#But this he gets—he understands—this is maybe something closer to the Tommy he knew before the war

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy and Lucy read Lizzie's letter and meet with Michael after his return from America.

Word Count: 5,823

Warnings: Smut, blowjob, polyamory, references to pregnancy, and an unhappy marriage.

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Chapter 6: A Display in the Dark

“Fucking hell.” 

That was the first thing that passed Tommy’s lips when he was done reading the letter Lizzie had given Lucy to pass onto him. Lucy watched him toss the pages of closely-scrawled words onto his desk, ripping off his glasses to set down beside them. 

She’d read the letter over his shoulder, squinting at the various spelling and grammatical errors throughout. Lucy wondered if maybe Lizzie had been drunk while writing at least some of it. She didn’t remember any of the work that she’d done as Tommy’s secretary being so sloppy.

The contempt which seemed to bleed out through the words scrawled on the pages was a stark contrast from the apologetic, saddened Lizzie she had spoken to not even an hour ago. But she supposed that she shouldn’t be all that surprised. That was how Lizzie was: sweet one moment, then wrathful in the next.

And to think that they all called her two-faced.

“I can’t really say if that was what I was expecting or not,” she commented, turning to look out the window at the darkened grounds. “What do you want to do about it?”

Tommy leaned back in his chair to rub at his eyes. He looked exhausted, dark circles swelling beneath his blue irises. “Nothing right now.”

She frowned. “Nothing? She’s talking about divorce, Tommy.”

“Yeah. If I don’t change.” His hand dropped to fold with the other in his lap, thumbs twiddling. “I don’t think that I can, Lucy,” his voice was quiet. She drew in closer to him, his distress serving like a beacon that summoned her to climb into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his forehead. 

“You shouldn’t have to just to make her happy.” If she really loved him, she’d have loved him as he was, rather than demanding he change everything about himself just to please her. It baffled her that Lizzie couldn’t understand that.

Tommy dropped his face to rest against her collarbone, thumb circling around her hip bone after his hands came to rest on her waist.

“So what do we do?” she asked, nose pressing into his soft hair. “Let her leave? I’m not saying that I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but it’ll kick up all sorts of other problems…”

“I know,” he sighed, the puff of breath warm on her skin. “I’ll talk to her first. See if I can think of something to at least indulge her for a little while.”

“She acts like she’s living some horrible, deprived life.” She looked around at the enormous, ornate room they were seated in. Lined with bookshelves and expensive furniture with custom-made paintings hanging on the walls. “Outside of your love, it’s not like she wants for anything here.” 

“Every time that I think she’s getting better, that she’s starting to accept…things, she slides back to where she was before.” He leaned closer into her. “I don’t know what more to do for her. I’m not sending you away, and I can’t pretend to feel about her in a way that I don’t.”

“Mm. She’d probably know you’re pretending and just get more angry about it, anyway.” Lucy started to stroke his hair. Her gaze drew back to the letter still laid out on the table, eyeing in warily. “I am surprised that she didn’t try to demand that you get rid of me.” It had been a notable omission in the letter, considering she knew that it was a spot of deep contention for Lizzie. Maybe, just maybe, that was a sign of some miniscule of progress. 

“She knows that’s not an argument she’s going to win.”

Lucy leaned back just enough to be able to cup one of his cheeks, smiling a little in spite of herself at his eternal protectiveness over her. “Is it terrible that knowing that makes me happy?”

He shook his head, arms tightening around her. “She flat out refused to apologize for what she said about you, did you know that?”

“I figured as much.” She thought back to her latest chess game with Lizzie; how Lizzie had notably apologized for Charlie overhearing, but not for what she’d actually said. 

“You’re not terrible,” he asserted firmly, leaning in to kiss her. “Not even a little.”

“Well…” she smiled against his lips. “I have killed quite a lot of people.” She giggled between kisses at the approving purr that came from his chest. 

“And your point is…?”

She laughed at his unbothered tone, kissing him back more firmly, humming when one of his big hands found its way into her hair. 

“Let’s not worry about her anymore right now,” Tommy whispered, tugging her closer.

A pang of remorse crackled through her at how easy it was for both of them to put Lizzie out of their minds. But then Tommy’s tongue slid into her mouth, and she became guilty of the very thing she’d moments ago been feeling ashamed of. 

“It’s late,” he murmured, arms squeezing around her. “Let’s go to bed.” 

She nodded in agreement, kissing him once more before climbing from his lap, biting back a grin at the way he chased her with his lips, a small whine leaving his throat. Taking hold of his hand, she pulled him up out of his chair, starting to lead the way around his desk and to the door. 

“Wait,” he came to a stop. She watched as he gathered up the pages of Lizzie’s letter. His hand was still clutched firmly in hers, meaning that she was pulled along with him when he went to the fireplace. Kneeling, Tommy started to feed the first page of the letter into the cheerily crackling flames, watching it catch and start to blacken and curl at the edges before tossing it the rest of the way into the inferno. He divided the pages evenly between the two of them, and together they fed page after page of Lizzie’s letter into the fire, watching as the messy scrawl and resentful black words were swallowed up and eradicated completely. 

“Feeling better?” Lucy asked, leaning her head against Tommy's shoulder, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. 

“Yeah,” he kissed her hair, then doused the fire. Taking her hand again, he stood. “Come on.”

They made it back to her room in record time, Tommy practically pouncing on her as soon as the door was shut. Lucy giggled as his mouth crashed down onto hers, cupping both sides of his face while his hands ran all over her. The warmth of his palms burned through her clothes, grabbing at the swell of her hips, then making their way up to squeeze her clothed breasts. Her thighs pressed together as an ache began to build between them. Movements quick, if a little fumbling, she set to work at getting him out of his clothes.  

His chest rumbled under her palms once she’d pushed his button-down off of his shoulders and slid the undershirt over his head, smoothing her hands across his naked skin. He’d been hard at work getting her own clothing unfastened, and it did not take long for her to be entirely bare before him. Arms going around his neck, she let out a rasped moan into their kiss as he palmed one of her breasts with one hand, thumb running over her hardened nipple. 

“Tommy…”

“I know. I know. Come here.”

She hadn’t thought it possible for them to get any closer, and yet somehow he managed, hand on the center of her back pressing her tighter against him, and then he began to walk them with somewhat staggering steps in the general direction of the bed. 

He groaned lowly when her hands slipped lower to cup the growing bulge in his trousers, giving him a soft squeeze that had him bucking into her hand. The backs of her legs knocked against the mattress, and then he was laying her down gently onto it, catching himself with his hands planted on either side of her head as he lowered himself on top of her. 

The groan he released into her mouth as she hitched her legs up around his waist was delicious. She could feel his bulge pressing into her belly, his mouth moving more insistently on hers while his hands roamed her body. A whine left her lips when he pinched one of her nipples, legs tightening around him. He groaned again against her mouth, migrating from her lips to her neck, and she suddenly found herself very annoyed that he was still wearing his trousers.

As he moved to lavish her breasts with his mouth, she ran her fingers calculatingly down his strong back, feeling the shift and flex of his muscles as he moved over her. He was exquisite. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Hands moving lower, she circled her fingers around his belt loops and pulled him closer, giving an impatient yank to his belt buckle for good measure. 

Tommy chuckled, tongue encircling one of her nipples before drawing it into his mouth. She jumped when his hand found its way between her thighs, testing her wetness with two fingers. 

“Impatient,” he tutted at her whimpering and pushing her hips closer to his hand, trying to get his fingers to go deeper inside her. 

“Tease,” she shot back, glaring playfully up at him. The wolfish grin splitting his face only grew, eyes dancing deviously with it. His thumb rolled across her clit, and she made a rather undignified sound, back arching. “Tommy, please.”

“Mm, but what if I want to keep you like this?” he cocked his head in mock contemplation, long lashes fluttering innocently against his cheekbones. “Keep you squirming and begging for me…” he grazed his lips across her cheek and curled his fingers inside her, just brushing up against the spot that had her head tipping back with a soft sigh. “That’s it…” his lips ghosted over her cheek as he leaned in closer, drawing his fingers out, slowly trailing them up and down her folds. Then slowly sinking them back in. At her moan and back arching, he pressed his body closer to hers. “That’s it.”

“You could at least take your trousers off,” she pouted, reaching around to give his clothed ass a squeeze. Her gaze went to the sizable bulge still pressing into her thigh. “Aren’t you uncomfortable?” 

His hips shifted a little, no doubt feeling the tightness of the fabric constraining around his bulging cock. Sneaking her hand between them, Lucy cupped him in her palm, feeling the weight and pulse of his flesh even through the thick material of his clothes. A low grunt left Tommy’s lips, erection pushing into her hand. 

Lucy grinned, but her triumph was short-lived. His fingers retracted from her cunt, both hands seizing hers, pinning them to the mattress by her head.

“Behave,” he growled, with no real weight or threat behind the word. Lucy smirked up at him, turning her hands to instead thread their fingers together, angling her head up to kiss him. 

“No.” Soon as he was distracted by the press of their lips together, she squeezed at his hands, tightened her legs around his waist, and gave a strong twist to her hips. Rolling them so that he was the one with his back to the mattress. “I don’t think that I will,”  she whispered against his mouth, taking his face in both of her hands. 

Tommy’s eyes widened, surprise quickly melting away into delight. She felt where their chests were pressed together as his breath caught, hands going to her waist and lips curling upwards. Showing no complaint at her sudden seizing of the reins, he merely drew her closer, encouraging her to grind down onto him. 

She indulged him for a moment before becoming impatient again, rising off to pull free his belt and push his trousers and shorts off. Tommy obediently lifted his hips to help her, and it wasn’t lost on her how he let out a soft sigh of relief as his cock was freed from the straining material to bob against his stomach. Red and throbbing.   

Wrapping her palm loosely around him, thumb teasing at the weeping tip, she maneuvered herself to kneel between his legs. Tommy propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she eyed her prize where it pulsed in her hand. 

Fixing her gaze squarely on his, she leaned forward, and licked a stripe across the tip. With a groan, Tommy tipped his head back, eyes fluttering closed as she gave just the tip of him a few sucks. His mouth dropped open when she started to take in more of him, breathing deeply through her nose to help relax her throat. 

His groans only encouraged her to keep going as she set to work. Even when he hit the back of her throat and she almost gagged. One of his hands weaved through her hair, resting gently on the back of her head and helping guide her bobs on his cock. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted, erection twitching heavily on her tongue. “Don’t stop. Just like that. Ohhhhh…” a drawn out, delicious sound left his lips at her movements. 

It did not take long for her to start to feel the tension mounting in his thighs, his noises growing louder and more guttural as he neared his peak. Bracing her hands on his thighs, she gave him one last long, hard suck, and then pulled off completely. Tommy made a sharp whining sound, head raising slightly to peer down at her with lust-drunk eyes. Lucy smiled, climbing onto the bed to straddle him again, taking his cock back into her hand. 

Sitting up, he looped an arm around her shoulders, their faces so close that their noses brushed. Tommy’s mouth was open, eyes blown wide. Lucy felt something in her stir at the sight of him so needy. 

“Tell me you want me,” she requested, leaning into him, eyes fluttering when one of his hands flattened out at the center of her back, holding her close. His huge erection twitched in her palm.  

“I want you,” Tommy groaned, her hand tightening around his cock at the same time that he spoke. “I always want you.”  He traced the shape of her bottom lip with his thumb and she closed her eyes, turning her head to kiss his fingertips. Their foreheads came to rest against each other, and she started to guide him inside of her. 

Eyes closing at the stretch of taking him, she gripped at his shoulders, Tommy pressing kisses to her collarbone and thumbs drawing circles into her skin while she got adjusted. Lucy buried her face in his neck. He smelled like a smoky campfire in the middle of the woods at night, warm and welcoming with an edge of danger and melancholy.  

Locking her fingers in his hair, she gently tipped his head back, angling her face down to kiss him softly, and starting to move. Tommy groaned, gripping onto her thigh, fingers pressing into her skin tight enough to probably leave bruises. His eyes gazed into hers, fluttering when she traced over the sharp lines of his jaw.

There was nowhere in the world where she felt safer than in the circle of his arms. There was always such a gentleness to the way that he handled her. A tenderness. Like the mere thought of hurting her was too much for him to bear. 

She had never felt so loved. So cherished. So wanted. Whenever her insecurities started to get the better of her, all it took was this. The joining of their bodies. Their very beings molding together. His hands on her and his eyes looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the entire world. Hips moving in time with hers, slow and deep as they worked together to bring them both to the peak of pleasure. Making love in such a way that it was impossible for her to doubt the existence of his feelings for her. 

“Tommy,” she croaked out, hips still rolling into his, every bounce on his cock sending her nerve endings alight. His arms flexed, helping to support her weight. Their mouths were both open, moaning into the dark air of the bedroom, the bed frame starting to creak under their bodies. Lucy’s walls fluttered and tightened, the familiar warmth of an approaching orgasm building in her lower belly, clit twitching. 

He brushed some hair that had fallen forward out of her face, cupping her cheek gently. A guttural groan left his chest when she took a moment to pause between thrusts just to grind on his cock, her eyes rolling at the pressure that doing so put on her clit. At this angle, his thick tip was pressing into her most sensitive spot. Taking hold of one of his hands, she guided it down until his fingers were at her clit, his digits immediately starting to rub in tight little circles. 

Lucy’s breath stuttered in her lungs, back arching to press her breasts even more firmly against his chest. He growled lowly, thrusting his hips up more sharply into her, pressing down hard onto her clit. She cried out, the band inside her snapping, firelight exploding behind her eyes as she came. 

Tommy caught her in his arms as her muscles gave way, clutching her close with a hand still on her back and the other cupping the back of her head. His hips continued to buck up into her, drawing out her orgasm while he approached his own. Lucy burrowed against him, letting him guide her through her high, gasping softly at the sensation of his cock swelling larger within her. 

Grazing her teeth across his freckled shoulder, she felt more than heard Tommy moan, and then he was leaning back, staring into her face, nuzzling their noses together. He kissed her hard, pumping in one last time, gasping her name out into her mouth as she felt his cock pulse and start to release a heavy load inside of her. 

Cupping his cheeks, she watched his face when he came, grunting softly with pleasure, eyelashes fluttering while he gazed at her. She gave an experimental little bounce on his still emptying cock, earning herself a louder, deeper moan from him. Eyes slipping closed, his hands grabbed at her hips to keep her still.

“Too sensitive,” he mumbled, starting to pepper kisses along her shoulder. Lucy hummed, immediately ceasing all movements to instead just snuggle him. Her arms wound around his neck, stroking his hair, lips finding his cheek.

Slowly, he reclined them both back onto the pillows. Lucy gingerly slipped off of his softening cock, and Tommy drew her in close to his chest, his fingertips starting to trace along her back. The skin was a mess of scars. Yet another gift Luca had given her during the three days she’d spent bound in the basement of a church with him. The cat o’ nine tails he’d whipped her with had done its job well, the pale skin twisted and marred.

She hated looking at it. Hated even thinking about it most of the time. All it did was remind her of those tortuous days. Not to mention made her feel so repulsed at her own reflection she could barely look in the mirror without gagging. 

And yet Tommy’s gentle, adoring touch on them helped soothe some of the disgust she felt towards herself. Despite her best attempts to hide them from him, he’d seen all the scars that covered her body more times that she could count. Never once had he indicated even the slightest revulsion towards them. Under his gaze and hands, she almost was able to feel beautiful.  

“You okay?” His voice interrupted her thoughts, and she wondered if he had been able to sense her getting lost in her own head again.

“Yeah,” she said, getting more comfortable on his chest. Tilting her head up, she looked into his blue eyes, seeming to practically glow in the otherwise darkness of the room. With the passion of desire clearing from her head, thoughts about the future—and their current roster of problems—were making themselves known again. “Tommy, what are we going to do?”

“About Lizzie?”

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I can’t give her what she wants, and I don’t know what else to do to make her happy.”

“Me neither.” Their voices were quiet despite it only being them in the room.

“Maybe if I sit her down and try to explain a couple things to her…” Tommy suggested. 

“What kinds of things?”

“Just…how things are in my head.”

Lucy pushed herself up slightly on her arms to get a better look at him. “You’ve tried to let her in on multiple occasions. She always either ignores you or changes the subject.” It drove Lucy absolutely batty, to have to listen to Lizzie whine and cry about how Tommy ‘never let her in’ when she herself had seen him on multiple occasions try to open up to Lizzie, only for Lizzie to show no interest in what he was actually attempting to communicate to her. It was no wonder that over time he’d more or less given up any attempts at emotionally connecting with her. 

“Yeah,” his chest went up and down with his sigh. Lucy stroked his skin in sympathy, wishing terribly that there was something–anything–that she could do to make it better. 

“I’m sorry.”

His head angled down to look at her, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. The arm around her tightened, bringing her closer so he could kiss her forehead. “You make it all easier, you know.” His lips moved against her skin as he spoke before drawing back to look into her eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She felt herself flush, looking bashfully down, busying herself with trailing a hand through his chest hair. “You’d survive.”

“No,” his voice was deadly serious, Her gaze snapped back up to his, eyes wide. “I don’t think that I would.”

Her brows drew in, lips parting, head cocking a little to the side. She reached for him, both hands resting on his cheeks. He leaned into her touch, eyes sliding closed, a hand covering one of hers. “Tommy…”

“It’s alright,” he kissed the center of her palm. 

“I couldn’t survive without you either.”

He gave her a look of deep understanding, kissing her softly on the lips. “C’mere.”

She let him pull her back into snuggling against him, closing her eyes with a soft sigh at how warm and comfy he was. 

There was a sudden change in the weight on the bed, as a tiny little figure hopped up onto the mattress, searching for a warm place to join in the cuddle pile. 

At the sudden, unexpected arrival of the cat, Tommy yelped in a way so unbecoming of one of England’s most feared gangsters that it sent Lucy into a fit of giggles. Trouble meowed, tail flicking back and forth, little paws picking carefully over the comforter towards them. Lucy kept on laughing, pressing a hand to her mouth to try to stifle it as Tommy scrambled to pull the blankets up around them.

“It’s just Trouble, love,” she snickered. 

“Where the hell did she come from!?” 

“She must’ve been hiding under the bed or something.”

He stared at her with wide, horrified eyes. “Do you think she was watching us?”

“Probably.” She raised an eyebrow when Tommy seemed to shrink a little into the pillows. Trouble padded over to her, purring when Lucy started to give her scratches under the chin. “You’re fine with other women watching us fuck, but the cat is where you draw the line?”

He just harrumphed in exasperation, raising a hand to rub down his face.  Lucy rolled her eyes fondly, giving him a kiss in the center of his chest before turning her attention back to their cat.

“Hey, sweetie,” she cooed when Trouble rubbed her head against her palm. She then settled herself against Tommy’s side opposite where Lucy was laying, curling into a tight ball against him with a purr. 

Like mother, like daughter, Lucy thought with a small smile as Tommy dropped his hand to pet Trouble’s back. She let her head rest back onto his chest, stroking over his ribs. 

“She better mind the claws this time,” Tommy muttered, but made no move to push Trouble away. Lucy bit her lip to try to stifle a grin at the memory of Trouble climbing over his bare chest one night to get close to her. She’d woken up to him yelping in complaint of the scratches the cat had left in his chest, Trouble meowing back at him defiantly when he tried to scold her. 

Tommy’s fingertip found the underside of her chin, tilting her head up. 

“Oh, you find this amusing, do you?”

“Mhm.” She pressed her still smiling lips together.

He snorted, shaking his head, unable to fully keep the amusement out of his eyes. “The fucking cheek I get in this house, I swear…”

Laughing, she stretched up to kiss him once more. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Polly was already at the Garrison when Lucy arrived with Tommy and Arthur. Pacing from side to side like an irritable cat, black cigarette clutched between her fingers, she eyed them warily upon their arrival and subsequent movements to go stand by the bar. 

“You armed?” she asked them. At all three of their answers to the affirmative, Polly pursed her lips. Lucy raised an eyebrow at her request that they put their weapons behind the bar in case tempers flared. While Arthur irritably dumped the bullets in his gun out and then tossed the empty weapon onto the table, Lucy looked to Tommy for instruction, ready to follow his lead on whether or not he acquiesced to Polly’s request. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached into his suit jacket and removed his gun from its holster, turning and setting it on the bar behind him. Lucy mimicked his movements, hoisting herself up on her arms to perch on the edge of the bar next to Tommy, reaching behind her to lay her gun down next to his.

She busied herself fishing a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it while Tommy talked to Polly about the dream he’d had of a black cat. Which, according to Polly’s teachings, meant that there was a traitor close by. Polly’s face remained immovable the entire time. She had told them Michael was telling the truth when he said he didn’t betray them, but they would never be able to fully trust Polly when it came to Michael. She might lie to protect him. Or her motherly love for him could cloud her judgment. 

Lucy was living proof that Polly’s perceptions of people weren’t always entirely correct, after all. 

There was the sound of a car approaching outside, and Polly went to the front door to greet her son and his new wife. Tommy’s hand landed on Lucy’s thigh, smoothing up and down, warm even through the thick fabric of her trousers. She scooted a tad closer to him, until her thigh just barely brushed against his shoulder when he was leaning against the bar, sensing that he was in need of the closeness. 

Polly came back in with Michael and Gina right behind her. Lucy took them both in with a careful, analytical eye. 

They looked well. Michael had his hair slicked back, a fine beige coat draped over his suit. His face was the same as it had been the day he left for America, but his eyes were different. Colder. Harder. More guarded. 

His wife, Gina Gray–formally Nelson, Lucy’s hasty research on her had revealed– stood beside him in her expensive furs. Blonde curls were styled carefully around her face, lips pressed in an eternally smug expression. 

Lucy hated her from almost the first moment she laid eyes on her. 

Snobbishness seemed to ooze from her, looking at them as if they were scum on the bottom of her shoe. A smirk danced across her lips, eyeing Tommy up before turning her gaze to Lucy. Her eyebrow raised as she zeroed in on the closeness of Lucy’s thigh to Tommy’s shoulder. Lucy stared back at her challengingly, half daring her to say something. Gina’s eyes met hers unflinchingly. Lucy cocked her head. 

Little girl wants to come play with the gangsters, now does she?

Gina finally broke the silent stare-down, looking back at Tommy. Lucy kept her gaze focused on her for a moment longer, then returned to assessing Michael, who had started talking almost as soon as he and Gina had entered. Lucy wondered if he thought that if he could get a head start on the conversation, then he could control where it went. 

When Tommy ordered Michael to sit down, he ignored him. Lucy’s eyes narrowed to slits at the blatant disrespect.

The boy had forgotten his place.

He should have come in there crawling on his hands and knees, begging them for forgiveness. Already he was extremely lucky to not have been greeted with a razor to his throat upon his arrival in England. 

Instead, he stood there, and told them all about how he had come so close to betraying them, but oh, no, they should be grateful. They should be proud. Because his precious, smug little wife had stopped him. Even though he said it himself that he had already betrayed them in his heart. 

Did he really not understand how significant that already was?

Did the idiot really not see how with every word, with every second that he continued to ignore Tommy’s order that he sit his ass down, he was only digging his own grave deeper?

“I told you to sit down, Michael,” Tommy finally interrupted. It wasn’t quite a snarl, but it was close. He’d clearly taken note of the blatant dismissal of his authority just as she had. 

Michael went quiet. Then reached over to pull out the nearest chair to him at the table Polly had sat down at. But before he sank into it, he looked up at Tommy, and for a brief, sliver of a second, Lucy saw a look flash in his eyes of such ice-cold contempt, it could have given her frostbite.

It was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, but she knew that she hadn’t imagined it. She had felt the chill, the instinctive break-out of gooseflesh across her arms. The prickling at the back of her neck. 

Danger was close by. Right in front of them. 

There was an enemy in the room with them. Her gaze flickered briefly to Gina once more. Maybe even more than one. 

The chair creaked, barely audibly, as Michael finally lowered himself into it. Gina leaned against the pillar beside him. 

Tommy spoke slowly, each word carefully plucked, commanding Michael to tell him what happened on the ship in Belfast. 

Lucy’s eyes narrowed as they listened to Michael’s story of how the Billy Boys had boarded the ship he and Gina had been on. They’d been offering a deal, Michael said, to help destroy Tommy. But then the IRA had interrupted them. He failed to elaborate on what happened with the Billy Boys and the IRA before Captain Swing took him captive. 

When Polly tried to prompt Michael into actually saying that he did not deal with the Billy Boys, he gave her no straight answer. Instead he deflected with a weak smile, reaching for Gina’s hand, and announcing that he and Gina had gotten married because Gina was pregnant. 

The whole room filled with stony silence, everyone looking expectantly to Tommy for his verdict.

Slowly, he nodded. “Okay, Michael. I believe you. Welcome home. Congratulations. Just remember…your unborn child has witnessed what you said…”

“Thomas!” Polly exclaimed, horrified.

“And it will be born accordingly.” 

Michael just about launched himself out of his chair was a furious roar, impeded only by Arthur calmly stepping between him and his brother. Polly jumped from her seat. Tommy just blinked calmly, not moving. 

Lucy burst into hysterical, mad-sounding cackles. 

Even as Michael spat vitriol at Tommy from over Arthur’s shoulder, Tommy hardly even batted an eye, merely raising an eyebrow at his cousin. Lucy's unhinged cackles began to subside into quiet giggles. From behind Michael, she saw both Polly and Gina shoot her disturbed, puzzled looked. She just grinned, swaying back and forth delightedly, raising her cigarette to her lips. 

She failed to see what all the fuss was about. If Michael was telling the truth, then he ought to have nothing to worry about.  

The instructions that Tommy gave Michael regarding what he was to do next seemed only fair. He’d lost their company a lot of money. And yet Michael’s look of fury didn’t fade. Entitled cunt. Did he really think that they wouldn’t make him pay them back what he owed them? 

It was Gina who ended up drawing her husband away. Crooning in her harsh American accent, the smug expression that had wavered only briefly at Tommy’s threat back firmly in place. Polly stormed out the door after them, expression hardened when she looked at Tommy before leaving. Arthur locked the door behind them. 

Tommy grabbed his gun from behind the bar, passing Lucy hers so she could tuck it away into her suit jacket. The three of them gathered around the table in the center of the empty pub to debrief, Arthur meticulously sliding the bullets back into the chamber of his revolver while Tommy poured some whiskey. 

“What do we think?” Arthur asked. 

“If anything I’m more suspicious of him than I was when he came in,” Lucy took the glass Tommy offered her. “I don’t like how he deflected with Gina’s pregnancy there at the end.”

“Yeah. He never did answer Polly’s question, did he?” Arthur snorted, shaking his head, gaze going to his younger brother. “Tom?”

“So we’re all in agreement,” Tommy said slowly. “We don’t trust him.”

“So what do we do next?” Arthur asked, fingers pausing where he’d been about to slide the final bullet home in its chamber. 

Tommy cleared his throat, pursing his lips together. His eyes met Lucy’s, and she sighed. 

“Just suspicious words aren’t going to be enough to convince Polly,” she concluded.

“We keep him on a tight leash, for now.”

They all unanimously agreed. Michael would hate every second of it, but they needed to be sure. 

Lucy thought back to the landmines she and Tommy had dug out of the garden, little specks of dirt still wedged in deep under her nails, and shivered.

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[qwimblenorrisstan]

Surprise Pt. 2 | Soap x Reader

Summary: The boys are slowly settling into your apartment, looking for the terrorist group they’re hunting down, while memories begin resurfacing for Simon.

Word Count: ~ 3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of death, toxic relationship, toxic family, abusive dad, panic attack/ptsd episodes, guns, violence, prob terribly inaccurate to anything military (I’m trying my hardest ok😭)

A/N: this part is mainly for worldbuilding, I’m alr working on part 3 but felt like y’all might want a little update, lmk what you want to see, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

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It was safe to say that Ghost and Price had a long conversation that night.

“How much does she know?”

The captain had asked, hat hanging over his head before he picked it off between two fingers, setting it on the bedside table in a guest room. The two available rooms were split with Gaz and Price in one, and Ghost and Soap in the other.

Simon thought for a solid moment. He hadn’t told you anything, other than he was going to the military. He’d stayed over at your place maybe once before, years earlier, and all he’d told you was that he had a mission, an important one, something he couldn’t tell you about. To keep you safe.

It wasn’t a lie. At first, you’d been angry that he wouldn’t tell you, but something must’ve clicked at 15 because that was when you stopped questioning it altogether. Then again, at that point, he’d rarely texted you or called you at all. It had been years since physical words were exchanged at this point.

He felt bad about it, but with the last words exchanged between the two of you…it made regret and grief flare up in him all over again.

~

You were pacing. Back and forth, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you burnt a trail in the carpet with how frenzied you looked. Shock, grief, anger, and pure disbelief mixed all into one, your body language reflecting as much.

He hadn’t even taken his mask off yet, leaning against the wall behind him in the home his mother had grown up in. The home he’d grown up in. A home you’d visited before, only because of the court-deemed custody that your father somehow got.

“You didn’t come to the funeral.”

His harsh voice finally rang out, and your pacing stopped. You turned to look at him, defensiveness automatically rendering itself in your expression. Always so easy to read. If only you were like that now.

“I couldn’t make it in time. You know that, Simon.”

You said, and his temper flared. Every single lesson he’d had drilled into him in his military-deemed anger management classes went out of the window at that. At how you defended yourself, even when he knew you could’ve made it on time for that funeral. Or at least he thought you could’ve.

“Really? Or did you know about this, huh?”

He accused, anger building in his tone as he pushed off the wall, stalking closer to you, now pacing in his own slower, more predatory manner. Your eyes widened at his accusation.

“You think I was plotting to kill your mum? The fuck is wrong with you?”

Simon knew it was outrageous, there was no way in hell you would’ve done it. Not when you’d known her, even if only for a little bit. But Ghost….Ghost had been betrayed too many times. He was desperate for any answer, any way to get rid of you so he didn’t have to deal with any reminder of his mother, or Tommy, or his little nephew that had been so painfully young.

Maybe you didn’t understand, but if he made himself believe this…then you wouldn’t be around him anymore, and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone killing you like they had everyone else around him.

“What about Tommy? Or Joseph? Didn’t make it to theirs either, did you.”

“Simon, I came as soon as I could, you know that. I was in that camp for a month, there was nothing I could-“

“That’s convenient, isn’t it.”

He said drily, stalking closer, hand moving to the hilt of his gun. You didn’t notice, probably because you had no military training or anything of the sort. If he wanted to kill you right now, make you disappear, he could. Easily, too. He could already think of how he’d do it, the silencer on his gun covering the sound as he would shoot you, once in the head, twice in the heart, then he would take you down into the sewers, and you’d disappear-

“You’re fucking crazy.”

Your voice, slightly scared now, and your body language showing just how intimidated and panicked you were, was wobbly at best. Tears welled in your eyes as you opened the door to leave out of the front, your car, a black jeep you weren’t old enough to drive yet, but did anyway thanks to the fake ID you’d made, parked in the rocky driveway.

He snatched your arm up, yanking you back into the room as he pressed you against the wall he’d previously been leaning on. He leaned close, breath coming through the fabric of his baklava and speaking softly, like the old Simon would, to you in your ear.

“I wouldn’t blame you, you know.” He began.

“He was your dad, he was all you had, wasn’t he? Maybe you were jealous, or angry about what happened to him. What I did to him.”

He almost whispered to you, as if it was some forbidden knowledge. Your small body was stiff against the wall, unconsciously leaning away from him. You were terrified. He could feel it.

“You’re insane. Completely fuckin’ insane.”

You said, trying to squirm away, and he let you gain an inch of room, only to force you another inch against the wall. One more and your breathing would be strained if you could breathe at that.

“I’ll let you off, but if I find out you had anything to do with this, with her…”

He didn’t get to finish the rest before you struggled free, and you made it to your car quicker than ever before, and drove off, not caring about any speed limits or anything.

~

“Simon? You here?”

Price’s voice snapped him out of whatever trance he’d been in, and he gave a little grunt in response. Shaking himself out of it, he tried to remember what the captain’s question had been. Something about what you knew.

“The bare minimum.”

“Good. She seems like a good kid, keep her outta this.”

Simon didn’t mention the fact that you had already faced minor charges multiple times, some for breaking and entering or assault and battery, most of which were dismissed by a judge he suspected was paid off. Or the fact that you’d used a fake ID for your car for multiple years. He would know, considering he’d asked Gaz to find you multiple times. You weren’t an easy one to find, almost as if you’d tried to wipe yourself off the grid before turning back on it.

You weren’t a good kid by any means, but by your age, he’d probably been killing people already, so he supposed there were worse things to be doing.

“Roger that.”

Price gave a small nod of confirmation, clapping him on the shoulder as he went to walk to the room that he was sharing with Gaz.

“Get some rest, Simon. We’ll get directions from Laswell tomorrow. Don’t stress over it.”

Despite himself, Simon gave a little nod.

If only he was stressing over things as simple as terrorists and covert warfare.

~

Soap, surprisingly enough, woke up first. It was around 5:30 AM when he did, and Simon was still fast asleep on the bed beside him.

“Scuse me, Lt.”

He mumbled while sliding out of the bed, and walking to where he thought the kitchen probably was, and after wandering around, he found one small dim light on in the general kitchen area. You were standing in the kitchen, wrapping some sort of spandex-looking bandage material around your left knee. The type to help support it, in the case of an injury.

You were wearing a pair of blank shorts that didn’t go nearly far enough down your thighs, and what looked like an old jersey, with a faded number ‘14’ on it. Your right knee had a knee pad on, your left knee pad laying on the table. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was braided.

You both just stared at each other for a minute, before he grinned and obnoxiously whistled.

“Lookin’ good, lass. Where ya headed?”

He asked, already watching the gears turn in your head as you tried to decode his thick accent. Surprisingly, it didn’t take you nearly as long as he thought it would. Usually, new people had to take a few seconds, but you responded almost immediately.

“Practice.”

You replied bluntly, either not a morning person, or just not a talker. By the blank look on your face, he was just assuming you were also a heartless bastard like Ghost. But even Simon Riley had his tells, and he was sure you did too.

“What the hell’ve they got you practicing for at 5 in the mornin’?” He asked, and you looked at him for a moment, as if trying to see if what he’d said was a joke. As if he was stupid. He was not stupid.

“Volleyball. I’m on the team. Got a scholarship.”

His brows raised at that. Another blunt answer. You really were Simon’s sister, weren’t you? And to get a scholarship in volleyball…he hadn’t even known you’d gone to a private school, let alone the fact that you played sports.

I mean, sure, he’d sort of assumed you might based on your muscular thighs and arms he was entranced by, or the sheer unmoving look you always had, barely changing. Volleyball girls always had nice asses though, and you weren’t an exception, that was for sure.

You were either telepathic or had seen him staring because, with a simple snap of your fingers, he had flinched out of his daze.

“Eyes up here, MacTavish.”

You said in a mildly annoyed tone, and he gave you a slightly pouty look.

“Can’t blame me for looking at it when it’s right there, now can you?”

You had only given him another annoyed glance, before slinging a bag over your shoulder and walking out. He didn’t fail to notice the way you checked the peephole before walking out. Or how your eyes darted to the windows consistently, or the nearest available exit.

He didn’t blame you, living alone as a girl in this end of town, you had to be cautious.

~

They had been at this all day.

Laswell had radioed them in earlier, probably around noon after they’d raided your pantry, which only really had bread in various forms in it. Your fridge wasn’t much better, only cheap lunch meats, lettuce, tomatoes, and a few miscellaneous vegetables and fruits.

Since then, they’d been on the hunt for any suspicious characters, any sign of the terrorist group that had gotten away. It had taken a bit of travel, but a few miles out, they’d passed a van, white, with four burly shadowy figures in the darkened windows. Windows too dark to even be legal.

“Armed men, four of ‘em, cap.”

Soap had said, and Price had only given a nod, taking a U-turn to trail the vehicle. It wasn’t every day you would see any military men driving in a white van with tinted windows.

It had only escalated from there.

The van had stopped near an old alleyway with no people around, failing to notice T141, who were now all trailing on foot. They’d left the car behind with Gaz, despite his protests. They needed someone able to drive, and Soap was needed to disable any possible bombs. They were dealing with terrorists here.

Slowly crawling up the building to the right of the alleyway, Ghost let his gun peek down into it through some crumbling brick on the sides of the roof’s edge.

“We droppin’ em’?”

He asked quietly over the radio, and Price, on the building roof opposite of him, replied.

“Not yet. If we can get one alive, we’ll want ‘im for interrogation. Three of ‘em on my count.”

Soap, to the left of Ghost, nodded mainly to himself, his gun focusing on the man closest to a trash can, Price on the man to the right of him, and Ghost to the man leading the other two. The fourth was lingering behind a bit, examining the surroundings. Paranoid.

“Gaz, start bringing in our exfil.”

“Got it, Captain.”

“On your mark, Sergeant.”

With that, the first relatively silent shot went off, and two more followed until all that was left was the one man, who immediately took cover and jumped through the open window of the nearly abandoned building Price was on the roof of.

“Shit. Get him.”

Price’s voice cursed over the radio, and Gaz driving the car came into view only moments later, as Ghost and Soap hopped down from the roof of the building, taking the same route as the escaped terrorist through the building, and clearing it one floor at a time.

Hours later, it felt like they’d searched the whole damn city and come up with absolutely nothing. Whoever they’d missed had disappeared completely, and possibly contacted outside forces of their presence. They had to be careful with this.

“We headin’ back?” Soap asked, and Price replied.

“Affirmative. I’ll let Laswell know what happened.”

And so they headed back to the apartment, only to find you completely not there. Gaz got there first, gun still in hand as he cleared the apartment. Just in case.

“Clear.” He radioed over,

The rest of the boys filed in after that, taking the time to take showers, in the hope that you wouldn’t notice their bloodstained clothes. It was only after they had all changed into casual clothes that Soap remembered about you.

“Anyone know where the girl is?”

Gaz seemed to stir at that, immediately on his feet, when Ghost pushed him back down into the chair he was sitting in at the dinner table.

“She’s at school, lads.” His rough voice spoke, and Gaz and Soap both made an “ohhhh” sound at the answer. It was obvious, but they hadn’t gone to school in…a long time, and you were almost an adult now, so they tended to forget about that.

“Where does she go?” Price asked, taking a sip of his cup of water. Ghost shrugged.

“Some private school, said she got a scholarship for volleyball or somethin’,” Soap added, and Ghost shot a tiny glare at him. The fact that a random Scottish man knew more about you than Simon Riley, your technical brother, wasn’t making him too happy. Soap only gave him a cheeky grin in return.

“You seem to know an awful lot about her, Soap.”

Kyle then spoke up, carefully eying Simon and Johnnie. Even as Simon huffed out of his nose, taking a sip of water. His lips were chapped, Gaz noticed. Soap gave a little shrug, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Just curious about ‘er is all. We are living in her house, after all.” He answered, and Price stood up, mumbling something about a smoke break while walking across the kitchen to reach the balcony, where he smoked. The first time he’d tried to smoke inside, you’d grabbed it straight from his fingers, and thrown it into the sink before running cold water over it.

It took him a minute to realize that had only been yesterday night.

The week went by quickly, and the boys slowly got used to your schedule. More like they just started fitting into the routine you had, really. Having four random military men inside of your house wasn’t easy, especially when they kept leaving the toilet seat up in the bathroom in the hallway.

“Couldn’t just put the seat down, could they..”

You mumbled to yourself late into the night, slamming the seat down as hard as you could without breaking it. Every time they left it up, you made sure to put it down hard, making enough noise to wake them up. Distantly, you could’ve sworn you heard Johnny’s laughter from the room he was in with Simon, before a low “Shut it.” and a “Roger that, Lt.” was faintly audible.

You had practice almost every night, even some on weekends, which made sense considering you were the team captain for the junior varsity of your school. Once you became a Senior next year, you’d probably get team captain of the full varsity team. A big responsibility, but one you seemed to enjoy, even when some days you would come home, lock yourself in your room, and fall straight asleep without eating anything.

Where they went every day, you never asked. Didn’t want to.

One night, Price walked into the kitchen, where you kept a washer and dryer for the clothes as well, tucked into the room where it wasn’t easily noticed, and saw you pouring hydrogen peroxide on some bloodstains in their clothes. It was strong, stronger than anything you could legally get from a pharmacy, he could tell that much.

Your eyes both met, and you didn’t waver from his stare, and he didn’t from yours.

“You aren’t going to ask questions?” He asked, voice a deep rumble. Your eyes shifted away at that, back to the clothes. As if hiding whatever gleamed within them, the knowledge you had, or what you’d seen. What you knew they did every day.

“Better for all of us if I don’t.”

You’d replied simply, voice still relatively neutral, the barest amount of a British accent lingering even when you’d spent so many years in America. You almost mumbled it, as if used to speaking quietly. Based on the small fragments he knew of Simon’s past, and his father, one that you both shared, he wasn’t surprised. It would be a hard habit to break.

Whatever had kept you from interacting much with Price must’ve changed after that night, because you showed up more after that. It was late at night, and you looked beat, but he could still see the gears working behind your eyes.

“What is it?” He asked as you walked over to where he was sitting in the bed he and Gaz shared, and sat down next to him on it, showing him a notebook. He recognized what was on it, a court of some sort, a net in the middle, and a rotation of numbers, with all the enemy patterns and numbers on the other side of the net.

“Help.”

You stated simply, and he nodded before you explained to him the basics of volleyball. He only really knew the frequently adjusted rules he’d seen on the Olympics sometimes, so it was a lot of explaining, but after that, the both of you were straight to work on finding a rotation and pattern that would work to beat the team that you’d lost to twice this season.

“If 28 is your hitter, why not move them back row, to move in for the kill?”

“It would leave our defenses entirely open. A tip could lose the point and serve, and when we got the serve back, 14 would be serving. She doesn’t do well with serving under pressure. 28 needs to stay front row as long as possible to block.”

“Got it, so..”

He would admit, you were not stupid, and that was for sure. You knew everyone on your team’s strengths and weaknesses and used them to your advantage. It was almost like looking at a younger, female version of himself. Always taking charge, always thinking ahead.

And Johnny…he was obnoxious.

Always flirting with you in any way he could, making random jokes just to hear your tiny laugh or the snort you usually made instead. He couldn’t help it, even when the rest of the guys were getting sick of hearing him.

But, he had his uses, too.

When the remote would break down? Don’t worry, he only took it entirely apart, replaced and tweaked it so it would work, and put it all back together with his nails as a screwdriver.

When you were in an especially foul mood? His terrible jokes came in handy, not because you were laughing at them, but at how stupid he looked telling these jokes, chest puffed out like a proud bird when he saw you snort or your lips twitch, even though he didn’t know whether you were laughing with him or at him.

Johnny was smarter than you originally thought, as well. Had incredibly complicated math homework, and giving you a serious headache? Somehow, the bastard knew exactly how to do it.

“How do you know that equation.”

“It’s simple, really, I use it all the time for me explosives. Reminds me of the time I and the Lt planted them all over, you should’ve seen-“

“On topic, Johnny.”

“Right, sorry.”

But living with military men did have downsides, more obvious than them leaving the toilet seat up, forgetting to do the dishes when it was their day or the same for laundry, or messing up the guest beds. (Though Gaz never forgot about his responsibilities, even taking the time to make you dinner when you would get home late with what little ingredients you had.)

You were a quiet person, and Gaz had noticed it first. How you rolled on your feet, careful not to make noise, not even noticing how you were doing it. Or the way that unless you were slamming the toilet seat down for the umpteenth time, you took extra care in placing things down gently, not dropping them. It was an odd contrast with your blunt, slightly harsh demeanor that reminded him of Simon.

But it had been Gaz that made you fully remember what these men had gone through when you had been scared shitless because of Soap purposefully sneaking up behind you and scaring you, and accidentally letting out a small scream that was more like a yell. Instinct had kicked in, muscle memory as well, and before his mind even knew whose scream it was, his body was moving.

He’d tackled Soap straight to the floor, hands around his throat.

“The fuck, Kyle-“ Johnny had choked out, and it had been Price who’d snatched Gaz up, restraining his hands against his back while you watched in slight sympathy.

It had taken him only a few seconds to calm back down and figure out what the hell was happening, at which he sighed, giving Soap a regretful look.

“Sorry, don’t know what got into me.” He mumbled, and Johnny only stood up, brushing his knees off, and patted Kyle softly on the back.

“Don’t. I get it.” The Scotsman said, before walking out. When he glanced at you, it was the empathy for him that Kyle found most odd. The fact that you seemed to understand.

It was only weeks later that he understood why you could empathize with him over his actions.

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@kazuyatokue

@kiwibao

@kurokitty6

[butchdiaz]

ask for essays on tommy's nerves have essays on tommy's nerves delivered directly to your doorstep!!! sorry in advance for the length and incoherency of this ask because lou's acting choices genuinely make me feel deranged, we are so lucky to have him.

exhibit a: the hand on the chin when buck opens the door. he's thought about this so carefully you can tell from the moment he enters the scene. and i don't even mean the kiss. i don't think tommy knew that was going to happen until approx. five seconds before it did. but he wants to get this conversation right.

exhibit b: the fucking breathlessness when he says "we can talk" (yes we're still not even in the loft yet). like that is the breathlessness of a man seeing whom he assumes is his emotionally unavailable big boy crush and realising he's going to have to smooth things over between him and the man most likely making him unavailable to tommy. (it's also just tommy seeing big beefy tank buckley and getting a little flustered methinks)

exhibit c (moving actually into the loft now): obsessed, deeply deeply obsessed with the way buck removes the obstacle of the kitchen island between them and tommy immediately crosses his arms over his chest like he's trying to put it back between them subtly because he still doesn't think he's allowed to Want.

exhibit d: the way he literally cannot look at buck as buck starts moving in closer quite literally makes me want to rip my hair out. like baby, you're allowed to look i promise, i swear.

exhibit e: the breakout of the laugh to full seriousness as he commits to the "i'm renowned for my fake mouth static" is so special to me because. i have done that. i have committed to a bit that was perhaps a bit too revealing/suggestive with my heart pounding as a way of testing the waters. and then the relieved amusement of his "cmon hey" when buck plays into it.

exhibit f: the way tommy looks at buck when buck's giving his little "threw in with us no hesitation" speech is so. that man is ANCHORING his eyes to buck's eyes. he's still not allowed to look, he is being respectful, he is overcompensating, he is FIGHTING for his life.

exhibit g: his tiny little smile when buck mentions the tour. you wanted to see me? 🥺

exhibit h: the fucking recoil when buck says he wanted to get to know him. the disbelief. the oh. the maybe i can have this.

exhibit i: the slow drop of his smile the more time buck spends mentioning eddie (which btw why is that line so long fuck off buck stand up!!) thinking oh never mind.

exhibit j: "i could teach you" with that bashful little shrug of his shoulders. i could teach you if you'd let me.

exhibit k: the realisation that sinks in after buck says about flying lessons. he wants to spend time with me, he's moving closer. oh shit, i'm allowed, i'm allowed, i'm allowed. the seriousness. the i have to make him understand i want him. the first time he lets his eyes drop to buck's lips.

exhibit l: my attention? one last check. one last check just to make sure. i can want this, i can want him.

exhibit m: his little kind of glassy-eyed smile between "i did maim my best friend" and "my sister". he is not listening to a word buck says. he is making a decision. a terrifying decision, but he's already made it.

exhibit n (typed through tears lol): the way he squeezes his eyes shut as he pulls away. buck is opening his but tommy squeezes his shut harder. he doesn't want to see the disgust on buck's face. he's bracing for rejection. he's hoping, hoping, hoping.

exhibit o: the breathlessness of "like that?" please tell me that was okay, please tell me that's allowed, please please please. the clench of his jaw as he waits for buck's answer, the slight nod like he's confirming something to himself.

exhibit p: the smile when it sinks in that buck wants this. the smile before the immediate "so that was okay?" just needing that verbal confirmation for buck, yeah, but also for himself.

and then for me it's the complete shift in tommy's demeanour after buck confirms it's okay. he goes from this quiet, hesitant, reserved tommy to this confident, flirty, little bit sensual tommy the moment he's allowed. cross town traffic 🫦 came in a car this time 😏. it's just such a wild switch up but it makes so much sense because the nerves have gone. he's allowed to want. (jesus got halfway through the alphabet sorry)

SAMI IM GONNA SCREAM BRB TIME TO WATCH THIS SCENE SIDE BY SIDE W UR ANALYSIS THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 8

chapter 7 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 9

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: when death comes knocking, you can only answer the door.

a/n: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek where do i even start 🥺 i’m just gonna say i’m sorry in advance and leave it at that, but if you read between lines you’ll understand. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! they do keep me motivated. as always, THANK YOU for reading. see you on the other side! x

warnings: 18+, mdni. a LOT of angst and drama incoming. cutesy fluff. established relationship (my babies 😭).  no smut in this one, don’t hate me! mentions of alcoholism and drugs as coping mechanisms. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart). clickers steal the show 😖. death everywhere so be warned. swear words. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 37. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

w/c: ~5k.

tags aka the drama wagon (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

@fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz @guelyury @bishtrouille

The patrolling shifts had increased around Chicago River and Interstate 90. The Rioters had allocated more resources to survey the borders of the area their people inhabited. In the following days to your disastrous incursion, clickers’ activity had peaked. They were coming closer, so it was decided to dispatch them as they neared.

You were all tired, but there was no rest for the wicked. They kept on moving eastwards, as if something was calling them. No one had been able to figure out why, but the answer to that question didn’t really matter. You suspected that something happened that night at the hospital ― maybe Sasha and her team did something they shouldn’t have.

You would never know, so you tried to stir your thoughts away from what would remain a mystery.

You rolled on bed, the early morning light shining a ray on your face. You grunted in discomfort. Your whole body ached ― those patrols were physically intense, but also mentally exhausting. After all, the infected had been people. A father, an auntie, a brother-in-law, a loving child… All those stories were lost to the wind, and you just hoped there still were people who remembered them as they had been before succumbing to the fungus.

You pouted ― That wasn’t how you wanted to start your day.

Still sleepy, your hand dabbed the bedsheets on your right, unconsciously looking for him.

Joel wasn’t by your side. You frowned in confusion and sat up on the bed, rubbing your eyes. As you got up and walked towards the en-suite, you heard Joel and Tommy talking on the other side of the door, where the living room was.

It was a heated argument ― an everyday occurrence lately. Since you three arrived at Chicago almost five months ago, the brothers appeared to headbutt very often. It didn’t take you long to realise that Tommy’s attitude had gradually changed over time, the alcohol being the main culprit. The bubbly, kind Tommy you had come to meet was buried somewhere underneath that ethanolic stench.

You missed his jests, his nonchalance, his light-heartedness. Buy you did understand him too ― he needed an escape from reality. You all did, really. It was just sad that was his choice of inflicting himself with absent-mindedness.

“You spent the night in the fucking cell, really?”, you heard Joel whisper angrily.

Tommy replied, but his speech was so slurred you couldn’t make out his answer.

“I don’t fucking care for your excuses anymore, Tommy, you need to get your shit together. I need you sober, for fuck’s sake ― the situation is getting dire here, we’ll need to leave soon. In this state, you can barely walk”, you knew Joel was getting frustrated attempting to reason with the younger Miller.

You contained a fatigued sigh ― Joel had tried his best these past months to help Tommy straighten out his path. But you couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped. You just wished Joel understood that. But you knew he wouldn’t give up on his brother so easily. His only living relative.

You sauntered towards the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. You were in the middle of doing so when you heard Joel enter the room. His reflection appeared in the mirror in front of you and you smiled at him, your mouth full of toothpaste. The corner of his mouth lifted just slightly as he placed a heavy hand on the small of your back, his lips brushing your right temple. You closed your eyes at the soothing touch. You quickly bent over to spit the toothpaste and rinse your mouth.

“He’ll come around”, you said as his hand draped around your waist, yours stroking his forearm instinctively.

Joel humphed. “I hope so”, he muttered, his mouth pressed against your crown. “It’s not safe here anymore, darlin’, I think we should head somewhere else”.

“I hear Canada is lovely this time of the year”, you joked, hoping to lighten the mood. His expression didn’t flinch ― worry distorting his rugged, gorgeous face. “I know, I know… Could we wait a few days at least? Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve”, you blinked at him.

He considered it for a few seconds before giving in. “Alright, we’ll leave on the twenty sixth”.

You clapped your hands together, a smile widening your features. Joel cocked an inquiring brow.

“Well, Joyce is throwing a party on Christmas Day at hers and, uhmm, I kinda told her we were coming?”. His brow furrowed even more. “Pretty please?”, you begged, your fingers laced in a prayer.

You knew Joel didn’t like socialising nor big gatherings, but it was just one teeny tiny ask. You flashed your eyelashes at him.

“Okay, it won’t hurt, I guess”, he conceded reluctantly.

With an excited squeal, you turned around in his embrace, circling his neck with your arms. You stood on your tiptoes as Joel leaned forward to kiss you.

The day went by slowly. You had been assigned to the evening patrol ― your hunting duties put on hold until further notice. With all this clickers’ activity, it wasn’t safe to venture out. To your dislike, Joel had been in the afternoon one, so you kissed him goodbye when you took over. At least Tommy was with you.

You were stationed in the bridge on West Madison Street, the Lyric Opera of Chicago to your right. There was a total of ten people in your group, each one of you covering different positions. When clickers approached, you shot them through the rifle scope. It had become a mindless game, like the one you used to play in the arcade when you were younger ― Wolfenstein 3D.

Hours had gone by, and you had been standing up for so long that your feet hurt. You eyed the red, thick metal railing to your left and, with a little jump, you sat on top ― your legs dangling in front of you, facing southwards and the rifle conveniently placed on your lap. Tommy joined you a few minutes later.

He remained silent and so did you. Although he was somewhat sober, you could smell the alcohol on him. It was bad enough that he drank himself to oblivion in his free time, but it was not great he came to patrol with dulled senses.

You took a deep breath.

“Your brother needs you, y’know?”, you said with resignation. His eyes were fixed somewhere in the distance, but you could see the pain in them. “We’ll be leaving in three days, Tommy, and we both need you. This reckless path of yours could have dreadful consequences, not only for us, but for yourself… We are both here to help you out, but you’re shutting us out ― Joel is worried sick and, to be honest, so am I. And I get it, this world sucks… but you’ve got us. The people you are meeting up with… They aren’t good for you.”

He didn’t say a word for a long minute. It was probably not fair of you to pester him with your not-so-uplifting speech, but he needed to hear it. As much as you liked Tommy, what troubled you the most was that it would destroy Joel if he lost Tommy too. It had taken him a long time to open up, to start living again, and Tommy was undoing all that hard work Joel had put in.

He sighed heavily, turning to look at you.

“Do I? And please don’t get me wrong ― I’m happy for both of you. But you’ve got Joel and Joel’s got you. Again, nothing wrong with that, but it sometimes feels lonely, y’know? That’s what drove me to Laney and her group, they get me. Yeah, sure, the alcohol, the drugs ― it ain’t great, but it helps. But I know I need to get my shit together, believe me, I do, it’s just… hard”, he shrugged.

Your eyes softened, downcast expression. You knew you were just brushing the surface; it wasn’t just that he felt left out. This new world was devastating, it toyed with your mind, making you believe things that were never really there ― a figment of your imagination, of your worst fears.

You palmed his forearm to cheer him up.

“As hard as it is, I’m sure you’ll still come out the other end just fine”, you smiled, but he was evading your eyes. “You only need to reach out, Tommy. We’re here for whatever you need of us.”

You got home past midnight. You were so worn out, you just whispered goodbye to Tommy and headed towards your shared bedroom with Joel. The handle made a screeching noise, then the door creaked when you pushed it. You scrunched your face in frustration ― you didn’t want to wake Joel up if he had fallen asleep. He had trouble in doing so, his nightmares still haunted him.

You quietly closed the door behind you. The room was dark, the silence only broken by his faint snoring. You grinned ― he did snore, as much as it pained him to admit it. Tiptoeing towards your end of the bed, you scattered your clothes on the floor. Only wearing your panties, you sneaked under the bedsheets. There was no heating, but Joel’s body radiated enough warmth to keep you both cozy for the whole night ― so you curled up against his back, nipples grazing his bare skin, your left arm around his waist and your hand gently pressed against his chest. You could feel his ribcage raising with every breath he took.

He lulled you to sleep, your mind slowly drifting away. He really was your safe haven.

You smiled absentmindedly, a snug sentiment weighing in your belly. You kissed him where his shoulder blades met and whispered, “I love you.”

Maybe he dreamt it. He was not sure.

Maybe his unconsciousness made it up. He was not sure.

However it came to be, that “I love you” had been haunting his mind the whole day. His chest felt tight, a longing ache lodged in his core. Joel had not been able to get rid of that feeling ― being honest, he didn’t want it to disappear. As much as it was painful, it was also hopeful.

His heart fluttered with yearning at the memory, only coming back to reality when you elbowed his side. He had not heard what you said, but your features had lit up with your laugh. The biggest muscle in his chest skipped a beat at such beautiful melody.

“I bet you were the taciturn type as a kid, right, Joel?”, Joyce asked him, question marks dancing in her pupils.

“I was a normal, boring kid. Played a bit of baseball and went on a few fishing trips with our old man, but that’s about it. So yeah, I guess taciturn covers it”, he replied, spooning the stew into his mouth.

Tommy huffed taking a sip of the moonshine in his cup, but didn’t say anything.

The three of you ―Joel, Tommy and yourself― were in the canteen in the Art Institute of Chicago. Joyce, her granddaughter Ava, Walter and a few others were sat around the table, everyone sharing funny snippets of their childhood. Tomorrow was Christmas Day, which seemed to have lightened the mood a bit, some people had even sang some Christmas carols.

“What about you, sweet pea?”, Joyce turned her attention to you.

“I was a weird kid”, you admitted with a laugh. “Used to love bugs, and I really mean love bugs. I had a huge terrarium, a beautiful ant’s nest. I used to go out and picked some of them off the anthill in our backyard to bring them to my colony. Not gonna lie, it was fascinating seeing how the ants would work together to build their little glass community”, you shared while devouring Joyce’s stew. “Then one day, quite a few ants bit me as I was trying to relocate them to a different part of the terrarium, and they fucked me up real bad. Got a terrible infection, was in hospital for two weeks. When I came back, the whole colony was dead, my parents didn’t even let me have a look at it. It was heartbreaking. After that, I steered clear of any type of bugs. I cared for them, even named every one of them, and that’s how they paid me in return? Little bastards”, you cackled, shaking your head.

“You were indeed weird, sweetheart”, Joel muttered so low, you thought you were the only one who heard it.

You patted his hand with a chuckle, unconsciously leaning towards him, your shoulders touching. You always gravitated towards Joel, you just couldn’t control it. Your eyes met and you giggled ― his smirk widened.

“Guilty”, you whispered, his hand enveloping yours under the table.

You had forgotten Joyce was sat across you until she cleared her throat.

“So, you two lovebirds are a couple yet, or what?”, her not-so-innocent question caught you completely off guard.

Shit, shit, you thought, almost choking on your food. You had not talked to Joel about what you two really were. You loved him wholeheartedly, but you didn’t need to put a label to your relationship. At least not yet. You didn’t want to pressure him ― you knew Joel would come around when he was ready.

“Uh, well, we…”, you stammered, your heart racing so fast you thought you were going to throw it up in your bowl.

Joel’s hand gripped yours tighter.

“Yeah, we are”, he replied, matter-of-factly.

Your soul literally left your body. You scrutinised his face in awe ― your lips dissevered, sparkly eyes, speechless. A wave of relief washed over you. He did love you; you just knew it in your heart. The immense love you suddenly felt almost throttled you. If your brain was a functioning organ, you would have hugged and reciprocated him ― but your mind was still short-circuiting.

Joel’s hazel eyes held yours prisoner. He wasn’t a man of many words, but he didn’t need to be ― his orbs spoke for him. They were soft, tender, loving. You heard Joyce’s snicker, but your eyes could not leave Joel’s. There were so many things you wanted to say but couldn’t ― your heart was drowning in oxytocin.

“Why do you look so surprised, sweet pea?”, said the older woman, hardly containing a guffaw.

Before you could find any words to answer Joyce, a shrieking cry disrupted the festive atmosphere. People got up a few tables away from you, screaming so loud you couldn’t make out their words.

A few seconds later, another commotion took place but from the other end of the room.

“Infected! They are infected!”, someone shouted.

Panic spread quickly. People started running, cramming around the two exits. Pushing their way out, elbowing anyone in their way with no regards to children or the elderly. Then you saw a young girl in the middle of a circle, people trying to keep their distance from her. You recognised her from the patrols but couldn’t remember her name.

Then she propelled forward, tackling a man to the ground. He screeched loudly, trying to free himself.

“No, get away from me! Aaaarghhh!”, then silence.

You had gotten up. More cries came from the opposite direction, but you didn’t dare to look. Joel’s hand on your shoulder forced you out of your trance, and you turned to look at him.

His expression was a reflection of yours for a fraction of a second. The fear, but then the resolution.

“Move, move, we gotta go. Tommy?!”, his hands were on your back, pushing you to walk in front of him.

The younger Miller went in front of you, gun on hand, to find the way out. Then you remembered the firearm in your belt and swiftly gripped it. You were about to run behind Tommy when you realised. Suddenly stopping in your tracks, you turned around to face Joel. You looked at him intently, then to Joyce and her granddaughter.

You couldn’t leave them behind. Joyce was the best person you had known in a while. She was like family to you. And you had already lost all of your blood relatives. Joel had one look at you and understood you were not going to accept no for an answer.

“Joyce! Ava! C’mon!”, he shouted while approaching them. Joel picked up little Ava in his arms while Joyce ran towards you, thick tears blurring her vision.

You held Joyce’s trembling hand as Tommy guided you out of the building onto South Michigan Avenue. You looked back a few times, ensuring Joel was right behind you. Ava was sobbing loudly, her tiny face against the curve of Joel’s neck, wetting his t-shirt. The fearful look in his eyes told you a sad story ― you knew exactly who he was thinking of. A gut-wrenching feeling sat in the pit of your stomach.

The streets were crammed with people, everyone screaming names at the top of their lungs. You recognised a few faces: Walter, Eric and his mother, Troy, Kelsey…

“They’re coming through the bridge on West Adams Street!”, someone wailed.

All of you looked in that direction and saw a massive herd of clickers galloping towards you.

“RUN!”, you shouted at your group, pulling Joyce’s hand.

You all ran northwards, across Millenium Park. You could feel your lungs burning, your brain entering fight-or-flight mode, your heart racing so fast you were on the verge of having a cardiac arrest. But none of that mattered ― you were focused on getting out of there, all of you. Tommy, Joel, Joyce, Ava, yourself. You were going to make it out.

“Go to William Fahey bridge, it’s closer!”, Tommy yelled once on East Wacker Drive.

More clickers were coming towards you from the west ― you heard someone around you say that all the bridges on North Wacker Drive were packed with infected.

“They’re here! THEY’RE COMING!”, Joyce wept.

The whole moment was so hectic, with no time to process what was happening. You all sprinted to the only bridge in the hands of the government ― you had no other option. You were almost halfway through the bridge, just a few yards more and you would be on the other side.

As you were racing, you heard a gunshot behind you. You came to a sudden stop to check, letting go of Joyce’s hand ― Joel had just dispatched a clicker which had come too close.

“Joel! Come on!”, you begged, getting closer to grab him by his free forearm.

Then you saw them. Waves of clickers coming towards you, people falling to their demises. Your eyes widened, terror pumping through your veins. You shot a few of them, your aim perfect. But there were too many to fight, fleeing was your only real option.

“Don’t stop! Let’s fucking go!”, Tommy howled, waving at you.

Then chaos unfolded. Gunshots swirled around you. You all ducked behind a car to avoid the trajectory of the bullets ― the government soldiers were shooting to whoever attempted to cross the bridge, clickers and humans alike.

“Help!”, a cry to your left made you turned around in a panic.

Joyce was flat on her back, fighting off an infected. You couldn’t think, so you just reacted ― you leaped forwards, tackling the clicker. Knelt on top of it, its disgusting teeth snapped close to your hand. You felt a brief pang on your wrist as you lodged a bullet in its forehead.

With tears darkening your vision, you came off it and crawled to Joyce. Her eyes, devoid of life, stared at the cloudy, dusking sky. Her lifeless expression was filled with terror, tears still running down her cheeks. Blood was surging from her neck ― unconsciously, you covered the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“No, Joyce, come on, wake up”, you whispered, grief tugging at your lungs.

She could not be gone just like that. But she was. Joyce was dead.

“Up! Lift the bridge!”, a man’s voice was carried by the wind.

Suddenly, the ground underneath you started moving up, the bridge parting exactly where you were. With no time to think, Joyce’s body rolled off the edge into the river as you tried to hold on to something to avoid the same destiny.

That something was Joel’s firm grip on your arm. His eyes wild with dread, he pulled you up and back into his arms. His trembling breath caressed your temple as he hugged you tightly. You knew he was as scared as you were, albeit for different reasons.

But there was no time for the shock to wear off. Off the corner of your eye, you saw little Ava running towards the edge, kneeling on the border, her tiny hand reaching into the abyss underneath. “Nana! Come back, nana!”, her wailing tone gave you goosebumps.

“No!”, you and Joel shouted at the same time, both lunging forward towards her.

And then she was gone too. The rotten hand of a clicker wrapped around her tiny wrist, and she fell off the bridge. Her piercing shriek was still ringing in your ears.

Joel and you remained flat against the asphalt, disheartened and broken.

“I had to let go of her for one second, you were falling, I―”, his voice faltered, his eyes broadened with remorse, transfixed on the exact spot Ava had disappeared from.

He was reliving his worst nightmare again. Your heart bled for him. For Joyce, for Ava. For yourself.

“Joel, don’t―”, you couldn’t finish. Don’t do this to yourself, you wanted to say.

“Get up! MOVE!”, Tommy shouted.

He had fended off the clickers who made it across the bridge before it was lifted. You hadn’t realised his efforts until you swept your surroundings and saw the bodies littered around you. Joel shook his head to clear his mind, casting off all emotions, and got up to his feet, helping you up in the process.

Then the three of you started running towards East Illinois Street while the government soldiers kept the clickers at bay as some of them tried to jump from one side of the bridge to the other ― this time, at least, they were aiming better than they did before.

You were still in living hell, with no chance to digest what had happened yet. It was like walking blindly through the darkness, unable to find the switch to turn on the lights. Your emotions had deserted you, at least for the time being. You needed to find shelter before you could shatter.

You raced for what felt like hours but was only minutes. You turned the corner on Erie Street, near Northwestern Hospital. The streets were filled with soldiers and uniformed police, shouting directions at the unhinged mass of people who were trying to find cover.

You stopped running, feeling like fire was consuming your lungs. Joel and Tommy stopped too to catch a breath. You bent over, hands on your knees, to aid your uncontrolled breathing ― Joel’s hand rubbed your back.

“Laney, wait up”, you heard Tommy say, and supposed that Laney and her group had made it out too.

You frowned when you saw blood dripping from your inner wrist on to your jeans. You turned your hand around to check the wound out.

Your breath didn’t reach your lungs. Teeth marks were imprinted on your skin, a grotesque sight. Your heart came to a halt, and then it pounded so hard your ears rang.

I’ve been bit, you thought, realisation dawning on you. Fuck, I’m bit.

Even though you were internally panicking like you had never before, you straightened your back and looked at Joel blankly. It felt like it wasn’t you who was talking, as if you were seeing yourself from outside your own body.

“Joel, I’ve been bit”. Your voice didn’t feel yours ― calm, ethereal.

He was watching his brother walk away, and then his eyes darted to yours in less than a second. His pupils were dilated, his nostrils flared, his lips pursed. A vein twitched in his jaw, his anxiety peaking to the highest level possible. You saw his hand shaking when he grabbed your wrist to inspect it himself.

Joel didn’t say a word. He didn’t have time to do so. You hadn’t realised that Tommy had stopped walking towards Laney and had drawn his gun as he was retracing his steps back to where you were.

“Joel, move”, the barrel was pointing at you, his hand steady.

Panic set in. Was he really going to shoot you? Just like that? Like your life didn’t matter at all? Like he wasn’t your esteemed friend? In front of Joel? Was this how you were going to die after all?

Questions flooded your mind, death knocking at your door.

Joel positioned his body in between you and Tommy ― one hand reaching back to keep you behind him, the other one in front of him at waist level, palm down, to keep Tommy away.

“Tommy, please―”, he implored in a hush.

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his features were torn. His defeated tone ate at your conscience.

“She’s been bit, Joel. She ain’t coming with us, she can’t”, as much as Tommy wanted to convey a reassuring tone, he couldn’t.

Why was he talking like you were not there, like if you were already gone?

“Tommy, don’t do this. I lov―”, your heart sank to your stomach.

“Don’t say it, she’s dead”, Tommy cut him off before Joel could finish his appeal. “If you stay, you’re going to die. Come with me please, we’ll go with Laney and her group, we’ll survive this. You will survive this”, he nodded in your direction.

You were “this”. He was telling Joel he would get over you once you were dead. And you wanted him to listen. You were doomed, there was no coming back from this. You had seen people turn ― you had a couple of days tops before you would get lost to the fungus. Some people only lasted hours. If he stayed by your side to see you wither away… it would break him. For good.

“Joel, listen―”, you whispered, wrapping your fingers around his wrist ― a silent plea dying in your lips.

“No, don’t say a word”, he barely looked over his shoulder, unable to face you yet. “Tommy, I can’t. I just can’t”, he said under his breath.

“Choose then. Either you’re coming with me or you’re staying with her. But I won’t stay by your side to see you destroy yourself.”

An anxious knot formed in your throat. Was Tommy really going to make Joel choose between you and him? That was so fucking cruel you couldn’t believe your ears. You gaped, trying to say something, but Joel took a step back which forced you to do the same.

“Tommy, are you fucking serious?”, Joel asked, a shift in his tone from incredulity to betrayal.

“There’s your answer, I guess”, the younger Miller replied angrily.

Tommy simply walked off, not looking back, not even once.

Both Joel and you froze in place for a long minute, trying to wrap your heads around what just happened.

Your eyes drifted back down to the wound. Pus and blood oozed out. Your chest heaved, reality setting in. You were going to die. This was not what you had in mind for Christmas. How could this happen? Why you? Even with your mind racing with trepidation, you didn’t regret killing that clicker. What you lamented was that it had been for naught ― Joyce and Ava were dead.

“Hey, look at me”, Joel’s voice brought you back. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs sweeping away tears you were not aware of. “Look at me”, he repeated.

You looked up at him through damp eyelashes, memorising his face. His beautiful brown eyes were swirling with shock, with pain, with darkness, with guilt, with loss. His jaw was so clenched his lips were just a fine line. You momentarily shut your eyes, nestling your cheek into his hand before kissing his palm and taking a step back.

You could not look at him directly. The pain was too grave, too profound ― so insatiable it was consuming you. “You gotta go, Joel. Tommy is right. I’m… I’m dead. It’s just a matter of days, maybe hours. You can’t stay. You can’t follow me where I’m going.” The words escaped your mouth in shortened bursts, unable to keep a steady tone.

He took a step forward and cupped your chin, forcing your head up. His sad eyes captivated you, pulling you into their orbits, as if you were a tiny meteor dancing around too close to the black hole of his irises.

“Wherever you go, I’ll follow you. Even to the fucking edge of the atlas”, he muttered breathlessly. “I love you, so don’t ask me to leave you behind. I’m staying, till the bitter fucking end”, your heart dropped to your stomach at his confession.

This was not how you had expected things to be. You were supposed to have time with each other, all the time in the fucking world. And that time had just been snatched from you mercilessly.

Life was so fucking unjust.

You couldn’t stop the tears any longer ― they overflowed your waterlines, your vision so smeared you couldn’t see his face anymore. Your head tilted forward, until your face was buried in his chest.

Joel hugged you tightly, feeling like he was starring in a twisted horror movie. A dark void had replaced his heart, which had been completely ripped off his chest. He was barren inside. His breaths were shallow, they didn’t even reach his lungs.

Had he forgotten how to breathe?

“We need to get off the streets”, he managed to mumble, holding your hand and taking you away.

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals - Overdraft Fee

(Because it comes after Withdrawals) The Pros Masterlist || ITWS Masterlist || Pro/Vic Masterlist CW: drug addiction/withdrawls, vomiting, hallucinations

Fletcher eased the door open and peered in at Tommy. He was pale and sweaty, squirming in discomfort on top of the bedsheets.

“Hey,” Fletcher shut the door behind them. “How are you doing?”

Tommy’s eyes snapped open to glare at Fletcher, but he held his tongue.

“Drink more water,” Fletcher said, nodding to the still mostly full bottle on his bedside table. “You don't need to ration it. It’ll help with the aches.”

“It’ll help with the aches?” Tommy repeated scornfully. “I can think of something that would help more.”

Fletcher put their hands on their hips. “Okay, I understand that you’re going through it right now, so-”

“You don't understand what I’m going through!” Tommy snapped. Some of the anger dissipated from his features under Fletcher’s cold stare, replaced by fear and misery. He pressed his hands over his eyes. “I’m sorry, just… I can be useful to you if I’m not sick. Please, just… give me something.”

“Look, I can get you methadone tomorrow - probably. You just have to make it ‘til then.”

“I don’t believe that you don’t have anything.”

“Why would I withhold that?”

“No, drugs!” Tommy snapped again. “You have to have something!”

“I never said that I don’t have any painkillers,” Fletcher responded evenly. “I don’t keep recreational drugs in the house, though. So no coke. And no antidepressants, either, although we can… figure that out later if we need to.”

Tommy scoffed. “Maybe you should.”

Fletcher stepped closer. “What?”

Tommy scowled and looked away. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“No, what did you mean?”

Tommy looked at them now, hate burning in his eyes.

“Maybe you should be medicated. Or at least take something that makes you fun to be around, instead of being some sad asshole who lives in the woods out of-”

Fletcher slapped him hard enough to make his head spin. Before Tommy could curl up in a defensive position, Fletcher grabbed his face and brought it close to theirs.

“Out of what?” they hissed.

Tommy averted his eyes and gritted out, “Sorry,” despite still looking pissed.

“No,” Fletcher gave his head a little shake. “Out of what? Tell me what you were gonna say.”

Tommy wasn’t out of his head enough to finish his sentence. He knew it was better to keep his mouth shut. But they were digging their fingers into his cheeks and demanding a response and they weren’t even letting him beg or bargain for pain relief and….

Tommy began to cry, still caught in Fletcher’s grip. He didn’t mean to, but his head was pounding and his body ached and he was hot and cold at the same time and he never stopped feeling like he was on the verge of throwing up and Fletcher wouldn’t even let him do anything to get drugs. They wouldn’t give him anything at all. 

Fletcher made a noise of disgust and released him.

“Give me a shout if you think you’re gonna die,” they said over their shoulder as they stormed out of the room, leaving Tommy alone again.

I just have to get through the break, Tommy kept telling himself. This fever - the withdrawals - they had to break at some point, right? 

God, he missed the internet. WebMD, save me now. He wasn’t sure what would happen, or how long it would take. Would he really die? 

The idea of Fletcher letting him die, purely out of spite, just because they wouldn’t give him drugs, was a funny thought. Funny enough that he laughed about it. It felt like a real possibility, real and close to happening, and he was just snorting and giggling about it on his sweat-soaked sheets. 

Maybe they’ll do it. It might as well happen. He’d had his fun, got to play for a few hours thinking maybe this new life could be okay, could be better. Only to have it snatched away, the dwindling drugs leaving him dying here would be a poignant last kiss goodbye from Caius. He stopped laughing. He laid there in silence and wished things were different. That maybe he could have been someone else.

He hated Caius. He hated Fletcher. To his surprise, Caius visited first. 

Tommy didn’t hear him come in. There was a hand on his face, cradling his chin, another pushing the hair back from his sweaty forehead. He smelled like clean cotton and sandalwood. He was put together as always, beautiful as he was the first day they met. He was wearing that soft linen shirt Tommy liked, that he would rub his cheek on when he pulled it out of the laundry just because it felt nice. So few things in Caius’s home made him feel nice. 

There were no eyes past his clear rimmed glasses, replaced with glowing circles, just like spots in his vision when he’d stared at the sun for too long. The hands on his face were hot, too close, his skin felt unbearably sensitive to his touch - but Caius had come back for him, he wouldn’t let Fletcher leave him to die.

“Caius,” he breathed, and a sob of relief bubbled in his chest. “You - you came back for me.”

“You look awful. Is this any way to behave for one of my friends?” His tone was deceptively gentle, the way it always was, chastising him softly.

“Nooo,” Tommy wheezed, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“They’re sending you home with me. They don’t want you, either.”

Tommy whimpered, sneaking a peek back at the window, at the sunlight streaming in. He felt a pang of remorse for snapping at Fletcher, after all they’d done for him. Caius’s hands pulled his face back, forcing him to stare back into those hollow eyes.

“It’s okay now Tommy, I can make it stop.”

Tommy clutched at his wrists, needed to feel he was real.

“You can?” The whole room was swimming, and all he could do was drown. 

“Please, please, make it stop, please, I’m so sorry,” he begged. He could go home with him happily if he would just stop the pain.

“What are you sorry for?”

Caius’s voice turned cold. So did his hands, suddenly freezing against his skin. He feared they might stick, like a tongue to a frozen pole. He couldn’t speak. He was frozen, too.

“For ruining everything we had? How about that, Tommy, is that it?”

“Yes,” Tommy gasped, as Caius’s nails grew into talons sharp against his face. “Yes, Caius, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Look at me,” Caius snarled, and he gripped the sides of Tommy’s face, looming in closer. Those fingernails burrowed into his scalp. Tommy couldn’t look away, staring into the blinding suns of Caius’s eyes. It burned a searing pain, his eyes were on fire, but he was paralyzed with fear. Caius pressed his thumbs under Tommy’s eyes, pulling the lower lids down as if to peel them from his face. His fingers were long and needle-like now, the sharp tips hovering only a hair’s breadth away from Tommy’s eyes. 

“I’m going to make sure you never see the sun again,” Caius hissed, and he plunged his armored thumbs into his eyes, turning the whole world black in an explosion of pain. 

Tommy screamed and thrashed. A shadow moved in Caius’s eyes and suddenly he wasn’t there. Forming in his place was Fletcher leaning over him, blocking the harsh glow of his ceiling light.

“Hey, hey.”

The hands on his face were human again. He reached up and grabbed onto Fletcher’s wrists. They felt more real.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wailed. “I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to go back in the dark…”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Fletcher assured him. “You’re not going anywhere, okay?”

Caius peered down at him from over Fletcher’s shoulder.

“I can make the pain stop if you come home with me,” he promised.

Tommy wanted the pain to stop. He wanted it more than anything. But he knew going back with Caius meant being locked back in the dark, cold basement. He knew he would be trading this pain now for more pain in the future. He had made Caius so angry… but still…

“How could you get rid of me?” Tommy sobbed. “How could you… how could you not even say goodbye… after everything… after everything you did to me…”

Fletcher’s brows knit together as they watched Tommy babble to no one, eyes unfocused and drifting. His body jerked suddenly and he rolled over to throw up into the garbage. 

At least he had the wherewithal not to asphyxiate. Fletcher pushed his hair off his face as he heaved again. He was hot to the touch.

The door opened and Williams poked his head in.

“What’s going on in here?”

“Do you need something?” Fletcher asked impatiently. 

“I heard screaming; are you torturing him or something?”

“Willy, you thought I was torturing him in here and you just walked in?”

Williams bristled. “It’s Billy.”

“What do you want?” Fletcher repeated.

Williams nodded towards Tommy. “What’s the matter with him?”

“He’s going through withdrawals.”

Williams blanched slightly. “Oh, yeah? What, uh, kind of stuff was he on?”

Fletcher sighed and shook their head, watching Tommy spit into the can. “I don’t know. Opioids mostly.”

“Methadone helps with that.”

Fletcher sighed louder. “If I had methadone, I would be using it. I have a hook up, but I can’t get it until tomorrow.”

Williams studied Tommy for a moment. “You buy this guy on the black market or something?”

“…Something like that,” Fletcher conceded. “Last time I’m going to ask you if you need something, otherwise leave.”

Williams put up his hands in surrender and left, closing the door once more. 

Fletcher turned their attention to Tommy again. He seemed to be done retching, and at least wasn’t begging to empty air anymore. 

“Okay, try to stand up.”

Fletcher took Tommy’s arms and gently pulled him up. They put an arm around his waist to guide him onto his feet. Tommy grabbed onto their shirt to steady himself, leaning against them as he wobbled through the first few steps across the room.

“Easy, Model-T,” Fletcher cooed. They kept him steady as they led him to the bathroom and shut the door behind them. 

“Alright, get out of your clothes.”

Numbly, Tommy disrobed, refusing to look at Fletcher. He was sweating and shivering at the same time, too empty to retch again. He was distinctly aware that he was not impressing Fletcher. 

Fletcher looked him over with a clinical eye. They’d noticed the new scar on his face, and some uneven marbling of his skin, but they had assumed them to be more scars, or a skin condition. Whatever it was, it was brought to stark relief with him nude in the bathroom light. He was dappled all over in patchy white marks, so bleached they looked almost translucent. His ribs jutted out, clearly underfed and malnourished from years of neglect. Whatever the hell they had done to him, his body had taken a severe toll. But now was not the time to interrogate him.

“Okay, get in the tub. You can sit if you need to.”

Fletcher turned the water on as they gave the instructions, putting their hand in the stream to check the temperature. 

Tommy teetered as he lifted each leg to step into the tub, and kept a hand on the tiled wall as he lowered himself down. 

“Okay, it’s gonna be cold,” Fletcher warned before pulling the diverter and switching the stream of water to the shower head. 

Tommy flinched as the water hit him. It wasn’t hard, and it wasn’t freezing, but it was a shock against his feverish skin. After a moment, it became a relief, grounding him. 

Tommy leaned against the wall, resting his temple on the tiles. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms under his knees.

“‘M sorry,” he murmured.

“You don’t have to keep saying that,” Fletcher responded, sitting on the closed toilet. “I don’t even think you know what you’re apologizing for.”

“No… I’m sorry you have to do all this for me. I’m sure this isn’t what you wanted… when you bought me.”

Fletcher said nothing.

“I, um,” Tommy swallowed. “I’ll make it up to you. When I’m better.”

Fletcher sighed. “Alright. I’m sure you’ll be cussing me out for not giving you drugs in like ten minutes.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the rush of the falling water.

“Are you going to send me back?” Tommy asked in a small voice.

“No.” Fletcher didn’t hesitate.

All things considered - at least until the next wave of pain and nausea hit and the cravings took over his system - Tommy hoped they were telling the truth.

Fletcher stopped the shower before Tommy got too cold. They let him towel off and returned with clean clothes before leading him back to his room. 

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be back around.”

Sleep wasn’t on the table for Tommy. Not in this state. He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable.

When the door opened again, it wasn’t Fletcher - it was Williams.

He slipped carefully into Tommy’s room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“What were you on before?” he asked. “Percs, oxy?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy groaned, turning his head away. “Probably.”

Williams leaned down close. He took hold of Tommy’s chin with two fingers, turning it towards himself and guiding it down. Tommy dutifully opened without much thought. Williams placed something on his tongue.

Tommy’s eyes widened.

It was a pill.

“Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya.”

Tommy grabbed his water and drank down the pill as Williams slipped out again.

Maybe it was foolish not to spit it out and check what it was. He wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to tell. But at this point, he didn’t really care. He just wanted to feel good enough to return to his chores. 

Whatever happened, he couldn’t lose the light again.

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr @victimeyez

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

#4 with lots of angst but a happy ending!😭

Warning: Mentions of car accident, pregnancy complications, 4pre-term birth, hospitals.

Harry had been a bit hesitant to schedule any shows for when you made it to your 6 month of pregnancy. However, you assured him that you wouldn't even start your maternity leave until the 7 month mark because you wanted more time after the baby was born; you didn't want to feel rushed to say goodbye to her. You had a desk job, so you weren't doing anything strenuous and your job also wasn't all that stressful. So during a break in his tour he came home and after a few checks ups where Harry asked a bajillion questions, your doctor assured him that everything was perfectly normal and looking really great.

It's not that Harry didn't want to tour, he actually really did because after your baby came he intended to take at least a year or two to just be there with you both. But he also didn't want to be away from you just in case you needed him during this time. But you reminded him that your mom would be coming in from LA to help out soon and well, his mom was constantly around, doting on you, and other friends of yours and Harry's in town, so you had many people around who would surely lend a hand if you ever needed it. So with that information, plus your doctor's confirmation he gave Jeffrey the green light to add one more month of shows to his tour. After all, it would be the last one for a bit.

He was having a blast, he was making the most of these last few shows because he knew he'd miss it a lot down the line. And right now he was in the huddle with the band, pep talking them all right before they got on stage. They were just about to do their chant when he heard someone call his name loudly.

"Harry!" he turned around to see Brad running over with his phone to his ear looking absolutely panicked and scared and worried all mixed into one. He'd never seen him looking that scared and it made him start to worry. As soon as he was closer to the huddle he lowered his voice, "H, Y/N's been in a serious car accident. It's not good." He said and his stomach immediately sank. Everyone's cheerful and excited expressions shifted into those of concern and sadness, "Your mum just called Jeff, she just got to the hospital, they won't give her any details." he said as he said whatever Jeffrey was telling him on the line.

Harry was frozen though, he wasn't sure what to do. He just knew he needed to get there as soon as possible. People always overthink and ponder about bizarre or worst case scenarios to maybe know how to handle them when they arise, but this is not something that Harry would have ever even considered. He was in shock, he had no control, he had no idea what was going on. He couldn't even cry. His ears were just ringing as he heard the crowd cheering and roaring maniacally as the screens darkened, indicating he was about to go on.

"The show." he finally said flatly as he swallowed the lump in his throat, "I can't do the show."

"Yeah, Tommy's already taking care of that." Brad assured him, "Let's just get your things, we're trying to get you there as soon as possible. Jeff is on the other line with Kris. I guess Kim is in town for work, she flew on her jet." he said and Harry nodded, "C'mon". Brad said and guided Harry back to his dressing room. The band rushed after them and followed Harry to his dressing room. He needed to get changed out of his crazy costume... he was trying to get his shoes off, but his shaking hands were making the simple task almost impossible.

"H, I've got it." Mitch said to him softly as he stooped down and Harry nodded. Once his shoes were off he hurried to get changed into his casual clothes. The rest of the band started gathering his things, getting them into his duffle bag so that he could head out as soon he was done changing. They all frowned when they heard him start to vomit in the bathroom but it was understandable, there are just somethings in life that cause a visceral reaction.

Harry just couldn't believe that this was rally happening. He felt like he was outside of his body in a way, just disconnected. But all that came crashing when he realized that no one had any idea of your condition. No one knew if your baby girl was alright...or maybe they wouldn't tell his mom anything because neither of you had made it...the thought of that just made him feel sick to his stomach. He dropped to his knees and just started to hurl up everything in his stomach. He was coughing through his tears and he exhaled shakily as he wiped off his mouth. He then flushed the toilet and rinsed out his mouth before he finished changing.

"Here, H." Sarah said handing over his toothbrush when he opened the door.

"Thank you." he mumbled as he took it and quickly brushed his teeth.

"Yes! We got the jet!" Brad said to everyone as soon as Kim confirmed to Jeffrey that her flight crew was heading to the airfield as they spoke. Everyone sighed in relief at this news, "She told Jeff that they can get you there in 2 hours." he told Harry and he nodded. He wished he could teleport, but 2 hours was better than nearly three hours of flight, not counting the entire process he'd have to go through at the airport. He'd make it there after midnight if that were the case, so the fact that she was in town and was just letting him take her jet was a heaven ordained miracle, and he hoped it wouldn't be the last of the night. Not even ten minutes later they were off to the airfield.

True to her word, Kim's crew was ready to go as soon as his car pulled up. He and Brad hurried out and they had taken off not even five minutes later.

********

Back at the hospital Anne was in a complete panic because no one was telling her anything. No one was giving her any information or just brushing her off. She knew that you were on your way to get your mother from the airport, so she sent Michal and Gemma to go get her and bring her over.

She was more than relieved when Jeffrey called her to let her know that Harry had been able to borrow a jet and was in the air now. But as she hung up with Jeffrey she started getting a lot of text messages from friends and family asking if Y/N was alright. One person sent her a video that someone had taken of the paramedics wheeling her into the ambulance. She immediately called Jeffrey back and he got to work on making sure that those videos got taken down. But obviously, the internet spreads information like a wildfire and half an hour later there were even news reports on the television. People started to recognize her and come ask her questions and so eventually the hospital staff just let her stay in a private room while she waited for your mum, Gem, and Michal to arrive.

********

Obviously, Harry saw the videos. He didn't think he'd be riddled with messages about this; people were asking him questions that he didn't even have the answers to. The not knowing was the worst part. There was already news that he had cancelled his show and speculation that the rest of the tour was cancelled, which he hadn't even spoken to anyone about but that was true. Even if it was a good outcome, he didn't want to be apart from you after this.

He was afraid though because in the videos he saw your pants had blood on them and you didn't appear to be fully conscious as you were wheeled away. The accident had been bad; your car had been t-boned on the driver's side, so you surely had taken the impact, which he knew couldn't be good. He didn't want to think anymore, he just wanted to get there and do whatever he could to help.

********

Once your mother got there the hospital staff were far more collaborative as they shared information on your condition. And thankfully Harry had arrived shortly after everyone else. He asked to speak to the doctors straight away before anything else, he needed to know what was going on before he faced anyone else.

"Good evening, Mr. Styles-"

"Just tell me what happened please." he cut the woman off and she nodded.

"For now your wife is stable, we're just closing her up from the c-section. In terms of your daughter, she's in the NICU. Unfortunately we're not too sure if she'll make it on her own yet." she explained to him and Harry just felt his heart tighten up in his chest as his throat bobbed. "The impact caused very serious abdominal trauma to your wife. First responders determined that the placenta was moderately detached from the uterus because of the bleeding she had." she explained, "When we opened her up though it was completely detached." she said and he shook his head.

"OK, but what does that mean for my baby?" he asked, slightly aggravated. He didn't understand why these people just never said what they meant. He understood it could be hard to give people bad news, but beating around the bush was far more harmful in his opinion.

"When the placenta detaches it means the baby has no oxygen or nutrients. And in severe cases like this it's standard to perform an emergency c-section as quickly as possible to ensure that damage to the baby is minimal." she explained to him and his tears started to fall, "Unfortunately, we don't know long it was fully detached for...if it happened upon impact or on the way to the hospital. But this can lead to several complications for the baby, but given that your wife is just shy of 31 weeks the baby still has some growing to do and my biggest concern is brain injury, which can cause a lot of developmental delays. We just won't know until later down the line." she explained and he nodded, "We've got her on some oxygen for now since her lungs are not fully developed yet. But in normal, pre-term birth circumstances babies born between 31 to 34 week have a 95% survival rate, which is very good." she said and he sighed.

"But this is not a normal, pre-term circumstance." he said to her.

"No, but we're doing everything we can. Your baby seems to have developed really well from what I was able to see. These next couple of hours are critical though and if she makes it through the night I’ll be very optimistic about her recovery.”

"Can I see them?" he asked.

"I can certainly arrange for that. You might be able to see the baby first, but she's in the incubator and it'll be a bit frightening to see her hooked up to several things, but that's just what we need to do to keep her stable." she informed and he nodded, "Your wife had to have a blood transfusion, so she's out. And I believe they are also treating to her fractures. She may also be out for a few more hours since she also suffered a concussion."

"Jesus..." he sighed shakily.

"Your wife will pull through though. She's in great health, Mr. Styles." she assured him and he nodded.

"Alright, thank you Dr. Mehta." he said and she nodded, "I'll escort you to the room your relatives have been given and someone will come get you shortly to see your baby." she said.

It was about 15 minutes before a nurse came in to take Harry over to the NICU. He had to get into a full body paper suit, hairnet, mask, and gloves before he could get in. Once that was squared away he was led to the little incubating carriage that had your little girl in it. When Harry saw her he was shocked at just how tiny she was, he swore she'd fit in in his hand, she couldn't be bigger than his forearm. He was happy to see her, but like the doctor had said it was also scary to see her so tiny and defenseless hooked up to all those things. It was hard to know that she was fighting for her life.

“Can I touch her?” He asked the nurse.

“Of course. You just put your arm through the hole there.” She explained and he nodded, “Just mind the tubes and monitoring pads.” She said and he nodded, “I’ll give you a few minutes, I’ll be right out there if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” Harry hummed and then he was left alone. As soon as she was gone he started to cry. You two hadn’t even agreed on her name yet; but he was glad you hadn't because it might be more painful to name her and lose her. It pained him so much to think that she might not make it through the night and that maybe you'd never even get to see her. He hesitated before his gloved hand made contact with her through the hand opening, but he shook off his concern and just touched the top of her tiny hand. He saw the faintest little twitch in her fingers and he chuckled happily at her response as his tears fell even harder, "Hi princess!" he smiled through his tears, "It's me, your dad." he sniffled, "Please, just...just hang on for me, princess. We already love you so much, we can't say goodbye." he cried quietly. He prayed silently to the heavens that his little girl would make it. She had to make it.

********

It was about two hours later that he was told he could go see you. You were still unconscious but at least he got to see that you were alive. Your right shoulder, arm, hip, and leg were in a cast. He was glad that at least your mom was with him so that they could hold each other while they cried. She wanted to stay a while longer so Harry gave her some privacy as he stepped outside of the room. Letting out a sigh of relief that you were alive. A little torn up, but still with him.

It was undoubtedly a sleepless night. He couldn't risk missing anything. It was around 8:30am the next morning when Dr. Mehta came by the waiting room. He hurriedly woke everyone else up as she stepped into the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Styles and family." Dr. Mehta smiled. If she was saying that it meant that it was good news, right?

"Any updates?" he asked and she nodded.

"Your baby is stable. She remained stable all night." she shared happily and every let out a sigh of relief. He felt a weight lifted off of his shoulders, "now this doesn't mean she's out of the NICU, her stay will be a bit longer, I'm afraid, but she is out of immediate danger." she informed him and he nodded, "Your wife should be waking up in the next couple of hours."

"Thank you, thank you so much." he sighed and she nodded.

"I did want to show you something though."

"Of course." he stood and followed after her.

"I was reviewing your wife's chart and I noticed something interesting." she said and he nodded. Harry followed her down the hall and she let him into an empty room with an x-ray projector. She set the file in her hand down and pulled out your x-rays and powered on the projector before she placed them on the screen. "Look at the fractures. They're here on the shoulder, elbow, hip and femur." she said and Harry nodded, "That's why your baby's alive." she said and he turned to her.

"I don't understand." he said.

"I think your wife had enough time to react before she was hit. It looks like she tried to turn her body away was much as possible, which explains the way her shoulder fractured and she probably used her arm and leg to try to shield her stomach so that they took the brunt of the impact."

"That's...so incredible. Thank you for showing this to me." he nodded with tearful eyes and she nodded.

"Of course. My shift is over, but I'll be back again tonight. Your nurses from last night are still on shift."

"Thank you." he said before he headed back to the waiting room and shared with his family what the doctor had told him. He was so proud of you and he couldn't wait to tell you.

When you woke up a few hours later he immediately went over to see you. It all tears for the first few minutes before you asked about your baby. He squeezed your hand gently and sniffled.

"She's alright. I get to see her again later." he explained and you nodded in relief, "She's just a tiny little thing, this big, I swear." he smiled through his tears as he demonstrated her length to you with his hands, "Your doctor said you saved her life. S'why you're all broken, baby." he said and you smiled at him as you cleared your throat to speak.

"I just wanted to protect her as much as I could." you sniffled and he nodded.

"You did, my love. She's here because of you." he sobbed and kissed your forehead and you felt a weight lifted off of your shoulders, "I told you adding more shows was a bad idea..." he said and you chuckled before you winced, "Oh, I'm sorry, not making you laugh's gonna be hard."

"It might be if you were actually funny, baby." you croaked out and he pouted playfully as you smiled at him. "What're we gonna name our baby? We haven't even discussed it properly."

"S'cause we knew it'll get us in a tiff. But considering you're handicapped and all, I supposed your opinion bears more weight." he said and you chuckled again and he grinned, "And you said I'm not that funny..." he hummed as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.

"I'm concussed." you reminded and he chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, I told her that she was so loved...and well, she's our little love. So I think I want to call her Love." he said and you smiled.

"Love Styles sounds like a cheap lingerie brand." you wheezed as you tried to adjusted yourself a bit and he burst our laughing before reaching up and fluffing your pillow up a bit.

"Yeah...that's...definitely not what I'm going for." he smiled and you smiled back.

"We don't have to decide yet." you said and he nodded.

"I'm just so happy that you're still here with me." he said softly and you sniffled and nodded.

"Me too."

********

It had been a few days and Harry just needed to get home and get showered and changed. It felt good to be home and when he walked past the nursery he smiled, he couldn't wait to have you and your baby home. When Harry got into your shared bedroom he haphazardly dumped his bag out on the bed in search of his toothbrush before heading in for a shower. He took his time under the hot and soothing water. After he stepped out and dried off a bit he just dropped onto your bed and before he knew he passed out. He had maybe slept six hours in the the last 2 days.

"Harry." he heard faintly, "Hang on, he's passed out." he heard as he gained consciousness and slowly blinked his eyes open to see Brad hovering over him and he immediately sat up.

"Is everything OK?"

"Yeah, mate. Y/N wanted to ask you something." he said and he grabbed Brad's phone.

"I've been calling you." you said and he sighed.

"Sorry baby, phone's dead. What is it?" he asked groggily.

"Let's name her Violet." You said and Harry smiled.

"I like that a lot." he said with a grin.

"Yeah?" You asked.

"Yeah, it's perfect." he agreed.

"OK. That's all. Get some rest."

"I'll be back soon though, OK? I love you." he said and you nodded.

"I love you." you hummed back and he blew a kiss at the screen before you hung up.

"Love Styles? Really?" Brad asked him and he scoffed.

"Oh, shut up..." Harry huffed before draping his arm over his eyes.

READ MORE PICTURE PROMPT BLUBRS HERE!

[wolvesofinnistrad]

Read on Ao3 Here.

Its been about 6 months. 

6 of the best months of a relationship Buck has ever had. And its not even about it being a guy, discovering his bisexuality. Its just... Tommy.

Hes great in so many ways, and the dynamic is so different that for the first time Buck has been able to relax, not always feel like hes chasing after someone. Actually, hes found out he quite likes being the one that gets chased, romanced, flirted with.

Everything is going great and hes even, in the back of his mind, been starting to think this might be it, this might be a long term thing after all which he'd have never expected. And then Eddie fucks it all up by telling him his most recent girlfriend, Beatrice or something Buck honestly hasn't kept track lately, broke up with him because quote "i can never have a place in your life when you've got Buck so entrenched in it."

Hes never had anyone imply that his and Eddies friendship, the little family hes made with Eddie and Chris, is somehow wrong or off-putting. Eddie was more annoyed than anything and didn't seem to care. But Buck... Buck got worried. Not because he cared about what Betty or whatever thought, but because he wondered if it wasn't true. If maybe their dynamic would scare people off eventually, and did that mean it would scare Tommy off as well?

So that's how hes sitting here, curled under a blanket on the couch, a new sectional he bought because Tommy's back didn't get enough support in the last one, spilling his guts to his boyfriend. When hes done he looks up at Tommy, expecting, well, something. Anger, confusion, heartbreak, but... Its not there. Tommy smiles at him, placing a hand on his leg over the blanket. "Evan... i understand how important Eddie and Chris are to you. I would never make you choose. I would never try to cut them out or deny you that."

Buck takes that in sits with it for a moment but finds it doesn't fully alleviate his concerns.

"But what if... i mean, if were together, you know, for the long haul. It wont affect you? What i have with them?"

Tommy smiles, he looks away for a minute and laughs.

"Can i be really honest with you Evan?" He says, meeting his eyes now. 

Buck nods.

Tommy inches closer, drawing up one of his legs beneath him. "When we first started dating i knew you all were close, but i didn't really understand until later that you were a 'family.'" He pauses, thinks. "But when i did, yeah, there was a moment i was a little worried where i fit in. Where there was space for me in your life. And then i had an idea, and once i wrapped my head around it that way, re-conceptualized how i looked at things, it didn't scare me anymore."

Now that's surprising to hear, Buck wants to know what could have so easily changed his mind. "And what was it that made you not worry then?"

Again Tommy laughs. "I started thinking of Eddie like he was your ex husband."

Bucks eyes bug out a bit. "My what?!"

Tommy shrugs. "It was easier in my head than just saying your best friend who you're co-parenting with. I've dated guys with kids, with exes before. It wasn't a stretch to think of it like Eddie was your ex and Chris was your kid from another relationship. Once i put it in my head like that, i didn't worry about whether we could have a life together. You'll always be tied to them, but it didn't mean you couldn't have a life with me to." He reached over and took Bucks hand, squeezed it tight. "And honestly Evan? I'm starting to think I'd like that. A life with you."

Despite how weird it is to think of his little family with Eddie and Chris that way, how Tommy sees it, there's something relief and happiness coursing through him. Knowing that Tommy's already figured out how he can keep some of the most important people in his life and incorporate them into a new life hes building for himself. For him and Tommy. 

"Evan?" Tommy asks, scootching closer on the couch, their knees knocking together.

Buck realizes its been too long since he's said anything, but when he speaks he simply says "move in with me."

For all of a second Tommy looks shocked, then elated, then seemingly guarded. "Evan... You don't have to lock me down or something i just exp-"

Buck cuts him off, "its not that. Trust me, I've done that before. Held on so tight, clung because i was scared of being left behind. This isn't that. This is..." he stops, lets his mind and body calm enough to get this right. "This is me holding on because I don't want to let go. Because i want to stay, right here, with you. I'm not scared of being left anymore, I'm scared of not putting down roots. Of not letting the best boyfriend I've ever had,"

"Only," Tommy interjects.

"Best," Buck reiterates, gripping his hand tighter, boyfriend I've ever had know that i want this. I want him. I want a life with you too. And hearing that i think, it was just the final thing falling into place, the last weight weighing on me. I... I've been thinking of asking you for a while, but i wanted so bad to get it right this time. And i think i am, but Tommy." He looks into his eyes. "Tommy you're the first time I've felt like if i got it wrong it would still be okay, we could make it work anyway. So move in with me. Please. Or.. heck, we could get a place of our own if you like?"

Tommy kisses him then. Its slow and passionate but all consuming. Its like nothing hes ever had before. And it feels so right. For once it feels Right.

A week later Tommy sends him a photo of a house for rent. Rent to own actually.

"Wheres that at?" He asks, because its a nice place, he can see the potential.

"Its literally a block away from Eddie's house, I saw it as I was driving away." He says, and Buck can almost hear the laugh and smug smile miles away.

"Its perfect." He writes back. But what he means is, 'you're perfect.'

[tomssexdoll]

heyy girl i have a request

can you do 2010tom x reader fic where tom and bill have a sister who’s same age as reader(they’re best friends) and tom is crushing on reader(don’t mind me,i love romantic stuff🤧)

hiii ofc pookie

My best friend Summer has 2 twin brothers, one named Bill and one named Tom. Me and Bill are super close and Tom too but Tom is very different.

Tom has always been super flirty with me, kissing my cheek when he greets me, putting his hand around my waist possesively when other guys are around, cuddling me in very provocative ways when I'm over and watching a movie.

Summer never really noticed, he only did it when we weren't around her. I felt bad for letting him do it but I couldn't help myself, he was a really cute guy and super kind. He always treated me with respect and stood up for me if I was getting bullied.

One night Tom had invited me over, it wasn't unusual since we were somewhat friends and Summer knew. Bill and Summer were out for the night, on a holiday with their parents, Tom had decided to stay back to focus on his "studies." I didn't buy it for a second.

Once I arrived he opened the door, his eyes lighting up as he picked me up and hugged me tightly, "heyy y/n!", I chuckled, he set me down eventually and I walked in, heading up to his room.

"Soo, what do you wanna do?" he smiled, obviously super nervous. "Oh, anything" I smiled back, sitting on his bed and looking around his room. I had never really been in his room before, only for a short time if he needed to show me something.

He sat down next to me, his tall frame towering over me, making me cave. "Uh...do you wanna watch a movie?" I said, stuttering slightly. He smirked and rubbed my thigh softly with his thumb, "Y/N, its just us..you don't need to pretend anymore.." he whispered in my ear, softly kissing my neck.

I pulled back, sort of freaked out "Tom..but..what about summer? She'll kill me if she finds out!" I whined, "then we won't tell her" he rolled his eyes, slightly groaning.

I sighed and nodded, moving my neck to give him better access. He grinned and held the back of my head, his lips doing magic on my neck, leaving little marks everywhere he went.

"You know..i've liked you for years y/n, I hate that Summer is getting in the way of us" he sighed, pulling back and looking deeply into my eyes, caressing my cheek. "I know Tommy, but maybe if we tell her another time she'll understand, I'll try and throw hints that i like you.." he nodded "honestly that's kind of a good plan, I just want to be able to hold and kiss you in front of everyone, tell everyone you're mine and mine only"

I smiled, blushing softly "me too Tom, i've liked you for years too..all the secret little acts of affection you do made me fall harder for you" he chuckled "it always made me happy when you'd get flustered, you're so cute" he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against mine.

I softly kissed him, my hand resting on his chest. He kissed back with more passion, holding the back of my head again, pulling me in closer. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me onto his lap.

I continued to kiss him, our lips locking in a desperate embrace, needing each others touch urgently, depraved for so long. "I love you Tom.." I blurted out, his eyes widened, "fuck..no..I'm sorry!" I sighed, thinking it was too soon, how could we ever love me?

My overthinking was cut short by him smashing his lips into mine again, "I love you too..it was just a little shocking hearing it" he chuckled.

(When Tom sees or thinks of Y/N, just the way you are by bruno mars starts to play)

tags: @itsmealaiah @tomscumdump @tomkaulitzloverr @20doozers @ge-billsgf @miyukafujii @charliesgoodboy @tomscumdoll @ballhair @bkaulitzlover @syylss

[thetriumphantpanda]

The Way You Miss Me | Joel Miller (Chapter Five)

You put your plan into action - in order to get closer to Joel, you have to get close to Ellie. The home truths that come out as a result aren't at all what you wanted though.

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 3K

Warnings | Angst and pining, mentions of death and origin story of readers scar which involves a knife but nothing else.

Authors Note | This one flew out of my fingers like lightening so I hope you enjoy it! Would love to hear your thoughts so leave comments, like or reblog or pop on over to my ask box if you fancy it! Also not me deadass writing in one of my favourite bands, shoutout to any of my fellow elder emo's out there. The shame of the outbreak is that these guys never got to jam along to Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge or Misery Business..... This fic is actually loosely based on an All Time Low song from their new album, if you wanted to listen you can find it here - listen and watch out for nods to the lyrics in the dialogue here!

It had been a week since the awkward encounter at the bar with Joel and you were frustrated that you hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with him. You’d been watching him from afar, he’d been in the stables one day getting himself assigned a horse so that he could start heading out on patrol. He’d spent an evening at The Tipsy Bison with Tommy, the only acknowledgement was a swift nod of his head towards the table you shared with your father but that was only because Tommy had hit him on the arm, mouthing for him not to be rude. You’d watched him walk down the street past your home a few times, watching from the window and wishing it had been your home he was coming to. The one constant in all of it? The little girl. Ellie was attached to him like a barnacle to a whale, he was never without her, and you’d bet your bottom dollar (If you had any) that the key to getting closer to Joel was that little girl. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You asked Tommy one day whilst you were helping him repair some fencing around the outer wall. 

“You just did, but sure thing Sunshine.” 

“Do you know much about Ellie?” Your tried to keep your tone as nonchalant as possible, but the grin on Tommy’s face suggested he knew exactly where you were going with this. 

“I’ve gotta be honest Joel’s kept her to himself mostly,” He shrugged, picking up his hammer to beat some nails into the wood you were holding still for him, “She’s a firecracker, swears like a sailor and is the only person I’ve ever seen make Joel laugh since the world went to shit.” 

You hummed in understanding, “You know about the things she likes to do?” 

“I think you’re treading a very thin line here.” He warned. 

“I’m not trying to do anything Tommy,” You spoke defensively, “She follows him around like a lost puppy, I’ve not seen her make any friends, I just wanted to try and do something nice for her to make her feel welcome.” 

Tommy sighed, “Space,” He replied simply, “Joel said she liked space, wanted to be an astronaut or something like that, and she's attached to that Walkman like it's her lifeline,” He was focusing on not hitting his fingers with the hammer, “Maria actually put aside a box of things she thought she might like, with the baby she hasn’t had time to take it over, but maybe if you drop back with me later you can drop it off for us?” 

“Sounds good,” You responded, “Will he be there?” 

Tommy smirked, “No, he’s on evening patrol on the fence tonight so nothing to worry about.” 

“I’m not worried Tommy.” 

“Sure, that’s why your nails are bitten down and you’ve been chewing at your lips since he arrived,” Your eyes widened, he was always the more astute of the brothers, “You used to do that before, when you were worried about things.” 

“Well like I said, I’m not worried about anything.” You mumbled. 

“Whatever you say, Sunshine,” He winked at you, “I finished hammering that about five minutes ago, you can let go now.” 

*** 

The box was heavy in your arms – you silently cursed Maria for filling it up so much, what was even in here? You could see a few books on the top and an empty notepad and there was some material at the bottom that could only be clothing. You thanked the Gods for not allowing the bottom to drop out of it, setting it down on the porch before knocking on the door of the house Tommy had pointed at when you were walking back to his. 

It took a while for someone to answer, but the door was eventually ripped open, and Ellie was stood in front of you, trying to catch her breath. 

“Oh hey,” She greeted, “Joel’s not here.” 

“Lucky me, because I’m actually here to see you,” You smiled, tapping the cardboard box on the floor with your foot, “Maria sent me over with a few things she thought you might like.” 

Ellie bent down to pick it up but you beat her to it, “It’s heavy, let me bring it inside for you.” 

She smiled and moved in the doorway to let you pass. The inside of their home was exactly as you’d imagine it to be, it wasn’t that much different to how yours had been when you moved in. Simple and bare save for the few pieces of furniture, a coffee mug was sat on the table near the kitchen – if Joel was half he man he had been before that would be his, half full of coffee that he’d drunk before leaving for patrol. 

“You can set it down on the table.” Ellie directed, which you did, taking hold of the coffee cup to find it was exactly how you’d imagined, half full of coffee which was still slightly warm, Joel had left recently. 

You watched as Ellie started going through the box, taking out the books to read the back of them before setting them down and investigating the clothes, seemingly happy with what Maria had chosen. 

“I hope you don’t mind but I brought you something too,” You spoke quietly, fishing around in your jacket pocket before pulling out a CD, “I don’t know if it’s your sort of music, but I’ve seen you with your Walkman around town and though you’d like something different to listen to.” 

She took the CD gratefully, “Foo Fighters, what kinda name is that?” 

You giggled, “You know they were actually pretty good, I listened to them all the time before all this, trust me.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna keep it?” Ellie asked, trying to pass it back to you. 

“I don’t have anything to listen to it on, so it’s all yours, I wanna know what you think of it though.” You gave her a smile and a wink. 

“Thanks,” She said, “This is actually super cool.” 

You knew you couldn’t linger too long here; you didn’t want to outstay your welcome and make Ellie feel uncomfortable. You wanted to do something nice for her so she would tell Joel. Then you’d be front and center in his mind. He might even thank you himself and surely that meant opening a conversation with him. Baby steps, you kept telling yourself. 

“You’re welcome,” You reached out and squeezed her shoulder, “And if you ever need anything else you can always ask me, I know how hard it can be to settle here after being… out there.” 

Ellie nodded at you, and you excused yourself, heading home and hoping you’d planted a big enough seed to grow. 

***

The next morning, as Joel was setting breakfast on the table for Ellie before she went to school, the seed started to bloom. 

“Your girlfriend came round last night.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You know that woman you knew from before, the one we met at the bar?” 

“Ellie, she ain’t my girlfriend,” Ellie shrugged at Joel’s answer, shoveling eggs into her mouth, “What was she doin’ here?” 

“Bought some box of stuff Maria set aside for me,” She said with her mouth full, earning a glare from Joel at her table manners, “She bought me this awesome CD as well, did you ever hear of the Foo Fighters?” 

Joel nodded, trying not to remember that the only reason he did was because you had insisted on keeping that damn CD in his truck – it had been the background noise to most of your evening escapades when you couldn’t be in his bed. It wasn’t his particular cup of tea, but he had always liked watching you out of the corner of his eye as he drove you to your spot, tapping your fingers on the side of the car and singing along when the moment took you. 

“Well, I hope you said thank you.” Joel grumbled, drinking the last of his coffee, “Now come on, you’ll be late.” 

As Joel stood on the porch and watched Ellie walk down the street to school he cursed you. Cursed you for being the sweet little girl he always remembered and making Ellie happy, because now he’d have to seek you out and thank you himself. Running a hand over his face he resolved to do it today, better to get it over with instead of dwelling on things. 

***

You were bent over the bench in the tool shed taking inventory when a knock at the door pulled you from your counting. Tommy had asked you to take stock of what materials were left after you’d repaired the fence the previous day and although it was giving you a headache it was distracting work, having to concentrate on something that wasn’t Joel. 

“Come in!” You called, not looking up from the pile of nails you were counting, you scribbled the number you’d already counted to on a slip of paper, dropping the rest back in the tub to continue counting later. 

Turning around, Joel was leant on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. In the daylight and up close he was just as devastating as he’d been all those years ago. You silently willed the giddy feeling in your bones to go away. 

“Not interrupting anything am I?” He asked, nodding his head towards the bench. 

“Not at all, it’s a welcome break actually, only so many nails you can count before you go insane,” You laughed, hoping he would do the same, but his face was as stoic as ever, “Do you need something?” 

He let out a sigh, “I just wanted to say thank you for what you did for Ellie yesterday, she’s been through a lot, and this is an adjustment to say the least, so thank you.” 

You smiled at him, “You’re welcome,” you replied simply, “I’ve seen her wandering around with that Walkman attached to her so figured she could use something new to listen to,” You started rambling now, “I can’t even believe I managed to find it, it was just hanging out in some old store we stumbled through a few years back and all I could think about what how we used to listen to it in your truck when you’d….” Your eyes went wide as you stopped yourself from finishing your sentence, this wasn’t how you wanted this to go, “Sorry.” You mumbled, looking down from his eyes to your fingers where you set to work worrying at a bit of loose skin. 

“It’s alright,” He spoke, “If I’m bein’ honest it’s exactly what I thought about when she showed me last night.” 

“Oh,” You exclaimed, snapping your eyes up to him, “Have you thought about me much?” 

“Darlin’,” He spoke softly, “It’s best not to talk about it, I don’t want to upset you.” 

You nodded, “That means no then right?” You replied, “Because if you had you would have said because that would have made me happy, saying you don’t want to upset me means you didn’t.” 

“It was easier that way,” He admitted softly, “Convincing myself you were gone.” 

“Wish I could say the same,” You shrugged, “Was there anyone else?” 

You didn’t know where all this was coming from and you were half expecting him to tell you to shut your mouth and mind your own business, but to your surprise he answered, “There was one woman, her name was Tess, it wasn’t…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words, “It just made sense, we ran in the same circle, and I guess we just helped distract each other sometimes.” 

“Understandable.” You replied simply, itching to get yourself out of the conversation now. 

“What about you, was there anyone else?” 

You laughed, “Travelling across country trying to keep my dad alive isn’t really conducive to that sort of thing, so no Joel, there was no-one else,” He nodded in understanding but didn’t move to speak again, “I should really get back to this.” You mused, pointing to the bench. 

“Of course, sorry for takin’ up your time, and thank you again, Ellie really did appreciate it.” 

Joel left without another word, closing the door quietly behind him and all the frustration you’d felt came tumbling out. Angry tears pricked at your eyes at your stupidity that he’d have thought about you at all. You were only ever the stupid little girl with her stupid little crush and the moment he had the opportunity to forget you he did. Of course he did. You wiped at your cheeks furiously, willing your emotions to get themselves in check so you could go back to work, but for the rest of the day you’d catch yourself in your melancholy, tears threatening to fall and your mind completely distracted. This was not how this was supposed to go at all. 

***

“You should have seen his face!” Your father roared at the table, “White as a ghost when I woke up.” 

You weren’t sure how you’d made it here but you were sat at a table in The Tipsy Bison with your father and Tommy, along with Joel and Ellie, whilst your father recounted stories of your survival, telling them with an enthusiasm that would rival a war veteran speaking about their time in the forces. He was currently going through the motions of explaining how you’d made it to Jackson and how he thought Tommy was going to pass out when he realized it was the both of you he’d rescued. 

You’d mostly kept quiet, only popping into the conversation to correct him when he got something wrong. Otherwise you kept your focus on the glass of whiskey in front of you that Tommy was keeping topped up with the bottle he’d bought from the bar for you all. 

“How’d you get that scar on your face?” You looked up at Ellie, everyone else looking at her in horror for being so blunt. 

“Ellie, don’t be so nosey.” Joel chastised her. 

“It’s alright,” You shrugged, “It’s pretty lame actually, we’d shut ourselves in a house a few years ago trying to hide from a pack of infected, not realizing someone else had the same idea. I was looking out the window to see if we had a clear route out when I heard someone shuffling behind me. I turned around and by the time I realized what was happening he’d slashed the knife on my face.” 

“Did you kill him?” 

“Ellie!” Both Tommy and Joel burst out at the same time. 

You chuckled, realizing you probably shouldn’t encourage her questions, but replied anyway, “In a way I guess I did, we had a bit of a struggle and he tripped and fell out of the window, it was a tall building so yeah, he died.” 

“That’s cool.” 

You shrugged, looking around the table to see that everyone was willing the conversation to move elsewhere, you were itching to know more about how Joel and Ellie had come to be together aside from the snippets Tommy had told you, but you didn’t think this would be the right place to ask. Instead, you fished a cigarette out of your jacket pocket, shoving it between your lips and excusing yourself. 

You were halfway through it, leaning against the railing outside the bar when you felt someone come up behind you and lean themselves down next to you, “Never thought I’d see the day when you turned to those.” 

“Well, I’m not surprised if you spent the last twenty years convincing yourself I was dead,” You shrugged at Joel, as always, alcohol emboldening your tone, “I’ve gotta die of something and I’d rather these than being torn apart limb from limb or sprouting mushrooms from my face.” You punctuated the end of your sentence with a long drag of your smoke, blowing it out into the cool night. 

“How do you always do that?” He asked. 

“Do what?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Make anything seem funny,” He offered, “The world’s gone to shit, everyone we’ve ever really cared for is dead and yet here you are, joking like we’re back to the days before.” 

 “It’s the only way I don’t focus on all the shitty things I’ve done to get here.” 

It was silent between you for a moment. You could have sworn you saw Joel move his hand as if he was going to place it reassuringly on your arm like he always did but he didn’t, even if your head was screaming at him to do it, just to breech the barrier he had up between the two of you. 

“Can I say something?” You asked after a moment. 

He nodded, “I don’t want to step out of line, but I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about Sarah,” You could see him physically tense next to you, “You don’t have to tell me what happened, in fact, it’s probably best you don’t but… I liked her Joel; she was a good kid and she didn’t deserve what happened to her and I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

“I hate the way you miss me.” He mumbled. 

You looked him dead in the eye for the first time, “I don’t hate the way I miss you,” You spoke honestly, “I think it’s the only thing that kept me alive sometimes, thinking about the chance to see you again, hold your hand or kiss you.” 

He sighed, “You can’t stand there and say that,” He spoke roughly, “With your big eyes beggin’ me to be the man you deserve, I couldn’t be that before all of this and I certainly can’t be that for you now,” and then finally, “We can’t keep doin’ this.” 

You nodded, stubbing out your cigarette and throwing it to the ground in front of the bar, “Understood,” You spoke, giving him a final glance, “Goodnight Joel.” 

PREV | NEXT

[babygirl-diaz]

When Blue Eyes Turn Green (Buddie, BuckTommy fanfic)

Thank you @princesseddiediaz for the prompt!

***

It was a regular call with a small fire at an apartment complex. Buck and Eddie went door to door, evacuating the place. Once evacuation finished, the two of them were on crowd control duty, ensuring no one ran back into the building.

And that's when it happened. A man started talking to Eddie. Buck made nothing of it at first, but then he noticed the man's body language. He was standing closer to Eddie than necessary, using every opportunity to reach out and touch him. Buck knew it was only a matter of time before Eddie caught on and countered the man's advances. Because this wasn't uncommon. Someone always flirted with Eddie. And although, like him, Eddie was into both men and women, he only flirted with people he felt an emotional connection with.

However, something unpredictable happened today. Eddie moved closer to the man and touched his arm, which the man was obviously trying to flex.

Buck wasn't sure why, but he saw red when that happened. Before he knew it, he made his way over to Eddie and the other man. He put a hand on Eddie's shoulder and the other around his waist and pulled him back against his chest. Eddie tensed in his arm. The stranger, on his part, looked a little taken aback. Buck towered behind Eddie and tried to use every muscle in his being to make himself appear taller and menacing.

"Who's your friend, Eds?" Buck asked, scowling at the other man.

"This is Jason. He lives in apartment 558," Eddie replied and relaxed a little.

"Well, Mr. 558, maybe keep your distance from my boyfriend?" Buck told Mr. 558, who just frowned in return.

Eddie turned his head towards Buck and growled in a low voice, "What are you doing?"

"My bad, man, I didn't know Eddie was taken," Mr. 558 put his hands up in surrender and backed away.

"Well, now you know," Buck replied and let go of Eddie. He instead took his hand and drew him away from Mr. 558.

"What the hell was that?" Eddie asked, pulling his hand away.

"I was doing you a favor," Buck replied.

"A favor?" Eddie scoffed. "By what? Chasing away someone I might have an interest in?"

Buck frowned at that and felt his jealousy grow even more. "You were interested in Mr. 558?"

"His name is Jason and yes, I am," Eddie replied and stepped closer to Buck and put a finger in his face. "Buck, you have a boyfriend. You gotta stop being so damn possessive of me. It's weird, man." With that, he pulled back and walked away, leaving Buck dumbfounded.

***

"And then he said that it was weird that I was possessive of him!" Buck told Tommy as he aggressively cut up the vegetables for the soup they were cooking together. "Can you believe that?"

Tommy stopped stirring the pot and raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, I sure can."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Buck asked, frowning at his boyfriend.

"You are possessive of him," Tommy told him.

"No, I am not!" Buck huffed. "You are my boyfriend, not Eddie."

"I know that, but do you?" Tommy asked. He sounded more amused than pissed off.

"What are you talking about?" Buck asked.

"Need I remind you of the basketball incident?"

"I thought we already established that I was trying to get your attention during the basketball game," Buck replied.

"Did we establish that? Or did we just sweep that under the rug?" Tommy turned off the stove and came over to Buck. He wrapped his arms around Buck's waist and pulled him close. "Baby, it's okay, I understand why you're possessive of Eddie."

"I'm not-"

"Before you say you're not, just hear me out. He's your best friend but you are also in love with him-"

"WHAT?! WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET THAT FROM?" Buck yelled, pulling away from Tommy.

"Glad we're being mature about this, baby," Tommy said sarcastically. "Look I don't blame you for loving him. He's this amazing guy who loves unconditionally and you want that." He paused for a second before saying, "I want that too."

Buck's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"I get why you're possessive over Eddie. If I was there when Mr. 558 flirted with him, I would have broken Mr. 558's jaw," Tommy replied.

Buck gulped. "That's exactly what I wanted to do," he admitted. "What- what does this mean?"

"It means, we're both kinda heads over heels over this beautiful man," Tommy replied. "And maybe... We should ask him to date us."

"Seriously?" Buck asked excitedly.

"Seriously," Tommy replied.

Buck threw his arms around Tommy's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. "You are literally the best boyfriend anyone could ask for."

"Do you think Eddie will want to join us?" Tommy asked.

"Well, we can ask him to find out," Buck replied and kissed his boyfriend again.

[mazzystar24]

OMG i still feel like I'm in a fever dream. I keep refreshing tumblr just to make sure that it HAPPENED.

We've been waiting for this for so long, i can't believe that they made Buck Bi!! Also here is the thing i want Buddie to happen and I am a hundred percent sure that it's happening (i don't know why people are thinking that it's not like???) the way i could see this going down is buck and tommy exploring their relationship and Buck beginning to question more and more things such as his relationship with Eddie. I WANT and him and Tommy to be in a relationship for a while (because they're actually pretty cute) and eddie pining. tommy will be the catalyst for Buddie.

Also: Oliver stark literally said, Buck has a crush, gets the person (exactly what happened with tommy) and that he has to work for his relationship to work and ryan saying "closer than ever??"

I also hate the fact that so people are mad and hating on the actors , that it wasn't with Eddie. Like of course a Buddie conformation would've been great, but we all knew that that wasn't gonna happen in this episode? We got FUCKING BI BUCK !!! Let's just celebrate this and just watch this beautiful story unfold. I really love reading your prediction and your positivity, please continue with that !!!

What do you think is going to happen in the next episodes? Sorry for the long ask!!

Sameee like I keep trying to be normal then I REMEMBER I’m like wow I didnt hallucinate that??

Exactly like they flat out called Tommy a plot device, confirmed he’s here for a little bit and that it’s a fling, so enjoy it as much as you want to while it’s here but don’t lose hope for buddie people? like legit this is the biggest confirmation buddie is on the horizon

YES THE INTERVIEWS HAVE BEEN REALLY FEEDING INTO MY DELUSION

Like let’s not forget Ryan saying they’re trying to give the people what they want🫡and that they are closer than ever - like legit he has no reason to say this in the same season buck realises he’s bi unless something BIG is gonna happen for buddie (maybe not full canon but vibes???)

Anyone hating on the actors can legit fight me.

Oliver and Ryan have been such troopers for the fandom and Oliver now with this storyline you can tell how much he genuinely loves buck and like understands him as a character but also how to give this storyline what it deserves. Like Oliver has been endlessly respectful to the fandom too like he’s been making sure that he doesn’t get peoples hopes up while also trying to play buck in a way that is true to the character. Like did you guys see his message to the fans? Or his interview talking about how he was gonna actively play buck as bi this season as much as he can even before he got told abt the kiss. Like that man hasnt just been supportive of the fandom he’s been an advocate for us and for buck which is such a wonderful thing.

Also yeah it wasn’t Eddie but do people realise that it’s VERY hard to write an up to now presumed straight character’s self discovery in their 30s LET ALONE TWO?? Like Tim found the easiest way to set the scene for the new audience and the GA who won’t have picked up on early seasons undertone and the little things planted throughout and while I would’ve loved buddie without the middleman I completely understand why they did it this way and I’ll enjoy seeing it unfold

And YES EXACTLY BI BUCK like that alone is a MASSIVE win like we are getting such rare bi rep of not only a guy in a very “macho” job and a womaniser type character BUT ALSO a person figuring stuff out in their 30s not in a repressed full of sex shame and guilt way but in a they genuinely just never explored that side of them!! Like that’s so huge we can talk for hours about how many queer rep stories are just plain depressing but this one is so authentic while also being quite light and sweet

Also aww thanks I genuinely love these asks sm (me? In love with everyone who sends me an ask? More likely than you think🤭🤭🤭)

Also omg I’m sorry this is so long like I spent most of this talking about everything except your question😭😭

Okay so predictions:

So we know that Buck is gonna tell some people and some will be surprised some not so much and some will be like it’s about damn time, my bets are:

chimney- surprised but maybe not through insider info (Maddie)

Maddie- KNOWS HAS KNOWN but the only shocker for her is that it wasn’t Eddie like I can imagine the confused and so tired face rn, I think she probs has either thought he knew or knew he didn’t and just was giving him the time and dropping as many hints as she can in the meanwhile

Bobby- supportive father icon, KNOWS (and while he also I fully believe is the buddie captain as well he will play it a little closer to vest if you get what I mean- but inside he’s going insane and his eye is twitching because he poached Eddie for his dumb bi son only for them to ACT married for six seasons and go to him for dating advice abt other people constantly and now that his son is a man kisser it’s not the man Bobby was hoping for😔 pray for him y’all)

Hen- she’s the it’s about damn time response

Athena- also might be the it’s about damn time response

Ravi- in a permanent state of confusion- not about this he’s just confused always (also still fully convinced the poor guy thought buddie had been married cos that headcanon is endlessly amusing to me)

Now for actual plot I think that like the date is low-key a train wreck after the Eddie and Marisol interruption and that either we get a chenford-like double date or we just have a brief intereuption from Eddie and that’s a minor thing and like it’s buck admitting it’s his first date with a guy who hates throws a lot of questions in the air because Tommys reaction was a bit 👀 like I think it’s more or less confirmed that Tommy was repressed for a while when working with captain dickhead so maybe he’s like gonna be taking a step back cos he thinks buck needs more time to like explore this part of himself (but I hate that trope so hoping not) or maybe we get the buddie shipper daydream and Tommy is like more aware of buddie than buddie are and he either says that to buck as the reasoning but buck doesn’t tell Eddie that OR he says something cryptic about it to buck and buck doesn’t fully understand and he’s like you will eventually👀👀👀 (I need a lobotomy yes the delusions are a part of me now)

I hope that Marisol gets the fuck out right about now but I say that every episode 🫡 (edy’s face and voice make me wanna scream I hate her homophobic, transphobic ass sm)

Anyways I’m gonna shut up now bye love ya thank ya and sorry 🫡🫡

[thedeviltohisangel]

HE'S A GOD, HE'S A MAN

Chapter One

He dared to let his thumb brush against the worn parchment of the monochromatic photograph. In his darkest moments he let himself think it was her cheek instead. Vividly imagined the slight flush from his touch. From the physical toll her work always took on her. The racing of her heart that pulled them closer and pushed them farther apart. 

Chapter Two

Lydia thought the quality of air in New York was rough but Birmingham was giving that thought a run for its money. She held a handkerchief over mouth and nose as she stood in front of the two family home that would be half hers for however long this operation took.

Chapter Three

Lydia took her time washing the blood from her hands in the kitchen sink. Tommy had locked himself in a room that she assumed acted as his office of sorts. She had rubbed her hands almost raw in the hopes he would show his face again. All she wanted to do was talk to him. She wasn’t looking to pick up exactly where they had left off. If he wanted nothing to do with her, the least he could do would be to say it to her face.

Chapter Four

Lydia was breathless by the time she made it to Watery Lane. She had practically ran. The faster she got away from Campbell then the faster she would be with Tommy. Where she should have been all these years.

Chapter Five

Lydia was peacefully changing the bandages on a wounded soldier when there was a shift in the air. The quiet hospital, save for the occasional groan when a patient tried to roll over, suddenly shifted like a fireball had rolled into it. Her fellow nurses were helping carry in three men that were limp in their hold. Blood caking their faces. Body parts pointing in directions they didn’t naturally point in.

Chapter Six

Tommy had thought a lot about what his first meeting with Campbell might look like. He had thought it over in his head a million different ways so no matter what tact it took, he wouldn’t be caught off guard. But now that he knew just how deeply Lydia was involved with the entire mess, it made things more difficult. He couldn’t risk upsetting the Inspector or she might suffer because of it. And he couldn’t risk showing the effect her return had him because that could put her in just as much danger.

Chapter Seven

The Garrison was alive and bustling and had its own personality. Lydia had never been happier to be at work. Maybe had never been happier in general. Things with Tommy with good. Touches and kisses and whispering silly sweet nothings were now normal aspects of any of their encounters. It felt so right and like it was the way things always should have been. 

Chapter Eight

Lydia could have basked in the new glow of love that surrounded her and Tommy for the rest of her life. Just the two of them standing nose placing gentle kisses to each others lips. It was soft and sweet and safe and so unlike the real world that they found themselves living in.

Chapter Nine

Lydia walked back from the dress shop with an extra spring in her step. Tomorrow her and Tommy would be going to the races and she had just found the most exquisite dress in the world to wear for it. Tommy had told her not to pick one that was red just because of Billy Kimber. That he didn’t want her standing out in the crowd like that. But Lydia knew the game that men like Billy and Tommy played. She knew the races were a backdrop for something bigger than she was yet able to understand. If wearing a red dress and batting her eyelashes made Kimber a bit more amenable to her Thomas then a red dress she would wear.

Chapter Ten

Tommy had been staring intently at Kimber’s house which he was parked in front of. He was trying to put a bit of distance between Lydia’s arrival and his. He couldn’t go in there guns blazing and light the entire business deal on fire.

Chapter Eleven

They couldn’t get close enough to each other even in their sleep. Still nude from the night before but now wrapped in a thick quilt, Tommy’s hands were resting on her bum and her arms were wrapped around his waist. Lydia’s head fit perfectly underneath his chin and her nose tickled his throat ever so slightly as she took deep breaths during the night. Both of them knew they’d be the luckiest pair in the world if they were allowed to wake up like this everyday for the rest of their lives. Maybe only putting space between them for a little one.

Chapter Twelve

It was difficult for Lydia to sneak away from Tommy after the events with the car. Luckily, she had had the help of Polly. Polly was beginning to get nervous for the safety of Ada and her unborn child if she kept down the path of trusting Freddie and not looking out for herself first and foremost. Which is why Polly had slipped Lydia a piece of information. The address of Stanley Chapman.

Chapter Thirteen

Lydia didn’t feel like celebrating at The Garrison. She was there all the time. Was there with Tommy all the time. The cause of his coin flip going in a positive direction was one that deserved a special celebration. She took him to her flat, Tommy surprised how homey it felt even though she rarely spent time there.

Chapter Fourteen

When the crowd of people and their voices began to approach the wagon where they were hiding out, Lydia and Tommy figured that meant it was time to join the party again. She smiled as brightly as she would and let Ada pull her closer to the fire for a dance and some warmth.

Chapter Fifteen

The rest of them knew Tommy wasn’t going to be thrilled to walk into the house and see that their father was in the kitchen. They had prepared themselves for that. But they hadn’t thought at all about the fact that it was very likely Lydia would be with him. That when Tommy was with Lydia, all bets were off.

[inawickedlittletown]

Dragon Chosen (BuckTommy fic) - 4/6

Summary:

In a world where dragons exist and where they pick their riders, Buck doesn't expect his perfectly normal Tuesday to include a dragon and his rider, Tommy, showing up to ask for his help with an injured dragon…a dragon that has picked Buck as his rider. Buck doesn't know who captivates him more his new dragon or Tommy.

Rating: M

Words: 3.7k

Ao3

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

-

Chapter Four

It felt like panic coming over him, seizing him and screaming at him to do something. He knew, all at once, that it was Gwyn. Gwyn’s panic. Gwyn’s fear. 

“Gwyn,” he said and reached out back to his dragon, trying his hardest not to push his own fear onto the dragon. 

I’m coming, Gwyn. Hold on.

Gwyn didn’t respond. That made Buck’s own panic rear. He felt Tommy grab his hands and that was enough to ground him. Tommy’s hands were warm and they were strong and the callused skin offered something to focus on.

“Evan. Evan. Evan, we’re going back right now. Cyra is coming.”

They clambered up her, her scales were already mostly dry and they settled into the saddle almost at the same time. Cyra didn’t wait, pushing on her powerful legs and lifting into the air with just a few flaps of her wings. He reached for Tommy and pressed himself close. He tried not to get overwhelmed. He was used to being the person that was calm in a storm, the person that could be relied on to do the work of saving someone or helping someone despite what was happening around him. Buck didn’t understand how Gwyn could throw that into question. But maybe it was more that Buck was dealing with Gwyn’s emotions alongside his own. 

Cyra got them up high fast and flew as fast as was possible to get them back to Gwyn. She dropped from the sky too fast on approach, but Buck didn’t even care that when her feet hit the ground, the ground shook. He cared that Gwyn was screaming his name. 

Gwyn!

Evan, she responded and repeated his name almost like a mantra. 

Her panic was still coming at him, but less intense. A situation less dire than Buck had been coming up with in his mind. Cyra got low and Tommy moved forward on the saddle, lifting his leg over. Buck followed, but Tommy didn’t get down. He moved over the saddle onto Cyra’s neck. 

“Tommy, what are you—” 

Tommy turned back and his face looked serious, jaw set. “Can you feel it?” 

“Feel wha—” 

Buck felt out, touched the magic that had been left behind. It was familiar which threw Buck for a loop. Why did he know this magic? Last time, Buck hadn’t felt the magic on Gwyn, so that wasn’t why it was familiar. 

“What is that?” Buck asked. 

“It’s the witch,” he said. 

Gwyn are you alright? What’s happening? 

The witch was here. 

Panic seized him again. 

Was?

She left, Gwyn confirmed. 

Cyra got down closer to the ground and Buck dropped down from her on his own. He heard Tommy follow behind him. Down on the ground, the magic was stronger. Remnants that would dissipate in the next hour or so, but that lingered because whoever the witch was, she had used a lot of magic.

Gwyn walked their way a little awkwardly, wings still sore from the day before. His fear had been replaced with confusion and relief and Buck knew it was because he was there. He rushed towards his dragon and Gwyn dropped his head to Buck’s shoulder. It was amazing how much bigger he’d gotten in the last month alone. He was still small in comparison to Cyra, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he wound up bigger, or so Tommy said. 

Are you okay? What happened?

She couldn’t find me. Tried and tried. Used a lot of magic. 

Gwyn sounded so young, suddenly, and Buck could feel how scared his dragon had been. He ran his hands over Gwyn’s head, sending out comforting waves and his love. It seemed to calm him. 

She didn’t hurt you. I’m here.

What if she comes back? 

What indeed? Buck rubbed his hands over Gwyn’s scales. He turned, when he heard Tommy, but didn’t let go of Gwyn. 

“I called the Guild,” Tommy said, phone in hand. “They’re going to contact a few friendly witches to see if one will come out to check this place out. There aren’t many I would trust to come here, but it might help to locate the witch that attacked Gwyn. How are you doing, Gwyn?” 

If Buck really concentrated, he could feel the magic, how it got thicker closer to the house and how the shed was surrounded by something different. He wasn’t capable of telling what the magic had been meant for. No matter how sensitive he was to it, Buck just wasn’t a witch. 

“I’ll call Eddie,” Buck said. 

Tommy frowned at him. “Eddie’s a witch?” 

“Yes, not that he really embraces that part of himself. He, uh, he doesn’t call himself a witch. He’s a brujo.”

Buck made the call, still standing by Gwyn, unwilling to go very far from him. Cyra had moved closer too, dropping her head to sniff at Gwyn. When Buck got off the phone, Cyra encouraged Gwyn to rest. Buck could feel how still the dragon felt and it wasn’t just the strain on his wings from the flight the day before. 

Gwyn laid himself down when Cyra did, curling himself up with his wings settled on his back. Buck sat down on the grass and leaned against him and that seemed to help relax the dragon. 

“He’s on his way,” Buck said. 

Why does the witch want me?

Buck had asked himself the same question. I don’t know. Have you spoken with Cyra about this? 

I don’t like thinking about the attack…how I was almost forced to bond with her. It’s you that’s meant to be mine. Gwyn shifted slightly until he could lift his head and look directly at Buck. 

Well, what Tommy has told me is that the witch was after your magic. How did she not find you?

I don’t know. 

“Tommy, why did the witch not find Gwyn?” 

Tommy, who had clearly been talking to Cyra, turned to look at them. 

“He was in the shed,” Tommy said. “There’s protection runes on it, enough that it kept him hidden. It’s good you stayed in the shed, Gwyn.” 

—

Tommy had heard bits and pieces about Eddie Diaz. Evan talked about him a lot seeing as he was his best friend and in those weeks before they started hooking up, Tommy had even thought for a moment that Evan was pinning after the guy. But, it seemed like they were just work partners and best friends. Evan had never mentioned that Eddie was a witch, though it made sense with the garden Evan cultivated. 

Tommy went out to meet Eddie in front of the house with Evan and his first impression was that the man was attractive. He was also not alone. Walking behind him with the assistance of forearm crutches came a boy that was probably right at the cusp of teenagehood. 

“I hope it’s okay I brought Chris with me,” he said. “He heard me on the phone and insisted on coming.”

Evan’s smile grew when he spotted Chris. He bypassed Eddie to get to Chris and they hugged, but kept their greetings short because they all knew it was time sensitive. 

“I’m Eddie,” he offered to Tommy with his hand. 

“Tommy,” Tommy said. “Nice to meet you.” 

Evan lingered with Chris, walking at his pace, so that left Tommy to lead Eddie. 

They had made it within a few feet of the house when Eddie stopped. He had a pinched look on his face, like he was smelling something unpleasant. 

“What is it?” Evan asked. 

Eddie looked at him. “Whoever the witch was, she’s desperate. Her magic is…there’s something dark in it. I can’t explain.” 

“It’s more concentrated in the back of the house,” Tommy said. “I know what you mean.” 

They continued walking, but Eddie stopped a few times, raising his hands in front of him and sometimes it was as if he were following a thread or something. At the back of the house, his eyes went right to the shed. 

“It feels different here,” he said. 

“Protection runes and probably Gwyn’s magic. Cyra’s too.” 

“Right,” Eddie said. 

Eddie could probably feel the magic the dragons just naturally carried around them. He was too focused on the witch’s magic, though. 

“A tracking spell led her here,” he said. 

“Woah,” Chris said. 

Tommy and Eddie turned just in time to see that Chris had spotted Gwyn and Cyra. Tommy smiled to himself. It would never get old to see someone react to Cyra. 

“Dad, can I go see the dragons?” 

“Uh, I don’t—”

“It’s fine,” Evan said. “They won’t hurt him. I’ll go with him while you keep working.” 

Eddie didn’t seem too bothered. Tommy stayed with him, but he watched as Evan and Chris made their way to the dragons. Cyra, always aware of her size, stayed relatively still. Meanwhile, Gwyn seemed as excited as Chris was to meet someone new. Tommy watched until Evan and Chris had made it to the dragons. Chris seemed to have gotten nervous the closer he got, but Evan helped him and then Chris was reaching out and touching Gwyn and giggling probably because the dragon had started talking to him. 

“When they get together it’s like having a second kid around,” Eddie said. 

“That’s cute,” Tommy said. “Add a third kid if you count Gwyn.” 

Eddie chuckled. “I guess it’s a good thing Buck is great with kids. Buck’s always been great with Chris. Gets him in a way that I never will.” 

After that, Eddie kept checking on things. Occasionally he stopped and Tommy could feel Eddie’s own magic rearing up. It was light, strong in a gentle way. He frowned when he got closer to the shed. 

“I’ve felt this magic before,” he said. 

Tommy was startled, he stared at Eddie. “You have?” 

Eddie nodded. “I just…I can’t place it, but I know I have. It’s familiar.”

“And can you tell anything else?” 

“Most of the magic used here was tracking and tracing. She must be using something to track Gwyn because she got very close. She must know he’s been bonded, though. If the shed hadn’t shielded him…”

“Gwyn lost a few scales during the first attack,” Tommy said. “It was awful. She was trying to force him into a bond.”

“To use his magic,” Eddie concluded. Then, more thoughtfully, “maybe…maybe it’s not the first time this witch has done this. Maybe not a dragon. Her magic is corrupted, as if it’s drawing power from a tainted source.” 

Tommy sighed. “I just don’t understand why she came now. Gwyn could have died if not for Evan, so she wouldn’t be able to force bond Gwyn now unless she was just planning on something worse.” 

Tommy didn’t want to think it, but the death of a dragon always meant the release of a lot of magic. Usually it went to the rider if the rider was alive and present, but the witch could have diverted it to herself. Could she be that desperate to think she could kill a dragon? Maybe she thought that if Gwyn was alive he was still weak from her first attempt. So maybe Eddie was wrong and she had no idea Gwyn had found his rider. 

“I just can’t shake that it feels this familiar,” Eddie said. 

“Well, you’ve probably come across a lot of witches,” Tommy said. 

Eddie chuckled. “Not really. I’m not that attached to the whole witch thing, if I’m honest. I’ve really only started practicing again the last few years when needed.” 

Eddie checked the shed, made some noises that showed how impressed he was by the runes placed around it. 

“Smart doing it this way,” he said. “You couldn’t get the witch that put these here out?” 

Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “Runes aren’t that difficult to create and enchant.” 

“Oh,” Eddie said with a grin. “Right. Rider. Well, I’m glad to help. I should take a look at the dragon, too, see if there’s anything left over from the first spell. Even the tracking spell.” 

They found Christopher up on Gwyn’s back. He was small enough that Gwyn could hold him easily, but even if his wings were back to normal, he probably wouldn’t have been able to fly with him for very long. Evan was laughing and standing by them. He looked lighter than he’d felt since Gwyn had called him back in a panic. 

“Should he be up there?” Eddie asked. 

“It’s fine,” Tommy said. “Gwyn doesn’t seem to mind.” 

“I have a feeling he’s going to be obsessed with dragons after this,” Eddie said with a groan. 

Sure enough, when they approached, Chris called out to his dad. “Dad, I want to be a dragon rider like Buck!” 

“I don’t think it works like that, bud,” Evan was quick to say. “A dragon has to pick you, so maybe it could happen. But maybe not. But, once Gwyn is bigger he’ll take us out flying, how’s that?” 

Tommy wasn’t an expert on kids. He wasn’t around many unless they were involved in a rescue that he and Cyra took a part in, but he’d almost expected for Chris to deflate or to act defiant at being told that he couldn’t just become a dragon rider. Instead, Chris just shrugged his shoulders. A few minutes later, he made his way down from Gwyn. He saw Evan helping him and then Chris hugged himself to Gwyn’s leg and said something too low for Tommy to hear. 

Eddie stepped forward. 

“Hi, Gwyn. I’m Eddie. I’m going to do a quick check on you, okay? Is it okay if I use a little bit of magic?” 

—

Buck could feel Gwyn’s anxiety at Eddie’s mention of magic. Whatever calm had come over him from Christopher’s excitement was fading. Buck should have known that Chris would be overjoyed to meet Gwyn and Cyra. The dragons had been pretty excited by Chris as well and it hadn’t taken very long for Gwyn to let Chris get on his back. 

I trust him, Gwyn. Eddie won’t hurt you. 

If you trust him. Gwyn said it with some trepidation. 

“You won’t use magic on him, will you?” Buck asked. 

“No, not directly,” Eddie said and threw him a small smile. 

Buck moved to stand closer to Tommy and Christopher. Chris was asking lots of questions about dragons and Tommy seemed to be indulging him in giving him answers. 

“So, when are you going to be able to ride Gwyn?” Chris asked Buck. 

“I don’t know. When he’s big enough.” 

“A few more months probably,” Tommy said. “He’s growing pretty quickly.” 

Buck didn’t quite know how to feel about flying on Gwyn. On Cyra — which he’d only done twice — it was with Tommy in the lead. He was excited almost as much as he was nervous for when it might happen.  

He turned to watch Eddie. Buck had only ever gotten to see Eddie use his powers under duress. For the most part, Eddie stuck to making potions. Buck thought it was hilarious that Eddie could actually make any potion perfectly even if he was making it for the first time, but that he absolutely failed at cooking anything at all. He also failed at growing any of the plants he used in his potions. Buck was happy to provide. 

A soft glow began to form around Gwyn and Buck had to stop himself from stepping towards his dragon. Gwyn didn’t seem to be in distress. Eddie walked around her and once he had made it the whole way around, he stopped and stepped back, dropping his hands. 

“I know who the witch is,” Eddie said. 

“What?” Tommy and Buck said at the same time. 

Eddie turned away from Gwyn, the glow around the dragon falling away. 

“Who is it?” Buck asked. 

Eddie looked like he didn’t want to say it, staring at Buck with something apologetic in his gaze. 

“Who?” Buck asked again. 

“Buck, I think it’s Taylor.” 

“Taylor?” Buck repeated. “No. She’s not a witch. She’s a reporter.” 

Eddie fixed him with a look. “Don’t tell me you can’t feel some familiarity in the magic. It’s her, Buck. She’s the witch.”

“Who’s Taylor?” Tommy asked.

Buck couldn’t deny that he’d found the magic familiar the moment he’d gotten off Cyra, but he just couldn’t imagine that it was Taylor or that she was a witch. When he looked to Eddie, he could tell that there wouldn’t be changing Eddie’s mind. Eddie was the brujo after all and if he was insisting it was Taylor then maybe they needed to follow that thread. 

“I wondered sometimes,” Eddie said. “I just never knew for sure if she was a witch or not. But I think she is. I’ve felt her magic before, around you.” 

“Around me? You think she used magic on me?” 

Eddie shook his head. “No. No. Just that sometimes I could tell there was magic clinging to you. But that happens to people all the time. There’s magic everywhere.”

“Right, but you definitely think this is Taylor.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Dude, you may not want to see your ex, but if she’s the one after your dragon, you’re going to have to.” 

“Taylor is your ex?” Tommy asked. He sounded a little strangled when he said it. 

“Biggest mistake ever,” Buck muttered, hanging his head. 

Eddie had the audacity to laugh. “You could say that again. What happens now?” 

Buck looked towards Tommy. Tommy was frowning a little and Cyra was turned towards him. Buck could have given anything to know what they were saying to each other.

“To start I’ll contact the guild,” Tommy said. 

Buck wondered if it would be a bad idea for him to contact Taylor, assuming she hadn’t figured out that Buck was connected to all of this in the first place. He was about to ask, but Tommy had already turned and started walking back to the house. Buck couldn’t help but just stare at his back, at the way that his pants hugged his ass. Tommy didn’t go very far, but he pulled out his phone to make the call and he paced while he did it, occasionally looking in their direction. 

“So,” Eddie said, drawing out the word, “what is going on here?” 

Buck heard Cyra snort. She let out a puff of smoke too. Chris laughed. 

“That’s so cool,” Chris said and he jumped into a babble of questions directed at Cyra. 

“Buck?” Eddie asked. 

“What?” 

Cyra walked a few paces away from them, turned and shot fire out into the sky. Just a small orange flame that flew into the sky and disappeared into smoke. Cyra returned a moment later and Chris just stared at her in awe. Buck was a little awed himself and he could tell that Eddie had his own questions. They were firefighters, of course there were questions when fire was involved. 

It wasn’t unheard of for dragons to have been the cause of a fire that the department was called in for, but it happened less than people thought. Dragons were smart and self-controlled and they didn’t go around just shooting their fire around. From what he’d learned from Gwyn the younger dragons were kept far from humans for many reasons including learning to control their fire. 

“You and Tommy?” Eddie asked, head tilted, eyebrow raised. 

“What about me and Tommy?” 

Eddie chuckled. “So it is like that. I like him better than…well, Taylor for sure.” 

“We’re…I don’t even know what we are,” Buck admitted. “We haven’t really talked about it. Any time I even think about bringing it up we just kinda…” he trailed off and ducked his head sure that his cheeks were pink. 

When he looked at Eddie again, Eddie just shook his head. Tommy was more than Buck had ever expected. He was sweet and hot and confident and there was a lot about him that Buck couldn’t believe was real because he had never met someone that welcomed Buck as well as Tommy had. And the sex…wow was the sex just mind-blowing. So, yes, Buck wanted more than just hooking up or whatever it was that they were doing. He just wasn’t sure what Tommy wanted and if it was the same thing Buck did. 

Tommy walked back towards them still on the phone. 

“They’d like to speak with you,” he said to Eddie, extending his phone towards him. 

“Me. Uh, sure,” Eddie said. 

“What happened?” Buck asked. 

“They just want to hear it from him,” Tommy said. “So this ex of yours, would you be able to contact her?” 

“I — I don’t know if she’ll answer,” Buck said. “Things didn’t exactly end well.” 

“Oh?” 

Buck let out a sigh. The thing was that he knew Eddie was probably right. Once he’d said it and Buck had felt out for what little remained of the magic, he’d known it was familiar in some way or another. It brought this whole new layer to his relationship with Taylor and Buck was left wondering about a lot of things…things that started to make sense if Taylor was a witch. 

“I, uh, I kissed someone else. No, I was kissed by someone else when I was really drunk, not that I tried to stop it. I didn’t tell her about it, which was…stupid. I was just trying to hold on to something I thought I wanted and when she found out, it was really messy. You know, I was itchy for days after the fact and my couch broke. I kept losing my keys and I cut myself every time I shaved. I mean…for at least a month I just had a bunch of minor inconveniences day in and day out. I thought it was karma but now…” 

“An enchantment,” Tommy said. 

“Yeah,” Buck said with a chuckle. “I suppose so.” 

Eddie had told him as much, he remembered, but Buck had refused to admit it could be true maybe because he felt that guilty about that one kiss with Lucy that he’d just wanted the bad karma. 

“And this was your last girlfriend?” Tommy asked. 

“Um, yeah,” Buck said. 

Tommy hummed. He looked like he didn’t know what he should say. Eddie saved him by getting off the phone and bringing it back to Tommy. Tommy looked at him in a way that said they would continue that conversation later.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 14: Gussied Up

“Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me.”

Polly’s blunt statement almost makes me drop my teacup. It’s late and Thomas is late as usual. At this point I don’t even bother waiting up, though I still feel anxious about his safe return.

“Will Tommy be back?” Finn asks from the table, almost slumped over the book he’s reading.

“Yes, Finn. Now go to sleep.” I bookmark the page and pat his head. “That’s enough thinking for today.”

The young Shelby shuffles down the hall to his room and retires for the night. I’m almost to the point of wanting to retire to bed myself. But the door creaks open and my thoughts are interrupted by Thomas.

“Shh,” Polly hushes him as he closes the door.

Thomas throws down a wad of cash onto the table. “Freddie didn’t want your money. Now the coppers are saying that if we don’t turn him in, they’ll arrest Ada. That’s what compassion gets you, Pol.” He gives her a stern glare. “From now on we do it my way.”

Polly doesn’t back down. “Or what?”

He doesn’t answer. Thomas just keeps his head lowered and exits through the side door. Polly’s fierce gaze doesn't waver from where Thomas was just standing. I calmly set down my cup and follow him to the back alley, where he’s already lit up another cigarette.

“You’ve got siblings,” Thomas says. “Is life with them as crazy as this?”

“Hard to say. Most of the time I don’t even know what city my brothers are in.” They’re old enough to work for Uncle Colon.

“He said he loves her,” Thomas sighs heavily and takes a deep puff.

“Maybe he’s telling the truth. There is such a thing as love, Thomas.”

The gangster stiffens and turns his head sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

This proves my point. I hold up steady hands to show no hostility. “You’re not exactly the emotional type.”

He grunts and kicks the dirt. “There’s more to life than love.”

I slowly shake my head and dare to step closer. “It makes me sad to see you so closed-minded. I do not pity you, Thomas. I only wish you knew how good of a man you could become.”

Thomas’ brow creases. “I’m already a great man.”

“No. Good.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Very much so.”

His eyebrows rise expectantly. “What is it?”

This isn’t something one can learn in a split second. Thomas is too stubborn and angry right now to understand.

“You’ll find out one day.”

With that I pat him lightly on the shoulder and pivot to walk back inside to my room.

The next morning is racing day. How do I know? Because that’s all everyone’s talking about. There’s been too much foot traffic in the kitchen for me not to notice. Thomas is the last one to rise and takes a seat in the corner.

“Morning,” I greet lightly.

He gives a low grunt. “Morning.”

“Didn’t sleep too well?” I ask as I wipe down the ever-dusty counter.

“How did you know?”

“Heard you fighting in your sleep again. Do you want any breakfast?”

Thomas shakes his head and pours himself a drink. “‘M fine.”

“Half a glass of whiskey is hardly a supplemental breakfast, Thomas. Here, have some eggs.”

The gangster gives my offering a bored stare but eventually complies. I get the feeling he wants to be alone to process today’s events.

Once I grab my clutch and stuff my pistol inside I gesture to Finn. “Come on, Finn. Let’s go for a walk.”

Outside there’s even more energy buzzing around as more Peaky Blinders chatter about today. Some of them watch me with slight suspicion but drop it when they see I’m with Finn. 

“Shelby, who’s your girlfriend?” One man asks with a smirk.

Poor Finn’s cheeks go red. Before someone else can taunt him I decide to step in.

“I, his tutor, am taking a walk and Finn offered to join me. Is there a problem?”

Another Blinder snickers suggestively. “Sure. Tutor. Nice one, Finn- Ow!”

I make quick work to step on his toe with my heel and continue down the dusty road with Finn following close by. Once we’ve turned the corner he lets out a constricted groan.

“Sorry, Verena. ‘S not that you’re, y’know, pretty ‘nd all, but-”

“I’m well over ten years older than you,” I finish smoothly. “No offense taken, Finn. My brothers tease me about things like this all the time.”

“Are they all married?”

“Close to it. Conor, Liam, and Eoin all were married three years ago. Nicolaas tied the knot last fall, and Abel got engaged last May. Since I’m the youngest I suppose I get a few more years ‘til father will start pressuring me to wed as well. Mother’s given up on trying to get me to settle.”

We keep walking until we circle back to the house. Hopefully Thomas has calmed down a bit- And in the process seems to have cleaned himself up rather handsomely. His suit is freshly pressed and he’s clean shaven.

“You look spiffy,” I compliment as I set my clutch down. “I’m sure Grace will love it!”

“Looking good, Tommy,” John agrees.

He nods at our approval. “I’m picking Grace up at 9, the race is at 10. Don’t be late.”

I frown. “We’re not all riding together?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Tommy’s going ahead while we have a last-minute rally with the boys by the factory. Don’t worry, they won’t bite.” He gets a wide grin. “You can ride up front with us.”

“Why are you coming?” John asks.

“Never been to a race before. Thought I might see what all the fuss is about.”

I myself am wearing a borrowed dress from Polly. She said she hasn’t worn it for years and that I mine as well take it. The dress is chic black intricate patterns and a fringe skirt. John and Arthur are sporting fine suits too. Aw, the Shelbys are all dressed up! It’s delightful. In ten minutes everyone’s ready and we hop into a truck. The only slight disappointment is seeing Thomas drive off alone. I truly am glad he’s happy to go with her. She seems like a lovely girl. But why do I feel so… empty?

“You alright?” John nudges me.

“Yes, just over-thinking.”

“You’re upset that Tommy doesn’t like you, eh?”

I roll my eyes. “You know perfectly well how he sees me. Just ‘the help.’ He likes Grace, not me, which he has shown by asking her to the races. I know I shouldn’t be upset, but I am. I will deal with it and let go.” I shoot a warning glare at the three Shelby brothers. “And, if any of you even think of uttering any word of this, I’ll gut you before you can blink.”

Arthur backs off with almost comical alarm. “Wow. Alright, then. Don’t piss off the American.”

I smirk. “Keep on my good side and I’ll spread word back home about your new pub. Maybe my father can partner with you.”

Arthur’s face lights up. “Ah, you’ve heard! Yes, my new pride and joy! You’re welcome any time, Steenstra.”

The truck pulls up to the factory where the rest of the Peaky Blinders calvary awaits. They jump in the back and we drive the rest of the way with little spoken words. The racetrack itself is much more crowded than I imagined. All this attention for a horse race? It must be good entertainment… or good money. 

“Attention!” Arthur calls after everyone piles out. “Now this is called your briefing before going over the top. Steenstra, this is no place for a woman. Please step out.”

I gawk in resistance. “What about Finn?”

“He’s a Shelby. He stays.”

“He’s 11.”

“He still stays. Now run off. Go wait outside the entrance ‘till we’ve finished.”

Wait outside? Why did I even come if I’m supposed to be a lookout? I’m not even doing anything! I don’t even get to see a single race-

“Going in, miss?”

It’s a stranger. A young man in his early twenties I’d say, along with his date. 

“Um, I’m afraid I have no money for entry.”

His date gets a wide smile and she grabs my arm. “No problem! You can join us! Right, Harry?”

‘Harry’ doesn’t seem to mind and the woman all but drags me inside the building. We go up multiple stairs and now I can finally see what all the fuss is about. Inside there’s a giant racetrack set up with a row of gates on one end. That must be where the horses take off.

“Here! This is the best spot!” the bubbly girl says and leads us to the front of a box. “I’m Roxie! What’s your name?”

“Verena,” I answer politely.

“What brings you to the races?” Harry asks.

How to phrase this? “I was supposed to be here with some friends but they lost me.”

“Aw, hon. That’s too bad. You can still enjoy the race up here.”

I give them both a sincere smile of gratitude. “Thank you, I appreciate it. Birmingham can be a tricky place to find kindness.”

Roxie scoffs. “No need to tell me twice! You’re American, huh? Are there lots of cowboys there?”

I stifle a laugh. “Is that the talk about us? No, no. The cowboys are primarily in the west and southern states. I’m from the east coast.”

“I heard there’s a new law banning alcohol?” 

Ah, yes. For the past few months there’s been an increasing pressure on breweries to halt production. What a laugh.

“Yes, the proposed Eighteenth Amendment will initiate prohibition.”

Harry chuckles. “I’m sure you Americans love that idea, hm?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t get me started. My father runs a brewery company. This whole-”

“Steenstra! There you are!”

John rushes up and grabs my arm to tugs me away just as I make out a quick goodbye to my new friends. 

“Go go! We got to find Tommy!”

“You got the money?” I pant as we weave through the crowd.

“We got the money!”

He leads me to a room downstairs where there’s live jazz music and wealthy people dressed in rich clothes. Then there’s Grace, wearing a gorgeous red dress with a matching hat and patterned shawl. Her appearance highlights how much older she is than me. It’s no wonder Thomas would fall for her.

“That dress is stunning!” I comment when John and Arthur go to talk with Thomas.

Her blush almost matches her dress. “Thank you. At first I thought it was a bit much, but I liked the color.”

Thomas likes it too because his eyes can hardly stray from her. I’m surprised his attention to the operation is faltering so easily.

“We chased the Lees across the track and down to Devon Road,” Arthur explains. “We got every penny back.” He takes his own moment to get a look at Grace. “Nice dress. You can wear it in my pub.”

“Buy the boys a drink,” Thomas orders with a proud smile. “Anyone hurt?”

“Only a few cuts and bruises.”

He nods and gives Grace a smirk. “Off we go, Lady Sarah.”

And off they do go, to waltz across the dancefloor with such ease you’d think it was a romance flicker. Although this is one flicker that seems to tear into me little by little.

John picks up on this and starts to lead me away. “Come on, Steenstra. Best not hurt yourself any more by watching. Let’s go.”

He’s right. This is just making things worse.

“You’re right. Let’s go.” I put on a smile and walk confidently beside them back to the truck. “In America our dances are much more, shall we say, rambunctious. Besides, this place seems to stuffy anyway.”

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals: Something Old, Something New

In The Woods Somewhere x Professional//Victim crossover AU

*Holds out Buck content in my hand like animal feed* Pss pss psss come and get it @apokolyps suggested "the professionals" as the title of the crossover and when I pitched it to @victimeyez he was like "seriously? that's what I titled our shared doc." Addendum: This was written before the withdrawals sequence, so there's a bit of incongruity with Fletcher giving Tommy opioids and him not wanting to take them. At the time this was written, Pro/Vic was dealing with Tommy being over-drugged. Content warnings: Knives/cutting, long term captivity, reference to drugging, just a coupla boys who have been through a lot

“You just need to let me get this out of my system.”

Fletcher had led Tommy down to the basement, hand on his back to guide him. There was already a pair of chairs set out in an otherwise vacant area. They sat across from each other as Fletcher explained the situation to Tommy, holding a knife loosely in their hand, arms draped casually over their knees.

Tommy swallowed anxiously. 

You knew this was coming. 

“Yeah, I - I understand,” He mumbled, averting his eyes from Fletcher’s watchful gaze. He was struggling to get used to Fletcher’s needs - it’s not like Caius ever sat him down and let him know he was going to be punished. He just knew it once he started in on him. 

Fletcher held out their left hand. Tommy swallowed and put his hand in theirs. Fletcher held it firmly - not squeezing, just keeping it steady. They lined up their knife with the back of his arm, just above the wrist. Tommy turned his head away before the skin broke, before the line formed, before the blood welled up and spilled over. 

The pain was sharp and fiery. Tommy hissed air through his teeth. He glanced sideways at Fletcher, trying to read their expression. If he gave them what they wanted out of this, maybe they would be satisfied for a while. Maybe they could wrap it up sooner than later.

Fletcher was just focused on their work, not even devouring Tommy’s reactions like he expected them to be. Maybe it was the sounds - he could try to play it up, but Fletcher would likely see through any faked reactions. Should he beg? Or did they want him to sit quietly and take it?

Fletcher lined up the next cut. 

Tommy tensed in spite of himself, gritting his teeth on a harsh groan as the knife bit into him again. He panted shallowly, trying to focus on flowing with the pain instead of against it, but the next cut hit him just as hard. A cry snuck its way out of his throat, and he cut it off with a whine. He tried to go slack, but couldn’t uncurl the fingers of his free hand from where his nails dug into the chair, and couldn’t stop his legs from shaking. Tommy sniffled and whimpered, knees knocking together as Fletcher ran their thumb through the rivulets of blood, grazing over the fresh wounds.

“Relax,” Fletcher breathed. They brought his arm closer to examine, still not looking at Tommy’s face. “Try to keep your arm still, at least. Don’t want me to… hang on.”

Fletcher dropped Tommy’s wrist and switched their knife to their non-dominant hand to pull a phone from their pocket. They looked at the screen, then, with their knife hand, curled their finger at Tommy, gesturing him to come closer.

Tommy had cautiously pulled his arm in towards his chest, ready to relinquish it again upon request. Somewhat unsure, he scooted forward.

Fletcher closed their knife one-handed and tucked it into their shirt pocket, then clamped their hand over Tommy’s mouth. They put a finger to their lips and answered the call.

“Hey, Buck,” they said in a cheery tone. They half-turned away from Tommy in some semblance of having a private conversation.  “What’s going on?”

Tommy did his best to hold his arm together, but the pain swimming in his head mixed with the blood loss was starting to make him nauseous. He could feel his skin getting tacky as the blood dried, gluing one hand over the shreds up his arm. Fletcher’s hand covered his nose and mouth in one punishing grasp, and he struggled not to make a sound.

“Why do you need me to do it?” Fletcher asked the person on the other end. Whatever the response was prompted them to roll their eyes.

Tommy was running short on air. He didn’t want to interrupt, but he involuntarily started to squirm. Fletcher looked over at him and moved their hand enough to uncover his nose. Tommy sucked in a breath and did his best to look grateful through his eyes alone.

“Well, I’m not signing anything,” Fletcher said, turning away again. “But I can give you the cash.” A pause. “Yeah.” A smirk. “Mm… maybe. I don’t know that there’s anything that I want from you. Maybe something will come up… Oh, relax. I’ll give you the cash. You have to come get it though… I’m not driving all the fuck out there - you want the money... I don’t know, figure something out - borrow Nico’s… That’s up to you… That’s the deal, man.” 

There was a longer pause. Fletcher rolled their eyes again.

“Alright. When are you coming?” Fletcher twisted the hand on Tommy’s face, pushing his head to the side with it, to look at their watch. “Okay, see you then, Buckaroo.”

Fletcher hung up the phone and let go of Tommy’s face.

“Sorry about that interruption,” they said, returning their attention to Tommy. “Anyway. We still have some time.” They put out their hand. “Where were we?”

Tommy’s entire forearm was wrapped in gauze. He kept it tucked in close to his middle. 

Fletcher broke out the good stuff for Tommy this time - gave him two oxy and told him to sleep it off. 

He must’ve played his part well.

Tommy turned the pills over in his hand. 

Get drugged up and get out of the way. Get drugged up so you don’t know what’s being done to you.

“Can I, um… can I just do one?” he asked.

Fletcher cocked their head. “Really?”

Tommy gave a small shrug and shrank down. “I’ll take both if you want me to…”

“I mean… up to you, I guess,” Fletcher said. They took one of the pills and returned it to the bottle. “Don’t come crying to me later though; I’ll just give you acetaminophen.”

The single pill still helped subside the pain, and Tommy did manage to take a nap for a while. He awoke with a yelp when he rolled over onto his arm.

Tommy sat up in bed, clutching his arm to his chest, waiting for the throbbing to die down. It passed after a few moments, returning to the familiar radiating heat of a fresh wound, and Tommy was left with a dry mouth and a headache. Probably dehydrated. He stood from his bed, only feeling woozy for a second, and made his way to the kitchen.

He froze when he passed through the living room.

Fletcher was talking to a man with long brown hair. It was tucked behind his ears, allowing Tommy to see the scars on his face - one across his nose, one beside his eye.

Obviously someone intimately familiar with violence. If he was friends with Fletcher, violence was probably his business. Both of them turned their heads to look at Tommy, who immediately averted his eyes. 

Tommy regretted not staying in his room. Fletcher had probably intended for him to be asleep through whatever dealings they had going on.

Oops.

Buck was no longer a captive, and all the trainees who tormented him here had long since moved on, but he still didn’t want to run into any of Fletcher’s new best and brightest of the criminal underworld. He immediately dropped his gaze to the floor when he saw a man about his age stumble into view, but his sights froze on a familiar cuff around the man’s ankle.

Buck’s eyes slowly traveled back up to his face. 

His hair was black and curly, his eyes a light green when they caught the sunlight through the window. He looked nothing like Buck, and yet it was like looking into a mirror.

The same averted gaze, head down, shoulders up, arms tucked in close, fingers working at the fabric of his loose shirt. He even had a fucking scar on his face, marring its way down past his right eye. The collar was a new feature; that was never something Fletcher made him wear around the house. 

“S-Sorry,” Tommy said. “I’ll - I’m just getting water, from the kitchen.”

Fletcher ran a hand over their face.

“Fletcher.”

“Yes, Buck?”

“Who the fuck is that?”

Tommy blanched, tucking tail, ready to retreat back to his room. He would drink from the bathroom faucet if he had to. It wasn’t his intent to interrupt anything, and the fear of retribution on top of the throbbing pain in his arm had him anxious to remove himself.

“Hey - hey…” The first one was angry, the second one was gentle. Buck held up his hands towards Tommy. “Please don’t leave yet.”

Tommy was frozen stiff. He slowly turned back and looked first at Buck - he had a small, somewhat forced smile and sympathetic eyes. Almost too sympathetic, like he was on the verge of tears. Then at Fletcher, whose direction was the one he really needed to follow - they looked like things weren’t going their way.

“I think it’s rude to have a conversation about the man in front of him, don’t you?” Fletcher said to Buck. 

“You got another one?” Buck said to them in disbelief.

Another one? There was someone before me? What happened to them?

“This is a completely different situation,” Fletcher waved the comment off. “He’s practically a rescue.”

“A r-” Buck cut himself off, putting his head in his hands. He steadied himself before looking back at Fletcher and saying, “What happened to his arm?”

Fletcher pursed their lips and didn’t answer.

“Fletcher-”

“This is why I didn’t want you two to see each other,” Fletcher said, throwing their hands up. “You’re gonna get all… ehh.”

Buck was at a loss. He kept looking between Fletcher and Tommy.

“You can’t…” Buck trailed off.

“You know I can.” Fletcher answered.

“How can you expect me to walk away knowing about this?”

“One foot in front of the other,” Fletcher scoffed. “Unless you want to stay.”

Buck paled at the thought. He kept staring at Tommy like a solution would come to him.

“How about you take your money and go home to the nice apartment I gave you, and be glad you’re not in his place, hm?” Fletcher held out a thick envelope to him.

Tommy eyed Buck again. Not in his place? Was this guy the previous one? How could that be? How was he free? Why would he come back?

Buck stood motionless. He was staring at the envelope, but his focus wasn’t on it.

“Buck,” Fletcher called his attention. “There’s nothing you can do, so don’t feel bad about it.”

Buck opened his mouth, then sighed and closed it again. He looked at Tommy, his eyes full of sadness and a desperate longing. Then, a resolve came across his face, and he turned back to Fletcher.

“You said I could come back to the lodge at any time,” Buck said.

Fletcher lowered the envelope back to their side. “I did. As long as you call ahead.”

“What’s your name?” Buck asked the stranger.

“Uh…” Tommy fiddled with the collar of his shirt, looking at Fletcher for guidance. “It’s… complicated.”

Buck raised his eyebrows at Fletcher.

“It’s… Tommy,” Fletcher grumbled.

Buck took a second to make the connection, then asked, “Did you name him that?”

“No,” Fletcher snapped. “I want him to change it. He just hasn’t picked a new one yet.”

“You didn’t let me pick my name.”

“Oh my god,” Fletcher groaned.

“Tommy,” Buck said earnestly, looking him in the eye. “I’m going to be back.”

The visitor had an intense look of determination on his face. It might have been more impactful if Tommy had any idea what in the flying fuck was going on.

Buck reached out his hand for the envelope, but Fletcher held it away.

“What the fuck does that mean?” they demanded.

“You said I could-”

“Are you planning something?” Fletcher interrupted. “Don’t be fucking stupid; you’ve got a good thing going. You don’t want to lose that. You don’t know the situation here. And maybe you’ve forgotten…” Fletcher stepped closer, entering Buck’s space to stare him down. “...To be afraid of me.”

Buck shied away slightly, leaning his head back, but he didn’t retreat. “I haven’t,” he said quietly. His eyes drifted to Tommy, then back to Fletcher. “You wanted me to visit. I’ll visit.”

Fletcher studied Buck’s face for a moment, not speaking. Tommy watched them both, trying to read the intricacies at play, trying to decipher the history between the two of them to understand the dynamic. 

Fletcher held up the envelope between them. “I’ll be seeing you, then.”

Buck took it. “You will.”

Buck nodded at Tommy, lingered a moment, then disappeared out the door. Fletcher strolled to the window, arms folded across their chest, and watched Buck drive away. Once the car had disappeared into the trees, they turned back to Tommy.

Tommy’s stomach dropped. He suddenly felt like that man’s presence had been offering some form of protection, like Fletcher was trying to behave in front of him. But now it was just the two of them, and whatever punishment was brewing in Fletcher’s mind.

“I thought you were going to take a nap,” Fletcher said.

Tommy opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He swallowed dryly and tried again. “I was, for a little bit. I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Go get your water.”

Tommy obediently turned and headed into the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water and drank it down with trembling hands. Fletcher walked in behind him, but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to turn around.

“Look,” Fletcher said finally. “Buck was… in your situation in the past, but he came into that situation under very different circumstances. He’s out now, but only because of… extreme circumstances. It won’t happen for you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

He got out.

“You’re better off now than you were before,” Fletcher said. “I think you should focus on that.”

Tommy’s heart sank just as quickly as it had leapt. He ran his hand over his bandages and nodded.

“What were the circumstances?” he asked.

“He found this place, and it was a ‘you’ve seen too much so I can’t let you go,’ situation. I decided not to kill him, and just kept him here instead. Then he… later on… he saved my life. So I repaid him by giving him back his life. Or, a new one. But we have an understanding; there are conditions.”

Tommy looked at Fletcher now.

“He saved your life?” Tommy asked, incredulous. “Why?”

Fletcher snickered, bearing that dangerous smile of theirs. “Interesting word choice,” they said, strolling closer, closing Tommy in against the sink. “Not how did he save my life, just why would he? What, you wouldn’t do the same?”

Tommy shrank back. “I… I don’t…” 

“It’s okay,” Fletcher said. “We haven’t gotten to know each other well enough yet.” They cuffed Tommy lightly under the chin. “Plus, there are worse people than me. Buck had to make a choice, and he made the right one.”

“And he… comes back? On his own?” Tommy missed Caius sometimes, in a comfortably miserable kind of way, but he didn’t want to even entertain the idea of returning to that lonely house to visit.

Fletcher shrugged and allowed Tommy space again. “Not usually.”

Tommy thought about how earnestly Buck had looked at him. How he had walked out the door unimpeded and left on his own. Tommy tried to heed Fletcher’s warning not to get his hopes up, but a small spark within him flickered anyway.

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome–hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slighlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @aqua-blogging  @utopian819 @whumpinggoodtime @pretty-face-breaker

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: During an argument Joel says hurtful things to you that he instantly regrets.]

"Please...forgive me. I don't care how mad I ever get again or how stressed I may be, I promise you I won't ever say anything to hurt you again."

TW: mention of suicide

Joel wanted to take off on his own to a dangerous town to try and find his brother. Practically begging him you asked him to wait another week so you both could go together with more weapons that would be given to you. He refused, he was a stubborn man once he made up his mind on something. You understood his dedication on finding his brother, having a brother yourself whom you were very close to, you would've done the same. A year into the virus your brother Jack had committed suicide, right after was when you met Joel. Joel knew about it, he knew how much guilt you felt about it. Leaving your brother alone not realizing how he was feeling then later on being the one to find him, he knew how much it all traumatized you. Joel gave you comfort when you needed it most. You did your best to comfort Joel as he waited to hear from his brother, you could see how much it took a toll on him. You cared for him and you knew he cared for you, you hated not knowing how to help him but couldn't stand the idea of him walking right into danger.

"Joel, you can't leave like this, not now-"

"I'm going. I have to." He paced around the room packing a bag.

"We barely have any ammo, they'll deliver more to us this week. At least let me go with you-"

"No," he stopped in his tracks staring directly at you.

"I ain't letting you go, this is for me to do. Enough ammo or not," he continued packing as you sighed.

"Joel, please. You're not thinking straight, I understand you're worried about Tommy but this isn't the way!" You yelled following him around.

"You're being unreasonable-"

"It's not unreasonable!" He roared loudly turning to you.

"Maybe Tommy is ok maybe we still have time so we can be more prepared, I can help you,"

"Yeah and what if there's no time left and he's waiting on me," you shook your head with a sigh.

"Joel, maybe Tommy-"

"Maybe Tommy nothing- just cause you left your brother to die doesn't mean I will." Your eyes widened shocked by what he had just said. There's no way Joel would use something like this to hurt you, at least you didn't think he would.

"Shit.." Joel muttered stopping his tracks squeezing his eyes shut, he couldn't believe what he had just said and looked back up at you. The rush he felt all caught up to him so quickly, he hadn't even realized it.

"Jesus christ, I didn't mean-" before he could finish his sentence you unexpectedly smacked him across the face barely making him move. A pool of tears in your eyes, Joel felt the sting of guilt but, before he could say anything you ran out of the room.

Going down the stairway you began to cry, a mixture of shock and anger, you couldn't believe it as you stopped to catch your breath.

"That son of a bitch," you whispered to yourself before hearing him call out for you from behind. Looking back you saw him rushing down the stairs to get to you.

"Listen, I swear I didn't mean that, I don't know where the hell that came from-"

"Joel, just go. Leave and do what you want."

"I'm not leaving anywhere." He spoke low, he knew he messed up and refused to leave you that way.

"Look...I'm sorry,"

Youaa Asss chuckled shaking your head in response to his apology.

"Don't be. Hey..maybe you're right. Maybe if I was as persistent as you are on top of your brother then my brother wouldn't have-"

"Don't you say that," he quickly cut you off stepping closer to you.

"Don't you for a second think any of that was your fault, you understand me?" His eyes were focused on you, his brows furrowed, he couldn't allow you to think anything like this. It was far from the truth.

"Come back inside, let's talk about this..please.." "Talk about what? You made yourself very clear, Joel-"

"I was wrong Dammit, I wasn't thinking when I said that." He almost yelled before catching his tone and quieting down.

"Doesn't matter," you rolled your eyes.

"It matters to me, I'm not gonna have you thinking something like that."

You sighed looking away pressing your lips together.

"Look at me," he whispered leaning in close holding your hands in his, but you couldn't bring yourself to face him. Pulling your hands away you shook your head, you weren't ready to speak to him, instead you took a step back before walking away from him.

"Y/n please.." you could hear the desperation in his voice as he called out but it didn't matter. He took a deep breath watching you walk off, he was pissed at himself.

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying." He called out to you once more as you walked, assuring you he would be by your side.

Hours later you returned to the apartment you both shared, as soon as you walked in he jumped up from his chair eager to see you.

"Where you been?" He asked as you walked past him.

You didn't respond.

Instead he watched as you took off your jacket and sat on the couch grabbing a book to read.

He moved closer to you and crouched down before you on the couch, you refused to look up from the book.

"So you just ain't gonna talk to me huh?"

You crossed your leg over and leaned in the opposite direction from him. Never had you given him silent treatment before. He sighed and stood up, hovering over you, his hand leaning behind your head on the couch.

"You talk to me whenever you're ready to, baby" he leaned in tilting his head to kiss you, but before his lips could land on your cheek you turned your head away quickly.

"Alright, I deserve that." He whispered as he looked down and sighed. Without saying another word he backed away and walked toward the bed. Peaking over looking at him you watched as he lay in bed, his back to you, he tossed and turned a bit before laying straight on his back and sitting back up.

"God dammit, say something to me, anything. Curse me out, call me a damn name." You slammed your book shut and walked to the kitchen where he followed.

"Look, I know I fucked up today. I know how much Jack meant-"

"Don't mention his name!" You suddenly screamed turning back to him.

"You don't talk about Jack, ever!" You stared up at him with so much emotion in your eyes, tears building up, you did your best not to break down and quickly turned away from him. Looking down you squeezed your eyes shut, it was hard to hold in and surely you began to cry. He could hear you sniffling, taking quick gasps as you struggled to remain silent until you felt him slowly move close behind you. It killed him hearing you this way, it killed him knowing he caused you any pain.

"Hey.." he whispered.

"Come here," you could feel his warm breath on your neck, you shook your head covering your eyes, still hurt by his words but wanting his comfort all at once.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he gently turned you toward him and pulled you into his arms.

You let him hold you as you hid your face leaning into his chest, you felt him kiss the top of your head. Although you were so hurt inside, you knew how much he regretted what he had said.

"I was being a dick, there's no excuse." He continued.

"Y/n look at me," you did as he asked without saying a word.

"Please...forgive me. I don't care how mad I ever get again or how stressed I may be, I promise you I won't ever say anything to hurt you again." You could hear the sincerity in his voice. Silently looking down, you slowly nodded. You knew what Joel had said wasn't the man you knew, you could see the regret in his eyes every time he looked at you.

"Under one condition," you looked up at him.

"You listen to me when I'm trying to help you, give me a chance and that I go with you whenever you go to find Tommy." Joel instantly became hesitant, the last thing he wanted to do was put you in any danger but he knew you wouldn't give in.

"Deal," he whispered before leaning in and kissing your forehead.