#LIZZIE IS STILL DARK GREEN

[spideriot]

NONE OF THE BAMBOOZLERS ARE FIRST OUT THE CANARY CURSE IS SO NO MORE MOTHER FUCKERS BAMBOOZLERS WINNERS POV YAAAHOOOOOOOO

[randomshyperson]

Favorite Star - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: During halftime at the Golden Globes, two guests find an empty room. Or the one where Lizzie's dress is driving you crazy.

Warnings; (+18), semi-public smut, bottom!Lizzie, dirty talking, implied secret relationship, just sinful. | Words: 1.437k

A/N-> This is actually fluff because I'm a sweetheart and Lizzie's face after losing another award made me very upset. And as the saying goes, the devil works fast but fanfic writers work faster.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

You've been teasing her.

All day, even before the awards began, you filled her cell phone with selfies and short videos of getting dressed in your attire - A dark green suit that hugged your body just right and was chosen to match her eyes, giving plenty of material for every rumor that has been circling about the two of you. Then on the red carpet, with intense stares and hidden smirks in her direction that your Agent probably wouldn't approve of. When you finally greeted her, you even dared to whisper how breathtaking she looked next to her ear and Lizzie should have won an acting award right there for covering the way her body shook at the compliment. 

The Golden Globes party was as full as usual, and it was blistering hot and tedious. She still had to deal with an annoying host, and when the break finally happened, Elizabeth wasn't the only one who breathed a sigh of relief that the performance had been interrupted.

She made her way through the crowd towards the toilets, offering polite smiles to any of the known guests she crossed glances with and somehow, perhaps because she caught your eye before standing up, Lizzie knew you were following her.

Her heart leaped in her chest when she felt her wrist being gently grabbed. She caught a glimpse of your dilated pupils before you took the lead, holding her hand and guiding her into the first empty room you could find.

You let go of her hand to wrap your arms around her waist, a gentle push to have her against the closed door. Lizzie was still blushing because she was sure Meryl Streep had seen the whole thing.

Your lips were on hers in the blink of an eye, and all she could do was sigh, her eyes closing on instinct. Fuck, she missed this. It seemed like forever since you last kissed, Lizzie was almost beginning to think she'd imagined it.

When you broke apart, you were a little breathless, your eyes shining in her direction filled her stomach with butterflies.

"Hello, gorgeous." You greeted her with a smile, your hands stroking her sides. "Lizzie, this dress is... fuck."

She blushed at your affected tone of voice, smiling shyly. Her hands went to the collar of your dress shirt, and she stared back at you with the same intensity.

"I'm glad you like it." She whispers even though the room is empty and the noise of the party outside is enough to drown out the sounds inside. "Do you know what the best part is? How easy it comes off..." She teases naughty an inch away from your lips, pleased with the shaky sigh that escapes you. Your hands tighten a little more firmly around her waist and Lizzie bites her lip before instinctively thrusting her hips towards you. The cue is answered immediately - You grab her dress to put up a little so your thigh can fit between her legs, giving her something to grind against. But instead of giving in completely, she’s all too aware of where she is and the short time you both have before the end of the break. So Lizzie fiddles with your tie. "We can't. Not here."

You pout, the hands on her hips giving a tentative pull, forcing her to grind down into your flexing thigh, and her determined gaze falters into an aroused expression, the blood flowing not only to her cheeks but down her body, at a speed that makes her gasp for air. The hot knot on her lower belly making her dizzier by the second.

"Why wait, when you want it so badly?" You challenge back as if you knew how about the ache between her legs. You lean in to attack her collarbone with kisses that turn her into a panting mess, struggling to keep her eyes open. You gently bite the most sensitive spot behind her ear that you have learned to memorize and Lizzie lets out a soft whimper, her hips thrusting forward on instinct.

But there's movement outside. Footsteps and a soft bell. Break time is about to be over. Lizzie grumbles, the firm hands on your shoulder pushing you gently.

"We have to go." She says, but you don't let go, you pull her face to yours and kiss her hard. Your tongue makes her knees go weak and the only support is your thigh between her legs. She whines again, wishing she wasn’t wearing a dress at all. "Baby, they'll notice-" She manages to pant between your firm kisses, but she's grinding against you with a little more frenzy in the next second. Your hands move under her dress and Lizzie lets her face fall into the space of your neck, unable to care about the lipstick staining the collar of your shirt.

She choked on a moan when suddenly, your fingers reached forward - you just pushed the fabric of her already ruined panties aside and sank them inside her without warning. The throaty moan that escapes her is muffled on your skin.

It's ridiculous how helpless she is; riding your fingers in chase of her climax in near despair. And you're not gentle either, your thrusts are deep and quick inside her because you can't afford to prolong this and the second warning bell will ring soon. The cameras will be turned on again, your chairs will be empty, and more gossip about a possible relationship between the Marvel stars will surface in the media.

But Lizzie is coming hard against your hand, so she can't care about any of that right now.

It's one of the quickest orgasms she's ever had in her life, but she doesn't have time to feel embarrassed about it. You remove your hand to suck your fingers clean as she tries to breathe normally again, her hands gripping your shoulders so she doesn't slip to the floor due to her shaky legs.

You turn your face to her next, kissing her intensely and Lizzie moans at the taste of herself on your tongue. You smile as you break away.

"I kinda wanna skip the party and take you home, Miss Olsen." You let her know sweetly, and Lizzie lets out a short, breathy chuckle. 

But the second bell rings, and the cameras have been turned on. She curses quietly, and you help her to stand up properly.

"Come on, let me help you with this." You ask, your hands pulling her face to lessen the mess that has become her lipstick as she tries to do the same with you. 

But she knows, she knows for sure that her worn-out dreamy expression, the mess in her hair, will give away what she’s been up to. And that not only the other guests, but the fans will know too.

She swallows dryly, tugging at your hand. "They'll know."

You hesitate before giving her a small smile. "Is that so bad, Lizzie?"

She takes a deep breath, her lips cracking into a small smile. "I just... hoped to share the news in a different way."

You absorb her words for a moment, trying to ignore the warm happiness blossoming in your chest. Lizzie wants to go public. You steal a glance at the door before looking back at her and sighing. "Okay, I have an idea."

The whole thing goes very quickly; you pull your cell phone out of your pocket and take a picture of your lipstick-stained shirt collar. She looks at you with a frown.

"What...?"

"Well, you're not on Instagram so this is as good as it gets." You explain, letting her see the photo and the small caption that simply read “a good-luck kiss from my favorite star”. Lizzie felt her face burn, and she giggled nervously. This would cause some commotion, she could already imagine Twitter going insane trying to guess who you were talking to. Knowing her fans, they probably already knew.

She stares at you to say; "Your agent is going to kill you. Not only that, they'll drown you with questions when we are out of here."

You chuckled, offering her a wink. "It was totally worth it."

She approaches again, stealing a short kiss before touching the door handle. "I'll fix my makeup, you go ahead."

You pout. "But my picture was so nice..."

Lizzie rolls her eyes with a laugh. "I never said you couldn't post it." She teases, and it's her turn to give you a wink before walking out the door.

This woman is still going to be the death of you. Honestly.

[wren-kitchens]

1601 words

there's a patch of dirt where scott's pacing has worn away the grass entirely, but he doesn't stop- can’t stop. the hole is officially filled, bricked up to dirt with deepslate, all stalagmites gathered in a chest hidden away from the view of any- anyone who might come here. bigb was conspiring against him- that's fine, it's fine as long as he doesn’t- he can see it coming now. they won't get the jump on him, not again. out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement, and before his brain can catch up, scott has his sword pointed at the throat of a surprised looking joel. it occurs to him too late that this isn’t the way someone who was dealing well with something would react, and he sees that recognition mirrored in joel's grin.

I wasn't actually gonna post this, I just wrote it for fun after session 4, but I read it back and realised I really liked the way i'd written it HKFJD so tumblr can have it as well

this is both kind of an exploration of scott's character and also a very self indulgent thing of joel having more composure than scott for once. I can do what I want forever and I will do this

there's a patch of dirt where scott's pacing has worn away the grass entirely, but he doesn't stop- can’t stop. the hole is officially filled, bricked up to dirt with deepslate, all stalagmites gathered in a chest hidden away from the view of any- anyone who might come here. bigb was conspiring against him- that's fine, it's fine as long as he doesn’t- he can see it coming now. they won't get the jump on him, not again. 

out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement, and before his brain can catch up, scott has his sword pointed at the throat of a surprised looking joel. it occurs to him too late that this isn’t the way someone who was dealing well with something would react, and he sees that recognition mirrored in joel's grin.

"i’m just saying hi." joel says, tilting his head to the side as he pushes scott's blade away. "i’m dark green- it's not like i’m gonna do anything."

scott sighs, and he commends himself privately on how casual he makes it sound. "thought you were a zombie. what with your green streak." he frowns. "is it greener?"

"yeah, gem helped me dye it." joel looks a little too pleased with that for scott's liking. not that- he doesn’t seem suspicious or anything, it's just.. isn’t he usually insane by now? "she's got one too. we match." it'd be sweet how proud he looks, if it didn’t unnerve scott so much. 

"you’ve been getting some.. pretty strong alliances." scott sheathes his sword again, resisting the impulse to back away. "first etho, then the mounders, now gem."

joel shrugs. "well, i’ve been getting the hang of it. feels nice," he says, a smile in his voice that's too earnest to be put on. "having someone in my corner. like- safe, y’know?"

scott forces his jaw to untense. "I bet." is all he says, and joel seems to notice the phrasing.

"what, you don’t think you're safe?" he frowns, stepping to the side absentmindedly, as if he’s about to start circling him. 

"I didn't say that." scott tries for a grin. he immediately knows it was the wrong move- something like interest sparks in joel's eye, and he takes another step. 

"you did die earlier. to mumbo, of all people." he grins, arms behind his back as he begins to walk towards the pit. not that- it's filled in. scott is almost certain that it's still filled in. "honestly, i’m glad, he needed the win." he snorts. "and we've all had targets on us. last six-lifers, and everything. it's no surprise."

"what's your point?" scott folds his arms in what he hopes is a show of nonchalance. "you two died. you died to jimmy."

"oh, jimmy- he’s been doing pretty well, hasn't he?" joel smiles, and much to scott's annoyance, he seems genuinely pleased about this fact. what happened to him- the joel he knew in secret life would be raving about this fact. "killed me, and mumbo, and grian! he might not be out first this game- neither might lizzie, she's been doing well too. swindled me out of my diamonds, but-"

"why are you here, joel." scott interrupts, and joel seems surprised. 

joel shrugs, and he’s stood directly over the stupid pit. the grass hasn't even grown back yet. "i’m just checking on everyone. tango tried to get me with that stupid trap again."

he grins. "it- y’know he still hasn't added more lava? I didn’t even lose a heart!"

scott feels a sharp pain in his palm, and he realises he's been clenching his fists so hard, his fingernails dug into his skin, joel tracks the movement. "go away joel."

joel's tail sweeps across the floor, arms still behind his back, chest exposed. he’s not scared. "i’m just having a nice little chat." he takes a step forward, and scott jerks in an aborted instinct to run. "you seem a bit tense."

there's a sword in scott's hand, and joel's grin grows. "I said to leave."

"green on green action isn’t allowed." joel says, a teasing frown on his face- like he ever cared for the rules. "i've just been talking to you- did I say something?"

within an instance, scott is in joel's space, sword slicing through the air towards his neck, rules be fucking damnned- 

the sword meets only empty air, and all of a sudden joel is grinning in scott's face, gripping scott's wrist with more strength than he realised he had. 

"come on, we're all friends here." joel says, all sharp teeth and bright eyes. scott is breathing smoke. never has he wanted to bite someone's throat out before, but here he seems to be. "watchers might get cross if we aren't. i’m sure you don’t want that."

scott glares, as if he could kill joel with his mind alone. "i’m sure they'd make an exception."

joel laughs- and it's not even fucking manic, it's that stupid giggle he does when he's talking about something dumb. he’s in full control right now—of both himself and this situation. "an exception- yeah, sure, for the guy they hate, the guy who keeps breaking their rules." 

scott wrenches his wrist out of joel's grasp, backing up. joel grins, unfazed. "they haven't taken it out on me yet." scott's voice is almost gravelly with anger. 

"i’d just hate for you to get another snail." joel says cheerfully, and scott gets the impression he’d love it if that were to come to pass. there's a stab of anxiety that pierces through scott's chest at the idea of it. "never had a game like this, have we? unprecedented times." 

joel is moving again, and scott is beginning to realise that he’s doing it on purpose. he knows- he fucking noticed, because of course he did, amidst the red rage of the previous games just how much scott cares for control—and how much he’s floundering now he has a lack. 

"y’know, I reckon this is gonna be different." joel says, and it almost sounds like a threat—enough for scott's heart to rabbit against his chest. he looks thoughtful, as if whatever he’s saying has just occurred to him- but there's enough smugness in his voice to suggest that he knows exactly what he’s doing. "this game, that is. jimmy is on track to beat the curse- good on him." he adds, grinning. "i’m still on five lives, and now you just died to mumbo.." he pauses, looking scott up and down. "well, all i’m saying is that maybe you won't take me out the series this time."

there it is- the reason behind all his tormenting. admittedly, scott should have realised it sooner, but he gives himself grace; he's having a bad day. he tries for a scoff, and it seems to come across at least fairly convincing, because joel doesn't immediately start laughing again. "oh, I see." scott draws himself up, and joel raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "that's what this is about? little bit sensitive of you, joel."

"yeah, probably." joel grins, and scott feels a jolt as he realises his goading failed. that doesn’t happen all too often. "but if gem can hold a grudge, I can too." of course- gem. scott did say they'd be good for each other. he failed to recognise how fucking good—is that seriously all it took to relieve joel of his red rage?

and before scott can process it, joel pulls out a shovel and dashes the ground beneath scott's feet. the panic that floods his whole body is enough to get him mindlessly desperate- clawing like a dying animal at whatever's closest. he can't die- he won't die again, not to this, not again-

he realises with a horrible drop of his stomach and a rush of overwhelming relief that he has landed on the deepslate, and that joel is fucking giggling again. scott's breath is shallow, his heart so loud, he almost misses joel's next words.

"looks like someone else is a little sensitive." he grins, clearly over-fucking-joyed at what he’s uncovered. joel slings his shovel over his shoulder, mock-saluting in a way that makes scott want to rip his head off. "i'll see you later." he waves cheerfully as he strolls off like the fucking peacock he is, out of their gate and into the night.

-

gem looks up from what joel can only assume is trying to convince the chickens to be just that bit quieter, smiling in greeting. "where were you off to?" joel grins, a little sheepish, and gem snorts. "what did you do?"

"may have been antagonising scott. just a little." he pinches his fingers to make a point, and gem rolls her eyes.

"that team is supposed to be our ally." she stands up, brushing mud off the knees of her dungarees.

"I thought we were telling everyone to go after pearl?" joel points out, and he watches as she clearly concedes. "and don’t pretend that's about the cows, 'cause I know it's not just that."

gem grins. "no- you’re right. what's your problem with scott?"

joel huffs. "he always permakills me- almost every game. and he was all- shaken up from mumbo's kill, so." he hesitates, and gem looks at him expectantly. "he’s.. a bit more rattled than I thought he was." 

"oh, joel, did you make an enemy?" gem says. she folds her arms as if exasperated, but her expression gives her away—she's always been one for drama. 

laughing, joel nods. "yeah, I- he’s definitely gonna try to kill me now."

[lauramkaye]

Fitzwilliam Darcy's Lucky Waistcoat, A Comprehensive Analysis

So I was re-watching the BBC Pride and Prejudice, as you do, and I made a joke that Darcy was having his valet get his lucky waistcoat to go see Lizzy- and then I was like, wait. Isn't he wearing that same one the day she comes to Netherfield to take care of Jane? Maybe it IS his lucky waistcoat!

So I had to re-watch it again to validate my theory and honestly I think I might be on to something.

First, the waistcoat in question: it looks brown in some lights and olive green in others, but I'm fairly sure it's the same garment. It has vertical stripes, a narrow double gold stripe alternated with a stripe of a woven-in diamond pattern. (Interestingly, Elizabeth's eyes look brown in many lights but when you see her in sunlight it becomes obvious that her eyes are a dark hazel. Am I saying the costume designer chose this fabric to match Elizabeth's eyes? No, but I'm also not NOT saying that...)

It appears the first time in the scene where Darcy runs into Elizabeth outside of Netherfield when she has walked across the fields to check on Jane - the scene where the stage directions for Darcy notoriously said that he had an erection - and also in the next scene at breakfast, which happens immediately afterward, and when he goes shooting with Bingley and Hurst.

(By the way the way he says "not at all, they were brightened by the exercise" and then sips his tea while maintaining dead on eye contact with Caroline like a cat pulling your drink off the side of a table is just... *chef's kiss* .... perfection.)

The next time we see it is the day that the Bennet sisters leave Netherfield. Caroline is wearing a very distinct outfit in this scene that has black, gold, and red stripes - note this for later.

At this point, my theory is that this is just one of the waistcoats Darcy brought to Hertfordshire, so it's in his rotation.

Interestingly, the next time we see it is during the scene where Jane is reading Caroline's letter and Elizabeth is imagining the scene of Bingley meeting Georgiana. I've reblogged a post before that notes that in this scene Georgiana is wearing a very fussy pink dress, styled more like the way the Bingley sisters dress and very unlike the things we see Real Georgiana wearing later on. But Caroline is wearing the very distinct stripey outfit and Darcy has on the gold striped waistcoat - it seems the Elizabeth is imagining them in the outfits they were wearing the last morning at Netherfield - possibly the last time she saw them in less formal/day clothes.

The next time we see this waistcoat is at Hunsford: Darcy wears it with his bottle green coat on the day he calls at the parsonage and sees Lizzy alone and they have the super awkward conversation about how far away is too far to live from your family. He comes alone this time, not with Colonel Fitzwilliam, and this is where I feel like the "lucky waistcoat" may come into play - it's the one he was wearing the first time he looked and her and had his "...oh" moment. It's kind of the color of her beautiful eyes. He's going to try and talk to her without his cousin there... it feels like Date Outfit vibes to me. ( I mean that scene is SO awkward because: Darcy, but still.)

He does not, however, wear it to propose - he's dressed for dinner, I think, and has a pale brocade waistcoat on during that scene.

Anyway we don't see the Lucky Waistcoat again until we get to Pemberley, and it features really heavily in several key scenes there.

First off, after Darcy jumps in the pond and runs into Elizabeth in his backyard, he rushes inside to get dressed and comes out, still buttoning his coat, his hair damp, wearing HIS LUCKY WAISTCOAT:

And then the next day when he brings Georgiana to meet Elizabeth he's wearing it AGAIN:

And then after the dinner where Elizabeth and Georgiana make friends and Darcy sits in the music room watching them with his whole entire damn heart in his eyes like he has never been happier in his life, the next day we see him getting dressed and primping and asking his valet to give him his green coat which is paired once again with the Lucky Waistcoat because apparently it's working for him so far? She doesn't hate him anymore and she and Georgiana are making FRIENDS and Elizabeth SMILED at him and everything's coming up Darcy.

So he goes to Lambton to see Lizzy at the inn again - side note, I am SO CURIOUS what he was planning on talking to her about, especially since apparently she was already confirmed to go to Pemberley again later that day - but OH NOES Lizzy has just gotten the letter about Lydia:

(the way he holds her hand and then realizes he doesn't have the right to and SO RELUCTANTLY moves back)

The next time we see it is in the short scene where he is looking for Lydia and Wickham and stops at what looks to be a coaching inn to ask after them. At first I took this as a sign that he left straight from the inn to look for them but it can't be, because there's a short scene at Pemberley where he is with the Bingleys fretting about it and storms off which I think is the dinner that Elizabeth and the Gardiners had to miss. So maybe he wore it because it made him feel close to Elizabeth, or because he was hoping for luck in his search? I couldn't find a screenshot of this scene but trust me. :) (He's wearing a different waistcoat in the scene where he confronts Mrs. Younge in London and another one still in the flashback where he's talking to the Gardiners, so obviously it took him a while to track them down.)

The final Lucky Waistcoat appearance is during the scene where he apologizes to Bingley for interfering, gives him his blessing to propose to Jane, and leaves to go back to London. I couldn't find a gif but here it is with a (perfect) Onion headline:

I think it's interesting that this is the last time we see it, because this is actually when he is LEAVING - when he thinks that he doesn't have a chance with her anymore but at least he's done his best to fix what he broke by bringing Bingley back to Jane and bribing Wickham to marry Lydia. It's so important to his character arc that he does this! He changes his behavior and does his best to fix what he did wrong, because of Elizabeth - because he listened to her criticism and realized she was right about him - but not in order to get another chance with her. He does it because his own sense of morality demands that when he knows he's done wrong, he should do his very best to make it right again. My theory for why he wears the Lucky Waistcoat - or perhaps it would be better called the Lizzy Waistcoat - in this scene is that when he sends Bingley off to propose and leaves town, it's kind of the bittersweet endpoint for him of this relationship that has made him a better man. I think in this scene he is thankful that he met Elizabeth, and while he will never forget her he feels that he can at least go forward knowing that he did his best to make it up to her. I think he probably feels that the second chance he was hoping for at Pemberley being derailed by Wickham and Lydia's elopement - which we see he blames himself for since he didn't do anything to warn Meryton about Wickham's true character - is a fair punishment. It hurts but he's done what he can and at least he's managed to save the Bennet's reputation, and Elizabeth will be so happy for Jane to be happy with Bingley. I picture him staring wistfully out the window of his carriage all the way to London, giving himself one last day to just wallow in his might-have-beens before he has to steel himself to live without Elizabeth. Maybe he's telling himself that they can meet at Bingley's wedding as common and indifferent acquaintances.

And then Lady Catherine comes to see him and is super indignant that Elizabeth refused to promise her never to get engaged to him and he books it back to Longbourn because he cannot live in suspense. He has to know if he has a chance at happiness after all.

He doesn't wear the Lizzy Waistcoat when he makes his second, successful proposal; it's a pale brocade one, visually similar to the one from the Hunsford proposal though I haven't verified whether it's the same one or not. But then, he doesn't need the Lizzy Waistcoat anymore, because in all the rest of the scenes he has LIZZY.

Anyway that's me probably thinking way too hard about a single clothing item from the 1995 BBC Pride and Prejudice, thanks for indulging me. (Seriously though the costumes in that are so good. I am also obsessed with Maria Lucas' adorable green coat with the pink lining and pink bow fasteners and the rosebud-adorned pink and green dress Harriet Forster wears in her first scene, I think it's at Lucas Lodge?)

[copinghex]

Green Lane | T.S

Summary: The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks. Tommy set his wife free.

A/N: I wanted to try something different :)

The house smelled of tea and eggs, the white lace curtains swayed with the morning breeze, the plates with the rest of breakfast were still set and the cat soon would hop on the table to eat.

Tommy was off to work and the baby was crying.

Laying on the bed, Mrs. Shelby barely listened, constant migraines tortured her since the birth of her child. Jacqueline or “Jackie” had a bright smile and reacted quickly to her father's voice, she also refused to be left on the crib for more than five minutes, clingy and stubborn as her father.

Her sight went dark and the baby still cried. She pictured her forcing a louder scream out of the tiny lungs. Her chest burnt in hatred. Why wouldn't it just give up?

Something metallic hit the floor down the kitchen, the cat knocked the kettle off the sink, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands covered her head, tugging on locks of hair.

Her teeth ground, head about to explode, in fetal position her knees almost touched her forehead. She needed silence. She needed everything to go away,

Go away…

Go away…!

A guttural scream was heard by the neighbors. Something was wrong with Mrs. Shelby.

—

The Green Lane looked beautiful at night, unlike the Watery, which seemed to never sleep, it was quiet, the only sounds were grasshoppers and the cars of tired husbands returning to their wives.

There were trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks. When Mrs. Shelby turned her back to the house, she saw the world clearer.

Ada lulled Jacqueline in her arms, she brought pastries from a nearby bakery and cleaned the kitchen. The only sound in the living room was the crackling fireplace. Her sister-in-law stood by the window and didn't give hints she'd make dinner or pick up the baby any soon.

To Ada, the signs were obvious, a severe case of baby blues, she feared for Tommy's reaction, God knew he had too much on his back with the expansion to London. Still, she knew he'd be the only one able to pull Mrs. Shelby from rock bottom.

A new house far from Small Heath should mean a new start, the suburb offered the perfect balance of urbanism and contact with nature, very appropriate for a kid to grow in, when Ada got a call from a neighbor asking to check if something happened, she pitied Tommy above everything.

When he arrived, the house was dark. He walked in with quick, worried steps, calling for a wife who didn't answer. Finding Ada didn't bring much relief. She had vowed to stay away from business, an unscheduled nightly visit couldn't be good.

Jackie cooed at the sight of her father and the sound got Mrs. Shelby’s attention. Her face didn't change at Tommy's presence, as a matter of fact, her greetings sounded forced, leaning more towards polite than affectionate.

“Stay for dinner, Ada,” he offered.

“No, I just came for afternoon tea, why don't you walk me to the car?”

As the siblings left, she knew they were talking about her. She also couldn't deny the inner peace she felt being completely alone in the living room.

—

No one was sure if the pills were working. The migraines were gone, opening space for, as Finn explained about Arthur, “not being there in head.”

Tommy also planned a honeymoon in Gretna Green for the next year. It wouldn't be possible at that moment because of business and the baby, even if the doctor's recommendation was to breathe new airs for a while.

Tommy slept with Lizzie that morning, Mrs. Shelby could tell by the floral perfume in his collar when he got home, she should've searched for the reasons behind it, if it was about him or about her, but with dinner on the stove and Jacqueline babbling, she couldn't focus on anything else. Her brain wasn't the same anymore.

They listened to the weather forecast and a soap opera on the radio before going to sleep, although Tommy suspected she wasn't actually listening. She rested her head on his thigh the whole time and he noticed her eyelids were shaking.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I wish you'd set me free.”

—

It was hard to get decent doctors those days, Tommy struggled with not cursing them off, all he was asking for was to find the source of his wife's condition, not to dope her off.

Without the pills, the migraines were back, a maid cleaned and cooked so her only responsibility was to watch Jacqueline. Tommy didn't trust babysitters, the way business was going, he didn't trust anyone.

Around three o'clock, Mrs. Shelby bathed the baby, summer made her sweaty and moody, she cried much more than usual.

The bathtub was covered in bubbles, “Songs my mother taught me” by Nellie Melba played from the gramophone downstairs. Jackie moved too much while the mum undressed her, her pinkish dress fell on the floor.

The maid was already gone and Mrs. Shelby did everything in her reach to keep the house as clean as possible, holding the baby's arms down so she wouldn't splash the water.

It was not working, she was crying. Both were. Mrs. Shelby covered Jacqueline's mouth and pushed her down. The noise stopped, she held the tiny arms again. Jacqueline wasn't strong or aware enough to come back from under the water, the soap burnt her lungs.

The writhing was making Mrs. Shelby nervous, her grip got tighter. Just when the song ended, the writhing did too. She pulled Jacqueline up. Her eyes didn't open, her arms fell to the side. Weird.

Mrs. Shelby shook the baby's chin. Nothing. Tommy. Tommy would know what to do. She needed Tommy.

Running to the phone in the living room, she could barely get the words off. He assured her he was coming and told her to calm down. She spent the next minutes walking between the bathroom and the kitchen, she knew she should do something, take the baby off the bathtub, call an ambulance, anything, she couldn't, she always froze at the bathroom's door, her feet and brain worked together to spare her from the morbid scene.

With tears in her eyes, she sat on the kitchen's floor, her back leaned against the cabinets she carefully chose months ago. They matched nicely with the curtains and wallpapers. Everything in Green Lane was perfect.

Tommy only caught a glimpse of his wife before running to his daughter and the world stopped.

No, no, please no, fuck, Mrs. Shelby heard.

The sound of a cocking gun put her mind to alert. She ran out the front door like a scared animal. His daughter was dead. Tommy followed after, he had her at gunpoint.

The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks.

“I wish you'd set me free,” she whispered.

A new house far from Small Heath should mean a new start, the suburb offered the perfect balance of urbanism and contact with nature, very appropriate for a kid to grow in.

Set her free or let her run away…?

“I wish you'd set me free,” she whispered.

The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks.

His daughter was dead.

A new house far from Small Heath should mean a new start, the suburb offered the perfect balance of urbanism and contact with nature, very appropriate for a kid to grow in.

Set her free or let her run away…?

“I wish you'd set me free,” she whispered

Set her free,

Let her run away,

Set her free,

Let her run away,

Set her free,

Let her run…

The Green Lane had trees, pretty houses with flower vases in the windows, Fiats and a few Bentleys parked by the clean sidewalks.

His daughter was dead.

Tommy pulled the trigger.

She was free.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 23)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

An hour later, when Tommy stepped into the large bedroom he shared with Lizzie, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as he closed the door behind him.

He knew what, deep down inside, he wanted and this wasn't her . Lizzie wasn't the girl he yearned for night after night as he lay in bed, unable to chase away thoughts of you.

But this was the life he had chosen; a life with a woman who would bear him children, provide legitimacy, and bring his status within society up. This was the kind of respectable marriage that would keep his illegal business safe and hidden from plain view while gaining him political power. 

As Tommy crawled beneath the covers, Lizzie sighed, recognizing your scent on his skin , but chose to ignore it for the sake of their carefully crafted illusion of a happy relationship.

After all, Lizzie and Tommy were about to begin the next chapter of their lives together, surrounded by the grandeur that Arrow House had to offer.

It was a life Lizzie couldn't have fathomed if it wasn't for the Shelby family. Coming from a poor upbringing, Lizzie had always dreamed of a life of luxury and prosperity.

She believed that being married to Tommy would shroud her name with power and influence, allowing her to reach heights she had never thought possible. When she accepted his proposal, her heart was full of both excitement and trepidation, knowing that this would be the biggest challenge she would ever face.

The fact that he slept with other women also never bothered him, although she knew that, with you, all of this was different. She hated the fact that he slept with you because she knew that he was, in fact, in love with you.  She could feel the tension between you when you were together during family gatherings and the like, as if an unspoken electricity buzzed in the air. Lizzie would do her best to simply observe without getting involved, trying to figure out exactly what Tommy saw in you that he didn't see in her, but sometimes she lost her temper.

"Why her?" she thus asked, after about twenty minutes of lying there in silence, unable to go back to sleep.

Lizzie's voice, barely above a whisper in the darkness of the room, held a shade of anger that Tommy found familiar. 

"Go to sleep, Lizzie," he simply muttered, his own voice heavy with fatigue.

He sighed deeply and settled back into the softness of the bed, his thoughts drifting back to you.

You were never far from his mind, even when he was laying next to Lizzie at night.

He couldn't quite put his finger on why you elicited such strong emotions within him, but there was no denying them.

The attraction was like a moth to a flame, unquenchable and irresistible in every regard.

It was a spark so fierce and unpredictable that it defied all reason and logic. This attraction was a dangerous obsession that would ultimately implode into an inferno.

But then again, he knew that, come tomorrow, things would change. He was going to marry Lizzie , the woman he chose to become his second wife. He would have to put the memories of you, his niece, aside, as much as it pained him to do so.

In the quiet of his dark bedroom, Tommy lay beside Lizzie's still figure. Her soft snores filled the silence between them, but they provided little comfort to Tommy. His mind was distracted, unable to focus on anything but you; your smile, the feel of your body against his, and your eagerness to please him in every way possible.

He had a love-hate relationship with this, but overall, it heightened his urges to have you.

***

On the morning that followed, the big day of your uncle's wedding had arrived and you really did not want to get out of bed.

Witnessing the union between Lizzie and the man you loved made you feel sick to your stomach.

Nonetheless, you got up and got dressed in velvet green gown that accentuated your physique. 

You pulled your hair back into an elegant chignon, all the while staring at yourself in the mirror as you prepared for the emotional challenges ahead.

Every step toward Arrow House felt heavy with anticipation, regret, and longing.

The grand mansion bustled with wedding guests dressed to the nines, the air thick with perfume and excited chatter. Everyone was ready to head to the church and your uncle Tommy himself looked incredibly handsome in his tailored suit.

The tension was palpable, not just from the anticipation of the wedding ceremony, but also because of the secrets that everyone kept hidden. Secrets that, if exposed, could shake the very foundations of their world.

You made your way through the throngs of guests and slipped out onto the veranda, desperate for a moment of solitude. You leaned against the cold stone balustrade and took a deep breath, feeling the chilliness in your lungs as you gazed down at the rolling hills beyond.

The misty morning dew clung to the grass and hedges of the estate, shimmering in the weak sunlight. Your heart felt heavy as you watched a pair of birds soar effortlessly across the horizon, free and unafraid. What you wouldn't give to have that same freedom in this world full of constraints and burdens.

A gentle hand on your shoulder made you jump, but you collected yourself quickly and turned to face your father, Arthur Shelby. His rugged features were drawn further together with worry, his gray eyes searching yours.

"What's wrong, Love?" Arthur asked hoarsely, the hand on your shoulder a comforting weight as he too gazed out at the peaceful scene below.

The concern in his voice was clear, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for ruining the excitement for him. 

You shook your head softly, unwilling to burden him with your secrets and this unwanted marriage. After all, he could never find out about the kind of relationship you had with his very own brother.  "Nothing, Father. I just... I wish this day would pass quickly," you managed to answer as casually as possible.

Arthur's gaze became sharper, intuiting that there was something deeply troubling you, but he simply nodded and pulled you closer to him, letting you rest your head on his chest. 

"I know you are sad because of your fiancé's sudden departure but, trust me Love, you can do much better than him, eh?" your father said gently, causing you to chuckle. 

"I know," you simply acknowledged while, the truth was that you had already forgotten about Robert.

He had been but a fleeting distraction from the one overwhelming desire that occupied every thought; it was only Tommy who evoked such strong feelings within you.

With Robert, sex felt, well, ordinary - not worth remembering. But with Tommy, passion erupted in the most inopportune moments, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed by longing.

Sensing your silence, Arthur wrapped his arm around your shoulders and together, you watched as the sun burned through the fog, glistening on the dewy grass below.

"Come on now Love, let's head off. No doubt we are going to be late," he then said, seeing that it was time for you to make your way to the church.

You took a deep breath and allowed Arthur to lead you back inside, where the atmosphere had ramped up another level; guests chattering in excited tones as they gathered their belongings and made their way out.

As you wound your way to the exit and through the crowds of people, you were acutely aware of the fact that, despite your happiness for Tommy's new marriage, there was a bitter emptiness, too. You wished things could be different.

You sighed, taking one last glance around the magnificent main foyer before making your way outside and to one of the many Bentleys that had been arranged to transport all the guests.

When you arrived at the church, your heart leaped into your throat at the sheer number of guests that had turned up to celebrate Tommy and Lizzie's wedding.

You could feel the weight of tradition and obligation bearing down on you as you took your seat next to your father, who gave you a reassuring smile and, soon after that, you saw as Tommy took his place at the alter , looking dashing in his wedding suit.

Your heart ached within your chest as you took him in, and as if sensing your gaze, he looked up. For just a moment, our eyes locked, and in that instant, you saw everything you needed to see; the guilt, the longing, the desire that mirrored your own.

He was deep in thought , staring at you with a mixture of regret and a need so fierce it made your heart race.

The guilt gnawed at you both, but the pull towards one another remained.

You watched as he took a deep breath, composing himself once more before turning back to face forward just as the wedding ceremony began and it was then that a single tear snaked its way down your cheek, the pressure in your heart almost unbearable.

You weren't sad because of Tommy's forthcoming marriage as such, but rather you were distraught because of what your relationship with him represented - a love and desire that went beyond accepted norms, meaning this could never be you. You could never be with him, no matter how much this was what you really wanted. 

"I am sorry, I need some air," you told your father softly, slipping out of the pew as quietly as possible, but Tommy noticed .

His gaze lingered on you as you passed the crowds, the ache in your chest intensifying. You felt like there was a vice around your heart, squeezing tighter and tighter until all you could focus on was the pain.

Outside the church, you attempted to catch your breath but it was no use. All you could see, hear, and feel was him - Tommy Shelby. The man who had taken control of your very being since you realized you wanted him more than anything else in the world.

At the same time, you watched Lizzie, dressed in white, walking past and towards the alter where Tommy waited. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, but that did not stop the bitterness from flooding your mouth.

You knew what was going to happen next and you couldn't bear to watch.  You felt like you were going to be sick and, despite the chilliness of the air, sweat beaded on your brow.

You could hear every word of the ceremony as if it was happening right in your ear - the priest's voice droning on and on until you heard Tommy begin with his vows...

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[enkays-den]

And You Could Have It All/My Empire of Dirt

(Wild Life Session 6 Spoilers)

1.1k words, mentions of character death, nothing crazy violent

The first thing to go is the Bamboozler's base. it's spiteful, but Jimmy did land that kill on Mumbo that they never got proper revenge for. He burns the parrots one by one, scorches the cherry trees until its black instead of pink and green. He takes special delight in tearing down the reputation board. It's the only little spark of joy he feels.

Next is B's initial base. He turns the creaking forest to ash, feeling smoke fill his lungs with every breath. He killed Skizz, plain and simple. No dignity of a fight, just an ambush of a poor, stupid, lovable man. Later he found out via a guilt-ridden Impulse that they had taken advantage of a moment where Skizz was being stupidly valiant and took his armour off around Lizzie. It was stupid, but it wasn't supposed to end in death.

That was the last thing Impulse told him before he pushed him off the Spanner's TNT bridge. Grian had at least given him the small kindness of letting him fall where his best friend had, before taking care of the rest of his crew. Impulse out of everyone else, truly understood the pain of outliving Skizz.

The bases of the 4 G's are razed with ease. The second one even more so, with TNT traps and a full to the brim creeper farm underneath. It almost sounded like fireworks. He didn't want to think about TNT explosions. That's how they both went out. They were just having fun they weren't even hurting anyone what the hell did they do to DESERVE--

Ren and Martyn's sky-high treehouses become an unholy beacon of flame. They didn't even do much to them. He would have been angry at Martyn for the penultimate kill on Skizz, but it really was an accident, and Martyn had been horrified when Skizz died right in front of them. And he seemed repentant for the breeze charge kill. But that might have had something to do with the sword slowly cutting into his windpipe.

The Family's car and base was still besieged by ravagers, evokers, and raiders of all sorts from Joel and Gem's last stand. Grian wasn't touching that place with a ten foot pole. And they were probably the ones that were nicest to his boys, anyways. Gem had been to the point of exasperated at Skizz's performance and was always pushing him to do better. Despite being a powerhouse of a duo, they had never been threats.

Grian stands atop the TNT launcher, newly calibrated and aimed. He stood VERY far away from the speeding minecart in its little loop. This is where all of it happened. Where his lads had died, so suddenly and so pointlessly and so soon. Why them? They were two of the most harmless people of the lot of them. Was this a joke to them?

Grian pulls a lever, and the cart launches into the air. He goes to the end to watch it sail down, down, down, landing squarely on what was remaining of Tango's wood house. Most of it gets obliterated in the blast.

Sure, Tango had already gotten his comeuppance. Hunted for sport by Jimmy and Lizzie and B in honor of Skizz, or perhaps in penance of their actions against their little team. Their--quite literally--little trio. Tango had been brought to him by a triumphant Jimmy, tied up and gagged, and Grian got to have the honor of ending his final life. Not that it would bring anything back.

Jimmy scurried away after that, knowing the dark look in his eyes spelled trouble. And he was right. The next step up of the wildcard was so much worse than before. Endless night, a darkness so suffocating it quickly drove everyone insane with paranoia. The comfort of the sun would never be experienced again. Not when the lights of Grian's lives (this time around) were snuffed out.

Grian sends another minecart down. And another, and another. The pit that once was Tango's base is a crumpling maw of earth, rock, and scorch marks, going deeper and deeper. But it can never match the hole In Grian's chest.

If he was going to finish what his Spanners had started, he was going got damn well finish it.

He only stops when everyone's supply of explosives are depleted. That will have to do.

Finally, he flies over to the two makeshift graves he dug. Not that there was any body to bury. He runs his blackened fingers over the signs he placed, his silly epitaphs were all he could write, because if he spoke from the heart, there wouldn't be enough paper in the world to talk about how much he loved Skizz and Mumbo. It was fun and careless and joyful and laughter, and then his world became silent.

He hits between the two stone monuments and sighs, exhaustion fills his lung, alongside the smoky air. "Lads, it's just me left." His voice is hoarse from disuse. He can't remember when he spoke last. Maybe Skizz's funeral.

"Everything is burnt down. Spanners won. I'm so sorry that I didn't bring you with me."

A crackle and a crash from far above signals another fallen cherry tree.

"It's so bloody stupid. This time, I got to have fun with how things went, I had full control. And I lost you so fast. Maybe I should have been keeping a closer eye on you. Or done something to make it easier."

He receives no consolation or comfort, which is how he knows Skizz is truly gone. And Mumbo isn't here to bring that strangely driven attitude.

"It's not enough to bring you back, but I hope you can accept all of this as an apology." He prays a world without them going up in a hellish blaze is worth something to them.

What good was he, as a being with incredible power if he could only use it to play silly little games, and not save the people he chose?

"I don't think I can claim I won for you, because this doesn't feel like winning."

In the distance, a booming crash that could only be Ren and Martyn's bases falling echoed across the land.

"I did live for you, though. I lived beyond all the rest for you."

The endless night grew darker with smoke and ash. It smothers and suffocates and chokes and burns. Good.

As the darkness starts creeping around the edge of his vision, as the smoke starts to sear his lungs, Grian thinks 'at least next time, we'll be able to laugh about this'.

He loses consciousness, and he is crowned winner.

YEAH IM FEELING A WAY ABOUT THIS WAHHHHHHHHHHH MY BOY

SKIZZLEMAN YOU DID SO GOOD HONEY

[peppered-moths]

allies or enemies (or a secret third thing)

ao3 link

cw: one (1) scar-typical innuendo

So, here’s the thing, right.  There’s only one bed.  Jimmy doesn’t mind–honestly!--but it gets… cramped.  Especially with three of them.  Oh, they’ve tried, but it’s like doing a puzzle on a tiny raft in the middle of the ocean.  Somebody’s always getting kicked in the face, or elbowed in the gut, or (on one notable occasion) the bed lighting on fire because somebody placed a torch too close to it.  No naming names.  So, yeah.  It’s not exactly ideal.

Their solution, which works well enough if you ask Jimmy, is this:

One person gets the bed.  (This is rotated daily.  However, bed privileges are often traded in exchange for doing menial tasks like mining, or making sure Scar’s rollercoaster still works.)

One person gets to sleep on the ground.  (Somehow, not the worst?  Jimmy thinks he’ll end up with a bad back eventually, but that’s a future problem.)

One person keeps watch.  (Should they be rotating this throughout the night?  Yes.  But it’s a formality… for now.)

If it works, it works. And it does!  Promise!  Jimmy really couldn’t be happier with this arrangement.

It’s only once they’ve settled in, after the first week, that he starts noticing… problems.

—

It’s Scar’s night with the bed.  Really, it was supposed to be Jimmy’s.  Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that Scar was an expert salesman, and had been swindled into giving it up for… twelve bamboo and a couple of cherry blossoms.  Utter junk.

So there he is, stewing a little bit as Scar settles into bed with what Jimmy thinks are obnoxiously contented sighs.  Lizzie’s already half asleep, curled up in the cherry blossoms, even though she’s supposed to be keeping watch.  

Just as he resigns himself to a chilly night, there’s a rustle behind him that’s not pink bedsheets or pink flowers.  No, instead it sounds like… feathers.  Jimmy narrows his eyes.

He shuffles around, making as little noise as possible.  And, yep, there’s Grian, wings tucked in close to his body, creeping towards the three of them.  What is he doing here?  He’s still dark green, there’s nothing he can do to any of them.  There’s no sword in his hand, or TNT, or–Jimmy squints–any creeper following him up the mountain.  It’s just… Grian.

And then there’s another rustle, and this time it really is from the bed.  Scar sits up, hair mussed and eyes bright even in the dark.  He’s staring right at Grian.

Jimmy doesn’t really know what he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not for Scar to lift a corner of the pink sheet in a silent invitation.  And he definitely doesn’t expect Grian to take him up on that offer, curling close to Scar in the bed with an ease that feels almost practiced.  Jimmy blinks a couple of times, as if he might be hallucinating.

No, Grian’s definitely still there, one wing spread over the bed like a downy blanket.  It’s… weird, yeah, definitely, but there’s also… not really anything wrong with it?  Obviously, if they were conspiring or something, that’d be a whole other thing.  But it really looks like they’re just sleeping.

Jimmy closes his eyes back to slits.  He’ll just… keep an eye on them.  Or something.  After all, this is probably a one time thing.

—

It was not a one time thing.

“That pillow smells like waffles,” Scar tells him confidentially, “I’d know it anywhere.”

“He’s sleeping here even when you’re not?” Jimmy blurts, before he remembers he’s not supposed to know anything about that.  That being the several nights Grian has wound up on top of the mountain, in the bed they share.  Only when Scar is there, of course.

Nevertheless, Scar seems to take it in stride.  “Well, you know how it is!”

No.  No, he definitely doesn’t.

Still, he doesn’t say anything when Grian creeps back into Scar’s bed that night, pretends he doesn’t hear them talking in hushed voices (though he certainly can’t make out what they’re saying).  He could only imagine what would happen if Lizzie found out.

Jimmy is woken up by her shriek.  He blinks, blearily, up at the moon, which is still very high in the sky, and mourns the rest of his sleep for a long moment.  Then he refocuses on the situation.

Grian is sitting bolt upright in the bed, wings flared out and eyes wide and shiny in the moonlight.  Scar has tumbled off, and is propped up on one elbow, also staring.

Lizzie stares back at them, mouth wide open.  She whirls on Jimmy.

“Did you know about this?”

He does the best to rub the sleep from his eyes.  “Know wh–”

“That he was sneaking,” Grian groans and faceplants into the pillow, “around here at night?  That he was–oh, I don’t know, stealing!  Or something!”

“I don’t think he’s stealing,” Scar says thoughtfully.  “I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed.”  Grian mumbles something into the pillow that Jimmy can’t make out.  Lizzie wheels back around to point a finger at Scar.

“You!  Don’t talk!  You’re fraternizing with the enemy!”

“...Is he the enemy?”  Jimmy wonders.  “We haven’t really had any problems with these guys yet.”

“Fra– fraber– fasternizing seems like a very strong word.”

“I didn’t ask you!”

“Lizzie,” he says.  “It’s late.  Like, really late.  Can we deal with this in the morning?”

“And let him stay?”

“C’mon, can’t a guy just sleep with his buddy?” Scar pipes up from the ground.  Jimmy and Lizzie wince simultaneously, and he’s pretty sure Grian does too, though his face is currently buried in the pillow.

She stands there for another couple of moments.  “Oh, fine, whatever.  Don’t come to me when he steals all your valuables!”  She storms off to the other side of the mountain, which… isn’t really that far away.

“...rude,” Grian says, muffled by the pillow.  Scar climbs back onto the bed.  Jimmy closes his eyes, even though he knows he won’t get another wink of sleep.

They never do deal with it in the morning.  Lizzie fumes for a couple of days, but even she gets used to it.

—

Jimmy had half-expected Lizzie’s discovery to stop Grian and Scar’s late-night sleepovers, or for them to at least be more subtle.  The problem is, Grian just keeps showing up.  It’s like he’s figured out their (nonexistent) schedule.  Jimmy has to deal with his smug face as he flops down onto the bed next to (or sometimes on top of) Scar, feathers draping over the edges of the flimsy frame.  It’s insufferable.  Half of him–the very yellow half–wants to kill him, just to make him go away.  It only gets worse.

And then he kills Grian.  And then Scar kills Grian.  And Jimmy can’t help but think oh, well, there’s the end of that as Grian explodes Scar’s reputation board along with the last scraps of his own reputation, wings bristling with undisguised rage.  As he tells his teammates that he and Scar are top of the list, that he’ll kill them and kill them ‘til they’re out of the game.

He’s wrong, because of course he is.  Because it’s Scar and Grian.

He’s trudging back up the mountain, body aching all over from new bruises and scrapes, but silently gloating in the amount of kills he’s managed to make this session alone.  And then he stops.  And stares.  And thinks, oh, come off it, really?

Grian’s in bed with Scar.  Yes, again, even though it’s Lizzie’s turn and he’s honestly starting to get annoyed for her.  She’s already standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

“I know I’ve said it before, but he really is the enemy now,” she tells Scar as Jimmy approaches.

“I can hear you,” Grian says, miffed.  “Besides, you’re fine, Lizzie.  Or, well, you’re not, ‘cause you’re allied with them,” he sweeps an arm towards Jimmy, “but you’re fine.”

“Aw, he’s harmless.”  Scar loops his arms around Grian and squeezes a bit, which causes him to puff up remarkably like an angry cat.

“You’re dead,” he hisses, but Jimmy’s finding it very hard to be intimidated by him when he’s curled up in Scar’s arms, face half buried in his chest.

Lizzie looks towards him, a little helpless, but Jimmy doesn’t have a solution to this either, other than–

“Make another bed?” he tries.

Lizzie draws herself up.  “Absolutely not.”

Right, okay.

She clearly sees the skepticism in his face.  “It’s the principle of it, Jimmy!”

“The principle.  Not the fact he’s threatened to kill us, or that he blew up Scar’s reputation board–”  “Oh, I am still annoyed about that,” Scar remarks quietly, like he’s just remembering, “--or anything like that at all?”

Lizzie grumbles wordlessly.  Grian sprawls his wings farther across the bed (and Scar) as if he’s daring them to kick him out.

“Fine.”  Lizzie sounds like she’s trying not to kill Grian herself.  “Finefinefine.  But!” she points at Scar.  “It’s your funeral.  Except it won’t be!  Because we won’t hold one for you!”

Jimmy nods, because he’s not really sure what else to do.  Scar just smiles, and Grian just shrugs.

“I can arrange that funeral,” he says.

“Oh!  You would?”  Scar sounds positively delighted.

“No– not like that.  I mean I’m going to kill you.”  Grian tries to explain, but Scar just seems star-struck, eyes bright even in the darkness.

Lizzie rolls her eyes and stomps away.  Jimmy follows, casting a last glance at their one-sided argument.

No, definitely not a one time thing.

—

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Grian informs him, the first time it happens.  He’s huddled close into Scar’s side, gray wings tickling his shoulder.

“Oh, yep, totally,” he reassures him, but he must sound a little disbelieving, because Grian presses a finger hard into his shoulder.

“I mean it, Scar.  One time thing.  I just don’t have a bed of my own yet.”  Then why didn’t you go to Mumbo or Skizz? he wonders absently.  He doesn’t really care, at the end of the day.  Grian’s right here, after all, and Scar would be an idiot not to take advantage of that.

So he just smiles, and lets Grian get comfortable.

One time thing, indeed.

(And if he makes a point to steal all of the Spanners’ wool out of their chests the next day?  Well, that’s nobody’s business but his own.)

[desertduality]

Trustfall

Ao3

Just a little thing I wrote to explore the Jimmy and Scar dynamic. Set loosely after session two. Enjoy! <3

Night comes, and Scar can't hide from his feelings anymore. They catch up to him - like everything does, eventually. Scar can never run fast enough.

He's on another mountain, this one green and pink and bright, bordered by tall shoots of bamboo and topped with cherry blossom trees, decorated with growing wheat fields and pens that - sometimes - house sheep and cows. It's all so... alive. So beautiful. So fragile.

The beauty of it is not the surprising part. It's not even that he spent the better part of the day eating dirt or leaves or shovels. No, the strangest thing on the mountain is the people. The strangest thing about them is that they're there at all. With Scar. On purpose.

He can't quite figure it out. The why of it. Jimmy had made it look so easy to say he would stay, like he couldn't think of a million reasons not to. And then Lizzie, who he had invited, and then still been surprised to see her there when he got back. They do it without obligation. Scar had almost forgotten what that felt like.

Neither of them are tethered to him by fate or bound by an oath. They're just there, bright and silly and constant. He'd had something close to it, once, with the allies he'd jokingly called his family, but that had been... messy.

Jimmy and Lizzie make caring about him feel like something simple.

Tell me about your theme park idea, Lizzie had said, and he had. He'd braced himself for- for something. For dismissal. For a roll of the eyes.

A good theme park has three things. Lizzie had mused instead. We need rides, decorations, and a mascot. I think one of us here has real mascot energy.

Jimmy's face had lit up. Lizzie had built three birds at the entrance to their base, standing proudly. Scar stares at them now, shadowy figures in the dark. They're a team. And as much as Lizzie jokes and groans about what a handful the two of them are, they're still equals. They understand each other. Lizzie knows what it's like to be alone, overlooked. Jimmy knows what it's like to be seen as a burden, a joke.

Somehow, despite everything, they trust each other. It's terrifying.

"Stargazing?"

Scar jumps at the voice, a quiet yelp escaping his throat before he can stop it. He twists his torso to look, a jerky motion, and lays eyes on Jimmy, who seems a bit apologetic. "Ah, sorry-"

"Geez, Jimmy, oh my god," Scar says through wheezing breaths, hand pressed to his chest. "This is the life series, man, you can't sneak up on- on a man in thought!"

"Right, sorry, sorry," Jimmy continues, laughing a little bit. "Thought you heard me walk over."

Jimmy sits down next to him, clothes rumpled from bed. It's quiet, fireflies blinking and crickets chirping in the distance. The moon is nearly full, high in the sky. It's early enough in the game that a full nights sleep is still an option. And yet-

"Couldn't sleep?" Jimmy asks, tone light but genuine.

"Oh, you know," Scar says, humming. "Stomach ache. Dirt doesn't agree with me. Who knew?"

"Yeah, glad that one's over." Jimmy stretches his legs out in front of him. "Think I chipped a tooth. I'm billing Grian."

Scar laughs quietly, mindful of Lizzie snoring just a few yards away. That's another thing he's not quite used to: sleeping with others nearby. It's comforting. He's afraid he'll get used to it.

They sit in silence for a while, comfortable and secure. Their frankly absurd amount of bamboo rustles in the gentle wind, cherry blossom petals perpetually raining down around them. It's the kind of perfect peace that has Scar waiting on the other shoe to drop.

"...What was winning like?" Jimmy asks eventually, voice soft.

"...I don't know," Scar says. "It didn't really feel like winning. It was kind of just, like. Sad."

"Sad?"

"Yeah." Scar sighs, leaning back to look at the stars. "I thought it might make me feel better, to just- to prove that I could."

Jimmy hums like he's really listening, like he understands, and Scar... Something settles. Something that has been flinching for a very long time goes still.

"I was tired of being alone," he admits. "Still am. I end up that way a lot."

"Not this time," Jimmy says, a lopsided smile on his face. "Not on my watch."

He places a comforting hand on Scar's shoulder. Grounding. Real.

Oh, Scar thinks. This is what it's like to have something to lose.

"You sure it's not too early to say that?" Scar asks, half teasing. "You might be running for the hills a week from now. I'm not- I'm not an easy teammate."

"Hey, me neither, pal." Jimmy nudges him, smile a bit jagged at the edges. "I'm known for dying early. I've got issues with longevity."

"They make medicine for that."

"Wh- Scar!"

Scar doubles over, wheezing uncontrollably. Jimmy follows helplessly, in a way that almost sounds painful. It continues for a while, until Lizzie makes a small noise in her sleep, and the two of them choke back their laughter to something manageable, tapering back into silence. Scar feels... happy. He feels happy. It's...

"How about you?" Scar asks. "Anything you want to get off your chest? Just between us. And the giant parrot statues."

"Ehh, I don't know," Jimmy says playfully, eying the parrots suspiciously. "I don't know if I trust 'em."

"And me?"

"You?" Jimmy glances sideways at him, eyes light and honest. "Of course. We're the Bam Boys."

Trust is something that Scar had thought he'd killed a long time ago. Jimmy offers it anyway. It's like a lighthouse in a storm. The sun to a flower. Water in a desert.

Trust. Just this once, Scar vows not to break it.

"So," Scar says, like nothing just happened. "Anything?"

Jimmy exhales shakily, looking away, down at his hands. There's dirt under his fingernails. Scar waits.

"I don't want to die first," Jimmy says, a faint tone of embarrassment in his voice. "I know it's like, a thing, but I really..."

Canary, they call him. A creature whose purpose is to die.

Scar knows a thing or two about unwanted titles. He sometimes feels like the role of Villain is still branded onto his skin, with the way some people look at him.

I don't want to die, cries the Canary, but the miner only pays attention when the singing stops.

"You won't," Scar says, as close to a promise as he can get. "Not this time. Not on my watch."

Jimmy grins crookedly, something relieved at the corners of his eyes. "That right?"

"That's right."

They go back to bed.

[babybluebex]

rememories | tommy shelby x fem!reader

summary: the lee family trashed your betting room, including your most prized possessions, and tommy does everything in his power to soothe you and right the wrongs that the rival gang caused. pairing: tommy shelby (peaky blinders) x fem!reader tags: s1!tommy, tommy being a sweetheart, your daughter's name is thomasine (thanks @lost-in-sokovia for that one), no real warnings for this other than like angst? brief emotional distress? idk author's note: it's come to this lol. i'll be fixing my cillian masterlist later and reblogging it, so y'all can read all of my old tommy fics (and a few other cillian characters lmao) but i hope you enjoy this one!

The backroom was in total disrepair. Chairs were tipped over, things were thrown from tables, coins scattered everywhere and marks of bludgeonings on the walls. The poor little room was merely a shell of itself, its personality and life battered away. You could still hear your husband’s jaded laughter as he made fun of John for wanting to marry Lizzie Stark, but mere minutes ago now seemed like a lifetime away.

Scudboat sat as Arthur poured him whisky, and he explained how the Lees, “the whole lot of ‘em”, came in and destroyed the betting backroom. He was ambushed, he said, or he would have done a better job defending it. You held Tommy’s hands as fear made your own shake, and your husband sighed. “Find what can be salvaged,” he said, narrowly missing John’s angry fit as he kicked a box over. “Anything is better than nothing.”

“This is terrible,” you sniffled, and Tommy extracted his handkerchief for you. It was one that you had bought for him right after you had gotten married and just before he went to war, and you were always amazed that the silky cloth made it as far as it did. You dabbed at your eyes, scowling at your dark makeup that came off, and your heart beat fiercely against your ribcage for a moment. “The children. Was Finn here for this, Scudboat? Or Thomasine?”

“Nah,” he said. “Finn was off in town; Thomasine ain’t come home from school yet.”

“Oh, Tommy, they can’t see the house like this!” you whimpered and clutched your husband’s arm. “It’ll upset Thomasine too much. I’ll fetch her from school and keep her away from the house for a while until this is mostly fixed.”

Tommy nodded wordlessly in agreement, and he began to take off his cap, but he quickly stopped. He was fixated on something on the floor at his feet, and you looked down to match his gaze, only to be greeted with the big leather book that held your most prized possessions: your photographs. You kept the album in the betting room because it was always filled with people, witnesses in case something happened, and, really, who would want to ruin Tommy Shelby’s wife’s photographs?

Your knees crunched on glass as you lowered yourself to the album, and you took it in your shaking hands. The dark green leather was stained black with spilled ink and oil, obscuring your gold-foiled name on the spine, and you opened the book with a creak of the old pages. You didn’t want to have to assess the damage, but the first page already had you weeping pathetically again. The first photograph, the first one ever taken of you and Tommy, sitting and laughing together as Ada tried out her new camera, years and years ago at fifteen and thirteen. It was gone. The page was yellowed all around where the photograph should be, but the picture itself was gone. You wanted to throw the book across the room and scream; you weren’t concerned with material things, many girls from Small Heath were the same way, but those photographs were your pride and joy. The next page was a formal picture taken of Tommy wearing his Army uniform, his lanky seventeen-year-old build a little too small for the uniform that he would grow into. The corner of the photograph was torn but, thankfully, mostly intact.

The third page made you press the book to your chest. Your wedding photographs. You and Tommy had gotten married quickly, two days before he had to go to France, and, in your haste, you hadn’t been able to afford much. You could only afford a single copy of each photograph: one of you in your Sunday best that was your wedding dress, one of Tommy in his uniform, and one of you together. All three photographs were torn to shreds, settled in the spine of the book, waiting for you to find them. Those wedding photographs were the most important thing in the world to you, and now they were gone. Not even pasting glue could fix it. “Tom!” you sobbed, pressing the back of your wrist to your mouth. “O-Our wedding photographs! Th-They’re all ripped up!”

Your husband’s attention went from Scudboat to you, and he walked over to you and knelt down next to you. He took the small bits of photographs in his fingers, examining them intently, and he sighed heavily. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, and your sobs grew heavy. If Tommy was resigned to fate, then there was no chance of them being fixed. “I’m sorry.”

“We-We don’t have any extras, do we?” you stuttered. Your mouth felt dry as your fingers tried to match the ripped edges of photographs up, but they were too far gone. “Tom, d-do we have any others? Th-These aren’t the only ones we have, right?”

Tommy sat down next to you and put an arm around you, and he watched you frantically sob for just a second more before he used his strength to pull you into his chest. The photo album fell out of your hands, and you clutched your husband as you wailed in sorrow. Your wedding photos were gone.

“Mummy?” you heard a little voice call from the doorway, and you turned to see your wee daughter, Miss Thomasine Sophia Shelby, standing at the door. She was holding her school books in her arms, the pink ribbon in her hair coming loose. Thomasine was born just after Tommy come home from France, five years ago, and she looked like a Shelby, dark hair and bright eyes, but she had her father’s smile. “Mummy, why’re you crying?”

You sniffled and wiped at your eyes, not caring that you streaked your makeup to hell and back, and you mumbled, “People came into the house, did us over. I-I’m just sad, that’s all.” You didn’t want to worry your daughter with the real reason why you were so upset, because, truly, you felt silly for being so distraught at fucking photographs. It felt ridiculous for you, as a grown woman, a mother, to be crying over photographs.

Thomasine ran to you and sat her small body in your lap, and she wrapped her small arms around you. “Don’t be sad,” Thomasine told you, and you laughed humorlessly. “It’s okay, Mummy.”

You sniffled and soothed your hand down Thomasine’s hair— the ends of her long hair were turning a little ginger, just the same as her father’s tended to do in the sun— and you kissed her forehead. “Thank you, love,” you whispered. “Hug your father, he’s sad too.”

Thomasine crawled out of your lap and into Tommy’s, and Thomasine started to suck her thumb as Tommy stood up and settled his daughter firmly on his hip. He offered you a hand to stand up, and you sniffled as you gathered the soiled photo album up in your grip and stood up on your own. “If you find any of ‘em,” Tommy called to the room, and he gestured to the album in your arms. “Bring ‘em to her, don’t waste time. Yeah?”

You hardly slept that night. After securing the house and making sure that there wasn’t any other part of it that the Lees had touched, you had tried to go about your life normally, but it was difficult to pretend like you didn’t know that, at any time, rivals could enter your home and slaughter every last one of you. You put Thomasine to bed after dinner, and your girl fell asleep quickly, but you yourself were awake for hours. Tommy had taken your photo album and put it away in his wardrobe; “If you keep it, you’ll fret over it forever.” He was right, of course, because, when the sun came up, you had tugged it out and was trying to sort through the scraps of photographs on your bedroom floor. The room was cold and part of you wished that you could be in bed, holding your husband close, but you needed to do it for yourself. You had managed to salvage a single photograph by the time Tommy was blinking himself awake, and you sniffled as you beckoned him over. “Tommy, look!” you exclaimed. “I-It’s Thomasine!”

“Jesus, woman,” Tommy sighed groggily. “Have you been at this all night?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed. “Her baby picture, look!”

Tommy reached down for you and he took your hand, and he helped you stand up, his hands going to hold your cheeks. “I know you’re having a hard time with this,” he whispered. “But obsessing over it is only going to make it worse. They’re as good as gone, darling.”

“B-But—” you sniffled, and Tommy shook his head.

“You have to let it go,” He told you firmly. “Come back to bed, you don’t have to be awake for hours.”

“Oh, Tommy,” you sighed, shuffling back up to bed. Your joints hurt from sitting on the floor practically all night, and your vision watered up as you watched Tommy gather up the album and photograph scraps and set them back in his wardrobe. “What am I going to do? All of my favorite memories are lost.”

“You still have the memories in your head, love,” Tommy told you, sitting next to you. You leaned into him and pressed your cheek to his warm chest, and you sniffled as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I just…” you mumbled. “Our wedding pictures is the thing I’m most upset about. We were so young, and that was before everything went to shit, and we were so happy…”

“We’re still happy,” Tommy assured you. “We’re happier now, because we have Thomasine. We’re a complete family now.”

“You know what I mean,” you said. “We were poor kids, and-and looking at those pictures gave me hope that you’d come home when you were in France. They were my lifeline for a long time, and to have them ruined like this…”

Tommy’s lips formed into a thin line, and he rubbed your back comfortingly as you finally laid down and tried to settle into sleep. Your sleep was thin, hardly even deep enough to call proper sleep, but you finally woke up and got out of bed when you heard shouting down in the bottom of the house. You were used to that, but you still felt like you ought to make sure everything was alright, so you pulled yourself from bed and went about groggily getting ready for the day, slipping on a dress and spraying on perfume before descending the stairs.

The noise seemed to be coming from the back room, the ruined betting room, and you carefully pushed back the plush curtains and opened the doors to see a sight. Your eyes first landed on your husband, dressed in his old uniform. It certainly looked too small for him, tugging a little at his chest, but you clenched your teeth together at the sight. How long has it been since you saw him in the pea-soup-green uniform? Five years, at least. “Tommy,” you said softly. You couldn’t help yourself from stepping closer to him as his head snapped to look at you, and his hard gaze softened in the way it always did when he saw you. He never subjected you to his steely gaze, and, whenever you saw it, it always reminded you of what a feared man he was.

“Fuck, love, what’re you doing down here?” Tommy asked. “You’re supposed to be asleep still.”

“Heard shouting,” you said softly. The other men were bustling around the room as you smoothed your hands up Tommy’s chest, and your eyes went all watery again. “This isn’t happening, please, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked. “Talk to me, darling, what’s the matter?”

“How long have you known?” you asked, sniffling. “Leaving us like this, how could you?”

“What?”

“The uniform, Tommy!” you cried. “You’re being called to the war again, why else would you have this shit on?”

Tommy grabbed your cheeks and kissed your forehead, and he angled your head to the side. Arthur stood there, behind a massive camera, angled at a blank space on the wall, and your breath caught in your throat. “What is this?” you asked.

“I’m not being called back,” Tommy explained. “I got to thinking about our wedding pictures, and I went to see the photographer who made them. He said the film was too old and that they couldn’t make you new copies, so the next best thing was to retake them.”

“Oh?” you asked. You sniffled and wiped your nose, and you gently reached out to touch the camera. “We… We’re retaking our wedding pictures?”

“With a few adjustments,” Tommy said. “Back then, I couldn’t afford to even get you so much as a bouquet, but now… Well, I took your measurements to a dress shop, and even though the dress was pre-made and only adjusted to you…”

“Tommy?” you whimpered.

“I got you a wedding dress, love,” Tommy told you. “Better than the flour-bag Sunday best that you had on.”

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, and you sobbed once before flying to your husband and crushing him in a hug. “Oh, Tommy!” you cried. “Thank you! Can I see it?”

“Pol’s got it in the kitchen,” Tommy told you. “Go put it on, why don’t you let me see it?”

The dress was beautiful. Eggshell-colored silk that fell below your knees with long sleeves and deep neckline, very fashionable and pretty, and it fit you like a glove as Polly helped you into it. She primped you a little, fixing your hair and patting red rouge onto your lips, and she upturned a vase next to the stove and handed you the bouquet of wildflowers that Thomasine had picked a few days earlier. You felt timid and almost nervous as Polly escorted you back to the betting room, and you cleared your throat once you passed the threshold, afraid that, if you spoke, your voice would give up on you.

Tommy looked to you in an instant, and he gave you a small smile as he stepped towards you. “Aren’t you a sight?” he said in his rumbling timbre, putting his hands on your hips, and he kissed your lips for a moment before he added, “Thomasine might get a brother before the day’s over, if you keep looking that beautiful.”

“Oh, shut up,” you giggled, and he steered you in front of the camera as you smoothed down your dress. You were suddenly nervous, and you clutched Tommy’s hand as Arthur cranked the camera, preparing it to go off. “Tom?”

“M’right here, pet,” Tommy said, squeezing your hand. “Just smile; everything will be fine.”

By the time night fell, you had a whole slew of new film, new pictures to replace the ruined ones. Recreations of your wedding pictures, an updated picture of a smiling Thomasine, even one of Tommy kissing you when the camera went off on accident. Thomasine was tangled in your skirts then, gazing up at her daddy, and you looked at the film as you sat by the fire that night, smiling and admiring it. That was your favorite memory; you, your husband, and your daughter, smiling, laughing, loving. It was perfect.

[superblysubpar]

siiiiiiiigh, taylor. you're the only one i trust with this and i don't know if you take requests but i'm desperate (like the i'm in pain + aching kind of desperate) for wealthy!steve to take us out on his lil yacht and absolutely rail us off the coast of italy :(

the song: Pineapple Slice by Tove Lo & SG Lewis

warnings: secluded public spot / Sorry I've never been to Italy, my only experience are slutty Joe pics & The Lizzie McGuire movie 🤷‍♀️

He turns his black baseball hat around for better access to your body. His lips skim the seam of your suit, thick fingers messing with the ties on your hips. He squeezes the plump skin, dragging and scratching down your thighs as he pulls the bikini bottom from your body. Your back arches against the leather cushions of the boatseat, hips lifting for him. The sun is blinding white - high in the sky, and the drip of cool ocean water from his hair soothes the sweat coating your body.

You whisper the name of the man you've just met when his nose skims up the inside of your legs, nipping at your thighs as his large hands push them wider for better access.

"Come on honey, need to taste you." The endearment falls easily from his lips despite knowing each other less than 24 hours. This isn't what you thought would be the aftermath of your night out with friends.

Green flashes and purple shimmers as base radiated from your feet into your chest. Sweet drinks and stealing cherries from everyone as you danced and bounced in the Italian club to a song you didn't know. Hips swaying to a good beat and when you turned, you saw him. He's smug, a lopsided smile, a hand running through chestnut hair. A glint in his hazel eyes and the flashes of green overhead illuminate the silver chain, the ring on his middle finger and the watch on his wrist that all scream money. A flirty line about how dancing like you were was dangerous, an offer of buying you bubbly expensive things that taste sweet on your tongue, and hands on your hips as your chests pressed closer, moving to the music together until your lips collided. All ending in an offer of taking you out on his boat tomorrow, a secluded little spot off the coast.

And here you are.

Steve's thumbs spread your lips for him, and his tongue licks a broad stripe through you. Thighs squeezing around his ears, muffling the sounds of the waves crashing into the rocks and the side of the boat. His mouth works lazily but precise as his hands roam under the curve of your ass. Pads of his fingers push into your skin, curvy and thick and he pulls you tighter around him, desperate for more. Tongue licking and swirling around your clit, mouth moving lower as he sucks one of your lips. A moan falls from your parched mouth and your toes curl as a rough wave rocks the boat, adding to the boil bubbling in your stomach.

He brings his attention back to the throbbing nerves, sucking around it and kitten licking with his tongue as a finger nudges at your entrance. One finger easily slips in, a second following and you clench around them as they curl. He finds the spot that has you lifting yourself off the seat. Your fingers tug in his wet locks, chest heaving as you look down at him. Sweat beads down the dip of your breasts as you plead his name, begging to release.

Steve removes himself, shaking his head no. His eyes are taken over by his black pupils, his dark chest hair curls with saltwater and sweat. He shoves the black wet fabric of his swimtrunks low enough to pull his throbbing length out. Your mouth waters at the sight of his muscles flexing as he tugs on himself, somehow getting harder and bigger. Lining the mushroom tip up with your entrance, Steve leans over you. He kisses your lips softly, tongue licking and tracing over your top lip until you sigh. The taste of yourself lingering, mixing with sweet fruit and salt from the ocean water that still clings to his tan and freckled skin.

Breath warm against your cheek as he whispers, "I need to be inside you when you cum, pretty girl."

You nod, desperate, your orgasm right on the cusp already and he lets his weight fall against you as he slides into your entrance in a quick and powerful thrust. Your cry against his lips has him squeezing at every ounce of your skin he can find. Lips drifting and pressing sweet kisses to your neck that contrast with the quick and sharp movements of his hips slapping against yours.

"Oh, fuck," your lashes are wet with tears at the ache in your gut, "Steve, I'm gonna cum!"

"Yeah?" He's breathless, groaning as your fingers scratch up his back.

The weight of his chest against yours is somehow comforting, and the pressure and graze of the thick hair at his base hitting the perfect spot that has you hanging on the edge of the cliff you've been climbing.

Steve's fingers rub messy circles into your puffy and needy clit, nerves vibrating beneath the pads of his fingers. He attaches his mouth to yours again as you take the jump, freefalling off the ledge until you hit the water. Walls tightening around him, body spasming beneath his. His release follows quickly, throbbing inside of you as he grips at your sides, squeezing and breathing your name into your parted lips.

He slows his thrusts, both of you gasping for air. Sounds of the waves return, the sun feels even warmer as the sweat falls off of both of your hot skin.

Steve reaches above your head, grabbing a piece of pineapple and holding it up to your mouth. You stare into each other's eyes, something in your gazes warming for each other as your breathless panting finds a rhythm together. Your lips wrap around the fruit, biting into the pineapple slice. Juice flows into your mouth, sweet and sticky and quenching a thirst you didn't know you had. Steve's thumb brushes over your bottom lip, tugging a little meanly until it pops back into place. He brings his thumb up to his lips and sucks the juice free from the skin.

The sun still has half the sky to conquer and you have no where to be other than on a boat off the coast of Italy with a rich boy who has an entire pineapple sliced and ready to feed you with.

---

----

-----

[wren-kitchens]

since there are awful people on this site, I am taking this time as an excuse to empty the silly au drabbles I have amassed over time onto here!

this one is also from the 'all hermits are hybrids and none of them know' au, but this time I inflicted my creeper brainrot onto the sillies

scar fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves as grian watches him. his expression is oddly reassuring—not pressuring him into anything, waiting patiently for when he’s ready.

“it, um.” scar runs his hand over the fuzz on his left arm. “you’re not going to tell anyone else, right?”

“of course not.” grian says immediately. 

scar nods, and takes a breath. “I- um. i’m a creeper hybrid.”

grian’s eyes widen, and scar’s stomach drops. is that a good-surprise or a bad-surprise?? oh gosh, what if he’s just ruined everything and grian hates him now and they’re never gonna be friends again and-

“me too.”

scar stares back. he- “you what?”

grian rolls up his sleeves to reveal dark green fuzz, almost identical to scar’s. “i’m also a creeper hybrid.” 

“you- i’m sorry, you are also a creeper hybrid, saw this,” scar gestures to the fuzz on the side of his face. “and thought ‘oh yeah, scar is just a normal human’?”

“I- you said it was moss!” grian protests, visibly trying not to laugh. “how was I meant to know!”

“common sense!” scar exclaims, giggling. “jimmy knew immediately after he saw me, and there aren’t even any creepers here!”

“you wear a mask!” grian says.

“you can still see the fuzz!” scar says.

“right, I need to know how jimmy knew this, because you didn’t know I was a creeper either apparently.” grian decides, and grabs his arm.

scar blinks at the periwinkle polish on his nails, and gives him a questioning look. grian groans. “oli did it. apparently my hands were ‘too boring’ for the olipeligo.”

“I thought scott was the colour man?” scar says, letting grian lead him in completely the wrong direction. 

“yeah, he stole it from scott.” grian grins at him.

“g, you are going the wrong way.” scar says.

“oh- I don’t know where anything is in this place.” grian says, and scar pulls him gently in the opposite way.

grian promptly falls directly into scar, who can’t help grinning. 

“i’m getting my tail out.” grian decides. “everyone here is a hybrid anyway.”

scar smirks. “that’s what she said-“

“oh, scar!”

-

“of course I knew!” jimmy is laughing at them both. “how could I not know? it was so obvious!”

“we didn’t know!” grian protests.

“yeah, ‘cause you guys are idiots.” jimmy says. “you were terrified of lizzie when you saw her! no one is scared of lizzie except for creepers and competing scam artists.”

scar stares at him. “she’s a cat?!”

jimmy laughs even harder, and if it weren’t such a lovely sound, scar would feel slightly slandered. “next you’re gonna tell me you didn’t know ren is a dog.”

scar can see grian’s mouth drop open out of the corner of his eye. “he’s what?!”

jimmy’s smile fades slightly. “you- no, you’re kidding.”

scar just shakes his head, dumbfounded. “not kidding.”

“he- seriously?!” jimmy exclaims. “he has dog ears!”

“I thought they were fake!” scar’s tail lashes behind him, and apparently this is the first time jimmy has seen it, because he gasps.

“wait, you guys have tails?” he says excitedly.

“yeah!” scar says. “i’m incredibly off balance if i’m hiding it—that’s why I wear skirts!”

“for people who are terrified of cats, you sure look like them.” jimmy says. 

“we do also hiss when we’re scared or angry.” grian says thoughtfully. “huh. why are we scared of cats?”

“uncanny valley, maybe?” scar suggests.

grian snaps his fingers. “that might be it.”

[blackdiamond1038]

Secret Life Secrets

Session 6

Green- Successful

Red- Failed

Scott: There is an assassination hit out on you from a non-red. If they do at least 10 hearts of damage to you (or through another’s actions) or you die, you fail. You have one shot to guess who it is and make them fail even if they already dealt the damage. (You must still get involved in conversations.)

Pearl: You are an imposter. You must approach any or multiple reds and secretly tell them this task. They can give you any task to damage a green player. If you successfully damage 3 different green names (for any amount) from their instructions, you pass. A yellow can call you out as a traitor at any stage. 

Gem: Nothing you say can be true for 30 minutes. If you tell the truth, you must start the timer again.

Jimmy: Task 1: Replace the water under the pink diving board with blue glass. You must not be caught. You succeed if they take damage from diving off. You fail if they find it or refuse to jump. Task 2: Punch another player into lava. It can be lava you have placed. [Died before succeeding or failing]

Mumbo: You are Grian’s terrible butler. You must do anything they say, but always get some aspect of it wrong. You can tell them you are their butler, but no one else. Task 1 [as a red]: Cause any amount of damage to a non-red using an anvil. Task 2: Build a TNT cannon and successfully hit a base from at least 50 blocks. Task 3: Strike a deal with a non-red to cause at least 3 hearts of damage to another non-red. You succeed when they have dealt the damage. [Died before succeeding or failing]

Grian: You declared yourself incorrectly successful last session. You must re-roll for harder task. [Re-roll for harder task] Etho is going to get a warden to the surface. You must get a wither. Make them do battle. You can work together to make this battle happen. The fight must take place in a central location.

Etho: You ended up with Pearl’s book at the end of last session. You must re-roll for harder task as punishment. [Re-roll for harder task] Grian is going to get a wither. You must get a warden to the surface. Make them do battle. You can work together to make this battle happen. The fight must take place in a central location. Deep dark can be found at -671 -30 1875.

Lizzie: Task 1: Use redstone to damage a non-red player. You cannot hit them with the item, it must be a machine or trap of some kind. Task 2: Summon a mod using an egg to deal any damage to a green. [Succeeded, but died before pressing the button]

Impulse: You are in a game of chicken with Scar and Bdubs. You pass if you win more than 3 chicken competitions. Anyone can declare a round of chicken as long as it’s something that will cause damage.

Bdubs: You are in a game of chicken with Scar and Impulse. You pass if you win more than 3 chicken competitions. Anyone can declare a round of chicken as long as it’s something that will cause damage.

Scar: You are in a game of chicken with Bdubs and Impulse. You pass if you win more than 3 chicken competitions. Anyone can declare a round of chicken as long as it’s something that will cause damage.

Skizz: You are now the therapist of the server. For the rest of the session, you must guide and give other players advice in a professional manner. The advice does not need to be good advice. You must help players to acknowledge and negative feelings. You cannot directly solve their problems, you are there only for emotional support. You fail if called out by a yellow. You can pass early if you give therapeutic advice to every other player at least once. You can only help someone if they appear down or frustrated. 

Joel: You are Scott’s assassin. You must deal a minimum of 10 hearts of damage to them to succeed. You can use other people or any means you please. But if you are called out by them as the assassin, you fail, even if you already dealt the damage. They only have one guess.

Martyn: Task 1: Hit a green name with a sword until they block you with a shield. If you kill them, you also succeed. Task 2: Cause any amount of damage to a non-red using an anvil. Task 3: Strike a deal with a non-red to cause at least 3 hearts of damage to another non-red. You succeed when they have dealt the damage. Task 4: Summon a mod using an egg to deal any damage to a green. [Unfinished this session]

BigB: Everytime someone takes damage, tell them much too late how it could have been avoided. If you see them about to take damage, you must also warn them too late.

Tango [Ren]: You have an imaginary friend who is exactly like Tango. Talk to Tango as if they follow you around the whole session and are part of conversations. You must interact with other players. 

Cleo: Everyone else knows what your task is. Figure it out and do it. They can’t tell you what it is but they can say warmer and colder when you attempt something. A yellow cannot call out this task as everyone already knows what it is. You cannot ask, you must attempt to do it. [At the end of all non-red player’s tasks, the rules for Cleo’s task were explained. This is what it was: Cleo’s task is: “Stand in a circle of different kinds of flowers and spin” You can’t tell her what it is, but you can say warmer and colder as she tries to figure it out. You can tell her when she’s done it. The rest of the server knows her task, she does not. She has to figure it out.]

This session was absolutely insane.

Lemme know if I missed something!

[kaihuntrr]

part one: when the sun was eclipsed.

Grian remembers of a time when Jimmy was still around. And what happened to him.

Another day, another perfect time to set sail.

Another chance to strike at the beasts that terrorized the people.

Grian stood proudly at the bow, facing the large iron gate in the distance. He saw the large shadow cast by the stone walls, its darkness providing a sense of safety to the town’s citizens with  a glint of the canons that adorned the top. It was a ready defense from any invading monsters, though they never dared to swim close to the islands. Maybe those monsters had some intelligence after all if they knew to stay away from the kingdom. They were protected by the king, the navy, and the hunters, each one ensuring humanity could live and thrive within the walls. It was good. It was perfect. 

It was home. 

It was going to be another exciting day. The crew planned to sail off into the sea, to find some beasts to kill, and to return to the love and warmth of the people and recover. Prepare, leave, kill, return, rest, then repeat. The simple, monotonous life of a hunter was easier said than done. A lot of hunters risked their lives every day to keep the people safe and sound. It was one of the most noble deeds a person could do in their life- it was even more noble to be acknowledged by the king himself. 

One day, this crew was going to earn the king’s approval. They had already slain small packs of those disgusting monsters, an impressive feat compared to the one or two beasts other crews their age had taken down. It was only a matter of time before the king addressed him, his brothers, and their crew. Then, they’d be hunters for the king– better than all the rest! It was going to be one of the best days of their lives, he just knew it. 

After all, he was the cunning Grian Solidarity. He was the youngest of his family and had the biggest hunger to prove himself on the wild seas. He and his brothers had made this crew not too long ago, and with how much money they’d been raking in, they just had to be the best out of all the people their age! The amount of people who had looked down on them for just being green, overeager upcomers wasn’t surprising, but Grian could bet those people were eating their own insults now. They just had to be!

Grian rested his hands on the railing, breathing in the fresh air, and hummed in delight. The ship was prepared to set sail and the others would likely return before the gates were scheduled to open. He’d done his part- checking on the weapons and restocking the ship with ammo was pretty easy when he was with Mumbo and Scar- so he had the luxury of sitting back, relaxing while waiting for the others to get on board–

“Grian?” He jumped at the sound of his name. He turned around to see Joel looking around, worried. “Have you seen Jimmy? I haven’t seen him anywhere.” Grian frowned, suddenly concerned.

Jimmy had been acting weird lately. Not only had he gotten that flower tattoo out of nowhere, but he’d been acting a lot more aloof on their hunting trips too. He’d been acting like that for a couple of months at least. He had been pretty scared of the ocean before, when they were younger, but a little exposure therapy didn’t hurt and he’d been fine. It also wasn’t the first time that he had wandered around like this- but he usually came back well before the ship would set sail.

Grian hummed, trying to recall if he had seen his brother in the past few… hours, probably. He ran through where he’d last seen the other members of their crew. He’d seen Cleo hanging around with Mumbo, Scar and Bdubs were doing something together, and Lizzie was out in the port talking to Martyn before he was due to set off with the Kestrels. Grian remembered catching Joel glancing at Lizzie a dozen times earlier, silently wishing she could join them on their hunts. “...No, I haven’t,” he finally said, putting a hand on his chin. “Any idea where he’d be?”

“No, that’s why I was asking you in the first place…,” Joel grumbled. “He’s probably in the harbor somewhere, let’s go look for him.”

“But I just got comfortable…,” Grian jokingly complained. One sour look from Joel made him roll his eyes and relent. Jimmy knew this town like the back of his hand, just like the rest of them. He wasn’t lost, Grian was sure of it. “Fine. But Tim’s probably just wandering around again. You know how he is.” He shrugged. Joel made a small frown and sighed, but followed Grian as the two descended from the ship and into the hustle and bustle of the port town behind them.

—————

So maybe Jimmy had gotten lost somewhere in town.

How was Grian supposed to know that?

Even so, he probably wouldn’t be too hard to find. It wasn’t like the town was… big.

Grian and Joel scoured the marketplace, one of the busier sides of town, in hopes they’d run into Jimmy there. It wasn’t an unusual spot for them to frequent, considering all the supplies and ammo they had to restock themselves with every time they came back to port, so Grian was sure that Jimmy would be around here. Maybe he was buying something for the crew? That would be really nice of him.

Grian looked around the marketplace, seeing a variety of townsfolk going about their day, pointing at imported fabrics, trying out newly minted tools, and smelling the fresh food from different restaurants and stalls. He could hear everything, from barters between villagers to the giggles of children to older men bickering with each other about their wives. The place was alive; it felt so amazing to get lost in the crowd, but there wasn’t any trace of his brother. 

He looked at Joel and gestured to the crowd and nodded. Joel nodded back, understanding the thought Grian had in mind. It was best to split up.

Grian slipped away into the crowd of people and cupped his mouth. “Tim!” he shouted, looking around. “Come on Tim- we have to leave soon!”

“Jim, this isn’t funny!” Joel called out from somewhere behind him. “Where are you?”

The brothers sifted through the crowd, looking around for any sign that their brother might’ve been around. It shouldn’t have been too hard– he’d gotten himself lost before, and Grian and Joel were always able to find him. The only annoying bit was how often Jimmy got lost. They had been in and around this town for more than a year! He should know his way around at least!

“There he is!” Joel called out, pointing up the street to one of the narrow streets to where Jimmy had just exited from. Jimmy looked around for a moment, apparently not seeing them, then exhaled what seemed to be a sigh of relief as he shook his head. He turned and started walking in the direction of the ship. 

Grian and Joel pushed through the crowd, calling out for their brother as he still seemed to not notice them, even as they grew closer. Grian was sure he was shouting- why hadn’t Jimmy noticed yet?

“Tim! Tim!” Grian called out for what felt like the hundredth time, the sound finally registered. Jimmy turned around and looked at his brothers with wide eyes, allowing them to catch up to him. Grian crossed his arms as he stood in front of him, “Where were you?”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his head and forced an awkward smile. “Nowhere important, just had to check up on something.” His eyes darted around, looking at anything but Grian and Joel. “Sorry if I scared you a bit, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“We’ve been looking for you for the past thirty minutes,” Joel groaned, “And this isn’t the first time you’ve vanished right before launch. There has to be some reason you’ve been wandering off.”

Jimmy frowned and looked down at the ground, as if unsure of himself. There had to be some type of problem making him act the way he was. Why couldn’t he just tell them…? They were brothers and there were no secrets between them. What could possibly be so serious and so secret-?

“Like I said, it’s nothing for you to worry about,” Jimmy insisted, his voice more stern. It sounded almost like he was on edge. Then he paused, slightly shaking his head. “We’re leaving soon right? I’m not late, so it’s fine.”

Joel looked unhappy about that answer, crossing his arms. “That’s the plan.” He looked briefly up at the sky then back down to Jimmy. “I think everyone else is back on board, we should get moving.” He looked over the other ships as other hunters prepared for their own voyages, still frowning.

“Definitely,” Jimmy agreed. He looked back and forth from the ships to his brothers, a smirk forming on his face. That look of mischievousness tended to show up when he’d thought of something stupid. “How about we race to the ship?”

Grian shot a glance at Joel, an unspoken scheme passing between them, then he looked back to Jimmy. “So long as you don’t trip over a bunch of swords and impale yourself….” Grian shrugged nonchalantly, earning a small snicker from Joel and a bright blush of embarrassment on Jimmy’s face.

“Wh- I’m not that clumsy!” Jimmy sputtered, his shoulders rising as he started shaking his head adamantly.

Yeah right, Grian almost said, but he kept it to himself.

Joel grinned, “Sure you are! Out of all of us, you’re gonna be the one to die first, probably doing something stupid,” he pushed Jimmy aside, breaking into a run as Grian followed right behind him. 

“And you’re slow too!” Grian called out, glancing behind him momentarily to see the stunned look on Jimmy’s face.

“Wh- no countdown?! You’re supposed to do a countdown!” Jimmy shouted as he scrambled after them, “Oh you’re gonna get it! Cheaters!”

Grian and Joel laughed as Jimmy attempted to catch up, chasing after them like they had chased each other as kids. Their hearty laughter filled the air, breaking whatever tension there had been between them. Nothing but bright smiles and exhausted breaths hung between them as they boarded the ship, teasing and prodding each other all the way up the gangplank, sharing childish grins and teasing until it was finally time for those iron gates to open once more.

—————

The sea had a calmness to it.

A still, uneasy calmness that Grian couldn’t quite describe.

He could remember the stories hunters would tell each other; how the apparent silence meant an easy voyage for sailors, but the moment that hunters let their guard down a swarm of beasts would descend upon the ship. That was how arrogant hunters met their doom, because they’d doubted their enemy. A good hunter would never let their guard down, would train to keep their skills sharp, and would never doubt their enemy’s power. 

Grian stood in the crow’s nest, using a telescope to search the ocean for any sign of monsters. He didn’t see much, just a quiet, endless ocean. The one thing he was slightly unnerved with was the lack of birds perched on the ship, there weren’t even any in the skies. Though… maybe that was a good thing? He wasn’t too sure.

It must be nice, being able to fly wherever you want.

Their crew was far from the Crown Isles. It had been two and a half days of straight voyaging, and Grian had begun to get quite bored. It was all the same monotonous routine without a monster to fight. There wasn’t that much to do on a ship except sleep, read, or play games. Things would just get interesting later, but ‘later’ was so far away….

He could hear faded conversations from his friends down below and the distant rumble of the engine. Sighing to himself and deciding that the coast was clear, Grian shut his telescope and tucked it away in his bag. He made his way down the wooden ladder, feeling the nice breeze on his skin and breathed it in.

“See anything from up there?” Joel called out from the steering wheel. 

Grian shook his head. “Nothing, so we can relax for a little while longer,” he shrugged, looking up at Joel. “It’s a nice break.”

“It sure is!” Joel replied.

Grian looked across the deck to see Jimmy and Scar having a pleasant conversation. Grian felt his heart swell at the sight of Scar’s goofy grin. He was such a lovable idiot. He felt his heart skip as the two locked eyes and Scar waved him over.

“Heya, captain!” Scar swung his arm around Grian the moment he arrived, “What’d you see up there?”

“I haven’t seen anything, so no worries there.” Grian pushed Scar’s arm away and shook his head. “What were you two talking about?”

Jimmy widened his eyes and shot a glance at Scar. Scar didn’t notice as he immediately responded, “Oh! Jimmy here was talking about this gift he’d give you-.” Jimmy immediately swatted his arm, then looked away in embarrassment. Scar paused, then slowly turned to Jimmy, “...Was I not supposed to say that?”

“Scar!” Jimmy groaned, his cheeks getting redder and redder as he covered his face with his hands with a groan. “Go get Joel, now that you’ve ruined it…!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Scar laughed, walking away. “But I still think that idea of yours is really cute!”

Grian’s gaze followed Scar for a short while as he walked up the deck, then he blinked and looked back at Jimmy. “Gift…?” He raised an eyebrow, looking suspiciously at Jimmy’s hands, now firmly stuffed into his pockets.

“I- I thought you two might like something since I’ve been off doing… other stuff lately,” Jimmy raised his shoulders, his voice growing softer. “I got a gift, something for all three of us.”

Jimmy flinched as he heard Joel’s hearty laugh. “Jim got a present for his little brothers?” Joel grinned mockingly. “I was wondering when you’d stop slacking off and fulfill your duty as the oldest to spoil your little brothers!”

Jimmy’s expression soured. “Wh-! Well if you have that attitude with me, I’m not giving it to you!” He huffed, but Grian could see the facsimile of the stern look on Jimmy’s face. Grian raised his eyebrows and shook his head as Joel rolled his eyes.

“Aw, Jiiim…!” Joel cooed, tilting his head, trying to get Jimmy to look at him with his sweet-little-brother puppy-dog eyes. They usually worked. “Come on, please?” Jimmy’s expression soured further but it only gave Joel an evil glint in his eyes. “Don’t make me do it.” Silence. Joel rolled his eyes and nudged Grian, both of them snickering as Joel took in a deep breath.

Then, he did what he’d always done since they were kids: being lovingly annoying to their eldest brother.

“Please please please please-.”

One of Jimmy’s eyes twitched as he shot a deathly glare at Joel. “Joel, quit it!”

“You forced me,” Joel said defensively, shrugging almost helplessly with a smug look on his face. In a blink, he was back to puppy-dog eyes. “Jiiiiimmm…!”

Jimmy sighed, relenting as he relaxed his shoulders. “Sometimes I wish I could stay mad at both of you forever,” he tilted his head in exasperation. “I got these.”

Jimmy pulled out two small things from his pocket. 

Lockets.

They were small and oblong, silver teardrops carved with their initials on one side and a long feather on the back. They hung from silver chains with delicate little clasps. Jimmy gave them the locket with their respective initials. Grian stared at it with wide starry eyes. He opened the locket and gasped.

“Th- these are….”

“Remember the photo we took on the day we got this ship?” Jimmy asked fondly. “I was able to make some copies- and I got them in a nice locket for all of us!” 

The locket’s picture was of the three of them standing together with their ship behind them, all nice and new. Grian remembered that day fondly- all the emotions they’d had when finishing their training to be hunters, the well wishes of their parents and support of their friends, and finally seeing the ship they’d call their own.

It was all so… perfect. 

“Do you like it…?”

“It’s… it’s wonderful, Tim,” Grian was speechless, shifting his hand around to examine the locket from all sides. “I love it.”

“Yeah… these are great gifts, Jim,” Joel nodded, unclasping his locket to put it around his neck. “They’re the perfect good luck charms.”

“You think so?” Jimmy smiled as Grian and Joel nodded in agreement. “Oh that’s great, there’s a little something special in them, too.”

“It’s pretty special as is, Jim,” Joel kept his eyes on the locket, looking at it from every angle with adoration, “what’s there to top?”

“It’s a surprise, so you’ll figure it out.”

“Have it your way, Tim.” Grian stuck his tongue out as he slipped his locket on. Though, he did appreciate a good mystery, so cracking the surprise was definitely going to be a fun pastime of his. “Anyway, since there aren’t any monsters around, how about we share a toast?” He clapped his hands together and looked at his brothers eagerly.

“Are you sure about that?” Joel asked, wariness rang in his voice. “We’re out at sea, G, you wouldn’t want–!”

“It’s alright, we’ll be fine!” Grian waved his hand in dismissal. “We haven’t seen a beast for days! Just a drink or two won’t be too much of a hassle. Martyn isn’t here so we don’t have a problem with drunks or lightweights!” 

“You make a good point…,” Joel muttered, relenting a little. Jimmy glanced at him and shook his head, but Joel shrugged. “Fine. Just a drink or two.”

Grian nodded and put a hand to his chest. “Just one or two, promise.”

The crew did have a few barrels of liquor stashed away, and it would be a waste to keep those down there forever. The three of them got to work bringing some of the barrels up, and with some coaxing, the rest of the crew got together to share a few drinks. It’d help with the boredom, but it was also to take some of their edges off, as there were tales of hunters being overly paranoid and turning on each other while out to sea… those were definitely some odd stories.

Grian sipped some of the ale in his mug, swirling the burning liquid as he looked on at his crew. Scar, Joel and Cleo were passing jokes around, Mumbo was explaining something to Bdubs, who didn’t look like he was retaining any of it, and Jimmy was… well, he was by himself, standing at the railing and staring off into the water.

“Hey.” Jimmy flinched at Grian’s voice as he approached. Grian gave his brother a smile, but his eyes widened when he saw Jimmy… dumping his drink over the side of the ship? “Uh- are you good, Tim?”

Jimmy blinked. “Wh- oh! Whoops,” he grinned sheepishly as he quickly reoriented his cup and frowned at the alcohol remaining. “Guess my head’s starting to buzz now, huh?” 

“What’re you doing over here, instead of over there with everybody else?” Grian tilted his head towards the rest of their crew. They looked happy, all together like that. They were having fun. “Unless you want to be alone for a little while…?”

“I don’t mind the company–,” Jimmy said quickly, looking at the sea. “It’s… it’s nice that everyone’s enjoying themselves.” He almost looked withdrawn, like the alcohol was making him more sad than happy. Grian frowned. Jimmy was usually a loud, boisterous drunk, teetering on being overly friendly– not this.

“Yeah, but you should be enjoying yourself too,” Grian nudged Jimmy’s shoulder. 

“Grian…, I know you want me to have fun but…,” Jimmy sighed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for everyone to get drunk. Someone should keep watch, keep the ship from getting into any trouble….” He trailed off, but Grian could see his eyes shift to Bdubs as his voice lowered.

Grian took a quick glance at Bdubs, seeing how happy the man was with the rest of the crew. It was hard to imagine such a bubbly man starting his hunting career off with a death.

The Storm Chaser had been a fine ship, boasting a streak of thirteen beasts slain each month, and one of their members was Bdubs’ brother, Pungence. With its iron and brass covered hull and naval blue and blood red sails, it was easy to spot the ship out in the waters.

Which made the discovery of its wreckage all the more horrifying. 

It was said that the crew was arrogant enough to let their guards down, only for a beast to come and tear their ship apart. Grian remembered Bdubs adamantly pushing against the story and blamed it on something else- like faulty machinery or an ambush, though he couldn’t remember much from before he’d been found floating amongst the wreckage. Grian wasn’t sure what to think about it.

Grian shook his head. “We won’t get into any trouble today, Tim, we’ll be okay,” he put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and smiled warmly. Jimmy was still a little antsy, but a good drink could loosen him up enough to let go of his worries. “So come on! Let’s go join them!” He caught Jimmy by the elbow, pulling him across the deck to where the others were. 

He tried not to pay too much attention to how Jimmy flinched when he’d grabbed his arm.

“Grian, I-....” Jimmy stopped after just a few steps. Grian furrowed his eyebrows as Jimmy’s eyes widened and looked around, like he was expecting to see something, only for him to shake his head and smile when there was nothing there. Grian wasn’t sure if it was genuine or not. He was really regretting the buzz in the back of his skull. It made it hard to think, hard to read Jimmy as he said, “...Sure. Let’s go see them.”

Grian took a few steps forward, but started walking quicker as he saw the smiling faces of his friends, his crew. He practically dragged Jimmy all the way to the others. It didn’t seem to bother Jimmy too much, at least Grian didn’t think so. “Hey! Guess who made it?” Grian chuckled mischievously as Jimmy rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Jimothy!” Bdubs giggled as they walked up, finally blinking out of his blank stare to wave wildly at them. “There you are!” He slung his arm around Jimmy, the sudden motion startling the man. Bdubs’ grin only grew wider. “Aw come on! Don’t be so jumpy!” 

“Are you sure they’re not drunk?” Jimmy whispered to Grian as he glanced at the others, but his voice was still loud enough for the rest of the crew to hear.

“What? We’re fine,” Bdubs shook his head, dismissing the notion. “Just wanted to mess with you, captain. What’s with the drinks all of a sudden?”

“Can’t we just have a drink every once in a while?” Grian chuckled bashfully. He took a sip from his own mug. “I don’t want you all going insane.”

“Can’t go insane when we’re all messing with Jim! You’re heaps of entertainment!” Joel laughed as he wrapped his arm around Jimmy’s neck, pulling him down with such force that it sloshed the few remaining drops of his drink down Jimmy’s shirt. Joel paused, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at his brother, slowly taking in the solemn, almost distant look on Jimmy’s face. “Why do you look so upset?”

“I-... it’s nothing. It’s hard to talk about, that’s all.” Jimmy looked away. “But don’t worry about me!” He raised his hands, forcing a laugh, “Let’s just finish the rest of the drinks.”

“We’ll stop worrying when you stop being so sad,” Cleo mumbled amusingly, not a trace of malice in their voice as they took a swig of their mug. Grian wasn’t sure how many times she’d drank out of it, but he didn’t remember seeing her refill it at all. “But whatever you say, captain.”

Grian downed the rest of his drink, savoring the burning feeling. It was always fun to drink with friends, much more so when they were all having a good time. Grian easily let the world slip out of focus with his friends- his family right in front of him, so he didn’t notice the weather turning. 

He didn’t notice the dark clouds covering the sky. He didn’t notice when the chill breeze of the ocean turned freezing on his skin. And he didn’t notice how much the waves had begun to sway the ship from side to side with how much he was swaying on his own. He couldn’t focus on much with his buzzing head, even if–

“GUYS!” Scar’s sudden shout alerted the entire crew. “It’s a storm! Watch out for beasts!”

That wasn’t good.

“Get to your positions, quickly!” Grian shouted. “A storm could spell trouble!”

The crew immediately flew to their positions. Scar climbed up to the crow’s nest as fast as he could, Cleo ran towards one of the cannons with Joel beside her on the left, Jimmy and Mumbo ran to the right to hold their cannons, and Grian picked up a harpoon and dashed to the bow of the ship.

Thunder rumbled overhead, the waves began to crash against the hull of the ship. Storms were fine. They’ve weathered some nasty storms in the past, and this one was just the same as the others–!

Then Grian heard something.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

What was that sound? A heartbeat-? His-? Then why did it sound like it was coming from the water? 

Then the ship suddenly began to tilt sideways, the deck slanting under their feet.

“H-Hold on tight!” Grian grabbed the closest railing and held on for dear life as the ship continued to tilt. He was closest to Jimmy and Mumbo, the three of them clinging to the railing. Grian shook his head, squinting at the water as he attempted to get a look at the monster.

He couldn’t see any sign of the beast, not its jaws or body. The whole sea around them had turned dark from the storm, too dark for the creature’s silhouette to be visible under the surface.

Rain fell out of the sky and crashed on the deck, pelting the surrounding seas in a blurry mess as Grian struggled to see. The odd, rhythmic tha-thumps drummed in Grian’s ears, the only thing he could hear over the howling wind and the booming thunder. Wind whipped around, further obscuring Grian’s vision.

Then Grian’s whole body froze as a bone-chilling trill reverberated through the depths, making his teeth rattle in his skull. 

The sound reverberated through the chaos of the sea, rumbling the wood and steel of the ship, and down to Grian’s very soul. That sound… it didn’t sound like anything like the beasts he took down in the past. The hand gripping the harpoon trembled as he tried to look for the beast in the water.

The ship continued to tilt. 

“Why aren’t any of you firing?!” Joel snapped, his voice barely audible above the sounds of the sky and sea. 

“There isn’t anything to shoot!” Grian shouted back, lifting his harpoon high for the chance of this beast to reveal itself. Nothing- nothing at all. Grian’s heartbeat quickened, searching desperately for a shadow in the water. A beast couldn’t hide itself as it was attempting to flip over an entire ship…! It needed to have a shadow! There had to be some kind of shadow! His eyes turned further out, where the water turned lighter very suddenly, almost in a defined line…. 

What if-.... That couldn’t be possible, could it? “U- unless….”

Unless the dark sea surrounding the ship was all a part of the monster’s large shadow.

Grian heaved his arm forward and threw the harpoon into the water, using all of his strength to plunge the blade as deep into the water as he could manage.

The ship suddenly jerked sideways as a loud, earth-shaking growl rumbled through the waters.

Grian lost his grip on the railing, his foot slipping out from under him on the slick deck. He pitched backwards, but the deck fell away under him as the whole ship turned sideways. He felt himself bounce across the deck, scraping the back of his arms and shoulders as he flipped over. One of his hands somehow managed to grab onto a rope, bringing him to a sharp, sudden stop that wrenched his shoulder. Grian heard himself let out a cry of pain that he didn't fully realize he'd made. He looked up, blinking water out of his eyes just in time to watch a shape fall past him-

Jimmy.

Grian let go of the rope and kicked off the sideways deck before he even realized he was moving, just barely clearing the railing as the ship rocked back the other way to right itself.

He plunged into the icy water, already reaching for his brother.

Grian’s body froze as the icy water closed over his head, shock startling his nerves. He pushed through, kicking towards the surface. His head burst out of the water, salt stinging his eyes as he turned his head frantically to look for Jimmy. He couldn’t be too far- maybe he was in shock, maybe so much so that he couldn’t move! Grian turned his head more frantically. He needed to get to him, he needed to find him!

He spotted Jimmy farther out, treading water. The ship must’ve launched him far. With a fire in his heart, Grian began to push through the waves, swimming closer and closer to his brother, every breath fueling him forward. “Tim! Tim!”

“Grian?!” Jimmy turned around. His eyes widened in shock and he glanced from the water around him then back to Grian. He held his hand up. “Grian wait-!”

“Jimmy!” Grian called out, “I’m coming to you! Just hold on!”

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

The beast was nearby, probably circling around them. They would be fine- they had to be fine. Grian still had his guns and Jimmy had his dagger. Whatever beast it was could live another day, he didn’t care if it got away! Grian was only focused on getting to Jimmy and getting them both back on the ship.

But Jimmy was shaking his head as Grian continued to swim up to him. In fact- he seemed to be moving further away…!

Jimmy’s face twisted into something painful and almost apologetic. “Grian, I’m sor–!”

A large red fin flashed out of the water and-... Jimmy was gone.

Grian stared at the place where Jimmy had been. 

He could hear his friends’ shouts, muffled and distant to his ears. His stare was hollow and empty as the rhythmic noise slowly faded into nothingness. The monster was gone, and it had taken Jimmy with it.

Grian’s whole world had shattered in a heartbeat.

He didn’t hear himself scream, agony ripping out of his chest. He didn’t stop until his throat gave out.

—————

It had been at least two days since the hunters escaped from Crescent Bay.

Grian was sitting behind the large desk of the captain’s quarters, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. He was still shaken from the events at Crescent Bay, and judging by the general silence of the ship, everyone else was too, stuck processing it all like a bad nightmare that wouldn’t go away no matter how high the sun rose. 

What bothered Grian the most were that sea prince’s eyes. They were the same ones Martyn scribbled on his sketchbook, before he’d disappeared. The encounter played in his head over and over. The bellowing thunder, the flashing lightning, the echoing heartbeat–

Grian paused.

…Echoing heartbeat?

Something- some thought or distant memory was tugging on his brain. Grian sat forward, rubbing his forehead in thought. The familiar yet unfamiliar sound of a loud heartbeat drummed in his mind as he wracked his brain. He remembered that he’d heard that sound before, but the part that was bothering him was where. He drew his eyebrows together, holding both sides of his face as he sunk back into his chair.

He remembered hearing that heartbeat when he and Cleo were in the cave.

He remembered faintly hearing it faintly just before Martyn went under with that scuttler.

…He remembered hearing the noise just before Jimmy died.

Tha-thump.

Grian slowly sat up.

…There was no way….

Tha-thump.

…It couldn’t have been his imagination, could it…?

Tha-thump.

So the beast that killed Jimmy was…!

“Grian, I’m sor–!”

Grian laid his head on his desk. The echo of his memory screamed in agony. He tried not to echo it as salt stung his eyes. His throat felt torn.

A sea prince.

A sea prince killed his brother.

Grian cradled the locket he had worn buried in his shirt for so long, the last thing Jimmy ever gave him.

As soon as they caught that sea prince, he’d rip its heart out.

[xxblairexxss]

Hunt Game (Charles Leclerc x reader) (p.4)

Series contain stalking, harrasment, sexual violence.

Word count : 5.9k

Masterlist

What happened when Charles stopped believing in you and you were left all alone.

Chapter 4

"Leave it there, baby. I’ll take care of it.” Charles went to pick up a call that had been ringing for the past few minutes while he was helping you organise your luggage for the holiday. Upon discussions among the group over the past months, they had agreed to go with Greece for this year’s break.

It was their tradition even before you started dating Charles. Though most of them work in different professions now, they were willing to apply for a break weeks prior, adjusting their schedule to match Charles’ just to keep the tradition going, and it was really sweet how strong the friendships were.

The flight was scheduled to be a few hours away, and you still couldn’t make up your mind about which dresses you should opt for. Asking your fiancé wasn’t helping at all because he would always say, "You’ll look great in anything," but that surely wasn’t the answer you were looking for, so you had been staring at your dresses that were draped on the bed. Your white duvet wasn’t even white anymore. It was full of different colours from your colourful summer dresses.

The phone on the bedside table rang as it vibrated. The number alone was enough to send chills. It was the same number that had been bothering you for weeks now. There wasn’t any need to think twice as you rejected the call and diverted your attention back on the clothes. All you had to do is ignore him and think of something else. It will stop one day. You just needed to be patience. The peace didn’t last for long because it rang again the next second, over and over until you set the phone to power off.

"Y/N? Anything wrong?" Charles came in and pulled your attention away from the black screen of your phone that was thrown on the bed.

"N—no, not at all. Who was it?” You looked up as he strode in front of you to stroke his thumb on your cheek.

"Oh, it was the team. I asked them to update my schedule, and they needed to ask for my confirmation. Did Lizzy call you? I thought I heard your phone ring."

"Lizzy? Oh, yeah, she did. Um, she just asked me if I had finished packing my stuff." The dark green and rose floral-printed dresses in front of you didn’t look as exciting as they were when your mind was clouded with the number. What else did he want from you.

"Oh, I bought this on my way home earlier.” A small box of prescription medicine that was left on the dressing table was handed to you, making you stared at it in question.

"This is for...?”

He cackled and leaned in to kiss your hair. "You haven’t been feeling very well, haven’t you? I have been waking up to the sound of you throwing up every morning since a few days ago.” Heaving a sigh, Charles took a seat in front of you as he caressed your thigh. You knew what he was going to suggest, so you shook your head, beaming. "What?" His wrinkles around his eyes became more prominent.

You ended up laughing along with him. "We can’t not go on this trip, honey. They have been very excited about it."

"They’ll understand if I say you haven’t been feeling well.” He squirmed as you pinched on his waist.

"Are you throwing me under the bus?” You gasped dramatically while he tried to get away.

"But it’s the truth, baby! Or could it be food poisoning, no?” He eventually held your hand and brushed his lips along your fingers, stopping you from pinching his body. "Did you eat something wrong?"

"I don’t know! I ate the same thing you did. We should have suffered together.” You pursed your lips and pulled his face closer to peck at his cheek. "Let’s go! We shouldn’t be late."

"Says someone who still had tonnes of clothes here.” He picked up a dress and casually put it in the luggage, thinking he’s lending you a hand.

"I don’t want to wear that one!” You frowned, the white dress was being thrown back on the bed as Charles blinked, confused with how your mind works.

"Then why did you even bring it out?" He asked.

“Because I thought I wanted to wear them!”

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charlesleclerc has added to their story

ynusername has added to their story

The light from the bathroom and the sound of water constantly flowing pulled him from his dream. The empty bedside had given him the answer he needed as he dragged himself off the bed to check on you.

You felt his presence on the door frame before he could take a breath. The first night of the holiday couldn’t be even worse than this. You thought you were feeling better. You could joke around, playing games, laughing around for hours, thinking you could ditch on the medicine but your beauty sleep was cut short when you felt the need to eject all of the contents in your stomach the next morning.

"Sorry for waking you up.” Groaning, you lifted up your head to turn off the faucet as your fiancé stepped in.

"It’s alright." He breathed out and tugged his chin against your head as you leaned against his chest. Your body was definitely hot, even when there were layers of clothes between his skin and yours. "Have you taken the medicine?"

"No, I thought it had stopped.” You were so sleepy, but even when you closed your eyes, the constant feeling of something pushing everything in your stomach up to your throat would just kick the drowsiness away. Laying down made it even worse, and you were so worn out from having to run back to the toilet. Perhaps you could continue the last 2 hours before sunrise by sleeping in the bathtub, that way you wouldn’t have to rush when the nauseous hit again.

"Stay on the bed. I’ll take you a glass of water, alright?"

The hotel room couldn’t be any bigger; it would be a paradise if you were in perfect health, but right now, it was maddening. A walk back to the bed itself felt so far, you just wanted to crawl your way back.

The faint sound of the door knocking halted his movement. A few drops of the plain water dropped to the white, lavish-looking counter as he jumped from the sound with the glass in his hand. The hotel wasn’t an apartment that came with a long hallway. It was designated to give more privacy to the guests, so every unit would be roughly a few metres away from the next one. Though  it wasn’t unusual to hear footsteps or voices passing through as the guests went back to their rooms or went out to enjoy the night, but there surely shouldn’t be a knocking sound.

When he peeked through the peephole, he was a second late, as the person on the other side had turned his back to walk further away. He was wearing a nude-coloured uniform, the same one the bellboy was wearing. Charles walked back to the room, brushing off the knock as a mistake for the room number.

"Baby, here.” He handed you the glass of water.

Your head felt like it weighed the same as a bowling bowl. The nausea was gone now, but you still felt like you got beaten up head to toe. Everything hurt. You took the medicine that Charles had packed with the water he brought for you and scooted further on the bed to make yourself comfortable under the duvet. "I can’t.." You pulled your hand away and shook your head, rejecting his offer to lay down as you remained sitting up with your back against the headboard. "I can’t lay down, Charles. It will make me feel nauseous again, and it’s so uncomfortable. My back hurts."

"Okay, okay, baby. Then we’ll just sleep like this.” The end of the duvet slipped off his body as he sat up and copied your way of sitting while he drew you into his embrace. "Is this okay?"

"But you won’t be comfortable." You dipped your face closer against his neck as you closed your eyes, feeling the drowsiness slowly take over your body again.

"I’m more than comfortable. Go to sleep, honey."

Charles didn’t have to say it twice because the heat from his body with him fondling you acted like a lullaby. It felt like you were being hypnotised because you were gone with just a snap.

You just couldn’t live your life without him.

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"Alone?" Riccardo arched a brow as he saw his friend join the table for breakfast with no sight of his lovely fiancée, whom he was obsessed with.

"Y/N is not feeling well.” Charles replied as he leaned his head to the side while his hand applied some pressure to the spot. He woke up this morning feeling like he had nails hammered around his neck. "My body is sore, dude.” He bent his upper body down on the table and groaned from the pressure. Sleeping upright definitely used every muscle.

His friends started laughing, and he didn’t have to look at their faces to know what it was about. "No, it’s not what you think.” He laughed along, shutting down the thoughts.

"Yeah, right. Thank God our rooms are a few metres away."

"Ah, speaking about that. Did you,” The friends’ gaze went on him. "heard any knocks from the staff last night?"

"I was dead asleep, Charles.” Gabriel, Lizzy’s boyfriend, replied while Lizzy took a seat beside him.

"I heard." Lizzy interrupted. "I even looked at the peephole, but it was just the staff checking something, I guess. Why? It disturbed your little activity with Y/N?”

"Shut up."

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You chuckled as Charles made himself comfortable in your arms right when he came back from breakfast. He wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your middle as you played with his hair. Though you woke up this morning feeling all better, you had developed some kind of trauma from eating because you always ended up in the bathroom the next morning so based on your logical way of thinking, if you didn’t eat, there was no way you would get sick again. So your fiancé had to go and have his breakfast alone, not literally because he had his friends but alone in the sense he didn’t have you to keep him accompany. Now that he was back, he had to cling on you to make up for the 2 hours of you leaving him alone.

"They are going to the pool, baby. Do you want to join?"

"Charles, stop. That tickles!" He laughed when you wiggled around as he poked at your waist. "Stop!" You sat up, hands cupping his cheeks while giggling as he stopped poking you.

"Do you want to eat something, baby?"

"I want pancakes.” Your so-called-logical way of thinking were left in the lurch when your stomach growled as if it was put on to speaker so you ended up caving in and requested for your favourite food.

He called for room service as you left the bed to get ready for the day. Just like how hard it was to decide what you should bring, it was equally hard, or maybe even harder, to choose what to wear right now.

"The green is cute, isn’t it? But the red is equally adorable as well!"

"Babe, just wear anything!" Charles was lying down on the bed, scrolling through his Instagram feed with your bikinis draped all around him like some kind of floor art. “Your pancake is here, honey and you still haven’t make a decision.” He stood up and went to get the door as the bell rang while you rushed to pick one out of all outfits because there was no way you had been contemplating this long.

"Room service!"

"Just put it on the table, please.” Charles snaked a few bills from the back of his jeans and handed them to the staff as a tip after he arranged the food. "Thank you so much."

"Honey, look! Oh, sorry."

He pressed his lips to hold his laugh when you scurried to cover up your body with the long white polo shirt that acted as the cardigan so you wouldn’t feel too naked, especially now in front of the hotel staff with the door opened.

"Is there anything else you need help with?"

"No, that’ll be it. Thank you." His body jerked back as you ran to bury your flushed face on his chest while the door closed behind him.

"That was so embarrassing! You should have told me he was still here!"

"You didn’t hear me talking to him?” He cackled even more.

"No?" You then dragged him to the table, where your pancake was beautifully placed with the syrups and honey on the side. "Are you not going to eat it with me?"

"No, honey. I’m full. I’ll go get change while you eat, alright?" He left you alone, enjoying the pancakes all to yourself, while he went to change, which only took less than 5 minutes without having to think about what it would look like in pictures. How easy it was to be a man!

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lizzyusername has added to their story

"Can she swim? Charles clicked his tongue and clapped on his hands as he approached Didi.

"She clearly can’t swim, Charles. She’s 12 months old! But she likes water.” Martha said in response as she handed her little girl to the driver as he carried Didi to the centre of the pool, where you were.

"Oh, she’s so cute!" You squealed when Didi giggled in his arms; the little hands slapped on the surface of the water, which made your fiancé’s face fully decorated from the droplets of water.

"We should definitely get a baby.”

You stopped playing peek-a-boo with the little one as your gaze went to your fiancé. There wasn’t any hint of tease or trick on his face. "Are you having baby fever from carrying her?"

"Yeah." He swayed little Didi in his arms as the little one shook her loaf-like arms in the water. "I can’t wait to build a family with you, love.”

This man in front of you never fail making you fall in love all over again.

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He found you. It was always easy to know where you were because he gave it all away. Just like how Charles’ 11 million followers knew where he was and how open and direct he was about his summer vacation, it only took him a split second to book the same hotel as you were.

It was a bit of a quandary for him to find where your room was. As witless as your companions were, they wouldn’t divulge the room numbers, so he had to take a screenshot of the pictures on their Instagram stories where it could reveal the view from the window and make a rough guess.

"Honey, look!"

Your voice. It was the voice he had been yearning to hear. He liked the way the white cardigan curved around your body. He saw the way Charles took you in his arms and how you hid your cheeks so he would stop kissing you.

Bastard.

It was unfair that he always had to be the one watching. Just like how Charles stole his career away, the chances away, the winning away, and the fame away. He had to have a perfect girl too.

But he had enough watching from the side now. It was too late to take the winning and the chances on the career back now but he could definitely take the girl he wanted.

He could definitely take you from him.

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"If Charles is looking for me, tell him I’m going to the bathroom!"

"What?!" Lizzy yelled straight to your ear; it would have drilled a hole in your eardrum if she went a pitch higher.

"I’m going to the bathroom!” You were so close to scream your lungs out.

"Oh! Okay go!"

Every night, the hotel would hold an event where they would blast a song until nearly sunrise, and people would just get drunk until dawn. Lizzy, her boyfriend, Gabriel, Charles, and you decided to hit it off for a few hours while Riccardo and Martha had to skip for their 12-month-old baby.

Something rough snatched on your wrist while you were on your way back and dragged you to the corner of the area. His gaze pierced straight into your eyes. The same gaze you had been seeing for weeks. The gaze that would always sent cold creeps. The gaze that was full of hatred and anger there was no comfort in it at all.

"Why did you ignore me?”

"What? Let me go!” You tugged on your wrist harshly, nearly punching him in the chin from the force. "I said, let me go! What the fuck do you want from me?”

"I hate it when you ignore me. Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong? I—"

"Stop!" You obstructed him from continuing his words, which made him knit his brows together. "I’m not ignoring you! I don’t even know who you are!"

"Liar! You know me. We talked a lot of times. You said we have a lot in common!” He pulled on your wrist towards his chest, which ended you a gap away from him. "I have never met anyone who had so much in common with me. You just need to give me a chance, ba—"

"Baby?" Charles had a scowl on his face as he approached both of you. You were left to keep Lizzy accompany and he didn’t want to bug your girls time with her so he went to stay with Gabriel where he got carried away with the conversations with a few other acquaintance. When he came back to Lizzy, you were gone. He wasn’t expecting to see you in very close proximity to a guy out of anyone’s sight. "What are you doing? Who are you?"

"I’ll take my leave.” Charles saw his face very clearly as he was dressed very casual, like how any other people in this venue would dress. He finally let go of your hand and walked past the driver as you stood there, tongue-tied.

"Wait." Charles called out, and his gaze went on the guy. "We met before, didn’t we?"

"No? You got the wrong guy.”

You saw him quickly leave the area; his pace was fast but not enough to raise suspicion from the rest of the crowd. His hand was fishing out something from his back pocket, and the phone in your hand rang a second later.

"Who’s that guy?"

"He was—he was looking for his friend.” You could finally breathe when you felt Charles’s touch on your waist, full of reassurance and comfort—everything you needed at the moment.

He left a few lingering kisses on the side of your head, murmuring against your hair. "I thought he did something to you, honey. Next time, please let me know if you ever need to go somewhere.”

"I told Lizzy." You tilted your head to find him chuckling.

"She’s wasted. You chose the wrong person to deliver the message. Let’s call it a night."

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marthausername added to their story

tagged ynusername, charlesleclerc

"She opened the door and freaked out because—"

"You guys are so boring.” Martha cut off your storytelling, which made Charles grumble against your middle. He had been laying his head on your stomach while both of you were sprawled on the beach mat with your novel in hand.

Charles was just using an excuse so he could hear you talk while he fell asleep. He loved lying on you and watching how your eyes brightened whenever you told him everything that happened in the chapter. Though it was nearly impossible to understand because he didn’t even know any of the character’s name, the plot, the storyline wasn’t that important. He just wanted to listen.

"Can you leave us alone?” Charles replied, turning his face back to you, but his sight was interfered by little Didi when Martha put her daughter to join the both of you as she walked back to her boyfriend, Riccardo. "I—" He ended up laughing along with you. "I was going to get mad, but she smiled at me."

"We can always be her emergency babysitter." You commented before going back to your book while playing with his hair as he played peek-a-boo with Didi.

"You threw up again this morning, didn’t you?"

"Yeah.."

"We should really get you checked, honey. It’s been nearly a week? Surely the medicine isn’t working.” You glanced down and caught his worried face. It made you feel so bad because regardless how hard you tried to hide it from him, you knew Charles would always be anxious whenever you were sick, especially now when the sickness lasted longer.

"I’m sorry."

"There’s nothing you should be sorry about, love. I’m just worried about you. I’ll set an appointment with my GP, alright?” He assured and took your hand to leave a peck on the back of it before he focused back on Didi.

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ynusername has added to their story

"Are you sure it is okay for you?”

"Of course! I wouldn’t mind it. Just go and enjoy the night, Martha!” You firmly replied as Didi leaned her body towards you when you picked her up. "I’ll spend the rest of the night with this little girl."

"Thank you so much, Y/N. I wouldn’t know what I would do without you. Is Charles coming with us or—“ Martha looked at the driver as she spoke.

"I—"

"He’ll be coming with you! You chirped in before he could say anything. "He just needed to change first, right, honey?"

"Oh, okay! Then we’ll wait for you in the lobby.” The rest of the group left your room as they headed towards the lobby, all of them looking like they were so ready to get wasted.

"Honey, I can’t just leave you alone.” Charles exhaled, clearly looked like he wasn’t pleased with your decision.

"I can take care of myself! You spent this whole vacation worrying about me, honey. Go and enjoy the night. Didi and I will do just fine.” Didi let out a squeal as you cooed her. Despite all the persuasion and coaxing, he wasn’t even budge that you ended up having to turn it into some form of coercion just so he would leave the room by guilt-tripping him about how bad he was to make the friends waiting for this long.

"I’ll be back in an hour or so. Call me if you need anything.” He left after brushing his lips on your forehead, face wasn’t filled with any kind of anticipation. He was just looking like a kid who was forced to go to school.

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You tugged the little girl to sleep right when it hit her sleep time, and it was easier than you expected. Though you didn’t have any experience with kids other than being a part time babysitter back when you were still a teenager, Didi was a very manageable baby. You only had to feed her with the bottle that Martha had prepared beforehand as she played with her feet until her eyes got all droopy and she gave in.

Nothing beat the perfect idea to wind down your day by having little snacks you bought the day before while getting yourself entertained with the movie playing on the screen. 

Then you heard a knock. Talk about man of his words. He really came back an hour after just like how he told you. Giggling, you put the snacks away as you hopped your way to the door, all set to hug him as he walked in.

"Welcome back! Did you have fu—what are you doing here?"

"I missed you. I missed you so much.” He walked in as if it were the most casual thing and started pulling you for a hug, to which you shoved him away.

"What do you want from me?” You tried to scurry your way back to the room, but he tugged on your shirt and held something against your face. It was warm and a little wet. It was cupped harshly on your face that it left you with no chances other than breathing in the chemical, ether-like odor. You tried to pull his hand away, yanking on his shirt—anything that you could grab to free yourself but within every strive, your body started feeling heavier and heavier. Lifting up the arm felt like it needed every vitality, you just wanted to lay down. That was all you remember as your legs gave in as you succumbed to the darkness.

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Charles quickly tapped the access card and walked in when he heard Didi’s crying from outside the room. It was so loud and strained. She sounded as if she had been crying for so long and no one had noticed. He picked her up and swayed her as the wailing started to cease. Her cheeks were red, and her voice sounded sore from the heavy, excessive crying. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep from using her energy to cry, for God knew how long it had been.

"Y/N..?"

Once he put Didi back to sleep, he tread to the bedroom where you were tugged in and sound asleep on the bed, fully naked. Your hair was a mess and sticking all over your face. It was weird for you to be sleeping, ignoring the cries from Didi because you were a light sleeper and everything about it sounded so irresponsible. If Martha had to choose between you and Lizzy to babysit her daughter, it would always be you because she, Charles, and everyone else knew how much you loved kids. It was never like you to ignore a child just so you could sleep. The notification sound coming nonstop from his phone halted his movement as he brought out it out from his pocket to check on it.

It was pictures, and pictures. More than 10 pictures of you naked with a guy who he couldn’t seem to make out the face. The pictures were taken from different angles, and it was clearly something that would give anyone a nightmare to see pictures of their beloved partner under someone else, with no layer of clothes. The phone nearly slipped off his hand as he walked out of the room, feeling himself suffocated. Tonnes of thoughts started popping up in his head, wondering where it all went wrong, what he did to deserve all this, and why this happened when the relationship had been nothing but perfect throughout the years. There was never a big argument; you and he had been giving constant reassurance despite the career difference, with no insecurities or unspoken problems that couldn’t be solved. Why would you do this to him?

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You woke up the next morning and became conscious of your current state when the duvet was lifted off from holding on to your body. The room was silent, and Charles was nowhere to be seen. "Didi." You muttered, as if to remind yourself and got dressed with any clothes you could lay your hands on before hurried out to find the little one, but the baby cot was empty.

"Charles, where’s Didi?” You saw him on the couch playing with his phone. He was still wearing the same outfit from last night. Judging from how languid his actions were, it seemed like he didn’t catch a wink.

"I sent her back to Martha. Get your stuff packed. The flight is in two hours." He stood up and walked past you to get to the room. He was different. There wasn’t a smile or a touch. He wasn’t even looking at you.

"Charles." You grabbed his arm.

"Don’t fucking touch me, Y/N." He yanked his arm away and headed back to the room.

That was all you heard him say before he went mute for the rest of the days. He didn’t touch any of your stuffs. You were left to pick up everything on your own. You weren’t spoil but for more than 5 years, he was the one to help you pack, unpack, keep everything in check. Now that you were suddenly forced to be on your own despite being in the same room with the love of your life, you weren’t prepared for it. You followed him like a lost puppy with your luggage to say goodbye to the rest of the group. The vacation was supposed to end in two days, so you were taken back when he requested that you pack your stuff but obeyed without further questions.

When you met the rest of the friends, they were looking sad because you had to cut the vacation short due to Charles’ sudden call for work, as mentioned by Gabriel. You had to play it off so they wouldn’t feel like some things were off because you had ruined Charles’ vacation; you surely didn’t want to ruin everyone else’s.

"Your hickeys are fresh! No wonder Charles was eager to go back early last night." Lizzy cracked a joke as she hugged you. Your hands went on your neck as you rested it there, feeling your heart beat faster. You had no recollections of last night other than opening the door to the creepy guy, and you woke up this morning completely nude. You wanted to tell Charles about what happened up until what you could remember, but he had been ignoring you. His gaze was cold, and it terrified you to say anything.

Your flight back felt like a going home from a solo trip. He didn’t say anything and you weren’t talking as well so it felt like living in a world where everything was quite and there was no sort communication. When you reached your apartment, Charles helped you bring the luggage all the way up.

But it was just yours.

His luggage was left in the car.

“Where—where are you going?” You called out, grabbing his hand as he tried to walk out after dropping the last baggage inside the house.

"I can’t stay here with you.”He tried to pull his hand away, but your grasp went tighter, as you felt the tightness in your throat.

"No, please don’t do this to me. Please don’t leave me alone. About last night, I—"

"I give no fuck about what happened last night, Y/N." Your body was jerked forward as he pulled his hand away. "I was never enough for you, was it?"

"No, you don’t get it! He tried to—"

"Explain the pictures! He bellowed, full of rage.

“What pictures are you talking about?” You brought your gaze up and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. "Charles, what pictures?"

He let out a chuckle and rolled his eyes. "No one’s going to believe this fucking act you got right here, Y/N. I am done with you.” He started walking to the elevator, leaving you to chase after him.

"Charles! No, please! Please don’t do this to me. What about us.."

"There is no us anymore, Y/N. You should have thought twice before bringing that guy to our bed. It was no wonder you were so eager to ask me to join them instead of accompanying you." He stepped inside the elevator and held down the close-door button, loathing to spend another second seeing your crying act.

"Please hear what I have to say! Charles!" You went down on your knees as the elevator closed. You stayed there, praying the door would open and he would come back, but he didn’t. "I can't—I can’t live without you.” You murmured, sitting on the cold ground for another minutes before picking yourself up as you trudged back to the apartment. The little stones and pebbles felt harsh against the soles of your feet when you didn’t even bother to put on any shoes when you chased after him earlier.

And that was the last time you ever saw him.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Life was hard without Charles. He had always been the one who helped you with everything. It was as if you had to learn how to live all over again. A week after he left, you got a call this morning reminding you of your appointment. It was an appointment that Charles had made when you were in Greece last week, and he should have accompanied you.

You hadn’t stepped out of the apartment because something about going home to an empty house put you in a misery. You couldn’t even drive so you had to go on Internet to find out how to book a cab. You saw him in his black hoodie, black cap like the one he was wearing when he chased after you in the elevator weeks before. He was leaning against one of the lamp pole, eyes on the entrance of the apartment as if he was waiting for you. Before he could approach and get closer, you dashed to the cab that had been waiting for you from the booking you had set earlier.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"How long have you been feeling sick?" Your GP, the lovely doctor that had been attending you and Charles for years asked and her gaze went on you. 

"A few weeks ago." You answered, fingers playing with your engagement ring. It was hard to make an eye contact with anyone because you felt horrible. You hadn’t stop crying to you eyes had been puffy for weeks. You had no energy left to put on any makeups so you just went with a tinted lip balm and a sunscreen. You hadn’t been talking to anyone that it felt like you could break down in tears if someone looked at you any longer than a minute.

"What about your period cycle?"

"I—" You pressed your lips into a thin line. You hadn’t been getting your period this month since last month but never bothered to think of anything because you had always had an irregular cycle. A skip for a month and two wasn’t really something that you were unfamiliar with.

Seeing how you were unable to answer the question, she gave a smile and asked the nurse to set up the machine. "How about we get you an ultrasound?”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You had to lock yourself in one of the cubicles because you couldn’t hold your tears any longer. Back when you and Charles had a conversation about a family, you were actually 7 weeks pregnant.

It was always your dream to have a family with Charles, your dream man, but you never thought you would be walking out from the doctor’s room with a sonogram in hand without him.

You fished out your phone with your shaky hands and tried to call your fiancé, or ex-fiancé, hoping he would pick up this one call. If none of your phone calls were picked up since last week, please let him pick up just this one.

But you were only greeted with long beeps, like every other calls you had tried since he left.

"Charles, it’s me. Please, please call me back. I’m begging you. I have something to tell.” You pleaded, hoping he would listen to this voicemail as you hung up.

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[oizysian]

I'd like to request if you're still taking it

Top! dark! Lizzie x fem reader. Lizzie uses reader to take out her stress

Stressed Out | Elizabeth Olsen

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2900+ Genre: Smut Warnings: slight dubcon, slapping, name calling AN: it’s hard for me to imagine Lizzie as very dark so she’s not as dark as she could be, I’m sorry! Thank you for the request!

•

“Honey, I’ve had a really, really bad day.” Lizzie’s voice was soft and deep as she entered the room, exhaustion and frustration colored her features.

I looked from the television to her, watching as she began to strip out of her clothes, tossing the garments haphazardly around as she came closer to the bed, leaving herself in only her bra and panties.

“I need you to make it better.” She said as she leaned toward me, her hands pressing down into the bed on either side of me.

“How?” I responded quietly, looking from her deep, green eyes to her full breasts that peeked out from beneath her bra.

“Let me use you. Let me just … feel you.”

I blinked at her once, twice, before nodding; a simple motion that brought a smile to her face. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to my own, slipping her tongue into my mouth and claiming me as her own.

Breathlessly, I let her do as she pleased with me, knowing very well that anything she did would be pleasurable.

“Take off your clothes.” She breathed softly and I obeyed, stripping out of my shirt and bra, but struggled with my shorts and panties. “Lemme help.”

She impatiently tugged on my clothes, practically ripping the fabric from my body and throwing it somewhere behind her on the ground.

“Lizzie …” I whimpered softly, turned on and nervous by the way she was acting. I had never seen her act like this before.

“Shh,” she whispered, licking her lips as she stared down at my naked body. “You said I could have you tonight,” She bit her lip and smiled, bringing her head down to just barely brush her lips against mine. “And I’m going to have you.”

I moved to close the space between us but she pulled away, smiling mischievously as she climbed off the bed and headed to the dresser, digging around in the drawer we kept all of our toys.

“You’re gonna look so pretty.” She mused softly as she filled her arms with items.

When she turned back to the bed, my eyes grew wide at all the things she had retrieved. In her arms she had ropes, toys, lube, a gag, a blindfold, and who knows what else - all for me.

“My pretty girl.” Her dark eyes met mine and I shivered. “Lay down.”

I obeyed silently, laying my head down on the pillows and waiting for her next command. She dropped everything on the bed next to me and started sifting through the pile.

The first thing she grabbed was the ropes, wasting no time in tying my hands to the headboard tightly.

“Lizzie,” I whined, struggling against the binds. “They’re too tight.”

“I don’t want you moving.”

“I won’t.” I squirmed and she shook her head.

“You already are.” She slapped my right breast and I cried out, tugging on my restraints. “Look at you,” she propped herself up on her knees, staring down at me. “Already disobeying me.”

“I’m not.” I said defiantly and she raised her eyebrow at me.

“Oh, no? Say my name.”

“Lizzie.”

She slapped my left breast even harder than she slapped the right.

“Lizzie!” I cried, not understanding what I did wrong.

“What is my name?” She said as she slapped my right breast again, the stinging pain bringing tears to my eyes.

“Liz …” and then it came to me. “Mommy! Mommy!”

She hummed softly, rubbing and gently twisting my right nipple, bringing it to a hardened bud.

“That’s my good girl.”

She reached behind her and I could hear the soft clinking of metal, but couldn’t raise my head to see. She turned back towards me, nipple clamps in her hand.

“Because you decided to be good, I’ll reward you.”

She clipped them onto my abused nipples and I hissed, squirming as she pulled on the chain they were connected to.

“This isn’t a reward.” I moaned softly, biting back all the choice words I would rather say to her at the moment.

“Now you’re ungrateful?” She clicked her tongue, tugging the clamps more forcefully.

I tried to raise my body towards her, but I was held down by the ropes. Hot tears sprung to my eyes from arousal, embarrassment, frustration and pain, and I wasn’t sure which was the dominant feeling.

“I’m sorry.” I bit out through clenched teeth, trying not to focus too much on the pain.

“Say it like you mean it.”

She pulled hard and I cried, my body squirming in a feeble attempt to escape.

“I’m sorry, mommy!”

Satisfied with my response, she dropped the chain, the cool metal landing on my tummy with a soft clang and turned back towards the pile.

“I don’t like your mouth tonight.” She said as she sifted through all of the stuff she collected.

I breathed heavily, chest heaving as I tried to calm down. She had barely even touched me and I was panting, soaking wet, aroused beyond belief. Who knew Lizzie treating me like this would turn me on so much?

She brought herself back towards me, gag in hand.

“No, Lizzie, I’m sorry, please!”

“Lizzie?” She paused, giving me a chance to correct myself.

“Mommy! Please, I’ll be good!”

“I know you will, sweetheart.” She said as she put the gag in my mouth, securing it around my head.

I attempted to plead with her, tears falling from my eyes as she let my head fall back onto the pillows, the ball gag tight in my mouth.

“Let’s see …” she pretended to think for a minute before spreading my legs, peeking between them. “Soaked. You’re absolutely glistening, sweet thing.”

My cheeks reddened at her words, drool already slipping past the gag and falling down my chin. She smiled down at me, pleased with the state I was in. She was happy with what she was able to do to me.

I pressed my knees together and she gave me a glaring, warning look. I was embarrassed.

“Open those legs for me, pretty baby. Don’t make me ask you again.”

The seriousness of her voice made me relent, opening my legs for her to settle between them, her head going straight for my center. I let out a low moan as she licked up my slick. She was actively avoiding my clit, which drove me mad, my mind swimming with arousal and no end in sight.

“Stay still or you won’t cum tonight.” She said against my slit and I did my best to control my breathing so my legs would stop shaking.

She grabbed onto my thighs and hummed against my pussy, the vibrations going straight to my core, a new wave of my juices leaking out onto her waiting tongue.

Satisfied with herself and my reaction to her, she pulled away, making a show of licking her lips as she sat back up. A muffled plea of letting me cum tried to slip past the gag, but I wasn’t understood and she clearly wasn’t ready for me to come undone yet.

“You look so pretty.” She said as she admired the mess she had made of me.

I swallowed roughly, the urge to close my legs in bratty defiance strong, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to push her in the current mood she was in. She ran her fingers along my inner thigh, causing goosebumps to follow in their wake.

“I wanna suck on your nipples so badly,” she bit her lip, digging her nails slightly into my thigh. “But, you don’t deserve it.”

I let out a low groan and she smiled sweetly, her fingers making their way back up to my pussy and carefully dipping into my heat. I raised my hips towards her and she pulled out, bringing her fingers up to her mouth and sucking on them loudly.

“Not only are you pretty, but you taste good too.” She said as she finished cleaning her fingers.

I tugged on the ropes, my desire to touch her or touch myself becoming too much for me to handle. My nipples ached painfully and every time I moved it sent a jolt of arousal to my core.

“Give me one reason to not put this on you.” She held up the blindfold and I shook my head, my words coming out muffled. “Oh, that’s right.” She smiled. “You can’t.”

She leaned over me and covered my eyes with the blindfold. I struggled against her, trying to shake the blindfold off.

I heard the slap before I felt it, my body jerking upwards once I felt the stinging pain on my pussy. A muffled “oh fuck” spilled from my lips, but was ignored.

I could hear the pop of a pen cap and smelt the scent of a sharpie. I didn’t even bother hiding my confusion, my brows furrowing and my head tilting towards the sound of Lizzie moving around.

“Don’t move.” She warned me and I braced myself for whatever she had planned.

My stomach tensed as I felt something press against it, and then I realized she was drawing on me. My breathing quickened, but I tried my hardest to stay still.

“There. Mommy’s cum slut. That’s what you are.”

Lizzie had written on me. I let out a shaky breath as she continued to doodle on my body. I wanted so badly to see what she was doing, what she was writing, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. It was on me and it wouldn’t be coming off for a while.

“Do you deserve kisses?” Her voice was quiet and soft next to my ear.

I nodded and I felt her lips against my neck, kissing languidly, leaving wet trails as she made her way down my body. She stopped at my breast, sinking her teeth into the swell of it. I cursed at her, but thankfully she couldn’t understand me. She sucked on the hurt, no doubt leaving a giant hickey in her wake.

She released my abused skin and blew cold air onto my sensitive nipples, causing me to shiver and squirm under her. She giggled deviously, her tongue sneaking out to swirl around my areola, purposefully avoiding the clamps and my nipples.

“I’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy of yours.” She whispered against my skin and I let out a cry of relief and desperation. She was finally gonna fuck me.

I felt the bed shift as she got up and I could hear her moving around, but it drove me insane that all I could see was darkness. I had to rely on my hearing to tell me where she was and what she was doing.

It was a few moments of silence before I felt the bed dip as she got back on it, crawling up and positioning herself between my legs.

I felt her lifting my legs, pressing them to my chest, brushing against my hard and abused nipples. I let out a cry from behind the gag and she shushed me softly. I could feel her hardness between my legs and I thrust up against her slightly, trying to get the slightest bit of friction against my clit.

“Just wait, baby,” she cooed, rubbing herself against me. “I’ll take care of you.”

She slapped the dildo against my mound teasingly, knowing I would do just about anything at this moment to feel her inside me. At my pathetic moans, she inched her way inside me, pushing past any resistance she met as she bottomed out.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” I knew she was looking at my pussy as she fucked me, watching as her cock stretched me out.

I let out a whimper, trying desperately to beg her for release as she slowly slid in and out of me. I could hear myself telling her to go faster, to fuck me harder, but it came out as more moans, and she laughed at the noises I made.

“Take my cock, yeah, that’s right, sweetheart. Fucking take it.”

Drool cascaded down my chin as she began to pound into me, the chain on my chest clinking as my tits bounced from the force of her thrusts. I could feel myself getting closer, the coil in my belly tightening as she fucked the brattiness out of me.

She pressed herself against me, reaching underneath my head to undo the gag in my mouth.

“I want to hear you.”

I took a deep breath and let out a whimpering gasp.

“Mommy.” I panted softly.

“That’s right, mommy’s right here.”

She pressed her lips to mine and I moaned into her waiting mouth, happy to finally be able to taste her. I kissed her back desperately despite the aching in my jaw and the straining in my neck. I felt her hand snake up my body to rest at my throat, her fingers tightening, choking me.

“M-mommy.” I breathed, desperately wishing to see her. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Are you, baby? Are you close?” Her fingers tightened around my neck and I squeezed my eyes tight, the blindfold soaking up my tears.

“Yes!” I choked out, her roughness turning me on further. “Yes, mommy!”

My pussy throbbed and pulsated around her thick cock, so close to release, when she pulled out of me, but continued to kiss me.

“No, mommy, please!” I begged between kisses.

I could feel her smiling against my lips and it drove me insane, but I knew better than to speak against her. She kept kissing me, tiny, teasing kisses all along my lips and cheeks.

“Please,” I cried. “Mommy, please.”

Before I could register what she was doing, I could see her again. Her eyes were a deep green, dark with lust and desire. Her mouth was agape, her breaths coming out in small puffs.

“Keep begging.” She smiled down at me and bit her lip.

“Mommy, please fuck me.”

“Since you’ve been such a good girl …”

With a smirk, she was inside me again and I was seeing stars. It was so big, I couldn’t believe I was able to take her so easily. She was pounding into me hard, and it was almost beginning to hurt with how deep she was inside me.

“Mommy … it hurts.”

“You wanted this.” She said as she continued to fuck me. “You can take it.”

I moaned pathetically, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as she braced herself, her thrusts powerful and deep. As much as it hurt, it also felt fucking fantastic, and I was going to cum on her whether she wanted me to or not.

I raised my hips to meet her thrusts, the base of the dildo rubbing against my clit, giving me the extra friction I needed to cum.

“Oh, fuck yes, mommy!” I cried as I came against her, my pussy squeezing and milking the cock inside of me.

She rested her forehead against mine, panting, her hips moving ever so slightly against me.

“Did I say you could cum?” She whispered against my lips, her eyes looking into my own.

“No.” I whispered back, my eyes shifting from hers.

She pulled out of me and sighed, reaching up and untying me from the headboard. I grabbed at my wrists, rubbing them now that they were free. She got up from the bed and gestured for me to follow her, which I did without comment. She sat on the edge of the bed and laid me across her lap, rubbing her hand across the swell of my ass cheeks.

“Count for me.”

“W-what?” I asked and she slapped my ass.

I cried out, reaching back to shield my bottom, but she held my arm in place and swung again.

“Count.”

“One!” I cried.

Slap.

“Two!”

Slap.

“Three! Mommy, please!”

It went on for what felt like hours, and she would restart if I lost count - which I did. When we finally made it to ten, I was soaked and throbbing again, crying like a baby.

She pulled me to my feet and shushed me, wrapping me up in her arms and cradling me, doing her best to avoid touching my sore ass.

“You did so good, sweet girl.”

I sniffled, burying my face in the crook of her neck.

“Do you feel better now, mommy?”

She nodded against me and kissed my forehead. She brought her hand up to my breasts and unclasped the clamps on my nipples, finally freeing them. I hissed as she gently rolled my nipple between her fingers, alternating between them.

I looked down at my belly to see all the things she wrote on me; Mommy’s little cumslut, mutt, whore …

She ran her fingers over the words and kissed me, her hand drifting from my stomach to between my legs where I was dripping wet again.

“Can you give mommy another?” She asked as she played with my clit.

My eyes heavy with exhaustion, I nodded, not wanting to disappoint her.

“Such a good girl.” She whispered against my hair, her fingers swirling around my throbbing clit.

I gripped at her arms as she played with me, close to orgasm already. Honestly, anything Lizzie did to me instantly got me wet, and her spanking me was no exception.

I breathed heavily against her throat as she slipped her fingers inside me, curling them upward as she continued to rub my clit.

My legs shook as I came around her strong fingers, crying out pathetically as I did so. She held me close as I came down from my high, pressing her lips to my head as I relaxed in her arms.

“You did so good for me, my good girl.”