“No, please continue to flirt away. I’m glad that you’re getting to see my outfit, Joel. I probably have glitter in places where glitter doesn’t belong.” You said with a light, airy laugh.

“You’ll be finding little bits of glitter all over the place well within the next year. Do you have any to spare?” He asked with a warm chuckle.

“Actually..I do have some to spare.” You reached for your purse along the side of the chair and pulled out your tube of glitter eyeshadow that you had brought just in case you needed any touch ups. “May I?”

“Oh, you really weren’t kiddin’ when you said you have some to spare, huh?” He leaned in closer to get a better look. “That’s a really pretty color, darlin.’ You think I can pull that off?”

“I don’t kid when it comes to my glitter, Joel.” You said teasingly. “I absolutely think you can pull this color off. But, I’ll need you to close your eyes so I can apply this more eveningly.”

“Okay, I’m trustin’ you, darlin.’” He slowly closed his eyes then and only flinched a little when he felt the applicator glide across his eyelid. “Sorry, wasn’t it expectin’ to feel that damn cold.” He murmured softly.

“No worries, Joel. It can be a bit ticklish at times.” You scooted your chair in closer to him so both of your knees were tucked in between his as you delicately applied the shimmering shadow. Your tongue was peeking out between your lips as you focused on the task at hand.

He tried to peek his eye open once, before you playfully scolded him and said, no peeking.

To which he grumbled out a response with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I pretty yet, darlin?’” He asked with his eyes still shut as you admired your work.

“Very pretty, Joel. Okay, you can go ahead and open them.” You pulled out a little handheld mirror from your purse and held it out for him to admire his appearance.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the feeling before he averted his attention to the mirror you were holding. “Oh, shit. Wow. Y’know what..I actually think I like it.” He looked over at you then before he realized how close you were sitting to him. “Thank you, darlin’ I feel like I’m a mirror ball too.”

“It really brings out your eyes, Joel. They were already pretty before, but now, they’re even more beautiful.”

You were already forgetting about how awful you felt earlier, and the guilty feelings for turning down your friend's offer to go out. It admittedly felt nice to talk to another person that shared more things in common with you than you realized. To be validated, and in turn, validate someone as well? It felt really, really good inside.

“So, now that we’re both glittered up, and it’s two hours till the start of the new year, would you maybe care to join me for a drink? Only if you’re feeling up for it, that is.” Joel asked you with his eyes flickering back to yours. Truthfully, he’s happy that you somehow found yourself in his coffee shop tonight. He can’t remember the last time he’s connected with someone on such a deep and personal level.

“I’d love to get a drink with you, Joel.” You don’t even second guess your answer, and if the feelings come up later, so be it. That little voice inside of your head is nowhere to be found as Joel offers you his arm.

You help him finish closing up for the night before the two of you find yourselves walking arm in arm to the bar that his brother Tommy was at. During your walk, you find yourselves falling back into conversation that flows easy like a steady stream. When you bring up feeling guilty for often being a homebody, he reassures you that wanting to spend a quiet evening with yourself is perfectly normal, and it’s something you shouldn’t feel ashamed of. He goes on to add that if you want to go out more, that’s perfectly okay to do as well. But you should never pressure yourself to go out and have a good time, if that’s truly not what you want to do.

And when you find Joel’s brother at the high top with a glass of bubbly in front of him, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “Joel, what is that on your face?” He leans in close to inspect the glitter shadow painted on Joel’s eyelids.

You and Joel turn to one another with two knowing smiles plastered on your faces before you laugh in unison, “it’s glitter, of course!”

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ganseybois · 17 days

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tommy (at this point already casually dating buck) hanging out with eddie and calling him out on his feelings

alternatively eddie last minute helping maddie before the wedding and maddie calling him out on his feelings

or both

both? both. both is good :D i hope you enjoy it, it got a little long haha! if you want to send me a buddie prompt, click here!

Tommy is the first one to bring it up.

They're finishing up on the basketball court, and everyone has filed out by this point, leaving the two of them alone. Tommy is driving Eddie back anyhow, and today was an intense game, so they're taking their time.

Why Tommy chooses to bring it up before the car ride, Eddie doesn't know. But what a way to make it awkward.

"Hey, man I need to tell you something," he says as they return to the car. "So you're not blindsighted when it happens."

"Everything okay?" Eddie asks, clearly concerned.

"Well, not really." he lets out a tired laugh. "Uh...I'm going to be breaking up with Evan. I wanted to tell you so that, you know, you could do what you do and be there for him."

Shocked, Eddie steps in front of Tommy, "Wait, what? I thought things were going great with the two of you." he feels his gut twist uncomfortably - the last thing Eddie wants in the whole world is to see Buck hurt again. "Tommy, come on, Buck is great. He's amazing. There's not a thing about him to not like."

Tommy scoffs, "Believe me, Eddie, I know that."

"So then what's wrong?"

"Eddie, seriously?" Tommy rolls his eyes. "I can't keep dating him and ignore...whatever it is you two have going on. I like Buck, a lot, I do but, there is clearly something between the two of you."

Eddie lets out a small laugh of disbelief. "Tommy," he says, grinning, trying to find his footing in this conversation. The rug has been swept out from under him. Him? And Buck? No way. "He's my best friend. That's all."

"You know Eddie," Tommy rolls his eyes, walking past him now. "I know everyone is a bit of an idiot with love, but you're acting obtuse purposely."

Eddie turns around and follows, "Hey," he snaps. "I'm sorry if we're too close for you to handle, but I'm not going to apologize for being his best friend."

"I don't want you to Eddie, really, I don't. But you should both take your head out of your asses so that you can stop hurting other people."

That stops Eddie from making a retort.

Tommy picks up his pace as he walks over to unlock his door, as though he can escape Eddie and erase the fact that he is also driving Eddie home. That they are going to have to share a space for twenty minutes before Eddie can leave and be alone, and send Tommy on his way to break his best friend’s heart.

Does Eddie love Buck?

Of course.

Buck is his best friend. Why wouldn’t he love him? How could he not? Buck is beautiful, and kind, takes care of his son, and has been there for Eddie since the day that they met. Buck is honest and hopeful, Buck is tender and funny, he is knowledgeable and earnest. He’s the best friend anyone could ever ask for. Eddie knows all this, and of course he loves him for it.

But that doesn’t mean he’s in love with him…does it?

***

“Thank you so much for helping me Eddie,” Maddie sighs as they walk into her house, Eddie with boxes stacked in his arms. He doesn’t even know what’s inside them - Maddie needed help, so he agreed.

“Sure thing,” he kicks the door shut and follows her to the kitchen, gently laying the boxes on the table. “Here’s okay?”

“Perfect,” she rubs his back. “Want some coffee? You’re welcome to stay for a while.”

“Coffee sounds great, thanks,” Eddie nods, watching her move around her kitchen. He feels a little awkward–he likes Maddie just fine, but really, he hasn’t spent too much time with her, so he isn’t sure where to strike conversation. They already spent an hour talking about kids in his truck, he feels like he’s used Christopher enough.

“So,” she says, tone careful and light, prepping mugs. “Did Buck tell you about Tommy?”

“Yeah, he did.” Eddie murmurs, Tommy and Buck broke up three days ago. Eddie listened to Buck tell the story, and hugged him tight. He gave him beer, ordered him food, and let Buck stay over for the night so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

At least you’re always going to be here, Eddie, right?

Nowhere else I’d rather be, Buck.

Eddie broke up with Marisol a day later. He has tried not to think too hard about why that is but…he has spent the last three days thinking about what Tommy has said.

Eddie clears his throat. “It sucks, I thought this would work out for Buck for sure.”

Maddie sighs sadly, starting to prepare the coffee for them, before she turns around and gazes at him fondly. “I already knew it wouldn’t.” When Eddie just continues to look at her, she rolls her eyes and smiles. “Eddie, come on.”

“What?” he asks.

“Seriously? You’re going to make me spell it out for you?”

He feels his heart skip a beat, understanding dawning on him. “Maddie,” he shakes his head with a small laugh, although what he wants is to run in the other fucking direction. “Listen-”

“All I do is listen, Eddie. I listen to my brother talk about you like you hung the sun in the sky. I listen to him complain when he can’t see you and Chris. I listen to him talk about everything you do for him, everything you say to him.”

“He’s my best friend,” Eddie says, feeling cornered.

“I know that I really do. And maybe I’m wrong, maybe I don’t know you as well as I think I do but…I know my brother. It could have never worked with Tommy, because he was too busy being in love with you.”

“Maddie-”

“Hey, maybe I’m wrong,” she says, pouring their coffee. Why do these things never happen when he’s about to leave? “But look into his eyes Eddie, and you’ll see it. Promise me.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

A little part of him admits that he’s afraid to look. Afraid of what he’ll find.

“Maddie,” he says softly. “He’s my best friend.”

“Eddie.” she sighs. “You look at Buck the way I look at Chimney. The way Karen looks at Hen. The way Bobby looks at Athena. This is so far beyond what you think it is. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I promise.”

***

Eddie thinks about it all the way to Buck’s house.

He thinks about his life, about what makes sense, about his son, and what makes sense in his son’s life. He thinks about the obvious - is he happier when Buck is around? Yes. Did he like Marisol? Not really. Was that because of Buck? He doesn’t know.

Does he miss Buck when he’s not there? Yes.

Does he think Buck makes him a better person? Yes.

Does he love Buck? Yes.

Yes.

He makes it to Buck’s apartment and knocks on the door. It opens a moment later.

Look into his eyes, Eddie.

Eddie looks.

Buck smiles, bright as a thousand suns. Just because Eddie thought to come over, to just spend time with him.

Buck’s eyes sparkle – there is love there, warmth, undying devotion.

Eddie, finally, can see.

“Can I come in?” Eddie asks.

Buck steps aside, and Eddie takes the first step into the rest of his life.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 prompt #buddie prompt #ask #prompt #buck x eddie

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steviewashere · 3 days

Note

For the kiss prompt....Steddie and 40 please because I saw it and had a burning need for it!

❤️❤️

Okay, this one is far less angsty (I'm hoping) than yesterday's, lol. But I appreciate this prompt a lot. <3

Number 40: "Because the world is ending."

Tags: Season 4, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, First Kiss, Slight Love Confession, Steve Harrington has a Bisexual Awakening, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Lives, Last Minute Promises, Protective Steve Harrington

💕—————💕 There was a weight in the way Eddie’s vest laid on Steve’s back. Something that nailed him to the floor, kept him under the clouds but above ground, that anchored him to existence. It provided a sense of security that Steve hadn’t felt in…three or more years.

But there was something about Eddie’s gaze, too, that provided that same amount of comfort. Just one glimpse, one stupid little sentence about lost loves, one panicked nervous fit of laughter—it was enough to make something inside Steve squirm. The same thing he kept away in his own Pandora’s box, deep inside the crevice of his chest behind sinew. It’s where Tommy existed at one point, maybe a few other boys from elementary school. He knew what it was, the pull in Eddie’s gaze. Or, really, the magnetism that Eddie’s eyes held.

It made Steve want to stare back. Made him want to stop the world’s rotation. Made him want to find a way to reverse time, prevent all the evils of his life, find Eddie sooner. He wanted Eddie the same way mosquitos yearn for amber light. Icarus to the sun. Something strong, invasive, all consuming.

Love, he realized. He wanted love from Eddie.

Which makes it all worse when they’re going over game plans. Eddie going with Dustin. Dustin going with Eddie. Nancy and Robin going with him to the Creel house. Max and Lucas and Erica being all too far. There was that pull. A protective surge. Flames in his veins.

It was all so stupid. So careless. Everything they chose to do. The way Eddie knew about some gun store. How his body read nonchalance, but the way his hands shook when pointing out what kind of weapons they could find there. Steve wanted to reach down and wrap his own hands around Eddie’s, squeeze them still, bring his knuckles to between his eyebrows. Do something silly. Like kiss them or kiss Eddie or carve a spot behind his ribs and force Eddie inside of there.

That magnetic pull is back full force once they’re right side up in the Upside Down. Dustin’s a whole four inches shorter than Eddie. Covered in scrap and a hood. And he looks childish, dorky, how he should have been the last several years. Yet there’s a matured gleam to his eyes that haunts Steve, even as he stares it down. And when he glances to Eddie, looking reasonably the same—immature and dorky—green vest that isn’t zipped up, DIY’d leather jacket, ammo belt, and a pair of ill-fitting shiny boots. Steve can only wonder what it would be like to see Eddie not here, not in these circumstances, in his usual appearance. How more…beautiful he’d be if he weren’t so damned afraid.

If Eddie weren’t staring at Steve with something like goodbye. He forces himself to turn away, to stop looking, to stop wanting when there’s no sure presence of tomorrow. It’s like he’s being gifted a litter of kittens, being told not to get attached. Except, he’s already come up with names and collar colors and places where he could put beds. He’s got an idea of where Eddie would be soft if Steve could touch his skin. What nicknames would make him flush and what petnames would make him melt. Steve doesn’t want to be attached, but at the same time, he doesn’t think he ever had the choice.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie calls to him.

A crunching step forward. Steve forces himself frozen to his spot. His back tenses, shoulders hiking, the axe on his back brushes his hair. It’s cold, the metal is solid and real and sharp. His hands are shaking and his eyes are burning and there’s an iron grip around his lungs. Stomach turning and lurching and falling straight to his feet. He doesn’t turn, not yet. Not with the stern and sudden confidence to Eddie’s voice. Don’t get attached, he’s not yours to keep, a voice echoes deep inside him. I want him. I want him, though, that’s not fair, and that’s the petulant part of him. Something he thought he lost when he knocked on Jonathan Byers’s door.

He expects Eddie to continue, but he doesn’t. The rush of blood is loud in Steve’s ears. There’s no other voices. No other sounds. He’d think that the demo-creatures would’ve sounded off by now, but there’s nothing. The weight of everything, he realizes, is behind him.

Over his shoulder, Eddie’s eyes are fierce. No longer pulling on Steve’s arm, rather squeezing him tight by the shoulders, hauling him into his orbit, pressing their bodies and souls tight. Steve is startled and stirring and flippant. He shouldn’t leave. Doesn’t want to. Not when Eddie is…Eddie is what he wants.

And while his eyes are fierce, they are checking out. Somewhere else. And yet, they’re here. For Steve to fall into. And for him to cradle the sure absence Eddie is preparing to make.

“Make him pay,” Eddie’s voice demands. It’s neutral, neither loud and overbearing nor soft and assuring. His voice is a grenade, ring pulled but hammer still intact. Steve wants to pick it up and place it inside his chest. Wants to obliterate at the impact and sound.

He swallows. Wavers. Nods. And turns away.

But he doesn’t take a first step. He just stands, caught between worlds and passions and full body aches. A shiver crawling up his spine and into the back of his mouth. He swears he tastes it, decay. Something leaving and rotting, just as Eddie’s footsteps begin to retreat. To dissipate. Steve doesn’t want to forget the sound.

Without much on his mind, without any preamble or warning, Steve whirls back around. Stomps inside Eddie’s dusty footprints. Their shoes aligning to one another, the same size. His eyes burn lasers into Eddie’s back, but neither of them stop moving. It’s not until Steve is nearly at the front door to the Munson’s trailer that he’s able to grasp to something. His left hand wraps around Eddie’s right forearm. Gripping with the force of hippopotamus jaws. And he tugs Eddie to him. To face him.

Eddie’s eyes look to him in trepidation. There’s something else, like he’s realizing he’s been caught. An apology forming on the tip of his tongue. Before he can part his lips to say anything, Steve takes his right hand and forces his fingernails to indent into Eddie’s cheeks, squishing his lips to be slightly puckered, and drags him towards his face.

Their noses meet first. Soft and tantalizing. Breathing the same air. Steve, for a moment, can smell Eddie’s breath. And he doesn’t care, that neither of them have brushed their teeth in several days. That they’re tasting each other’s rot and stale words. He doesn’t care.

Slowly, he leans the rest of the way in. Pressing his lips to Eddie’s softly. Just soaking in their warmth. How dry and chapped and splitting they are. Pushes in more firmly, fluttering his eyes shut at the sensation. Breathing in gulps through his nose. Messy and wet on Eddie’s lips, but all the same a: ‘The world is ending, so nothing matters, but you matter and my world will end otherwise.’

And when he pulls his head back, he notices that Eddie wasn’t responsive at all. He wasn’t, but Steve doesn’t feel rejected, for once. Or negated. Or pulled taut and snapped in half. His chest glows with a low-level warmth, radiating between them like a candle’s near-dying flame. He digs his fingernails out of Eddie’s skin and cups his cheeks instead. Like protecting that little bit of light melting away at them. He opens his eyes, met with bewilderment and silence and fear and curiosity and…yearning. But also, there’s something shining back on Eddie’s face like a dream has just come true.

Steve takes a sharp, quick inhale. Whispers, “Don’t be a hero.” He’s already said it, he knows that. But…Eddie was never going to listen and he should’ve known that from the get-go. “Don’t be stupid,” he continues, “and you come back here. Come back to me.”

“Wha—“

“Come back to me,” Steve urges. “I want to know you. And I want to have you. I want to…I want to need you all the time, you understand me? Come back to me, all in one piece, away from danger. Or else I will kill you myself.” He nods once. Swipes his thumb over Eddie’s still jutting bottom lip. “Promise,” he demands lowly, “promise I can see you again.”

Eddie’s gulp is loud between them. His breath puffing hot and cold over Steve’s fingers. But his voice has lost all ferocity. Going soft and controlled and loving. “I promise, Stevie,” he murmurs, “I promise I’ll find you back here.”

Steve nods one more time. Short and affirmative and final. He draws his hands away. Zips up Eddie's vest. And brings them back to being limp at his sides. The very foundation of his being shakes. “Good. And I like that. I like that name, Eds. Call me that again, promise.”

“Promise,” Eddie echoes.

“Not a goodbye,” Steve feels the need to say.

“Just a see you later,” Eddie states. And there’s an honest tone to him that settles all the frayed nerve endings inside of Steve. Before he gets the chance to turn back, Eddie gently cradles his face in turn. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Just for luck,” he murmurs, “be safe.”

There’s a weight in those words, too. Steve tethers to them.

And they ring out at the final blow to Vecna, as the flames engulf on all sides of the house. When they return to one another and all that’s wrong is a splash of ugly dark blood on Eddie’s cheek.

They’re safe. The world will always end, but they’re safe.

💕—————💕 Kiss Ask Game <3

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #Eddie munson lives #angst and #angst and hurt/comfort #first kiss

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pizzaqueen · 11 months

Text

This was meant to be a 200 word thing in case I don’t get my bigger fic for today finished but it ended up a little longer! I’m still hoping to get my longer fic finished as well but at least there’s this

Set during Steve and Eddie’s joint senior year; pre-slash and I guess it could be interpreted as bullying (not between Steve and Eddie)

605 words / rated T / for day three of @steddie-week hurt/comfort

Eddie hopes whoever invented dodgeball is burning in a hell he doesn’t believe in.

It’s not like he can’t—and doesn’t—give as good as he gets, throwing the balls as hard as he can back at the jock assholes who target him and the few other freaks in their grade. But all it takes is one second not paying attention and Eddie ends up with the beginnings of a black eye and an ache in his jaw.

Hagan high-fives one of his dickhead friends and Eddie flips them all the bird, grinning, hoping there’s blood on his teeth. There’s a metallic taste in his mouth, anyway.

He’s told to walk it off—“Walk off my face?”—which he does, right out of the gym, and out to sit on a bench until he figures it’s safe to go back to the locker room for his shit.

At least no one comes to drag him back in and, when he sees everyone else file out, he slinks back so he can change and grab his bag. He’s sitting on the bench, tying up his shoes, when a pair of sneakered feet appear in front of him.

“Here.” A hand thrusts something wrapped in a dishcloth under his nose.

He looks up to see Steve Harrington standing there, holding whatever it is out for Eddie to take. Eddie’s eyes narrow.

“It’s just ice.” Harrington waggles his hand. “Figured you could use some.”

Eddie stares a moment longer, then he takes the proffered wrapped ice. He’s pretty sure there’s no ulterior motive here and, anyway, Harrington’s never targeted him. Or anyone really. He mostly ignores Eddie, and Eddie mostly ignores him. “Where’d you even get this?”

“I have my ways.”

“That’s mysterious.” Eddie holds the ice to his face, hissing at the touch. There’s going to be a gnarly bruise later. When Harrington just stands there, Eddie adds, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh, yeah, don’t want to keep all my friends waiting,” Steve mutters, crossing his arms.

Eddie’s brow furrows. It’s been a while since he’s seen Harrington with his usual crew, not that Eddie pays that much attention. He thinks he’s still on the prom committee or yearbook or both. Whatever popular kids do. But, if Eddie thinks about it, he’s pretty sure he’s usually alone otherwise. It’s weird, but Eddie’s whole face hurts, and he just wants to go home.

Still, he’s got manners, so he says, “Thanks for the ice.”

Harrington shrugs one shoulder. “It’s cool.”

“Very. Frozen in fact.”

Harrington snorts, then he bites his lip. “Hey, uh… Don’t let those guys get to you. Tommy’s an asshole.”

“I know. And I don’t.”

“Okay.”

A strange silence hangs over the locker room and Eddie’s not entirely sure what’s happening.

And then Harrington says, “Anyway, just… “ looking at Eddie. He picks up his bag, slinging it over one shoulder. “Remember to dodge next time.”

Eddie gives a little salute, which gets the ghost of a smile from Harrington and watches him walk out the locker room. He sits there a while longer, holding the melting ice to his face, before he finally grabs his bag and heads out to his van.

The parking lot is pretty much empty, except for a few teachers’ cars, so Harrington has obviously gone home. If it wasn’t for the wet dishcloth on the passenger seat, Eddie could easily believe it was some kind of concussed daydream. But it wasn’t. It was real.

Eddie shakes his head, shoving the key into the ignition. Steve Harrington bringing him ice is definitely the weirdest thing that’s happened to him.

#steddie #Steve x eddie #Steddie fic #Steddie fanfic #steddieweek2023 #Eddie munson #steve harrington #this is the first thing I’ve written that wasn’t set post S4!!!#it’s not my usual thing but it was fun to do something different #anyway I really hope I get my longer fic finished!!!#Pizzaqueenfic

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dutiful-wildcraft · 6 days

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TW: disordered eating, food insecurity

Soap grew up as a chubby boy, his whole family was really, stalky with healthy layers of fat over there bones, a combination of lifestyle and just plain ole genetics. It was a point of pride from his mam, who fed them potatoes and rice and pastas, easy and cheap carbs to keep her babies bellies full despite their struggling income.

Johnny, who'd never felt bad about it until school, where his peers teased him for his soft rolls and clothes that fit him just shy of too tight. Johnny who scarfed down all the food on his tray at lunch and never wasted a bite.

It broke his heart more to see it aimed at his sisters. His beautiful sisters, with their sweet round faces and kind smiles. The same sisters who shared his bulky shoulders and soft tummy, who gave the warmest cuddles and best advice.

Soap who started to bulk up and become leaner to beat anyone's ass who dare insult them again.

Soap who still has stretch marks on his thighs and belly well into his career, stripes he still wears with pride.

Gaz who has a food aversion from a childhood filled with obsessions over carbs and calories and sugars. His gran and mum, who were viciously concerned about their own figures when he was just a boy.

Gaz who lived in an “ingredient household.” Gaz who had to sneak food in the night for fear of punishment. Gaz who's snacks were nasty protein bars or meal replacement shakes. Gaz who was trained to look at every food label and compare nutrition facts, who cut his food into tiny pieces, or ate only in a certain order. (Chugging water makes you feel full he'd learned) Gaz who started checking his body and weight multiple times a day.

Gaz who still struggles despite trying to repair his relationship with food well into adulthood. On base, chugging an energy drink and eating a granola bar for breakfast isn't blinked at. Not eating at all doesn't look suspicious when out in dangerous operations.

Soap learns to refuse Gaz when he innocently tries to offer up the rest of his dinner in the mess. Ghost who peels off all the nutrition labels on the food when he grocery shops for the team. Price who makes sure they both stay fed when together on ops.

Ghost who had been scrawny his whole life. Little Simon who's ribs were visible, who's skin bruised like a peach. Who ate what little they could scrounge up but still saved some for his mum and Tommy.

Simon who is averse to food textures, who struggled to choke down whatever meager meal that was put in front of him.

Simon who's stress and anxiety chronically made his stomach hurt, made putting on weight nearly impossible, made eating what was put in front of him miserable when he knew his father would beat him if he refused to eat the broccoli that made his stomach churn.

Simon who got a job at the butcher shop as soon as he could. Who packed home the trash cuts so he and his family could have something of substance.

Simon who was turned away from the military the first time because he couldn't meet weight requirements.

Simon who gorged himself on meat and rice until he wanted to vomit, just to force some weight on.

Simon who learned to chew fast and swallow quickly with the disgusting textures of military gruel.

Simon who now eats the same meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday on base without fail. Simon who still cant bring himself to waste a single thing put in front of him, regardless of if it pains him to do so.

#Price is just doing his fucking best trying to get these men to eat right #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #task force 141 #disordered eating #soap mactavish #ghost cod #soap cod #gaz cod

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mattzerella-sticks · 17 days

Text

dropping bi (ao3)

1.9 k, Buck/Tommy, Coming Out

Buck is easing into dating men, taking it one step at a time. Tommy's been a great partner through all of it. After a wonderful date in which Tommy spent the night at Buck's, Buck tumbles into the next step of his journey of self-discovery when his family makes an unexpected, unannounced, visit.

Buck eases awake beside a still sleeping Tommy. He stretches and hears his spine pop and crack into alignment as he turns over, so they’re face to face, nose to nose, for when Tommy’s eyes flutter and he begins to stir. Giddiness overwhelms Buck in that moment, his joy shooting forward like a sprout out the ground after a long, harsh winter, whose leaves unfurl while basking in the celebratory sunlight. He doesn’t fight this feeling, doesn’t force himself to temper it. Buck allows this seedling to grow and bend and blossom into a wide grin which nearly splits his face in half when he welcomes Tommy into consciousness.

“Morning.”

Tommy’s gooey stare echoes Buck’s expression. “Hey,” he says and slides his hand towards Buck, placing two fingers under Buck’s chin – his signal – to better guide Buck into a gentle kiss.

Buck sighs as their lips touch and he melts against Tommy.

His breath might stink, but he cannot make himself care with how Tommy gnaws on his lower lip. He’s sweaty, but Buck is grateful he is when Tommy slides his other hand beneath his damp shirt, tugging it higher, caressing his sides. He has to pee soon, but not so soon that having their legs slot together brings any discomfort.

Kissing Tommy is like magic. Worry and awkwardness, ‘what if’s and ‘maybe’s fade into the background since all of Buck’s focus is drawn in by the other man’s gravity the longer they stay within each other’s orbits. Buck never wants to leave him, this embrace, his bed…

But then Buck hears his front door open. The spell breaks, and so does their kiss.

Tommy presses his thumb against the cleft in Buck’s chin and asks him, “Were you expecting company?”

Buck shakes his head. “No, I –“

“Buck? Are you here?”

It’s Maddie, followed by Chimney calling for him, “Yo! Buck!” and Jee-Yun, squealing, clapping, asking after her “Uncle Buck! Uncle Buck!”

Buck leaps from his bed to lean over the railing, catching them as they enter the kitchen area. Maddie eases herself into one of the chairs by the table with Jee-Yun playing with a toy as she sits on her lap, meanwhile Chimney directs himself to the coffee maker and tosses a tumbler back and forth between his hands. Buck coughs, clears his throat, and tries to summon up his earlier smile.

The waning grimace he manages hurts to wear, but he persists.

“Hey,” his voice cracks. “Hey. Why – what are you all doing here?”

Maddie sighs. She brushes a few stray hairs away from her face as she explains, “Our stove stopped working last night.”

“Without warning,” Chimney adds, “With only twenty minutes left on our roast.” He presses a few buttons on Buck’s coffee maker. It growls and whirrs and almost bites him. “Mind you, we’ve only had this stove for less than a year, and it just breaks! Had to finish cooking dinner on the grill. It was awful!”

“Anyway,” Maddie cuts Chimney off, continuing, “we were on our way over to see about getting a new stove, maybe grabbing something to eat as well… and wanted to see if you’d join us?”

On any other day, he would. Today is inopportune.

“Oh, well –“ Buck fumbles through an excuse, fingers flexing along the loft railing during his speech. “I’m sorry that happened, and I really would like to go, it’s just – I’ve got a few things of my own I got planned today, and I’d hate to crash your day out together.”

“You wouldn’t be crashing,” Maddie says. “We’re inviting you.”

“I guess, but –“

“And it’s not like we can’t help you with your errands,” Chimney tells him. “We’ll make a whole day of it. I’m pretty much game for anything – anything that’s not leaving a flaming bag of doo-doo on Tommy’s front step, that is.”

Heat prickles at the base of his neck, where he knows Tommy’s eyes are, and leaks across his back like magma as Chimney and Maddie share a laugh. His skin must be splotchy and red and so obvious. “C’mon,” he protests weakly, “it’s not like that…”

“So you’ve gotten over this little thing you had about Eddie making new friends?” Maddie asks him.

“Well, I –“

“I’d like to think he has.”

Tommy stands beside Buck on the railing, a hand laid along his shoulder while the other curls over his blanching knuckles gripped, he realizes, way too tight to the railing.

Chimney and Maddie fall silent. Buck knows they’re shocked, and rapidly putting pieces together. It’s not a hard puzzle. Buck and Tommy each in their undershirts and boxers, sleep mussed, swollen lips, hardly an inch of space between them. The dots connect themselves.

“Tommy, can you –“

“Yeah,” he says, pressing his lips to Buck’s cheek, stealing half his breath from him while making their situation even that more simple to guess. “I could use a shower right now anyway.” He squeezes Buck’s hands as he peels off to gather last night’s clothes and head for the shower.

On the last step, he pauses and asks, “Towels are –“

“Are in a linen closet, in the bathroom. Next to the shower,” Chimney answers.

Tommy winks at him, “Thanks.”

No one says anything more until the bathroom door clicks shut, and Buck hurriedly descends from his bedroom.

Maddie says, “Buck was that –“ And Buck says, “I know.”

Chimney says, “You and he were –“ And Buck says, “We were.”

Maddie says, “So you and he are…” She trails off.

And Buck? Buck stops after reaching the table, hovering across from where Maddie sits. He looks at her, as she watches him like he was some glass figurine teetering on the edge, about to break. He looks at Chimney, who still hasn’t reigned his eyebrows back down from when Tommy’s unannounced appearance made them fly into his hairline. He looks at Jee-Yun, who doesn’t care at all what’s happening because she’s making her doll do a little dance on his table.

Buck focuses on her dance while he speaks. “Tommy and I are dating,” he says to the doll. He inhales. He exhales. His shoulders sag from the release. “We’ve been hanging out the past couple of weeks. Last night was our… third date.”

A wonderful third date that Tommy planned. He drove Buck all across town, paid for everything, pampering Buck in a manner he was unaccustomed to but absolutely loved. They ate hot wings and played a few rounds of pool. They saw the latest Guy Ritchie film and shared a tub of popcorn between them. They visited a roller disco, Tommy ensuring Buck never fell by keeping his hands at his waist, chin hooked over his shoulder, and syncing their gaits to the music and each other. Finally, after hanging up their skates for an hour at the bar, the two took a midnight stroll to sober up.

As the breezes became gusts which cut through the thin fabric of Buck’s paper-thin button up, Tommy silently wrapped his jacket over Buck’s shoulders and drew him into his arms, and they walked the rest of the way back to the car with Buck’s heart throbbing in his chest.

By the time they arrived at Buck’s apartment around two o’clock in the morning, there wasn’t any thought of letting Tommy drive home.

“So, last night… did you –“

“No,” Buck says. He collapses into a seat, takes the mug of coffee that had been placed in front of him – by Chimney, but when? – and focuses on its warmth, its weight in his hands. “I don’t think… we aren’t at that stage yet.”

Fooling around, fondling, making out like a couple of teenagers who only recently discovered how great it felt to reach beyond their waistbands were all they did. Buck didn’t mention that. Not with Jee-Yun in the room.

“And you,” Maddie starts, “Are you –“

“I’m not gay,” Buck bristles. He scowls into the coffee, “I mean – I like guys. I really like Tommy. But… I wasn’t faking it before. With girls. I like them, too.”

“Of course,” Maddie agrees. She curls her hand around his wrist and tugs, pulling him from the whirling abyss in his mug, that mirrored the path his thoughts were heading onto. He glances up at her and sees her guarded expression gone, replaced with a softness suffused with unbreakable love. He regresses to that kid he used to be in its presence, who was a bundle of limbs tethered together by anger and adrenaline, who’s sole respite from the too small world of Hershey, Pennsylvania was when his sister would comb her fingers through his curls and tell him it would be okay. Her phantom touch scratches his scalp while her thumbs rub into his pulse point. “What I wanted to ask,” she says, “is are you happy?”

And he feels bad for thinking she’d ask anything other than that. He doesn’t tell her this, though. He nods and says “Yes” and laughs when she laughs and smiles when she smiles. It’s different than what he showed Tommy, but not any less genuine.

“Good. I’m happy, then,” she tells him. “And so proud of you, Evan.”

“So am I,” Chimney says. He drops his full weight onto Buck’s shoulders, squeezing him into a hug. “Though I could strangle you for your taste in men.”

Buck pouts at him, “What’s wrong with Tommy?”

“Have you seen him?” Chimney squawks. “How am I supposed to give Tommy ‘the talk’, threaten him if he ever breaks your heart? Dude knows Muay Thai…”

“Chim…”

“And he flies helicopters!” he rambles on, “He could chop my head off with one of those blades before I can get close enough.”

“And have the entire 118 string me up by a truck ladder, extend it, and drive under an overpass? No thank you.”

Tommy emerges from the bathroom, fully clothed, running a towel over his slick wet hair. He struts towards the group, taking his place beside Buck. “I wouldn’t harm a hair on your head,” he says to Chimney. Then, he locks eyes with Buck. “Or yours, either.”

Tommy searches Buck’s face to ensure he’s okay, and Buck acknowledges he is with a nod as he offers the cooling mug of coffee to Tommy. He accepts it.

Buck stands. “I guess it’s my turn to shower,” he says, “if we want to make it to the store before it gets too crowded.”

“You don’t have to –“

“It’ll be fun,” Buck says. “Like a… weird double date, right?”

“I’m game,” Tommy tells them. “I actually just replaced my stove a month ago, we can stop by the shop where I got mine and schedule an installation. I’m friends with the mechanic so it won’t be that long of a wait time.”

Chimney claps him on the back. “You’re a lifesaver, man.”

“Aren’t we all.”

Buck laughs and shuffles away to the bathroom, throwing out a “Don’t embarrass me while I’m gone” over his shoulder that’s met with a “No promises” from both his sister and his friend and his – boyfriend, is it too soon? It doesn’t matter. He’s in too good of spirits to be brought down.

When alone in the steamy bathroom, Buck wipes at the mirror to see his reflection, places his fingers where Tommy had them and tilts his face this way and that, and notices how bright and cheery his face is. It’s a welcome sight. Buck likes it, likes who he is and how his family does, too.

Buck deserves this, and for once actually believes that he does.

@free-to-be-impaled tagging you per your request.

#911 abc #911 ao3 #bucktommy #evan 'buck' buckley #tommy kinard #maddie buckley #howie 'chimney' han #madney #bi buck #canon bisexual buck #bucktommy fanfic

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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Home Pt.9 - END || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: E Words: 1.8K Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: death, death of a CHILD, house fire, corpses, grief, cemetery, some smut. Tags: you/your pronouns, SOME SMUT, ANGST, HURT NO COMFORT, heartbreak, grief and loss, loss of identity, canonical Ghost backstory, UNHAPPY ENDING. a/n: not proofread. THIS IS THE END (it WILL be angst and nothing else... but I'll write a happy ending alternative soon).

[← Previous] || [MY MASTERLIST]

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Is it macabre to attend your own funeral? Probably.

Nonetheless, Simon Ghost found himself standing near the back of the cemetery, watching on.

His family wasn’t particularly well-loved in the neighborhood… but when a tragedy like this happens, especially one involving a boy so young as his nephew Joseph… everyone and their mother comes out to pay respects. It’s the “proper thing to do”, they say, even though it’s only out of pity.

However, he has to admit that seeing Oliver, Archie, Jack and Harry, his old mates, come to pay respects, accompanied by their respective families, pulled at his heartstrings a bit. Especially when Archie tapped Oliver in the back while the latter cried.

He’s been here the entire time watching the people come and go, flowers being thrown down into the holes of the Riley family communal grave, and other arrangements being spread all over and around the headstones. Four holes in total. First, ‘Simon’, then his mum Joanna, then Tommy… Then Beth and Joseph in the same one.

It was close-casket, the bodies too badly burned to allow anything else. The fake Simon has the cheapest coffin he could get, leaving the best for his mum, Tommy and Beth… And he had forced himself to pick a beautiful little white coffin for Joseph. He didn’t even think they made coffins that small.

Per his request, they lowered Joseph into the hole first, Beth’s larger coffin covering the little boy’s. Just like she was when Ghost found them. Her lifeless body curled over Joseph’s, cradling him tight to keep him safe below her own chest… It was fruitless.

Ghost allows himself to take a deep breath as, finally, the last few people have walked off. The sun is starting to set and people can only pretend to grieve for so long before the cold wind and the darkness makes them go back home.

In his skull-printed balaclava, black beanie, and black hoodie, Ghost basically blends into the shadows that are starting to take over the cemetery, standing under a tree as his eyes trace the last people walking away from the open graves.

Just days ago Ghost himself was in one of these… buried alive. That’s the night Simon Riley died, he’d say, though, officially, he died in the house fire that took his entire family… A faulty heater during Christmas Eve, you see?

Lost in thought, Ghost doesn’t realize it until now that someone lingered behind. A woman. She moves slowly, tentatively, in the direction of the graves, carrying a couple of bouquets.

More of the same, he thinks… Though he secretly admires the commitment to stay here as the sky is darkening and the air is cooling down.

She places one of the arrangements near the headstones, somewhere amidst the mess of all the other ones…

She flicks on the torch on her phone, to read the names on them… And very gingerly crouches, right in front of ‘his’ grave. She lowers the second bouquet onto it and tosses it carefully on top of the coffin.

Then, she lays her forearms on her knees, letting her hands hang between her legs as she remains crouched in front of his grave. Only to then watch her fold her hands and bring them up to her mouth, to hide the fact she’s crying. He can tell from the way her shoulders rise and fall and and her whole form shakes.

From this distance, he can’t hear her speak, and with the darkness, he can’t see her face.

But he knows.

He knows it’s you.

He watches you fish something out of your pocket and, slowly, toss it down onto the grave too.

He feels his breath being taken away torturously slowly… It feels like someone has grabbed his lungs and forcefully wrung out the air from them like water off a wet rag.

He’s suffocating.

“Merry Christmas!” You cheerfully squealed as you tossed your arms around his neck from behind, strangling him a bit and, shaking him from side to side.

It was freezing outside and you had rushed out in the early morning so you could exchange gifts.

You were twelve, he was thirteen.

“Bloody hell, Y/N, are you tryin’ to kill me?!” He complained playfully as you let go and fake pouted… Then you both broke into laughter.

He tossed a bag of Cadbury mini-eggs at you, which you caught with a giggle. Then, you carefully handed him a little box with a Terry’s chocolate orange in it.

It was all either of you could afford.

“Merry Christmas, you pain in the arse.” He grumbled at you… As if he didn’t have a massive crush on you.

You were thirteen, he was fourteen.

“Merry Christmas, Sleepin’ Beauty.” He said it first, as he watched you sneak out the door carefully at 1:30 A.M. You had agreed to meet at midnight but you took your sweet time because you accidentally overslept.

“Shut up, you tosser.” You scoffed as you stopped in front of him, exchanging your gifts.

Terry’s chocolate orange, Cadbury mini-eggs.

“Go back inside, it’s freezin’.” Simon added as he watched you shiver in your pajamas. Poor thing, he thought, as if he hadn’t been here, in the freezing cold, waiting for you for over an hour.

“I will, I will!” You announced dramatically. “Merry Christmas, Riley.” You added as you reached up and kissed his cheek.

Then you turned and rushed back inside. Leaving him outside... but the chill in his bones was long forgotten.

You were fourteen, he was fifteen.

The wall clock at your local pub announced it was midnight.

“Merry Christmas, love.” He told you as he surprised you by dangling the Cadbury mini eggs bag in front of your face.

You leaned up and stole a kiss off his lips, his mouth melting into yours. Your friends around you complained in mock disgust at your PDA.

You pulled away and stuck your tongue out at them, mocking them back, before you turned all your attention to Simon.

You reached into your little shoulder bag and pulled out his chocolate orange, handing it to him. “Merry Christmas.” You told him and smiled sweetly.

You were fifteen, he was sixteen.

You were cuddling in the backseat of his dad’s Renault Clio, smoking together.

You had dozed off a couple of times by now, feeling warm and cosy in his arms, as usual.

Simon looked out of the window, enjoying the sight of the empty farm fields, lightly speckled in white snow.

“Darlin’?” Simon called for you and you stirred awake again.

You lifted your head from his chest, ever so slightly, where you had been lulled to sleep by his rhythmic heartbeat.

“Hm?” You murmured groggily.

“Merry Christmas, lovie.” He whispers as he kisses your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Riley…” You return as you nuzzle up to his neck, your nose rubbing against his skin.

You’d exchange your gifts before he dropped you off at home…

You were sixteen, he was seventeen.

It was tight in that backseat, his body no longer fitting lengthwise across the backseat and yours just barely fitting too.

Simon thrusted into you, holding one of your legs over his shoulder, while the other wrapped around his hip. His knees were bent and his head was pressed flush against the smooth roof of the car.

Your moans were loud and almost pornographic, forcing him to have to kiss you to shut you up. But even then, he kept up a hard and unforgiving pace, his hips slamming into yours feverishly.

It all stemmed from the undeniable hunger you felt for one another after three months apart while he was in Basic Training.

He couldn’t get enough of you, the way you looked up at him with those tear-filled eyes, your face red from the heat, your breaths erratic, your forehead dripping with sweat…

“Been… thinking… about this… for so long…” He grunted through the strain of trying to hold back his orgasm.

“Simon!” You moaned, your voice jumpy and high-pitched as he kept the rhythm that was driving you both to the brink of exhaustion.

“Three… bloody… fuckin’... months… without you…” He groaned. “God…” He grunted. “Keep moanin’ for me, darlin’... Show me who you belong to.” He demanded.

And you did. You made sure to make yourself heard, calling his name and whining, desperately so, as he made you both reach your limits.

As you both winded down, your weak legs wrapped around his hip, his head lying on your sweaty breasts, he looked up at you. “I love you.” Simon told you.

Your eyes softened when you looked down at him, his brown eyes seemingly even more beautiful that night than they ever had been. “I love you too.” You told him softly.

He pushed up and kissed you sweetly and, after glancing at the dash clock out of the corner of his eye, he chuckled against your lips.

“Merry Christmas.” He murmured. You probably replied something of the sort as well, though he kissed you back into silence.

You would exchange your gifts soon after.

You were seventeen, he was eighteen.

Simon was at the mess, shoulder-to-shoulder with his fellow Corporals, squeezed tight so they could all fit at the table.

His rifle hung around his back, as he lowered his head like an obedient dog while shoveling mashed potatoes and slices of roast turkey into his mouth.

The CO had barked a hurried “Merry Christmas” to the troops before allowing them to dig in.

They hurried to eat.

Simon was one of the first to stand up and rush his tray to the tray return trolley, and then slap his helmet on.

Then, he dashed out the door to join his platoon in the frontlines, swinging his rifle forward.

There was no Terry’s Chocolate Orange that time…

There was never going to be another one.

By the time Simon Ghost finally catches his breath again, you’re pushing back up onto your feet. He imagines you’re about to walk off and leave… But you don’t.

The sun has fully set by now, bathing the cemetery in darkness… And there you are. Still standing.

Grieving over him.

His chest hurts, his heart squeezing with the realization that you are not taking his death well… Even after 15 years.

He wishes he could go forward… To tell you he’s not actually dead… that he just needed to pretend.

He wants to ask you how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, to tell you how grateful he is that you came, how proud he is that you’re alive and healthy, by the looks of it.

He wants to tell you about his regrets, he wants to apologize, he wants to tell you he wanted to marry you, that he's never loved another woman like he's loved you.

But he doesn’t.

He simply continues to watch you from a distance as you hang around for a long, long time. Longer than anyone else. Hell, longer than Oliver did.

He watches your figure seemingly take a deep breath… And then… you start walking off toward the car park

He’s tempted to follow after you, even if just to watch… just for a moment more.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he walks up quietly toward 'his' grave, spotting what you threw into it easily.

He recognizes the shiny foil of a Terry's Chocolate Orange amidst the flowers without any issue.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before turning and walking away.

There was a time when you found a home in each other's arms...

But that's dead and buried now... Just like the chocolate orange will be.

And that's for the best.

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[← Previous] || [MY MASTERLIST]

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

Thank you so much for reading this fic, to the people who've read it here and on AO3! Your support mean the world to me!

#ikea writes 💚#home cbf!simon fic #cod fanfic #tw child death #tw death #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #childhood best friends to lovers #cbf #cbf!simon #teenage love #masterlist #angst #heartbreak #time skip #graveyard

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teyamsgrl · 11 months

Note

Hello, darling. To the female human reader, she is Jake's girlfriend. She realizes that jake is moving away from her, he behaves colder, he avoids her and when they sleep together he doesn't even hug her and when she tries to hug him he pushes her away. One day she confronts him and Jake tells her that he is in love with Neytiri or something. I hope you understand, english is not my first language. Thank you.

ANONNNNN i asked for angst and you gave it your all omg 😭 thank you for the request bby! i'm not entirely happy with how i wrote this but hopefully that's just me being in my own head 🫠

also why is sam worthington so FINE like wow the brain rot is real

all good things come to an end ✧ jake sully

°˖➴ warnings: fem human reader, scientist!reader, young!jake, human!jake, break up, just angsty tbh

you had first met jake years ago through his brother; you and tommy were both scientists and prepared to head to pandora soon to evolve your studies with dr. augustine. upon meeting jake you instantly fell in love, he was so humorous yet also a kind soul, something that you had craved your whole life. it wasn't long before you two became an item, spending every moment together. when tommy died you were both devastated in several ways, and you had wondered what would happen with tommy's avatar and the status of your anticipated trip to pandora. luckily, jake was easily convinced into taking over tommy's spot to fulfill the study. which brings you to today, 2154, in pandora. it was amazing to reunite with jake after cryo, and you were excited that he could now be apart of this with you.

it was another day and jake had just come back from his day in his avatar body, he seemed to have been spending more and more time in his avatar and out in the village. it didn't bother you, you figured he was just becoming fascinated and was pleased to have working legs again after such a long time. you smiled at him as he moved in your direction in his wheelchair, "hey, honey" you leaned down to kiss him and he turned his head, resulting in the kiss landing on his cheek. your smile faltered slightly, but nonetheless you shook it off to continue talking with him. "day good? see anything interesting out there?" you run your fingers through his hair as you await an answer, "yeah, good, was fun" he says before wheeling away to talk with norm. your heart felt as though it was being ripped apart slowly, slightly unsure of what jake's attitude was all about. you've seen his bad days, many of them, but he never denied your touch nor spoke to you so indifferently. this wasn't the first time he has done this since you've been in pandora, but you thought he was just adjusting, maybe feeling frustrated? you honestly felt like you were just making shit up to excuse how he was acting and make yourself feel better.

once you got into bed waiting for jake, your heart raced as you wondered if he would still be acting the same. your head was hurting as you pondered all the possible scenarios, and you just couldn't put a finger on what might be wrong. you watched as jake rolled into the room, shutting the door behind him and pulling up beside the bed. you heard him sigh before lifting himself into bed and slipping in the free space beside you. he simply pulled the blanket up over himself, not turning towards you or touching you or even uttering a short 'goodnight'. you hesitantly decided to wrap your arm around him from behind, hoping he would accept the touch. you suddenly felt as though you were walking on eggshells, wary of what might happen next. your arm snakes around him, and within seconds jake is nudging it away. you couldn't stop the tears that rolled down your cheeks, feeling utterly rejected by the man you loved most. what did you do wrong? did you say something to upset him? did he find someone else?

your eyes fluttered open to jake causing a bit of a ruckus in your room, changing his shirt hurriedly. he notices that your eyes are open and decides to speak to you for the first time in 10-12 hours, "hurry, i wanna get in early today". you audibly sigh and sit up, headache already present from the crying you did in the night and lack of sleep. "jake.." you whisper, dying to know what's been going on. "what's going on with you? you barely speak to me anymore and you don't even let me touch you. you are my boyfriend, you're supposed to be loving me and telling me if i've done something wrong. what is it? just tell me so i can get some fucking sleep at night..." you trail off and sniffle, throwing the blankets off of you and scooching to the edge of the bed to face him in his wheelchair. you scan his face as he doesn't say a word though he looks distraught. "tell me, please-" "i found someone else... i- i'm in love with neytiri, eytukan's daughter".

there it was. it stung. it stung so bad. you nod and look down to your lap, seeing the tears darken your light blue pyjama pants. "i didn't know how to tell you, and it just... happened. i never expected it to happen, but it did... i'm so sorry" he observes you with your head down, feeling horrible yet also feeling as though a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. "you have been nothing but amazing to me; patient and loving and genuine, but my heart has chose someone else", you let out a quiet sob as you listen to his words, finally understanding. you start to remember how desperate he was to learn na'vi, how he started to hum a certain song chord you had never heard before, how he spoke about neytiri with such grace; it made sense. "i get it, jake. please just- please go.." you whimper, lazily gesturing your hand to the door. "i'm sorry..." he whispers before wheeling towards the door and exiting, leaving you on your own. your sobs become louder the second the door latches, head pounding. you had no idea what to do next, how could you work with jake around? with jake around talking about his new love, the one he chose over you. maybe all good things do come to an end, and maybe you'd just have to live with that fact.

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wyn-n-tonic · 1 year

Text

That's a Real Fucking Legacy: I Chose You

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/former Tommy Miller x f!reader Word Count: 2.6k+ Warnings: Unprotected PiV. Soft Joel. Talk of death. The gif is JUST a gif, there are NO descriptions of reader, it's just a visual reference of movement. Author's Note: Thanks for all the patience with this installment. I have been working very hard on DoYaM and fit in bits and bobs of other things where I can. Cannot fully convey how grateful I am for all the kind words, I really hope you like this, too.

Please follow @wyn-writing and turn on updates for notifications. You can sign up for my taglist HERE.

That's A Real Fucking Legacy Masterlist

Everybody said it was an accident, that it could’ve happened to anybody.

But it didn’t happen to anybody, it happened to him.

Stopped for a pick up at a site out in Colorado, Joel left you and the baby to finally contribute and pull his weight—to feel useful. He’s been itching for it this whole time, getting out there and working off the energy that’s penning up inside his chest. He said he wanted to partake in something other than just keeping your daughter at peace.

You didn’t tell him he’d be taking yours away, too.

They were ambushed by another group, a bunch of men looking for food to take back to their women and children apparently. It was a fucking gun fight and if the blood on his shirt was just from a bullet, maybe this wouldn’t feel like having all the air sucked from your lungs.

Baby could sense it, too, the fear and devastation seeping through your body as they brought him back with another goddamn hole in his body.

He’s got plenty at this point, angry red and deathly white scars pockmarking his body like some kind of topographical map.

That’s all it is, just another scar to add to his collection and reminisce about as you trace it in the darkness of whatever shared space you end up in.

Except, they’re saying this one might not scar.

It might not even heal.

All the things he’s done throughout these years, all the things he done to protect you—to provide for you.

That’s all he was doing this time, too, and it breaks you down all over again as you pull Baby closer to your aching, carved out chest.

Everybody you have ever loved has either left or been taken away.

Tommy’s hand lands gently on your shoulder but it might as well have been a goddamn hit with the way you pull away from him.

“What do you want?”

“I brought some food,” he whispers, setting down a small plate between where you’re sitting and where Joel’s body is laying. “And I came to check on you, see if there’s anything I could do for you.”

He pulls away when you look up at him, hands falling to his side like he’s been fucking burned. You know what you must look like—bloodshot eyes and hollow cheeks.

“Yeah, Tommy, you can fucking fix this.”

You watch as he swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his eyes flicker from yours to his brother’s body and back. Not a day has gone by since he was brought back that you’ve left his side, doing your best to keep it together through every aching mile along the way to Jackson.

They look for medicine at every stop you make, coming up empty handed time and time again. If we don’t get to Jackson soon—to the doctor they have there—then he will die.

“I'm doing the best I can, sweetheart.”

“Don't you fucking dare call me that,” you tell him. Baby fusses in your arms like she can feel the hurt that’s heavy in your voice. “You were supposed to protect him, Tommy, you were supposed to bring him back to me alive.”

“He is alive,” he says, nostrils flaring as he points down at his brother. “He's right there, he’s breathing, and we are all doing the best that we can.”

Baby looks up at you, stung by the subtle anger that Tommy’s words hold. Her father may be trying to make nice with him, but you fucking won’t—you can’t. Not so long as he lays half clung to life next to you.

More words come at you—assurances and platitudes.

We’ll be in Jackson in two days.

They’re still looking.

He’s a stubborn piece of shit, he’ll make it through.

This is everything that he’s been afraid of this whole goddamn time. This is that fear come true that he’ll leave you or you’ll leave him or your daughter will leave you both and neither of you would survive that.

“Tommy,” you call his attention back on you as he turns. “I grieved for you,” you say. “God, I mourned and I wailed and I wept for days if not weeks or more.”

It’s like he’s understanding for the first time, truthfully understanding, as he stares down at your worn down body speaking all these fragile and broken words. Realization of just how much you hurt for him is dawning on him and he’s trying to give you more comfort, more words to say everybody will be okay.

But it won’t be true so long as your daughter is looking up at you with eyes that ask why your heart has stopped beating.

“I don't think you have heard me at any point that I have explained just what I feel for my family, Tommy,” you say. “I told you that I would’ve bled for you but that I would die for him so I really need for you to listen to me right now—if he goes, part of me will go with him.”

Jackson is like life before it stopped.

There is power here and children laughing.

There are babies and clothes and running water.

There are houses and furniture and trinkets and shops.

You haven’t been able to take any of this in, not really. Not when you’re walking around the halls of Tommy’s home like a ghost.

Tommy found penicillin after that night, came hauling ass into the room and injected his brother before you were even fully awake and registering what he was doing. Because, for a moment, you thought you were under attack. You though a runner had burst in and you couldn’t find the gun and this was the death you had feared beyond the walls—first Joel and then Thomi and then you. The last of those you love taken from you in the last moments that would make you welcome being ripped apart with open arms.

When you realized it was just Tommy, your heart half settled down and then you feared that maybe Joel had stopped breathing next to you. But that couldn’t have been the case because it was the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he fought against infection and the increasing cold that gave you any sort of hope or peace at all.

Joel woke up just as you made it through the gates of Jackson, one eye half cracked and already crying the moment he saw you next to him. Instead of going to the doctor, the doctor came to him. Modern medicine isn’t so modern anymore though, not the way it was when it all fell down. The penicillin likely wasn’t as potent as it once was but the doctor said it would do the trick and that the right thing was done by keeping his wound as clean as possible and bandaged tight.

Tommy said it was all you and the doctor was offering you a job before he’d even learned your name. You’ll get to that eventually, you told him so. Begged him to let you settle in and find a home, find a way to feel okay in this new space where you’re told fear doesn’t have to be your primary emotion any longer.

Now, though, Joel barely wants to sleep. He’s antsy, fidgeting and restless and begging to get out of bed and walk around.

He’s even bouncing Baby and talking with his brother on what jobs he can pull around town to earn his keep.

Fucking jobs.

You almost lost him to him pulling his own weight and he’s asking about fucking jobs with a half healed hole still gaping in his abdomen.

Thomi’s been down for about an hour, she was your excuse away from the bathroom. With Joel up and about, the survival mode has turned off in your brain and now you want to crumble every time you look at the knotted over flesh.

But there’s only so much pacing that you can do until you’re sitting back in the room and staring down at Thomi with tears in your eyes. She came so close to being just another orphan in this fucked up world because you weren’t joking with Tommy when you said what you said. Part of you will go when Joel does, you will not be the same and you’ve prepared for it, you just hope she’s old enough to understand when that time comes.

There’s also the hope that everybody understands that it’s Joel who has to go first. Between you and him, he has to go first because he cannot watch another person he loves die; he cannot add another name to another gravestone in the cemetery of his heart.

That’s where he finds you, saying something about how he can’t believe there’s an actual crib that she actually gets to sleep in.

That fact and the exhaustion of his voice hits you, drags the tears out of you finally after all these days of having to be strong. She has a crib and she’s sleeping peacefully inside of it with a soft toy somebody in town sent over. Joel has a voice and he’s using it as if just a week ago you hadn’t convinced yourself that you’d never hear it again.

“How can I fix this?” He asks, gentle hand resting on your shoulder. “What can I do for you?”

“You're breathing,” you say, pushing the tears from your face. “That's enough, it’s all I’ve been hoping for.” Because while you want him to be the first to go, you can’t lose him yet. Not yet.

He smells good. Like himself but different, the sweet scent of the mint soap Tommy gave you mixing in with the natural musk and heat of him. You don’t even realize you’re crawling into his lap until you are.

Tears fall down on his face as your fingers thread through the slicked back hair until you’re cradling his head in your hand; holding him to you with open mouths breathing heavily into one another.

He’s hard already and laying back with ease, thick hands gripping into the meat of your hips. It’s fucking embarrassing how close you are already but there was no privacy for sneaky touches on the journey here.

“Off,” he commands, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

Trailing his hand along the skin exposed as you comply easily to his demand, he fights against the pain you know he feels to pull himself forward enough to reach you and pull you back down.

Days asleep fighting, literally, for his life and, yet, he’s still got all this strength radiating out of his body. You know that’s why he was able to hold on for so long but it doesn't mean it doesn’t wow you and bring another wave of sadness all at the same time.

Because if such a strong man can fall so easily, what’s stopping this world from taking you, too?

Like he can read your mind, his hands settle on your hips and he pulls back just enough to look up at you with the same big brown eyes your daughter shares. “Are you gonna get off of me if I tell you this moment was the focal point of all my fever dreams?”

Head cradled in both of your hands, you take his lips again. “I might never get off of you again, Joel Miller.”

Fighting against the pain he feels, he pushes his hips against your core as he pulls you down against him, whispered words of gratitude and love falling pushed right into your mouth from his.

“I heard every word you said,” he breathes out. “The entire time you were by my side, sweetheart, I heard it all.”

Tongues flattened against each other, you reach down and pull off the new underwear—another offering in a gift basket to welcome your family to the town. You never thought you’d see these kinds of things again.

Clothes in good condition; sturdy houses; friendly people; fresh vegetables.

It’s something else that drips tears from your eyes and down his cheeks.

As if he knows how overwhelmed you are by all the newness going on all around you, he takes charge to push up against your lips harder and with more hunger.

Joel’s goal in every moment between your bodies is to be the only overwhelming force you feel and he does just that with the gentle push of his solid length through your soaked channel.

He takes the gasp you feed him, pulling back with a smile to trail the tip of his nose down the length of yours and studies you as he waits for your fully seated comfort to kick in.

“Mmm,” his head falls back and he relaxes down into the soft blankets. “I’m sorry if I bust too quick,” he breathes out. “It’s been a while and I missed you.”

Laughter. Because that’s a feeling coiling deeper in the pit of your being than he’s pushing into and he catches your moan as brings the long awaited friction you’ve ached for.

“I think I’m right there with you,” you whisper against him. This shared laughter and the feeling of his chapped lips on yours are the unburdening you’ve needed for so long. Even in the so called safety of the QZ, your shoulders were heavy with the weight of grief and fear both for those that were and those that will be taken away.

This is light and restful and full of peace and happiness because he turned it all around—he came back.

He heard every word you said at his side.

“None of these,” he says against your lips, swiping at the heavy salt water tears that streak down your cheeks. “Not anymore, sweetheart, not right now. You don’t need them right now.”

Your bodies are already tightening up against each other; working in time with each other all slow and steady movements made with intention and pulling back when necessary.

Because the intention isn’t to get off, it’s to be together and share this peace and relief together.

“I love you,” falls from his lips like a prayer, something sacred and quiet that he keeps close to his chest.

Even still, he may have said no more tears but they rush from you in body racking sobs. Because you know, of course you know, but he’s never said it. Not out loud, not like this. This isn't just a mere glimpse of a long gone, past life Joel Miller and who he used to be. This is him. That sweet and romantic boy he’s only told you about in the cover of night.

He doesn’t ask if he’s hurt you, he knows that he hasn’t. All he can do is cage you in closer; kiss you harder; hold you tighter until the broken sobs are turning back into shared moans as your involuntary movements of sadness and happiness combine to push you both over that edge.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he exhales. “My strong, beautiful woman.” Those rough hands frame your face, thumbs swiping over the swell of your cheeks in mirrored movements. “You can relax now, baby, I’m right here.”

Every press of his lips against your face is so soft and full of everything else he’s struggling to say.

That you’re safe.

That you’re healthy.

That your daughter is both and can sleep peacefully not yet knowing what nightmares truly are.

He heard every word you said at his side and these are his answers—his reassurances. He’s here, he’s right here and he’ll fight like hell even against himself to make sure he’ll continue to be.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller #tommy miller #tommy miller fanfiction #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #o writes

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pacifymebby · 7 months

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I cry when people yell at me(parent issues™️) and I was wondering how the peakys would react to that, like I can handle most things but yelling is like a big nono for me, would they be concerned or tease me for that, I don't think they will but I'm interested on how they'll react to it for the first time it happens, or if I yell back for the first time? You just do a great job at writing these characters💛

( im sorry if this is too personal or whatever)

AN: not too personal my lovely dw, here at Pacifymebby dot Tumblr dot com we (me) totally specialise in ✨ fanfiction as therapy ✨ haha. Sorry these have taken me ages to do. I'm also a crier when men shout at me so I hope I've written this how you wanted!!!!

Tommy

🌿 Is genuinely very shocked when, mid argument, you start crying. You've seen so much worse than this, you've witnessed some terrible things because of him and his brothers, the fights they get into every week. Only last week you'd watched with as calm a demeanour as one could manage, whilst Arthur had a violent breakdown and smashed a chair up at the dinner table. You'd not shown a shred of fear. But now, here you are, silent, heartbreaking tears streaming down your face and why?

🌿 because Tommy raised his voice at you.

🌿 you couldn't even remember what you'd been arguing about now. You'd seen red and blue fear in your mind the second he'd raised his voice. You'd watched him lose his temper with you, his jaw tense, his face going red as he yelled at you, his expression so angry, so cold and unforgiving. And it had shocked you. Tommy had never raised his voice at you before. You'd seen him shout at his brothers but he'd never shouted at you.

🌿 and the sight of you suddenly drained of colour, your skin taking on that strange bloodless translucency as you starred back at him wide eyed and fearful... it shocks him. You're looking at him like you don't recognise him and suddenly there's a lump in his throat.

🌿 He reaches out for you but you flinch away from him, backing away slowly and then suddenly fleeing, running away, vision blurred by your tears. You don't really know where to go and you can here him calling after you, but his voice raised shouting down the hallway for you only makes it worse. Only adds to your fear.

🌿 you're certain that you're in trouble so you don't stop even when he calls after you. Thing is he hasn't even said he's sorry. Hasn't realised why you're running from him.

🌿 "Y/N love for fuck sake what're you doin... we need to talk about this... Y/n stop!"

🌿 He's chased you out to the gardens, still shouting, still not getting the hint... it's only when he shouts again, louder this time, screaming your name across the lawn that you freeze. His voice seems to shake the whole world and it strikes the fear of god into you. So you stop. And he thinks thats the problem solved, that you've stopped running away from him now so he can return to you and you can talk like grownups.

🌿 but when he gets closer to you you back away some more, and even when he warns you to wait for him you edge away. Every step he takes you take one back until you find yourself backed up against a tree, looking at him with all this fear in your eyes.

🌿 He's careful as he approaches, one arm out to you, trying to coax you back to him... he can see that something has absolutely terrified you but it's only when he gets close enough to touch you, only when he brings his hand up to fix your hair that he realises what you're scared of.

🌿 "Don't hurt me!" You gasp, eyes squeezed shut, your body rigid with fear as you bring your hands up to protect your face. And it's that which makes him realise. That movement, that fragile tremble in your voice as you beg him not to harm you that breaks his heart.

🌿 and the realisation hits him like a freight train, chokes him. He can't believe you're frightened of him. He can't believe it's him who has caused you all this terror. You're trembling, your hands shaking the way a rabbit shakes when it knows it's being hunted.

🌿 He let's out a sigh, closes his eyes and tried to steady his own shaken nerves. He doesn't want to scare you anymore.

🌿 "Y/n, angel listen to me girl, I'm not going to hurt you..." he says, his voice a gentle caress as he takes your trembling hands in his, draws them away from your face and places them on his chest. He holds then both to his heart underneath his hand and with the other he cups your cheek. Makes you look up at him, catches your tears with his thumb and brushes them away.

🌿 "I scared you," he says looking at you ever so mournfully, he feels so guilty and you can see the hurt in his eyes. It just makes you feel worse and you shake your head trying to apologise. You can feel his heart beating beneath your hands, it's racing, his adrenaline too high and you feel guilty yourself because you made him angry.

🌿 "I'm.. I'm so sorry Tommy I made you angry I shouldn't have pissed you off its not..." but he cuts you off, finger pressed to your lips to hush you as he steps closer to you, his body so close to yours that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His head is bowed to look down at you.

🌿 "Shh now angel I'm talkin yeah, my turn to talk now eh so listen to me..." he's being ever so gentle, his hand holding your hip, the other tucking your hair behind your ear and stroking your cheek. He doesn't look harsh or sharp anymore, instead of anger his eyes are full of love. "Don't you apologise to me sweetheart, please don't do that... I'm sorry I shouted at you angel, shouldn't have done that but listen to me now eh cause this is important..."

🌿 You can't take your eyes off him, you're still shaking, still crying, your hearts still racing, but you're not frightened anymore. He's looking down at you with such an intense honesty, you can see the remorse in his eyes when he talks to you in that sweet gentle voice.

🌿 "I will never hurt you alright, I promise... even if I'm angry yeah, even if we're havin a blazing bloody row, I won't ever lay a finger on you like that sweetheart, I won't ever hurt you.."

🌿 You'd probably start crying all over again, burying your face in his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you and hold you tight. His hand stroking your back as he bows his head to place a kiss on yours. He'd cradle your head against his body and rest his chin in your hair. Close his eyes, hold onto you tight and treasure the feeling of you in his arms.

🌿 "You really fuckin scared me Tommy..." you'd sniffle struggling to calm yourself down.

🌿 "I know angel, I know and I'm really fuckin sorry alright..."

Alfie

🐻 He didn't mean to shout, Alfie's never raised his voice at you before because he doesn't believe in shouting at women and girls. He has a very firm, traditional view on that and he's stubborn about it too. No swearing, shouting and hitting women and girls.

🐻 The only reason he shouted is because he panicked, you were wandering around in a daydream so you hadn't noticed the tension in the bakery when you'd entered through the back door on your way to see your beloved. Tommy Shelby had just left, informing Alfie that he'd set up a trip wire to ensure his safety, that if he tugged on the string in his hand he would pull the pin from a grenade which would blow up half the bakery, starting a monstrous fire which would probably kill all inside. All those barrels of rum would go up in flames.

🐻 And you were one step from tripping that string which Tommy had tied to the leg of Alfies desk all, "I'll let you deal with this, have a think about what I've said whilst you work eh, careful though, its a delicate procedure..."

🐻 So when he'd seen you Alfie hadn't thought twice, shouting "Y/N stop! Stay there, fuckin don't move!" and luckily you'd frozen. Your body going rigid as the fear struck you like lightning.

🐻 He'd startled you for sure but more than that the sound of his voice ricochetting around the room, the voice of a man who was usually so tender and gentle with you, always so protective of you.. He'd never spoken to you like that and hearing it now struck ice cold fear into the very bones of you.

🐻 Alfie doesn't even notice at first, doesn't notice how you've gone white as a sheet, can't even move, he's too worried about that wire, too busy trying to work out what to do. Hoping there's a chance Tommy was bullshitting him. Hoping that actually there's nothing to fear.

🐻 And poor you, you're just stood there, hand clutched over your mouth starring at your love in shock. You don't know what to do because you don't want to embarrass yourself by bursting into tears over a little shouting, but you already know it's too late. Alfie really scared you, and he's never scared you before.

🐻 So you can't hold it back, you're trembling all over with the effort of fighting your tears, some have already escaped, you've swallowed down a sob already but it's the fact that Alfie's not even looking at you. The way he shouted at you so sharply, so harshly, and he isn't even looking at you now. You're struggling to reason with your own anxiety, convinced that you've done something wrong, that he hates you...

🐻 but then he hears it. The sound of your choked sob, one you'd tried and failed to hold back. And once the first escapes the damn breaks and you're in floods of tears. You don't move, frozen to the spot but your hands are over your face and your crying so mournfully that the sound sends an icy shard through Alfie's heart. Suddenly the hidden explosive is the least of his worries.

🐻 "Fuck," he grumbles to himself, telling himself off for snapping at you, "gentle Alfie what have I fuckin told you man, sometimes yeah you have to be fuckin gentle..." he's grumbling to himself as he reassesses his predicament. He knows he needs to get to you and get you to safety but he knows he can't get to you without risking your safety.

🐻 So he sighs. "Ziskeit, my dear, y/n poppet I'm sorry yeah, didn't mean to shout at you ziskeit, didn't mean to shout.. that was just me you know... panickin right, but I shouldn't have shouted at you yeah lovely girl I'm sorry..." he's making his way towards you very slowly and very carefully, talking soft and gentle, hands out because he doesn't want to startle you. His eyes flickering with concern between you and the wire you almost tripped.

🐻 "See my ziskeit, down there right by your feet yeah, there's a wire right and I need you to be very careful cause it's very dangerous yeah..." he doesn't want to scare you more than he already has but he also doesn't want you to move and accidentally set it off.

🐻 When he finally gets to you he doesn't hesitate to wrap his big arms around you and give you the warmest, tightest bear hug. He holds you firm against his chest, strokes your hair and cradles your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His beards tickley on your cheek and you're all wrapped up in the comfort of his musky scent.

🐻 "There, there my little ziskeit, s'alright now yeah, your Alfie's got you my darlin an he ain't lettin you go.."

🐻 He takes your hands from your face, won't let you hide and then he wipes your tears away with his thumbs. You can't just turn the waterworks off though and the tears keep coming.

🐻 Alfie feels so guilty.

🐻 But he'd hold your face in his hands and put his forehead against yours, looking down into your watery wounded eyes with such an intense devotion.

🐻 "Didn't mean to scare you poppet, please don't be scared now yeah, I'm here, I love you... I didn't mean to shout."

🐻 He'd probably call Ollie or one of his trusted men for help, he'd be instructing them on how to undo and disarm Tommy's trap, all the while still holding you and hushing you. The contrast between the way he barks orders at his men and then turns to you with the most tender, soft voice, shushing you and stroking your hair.

🐻 Promises he'll never shout at you again, but also, because he knows what he's like he also promises that if he does raise his voice at you, it won't be because he's angry and it won't be because he hates you. It'll be because he'd a stupid old man who forgets himself sometimes.

🐻 You'd sniffle, this shy smile on your lips as you tell him "you're not a stupid old man..." and he'd just chuckle, kiss your nose and brush your hair away from your tear stained cheeks, probably catching another tear on his thumb. "I am for making my ziskeit cry, but, you have my word now don't you girl, ain't ever gonna make you cry again..."

🐻 It's a big promise but Alfie is truly devoted to you and so protective of you that he really does hold it against himself forever. He's always viewed himself as your protector so the idea that you were scared of him is horrifying to him. He really does intend to keep his promise.

🐻 Will set a rule in the bakery and the warehouses that if you're around nobody is to raise their voice for any reason. He'll spin some bullshit about how it's very fucking rude and inconsiderate to shout when there are women and children present. If anyone breaks that rule Alfie will not hesitate to silence them in his own special way.

Arthur

🍂 It's probably not the first time this has happened let's be real here, this is probable not even the first time this has happend this week...

🍂 Arthur's emotions aren't exactly the easiest thing to endure... for either of you. He has a quick temper and he doesn't know how to express himself. If he's scared he turns to violence, if he's upset, he turns to violence, if he's angry, violence... even when he's happy or excited something usually gets broken, he usually forgets himself, talks too loudly... shouts...

🍂 And even though you're used to Arthur and his loud, uncontrollable and often unpredictable ways, you've never been able to get used to his yelling. You've always been easily startled and people yelling, raised voices has always set you on edge. And when someone shouts at you well, you always cry. You can't help yourself and you feel so stupid for it sometimes too... especially when it's Arthur who has made you cry because you know you should be used to it by now. You know what he's like... when he shouts and you start crying you always feel like a stupid child who can't control her own emotions.

🍂 But Arthur understands how that feels. It's not like he can control his either...

🍂 So of all the Blinders Arthur is the most sympathetic. It's not just that he feels terribly guilty for making you cry, it's that he hates how bad about yourself it makes you feel too and he wants you to learn not to be so hard on yourself.

🍂 So, he's always trying his best not to shout, for whatever reason... sometimes he comes home ecstatic about something that happened at the Garrison, he's half way through shouting through the house for you when he cuts himself off.

🍂 "Nah what have I fuckin told you Arthur Shelby, indoor voice for y/n, nice, gentle indoor voice..."

🍂 But of course this is Arthur and no matter how hard he tries he forgets himself and loses control on the regular. And when he does you also lose control... Arthur is an intimidating man at the best of times and when he shouts he is so fucking scary... especially when he's shouting because he's angry, and especially if he's shouting because he's arguing with you...

🍂 When that happens you probably don't just cry, you burst into tears, really dramatically... you'd shrink away from him, curl up on the floor crying your heart out, shaking, sobbing into your skirts and then when he realises what he's done it hits him in the gut and he does cold, panicks. He feels so guilty for scaring you again and rushes to try and hug.

🍂 Gets down there on the floor with you and bundles you up in his arms. His whole demeanor changes in an instant, all the fight knocked out of him in seconds as he rushed to comfort you.

🍂 Cradles you to his chest, rocking you to sooth you as he apologises over and over again. "For fuck sake darlin come here, fuckin 'ell I'm such a bloody idiot, I'm sorry my darlin I'm fuckin so sorry alright... didnt mean to scare you girl, y'know I love you don't I, ain't gonna hurt you, didn't mean to scare you just forgot meself that's all, you're alright my girl, I've got you eh, your Arthur loves you very much an he's very fuckin sorry for being such a fuckin dinlow eh..."

🍂 You'd be clutching at his shirt, sobbing into his chest, doing your best to calm yourself down, mentally chastising yourself for being so stupid because you know he didn't mean it, you know it was an accident, that you're safe with Arthur, that he won't ever hurt you... but even so, he scared you so much...

🍂 you'd push yourself up in his lap and try to wipe your tears away, probably trying to pull away from him and act as though everything was fine even though all you want to do is nestle deeper into his embrace and hold onto him until your heart stops racing.

🍂 And Arthur knows you well enough to recognise what you're doing so he isn't going to just let you go and pretend you're fine.

🍂 "Right now where dya think you're goin darlin..." he'd start, catching your hand and tugging you back into his lap, his arm locking around your waist, the other hand using his sleeve to dry your eyes. "Look at me yeah, got all the time in the world eh so I don't know what you're rushin off for darlin..."

🍂 "S'alright I'm alright now Arth was just being stupid wasn't I, you didn't scare me it's fine just bein..." but he'd cut you off shaking his head, giving you that frown which means 'dont give me all that rot y/n, I know you.'

🍂 "Nah," he'd say, "now don't start with all that shit now darlin, not wi me eh, I did scare you and you ain't stupid for bein scared neither... you ain't stupid at all..." "but..." when you try to argue he holds your face in both hands, your nose pressed up against his, his scruffy hair tickling your cheek as he gets right up close to you. His eyes are so intense when they lock with yours. "No buts now sweetheart, I fuckin scared you, I know I did and I'm fuckin sorry for it too... I'm the one who lost control so I'm the one who has to apologise right love, so I'm fuckin sorry yeah sweetheart, I hate scaring you an I never wanna do it again yeah... need to start using me fuckin brain eh love..."

🍂 But you hate seeing him put himself down so you're there holding his face in your hands too, looking up at him with such intensity, such stubbornness, it would be infuriating for him if he didn't currently feel so guilty. "You're not a fuckin idiot Arthur... don't call yourself stupid alright..."

🍂 For you and Arthur these scenes always end in the most loving of embraces, him holding you tight against him, you sitting in his lap on the floor, the two of you holding onto one another so carefully, so lovingly, your eyes locking as you tell eachother again how much you love one another. Your lips meeting in a desperate adoring kiss. One neither of you want to pull away from.

🍂 "Fuckin love you my darlin, don't even mean to upset you eh, I'll try harder yeah, Indoor voice from now I promise..." he says in as close to a whisper as Arthur Shelby can manage, kissing your face all over. Kissing away the last of your tears.

🍂 He always promises he won't shout at you again, you always promise you'll stop crying when he does. Both of you know that in a couple days time you'll be going over the whole routine again.

John

🌼 For all that John is a very laidback man, he has a temper on him and he has a very strict sense of morals, right and wrong (despite all of his moral activities) and when he feels strongly about something he will argue about it... and he has a temper on him.

🌼 When he loses his temper things can get messy, too emotional... He doesn't usually lose him temper with you though and so when he does it comes as even more of a shock.

🌼 He doesn't mean to start shouting at you, he already knows you don't deal well with it... Your voices have both been raising slowly as the arguments been escalating and when he finally starts really shouting you shout right back...

🌼 He didn't even realise he'd shouted until he heard your voice shouting back... suddenly cracking because you're trembling, because you've been fighting back your tears and they've just escaped.

🌼 He sees the tears streaming down your face and realises that you aren't even shouting because you're angry, your shout was one of fear. A "Stop it! Stop fucking shouting at me John fucking stop it!" Your hands over your ears as you shout at him from across the kitchen table, your eyes desperate with heartache and fear.

🌼 For a second you're looking at him with real upset and shock, like you don't recognise him at all, like he isn't your John anymore...

🌼 He feels terrible. He's gripped with guilt, a pain in his throat squeezing and aching, he's choked up by tears in his own eyes. Sometimes feelings are too big and John can't handle them.

🌼 Views himself as being the good family man, a loving, caring husband, a protective father, the man who looks after everyone, provides for them, so the idea that he could have done to his wife the one things she really can't handle, disgusts him. He's really disappointed in himself and he's determined to make it up to you.

🌼 He'd raise his hands up in surrender, his eyes full of guilt, his cheeks a little flushed as a tear escapes his eye, he's stepping away from the table, approaching you cautiously.

🌼 "Am sorry flower, I'm sorry..." his voice is wobbling but he's talking quietly now, as if lowering his voice like this is going to make up for the violence of his shouting at you moments before... and it does a little, or at least, his sudden effort to be gentle and careful calms you, lets you know you're not in danger.

🌼 He'll wrap his arms around you carefully, waiting for you to come to him, waiting for you to let him hold you. But when you feel the outline of his embrace you crumble, throwing your arms around him, sobbing into his neck as he closes his hold around you a little tighter, keeping you secure.

🌼 He'll hush you and rock you, doing his best to calm you down, all the while apologising for losing his temper.

🌼 "I'm so sorry little flower, I shouldn't have shouted at you, shouldn't have lost me temper that was fuckin stupid of me wasn't it..."

🌼 Lots of kissing your hair and your forehead. Will hold you as long as you need to calm down.

🌼 Will wipe your tears and tap your nose. Will hold your face in both his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks, forehead to forehead promising you very passionately that he'll never shout at you like that again. You can see it in his eyes how strongly he feels, he's got tears in his eyes and he's perhaps crying a little too. He's talking but his jaw is clenched and the words are forced through his teeth so they come out really shaky but certain.

🌼 You catching his tears on your thumbs and brushing them away. The two of you eventually smiling at that, making a little joke about how over emotional you both are.

🌼 If you try to apologise for having cried, or if you try to joke about your tears, how silly it was of you to cry just because he shouted at you he will shake his head, cut you off all "no, no... no way flower, you ain't silly for cryin, you ain't supposed to like bein shouted at and your husband definitely ain't supposed to be shoutin at you like that neither..."

🌼 He'll be extra sweet to you for many days to come, bringing you flowers, talking particularly gently to you too. Lots of affection, hugs, kisses, holding your hand whenever he can, layering it on thick so that you know he still loves you... he knows how sensitive you are and knows that you'll still be worrying about the argument days later, so he'll do as much as he can to show you he loves you.

🌼 Once during a particularly heated family meeting Tommy shouted down the table at you for something you said, John was livid, white as a sheet with rage as he put his arms around you and stood protectively behind you. He was glaring so sharply his stare could have sliced Tommy open. Later you heard them scrapping when everyone else had left.

Bonnie

🍀 Bonnie is such a calm lad, he never shouts even when he's threatening other people. He's not the kind of man who raises his voice unless he really has to, he's usually the quietly threatening, controlled anger, spitting his threats through gritted teeth, not yelling...

🍀 It would take one hell of an argument, you'd both be feeling fragile and desperate, both of you shaking with he strength of the heartache and distress you're feeling.

🍀 Whatever you're fighting about it's been brewing for awhile so you both have so many thoughts, so many troubled feelings you need to get off your chest...

🍀 And when he does shout its because he feels a sudden panic, has a sudden fear that he will never be able to explain himself, never be able to make you understand... it's a truly desperate shout, almost a plea... "Would you just listen to me for a second love I'm trying to..."

🍀But he doesn't even finish the sentence, the second he realises he's yelled at you he feels a wee bit sick, his hands shaking and suddenly he can't speak at all. He's watching you, you're frozen, starring back at him with these terrifyingly sad wide eyes...

🍀 he can see he's just broken your heart.

🍀 For a moment theres silence, you're just starring back at him in shock, he's watching you, scared to move or say another word because if he does he's worried something between you will break. That you're both hanging on by a thread.

🍀 And when the thread snaps and you come back to life, your hand rising to cover your mouth and catch your sob, your eyes closing as your whole body shivers with the effort of fighting back tears, Bonnie watches you with this hollow weight in his stomach, this cold lump of guilt.

🍀 Swallows a lump in his throat, his voice quiet and shaky when he speaks again.

🍀 "Fuck, fuck I'm so sorry dove... don't cry, don't cry dove I'm sorry," he's speaking softly, hesitant to try and hug you because he saw the fear in your eyes and he's not sure you want him to come any closer now. "Please forgive me y/n I'm sorry, can I..." he trails off reaching for your hand, tugging you gently into his arms.

🍀Whatever you were fighting about it simultaneously ceases to matter to him and also becomes completely unsolvable...he's scared youre never going to look at him the same way again. He's supposed to be your man, your protector, the one person you can always trust and now he's let you down, he's scared you... he really resents himself for that, can't forgive himself for scaring you.

🍀"I'm sorry little dove," he'd whisper, his voice soothing, his breath brushing your cheek as he promises he won't shout like that again, "s'okay sweetpea, s'alright..." but he doesn't feel like its alright.

🍀 He'll hold you as snug as he can, but carefully too, treating you extra delicately, he's really hesitant to hug you too tightly or kiss you in case you're scared of him now.

🍀 "Don't be scared of my dove, you're breakin me heart," he says it with a teasing little smile, trying to get a giggle from you or something but you can hear the heartbreak in his voice and you know he's really telling the truth.

🍀 When you settle down a little you nuzzle into him, "Sorry Bon..." you sniffle trying to dry your eyes, caught out and speechless when he catches your hands in his and, strokes his thumbs over your palms. "What you sayin sorry for eh sweetpea? Am the one whose sayin sorry now..." he chuckles, holding your palm up to his lips and kissing your hands.

🍀 Even if you feel better quickly, soothed by Bonnie's sweetness, he won't feel better about it. The guilt will stick with him for a long time, one of those memories that comes back in the middle of the night and makes him cringe.

🍀 He's extra soft with you for the rest of the day and the morning after too, treating you like he's scared you're going to break. He speaks quietly and gently and he'll treat you with such tenderness, holding you at every opportunity, holding your hand even if you're just sitting together. Any excuse to kiss you or tell you he loves you.

🍀 Because he knows how upset you get when someone yells at you, if anyone else ever makes you cry by raising their voice at you Bonnie's fierce protective side will snap and he will be raring to defend you. You have had to talk him down from fights because of this.

Isaiah

🐀 He'll be so shocked when you start crying... he's seen you witness so much "worse" than shouting before... so he really wasn't expecting you to burst into tears when a drunk man at the bar raised his voice at you. He turns with a frown, brows tugged in in confusion as he blinks at you struggling to process the sight of you with tears streaking your face. He honestly didn't think anything could phase you...

🐀 For a second he's stunned but he soon snaps into action... "For fuck sake man now look what you've done!" He groans turning to the man behind your tears, "gone and made me girl cry ain't you... now I have to hurt ya..." he says with a cruel grin, as if he hadn't been intending on hurting the stupid cunt who'd been eyeing his girl up with lecherous eyes all evening anyway. "Don't get me wrong like... I wanted to anyway yeah, you've just given me a good excuse..."

🐀 Once he's satisfied he's fucked the stupid bastard up enough, he turns his attention back to you. He's not expecting to see you still crying, in fact he'd kind of been hoping he'd just imagined it, been hoping he was just going crazy like Arthur... but he isn't, and you are still crying.

🐀 And Isaiah isn't good with crying girls, doesn't know what to do about all those tears, feels totally at a loss.. especially because he's never seen you cry before.

🐀 will try to joke about it, not teasing you harshly, just making a little joke about how 'easily' scared it turns out you are... "You had me fooled mousy..."

🐀 This earns him a pretty firm slap from Ado who's jaw has just hit the floor... "Fuck sake dinlow whatre you doing making it bloody worse!" She'd be all arms crossed and shaking her head, muttering about how men these days are all the fucking stupid same.

🐀 but her slaps gotten through to Isaiah at least who is looking at you now with a somewhat more awkward smile, but he takes your hand and offers you a hug. This is the most stunted a conversation with Isaiah could possibly be and you're beginning to feel a whole different kind of anxious.

🐀 "Right for fuck sake, I've had enough of this.." Ada cuts in, "you.. give your girlfriend a fuckin hug alright," she'd say pointing at Isaiah and then pointing at you, "and you.. god sake girl get yourself a better fuckin boyfriend eh?"

🐀 "Alright Ada piss off yeah I've got her, she's alright now ain't you mousy..." Isaiah would groan, he's embarrassed by Ada pointing out his flaws but hes showing it as frustration instead. He will take her advice onboard however, he isn't that stupid.

🐀 He'll put his arm around your shoulder and squeeze you into his side steering you outside for a cigarette and some cool night air. He knows you'll be embarrassed about crying so he wants to take you somewhere quiet.

🐀 "Sorry for laughing at you doll you just took me by surprise... ain't like you is it... crying..." he'll say gently, he's sharing a cigarette with you, taking a drag or two and then placing it between your lips carefully. This is something he only does when he's trying to make you feel extra close and cosy with him.

🐀 He's quite curious about it, wants to understand why you cried, wants to know what it is about raised voices that you just can't deal with. And this curiosity isn't so that he can mock you, it's so that he can help you. He never wants to see you cry like that again so he wants to help you get over your fear...

🐀 He will offer you lots of reassurance, "you know I'm always here for you love, won't ever let anyone hurt you yeah... so even if someone does shout at you you ain't got nothin to be scared of yeah?"

🐀 He'll remind you that now you're with the Peaky Blinders you're always going to have someone near by to protect you. That men like "that cunt inside" will think twice about raising their voice at you...

🐀 Will hold your hand for the rest of the night, giving it reassuring squeezes at seemingly random moments. His affections will be subtle but constant all night and he'll make sure you feel safe.

🐀 If ever he shouts when you're nearby he'll remember himself quickly, apologising to you as soon as he can, making sure you're alright. If other Peaky lads chastise him for this he'll sock them round the back of the head no hesitations.

🐀 He's too easy going and because he doesn't want to shout at you, he avoids arguments like the plague, he'd rather just let most things slide until an issue absolutely has to be addressed because he's worried that if he gets swept into a row with you he won't be able to stop himself from losing his temper. He isn't sure yet whether this tactic is going to serve him well.

Michael

☘️ Its a heated argument, one which really give meaning to the phrase "blazing row." You and Michael are both furious with one another over a disagreement which has been stewing and bubbling away for weeks. One about Tommy Shelby and the unreasonable pressure he puts on his younger cousin.

☘️ When the row started it was because you wanted Michael to stand up to his cousin, you'd tried to encourage him to put his foot down, to start saying no every now and then when Tommy's demands crossed boundaries, but Michael didn't want to. he said you didn't understand the family, that you were sticking your nose into something which doesn't concern you.

☘️ And because you care so much about Michael you can't let go, won't back down. And because he cares about you and doesn't want you winding up in trouble Michael refuses to back down too. And thats how you end up screaming at one another in the middle of breakfast one morning.

☘️ He's so angry he doesn't notice that you aren't just shouting to match his fierce temper. He doesn't notice that you're trembling all over, that your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are wide and white - more like a deer in the headlights than a dragon.

☘️ The argument would peak with you unleashing all your fear and hurt, all your desperation into one shattering scream, "Leave me alone Michael for fuck sake leave me alone!" you shout over your shoulder when you go running off into the garden and he follows. HE doesn't listen however and it takes you picking a rock up and throwing it in his direction for him to get the message and let you go.

☘️ You run away for the rest of the day, go disappearing down the lane storming into the park up the street, finding a bench or a tree to sit beneath, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing into your skirts.

☘️ Meanwhile at home Michael is pissed off, pacing, getting angry, damaging furniture as his temper gets the better of him. He's fuming, he can't get his head around why you ran away. Why you were so upset. . He thinks you behaved childishly and doesn't understand why you ran off like a little girl...

☘️ It takes you both a long time to calm down and when you do you really don't want to go back to the house, so you go to Polly's instead, you don't tell her about the row but you drink tea with her and wait for Michael to turn up. (Pol assures you he always comes to her when you've been fighting)

☘️ And when he does show up that evening he's been drinking whiskey and his mood is bitter and self pitying.

☘️ "Let me guess Michael my boy, you and y/n had a row... she got upset, she ran away, she..." "Came here," he smirks shaking his head with a small self deprecating smile, "hiya love..."

☘️ He won't apologise for shouting because you were shouting too, and because Michael never apologises for anything. But he will pour the two of you some tea and try to talk to you a little more softly than before.

☘️ "You worried me love, running away from me like that...gave me a scare..." "You were shouting at me," you shrug sullenly. He would be struggling not to let his temper flare again. "You were shouting at me too to be fair love... and anyway, you're not a little girl are you, you don't run away from someone just for shouting..."

☘️ You'd bristle, getting defensive, fresh tears glossing your eyes then, a painful lump in your throat when you realise he doesn't understand and maybe isn't going to.

☘️ "No," you say, voice catching in your throat, "but what kind of man likes screaming at his girl?" When you ask him that he won't be able to ignore the guilt he feels. He'll be struggling to swallow down the lump in his throat too and he'll reach for your hand across the table, brush his thumb over your knuckles as he looks you in the eyes, tries to find an unspoken equilibrium between the two of you. Something to two of you can hold onto despite your differences.

☘️ "Alright," he says finally, let's out a little sigh and squeezes your hand. "No more shouting eh how does that sound?"

☘️ When you nod your head, your smile forming slow but wide, he mirrors your warm expression and leans back in his chair, tugs your hand across the table so that you'll stand and come sit down in his lap.

☘️ "No more shouting it is then y/n," he says holding your waist in his hands, feeling closer to you at last, enjoying the comfort of your familiar shape beneath his hands. He'll point to his cheek then all, "come on love, give us a kiss eh? Forgive me?" and he'll wait until you do lean in to place a kiss on his cheek before he catches yours in his palm and steers your mouth towards his.

AN/ hope these were what you were hoping for lovely, I honestly am not sure I've done your request justice but I don't think I can write much more so sorry about that :/

Taglist:

@jomarch-wannabe @zablife @call-sign-shark @marwwfairy@toddlerbodybag@mollybegger-blog@inalovesrabbits-blog @elina-777@impossibleheartflower@liliac-dreamer@everysage@itsghostgirlyo

#tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #bonnie gold x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagines #isaiah jesus x reader #alfie solomons x reader

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corazondebeskar-reads · 3 months

Text

was it worth it?

jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 6 - "you lied to me" | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 619

summary: You confront Joel after learning the truth about what happened at the hospital.

warnings: angst, established relationship, heartbreak, betrayal, hurt no comfort

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Joel has the nerve to look sheepish when you storm into the house, door smacking against the drywall. You fumble when you try to grab for the edge of it, eventually grasping and slamming it closed.

“You lied to me,” you said, low and dangerous, heart thrumming with all you’ve been told. You clasp at your chest for a moment, sure that your hand will come back red.

You let the accusation hang, daring him to grab it and throw it aside.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. He knows he’s been flayed and left open to burn.

“I lied to everybody,” he says after minutes have crept by.

“You lied to me,” you snarl. The corner of your lip jerks, an involuntary sneer. You’d trained yourself to do it in the dingy mirror of your first Boston apartment, holding the other side down until you looked as nasty and tough as the rest of them.

It worked. It was just a twitch now, unstoppable, popping up when you needed it, whether or not you wanted it.

Oh, but you do right now. You want it. You want him to see the way you’re rethinking this whole fucking situation.

“I had to,” he says.

“Oh, fuck off. I trusted you.”

“I never asked ya to,” he snaps. There he goes. There’s the Joel you know and thought you loved.

The fight slips from your fists, unfurling and folding over your chest instead. “You’re right. You didn’t.”

He doesn’t stop you when you go upstairs, but oh, does he wish he had when you come back down a few minutes later. His brain almost doesn’t put it together; the sight of your backpack straps so incongruous with your life here in Jackson.

“What—” he starts, but you don’t let him finish.

“Don’t. I’ll come back by in a few days. And you can think about if it was fuckin’ worth it, Joel.”

“Worth it to save her life?”

“For fucks sake, Joel, I’m not mad you did it! Jesus, is that what you think of me?”

You had been trying to keep quiet before, but that’s dead and buried. He raises his voice to match.

“How the hell am I supposed to know what you’re thinkin’?”

“You’re supposed to talk to me, Joel! You’re supposed to tell me shit. You tell me when there’s chili at the hall, you tell me when Tommy has a stomachache, but you can’t fuckin’ tell me how close it came? Can’t tell me what you had to do to save that girl? To bring her home?”

It’s too late. He’s shut down; you can see it. “I ain’t sorry. About any of it,” he says, and it’s clear and crisp, but you feel like it filters in from across town, something too distant to be sure what you heard.

But you know.

“Figure out if it was worth it to lose both of us,” you snarl before you can stop. And it does exactly what you meant it to. It whips across his face like a snowball packed with ice.

His own sneer twitches to meet yours. You think you might burst if you stay there too long, held perfectly still between him and the door. Might spill more words you don’t want to watch him hear, might throw and shatter the vase on the foyer table, might break down into tears.

Part of you wants to break, to give in, to try to pull the confession from him and pray he didn’t mean it. That he wants you to trust him. That he is sorry.

But you leave, and when you hear the door slam after you’re down the road, you don’t turn back.

(p.s., this is a standalone but I did see this as joel & reader from "you know you never stood a chance" and did actually go back and write the rest of this, might fuck around and add it to the "lulu" deleted scene ok thx love u bye)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday6 #fic: joel drabble #fic: you know you never stood a chance

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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year

Text

Just A Second / Tommy Miller Imagine

Request: Just saw your post about Tommy requests!! Could you please please please write something with him and Joel doing some construction work for the reader and Tommy’s barely working for flirting with the reader instead? Thank you so much 💜

Awww please this is too sweet I love it!!

Also sorry I’ve included ma’am, if you’d like it to be g/n please let me know and I’ll change it/ post a separate one without it!

If you enjoy this one, please let me know as it really does help to keep me creating, and please send in your own ideas for the Last of Us!!

Warning: some language and sexual allusions!

(I do not own the Last of Us or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @acecroft.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Joel didn’t think his sighs could get any louder, but he was about to prove himself wrong.

From where he’s leaning hands and knees on the floor, pulling up old patches of fraying moth-damaged cream carpet by himself, he has an extraordinarily good view of his brother. He peers underneath the side of his elbow and emits a sigh loud enough to be heard in the high heavens at the state of him. Ever since the two of them had signed onto this minor contract a few days ago, the man had hounded your side like a panting dog every chance he got. Even now, more than six hours into his workday, he was leaning as flirtatiously as he could against your kitchen doorway, letting out one of his ‘charming’ throaty laughs at something you had said. With his boot resting against the frame, and his hips pushed out so the top of his back is slammed awkwardly against the wall, he looks as if he’s holding the whole world in the palms of his hands.

As bitter as Joel wants to feel, the resentment can’t quite reach the inner chords of his heart. The Miller brothers were notoriously terrible when it came to love: with his wife gone, and Tommy often away too often for romance to even come into the picture, most nights usually ended with Sarah sandwiched between uncle Tommy and Joel on the sofa, the three of them watching cheesy 80s action movies and sharing round a carton of ice cream. Tommy had never been one for really getting onto the dating scene, but by god had Joel never seen his brother look so delirious. So giddy. So lovestruck. In all honesty, it kind of scared him. It was the same overjoyed look he had when he held Sarah for the first time: that same hopeful glint that seemed to drown him from the inside out, the kind that promised nothing else in life would ever matter as long as he got to love this person till the end of time. It was thrilling, and electrifying but also overpowering. All consuming.

He supposes he just doesn’t want to see his brother hurt if he ever loses that look.

The sweat beads on his forehead as his face contorts and he comes back to himself, cursing his brother with all the chance words he could think of in his head. He swears to god, he doesn’t think Tommy has even looked anywhere except at your eyes, or down to your lips and back, within the last hour or two. Every single time Joel quickly jogged past to chug some water and get back to it, or to rummage through the tool box to find the right size nail, Tommy would swat his brother in the stomach if he thought his mouth was opening to interrupt him. Joel sighs again when he looks up at the clock hanging up on the wall at the start of the staircase, nestled in between slightly crooked pictures of you, and what he could only guess to be your family, on holiday at some shore. The hands read 3:15.

‘Shit’, he murmurs to himself. He bites his bottom lip as he speeds up, fast enough that his fingers start to shake red with the effort. ‘If I’m late to pick up Sarah one more damn time she might just move in with those nutso neighbours. At least they got cookies. All I’m bringing home is a dumbass.’

Sadly for Joel, you had retreated back towards the front door to collect the mail, leaving Tommy alone and swinging his wrench around in his hand for a moment. For a second, he was too busy smiling giddily to himself and watching the back of your head walking away to notice the fuming sentiments of his brother. Only for a second, though.

‘Hey, I can hear you!’

Joel waves a hand at him, leaning back to rest on the heels of his feet. ‘Oh, spare me- if I have to hear one more damn joke about how you spend your days doubled over and ‘drenched in sweat’’, he brandishes the crowbar he’s using generally towards his brother, whose hands are out at his sides in mock outrage, ‘I swear I might just lose my goddamn mind.’

‘Far too late for that’, Tommy manages to mutter to himself. The suave fudger, as soon as he sees you turn back towards him the mockingly bitter look on his face is straight back into the sunniest smile, bright enough to rival the warm glow of a thousand fireflies on a blooming spring night. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand.

‘Well ma’am, as I was saying, this here you see... uh, this one here is a pry bar. If you get it in there it can, uh, it can really remove the trim, but you got to get right there - right in the action. Right down on your knees, down and dirty with it-’

Joel tears up another edge of the carpet a little too roughly, and both your heads swivel round to look at him: yours, a curious glance, as if you’d forgotten he was there. Tommy’s was more of a... well, let’s just say, it was more of a stern glare than a brotherly look. Joel ignores him, shaking his head and leaning back down heavily on his knees to shake his wrists out.

‘Tommy, you wanna give me a hand here?’

‘Uh... yeah, in just a second. Anyway, if you want me to teach you how to use this thing and save a little money in the future with some good ol’ fashioned DIY, I’m sure I have a second or two-’

‘Yeah, just a second is right. Tommy, we gotta go. Excuse us ma’am.’ Joel stands and makes to tap at the watch on his wrist, looking down in confusion at the bare skin, forgetting for a moment that he had left on his bed side table last night as it had begun to run slow. He clicks his tongue, walking over to his brother to grab his arm and nearly haul the poor dopey fool away from your side. He manages to shake him off, not wasting any time in coming to linger in front of you again; his chest puffs out, rising with a sombre breath past the edges of his rust coloured denim shirt, as if he’s about to say something desperate. Yet the words seem to catch him in the back of his throat, jamming up and trying to claw their tendrils out past his teeth, and yet he just freezes. For the first time in his life, he looks terrified as he stands there with mouth agape and whiskey eyes widening in front of your bewildered face. In the end, he seems to droop, and instead resigns himself back to a night of sitting up with Sarah and Joel if he was lucky, or out prowling around the downtown area if he still felt so disconsolate and out of sorts.

‘Well, some other time then ma’am.’ He smiles fondly down at you, wistfulness in every word despite not having even left your line of sight yet. He tips his head down in a courteous, yet sorrow filled half nod before he tries to saunter nonchalantly over to join his brother in collecting up all the tools he had barely even touched that day. Joel manages to stack up his boxes into the cradles of his arms before his brother’s even done talking, and is already heading off towards the door with a final nod goodbye at you; whether he was really done first, or his brother was just lollygagging to spend more time with you, well - oh heck, he knew rightly Tommy was dawdling around, pretending to fiddle with a few wrenches and checking his measuring tape was still extending just because he didn’t want to leave your company. If he couldn’t muster the courage to just ask you out right there and then, well, maybe luck would find some other way for these things to come about.

Eventually, though, he did have to leave, if only to stop Joel from honking the truck horn for the hundredth time. He seems to be leaning on the horn now, and even you were peering anxiously outside and scanning your neighbours’ houses to see if any waving fists had erupted from front doors yet. Taking the queue, he heads to make out, but before his foot can even step onto your porch you’ve run up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Mr Miller! Mr Miller! Wait a second- please!’

Joel can’t see much from where he’s leaning against the steering wheel; from what he can gather, you seem to have gripped onto his brother’s shoulder and turned him back around to face you. He looks surprised, but it takes pretty minimal persuasion for hun to be led back to your torso. Without letting go of the bunched fist against his bicep, you seem to be shoving a folded note into his hand, and Joel snickers at the way Tommy pounces on the opportunity to run his pointer finger delicately up and down your open palm. You whisper something, and he nods so enthusiastically Joel’s sure his bobble-head is about to snap off.

Before he can blow the horn again, you really manage to surprise the heck out of both Miller brothers. Stepping up on your tippy toes, you press a quick kiss against Tommy’s cheek, before shyly letting him go and shoving him back out onto the porch. He pretends to trip over his feet, legs crossing as he dreamily parades down the front steps. His eyes roll back in his head as the rest of his body flushes, his hands coming up to rest against his vest where he heart lies: to anybody else, his reaction may look a little ostentatious, but Joel knows it’s as real as day. When Tommy Miller gives his heart away, even past the little teasing and flirting, he really does give his whole damn heart away. And it looks like you’ve got his caged up all nice and tightly, burning to charcoals in your hands.

He clambers into the car, waving a crumpled piece of paper in his hand with your phone number printed on it. As he slides in, bucking his belt up and fidgeting his shoulders back into the seat, he licks his bottom lip and whistles lowly through his teeth.

‘I have a date tomorrow.’ Joel scoffs, busy fiddling with the gears to even notice the flash of anger that quickly passes through his otherwise euphoric looking brother. He looks forward, taking one last glance towards your house and waving cheerfully as he spots you lingering near the front door. ‘On your birthday too. Huh, guess I might be too busy seeing my girlfriend to come to your surprise party’, he jests with a wink at his older brother, clipping in his seat belt and snorting through one nostril.

‘Okay - one, she’s not your girlfriend yet buckaroo, calm down.’ Joel rolls his eyes at the childlike glee that brightens his brother’s face at the word ‘girlfriend’ and turns the ignition. ‘And two, I have a surprise party?’

‘Well I haven’t planned anything, since you’re not five years old, but I’m sure Sarah’s doing something. Poor kid really loves your pissy ass, you know that?’

‘Yeah, I know’, he sighs out, beginning to reverse. He flicks up pieces of gravel from your driveway as the two of them slowly begin to recede into the distance.

‘Damn, that just reminds me, you really are goddamned old now. You’re getting so wrinkled, next year they’re gonna ‘ave to put you on display in some kind of museum for extinct dinosaurs.’

Joel scoffs as he turns his attention away from the road behind his headrest to stare incredulously at his brother. ‘All dinosaurs are extinct, dumbass. You’re pretty god damn stupid, you know that?’

‘Well you only know ‘cause Sarah told you-’

You can’t help but let out a bursting laugh as you watch the two of them go parading off into the wispy tendrils of the auburn sunset; the car has begun to stall as the two respectable workmen are too busy slapping each other’s shoulders across their seats like toddlers to notice.

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #tommy miller #tommy miller imagine #joel miller imagine #tlou hbo #tommy miller x reader #the last of us imagine #tlou imagine #the last of us hbo #tommy miller fluff #gabriel luna #tommy tlou #tommy the last of us #sarah miller #x reader

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