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madame-wilsonn · 1 year

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It’s always been you

Summary: after years by his side, Tommy sees your friendship shattered when he decides to marry Grace and then later, hurts your boyfriend. Will you ever be reunited?

A/N: phew! this was...well it’s officially the longest one shot I've ever written and it’s in honor of my darling @runnning-outof-time bingo! I’ve worked very hard on this and I'm literally writing this on December 31st at half past two in the morning but it’s worth it! Also, big big thank you to my darling @choreosmania (you’re such a sexy little swine ily <3) Happy New Year everyone, I hope you enjoy this first fic of 2023!! 💗💗

Prompts: A holiday party—hurt/comfort—must include: a secret—enemies-to-lovers

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, swearwords, peaky related stuff and fluff (obviously)

Word count: 8,037 words

Tommy sat in the quiet office, waiting to hear the distinctive clicking on the hardwood floor. He had news to tell you. Something very important that got you rushing to the Shelby Company Ltd. Building. But for once, the news were good.

“What happened?” you almost screamed, erupting through the glass doors. You knew Tommy well enough to be concerned when he called you to his office for “important matters”. And the blood on his temple didn’t soothe your worry.

“I’m getting married, Y/N.”

He pronounced the words calmly. As if it wasn’t supposed to be exciting or thrilling or the best news you had heard all year. He had been through a lot and all you had wished for him was someone good. A nice girl to dust off the remains of the tunnels. Because even if he had changed, Tommy still deserved good things. He deserved to be loved, he deserved to be happy. Even if he didn’t believe it most of the time.

“This is amazing!” you exclaimed, rushing to embrace him. Tommy welcomed your hug, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. You were the first one to know. He wanted you to know before the rest of the family. Ever since he came back from France, you had been a constant. He was aware he was a different man— far from the young boy he was when he left but you accepted it. You didn’t try to make the young boy come back, you didn’t expect Tommy to act like someone he wasn’t anymore. And for that, he wanted to share the good news with you first, and you only.

“So who is the unfortunate creature?” your playful tone made Tommy shake his head. You smiled at him, wondering who had managed to bring back the grin on his face. He hadn’t mentioned anybody special and you hadn’t seen him with anybody either.

“It’s Grace,” Tommy finally said, his smile widening. But you weren’t smiling anymore.

You let him go, a cold pit in your stomach. No. No, you refused to believe it. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not after everything that happened. No, it was probably someone else. Another girl. You heard it wrong because he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t marry her.

Tommy noticed the sudden switch. Your joyful expression erased by a troubled frown, you backed away in disbelief. “Y/N…,” but you shook your head, a hollow chuckle escaping your trembling lips.

“No, no, you can’t marry her. Fuck, Tommy! You can’t be that naive, you– did you forget what she did?” The man lowered his head, sighing. You were reacting out of shock but it would pass, he just needed to let you have a moment. “You almost got killed because of her! She called the fucking cops on your own fucking sister and y-you want to marry her? No, no, please tell me this is supposed to be a joke because you can’t be serious right now…you can’t…”

“But I am, Y/N,” he began calmly, grabbing your hand. “She’s pregnant a-and she said she loved me.”

You snatched your hand away, angry tears rolling down your cheeks. “Are you fucking kidding me, Tommy? She said she loved you? So fucking what? She said she was a barmaid too, didn’t she? And how do you know the baby’s yours, hm? Isn’t she married?”

Tommy sighed, he was feeling less and less patient. Maybe he didn’t expect you to jump out of happiness, especially after knowing he would marry Grace. But he thought you would be happy for him because it was important. Because after all these years in the dark, trying to dig himself out of the tunnels, he had found light.

“She’s going to leave him, she doesn’t love him.”

“Oh right…because she loves you,” you spat out bitterly. “Is that why you asked me to come here? Did you expect me to give you my blessing to go marry a traitor?”

“Don’t call her that, alright?” The mere mention of the past was enough to make Tommy’s blood boil. He knew what Grace had done but he forgave her. You should understand that. You should understand that if he could forgive her, then you should too. Because there would be no one else for him, Grace was the one.

“Call her what? A traitor?” you taunted him even if your anger only masked the deep hurt you felt. She had harmed your family, she had harmed him and now he was opening the door for her. He was allowing her back in. What would she do this time? What would happen if this was another trap but he was too blinded to see? “That’s what she is, Tom! She betrayed you and you’re just giving her another chance! This will never end well, you hear me? And if you go through with this, it’s over. Forget about me.” you uttered the words with all the fierceness burning in your heart. If he wanted to marry a traitor, then he was no better than her. And you didn’t want to be friends with someone who would betray their own flesh and blood.

Tommy observed you for a moment, gauging how serious you were. But he didn’t find an ounce of hesitation in your gaze. You were ready to throw away your entire friendship just for that? You would give up on him because he finally found happiness?

“Then leave, Y/N,” his blue eyes were cold, enough to freeze you on the spot. You watched him as he nonchalantly grabbed a cigarette out of his pocket. The Tommy you loved wasn’t there anymore. You didn’t recognize this man standing tall and proud before you. You shook your head, walking out of the office but before reaching the door you stopped. “When this all goes to shit—and it will— don’t expect me to be there for you. Goodbye, Thomas.” You slammed the glassdoor on your way out, leaving Tommy alone in the gigantic office.

“You’re inviting Y/N?” Polly asked, surprised as her nephew handed her two invitations. She had been the first one to know about the terrible argument between him and Y/N. Polly was many things to the children: a mother, an aunt, a friend at times. But there had always been a strong bond between her and Y/N. Polly had grown up with her mother and when she passed, the Shelby matriarch didn’t hesitate to take the little girl in. She was already spending most of the time with the rest of the Shelbys anyway. They had all accepted her whole-heartedly as part of their clan, especially Tommy. They were inseparable. If Y/N was somewhere, Tommy wasn’t far behind. They disagreed sometimes but their fights never lasted long.

That’s what Polly thought would happen the last time. Nothing more than a petty argument, a few days sulking and then it would go back to normal. Y/N would get over her hatred towards Grace and Tommy would understand that marrying her didn’t erase her wrongs. But neither seemed to budge, they were too stubborn, too set in their own positions.

Family meetings turned to awkward blanks and a tense atmosphere as everyone observed the broken pair. Y/N didn’t address Tommy unless it was necessary. Tommy treated Y/N like she was nothing more than an employee. But the rest of the family couldn’t help notice the glances one would throw when the other wasn’t paying attention.

“Well, she’s part of the family, isn’t she?” Tommy answered simply, passing a tired hand over his face. He had told the same thing to Grace a week before when she was making the invitations— to which she replied: “I’m your family too, now, Tommy.” But he insisted regardless of Grace’s reticence. His soon-to-be wife didn’t seem to understand why he would invite the girl who had decided to cut all relations with him. But Tommy, for some reason, couldn’t imagine his wedding without Y/N being there. And even if there was a very strong chance she declined the invitation, Tommy thought he could try. Maybe extend an olive branch her way and put an end to the ridiculous quarrel between them.

“Just give her the invitation, will ya, Pol?” his aunt observed him, he seemed exhausted. But not the exhaustion of a father who had a teething baby at home. Not the exhaustion of a businessman spending too much time at the office. No, something was bothering him.

“What’s going on, Tommy?”

He looked up, eyes reddened by the incessant rubbing, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he took out a file from a drawer and threw it on top of his desk. Polly opened it, finding letters and different annotations. “Mr. Changretta met a girl in the Italian restaurant on Fleet Street and took her back to a suite at the Midland Hotel,” she read out loud.

Fuck.

You had been seeing Angel for a few months. You had told Polly about him, how nice he was to you.

“Don’t tell her anything, alright? I’m going to deal with it?” Polly looked up from the file, a frown on her face. Tommy’s tone didn’t need clarifying. Anyone who hurt a Shelby would pay the consequences. These were the rules. But the Changrettas were a powerful family.

“Thomas, don’t start with the Italians, you hear me? I’ll tell Y/N what you found and she will handle it alone-”

“No, Polly. You won’t tell her. Just let me handle it.”

She handed him the file back, sighing. Tommy wouldn’t do something stupid, she told herself. Not when he had a baby, not right before his wedding. No, her nephew was a smart man. He would handle things properly.

You opened the glassdoors with such strength they hit the wall behind. But it didn’t matter, you didn’t care. Thomas got up from his desk as you ran towards him, rage deforming your features.

“Fuck you, Thomas! Fuck you!” you pushed him, tears blurring your vision. “How could you, hm? How could you do that? What…just because I refused to come to your fucking wedding you had to get revenge? Are you that fucking petty?” you screamed. You probably seemed mad, maybe you were. It didn’t matter. Not when he stood so calmly, even after what he did.

“Y/N…” he grabbed your wrists, holding them close to his chest. You easily got out of his grip, withdrawing as if his hands had burnt you.

“Why did you do that, hm? Just out of spite?” but Tommy stood there, observing you. “Answer me!” you demanded vehemently.

The office doors opened again. This time, Polly rushed inside, alerted by the screams.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to her, eyes swollen and red. “Maybe you should ask your nephew, hm?” your finger pointed accusingly towards Tommy, you explained “He went to Angel and took his fucking eyes out.”

“What?” Polly observed Tommy in disbelief. Not because she was surprised by his action. But because two weeks ago, she warned him. She told him if he decided to deal with Changretta, he had to be diplomatic. This was far from diplomacy. This meant war with the Italians.

“And you wanna know why he did it, huh?” you continued, hands gesturing in anger “Because the great Thomas Shelby can’t stand that I hate his darling wife so he wants to make me pay. And for that, he’s just planning on hurting anybody I get close to, isn’t he?” a hollow laugh left your trembling lips, Tommy kept quiet.

From the corner of her eye, Polly noticed his clenched jaw. Her nephew stood there, unable to defend himself because he refused to let you know the reason.

Tommy had to speak with Polly. Keep her from explaining why Angel Changretta lost his sight. But he couldn’t do that with you in the room.

Polly seemed to understand her nephew’s lack of answer and called Lizzie.

“Y/N, sweetheart, let me talk to Tommy. Go with Lizzie, alright?”

You sighed, your chest heaving. The flaming rush that led you to the office was slowly dissolving, leaving you a pounding headache and exhaustion. You listened to Polly, deflated and followed Lizzie outside.

The Shelby matriarch waited to hear the click of the door and turned back to Tommy. He slumped in his chair, sighing. “Oh, you can sigh all you want but I’m not leaving.”

“Yeah, I know you won’t, Pol.” he lit up a cigarette, watching the cloud of smoke escaping from his lips.

“You have to apologize, Thomas. We can’t afford a war with the Italians. Not when you already have that business with the Russians.”

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh yeah and how should I apologize, eh? In English or in Italian?”

Polly shook her head. Her nephew was too proud to realize the consequences of his actions.

“Or maybe we should ask them which fucking language they prefer?”

“Why, Thomas? Why?”

“Because anyone who hurts a Shelby pays the price, remember, Pol?” he said matter-of-factly, his voice low.

She observed him. This was more than just pride, this was more than just a show of power.

“Why didn’t you tell Y/N, then? Why let her believe you did it out of pure spite?”

Tommy took a minute to reply, smoking his cigarette as he stared at the family portrait on the desk. “She hates me already. No need to get her heart broken on top of it.”

Polly sighed. She sat next to him, grabbing a cigarette as well. He knew the consequences of his actions but it didn’t matter, he would blind the king himself if he dared disrespecting you. Even if your friendship had shattered to pieces, it didn’t make him care less about you. It didn’t change the years spent by your side. Tommy knew you like no one did. And even if you were a strong woman, he wouldn’t handle seeing you in pain. Much less for a scumbag like Angel Changretta.

“Don’t tell her, Polly, yeah?” his aunt stared at him, containing the smirk forming on her lips.

“I won’t but that’s not what you should be worried about, Tommy. The Changrettas will come after you.”

“Then let ‘em come, Pol. Let ‘em come.”

A cup of tea, a book in hand and a fire softly crackling in the hearth. All the elements for a perfect evening. And it would be perfect if Polly wasn’t standing over you, arms folded across her chest. “Come on, Y/N, just come! You can’t spend New year’s Eve alone!”

You rolled your eyes, finally giving up on your book. “I can, Polly. And I will. Now, you got the pearls you were looking for, go or you’ll be late.” Wrapping your robe closer around your chest, you opened the door. “And you know how your dear nephew loathes late people.”

Polly sighed. The only reason you refused to come was because said New Year’s party was at Arrow House. It was a stupid reason. And even though Polly had tried to be patient, she was tired of you and Tommy sulking like children, refusing to be near each other under any circumstance. “Y/N…”

“Polly…” you mimicked her. The woman sighed, closing the door and grabbing your hand.

“Alright, I won’t take another minute of you behaving like a kid. Sit,” her order was firm. It left no room for negotiation. And quite frankly, no matter how grown you were, you couldn’t ignore Polly’s scolding.

“You’re going to that party.” you opened your mouth, ready to retaliate “You are going. And you’ll talk to Tommy.” She fished a dress out of your wardrobe, throwing it on your bed. “ Go on, we don’t have all day. I need to do your hair.”

“Polly, please.”

It was hard for the family, you were aware of that. Tommy and you had always been close and the sudden distance between you had completely wrecked the usual balance. But you couldn’t just forgive and forget. It was better to ignore him than go to his house and sulk all night while the others were put in the middle.

“Y/N, this has to stop,” she spoke more softly, her hands rubbing your arms up and down. “Look, he doesn’t want you to know but…”, Polly hesitated. She promised she wouldn’t say anything but she couldn’t bear watching you and Tommy apart anymore. “Angel was cheating on you.”

“What?”

Polly sighed. “He was cheating with some other girl and that’s why Tommy gave the order. He asked me to keep it a secret and…”

“And you lied. You let me believe that Tommy did it because he was bitter,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

“Tommy didn’t want you to be heartbroken. He…he cares even if he has strange ways of showing it.”

You observed Polly, suddenly feeling stupid. You thought your anger towards Tommy was justified, that he deserved it because someone had to stop him. Someone had to make him understand he didn’t have all the rights to do whatever he pleased. But now…now you realized your outburst was unfair. He was trying to protect you, even if he could have let you deal with your troubles alone. He shielded you from the pain, took the blame for everything. Gosh you hated him.

“Just come, alright?”

Your initial reticence had seemingly disappeared and you nodded.

Polly helped you get ready and called her driver an hour later. You would arrive late, probably right in time for dinner but it didn’t matter. All you needed was a talk with Tommy. You needed to apologize and put an end to the conflict between—which seemed completely ridiculous now. Apprehension grew in the pit of your stomach as you got closer and closer to Arrow House. You didn’t know how he would react: would he listen to you? Would he try to avoid the conversation?

“We’re there, Y/N,” Polly’s firm hand squeezed yours, the great manor standing tall behind the window.

You took a deep breath, exiting the car. Each step brought you closer to him and it frightened you. You brought your coat closer to you, trying to stop your hands from shaking. Polly, noticing your anxiety, kept her hand tightly wrapped around yours and offered you a smile as you passed the threshold.

“Well, Polly, you’re…” Tommy appeared, his pocket watch in hand. He was probably going to comment on his aunt’s late arrival but he stopped himself mid sentence. Polly didn’t come alone tonight. No, you were here too.

Tommy had invited you, the same way he invited his brothers and their wife but unlike John, Esme or Arthur, he didn’t expect you to show up.

Even a year later, you didn’t forgive what happened to Angel Changretta. Tommy had paid the price already but losing Grace made him realize how alone he felt. After her death, he didn’t have anyone to turn to. Of course, there were Ada and Polly and Arthur’s clumsy attempts. But none were enough. Not compared to you.

Tommy remembered the days after his mother’s death, you had been the only one he could somehow confide in.

Sometimes, his grief grew so heavy he couldn’t speak anymore. His family didn’t understand that. They didn’t see his silence as the biggest proof of his sorrow, they saw it as a lack of emotion. But you had always been attentive enough to understand that words didn’t work, not when he felt like his heart was nothing but broken pieces scattered on the floor.

Your absence had never been as striking as it had been during the past year. But you were here now, on his doorstep with a soft smile brightening your features. Tommy moved towards you, he wanted to hug you, tell you just how much he had missed you.

“Y/N,” he mumbled instead, a polite nod to greet you.

Polly watched the scene, suppressing a grin. It wasn’t much but it was progress, she thought.

“Alright, Tom, are we spending the rest of the evening on the doorstep or can we get in? It’s freezing here!” The Shelby matriarch almost pushed her nephew out of the way and ran to greet the rest of the family. John’s kids screamed as they saw Polly, scaring to death Billy—Arthur’s baby.

The party was booming, jazz echoing through the halls and children running around. Although you didn’t come here often, you knew your way to the parlor where most of the family was. You hugged everyone, giggling at Arthur’s tight embrace and drunken comments. Quickly, you found yourself holding Esme’s little girl in your arms, chatting with her and Linda.

Tommy sat in the corner of the room, a glass of whiskey in hand and a cigarette in the other. He didn’t enjoy parties—too much noise, too much mess— but Arrow House had been so quiet. A deadly silence, gloomily settling in the manor until Tommy couldn’t handle it anymore. Inviting the family over brought back some of the liveliness: the chandeliers had been lit, music played on the phonograph and Charlie could run around with his cousins.

“Tom?” he blinked, startled as you stood before him. It had been a while since he heard you say his name. “Could I talk to you, please?” Tommy kept quiet for a moment, surprised by your proposal but he nodded, guiding you to his office.

There was a beat of silence as you stood in the middle of the room, twisting your fingers. You didn’t know how to start.

“Is everything okay?” Tommy finally asked, observing your nervous gestures.

“No…I mean, yes, I just…Polly told me about what you did and…and I guess I wanted to apologize.”

Tommy sighed, your words clear enough he didn’t need to ask what you were talking about. Polly promised she wouldn’t say anything but of course, his aunt never listened to him.

“You don’t have to apologize, I’m the one who blinded the man you loved, didn’t I?”

“You did it because he deserved it,” you reasoned simply. “And I didn’t love him, he was just a nice man…well, I thought so. I…why did you do it, Tom?”

Polly gave you a reason earlier today but you wanted to hear it from him. Why would he do something so reckless just over a love affair between you and some Italian man?

“I didn’t want you to get your heart broken over him. You didn’t deserve that,” he admitted, hands in his pocket.

“So you thought taking the blame would be better? You didn’t deserve getting yelled at.”

Tommy stared at you. He didn’t know what to answer. Letting you believe he was a terrible person somehow felt easier than watching you in pain. It was hard to explain but at the time, he didn’t need to explain anything. It was natural. Your friendship was already dead anyway, why break your heart to save something that wasn’t there anymore?

Before he could figure out an answer, Tommy felt your arms wrapped around his neck. You embraced him so tight it knocked the air out of his lungs. “Thank you,” a soft whisper, mumbled close to his ear.

It had been so long, he didn’t even realize how much he had missed it. You always hugged him like your life depended on it, like at any point he would disappear and you needed to make the most of whatever time you had left. Not much had changed, not even the perfume you wore. Tommy finally wrapped his own arms around your figure, his head resting on your shoulder. He closed his eyes for a moment. He dreaded the moment you would pull away, afraid it was the last time and he didn’t enjoy it enough.

But you didn’t want to let go either. You had missed him terribly. Often people wondered what you found in him, why a girl like you would care so deeply about the devil of Small Heath. And you understood the concern: Tommy was from being a saint. But there was so much to him, so much you were never able to express. He had unique ways of showing his love but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. If you had to learn a lesson from all these years apart, it was that. You needed him just like you knew he needed you.

“Mr. Shelby?” a soft knock on the office door and Tommy loosened his hold, allowing Frances to come inside. “The fireworks are ready, sir.”

“Fireworks, huh?” you asked in a playful tone.

“Wanted to start the year on the right foot.”

Tommy’s hand rested safely on the small of your back, guiding you outside. Polly instantly noticed the gesture as you arrived in the garden. She didn’t comment—there would be more appropriate times for that— but she couldn’t help flashing a sly smirk your way.

It was a minute to midnight, everyone was ready. The kids sat expectedly, waiting for the magic to start while the adults checked their watch. At last, Tommy signed for the fireworks to be lit.

Midnight sharp. A first bang, followed by another. The entire family marveled at the colors and festive motifs as they all hugged each other. A bright smile on your face, you turned to Tommy and kissed his cheek. “Happy New Year, Tom.”

But before he could answer, the noise was covered by cars screeching in the driveway and explosions—different from the fireworks. You merely had time to register the screams, Arthur yelling to get inside with the kids and bullets flying left and right. You couldn’t see who was shooting, your mind numbing the noise as you stood there, completely frozen. Fireworks were still shooting in the sky and in hues of red and blue, you saw John and the bullets passing through his chest, you saw Michael right behind him fall to the ground and you felt something running down your arm. A wave of hot liquid soaking your coat as arms pushed you away from the bullet. Gravel scratched your cheek—a sting long forgotten as you bled out on the ground. Tommy lay on top of you, he pushed the hair out of your face and spoke to you but all you could hear was the ringing in your head.

“...Okay? Y/N?”

You blinked, mumbling about your arm—at least you thought you did, you weren’t sure your lips could still move. Tommy seemed to understand and he took off his scarf, wrapping it around the wound.

“It hurts, Tom.”

“I know, I know, love,” he held you, leaning against the wall. You felt the wool of his coat around you and the fast thumps of his heart against your cheek. He shouted instructions, his loud voice rumbling in his chest. Someone was crying, you couldn’t see who it was. Your arm was getting numb, you couldn’t feel the tip of your fingers anymore. The pain was so raw you thought you would pass out. Somewhere in the distance, the cries were covered by sirens. You were so tired, so cold.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, stay awake, love,” Tommy’s hands cooled down your flushed cheeks.

“’m so tired.”

“Yeah, yeah but you have to stay awake, alright? You have to stay awake, the ambulance is coming,” Even in your half-conscious state, you picked up on the worry in his voice. Tommy couldn’t lose you. He had lost enough already, he wouldn’t handle losing you as well. The dark attire, the funeral, everyone crying and him just standing there, only crumbling in the middle of the night, guilt gnawing at his insides. No, he couldn’t do it all again. “Please, Y/N…”

“Hey,” you quietly joined Tommy in front of the fireplace, sitting on the carpet. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he sipped his whiskey.

“How is your arm doing?” his gaze darted towards the fresh bandages wrapped around the bullet wound.

You had spent the few hours following the attack at the hospital. Thankfully, no bone was touched. Your injury was taken care of quickly, you didn’t even realize it was over—which probably had to do with the heavy dose of anesthetic they gave you. Tommy proposed to take you back home and stay with you, leaving Polly with Michael and John…

Oh John…

You didn’t see him, didn’t have time to say goodbye. But a part of you was glad you didn’t go to the morgue. That way, the last memory you would keep of him would be his booming laugh and the jokes he’d share at dinner. Not the gruesome view of his wan skin covered by blood and lifeless eyes. No, that way, you cherished that last evening with him, his smile and his hugs and everything that made him him.

“It’s okay. I don’t feel much with all the painkillers.”

Tommy nodded, his eyes stopping on your cheek. His fingers instinctively reached for the scratch, his thumb gently trailing over the redded marks. “It’s from the gravel, don’t worry,” you assured him, your hand closing over his fingers.

He frowned, his jaw clenching. “‘m sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“Are you joking? Tom, hey,” you tilted his chin, making him look at you. “You saved my life. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve gotten that bullet…”

Right to the heart.

“I know,” he interrupted you.

Tommy had watched the scene unfold before him. You and that bullet rushing at you. It had left a strange impression of déjà-vu. A familiar sequence. Memories of one fateful evening under glistening chandeliers, guests screaming, the noise covered by his own buzzing fear. His stomach churned at the idea—the sparkle of your dress fading under warm red, holding your lifeless body as he begged for you to stay. So he did what he didn’t have the chance to do a year before: he pushed you to the ground, deviating the trajectory. The bullet didn’t miss, it went to your arm but you were okay. You were okay.

“But I didn’t save John,” Tommy let the words sting his tongue, not even realizing how broken his voice sounded or how easily the truth came out. He felt his eyes burn with the tears he couldn’t shed, his jaw aching under the tight pressure.

But your hand found a place on his shoulder, a simple gesture alleviating Tommy’s sorrow.

“I’m sorry, Tom,” you whispered but he shook his head. “It’s not your fault, don’t do this to yourself.”

He scoffed bitterly, bolting the remnants of whiskey. It was his fault. Maybe you were too kind to admit it or even to see it but Tommy knew it was. His hand may not have been the one blinding Angel Changretta but his mouth gave the orders.

“Hey,” your hands gently framed his face, your forehead resting against his. “You can’t control everything, you can’t predict the future. Maybe this was avoidable or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was going to happen no matter what. And there is nothing you can do to change that. Blaming yourself won’t make any of this better.”

Tommy observed you, your words sinking in. A part of him wanted to believe you. A part of him knew you were right. But he couldn’t help the guilt gnawing at his insides.

“All I can think about is what you said. That day when I told you about Grace. You said it would go wrong. I didn’t want to believe you then but you were right. It all went wrong,” he confessed. Your words had haunted him ever since that first night alone in Arrow House. He desperately wanted to go back. Listen to you and let Grace sail away. Maybe then, all of this wouldn't have happened. Maybe he wouldn’t feel the constant grief laying heavily on his chest.

“I said that out of anger, Tom. I never meant…” you sighed, realizing the impact of your wrath. You had been so blinded by your rage you didn’t even consider the consequences of your words.

A pinch of guilt in your chest, you bit your lip. “All these years not talking to you, d’you know what I regretted the most?”

Your thumb trailed across his cheek as he kept quiet. “How safe you made me feel,” you uttered. Those words were true, you meant every single one of them, in every way they could be interpreted. He was the arms you ran into after each heartbreak, each torment. An unsuspected haven hiding under intimidating layers of arrogance and rigidity.

“And after tonight, I can only say the feeling has increased. I know you want to blame yourself for everything that went wrong but I don’t think it’s fair. You do so much good, Tom. You protect us, as best as you can. I know that, Polly knows that. And John knew that too.”

A single tear rolled down Tommy’s freckled cheek. You leaned in, kissing his pain away as his hands tightened around your waist. He embraced you, head resting on your shoulder and even though the wound was still raw, Tommy chose to believe you.

Laughs and chatters echoing through Charlie’s yard, the smell of roasted meat and the entire family gathered around a lavish meal: the perfect way to celebrate John. No matter the pain, no matter the grief, the Shelby clan knew that he would have wanted them to remember the good moments only. The memory of his buoyant energy soothed their sorrow as they chose to say goodbye reminiscing the pranks and jokes John was a master of.

Tommy sat at the end of the table, playing with the flask of whiskey in his hand. He had tuned out the chatter around, turning the loud voices and exclamations into a mere buzzing in the background. Although he seemed miles away from the actual scene, his eyes were fixed on the other side of the table.

You sat next to Ada, chatting about something or another, still wearing your mourning attire. Since the night before, Tommy hadn’t been able to get you out of his mind. For some reason, your presence seemed to haunt his thoughts even more so than usual.

Even after you had gone to bed, Tommy stayed wide awake, incapable of forgetting the solace you had offered him. Your gentleness, your words, your hands. Everything about you made him crave more. He longed for your arms around him, for your voice to whisper in his ear and quiet the demons in his mind. Tommy couldn’t shake that feeling—a wave of peace and tranquility washing over him amidst a tempestuous ocean.

“I heard you and Y/N finally buried the hatchet,” Polly sat down next to him, a sly smirk illuminating her tired face.

Tommy sipped on his whiskey, shrugging. “Yeah, guess I have to thank you for that.”

His gaze was still fixed on the other end of the table. Although his aunt promised she would keep his secret, for once he was glad that she did the complete opposite of what he wanted. If it wasn’t for Polly’s meddling, Tommy would still be living with that cold, empty pit: the knowledge that no matter how close he was sitting, you would only get further and further away.

“I wanted to keep your secret,” she began, her gaze briefly following his. Polly turned to her nephew, observing his tired features. She often worried about him. The more time passed, the more he looked like his mother. And although nothing could be done for Martha, Polly didn’t want the history to repeat itself. Regardless of yours and Tommy’s bond, you were good to him. The Shelby matriarch handled the matters of the heart in the family for a reason, she wasn’t going to let the only good thing in Tommy’s life slip through his fingers. “But then I remembered the time you came home from school and told me you had met your wife.”

Tommy’s head shot up at Polly’s words. It had been so long, somehow buried under the decades of war and pain and loss. A memory lost, somewhere before France, somewhere before his mum’s death and his father’s leaving. Somewhere Tommy was still a boy who wasted the week’s money on top hats and coconuts and you were still a little girl with braids and a toothy smile.

It had been another dusty afternoon, running home after school. Tommy was with his brothers, kicking a ball and laughing the soot away. But even in the middle of a very important game, the little boy didn’t miss the cruel snickering echoing through the streets. He remembered abandoning the ball, his brothers’ exclamations ignored as he followed a lone, shriek cry for help.

Behind an alley, tall boys circling a smaller figure. Tommy knew them, some scumbags from school who spent their days attacking those who couldn’t defend themselves. And their new target was you, only 8 but already tougher than those boys. They were mocking you, making fun of your father—or lack thereof. You didn’t care, your mum explained it all to you but those idiots didn’t seem to understand.

Tommy stepped up, easily reminding them their own lives weren’t perfect—they lived in dingy Small Heath just like that little girl after all, they weren’t any better. You had watched the scene, scared for your daring savior—those boys could easily take him—but he got a pocket knife out and in the blink of an eye, the boys scurried off the alley.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you had shyly muttered, the first words you ever said to him. Tommy had seen you, sometimes you came over with your mum but you always stayed hidden in her skirts.

Tommy remembered how your light voice made him smile. And with the full weight of his 11 years old, he realized that the chirpy melody was too beautiful to be tainted by sorrow or even anger. He couldn’t understand it then but the radiant grin you offered him on that first, real meeting, made his heart flutter and his cheek redden.

Kindly, Tommy took you back to your house and made sure you arrived safely but before leaving, you granted him another smile. “Thank you,” you had repeated and Tommy waved the gesture off as if it was nothing. It was to him.

He remembered how you looked around, searching for something until your gaze dropped on a small dandelion. It had somehow grown on your doorstep, finding a crack through the pavement and shamelessly growing, unafraid of the industrial monster around. You handed him the flower, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek. The first kiss Tommy didn’t get from his mum or his aunt. The first kiss he got from an actual girl. He took the flower, staring at you dumbfounded.

On the way back to his house, Tommy couldn’t help but touch his freshly kissed cheek, observing the dandelion. He had passed the threshold, arriving in the living room, still as starstruck as he had been ever since your lips touched his skin. Polly observed her nephew, wondering what in the world could have turned the usually loud boy so quiet.

“I–I think I met my wife, Pol,” he mumbled, showing the bright yellow dandelion.

Tommy stared at the dried flower between his fingers. It had been there all along, at the bottom of a drawer in his childhood bedroom. After the lunch in Charlie’s yard, Tommy had spent another sleepless night. It wasn’t nightmares or ruminations this time, no. It was that old, shrunken up dandelion. He had been unable to shake the growing feeling in his chest, the memories of an entire life spent by your side.

“Hey, you said you wanted to see me?” Tommy blinked his thoughts away, quickly hiding the flower in his pocket.

He cleared his throat, leaving his chair and grabbing his coat. “Yeah, I…I wanted to take you somewhere.”

Instinctively, Tommy extended his arm towards you and you linked your fingers with his. He almost stopped in his tracks, surprised by the striking contrast. Your soft finger rubbing the rough and calloused skin of his hand.

You quickly recognized the path you took countless times before. It brought you right to the Canal, a secret spot Tommy showed you when you were merely 16. There was not enough space, not enough quiet on Watery Lane so he found somewhere else. A place known by you and him only. A place you would escape to when you wanted to chat or just get away from thin walls and wandering ears.

“It’s been so long since I came here,” you uttered, nostalgia rushing through your veins. All these years and yet, it stayed the same. Nothing had changed since the last time you met there. As if the Canal knew. As if it waited for you to come back, freezing dear memories in time.

Tommy walked to the water, watching a bird on the other side of the bank. He stayed quiet, deep in his thoughts. Something in him told him to bring you here but now…now he didn't know what to do. He considered admitting the strange feelings. Maybe admitting it outloud would make it easier? Or at least make him realize how stupid those thoughts were.

“The trip down memory lane sounds fun, Tom, honestly but, uh, why d’you bring me here? It’s fucking freezing,” you muttered after a good 15 minutes spent in silence.

Tommy walked back to you, leaving his incessant thoughts behind. He handed you a cigarette, observing your features as you exhaled the smoke.

“I had a crush on you,” he finally blurted out. The words lingered in the air for a moment. Tommy didn’t even realize what he said until he noticed the frown on your face.

“What?”

“Yeah, before France, had a crush on you.”

“Really? I–I always thought you were in love with Greta Jurossi,” you chuckled, the image of a younger Tommy appearing somewhere in your mind.

“Nah, she was just helping me. I never told anyone but she knew and she said she would play cupid.” Tommy shook his head at the memory, he had spent hours with Greta, listening to her talk about women loved and how to be romantic.

“D’you remember that time we ended up in the linen closet?”

You hummed.

“Yeah well, that was her idea. She read it in some book, said that by the end the characters kissed and then got married,” Tommy chuckled. It did sound ridiculous now that he said it. “But you grew tired of waiting for her to come back with help so you knocked the damn door down.”

You giggled, remembering that one particular afternoon. You had found yourself locked up in the linen closet and for some unknown reason—well, it was at the time—Tommy just sat there and tried to convince you to wait. Greta promised she would get some help to get you out but time passed and you were still stuck in that closet. Tired of waiting, you did what any other sensible person would do and forced the door open. You never understood why the two kept behaving so strangely but now it all made sense.

“Oh, my poor Tommy, I ruined your plans, didn’t I?” you pouted, a tender expression gracing your features.

“Yeah…” he observed you, hands brushing the hair framing your face.

You had changed so much. Long gone were the two kids from Small Heath who only had each other. But in your gaze, Tommy found a sparkle, the same gleam the little girl with her braids and toothy smile carried proudly. The dandelion weighed in his pocket. It was the reminder that beautiful things grew everywhere—even in the dusty hell of Small Heath. A reminder that, once, Tommy was just a boy and you were just the girl who kissed him. He had given up on being a simple man. Someone who craved to be loved just as much as he craved to love. But the boy he had buried under the mud was still there, still craving the tender smiles and soft kisses.

Tommy felt himself lean in, closer and closer until his lips gently touched yours. His hands caressed your cheeks, slowly trailing down your neck as you responded to the kiss. Your arm wrapped his waist, you brought him closer. It should have been strange, kissing him. It should have felt weird and probably even repulsing. But you still melted against him, fingers getting lost in his raven hair.

Reluctantly, Tommy’s lips left yours cold and hungry for more. He rested his forehead against yours, sighing. “I think I love you, Y/N.”

You shouldn’t have been feeling that peculiar flutter in your stomach at his words. You shouldn’t be craving more, more of his lips, more of his touch, more of the sparkle he lit. But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel like a mistake, something that should never happen again. No, it was the missing piece of the puzzle. What should have happened all these years ago but never really did.

You felt a yearning. It had been hidden, retained, buried for so long. Too long. And now, you both realized it was everything you wanted, everything you needed. The source of your happiness, your peace, safely resting in each other’s hands.

“No, I don’t think…I know,” Tommy mumbled, his lips brushing yours before kissing you once again.

The sun shone, its gleam covering the guests in golden hues. Arrow House was dressed in its best attire, tents had been installed in the gardens and enthusiasm flowed through the sweet summer air.

Tommy stood at the end of the alley, facing the few guests. Arthur was beside him, talking his ear off as they waited patiently for you. You had decided to get married in your garden with Jeremiah to officiate and only your close family and friends attending. It was unusual, unconventional even. But the Shelby clan wasn’t known for respecting conventions.

At last, the bride’s melody covered the excited chatter as everyone got up. You sauntered through the alley, walking by each of the guests, a bright smile hidden by your veil. You instantly fixed your gaze on Tommy. He looked dashing in his navy blue suit, you thought.

Polly walked next to you, proudly giving you away. The tradition was for the father of the bride to bring her down the aisle but you never had a father. What you had was your aunt who raised you and loved you enough to replace whatever masculine presence people valued so much.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” she whispered to you, tears glistening in her honey-like eyes. She embraced you tightly, finally leaving you with Tommy.

Your soon-to-be husband beamed at the sight of you: an angel sent to him for a reason he still couldn’t understand. Gently, he lifted the veil covering your face and his smile only brightened. Even after all these years, he couldn’t help but still be starstruck by your beauty.

“You look beautiful, love,” he mumbled, his gaze overflowing with adoration.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Tommy chuckled at your playful tone, his hand reaching for yours. You observed him, a radiant grin engraved on your face. He was beautiful and the best part, he was yours. A part of you wanted to leave everyone there, let them enjoy the champagne and the food while you ran away. Let them dance, let them sing and hide with Tommy, have him all to yourself again.

You made a note to yourself to thank Polly. She made Tommy pick the gorgeous shade—that way, he could be your something blue. But it’s not the suit that piqued your curiosity.

Among the immaculate flowers Tommy wore in his breast pocket, there was a smaller, rusty one.

“Y-You kept it?” you asked, pointing to the old dandelion. The first thing you ever offered him.

Tommy smiled, squeezing your hand. He leaned in and whispered:

“I needed my lucky charm.”

#anna's fics #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #ma ptite bombasse 🥰#tommy <3 #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #k's 2.5k holiday bingo challenge

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ladynamie · 14 days

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SHŌGUN (2024) - Chapter Nine: Crimson Sky

#shōgun #anna sawai #cosmo jarvis #tommy bastow #toda mariko #john blackthorne #father martin #martin alvito #shogun fx #shogun #shōgun 2024 #shogun tv show #gif set #gifs #😔

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aphroditeslover11 · 6 months

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Cherry Lips

A few of the boys’ reactions to a reader who enjoys a bold red lip.

Moodboard pictures all sourced from Pinterest.

Neil Lewis

Every time that he sees you, you are always wearing some shade of red lipstick. At first it freaked him out a bit because he thought it was intimidating, that you would be unapproachable, but that all changed when he got to know you properly.

You’d have a conversation one day and he’d say that it reminded him of classic movie stars when red lips were all the range in the golden era of cinema. By chance it turned out that you got the idea to try it out from watching Marilyn Monroe in ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes’ and hadn’t looked back since.

You can be certain that he will ask you along to promotions when he does them for classic movies, dressing up together like a couple from a classic film noir.

Lenny Miller

When you first met him it was your lipstick that made a lasting impression, specifically on his shirt collar which he found days later when he realised that the stain hadn’t washed out. When you started to date each other he realised quickly that it was a part of your image that you never went without.

When you eventually starting going away together for weekends he became more acquainted with your makeup collection, he was the one that started treating you to ridiculously expensive lipstick that you could never otherwise afford, moving you away from the drugstore ones that you used to use. When you asked him why he just said that “If you’re going to make such a statement, then you might as well do it properly.”

Jonathon Crane

He may be just about as obsessed about your lipstick as you are. He loves how confident and sexy wearing it makes you feel, which in turn makes him feel powerful for having been able to claim you.

When you’re home alone together he will frequently ask you to kiss him, loving the way that the transfer mark makes him feel like he belongs to you. He’ll quite often go to work with a patchwork of lipstick marks across his collar bones. No-one else can see them but he knows that they’re there, it’s like he’s carrying around a little piece of you with him all day.

Robert Fischer

He loves the way that red lipstick looks on you, but he isn’t so much a fan of the more practical side of you wearing it. There have been many times at galas where you have absent-mindedly gone to kiss him, leaving him with a mark on his cheek that he has to awkwardly rush to the toilets to clean away before anyone sees it.

Whenever he travels he makes a joke of bringing you back a new shade of red, so you now have a very large and international collection.

His favourite thing about it though is how you light up as soon as you put it on every morning. It’s like you put on armour, ready to go into battle, and it reminds him that there is nothing that you cannot face together.

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pxrxmoore · 16 days

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i knew from the start, you’d be the one to set me free

giants - dermot kennedy

#bucktommy #buck buckley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 #911 abc #this went thru #many options #thanku to anna an j for lookin at the original and giving opinions only for me to ditch that completely <3 #bp

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perrieedwards · 1 year

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THE LAST OF US (2023)

1.01 - WHEN YOU’RE LOST IN THE DARKNESS

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mdawgswizzleinthehizzle · 2 months

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joel miller definitely loves with his whole heart, and i feel like that’s why he’s so closed off to anyone who isn’t family.

aside from just being not that great at expressing his feelings through words, he knows that once he lets someone past that line from “somebody i know” to “somebody i care about”, he isn’t going back and that scares him.

he’s already encountered loss of one of the greatest forms: losing a child. if he does love with his whole heart like i think he does, then i could not imagine the overwhelming fear of that happening again with ellie. she wormed her way into his heart from the very beginning. now he’s locked in. he cares about her, she’s family now, so in his head, it’s now his absolute duty to make sure nothing happens to her.

it’s why he takes “failure” so hard, it’s why he spent so many years looking for tommy, it’s why (in the show) news of tommy maybe being dead was crippling, it’s why he closed himself off for twenty years after his daughter died, it’s why, in those twenty years, tess is the only person he ever really connected with. because when he loves, he loves hard. he protects. he cares. he tends. he lives for others rather than himself.

and it’s equally as beautiful as it is heartbreaking. because we see the toll it takes on him in the game and show. and while we don’t see joel in a romantic relationship, he’d be the same in that sense too. loving with his whole heart. acts of love. tending. protection.

the closest example we get to that is tess, and we honestly see it there. with the way he tends to her after her scrabble with robert and his guys. (in the show) they’re seen laying together in bed and cuddling. joel is obviously insanely protective of her because he has a reputation. robert is scared of him because he knows joel will want to kill him for what he did to tess. he’s like tess’ watchdog during deals.

once you’re in his circle, you’re in for life, and joel is going to make it a priority to love, care for, and protect you in the ways that joel does and can. even if he’s bad at the emotional stuff.

#the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou #hbo the last of us #ellie williams #bella ramsey #ellie and joel #tommy miller #gabriel luna #tlou angst #tlou fluff #tlou analysis #tess servopoulos #anna torv #tlou spoilers #sarah miller #nico parker #joel miller x you

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messrmoonyy · 11 months

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And she would rescue me

Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader

Summary- Tess doesn’t know why she stopped to help you. She doesn’t know why she thought bringing into the QZ was a good idea either. But now you’re in her apartment and she’ll be damned if she’s about to let you die. Snippets of the days you spend with her

A/N- this came to me so randomly in the middle of getting extremely frustrated over a request I couldn’t get my mind to wrap around, and I smashed out a few thousand words and decided I loved it. I feel like there’s a lot of injured reader x Joel fics but not enough Tess ones. So here’s my spin on it.

Warnings- 18+ || light discussion of injuries, I think this is sliigghttllyyy ooc tess, tess realising she can actually let someone in, tess learning to trust tbh, smut towards the end( it isn’t as detailed as usual cause Lord this OS is long I had to chop things out ) : oral ( reader receiving ) , fingering ( tess receiving), tess gets a little panicked during one part of the smut but she’s totally okay, can I get a hell yeah for tess being vulnerable?!

Word count- 13k only proof read once

Navigation | TLOU masterlist | AO3

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated/ encouraged <3

She didn’t really know why she’d done it. Why she hadn’t just… kept walking. Minded her own fucking business and gone home. But how could she? She still had some kind of humanity left in her, enough that meant she wouldn’t just walk past a girl dying.

Which, when she thought about it, was almost laughable. She’d left her fair share of people dying, most of them dying because of her own actions. So. Clearly her humanity liked to pick and choose its moments. And maybe if this scenario had happened 10 more years into the apocalypse, she would have left you there.

But it hadn’t. The world was still yet to rip the final shreds of humanity out of her.

You had been in a heap at the bottom of a slope, where the concrete of the road had been bombed and now created a jagged rocky mess. She’d thought you were dead at first. No one really ever survived outside the wall on their own, so it wasn’t wrong of her to assume. And if she was truly honest she thought that checking on you was worth it, even if you were dead because you might actually have something decent on you.

Well that’s what she’d told Joel anyway. Her and Joel were close, ridiculously close. They knew each other inside and out but she always noticed she had held onto a little more of her humanity of the years where as he seemed to have buried his deeply away. She was the one that still had a tiny candle flickering in her chest, a warmth that allowed her to hope and care. Even if some days she did feel like snuffing it out. No matter how twisted and dark her mind had become over the years, she still had some light trapped in there.

And so even with Joel’s complaints she had gone over to you. Using the excuse of simply hoping to pull something useful from the corpse. But no. You’d been alive. Barely it seemed. But alive.

Firstly she’d checked you over for any sign of a bite, carefully pushing at you and moving your clothes for any sign of fungus crawling through your veins. Last thing she wanted was another infected crawling around out there, as if their journeys out of the city weren’t difficult enough as it was. So she checked, ready to shoot you in the head if she found even a single sign of a mushroom. And when she’d found none… she’d stood up to leave. You had nothing on you. Even your clothes were fucked. Nothing worth her time. You’d be dead soon and just another body littering the streets. She should just go home and get out of the rain.

But she found herself unable to move. Even when Joel chastised her for wasting time when he just wanted to get back inside the wall and drink himself to sleep.

“ I am not taking some damn girl back inside the wall “ he hissed “ This isn’t you Tess “

“ she’s dying Joel “

“ and so let her die. People die every goddamn day. Including us if we get caught tryna smuggle some girl through the wall. And what’re you gonna do when you get back? What if she dies anyway huh? “

She’d looked down at you again, debating listening to him. If you did die on the way back she’d be stuck with the task of trying to dispose of a dead body. Which she had done plenty of times before but, if they found you without any records of ever being accepted into the QZ? That could cause some problems.

But you were still alive. Somehow. Somehow you had managed to survive out there, and from the flaking dried blood on your face you’d been there a while. You were strong. She liked that.

Joel was wrapped around her finger so even with his protesting it didn’t surprise her that she’d managed to talk him round.

The real surprise was that they’d managed to get back inside the wall, through the tunnels and into her apartment unnoticed. Joel unceremoniously dumping you down on her bed and leaving with muttered curses under his breath that he wasn’t gonna help if she got caught. Which was bullshit. Of course he would.

That had been 2 days ago.

You were still where Joel had left you, but she made you more comfortable. Changed you out of your filthy clothes and bandaged your ankle. From the bruising and the swelling she assumed you’d broken it. But there wasn’t much telling what exactly you’d done, X-rays weren’t exactly easy to go and get now.

She’d also cleaned the injury on your head, washing away the dried blood and stitching up the wound. It wasn’t exactly neat. But she didn’t think you’d mind. She’d saved your life after all. She sat you up every now and again to coax water into you, smashing up painkillers and dissolving them in some hope you weren’t in too much pain.

You’d barely woken up the entire time. Occasionally your eyes would open for a few seconds, gaze around the room in a way that made you look drunk, and then pass back out again. She was starting to get worried. Because you needed to eat sooner rather than later. Dosing you with water and pills was one thing but it would be useless if you didn’t eat anything.

She kept a close eye on you. Locking the doors whenever she went out for work assignments and hoping you wouldn’t wake up and freak out whilst she was gone. But you didn’t. She came home, gave you water and meds, and then went to bed.

She’d been sleeping on the couch. The bed was big enough for two. But she guessed you waking up not only in a strange place but with a strange person next to you might just kill you anyway from the shock.

It made her want to laugh sometimes when she lay there at night. Maybe she was getting soft. Running around like Florence fucking Nightingale looking after a stranger that was probably gonna die anyway. And for what? What solid reason did she have for it?

None. Absolutely none.

But she couldn’t help it. Continuously tending to you and keeping you clean, keeping your bandages fresh. Wiping at your face and wondering where you’d come from, how you’d ended up out there. She had so many questions.

She was getting soft.

You woke up properly a few days after she’d found you. She wasn’t entirely sure if your bouts of unconsciousness had been due to the head injury or the painkillers. Maybe it was both. Either way, your eyes were fully open now.

To her surprise you didn’t look afraid. She found it made that little candle in her chest burn a little brighter for a moment. She was so used to people being afraid. She liked it, of course she did. But the change was nice for a brief moment. To see kind eyes looking at her like she was… a person.

You were both silent. Neither of you seemingly knowing what to say in the moment. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. And she was confused to find herself stuck for words. Unsure of what to do. She usually was ten steps ahead of everyone, could read a room in an instant and know exactly what her next move would be.

But not now. Not there with you looking at her like that. It was frustrating.

“ welcome to the world of the living sweetheart “ she finally said, crossing her arms over her chest and watching you closely “ or half living I suppose “

“ where am I? “ your voice was hoarse. Probably because you hadn’t used it for so long. It was curious though. Not afraid. No fear laced your words as you glanced around the room, landing back on her and tilting your head slightly to the side like an inquisitive animal.

“ Boston QZ “ Tess finally spoke, grabbing a chair from the kitchen table and pulling it to the end of the bed and sitting down. You watched her every move, eyes following her from the table to where she sat “ I found you outside the wall. What the fuck were you doing out there huh? “

You seemed to ponder on the question for a moment, flickers of confusion flashing across your face. You didn’t know. How hard had you hit your head?

“ I’m not- I’m not sure - how long have I been here? “

“ few days “ your eyes widened at that, eyebrows flying up in a way that clearly hurt the wound on your head. Your hand came up to touch it, gingerly patting the stitched up space in your hairline. You then pulled at the blankets to see your ankle neatly bandaged up.

“ I fell “

“ I guess so “ she said with a sarcastic tone seeping its way into her words. Of course you’d fallen. It didn’t take a genius to work that one out.

“ so you… brought me here? “

“ a thank you would be fuckin nice “

“ oh! Thank you. Yeah of course “ you said quickly, blush creeping across your cheeks. She surprised herself by immediately thinking how… cute… it looked.

“ you feel okay though? “ she asked, immediately trying to rid herself of her previous thought. You nodded and yours eyes fell back onto her, sheepishly avoiding her gaze for more than a few seconds.

“ kinda hungry though “ to her surprise that made her smile, exhaling shortly though her nose in a small laugh.

“ yeah I bet “ she felt your eyes on her the entire time she was pottering around in the kitchenette deciding what food to get you. A small part of her did think she should’ve been smarter than to turn her back on you, you could’ve gotten out of bed and found one of the numerous weapons littered around the place. Killed her and escaped thinking she’d kidnapped you or something.

It made her glance over her shoulder.

“ you’re not gonna hurt me are you “ you said suddenly. It came out as more of statement or a fact than a question though, like you were telling yourself out loud to confirm it. Not really asking her.

“ if I wanted to hurt you I would’ve done it by now. Fuck I wouldn’t have even risked my ass bringing you though the wall “ she made her way back over to you, placing down a couple of the rationed food bars she had in front of you “ they taste like shit. But apparently one bar equals a whole fuckin meal or whatever propaganda bullshit the Military wanna tell us. Just tryna make us eat less “

“ thank you “ your eyes suddenly seemed ravenous, grabbing at the bar and taking a large bite

“ fuck. Slow down. You haven’t eaten in a week you keep going like that you’ll puke the whole thing up in ten minutes “ your cheeks flushed and you nodded, taking smaller nibbles from the shitty food bar. Looking at them already made her crave the fresh food from Bills. It’d only been days and she’d do anything for a vegetable that actually crunched. And had taste “ you can stay here till your ankles fixed… just be quiet. Stay out of sight. Last thing I want is my neck hanging from a fuckin rope because i got caught with an unregistered citizen. Okay? “

“ thank you “ she moved back to the table then, not really knowing what else she was supposed to say to you, and made herself look busy by counting ration cards. As if she hadn’t already gotten the exact number already twice over.

She was mildly regretting bringing you back. What was she supposed to do with you now? At least when you were asleep she didn’t have to worry about you drawing attention to yourself. Now you were awake, what if someone saw you. Or you decided you were in fact scared of her and started screaming or something.

She was such a fuckin idiot. Always acting on impulse when she was tired. And she had been after that hike from Lincoln. She was usually quite rational, but that all went out the window with you clearly. She should’ve listened to Joel. She probably wouldn’t even remember you by now if she’d just left you there. And now? Now she was stuck with an unregistered citizen in her apartment for fuck knows how long.

Way to fuckin go Tess.

“ I didn’t think.. I didn’t think you’d actually hurt me you know? “ you said as she stacked the cards, her eyes flickered up to find you watching her “ I just. I don’t know why I asked really. I actually feel pretty safe here. That’s stupid isn’t it? “

“ a little bit stupid. Yeah “ she agreed.

“ No one’s kind anymore. But you are. You helped me “ was she kind? Was she? She used to be. She wasn’t so sure anymore “ and you’re a woman “

“ nice observation “

“ no I mean. Men were shitty before but now? We ran into this group on the way here… I can’t remember their names but. They just took girls because they could. Kept them like slaves. Infected aren’t the scariest thing out there “ she knew that was true. Not to say that some women weren’t just as shitty. But the men were having a field day with the apocalypse. All rules had gone out the window.

It was stupid of you to trust her so easily, woman or not. She could very much have been planning to hurt you. Or demand something in return for her good nature. She wasn’t going to of course. But most people would’ve done that. If they’d even bothered to stop to help you at all.

Maybe she was kind.

By your third night- well. Nights that you were aware of anyway- in her apartment she was starting to miss when you were passed out. You woke up screaming somewhere in the early hours each night, thrashing around in the sheets and sobbing about things you couldn’t seem to explain to her.

So much for not drawing any attention to yourself.

She knew you couldn’t help it. Not really. She knew first hand from Joel. From her own nightmares that liked to sneak their way into her dreams from time to time. But you needed to be quiet.

She wondered if you’d been trapped in an endless cycle of those dream when you were unconscious. If you had been watching them on a loop as she attempted to care for you, looking so peaceful but screaming on the inside.

“ you wanna talk about those dreams of yours? “ she asked on morning number four. Remembering some slight memory of her mother telling her that talking about bad dreams would make them go away when she was a kid. Something she probably would’ve then gone on to tell her own kids. One of those small twists of the truth that parents did to try and make their children feel better. Something little and mostly useless that they took into adulthood. Even knowing that it wasn’t entirely true. But it worked a little bit.

So it was worth a try. Wasn’t it. Just because she needed you to be quiet. Not that she really cared. Of course she didn’t care. Why would she.

She couldn’t. Caring was dangerous.

“ I’m sorry I know you said about the noi- “

“ yeah you’re waking up the whole fuckin block every night sweetheart you need to get that under control “ she watched your face flush slightly in a way she had noticed you did when she slipped in the pet name. But maybe it was a mixture of embarrassment too.

It didn’t make you special. It was almost… condescending. Her way of keeping herself that one step above on the ladder, she didn’t care.

She didn’t.

“ I’m sorry I’m trying “

“ try a little harder “ you sighed and dropped your head into your hands, shaking your head. Were you crying?

“ I’m sorry “ you were “ I just keep seeing… seeing all the people and the blood and the rain and- “ she walked over to you, observing you like a injured animal that wasn’t quite sure what to do with. The kind where she didn’t know if it was kinder to kill it and put it out of it’s misery or to attempt to console it and bring it back to health.

Though clearly she was already doing the latter.

“ I told you. Tell me about them “ that came out a little lighter than she had initially meant. But she didn’t linger on it “ get it out. Probably won’t make them stop but. Might help “

You seemed to debate it, wiping at the tears on your cheeks and sighing.

She had to admit she was curious to know what was tormenting you. In the world they lived in there was plenty of things it could’ve been. They were 10 years in now and she still saw flashes of outbreak day in her dreams sometimes. Still remembered the first person she had seen infected. The first she had killed.

Death no longer bothered her. She had become numb to it in every way. Paths she had had no choice but to take, that had lead to her ending up that way. She did what she had to do to survive. But you seemed to still be coming to terms with the world around you.

You shuffled to move next to her, hanging your legs over the side of the bed with a small wince as you moved the ankle that was bandaged up.

“ me and a group. 9 of us? We were heading for the QZ. There was more of us at the start but… Pittsburgh is falling apart. A group of us snook out before it could get any worse. If that place lasts another year I’ll be surprised “ she’d heard of QZs falling apart all over the country. Boston was one of the only ones that FEDRA still had a relatively tight grip on “ we made it to the outskirts of the city… these runners came from no where and- “

She sat down on the edge of the bed as you tried to compose yourself a little, surprised to find her chest hurting a little as she watched you. Maybe it was because you seemed so… vulnerable. Somehow avoiding the hardships of the last ten years and behaving like the outbreak had only just begun.

She couldn’t help but feel inclined to protect you.

“ and how’d you end up at the bottom of that slope? “

“ me and 2 others. We made it pretty deep into the city, one of them said we should cut through the buildings. The road was fucked so I agreed. We got separated. Runners. Clickers. I just ran. Last thing I remember is the rain and and tryna get around the mess on the roads… guess I fell. Then you found me”

You’d escaped runners and clickers, and outlasted your entire group. You were really stronger than she thought. Vulnerable, yes, but still strong.

“ and that’s what you keep seeing? In your dreams? “ you nodded and sighed.

“ the others being ripped apart. Clickers chasing me. It’s so stupid I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quiet… I just wish they’d stop“ you dropped your head against her shoulder with a small sigh. Tess didn’t really know what to do. The gentleness of the act was almost alien to her now.

No one had been gentle with her for 10 years. Not even Joel.

You were doing something to her. Had done from the moment she’d seen you lying half dead on the floor outside. The fact that she had stopped at all. That she had brought you back. That in the 3 days you had been awake, the near constant 72 hours in your company, you had declared feeling safe with her. That you trusted her. That you looked at her and believed she could be gentle.

And Tess didn’t know how to react to it. What to do with it. She didn’t have a snarky remark to give you, simply out of fear of hurting your feelings or upsetting you. Which was ridiculous. Since when did she care about people’s feelings?

“ I promise I’ll try control it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe talking about it helped “

“ yeah. Maybe “

She had the sudden urge to tell you it’ll be okay. That she had nightmares too. That she’d lost count of the amount times she woke up in a cold sweat, images of her husband in a pool of his own blood flashing behind her eyelids, the sounds of her son fighting to escape the basement she had locked him in ringing in her ears.

Nothing haunted her more than that day. Everyone had their ghosts.

She didn’t even tell Joel but there she was wanting to tell you. To relate. To console.

She stood up before she could. Clearing her throat and heading for the door. She needed to get out of that apartment.

“ where are you going? “ the look on your face was like that of a kicked puppy, eyes wide and sad. She really needed to get out of that apartment.

“ I have shit to do. Stay quiet. Don’t open the door. I’ll be back in a few hours “ she pulled on her boots as she spoke, grabbing her bag and heading out the door in a hurry.

She needed to get back out among people that feared her. People that knew how dangerous she could be. Just to remind herself she was feared. She was dangerous. She wasn’t soft.

She. Didn’t. Care.

The fourth night was the same. She woke up to the clock on the wall showing 3:30am, you screaming at the top of your lungs and begging for help.

She got up from her makeshift bed on the couch and headed for the kitchen to get you some water, in the way that was becoming routine now. Usually by the time she reached you you’d stopped, but not tonight. You were thrashing around in the sheets, eyes still clenched tightly closed as you sobbed and screamed.

She placed the water down, her brows furrowed and sat herself on the edge of the bed. She grabbed at your arms to stop your thrashing before you hurt yourself

“ hey! You’re okay, look at me come on. Sweetheart, look at me. Just a dream. C’mon now “ your eyes flung open, terror swirling in your dilated pupils “ that’s it. Look around. You’re awake. You’re safe. You’re safe “

Clearly talking about it hadn’t helped. If anything it had made it worse.

“ no! Please- no! “

“ you gotta be quiet. Look. At. Me! “ she grabbed at your face, forcing your wild eyes to focus on her instead “ that’s it. Look at me. You see me? Not a fuckin clicker. No mushrooms in sight. You were dreamin again “ you seemed to register her words, slowly calming down as you took in her face in front of you.

“ Tess “ you whispered it with such relief, like some kind of wish in a prayer had been granted.

“ yeah. That’s right. It’s me “ you leaned into her touch, apparently grounding yourself again against the feel of her hands against your cheek. She watched you intently, the way you had known her for such little time but so clearly found comfort in her. In her touch.

She wondered if you knew the things she were capable of… if you knew the things she had done. Would you be so willing to sit there with her like that?

She let go of you and stood up.

“ no “ you said suddenly, fingers wrapping around her wrist as she attempted to return to the couch “ sorry I- “ she looked down at your hand, the way you held onto her “ I mean- can you. Could you… would you… stay? Here. With me “ she didn’t quite know why the word ‘ yeah ‘ flew into her mouth before she could even think about what you’d said. But she stopped it before it could escape “ please Tess. I’m so scared… I’d feel better if you were here “

“ I’m just around the other side of the wall “

“ please. You make me feel safe “ that took her aback. She didn’t have a single idea how to respond to that. Safe. She made you feel safe.

People didn’t feel safe around her. They felt afraid. They felt submissive to her power, they begged for their life, they felt dependent on her for their pills. They didn’t feel… safe.

But hadn’t that been what she had been trying to achieve? Hadn’t she wanted to make you feel safe. That you could exist around her and not be scared she’d hurt you. And it felt different yes, but. It felt nice too.

“ okay “ it came out far less confident than she’d wanted it to and she cleared her throat, trying to shake off the clearly obvious confusion she was experiencing “ yeah. Yeah. I’ll stay if you want “ you closed your eyes in relief and gave her a small smile, letting go of her wrist.

She watched you pull back the covers beside her and she got in, keeping a nice distance between you both. She had to admit it felt nice to be back in her bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable of things but anything was better than the couch for another night.

It felt strange laying next to someone though. She hadn’t done that for a long. Long. Time. Even when she had made her way through her string of flings and one time things, she hardly ever brought them back to her apartment. And they never slept in her bed if she did bring anyone back. She never let anyone invade her space. That felt too personal.

And yet there you were. In her bed. In her clothes. Finding herself annoyingly thinking about how much better that T-shirt looked on you than it did on her. And trying to ignore how unbelievably normal it felt having you there now. Even more so how normal and comfortable she was having you sleeping beside her.

She turned on her side to look at you, see how at peace you now looked. Your face no longer screwed up in terror, or eyes flashing wildly around the room. The only evidence of your dream the dried tear marks along your cheeks.

She reached out before she could stop herself, wiping at them softly with her fingers. There was a small scar on your left cheek below your eye, she let her finger trace it and wondered how you’d gotten it. She had too many scars to count now. Her face littered with nicks and dotted with freckles from the sun. She wondered if the face she was looking at now had changed in 10 years. If the face you now owned had looked different before the world fell apart.

She instinctively tried to pull away when your hand suddenly moved, placing it over hers gently and holding it in place.

She waited for the embarrassment to come, to ramble some excuse and probably excuse herself back to the couch. But your eyes remained closed, maybe in fear of embarrassing her. Whatever it was. She was grateful. And she let you hold her there, her hand still cupping your face as she fell asleep herself.

“ alright. Come here come look at these “ Tess broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the apartment for the last few hours, drawing your attention away from the book she had given you. She watched as you hopped your way over to the kitchen table, grabbing onto things to keep your balance whilst keeping your injured ankle off the floor.

She’d been working on papers for you for most of the day. Some half cooked insurance policy that made it look like you were a registered citizen if FEDRA happened to come knocking.

Even if they didn’t work entirely they’d still give her enough of a window to get you out before they returned again. And something was better than nothing she supposed.

“ FEDRA do random door to door checks, checking for infection “ she explained when you slumped into the chair next to her “ When they can fuckin be bothered to do it anyway… but if they do there’s a chance they’ll question why you’re here. This apartments only assigned to me, but as long as they think you’re registered it won’t matter. So. Fake papers. According to FEDRA your name is now Christine Hurley “ she didn’t mention that the real Christine Hurley was in fact in a ditch in one of the back alleys of area 2.

That the real Christine Hurley had thought trying to scam her and Joel with fake ration cards was a good idea, and had gotten a bullet in the forehead for her troubles.

“ and these will work? “

“ yeah. I make fake papers all the time to get me and Joel in and out of different areas. Should’ve been a forger pre outbreak. I’d have been rich as fuck” you laughed at that and she almost hated the way it made her heart skip. You were making her too fuckin soft and it was annoying. It was frustrating. She’d known you barely two weeks now, some of which you’d been unconscious, and yet you were making her soft. You were making her feel. Which was ridiculous

“ won’t they still question why I’m here?”

“ yeah but. They won’t really care. As long as you have papers they don’t give a shit. Found me with a girl here before. Idiot didn’t carry her papers with her. Arrested and… well fuck knows where she is now “ your face seemed to change ever so slightly at that and she wondered why “ just keep them with you”

“ you’ve had girls here before? What make a habit of rescuing people do you? “ she scoffed at that. Did she seem like the type to go around rescuing people every day?

“ no. She was here for… she was perfectly healthy. No rescuing “ it seemed to take you a moment before your eyebrows arched and you gave a nervous laugh.

“ oh “ she wasn’t embarrassed, she never had been when it came to sex or her enjoyment of it. She wondered if anyone else would’ve been. Maybe because you didn’t seem uncomfortable at the thought, in fact you seemed quite pleased about it. Something mischievous almost flashing in your eyes. “ interesting “

“ interesting? “

“ yeah. It’s interesting “ Tess raised an eyebrow but you simply shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips that you were seemingly trying and failing to suppress.

It didn’t seem mocking. More… knowing.

She changed the subject.

“ well. There’s your papers. Keep em with you “ you nodded and scanned over them, learning the new information about yourself whilst you were inside Bostons walls. Tess packed her stuff away and stood up, taking it over to the kitchen counter to hide it away in the small stash behind the back of one of the cupboards.

“ was she your girlfriend? “ Tess froze for a moment as you spoke, glancing slightly behind her to look at you. You were still looking down at the papers, like it was a casual topic to simply make conversation.

“ who? “

“ the girl. The one who didn’t have her papers “ she quirked an eyebrow and turned around , folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the counter

“ why’d you ask? “

“ is that a yes “

“ it’s not “ you hummed a response, flipping the first page over to look at the other which listed all of the work assignments Christine had completed “ she wasn’t my girlfriend. I don’t… I don’t do girlfriends. Or boyfriends for that matter “

“ ahh. You’re one of those people. Alright “ you said, smiling down at the paper and clearly no longer reading it

“ what’s that supposed to mean? “

“ nothing bad. I’m just observing “ you finally looked up, sitting back in the chair with amusement on your face. It was a nice change from the sadness that seemed to be settling over your face every now and again “ let me guess. You get bored. Or lonely. So you go out, find a find a girl. Or a guy. Fuck them. Then leave them. That right? “

It was right. And she hated that you’d read her so easily.

“ no “ you scoffed at that

“ sure. But lemme ask you. Do you really feel less lonely? When you’re with them? Or is it something else? “ she didn’t like where this conversation was going. At all. Or the fact that it genuinely made her think. No. Of course it didn’t make her feel less lonely. If anything it simply made it worse

“ I’m not lonely. I’m better on my own “

“ I don’t think that’s true “

“ yeah. Well you know nothing about me” her words were a little harsh. Defensive. She didn’t want people knowing about her, didn’t need someone trying to figure her out.

“ but I want to know “ you didn’t seem shocked by her tone, or her words.

“ you don’t “ she didn’t want to tell you. She didn’t want to tell you about herself or reveal things about her.

Because it would only scare you off. She knew it.

“ hmmm. I do “ you smiled as you said it and she couldnt help the way it eased the tension brewing in her muscles “ you don’t have to tell me bad stuff. Just. Tell me fun stuff. I’m so starved of like… girl talk “ Tess scoffed

“ there were no girls in your group? “

“ there was two. One was a kid. And the other liked to grab me when her boyfriend pissed her off. Then tell me after it was totally a ‘ one time thing and she was literally so straight ‘ “ you said with a laugh and bending your fingers into air quotes.

“ oh I’ve known a few like that “ Tess found she didn’t actually mind that topic of conversation. Because it was something she was comfortable with and something she could control. And didn’t directly reveal anything about herself. So she sat herself back at the table with you.

“ so was I right then? You just fucking your way through the QZ for the fun of it? “

“ I wouldn’t exactly put it like that “

“ so how would you put it “ you leant forward, chin on your hand and a cheeky smile plastered across your face. You were loving it. And Tess did have to admit talking to someone other than Joel was a decent change.

“ the worlds a pile of shit. I won’t deny myself small pleasures “ your grin grew at that

“ bet you have them lining up for you huh? That scary thing you do… yeah. I bet the guys don’t like that though, you whip them into shape too? “ you said and wiggled your eyebrows in a way she couldn’t help but laugh at. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d really laughed.

“ I prefer women. They’re more interesting to look at “

“ agreed “ even before the outbreak she’d preferred girls. It was true, they were far more interesting, softer, squishier, easier to navigate. Prettier. She couldn’t help the way her eyes wandered over you, mind suddenly running wild. And from the look in your eyes, so was yours.

Two evidently touch starved people in such close proximity, with that topic of conversation was never going to end well.

And so she distanced herself before she could put herself in a compromising situation.

“ I have to go do some work. But I’ll be back soon “ she said and stood up, heading for the door and grabbing her backpack “ don’t- “

“ open the door. Make any sound. Draw any attention to myself. Yes ma’am “ you said, that grin still stuck on your face “ oh and don’t go bringing anyone else back here. You might make me jealous “ you looked back down at your papers then, leaving Tess’ mind still reeling as she opened the door and headed out.

—————————————————————

The nightmares came again that night, seemingly worse than the previous, leaving you in floods of tears after you woke up. And to Tess’ surprise you fell into her arms, clutching at her tshirt as you sobbed and sniffled. She felt her previous annoyance at being woken up fizzle away in an instant, replaced with a deep ache in her chest. Pain at seeing you so upset when you had been so happy during the day.

It concerned her slightly how much she enjoyed your smile. The way your eyes lit up around her. And how much she hated the tears and the sadness now plaguing your features.

“ you’re okay sweetheart. I’ve got you “ she said softly, tucking your head under her chin in a way that surprised her as your sobs turned to hiccups and sniffles. You were gripping her tightly, fingers twisted into the material of her shirt as if you were afraid she was about to push you away and leave you there.

Maybe if you had done that on night one she would’ve. It was strange how much had changed in days. How being around you practically 24/7 had changed her thoughts. She didn’t know if she liked it. if she liked how you seemed to be wiggling your way through the cold exterior of her heart, like a worm trying to reach the core of an apple. Burrowing through until it could reach the centre and stay there.

That almost did make her let you go.

She couldn’t have that. She couldn’t have herself worrying about someone else. Caring about someone else. That was dangerous. And you didn’t care for her. You didn’t worry. So why should she? Why should she allow herself the stupidity of getting into something so clearly one sided. And something she so clearly didn’t have control over. It scared her.

She felt like she was in a car that had had its breaks cut, hurtling towards a brick wall and she had no way of bringing it to a stop.

She really was getting soft. Ridiculously so. There she was sat at her table flicking through a faded and damaged medical book she’d traded for on the black market the previous day, so she could try and figure out how to get you back on your feet again.

She was reluctantly letting it happen now. Just accepting that she was doomed. That for the short time you would be with her she would allow herself this pathetic softness. And the second you were gone she would have her control back. It was all your fault. Yours completely. Luring her in to believe she could feel. To believe she was allowed to feel. To believe that someone could possibly feel for her.

It was stupid. So. Fucking. Stupid.

“ so I’m pretty sure just a super fuckin bad sprain. Says here… two weeks it’ll normally start feeling better. But can take up to eight to fully heal “ she said, clearing her throat in some attempt to distract her thoughts.

“ it does feel better than when I first woke up. So two weeks is accurate “ she placed the book down and went over to where you had your ankle up resting on a couch cushion. She peeled away the bandages she’d wrapped tightly around it to give it some support, pressing and poking slightly at the fading bruises.

“ can you move it? Wiggle your toes and shit? “ you did just that and she shrugged. She was no doctor. But she patched herself and Joel up enough over the years “ alright. c’mon. Up “ she held out her hands and you took them, they looked so soft and delicate compared to hers. A scar here and there but somehow mostly clear. Nothing compared to the scratches and scrapes on hers. The scars on her knuckles from the numerous times she’d split them open.

Hands like that didn’t fit together. Didn’t meet. Hands like hers didn’t deserve the privilege of touching hands like yours. Hands like hers didn’t deserve to touch anyone in a gentle way. They were for business. For hurting. For pain. Yours weren’t. Yours were soft. Smooth. Yours were made for caressing and soothing, for receiving soft kisses on the back.

She was losing it.

She guided one of your arms around her shoulders and helped you get your balance.

“ don’t try walk. Just. Just try put your weight on it “

“ what if- “

“ don’t worry. I’ve got you. Just be careful yeah? “ she watched you carefully as you gently placed your foot down, eyebrows furrowing as you did and hissing in pain through your teeth “ I said carefully “ you sighed and put it flat on the floor but still heavily leaning against her “ feels okay? “

“ hurts “ Tess nodded and held you tighter around the waist

“ try not to lean on me so much. You won’t fall over. I’ve got a hold of you “

“ oh you’re gonna catch me? “ you said with a small laugh, eyes flickering up to hers briefly. The tone of your voice made her throat a little dry and she couldn’t figure out exactly why.

“ yeah. Yeah I got you “ your face screwed up slightly as she watched you out more of your weight onto it and get used to the feeling.

She held you there for a couple of minutes to regain your balance before slipping your arm off of her and holding your hands in hers.

“ now try walk. Hold onto me “

“ I don’t think I- “

“ just try. Look at me “ you watched her face carefully as she took small steps back, helping you to get used to the feeling of the ankle being used again.

She was glad Joel had work assignments that day. She didn’t think she’d ever live it down if he turned up at her apartment and saw that. Saw her holding you so carefully and helping you walk again like a child.

But she found in the hour or so that she did it, her cheeks began to hurt from smiling. For once in her life feeling like the world wasn’t on her shoulders, happy. Smiling. You smiling with her.

It was nice.

“ you got it! Nice work sweetheart “ she watched the utter joy on your face as you managed to keep your balance on your own and walk before falling into her arms.

“ fuck yeah “ you laughed seemingly now exhausted from the small amount of work. But she didn’t blame you after so long unable to do anything “ can we rest now? “

“ we can do whatever you want “ she said with a small laugh, arms wrapped around you to keep you up right.

“ anything? “ you asked quietly, smile fading slightly and looking up at her intently. Tess furrowed her brows, slightly confused at what exactly you were asking her.

It took her completely by surprise when you leant up and kissed her. Standing practically shell shocked as you pressed your lips to hers. It was only a few seconds and then you were pulling back, cheeks flaming red and closing your eyes with a shake of your head

“ god I’m so- Tess I’m sorry I don’t know why I- “

“ you need to rest “ she said and cleared her throat, not wanting to think about had just happened for even a second. Not prepared to deal with the spiral it would inevitably send her down.

All she knew. Was that she was fucked. well. And truly. Fucked.

“ just stay close to me. Try not to talk to anyone. And don’t touch anything“ Tess instructed as she pushed back a palette keeping one of the exits out of the tunnels covered

“ yes ma’am “ you said with a smile and a mock salute, following her through the gap and standing patiently as she dragged the palette back into place “ will there be officers? “

“ maybe. But the ones around here are just as bad as the smugglers. They’re some of our best customers for pills. Turns out sending people to the gallows everyday can fuck you up. Who’d have guessed? Just do as I say “ you stood ridiculously close to her, eventually wrapping your fingers around her wrist as you both entered the courtyard. She wasn’t in the mood to loiter and headed straight for the people she needed. Trading off cards for boots, a new jacket, some shirts and jeans.

Stuff you’d need. That she didn’t have a surplus of.

Ration cards were as precious as gold those days. And she was spending her hard earned ones on you. She definitely wouldn’t telling Joel about that.

She found she didn’t mind though. She wanted you to be prepared. Safe. And the boots she’d found you in barely had any soles left. You wouldn’t get far in those.

It had been a week since you’d kissed her and neither of you had mentioned it since. Falling back into that comfortable thing you’d been developing before. Where you could make her laugh and smile. And you would tease her for being too grumpy which would make you smile.

It was odd how normal it was starting to feel having you around. But she always ruined the moment by thinking about the future. About how empty her apartment would feel when you leave. She’d gotten used to you. And she almost didn’t want to let you go.

Maybe she could work something out, wrap some officers around to her thinking and get you some official papers. She could train you up to help her with her smuggling, show you the ropes and tell you who the best people to deal with were. And who to avoid like the plague.

It could be nice.

“ Tess. Haven’t seen you around for a few days. Where you been hiding? “ she felt you tense beside her as one of the FEDRA officers on her client list made his way towards her. He was a cocky son of a bitch, one who constantly tried to make her lower her prices and was notoriously known for being too heavy handed with the girls he paid for. And had been trying to get his way into her pants for months. Seemingly thinking offering her his dick was worth a half price deal on his pills.

“ don’t. Speak. Let me do the talking “ Tess said in a low voice close to your ear, looking like she was entirely too fascinated by the piles of clothes in front of her “ I’m not selling today Marcus. You know I don’t get shit until the end of the month “

“ I know. I know. Cant I be friendly and say hello? “ she rolled her eyes, hoping he’d just fuck off and leave her be now that he knew she didn’t have what he wanted “ who’s the new pet? Following you around like a little lost puppy? “ you shuffled closer to her if that was even possible, fingers tightly gripping at her wrist.

“ that’s none of your concern “

“ pretty thing “ he said with a smirk, craning his head to try and look at where you were attempting to hide behind her. She surprised herself for the millionth time since she’d found you, when she felt a burning jealousy in her chest. She didnt like the thought of anyone talking about you. Even looking at you. Thinking about you. Which was fuckin. Stupid. But she hated it “ maybe you come give me a visit when she’s done with you huh? “

“ I don’t think so “ her voice was bitter, unable to stop herself from appearing as jealous as she was

“ what? Cant she speak for herself? Come on Tess. It’s nice to share “

“ not this one “ she freed her wrist from your grasp and draped her arm around your shoulder instead, pulling you against her body. You sighed a slight sigh of relief at the contact, pressing yourself against her. She tossed down some more cards for the clothes and handed them to you “ put ‘em in your bag “ you did as you were told, the slightly worried expression that had been on you face still there. But a little less now she had a hold of you.

“ settling down? You’re not the type. You send her my way when you get bored. I’ll be waiting. I’ll even pay you double on my next batch “ Tess scoffed and turned to face him, trying to ignore the burning anger boiling away in her chest at the thought of him anywhere near you.

She saw the state he left some girls in, the thought of that happening to you was enough to make her want to put a bullet through his head in the middle of the courtyard.

“ you know that’s not my game “ he shrugged and raised his hands in mock surrender “ go talk to Robert he’ll point you in the right direction. But this one? She’s mine. So back the fuck off. And come find me at the end of the month for your shit. Okay? “ she enjoyed the way that even the officers listened when she commanded it, that the simple tone of voice and the reputation she was gaining was enough to make anyone do as she said.

“ alright alright. Stay out of trouble “ he said with another smirk, but not as smug as it previously had been “ and you “ he said, throwing a wink at you and walked away.

“ let’s get you home yeah? “ she said it loud enough that she hoped Marcus heard it. That you were going back with her. Not him. Never him.

“ yes please “ she could feel your eyes burning into her as you walked back, almost tripping up because you weren’t paying attention to where you were walking.

You seemed flustered. Frantic almost. She wondered if Marcus had shaken you up, overwhelmed you.

She couldn’t have been more wrong if she’d tried. Once you both got back into her apartment she realised what had gotten into you.

You grabbed at her arm when she closed the door, yanking at her with a confidence she hadn’t seen from you before. You pulled her close and to her surprise yet again, you kissed her. For the second time. It was a lot more confident than the first, more… desperate. Your lips pressing harder against hers than she’d expected.

She found herself kissing you back that time, turning you around and crowding you back against the door. She knew she shouldn’t haven given in, shouldn’t be letting her desire her in the way of what she knew was right and wrong.

But she couldn’t help herself.

Maybe it was the pent up jealousy and anger from down in the market, kissing you being the safest form of release for it. And the most enjoyable. Not that battering the fuck out of Marcus wouldn’t have been thoroughly enjoyable. But making out with you? It beat anything else by miles.

It made her regret not kissing you back the first time, when your lips felt like that against hers. Tasted like that. It felt cruel to have denied herself of it.

It was the feel of your fingers gently pushing at her shirt that snapped her back into reality, made her see some common sense again.

“ hey. Hey we can’t “ she said softly, hands soothing over your arms and closing her eyes for a moment. She sighed and looked at you, your cheeks flushed “ we can’t “ she didn’t explain herself. Couldn’t. Couldn’t tell you that she was getting far too attached. That sleeping with you could well and truly be the final nail in the coffin that she was burying herself in.

“ I’m sorry “ you said, clearly embarrassed. Tess couldn’t tear her eyes away from your lips. Parted and glossy with saliva. She wanted to kiss you again.

“ it’s okay. Don’t sweat it “ she looked away before she could.

“ just. The way you were out there. With that officer and and the way you spoke about me I- god “ she found a smile tugging at her lips as she watched your flustered attempt to explain, groaning and putting your head in your hands. She nudged her fingers under your chin to make you look at her, noticing the way your breath shuddered slightly. You were so easy to work up.

“ don’t be embarrassed “ she could practically see you melting under her gaze, the low tone of her voice and intense gaze making you look ready to drop to your knees. And wouldn’t that be a sight.

A sight she had to remind herself she did not need to see.

“ go empty your bag, take a shower or something i don’t know about you but that market makes me feel grimy as fuck. Then we won’t talk about it. Yeah?” You nodded your head and gave her a warm smile

“ yeah “ she stepped away from you, watching you head for the bathroom and close the door behind you. She ran a hand over her face, a deep sigh shuddering past her lips. What was she doing?

Usually she would’ve kept going. Would’ve happily fucked you and been fine about it. She was no stranger to doing just that and then moving on. But there was something about you. Something about the anger she had felt around Marcus, the jealousy and the possessiveness.

Even the fact that she was still sharing a bed with you. And most nights now she’d wake up to find you pressed against her. Cuddling like a couple as if it were the most normal thing. That she enjoyed waking up to your smile, your eyes. You.

What had you done to her?

“ I think you’re gonna have to go soon “ the realisation of the fact had hit her like a ton of bricks that morning. Or maybe it had been sooner than that and she had been forcing herself to ignore it.

Your lack of reaction told her you probably knew that.

Staying with her had never been a permanent thing. But she felt she was pushing her luck now, the fact you had managed to stay as long as you had was a miracle in itself.

“ they found a whole group of unregistered people in an apartment in area 3 the other day. FEDRAS upping their random checks and… look I’m good at fake papers but they can only do so much. If they find out you’re not a registered citizen they’ll have you up on the gallows before you can even tell them your real name “ she ran a hand over her face with a deep sigh “ and I can’t fuckin see that happen to you sweetheart I can’t “

You didn’t say anything right away, which she hated. It meant that her words hung there in the silence for a little too long. Gave her that minute too long to think about them and wish she could yank them back and shove them back down her throat.

Then your hand tentatively reached out for hers that was on the table, fingers ghosting over her knuckles before gently squeezing in what she assumed was your attempt at reassuring her.

“ I never thought I’d even make it into Boston and with your help I wouldn’t have. I thought you’d kick me out the moment I’d woken up. I never expected you to let me stay as long as you have and put yourself in a position… I’m trying to say thank you I guess. And that… I know… I know you wouldn’t tell me to go unless I really had to “

She glanced up at you and couldn’t quite read the expressions on your face. It annoyed her still. How she couldn’t get a grasp on you, couldn’t get into your head in the way she could with others. But that didn’t matter anymore did it. You were leaving.

“ I know this couple in a town not too far from here. That’s where I was coming from when I found you… Bill and Frank. I spoke to Frank last night on the radio and he said you can go there for a few days. They have more supplies than you can fuckin imagine they’ll give you what you need. Franks real good with the radio he’s gonna listen in, see what he can hear and find you a QZ that’s letting people in “ you nodded and gave her a small smile

“ how do I get there? “

“ I’ll take you “ there was never any question in that. You’d almost died on your way in. Never mind the way out. You nodded, processing the information.

Talking to Frank on the radio the previous night has been hard but now she was discussing with you it made it feel far too real. The stark realisation that you wouldn’t be in the room after tomorrow. You wouldn’t be in her bed, smiling at her when you woke up, loudly commenting on the book you were reading when a character did something you didn’t like. Just your presence .

“ c’mere for a second “ you rose to your feet instantly walking over to her and standing between her legs. She ran her hands gently along your legs and looked up at you, her gaze soft “ I’ll make sure you get there safe. I promise you Bill and Frank will help you out “

You straddled her thighs, looping your arms around her neck and pressing your forehead to hers. It felt too… romantic. Intimate. It felt exactly what she had been so terribly trying to avoid. but maybe she was stupid for ever thinking she could live with you and be around you so constantly and not end up in such a position. You were like a siren luring her in, filling her senses and overwhelming her with desire no matter how hard she attempted to fight it. No one would’ve been able to resist you. No one.

“ I’m gonna miss you “ you whispered, so close your lips brushed hers as you spoke “ I’m gonna miss your stupid face “ Tess chuckled at that.

“ stupid? “

“ mhm. So stupid “

“ so stupid you try kiss me any chance you fuckin get? “ it was the first time you’d both actually mentioned either of the kisses out loud. But she guessed it didn’t matter if it made things awkward now.

You were leaving. What did she have to lose.

“ I have a head injury I don’t think my thought process can be trusted “

“ it can’t “ you twisted a lock of her dark hair around your finger, another thing that felt casually intimate.

“ I guess I cant be blamed then. Cant be blamed for this either “ she refused to let her fears get the better of her that time. Taking the chance whilst she still had it, kissing you back with the same gentleness you were. It felt bittersweet. Nothing could be bad about kissing you, but the knowledge she might never get to kiss you again? That was painful.

“ I’m really gonna miss you “ you whispered once you pulled away, short breaths hitting Tess’ lips.

“ yeah sweetheart. I’ll miss you too “

Tess hadn’t anticipated the heavy feeling in chest on the last night with you in her apartment. Unable to sleep and simply staring up at the ceiling as you lay curled up beside her.

She reminisced on the weeks you’d spent with her. How much you’d managed to wiggle into her heart and make her feel things she thought she’d forgotten.

She felt stupid. But it was okay. You would be gone that time tomorrow, she would drink. She would forget. She would carry on. She would go back to normal. She tried to ignore the small voice in the back of her head telling her that wasn’t what she wanted now. But she had no choice.

She startled as your hand moved, sliding over her arm with a soft sigh

“ cant sleep either? “ she looked down to see your eyes wide awake and watching her. She’d miss the way you looked at her. Admired her. Never afraid.

“ no “ she turned onto her side, reaching out to tuck your hair away from your face “ it’s gonna be weird when you’re gone “ she confessed in a whisper, almost hoping it was too quiet for you to hear. It wasn’t of course.

“ yeah. I got used to looking at your grumpy face everyday “ she huffed a small laugh and rolled her eyes “ maybe I can write or something when I find a new QZ. Send radio messages. I don’t know. Something “

“ yeah. Maybe “ that would only hurt you both more she was certain of it. But she wouldn’t tell you that now. She’d let you hope and think of something good that the future may hold “ do you wanna try get some more sleep? “

“ No I can’t “ you said with a shake of your head and shuffled a little closer to her “ I can think of something to pass the time time though “ Tess smiled and slipped her hand around to the back of your neck

“ funny. So can I “ she pulled you towards her, capturing your lips with hers and pulling a soft sigh from you as she did. She regretted not kissing you more. Regretted not giving in to her thoughts whilst she’d had you, some half ditched attempt to protect herself. As if it still wouldn’t hurt.

You kissed different than anyone else she’d been with. Which sounded cheesy and she felt stupid for thinking it. But it was true. Girls that were being overly dramatic to try and get paid more or girls that were just like her. Lonely and looking for some form of human contact.

But you were… invested. Kissing her like you actually meant it. Tender and careful, soft moans into her mouth that were slowly working her up.

“ I thought of. Of something else. That. We could do. More than…kissing “ you whispered in between soft kisses “ if you want “ she didn’t need to second guess or even give it a single second of thought. You were leaving tomorrow whether she or you liked it or not. So what did she have to lose now? Nothing.

And who was she to deny herself of such pleasure in world full of a whole lot of pain. Especially now. Especially with you.

She pushed at you, placing her body on top of yours and caging your head between her arms, not giving you a second to even attempt to take control from her. Not that she thought she would really. Not when you had been so willing to do as exactly as you’d been told the entirety of your stay with her.

She felt ever so slightly out of practice. It wasn’t a lack of experience, Jesus if anything she had too much experience. Which she wasn’t entirely proud of but who the fuck cared? The world was ending. Had ended. She’d take any small ounce of pleasure she could seek out. You didn’t seem like the type for that. She couldn’t picture you slinking around in the less desirable areas picking up girls just because she wanted something- or rather someone- to do.

No. You seemed too… pure. For that. Tess wasn’t pure. Not at all. But she could pretend. She could pretend if that’s what you wanted. Though she wasn’t entirely sure it was. Not with the way your hands were grabbing at her, hands restless as they slipped under the hem of her shirt to touch her skin.

She kissed you until she had no choice but to pull away to breathe, immediately moving to your neck instead. Your skin was like a blank canvas and she was going to take great joy in marking it.

“ Tess “ you practically whimpered her name, pushing at her tshirt in some silent request to get it off. But she’d be damned if she was gonna let you get her naked first. Her fingers worked at the button up you’d gone to bed in, still working at your neck as she did. She hadn’t really liked the shirt on herself, so had happily let you take it when you’d picked it out. But on you? She almost didn’t want to take it off you completely. There was something about the thought of fucking you in her clothes…

She had to sit up to admire the view, reluctantly detaching her lips from your soft skin.

“ fuck “ she couldn’t help it, it left her mouth without her consent. The sight of you was enough to ruin her for life. Her shirt open and revealing your heaving chest, the blush creeping across your cheeks and the blossoming marks on your neck… oh she was fucked.

She reached out, grabbing at your tits and sighing heavily at how heavenly your body was. You’re back arching into her touch as she moulded the squishy flesh beneath her fingers, dropping her head down again to get her mouth on you too.

She was like a greyhound chasing a rabbit. Tunnel vision and a singular end goal, you the only thing in her sight. In her mind. Desperate to touch and taste and fill her senses with nothing other than you.

“ oh god “ you whined as she flattened her tongue, licking across your nipple and testing your reaction. She knew you’d be whiny. Knew you’d be someone she could work into a whimpering mess with ease.

She had a knack for knowing these things.

“ you’re fuckin beautiful “ she said as she rolled a nipple between her fingers, peppering kisses across your chest as she did “ so fuckin beautiful “ she was stupid to think she’d be able to forget you with a bottle of whiskey. How on earth would she ever get the image of you underneath her out of her mind.

You squirmed around beneath her, small sighs and whimpers escaping past your lips when she grazed her teeth against your skin. Your fingers lacing into her hair and scratching your blunt nails against her scalp.

She didn’t let herself get side tracked for too long, she had an end goal to reach that resulted in her head happily between your thighs. And with the sounds you were already making and the way you were squirming around, she got the picture you were more than ready for that.

She moved back up to be level with your face, kissing you again and letting her hands wander. Mapping out your body with her fingers so she could commit the thought to memory.

“ please Tess. I need you. God I need you just- please “ you whimpered into her mouth, raising your hips up against her in desperation. If you had been anyone else she’d have denied you. Made you beg and edged you until she was bored “ I waited weeks don’t make me wait any longer “

But she couldn’t do that to you. How could she possibly deny you of anything you wanted from her? When you were underneath her looking like that, making sounds like that.

“ weeks huh? “

“ yes “ that made her feel pretty fucking smug. But also made her feel slightly less stupid for… whatever it was she was feeling for you.

So she didn’t waste any time. Moving down your body after another kiss to your swollen lips.

She pulled your underwear down your legs soothing her hands over your thighs before pushing them apart. Making a point to leave the shirt on. Part of her felt like she shouldn’t be rushing. But she was desperate to taste you.

The noise that left your mouth when she parted you with her tongue was heavenly, she felt addicted in an instant. She wanted to hear it again. Over and over. She never wanted to hear a single other sound for the rest of her life. It paired with the look on your face had a small shuddering breath passing her own lips, in complete and utter awe of you.

She had wanted to draw it out, to have you writhing and whimpering and wreck you for anyone else. But the sounds you were making and the blissful look in your eyes… she was desperate to make you come. Desperate to see what you’d look like, what sounds that would draw out of you. Maybe it was a little selfish, but she didn’t care.

Your taste flooded her tongue and she was like a starving woman eating for the first time in days. She was feral.

Her arms looped around your thighs to keep you in place and she went to town. She wanted to feel you coming on her tongue, wanted to see the exact look on your face, know the taste.

She felt like she could stay there for hours. Days. Weeks. Trapped between the pillowy flesh of your thighs, senses flooded with you. Your taste on her tongue, your moans in her ears, soft skin beneath her fingers.

Your fingers pulled at her hair, whining her name in a way that made a smug smile creep its way onto her face.

“ you know it’s… it’s been a while so- “ you attempted to form a sentence, gasping and arching your back in between your words “ I don’t think I’ll last- fuck Tess “ that was practically music to her ears. And a lively boost to the ego that she had you on edge already.

“ that’s okay sweetheart, you wanna come for me? Yeah? “ you eyes were screwed shut and you nodded quickly, pushing her face closer to your cunt again which made her smile “ I got you”

It was only another minute or so until you were pulling almost painfully at her hair, holding on for dear life as you came on her tongue. You were stronger than she’d expected, managing to trap her head with your thighs even with her holding them, keeping her in place until your body went slack and she she came up gasping for air. With the biggest fucking smug grin on her face.

She looked up at you from her spot between your legs, admiring the blissful look on your face, the droplets of sweat along your sternum, her shirt still hanging open on you.

She made her way back up to your lips with a trail of kisses. Wet, soft, open mouthed kisses that made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“ you good? “ she asked, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips

“ good doesn’t even cut it “ she laughed as you beamed a smile, open your eyes to look up at her “ I wanted you to do that after the market “

“ I know you did “ she’d wanted to do it too. But she’d stopped herself like the idiot she clearly was. She moved to lay beside you, still watching you closely. She wanted to remember every detail of you. No matter how painful it would be. She wanted to remember.

“ you know what else I wanna do? “ you said, shuffling closer and trailing your hand along her waist and across the front of her. She grabbed at your hand before you could move it any closer, effectively stopping you in your tracks

“ please let me “ you whispered, eyes wide and glassy looking up at her like she was the last woman on earth. She wasn’t used to being looked at like that. Even with you. Even with you who had never looked at her with anything but some seemingly deep rooted adoration and affection. Never fear.

“ you don’t have to “ it was rare she let anyone reciprocate. She didn’t like the way it made her feel so… exposed. Vulnerable. Like some baby animal being lured into a lions den ready to be mauled to death.

You reached up with your other hand, gently brushing her dark hair away from her face and behind her ear. She didn’t entirely know how to react. She didn’t now what to do with such tenderness. It made her brain flash with an error code like some janky 90s PC. Her mind coming up blank when confronted with such care and compassion.

“ I know I don’t have to. But I want to. Please “ she was used to people wanting to please her. She could have any fucker running doing whatever she asked if she dangled a bag of pills in front of them, like donkeys working for carrots. But someone wanting to please her like that? To give simply because they felt like that, to not expect a single thing in return.

She didn’t know how to respond. Simply looked at you in silence. You seemed to see the cogs coming to a grinding halt in her head, eyes flickering over her face.

“ you’ll let me Tess? “ she still didn’t really now what to say. And it was starting to piss her off. She always knew what to say. She always knew what to do. But not with you.

You pushed lightly at her shoulder, urging her to lay on her back. And to her own surprise she found herself doing it, head falling against the pillow and your face re appearing above hers. That alone felt a little wrong. She never let anyone on top. Ever. Never sacrificed that power to anyone.

“ after all you’ve done for me “ you whispered against her lips, nudging your nose to hers “ you deserve something in return. Let me make you feel as good as you made me feel “ she could feel small tendrils of panic starting to wind their way up into her chest, twisting around her ribs and tightening. So she took back some control, hand slipping to the back of your neck and pulling you down to kiss her as hard as she could manage.

She knew you weren’t about to do anything bad. But it was simply the act of letting someone have her so vulnerable to them. It terrified her.

“ trust me “ you whispered in between kisses “ you trust me don’t you? “

“ yeah “ she surprised herself with how quickly she said it, how unbelievably certain she was of the fact. That she did trust you. In the weeks since you’d woken up she’d grown to trust you as much as she’d trust Joel. Maybe she was stupid for that.

She took a sharp intake of breath as your hand pushed past her underwear, fingers dipping into the wetness between her folds and softly circling her clit.

“ see, you’re wet. Pretty proud of myself for that “ you were trying to lighten the mood and it helped a little. A small smile trying to creep its way onto her face.

She was used to her own fingers and only her fingers. But yours were something else. Those soft gentle hands that she had felt looked so out of place in an apocalypse, felt like velvet. You watched her face intently and she almost felt embarrassed, it was odd for her. To be so exposed and so closely observed.

You slipped your fingers inside of her with ease, her eyes falling closed as she attempted to steady her breathing from the intrusion. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let someone do that, she’d forgotten how it felt. It was nothing like how it felt to do it herself.

You were reaching places she never could, breathy sounds escaping her even when she tried to stop them.

“ I wish you could see what you looked like right now “ your voice was almost awe filled, like you were simply amazed the sight of her. Maybe you were

“ shut up “ she said, breathless, pulling you down to kiss her again in some attempt to change the subject. Not wanting the attention on herself, sinking her teeth into your bottom lip to make you whimper into her mouth again.

She figured she’d be done just as fast as you had been, especially when you seemed to know exactly where to touch. You hit some place devastating, the tight knot in her belly growing and growing

“ fuck. Stay right fuckin there “ she gasped, fingers gripping your wrist as you did as she’d asked. Focussing on the same spot over and over again. She kept her eyes on you. Kneeling over her, in her shirt, the sight alone was enough to finish her off.

She pulled you down to her mouth again, scared she’d do something embarrassing like make noise, kissing you as she came on your fingers. Holding you firmly in place as her walls convulsed around you and her body rushed with heat, every muscle tensing before going limp and leaving her feeling like a rag doll.

She was breathless as she let you go, her skin on fire and prickling with heat.

“ well fuck me “ she mumbled. Throwing an arm over her eyes for a moment and to her surprise, laughing. You giggled beside her laying down and slinging a leg over hers, both your skins slippery with sweat. But she didn’t care.

“ I just did didn’t I? “ you said in the most innocent tone, simply making her laugh again. You both settled into a comfortable silence then, lazily kissing until you dropped your head.

As you both lay there, your head resting on her chest and hand over her heart, she almost wanted to cry. Which was fucking stupid. She didn’t cry. That wasn’t her.

“ you know you’re still gonna have to leave “ she whispered “ it’s not safe for you to stay here “ she felt your breathing stutter slightly and she knew you were crying. But she didn’t mention it. Didn’t want to embarrass you or risk making herself cry too by acknowledging it “ you know you still have to go “You gave a small nod. You knew. You knew this was always going to be the outcome, both of you did.

“ yeah. I know “ she was silent for a few minutes before gently pushing at your body, urging you to turn on your side. She pressed herself against your back, her arms sliding gently over your waist and her nose nudging lightly at the back of your neck.

“ couple more hours “ she whispered against your skin “ couple more hours. Then I’ll take you to the wall… couple more “ you rested your hand over hers and nodded again, tears welling in her eyes as you did. She refused to let them fall. She wasn’t that pathetic.

“ couple more hours “ you echoed softly, voice barely above a whisper in some attempt to hide the evident crack in your tone as you seemingly failed at keeping the tears in “ just a couple more “

#this took ridiculousy long to transfer but here you go #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #tess tlou #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfic #x you #smut #fluff #Anna torv #other characters for exposure:#Joel miller #Ellie Williams #Tommy miller

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rockybloo · 1 year

Note

Not a question just bumped into a emoticon that reminds me of nova lol

/)/)

( . .)

( づ🔪

I know you said Nova but this emoticon gives me heavy Anna Tommy vibes

#anna tommy #ask: anna tommy #nova is murderous with a knife tho #there's lore behind it #in a nutshell: meowlings and sharp objects are a dangerous combo #my art #ask #sugar-glasses

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daddy-joel-miller · 1 year

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Don't cry about Bill and Frank because as of February 1st 2023 they are alive and enjoying each other's company

#bill x frank #the last of us #hbo #cordyceps militaris #nick offerman #murray bartlett #joel miller #ellie williams #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #tess servopoulos #anna torv #tommy miller #gabriel luna #tlou #tlou hbo #August 29 2023

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viesanterieures · 2 months

Text

𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙖𝙣

#kinda wanna write a fic about this #cillian murphy #lenny miller #anna 2019 #cillian #cillian murphy moodboard #oppenheimer #tommy shelby #peaky blinders

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dilf-din · 11 months

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TLOU + the Onion headlines 2/?

#the last of us #tlou #the memes of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #jess edits #ellie williams #joel miller #tommy miller #anna williams

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madame-wilsonn · 2 years

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Hold me, love me, touch me

(Be the first who ever did)

MASTERLIST

Request: "it’s breaking my heart to see you like this" - maybe for Tommy? — @thesoldiersminute

Summary: If you hold me without hurting me / You’ll be the first who ever did

or: after running away from Grace’s funeral, Tommy finds some comfort in your arms

A/N: this is veryyyy different to what I usually post but i’ve had this idea for so long!! It’s inspired by a few scenes from the show as well as a few LDR songs. I would just like to add this quote from California because it fits the story well:

You don't ever have to be stronger than you really are When you're lying in my arms, baby You don't ever have to go faster than your fastest pace Or faster than my fastest cars

Also big big big thank you to my pal @hauntedheathcliff and my bg @huntingingoodwill for helping me out, i don’t think i would have finished and posted it if they weren’t here!! this is the first very long one shot i post, I hope you all enjoy because i’ve been working really hard on this and i think i got too attached to it oops…anyway have fun!! <3

Warnings: mentions of death, war and just angst overall; a bit of fluff (old habits die hard)

Word count: 6,464 words

Thunder rumbled. Its echo reverberating on the tall trees.

Tommy could almost hear it.

The grieving sky screaming. The leaves whispering. Murmuring the same haunting chant over and over.

She’s dead. He killed her. She’s dead. He killed her.

His vision blurred. For an instant, he thought he was finally crying until he noticed the rain. It was raining.

A drop. Then another. And another. And another.

The tears rolling down Tommy’s peaked cap turned into weeping. The sky wailed its pain, crying the tears the widowed man didn’t have.

He couldn’t bring himself to.

Was he so broken even the death of his wife wouldn’t affect him?

The man brought the half-empty bottle of whiskey to his lips. The golden liquid cast a gentle warmth on his entire being. Tommy welcomed it, only wincing as the taste burnt his lips.

At least he could still feel that.

The reason he couldn’t cry for his late wife, he knew it.

That very reason made him cower with shame. Run away from her mourning family. Hide from his own son who, only aged two, reminded him so much of her.

But how could he cry for a woman he had never been in love with?

He swallowed another sip.

No matter how many times he had foolishly tried to convince himself, he was never in love.

He cared for her. He was loyal. He was devoted.

But never in love.

No, his heart belonged to another.

He chugged at the bottle, drinking until he couldn’t breathe and his head felt dizzy.

He closed his eyes, the heavy rain making him shiver.

Her image, engraved on his eyelids, shook his heart. She had always been aware of it. There was a distance, a wall between them. He didn’t look at her the way she wanted him to— no spark, no tenderness in his gaze. They shared a house and a family but that’s all they would ever have.

If Tommy married Grace, despite her betrayal, it was only to do right by her.

And he never regretted it.

Thomas Shelby wasn’t a man of many regrets.

He was a man of guilt.

Marrying a woman he didn’t love to preserve her reputation— to protect her— just to get her killed instead.

That was all him.

He stared blankly at his hands, an empty chuckle leaving his lips.

Those hands. Dripping with innocent blood.

So much blood.

Blood on her porcelain skin. Blood on her powder pink dress. Blood on his pristine white shirt. Blood. Everywhere.

And it was all his fault.

Gulp.

If there was one thing worse than being responsible for Grace's death, it was the shame he felt.

Even dead, he couldn’t give her what she desired. He couldn’t mourn for her the way everyone expected him to. His heart couldn’t break for her the way it should because it never belonged to her in the first place.

Gulp.

His son was going to grow up without his mother. Tommy knew how that felt. It was the last thing he wished for Charlie. To grow up the way he did.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

The last drop of ember liquid slid down his throat and Tommy stared at the clear glass. There was no consolation. No rest for him. Not here. And certainly not at the bottom of that bottle.

He got up suddenly, stumbling through the large field into his car. Glancing at his pallid face in the rearview mirror, he sighed.

There was only one place Tommy could hope to find comfort tonight.

A soft knock on the door tore you from your thoughts. A swift glance at the clock pointed to the late hour as you slipped your robe on. You crossed your apartment warily, wondering who could visit in the middle of the night. Who could be brave— or stupid enough to defy the pouring rain outside?

You opened the door slowly, your heart pounding in apprehension.

“Tommy?” You opened the door slowly, heart pounding in apprehension. “Gosh, Tom, you must be freezing! A-are you okay?” you quickly ushered him inside.

Grabbing his coat and cap, you handed him a dry towel.

You hadn’t seen him since the morning, at the funeral. He left after his speech, handing Charlie to Polly and taking his car.

His brothers spent hours searching for him but it was useless. If Thomas Shelby decided he didn’t want to be found, then nobody would.

You hesitated for a moment. Maybe you should warn Polly or Ada, tell them he was with you.

Instead, you brought a comforting hand to his soaked arm. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”

“No, it’s alright. I…I don’t even know why I came here,” he slurred, his eyes darting around— always avoiding you.

Guiding him towards the sofa, you managed to get a better look at him.

To say he seemed tired was a euphemism. His eyes lacked their usual spark and his skin had a sick, grayish tone. He had aged twenty years in about a week.

Your heart clenched in your chest as the memory of the young man he used to be appeared. His clear laugh rang out somewhere in your mind and you thought about the long nights spent with the other. Up there, on the roof of some abandoned factory, dreaming of a gilded future.

“Do you think you can get up? My brother left some clothes here, you could change into something dry.”

Tommy took a cigarette out from the pocket of his black jacket. You observed him, watching the same ritual you’ve witnessed countless times. The cigarette between his lips, he muttered “It’s fine,” before inhaling the smoke. “I should go anyway. Shouldn’t have bothered you so late at night. ‘M sorry.”

Your hand reached for his. “No. You’re not going anywhere, Tom.”

He observed you as he felt your thumb running against his skin. Such a simple gesture yet it took Tommy a moment to recognize the small display of affection.

Your touch sent shivers down his spine, different from the ones he felt because of the cold— enjoyable. He decided to focus on the warmth emanating from your hand, sitting back down.

He wondered when was the last time someone had been so tender with him. The last time touch didn’t rhyme with broken bones and bruises. The last time he seemed important enough to be handled with care and gentleness.

“Hey,” you announced softly, taking a seat next to Tommy. “How’s your arm doing?”

He took a swig straight out of the bottle of champagne. You instantly recognized the “gift” offered by Grace as he handed it to you. “Feels like it's been shot,” he shrugged, his gaze fixed on his passed-out brothers.

Sighing, you swallowed some of the bubbly liquid again. Even though a part of you was thrilled to see the blonde barmaid gone— you had been wishing for that ever since she stepped into town— seeing Tommy so heartbroken snatched the joy away.

To your dismay, her arrival in Small Heath brought back parts of him you thought were lost in some deserted french field. It shattered your heart to see his smile, the somehow sparkling eyes, the lightness in his demeanor every time—and only when she was around.

And yet, if it meant him being happy again, then you could deal with the disappointment and the jealousy and the yearning. You could handle watching his joy from afar. Even if you weren’t the reason behind his smile, even if you weren’t part of it. You just wanted him to be happy.

But it was all a lie.

Who would have thought it was merely a scheme?

Probably the oldest one in the book— to get close to the man in charge and trick him into handing the information on a silver platter. No one suspected her. Not even Polly.

She had managed to fool all of you, the same way you’d fool a child into drinking some nasty medicine.

“And you?” you finally ask, turning your head to observe Tommy. “How are you?”

You noticed the clench in his jaw, the pause—a fraction of a second too long before answering “Good.”

"Really good or ‘just leave me alone’ good?”

He grabbed the bottle from your hands, staying quiet and you took this as a sign to ask again. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

One of the things Tommy cherished the most in your relationship was his ability to be honest with you. You seemed to understand, or at least accept what others qualified as flaws. He knew he could ask you to go away if he wanted to without upsetting you. It comforted him in some way.

But then, the thought of you leaving made his heart clench painfully in his chest. The swirl of emotions was too much. Too much for him to deal with alone.

His hand searched for yours, squeezing it gently. The words didn’t need to be uttered. You sat closer to him and for some reason Tommy couldn’t understand, his head rested on your shoulder.

It wasn’t calculated. He didn’t even think of it.

One minute he was carrying his heavy heart alone. The next, you stood by him and lifted some of the burden away.

Your fingers made their way to the shaved part of his head and Tommy closed his eyes. He could forget about everything. Forget about the throbbing pain in his arm. Forget about Danny Whizzbang. Forget about her.

He could just lean on you for a little bit. Focus on the feeling of your nails grazing his skin. Let the faint scent of aldehydes wrapped in roses suffocate the demons in his mind.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself, Tom,” you whispered after a moment of silence.

He scoffed and you brought your hands to his face, lifting his head from your shoulder. “I’m serious,” the fierce look in your eyes confirmed your words. “It could have happened to any of us. And you’ve been through so much. You wanted to believe you could finally allow yourself some peace,” your thumbs ran across his cheekbones. “It was with the wrong person but you still deserve it. You deserve good things.”

Tommy stared at you, almost bewildered. How could you say those words to him— and believe them when you knew what he was? He wondered if your friendship affected your judgment. Made you less able to separate the man he was from the memories you had with him.

As if you had been reading through his mind, you interrupted his ruminations. “I know you’ve convinced yourself you were all bad and evil but you’re wrong. The voices in your head are wrong. There is still good in you, Tom. I know there is, I can see it,” your hand slid from his cheek, dropping to his heart. “Right here.”

Tommy could only observe you. The determination in your voice, the earnestness in your eyes, you were convinced with your own speech. So much that a part of him began to trust you.

You smiled softly at him and he swore he felt his heart miss a beat. “You’re going to meet a nice girl. And she’ll be funny and sweet. And she’ll probably have the patience of a saint to deal with your stubborn arse.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your remark. “But she’ll love you more than anything else and she’ll be lucky because you’ll love her just the same.”

And while Tommy listened intently, the only thing he could think about was you.

Everything you described. Everything you said.

You. You. You.

It was you.

Tommy pressed his palms against his eyes until light dots appeared in his vision. He was beyond exhausted. His head, his arms, his legs ached. His entire body was begging him to surrender. Wave the white flag and give up.

He didn’t know how many battles he could still fight. How many blows he could still stomach. How many times his heart could still be torn apart and keep going.

If all of this was extra, why did it hurt so much?

“I called Polly,” you cut Tommy’s train of thoughts, entering the living room. “Charlie’s alright, he’s asleep now. She is staying at Arrow House with Ada.”

Tommy sighed, his gaze fixed on his trembling fingers. You observed him quietly, noticing the habit he had when something bothered him. He kept clenching his jaw anxiously. To the point you worried he might dislocate it.

Trying to catch his attention, you cleared your throat. Once. Twice.

And realizing he was far too gone into his own mind, you lightly touched his shoulder.

“You should get some rest. You’re tired.”

“I’m alright,” the response was short. Cold.

Anyone else would have backed down. Apologized, even. But you sat next to him, your concern only growing and decided to ask, “When was the last time you slept, hm?”

The dead silence that followed said it all.

You shook your head, a desperate sigh filling the quiet room with your worry.

“I wish there was something I could do,” your fingers brushed against his damp hair. “It’s breaking my heart to see you like this, Tom”

He stared at you, feeling your breath tickling his cheeks— the soft summer breeze embracing him after a hot, straining day.

And something in the air shifted.

Maybe it was the comfort Tommy found in your eyes. Maybe it was the way his heartbeat seemed to chant your name. Maybe he just wanted to.

But he leaned in.

His lips caressed yours, almost timidly before he moved closer. He was kissing you. The dwindling ember ablaze at the sweet taste of your lips mixed with whiskey and tobacco. A precious nectar Tommy knew he could never live without now that he had tasted it.

It seemed to be the only way to bring air into his lungs. Yet somehow, he felt breathless at the same time.

The feeling of his lips— so strangely soft made you dizzy. Your brain didn’t seem to work properly as you kissed him back. Tommy. Kissing you.

You almost giggled, a warm rush spreading in your chest and your head and everywhere in your body.

The only thing keeping you from bursting in flames was the cold. From his hands. His shirt. His hair twirling around your fingers.

You relished it. Cherished his calloused skin against yours. The dazzled lightness in the air.

At that moment, you were no more than a simple woman. And he was a simple man. Kissing you so passionately in the faint twilight.

Your hand touched his, grazing the golden band on his finger and you felt the bubble around you explode.

You weren’t a simple woman. He was far from a simple man.

You pushed him away, regretfully. Your body was almost leaning in again, craving more of the electricity skipping through your veins.

You wanted to be his. And him to be yours.

But not like this.

You knew Tommy like you knew your way back home. He couldn’t address his grief properly. He had never really learned, even after years of practice. The only thing he was used to was taking the pain away, no matter how. No matter the consequences he’d have to face.

And you were well aware of that.

Tommy wasn’t kissing you out of love or even out of desire. He was kissing you to feel better. You couldn’t let that happen. Not to him. Certainly not to you.

But the look he gave you as he realized what you had done made you want to throw it all away.

To hell with morals and honorable principles!

Who needed that when you could kiss him over and over again? When all you had to care about was his heart pounding against your palm, raindrops cooling down your flushed cheeks.

“Tom…” you resigned yourself.

No, you couldn’t just throw it all away. He was mourning his dead wife and he was in pain. You couldn’t take advantage of that.

His hand left your waist as if it had burnt him and guilt soon replaced the gentle warmth in your chest. But it was for the best.

At least, you tried to convince yourself it was.

The terrible humiliation was nothing compared to the regret he’d feel as the sunlight cleared his mind. He couldn’t realize it now. Too intoxicated, protected by the moon’s sheltering shimmer.

You had to keep your composure. Don’t let yourself be fooled by the comforting embrace. It was all an illusion. Giving in meant feeding the sliver of desire you tried so hard to contain.

You couldn’t live off some false hope.

You couldn’t risk your own sanity just so he could choose her.

Not again.

Running through the empty halls of the company, heart pounding in your chest with worry, you prayed.

Please let him be there. Please make sure he’s safe. Please. Please. Please.

Your heels hit the hardwood floor, each step resonating through the halls of the empty building. Out of breath, you almost fell to the ground when the engraved glass doors appeared in front of you— at last, liberation.

You pushed them open, not paying attention to the sound of the slamming doors. A relieved sigh left your lips, your gaze falling on him.

In his armchair, almost asleep, Tommy didn’t budge at the noise. He lazily opened one eye, observing your disheveled hair, how breathless you were. Sitting up, questions bubbling in his chest, he opened his mouth but you interrupted him before he could say a word.

“Where the fuck have you been, eh?” you yelled, walking into the office. Tommy left his chair, carefully joining you in the middle of the room. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

He only stared at you, waiting for the anger to settle down. He realized how worried you must have been, how terrified it was to not find him after he left so suddenly. But he could only feel relief.

Two hours ago, he was kneeling in front of a grave, waiting to be shot. And now, he was with you, getting a well-deserved earful for disappearing.

Tommy had probably never been this happy to get yelled at.

“…And nobody knew where the fuck you were! And then there were shots and we were all running around, even got my new shoes ruined!” you rambled, your hands waving around. “Arthur told me it was over but I couldn’t find you! I searched everywhere, even asked that posh girl who looked after your horse! And I swear to God, someday I will put a leash on you! Disappearing like that! I-“ You stopped abruptly, your expression changing as you noticed the bright red staining Tommy’s temple “You’re bleeding. Why are you bleeding? What…”

“I’m okay,” he replied softly, feeling a change in the air. You closed the distance between you, your hands reaching for the injury.

“What happened to you?” You whispered, your voice higher than before.

Thomas’s hand wrapped yours and he smiled, trying to reassure you. “I survived, Y/N. I’m alive.”

Your lips wobbled, eyes watering and your anger wafted away, replaced by a gut-wrenching worry.

The words he uttered to you at the races before he left took on their full meaning. You couldn’t realize it at the time but the way he looked at you, the way he kissed your temple and promised to come back.

It had felt a little too familiar but you couldn’t remember why.

He was saying goodbye, that’s why. He promised something he wasn’t sure he would keep just to assure your peace of mind.

Suddenly, you were back on the train platform, watching him walk away to a most certain death, completely powerless.

You almost lost him today. Again.

He was gone but then he came back.

Maybe there was a reason. Maybe you were granted a second chance after letting the first one go. Who knew if you would get another?

You couldn’t waste it.

You couldn’t let your last chance slip through your fingers.

You couldn’t risk losing him.

Not without him knowing about your feelings.

“Tommy, I…”

His arms wrapped around your waist stopped the words on the tip of your tongue. He held you close, so close his heart beat right over your ear. One gentle kiss on your temple. His fingers threading through your hair, you closed your eyes.

“I’ll buy you new shoes. I’ll buy you all the shoes you wish for. Even hire a cobbler just for you,” he whispered, tightening his embrace.

“Forget about the shoes…” you started, trying to find the right words.

But what could you say?

Nothing seemed enough. All so insignificant compared to the love you carried like a cherished picture in a locket— always close to your heart.

“I have to tell you something,” he interrupted, a soft smile brightening his expression. “I’m going to be a father.”

“What?” you asked, leaning back.

“Grace’s pregnant with my baby. I’m going to marry her and we’ll raise him together.”

And the world seemed to crumble around you.

Who knew a sentence as simple as this could have the same effect as a thousand cuts?

You could only stare at him, your mind playing the words over and over again— a broken record you were doomed to endure for the rest of your days.

Your eyes burnt with bitter tears attempting to escape their prison. A million questions rushed through your brains, striking each other until nothing made sense.

Not her. Not her. Anyone but her.

You would find another way. Raise the child yourself if you had to. But not her.

He couldn’t fall for her again. You had to talk him out of it. Reason with him.

You couldn’t lose him like this.

“Y/N?”

You focused your attention back on Tommy, noticing the frown forming between his brows.

He expected your answer. Hell, his decision probably depended on your next words. But the idea of a baby…

He had given up on that.

The dreams of a happy, somewhat normal life had been buried in the tunnels. Covered in mud. Lying next to the decaying bodies of his comrades.

And now, it was so close to him. He could reach through the mud and get this life back. He could try to leave the war behind. Let a new life forgive all the lost ones.

Let the flowers grow over the old tunnels.

You bit the inside of your cheek. No, you couldn’t ruin that for him. He went through enough. He deserved some rest.

No matter how selfish you wanted to be, he would always be above all foolish sentiments.

A forced, poorly attempted smile made its way on your face— locking the tears away.

“I’m just…I’m so happy for you,” your voice broke as relief washed over his tired features. He hugged you again, chuckling. “You’re going to be a wonderful father,” there was no hesitation. Only the truth.

“And you’ll be an even more wonderful aunt,” he kissed your cheek, rubbing your back. “Don’t tell Ada I said this.”

You clutched his jacket in your hands, biting your lips hard enough a faint metallic taste covered the bile in your mouth.

The familiar feeling was here again. An impression of déjà-vu. Back on the train platform. Watching him leave.

But this time, he wasn’t coming back.

“I’m sorry, Tommy, we can’t…” but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t listen to whatever excuse you had.

The only thing worse than being rejected by you would probably be hearing you say the words.

I don’t love you, Tommy.

No. It would be the fatal blow. He wasn’t ready for that.

He got up, the alcohol in his blood seemingly gone— deserting, leaving him powerless.

“Tommy, please”

You kept saying his name like it mattered. Like it would change anything.

Shaking his head, he pulled his arm away.

Nothing could mend the raw rip, tearing his heart in half.

It made no sense to him. He was convinced there had been something.

You.

You who stood by him through everything.

You were the only constant.

Your relationship, his only haven— the solid deck on vicious waters.

Never breaking. Never busting.

What would he do if the deck shattered?

Tommy didn’t have the answer to that question. He didn’t want to know.

The cold pit in his stomach as you leaned back was enough to make him leave. He couldn’t bear looking you in the eyes, terrified of what he’d find there.

He had to go.

You followed him through your apartment, calling his name. He wasn’t going anywhere, you wouldn’t allow it. Passing the door meant giving up on your friendship.

It couldn’t end this way.

“Tom, listen to me,” you pleaded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” struggling to find your words, you felt the lump in your throat growing until you were suffocating. “Please, don’t go. You can’t go now, you can’t.”

He grabbed his jacket. The sound of your voice withering almost made him stay. Force a smile on. Tell you it was alright.

No matter how hardened he grew with the years, he never could stand you crying. Ever since the day he met you.

You had scratched your knee on the dingy pavement and he carried you on his back. He even stole a chocolate bar to console you— the little girl with braids and the sweetest laugh his ears were blessed to hear.

He swore he’d do anything to bring the smile back on your face. Engrave the lightness it carried in his heart.

You would know no woe. No grief.

Not as long as you had him.

You clenched your jaw, desperate tears starting to roll down your cheeks. Deep down, you knew your choice was the best but the sight of him leaving—even worse, hating you, made you sick.

“Tommy,” your voice broke, “Please, you can’t leave now. Please…,” one last wretched attempt to get him to stay.

Time began to flow so slowly you could swear it stopped.

The clock didn’t tick. The fire in the hearth didn’t crack. The wind didn’t blow.

The world around you held its breath. Waiting. Carefully listening to your beating heart. Pounding against your ribcage. Each thump edging you to the forlorn void of despair.

But if there was one promise Tommy wouldn’t break, it was the one he made to the little girl with her braids and her scratched knee.

His greatest weakness.

You.

Fingers freezing on the doorknob, Tommy listened to your quiet sniffles. He bit his tongue, feeling the guilty grip around his heart.

The moment of hesitation— only a few seconds but it was enough time to put your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” your forehead rested against his as you whispered, your breath brushing against his lips. “But we can’t do this,” Tommy clenched his jaw, his shoulders slouching in apprehension. “You’re only doing this to feel better and I wish I could help you, I do. But I won’t let you wreck everything just to regret it tomorrow and probably the days after…because you love her.”

A trembling breath left your lips. “You're in love with Grace and you’re mourning and…”

“What?”

Tommy pushed you away, deep creases forming on his forehead. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Tom…”

“What are you talking about? Why would you say that, eh?” confusion in his voice turning into venom, the lack of sleep grinding his nerves.

“Y-You love her. You love Grace, she was your wife and I’m sorry if…”

“Is that what you think?” he spat out as your hands reached for him again.

The fatal blow.

Unexpected. Sharp. Lethal.

“What do you mean?” you stared at him, puzzled at his brusque reaction. “Grace was…”

“Stop saying her fucking name!” he snapped, eyes maddened by his own anguish.

The mere sound of her name was enough to stir the guilt overtaking his body— stabbing the same bleeding wound over and over.

You stood before him, not knowing how to act.

Tommy rarely lost his cool. He always had the upper hand over his own emotions. You were used to that. You had learnt to deal with his seemingly unshakable façade.

This was different.

“Is that what you think, hm?” he repeated, cutting the stunned silence reigning “You think I was in love with her?”

You had no idea what to reply. You couldn’t grasp the reason behind his outburst. His anger and his hurt were part of a puzzle missing its central piece.

Twisting his words in your mind, you tried to find a clue— anything to help you understand. The accumulation of distressing events was the most obvious answer but it still didn’t explain everything.

“Tom, I don’t understand, I…” you finally admitted, powerless faced with his own torment.

Your confession made him scoff. Tommy’s chest heaved and he clenched his jaw, biting back the words burning his tongue.

The turmoil of emotion began to overwhelm him and he knew that as soon as he opened his mouth, words would flow uncontrollably. The wise decision was to walk away.

Walk away and blame the concerning amount of whiskey in his blood the next day.

Just walk away.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Of course.

The heavy lump in Tommy’s throat seemed to explode, spreading its vehement poison across his body.

“I was never in love with Grace.” he spun around, facing your defeated expression “I was never in love with her because I’ve always loved you. You.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t say anything. But Tommy didn’t expect you to. “She was the mother of my son and I cared about her but the way I love you… You are the only woman that ever mattered and without you…” his voice broke, eyes watering.

The wave of emotion washed over him with such intensity, air barely reached his lungs.

Drowning.

He felt like he was drowning. Condemned in a tormented sea. Desperately gasping for air yet only allowing more water in.

Tommy considered the idea of forsaking— let the water burn his throat, churn at his insides as long as he could rest. As long as his soul didn’t ache.

But at the very last second, he felt hands pulling him out.

You embraced him, arms tightly knit around his neck, his head resting against your shoulder. Tommy closed his eyes, treasuring the small moment of peace granted to him.

Feeling the strength in his body failing, you guided your bodies to the carpeted floor. His arms tightened around you and you sighed.

His confession had been everything you ever wanted to hear and you desperately wanted to believe him. Craved to whisper those same words back.

But could you trust the words of a man so inebriated he would probably not remember by the morning?

“It was all an illusion”, you reminded yourself.

Tommy, your friend, may have been the man you loved but he was also a widower. Maybe it made no sense to act this way and maybe you should believe him because why else would he say this?

But it was unfair to expect him to “make sense” after what happened to him.

He needed comfort. He needed to stop being the man in charge, the “always standing” one. He needed you to be his friend.

Only that.

Your hands rubbed his back soothingly and you kissed the side of his head, chasing the voice in your head begging you to give in.

For now, you’d have to content yourself with that.

A gentle embrace, mending the scattered pieces of his heart in the dark hall. Tommy couldn’t let go. Your arms provided the solace he longed for—the lifebelt keeping him afloat.

And as you held him, he could only think about the time. The time he lost. The time he could have had.

If only he had said something…

The train platform turned into a sea of teary goodbyes, children escaping their mother’s grasp and boys, men— soldiers, leaving for France.

Clutching Tommy’s army jacket in your hand, you felt his fingers brushing the tears on your cheeks.

“Come on, sweetheart, you know I hate seeing you cry,” he attempted a soft smile.

“Then don’t leave us.”

And he knew he would. He would do anything if it dried your tears and erased the sad pout on your face.

“Please, just one smile. I want to see you smile.”

In case it was the last time.

Tommy searched through his pockets, waving a bright blue box in front of you. “Now you can’t cry anymore,” he muttered with a sly smirk.

You stared at the chocolate bar and couldn’t help the grin making its way through your tears. You swung your arms around his neck, cutting his breath short as you hugged him.

Tommy returned the embrace, closing his eyes.

He could never open them again and stay with you. He wouldn’t have to go anywhere. Just stay. Thread his fingers through your hair and kiss you and love you. He could just stay.

Neither of you wanted to let go. You were pretty sure neither of you could.

As long as you had him. As long as he had you. Nothing could reach you. Nothing could hurt you. If only you held onto each other tighter.

But a loud, piercing whistle resonated through the station, breaking the tender embrace. Tommy took a moment to admire you. Gentle features and radiant smile. That’s how he wanted to remember you. His thumbs reached under your eyes. No tears.

Not today. Not ever.

He wasn’t sure he could keep standing there as you cried and not cry himself. Blinking away, his jaw clenched, he let his fingers trail down your cheek.

His touch was so soft, so light—like feathers tickling your skin— it almost made you forget why he was leaving.

You tried to smile, even as a few rebellious tears tried to escape.

Oh, my darling Y/N...

And he thought he might finally admit it. Confess right here on the noisy train platform. Whisper the words into your ear and make you promise you’ll wait for him.

He was already walking towards death, he might as well free himself of the secret he kept for so long— the same way a condemned man would.

“Tommy?”

He focused his attention on you, the delicately embroidered handkerchief close to your nose. Your eyes reddened with tears, cheeks still damp.

Yes, he could say it.

But what if he didn’t come back?

What if he told you he loved you and died in some french field? What if the only thing you got back from him was a box of his belongings and nothing else?

“I…I just…” You wouldn't handle it. You were already terrified of what would happen, he couldn’t add to that some foolish confession just to feel better.

He couldn’t risk it.

“I’ll miss you. Take care, yeah?” he leaned in, kissing your temple.

“Come on, Tom! We’re gonna be late,” Arthur’s deep voice urged him.

“I’ll write to you all the time,” you promised, your hand reaching for his.

Tommy didn’t let go, holding your fingers until he was too far. He stepped onto the train, his eyes always set on yours.

One last glance. One last smile.

And he was gone.

Arthur and John found a compartment where they set their bags, greeting other soldiers. But Tommy wasn’t paying attention.

He had a chance. He could have said it.

No. No, it would have been too selfish to blurt it out and leave. He wanted to tell you he loved you but not under Death’s malignant threat.

He would admit he loved you only if he could live to fulfill that promise. When he could take you dancing. When he could be sure to fall asleep kissing you and wake up just the same.

What was the point of saying it if he never had the chance to show it?

But could he really risk dying without ever telling you?

If he died and you never knew he loved you, he would regret it.

One last whistle resonated through the train station. The train wobbled, slowly moving.

No. No. No.

Tommy left the compartment, running to the corridors.

“Tom, what the fuck are you doing?”

The last thing he wanted was to break your heart if he didn’t come back. But he couldn’t leave without you knowing just how much he loved you.

He just had to make his way back to you.

And he could. He could fight and floor his opponent if it meant coming home to you.

He just had to say it. He had to.

He would never forgive himself if he didn’t.

Pushing away soldiers, ignoring their exclamations and complaints, Tommy finally reached the last car.

It was full but it didn’t matter. He burst in, running towards the window. Quick. Before it’s too late.

I love you.

Soldiers were staring at him as if he was mad.

Maybe he was.

I love you.

He leaned out, almost tipping over and falling. He didn’t care.

I love you.

Tommy spotted you amongst the crowd.

I love you. I love you. I...

But the train had already left the platform.

It was too far. It was too late.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, defeated.

No one noticed the tears in his eyes. The train rushed under the dim tunnel as regret filled his body with immense darkness.

Too late.

You woke up with a groan, shy rays of sunshine tiptoeing through your quiet apartment. But you couldn’t enjoy the warm weather. Not when every limb, every muscle, every fiber of your body ached.

On the floor. You had fallen asleep on the floor.

You groaned again, stretching your sore legs. As you tried to get up, the night before came back to your mind.

At least you had an explanation for your aching neck.

You called for Tommy, expecting to find him in the living room but the room was completely empty.

The exhaustion in your body was enough to not question it too much as you made your way to the kitchen. You needed a cup of tea. And maybe some sleep in your bed.

But as you moved towards the table to prepare your breakfast, you noticed a small piece of paper.

Recognizing Tommy’s clear writing, you felt a warm rush through your body and a smile creeping on your tired features.

#ma ptite bombasse 🥰#tommy <3 #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fluff #peaky blinders #anna's fics #500 followers celebration #anna's grand ball #peaky blinders

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