i don’t post a lot i know !! but i write loads of things in the background and then post them when i feel like they’re good enough, and im just having a social media break overall.
i’ll still be liking posts on tumblr because where else am i gonna get my bedtime story. i just won’t be replying to asks or dms and i wont be commenting etc.
context: reader and Ted go on a camping trip. The trip consists of Ted doing everything, reader teasing him and ending the night with a cozy night watching a movie!
contains: established relationship, fluff,
You stood on the pavement with your arms folded, watching him as he attempted to wedge a plastic storage box between the rolled up sleeping bag and your guys’ temt.
“Ted.”
“Yeah?”
“How long are we going for?”
He stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder at you. “Two nights.”
“Right.” You nodded toward the car. “Because it looks like we’re packing to go off grid.”
“We need all of this.”
“You’ve packed an extension cord.”
Ted paused. He slowly pulled the extension cord back out of the boot.
“Okay. That one might’ve been a bit of a stretch.” You laughed and walked around to the passenger side while Ted shut the boot with both hands, giving it an unnecessarily firm pat afterward.
“There,” he announced. “Perfect.”
“You’ve been watching camping videos all week, haven’t you?” You questioned.
“No,” he trailed off.
“Teddy”
His mouth immediately twitched upward. It happened every single time. You’d discovered it months ago, completely by accident. You’d called him Teddy one morning when he was half asleep, and he’d tried to pretend it hadn’t affected him. Unfortunately for him, Ted was terrible at hiding that little pleased smile.
Now he turned away from you under the guise of checking his pockets.
“Don’t call me that when I’m trying to be outdoorsy and masculine,” he mumbled.
You grinned. “Okay, Teddy.” There it was again. That smile. “Get in the car.,” he nodded toward the car.
The campsite was a couple of hours away, far enough that the city gradually disappeared behind you and was replaced by long roads, fields and stretches of trees. Ted drove for most of it. One hand stayed on the steering wheel while the other occasionally reached over to change the music or steal something from the bag of snacks sitting between your feet.
“Hey!” You exclaimed.
“What?” Ted asked innocently chewing, smirking while doing so.
“You said those were mine,” You whined.
You laughed, looking back out of the window. He had been ridiculously excited about the trip. That was probably your favourite part. Ted didn’t seem capable of doing things halfway. If he found something interesting, he wanted to know everything about it. Camping had apparently become his latest obsession.
For the past week, packages had been arriving at the house containing increasingly specific camping equipment: A lantern, a tiny portable stove, afirst-aid kit that could probably supply a small hospital, some kind of multi-tool Ted had spent twenty minutes explaining to you. And, most importantly, the enormous double sleeping bag he’d proudly unveiled two nights ago.
“We could’ve just brought blankets,” you’d told him.
“Absolutely not.”
Now, as you watched him drum his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the music, you couldn’t help smiling.
Ted caught you looking.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
The campsite was beautiful. That was the first thing you noticed when you stepped out of the car. Tall trees surrounded the clearing, their leaves shifting softly whenever the breeze moved through them. The afternoon sun came through in patches, and somewhere beyond the trees you could hear running water.
You stretched your arms above your head. “Oh, this is so lovely Ted.”
“Right?”
Ted appeared beside you. He had his sunglasses on now, hands planted proudly on his hips as he surveyed the empty patch of grass that would become your home for the next couple of nights. You looked at him. Ted looked unbelievably pleased with himself.
“Okay, Bear Grylls,” you teased.
Within ten minutes, everything had been unloaded and Ted had claimed and drilled it into his own head that he didn’t need the tent instructions, and that “hes done this before and he can do it again. A few more minutes passed and he was reading the tent instructions. You sat comfortably in one of the camping chairs he’d brought, drinking from your water bottle while you watched him.
Honestly, this was excellent entertainment. Ted was tall enough that setting up the tent should have been relatively easy, but somehow his height seemed to make the entire process more dramatic. Every time he stepped over one of the ropes, you expected his ridiculously long legs to get tangled.
At one point, he stood completely still, holding two tent poles. You watched him. He looked at one. Then the other. Then the tent. Then back at the poles.
“Do you want help with anything? I can thread the poles through while you-“ You offered.
“No.”
“Teddy-,” you started before you were cut off…again.
“No, no, no.” He pointed one pole at you. “You stay there. I can do this i- i’m just uhh having a break...” You raised your eyebrows and he’s blatantly obvious lie.
He continued, “I have this under control.” You bit back a laugh. He caught you smiling. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing at you!!” You absolutely were and there was no hiding it.
Eventually, the tent began resembling an actual tent. Then that was when you got to enjoy the view that was infront of you; Ted had taken off his button down shirt and was moving around in a tighter fitting T-shirt that he was wearing underneath and carrying bags back and forth from the car. You rested your chin against your hand and that’s when you realised that maybe camping wasn’t so bad afterall. Ted stood up after securing another peg and caught you staring again.
“What are you looking at?” He questioned looking around at where your line of view was trying to figure out what you were actually looking at.
“Nothing.”
He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head when he realised you were actually looking at him.
“I’m just enjoying myself and watching you.” You smiled fondly at him
“Watching me do manual labour?”
“Mhmm.” You nodded.
Ted shook his head, although he was smiling as he went back to work. You watched him stretch up to adjust the top of the tent. Tall. Broad shoulders. Hair slightly messy from repeatedly running his hands through it.
Yeah, you could happily sit here all afternoon.
“Are you seriously not going to help?” he called.“You told me to sit down and that you’ve done this many times before. AND that you’ve got it under control!”
By early evening, your little campsite was finished. The tent was up. The air mattress was inflated. The sleeping bag was spread over it. Two chairs sat outside beside a small folding table, and Ted had even hung one of the lanterns from a hook near the entrance. He stepped back to admire everything.
“I’d say that’s pretty good.”
You came up beside him and wrapped your arms briefly around his middle. “You did good.”
“I did great.” He teased. Ted Laughed and you let go and wandered over to the food box. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll cook, you’ve done enough already today. You go sit down and chill for a bit.”
Ted dropped into one of the chairs with an exaggerated sigh while you started getting everything together. You’d brought ingredients for an easy dinner, and after watching Ted build your entire campsite, you figured you could at least handle the food. You’d barely started before you heard his chair creak behind you.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
Ted appeared beside you. “I’ve got it.”
“You’ve been setting everything up for ages. Sit down.” You pointed the spatula at the seat he was just sat on.
“No.”
“Teddy.” That smile again. Ted looked down at the pan, lips pressing together like he was desperately attempting not to react.
You put a hand lightly on his shoulder and steered him toward the camping chair. “Sit down. Relax. Enjoy nature. Look at a tree or something.”
He dropped into the chair and sulked like a toddler who had just had their ipad took off them. “Fine.”
“Thank you!” You turned around and gleamed at him
He watched you take over dinner. For someone who had been banished from cooking, Ted spent an impressive amount of time asking you questions about cooking.
“How long does it need?”
“what flavour is it?”
“how would you cook this at home?”
Dinner turned out really good. The two of you ate outside the tent as the sky slowly darkened, knees occasionally bumping beneath the little folding table Ted insisted on bringing.
It got colder quickly once the sun disappeared and you started shivering but tried to hide your chattering teeth by chewing excessively on your food, Ted looked across at you.
“You cold?” He asked already knowing the answer.
You nodded your head rubbing your hands between your thighs. “Mhmm, a little bit.”
“Where’s your hoodie?” He asked
“Umm i’m not too sure..”
He sighed and started to take his own hoodie off which he had put on as you were dishing up the food for you both.
“No, I’m fine.” Ted was already passing you his hoodie
“No no, you’re cold. put this on.” He insisted and you couldn’t say no to him, so you took the hoodie and put it on and you were overwhelmed with the warmth that had been absorbed from his own body.
Once you had finished eating and everything was cleaned up, you both got into the tent and changed into your pyjamas. Ted disappeared into the tent first while you finished brushing your teeth using a cup of water and the field to spit the toothpaste out when you were finished.
When you crawled inside a few minutes later, you found him lying flat on the air mattress, wriggling around trying to get comfortable. His feet were pressed against the end of the tent and his head was nearly touching the other side.
Safe to say he looked miserable.
You immediately laughed as soon as you saw the state of him.
“This isn’t funny.” He shot a joking dirty look at you. “I am too tall for camping.”
“You’re too tall for most things that we do together.” You joked.
Ted shuffled downward. His feet pushed harder against the tent wall and when he shuffled upward his hair touched the other end.
You crawled onto the mattress beside him.
“We’re living like this for two nights.” Ted sighed dramatically. “I may not survive. Reader, i genuinely might have to sleep outside tomorrow night.”
You unzipped the double sleeping bag and climbed inside.
“Come on.” You tugged on the bit of fabric which was under Ted and he eventually manoeuvred himself into it beside you. You would be lying if you said it didn’t take much effort (Mostly because his legs seemed to go on forever.)
Eventually he settled down, shoulder pressed against yours beneath the sleeping bag.
“Hmm- This is actually pretty comfortable,” he admitted and nodded to himself.
“Oh, suddenly camping is good again?”
“The sleeping bag is good. The tent remains my enemy.” You laughed and shifted closer.
Ted reached behind himself for the laptop and open up Netflix and started to scroll through all the movie that were available.
You rested your head against his shoulder. “No horror.” You firmly stated.
He cranes his head to look at you trying to argue his point. “We’re literally in the woods. This is the perfect environment for horror!”
“Exactly why I’m saying no. I don’t want to have a nightmare and wake up to be physically in the nightmare.”
Ted grinned. “Scared?”
“Teddy, please pick a normal movie.” You pleaded.
His expression softened into that stupid little smile again. You caught it.
“You like when I call you Teddy.” You teased in a singsong voice.
Ted cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “Movie.” You laughed but let him change the subject.
Eventually, you chose something you’d both already seen, which meant neither of you had to concentrate particularly hard. The laptop rested near the foot of the mattress and you lay comfortably beneath the sleeping bag, warm despite the cold air outside.
Ted gradually moved closer to you as the movie progressed. At first his head was against your shoulder. Then he shifted slightly. Then again. Until eventually you realised his head was resting comfortably against your chest.
You looked down at him.
“Ted?” Nothing.
You smiled. Of course. The man who’d spent hours enthusiastically setting up camp had finally crashed.
His glasses were still on, carefully, trying not to wake him, you reached down and slipped them from his face. Ted made a quiet sleepy noise and shifted closer.
You froze but he soon settled down again hugging you a little bit tighter.
You folded his glasses and placed them safely beside the mattress out of the way from potentially getting crushed. The movie continued playing quietly in front of you, but you weren’t really watching anymore.
You looked down at Ted.
Without his glasses, asleep with his hair messy from the tent and one arm loosely resting across you, he looked completely exhausted. You ran your fingers gently through his hair.
All day he’d been doing something.. Driving, unpacking, building the tent, inflating the mattress.
You smiled to yourself. “Big outdoorsman,” you whispered and Ted didn’t move.
You leaned down and pressed a small kiss to his forehead. “Night, Teddy.”
For a second, you thought he was completely asleep and then the tiniest smile appeared on his face.
“Ted?” Still nothing, you narrowed your eyes. “I know you heard me.” His smile grew slightly.
You laughed quietly, careful not to disturb anyone camping nearby. “You’re ridiculous.”
Ted finally mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “Go to sleep.”
Ted shifted again, getting comfortable against you. A few seconds passed then, barely audible, he murmured, “Say it again.”
You looked down at him. “What?” You know exactly what he meant
Your smile grew. “Goodnight, Teddy.”
There it was. That little pleased smile. Ted tucked himself closer beneath the sleeping bag, apparently satisfied. “G’night.”
You reached over and lowered the volume on the laptop. Outside, everything was quiet apart from the wind moving gently through the trees.
You’d spent most of the day watching Ted enthusiastically throw himself into camping like he’d been preparing for an expedition rather than a two-night stay at a perfectly ordinary campsite.
And now your six-foot-something boyfriend was curled awkwardly inside a tent he’d already declared too small, asleep before the movie had even finished.
You kissed his forehead once more. Maybe you’d let him plan the next trip too.
tumblr needs to add a “not read/seen” toggle like tiktok has “not watched” when you search a specific thing. because i have read almost every single tommy shelby x reader fic and it never shows me any new fics or ones by writers ive never stumbled across
context: reader and alfie go on a little getaway in a small air b&b.
notes: set in autumn (because i miss halloween omg), literally just pure fluff and cuteness
sophie speaks!: just got back from my weekend getaway 🤞
The motorway stretched endlessly ahead, rain tapping softly against the windscreen while Alfie balanced his camera against the dashboard with one hand.
“Right,” he grinned into the lens, squinting dramatically at the road signs, “we’ve officially been driving for, like… three hours? Maybe four? Would usually take 2 hours to get where we’re heading but there’s so much traffic, bro. I can’t feel my legs anymore.”
“You stopped feeling your legs at Milton Keynes,” you laughed from the passenger seat, pulling your Alfies hoodie sleeves over your hands.
He turned the camera toward you instantly. “She’s exposing me already. We haven’t even reached Staffordshire yet.”
“You’ve complained every twenty minutes.”
“That’s because London roads have traumatised me!”
The camera shook as he drove over a pothole and he reached over and squeezed your knee before focusing back on the motorway. Grey clouds rolled over the countryside now, the city was long gone behind you. The further north you drove, the prettier everything became; rolling hills, stone walls, sheep scattered across bright green fields.
You rested your head against the window while Alfie quietly sang along to the playlist coming through the speakers. Off-key. Very off-key.
“Please stop filming me,” you muttered when you noticed the camera pointed at you again.
“Never. The people are always begging to see you. I like to see your face when i’m editing, girl.”
“The people don’t need footage of me eating petrol station crisps.”
“They absolutely do.”
By the time you finally turned down the narrow countryside lanes toward the cabin, the sun had started setting. Golden light filtered through the trees, making everything look unreal.
“Oh my god,” you whispered.
The cabin sat tucked away at the edge of a field surrounded by trails and woodland. Tiny. Cosy. Warm lights glowing through the windows.
Alfie immediately picked the camera back up. “Wait, wait, wait — this is actually sick.”
The gravel crunched under your shoes as you climbed out the car, both of you stretching dramatically after the drive.
“Look how small it is,” you laughed.
“It’s literally one room.”
And it really was. One double bed pushed against the wall, a little sofa opposite a small wood burner, a kitchenette squeezed into the corner. Outside sat a picnic bench and fire pit overlooking endless fields.
“It’s perfect,” Alfie stated.
You smiled at him. “Even with the outside toilet?”
He looked toward the little building way down the path.
“…Actually no, that part’s terrifying.”
After unpacking your bags, the two of you ended up sprawled across the bed almost immediately, exhausted from the drive.
Alfie lay flat on his back while you rested beside him, your legs tangled together beneath the blankets. The cabin smelled faintly of wood smoke and rain.
He held the camera lazily above both of you.
“Cabin update,” he announced dramatically. “We have survived.”
“You nearly crashed into a hedge reversing.”
“That was ONE time.”
“You also forgot where reverse was.”
“I was under pressure.”
You snorted into his shoulder while he laughed too, dropping the camera beside him.
For a while neither of you said anything. The quiet out there felt different from London. No traffic. No people yelling outside. Just wind brushing through the trees and the occasional crackle from the fire pit outside.
Alfie turned his head slightly to look at you.
“This was a good idea.”
“It was your idea.”
“Yeah, but you agreed to it. Dangerous behaviour.”
You rolled your eyes before pulling the blanket higher over both of you.
“Can we stay here forever?”
“Absolutely not,” he said instantly. “The toilet situation alone would end me.”
Later, bundled in hoodies and coats, you wandered through the trails surrounding the cabin.
The fields stretched for miles, grass swaying in the cold breeze while the sky slowly faded pink above you.
Alfie kept stopping every five seconds to vlog.
“Look at this,” he said, spinning the camera toward the view. “This is like… Hobbit country.”
“Hobbits don’t exist.”
“You don’t know that.”
You walked ahead laughing while he jogged to catch up, slipping his free hand into yours automatically.
The path wound through little wooded areas and open hillsides. Occasionally you’d spot sheep staring at you suspiciously from behind fences.
At one point Alfie wrapped an arm around your shoulders while still holding the camera.
“This,” he announced, “is peak.”
“You say that about everything.”
“Because everything is class when i’m with you.”
You tried not to smile too hard at that.
By the time you got back to the cabin, it was freezing outside, but Alfie insisted you make use of the outdoor fire pit.
Alfie crouched beside the fire pit wearing a beanie and looking far too serious about cooking.
“I’m literally a survival expert now,” he said while poking at the flames.
“You burned the burgers.”
“That’s flavour.”
You sat on the bench wrapped in a blanket watching him attempt to cook dinner over the fire. Every few minutes he’d glance toward the camera to explain what he was doing despite clearly improvising everything.
“You definitely Googled this.”
“Fake news.”
“You watched one TikTok.”
“Again.. fake news.”
Still, somehow, the food turned out decent.
You ate together outside under the cold night sky, shoulders pressed together while the fire crackled in front of you.
It felt weirdly perfect.
Later that night the cabin was warm and dimly lit, both of you curled beneath the duvet on the tiny double bed.
Your iPad rested against your knees playing Hocus Pocus, orange autumn light flickering across the screen.
Alfie had originally claimed he “wasn’t really watching it,” but within ten minutes he’d started asking questions about the plot.
“You’ve seen this before,” you said.
“Yeah but I forgot literally everything.”
“You forgot the witches?”
“I forgot there were multiple witches.”
You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair while he shifted closer beside you.
Eventually he stopped talking completely.
His head rested against your chest now, one arm lazily wrapped around your waist while the film continued quietly in the background.
You looked down to find him half asleep already.
“Alfie.”
“Mhm?”
“You’re snoring.”
“I’m awake.”
“You’re literally not.”
He made a sleepy noise of protest before settling even closer into you.
Outside, wind rustled through the trees surrounding the cabin while the fire pit crackled faintly in the distance.
You smiled softly, brushing your fingers through his curls again as his breathing slowed completely.
By the end of the movie, Alfie was fully asleep on your chest, warm beneath the blankets, the tiny cabin quiet and cosy around you both.
context: drinking on an empty stomach while also meeting your boyfriends friends is not a good idea… or is it?
notes: i lowkey hate this
Spring in the UK had finally decided to behave itself; blue skies, soft breeze, and just enough sun to make everything glow without turning it into a sweaty mess. You stood outside the pub garden, fingers nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of your top, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted.
You hadn’t eaten.
Not properly, anyway. A few sips of water this morning didn’t count, but nerves had completely wiped your appetite. And now… now it was too late to fix that. Beside you, Alfie nudged your shoulder gently.
“Hey,” he said, smiling down at you, soft and reassuring. “They’re literally just people. Slightly more annoying people, but still.”
You huffed a tiny laugh. “That doesn’t help.”
“It should. You deal with me, don’t you?”
“That’s barely surviving.”
He grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and slipped his hand into yours. “You’ll be fine. And if they scare you, I’ll fight them.”
“You would not.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” he admitted immediately. “But I’d strongly consider it.”
That earned a real laugh from you - brief, but enough to loosen the knot in your chest. He squeezed your hand once more before guiding you through the gate into the beer garden.
You were immediately faced with noise. Laughter, overlapping conversations, someone loudly arguing about something ridiculous.
A long table was filled with Alfies friends, plus their girlfriends; Calfreezy, Harry, Chip and Sabina, George and Yasmin, Arthur, Italian Bach and Liv.
Meanwhile, you felt like you’d just walked into somewhere you don’t belong. Alfie noticed instantly. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “Stay with me, yeah?”
There was a ripple of laughter, but it wasn’t mean, it was warm, welcoming in a chaotic way. Still, your nerves didn’t fully settle.
Introductions blurred together- names, smiles, quick jokes. You did your best, nodding, replying, hoping you didn’t look as anxious as you felt.
Then Alfie handed you a drink.
“Just something light,” he said. “Might help you relax.” You didn’t even think about it.
Big mistake.
At first, it was fine.
You sat tucked slightly into Alfie’s side, listening more than speaking, slowly sipping your drink. The conversation bounced all over the place-stories, jokes, teasing and gradually, you started to feel… warmer. Looser.
Like the volume of your thoughts had been turned down.
So you took another sip.
And another.
And then it hit. Fast.
Way too fast.
“Wait—WAIT,” you suddenly said, sitting up straighter, pointing at Harry. “Say that again.”
Harry blinked. “What?”
“That thing you just said. About the pigeon.”
“I didn’t say anything about a pige-”
“You implied it.”
The table went quiet for a second. Then burst into laughter.
Alfie turned to you slowly. “You alright?”
You looked at him with complete seriousness. “I understand everything now.”
“That’s… concerning.”
“I’ve unlocked social skills,” you announced proudly.
“Oh no,” Alfie muttered.
Ten minutes later, you were the centre of the table. Not intentionally it just… happened.
You were telling a story. Loudly. With dramatic hand gestures. At one point you stood up to demonstrate something that absolutely did not require standing.
“And THEN-” you said, nearly knocking over your drink, “he had the AUDACITY-”
Calfreezy was doubled over laughing.
Even Chip had put his phone down, which honestly said everything.
“You’re joking,” Harry wheezed. “She’s funnier than Alfie.”
“That’s not hard,” you shot back instantly.
The table erupted again.
Alfie stared at you, somewhere between horrified and impressed. “Who are you?”
“I am me,” you said confidently.
“You’re never this confident.”
“You’re holding me back,” you accused.
“I am absolutely not-”
“You are. Emotionally.”
Bach was practically falling out of his chair laughing. “Alfie, she’s brilliant, mate. What have you been feeding her?”
“Apparently nothing,” Alfie said, narrowing his eyes at you. “Wait… have you eaten today?”
You froze.
“…define eaten.”
“Oh my-” He dragged a hand down his face. “You’re drunk on an empty stomach.”
“I prefer the term efficient.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
It only got worse. Or better—depending on who you asked. You started rating everyone at the table based on completely random criteria;
“Arthur, you’ve got strong ‘forgets his keys but blames the door’ energy.”
“That’s oddly accurate,” Arthur admitted.
“Chip,” you continued, squinting at him, “you look like you know where the best snacks are at all times.”
“That’s just true,” Chip shrugged.
“And Alfie-” Alfie braced himself.
“You’re… alright.”
The table howled.
“ALRIGHT?” Alfie repeated. “That’s what I get?”
“You’re lucky I like you.”
“You like me?”
“Don’t push it.”
Eventually, Alfie had enough.
Not because you were embarrassing-honestly, everyone adored you-but because you were very clearly gone.
You nearly tripped over nothing.
You tried to sip from an empty glass.
At one point, you leaned over and whispered (very loudly), “I think your friends like me.”
“They love you,” he said. “Too much. You’re never living this down.”
“Good.”
“Not good for me.”
He stood up, gently pulling you with him.
“Alright, that’s us,” he announced.
“Awhhh,” came the chorus from the table.
“Bring her back,” George added.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “But feed her first next time.”
“Definitely feed her,” Calfreezy agreed.
Alfie shook his head, laughing despite himself. “Noted.”
You waved dramatically. “Goodbye, my fans!”
“You’re not famous!” Alfie whispered harshly as he guided you away.
“I am in my heart.”
The walk home was… slow. You leaned heavily into him, your energy finally dipping.
“You didn’t tell me you hadn’t eaten,” he said.
“I forgot.”
“You don’t forget food.”
“I was nervous,” you admitted, quieter now. He softened immediately.His arm wrapped more securely around you.
“You did great today though”
“I embarrassed you.”
“You absolutely did,” he said. “But they love you. I love you.”
You smiled sleepily. “Good.”
“Next time,” he added, “you’re having a full meal before we go anywhere.”
“Bossy.”
You tilted your head onto his shoulder. “Still like me?” He glanced down at you, amused.
“Yeah,” he said. “Even when you’re calling me ‘alright’ in front of everyone.”
You grinned.
“Alright is generous, actually.”
“Okay, that’s it,” he laughed. “We’re getting you home before you say anything worse.”
“Too late,” you mumbled. “I’ve peaked.”
He shook his head, smiling the whole way back. And honestly? He couldn’t wait to tell that story forever.
could you write one where the reader is also a musician/pop star and she brings out sam at one of her shows and they sing together?? something like rein me in
the reader and sam have been dating for a few months but this is like their hard launch and the internet goes crazy!
context: you and sam hard launch your relationship at your first arena tour with an unreleased song
notes: requested! inspired by rein me in when olivia brought sam out at her London shows
The arena feels bigger than anything you’ve ever stepped into before.
Not just big. It’s endless.
The kind of space where your voice could disappear if you let it. The kind of space that reminds you, very quickly, that this is your first arena tour. Your name on the screens. Your songs filling seats that stretch so far back you can’t even make out faces—just movement, light, energy.
Backstage, your hands won’t stop moving. Adjusting your rings. Fixing nothing in particular. Breathing in, out, in again.
Because tonight isn’t just another show.
Tonight is THAT show.
You catch a glimpse of your phone lighting up on the table, your notifications were stacking up, fans already posting. Someone’s spotted him. And Johnny too. Blurry photos near the venue entrance, captions spiraling
“wait why is sam fender here???”
“johnny blue hat too???”
“same label maybe???”
You bite back a smile. Let them guess.
The lights go down.
The roar hits you like a wave—loud, immediate, overwhelming in the best way. You step out, and for a second, everything settles. This part you know. This part is yours.
Song after song, the set builds. Your voice steadies. Your body relaxes into it. You let yourself feel it—the crowd singing back, the lights warming your skin, the pulse of something real and massive.
You reach THE song.
The one you haven’t released yet.
You step up to the microphone, heart suddenly back in your throat.
“So…” you say, breathless but smiling, scanning the crowd. “This next one is… new. And it kinda feels like something or someone is missing.”
The crowd reacts instantly cheers, confused laughter, phones lifting higher.
You glance toward the side of the stage.
“Don’t you think?”
A figure walks out first, a saxophone slung casually, already grinning as the crowd starts to recognize him. Johnny lifts a hand in a half-wave, stepping into place like he belongs there.
And then he follows.
The reaction is immediate.
It explodes.
Sam steps into the light, guitar already strapped on, looking half-amused, half-overwhelmed by the sheer volume of it. But then his eyes find you and everything about him softens.
You don’t even think. You cross the stage quickly, almost running the last step, and throw your arms around him. It’s a big hug.. tight, grounding, like you’ve been holding it in all night.
He laughs softly against your shoulder, squeezing you back just as hard. Then, without overthinking it you pull back just enough and press a quick, soft kiss to his lips.
The crowd loses it.
You can hear it even through the ringing in your ears.
He’s smiling when you step back, shaking his head slightly like he still can’t believe this is happening but he moves into position anyway, fingers already finding the strings.
Johnny cues in with the sax, smooth and effortless.
And then the song begins.
It’s different from anything you’ve released before still soft, still delicate, but layered now with Sam’s voice and his bands instruments.
His guitar cuts through gently at first, then builds.
When he starts singing his verse, the shift is electric. His voice wraps around yours in a way that sounds perfect.
And I let go of everything I ever had
'Cause I couldn't give the love you deserved
By the Gunner you shouted, "Oh my God"
You glance at him mid-line… Big mistake.
Because he’s already looking at you. Not casually. Not performatively. Just longing. Like the rest of the arena doesn’t exist.
Your chest tightens, but you don’t break. You sing your lines and you catch him quietly, almost unconsciously mouthing the words along with you.
There's nothing brave in walking alone
Love in exile has nowhere to go, so come on home
Mm, don't run away from my tenderness
By the final chorus, the crowd is singing along—even though they’ve never heard it before. That kind of moment. That kind of energy.
You step closer to him without meaning to, your shoulder brushing his arm as you hit the last note together.
Now I'm working myself up to a nice, warm bliss
All my memories of you ring like tinnitus
If I stop, it's just pain, please don't rein me in
Now I'm working myself up to a nice, warm bliss(Working myself)
All my memories of you ring like tinnitus (My memories of you)
If I stop, it's just pain, please don't rein me in
And when the song ends, there’s a split second of silence. Then chaos.
Later, the videos are everywhere. Clips of the hug, the kiss, the reveal.
But the ones that really blow up they’re zoomed-in, slightly shaky footage of him standing just behind you, playing the guitar with his eyes fixed on you like he forgot there were cameras.
Another from the side angle, catching him mouthing your lyrics, a small smile tugging at his lips.
The tweets start to pile up..
“he is DOWN BAD”
“this is the softest thing I’ve ever seen???”
“indie rock boyfriend x pop princess is REAL???”
“the way he looks at her I’m unwell”
And the narrative spreads instantly: You, the delicate, shimmering pop voice, and him, the grounded, indie rock boy with a guitar slung low. Somehow… working perfectly.
Backstage after, it’s quieter.
You’re still buzzing, adrenaline not even close to fading. He leans against the wall, watching you like he did onstage but softer now, private again.
“Well,” he says, a hint of a grin. “That went alright.”
You laugh, stepping closer, nudging his arm.
“Just alright?”
He shakes his head, reaching for your hand, lacing your fingers together.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Think we might’ve just broken the internet.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. And when he leans down to kiss you again this time, slower, steadier… There’s no crowd. No lights. Just the two of you.
hiya! do you still wrote tommy shelby things? would love just like a lil fluffy snippet of early s1-s1 tommy x reader where reader accidentally knicks themselves on his cap and he is a big protective sook about it?
(all good if not, just wanted to msg in case!! <3)
