#and yet all of that said Lizzy is still like ‘and I have to hear you say this about my family why?’

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hi !! i was thinking about logical by olivia rodrigo when she sings "said i was too young i was too soft, can't take a joke can't get you off" and it got me thinking of rupert campbell black x younger!reader getting into a huge argument about something and he says that to her in the heat of the moment and then maybe they end up having make up sex idk

thank you <33

February Sky.

The highs are so high, but the lows are so low.

rupert campbell black x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. age gap. angst. so much use of the word darling. this might be a tiny bit toxic, but...

word count - 2.3k

authors note - title taken from logical by olivia rodrigo (which fits him so well, by the way). thank you for this request, erica!! it works so beautifully. I tried not to make it too toxic, but I think rupert is a tiny bit toxic, regardless. oops. and yet we love him anyway.

masterlist. inbox.

“What’s the matter?”

You’re curled up in the armchair by the fire, cup of tea warming the palms of your hands as the flames warm your toes. You’re still wearing your ballgown, hair still pretty in its updo and makeup still perfectly done.

“Darling,” you hear come from the kitchen, where he’s no doubt pouring himself a whiskey.

You stay quiet, taking a sip from your mug and sitting in your frustration.

Rupert appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame and taking in the sight of you. The first thing he observes is how cosy you look. The second thing he observes is how annoyed you look.

“Darling,” he repeats, walking over to kneel in front of you. “What’s the matter? Did you not have a good time?”

You’ve gotten very good at picking your battles with Rupert. Sometimes, you let go of whatever’s bothering you to save yourself the aggravation of an argument. Other days, much like today, you just can’t seem to keep a lid on your anger.

“I was having a good time until you made me feel stupid in front of everyone.”

“W-what? What are you talking about?”

You look down at him, his wide eyes staring up at you with genuine confusion painted across them.

“When I told that story about the horses, at the dinner table. I saw that look you gave Bas. It was like you were laughing at me, not with me.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel stupid. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

“Do I? You did the same thing a few weeks ago at Lizzie’s. You so easily undermine me when I’m speaking with a look or a laugh. That’s all it takes, and you don’t even realise.”

“Darling, I’m just joking with my friends. I’m not sure why you’re taking this so personally. It’s a non issue that you’re making into an issue.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Well I could argue that it’s not fair that you’re telling me that I make you feel stupid. That’s an accusation that’s not fair.”

He gets up, moving to stand by the fire with his glass in his hand.

“I feel like you’re just dismissing me,” you say quietly, squeezing the mug tighter in your hands.

“Because you’re acting like a child.”

“You’re treating me like a child,” you retort quickly, sitting up straighter in your chair.

“Look, darling. Maybe this is just our gap in life experience rearing its head. You’ve got a lot to learn, and sometimes it shows.”

“You know, our age gap only becomes a problem when you make it a problem. You want a sweet, young girlfriend until she acts her age, and then it’s an issue.”

“Because you can be so mature, and then all of a sudden you’re throwing a tantrum like a child,” he fumes, placing his glass down on the mantelpiece and folding his arms over his chest. “You’re young and you’re soft, I’m not oblivious to that. But sometimes you can’t take a joke - or sometimes you miss the joke completely. It’s not my fault if you twist that into me making you feel stupid.”

You put your mug down onto the side table, willing yourself not to get upset. You stand up so you’re no longer below him, still keeping a distance between the two of you. Breathing in deeply, you exhale shakily in an attempt to keep yourself and your composure together.

“You’re acting like my age is something that came up later, Rupert - and that’s not true at all. You knew how old I was when we met. You knew I was significantly younger than you.”

“Yes, I did. Maybe I just wasn’t aware of how often it would come up as a point when we argued.”

He leans against the fireplace wall, sharp features illuminated by the light of the flames. All that can be heard are the sounds of wood crackling and two sets of lungs heaving for breath.

“You’re making me feel like I’m insane,” you burst suddenly, sick of biting your tongue. “You’re acting as if everything is all my fault. When will you take some responsibility, Rupert? When will you hold your hands up and say ‘do you know what - I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it’, hmm? Why do I always have to apologise?”

“Darling-”

“No, I’m sick of it. One minute, you’re telling me our age gap doesn’t matter because we’re in love and I’m mature and intelligent and everything you need - and the next minute you’re treating me like some sort of virginal lamb that doesn’t know the difference between left and right. Make up your mind, because you’re making me dizzy.”

“If you’re so sick of it, why are we doing this? If you are so sick of it, you know where the door is, darling. I’m not forcing you to stay here.”

That’s all it takes for the tears to start falling, hot and heavy down your cheeks. Your sadness seems to be uncontrollable, stemming from your chest and humming through your veins. You’re surprised you’re not turning blue, a perfect personification of sorrow.

You stand your ground and cry in place, refusing to move to him for comfort. Eventually, he breaks first, unable to watch you sob any longer.

“My darling,” he soothes, striding across the space to wrap his arms around you. “My sweet girl.”

His nicknames only make you cry harder, burying your face in his crisp white dress shirt and undoubtedly getting makeup all over it. He doesn’t care, one hand gripping the back of your neck while the other wraps around your waist to pull you closer.

“That was really mean,” you blubber into his chest. “Do you actually want me to leave?”

“No,” he reassures, rocking you in his arms gently. “No, darling. No. God, that’s the last thing I want. Honest.”

“Why did you say it then?”

Your voice is muffled, face still pressed against him. He smells so familiar and masculine and Rupert that it only makes you cry more.

“I… I don’t know,” he confesses, squeezing you tighter. “I shouldn’t have. You know me, I- I say things I don’t mean when I’m angry.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Your fingers are gripping the back of his shirt, holding on for dear life.

“I know, darling. I know.”

You sniffle as you pull back slightly to look up at him, surprised to see his eyes teary and glistening.

“Do you love me, Rupert? Because, because- if you… if you really wanted me to leave… you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Sweet girl,” he breathes, cradling your face in his hands. “Of course I love you. The fact you even have to ask breaks my heart. I don’t want to you leave - I love having you here. And god forbid, if something bad did happen between us… we both know we wouldn’t stick around and pretend that this is something it’s not.”

Part of you knows that he’s good at this - saying exactly what you want and need to hear. The rest of you is stupidly relieved, letting his words wash over you like a balm on a scrape.

“I didn’t like it when you laughed at me tonight. One, because it made me feel stupid, and two… because I don’t want people to doubt us. You know what they’re all like. They see the tiniest crack and dig their fingers into it until it’s a gaping wound that they can all gossip about.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he murmurs as he sweeps his thumbs back and forth across your cheekbones. “I shouldn’t give them any ammunition. I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t realise it would upset you so much. There was no malicious intent on my part, I swear - it was just a joke between friends. You know Bas adores you.”

“I know,” you half chuckle. “He tells me every single time he sees me.”

“Exactly,” Rupert grins, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “But no one adores you the way I do. I can promise you that.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your head against his chest. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, meaning you can feel his warm skin against your cheek, comforting and familiar.

“Rupert?”

He hums, encouraging you to continue.

“Will you stop bringing up my age when we argue? I don’t ever mention that you’re older than me, but you’re so quick to call me young or inexperienced or a baby.”

“Yes, darling. I’m sorry that it seems like a focal point for us - it’s not, I swear.”

“You kissed me.”

“Hmm?”

“You kissed me, that day in the garden. Not the other way around. You made the move first. I’m not some innocent girl chasing after you because I’m naive and too young to know any better.”

“I know that. I kissed you because I thought you were the most magnificent girl I’d ever met. I still do.”

He tightens his arms around you, gently rocking you like a child again.

“I don’t want to argue anymore,” you mumble, sighing deeply.

“Neither do I, darling. We’re finished with the arguing now. Promise.”

Rupert takes half a step back, to give him a better look at you. You still look beautiful, even if you do have mascara running down your cheeks and lipstick smudged across your face.

“I love you,” he murmurs as he leans in to kiss you.

“I love you too,” you manage to mutter against his lips, kissing him back as hard as you can.

He kisses you carefully, methodically, as if he’s worried he’ll spook you and you’ll take off running. He’s keeping you close, hands gripping your hips to plaster your body to his. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging the dark locks with a little too much force, which he doesn’t seem to mind.

Rupert walks you both towards the fire, lips never parting from yours. His hand finds the back of your dress, pulling down the zip in one smooth movement. It falls to your feet, kicked to the side in disregard. He sits down in the armchair and pulls you with him so you’re straddling his lap, legs on either side of his hips and arms thrown around his neck.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, fingers tracing patterns up and down your bare back.

You press kisses into his neck and down his chest, the hair there tickling your face as you do it. Your hips have slowly started to move against his, both of you out of breath as the stakes get higher and higher.

He undoes the zip on his trousers, smirking when you whimper at his knuckles brushing your wet core. He pulls them down just enough to free himself, not worried about getting completely undressed.

“I want these off,” he instructs, pulling at the waistband of your underwear. “Now, darling.”

You wiggle them down your legs, kicking them off one foot in the direction of your dress. You’re fully naked in his lap, while he’s still wearing his shirt unbuttoned with his trousers halfway down his thighs. You both look debauched, more scandalous than you could ever imagine. You wish for a moment that you had a mirror, desperate to watch the way you need each other.

You take matters into your own hands and line him up, sinking down slowly so you can savour the stretch. It burns just right, the slight ache a welcome intrusion.

“Shit, darling. That’s it. Good girl.”

Tangling your fingers into the back of his hair, you start to wind your hips up and down - gently at first, and then with more vigour. Rupert lets his head loll back into the chair, exposing that gorgeously tanned neck of his. You nip at it with your teeth, grinning when he groans all low and slow.

He cups your tits, squeezing and pinching as he begins to buck his hips to meet yours. You’re determined to do all the work yourself, but he can read your body language like a book, whether you like it or not. He knows you’re getting tired, but will point blank refuse to admit it.

One of his hands slinks between you to rub firm circles onto your clit, both of you moaning when you clench down around him. He can tell you’re almost there, just needing the tiniest push to throw you over the edge.

“There we go, good girl. My good girl. All mine.”

That’s all you need, back arching and legs shaking as you reach your climax. Yours triggers Rupert’s, the most delicious groan leaving his mouth as he comes. He looks like a Greek God, all chiseled and glistening in the firelight.

Burying your head into the crook of his neck, you breathe him and try to calm your pounding heart. You can feel his heart battering against his chest where it’s pressed against yours, bodies tangled together in the armchair.

The two of you catch your breath for a while, revelling in the warmth of the fire and the company of the other. Eventually, Rupert carries you upstairs, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear and stroking your hair as he does it.

I was wrong, earlier, you think as he tucks you into bed and immediately climbs in next to you, plastering himself to your back. No one could love me like Rupert does.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, even if I sound like a broken record…

reblogs are gold dust to writers!! reblog the fics you read and enjoy, and your favourite writers will keep writing them for you!! it really is that simple!! <3

[loggiepj]

lizzie

Summary: just an angsty one shot story 😂✌🏳️‍🌈

"TOM SAID she had been using Rooney to gain more credits to her work, always insisting to come along Rooney when she's in film productions, pretending she was only supporting her then girlfriend just so she could give her scripts to producers. And she did this while cheating on her behind her back."

You bit your lip to stop yourself from bursting into tears, hand on your chest, slipping to your collarbone then up to your neck as you willed yourself to breathe.

"That's awful," you heard Lizzie's beautiful voice slurring through the confines of the comfort room, through the door of the cubicle you were trapped in. "I can't believe she could do such a thing. She was so sweet and all, I thought . . . I thought—"

"Oh, we thought so too, Liz," another person chimed in, "but don't be easily fooled. I heard Rooney's lawyer will be filing a case against her sometime soon."

Your other hand went to embrace yourself, clutching against the side of your sweater as you might lose it.

"It was a risk on the producer's part to still include her in this film," said another, "knowing her reputation."

In the following silence, you could hear Elizabeth's sigh. "God, I wouldn't have known."

It was complete torture, having to listen through it all, having to witness how someone you had grown close to in the past few weeks could crush you down in an instant. Five minutes and thirty seven seconds, to be exact.

As if the gods above had acknowledged you had suffered enough, they eventually left the comfort room and began discussing about the next scenes as they walked through the door.

When you heard the door shut close, you broke down. The kind of cry where you seemed to be running out of air to breathe, as if you had been clawing your insides until there's nothing left. You didn't think it was possible to cry for someone like this. You felt like a kid, but you couldn't wail louder since anyone could just walk into the toilet.

The gossips you had endured during highschool, about you being gay, had nothing in comparison to what just happened. Especially the one who was involved was someone special to you. And it felt worse coming from her. To think that Lizzie would actually believe them, believe the rumors circulating about you. To think that she could be different from others. But you'd thought wrong.

It all started with Rooney. She was an actress you fell in love with when you got to work with her and Tom in Carol movie. You had been together with Rooney for almost six years. And yet for one simple action, a drunk crewmate kissing you on the lips inside the producer's room, mistaking you as his girlfriend, Rooney threw everything.

It was all one big misunderstanding. One night, you were just making love. The next, you weren't allowed to enter the penthouse you were both staying, considering Rooney owned that unit and you gave up yours when you moved in with her.

Her sister, Kate, the ever merciful one, contacted you afterwards the sudden eviction, saying that she would try to persuade Rooney to be at least forgiving to let you stay for the meantime while you were looking for another place to live.

But that didn't happen. After that incident, rumors of you cheating started to spread around in the industry, some were exaggerated to give that appeal. And no one trusted you anymore, that you would only use people to your own benefit.

If you weren't only friends with the director of the current film you were working with, you wouldn't have any project.

And then you met Elizabeth Olsen.

You can call me Lizzie, by the way, was what she said when the two of you first talked.

Lizzie had a very distinctive and elegant appearance. She had fair skin, light brown hair, and expressive eyes that were usually a striking green. She was almost an inch taller than you, but if she wore heels, you'd always look up to her whenever the two of you were talking.

You knew her from her massive role as Wanda Maximoff in Marvel Universe films, and you even used to idolize her as someone who's good in everything, no matter what genre the film she was in.

And you both just instantly clicked, like you were made for each other. You could talk to her for hours and hours through the production days, either before the filming would start, during breaks or at the end of the day. She would also share everything to you, with enthusiasm to your mutual interests, as if you were long-time friends. She looked at you without judgment, making you wonder if she knew about the rumors, the one thing that could destroy this newfound promising relationship. Knowing Lizzie wasn't into social media and stuff was what kept you asleep most nights.

You had even asked her to a date that weekend and you both enjoyed it to the fact that she almost invited you inside her nearby apartment when you gave her a ride home. There was this kind of feeling you feel whenever she was around, sometimes butterflies, sometimes longing.

But everything crumbled down when a newcomer saw the two of you flirting with each other.

YOU SPLASHED some cold water into your face as you prepared yourself to face the outside world, hoping it wasn't that obvious that you were just crying seconds ago.

When you went back to the studio to get some work done, you saw Lizzie on one corner practicing some lines with her co-star.

Maybe you were only overthinking it. Maybe she would see you through, talk to you about it, listen to your side of the story. But when you approached them, they only went silent.

"Hey," you greeted, trying to diminish any awkwardness.

"Hi Y/n," Lizzie replied with a smile, "we're just quickly rehearsing for the next scene."

"Oh, okay, sorry to bother you both," you said, "I'll just talk to you later then."

She only smiled back as she went back to her script. You would have just let it go if it weren't for the fact that she would always choose to talk to you.

LATER was no different as you went to knock against the door of her trailer upon hearing Lizzie's laughter inside. Abruptly, the laughters died, and you swore you could hear shushing. When her friend opened the door the second time you knocked, said friend only told you Lizzie wasn't in there even when you knew she was.

THROUGH the days that followed, it was slowly sinking in that maybe they got her too. That Lizzie believed them too.

You tried to give Lizzie the benefit of the doubt. That maybe she was only busy, knowing the most critical scenes were being shot. But you had probably sent her a lot of messages to which Lizzie had only replied words fewer and bland as compared to the older ones she had sent you.

WHEN you tried to approach Lizzie during one of the breaks, surprising her with your favorite cheesecake she said she liked, she thanked you rather hurriedly.

"Thanks, Y/n," she said. "You shouldn't have."

"It's fine," you said back, brushing her off as she tried to return the box to you. "I was in the area earlier when I passed by the store, and I remembered you wanting to eat another slice of it."

What was redness that you used to see adorned on Lizzie's cheeks, was inexistent as she hesitantly accepted the gift. You could tell she was sporting a smile you had seen her do whenever she was uncomfortable during interviews.

It gave you the kick to stop whatever this was you were doing. You then decided not to torture her anymore with how forward you were. It was clear she didn't want anything to do with you. That you were just mere friends in passing. That that date was only that. Nothing more.

"Lizzie!" someone called her from afar, apparently saving her from this awkward interaction. Saving you both.

"Shoot, sorry, Y/n," she said with an apologetic smile. "I have to leave, but thank you again for this. You're too sweet for this world."

You forced a huge smile her way. "Yeah, no worries. See you later."

BUT YOU had avoided her later. You had avoided them. And through the days that followed, you began distancing yourself from the cast and crew, knowing now what they had been talking behind your back. You just went to the studio to help work with the script then went back straight home. No more small talks in the hallway as you passed by them, occasionally wearing a hoodie over your face, wishing it was Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.

At nights, you stared at the photos of the two of you together during production and even that one dinner date you had at a private restaurant, wondering how two individuals went from these to complete strangers.

You couldn't help but wonder if Lizzie has missed you at all. But when you glanced at her from a distance whenever you couldn't avoid not coming to the studio, laughing and making vlog with her co-stars and makeup artists, you could feel she was glad she dodged a bullet that was you. That she almost went out with someone like you, someone who couldn't be trusted.

You had even stopped eating your favorite cheesecake, knowing it would only remind you of her. Lesson learned. Never suggest your favorites to anyone.

THAT was when you started hanging out with Emma Watson, whom you had gotten closer as you were part of her writing crew in another film you were working for.

She had well defined cheekbones and chocolate brown eyes. But what stood out the most was her English accent. Sometimes, you just wanted to listen to her talk all day.

Emma already knew the rumors about you, and called them bullshit. Maybe it was the British in her, but she told you she didn't care about anyone's past other than first impressions. Besides, if she weren't a fan of your works, she wouldn't have given a chance to know you.

When she revealed to you she liked girls too, you grew more comfortable around her.

You also started to make friends with the other film's crew, and maybe that was what you needed, what you were missing. You no longer felt sad or lonely whenever you were around them. And having to fit two jobs in a day, it felt different having something to look forward to whenever you finished working for Lizzie's film. Good kind of different.

"WAIT, you're already leaving? Are you not going with us?" your director friend asked the moment he saw you packing things up, preparing to leave.

"What do you mean?"

"Liz invited the whole cast and crew for a housewarming party at her new house," he replied.

You had no idea but who were you to receive first invitation from her in the first place. You were a nobody.

"Oh I . . . I actually am needed to get this edit reviewed," you said, easily making up an excuse. Although technically, it wasn't a lie.

"That's a bummer. I was pretty sure Liz said to invite you too." He sighed. "Well, don't work yourself too hard, Y/n."

You only smiled back as you left, staying out of sight from others, keeping distance away from the lobby where you could see the whole cast chatting as they waited for the car service to get to Lizzie's house. And for a brief moment, you caught sight of the woman who once captured your heart, broke it and left to rot. Elizabeth looked so beautiful and fresh even after a day's production, and she was wearing that jacket she stole from you that very first day.

"HAVE you ever loved someone?"

You had been staring at your notifications, watching for what seemed like hours at Lizzie's messages asking where you were and why you weren't at her housewarming party.

You didn't even noticed Emma had asked you a question until she nudged your shoulder.

"Sorry, what?" you asked, slipping your phone into your pocket.

"I asked if you've ever loved someone? Any lovers? Girlfriends? Boyfriend? Flings?" she asked teasingly, "It's just I haven't seen you around with anyone."

"I mean, you've heard the rumors—"

"Fuck all the rumors, I'm not blind, Y/n," Emma interrupted. "You're actually gorgeous. It could cause a scandal."

Avoiding the girl's gaze, you laughed at her. "What are you suggesting?"

There was complete silence, making you look back at Emma deep in thoughts.

"What do you say about you becoming my girlfriend?"

"What?"

"It's just for PR stuff and all," she reasoned. "And for promoting this movie."

"Promoting? They'd hate you. They'd hate me more."

"At least, it would be a distraction from the public. I haven't actually come out as gay but I've provided signs, yet people just turn a blind eye. And this will help confirm my sexuality. If they hated me for dating the rumored you, they'd hate me less for being gay."

You fell silent as you thought about it.

"My PR manager will pay you, of course. You're saving up for a house, right? I want to help you."

Then she looked at her hands on her lap, nervous. "Besides, you're the only one I felt comfortable doing this with." She then glanced back at you. "So . . . Are you with me?"

WHEN you started going out with Emma publicly, the photos of you together holding hands in public immediately spread through the news and gossip channels. You started to become famous, more on the bad side though, of how you were only using Emma again for your selfish reasons and how stupid Emma was for dating you.

At least, there were only a few articles about how disappointed they were Emma turned out to be gay. People were more disappointed she was dating a parasite.

IT WAS almost a month after when you received a missed call from your ex girlfriend Rooney. And she had called you multiple times until you blocked her number. And when she figured out you blocked her, she sent you numerous emails.

Emma was with you as you anxiously worked through the next scene's script.

"You okay?" Emma asked, her hand on your shoulder made you jump on your seat. "Sorry."

"It's okay," you managed to reply.

"What are you worrying about?"

You hesitated, frown growing deeper. "It's just . . . I think my ex girlfriend will finally end my career."

"How?"

"She's going to file a case against me," you said, almost in tears.

"Is that what you think she's going to do?" She chuckled softly.

"What are you giggling about? It's not funny."

"Sorry," she went on still laughing, "but you have to see this."

Apparently, Rooney had posted a public apology addressed to you, clearing you out, redeeming your image, and admitting it was her jealousy that ended your relationship, that she was willing to destroy her career in exchange for yours. And that she wanted so badly to talk to you if you'd only let her.

It felt like a relief as you saw the ones who reposted the post, as you read the comments from people defending you and supporting you, that Emma was a better choice than Rooney. It felt like the weight of the world was taken off your shoulder.

Emma then wrapped her arms around you as you sobbed into her chest. And she only let you.

Some weeks later, Emma asked you out on a date. A real date, saying she was willing to try. Maybe it was Rooney's post that made her trust you. Maybe she was just scared. But you also wanted to try it with her.

Rooney eventually stopped contacting you. The damage has already been done. One day, you may be able to forgive her. But never to forget.

MAYBE the public apology was what made Lizzie finally approached you during the last few days in the production. She brought you a gift, the cheesecake that used to be your favorite. Now, you didn't like how too sweet it was, wanting nothing more than to savor Cornish pasty introduced by your girlfriend Emma.

"Hey, Y/n," she greeted. "I . . . I brought you this."

"Thank you, Lizzie," you said, accepting with haste.

There was awkward silence as she placed her hands inside the pockets of her jeans. "Last day, huh? You want to go for sushi later? My treat."

And maybe it really was the public post Rooney made that made her finally talk to you, as if she was still the same person she was the first time you met. And as if you were still interested in her as you were months ago.

"Sorry, I have to meet Em for dinner tonight," you said, smiling apologetically.

"It's fine, it's fine," she said, brushing you off with a forced chuckle. "So, it's true you two are dating, huh?"

You nodded, avoiding the brunette's gaze. "Yeah, it is."

"She doesn't know how lucky she is."

You paused, wondering why you were no longer feeling any butterflies in your stomach whenever she was around. "I'm the lucky one, actually. Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"G-Goodnight, Y/n."

Like you said, the damage was already done.

[suckerforlovesblog]

Pretty little thing

Pretty little thing Masterlist

Series summary: All Mr. Shelby wanted was to remarry. He had to find himself another wife after the death of Grace, not just to take care of his son Charlie but also to grant him access to the finer society of Birmingham. All he wanted the girl to be was a pretty little thing on his arm who simply submitted, obeyed and followed his orders.

And he did find the perfect girl - young, very good looking, of a good upbringing, smart but little did he expect her to have such a strong mind of her own…

All he wanted to do was break her in, like a horse had to be, and his new wife put up a good fight but eventually he is sure, he will break her and make her his completely.

Series warning: Dark!Tommy, toxic relationship, abuse, rape, non consensual intercourse, rough sex, age gap, Sir kink, choking - all the things that come with rough smut

Chapter 1: The perfect girl

Summary: Thomas Shelby is out searching for a wife. Most young women in Birmingham throw themselves at him but he doesn’t like that and goes out further to search for the perfect girl to be on his arm whilst hanging on his lips.

Chapter Warning: age gap, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 1.5k

~ tag list: @ncoleys , @amberpanda99 , @priyajoyy @tommyshelbywhore @swordofawriter @goth-cowgirl-03 @thenattitude @sheun-555 @meetmeatyourworst @bruher @frazie99 @blvebanisters @jessimay89 ~

I‘m very intrigued to hear your thoughts!

Also: please let me know what you would like to read! My requests are OPEN!

End of 1925:

Thomas Shelby was still grieving the death of his beloved wife Grace, even after an entire year, and everyone around him knew. He did blame himself for her death because he gave her the bewitched jewel to wear and even put it onto her himself. And she wore it that night, like a target painted on her forehead. But business had to keep going and Charlie desperately needed a mother figure in his life. Frances, the maid, was doing her best and Ada and Polly came to help out from time the time but it just wasn’t the same. He had even hired a governess, a very pretty thing, blonde and petite and at least fifteen years younger then him, to attend to his son’s needs because he couldn’t always be there for him. Thomas who was now nearing forty, also really enjoyed the governess presence, at least when he bend her over a table, fucked her from behind and she didn’t talk. Other than that he avoided her most of the time and let her do her work.

She fulfilled his needs but it didn’t help him with business.

So, Thomas Shelby called a family meeting at Arrow House and now everyone was sitting in front of him in the drawing room: Arthur and Linda, John and Esme, Polly and Michael, Ada, Finn, Charlie, Curly, Jeremia and his son, and Lizzie, of course. Sometimes he still slept with her but she would never be good enough to be his wife. He did like her but Lizzie’s social standing was beneath his new position as a business man.

“Thank you everyone for coming, eh!”, Tommy’s voice boomed: “I have an important announcement to make and I think I need everyone’s help.” All the people in the small room looked at him. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and then said: “I decided that it’s time for me to remarry. It will be good for business.” Lizzie looked at him with wide sad eyes, knowing he would never share the feelings she had for him. Arthur stood up, smiling and went up to give Thomas a small hug, “Proud of you, Tom. Linda will help for sure.” Everyone else looked reassuring and Curly started babbling something no one was able to make out. “May I ask what kind of business you think of concluding?”, Polly said. “Yes but I will not tell just yet ‘eh.”, Tommy says, wetting his lip, “I just think a wife will open up new branches for us and make the company more respectable.” He then puts a cigarette between his lips, after fishing it out of the gold case from the pocket of his coat: “Anyways today is a day to celebrate and I invite you all to dinner. Now, Michael, John and Arthur stay, everyone else I see at dinner.” Thomas lights his cigarette whilst everyone leaves the room except for his brothers and Michael. He sits back down and explains the guys what he’s looking for in his future wife, mostly talking to Michael because the girl should be around his age, a very desirable age in his opinion. The four men make a plan to start the search for his wife tomorrow, starting with all the respectable families in Birmingham and then toast to their success with Irish whiskey, of course.

Early spring of 1926:

Thomas and Michael looked at all the young women in Birmingham, from a respectable upbringing at least. John joked that the two of them fucked their way through Birmingham and that was true to some extent. None of the girls satisfied Thomas’ needs however and Michael was growing tired. “If you keep going like that Tom, we will never find a girl for you. One is not tall enough, the next one doesn’t have enough tits, another one is too stupid, then she is pretty but not gorgeous. This is exhausting.”, Michael says looking at him from the drivers seat of the new Bentley Thomas got. The car was extremely luxurious and expensive.

“Well Michael, we gotta find the perfect girl for me, eh.”, he answered, taking a puff of his cigarette, “She needs to be smart and eloquent for me to be able to bring her around business partners. But she ought to be gorgeous as well because then negotiations will be even easier because men are dumbstruck if they’re accompanied by beautiful women.” Michael also lights a cigarette: “I get that Tom but if we keep going at that speed my dick won’t work anymore with the girl I may marry in the future because I emptied everything I have into some girls” They both laughed and kept driving to meet Alfie Solomons in Camden Town for business.

After driving past the first couple of buildings, he barks at Michael to stop the car and Thomas basically jumps out. He brushes his coat down, fishes a cigarette out of its case and puts it into it mouth leaving Michael more than puzzled. Thomas started walking towards a building, lighting the cigarette with a match and then enters a shop, a tailoring shop it appears. Michael still sits in the car, smoking a cigarette as well and waiting for him to come back.

Thomas looks around the shop, searching for the woman he just saw. He only saw her side profile but Tommy knew she was the one, now on his way to make her his, willing to do whatever it might take and hoping she wasn’t already married. Fuck, even if she was, he were to make her his for sure.

He was so occupied with his thoughts that he didn’t even hear the little bell ring as he entered through the door and then the people inside the shop turning to him. The pretty woman he searched for was sitting behind a desk to his right and he made his way towards her but was stopped abruptly in his step by the owner of the shop. “Sir”, the small man called out, “how may I help you?” “Aye, I need a new suit please and may I have a word with the young lady at the desk?”, Thomas answers. “For sure”, the man says in a low purr, scarred of the dominance in his voice, “we will leave you to it, Sir.” Tommy nods and the man leaves the shop through the back door, pulling a women behind him.

Thomas approaches the woman. She was already looking at him through her Y/E/C eyes, smiling lightly. “Hello miss, my name is Thomas Shelby, owner of the Shelby Company Limited. I saw you out in the street and you caught my eye”, he said and smiled an earnest smile. “My name is Y/N, my farther is the owner of the shop.”, the girl answered. He looked at her thoroughly and she got even more prettier the longer he looked at her. Although Thomas didn’t feel any affection towards her but she was very pretty for sure and he knew that she would be the perfect wife: young, a pretty face and fine features, nice hair, a slim figure. Her voice was very calm and had a pretty sound to it. He knew she would be the perfect little thing on his arm. He looks at her with his icy blue eyes, “Tell me sweetheart, how old are you?” “I just turned 18, Sir”, she said. The obedience and innocence in her voice made him hard, without help anyways, for the first time since Grace died. His heart ached for his lost love but he needed this to work and pushed the face of his dead wife out of his thoughts. “You’re not married, eh?”, he asked the girl more nearly twenty years younger then him. She shook his head, seemingly submitting him to, scarred of his booming figure. He really liked that and smiled: “Please get your farther to me, I need to speak with him. In private. And take the measurements for the suit I ordered, will you sweetheart?” She got up, nodding and getting her farther at first, afterwards measuring him and writing all the details down for his order. She was sent out shortly after, leaving her farther with the unknown man with the pretty blue eyes.

“Tell me Sir, is everything to your liking so far”, the old man asked Thomas. “Yes, indeed”, he answered with his thick Birmingham accent, “I would like to marry your daughter. I know this sounds rushed but she immediately caught my eye and I can provide for her very well.” The older man, the girls farther, looked at him reserved and averse. Thomas looked at him with his blue piercing eyes, radiating pride and dominance and the older man submitted. “Listen, eh, I give you a great deal for her and promise to provide and care for the girl.”, Thomas says, putting another cigarette between his lips, letting it dangle for a little while before lightning it with a match.

He pursued the conversation for a little while longer, settling everything important, like the wedding date and the money the family will receive. After it was all settled Thomas went outside of the shop, calling Michael to set up and then seal the document.

The girl came back into the shop, Thomas walked over to her and put his hand on her waist. She looked up at him confused but he just smiled at Michael: “Meet my darling fiancé, Y/N. We will be married in two weeks time and she will be Mrs. Shelby.”

[anghraine]

It's obvious that I'm adamantly opposed to the idea that Darcy does not deserve Elizabeth's good opinion/love, doesn't deserve his happy ending with her, is generally inferior to her, whatever.

I will say, however, that there is someone who has a good opinion of him that he does very little to earn. I think you could make a much better argument in that case that he doesn't really deserve it. And yet it's so endearing:

[Mrs Bennet:] “Mrs Long told me last night that he [Darcy] sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.” “Are you quite sure, ma’am? Is not there a little mistake?” said Jane. “I certainly saw Mr Darcy speaking to her.” “Ay, because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to.” “Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With them he is remarkably agreeable.”

-

Jane's reaction to Wickham's story:

“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such a manner,—one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it."

Jane passing on Bingley's account:

"I am sorry to say that by his account, as well as his sister’s, Mr Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr Darcy’s regard."

Jane after Wickham's story becomes common "knowledge":

Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be any extenuating circumstances in the case unknown to the society of Hertfordshire: her mild and steady candour always pleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes; but by everybody else Mr Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.

Jane after Elizabeth tells her about the Hunsford proposal:

She [Jane] was sorry that Mr Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for the unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him.

Jane is so sad about how sad Darcy must be!

“His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” said she [Jane], “and certainly ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his disappointment.”

Jane's response to hearing the truth about Wickham:

What a stroke was this for poor Jane, who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind as was here collected in one individual! Nor was Darcy’s vindication, though grateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery.

Jane still vicariously suffering for Darcy:

“Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr Darcy! dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and with the knowledge of your ill opinion too! and having to relate such a thing of his sister! It is really too distressing, I am sure you must feel it so.”

Jane even points out that Darcy's general behavior and demeanor never struck her as all that bad:

[Elizabeth]: “There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it.” [Jane]: “I never thought Mr Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you used to do.”

Elizabeth keeps so much of her relationship with Darcy hidden through the later novel that Jane doesn't have reason to say much about him, but after their engagement, Elizabeth worries about her family's response:

she anticipated what would be felt in the family when her situation became known: she was aware that no one liked him but Jane

When Elizabeth tells Jane about the engagement, Jane is shocked and baffled. Elizabeth assures her of her change in feeling, and adds:

"But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have such a brother?” “Very, very much."

Jane continues to be worried that Elizabeth doesn't really love Darcy and wants details that she eventually does receive.

“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley’s friend and your husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me."

Yes: Darcy is more dear to Jane than her father, mother, other three sisters, friends, and four uncles and aunts.

As for Darcy, he certainly likes and respects her. He describes her in the letter as amiable, cheerful, engaging, and explicitly excludes her from his criticisms of the Bennets. Back at Netherfield, he's noted as ignoring Miss Bingley to be polite towards Jane, and after his own engagement, he points out Elizabeth's care for Jane as early proof of her own goodness. Jane is one of only three characters he refers to by their first name alone by the end of the book (the others are Elizabeth and Georgiana).

So it's not that he doesn't appreciate her in his own way. I actually think the quiet rapport between them is really cute even though Jane is the person who suffers the most for Darcy's mistakes. But damn, Jane.

[russellsppttemplates]

My girls (Lance Stroll)

Lance gave Juno one job: to make sure his girls were looked after while he was away at a triple header

Note: english is not my first language. My baby fever has been through the roof lately, and while I was working on this, another blurb came through for dad!Lance, so I joined them.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader is pregnant

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Have you seen Juno?", Margot asked her older sister while she did her homework, "where's mummy? She usually is where mummy is", Addalynn smiled, "I just need to finish this question and then I can go downstairs with you, wait a bit for me, please", she asked.

Margot waited for her, standing by her desk and watching curiously as her older sister wrote on her notebook until she finished, tidying her desk and storing the notebook back in her backpack, "we can go downstairs now", she smiled, holding Margot's hand and going down the stairs with her, the patter from Luna's paws and nails on the floor telling them you were in the kitchen.

You had only read about it in books, and since Luna had only been in your family for a little over a year, you never experienced being pregnant while having a dog. So far, besides your two daughters, you also had a four-pawed shadow following you around, "Luna, you can't get all tangled between my ankles, okay? Mummy can't see you that well anymore, only your tail every now and again", you giggled as you looked for her snout, hearing the girls approaching you.

"I knew she'd be here", Addy whispered to Margot as she called the dog, sitting on the floor to play with the dog.

"Are you hungry, girls? I can make you something before we sit down for dinner", you offered, figuring that dinner would still take a while to be ready.

"No, we just wanted to play with Juno", Margot said, pulling on the rope material so Juno could pull back.

"I finished my homework, too, and we knew Juno would be where you were", Addalynn added as you blushed slightly, "she's following daddy's request to look after you!", both girls giggled.

"She's looking after all of us - but I think she does come to stay with me whenever she wants a rest", you winked, "she knows I won't go too far too quickly", you offered.

When you finished dinner and tidying up with the girls' help, they were quick to go to the living room, turning on the TV and finding the channel.

"Is daddy on track yet?", you asked, ushering Juno to her spot on the sofa by your left before you sat down next to the girls on your right.

"Lizzie was saying they're going to start soon", Addy added as she unfolded the blanket on top of her and Margot's legs, "do you want some of the blanket too?", she asked.

"I have mine here, love, thank you, though", you smiled, arranging it under your bump carefully as you stretched your legs on the footstool, "Oh, forgot my pillow", you mumbled, changing your position.

"I'll get it, mummy!", Margot offered, getting the pillow you needed and placing it under your feet, "is it good?", she checked.

"It is, sweetheart, thank you", you smiled at her attentiveness as she climbed back on the sofa.

"Daddy is going really fast!", Margot pointed out, "is this the one where he could win?".

"This is practice still, the one where he can go for the pole position is much later and you will be asleep by then", you stated, not wanting to bend their bedtime routine even more than you were already doing.

"Okay", they said in unison, respecting your orders. Overall, they were pretty good at following what you asked them to do, usually only throwing tantrums when they were really tired and understanding what could and couldn't be negotiated pretty well. Of course they were still kids and had their developmental needs and challenges, but you also had an inkling that Lance had spoken to them about how they needed to behave extra well since he wouldn't be coming home for three weeks.

.

You rolled to Lance's side of the bed, finding Luna already looking at you, "the girls are not up yet?", you mused, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

Getting up gently, allowing your back and hips to stretch properly and readying yourself to go back to spending most of the day in a standing position, "Good morning, baby girl, you're up too, at least, you can keep me and Juno company", you smiled, rubbing your bump softly as you felt her movements, little feet kicking your ribs gently for now.

The silence didn't last for too long as when you were getting yourself dressed, Juno's ears popped when she heard noise, leaving you briefly to go to the girls' bedrooms. Putting on your lounge wear set and making sure it would be stretchy enough around your bump you stepped into the corridor to find your two curly haired girls petting Juno.

"Good morning, mummy! Did you sleep well?", Addalynn asked, coming close to give you a hug.

"Good morning, my loves. I did, did you?", you kissed the top of her head before kissing Margot's as well, hugging her too, "I'm going to let Juno out in the garden so she can do her business, are you coming down now?", you wondered as you picked out comfy clothes for them.

"I'll go in a bit - I need to pee!", Margot let you know before speeding to the bathroom.

You opened the back door for Juno first and then started making breakfast.

The doorbell rang, making Juno go up to the door with you, and once you opened it, she barked loudly at the man holding a box, "Juno, it's okay!", you assured her as she took a protective stance in front of you, "she's harmless, really, but she will bark at anyone she doesn't know, I'm sorry if she scared you", you told him.

"It's fine, no worries, I used to have one just like her when my children were younger", the delivery man, "Y/N Stroll, right? These two boxes are for you, may I?", he asked, wanting to help you by at least putting the package on top of the table near the door.

"Sure, thank you! Juno, come here!", you called the brown labrador so she wouldn't get in the way.

"There you go", he said, "I hope you have a good day!", he waved as he walked back to the car.

"Thank you, you too!", you waved back before closing the door.

The girls walked down the stairs, Addalynn in the outfit you picked out and Margot holding her clothes on her hand, "who was that, mummy?".

"A delivery man - we got two packages. Do you need help getting dressed, love?", you asked Margot, who nodded as she looked at the smaller box.

"Can we see what's inside?", Addalynn quesioned.

"Sure, you girls do that one while I do this one", you encouraged, ripping the tape on the box on the table to see a beautiful bunch of flowers along with a card.

I can't wait to be back home, I miss you girls so much!

There are some flowers for you and the girls and a little treat for Juno, too - figured she wouldn't be the most gentle with a plant!

I love you!

- Lance

"Mummy, this one has flowers, too!", Margot showed you two smaller bunches of flowers and a bag with some dog treats.

"These are from daddy! This one is for me, each of those is for you and then some treats for Juno", you explained, showing them the card so Addalynn could read it out loud as you carried the flowers to the kitchen so you could put them in water.

"Let's take a photo and send it to daddy, okay? Smile big, my loves!", you cheered, snapping a cute photo of the girls, Juno and the flowers and sending it to Lance.

Even though it was late where he was, your husband still sent you a text with many heart emojis and then another one reading "these are three of my favourite girls, and I would like to see the other two 👀".

Taking a selfie in the mirrow on the hallway, perfectly showing your baby bump, you sent it back to Lance, earning the same reaction to the first one you sent.

After having breakfast, you sat on the sofa to watch the qualifying session, the girls laying out their Lego sets, "daddy didn't tell you in which position he was starting?", Addy mused.

"No, I told him we would watch it today and I stayed away from the news, too, so I have no idea what's going to happen", you offered, pressing play on the remote to start the program.

Juno was quick to recognise Lance, getting up from her spot where she rested her head on your legs, tail wagging, "yes, Juno, that's daddy!", Margot squealed.

"Does that mean daddy got P3?", Addalynn asked as the voice over as they filmed the paddock spoke about a penalty, "yes, he goes up a place", you smiled.

Later on the night, your baby girl couldn't seem to settle so sleep wasn't coming by easily, "if your sisters find out that you're keeping me up so we can watch daddy's race, we're going to be in trouble", you spoke, fluffing the pillows as Juno looked up at you, "you can't tell anyone either, okay?", you warned the dog as you set up you iPad on your bedside table.

Lance ended up in second place, the podium celebrations showing his happiness as he sprayed the champagne on the other drivers, "mummy's tired, baby girl, and daddy is flying back soon", you tried to soothe her by rubbing your bump, hoping she would slow down enough for you to sleep once you turned off the streaming channel.

.

Lance couldn't wait to be back home, getting his luggage from the plane as soon as he could before he walked to his car, putting all his belongings inside and driving home to his family. Triple headers were hard as it was, but now that he had his family waiting back home, they were even harder.

He closed the garage door and parked the car, taking his luggage to the laundry room before expecting to meet the girls at the corridor but finding the whole floor empty.

Lance found you napping on his side of the bed, the girls napping on your side and Juno by the feet of the bed.

Smiling at the view, he walked up gently to you, Juno alert as she sensed someone else in the room and barking before noticing it was Lance, stepping closer to him to rub her snout on his legs, "hey, Juno, you did a good job here from what I can see!", he scratched her ears.

The girls stirred in their sleep, blinking their eyes a couple of times before looking at him, "hey, girls", he whispered.

"Daddy!", they yelled, making him kneel on the floor so he could hug them closely, "I missed you princesses so so so much", he said, inhaling their scent and squeezing their bodies closer to his.

"We missed you too, daddy", Margot said, kissing his cheek while Addalynn nodded, snuggling herself closer to Lance.

You turned on your side, opening your eyes to see Lance and the girls, "you're home already?", you croaked out, a sleepy smile on your lips.

Lance climbed up on the bed so he could hug you close, "I am, love", he greeted as his arms wrapped around your body.

"Hello, my love", you whispered against his lips before kissing him, feeling his hands rub your bump

"Hey, darling", he said once he let go of the kiss, "baby girl has grown so much these past weeks, hm?", he smiled, pecking your lips, "you're so beautiful, Y/N - isn't it true, girls? Mummy looks so beautiful", he added as they nodded, "I have all of my beautiful girls with me", he pulled them into the hug, squeezing you together for a family cuddle.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy decides what to do about Mosley, and Lizzie comes home.

Word Count: 6,249

Warnings: Insecurity, a very unhappy marriage, and references to polyamory.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 5: The Thread is Ripping

“Which one is Mosley?”

Lucy and Ada were sitting in the observation booth, overlooking the MP’s benches. Craning her head to peer down at the men, Lucy gestured with her cigarette towards where Mosley sat, his head cocked as he listened to Tommy speak. 

“That one.”

Ada leaned forward, arms resting on the banister, eyes fixing on Mosley with a keen level of scrutiny in them that reminded Lucy and awful lot of how Tommy looked at someone when he was first sizing them up. 

Bringing her cigarette back to her lips, Lucy turned her attention back to Tommy, allowing herself a moment to just enjoy watching him speak. 

“I’m really not sure about going ahead with this meeting, Lucy,” Ada told her as they went to meet Tommy out in the hall after the speakers were done.  

“I know. But Tommy wants to hear what he has to say.”

“As if a man like that could have anything good to say.”

“All the more reason to hear it, then.”

“You can’t possibly be alright with Tommy considering working with him.”

“It’s just drinks, Ada. And he’s not considering anything with Mosley yet.”

Ada’s voice lowered, eyes shifting around to make sure no one was listening. “So what is he doing, then? Because I know my brother, and as bloody infuriating as he can be sometimes, I don’t believe that he actually agrees with any of Mosley’s more recent policies.”

A group of men dressed in fine, pressed suits walked past them. Lucy eyes them warily, waiting until they had passed before speaking. 

“Burying our heads in the sand when it comes to Mosley and the growing movement behind him isn’t going to help anyone. Better to get to know if he and this new party he’s supposedly forming are an actual threat or not.”

“So you can deal with it now?”

Lucy wetted her lips. “Better to kill it while it’s young than when it’s grown formidable and strong.”

She could feel Ada still watching her while she broke their gaze to look around for Tommy.

“Why did he even ask me here?”

Lucy looked back at her, weighed in her mind if it was worth telling her or not, and decided that it was. “Because Mosley scares him.”

Shocked silence met her at that. There was a shift in Ada, as she finally started to understand what they were dealing with. “Does he scare you?”

“Yes.” She finally heard Tommy’s telltale heavy footfalls coming up behind them, turning to find him approaching hastily. 

“Sorry, got cornered by a few people. Had to make small talk. Shall we?” He gestured down the hall. 

“Tommy, you made me your political advisor,” Ada said as they walked. “And as your political advisor, it is my official advice that you don’t meet with Mr. Mosley.”

“Yes, I know.”

They made their way into a dimly lit, crowded lounge, embellished by leather seats and chairs, each circular table adorned with a small red-shaded lamp. MPs and other political figures were gathered at tables or milling about, the lounge with its bar a common place for them to gather to discuss business or other dealings. 

Mosley was already seated at a table when they arrived, a newspaper held up to his face. He lowered it at the sound of their approaching footsteps, face breaking into a beaming smile that did nothing to hide the deadness of his eyes as he stood to greet them and shake Tommy’s hand. 

“And Miss. Winters, of course, wonderful to see you again.”

She forced herself to shake his hand, skin crawling the entire time that their palms made contact. His leering gaze was respitefully pulled quickly away from her as his attention shifted towards Ada as Tommy introduced them. 

She tried to hide how she inched a little closer to Tommy before they sat down.

From an outside perspective, it may have looked like the meeting went smoothly. But as Mosley continued to speak, Lucy felt her sense of unnerving grow.

“You know, I was rather hoping we might have this meeting alone,” Mosley said, eyes never leaving Tommy’s. 

“Lucy accompanies me to most of my meetings, Mr. Mosley, and my sister is my political advisor,” Tommy explained. 

Ada spoke up, explaining that she had advised Tommy not to meet with him, and Mosley’s attention turned directly onto her. Lucy was impressed at the way Ada met his dark, empty gaze without so much as blinking. When he brought his hand down with a crash onto the table, shouting in demand that the whiskey they’d ordered only a few short minutes ago be brought out now, his gaze remained fixed pointedly on Ada. A clear telegraphing of his disapproval of her presence. An attempt at intimidation. At frightening her. 

If Ada was at all frightened by the display, she did a marvelous job hiding it. The corner of her lips turned up on one side, and she shot Lucy a look of mild amusement at the childish behavior from across the table. 

Can you believe that shit, Luce? her eyes seemed to say. Lucy managed a smirk back at her, reaching into her pocket for her cigarettes. Mosley’s gaze was turned back fully onto Tommy, but not for one second did Lucy think that he hadn’t taken note of the quiet exchange between her and Ada.

Good. Better for him to know that they thought him ridiculous rather than that they were scared of him. 

He dodged making any direct confirmations that facism was where he was moving towards politically. Instead, he gracefully turned the conversation towards, of all things, Ireland.

Lucy took a considerable gulp from her whiskey, eyes darting towards Tommy. His face remained schooled into an expression that gave away nothing, but she could tell that he was thinking of the same thing that she was:

That voice, on the other end of the telephone line. An Irish accent, explaining how there were men in Belfast who wanted him dead. Men who Michael had been allegedly cutting deals with.  

Landmines, in their own fucking garden. But who was the gardener? Who planted them? It couldn’t be Michael, he had still been on a ship or in Belfast when they were placed. So who was it, then? The men from Belfast, or someone else?

And what the fuck did Mosley know about it, if anything? Was it just a coincidence, that he brought up Ireland now, of all times? Or was it an indication of something else?

Enemies. Enemies in every fucking direction that they turned. Her skin prickled with that feeling of approaching, looming danger. Drawing nearer and nearer with every breath. 

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t relieved when Ada promptly stood, announcing that she was ready to leave. 

Mosley ignored her. “We’re looking for someone to begin a dialogue with certain elements in Belfast with whom we don’t officially have any dealings.” 

Lucy raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t help but find it a little funny how confident Mosley was that Tommy would be in any way supportive of his ideologies. And yet here he was, inviting him into his organization without seemingly even the slightest worry that Tommy would be opposed. 

It was often that she forgot that other people did not know Tommy like she did. 

Mosley did not seem dissuaded by Tommy’s gentle refusal of the offer. “It would involve a promotion.”

“Birmingham is my concern,” Tommy rose from his seat. Lucy mirrored him. “Ireland bores me.”

She and Ada couldn’t help but share a tiny smile at that. Tommy thanked Mosley for the whiskey, and led the way towards the exit. When she looked back while trailing behind him, it was to see Mosley watching them leave, a smirk pulling at one side of his lips. She turned her head sharply to face forward once more. 

“What the fuck was that about?” Ada asked once they were in an almost deserted hallway, a good distance away from Mosley and the lounge. 

“Ireland. It’s been Ireland’s day all fucking day long,” was all Tommy said in response, sidestepping her attempts to garner any more information on that subject. Instead, he started instructing her to go home and call her contacts from her time in Boston to ask about Michael. They drew aside, Tommy pacing back and forth, sounding off orders. Lucy watched him worriedly, sensing that something inside him was moments away from unraveling. 

“What are you talking about?” Ada asked, as he continued to ramble on about Mosley. 

“I’m talking about an empty chair, Ada,” Tommy’s voice was barely above a whisper. “My chair. My throne. People think that I’m gonna fall. They start behaving in a different way around you.”

“Who thinks that?” Ada had gone still.  

“They start to circle,” Tommy continued, as if he hadn’t even heard her. She shared an alarmed look with Lucy. “Who’s gonna take the throne, eh?”

“Tommy…” Lucy tried, reaching out a hand to him, hoping to pull him back from whatever dark precipice he was teetering on.  

“Linda, she wants some for Arthur…Aberama Gold…people in the north…Michael…” He seemed to only just then realize that words which he had not intended to speak had been pouring from his lips. His jaw hinged shut and he spun away, his back to her and Ada, clearing his throat while raising his cigarette to his lips. When he turned back to them, his expression was collected once more, the mask that had momentarily slipped once again firmly in place. He reissued his order for Ada to go home and make some calls. “I need to get back to Birmingham. Lucy.”  

“Yeah.” She made to follow him, as he was already moving with quick steps down the hall. 

“Lucy–” Ada grabbed at her arm, alarm clear in her voice. Lucy turned half back towards her, taking in the worried look in her wide eyes and reached out to squeeze her arm. 

“I’ve got him. Don’t worry.”

Ada’s lips pressed together, and while the concern still shimmered in her eyes, her shoulders relaxed a little. With a nod, she let Lucy go. 

She had to jog a little to catch up with Tommy, his steps more hurried than usual. Stupid short legs, she mentally cursed, shooting them a glower before quickening her pace. 

“Tommy…” she tried to get his attention, but he didn’t acknowledge her, and she decided not to try again until after they were out of the office and in the car, pulling out onto the street to start the trek back to Birmingham. 

“No one is taking anything,” she said finally, definitively. “I won’t let them.” When he didn’t respond, she looked over at him. Distress and paranoia was still etched onto his face, his eyes shifting around as if searching for unseen enemies. “Tommy?”   

“They’re all coming at us, Lucy.”

“Michael is a problem,” she acknowledged. “And so are the people up north. But I think Linda really just wants to get away. She’d sooner take Arthur back into the country than try to have him take your position. And you know that Arthur would never agree to usurping you. Aberama’s loyalty is guaranteed so long as we continue to support Bonnie’s boxing career.” She reached out to smooth a hand over the back of his head. “We’re alright. It’s mostly Michael and Mosley that we need to worry about now.” She watched his throat work as he swallowed, and she dropped her hand to instead rest on his forearm. “And, if any of the others do try to betray us, I’ll just kill them.”

He let out a small snort, looking over at her fondly. She was turned almost entirely with her side pressed against the leather seats of the car, body jostling slightly as they bounced along the uneven cobblestones. She cupped his cheek momentarily, a reassuring smile tugging at her lips. Some of the frantic paranoia had gone out in his eyes, and she relaxed at the knowledge that she’d managed to calm him down at least somewhat. He leaned into her touch, quickly turning his head to press a kiss to the center of her palm before returning his eyes back to the road. 

“What would I do without you, eh?” he asked. She pressed herself to his side, the physical contact doing wonders to calm both of them. And there in the safety of the shell of the car, she didn’t need to worry about anyone spotting them. Her head came to nestle against his shoulder, the material of his coat soft against her cheek. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking in regards to Mosley,” she requested. Tommy sighed, eyes remaining on the road while she rubbed a hand up and down his chest. 

“I don’t think he’s going to stop trying to get me to join his new party.”

“You’re not a fascist.” 

“Some in the family would say otherwise.” 

“Then they’d be wrong.” 

Tommy gave her a little peck on the side of the head for that. “I think he may be one of the worst people I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And we’ve known some bad ones over the years.”

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he trailed the other through her hair. Being careful, as he always was, not to pull on any of the strands. “I have an idea. But it’s dangerous. And I’ll need to talk to Younger…”

She gave him a knowing look. “You want to do to Mosley and the fascists what you’ve been doing to Jessie and the communists.” 

“Yes.” 

“You think that you can stomach pretending to be one of them?”

“If it means stopping him.”

She nodded. Mosley was a monster creeping in the dark, waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Someone had to stop him. Might as well be them. They were probably some of the best equipped for the job, anyway.  

“You would be alright with it?” Tommy asked, and she smiled a little to herself at how he always sought out her opinion on things. 

“I’m happy with anything that wipes that smug look off his face.” Closing her eyes, she tilted her head to press a kiss to his neck. “You have my support. Always.”

“Thanks, love.” His hand dropped from stroking through her hair to wrap around her shoulders. “Have you managed to dig up anything on this Captain Swing yet?”

“Not much. Her real name is Laura McKee. She really is a commander in the IRA. That’s all our friends in Belfast have been able to find out, so far. I told them to keep digging.”

“Right.” 

They rode in silence for a stretch of time. 

“Are Lizzie and Ruby still coming home today?” she asked.

“Far as I know.”

“Maybe…she’ll be better now that she’s had some time away and gotten things out of her system.” 

“Yeah. Maybe.” He sounded about as optimistic as someone who had just been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Lucy gave him a gentle pat in sympathy. His thumb rubbed back and forth against her upper arm where it was clasped. “Thank you for helping me with everything.”

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair, and together they both turned their eyes to the dark road sprawling out in front of them.  

∗ ∗ ∗

When they arrived home, Tommy took all but three steps into the house, and was promptly collided into by Ruby when she came dashing into the entryway to throw herself into his arms. 

“Daddy!”

“Hello, my girl,” he hoisted her up so that her weight rested against one of his hips. Just the feel of her in his arms was enough to have the ache of missing her lessening. “How are you, eh? Did you have a good time at Uncle Arthur’s?”

She nodded, long dark hair swinging with her movements. “I baked brownies with Auntie Linda.”

“You did?”

“Hey kiddo,” Lucy stretched up on her toes to place a kiss to Ruby’s cheek after handing her coat off to Frances.

“Hi, Lucy!” Ruby beamed at her, and Tommy felt his heart swell. There was a time, he knew, that Lucy had been afraid that Ruby would hate her, given her complicated relationship with her mother. He couldn’t have been more grateful that wasn’t the case. He was pretty sure his sweet girl was incapable of hating anyone. 

Amazing; how something containing such kindness and purity could ever have come from him.      

The click of heels on the floor was his only warning to another figure approaching before Lizzie rounded the corner. Her head was held high, dress swishing around her ankles, hair styled meticulously in dark waves around her face. She did not smile when she saw him. 

Quiet stretched on between them all. Finally, he forced himself to awkwardly clear his throat. 

“Lizzie.”

“Tommy.” She said his name as if speaking the word was like swiping a razor along the inside of her throat. 

Swallowing, he set Ruby down on the floor, bending so that he was at her level. “Ruby, why don’t you take Lucy to the kitchens and show her what Aunt Linda taught you, eh?”

“Yeah! Okay!” She tottered two steps forward to latch eagerly onto Lucy’s hand and begin pulling her along. Lucy shot him a puzzled look, eyes darting between him and Lizzie. Clearly wondering what he intended on saying in her absence. 

Don’t worry, he pushed the thought to her gently. Something clicked behind Lucy’s eyes as she realized what this was all about. She raised an eyebrow, giving him a look.

Don’t be too hard on her.

I won’t. Promise.

She looked only half convinced, but let Ruby tug her away without complaint. Tommy waited until he could no longer hear the clatter of Ruby’s shoes on the floorboards before speaking.  

“Where’s Charlie?”

“In the library, finishing up his homework.” Lizzie took a step towards him. “Tommy, listen–”

“He overheard.”

She froze. “What?”

“He overheard what you said about Lucy to Polly and Linda. And then he got mad, and repeated it to her.”

Her lips parted, eyes widening. A look of mild horror settled on her features, and the sight of it brought Tommy an odd sense of relief. That was confirmation that she hadn’t been purposefully whispering poison into his children’s ears, then.

“Oh…” Lizzie said, throat flexing as she swallowed. “What did he say?” 

“He said that she’s just my whore. That everybody hates her.” The words tasted metallic as he released them, just hearing them again making him momentarily furious with her. But he breathed in deep through his nose and forced himself to remain calm. 

Lizzie looked away, down at the floor. “Shit. I’m sorry, Tommy. He was never meant to hear that.” She shifted from foot to foot, not really meeting his eyes. “At least it wasn’t that bad…”

“Not that bad!? He made Lucy cry!” 

Lizzie said nothing to that, still staring down at her shoes. Tommy shook his head, fishing into his pocket for his cigarettes. 

Wait.

He’d just swiped one across his lips when her words clicked, his face snapping up to bore his eyes into her.

“Fucking hell, what else have you said about her for that to be considered not bad!?”

Lizzie still wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Are things between her and Charlie…?” she trailed off, pointedly not answering his question. 

Tommy studied her a moment more, lighter clicking to raise the flame to his cigarette before answering. “They’re fine. I managed to smooth things over. He was just having a tantrum; he didn’t really mean any of it. And he’s apologized.”

“Good.” The plain relief on Lizzie’s face had him considering her. For all her faults, she had always been understanding and respectful of just how much his children meant to Lucy. 

“You should never have said those things about her.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. “You need to apologize too.”

Her lips pressed together. “I’m sorry that he overheard that, Tommy, really. But…”

“But what?”

“But I’m not sorry for what I said.”  

His fingers tightened around his cigarette. “Why not?”

Her jaw clenched, chin raising. “Because it’s the truth, that’s why. Everybody despises her, Tommy. You don’t hear how they talk about her when they know you’re not listening. She’s nothing but your whore. Your mistress–”

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that–”

“I will talk about her anyway that I fucking please. I’ll do it out of the children’s earshot, but I won’t swallow my opinions just because it might hurt her feelings.”

“She hasn’t even done anything to you!”

“She’s fucking my husband!” Lizzie burst out. “She’s fucking my husband when she knows I’m not alright with it. You may have decided that she can do no wrong, but that doesn’t change the fact that she has chosen, over and over, for years, to hurt me by staying with you. I think that I ought to be allowed to be upset about that, and to say whatever I like about it when in the company of my friends and family.” 

“Lizzie–”

“I have let you two carry on as you have! I’ve let you do that, Tommy! Even though it kills me. I have…tried to be at least cordial with her. I know that I don’t always succeed, and I am sorry for that. And I am sorry that Charlie overheard. I’d never intend to turn the kids against her. But I have feelings, Tommy! I have to get them out somewhere. Better with Polly and Linda, rather than to her face.”

“Doesn’t seem to fucking work though, does it? All the hateful things that you say always get back to her eventually.”

“You know what? Fuck you, Tommy.” He saw some of the ice-cold contempt that had been blazing in her eyes when she left for Arthur’s days ago ignite once more. “I don’t want to hear it,” she started for the door to one of the sitting rooms. 

“Oi! We aren’t fucking finished here,” he moved to follow her, and she rounded on him.

“What more do you want!? I said I’ll fucking apologize! Now leave me the fuck alone! It’s the least you could do.”

“Why the hell did you come back then if you didn’t want to be around us, eh!?”

“Because your daughter kept asking for you,” she sneered furiously. “And I knew that sooner or later, you’d drag us back here anyway to have her close.” She took a step nearer to him. In her heels, she was taller than him, if only by an inch or two. “I didn’t come back because I’m no longer upset. Or because I forgive either of you. I don’t. I never will.”

“Forgive us for what, Lizzie!? For sticking to the agreement that the three of us made which you then decided to change your mind about?”

Her throat convulsed, and for just a moment, her eyes seemed to glimmer tearily. “We could have had an actual chance at being happy,” her voice suddenly dropped to a desolate whisper. “If she wasn’t here.”

He wanted to shake her. How could she not understand? He couldn’t be happy without Lucy.

“If you really believe that, then you don’t know me at all.”

Her bottom lip trembled, cracks beginning to form in the hatred molding to her face, giving way to heartbreak. 

Before he could say anything more, she whirled on her heel and stormed out the door.

∗ ∗ ∗

Lizzie found Lucy sitting alone, head propped up on one hand while she considered the chess board before her. She was playing herself, Lizzie could see. Moving both the black and white pieces around the board. Trouble was curled in her lap, asleep. 

She hadn’t really spoken to Lucy since she and Tommy had arrived home. The kids had monopolized their attention for most of the evening; Ruby in particular was eager to play with Lucy and her father after going so long without seeing them. Lizzie had been fine with leaving them to it. In all honesty, she could use the break after having to manage Ruby mostly on her own. And after their conversation about what Charlie said to Lucy, she would rather have not been in the same room as Tommy anyway. 

He’d retreated into his office to take care of some business after they’d put the kids to bed, leaving her and Lucy to their own devices. 

Taking a tentative step forward, she forced herself to open her mouth. 

“Lucy?”

The redhead looked up, and Lizzie could see the wariness that immediately entered her face upon catching sight of her. It was a look that she saw crossing Lucy’s face more and more whenever they interacted. 

Lizzie supposed she couldn’t entirely blame her for that. 

She gestured to the chess board. “Do you…want someone to play with?”

Lucy blinked, that wariness still not quite leaving her face. “Sure.” She started to move the pieces back into their starting positions on the board while Lizzie took the seat across from her, examining the little carved pieces of black and white wood. Lucy had whittled and painted each one herself, along with the board. 

Once all the pieces were set up, she took hold of one of the white pawns on her side of the board, sliding it forward. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally forced herself to say the words when they were about halfway through the game. Most of her white pieces had been swept from the board by Lucy’s black ones. Not surprising. She had never taken to chess all that well. Usually, Lucy went easy on her. 

She felt Lucy’s large brown eyes jerk upwards to stare into her face. 

“For what Charlie said. I didn’t…he wasn’t supposed to overhear that.”

Lucy looked back down at the board. She had one arm crossed over her chest, hand folded against the opposite bicep. Like she was holding an imaginary shield between them. “I figured.”

Lizzie nodded. At least Lucy’s opinion of her hadn’t sunk that low, then. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lucy kept her eyes focused on the pieces, moving her queen to take one of Lizzie’s bishops. “It worked itself all out. I’m sorry that Tommy got on your case about it.”

“He’s just protecting you.” She hated herself for being unable to wholly mask the bitterness that underlaid her words. A guilty look crossed Lucy’s face, her head dipping slightly and her shoulders drawing in as if bracing for a slap. On her next move, she pulled one of her bishops back, leaving her rook open for Lizzie to take with one of her knights. 

She wondered if Lucy had let her take the piece on purpose. 

“How were things at Arthur’s?” Lucy asked, clearly eager to change the subject. Lizzie hesitated. There were a lot of things that Linda had told her in confidence that she was not eager to share. Everyone knew that anything that was told to Lucy would make its way back to Tommy.

“Things aren’t good between him and Linda,” she finally settled on saying. 

“What’s she upset about now?”

Lizzie worried at her bottom lip. “Everything, really. Truth be told, going there wasn’t much of an improvement from being here.” She should have gone to Polly or Ada’s instead. But she had been afraid that both of them would try to talk her out of any ruminations she had about divorce. Linda, at the very least, had understood her feelings on that front. “Only difference was that I wasn’t the one doing the arguing.”

“Mm.” Lucy made a sound of sympathy, taking one of Lizzie’s knights with her remaining rook. “I am glad that you’re home.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

Lucy cocked her head. “I’m not. Look…I didn’t miss any of the fighting, but…the house feels empty without you and Ruby in it.” 

“We may not be here for very long.”

That wariness that had mostly melted away from Lucy’s face while they played returned. “What do you mean?”

Lizzie plucked up the little white envelope that she had set down in her lap while they played. She turned it over twice in her hands, examining her own looping handwriting of Tommy’s name scrawled in black ink on the back of it. Holding it between two fingers, like she would a cigarette, she held it out to Lucy. 

“Will you give him this for me?”

Lucy eyed the envelope as if Lizzie had just held out a hand grenade to her. She supposed in a way, that she had. She took it with her pale, lightly freckled fingers, handling the envelope gingerly while she examined it. 

“What…?”

“Linda and I talked a lot. We thought that writing down everything that we need to say would be better than actually trying to say it. She’s written one to Arthur. Well…technically I think that she’s written two. She hadn’t decided which one to give to him yet when I left.”

Lucy turned the envelope over in her hands, brows furrowed. “Lizzie, what’s in this letter?”

 She picked up one of the black rooks she’d taken, rolling it between her fingers. “Just make sure that he gets it, yeah?”

She could feel Lucy’s deep brown gaze on her, could imagine the way that the irises shifted a little from side to side as they tried to decipher what was going on inside her head. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Lucy nodded, slipping the envelope into the inner pocket of her suit jacket. Lizzie brought her bishop sliding across the board.

“Check.”

“I can send him to you tonight, if you’d like,” Lucy offered. Lizzie could only bring herself to look at her face for a fraction of a second before she had to look back at the chess pieces again. Anything to not have to stare at that sad, guilty look emblazoned across Lucy’s face. She shook her head. 

“I doubt he’s going to want to spend the night with me after he reads what’s in that letter.” 

Truth be told, a lot of the enjoyment from sleeping with Tommy had long since faded away. Physically, it was still good–the man was nothing if not very talented at what he did–but it was hard to ever fully enjoy herself when she knew that he would rather be with her. Lizzie could feel it, the disconnect between them a living, ever present thing in the spaces between them. Even when he was with her, in the most intimate of positions two people could be in, he wasn’t really with her. He always left all the important parts of himself in the other room, with Lucy.  

If only the little red head in front of her wasn’t around…

She shook the thought away. That wasn’t what she wanted. Not really. For all her faults, at least Lucy tried. Certainly more than Tommy ever did. It was her, who more often than not kept Lizzie company on nights like this one. When Tommy was too enthralled with his work to be bothered to pay her any mind.

In a way, it only made Lizzie more angry with her. It would have been so much easier to hate her if she had been cruel and unapologetic in her actions. 

For a time, at the beginning of her marriage to Tommy, Lizzie had hated her. She had hated her so bloody much, she nearly choked on it. But over time the feeling had…not quite faded, but scabbed over. It was hard to maintain hatred like that for so long. Especially when the person it was directed towards went out of her way to be so bloody nice and accommodating so much of the time. 

Sometimes it still returned, the scab ripping off for fresh blood and agony to flow forth. And with it, the poison inside her leaked out, boiling over to spill from her lips in the form of vile curses and words. Things she may have meant in the moment, but not later. Not after she’d gotten a leash back on the jealousy that raged in her heart. 

In those moments when the venom flowed forth, the looks that Lucy would give her, like that of a kicked animal, only served to make Lizzie hate her even more. Because how dare she make her feel guilty for hurting her? When she was the one who had hurt Lizzie first by stealing her husband. 

But can you really steal what was already yours? What was given freely? How could she say that Lucy had stolen Tommy from her, when he had never even been hers to begin with?

Her fury was directed at Tommy too, often even more so. She suspected that was by design, on his part. His attempt to shield Lucy from her wrath and the hurtful jabs that came with it as much as possible. Yet another expression of his oh so precious, undying love for her.  

Once she’d gotten it all out, the anger and resentment would scab over once more. It was in those moments that she grew as close as she could to accepting the arrangement between herself, her husband, and his lover. She and Lucy could even be considered something close to being friends.

And then they’d go through the entire cycle again. 

She wondered if the scab would ever fully heal. She hoped that someday it would.

What she would give, to be at peace with her life and her choices. To be content.

But she knew that a part of her, no matter how small, would always resent Lucy.   

“Do you mind if I also read it?” Lucy asked, drawing her from her thoughts. She’d moved her knight to counter Lizzie’s check on the chessboard. 

“That’s fine.” She knew it would likely make no difference what she wanted; Tommy would tell her its contents either way.

She moved one of her pawns a space up. 

Lucy moved her knight again. “Check.”

Lizzie moved her king, even though she could already see where the game was heading.

“You’re really thinking of leaving for good?”

She kept her gaze fixed on the chessboard, not wanting to meet Lucy’s analyzing eyes. “It depends on what he says about what’s in my letter.” 

There was a long pause, and she found herself wishing that Lucy would just move her queen and put an end to the whole bloody game.

“Lizzie, maybe if you just give things some time…it’s a madhouse right now, with the crash and Michael coming back…”

“I’ve been giving things time since the fucking wedding, Lucy. And he still hasn’t–” she bit down hard on the words before she could say them. He still hasn’t changed.

Lucy stared at her sadly. “You’re still hoping that someday he’ll choose you over me?”

“Just play your bloody turn, Lucy.”

She hesitated, and then slid the black queen across the board. “Checkmate.” Her hand retracted, going to fidget with the other in her lap. Trouble roused at the cease in being pet, raising her head with a questioning meow. “Do you want to play again?”

“No,” Lizzie rose from her chair. Divorce or not, she doubted she would have to wait long to be free of them. She had watched these past few years as Tommy slipped further and further out onto a precipice, his mind almost fully lost to his own ambition. And when he finally went over the edge, he’d take Lucy right along with him. She truly believed that he wouldn’t be alive within two years’ time.  

It startled her, a little, how the thought brought with it no sorrow or grief, but simply a feeling of deep, potent relief.  

“I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

That infuriating guilt was shining in Lucy’s eyes again. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from lashing out at the sight of it. Despite everything, she had meant what she said to Tommy about trying to be cordial with Lucy. 

 “Lizzie, you know that if you ever wanted to, the three of us could…” Lucy trailed off, biting her lip. Not needing to finish the sentence for Lizzie to know what she was referring to. 

They’d made it clear that the offer was always open, if she wanted to share a bed with both of them again, rather than just Tommy. And she understood that, in a somewhat stunted way, Lucy’s offer was an attempt at comfort; at maybe even consolidation, for the situation that they’d found themselves in.  

“Not tonight, Lucy.”

She saw a flicker of disappointment cross Lucy’s features, but she merely nodded, clearly having expected the answer, not pushing it any further. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

She just got to the door before Lucy called for her again. “Lizzie.” She was still sitting at the chessboard, one hand trailing her fingertips across the golden rings she was wearing on the other hand she had resting on Trouble’s patchy black and orange fur. Her red-painted bottom lip was caught between her teeth. “Is there anything that I can do?”

Yes: Leave. And never come back. “No.” 

“But maybe–”

“Lucy,” she cut her off before she could say anymore, gesturing to the board. “Even when you go easy on me, it’s you who always wins.”

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[justagalwhowrites]

Wonderland

You and Joel get away for your first wedding anniversary.

A canon Lavender No Outbreak AU one shot inspired by a request for a fic based on the song "Your Body is a Wonderland." Can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that Joel and Reader have been together for years and are married with a daughter. You can find the original Lavender here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from the Lavender No Outbreak AU (AKA Joel and Doc)

Length: 6.9k

Warnings: Smut :D! Oral sex; unprotected P in V sex; reader is described as being post-pregnancy and having a different body as a result but no broader description of her body beyond the fact that she has hair; age gap (reader is late 20s, Joel is late 30s.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

January 2005

“Baby.” 

Joel’s hand found the small of your back but you didn’t look back at him. You stayed focused on the child in your arms, on her brown eyes and dark curls and skin so soft all you wanted to do was nuzzle into her and breathe in her sweet, baby scent. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” your husband pressed a kiss - gentle and slow - to your temple. “We’re only gonna be a few hours away…” 

“I know,” you said softly. Evie made a breathy little baby sound and you smiled. Couldn’t help it. 

“Tommy’s watched a baby before,” Joel continued as you swayed with your daughter. His hand shifted so it was below your shirt and on the bare skin of your lower back. “And Sarah will be here, too. And it’s just for two nights.” 

“But she’s never been apart from me,” you said softly, tears pinching at the back of your throat as you brushed her hair away from her little forehead. “What if she’s afraid? She’s going to look for me, she always looks for me right when she wakes up and I won’t be here and what if she can’t calm down and she doesn’t keep food down when she isn’t calm and…” 

“Hey,” he said, taking your chin delicately in his fingers and turned your head to face him. He smiled gently, his brown eyes soft and crinkling at the edges. “I promise, it’s gonna be OK. We can be back here real quick if something goes wrong and she’s with family. It’s OK.” 

You looked back at your baby girl. She wasn’t even a year old yet, it seemed too soon to be going away for a weekend, no matter how much you really wanted to. 

One of the downsides to getting married just a few months before having a baby was that you didn’t get much time to enjoy married life before it became all about the new life you’d brought into the world. 

Of course, Sarah had always been top priority for both you and Joel but, since she was a teenager, you could rely on her to look out for herself some so the two of you could get quality time. Before Evie was born, you and Joel regularly went out just the two of you. You could leave Sarah at home with cash for a pizza or she’d go to sleep over at her friend Lizzie’s place and you and your husband could go and make out at the back of a movie theater like teenagers.

A baby was a whole other story. 

You’d always loved children, loved spending time with them and seeing how they experienced everything, all of it brand new in their eyes. It was a joy to watch them discover themselves and the world and you adored hearing their thoughts as they puzzled through everything from basic societal rules to trying to figure out if there was a meaning to life. But you hadn’t been prepared for just how attached you’d be to your own child, who was both so much larger than she’d been when you’d given birth to her but still so impossibly small and fragile that even having her in another room made you anxious. It took months longer than it really should have for her to consistently sleep through the night because you kept checking on her, ensuring that she was still breathing and lying in the position that was supposed to be safest and that she didn’t seem bothered by dreams or colic. 

Being a few hours away was terrifying. 

But it was your first wedding anniversary with Joel and you really wanted it to be special. Wanted time just the two of you that you hadn’t had in the months since your daughter had been born. You missed being able to spend hours and hours with nothing in the world besides you and your husband. 

You just needed space from the baby to get that. 

So Joel had booked the hotel you went to for your wedding night the weekend of your anniversary and gotten Tommy to agree to stay at the house with Evie and Sarah for the two nights you’d be gone. You’d overheard him talking with his brother about it a month earlier, when Tommy was over for dinner and you’d gotten up to change Evie. 

“I’ll leave good instructions but you can’t be callin’ all the time,” Joel was saying as you made it to the living room, Evie squirming in your arms. “She’s gonna be a nervous wreck, rather just stay here if…” 

“Joel,” Tommy said, voice soothing. “I got your girls, it’s alright. Handled Sarah when she was that age, right?” 

“You’re why I can’t do exponents,” Sarah said dryly. “Dropped me on my head a few too many times…” 

“Someone needed to reel you in,” Tommy replied and you could hear the teasing wink in his voice. “Can’t have you being too smart now.”

“Mean it,” Joel said, tone serious. “Need you to actually do this…” 

“Joel,” he replied. “I got her. It’s alright.” 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Tommy. You did. You just didn’t know how to be this far away from your daughter, knowing how vulnerable she was and how much she needed you for everything. 

But you needed time for you and your husband, too. You were so dangerously close to getting lost in your identity as a mother, already struggling to remember just what you were before Evie existed. You needed a weekend away. Some distance would be good, for the both of you. 

“Come on, Mama,” Tommy smiled, holding his arms out. “Gimme that one and you two love birds get on the road. I promise if something goes wrong, I’ll call.” 

“But you won’t need to,” Joel said, raising his eyebrows at his brother. “Right?” 

“Course not,” Tommy waved him off. “We’re gonna have the best time, Uncle Tommy is going to be her favorite person, just you wait.” 

You sighed and nodded, pressing your lips to Evie’s soft little forehead and breathing in her sweet baby smell before passing her off to Tommy’s waiting arms. He pulled her into his chest and smiled, wide and open mouthed, making a happy coo. She cooed back, reaching her tiny hands up toward his face. 

“I know,” he said, voice high and childish. “I’m so much better lookin’ than your daddy! Yes I am! And so are you!” 

“Be a good girl,” you said as Evie totally ignored you in favor of her uncle. “Love you so much, big sister will be home soon and…” 

“Kid,” Tommy looked up from your daughter in his arms to meet your eyes. “I’ve got this. Go have fun.”

“Thanks again, Tommy,” Joel said. 

“But…” you began but Joel just shook his head and looped an arm around your waist, tugging you to his side and guiding you to his waiting truck. 

“You grabbed the bags?” You looked up at Joel and he smiled a little.

“Sure did.”

“And Tommy has the number for the hotel in case we don’t have signal?” 

“The hotel and the restaurant we have reservations at tomorrow and even the diner next door with the good waffles since I figure we’ll end up there at least once.”

“And…” 

“Baby,” he cut you off, opening the passenger door of the truck for you. “It’s going to be fine. There’s a stash of your favorite snacks in the truck and if you just get in the truck, we can go.”

You looked back at the house, biting your lower lip and twisting your fingers around on themselves. 

“OK,” you said, climbing in the front seat. Joel smiled, leaning in to kiss you before jogging around to the driver’s side door. 

The drive felt longer than it was, you seemingly hyper aware of every mile you were further away from your baby. But there was something invigorating about it, too. You had your husband all to yourself for the first time in almost a year. You’d had a few date nights, of course, and the two of you made a conscious effort to spend quality time together, even if it was just watching late night TV in Joel’s arms while Evie slept in her bassinet a few feet away. 

But this? Two nights with no obligation to anyone but each other? It seemed like the purest form of indulgence. 

“How we doin’ over there?” Joel asked about halfway into the drive. 

“Good,” you smiled. “The snacks have helped.” 

“I know my wife,” he smiled back. “Lookin’ forward to getting to know her a bit better the next few days…” 

Your cheeks got hot as Joel’s hand found your knee, gently trailing his fingers over your inner thigh. 

“Is there anything you want to do when we’re in Galveston?” You asked, suddenly feeling oddly self conscious. It had been so long since you’d last had this much time just you and Joel, what if things were different now? 

“Mostly?” He asked, brow cockily raised. “Spend time with you where no one else can get to ya. If there’s something you want to do we can but if it’s up to me, we’re stayin’ in that room.” 

“Joel!” You gaped at him, trying not to laugh. 

“What?” He glanced over at you, smiling a little. “I’m selfish. Don’t wanna share the best thing that’s ever happened to me with anyone else on our anniversary.” 

Joel pulled up to the hotel and parked under the overhang by the door, squeezing your knee as he turned off the truck. 

“You stay put just a second.” 

“OK,” you laughed, watching as he got out of the truck and jogged around the front of it to open the door for you, offering you his hand to help you down. You laughed again. “My my, so attentive.” 

“Least I can do,” he winked, giving your fingers a squeeze as you got out of the truck. 

He wouldn’t let you carry any bags besides your purse, either. When you tried to go with him to the front desk, he put a hand on your lower back and nodded to the lounge across the lobby. 

“Why don’t you go there,” he said. “Get yourself one of those flowery cocktails you like so much.” 

He steered you in that direction before you really had a chance to argue, so you went and took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink you’d never heard of but there was honey and lavender syrup in it so you figured it’d be good. You sat there sipping your cocktail, listening to the pianist in the corner and watching your husband in line at the check in counter, just admiring the shape of him. He was so tall and broad, his shoulders pulling a bit at his flannel shirt, and he was probably three weeks past when he usually liked having his hair trimmed but you’d been so busy with Evie’s first Christmas and everything that came after you hadn’t had a chance to cut it. 

But you liked him a little on the shaggy side. You smiled a little at the thought of running your fingers through his curls while kissing him and feeling him deep inside of you. 

The pianist changed to a new song and you fished your phone out of your bag, flipping it open and texting Sarah. 

Made it! How’s it going? 

Mercifully, Sarah responded quickly. 

Good! Tommy hasn’t dropped her yet.

You laughed a little. 

I’ll take it. She eating? How was school today?

Yup! Some baby food chicken and peaches. Tummy time now. And school was fine. All is OK Mom.

“In town for business or pleasure?” 

You looked up from your phone and flipped it shut to find a man in khakis and a button down leaning against the bar next to you. 

“Oh,” you almost jumped at his proximity as he looked you up and down. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” he smiled. His hair was blond and his eyes were blue and he looked a little bit like a Ken doll. Definitely not your type. “Can’t remember the last time I saw someone as pretty as you drinking alone at a hotel bar.” 

“Oh,” you said again. “Um…” 

“So I think you must be in town on business,” the man continued as though you hadn’t said anything. You tried to peer around him to see where Joel was in line but he followed you, cutting off your view. “No way you’d be here by yourself otherwise.” 

“Well, I’m here on vacation,” you said, fidgeting in your plush high top chair. “And my…” 

“Must be here with friends then,” he smiled. “Girls’ weekend?” 

“Well, no,” you laughed a little. “Actually…” 

“I know you can’t be here with a boyfriend,” he said. “If you were my girl, I’d never let you out of my sight…” 

“She’s here with her husband, actually,” Joel said from behind the man, who stood up straighter and turned, slowly, to find your husband at his back. Joel smiled. “Hi. Appreciate you keepin’ my wife company while I got us all checked in but, if you’ll excuse me, you’re in my way.” 

“Sorry, man,” he shoved himself up off the bar. “Didn’t know she was spoken for.” 

He trudged off to the other side of the lounge and you watched him go, making sure you didn’t audibly laugh until he was out of ear shot. 

“Oh my God,” you half laughed, half whispered to Joel. 

“I know,” he kissed your temple and laughed into your hair. “Leave you unattended for half a minute and got guys tryin’ to steal you out from under me.” 

“No accounting for taste in hotel bars, apparently,” you teased, going to polish off your cocktail but Joel put one of his large hands on your arm. 

“Take your time,” he said, taking the seat next to you. “Wouldn’t mind a beer after that drive. They’re gonna put the bags in the room, anyhow.” 

“Oh,” you gasped in faux shock. “So fancy!” 

“Only the fanciest for Mrs. Miller,” he kissed your cheek as you giggled. 

The two of you had some drinks and you were pleasantly tipsy for the first time in almost two years, only a glass of wine here and there since Evie was born and you were nursing. She’d only weaned about a month ago but you’d been too busy to indulge. Joel put an arm around your waist and guided you to the elevator and you draped yourself over him, giddily kissing him as you held yourself against him. 

“So,” he said between kisses. “Been thinkin’.” 

“Have you now?” You smiled against his lips. 

“There is something we could do to keep random men from tryin’ to pick you up the second you’re out of my sight,” he smiled back as the elevator dinged. 

“Really?” 

He turned you around and pointed you at the doors and kissed the side of your head before nudging you forward. 

“Room 1023,” he said. “And yeah, think there’s somethin’ that’s pretty easy to arrange.” 

“And what’s that?” You asked as he steered you down the hall toward the end of the building that faced the gulf. He pulled a room key card out of his pocket and swiped it at the door, opening it for you. 

“Well,” he said, nudging you into the room. “Bet they’d leave you alone If you had ring.” 

“I have my wedding band,” you frowned down at your hand and the simple white gold ring that matched Joel’s. “I like my wedding band.” 

“I know,” he said, closing the door behind him. “But thought you could use something with a little shine.” 

You made it all the way into the room and gasped, a bottle of champagne on ice, chocolate covered strawberries and a bouquet of roses waiting for you near the door leading to the balcony. 

“Joel!” You gasped, your hands flying to cover your mouth. “What….” 

You looked back over your shoulder to see him down on one knee, a little box open in his hand. 

“Joel!” You yelped it this time. 

“Never did ask you properly,” he smiled a little. “Figured I was overdue. Especially since you’ve given me the entire world, only fair that I get on my knees to ask you to do me the honor of continuing to be my wife for as long as we both shall live.” 

“Of course I will!” You dropped to your knees next to him and kissed him, pressing yourself against him. 

He more beamed than smiled against your lips and pulled the ring - a diamond-encrusted band  with no center stone, the gems making an almost floral pattern all around your finger as he slid it into place. 

“If you don’t like it, we can pick somethin’ else,” he said as you gaped at the ring. “Thought this was more your style and would be out of the way with the girls and then medical school…”

“It’s perfect,” you whispered, the stones reminding you of the flowering vines you painted on picture frames and table legs. You sat down fully in the floor and tore your eyes away from the ring to look at Joel. “But… I mean, can we afford this? I love it, I really really do, but…” 

“I had some money set aside for it,” he sat down next to you. “Wasn’t joking when I said I should’ve asked you years ago. I’d been saving up for a ring for a bit but then…” 

You looked back at your hand and just nodded, not wanting to think about the few weeks the two of you had broken up because Joel thought he was holding you back. 

Then your eyes went wide, looking back at Joel. 

“But I didn’t get you anything! We said the trip was our gift to ourselves and…” 

He laughed. 

“Didn’t want you stressin’ about it, Baby,” he said. “Now, why don’t we go get some dinner without worrying about the kids waiting for us at home?” 

You got changed into a dress that had been a little big before Evie and now was a little snug and hoped that it didn’t look too noticeable once you put a cardigan over it. But Joel didn’t seem to mind, looking at you with warm, soft eyes as he sat across from you at the restaurant. He put his hand on the table, fingers reaching for you, and you put yours in his. He smiled bigger when you did and gave your hand a squeeze. 

By the time you headed back to the room, you were having a hard time not ripping his clothes off in the elevator, his arms around you, holding you tight against his front as you kissed him deeply, his cock hardening against your stomach. 

When you got to the room, you dropped your purse on the dresser and tugged off the cardigan before going to turn out the lights but Joel caught your wrist, running his thumb over your pulse point. You frowned. 

“Joel…” 

“Was thinkin’,” he said, tugging you close to him. “If you wanted to give me something…” 

“I do,” you said, a little breathless as he trailed kisses over your forehead. 

“You don’t have to,” he said, his lips still against your skin. “I don’t want to make you feel obligated or uncomfortable but…” 

He trailed off, working his way down your jaw to your throat, your shoulder, until he lifted your wrist to his lips and kissed you there, too. 

“I’d like it if we left the lights on.” 

You frowned a little, looking up at him. 

“Really?” You asked. “That… I don’t know…” 

“Miss seeing you,” he said quietly, kissing your wrist again. 

“It’s different now,” you said, chewing on your lower lip. “I don’t look how I used to look…” 

Before becoming a mom, you’d never really been shy about your body with Joel. He made it very clear that he thought you were the most beautiful, most sexy woman on the planet. You might have questioned his judgement but you never doubted that he felt that way. But things were different after having a baby. There was just more of you now. You were hyper-aware of it, the fact that - even almost a year after giving birth - you weren’t anywhere near wearing your pre-pregnancy jeans and that, the more of you there was wasn’t exactly sculpted and smooth. You weren’t stupid, you saw the kind of woman who was on magazine covers and in movies, the kind of woman men liked. You’d never been further from that kind of woman than you had been in the last year. 

The last time you remembered being naked in front of Joel where he could actually see you was just after Evie was born, when he helped you in the shower while you recovered. It wasn’t like you’d been trying to turn him on then and that had felt strange enough, your husband’s hands on a body you didn’t fully recognize as your own. 

Ever since, you always put on a robe as soon as you were out of the shower. You’d stopped styling your hair and doing your makeup naked, even at the height of summer. And, while you and Joel had found a good groove with your sex life even with a baby at home, you always turned off the lights before you started undressing. 

“I know,” he shrugged. “I don’t, either. Didn’t have quite this much of a belly when I first conned you into bed with me…” 

You scoffed but smiled a little. 

“I like your belly.” 

“And I like your whole body,” he said, his hand going from your wrist to trace over your arm to the curve of your breast, down to your waist. “Love it, actually. Every damn inch of it.” 

You crinkled your nose at that. 

“But I have stretch marks,” you said. “And…” 

“Baby,” he smiled gently. “You’re my wife. Most beautiful damn woman on Earth. I love lookin’ at you. Loved it when we first got together, love it now. Hell, if I had my way, all I’d do would be look at you and our girls.” 

“Really?” You asked, brows raised. “Even right now?” 

“Especially right now,” he nuzzled against you before kissing you gently. “I know you don’t look like you did when you were 21 but I fuckin’ love that. Your body got you through college and helped raise Sarah and grew our baby girl. I want nothing more than to be able to really look at you, especially while I’m inside you.” 

“And that’s what you want for our anniversary?” You asked. “Just… me with the lights on?” 

“More than anything.” 

You took a deep, shaky breath. 

“Well, let’s pop that champagne because I think I need some liquid courage,” you said. “But OK.” 

Joel kissed you, gentle and deep, before opening the wine and pouring you each a glass. 

“To the most amazing wife anyone could ask for,” he said, tipping his flute to you. You touched the edge of yours to his with a quiet clink. 

“And to the most perfect husband.” 

You drank two glasses of champagne and ate a strawberry before you put your glass down on the table and took a deep breath, standing in front of your husband and feeling almost like you did the first time you got undressed in front of him. 

“Promise if I’m not what you want, it’s lights out?” You asked, stomach tight and heart pounding. 

“Oh, Baby,” he gently brushed your hair back before cupping your cheek in his large hand. “There’s no world where you’re not what I want. You’re exactly what I want. Promise.”

You swallowed hard and nodded, holding  his gaze as you reached for the zipper at the side of your dress, tugging it down slowly. 

Joel’s hand traced down your throat to the strap of your dress, slipping it down your arm until it hung near your elbow. He did the same with the other side before delicately tilting your chin to kiss you. His lips were soft and gentle, not desperate for you so much as savoring you. You moaned into his mouth and his lips grew firmer against you as he nudged you back toward the bed. You shrugged out of the straps entirely, your dress only held up by the fact that you were pressed tightly against Joel. He pulled his lips from yours just enough that you could look in his eyes. 

“I’ve got you, Baby,” he said softly. “Promise.” 

*** 

Where the hell you’d gotten it in your head that he wouldn’t want to see you, Joel had no idea. 

He couldn’t imagine something more ludicrous. All he wanted to do was look at you. If he could buy a ticket to sit and just look at you all day, he would. 

But you hadn’t let him in months and fuck, he missed seeing your body. 

It took Joel weeks to even figure out what was happening. Immediately after Evie was born, everything was exhausting and hectic. You needed rest, Evie needed constant care, Sarah needed to keep on top of her school work and extra curriculars, Joel could only take so much time off work. Sex hadn’t been on his mind at all, he only wanted to take care of his daughters and the woman who has given him everything he could ever need. He didn’t notice the small changes that happened alongside the huge ones. 

But as the two of you started to come back into yourselves as individuals and a couple - instead of just Mom and Dad - Joel started to notice a difference. 

You never got changed in the bedroom anymore. At least, not when Joel was there. You always went into the closet or the bathroom. The closest you’d come was tugging on your pants under your robe and putting on your shirt with your back to him. You always put at least one of his shirts on after sex, never sleeping naked in his arms anymore. 

And then he started noticing that you always turned out the lights before sex. 

You did such a good job of making it seem romantic or flirty, he was worried, for a moment, that it was because of him. If you weren’t really attracted to him anymore. But he caught you watching him with a hungry look in your eyes as he looked for a clean pair of boxers when he got out of the shower one day after work. Evie had been napping and Sarah was out with a friend and Joel practically pounced you. 

“You just got all cleaned up!” You laughed as he kissed along your throat. “You’ll get all sweaty…” 

“Sounds great to me,” he growled before nipping at your neck. 

“Here,” you pulled back from him. “Got a better idea.” 

You nudged him down onto his back and you took him into your mouth, licking and sucking him until he came down your throat with a desperate groan. 

“See?” You panted, wiping your chin clean. “Better.” 

While it certainly wasn’t bad, it definitely wasn’t better. Joel didn’t want to just get off. He wanted you. He wanted the rest of the world to fall away, to feel you everywhere, to watch you come apart while he was deep inside of you. You sucking him off was fun but it wasn’t what he craved, what he really needed. 

Once he pieced it together, he wasn’t even sure how to bring it up. What was he supposed to do, look at you and go “Hey, Baby, I’ve noticed you haven’t let me gawk at you like some stupid fucking teenager lately. Think we can make that happen?” 

He hadn’t even intended to bring it up this weekend. He’d kind of hoped that if he could make you feel special, that if he could give you some evidence of how much he adored you, you’d just… forget to turn off the lights one night. 

But then he was a few beers deep and looking at you from across the table, your dress tight across your breasts and eyes all but glowing in the candlelight and he couldn’t help himself. He needed you. He needed you to overwhelm all his senses, he needed to be able to worship at the altar of your sex. He needed to see you. 

But you looked so nervous - as though there was a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d look at you and not want you - it made his heart ache. 

“I’ve got you, Baby. Promise.”

You just nodded and Joel took the sides of your dress and pulled back enough from you that it fell away from your breasts, the soft flesh pressed high in your strapless bra. He tugged the dress over your stomach and hips until it fluttered to the floor around your feet and you looked at him through your eyelashes, your breaths coming quick and shallow. 

You were so much more beautiful than he remembered. 

The swell of your breasts, the soft curve of your stomach, the plushness of your thighs. He wanted to touch and taste and sink into all of you, every inch. 

“Oh, Baby,” he breathed, not able to take his eyes off you. “You are fucking gorgeous.” 

“Really?” Your voice was quiet, doubtful. He managed to pull his gaze from your body to look in your eyes. 

“Really,” he said. “Most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You still looked uncertain. 

“Here,” he said, nudging you down onto the bed. “Let me show you.” 

He unhooked your bra and delicately removed it before pressing gently on your shoulders so you were lying back. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt before he pulled it over his head and cast it aside. He desperately wanted to feel your skin, fabric was just going to be in the way. You watched as he crawled up the bed beside you, his hand skimming over the softness of your stomach to your chest. He cupped your breast, cradling the warm, plush weight in his large palm before he thumbed gently at your nipple, the flesh peaking and pebbling under his touch. You groaned and squirmed a little, your thighs pressing tight together as your eyes closed, face sharply focused and he smiled a little. Fuck, he’d missed this. 

“Love how full you are here after nursing our baby,” he said, taking that firm little nipple in his mouth and sucking you gently as he held your breast, making your back arch. “So damn sexy, knowing I can make you feel good like this…” 

He moved to the other side, giving you the same treatment there, too, looking up at your face as you whimpered and moaned beneath him. 

After a while, he reluctantly moved down your body, trailing his lips over your breastbone to your stomach, his hands at your waist. 

“Love how soft you are here,” he said. “Love that you’ve grown and changed with me and our family.” 

He kissed slowly down your stomach, pausing at the top of your panties to tug them down, you lifting your hips from the bed to help. He dropped them to the floor and traced a finger over your glistening slit, making you gasp. 

“Love how warm and wet you are for me,” he said, thumb circling your clit. “That it seems like you want me almost as much as I want you…” 

“I do,” you were panting below him. “I want you, I want you so bad…” 

“Good,” he said, leaning down and giving your slit a gentle, almost teasing lick. “Because I’m gonna make you come for me. Gonna make you feel so good, Baby. Gonna make you see just how much I want you.” 

He sucked your clit into his mouth and you gasped, your back arching and your fingers knotting in the bedspread and he couldn’t help but smile against you as he looked over your body to how your head was pressing back into the mattress. 

Joel released you and ran is nose over your slit, pressing between your lower lips to nestle against your clit as his tongue dipped ever so slightly into your dripping core. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, trembling, body tense. “Fuck, Joel, I…” 

He slipped his tongue into your tight, wet heat and you gasped, back arching as you ground your hips down against his face. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as he ate at your sweet, tight little pussy. One hand stretched up to your stomach, spreading wide over your impossibly soft skin, the other sinking into the flesh of your thigh to pull the supple warmth of you against his cheek. 

Joel could feel you starting to tighten and tense around his tongue, your wetness dripping down his chin, and he was so fucking hard in his pants that he was rutting down against the bed. The taste of you, the heat, the musky sweet smell, the sight of you as you arched into him. He released your leg and thrust a finger into you alongside his tongue, pressing into the tender, deep parts of you he knew so well and you came with a choking little sob, your channel fluttering over him. He worked you through it, his touch easing as your orgasm did, until he slid himself from you as you lay, limp and gasping below him. He quickly removed his pants and underwear before kissing up your body, leaving a trail of your slick on your skin. When he reached your lips, he kissed you there, too, desperate and deep and you moaned into his mouth as his tongue slipped into yours. 

“See?” He said softly as he gently traced your hairline at your forehead, your eyes wide and pupils blown. “You even taste fuckin’ amazing, Baby. Not a damn thing about you I’d change. Except maybe that you could see yourself how I see you.” 

“Joel,” you whispered in that way you did when you were blissed out and couldn’t remember much outside of his name. He smiled a little and gently kissed your lips. 

“It OK if I keep makin’ you feel good, Baby?” He asked, pressing slow, deep kisses to your cheeks and jaw between the words. “You have no idea how bad I need to be inside you.” 

“Please,” you breathed. “I need you, I need you so bad…” 

He slowly reached between your bodies and traced your sex, making you gasp, and dipped two fingers just inside your entrance, gathering your slick and bringing it to his cock. He spread his precome and your wetness over himself, moaning a little at the feel of both of you together on his skin. 

“Here,” he said, pushing back from you so there was enough space between your bodies that you could look down and see where he was working his length. “Look, Baby.” You lifted your head just enough to obey and he looked down your body, too, as he brushed his thick head against your clit before he started to sink into you. “Look how good you take me with this gorgeous fucking body of yours. It’s like you were made for me, just to drive me wild…” 

“I was,” you whimpered, still looking down where he was entering you. “I was made for you, nothing feels as good as you, nothing…” 

“Love seeing how you take me,” he said as he stopped half inside you, thrusting shallowly in and out of you, the ridges inside your tight channel catching on his head. “Love seeing you like this, all bare and hot and wet for me.” 

He sank all the way into you then and you moaned at the feeling of him stretching you, your pussy holding him so close and tight. 

As he looked down at you, he couldn’t understand how anyone - even yourself - could look at you and see anything but perfection. Your body was paradise, wonderland, heaven incarnate. He longed to hold and kiss and memorize every inch, wanted to spend the rest of his life doing nothing but worship you and everything you’d given him. 

Joel thrust slow and deep and hard a few times that way, where he could see him disappearing into you, your fingers digging into his biceps as you moaned and panted below him. But he wanted to see your face and feel your skin even more than he wanted to drink in your body. He pressed himself deep and lowered himself onto you so he could feel your skin everywhere on his. Your eyes latched onto his, your gaze looking almost as desperate as he felt and he worked his cock impossibly deeper into you, making your back arch up into him. You rocked your hips against him as you pulled him closer, your pussy already getting tight over him. You were so beautiful like this, all needy and so full of pleasure it looked like you might burst with it. 

“Fuck, Baby, think you can give me another one?” He asked, breathless, as he set an aching rhythm inside of you. “Want to feel you come while I’m inside you, want to make you come.” 

You just nodded, a little frantic, your hips working back against his, your channel getting even tighter around him, making him moan. 

“Fuck, don’t think I’m gonna last,” he dropped his lips to your throat, kissing and sucking the soft skin there. “You feel too good, Baby, not gonna make it inside you…”

“Joel,” you whimpered. “Please…” 

“Together,” he said, lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hand to the mattress over your head. “Want to come together, Baby, love you so much, want to come with you. You just tell me when you’re gonna come and then let go for me, just let go for me.” 

He adjusted his angle ever so slightly, his cock harder than he could remember it being anytime in the recent past, and he ground himself down inside of you, his hips pressed against your clit as he worked you from the inside. His head barely left the place deep within you that made your toes curl and your back arch, just giving enough room when he pulled back for each stroke to feel more intense than the last. Just when he felt like your channel couldn’t get any tighter, your fingers gripped his skin so hard he knew it would leave marks but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“I’m gonna come, Joel,” you sounded so desperate. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna…” 

Your orgasm took hold and your pussy throbbed and pulled around him, pulling his own release from him in hard, thick ropes as he emptied himself into your dripping heat. 

“Fuck, Baby,” he pressed his mouth into your shoulder to muffle his moans as he held his cock so deep inside you it almost hurt with the intensity of it. “Fuck, you’re doing so good, Baby. Let it all go for me, just keep… keep milking my cock, just like that, doing so fucking good…” 

You moaned, clinging to him as you came undone, this orgasm stronger than Joel remembered feeling from you in months. Eventually, you went limp below him and he collapsed, half on top of you, half beside you. You trailed your fingers through his hair and down his back and he could feel the thick, heavy thrum of your pulse from inside of you. 

He wasn’t sure quite how long the two of you lay like that before he adjusted, bringing you with him so his softening cock was still held within you, making it so you were facing each other on your sides. 

“Missed seeing you like this so much,” he said softly, brushing your hair back from your face. 

“I missed it, too,” you whispered back, biting your lip for a moment. He frowned. 

“You OK Baby?” 

“Oh I’m great,” you smiled gently. “I guess I just… I feel a little silly for worrying about that now.” 

He tugged you closer to kiss your forehead, breathing in the lavender scent of you as he did. 

“We’re going to be together forever,” he said. “Forever’s a long time. There’s gonna be a lot that we see change but you better believe that I will always be crazy about you and this beautiful body of yours. Hell, every time you look at me I feel like the luckiest man alive because you’ll even breathe in my direction, never mind be with me. I’m always gonna want you, Baby. Can’t be helped.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Don’t think it’s silly for us to come all this way just to never leave the hotel room, do you?” You asked. “Because I’m not sure I want to go anywhere tomorrow.” 

He smiled back. 

“Sounds like the perfect day to me, Baby. Any day is a perfect day if I get to spend it with you.” 

A/N: Thank you for reading and for still being here for Joel and Doc months after their main story wrapped.

Love you!

[bluginkgo]

Another Nuzi rant. Don't mind me

Spoilers, duh

Since I've already done a quick character study/nuzi rant from N's side. Here's one from Uzi's side!

This is probably gonna be just me repeating things people have already said... again. But I love Uzi. (Just like every other character in Murder Drones, honestly.) But Liam did a wonderful job of making an angsty, emo girl, borderline maniac that we know as Uzi. Her character, to me at least, never became the annoying overdramatized and overused stereotype that follows her style. She has real reasons for being the way she is.

A loner, whose dad loves nothing but doors. School is not different, as her classmates pretty much forget about her existence on a day to day basis. No one to talk to, no one to connect with, gives her the angsty side that I absolutely adore. Because underneath all of that toughness is just a lonely little drone who was left by herself since early age. But guess who comes in and busts down those walls (literally and figuratively)?

Our good boi N! Despite their rough start, N never really gave Uzi a reason not to trust him. Their chance encounter, and a broken sensor, allowed them to have the talk that might have never happened. Their beginning might have been a lucky accident, but for the rest of the season, we can see how both sides had to work to make well... Nuzi work!

For Uzi, asking for help is like asking for a death sentence probably. After being on her own for so long, she doesn't expect anyone to help. With that information in mind, the first time she let's that wall crumble was episode 2, Heartbeat.

"Uzi, shoot! Or give it to me!"

Granted, we all know that was not our N. But in that moment, when Uzi was in an enough distressed state, she sought help in N. We all know how that ended, though. Absolute Solver took advantage of that and almost killed her, before N once again sweeped in to save her. The one and only notorious Nuzi misunderstanding was, for better or for worse, cleared up pretty quickly. Seeing as glitchproduction only has so much money at their disposal, they can't really drag this ordeal out. Personally, I'm glad that it didn't. The long drama that is just a misunderstanding after misunderstanding gets quite tedious to follow.

So, moving forward in The Promening, Uzi once again seeks out N when she's in distress. When she sees and hears about what Doll and Lizzy were gonna do, she books it to the only person she knows can help her.

N! Now don't get me wrong. Uzi, by herself is plenty strong. She's shown off her fighting and capabilities, and would have probably been able to take V on. She's taken J down before, aaaand Uzi does technically also take V down in Cabin Fever. But she still went out of her way to go find N. So they could work together and get this mess sorted out.

And then there's this. God I love Cabin Fever, and surprisingly no, not for the Falling.... for you? scene. No, I loved the entire Uzi going on murder spree because she can! The music was such a banger too. But back to Uzi. She recognizes V and briefly snaps back to her usual self. Curious isn't it? N and Uzi both tried reaching out to V, but because V is so untrusting (and we all understand why from ep 5, Home). Here Uzi tried to ask V for help... in form of N.

I find it interesting how ever since Uzi met N and V, she's been getting better at asking for help. Sure, V shot her down because, once again, V was scared. Uzi was turning into the monster that only Cyn has been capable of creating. This soon leads to N yeeting Uzi into the f*cking stratosphere and the two have a chat.

I love how the animators included Uzi hiding behind her bat wings.

Her metaphorical walls were back up. And guess who broke them yet again.

The bestest boi N! And ever since this moment, N and Uzi are way more open.

Episode 5 was taking place in N's memories. But episode 6 is where their trust and care shines. Yeah, sure, there was the hand holding. And it was a big moment! But I enjoyed the little things more. Uzi checking in on N, nodding at his little comments and jokes.

Summary: I love Nuzi. Send help they're on my mind 24/7.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

okay kiddies it seems to be a slow wednesday (or i've just not seen everything yet - either is likely really) so i'm putting this out here now ... so i don't forget

thanks so much for the tag @firstprincehornyramblings

so today's wip wednesday is a Work-Is-Published cuz well the other thing i've been putting most my work into is for a secret thing and/or it's already been put up on ao3 this week for my firstprince week fics

so today's words are from what i've been affectionately calling star wars firstprince soulmates but is actually now titled soulmates, star wars, and insufferable aresholes (and has some surprise southern philanthropy lolz - tho really is that a surprise in my stuff anymore?)

“Eh, it could have been worse. At least it’s not boring.” The ravishing man holds his hand out to Henry. “I’m Alex, by the way. What can I call you besides blonde hottie?” He chuckles as if he only just realizes what he said. “Sorry, that’s what I’ve been calling you in my head. Well, besides, dude, I’m gonna marry.” Alex runs a hand through his hair and then clamps the other over his mouth as if he can stop any more words from coming out and Henry—he’s falling so hard, and he’s lucky his legs are still holding him upright. Henry finds the wherewithal to answer, even though all his brainpower seems to focus on how his hand feels in Alex’s, how his fingers wrap around his, and how they might feel wrapped around something else. “Henry.” He doesn’t get much else out as he slams his mouth shut after that, afraid his mouth will let any of the slew of horny thoughts pass into the space between them for the stragglers in the theater to hear as they pass them. “Well, Henry, has anyone ever told you that accent of yours should be illegal? It’s fucking lethal.”

OPEN TAG FOR ANYONE WHO WANTS TO PLAY ALONG (tag me plz) AND SOME OTHERS BENEATH THE CUT

a very gentle tag ur it!!! @adreamareads @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @catdadacd @caterpills

@cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03 @emmalostinwonderland

@england-would-fall @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @firstsprinces @suseagull04

@forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @henryspearl @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@inell @inexplicablymine @jmagnabo92 @judasofsuburbia @kiwiana-writes

@littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites @myheartalivewrites @ninzied

@orchidscript @piratefalls @porcelainmortal @priincebutt @softboynick

@sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes

@taste-thewaste @theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper @thighzp @thinkof-england

@tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite @zwiazdziarka @indestructibleheart @eusuntgratie

@stratocumulusperlucidus @basil-bird @strwbrryagcd @thedramasummer @cactusdragon517

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Letters Part Three

John Mitchell x Reader

Words: 3196

Summary: Mitchell and the reader try to create some normalcy living in the same house for the first time in eighty years. 

Notes: I’m not going to lie, this series is also a place where I get to hate Lucy as much as I want because I despise that woman. 

Part One; Part Two

-

Y/N: Do you know where the towels are?

J.M.: Who is this?

Y/N: Right, sorry, it’s me.

Y./N: I mean it’s Y/N. Annie gave me your number.

J.M.: I didn’t give you my number? I thought I did.

Y/N: No, you must have forgotten before you left. 

J.M.: Right. Sorry. Good that you have it now. 

…

…

Y/N: So towels?

-

Mitchell shot you a text explaining that they were in the cupboard in the bathroom, though he didn’t know why Annie couldn’t have just told you that. He tucked his phone back in his pocket and returned to cleaning out his cleaning bucket, which always felt counterproductive to him, but whatever. 

He could still see you standing in that doorway, so different yet so much the same. Even speaking with that new doctor, Lucy, all he could think about was the fact that you were waiting at the house, worrying about Lizzy Kain and God knows what else and he was in the hospital mopping up shite. 

He still didn’t understand it all. Lizzy being a vengeful, psychotic bitch, he could understand. In his brief acquaintance with Herrick’s reluctant Irish aly, he recognized both her and her disgusting husband’s brutality, even for vampires. How you got mixed up with them…

Mitchell gritted his teeth. 

He knew how, of course. 

Because he let you get away. 

“Right, so George tells me we have a new house guest?” Nina appeared in front of him, hands on her hips, and eyes holding her usual contempt for him. “Were you planning on asking the rest of us?”

“Where did you even come from?” He peered over her shoulder at the long hallway. 

“Don’t avoid my question, Mitchell.”

“It wasn’t my idea, okay?” He snapped. Mitchell ran a hand down his face and sighed. “It was Annie’s.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Sometimes she forgets the complicated nature of having relationships when you’ve lived over a century.”

Nina leaned in and lowered her voice. “So it’s true then? She’s your… your wife?”

Mitchell turned away. 

“Wow,” she scoffed. She shook her head, surprise clear on her features. 

“What?” Mitchell was getting tired of this conversation. 

“Nothing,” Nina shrugged. “I just wouldn’t have thought you the type.”

“I did have a life, you know.” He crossed his arms. “A very long one, actually.”

“Right.” She exhaled deeply. “I forget that sometimes, I guess.” Her tone softened from interrogation to just regular curiosity. He couldn't tell which was more frustrating. “So are you two, still, you know, together?”

“If by that you mean are we still legally married?”

Nina nodded. 

Mitchell let the tension in his shoulders relax. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.” He noticed her lingering surprise and elaborated. “Things like divorce get a little trivial when you-”

“Live as long as you do, I get it.” Nina bit her lip, trying to decide whether or not to keep walking or say something else. She chose the latter. “Listen, I’m not trying to be that flatmate, I just…” She looked up at him without disdain. “After everything that happened, we have to be careful.” 

Mitchell gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Nina.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She started to back away, raising a brow. “I can’t wait to hear all about you in your younger days from Mrs. Mitchell.” She held up crossed fingers. “I’m hoping for a photograph and a bad haircut.”

Mitchell rolled his eyes but laughed anyway. 

“I’ll see you later,” he said. 

She took a deep breath and pushed through a set of doors into a different hallway. 

After another hour, Mitchell finished work for the day, though a part of him wanted to stay there forever. The hospital was far from a palace, but there he could be something else. He could be invisible. 

You could see him. Better than anyone else, you could see him. 

He walked slower than usual down to his locker. 

“Mitchell!” A woman called after him. Lucy hurried towards him. “Sorry, I know you’re about to head off, but could you do me a favor?” 

He stopped walking and waited, but she just kinda… looked at him. 

“What is it?” He asked, a little more impatient than he intended. 

“Right, sorry.” That look in her eye didn’t go away but he couldn't quite tell what it was. “Could you show me where room 303 is? You would expect it to be next to 302, but no, finding anywhere in this bloody place is impossible.” 

His confusion must have shown on his face because she continued. 

“I just figured they make you clean up all round, so…”

“Um, sure,” he said. “It’s up this way.” 

He couldn't help but feel her watching him as they walked. She looked away every time he glanced at her, but he could still sense her eyes every time he turned his head back. 

“Alright, what?” He said. “Have I got something on my face? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Lucy sighed. “It’s nothing, I just-” She shook her head. “God this is stupid. I just feel awful about how I was earlier and I wanted to say sorry.”

Mitchell shrugged. “It’s okay. Really.”

“This transfer hasn’t exactly been what I expected and I took it out on the first bloke I saw.” She fixed a loose strand of hair. “So, yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Really, Lucy, it’s fine. I’ve dealt with worse from some of the white coats around here.”

“Can I make it up to you?” She blurted. She cleared her throat. “Buy you a drink or something?”

“Oh, I…” Mitchell grimaced. “You know, I just had a lot come up in my life and-”

“Okay,” she cut him off. “Forget I said anything.”

She walked away before he could say anything else. 

Mitchell stood in the middle of the hall, looking utterly flabbergasted. “Well, that was weird.” He ran his fingers through his hair and headed back toward the locker room. Shift change had already happened, so the place was empty. One of the lights was out, flickering overhead. It set him on edge. He opened his locker. 

And a rose fell out. 

-

You didn’t know how long you’d stood with the fridge door open, staring at the light while the cold air seeped out around you. 

“You…okay?”

The sudden voice made you jump, slamming the fridge door shut. 

Mitchell stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He held out his hands. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Christ, well you did,” you exclaimed. “If I could, I’d have a heart attack.” 

He snickered. “I said I was sorry.”

You turned to him, trying to look angry, but you just couldn’t. Not when he was smiling at you like that. Even with everything that had happened that day, you couldn’t keep yourself from laughing with him.

“Hand me a beer?” He asked. 

You opened the fridge again and grabbed two, popping the top off of your own. You took a long, slow drink. 

Mitchell took a long, slow drink. 

Then the two of you exchanged a long, slow look. 

It was enough to drive both of you mad. 

“How was your day?” Mitchell wondered, unable to keep the awkwardness from his voice. 

“It was fine,” you said tightly. You could still feel the heat of Daisy’s stare and the chill of Ivan’s indifference. “You?”

Mitchell thought of the rose he’d thrown away on the way here. He thought of the only person who would have sent it. 

He shrugged. “Fine.” 

“Great.” You took another drink. 

So did he. “Great.” 

“I found the towels,” you said. 

“That’s good.” The image of you in the shower popped into your head and just made him all the more awkward. “Does Annie’s room suit you okay?”

“Oh yeah, it’ll be fine while I’m here.” You leaned against the counter. “I really appreciate her letting me stay there.”

“She doesn’t really sleep, so,” he shrugged. 

“Still,” you said, “it’s nice of her.”

“Yeah.”

You both finished your beers. 

Was this how it was going to be? Sitting in silence, walking on eggshells, never knowing what to say? It used to be so natural. You could tell him anything and he you. He was your best friend. Now, were you anything more than strangers?

You finally both spoke, words overlapping each other.

“I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner.”

“Do you want another drink?” 

You blinked, processing his question after yours. 

Mitchell looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just, I don’t cook much and Nina and George are working tonight, so I thought…” He stood, picking up the empty bottles and tossing them. “Never mind, it was a stupid idea.”

“No,” you said, following him. “I think that sounds kinda nice.” 

After the day you had with Mr. and Mrs. Crazy, you wouldn’t mind a nice meal. And eighty years left a lot of catching up to do. 

“Really?” Mitchell asked, brows raised in surprise. 

You nodded. “Maybe you can show me around Bristol. I haven’t been in ages.” 

He smiled and your knees felt weak.

“Great.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m just going to take a shower and then we can go?”

“Alright,” you said, turning away to keep from melting entirely. 

So that answered that then. Even after all this time, you could never be strangers. Not really.

-

It was a quiet night. The pub had few other patrons, which let you and Mitchell eat in peace. Though, without the bustle, it left room for the awkward silence that plagued the two of you still. 

“Good chips,” you noted. 

He shrugged. “It isn’t the nicest place, but it’s George and I’s favorite.”

“It reminds me of the place my father used to take me to,” you said. “Do you remember?”

“How could I forget? I’d see you in there when you were just a girl, waiting to help walk him home.” He shook his head. “Drunk prick.” 

It wasn’t a pleasant memory, but for some reason, the frustration in his tone comforted you. 

He still cared. 

“Not all of my nights at that pub were bad,” you said softly, looking at him over the top of your beer. “We first danced there.”

Mitchell chuckled. “Dancing is a generous word for you stomping all over my feet.”

“Maybe I was just giving you a reason to give me more lessons.” You smirked back. 

You looked at each other for a long while, his soft hazel eyes staring into yours and making time stop. For that moment, it felt like you were back in that pub and he was asking you to dance. 

Mitchell looked away first and cleared his throat. “So how long were you with the Kains?” 

You set your stein aside. “I met Lizzy around the turn of the century and she took a liking to me. When she asked me to stay with them, well-” You took a deep breath. “She isn’t exactly the type you say no to.” 

“I remember her being,” he tried to think of the right word, “intense.” 

You snorted, bitterness lacing your tone. “She’s a right crazy bitch.” Taking a long swig of your beer, you shrugged. “But having her for a friend for the better part of ten years had its perked. I mean, no one messed with us. It was like we were untouchable.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Another uncomfortable tension filled the air. 

Mitchell couldn’t help the frustration burning in his chest. All those years ago, you left him behind. You left him with the power you both feared more than any other. And you left only to stumble into another situation that was just the same. 

You felt his demeanor change and anger bubbled up your throat. 

He had the audacity to judge? After everything he’d abandoned you to be a part of? After everything he’d let Herrick get away with?

You shook your head. 

In his defense, he didn’t know everything.

“Maybe we should be getting back,” you said, keeping your eyes trained at the table. 

Mitchell leaned back in the booth. “I’ll get the check when she gets back.”

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s not a problem.”

Christ, it was worse than a bad first date. 

Daisy’s mocking words from earlier rang through your head. 

“You’ve been apart longer than you’ve been together.” Her blue eyes sparkled wickedly at you. “I’m surprised he even remembers you.”

Was it possible? Had he blocked out your past together while you’d spent every day for nearly a century thinking of his smile? 

“Oh, um-” Mitchell scratched the back of his neck, his awkwardness turning less irritated. “There’s a sweets place on the way back. They’ve got those old-style chocolates you like if you want to stop by.”

“Are you buying those too?” 

A small smile returned to his lips. “I’m a hospital porter, Y/N, and I don’t mop up money.”

“We could always swipe it like we did that bottle from McQuinn’s place,” you snickered. 

“He almost shot us.”

You waved your hand. “He was half blind. The man couldn’t hit the side of a barn.” 

Mitchell stood and held out his arm. “Let’s just go, alright?” 

“Alright, John.” You took his arm and let him lead you out. 

Things may have changed, but he hadn’t forgotten. 

-

Y/N

I would like to see you again. I know it might be complicated because of your father. We can meet by the river at the spot where you hid the whiskey. Meet me there tomorrow night when your family falls asleep. If you don’t want to, I won’t bother you anymore. But I’d really like to hear more about your story. 

Yours,

John

-

Back at the house, Annie greeted you with a cup of tea and a big question.

“Were you two on a date?” 

You nearly choked on the tea. “What? No!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mitchell sputtered. “We went out to the pub, that’s all.”

Annie simply raised a brow and took your hand, leading you into the living room. “Well, I think he has hogged you long enough.” 

Mitchell scoffed arms out at his sides. “We were gone for two hours.” 

“But Y/N was gone all day,” Annie said, confused.

Mitchell turned to you with brows furrowed. 

“Annie, why don’t you show me some of your favorite channels?” You hurriedly picked up the remote and let the sound of the TV take over the growing tension. 

Mitchell narrowed his eyes, but decided not to push it, heading upstairs to take a shower and wash the memories out of his head. Being sentimental now wouldn’t help anyone. Even if your laugh reminded him so much of how it felt to be young. To be human. 

“So.” Annie’s curious, bright eyes found yours. “Where’d you disappear this afternoon if it wasn’t with your husband?” 

Daisy’s piercing eyes and Ivan’s smirk popped into your head.

“I just wandered around,” you shrugged. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to Bristol. A lot has changed.” 

“I know!” She exclaimed. “Just last week they finished building this awful shopping mall and I don’t think I’ve ever seen an uglier building.”

You laughed, reminding yourself that even though the two of you weren’t exactly amongst the living, she was still so new.

“Sounds awful,” you agreed, though not without a teasing tone.

Annie nudged you with her shoulder. “Just wait til you see it.” Her mouth fell open and her face lit up. “Oh my god, we should have a girls' trip and get you some new clothes!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “It’ll be so fun. And you didn’t come here with much in the way of outfits.”

“What’s wrong with this one?” You looked down at your ratty jeans and jumper. 

“It’s… fine,” she said. “A little too ‘on the run from my crazy vampire coven’ don’t you think?” 

You gasped in mock offense.

“This is my favorite shirt.”

“Maybe we can get you a new one?” She snickered.

“You’re terrible,” you exclaimed, letting the laughter take over. 

She was right, of course.

It was a fucking hideous jumper.

-

Summer 1909 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

He threw the bottle.

You raised an arm to keep the glass from hitting your face as it shattered against the wall. You ran.

“Get back here ya ungrateful-”

The slamming door cut off your father’s shouts. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

Thunder rumbled over your head but you didn’t care. The sound cleared away the stinging words in your mind, washing everything away like the rain that was sure to follow. You hoped it was a tempest. You hoped lightning struck that house and burned everything to the ground. You hoped it took you up in the wind and carried you far from here. 

You don’t know where you’re going by the time you get there, finding yourself at a crossroads down the lane from your cottage. A wheel with a broken wheel sat abandoned on the side of the road, providing a good specimen to focus your unfiltered anger on. 

Wood splintered and metal creaked with every kick you landed against the vehicle. Screams of frustration mixed with the sound of the destruction. You tore off pieces of the seat with your hands and threw them into the field. 

You attacked the object until you were out of breath and sweat stuck your hair to the back of your neck. 

“That’s an interesting tactic to fix a wheel.” A voice said behind you, making you jump. A boy your age stood with his hands in his pockets, watching you with an amused smirk. “I could help you if you like.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help,” you snapped, tucking your shaking hands under your arms. 

“Is that why you’re attacking a poor, defenseless wagon?” He stepped towards you. “Because I think there might be an underlying issue here.”

“I know you.” You glared. “You’re that Mitchell boy who used to chase me around with frogs. John.”

He laughed. “In my defense, we were six.”

“I hold grudges.”

“Is that what happened with the wagon?” 

You let out a growling yell and threw another piece of broken wood at him, which he aptly dodged. 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” John held up his hands in surrender. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He raised a brow, ready to make another comment about the splinters you’d kicked in. 

You looked away. 

John took another step towards you, his tone sweet and gentle “Can I walk you home?”

“No,” you answered a little too quickly. You cleared your throat and shook your head. “I don’t want to go home.” 

“Can I walk you somewhere else then?” He smiled. 

You scoffed. “If my father saw you alone with me, he’d shoot you.”

John glanced around, holding out his arms. He shrugged. “I don’t see him anywhere.” He held out his arm. “McQuinn’s’ll serve us so long as we don’t tell him how old we are.”

You smiled, feeling a small weight lift off your shoulders. 

He was rather cute, you supposed. 

“Okay, John.”

[ever-after-high-alistair]

Twisted Memories

The cool breeze of Ever After caressed Raven's pale face, sending fresh air wafting through her nose. After a long day of Apple's relentless pressure after legacy day, she needed an escape. Crunching of the fallen leaves and quiet animal chatter calmed Raven, her heart rate slowing. 

“But it’s not sweet enough, earl gray!” 

Raven heard an outburst of a familiar voice she felt comfortable around. She followed the distinct chatter, leading her to Wonderland grove. There sat Madeline Hatter, surrounded by tea cakes, cups, utensils of all shapes and sizes, and her very own table. 

“Hey Maddie” 

Raven said, sounding almost unsure. She was careful not to scare Maddie by cutting through her peaceful silence. Maddie was never silent herself, and Raven felt as though she was the only one who was by her side. Her presence never scared Maddie, but rather excited her. 

“Hey Raven! It’s about time you were almost late!”

“You were expecting me?” Raven questioned. 

“No. Now sit, eat, drink, eat, and sit” 

Raven chuckled, pulling out a round chair from the opposite side of Maddie. She helped herself to a teacake, studying the madness and beauty of wonderland grove. She traded glances with Maddie, darting her eyes away and back to the huge blue leaf hanging by. 

“Don’t worry about legacy day, all is well and this too shall pass” maddie giggled 

Raven was startled hearing about the very same things she was thinking about on her way. 

“How’d you know?” 

“The narrators told me” 

Another tea cake was scarfed down by Raven, looking around once more. Maddie seemed to know everything. She knew how she felt, and she comforted her when no one else did. But Maddie needed some comforting too. Raven remembered the curse, like many things, caused by her mother. The reason maddie was sitting across from her at that very moment was because of the destruction her mom caused. 

“It’s ok Raven it’s not your fault” 

“Huh?” 

“The curse wasn’t your fault” 

“Oh.”

There was a long pause. There wasn’t much else to say, awkwardness filled the air. But Maddie didn’t seem to mind, no long face, no discomfort was coming across on her side, so why should Raven feel that way. 

“Maddie, can I ask you something?”

Silence filled the air, persisting Raven to carry on. 

“If it’s ok, tell me about Wonderland” 

Maddie's hair bounced with excitement when asked about her safe haven. She was soul tied to her home, and made it quite clear. 

“Ok ok, sit down o little one, let me tell you”

Wonderland was a topsy turvy twist of madness, when me and my friends weren’t climbing tumtum trees in the jubjub forest, we were at my dads tea shop with endless possibilities for pies, sweets, and tea. We would stay out till the sky turned purple and Lizzie was called back into her palace by her mother.  

Maddie's story came to a stop, taking a break to sip more tea. Raven didn’t want to persist and make maddie replay the memories from her old abode. But nevertheless, she still continued. 

And when school came around, we all stuck together like treacle sticks to the top of your mouth. Every hour gets madder than the last. And I have yet to figure out what was in the mashed potatoes. Kitty always hated school, cause she had to take a break from her naps. And after, she dozed off on a tumtum tree branch before you could even say flibbertigibbet. My favourite pastime was watching the dodo birds and crochet porcupines get tired of kittys pranks and go home for the night. Off to have the sweetest dreams and count the teacup shaped stars that danced across the sky. And when we were younglings, the guards would get sick of our antics and keep us outside, away from the precious diamonds and family heirlooms the Card Castle possessed. We’d live everyday like that, with madness pulsing through our veins. 

“Sorry Maddie” Raven managed to slip out 

“Don’t be! If I didn’t get sent here, I wouldn’t have met you!” 

Raven felt like maddie was truly a wonder. They sipped on tea and laughed with earl gray until sundown. The air went from warm and crisp, to cold and heavy. They made their way back to the school, with their conversation still stuck in Raven's head. 

“Good night Raven” 

“Good night Maddie”

______________________________________________________________

Ok this one is a little bit new, also sorry for the title I tried my best so hopefully its not cringe. Also the italics is Maddie narrating. Their friendship isn't talked about enough for me. Thanks for reading and feel free to given me any suggestions.

[pollymorgan]

Ex-Husband Negan Part 7

Warnings: Negan is Negan, a few hot words, a woman who doesn't learn.

Shame on me! 🙈 For some reason, I thought Lizzie was 7 years old when writing, but she's actually 11 years old ... so, if she comes across as "immature," that's the explanation .... Sorry ...

Present

I was just preparing the salad for dinner with Lizzie. Or rather, my youngest daughter was cutting the tomatoes, while I stood next to her in a panic, struggling not to snatch the sharp knife from her little hands, when Gracie came into the kitchen talking on the phone.

"Yes, Dad, I know, but you have to understand ..." she spoke calmly into the receiver.

Typical, if I had pulled a stunt like Negan did this morning, she wouldn't have talked to me for at least a month, but with her father, everything was immediately forgiven and forgotten.

As she said goodbye to him, Lizzie immediately turned around frantically. "I wanted to talk to Daddy too ...".

I immediately took the knife from her hand and held her arm because she was wobbling uncontrollably on the step.

"Dad didn't have time anyway, because he's on his way to go eat with Sherry!" my eldest replied.

Somewhat shocked, I asked, "Sherry?!?"

Just hearing another woman's name in connection with Negan stabbed me in the heart, but the fact that it seemed completely normal for my children shocked me even more.

"Well, Daddy's girlfriend ..." Lizzie said meekly.

I tried to compose myself and not show anything to my children.

"So, his girlfriend then ..." I replied softly.

Gracie stood between us and stole a piece of bell pepper from the cutting board, "Yeah, she's really cool ...".

"Do you know her?" I asked, as unimpressed as possible.

"Of course, we even went shopping together ..." she said and then poured the chopped vegetables into a large bowl.

I had definitely lost my appetite at dinner. Thoughtfully, I poked at my plate. That bastard. Negan was clearly the one who had seduced me again last night, and then he didn't even bother to mention his girlfriend with a single word.

The anger and disappointment boiled inside me, but worse yet, even though I didn't want to admit it, I was also insanely jealous.

Last night had shown me that my feelings for him were still so incredibly strong, but it all seemed meaningless to him. Why does he still have such power over me, even though he has caused me so much pain?

Even in the evening, when I lay in my bed, the voices in my head did not stop. How could he whisper such sweet things to me yesterday while bringing me to climax over and over again and then spend a nice evening with the next woman - his girlfriend???

In a feeble attempt to distract myself, I scrolled through my phone. Opened apps only to close them again immediately. Eventually, I went to my photo gallery and came across a selfie I had taken a few days ago, in front of my bed.

I didn't know exactly what I wanted to achieve with it, or what I hoped to achieve, but after applying a few filters, I posted it on my status and made it visible only to Negan.

Annoyed with myself, I placed the phone on my nightstand and buried myself under the covers. I lay there for a few minutes, struggling with whether I should just delete the post, when I heard a vibration. I quickly threw the covers off and grabbed my phone.

"Damn, you're hot, Mom 🔥😍"

I couldn't help but smile, and the devil on my shoulder thought that Sherry might not be so interesting after all, if my ex-husband could find the time to react to my photo.

"And damn lonely, all alone in bed ... 🥺...everything still smells like you, Daddy ..." I replied, and it wasn't even a lie. I hadn't changed the sheets yet, and his scent had been clouding my senses the whole time.

I felt my cheeks flush at the thought of what he might write, and I didn't have to wait long for a response.

"Oh, my poor baby... Do you miss me so much? Be good and touch yourself for me, okay? And then tell me if you still feel where my tongue was yesterday, all over you and inside you ... Fuck, I still have your heavenly taste on my lips ..."

Instantly, every part of me tingled. My whole body seemed to be buzzing with electricity. Just his written words and the thought of last night sent me into ecstasy.

But I didn't want to settle for this chat while he was probably sitting nonchalantly next to his new girlfriend, enjoying the evening to the fullest.

"No, that's not enough for me ... My fingers are running over my body, to all my sensitive spots, but it doesn't feel the same as you ... Nothing feels even close to as good as you! I need you here with me, Negan. Now!" I nervously sent the message.

Agonizingly, I watched as he typed, but no new message appeared. Then he suddenly went offline. Fuck! I had probably lost this little game.

Just as I was about to disappointedly put my phone away, a response finally came.

"Put on something sexy. I'll be there in 20 minutes! 😉"

Oh man, my heart leaped. He was actually going to show up here! He had chosen me. At least for tonight.

Excited like a teenager, I jumped out of bed and, no, I ran to my dresser. I quickly pulled out some lingerie that I constantly bought but never wore.

After choosing one, I went to the bathroom to freshen up. I kept glancing at the clock.

After just 15 minutes, the doorbell rang. I grabbed my robe and put it on, then hurriedly ran down the stairs.

As I opened the door and he stood there in front of me, my heart pounded even harder in my chest. He looked incredibly good in his dark clothing and black-rimmed glasses.

Smiling confidently, he was about to lean in to kiss me when I pushed him back with a flat hand on his chest.

"Was Sherry very sad that you had to leave?" I asked innocently.

His grin widened instantly. He leaned his upper body back and let his eyes roam over my body.

"You little minx, so the kids told you about her ... but I have to say, your jealousy is incredibly sexy..." His gaze lingered on my belt, which I had quickly tied around my waist. He casually undid the knot with a quick hand movement, and my robe fell open. The cool air immediately caused goosebumps to form on my bare skin.

"Fuck.." Negan whispered as he caught sight of my white lace underwear.

We were still standing at the open front door, but I didn't care in that moment.

"So, why did you come here?" I provocatively asked him.

"Shit, what kind of question is that? ... Isn't it more than obvious ...?" he replied and then bit his lip.

"I want to hear it from you..." I still pressed.

Negan confidently approached me, but I took a few steps back so we were in the middle of the hallway. He let the door slam shut behind him, maintaining eye contact with me.

"Because I want you ... only you..." he answered, then he grabbed me firmly and pulled me into a long, passionate kiss, his fingers wandering under my robe. When his large hands touched my butt, I couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

"Wow, wow, let's go to the bedroom before the girls wake up..." Negan laughed.

As soon as we arrived there, I let my robe slip completely off my body. Just his reaction to me made my lower abdomen clench with desire.

"Show me..." he commanded with a firm, deep voice. I looked at him questioningly, then he added. "Show me how you touched yourself when you missed me ... I can't stop thinking about your message ... I want to see it..."

Without breaking eye contact with him, I fell back onto the bed. Negan stood there watching every move I made. There was so much tension in the room that it was palpable.

Slowly, I began running my fingers over my chest and gently stroked my sensitive nipples, which were only covered by a thin fabric and immediately stiffened.

I enjoyed his gaze on me. I could see how much he was turned on by all of this. His green-brown eyes seemed darker than usual and gleamed with lust. His Adam's apple moved up and down noticeably, and his tongue lightly moistened his perfectly shaped lips.

Just as I was about to continue moving my hand down my body, the bedroom door unexpectedly opened. Startled, I pulled the blanket over my body and looked at the shocked face of my partner Steve, who suddenly stood before us.

"What's going on here?" he asked, pale as a sheet.

Negan turned to him first and then amusedly back to me, grinning from ear to ear. "Wow, the evening is going to be even more exciting than I expected...!"

[tubbytarchia]

want to hear your thoughts on jimmy and joel. all your thoughts. all of them. across universes.

You ask you shall receive. I love them a lot

I can see them as a ship (and no Joel white knight can come at me when those two frequently engage in questionable exchanges) but mostly I see them as best friends with a brotherly bond. Joel is kinda similar to Martyn to me when thinking of Jimmy, where he's always been there and taken him for who he is and just fucked around, carefree. He's a mean bean but his banter doesn't give off maliciousness, to me he hasn't ever seemed as overstepping and making Jimmy genuinely upset

Unfortunately ESMP2 happened and it really pains me how much Joel drove the "toy Jimmy" bit into the ground, resulting in all the seriousness that Jimmy wasn't ever offered. Maybe Jimmy wouldn't have become as much of a joke as he was were it not for Joel. Maybe it would have all hurt a bit less if Joel hadn't built massive walls around Tumble Town. This does pain me always, but you know what, at least "bullying Jimmy" is not his shtick that he needs to rely on throughout various SMPs as much as it feels like certain other people do. He decided to lean into it this once wirh some thought that wasn't just "haha Jimmy sux!!" but unfortunately it devolved and absolutely everyone went along with his bit. But as far as Joel goes, from a brotherly sort of friendship perspective especially, this kind of teasing and banter is more excusable than it would be within a romantic ship etc, but regardless it still pains me lol

Aside from that though, they're buds... Joel I don't think could ever comfort Jimmy in any decent way just because of being the rabid creature that he is, even if he were to know of and understand Jimmy's horrors (to the best of his ability). But what matters is that he cares... He doesn't ever express this outwardly but he cares and that makes me happy and enjoy them as a duo. Things like how in Limited Life he really wanted to help Jimmy get some time to stay in the game longer and his downward red life spiral pretty much beginning with Jimmy's death. How in Secret Life he expresses confidence in Jimmy having his back, and how in spite of his anguish after Lizzie's death, he doesn't say anything to ruin Jimmy's fun upon him not being the first one out. Even when Jimmy's not there, all he says is "Jimmy's gloating about it, which is a weird thing to gloat about? But we have to give him every little win, don't we"

Also in 3rd Life, Jimmy kind of jokingly (I guess??) left a sign on Joel's property that just said "I miss you - Love from Solidarity" and I never stop thinking about it. It pains me a lot, especially when that came before the FH ordeal kicked into proper gear. It honestly reads like one last effort to get away from something awful that he's anticipating, for someone to help? Something something canary, he's sensing the danger. But Joel is stupid lol and I can't blame him for not paying that sign any mind. Anyway this is a stretch I just. I never stop thinking about it.........this reads like a cry for help..........

It genuinely surprises me when I think back to the traffic series' and realize how little Joel has made fun of Jimmy. Sure he laughs, with him it's more excusable because of their friendship, and yet somehow he doesn't make a fool of or comment on Jimmy's reputation as much as some others do. He doesn't seem to think Jimmy to be notably incompetent like some of the others do. Can't say too much on other SMPs because I've seen very little of them but the vibes seem to be more or less same. I love them a lot anon, I love them a lot... Joel, for a change, is someone Jimmy deserves (because he deserves someone who cares) and is fortunate to have, if only it weren't for all the unrelenting horrors that Joel can't really help with in any case. Pensive

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 47 ~ Infected

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 4

✧ Word Count : 5k

In this chapter ~ All was well in the early morning, until the group discovers chaos breaking out in one of the cellblocks, leading to many deaths that none of them were prepared for. They soon discover an illness is beginning to spread, needing to act on it fast before it only got worse.

I woke up the next morning with Daryl's arms still wrapped protectively around my waist whilst my head rested against his chest. I easily could've let myself laugh at how hard he was sleeping, he was practically knocked out cold. It wasn't too early in the morning, I could tell, but I knew nobody else would be up yet at this hour. The sun was just barely beginning to rise.

After slowly allowing myself to wake, I tried to cautiously worm my way out of his hold so I could shower before everyone else started to get up for the day. It was never a fun thing when the bathroom was constantly crowded. But right as I was sitting on the edge of the bed and about to stand, familiar arms wrapped around me again and pulled me back into him with ease. I laughed quietly at his movements, my back was now pressed against his chest.

"No." he muttered into my neck.

"We have to get ready eventually." I pointed out, knowing the long day we had planned ahead of us.

He left a few light kisses on my neck before saying, "Yeah, eventually meanin...eventually." he spoke in a slow, teasing manner.

I smiled, "Well, I wanted to take a shower this morning before anyone else woke up."

That caused him to perk up quite quickly, and I could feel him pull away so he was sat up on his elbows. I turned to look at him over my shoulder and gave him an innocent smile.

He raised his eyebrows, "I'll meet cha there." he said with a wink.

That made my eyes sparkle as I eagerly nodded my head before getting up and heading towards the showers. I was lost in my own little world as I walked past a few cell clocks, the echoing of my footsteps being the only thing I could hear in the odd silence. I began going over in my head about what I had to get done that day, also hoping to catch a glimpse Michonne at least once more before she was most likely going to head out again. Knowing she wouldn't be staying long. But what I was really focused on is how I wouldn't be showering alone this morning, and that brought a smirk to my face.

Though my thoughts then cut short suddenly when I heard a weird sound coming from down the hallway I walked past, making me stop for a moment and backtrack a few steps as I paused to listen. The darkened hallway led to a separate cellblock, and I could've sworn the noise sounded just like a walker, but I didn't want to freak out if it was nothing as I remained calm. I slowly took out the knife I always had on me and followed slowly to where the distant sound was coming from. 

But then my heart stopped beating completely. There were screams.

I quickly broke into a sprint, my feet not being able to carry me there fast enough, and when I saw what it looked like in the cellblock, I could've sworn my heart fell clean out of my chest. There were walkers everywhere surrounding the space, hearing others screaming at the top of their lungs while a few kids held onto each other for dear life.

I recognized Lizzy and Mika standing the closest to me, a walker was about to attack them as they screamed and gripped onto each other tightly. I quickly threw my knife into the walker's skull and it fell down in an instant, their heads whipping toward me the second they saw it go down.

My arm reached out as I pulled the two of them aside, "Are you bit?" I asked as my eyes scanned them.

They both shook their heads frantically and I had to act fast, "Go get anyone you can find, okay? Tell them what's happening. Hurry!" I yelled, pushing them to safety and they were off faster than I had ever seen them run.

I turned my attention back to the chaos in front of me and took down as many walkers as I could. Trying my best to get the kids around me to safety, telling them to stick together and run out the second they saw an opportunity. I couldn't believe the disaster that unfolded in just a matter of minutes it seemed like. So much death, so much destruction. And so, so much blood. A scene straight out of a horror movie.

My feet rushed up the stairs to the remaining cells and instantly spotted another walker trying to grab ahold of an older man, causing me to throw my knife at it in record speed before it got the chance. As it fell, he looked at me gratefully and I nodded at him in return, telling him frantically to get somewhere safe as I ushered him down the steps.

I looked back to my right to see a few kids crying in the cell, and I shut the door with a slam so they would have a little more protection from the walkers that still lingered in the area. I killed two more of them that were coming at me in the narrow walkway, and it was then and only then I heard heavy footsteps stomping inside the cellblock, my name being called out only seconds later.

Daryl and Rick both simultaneously yelled for me as they had barely passed through the entrance, "I'm here! Protect the others, I'm okay!" I yelled back as I stabbed another walker, the blood splattering all over the wall in front of me.

The screams never stopped, and the dead bodies only seemed to triple in the few minutes that passed by. I helped a few more kids down the stairs so they could make it out safely, and I double checked the cells around me to make sure there were no more dead ones that I had missed on the top floor. 

And while I didn't come across another, I found one of our people laying there lifeless in his bed, his stomach torn open to shreds. It was devastating, but I knew I couldn't let him turn, taking in a breath before leaning down to stab him in the head with a heavy heart. The noise outside only seemed to die down and all you could hear now was people catching their breaths as the remaining dead seemed to finally be taken care of.

My pace picked up again as I heard my name being called once more, rushing down the steps before I was instantly pulled aside by Daryl. "Ya okay? Are ya bit?" he asked frantically.

I took in a breath as I nodded, "I'm okay." I confirmed as he brought me into a tight hug.

I held onto him for a few moments, regaining my composure as I tried to steady my racing heart. Thinking back to how fast it all seemed to happen. My eyes then traveled towards Rick who approached the two of us, silently nodding to him to show him I was fine. He visibly sighed in relief and placed a hand on my shoulder as we looked around at all the dead bodies that filled cellblock D.

There was blood everywhere, coating the floors, the walls, similar to when we first had to clean this place up. People were crying from every corner of the room as they saw the amount of people we just lost, somehow the disaster only getting worse as they saw some of their family members get ripped apart right in front of them.

Eventually we managed to clear the entire place, making sure that all the people we found...didn't come back. It was hard looking at all the dead bodies that surrounded the floors and I felt myself frown when we found Patrick, the familiar face that I talked to only yesterday. I didn't know the kid that well, but it never ceased to amaze me how quickly someone can be taken away like its nothing.

It seemed as though the incident at the Big Spot only caused everything else to snowball into something much bigger.

Rick's voice then echoed around the space, calling the rest of us to the top floor as he was down on his knees, inspecting a body on the floor. We all gathered around the tight space quickly, looking down to see it was someone unrecognizable to me with blood coming out of their mouth and eyes. I cringed at the sight as Dr. S took a closer look at the body, getting down to its level to see what might've caused it.

"No bites, no wounds, I think he just died." Rick voiced out loud as he glanced over it for the final time.

"Horribly too," Dr. S stated, "Pleurisy aspiration."

I blinked a few times in confusion, "English please."

"Choked to death on his own blood." Hershel clarified from next to me.

I grimaced, "Jesus." 

"I've seen them before on a walker outside," Rick stated, "A few of them had the same thing when they were lined up along the fences."

"We saw 'em on Patrick too." Daryl said.

Dr. S sighed to himself as he sat up, "They're from the internal lung pressure building up...like if you shake a soda can and pop the top. Only imagine your eyes, ears, nose, and throat are the top."

"Is it a sickness from the walkers?" I asked.

He shook his head, "No, these things happened before they were around. Could be pneumococcal, most likely an aggressive flu strain."

"Someone locked him in just in time." Hershel said.

Daryl shook his head, "Nah man, Charlie used to sleepwalk, locked himself in. Hell, he was eatin barbecue yesterday. How can somebody die in a day just from a cold?"

"I had a sick pig, it died quick. Saw a sick boar in the woods." Rick said.

"Pigs and birds, that's how these things spread in the past. We need to do something about those hogs." Hershel said.

"Maybe we got lucky. Maybe these two cases are it." Dr. S spoke hopefully.

I tried not to roll my eyes, "Yeah, I wouldn't hold my breath." I muttered sarcastically.

"All of us in here, we've all been exposed." Hershel said sadly, slowly looking back towards me as if he could feel the worry already radiating off of me.

I cursed under my breath and had to step out of the cell, pulling my hair to the side as I began to do the one thing I shouldn't: Think. I wasn't worried about myself at all, that's not the reason I was suddenly overwhelmed. It was the fact that some of the people I cared about the absolute most had now been exposed to this. Were now at risk of catching it. I couldn't even fathom the idea of losing any of them right now.

"We should set up a council meeting to talk about this." Rick suggested, coming out with the others, "I'm gonna go talk to Carl first." he announced, and we all seemed to wordlessly nod in return.

Only about an hour passed as the news about what happened had spread fast, a couple of council members gathered around in the library, talking about the sudden new outbreak. What we planned to do next was still completely unknown to us, and the unknown was a terrifying place.

We didn't know anything. How fast the illness can spread, what would be the cure, how we could stop it from reaching anyone else, we truly didn't know a damn thing. Though something we were well aware of was how dangerous it could be, risking all of our lives in the process of trying to figure everything out.

My leg bounced anxiously under the table as I was sat between Daryl and Glenn, my mind racing as I thought about the potential outcome of this.

"Patrick was fine yesterday, and he died overnight. Two people died that quick? We'll have to separate everyone that's been exposed." Carol said.

"That's everyone in that cell block," Daryl stated, "That's all of us...maybe more."

Hershel took a breath, "We know that this sickness can be lethal, we don't know how easy it spreads. Is anyone else showing symptoms that we know of?"

Daryl's eyes glanced over at me, how easily he could tell I was spacing off with millions of thoughts running through my head. I then felt the warmth of his hand on my knee that was bouncing moments ago, stopping my movements before giving it a reassuring squeeze. This made me look up at him and all I saw was a small smile on his face, but it seemed forced, and I knew he was worried just as much as I was.

"We can't just wait and see, there's children. It isn't just the illness, people die, they become a threat." Carol with clear urgency.

The older man thought for a minute before saying, "We need a place for them to go, they can't stay in D. We can't risk going in there to clean it up."

I spoke up for the first time, "We can use cellblock A." I suggested.

"Death row? I'm not sure that's much of an upgrade." Glenn muttered.

"It's clean. That's an upgrade." Daryl defended, "Do ya think that'll work for Dr, S?" he asked Hershel.

He nodded, "I'll help Caleb get it set up there."

He looked like he was about to say more, but we all were stunned to silence when we heard some rough coughing coming from the hallway. Everyone's ears perked up and soon we all stood in the doorway with our heads poking out to see who it was. My face fell a little when I saw Ty and Karen making their way down the hall, Karen holding a tissue to her face as she continued to cough, not being able to catch her breath easily.

I heard Ty whisper, "You okay?" and she only nodded her head in response, before letting out another raspy cough.

I then stepped out with furrowed brows, "Are you sure? That doesn't sound too good."

Ty gave me a reassuring smile, "I'm just taking her back to my cell so she can rest, it's okay Rose."

"Tyreese, I don't think that's a good idea." Hershel spoke.

"Why, what's going on now?" Karen asked.

There was a beat of silence and no one really knew how to approach it. And at this point we were all standing in the hallway with them, our worried expressions now on full display. It was clear none of us wanted to be blunt, but we kind of had to for them to know how serious this was.

Glenn eventually bit the bullet, "We think it's a flu or something, it's how Patrick died." 

"Judith is in that cellblock, she's vulnerable. Anyone that may be sick, or even exposed should stay away." Hershel advised.

My heart dropped when I heard him say her name. I couldn't even think about her getting sick let alone losing her forever, the thought alone nearly killed me.

"It killed Patrick?" Karen asked worriedly.

"Hey, hey, it's going to be okay." Tyreese was quick to reassure her before turning back to us, "Now that we know what Patrick died from, we can treat it right?" 

"Don't panic, we're going to figure this out. But we should keep you separated in the meantime. We'll have Caleb take a look at you and I'll see what we have in the way of medications." Hershel said with a nod.

Karen thought for a moment before saying, "David from the Decatur group; he's been coughing too."

"I'll get him." Glenn offered before turning towards me, "There's some empty clean cells in the tunnels, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, there should be." I said absentmindedly.

He nodded, giving my arm a squeeze before walking down the hall to track David down and break the news to him. Sasha then got her brother's attention, offering to lead them into a cell where Karen could be looked at and they seemed to follow her there without hesitation.

"We'll have to call another meeting later like Rick wanted." Hershel said to the ones who remained.

I nodded at him, "Okay." I muttered.

He looked at me for a moment longer than usual before placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, "It'll be alright, dear." he whispered.

I sighed before placing my hand on top of his as I nodded, mustering the best smile I could right now before watching him walk away, leaving the three of us.

My eyes panned back up to notice Carol spacing off, "You okay?" I asked to get her attention.

"I'm worried about Lizzy and Mika...they were around Patrick." she said.

"We all were." Daryl stated, "But it'll be fine...Karen and David are gonna be separated till they feel better."

She nodded, "You're right. I'm gonna head out to check on them now." she said with a small smile before walking away just like the rest.

I leaned up against the wall across from him and sighed as my eyes fluttered closed. It seemed like we were finally getting our lives together, and now this illness was killing multiple people at a time in just a few hours. It practically tore everything down that we tried so hard to rebuild.

"Aye," Daryl's voice cut in, "What's goin on in that pretty head of yours?" he asked while stepping up to come closer to me.

I rolled my eyes slightly at the question, "You know what I'm thinking about, you can read me like a book...it's annoying."

He chuckled a little, "Yeah, I know...tell me anyway."

My hand reached up to pinch the bridge of my nose, "I'm just worried about everyone. All the people in that cellblock, the rest of us, the kids, Judith...you. I- I don't want to lose anyone else." I said sadly.

His expression morphed into concern as he walked closer to me and placed a hand on the side of my face, "Hey, it's gonna be alright. We're gonna get through this, we always do."

I nodded, "I know... it just sucks right now. You know, when we don't know shit about something and then some people have to die for us to eventually figure it out." He nodded in understanding. "Just...don't leave me, okay?" I said barely above a whisper.

I knew it sounded pathetic, and hell, maybe it was. But the last thing I wanted was to be alone right now. And the haunting feeling of losing him still lingered in the back of my mind.

He shook his head quickly, "Never." he promised before leaning in to kiss me gently.

I felt myself practically melt at the gesture as I allowed myself to have somewhat of a peaceful moment with him. A part of me felt bad that I needed his reassurance most of the time, but at the same time, I don't think he minded in the slightest. Clearly, he was in it for the long haul.

When we broke apart, he leaned down to rest his forehead against mine, "M' gonna start buryin our people."

I nodded slowly, "Okay. But where a mask, gloves...please stay safe."

"I will." he said as he rubbed his thumb along my bottom lip before kissing me briefly once more, then pulling away fully to head out and take care of everything.

I stood in that eerie hallway longer than I would ever like to admit, lost in my own thoughts with my arms wrapped around my middle. At this point, overthinking should become another one of my hobbies. I knew it was okay to worry, but I was going to start going bald soon if I kept my mind running constantly. At least that thought was enough to bring a small laugh out of me.

Eventually, I slowly made my way out of the hall and towards the cells where I knew Glenn was headed to. I stopped by and helped him clean out as many of them as possible just in case more people came in feeling sick suddenly. He accepted my help gratefully as he was nearly finished with the first one, both of us just needing something to do as somewhat of a distraction.

Though I noticed something small when the silence overcame us. We were changing some sheets on one of the mattresses when I noticed how he seemed to be breathing a bit heavier than before, trying to subtly wipe the sweat off of his forehead. No. No way.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked.

He looked up at me in slight surprise, like a deer in headlights almost. "Yeah?" he breathed, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, all we're doing is changing some sheets, and you're acting as if you just ran a marathon." I pointed out.

He huffed out a small laugh, "I'm okay Ro, really." he said with a wave of his hand, turning his gaze back down to tuck in his end of the bedding.

Though I kept staring at him in concern, I wasn't convinced in the slightest and he noticed, "Seriously...I'm okay." he tried again.

Eventually, I gave in and nodded my head as we continued on. Maybe I was just reading too much into everyone's moves right now since the situation was so severe, but I didn't want to take any chances. However, I never missed out of the corner of my eye, I would catch him wiping more sweat off of his face and glance over to see if I noticed. I always did, but he never seemed to catch on.

Once the two of us finally finished cleaning up the cells, I informed him I was going to go outside and get some air. We had been in the stuffy small rooms for far too long and it felt like I couldn't breathe, especially now with all the sick people air floating around.

The moment I stepped outside, the sun shined brightly down on my face and a relieved smile crossed my features. My eyes automatically closed as I tried to focus on the vitamin D I was receiving, but when I opened them again, I looked around and saw everyone's depressed faces. It was so much quieter today than it has been in a very long time, leaving everyone's spirits a little more crushed. My smile faded once again, and I noticed some were crying at the loss of their loved ones this morning. Shit this was heartbreaking.

My gaze then traveled out onto the field to see Rick and Daryl having a seemingly serious conversation. Ricks hands being firmly planted on his hips were a dead giveaway. But I wanted to check on him, having not seen him since this morning and I knew he was on edge just like everyone else. Even though he was no longer the so called "leader" anymore, I knew a part of him still felt responsible for this sort of thing.

As I got closer and further into the grass, I still couldn't make out what they were saying, but once Rick heard my footsteps, he turned around to face me. I gave him a small smile as I opened my mouth to say something, but then stopped short once I saw Daryl had his bandana dropped below his chin as he continued to dig.

"Hey," I called out to him, watching as he turned to face me the moment he heard my voice. I made a motion like I was pulling the mask up and he got the hint, pulling the cloth back over his face. Annoyance was still brewing in me however as I felt I hadn't gotten my point across yet, walking closer to smack him on the back of the head.

"Ow," he muttered, "What was that for?" I could hear him ask, although it was muffled by the material in front of his mouth.

"You told me you were going to be safe, and I find you out here with the mask down as you're burying the bodies." I spoke

He rubbed the spot where I hit him, "I was talkin to Rick, woman." he said defensively.

I raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look, "Sorry." he muttered quickly as he ducked his head, turning back to continue digging.

"Mhm." I hummed before turning back to Rick, seeing his lips pressed together as he tried not to laugh at the two of us, to which I rolled my eyes. "How're you doing?"

"Worried." he said simply, his brow creasing as he spoke, "And...I don't know. I don't think I should have a call on making this decision." 

"Rick, you've earned it." 

Daryl suddenly whipped around and pointed towards me, "That's what I said." he spoke excitedly.

"Ah, great minds think alike." I smiled before looking back towards Rick, "But seriously, you have. I'm not saying you should take all that responsibility back on your own, but at least be a part of it. We still need you; you know?" I said, gently nudging his arm with mine.

He smiled small at my reassurance, though he still looked to be on the fence about everything as a whole. But he didn't have the chance to respond even if he wanted to, as the next thing that was heard was a panicked yell that belonged to Maggie.

"Guys!" she screamed to get our attention, pointing back to one of the fences that the walkers were piling up on. We all saw how it was about to fall over with the amount of them pushing on it, bending it over as they practically crawled on top of each other to try and make it on the other side.

"Son of a bitch." I cursed and wasted no time running towards the fence, the other two hot on my heels.

As we ran closer and closer, I grabbed one of the crowbars that were lined up with the other weapons for killing them, in case things went south. Maggie frantically told us that the various noise recently only drew them closer and now this part of the fence was going to give out in a matter of seconds. Glenn, Sasha, and Ty came running quickly after us the moment they saw what was going down, and we all together tried to pick them off.

I stabbed through their heads harshly, watching one by one as they fell to the ground, everyone else scattering around as they did the same. Daryl stood back slightly as he shot bolts through their heads, but it hardly looked like any of us were making any progress. There was too many of them for us to even begin to make a dent through.

All of a sudden Sasha called out, "Are you seeing this?" causing us all to stop momentarily to see what she was talking about.

I stood on one side of her, and my mouth fell open at the amount of dead rats that were left by part of the fence. They all were missing heads as the rest of their bodies were still intact which confused me yet made me sick at the same time. That alone explained how the walker build-up happened all at once and so fast, the hunger they felt overtaking them as they smelled the fresh blood.

"Is someone feeding these things?" she asked.

"I don't know." I muttered with widened eyes.

The fence then suddenly started squeaking more as they shoved their way though, "Heads up!" Daryl yelled as he watched from a distance.

We all quickly went back to our spots to take each of them out once more, but far too many of them began using all their weight on it as it was leaning further into us. At this rate it was going to give out with the number of dead ones surrounding it. We stopped trying to kill them once the realization hit all of us, beginning to push the fence back all together so it wouldn't completely collapse. We weren't successful however, and they were still too strong.

"Back up, back up! It's coming down!" Daryl yelled as he quickly yanked me back to where he was standing, the rest jumping back in shock.

"The fence keeps bending in like that, those walkers are coming over it." Sasha said frantically.

Rick's eyes darted around as his mind continued to spiral, though suddenly, a lightbulb appeared on top of his head. He called for Daryl, nodding for him to follow as he rushed back towards the entrance as I hoped he had some kind of plan. The rest of us were left to fight them off until the last possible second. 

Sweat pooled on my skin and my muscles ached as I held up a part of the fence while Maggie killed the ones off right next to my head. I felt my arms begin to shake as my body grew far more tired than I wanted it to, gritting my teeth together as I planted my feet down in attempts to steady myself. But the weight suddenly seemed to subside a bit, looking over to see Tyreese on my right, helping me hold up my end as he clearly saw me struggling. He gave me a small smile in the process, causing me to look over at him with nothing but gratitude.

My head then lifted as I watched a familiar truck peel out of the front gates, Rick sitting in the bed of it while Daryl drove like a bat out of hell towards us. The vehicle then came to a sudden stop a good distance away from the fence, watching closely as Rick visibly hesitated as the walkers began to take notice of them from just behind their heads. The man then snapped out of it and took one of the pigs in his hold, slicing part of its leg so it couldn't run before dropping it down on the grass for the walkers.

I cringed at the squealing sounds that the animal was making, but we all knew that it had to be done, and it looked to be working. He repeated this motion until the many walkers made their way further and further from the fence, watching as it slowly rose back up once their attention was diverted away from us.

We were now able to put back the wooden planks to prop the fence back up to a level height, leaving it almost completely bent it half after the damage the dead ones did. I stopped to take a breath once I saw we had moved it up enough, my eyes panning back over to see Rick cutting the last pig he had before dropping it, and even I could tell from this far away, it hurt him just as much as the rest of us.

Stepping slightly away from the whole scene, I saw Maggie staring at the squealing animal with sadness behind her eyes, nearly crying as the sounds intensified. 

"Come on." I spoke to grab her attention, gesturing for her to follow me.

She nodded and wrapped an arm around my shoulders so we could walk back up to the prison together, trying to just get through the rest of this long day.

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist - @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit

[madamecalypso]

So I decided to make this a series named "The deer 🦌 and the Crow 🐦‍⬛"

I already have a plot in mind to be honest but most will just be memories with Alastor versus the present for now.

So without further ado here's part 2....

Vulnerability

You hated this time of the year. You could even say you despise it to be honest. Being a sinner with wings has its disadvantages.

And one of them is...molting. But you thank Lucifer for its clockwork arrival, always weeks before the annual extermination. Due to this, you always hide by yourself to ensure that everything will go well and your co-residents will not worry. You hate making them worry as this usually brings unwanted memories to the surface.

You gently spread out your ebony wings as you made a nest in the middle of the grand room. The lights outside shinning on you. You sigh sadly as you motion for your right wing closer to you and start plucking the old and detached feathers.

This marks the first year that he went and left you. The first year that the Radio Demon vanished from Pentagram city without a trace. The first year when he was not here to help you.

You remembered the first time he helped you, you were so shy to let Alastor touch your wings. Yet he insisted after berating you for not sharing this need after the years of your friendship.

"A service worthy to ensure your perfection mon corbeau....you really should let me service you sometimes"

As he worked on your wings he would often tell what he was when alive but never the cause of his death. He oftentimes would share the story Rosie spoke to him, how nifty is doing nowadays or how Husk got irritated with one of his demands.

You would listen to his stories with no distractions. Absorbing everything like a sponge. You love hearing him speak and you never tire hearing it. His voice was really made for radio. Without the usual filter he uses, you can hear the raw and true voice of Alastor. The one he reserved just for you.

You also remembered that this may also be the day that you realized that you are falling in love with the Radio Demon.

His touch was always soft when it comes to your wings, quite different on how he handled other sinners or Overlords whenever he brought carnage. You would always smile whenever he meticulously checked each feather to ensure their integrity. There are times that he would also slap your hand away whenever you try to help.

"You are so good with this Al....I hope you will always do this for me every year"

You whispered one day thinking he would not hear. But he did as his smile widened.

"Mon corbeau...this is nothing I would be willing to do to keep you beside me"

You also remember the kiss. The kiss on your forehead he always leaves when he's done. The same kiss that evokes emotions and longing for him. The same kiss that you often wish he would leave on your lips instead. The gentle gesture he would leave after everything was said and done.

But everything is just a memory now. He's no longer here. He left you alone. His promises are broken. His words are now merely an echo.

You are starting to understand that you became dependent with him from the years you were together. The pain of him leaving is still fresh on you. He was the one who saved you after all, the one who guided you for all those years. The one who you thought would never leave.

You still have the note he left. The note has become a symbol of your broken devotion. You clutch the note every time your heart aches. Every time you miss Alastor’s presence. Every time you miss his voice, his teasing, his playful words, the gentle kindness he offers but has hidden it's lies and deceit.

As your tears start to fall, your mind starts to wander once more why he left you. Till now everyone was surprised by his disappearance.

"Querida por qué lloras? You know I hate tears in those beautiful eyes"

You immediately wiped your tears as you looked behind you. It was Valentino with a worried expression on his face, one that you don't often see. His sleek masculine form dressed in an overflowing red coat started walking towards you after seeing the fallen feathers.

"Val..I told you to not come here" you muttered annoyed but the moth demon only walked closer and sat beside you.

"Vox and Velvette are worried about you birdie...and they know that you would only hide from them." Valentino lit his cigarette catching a drag, red smoke blows from his mouth before offering it to you, which you gently took.

"It's time for my feathers to shed and I needed space to think as well" You answered as your tears fell again, annoyance with him gone.

Pink eyes started to narrow on your form as he wrapped his arms around you. "You should know that you're no longer alone amorcita, we are here. Vox would lose a circuit if he found you like this"

"I'm glad that Vox cared for me after he left, I thought he was just enduring my presence before. And Velvette's addition still brings happiness to me but sometimes I think I'm just slowing you guys" You sadly spoke as you looked at Valentino.

"That's where you're wrong dearest..how many times must I prove it to you?" A third and familiar voice spoke behind you. Vox having entered the room walked closer to also sit on your other side.

"You may have lost that pompous ass but you gained us..someone far superior, someone who would never leave you" he boasted which caused you and Valentino to roll your eyes. "You don't slow us dearest...you empower us. We just need to build the confidence that you had before"

"But Voxxy is right amor, so dry your eyes...a gem like you should never cry"

You gently smiled and you nodded before Valentino kissed your left cheek and started to move behind you to look at your wings. "From now on we will be the one to care for you"

Vox on the other hand touches your face as he leans for a kiss. Each kiss he brings is always a new sensation to you. He's soft and sensual which makes your heart flutter. He gently broke the kiss for a quick second as a wide grin stretches on his face before he leans in again. His talon-like fingers gently slide down the side of your face to your neck.

You don't know what kind of relationship you all have, but they are willing to provide the care that you yearn for. The affection that you once wished was given by Alastor.

Valentino on the other hand was busy attending to your wings with a mischievous smile on his face.

The Vees will build an empire that's for sure. They will spread their power and authority and change the status quo. They will do all of that and more since that's what you deserve.

He anticipates how you would grow with them beside you. You are already an enigma while still under the servitude for the Radio Demon. Now that you're a free bird, you'll transform. He couldn't wait to see you flourish, their dearest gem... a valuable creature tossed away by her master.

And whoever will try to take you away will die by their hands.

Can't wait to expand this story. Gosh, I don't even know how to use Tumblr.

But I'll learn one step at a time.

Will post what the reader looks like soon...

Kisses darling!..

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: Tommy needs Lucy more than ever after a devastating blow is dealt that will send shockwaves throughout the entire family and empire that he has built.

Word Count: 6,936

Warnings: Major character death, suicide baiting, grief, suicide/death pact, and references to past suicide attempts.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 21: A Thousand Tears

“Mr. Shelby? Miss. Winters?” Frances asked, eyes questioning and confused when they came in.

“Would some breakfast be possible, Frances?” Arthur asked. 

“It’s already set up in the dining room, Mr. Shelby. Mrs. Shelby and the children aren’t up yet, but I would expect that they will be soon.”

Lucy followed Arthur into the dining room, where he began to pile a plate high with eggs and sausage.

“You should eat,” he told her when she made no move towards the table.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry to bother you again.” Frances appeared in the doorway. “But Charlie Strong just called.”

“I’ll get it.” Lucy was already moving towards the hall that led to the study. She closed the door behind her, walking over to the heavy wooden desk and picking up the phone from its cradle. “Charlie?”

“Lucy? Is that you? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s busy at the moment.”

“What the hell happened last night?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“You don’t know?”

Her mind had been turning over every possible person who could have spilled the information about the assassination. Anyone who was at the last family meeting was a possible leak. She knew that it wasn’t her, Tommy, or Arthur. Certainly not Aberama considering he was dead.

But that still left a lot of people who potentially could have blabbed.

“Tommy, Arthur, and I are working it out,” she tried to assure him.

“Johnny said that some of our people are dead.”

“Listen,” she walked over to look out the window. “I’ll call you when we have some information to share, alright? Keep the yard locked down for now. You’ll hear from us soon.” She froze, eyes focusing on the tall figure walking out of the house and towards the fields in the same direction that Tommy had gone. “I have to go, Charlie.”

“Now, wait just a second–”

She hung up the phone and rushed out of the room.

“Where is Lizzie going?” she demanded. Arthur looked up from his plate.

“I told her that Tom went to walk by the fields.”

Spinning on her heel, Lucy went quickly for the door.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go after them–”

“Stay here. Stay inside. Don’t let the children come outside.”

She ignored Arthur’s further attempts to call after her, jogging out the door and towards the fields. The whole area was covered in such thick fog, she could barely see a few inches in front of her face. Her shoes sunk into the mud all the way up to her ankles, causing her to stagger and wobble at the way it stuck and sucked at her feet. There was a bone-chilling, agonized scream from somewhere in front of her, the click of what sounded like an unloaded gun being fired. The thud of something falling into the mud. Lucy broke into a run, or the best that she could manage at one with the wet soil tugging at her shoes. She focused on the ground until she found the outline of shoes in the dirt and followed them. Somewhere, a significant way in front of her, she heard the hum of Lizzie’s voice. 

“You’re not even a soldier anymore, Tommy. You didn’t check your weapon. You’re not a soldier, you’re a coward. I heard you pull the trigger. Leaving your family behind without a goodbye. If you still need a way out, here are six of them.” The sound of clinking metal punctuated her words as bullets were tossed to the ground. Lizzie’s voice radiated nothing but complete and utter contempt and disgust. 

The squelch of footsteps in the mud began to grow louder, until finally Lizzie emerged from the fog, freezing to stare at Lucy, eyes widening a fraction. Lucy tilted her head to the side.

A cold sort of rage washed over her, quiet and dangerous, leaving her nearly trembling with it. Before she could even process her own movements, her hand flew out, striking Lizzie hard across the cheek. The woman’s hand flew to her face, mouth gaping at Lucy in shock from the slap. Lucy took a step back, looking at Lizzie almost as if also in surprise at her own actions. All the rage and resentment that she had kept bottled up toward Lizzie, locked tight in a box in the far recesses of her mind, came pouring out in one great rush.

How miserable Lizzie had made both her and Tommy. After all they’d done to try to make their situation as tolerable for her as possible. Of course they’d made mistakes, but she had known what she was getting herself into. No one had ever forced her into anything. And yet she turned around and hated them for it all the same; played at being the victim, when she had been nothing but an active participant in the misery that the three of them shared. 

And now she stood there, over Lucy’s lover as he laid in the mud, the gun he’d had pressed to his head a moment ago still grasped in his hand, and threw bullets at him while taunting him to try again. 

Lucy could tolerate being kicked by Lizzie over and over. Deep down she believed that she deserved it. But her going after Tommy in such a way, striking at him when he was already down, was not something Lucy would ever be able to tolerate. 

No one touched him or hurt him like that. Not on her watch. 

“Go back to the house and stay there,” her voice was level and quiet, but even she could hear the dangerous remnants of rage in it. “Don’t come back out. Don’t let the children go outside. Don’t even let Arthur go outside. When we come back, you will not speak to me. You will not speak to Tommy. Not until I say that you can.”

There were a thousand things that she wanted to say to Lizzie, to scream at her until she was hoarse. There was even the temptation to grab her by the back of the head, throw her to the ground, and shove her face down into the mud. 

Lizzie continued to stare at her, clutching her reddening cheek, eyes frightened. Lucy jerked her head.

“Go. Now.”  

The taller woman pulled herself to her full height, chin held high, jaw clenched. Before she walked around Lucy and back towards the house. 

With a deep, slow breath, she forced herself to let the anger go. Before it burned her up and consumed her from the inside out. She could deal with Lizzie more thoroughly later. Right now, Tommy needed her. When she turned away from watching Lizzie leave, she was met with another figure. White shirt blending into the fog, the wind ruffling her blonde hair. 

“You tried to take him from me,” Lucy said. Grace smiled sadly, apologetically.

“I’m sorry.”

Lucy just sighed. “Take me to him?” she asked softly. Grace nodded and turned wordlessly, guiding her through the mist.

The fog was so thick, she didn’t even see Tommy until she was practically colliding with him, grasping at the front of his shirt in surprise. Half of his body was covered entirely in mud, no doubt where he had fallen. In one hand, he was clutching the empty gun. In the other, a handful of the bullets Lizzie had thrown at him.

“Lucy.”

He looked smaller than usual, huddled in his suit jacket, tear tracks clear on the side of his face not drenched in mud. He was shaking, unable to meet her eyes.

“Tommy,” she cupped the side of his face not caked with dirt. “Oh, love.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, body wracked with a violet sob. Shaking her head, Lucy pulled him tightly into her arms, not caring that he was getting mud all over her. He buried his face in her shoulder, arms going around her waist. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” was being chanted over and over again like a mantra. She stroked at his back and hair, practically holding him up with how hard he was crying.

“It’s alright, love. It’s alright. I’ve got you,” she rocked him gently from side to side. But she didn’t shush his sobs. The poor man probably needed to have a good cry.

It could have been hours or only minutes, she wasn’t sure, but Tommy eventually quieted. Lucy turned her head, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Okay?” 

He nodded. She knew better than to believe that he was truly alright, but at least she could be relatively confident that she’d gotten him stabilized enough to keep him from doing anything rash. He pulled away from her and she frowned, tugging a handkerchief from her pocket and attempting to wipe away the mud on his face.

“Close your eyes.”

He did as she asked, so she could clean his face without fear of getting mud in his sad, beautiful blue orbs. He opened them and looked down at himself.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, and under any other circumstances it would have been quite funny, to see the look of utter disgust take over his face as he fully took in his current state of being. Completely and utterly caked with mud. Lucy wrapped an arm around his waist to help support his uneasy steps and, rather gingerly, they began the trek back to the house. 

The phone in the study was ringing when they arrived, Frances was there to greet them, but quickly scampered off at Lucy’s gesture for her to leave them.

They staggered into the study, Tommy dumping the gun and bullets onto the desk before picking up the phone. He tilted it a bit where it rested against his ear so that she could listen in.

Lizzie came storming into the office, but one look at Lucy’s face and a small shake of her head and she remained silent, just standing in the corner with her arms crossed over her chest. Together, Lucy and Tommy listened quietly as the woman on the phone spoke to them of how the IRA had been the ones to thwart the assassination. And that the truck pulling up on the front drive was there to deliver to them the three bodies of their dead.         

Three. Three? Two of them had to be Aberama and Barney, but who was the third?

She followed Tommy back outside, to where the three bodies had been spread out on the driveway. They were each wrapped in white sheets and twine. Tommy pulled a knife from his pocket and crouched down over one, cutting away the twine. He pulled away the material covering the face.

Barney.

He moved to the next body and repeated the process.

Aberama.

To the third, then. She could see Lizzie watching from the window. Anxiety churned in Lucy’s guts, mind racing to try to figure out who it could be that was wrapped up in that white sheet.

Tommy pulled away the material, just enough to uncover the face.

Lucy staggered away for a moment, chest shuddering, too shocked to even be able to make a sound. Tommy clasped a hand over his mouth. His face crumpled with horrified grief and guilt. He turned to look at her in desperation before turning away, a hand over his eyes as he began to shake with sobs. With unsteady steps, Lucy stumbled forward. She looped her arms around Tommy, pulling him close so that he could turn his face to cry into her stomach. Silent tears rolled down her own cheeks.

As she stared down at the lifeless face of Polly Gray.     

∗ ∗ ∗

She watched Tommy with increasing worry, fingers toying with her rings, lip caught between her teeth. He was sitting at his desk, staring vacantly at nothing, one hand holding a smoking cigarette but not bringing it to his lips. There was something dead and empty in his eyes that had her worry tripling. 

She and Polly had never really seen eye to eye, or gotten along much at all for that matter. At least not until towards the very end. But Lucy knew how massively important she had always been to Tommy. 

He had already been so raw from the failure of the assassination plan, Lucy feared for what this would do to his already fragile mental state. She could see him blaming himself, starting to tailspin out of control down a dark abyss of self hatred. 

The day had passed in a blur after they uncovered the bodies sent to their doorstep. Arthur was in hysterics the moment he saw Polly laid out on the drive, Lizzie’s face pale and horror stricken at the window. 

Tommy hadn’t been in any state to give orders. So Lucy had taken it upon herself. She set Lizzie to work calling everyone and telling them the news. She’d have done it, but she was afraid to leave Tommy’s side for that long. She feared that her presence was the only thing keeping him from raising his pistol to his temple again. And this time he knew to check to make sure that the chambers weren’t empty. 

Most of the family had come to the house once they heard the news. Most were quiet in their mourning, sipping whiskey and speaking in low voices where they gathered in one of the sitting rooms. Ada–to Lucy’s great relief–took charge of handling Arthur before he hurt himself. She could only handle one suicidal Shelby brother on her own at a time, and Tommy was always her priority.

The only problem was Michael.

He’d gone into the room where they’d laid out Polly’s body, alone, and didn’t come out for a long while. And when he did, he made a beeline for Tommy, screaming, roaring in his face, spittle flying from his lips, threats and curses echoing throughout the room. It took her, Charlie Strong, and Johnny Dogs to all wrestle him off of him. And Lizzie had to threaten to throw him out of the house to get him to stop shouting. He’d spat at Tommy’s feet and stormed off into another room with Gina, and they hadn’t seen them since.      

Throughout the entire altercation, Tommy made no move or attempt to defend himself, simply standing there, staring at Michael miserably. Lucy had a feeling that if Michael had tried to kill him, Tommy would have let him. 

It was late. Darkness had fallen outside, blanketing the grounds in pitch black. 

Shadow was laid out at Tommy’s feet. He’d been hovering by him ever since Lucy finally managed to shepherd him back into the house. When Tommy retreated into the office shortly after Michael confronted him, Shadow had followed him. He’d plucked up one of his toys from the floor, carrying it in his mouth over to Tommy and dropping it at his feet, nudging at his legs with his nose to try to get him to play. When Tommy made no acknowledgement of him, Shadow had started crying softly, going to Lucy and even trying to herd her with little nips and nudges at her heels towards him, before finally laying down next to Tommy, watching him with worried big brown eyes. 

Such a good boy. Always looking out for them. 

Trouble was also agitated. She kept rubbing herself against Tommy’s legs, meowing up at him curiously and hovering nearby, green eyes focused on him intently. 

Both animals clearly had picked up on their owners’ distress. Lucy couldn’t help but note how the clinginess that they had shown towards her after she’d first arrived home from the hospital had transferred over to Tommy. Like they knew that each of them had tried to take their own lives.  

Probably, at least on some level, they did. 

“Tommy,” she took a tentative step closer to him. He didn’t respond. She was starting to worry that his still burning cigarette would burn all the way down until it singed his fingers and he wouldn’t even notice. “Love,” she slid her hand into his hair, palm laying flat against the back of his skull. She managed to convince him to change out of his muddied clothes and take a quick bath to get the lingering dirt off his body before everyone had started showing up. He’d laid back in the tub, eyes staring up at the ceiling while she sat on a stool beside him and he let her wash him. His hair was soft and smelled nice from the soaps she’d lathered in it, fingers working carefully to massage the crusting dirt from the dark strands without pulling on them. 

Again, she was struck at how sharply their positions had reversed from where they’d been only a few days ago. 

Going to perch on the desk in front of him, she took the cigarette from between his fingers, stubbing it out in the ashtray and caressing the side of his face. 

There was a soft knock on the door. Lucy sighed. 

“Come.”

The door opened, and Lizzie slipped in. “Ada finally got Arthur to go to sleep.”

Lucy let out a breath of relief. “Good.”

“Pretty much everyone else is heading to bed. I told them they could all stay in the spare rooms, if they liked. Ada said that she would sleep in Arthur’s room with him. To make sure he doesn’t get up in the middle of the night and…you know.”

“Good.”

“And…Charlie says that he’s found a wagon that he thinks will be suitable.”

Lucy swallowed hard. “Right. Assuming nothing changes, I think we can still plan on lighting the fire tomorrow, then.”

Lizzie took a step forward, holding out an envelope. “Johnny Dogs came back with this.”

Lucy hopped off the desk and went to take it from her. She turned it around, flicked it open and checked the contents inside. Satisfied, she tucked the envelope away into her pocket. “Are Michael and Gina still up?”

“I think so. They’re in the west sitting room.”

“Right,” she hesitated, glancing over at Tommy. Trouble had hopped up to curl in his lap. She didn’t want to leave him, but they had both agreed that this needed to be done, and she didn’t trust anyone else to do it. 

Lizzie noticed her nerves. “I can stay with him,” she offered, voice lowering so only Lucy could hear.

Lucy frowned, remembering the bullets Lizzie had thrown at him.

“I promise that I won’t…” Lizzie sighed. “I’m sorry for what I did out there in the field. It wasn’t right.”

Lucy eyed her carefully. “I’m sorry that I slapped you,” she said finally. To her surprise, Lizzie just shrugged with a small smile.

“Call it even?”

Lucy frowned, unsure if she would ever entirely be able to forget Lizzie baiting the love of her life into trying to shoot himself again. But she couldn’t be fighting with Lizzie right now. Plus, they’d finally managed to get to an at least somewhat good place with each other. She shouldn’t throw that away. For everyone’s sake. 

“Alright.” Walking around the desk, she bent to kiss Tommy’s forehead. “I’m gonna go deal with Michael and Gina, love. I’ll be right back.”

His face turned to her, hand shooting out to grab her arm. “Be careful.”

“I will. Don’t worry.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I’ll only be a minute,” she told Lizzie, who had plopped down onto the loveseat and lit a cigarette.  

She made her way to the sitting room with hurried steps, fingers flexing at her sides. Without bothering to knock, she blew through the door, striding in to find Michael and Gina standing together by the window, speaking in hushed voices. Their heads whipped around when she came in, immediately going silent. Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Scheming again, are we?”

Michael scowled. “What do you want, demon?”

“You know,” she stepped deeper into the room. There was an untouched plate of little appetizers that Frances must have brought for them at some point. Lucy plucked one up and popped it into her mouth. “I take that title as a compliment.” 

Hands shoving into her pockets, she leaned against the wall, looking over the pair of would-be-usurpers lazily. 

“You can stay for the funeral,” she said slowly. “But then you need to leave. I think it’s well past time you both returned to America, eh?”

Gina’s lips curled back from her teeth. “How dare you try to tell us–”

“If it were up to me,” Lucy talked right over her. She didn’t even really pay the little brat any mind at all, her gaze fixed squarely on Michael. “We’d have slit both your throats and sunk you in the canal the second after you proposed that fucking restructuring of the company. But Tommy, in honor of your mother’s memory, has decided to be merciful.” Reaching into her pocket, she tossed the envelope Lizzie had given her onto the table between them. “That’s two tickets for the train to Liverpool, and two tickets for a ship departing for New York in two days’ time. First class, of course.”

Michael didn’t look at the envelope. Instead he merely stared at her, eyes burning with hatred. 

“It’s his fault she’s dead.”

“No. It was the IRA and fascists who killed her, Michael.”

“Yeah, and he’s doing fuck all to punish them for it!”

“It’s been less than twenty four hours since he was weeping over her body in the driveway. What do you expect him to have done in that time?” A scoff left her lips, shaking her head. “Petulant child. All you’re looking for is an excuse to kill him and steal his throne. It’s what you’ve been planning from the beginning, right? Since you came back from America, if not before. And now you’re grasping for a justification of it. Because you need to convince yourself that she wouldn’t have hated you for trying to hurt Tommy. But let’s not pretend that killing him wasn’t what you were planning to do long before Polly was dead, Michael.”

Michael’s jaw worked. “She would have chosen me.”

Lucy chuckled, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe. I guess we’ll never really know, will we?” 

Michael broke eye contact with her, looking away with his nostrils flaring. 

Lucy cocked her head. “She always loved your sister more than you.” She saw the blow hit. The way that Michael flinched almost imperceptibly at it. Good. She was done playing nice. She wanted to hurt him.

Taking a step forward, she drew herself to her full height, schooling her features into the immovable mask of cold sternness and wrath that was the Red Demon. 

“As a result of your attempts to undermine and usurp the boss, and your repeated defiance, petulance, and incompetence, you are no longer a member of this Shelby family. By order of the Peaky Blinders. We do not trust you. And we do not want you here. You are to leave after the funeral, or I am free to deal with both of you as I see fit.” 

Michael’s expression was one of complete, burning fury. He seemed to be shaking a little with it. But he made no movement towards her, nor tried to argue against her declaration. Lucy held eye contact with him for a few more beats, then turned and walked from the room without another word. 

When she returned to the office, it was to find Tommy and Lizzie still there. Trouble was batting around a ball of yarn across the rug that Lizzie must have set out for her. Both Tommy and Lizzie were watching her quite intently. They looked up when Lucy came in. 

“It’s done.”

“It went alright?” Tommy asked, tapping a fresh cigarette into the ashtray. 

“As well as can be expected.”

“Right,” Lizzie stood. “I’m going to go check that the children are asleep and then I’m going to bed. Unless either of you need anything?”

They both shook their heads.

“Alright,” she went to the desk, giving Tommy a peck on the forehead and then turning to Lucy, bending to kiss her cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” they both mumbled after her. 

Once she was gone, Lucy went to Tommy, sliding her arms around his shoulders and tucking her face into his neck. 

“It’s late. Let’s go to bed, hm? Come on.” Entwining their fingers together, she pulled him from his chair and led him to the door. Behind them, she heard the soft pad of Shadow and Trouble’s paws trailing after them.  

She took him to her room, closing the door once both Shadow and Trouble slipped in after them, then thought of Michael still lurking in the house somewhere, and locked it. Just in case.

With numb, almost automated movements, Tommy took off all his clothes save for his underwear and climbed into bed. Lucy wondered if he even was aware of what he was doing, or if he merely was running on instinct while his mind dissociated somewhere very far away. Stripping down to her knickers, she decided it was too much work to root around her wardrobe for one of her nightgowns, instead merely snagging one of his soft cotton Henley’s and pulling that on. When she turned back to the bed, Tommy was sitting there, legs half drawn up to his chest and his back bent, playing with his fingers and watching her with eyes full of deep longing and sorrow. 

Checking one last time that the animals were tucked away in their respective beds, she climbed into her side of the big bed, reaching over the flick off the light. Shifting to recline against the pillows, she fixed her gaze on Tommy’s figure next to her, still hunched over, twiddling with his fingers. When she curled her hand around his shoulder to try to get his attention, she found his skin to be a little clammy. He sighed, letting her coax him to lay down beside her. In the dark, she could just make out the way that he was staring up at the canopy, lips trembling and throat flexing. Moments away from crying. 

It hurt her to see him like this. So broken and devastated beyond belief. 

“Come here, love,” she pulled him into her arms, his head resting on her chest. She began to card her fingers through his thick dark hair, hoping it would help to soothe him. She was under no illusions that he probably wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight–neither of them would. 

His shoulders started to shake, arms going around her, and suddenly a ragged, broken sob tore from his throat, sounding like he had tried to stifle it but failed.

“Tommy…”

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, clinging to her tightly, body half collapsing in on itself with the force of his cries. “I’m so, so sorry, Lucy. Please don’t leave me. Please, please. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. Just please…” he looked up at her, expression laid bare, completely vulnerable and pleading. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

Tears welled into her own eyes, taking hold of both of his cheeks. “I won’t. I won’t, I promise. I’ll never leave you again.”

“I love you so much,” he hiccupped, burrowing deeper against her, as if he were trying to meld them into one being. “I need you.” 

“I love you too. I love you more than anything, Tommy,” she shushed him gently, tightening her hold on him. “I know. I know. It’s okay.” Kissing the top of his head, she nuzzled into him and rubbed his back, lump in her throat growing at his quiet cries against her chest. She could feel the dampness of his tears seeping into her skin. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Throughout the entire night, he wept in her arms, and the whole time, she held him as tightly as she could. Until his sobs gave way to quiet crying, to sniffles, and finally he fell into a fitful sleep against her. 

Lucy remained awake, a little afraid to fall asleep in case he woke in the middle of the night and needed her. 

Was this what he had felt like after she’d cut her wrists? No wonder he’d been reluctant to let her out of his sight since then. 

She squeezed him a little tighter, both out of wanting to comfort him even in his sleep, and out of guilt for what she’d put him through.   

Silver moonlight was filtering in through a crack in the curtains.

 It caught and glinted briefly against the gold of his wedding ring, where it rested on the hand he had settled on her hip. She stared at it numbly. 

She had almost completely forgotten the train ticket that she’d purchased. Still likely hidden under the mattress in her room at Charlie’s. She doubted that anyone had found it yet. But   dealing with getting the train and ship tickets for Michael and Gina had reminded her of it. 

She could not leave him. Not after everything that had just happened. Not when she knew that he still loved her and wanted her in his life. Not when she still loved him. And certainly not after it was just all but confirmed to her that she was still the only one able and willing to take care of him. There had been a time when she thought that maybe Lizzie would actually be up to the task, but that was before she’d openly tossed bullets at him mere moments after he tried to shoot himself. 

She could not trust Lizzie. Not with this. Not with Tommy’s life and wellbeing. 

But could she live with the guilt that remaining would bring? It would never be completely smooth sailing with Lizzie. And she still felt the burn of self hatred for what she’d put her through. What she continued to put her through. Would she be able to let that go? To allow herself to be at peace with the choices they’d made and not forever seek to punish herself for the crime of being the recipient of Tommy’s love? 

She honestly didn’t know. She supposed she would have to, if she wanted to stay. It was that or be torn apart by guilt and self hatred. 

He’d promised that he would help her. All she had to do was let him. 

Let it go, Lucy. Let the guilt go, and be happy.

In his sleep, Tommy turned over, eyes still closed. “Lucy?”

She shifted closer, squeezing her arms around him. “I’m right here.”

“Mm,” he nuzzled into her chest. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t, sweetheart,” she promised, kissing his forehead. “I won’t leave you alone.”

He snuffled, then settled back down into sleep. Lucy kissed his temple and settled more heavily into the mattress, with him still clutched tightly in her arms.  

∗ ∗ ∗

The smoke barely cleared from the funeral wagon and Tommy was pulling away, turning to stride off into the trees. Lizzie called for him quietly, a hand reaching out to try to grasp at his shoulder but he shook her off, not even turning to look at her. Lucy waited only a small beat before following him, keeping her eyes trained on the ground in front of her, not wanting to have to deal with the rest of the family’s gaze that she was sure was fixed upon them.

He had come to a stop at a small creek, settled down on a rock with his gloved hands clasped in front of him. Lucy sat herself carefully down beside him, her shoulder brushing his gently. This was better. In the quiet of nature, without the tears of the family or Michael’s furious eyes.

They all were likely convening now, muttering to themselves about how heartless their patriarch was, unable to shed a tear even at his own aunt’s funeral.

They had not been there, when he pulled the cloth away to reveal Polly’s lifeless eyes. They had not seen as his buried his face in his hands and wept. How she’d had to put her arms around him for fear that if she didn’t he would collapse completely.  

Now her small hand looped around him to rub at one strong shoulder. Tommy sighed heavily, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, body drooping. Lucy let her head settle on his shoulder. She was hit with a sudden wave of deja vu, of memories of sitting with him alone outside in the dark near Arrow House. On those nights after Grace died and neither of them could stand to be in that mansion for one more minute. They would sit, their arms around one another, often both quietly weeping as they watched the flames of the fire they’d built dance before them. 

How cruel this world was to make them bury so many that they loved. 

“Fuck,” Tommy mumbled, lifting his head from where he bowed it. Lucy hummed softly and closed her eyes. Tommy shook his head and leaned back, blue eyes gazing at the sky. “Everyone I love dies.”

She sat up, head lifting from its home on his shoulder. She didn’t know what to say to make any of this better. She knew that he felt cursed; that his presence did nothing but bring misery and pain to everyone he cared about. 

“Not me,” she replied hoarsely. And not for lack of trying, either. With how many close brushes with death she had managed to survive, she was beginning to think that maybe she really was unkillable like some of the people in Small Heath whispered. Tommy glanced down at her with those devastated eyes. She cracked a tiny smile, “Apparently I’m gonna live forever.”

His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. He tucked a red lock of hair behind her ear, thumb rubbing along her cheek. Turning her head, her eyes peered up at him. He continued to pet her cheek, his expression dropping as he stared at her.

“Did I ruin your life?”

Startled by the question, her brows furrowed, immediately shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t even have a life if it weren’t for you.” 

Tommy looked at her with such heartbreakingly sad eyes that it made her chest ache to just look at them.

“I could have protected you from Matthew and your father without dragging you into any of this. You could have had a good, normal, easy life somewhere.” He looked back at the creek, eyes tracking the way that the water rushed past, carrying bits of leaves and debris with it.

“Boring,” she remarked with a click of her tongue. Her head cocked curiously. “Why didn’t you?”

“I liked you,” he shrugged. “You made me feel…I didn’t have to be Thomas Shelby with you. I could just be Tommy.” He glanced back at her again. “You were pretty. And smart. And loyal. And you intrigued me. I wanted to keep you close.”

“Am I not still all of those things?” she teased lightly.

“You know what I mean,” he chastised in a failed attempt to hide his amusement. She grasped his arm, lifting it to wrap around her shoulders, snuggling into his warm side. Her gloved hand stroked his jaw.

“If I had the chance to go back to when I made that deal with you on the bridge, I wouldn’t change a thing,” her forehead rested against his. “Not one bit of it.”

“I love you.” 

Her eyes fluttered. “I love you, too.”

They sat there for a while, listening to the birds chirp and the brook babble. 

“Are we going to try to kill Mosley again?”

“No.”

She was a little taken aback at how immediate his response was. “No?”

He shook his head furiously. “These people who stopped us this time…clearly they want very badly to keep him alive.” His arm tightened a little around her. “I can’t lose anymore of you.” 

Understandable, and she knew better than to try to push the matter. At least not right now. She’d still like to see the fascist bastard bleed, sometime. 

“I’ve decided to stop drinking.” 

She jerked. “You what?”

He nodded, slowly. “It’s been addling my mind. Keeping me from thinking as clearly. And…”

She shifted a little closer to him, raising an eyebrow curiously. “And…?” she coaxed. 

Tommy looked at her softly. Regretfully. “It almost lost me you. If I hadn’t been so drunk that night Lizzie came to me with her deal, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to it.”

She reached up to cup his face, resting her forehead on his. “I’ll quit with you. Solidarity.”  

His lips twitched upwards. “You don’t have to…”

“It’s alright. It would probably be good for my liver, anyway.” She gave him a stern look. “I’m not giving up smoking, though.” 

“Oh, absolutely not.”

She giggled, pecking his lips. When she pulled back, he was smiling at her softly, thumb rubbing against her cheek.

He hesitated, wetting his lips, smile falling, one hand sliding down to dip under the left sleeve of her coat, stroking his fingertips across the bandages on her wrists. The pain in his eyes doubled. Lucy leaned closer to him. 

“Stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” she mumbled, shaking her head. Tommy’s eyes snapped up to hers. 

“You–”

“Massively overreacted? Yeah, something like that.”

He shook his head. “You were in pain. It…It wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t yours either.”

“I wasn’t there for you…”

“You were trying to be. I was the one who kept shutting you out.” With a sigh, she drew her knees in closer to her chest. It was chilly out there in the middle of the woods. Her hand began to stroke along his arm. “What about you?”

“Hm?” 

“You held a gun to your head, Tommy.” She swallowed dryly around the words. The way he had screamed while she was searching for him in the mist still haunted her. Visions of variations of that moment, where Arthur didn’t think to take the bullets out, ran through her mind. The crack of gunfire. The splatter of brains meeting dirt. The thud of his lifeless body hitting the ground.

She huddled in closer to him, slipping a hand into his coat to more distinctly feel the warmth of his body. A reminder that he was still there with her.  

“I’m alright.”

“Very convincing, love,” she huffed sarcastically. “Just promise me that you aren’t…” she choked on the words, closing her eyes. “Promise me you aren’t going to try to do it again.”

The pads of his fingers rubbed across her cheek. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her with a blue gaze full of understanding. “I promise if you promise.”

She supposed that was fair, angling her head against his shoulder to more properly meet his eyes. “I promise.”

He kissed her nose, starting to idly play with her fingers. Lucy tugged off one of his gloves so that she could trace across the faint scar that still marked his palm, a twin to the one she had on hers. “You’re all I have, you know that?”

“So are you.”

She shook her head with a small, self deprecating laugh. “You have your family…”

“Do I?” 

“They love you, Tommy.”

“Yeah,” he shifted, leaves crunching beneath him. “To a point.”

There was nothing she could say to argue against that. Instead she just squeezed him tighter.

“I don’t want to live without you,” he brushed his hand across her face, thumb stroking up and down her cheek. “I don’t think that I can.”

“Me neither,” she whispered, understanding.  

He kissed her forehead, the other arm joining the one already around her to squeeze her against him. Together they sat quietly, listening to the sounds of the forest and the creek around them. 

An idea came to her. “Let’s swear it.”

Tommy raised his head to look at her. “What?”

She looked into his eyes, deadly serious. “Let’s swear that we won’t live without one another.” She reached out to stroke her thumb along his bottom lip. “If one of us dies, so does the other.”

He looked into her eyes for a long, long time. And then he reached into his pocket and procured a switchblade. The silver blade popped out with a sharp click. He flexed open his palm, bringing the knife to the faded scar made from their blood bond. Forged so many years ago. He sliced into the skin cleanly, deep enough to have blood welling from the wound, but not so deep as to cause any real damage. Lucy pulled off her gloves, holding her scarred palm out to him. He drew the blade along the scar carefully, kissing her temple when she hissed at the sting. 

Bleeding hands raising, they pressed them flush against each other, staring intently into each other’s eyes. And then entwined their fingers, squeezing their palms together, their blood mixing. Like it had that time they created their blood bond in 1918. Like when the paramedics had transfused his blood into her to keep her alive. 

His blood ran through her veins. He was a part of her. Forever. They were merged. Blurred together. One.  

“If you go; I go,” Tommy said, his face so close to hers that she could count his eyelashes. 

“If you go; I go,” she repeated. Their hands squeezed even tighter against each other. Their mixed blood dripped to run down their arms and splatter onto the ground. 

Tommy kissed her, Lucy’s fingers weaving into his hair and keeping his face close when he did. 

The pact was complete.

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