#tommy's ocs

[tommytonebender]

tried out a more retro style to fit that whole 60's tokusatsu vibe I'm going for with my Venture Bros OC Maple

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Mobster

Chicago - 1931 The Height of Prohibition The mafia is earning top dollar smuggling alcohol into the country. And one mobster has his eye on you.

Yandere! Mobster who's a made man, who drives a nice car even after the stock market crash forced most people to sell theirs.

Yandere! Mobster who wears a tailored suit and fedora, his black hair swept back. Who everyone in the neighbourhood says is a good guy, a decent man, even if he does work for the don.

Yandere! Mobster who pulls up next to you when you're walking home from work. It's late and clouds are scudding across the moon.

Yandere! Mobster who leans out his window and offers to drive you home. Who says these streets ain't safe for a pretty girl like you.

Yandere! Mobster who's known you since you were children. Two kids from immigrant families, playing together in the tiny bits of open space your apartments could offer.

Yandere! Mobster who keeps looking at you and marvelling at how grown up you both are. Where did that scruffy little girl go? And when did you get so pretty?

Yandere! Mobster who spends the whole drive chatting about old times. Who makes you laugh at his stories about running from the landlady and stashing his school books behind the canteen.

Yandere! Mobster who leans over you and pulls the door closed when you move to get out. Who looks you dead in the eye when he asks if you're having trouble with your rent.

The mob is a big part of the community afterall, and he knows just about everything.

You drop your eyes, embarrassed. Your brothers have their own families to care for, you say. Things are hard but if you pick up a few more shifts at the factory, you might manage it.

Yandere! Mobster who sighs and digs in his suit pocket. Who pulls out a stack of cash and counts it right in front you.

Yandere! Mobster who offers you enough for two months of rent. A small fortune to someone from your part of town.

You shake your head, horrified. You can't afford the interest, you tell him.

Yandere! Mobster who scoffs and asks if you really think he's offering a loan when you've known each other for years? It's a gift, to keep your mama out of the cold.

Yandere! Mobster who smiles at the hesitant way you accept the money. You're too proud to ever ask for help and he knows it. Just like when you were kids.

Yandere! Mobster who gets out and opens the car door for you like a gentleman, even if he knows the whole apartment building will talk about it.

Yandere! Mobster who grins that charming, good guy smile even though he has a gun holstered under his jacket and a shovel in the trunk. Who says he'll consider things even if you cook him dinner some time.

Yandere! Mobster who visits your ma while you're at work. Who tells her he's interested in you and wants her blessing. And your ma is all too happy to give it. He's such a good boy, she says, and she knows he's always had a soft spot for you.

Yandere! Mobster who insists on driving you home after work everyday. Even when you blush and complain that he's going out of his way.

Yandere! Mobster who gratefully accepts the gifts you offer him. Fresh baked bread, jars of your mama's famous marinara sauce, homecooked meals... Who eats so much better when you take care of him.

Yandere! Mobster who eventually runs out of luck and straight into trouble. What was supposed to be a routine whiskey delivery turns out to be a sting operation.

Yandere! Mobster who sees his partner get a hole blasted right through him and almost die. Who fires at the cops until his tommy gun is red hot and smoking. Who ends up with so much blood on his hands he ain't sure it will ever wash off.

Yandere! Mobster who finds himself at your door afterwards, his coat drenched by the rain.

Yandere! Mobster who doesn't resist when you pull him inside and strip away his jacket and shirt. There's blood on your hands after you hang up his coat, and you pretend not to notice it.

Yandere! Mobster who can see your curiosity fighting against your sense. In the end, you don't ask him a single question about it.

Yandere! Mobster who sinks gratefully into the bath you draw for him. And who falls asleep the second his head hits your pillow.

Yandere! Mobster who's gone by morning. His bloodstained coat gone with him.

Yandere! Mobster who asks around about you and finds out you've got a whole score of fellas vying for your hand.

Yandere! Mobster who let's it be known that he's interested in you and watches with satisfaction as all your potential suitors drop away.

Except for one. He just spits and says you're a grown woman and can choose your own man.

Yandere! Mobster and his buddies pick the guy up after a late shift. Tie his hands behind his back and gag him before they toss him in the trunk.

Yandere! Mobster who beats the shit out of him. Who breaks his nose with a knuckle duster and his ribs with a crowbar. Who grabs his hair with bloody fingers and hisses that you're off limits.

Yandere! Mobster whose buddies lounge against the warehouse wall and smoke, never bothering to question what a simple dock worker did to deserve such a brutal beating.

Yandere! Mobster who sniffs your hair when you hug him. He's like a dog - always making sure other men haven't left their scent on you.

Yandere! Mobster who let's his hands wander when he takes you out dancing. Who kisses you goodnight and let's his lips brush your neck before he pulls away.

Yandere! Mobster who goes home and jerks off to you, his teeth bared and head bent forward. Who snarls at you to take it, take it like a good girl.

Yandere! Mobster who tells his don about you - how pretty you are, how clever, how discreet. The man leans back in his chair and pulls on his cigar.

She'll never make a liar of you. You should marry her just for that.

Yandere! Mobster who shows up at your door a week later, an engagement ring burning a hole in his pocket.

Be my girl. And I promise I'll take care of you.

You think about the night he came to you covered in blood and not speaking a word. You think about your friend from the docks and the way he dissappeared. You think about the way people look away when you're with him in public.

You say yes, as though you have a choice.

[cinnxmxngxrl]

“Camden’s sin”

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Shelby!Reader

Check Alfie’s Masterlist here to see the next parts

Summary: You were a Shelby working in your family’s business. You tried to convince yourself that it was just that, business. But Alfie Solomons wasn’t just business, not when he had you bent over his desk.

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: intense smut, minors DNI, unprotected piv, filthy language, oral(f!receiving), rough sex, creampie, reader is Tommy Shelby’s sister.

A/N: Again, english is not my first language, so sorry if any mistakes throw you off. I’m planing to do several more parts of this (please tell me if you have any request, this is my second time writing).

Your brother trusted you. For some reason, you were good with numbers—that was a fact. And you were good with people, probably because they all saw you as the innocent and youngest Shelby sister, but you were smarter than any man in the room. They underestimated you. That’s why you got sent to Camden Town almost every week. That, and because Alfie Solomons was utterly obsessed with you. Tommy found it convenient, really, since it always gave you the upper hand in every deal. Alfie simply couldn’t resist you.

You never thought anything of it. Yes, Alfie flirted with you—crude and blunt, filthy sometimes—but you were sure of his intentions. Just a game to piss your brother off. So you dismissed his banter.

The morning air was thick in Camden. It always was. You walked through the bakery like you owned the place, weaving through the towering barrels and busy working men until you reached his office. You didn’t even get a chance to knock. His voice came through the door, rough and immediate.

“Get in.”

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air reeked of rum and cigars. He was there, of course—seated at his desk, leaning back in the chair. Sleeves rolled up, revealing strong, tattooed forearms. His beard was thick and wild as ever.

“Well, bloody hell. The Shelbys sent me an angel today, eh?”

“You knew it was me coming, Alfie.”

“That I did. Every week, like a sharp clock, you are,” he grinned. “Lookin’ like fuckin’ sin, you do.”

You sighed. You knew all his lines by now. He’d used them a thousand times already.

“Let’s talk business, yeah?”

“What? No hello? No how’ve you been, Alfie? No I’ve missed seeing your face?”

He twitched his jaw when you stayed silent, completely ignoring his advances once again.

You tried your best to talk numbers, to finalize the new distribution routes. But it was almost impossible with the way his eyes were trailing over your body—lazy, deliberate, like he was undressing you with every glance.

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” You were pissed now.

“Well, forgive me, yeah? It’s fuckin’ hard to focus when you’re lookin’ like that.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, smirking. “You do it on purpose, you do. That dress, that mouth painted red like bloody temptation itself.”

“This isn’t a bloody game, Alfie.” You warned him, trying to stay cool and composed—even while he was practically eye-fucking you across the desk.

“Course it’s not a fuckin’ game,” he said, voice low. “I want you. And yeah, yeah, before you say it again—I know you’re Tommy’s sister. I don’t give a fuck whose sister you are, right?”

“You’re crossing the line. Stop it.” You were trying hard not to flinch, not to blush. Trying to seem unimpressed.

“Oh, am I crossing the line?” His eyes dropped to your legs. “I’ll stop it when you stop sittin’ there with those… those fuckin’ legs crossed tighter than a nun. Pressing your thighs together since the moment you got here. Probably the same way you press them every night thinkin’ of my mouth.”

He smirked, proud of the reaction he managed to pull from you.

He had you now. He bloody well did. And it pissed you off that he was so damn observant, that he noticed everything.

“Fuck you.”

“God, please.”

Your cheeks burned—with anger, yes, but with something deeper than that. Something dangerous. Something like desire.

“You’ve mistaken my tolerance for interest, Alfie. If you want to keep doing business with the Shelbys, then you fucking behave,” you hissed.

“Business?” he scoffed. “Treacle, the only thing I’m gettin’ from business with the Shelbys is fuckin’ blue balls. Havin’ to stare at you every fuckin’ week without being able to touch you the way I want.”

“Are you done? Done saying all the… filth that’s inside your mind? You’re a pig.”

“Done? I’m nowhere near done.” He leaned back, eyes gleaming. “Next time you come here, I’ll tell you what I want to do to you—page by page—like a fuckin’ scripture.”

You stood up, turned away without another word, and walked straight out of his office. Just like that. Gone. Leaving Alfie cursing under his breath.

The truth is, you should’ve told Tommy. Should’ve told him that Alfie crossed a line, so he’d send someone else. But you didn’t.

No matter how hard you tried to stay away from that man, there was an invisible string pulling you toward him.

You wore black that day. High-necked. Buttoned all the way up. But when you walked into Alfie’s office, the first thing you saw was him—waiting for you with a little old leather notebook in his hands.

He didn’t say hello. Didn’t greet you like most days. He just opened the notebook and looked at you.

“I made you a promise, right? And I’m a man of my word.” He tapped the cover with a grin. “Fuckin’ poetry I wrote for you.”

“You think I came here to hear your filth?” you said, sitting across from him, arms and legs crossed.

He ignored you completely. Cleared his throat. Adjusted his glasses. And began to read from the first page.

“You come here all proper, all buttoned up, pretendin’ to be holy. But I’d get you against my desk anyway, with my hand under your tight little skirt, as you moan my name like a fuckin’ prayer.”

He turned the page.

“You’d tell me to fuck off—’cause you love to pretend you don’t want me. But when I feel your thighs squeeze around my fingers, I know it’s all lies.”

Another page turned.

“I’d put my mouth between your legs, eat you until you can’t remember your fuckin’ name. Make you scream so loud your brother in Small Heath would hear you.”

“And I’d fuck you from behind, right on this desk we’ve signed a hundred papers on. You’d beg me not to stop. In fact, you’d beg me to go harder, ’cause—”

“Stop.” You cut him off. Your voice soft, but sharp.

You felt the heat pooling low in your stomach. Felt your undergarments dampen. But you didn’t show it. You stood up, hands trembling, legs unsteady.

“You think you’re clever? Think I’ll melt because you wrote all your filth in a book like some fucked-up priest?”

He stood too, walking around the desk toward you with slow, measured steps. “Maybe. Tell me—is it workin’?”

“You should be locked up.” You should’ve slapped him. Should’ve run. But you didn’t. You stayed. You listened to every word.

“Maybe,” he whispered, closing in. “But I’d find a way out. Just to find you.”

He was towering over you now. So close you could smell him—cigars and rum and sin.

“I should take what I want right now,” he murmured, voice rough. “Should bend you over my desk and do every fuckin’ thing I wrote in that notebook. Everything you’ve been denyin’ me.”

Your knees buckled. Your breath hitched.

“But I won’t, treacle. And you wanna know why?” His voice dropped to a growl. “Because when I do—yeah?—you won’t be walkin’ straight for a fuckin’ week. And it’s gonna be your choice.”

“My choice?” you whispered, your voice barely there, feeling his eyes devour you.

“Yours. You’ll come back here tomorrow. Not for business. Not like a Shelby. You come back for me.”

Somehow, your legs carried you out of his office. Out of the distillery. Back to the car waiting for you outside.

The moment you stepped inside Alfie’s distillery the next day, you knew it—this would be the last time you ever walked out of here untouched.

You made your way into his office, and like always, he was already expecting you. Leaning back against his desk, arms folded, eyes on you like he’d been waiting all fucking day. He looked as irresistible as ever.

“You’re late,” he said.

You checked your watch. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you’re about twenty fucking meetings late for what I really want.” His voice was low, husky. “Lock the door.”

You obeyed without thinking. As you stepped closer, his thumb grazed your throat—rough, calloused fingers surprisingly gentle.

“You want to hear it again? Page by page? ’Cause I’ve written a thousand more.”

“No,” you breathed, “I want you to show me.”

He groaned—and that was it. Restraint fully vanished. He grabbed you and crushed his mouth against yours, desperate, hungry, all tongue and teeth as he yanked your head back and devoured you like a man starving for something only you could give, with the need to own you.

You moaned when he shoved you against the desk, one hand on your throat—holding, not squeezing—while the other dragged your dress up.

No knickers. He swore.

“Fucking hell… You woman… you’re trying to kill me, are you?”

Before you could reply, his hand was already between your thighs, feeling the heat, the wetness.

“Oh, you’re so ready for me, ain’t you? Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He growled—and then dropped to his knees, right there on his office floor. Because there was only one reason Alfie Solomons got on his knees, and that was to eat cunt.

“Alfie—” you began.

“Shut up. Let me read my scripture,” he rasped. Then his mouth was on you—no patience, no mercy.

His thick beard scratched the inside of your thighs, but all you could feel was the way his tongue worked you open. Lazy circles over your clit turned into relentless strokes as he devoured you like you were his first hot meal after the war.

He pulled back for a second, just to look at you.

“Tastes fucking divine.” He gave one long, filthy lick. “Like fucking salvation.”

“Oh God—God—” you whimpered.

“No, treacle, the Lord’s got nothing to do with it. This is all me. So say my fucking name.”

“Alfie… Oh, Alfie…” you moaned, hands buried in his hair, grinding shamelessly against his mouth. He latched on your cunt harder, tongue ruthless going through your slick folds, sucking your clit in the right way. fingers gripping your thighs to keep you from flying apart.

And then—you broke. You came in seconds. Hard. Loud. Messy. Your whole body shook, and you would’ve collapsed on the floor if it weren’t for his strong arms holding you up.

He stood, his beard glistening, soaked in your fluids. Eyes dark as the night, wild. He didn’t wait a second—his hands were already unbuckling his belt.

“You ready for page two?” he growled. “’Cause I’m still fuckin’ hard. And tired of waiting.”

You nodded, It was all you could do, you were speechless, breathless.

He grabbed your body forcefully, turned you around, and bent you over his desk, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades, pinning you down like he’d envisioned a thousand times.

He spit into his hand, stroked himself rough and fast, like the world was about to end. And then—

He slammed into you.

You screamed his name, gripping the desk so hard your knuckles went white. He was huge, and if that wasn’t enough, he was brutal with his unforgiving thrusts that had you seeing stars and the whole fucking galaxy.

He pounded into you so hard you didn’t know if he loved you or hated you, hands bruising your hips, balls slamming against your ass over and over.

“Fuck—fucking—” he choked out, and you realized that this was the first time you’ve ever seen Alfie Solomons struggle to find words. “You trying to kill me? Squeezing my cock like that with this tight little cunt.” He smacked your ass, hard.

All you could do was whimper, pathetic little whimpers that came out of your mouth as he continued to dive into you.

The room was full of it—all of it—the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of the desk under your body, your muffled cries, his snarling breath mixed with all the filthy words that came out of his mouth.

“Custom-fucking-made for my cock, you were.”

“You feel so good… so wet and hot and tight for me.”

“Look at you, listen to you—moaning like a fucking whore for me.”

He was feral for you. He had turned into a beast like never before. Because even if he had his fair share of women in the past, no woman had ever made him feel like this, not a single one of them had ever felt as good as you did right now, It was all he had ever dreamed of, and more.

And you—you—were taking it, it was all you could do, cause you were built for this. No one ever fucked you like a real man should, no, that was something only Alfie could.

That sharp sting built in your belly and then it snapped—and you came again, harder this time, clenching so tight around his cock he cursed in Yiddish. You didn’t know what he said, but the way he said it made your whole body throb.

“I’m gonna fill you up… so bad it’s gonna fucking drip out of that pretty pussy all over your thighs yeah? You want that?”

“Yes… please, Alfie… fill me up.”

He pulled your hair back, arched your back against his chest, and fucked into you harder. Once. Twice. The third thrust—he buried himself deeper and he came with a guttural growl, spilling himself inside you as he moaned your name into your shoulder.

He stayed there inside you, holding you close, his lips at your throat, whispering things that made you melt, and kissing your shoulder softly, as if trying to comfort after he was the one to wreck you

When he finally pulled out, you felt it—his cum, mixed with your juices, dripping down your thighs. He shoved it all back inside with two fingers, stuffing you full of him again.

“Tell me you’ll come back next week, yeah?” His voice was oddly soft now.

You barely managed a whisper. “Try not to go mad until you see me again.”

He smiled against your skin. “Now that, treacle… that’s a promise I can’t make.”

NEXT PART HERE

‪dividers by: @/saradika-graphics‬

[spoopdeedoop]

ok last one and now im done forever

[sporklebm]

I know it's not just me!

(individual panels under the cut!)

ok but actually what is tubbo doing. i mainly watch his clips/shorts and its THE RANDOMEST WEIRDEST SHIT EVER! SOB.

[hellonearthtoday]

canon is dead I rule the world. dsmp you are MINE

dsmpblrs ocs shared between the 5 (five) singular people that inhabit this fandom

I'm taking the chance to just talk about my personal dsmp au that is basically canon if you don't think about it

I don't think we as a community wrote enough about demon ctommy. he was always my favorite it just gives him this evil vibe that I think is sooo funny and I always see it in ctommy art but never in literally any fic. and that's fine but imp or whatever-he-is-Tommy will always be real in my heart. in my head he used to be a bird hybrid, but when he died for what was supposed to be the final time they took his fucking wings and gave him cunty demon horns and tail. Death made him emo. for the sake of this narrative his wings used to be white too. Pair this with religious ctommy and you get peak

ctubbo. I think about him a lot. I think personally he wears armor under his coat. You'd think it start to get hot under there, and it does. his solution is to just Never leave the Arctic.

At some point he started developing resting bitch face, because it used to just be resting (autistic face of neutrality) but now he kind of just looks tired all the time. Not like Tommy's rbf where he looks like he's kinda pissed and has a headache 24/7. but at least they're semi matching now. bff's!!! (?) I can't write too much about ctubbo because my cutbbo is like 20 billion contradictions stacked on itself. he's not as simple as my ctommy.

He doesn't wear the red bandana anymore but he can't tell you why and he's not insecure about the scar on his face but he's not proud of it either. I FORGOT TO DRAW CRANBOO AND HIS WEDDING RINGS IM AN ANTI WHAT THE HELLL okay ignoring that blunder, their wedding rings are meant to be on their horns 💔 you can't fucking see cranboos singular (1) horn because it's out of frame, they're too tall.

SPEAKONG OF CRANBOO!!!! snakes in his hair because Hahhaa hattte eye contact????? Medusa???? get it guys get it do you guys get jut

The snakes talk to him. Take that as you will. He's a chronic suit wearer and will literally not wear anything else unless it's under or over the suit. he would like to never try anything new ever he needs this constant in his life or everything will fall apart and the world will end. He knows how to kit up and wear armor but just as a joke he wears random bits of armor in places he literally needs it least. as a fashion statement. Tommy doesn't wear any armor usually bcz who gaf he's not doing that shit

in my perfect world the egg plot in dsmp actually got used better and becsme more than a background plot. it could've been everything. anyway my dsmp au is egg war las Nevadas craziness and I'm right goodnight

[softcillian]

﹙Ꮺ࣭۪﹚ | FOOKIN' BABY — thomas shelby

you knew something was wrong when tommy shelby refused a cigarette.

he just sat there at the kitchen table, sleeves rolled up, forearms tense, jaw ticking like a bomb mid-countdown. sunlight slanted through the curtains all soft and gold and holy, but your husband looked like war. looked like 1914 come back to haunt the breakfast dishes. looked like he was seconds from setting something on fire just to feel warmth.

you set the kettle down. hard.

“what?” you say, sharp like the edge of his razors, voice still sticky with sleep. “what is it now, thomas?”

he doesn’t answer. just stares straight ahead at absolutely fucking nothing, like the ghost of a thought has him by the throat. which, fine. you’re married to a man whose favorite pastime is brooding, right next to murder and tax evasion.

but then he says it. and it’s so goddamn unexpected, you forget how to breathe for a second.

“i want a baby.”

you blink.

“you—what.”

his blue eyes meet yours. stormclouds. cigarette smoke. something ancient and aching. “a child. ours. i want one.”

you laugh. because it’s easier than screaming.

“jesus christ, tommy. is this another one of your near-death existential spirals? do we need to call polly again?”

he doesn’t flinch. doesn’t blink. just says, deadly serious, “you’d be a good mother.”

and it hits you in the chest like a fucking freight train.

because here’s the thing about tommy shelby: when he loves, it’s not flowers and poetry. it’s knives. it’s promises soaked in blood. it’s protection so feral you almost choke on it. and when he looks at you like that—like the world is a house on fire and you’re the only thing worth saving—you believe him. against your better judgment. against every ounce of self-preservation.

you sit down. slow. because your knees aren’t working properly anymore.

“you’ve got three siblings with kids. and a fucking horse. why do you need this?” you ask, weak.

“because none of those are you. and none of them are mine.”

and there it is. raw and selfish and soaked in possession. tommy shelby in one fucking sentence.

you run a hand through your hair. “this is so unhinged. you can’t just—just decide you want a kid out of nowhere.”

he arches an eyebrow, infuriatingly calm. “i’ve wanted one since the wedding.”

you gape. “then why didn’t you say anything?”

“because the war never ended, love. just changed shape.”

you’re gonna cry. and you hate crying. especially in front of him, because he gets all tender and tragic and you end up in bed for three days trying to fuck the pain out of each other like that ever works.

you reach across the table. lace your fingers through his. and he lets you. because when you touch him like this, it’s the only time he doesn’t flinch.

“it’s not that i don’t want one,” you whisper. “it’s just … what if you get killed, tommy? what if i’m left raising a baby on my own, telling stories about a ghost who smelled like gunpowder and good whiskey?”

he squeezes your hand.

“then name him after me.”

you laugh through a choked sob. “you arrogant bastard.”

“takes one to love one.”

and then he’s pulling you into his lap like he’s starved for you. like he needs to feel your heartbeat just to keep his own steady. he kisses you like it’s a vow, like he’s swearing something to your bones. and you kiss him back because of course you do. because you love him in spite of everything. because of everything.

his mouth trails down your neck. “let me show you,” he murmurs against your skin. “how much i want this. how much i want you.”

you bite your lip, trying to stay rational, but the way he touches you should be illegal in at least seventeen countries. and when he says, “wanna see you round, carrying my baby. mine. all mine.” you’re done. you’re just done.

somewhere between the second orgasm and the wreckage of your dignity, you realize he’s serious. he holds you like he’s memorizing the shape of your future. palms flat against your belly like he’s trying to will life into it. and for the first time, you’re not scared. not really.

because if there’s anyone who can stare down the apocalypse and still plan for tomorrow—it’s thomas shelby.

and maybe, just maybe … you’ll give him one.

but not before you punch him in the arm and mutter, “next time, lead with flowers. not fucking baby fever.”

he smirks. “thought you liked me feral.”

“unfortunately, i do.”

and he kisses you again, this time soft. like the war has ended, if only for now.

[rcmclachlan]

I'd love to hear Dana and Nico discussing Tommy's latest bout of insanity with a probie if you're up for it

"... appears the LAFD helicopter is now leading the Army on a chase..."

The very moment KTLA reporter Chris Wolf says 'chase', the entire hangar erupts into pained groans and shouts of disbelief mixed with fury, plus one enthusiastic whoop that is collectively ignored in favor of the massive white board that DeJong and Goodell rolled out of Captain Ribeiro's office about ten seconds after Kinard escaped with the AW139.

The board is a veritable rainbow of imagination, mostly because it's covered in sticky notes of various colors, and standing in front of it is the most unforgiving authority figure most of the crew have seen since grade school.

"All right, assholes, shut up!" Donato shouts, then consults the board. The hangar falls silent, waiting. "Right now Myers is in the lead with 118 shenanigans, government fuckery, and a high-octane chase, but since Nguyen also bet on 118 shenanigans and a chase that would specifically involve MH-6Ms, Myers, you may have to split the pot."

Myers grudgingly nods. Nguyen discreetly pumps her fist.

Meanwhile, their two-week old probie Mona—who was given the nickname "Idol" after Kelley accidentally pronounced her name as 'Mony' and got the song stuck in everyone's head for days, despite not being old enough to know who Billy Idol even is—takes in the tableau with wide eyes. "Is this, uh, legal?"

"In the state of California? Nah." Nico shrugs, then bites into an unpeeled grapefruit like an apple. "But here? It's fine. You stick around long enough and you'll make some serious cash. Goodell made almost five grand with the cruise ship thing."

Mona stares. "And Cap allows this?"

"Allows it? Who do you think made the first bet?" Nico points to where their illustrious captain is perusing the board with annoyance clinging to his shoulders like a cloak, muttering under his breath.

"Anytime Kinard pulls something like this, we wheel out the board," Dana says, coming to stand on Mona's other side, surveying the pandemonium.

"D-Did you place a bet?"

Nico snorts. "Dane's not allowed to bet anymore. She's dead on the money every time."

"Not every time," Dana demures.

"Okay, but no one could've seen the elephant tusk thing coming." At Mona's wild-eyed look, Nico clarifies, "poacher plane over Channel Island. Kinard brought it down."

With the way everyone's clustered around Donato and the board, holding various sticky pads in the air and waving them around, it looks like the stock market is crashing and everyone's about to dump their shares.

"Oh, speaking of." Dana scrapes at something under her thumbnail. "Did you change the sign?"

Nico says through a mouthful of rind, "I think Donato did."

"The sign?" Mona echoes faintly.

With a nail sharper than any of the steak knives in the communal kitchen, Dana points to the professionally made sign hanging next to the weight room door.

__ DAYS SINCE KINARD LAST TAUNTED GOD.

The '32' that had been sitting pretty at the front of it for the last month has been flipped back to '0'.

"T-This happens often enough for a sign?" Mona looks a little dizzy, and Dana wants to tell her that if she can't cope with a co-worker stealing municipal property and pissing off the government from time to time, she's probably not cut out for Los Angeles. But Captain Ribeiro suggested on Dana's last evaluation to keep her often-correct opinions to herself, if only to keep morale high, so she says nothing.

Nico does for her. "Ever since Kinard started seeing Buckley? Yeah."

"Buckley?"

"Human dalmatian and resident heroic dumbass at the 118," Dana explains. "He and Kinard have an on-again-off-again thing going on that threatens the populace on a bi-monthly basis. If they ever do manage to figure out their shit, it'll take out half the city."

Mona squints at the TV, where the AW139 goes into a perfect hammerhead before slipping past the Figueroa at Wilshire with the grace of a shadow, leaving the MH-6M floundering in mid-air, and everyone clustered around the board starts shouting and waving their sticky notes again.

"And this is.... on again?"

"At this point, no one knows or cares. Kinard has always been certifiable; he'd been looking for an excuse to get worse." Dana glances at the TV. The AW139 banks up, executes a textbook barrel roll, and then disappears out of the range of the KTLA's camera.

"Holy BLEEP, did you see that?!" Chris Wolf cries.

"It's a shame I never really got to talk to him much," Mona says, a little forlorn. "I would've loved to learn from him."

Nico turns a confused look on her. "You still can? He's not dead."

"I mean, he's gonna be arrested and fired, right?"

At that, Dana presses the backs of her fingers to her mouth to hide a chuckle. "Oh, Idol, you're sweet. Kinard'll gently bully that out of you when he's back on Tuesday."

[killjoyous]

DSMP asl HCs

AU where Tommy is profoundly deaf and always getting yelled at for being loud, but he claps back with “IM DEAF, SUCK IT UPPP!!!!”

also clarification: Tommy in this au uses ASL but in-universe it’s just generally referred to as ‘sign’ even though I know realistically, it’d probably be BSL. I do not know BSL. 😭 so for my sake he’s using AS Tubbo learned sign language for him, but isn’t fluent yaya. Techno learned his from a book (for tactical reasons because communicating silently and effectively is really useful) but he gets a lot of it wrong. Phil has the same issue of using signed exact English/incorrect motions for signs, but they’re catching up. techno is probably a fucking polyglot so it’s not that big of a problem 😭😭 oh and Ranboo goes nonverbal when overstimulated!! And uses rudimentary sign language to communicate.

[solarswonderland]

HAVEN: MASTERLIST

steve harrington x byers!oc [ orignally posted on wattpad ]

synopsis: steve slowly fall's for his ex-girlfriend's best friend, who also happens to be her boyfriend's twin sister. (i actually don't know how to summarize this LMAO)

status: completed

c h a p t e r s :

main characters

season 1

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8

season 2

chapter 9 | chapter 10 | chapter 11 | chapter 12

chapter 13 | chapter 14 | chapter 15 | chapter 16

season 3

chapter 17 | chapter 18 | chapter 19 | chapter 20

chapter 21 | chapter 22 | chapter 23

season 4

chapter 24 | chapter 25 | chapter 26 | chapter 27 chapter 28 | chapter 29 | chapter 30

season 5

tba.

© solarswonderland

[tommytonebender]

getting annoyed trying to draw Maple's costume so I'm taking matters into my own hands and making my own references out of Barbie clothes lol here's a preview

Billy Quizboy for scale cause it's part of a larger OC/Canon AU

[cilleatandserve]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ɴᴏᴛ

Thomas Shelby x Arranged wife (reader)

Masterlist

Warnings: Arranged marriage, enemies to lovers (sorta), jealousy & fighting, sickness & poverty themes, Lustful p in v, spit as lube, fingering & oral sex (f receiving), kissing, praise

A/N: Tell me if part 2 is needed !! Not proofread and made at 2am sorry for mistakes & late post— exam week.

She always had high hopes for her marriage. Seeing it as an escape from the dull cycle she called life.

Hopes that were soon destroyed on a random Sunday, right after church. When everything she dreamed of started to unravel. “Love is a luxury we can't all afford, my dear. This is about security, about family. Mr. Shelby will provide that." Your dad reassures

The wedding was arranged, an event that felt more like a business transaction than a celebration of love.

“Papa! You can’t do this. It’s me.” She cried, tears streaming down quickly as she tries to catch her father’s eye.

But her efforts quickly fell flat at the sight of your mother hunched over a bowl on her bed, regurgitating the small breakfast you made her, a stark reminder of the chaos that surrounded them.

Thomas didn’t fight it— not because he didn’t care, but because from the moment he laid eyes on her, he wanted her. It was like a permanent craving, one that gnawed at him relentlessly, refusing to fade even after he had her.

He had first seen her at the shops, a fleeting moment that felt ethereal. The second time, he saw her for sale at the very same shop, practically. Her waves of hair were tousled by the wind, her wrist caught in her father’s grip as he dragged her along.

She, on the other hand, hated every part of it. The long, loveless ceremony dragged on, each passing moment a reminder of the heavy rock on her dainty fingers. Him. Especially him. The way he sweet-talked his way through all of her family ties, charming everyone around her. How his blue eyes seemed to find her in every crowd, piercing through her defenses. How his brown hair looked splayed over a pillow, haunting her thoughts at night.

Their wedding became the first and last place they had a conversation in the following months, and even that was short-lived, considering how half of Birmingham was there, watching and waiting. She spoke to him only when necessary, her words cold and sharp, as if he were nothing but a stranger—a harsh truth that echoed through the halls of their new life together. Yet, almost every woman in Birmingham would commit absurd crimes to be in her spot for just a day.

He answered gently. Always tried to bridge the gap between them. Always failed. She held grudges for his past transgressions, unable to see the protection she and her family gained through the act of marriage. Blinded by her own resentment and disappointment.

One night, she slipped through the door without saying a word. Like a ghost escaping the confines of a haunting, leaving behind a silence that screamed of unspoken words and shattered dreams. No goodbye, and all her worries on her bedside table in the shape of a ring. Meaningless and empty. Not the type she’d dream for, each shine of the rock reflecting a memory of shared love.

She went to the bar. Petty enough to drink at the one he owned.

Let hands touch her waist. Let strangers make her laugh. Pretended she was free. Like before.

When she came back, he was waiting. Sitting in the dark drinking per usual like a ghost she couldn’t shake off. His power seeping through every situation she finds herself in.

His face a dark shade of orange from the cigarette in his left hand, clearly left unattended from its abundance of burnt tobacco.

He didn’t ask where she’d been. Just, “Where’s your ring eh?”. She didn’t flinch, just calmly answered while taking off her heels and jewelry. Excessive.

“Didn’t want to wear it”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to lie”

He stood up, putting his glass, containing the clumped cigarette, down as gently as he could. “You don’t have to lie.” He said. “Just wear it. Let them know you’re not theirs.”

“I’m not yours either” She spits back. Finally making eye contact with him. For the first time in what felt like months.

Silence creeps up to the surface.

Then, softly, he says, “You are, even if you hate me for it.”

“Look y/n-“ he says before she storm up to their shared bedroom.

She wakes early to see him sprawled out, his face serene and calm. Not drowned by the stress of business or such. Before she knows it, she’s combing his hair out of his face.

“Meow.” Snaps her out of her daydreams, making her abruptly turn to see her cat. Her father let her take him. Thankfully. She pets the hair on his head and gets out of bed. Picking him up and standing infront of the drawn curtains, letting the sun warm part of her face. She had never seen a view from this high before.

A view others had been born with, she would have to get used to quickly.

After the strange encounter she had just recently, she decided to cut herself off. Barricading her relationship from proceeding. Her peace was maintained. Until she had to go to a dinner. She wasn’t specifically trained in the field of small talk. Giving how she grew up only knowing few friends and family.

She put on a dress Thomas had gotten her early in the relationship. With rouge and perfume, she stood with a glass of wine. Her arms intertwined with Thomas’ as she glides through, introducing herself to more than 30 people in the span of 8 minutes. And counting.

She’s pulled away by a stressed Ada Shelby. Rescuing her from the deep end before being drowned in relationship advice. She murmurs in response and she watches Thomas down more whiskeys than usual while talking to someone. Equipping that look he has when he’s concentrated.

They arrive home after a silent drive. Beginning their cycle of silence yet again once the door opens. Although it’s broken once he speaks up. “The hospital your mother’s in has been threatened. One of many.” His words make her tense up immediately, although he reassures as soon as he notices. “I’ve got my men surround-“ he says before being cut off, his hands still in gesture. “That’s not enough.” She mutters, her head in her hands as she almost lets her worries consume her.

“Just listen.” She says, beginning to take another step before him. Thomas is sat down on the couch here in our living room, having his eyes all focused on her. She, who stands infront of him, holds each of her hands on top of her hips, trying to form the rant in her head into words

“Please listen.”

His jaw tightens, his lips parting slightly as he tries too play off his smirk, his posture starting to straightening with need. “Thomas.” She starts. Her eyes studying his every move, how his eye brows raise and how his lips slightly form a smile.

A tension forms in the air, making it harder for her to keep up with her current attitude.

He leans backwards, his hips being pushed upwards slightly and his legs spreading as he lights a cigarette after rubbing it against his lips, his eyes staying on her.

She swallows. Hard. Slowly.

Throughout this whole breathtaking act he just performed, has the soft desperate gaze of his never left her.

“Are you done?” His voice low, almost teasing.

And she’s gone silent. Completely silent.

He leans forwards again, and now she feels his palms land on the back of her thighs. While his fingertips trace her skin, he lays her forehead against her stomach.

“I hear you.” He murmurs. “And I’m working on it.”

His arms snake around my thighs. I tilt his head up upward, just to meet his eyes again.

“Trust me baby.” he whispers before ducking his head down and planting kisses onto the soft hands he holds.

She combs his hair from above before he stands up. Staring at her like no one had ever before. He pushes in softly, taking control and planting soft kisses onto her lips before pulling away. Ignoring her urge to continue. “Can we undress?” She asks, breathless and needy. Asking just incase he didn’t get the hint.

“I want to do this when we’re both sober.” He says, smirking against her cheek as he pecks her again.

She woke with an extra pep in her step today. Considering the night before’s events. That was her first kiss in a long time. So it’s fair.

She notices the absence of the figure usually beside her in bed. She then wanders to the kitchen, greeting him as he sits at the table reading newspaper. Although nothings different. Nothing but her feelings. Did he forget? Was he that drunk? Was he embarrassed?

“Any updates on the hospital?” She says holding a cup of tea and sitting beside him. The scent of chamomile soothing her from the failure of small talk. He mumbles a response that doesn’t pass your mind. So he remembers last night. “Do you not want to talk about last night?” She surprises him with her bluntness, a recurring theme throughout her language.

“Err. I didn’t think it was a topic to be spoken over breakfast.” He says as he folds the newspaper and puts it down.

She gets up, about to leave frustratedly. But he does too, approaching her briskly and holding her chin, quickly yet gently. He looks her up and down before kissing her hungrily, guiding her up the stairs and to the bedroom she just previously woke up in.

Too desperate and lust driven to unclothe each other, he unzips his pants. He slowly folds her dress upwards and moves her panties to the side, rubbing it slowly and spreading it with two fingers. He spits in his hand and rubs it over his cock before sliding it inside. His tip first, then his whole length. She shudders at the feeling. “Fuck. Good girl. You’re doing so good” He mutters, just loud enough for her to hear. After a few seconds, he lifts her leg up to his hip and starts thrusting his hips, eliciting soft sweet moans out of her mouth. “So tight.” He recalls before he drags his hand to her clit and starts rubbing as he grabs her mouth with his lips.

Their hands intertwine as she start to reach your high, orgasming under his fingers. He burrows his head into the crook of her neck as it spasms upwards and downwards. He follows not long after, pulling out and letting his seed pour over her now dirty slip. He caresses her cheek and bends down to kiss her neck, whispering in between. “Alright. I’ve had my fun. It’s your turn.”

He smirks against her collarbone before getting on his knees, holding onto her hips and using them to bring her closer. He looks up at her one last time before drawing his attention to her unclothed heat. He grabs her knees and throws them over his shoulder, giving her no time to adjust before diving in like a starving man. His tongue lapped at her folds, his finger finding his way to rub while his tongue shoved into her hole, waving around. “Tommy.” She shook her ankles violently, hitting his back as she grabbed his hair, going from soft caresses to harsh grabs.

“You taste so fuck’n good.” He says as he catches his breath before diving back in. It takes one last lick before her back arches and she shivers, whispering his name like a prayer.

He gets up, watching the final moments of her unraveling before him. “All mine. Don’t forget that eh?” He says, maintaining an eye contact that no longer made her uncomfortable.

[mavxion]

c!clingyduo prevails

[cinnxmxngxrl]

“Domesticity”

Alfie Solomons x Shelby!Reader

Part six of Camden’s sin but can be read as a stand alone

Check Alfie’s Masterlist here to read the previous parts

Summary: You and Alfie are officially together now, and living with him meant two things: discovering his softer, more domestic side… and getting bent over every surface in the house.

WC: 7.3k

Warnings: intense smut, minors DNI, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f&m!receiving), creampie, face riding, alfie is sweet in his own way, reader is Tommy Shelby’s sister

After the night Tommy found out about you and Alfie, you stopped hiding—there was no need to anymore. It was official now: you, a Shelby, were Alfie’s girl.

It was raining the first time Alfie took you out in public. He looked at you like you’d been carved out of something holy. Your dress was silk, low-backed and clinging, in a shade of blood-wine red that made his knuckles twitch the whole drive there. Your lips matched. Your hair was pinned, a few defiant strands curling loose at your neck

“You planning on staring all night?” you teased.

“No, no,” he replied, voice thick. “Plannin’ on makin’ everyone else stare, yeah? And then I’ll bloody kill them for it.”

The club was crawling with familiar faces — gangsters, smugglers, business sharks in tailored wool, girls with flapper bobs and diamonds sharp enough to cut.

And Alfie, ever the king of contradictions, didn’t just walk you in. He announced you. Arm wrapped tight around your waist, he muttered through clenched teeth to anyone who dared look too long, “Yeah, that’s right, mate. That’s mine. She’s mine.”

He introduced you like royalty. “This is her. This is my girl. No, no— don’t just look. Take it in.” Like your presence beside him made him ten feet taller. Like you gave him license to glow.

All the men around would look at him and politely say ‘Congratulations, Alfie. She’s beautiful.’”

Alfie barely restrained himself and bark after they walked off “Course she fuckin’ is,” he muttered. “What, he think I was gonna shack up with a goat?”

You snorted.

“You really love showing me off, don’t you?”

He turned toward you then. Fully. His face softened — not weak, never — but something real shone through all that bravado.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, love. I fuckin’ do.”

You tilted your head. “Why?”

He answered instantly.

“Cause you’re the best fuckin’ thing that’s ever looked in my direction. Let alone chosen me. Let alone let me put my hands on you. Let alone let me love you, right? So yeah. I want every bastard in this city to see it. To see you. And to know I get to go home with you.”

Within fifteen minutes, every glass in the club was full. Champagne, whiskey, gin, and whatever else the barkeep could pour fast enough. Alfie stood on a bench, arm around your waist, pulling you up with him so you were taller than the crowd.

He lifted his glass and shouted:

“All right, you cunts! Shut your traps, right? I got somethin’ to say.”

The room hushed.

You tried to step down, already mortified. He didn’t let you.

“This woman — this woman here — she’s my girl. You believe that? Mine! Look at her. Now look at me. What the fuck is that? That’s a miracle, that is!”

Laughter. Cheers. Whistles.

He grinned like a lunatic, beaming, sweaty, overwhelmed with his own joy.

“So you’re all gonna raise your fuckin’ drinks, yeah, and you’re gonna toast to her. Not to me — fuck me. To her. The most beautiful, most fuckin’ clever, sharp-tongued, impossible, perfect woman this city’s ever been cursed with.”

He looked at you, softer now, voice dipping low, but still for everyone to hear:

“And I get to have her. Me.”

“So — drink to her, you lot! Drink to the Queen of Camden!”

The room roared. Glasses clinked. Everyone drank.

You stared up at him, dizzy and flushed, and whispered against his shoulder, “You’re mad.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your temple. “Mad about you, love.”

For the last couple of weeks, you’ve slept in Alfie’s bed every single night. His house had become yours too.

It was quiet. He didn’t like having people around; you were the only exception. Alfie’s house was bigger than people would expected. A house meant to impose, to display wealth. But it wasn’t posh; it was lived in. Stone, wood, and brass. A little neglected even—but it was his. And now, for whatever godforsaken reason, it was yours too.

There were papers strewn across every surface, the scent of tobacco clinging to the air like a second skin. Brass fixtures dulled by time, floors that creaked under your bare feet in the morning. It was chaos and quiet and the pulse of something ancient—like the house itself had been waiting for someone like you.

You haven’t heard about your family ever since, and honestly you preferred it that way. You still couldn’t shake off Tommy’s last words “Tell Alfie to watch his back.”

They echoed sometimes—when the house went too quiet, and you’d hear it again, that cold finality in your brother’s voice. The weight of it. You knew Tommy, knew he wasn’t one to rush things, he would wait for the right moment to make his move.

But you were too occupied with your new life next to Alfie. If Tommy wanted war then he’d have one. You’d already chosen your side.

Three days ago, one rainy afternoon, you were curled on the couch, reading a book. The house was quiet—Alfie had already left, said he had some business to take care of back at the distillery.

Then a loud knock startled you. Sharp. Heavy. No rhythm. Not Alfie.

You tightened the knot of your robe, heart already ticking faster, and made your way to the door.

Polly stood on the other side. Her eyes sharp, her expression unreadable. You blinked once before pulling her into a hug without thinking. She smelled like cigarette smoke and perfume. Familiar. Home.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, giving you a once-over. “Look at you, like bloody Mrs. Solomons.”

You pulled back, eyes wide. “How did you—did Tommy tell you?”

“Oh please, don’t be daft,” she scoffed, brushing past you. “I knew the moment you came home stinking of rum and cock. Your brothers were just too thick to put two and two together.”

You closed the door and gestured toward the lounge. Polly hesitated for a moment, gaze sweeping over the foyer like she was stepping onto enemy territory. Then, finally, she crossed the threshold. Her heels echoed on the wooden floor. Her shoulders tense. Like the walls themselves might whisper back to Tommy.

“If you knew… why didn’t you say anything?” you asked, following her.

“Because I thought it was just a fuckin’ phase. A week. Maybe two,” she said coolly. “But now you’re here. In his house. Walking around in his bloody robe like you’ve been here forever.”

“Are you angry with me?” you asked, voice quieter than you meant it to be.

“Angry? No. I’m past angry. Bit disappointed, maybe. Out of every man in England, him? Alfie Solomons? I raised you better than that.”

“I didn’t plan for it to happen…” you murmured. “I really tried to stop it. For a long time.”

She exhaled, her tone softening. “Does he treat you well?”

“Like a queen,” you said instantly, without hesitation, and a smile flickered across your face before you could stop it.

Polly narrowed her eyes at you. “And in bed?”

Your smile turned into a smirk. “He’s amazing. God, he’s like—”

“Alright, enough.” She waved you off, face contorting. “I don’t need details about Solomons’ cock, thank you very much.”

You laughed lightly, but it didn’t last. Your smile faded. “Is Tommy too angry? Has he told the others? Arthur?”

“Love,” she said carefully, “Arthur? If he knew, he’d have knocked the fuckin’ door off the hinges by now. No. Tommy’s keepin’ it quiet. For now.”

You nodded and Polly continued: “He doesn’t like the way Alfie’s parading you around like you’re his.”

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t flinch.

“I am his.”

Polly’s lips twitched, not quite a smile, more like a flicker of something between pity and grudging respect.

“It’s all about power, love. Tommy thinks it makes him look like an idiot—that Alfie’s flaunting you around like you’re already married,” she continued. “It makes the Shelbys look like we’ve lost our edge.”

Your brow furrowed. “How does that even make sense?”

She rolled her eyes, taking a drag from her cigarette. “Because now the word out there is Alfie got you. That he took what the family couldn’t keep. You know men and their bloody pissing contests, always trying to measure who’s cock swings lower.”

“Polly…” you stepped closer, eyes pleading. “You need to help me. Talk to him. Make him come to his senses before he does something stupid.”

She looked at you for a long moment. That unreadable expression back in her eyes.

“You put too much trust in me. You know what he’s like—He doesn’t listen to reason, he listens to himself. Always has. You should be the one talking to him.”

“I tried,” you said, voice catching. “I love him, he’s my family. But Alfie… Alfie’s the man I want a future with. And I’m not giving up that future. Not even for Tommy.”

Polly didn’t argue. She just looked at you with something between resignation and reluctant understanding.

“Look, I need to go,” she said finally, straightening her coat. “I’ll see what I can do. But don’t hold your breath.”

You pulled her into another hug, briefer this time. Tighter. She squeezed you back, kissed your cheek, and then she was gone.

Living with Alfie was strange sometimes. You were so used to seeing him in two moods: either completely focused on business and the violence that surrounded it, or totally unhinged and desperate for you.

But now you were seeing a different part of him—sleeping at night and snoring like a bear, sprawling, muttering filth in his sleep. But if you moved too far away in the bed, even for a second, his arm would shoot out, dragging you back to him. Sometimes he’d wake halfway through, groggy and possessive, tugging you tight against him with a rough sound in his throat—like even in sleep, his body knew exactly where you belonged.

Trying to make a decent breakfast for you, shirtless, glasses crooked on his nose, squinting at a recipe book while trying to make tea and toast without burning either. He looked ridiculous, domestic in the most terrifying way—scars on display, grumbling at a jam jar like it was a personal enemy, muttering your name in every complaint, like you were both the problem and the solution.

He let you see him. Not just the part that barked orders and threatened the living daylights out of other men. But the part that sang badly under his breath while chopping carrots. The part that forgot where he put his spectacles. The part that grumbled when his joints ached and let you press warm cloths to his knees while pretending not to enjoy the care. The part that read the same newspaper three times because he kept getting distracted thinking about something you said the night before.

Living with him also meant seeing a softer side of him, a side that was all about the little things. Like him reaching over you in the morning to shut the window because the air might be too cold. Like his giant hand resting absentmindedly on your thigh while you ate breakfast. Like him growling when you were doing the dishes, calling you a fucking queen and insisting you sit down.

“I ain’t lettin’ the woman I fuckin’ love scrub me bloody pans, am I?” he scoffed, brow raised like you’d insulted him. “Nah, treacle. I’ll get someone else to deal with that shite, yeah? You—” he waved a hand at you, eyes softer now—“you don’t touch the pans. You touch me.”

It was chaos too. It was breakfast sex and broken dishes and lectures on Jewish philosophy at three in the morning. It was threats to your enemies and kisses on your ankles. It was a man who would kill for you, die for you, and still complain if you left crumbs on the counter.

It was love, in its most fucked-up, beautiful form.

You saw that one night, when he came up behind you while you were combing out your hair in the bathroom mirror. His arms circled your waist, lips brushing the curve of your neck.

“Stayin’ here’s done somethin’ to me fuckin’ head, right?” he muttered, brow furrowed like the thought offended him. “I used to be alright on me own. Fuckin’ liked it, actually. Thought all this… intimate bollocks, yeah? Waste of bloody time.”

You glanced at him in the mirror. “And now?”

“Now I think if I come home and you ain’t here, I’ll burn the whole bloody city down.”

“You’re getting soft,” you teased.

He looked up, eyes sharp, lips twitching with something feral. “Now listen, right—I ain’t gone soft, yeah? Let’s get that straight. What I am is possessive as fuck. You’re mine. That don’t change just ‘cause I’m not railin’ you up against a fuckin’ wall this second.”

And there it was—that violence tucked beneath the tenderness, the threat that sounded like worship. The only kind of love a man like Alfie could give.

…

One evening a few days ago he was feeding you bites from his spoon. In between, he had told you about the man he’d threatened that morning, about the dog that wandered in from the street, about the girl who sold flowers and winked at him, and how he didn’t like that one bit. No, he fuckin’ did not.

“So I bought all her fuckin’ stock,” he said, smirking.

“Why?”

“Yeah, so she’d fuck off, right? Before I did somethin’… inadvisable. You don’t get to smile at Alfie fuckin’ Solomons like that when he’s already spoken for, do ya?”

You blinked. “You bought her entire cart of roses just so she’d go away?”

He shrugged. “They’re on your pillow.”

You laughed so hard you almost choked.

He liked that. He told you so—told you he’d kill a man for your laugh, that it was the sound of God forgiving him for every sin.

But his filth didn’t stop either. If anything, it got worse now that he had access to you the entire time.

Like when in the morning, after you wake up his first words aren’t good morning or anything sweet. It’s him telling you the wet dreams he had of you during the night.

“I had a dream you were wearing nothin’ but pearls, lookin’ like a fuckin’ goddess. I nearly came in my sleep.”

You chuckled as his hand made its way in between your thighs “Alfie…”

“You’re in my bed now, darlin’. That means I get to touch what’s mine whenever the mood takes me. And this mornin’, it’s taken me fuckin’ hard, yeah.”

“You know what this is, right?” he growled, hand dragging slow up your thigh like he owned the whole bloody map. “This—this is mine now. You live here, yeah? My bed, my food, my fuckin’ shirt. You even breathe in my space like it’s your birthright. So all o’ this—” his hand slid between your legs—“belongs to me now, don’t it?”

…

Or another day, when you were sitting at the little table by the window, reading one of his ledgers. You’d taken over part of his accounting, mostly to keep yourself occupied—and because you liked the way he looked at you when you made sense of his messy, scattered books like it was the easiest thing in the world.

You were wearing nothing but a slip. Thin. Ivory. Your legs curled up on the chair. And he just stood there. Staring. His hand sliding up your ankle, over your calf, to your thigh.

“Can’t concentrate with you dressed like that,” he said.

He pushed the ledger aside, sat on the chair, and pulled you forward until you were straddling his lap. And just like that—without warning—he was inside you.

“Yeah,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips. “That’s what I fuckin’ needed.”

You moved like that for a while—slow, grinding, the kind of lazy morning fuck that felt endless and indulgent. The kind where your fingers laced behind his neck, his eyes half-lidded, lips brushing your collarbone between praises and curses. Every inch of him pressing deep inside you with reverence and need.

…

You also remember that morning you were in the kitchen, making breakfast for him, before he had insisted on hiring a cook so you didn’t have to get your hands dirty. He didn’t want you lifting a finger.

He was close. Close enough that you could feel the heat of him, naked behind you, breathing slow and heavy.

“I been starin’ at your arse for ten bloody minutes, love.” His voice was thick, indulgent, edged with amusement. “That robe’s a suggestion, nothin’ more. Might as well’ve wandered down here wrapped in fuckin’ hope and sin.”

“Alfie—”

“Shh,” he muttered.

His hand slid around your waist. Down.

“Let me finger you,” he said flatly, like he was asking for the butter dish. “It’s the domestic routine now, innit? You make the tea, I get me fingers in your cunt while the kettle has a bit of a scream. That’s life, that is. That’s livin’ together.”

“Apparently,” you whispered, already arching back into him.

Your robe slipped lower as he pinned you to the counter, his fingers pushing deep, curling up as your thighs trembled and your breath fogged the window.

He fingered you hard, one arm locked around your waist, the other fucking into you like he owned you—and he did. In that moment, you were his. Every breath, every whimper, every drop of slick that soaked his hand.

You came before the kettle stopped.

…

He would also leave letters around the house now. Filthy, deranged little notes in his scrawl—tucked in the breadbox, in your coat pocket, under the soap. One morning you opened the wardrobe and a crumpled sheet fell out:

“Treacle—

I fucked you in my dreams and woke up angry that it wasn’t real.

Wait for me in bed by the time I get back, or I’ll lose what’s left of my fuckin’ mind.

Yours,

Your mad bastard.”

You found him in the hallway later, grinning like a demon.

“Did you like it?” he asked, arms out, tone cheeky and dangerous all at once. “Bit o’ romance for the mornin’, yeah? Alfie-style. Comes with a side of cock and compliments.”

“You’re insane,” you said.

He kissed you. “Only for you.”

You laughed, but your thighs pressed together under your nightgown. He noticed. Of course he did.

…

Other random evening, you found him sitting at the kitchen table long after you’d gone upstairs—shirt undone, sleeves rolled up, ink smudged on his fingers. He was writing. Not business. Notes. Filthy notes for you.

He didn’t notice you until you leaned against the doorframe.

“What?” he barked, brows lifting. “Man can’t compose his own fuckin’ thoughts in peace now, yeah? Can’t write down a few words without bein’ spied on?”

“You’re writing me another filthy note, aren’t you?”

He narrowed his eyes. “It ain’t filthy. It’s romantic. Poetry for you.”

You walked in, pulled the paper toward you. He reached to stop you, but not fast enough.

“You’ve got the kind of cunt a man builds a fuckin’ synagogue around, yeah, and worships till his knees give out. If God exists, he’s a bloody pervert for makin’ you, ‘cause no holy thing should smell like that or sound like that when I’m inside you.”

“Told you it was romantic,” he said.

You would argue some days. Alfie wasn’t a man made for peace. It sat on him wrong—like an ill-fitting coat.

Sometimes it was over books; he still pretended not to understand numbers.

“Why the fuck would I care?” he asked once, feet up on the table, one hand lazily stroking your bare thigh. “You’re the one who’s good at the maths, darlin’. I’m just here to make sure no one dies slow unless I want ‘em to.”

“You’ll care when the distillery budget collapses.”

“Nah,” he muttered. “You’ll care for me. That’s what you fuckin’ do. That’s what wives do, yeah?”

“Not your wife, Alfie.”

“For now.”

…

Other times he’d grumble about your perfume being too sweet, then leave his shirt collar open for it to cling to. He’d snap about you using his straight razor to shave your legs, then leave it cleaned and waiting for you the next morning. He’d scoff every time you read in bed, then fall asleep with your book tucked against his chest.

He’d kiss you harder after fights. Grip your jaw like he needed your mouth to shut him up before he said something he’d regret. And he always softened. Always gave in. Eventually.

…

Some other days he was a nightmare. He’d pace the length of the house like a lion in a cage, cursing at the walls, talking to ghosts only he could hear.

He’d come home soaked in rain, blood on his cuffs, something wrong behind his eyes—and you’d know before he opened his mouth that it would be one of those nights.

Nights where he couldn’t sit still. Where he needed the gramophone blasting, needed every candle lit, needed something to throw across the room or slam down on the table just to feel something through the rage curling inside him like smoke in his lungs.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me, treacle, not now.”

He’d snap like that. Bare teeth. Wild-eyed. Then he’d apologize not long after. Usually with his mouth between your legs or a ring you hadn’t asked for tossed onto the bed.

…

You’d learned to read the signs. The twitch of his jaw. The shake in his hands when he couldn’t light his own cigarette. The way he gripped his cane just a little tighter when something was wrong.

Some nights he’d wake you, dragging you into the lounge because he couldn’t sleep. Because he needed to talk. Or pace. Or fuck. Or just be near you like the silence would eat him alive otherwise.

“I can’t do it without you, d’you understand me?” he rasped, breathing ragged. “I’m too far in, yeah? Too fucked up. You’re the only thing left that feels like—like it ain’t all rottin’ from the inside.”

You’d pull him into your lap like a wounded animal. Stroke his back, run your fingers through his beard. Let him rest in your shoulder, even if he cursed himself for being so weak while shaking.

…

One night, after a particularly nasty shouting match in the distillery with a supplier who’d shorted him, he came upstairs, shaking. His hands were covered in someone else’s blood.

And when he saw you waiting by the foot of the bed, silent, calm, he didn’t speak. Just walked to you, dropped to his knees, and pressed his forehead to your belly like a penitent man.

“Please,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, raw as gravel. “Please just—just tell me you fuckin’ love me.”

“I love you, Alfie,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his curls.

“And you won’t ever leave?”

You tilted his chin up. Looked him dead in the eyes.

“I won’t.”

This morning Alfie found you sitting on the kitchen counter, bare-legged, still in one of his shirts—buttons uneven, collar too wide. You looked like sin after sleep.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, look at you,” he growled, voice low and near reverent. “You wearin’ my fuckin’ shirt again, treacle? What—you tryin’ to kill me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s mine too now. Is there a problem with that?”

“Problem is,” he murmured, dark eyes dragging down your body, “I’m gonna rip it right off, yeah? Then fuck you right here—on the floor. Don’t even care if the bloody tiles are cold.”

You blinked slowly. “Maybe after breakfast.”

His grin widened—wolfish.

He leaned in close, hand firm on your waist, nose brushing your cheek. “I am your breakfast,” he muttered. “An’ that cunt? That’s my breakfast.”

“Alfie,” you warned.

“It is, though,” he insisted, brushing his lips against your cheek, trailing them toward your ear. “C’mon, sit on me face. Let me make you scream before your tea goes cold.”

Your stomach clenched. Heat surged. But you bit your lip. Smiled through it.

“Tea first,” you said. “Then maybe.”

“No. No time for fuckin’ tea,” he growled, voice rough with need. There was a fire in his eyes.

He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you to the living room. His grip was firm, not cruel—desperate. You stumbled after him, pulse already thundering in your ears, heat coiling low and tight in your belly.

He laid down on the couch, head resting on the arm of it. Sprawled like a king, or a beast.

“Oi—get over ‘ere,” he said, patting his mouth with two fingers. “C’mon now, ride me fuckin’ face, yeah?” His voice was low, rough as gravel, already thick with anticipation.

You climbed over him, moving up his body until your knees were bracketing his head, heat pulsing between your legs as you hovered over that greedy, unshaven mouth. His eyes locked on yours, wide and wild like he couldn’t believe his luck.

“God almighty, would you look at this,” Alfie groaned as you moved toward him. “I could eat this sweet little cunt ‘til I fuckin’ drop dead—face first, no regrets, right?”

You stayed there for a moment, cunt just inches above his mouth but without touching him yet.

“Nah, don’t get all shy on me now,” he rasped, eyes locked on yours, voice molten. “Sit down proper, treacle. Don’t hover—I want all that weight, yeah? Wanna feel you fuckin’ smother me. Want to forget how to fuckin’ breathe.”

You let yourself sink down. His tongue met you instantly—wet and hot and already groaning into you like a madman. Tongue flat and heavy as it licked a long, slow stripe through your folds, pausing to suck your clit into his mouth until your legs shook.

“That’s it,” he choked out with a wicked grin as you sank onto him. “Fuckin’ hell—sit on it like you mean it, yeah? Wanna choke on you, love. Ohh, what a way to fuckin’ go, suffocated by a cunt like this—fuckin’ poetic, innit?”

His beard scratched perfectly against the insides of your thighs, and his hands gripped your ass tight, pulling you down like he needed you there.

Alfie’s tongue moved everywhere—through your folds, sucking your clit in between his lips, spreading you open and devouring like he hadn’t eaten in days. He alternated between slow, wet drags of his tongue and tight, desperate sucks on your clit, making obscene noises as he slurped and groaned like a man starved.

You started grinding without thinking—hips rolling slow over his face, using his mouth, riding it.

“Yes—fuckin’ yes, just like that,” he moaned, voice muffled against your heat. “Go on, use me. Use me for it, darlin’. That’s what I’m here for, innit?”

“You’re so fucking good at this, Alfie. It’s disgusting how good you are…” You moaned louder now, hand buried in his curls as you rode his face.

You braced your hands on the couch, moaning, gasping, hair falling wild around your face as you rode him—back arched, thighs shaking. His tongue flicked fast, then slow, then hard pressure right where you needed it, like he knew every inch of you already.

“You hear that?” he growled between frantic licks, tongue relentless. “That right there, that sound—you fuckin’ whimperin’ on me tongue, yeah? That’s what heaven sounds like, love. That’s music to me ears, that is. You drippin’ all over me fuckin’ beard.”

“Fuck—your tongue, Alfie… don’t stop… don’t you dare stop…”

He couldn’t have if he tried. He was possessed, moaning filthy praises into your cunt, drinking you in like he wanted to die that way. His hands gripping your ass tight, helping you grind his face faster.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, barely pausing for breath, reverent in his filth. “This cunt—this fuckin’ cunt—just sittin’ on me face like it belongs there. And it does, don’t it? Fuckin’ made for me, yeah? Tailor-fit from the bloody angels.”

You were shaking now—hips stuttering, thighs clenching as your orgasm started building fast. He felt it too. Started sucking your clit harder, tongue flicking rough and desperate, one hand slapping your ass as you rode out the waves.

“Go on then,” he snarled, voice nearly feral. “Cum all over me fuckin’ face. Do it. Let me taste it—every fuckin’ drop while you fall apart on me mouth.”

You cried out, body locking up as you came—soaking his beard, grinding down on his face like you were trying to fuse into him.

He held you there. Didn’t stop. Just kept licking through it, swallowing every drop, making filth-soaked sounds like he was in ecstasy.

You lifted off, with the little strength you had left on your shaky legs. Your thighs trembled as you rose, every nerve still sparking.

You looked at him, mouth, nose, beard, even cheeks glistening, completely soaked with your slick. His eyes were half-lidded, dazed, drunk on the taste of you.

“Shit— you look a mess,” you tried to say. Your voice was hoarse, ragged at the edges, like it had been wrung out of you.

“No, no, treacle,” he said, voice thick, lips shiny with your slick. “I look like I’ve been baptized, yeah? Baptized by your fuckin’ cunt. Holy fuckin’ spirit in me beard, innit?”

He grinned—lazy, filthy, triumphant—as if he’d just tasted proof of God. His lips glistened when he licked them again, slow and indulgent, dragging his tongue across the corner of his mouth like he wanted to savor every drop, like he wanted to keep the memory of your taste alive on his tongue. He leaned back on his elbows, chest rising and falling with slow, worshipful rhythm—like he’d been through something holy.

Slowly Alfie stood up from the couch. His fingers moved to his belt—yanking it open, pulling his trousers down with rough impatience. His cock sprang free, already hard, already leaking. It slapped up against his belly with force, thick and veined, tip flushed an angry pink. The head glistened with pre-cum, a fat bead pooling at the slit before it trickled down the shaft.

“You see this?” he said, stroking himself, towering above you. “This cock’s fuckin’ mad for you. Hasn’t been the same since the first time I put it in that filthy sweet cunt of yours.”

His fist wrapped tight around the base, pumping once, twice, slow and mean, like he was daring you to look away. His eyes never left yours. “It’s yours, innit? Always fuckin’ has been.”

You looked up at him, breath catching at the sheer size of him, the thickness of it in his hand, veins throbbing, the tip flushed and glistening like it was weeping for you. Your thighs rubbed together instinctively.

You removed his hand from his shaft, falling down to your knees, eyes wide, lips already parted.

“Wanna return the favor.” You said it softly, but the hunger in your voice made him twitch in your hand.

“Yeah? Yeah, I fuckin’—I’ll let you then, won’t I? Look at that—look at you, down there, all eager like, yeah? Fuckin’ beautiful, innit? Like some bloody angel just—kneelin’ for the devil, yeah?” he muttered, breath shallow, voice thick with reverence and filth.

You kissed the base of him first, right where the coarse hair met thick, veined skin. Then your mouth trailed upward, lips dragging along the underside, tongue tracing every ridge. You heard the sharp inhale above you—his hips jerked, one hand gripping the armrest with white knuckles.

“Ohhh, f—fuck me, yeah, that’s it, darlin’—fuckin’ hellfire, that’s it right there.”

You wrapped your lips around the head and sucked, slow, steady, swirling your tongue as you took more of him in.

“Mouth like velvet, yeah? Fuckin’ velvet.” He laughed breathlessly, full of awe. “You were designed, right? Purpose-built—fuckin’ engineered by someone clever—just to do this to me.”

You moaned around him, taking more, eyes locked on his face—his mouth slack, eyes nearly rolling back, jaw clenched hard enough to crack.

“That’s it, take it—take all of it, love. That’s my girl, innit? Look at you. Fuckin’ takin’ it like the dirty little miracle you are.”

You bobbed your head, slow and steady, spit trailing down your chin, his cock glistening as you worked him with your mouth and hand in tandem. You hollowed your cheeks, sucked harder, and he swore, the filth falling from his mouth thick and unchecked.

“Oi, look at me,” he groaned, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. “Come on—look at me while you do that, yeah? ‘Cause I need to see it, don’t I? Need to watch you ruin yourself for me. Fuckin’ glorious, that is.”

Your eyes flicked up through your lashes, meeting his—dark, wild, rimmed red and soaked in awe. That look of a man being undone by pleasure. Of a man who still couldn’t quite believe this was his.

You moaned again, low and sweet around his cock, and the sound nearly broke him.

“Fuuuckin’ ’ell,” he hissed, hips stuttering. “You hear that? Hear yourself, yeah? Sound like you’re enjoyin’ it more than me—an’ I’m ‘ere tryin’ not to fuckin’ die.”

You flattened your tongue along the underside, dragging slow as you pulled back, then sank down again—deeper this time. His thighs trembled under your palms.

“Jesus Christ—fuckin’ hell, deeper, yeah, just like that, just like that. Gonna ruin that pretty little throat, ain’t I? Not that I’m complainin’—fuck no.”

You hummed around him, the vibration making him growl, his grip tightening in your hair—not pulling, just grounding himself.

Your jaw burned. Spit slicked his cock, dripping from the corners of your mouth. Your hand pumped at the base, wrist flicking in tandem with the bob of your head, a perfect rhythm of filth and focus.

You pulled off with a wet pop, tongue dragging across your lips. His cock twitched again, glistening, and you smiled, breathless, wicked.

“Couldn’t help myself.”

Alfie stared at you like you were God’s last good idea—and his dirtiest. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb stroking your chin, eyes filled with something between awe and animal hunger.

“Aight, hands and knees on the couch,” he said, voice gruff with need, “and keep that pretty arse up.”

Your knees hit the cushions before he even finished speaking, spine arching, skin prickling with anticipation. You felt him behind you—close enough to taste the heat coming off him—his breath like a growl at your back. You could hear him breathing—sharp, ragged, like it took effort not to take you in one brutal stroke. His hand came down to grip your arse, spreading you open like he was starving for the view.

“Most beautiful cunt I’ve ever seen,” he said, voice breaking. “Like a fuckin’ miracle between your legs. Look at that—look at that, yeah? Shinin’ for me. Beggin’ for me.”

He spit—hot and filthy—right between your cheeks, then smeared it in with his thumb, slow and deliberate, like he was blessing you with it. You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as his tip found your entrance, dragging through your slick folds with a possessive hunger.

He grunted, hips twitching as he lined himself up, the thick head of his cock nudging against your dripping hole like it was the first fuckin’ time all over again. “Christ almighty,” he murmured, breath shaky, “you’re so ready—like your body’s got its own memory of me, like it knows what’s comin’. Fuckin’ welcomes me home.”

And then—without warning—he pushed inside. The stretch stole your breath. It always did. The first inch felt like a burn, like your body had forgotten how to take him and was relearning every inch of him by force.

Your walls clenched tight, fighting the intrusion and welcoming it in the same breath. You keened into the cushion, hands clawing at the fabric as your body fought to accommodate him.

“Jesus, Mary, and fuckin’ Joseph—” he gasped, bottoming out. “Tightest—wettest—fuckin’ perfect, love, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

His hips stuttered, forehead falling to the base of your spine for a moment as he tried not to cum too fast. “Every time—every bloody time—it’s like this cunt’s fuckin’ new.”

“Move, please, Alfie” you begged, already clenching around him. Your voice broke on the plea, needy and half-wrecked. “Need you to ruin me—fuck me like you mean it—please, Alfie, please.”

He pushed all the way out, the head of his cock glistening as it hovered for a moment, and slammed back into you like he was punishing himself for wanting you so much. The force of it knocked the breath out of you, his cock battering your insides, pushing you open all over again like he hadn’t already ruined you.

Each thrust sent the couch creaking, your cries muffled by the cushion as you buried your face in it, trying to hold yourself together. You were drooling, gasping, broken open for him, cunt stretched wide and slick, gripping him like a vice.

His pace was brutal, relentless, like he was trying to chase every thought out of your head but his name. Skin smacking, wet and obscene, filled the room like music made just for the two of you.

He was grunting behind you now, half-growl, half-moan—feral and starved.

“Fucking hell, listen to you,” he rasped, “drippin’ on me cock like that, makin’ that sweet little noise every time I slam into you. Like your body begs for it. Like you need me to ruin you.”

You whimpered at that, cunt fluttering around him, your thighs slick with your own arousal and the proof of how good he made you feel.

You were begging for it, in every way your body could.

He looked down between you, at where you took him to the hilt like you were made for it, like no one else ever could.

“No one else gets this, yeah?” he growled, eyes wild. “No one else gets to see how good you look takin’ me. No one gets to fuck the most beautiful cunt in the whole bloody country—England’s treasure, right here on me cock.”

His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise. He was panting now, fucking you like a man unhinged. His thrusts grew rougher, almost desperate, like he was trying to carve himself into you, like he needed it to stay. Like if he fucked you hard enough, you’d never be able to take anyone else again. And he was right.

It was a rhythm now, like he was orchestrating sin itself—your slick folds catching every stroke, the lewd slap of your soaked cunt meeting his cock, your strangled moans swallowed by the room. You were soaked, ruined, dripping down your thighs, and Alfie groaned when he looked down to see how wrecked you were for him. His cock was glazed with you, every inch coated, your hole red and raw and greedy around him.

“Cunt’s the tightest, prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever had,” he panted. “Made just for me. You ruined me, woman. D’you hear me? You fuckin’ wrecked me.” He gasped again, kissing your jaw, your temple, your mouth in frantic bursts. “You’re it. I’ll never touch another. I’ll never want another. You hear me? You’re it for me. You fuckin’ are.”

Your vision blurred. Your mouth hung open, drooling into the cushion as your orgasm built—hot and inevitable—tightening in your gut like a coil about to snap. Your whole body was one trembling nerve. The rhythm of him inside you pushed you closer, closer, until you could barely form words.

One of his hands slid up your back, palm flattening between your shoulder blades, pressing you down further into the cushions, forcing your arch deeper so he could drive in even harder. The angle was brutal. Perfect. Devastating. You sobbed into the cushion, tears streaking your face from how good it was.

You could feel how far he reached, how full he made you. You were stretched wide, raw, desperate—and he still wanted more.

“Stay right fuckin’ there,” he growled, voice low and guttural. “Arch that back—yeah, like that. Let me see it, let me see this perfect fuckin’ cunt swallowin’ me whole.”

“Please—don’t stop. I need it, Alfie. I need you.” You moaned. “I don’t wanna feel anything but you.”

He leaned over you, chest to your back, teeth dragging along your shoulder as he muttered filth into your ear—things that made your toes curl and your pussy clench tighter around him.

“You’re fuckin’ mine, y’hear me? Makin’ it fit, makin’ it stay. Gonna stuff you full, treacle—gonna make it take.” His thrusts were erratic now, driven by hunger and love. It was obsession, pure and feral.

His breath came in ragged bursts, teeth clenched, a string of curses and praise pouring from his lips as he drove himself into you over and over again. His thrusts grew rougher, almost desperate, like he was trying to carve himself into you, like he needed it to stay.

“Come on, treacle,” he growled, voice rough and ragged. “Cum for me. That’s it, yeah—let this cock fuck it out of you.” His hips slammed forward with each word, punctuating them like a command, fucking the orgasm from you before you could resist.

His hand reached down, finding your clit with ruthless precision, his fingers circling it in hard, fast motions that bordered on brutal. “Give it to me,” he commanded, voice breaking again. “Let me feel you break for me. Let me feel what I do to you.”

And you did. With a scream that sounded more like a sob, you came around him—body seizing, back arching, muscles clenching so tight around him he nearly lost it too.

You gushed around him, soaking his cock, the couch, everything—your cunt milking him like it knew what came next.

The world shattered in white heat. You were nothing but sensation, a pulse around his cock, your cries muffled by the cushions as he fucked you through the aftershocks.

“Shit— fuck—,” he breathed, slamming once, twice more before groaning like something broke inside him. You felt the heat of him spill into you, thick and endless, filling you up until it dripped out of you.

His hips jerked uncontrollably as he emptied himself inside, growling through clenched teeth, fingers leaving fingerprints on your hips.

He sank to his knees behind you again, groaning like a man possessed, one hand spreading you open while the other slid between your thighs—slow, deliberate, hungry. His breath hitched as he watched it—his cum, thick and white, dripping down your inner thighs, shining on your skin like something sacred.

“Look at that,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “Fuckin’ painted you, didn’t I?” He swiped a thumb through it—slow and greedy, gathering the mess he’d made of you, eyes locked on the slick that glistened across your folds, mixing with your arousal like it belonged there. Like he belonged there.

“All of this,” he whispered, more to himself than to you, “every last drop—mine. You fuckin’ keep it, yeah? Carry me with you.”

Then his fingers were at your mouth, two of them slick and shining as he pressed them to your lips.

“Open,” he rasped. “Be good for me. Taste what we did.”

You obeyed, and he groaned, watching as you sucked them in, your tongue lapping up the mix of both of you—his cum, your slick, your ruin.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he breathed, his cock twitching again, half-hard already. “That’s it, love—take it. Don’t waste a fuckin’ drop.

“My cunt,” he whispered, eyes locked on the mess between your thighs. “Most beautiful fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen. More sacred than shul. Holier than bread and wine. I’d die for it. I’d fuckin’ die worshippin’ between your legs.”

He kissed your folds, your thighs, your trembling ass—like he was making offerings at an altar.

You let out an exhausted chuckle, the kind that trembled through your sore, spent body. “You’re insane.”

Alfie didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile. Just pressed a kiss to your spine, reverent and aching.

“Yeah, and you keep sayin’ it like it’s some bloody revelation, right? Ain’t exactly news, is it?” he muttered.

For a long moment, the room was quiet—just the sound of your breathing, the distant hum of London outside, and the soft kiss of skin on skin as he held you like he couldn’t bear to let go.

Alfie nuzzled into the curve of your neck, his voice softer now, almost shy. “D’you know how long I prayed for somethin’ like this? Somethin’ real. Somethin’ holy.” He kissed the back of your neck again. “And it turns out God was listenin’. Gave me a fuckin’ miracle with a filthy mouth and the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.”

You smiled, breath hitching with emotion. “You’re a poet when you’re cunt-drunk. A mad one.”

He huffed a low laugh, burying his face in your hair. “Nah. I’m just honest.”

He kissed the top of your head—rough lips gone tender, his big hands still cradling you like you were something precious, fragile, something that could shatter if he let go.

And then there was only the quiet.

The world beyond your house—beyond the warmth of him, the sweat drying on your skin, the evidence of your bodies still clinging to your thighs—ceased to exist.

You stayed there, tangled in each other’s limbs, your breath slowing in time with his, your heart tethered to his like a secret vow.

No words. Just the weight of it. The raw, unspoken promise curling between you like smoke—unchangeable, immovable, eternal.

You were his. And he was yours.

And not even God would dare touch that.

READ NEXT PART HERE

A/N: First of all, as some of you might know, this is the last part before the final chapter, which will be posted next Saturday (It’s gonna be a long one, prob long over 10k and will bring closure to the story)

I hope you enjoyed this part as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for your constant support!🩷🫶🏻

@rach5ive @namelesslosers @meetmeatyourworst @itisjustwhatitis

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

[cokoladasljesnjakom]

WHEN YOU’RE LOST IN THE DARKNESS

summary: the world went to hell. to say at least. a man lost his daguhter, the only person that kept him alive, and then? boom! all of the happines he had? thrown in the water. same happened for the two young girls. lost both of their parents to infection. what will happen when the man and two young girls meet the paths? will they kill eachother or somehow get closer? guess we'll find out.

joel miller x platonic! reader, ellie williams x older sister! reader

word count: 18k (im sorry)

warnings: outbreak!, zombies, heavy angst, major character deaths, PTSD, panic attacks,guns, knives, a lots of blood, gore, attempts of su!c!de, se*ual ab*se and attempts, tears, cann*ball, anxiety and lots of it.

a/n: first off i wanna say, that i made myself cry with this, let alone watching the gameplay AND the show itself. i had this on my mind lately and it irked me so much i had to get it off my chest. this is a series if you havent noticed! i put my soul and my heart into this. putting myself into their shoes and tbh? i felt it. anyway! enjoy reading.

masterlist next part

BOSTON, NEW YORK, AUGUST 2006.

Two years had passed since the outbreak, since the world as they knew it fell apart. That was the day everything changed. The day Anna made the decision that would alter the course of her life—she chose to keep her baby, Alex.

When Anna told others, their eyes turned cold with judgment. How could anyone even think of raising a child in such a world? Why would anyone bring a baby into the chaos that had engulfed the world? The whispers were relentless, but Anna never wavered.

Instead, those whispers only fueled her love for Alex. And when Alex was born, Anna’s heart swelled with a love she hadn’t known was possible, even in a world that had been reduced to dust. Despite the chaos, Alex was the one thing that kept Anna grounded, the one thing that made the world feel like it still had some light in it.

As Alex grew, she became aware of the sounds that filled their nights—loud, haunting screams that pierced the silence, the growls of infected just outside their door. And every day, she'd wake up to find her mother’s arms wrapped tightly around her, keeping her safe from the horrors outside.

But being a Firefly, especially with a child, was never easy for Anna. Even with her boyfriend Kyle by her side, she often felt like the only parent in the relationship. Kyle and Anna would argue almost every night before one of his missions. The fights weren’t always about big things, but the little things—the words, the harsh tones, the way they shouted at each other—it all cut deep. It hurt more than either of them could admit.

Before the outbreak, their relationship had been simple. Yeah, they had their disagreements, but they never felt like this. There was a tension now, a weight to every word they said, and it was taking its toll.

One evening, while Anna was putting Alex to bed, the shouting began again. Alex, clutching a small, worn-out toy in her tiny hands, heard the voices raised in anger. The sound of her parents’ fight made her chest tighten, and tears welled up in her wide eyes.

Anna’s heart broke as she saw Alex’s tears. She immediately knelt down in front of her, scooping her up into her arms, murmuring softly, “Shh, baby, it’s okay. Mommy’s here. You’re safe.”

Kyle froze, his eyes meeting Alex’s with a flash of guilt. He hadn’t realized how much his anger affected her, and the shock of seeing his little girl so scared hit him harder than he expected. Without another word, he grabbed his jacket, walked to the door, and slammed it behind him as he left the apartment. The loud bang of the door closing made Anna jump, and Alex flinched in her arms.

Anna looked down at her daughter, her heart aching as she saw Alex’s small hand reach up to gently touch her cheek. Despite the tears that still clung to Anna’s eyes, Alex smiled up at her, a small, innocent smile that broke Anna’s heart all over again.

“Mama no cry,” Alex whispered, her little hand brushing away Anna’s tears. “Make mama happy.”

Anna smiled through her tears, pressing a kiss to Alex’s forehead. “I’ll always be happy with you, baby,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she held her close, the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders but, for a moment, forgetting everything except the warmth of her daughter in her arms.

--

Three years later, not much had changed. Anna, Alex, and Kyle still lived together in the Boston QZ, in the same apartment Marlene—Anna’s childhood friend—had secured for them years ago. But this time, something was different.

Anna, now six months pregnant, waddled carefully toward the kitchen, one hand resting on her belly. Another baby. They didn’t know the gender, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that the baby was healthy.

“Mama! Dada!” Alex’s little feet pattered against the floor as she ran toward them, gripping a squeaky toy in her small hands. Her face lit up with excitement as she waved it around. “Got new toy for baby! Now baby and me play when she come!”

Her toothy grin was infectious, and Anna and Kyle couldn’t help but exchange a glance before laughing together.

“Wow! That is so cool, baby!” Anna said, crouching down with a hand on her belly. She steadied herself by holding onto Kyle, then reached out to gently run her fingers through Alex’s hair.

Kyle noticed Anna struggling, so without hesitation, he scooped Alex up into his arms, settling her into his lap before helping Anna sit down beside him.

Alex giggled, wrapping her little arms around Kyle’s neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. “Love Dada so much!” she announced before turning to her mom with a bright smile, waving her hands excitedly. “And love Mama too!”

Anna’s heart swelled. She leaned in, kissing Alex’s forehead as Kyle held them both close.

For a moment, the outside world didn’t matter.

TWO MONTHS LATER -

Night had fallen, and with it came the same routine. Another mission. Another night where Kyle had to leave with the Fireflies. And another night where Anna had to stay behind, waiting.

"Why do you have to go?" Anna whispered, her arms tightening around him as if holding on hard enough could make him stay.

Kyle sighed, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers. His hands cradled her face like she was the most fragile thing in the world. "You know I have to. It’s my turn to do the shit we volunteered for."

Tears welled in Anna’s eyes as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Gunpowder, grime, and leather—his scent. The one thing that made her feel safe. The one thing that told her he was still here.

"But you don’t have to," she murmured, her voice barely above a breath. "There are others now. You don’t have to go." She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, pleading. "I need you here. Alex needs you here. The baby needs you here. You can’t just go. What if something happens? What if the smugglers get you? What if—"

Kyle cut her off the only way he knew how. His lips crashed against hers, desperate and deep, like this was the last time he’d ever get to taste her. Because maybe it was.

He memorized the way she felt in his hands, the way her body fit against his. But even as he lost himself in her, his mind drifted—to Alex. To his little girl. God, he loved her so much it physically hurt. If he could rip his own heart out just to make sure she never had to cry, he would.

Tears streamed down his face as he pulled away, his hands still cupping Anna’s cheeks.

His voice was raw, shaky, but sure.

"I love you." His thumb brushed away a tear trailing down her skin. "I love you so much it makes my heart hurt. I love you so much it drives me crazy. To the point where I’d tear myself apart just to be near you."

A small, broken smile tugged at his lips. "I love you on your bad days. When you throw shit at me, when you scream at me over stupid things I did. I love you because you’re you. I love you because you’re the mother of our children. I love you."

looking at him with the purest pook she ever gave him, she broke down. sobbed so much it hurt her to breathe. her chest felt so heavy, it felt like her lungs were caving in on itself, and every breath she took, felt like it was last.

the fear of loosing him, coiled in her stomach making her feel sick everywhere. 'what if he hurts himself? what if he gets stuck alone and there is no one to save him?' the last thought on her mind, god, it hurt her to even think about that. she hated every second of it. she hated how they joined the fireflies in a hope that, maybe, one day, everything could go back to normal.

despite the pain in her chest and heart, a broken smile got on her face. kissing him softly, she said while caresssing his face. "you are such an asshole, you know that, right?" Kyle smiled teasingly, bringing her closer to him, while kissing the crown of her head, softly whispering. "well, you are dating this asshole. so tehnically, not my fault."

now looking at him seriously, Anna whispered out. "I love you. so much its making my head hurt just thinking about you. i love you when you have that deep frown on your face every time you think about something. i love you when youre trying to do something, youre doing it with a passion and not like youre forced to do that. i love you even though it makes my sides hurt and when I want to put myself next to your soul."

kissing him softly, she smiled, despite crying, again. "I love you when youre playing with Alex, making sure she gets all of the happines in this cruel world. i love you when im mad and youre still here, next to me, trying to make me forget about my problems. i love you for the way you are. i love you."

Kyle opened his mouth trying to say something, but then a little voice broke him out from his thoughts and he turned his head around to face the little voice. Anna saw his head turning away, so did hers. and when it did, they saw their little babygirl standing, with a blanket in her one hand and her toy in the other.

Alex’s voice now sad, and her eyes full of tears, seeing her parents crying, she cried too. "Mama? dada?" when she saw their heads turning and seeing the tears on her moms face, she runed towards her amd cried. "mama no cry. dada no cry."

kyle picked her up and wiping his tears, his voice now full of happines, because he was truly happy. his two best girls and the baby on the way, made him the richest man on the world. "hey lexie. how's my girl doing?" kyle asked trying to keep his voice calm and steady, but the crack in it made Anna cry silently. watching her little girl and the man that she loved made her heart full.

Alex’s hand wiped his tears and kissed him on the cheek, while doing the same to her mom. "me sad. mama and you crying. have bad dream." hearing her words, splitted their hearts apart, making them beat fast aganist their chests. when she had nightmares, both of them would curl up next to her and hold her like they wanted to protect her from everything in this world. Anna clearing her throat said, while wiping her tears away, ner hand now on Alex’s cheek. "oh, my little girl had a bad dream. you want kiss to make you feel better?"

Alex nod her head and both of them, Anna and Kyle, kissed Alex on her forehead, cheeks, nose, ears, neck and whenever they could do that. giggling, Alex said during the kissess she was reciving. "that tickles! no more kiss!"

both of them now grinning, Anna and Kyle kissed her once again, before Anna asked Alex, her voice quiet not to startle her. "what was the dream about, lexie?" Alex looked over her mom and her lips stared to tremble, before speaking. "monsters screaming. dada saved me and you kiss me on cheek. then i was happy."

locking eyes, Anna and Kyle looked at eachother and nod their heads, Kyle speakijg up first. "dada will always save you. i will be next to you whenever you want and i will always love you."

his hand slowly dragging over Anna’s now 8 months pregnant belly he noded down, pointing at her belly to Alex. "I will always protect you, your baby sister and your mama." kissing Alex slowly on forehead, his voice cracked before speaking up again. "Im always going to be right here." he pointed to her heart.

Anna cried softly, before speaking up after Kyle. "mama is going to be here, too. im always going to be here. to kiss your boo boo's away. to make you feel better. to make you feel the happiest in the world." caressing her cheek, Anna spoke again. "you, your baby sister that im sure it is now, and your dada, are the most important people in the world. i will always love you."

in their little moment, everything felt like it stopped. the time. the cruelness in this world. it felt like just four of them exsisted. Anna, Kyle, Alex and her little baby sister.

before Anna could say something more, a knock on the doors stopped her. the doors opening, it revealed Marlene. Kyle looked over his shoulder and his stomach dropped. he felt sick and so scared. leaving his family was the worst thing he could ever do. he didnt wanted to be on that mission. he wanted to be here, with his little family. god, if there was a chance to change the situation he was in now, he would do it without missing a beat.

Marlene watched the scene unfolding in front of her, and it made her heart feel heavy. watching her best friend and her boyfriend with a daguhter in his hands, with a upcoming baby, it made feel like she was the bad guy in here.

clearing her voice, Marlene called out, her hand gripping the door handle. "its time." and with that she closed the doors and walked out.

Anna, now looking at Kyle, her eyes full of tears, shaked her head no at Kyle, trying to make him stay. "no, please. dont go. Kyle dont go." and Kyle watched her in silence, his tears now sliding down his face. "Im sorry. Im so sorry."

Alex watched her parents cry and it made her cry too. "dada, dont go. stay." even being a kid, Alex was smarter than anybody ever could be. kissing Alex on the crown of her head, sniffing her scent in, trying to memorize the feeling of having her in his arms and then finally kissing Anna, like its the last kiss hes ever going to have feel. he leaned his forehead on hers, sobbing, and said his voice shaking, saying the words so quietly so that only she could hear them. "I love you. so much. i love you guys so much."

turning his head around to face Alex, he whispered out to her. "daddy loves you too. so much." and then finnaly he dropped Alex down on the ground, before he himself dropped on his knees, his forehead pressing aganist Anna’s belly, pressing a kiss on it, before softly whispering. "I love you kiddo. so much. be careful with mommy."

getting up from the ground, he once again pressed his lips on Anna’s, like he was saying goodbye. kissing Alex once again too, he whispered out to her. "I love you 3000." before picking his stuff from the floor and with one last glance he called out. "wait for me." and then he got out.

watching him leave, Anna felt something inside her shatter. her vision blurred, her breath hitched, and without thinking, her knees buckled. she collapsed, slowly sinking to the floor.

Alex, noticing her mother’s distress, didn’t hesitate. she ran toward Anna, throwing her small arms around her in a tight embrace. “Dada come back. Don’t worry.”

she said those last two words with such certainty, like they were a fact, like there was no other outcome. and that only made it harder.

because hope—God, hope had killed more people than Anna could count. hope was dangerous. it made people believe there was something better waiting for them. it made them believe they could survive just a little longer, just until things got better. But things never did.

still, Anna pressed a soft kiss to Alex’s face, her voice gentle, careful, as if she was trying not to break a promise. “yes, baby. daddy’s going to come back. and then it’ll be just me, you, your sister, and dada. just like before.”

and for the first time in a long time, she let herself believe it. because maybe, just maybe, he really would come back.

THREE HOURS LATER -

it was a late night, something between 3am. stars covered the clear sky, making the moon shine. Kyle had his riffle on his shoulders and a gun in his hands, just in a case. walking on a rooftop, where it was hard to be noticed, he thought about them.

his chest hurting and his breathing shallow, the photo in his fingers made him calm. him, Anna with a 4 month baby bump and Alex in his hands. the pogotovo was taken not long ago, when Anna found out that she was pregnant.

he remebers that day so clearly, like it was yesterday. the shock on his face when she told him the news and when he hugged her so thightly, Alex came in a view. her big doe eyes, stared at them in confusion, asking her dad, her head tiltling. "why dada hug mama?"

looking away from Anna, Kyle crouched down to face Alex, took her in his arms and spun her around, while yelling with a big smile on his face. "mama's pregnant!" and Alex, now giggling, when her dad spun her around, her little eyes were so wide, that it looked like they were going to pop out. "YAY! ME HAVING A BABY SISTER!" while yelling with her dad, both of them having big smiles on their faces.

Anna watched them, her hands on her belly, with a big smile on her face. she felt like the luckiest girl in the world, even though everything fell apart. the chance of being happy in this time, made her feel like she was the richest person ever. having a boyfriend, who actually loves her, no matter what argument they had, he always looked at her with so much love.

"why are you so sure its a girl?" Anna asked Kyle, burrying her nose in his neck, while he bringed her closer to him, kissing her hairline softly. "I just do. its like i have this tingle everytime i touch your stomach. its like shes responding to me, look." putting his and Alex’s hand on Anna’s stomach, he gently caressed it, before he felt a slight kick on his side. Alex now grinning when she felt the baby kicking too, whispered like she was not trying to scare off the baby.

"baby kicked mama. baby loves Alex and me loves baby sooo much." she said, her eyes twinkling, and Anna could feel a bonding moment between her and the baby. its like she knew, that one day, Alex will protect her sibling no matter what.

Anna had laughed, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she watched them. Kyle closed his eyes at the memory, pressing his lips into a tight line.

his chest ached. his throat burned. God, he missed them.

kissing the photo softly, and putting it back in his pocket, the tears in his eyes stinged so much it hurt him. his throat closed up making it hurt to breathe or to say something. because he knew, that if he said something, he could break right here.

too lost in his thoughts, his walkie-talkie ringed back to the life. a male voice called out. "kyle? come in kyle, over." quickly takjng his walkie out from his vest, kyle whispered out, his voice slightly shaken up.

"Im here. whats up?" his hands shook slightly, while gripping the walkie-talkie in his hands.

"Jason said that someone has to go to check the mall, to clear out the area." the voice called out. the words hit Kyle like a punch to the gut. "didn’t we lock down the mall for a reason?" he muttered, glancing up at the empty streets. "the place is crawling with infected."

the voice sighed and Kyle swore that he could hear the annoyance behind the voice. "I dont know man, ask Jason. he gave the orders not me." the voice paused for a second, then called out again. "and the last time we checked, the mall was empty. not a single soul was in there, so youre safe."

Kyle’s chest tightened, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. his breath, once steady, now felt too fast, too shallow. the thought of facing the infected again—the thought of dying and leaving Anna and Alex—sent a sickening churn through his gut.

he didn’t fear death itself. he’d always known it was coming. but leaving them alone... that was a thought he couldn’t shake. it made him feel weak, vulnerable.

with a deep breath, he forced himself to focus, his grip tightening on the walkie-talkie. "roger that. I’ll check it out." but as he took another step toward the mission ahead, the image of Anna and Alex lingered in his mind, a haunting reminder of what he had to lose.

--

after a few minutes of walking, Kyle found himself standing in front of the mall. he remembered this place—once bright, alive, filled with people carrying shopping bags, laughter echoing through the halls. friends chatting, families smiling, voices blending together in a hum of normalcy.

now, it was nothing but a hollow shell, its walls crumbling, its windows shattered, the silence pressing down on him like a weight.

he let out a slow breath, adjusting his grip on his rifle. his other hand held a flashlight, the beam flickering as he stepped forward. careful, quiet. the entrance loomed before him, sealed off for a reason, but orders were orders.

the doors creaked as he slipped inside, darkness swallowing him whole. dust clung to the air, and each step felt heavier than the last. he knew where he had to go—the electrical room. if he could get the lights on, he’d be able to see what he was dealing with.

navigating the ruined corridors, Kyle reached the door to the electrical room and eased it open. or at least, he tried to.

the second he let go, the universe decided to turn against him. the door slammed shut behind him with a deafening thud.

his breath caught, his heart hammering in his chest. his grip on the rifle tightened as he froze, listening. nothing. just the sound of his own pulse in his ears. he cursed under his breath, shaking his head before turning to the breaker panel.

his fingers traced over the worn-out wires, his eyes scanning for the right one. a second later, he found it. exhaling softly, he applied pressure to the loose connection, then reached for the switch.

with a flick of his wrist, he pulled the handle down.

the mall flickered back to life. lights buzzed overhead, casting long, eerie shadows across the broken floors. the silence that once suffocated him was now replaced with a low hum, the kind that made his skin crawl.

his eyes flickered to the empty storefronts, once bursting with life—shoppers darting in and out, their hands full of bags, their voices blending into a constant hum of conversation. now, the windows were shattered, dust-covered mannequins stood frozen in time, and discarded clothes lay strewn across the floor, faded and torn.

then, his gaze landed on the arcade.

for a moment, he swore he could hear it—the distant echoes of game machines beeping, the laughter of kids as they raced from one game to another, the rhythmic clatter of tokens falling into slots. his lips twitched into a faint smile.

this place—it was where he met her.

eighteen years old, desperate for an escape, he had found solace in arcades. the flashing lights, the familiar weight of a joystick in his hands—it was the only way to quiet his mind. that day, he'd been focused on setting a new high score when he noticed her.

she stood by the claw machine, blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face. despite the neon glow of the arcade, her eyes were the brightest thing in the room. and that smile—god, that smile—lit up everything around her. her freckles stood out in the dim light, scattered like constellations across her cheeks.

he remembered how she had huffed in frustration when the claw dropped the stuffed animal too soon, hands planted on her hips in defiance. he had laughed, unable to stop himself, and she had turned, eyes locking onto his.

"what?" she had asked, brows raised, though there was a teasing lilt in her voice.

"nothing," he had shrugged, stepping closer. "just thinking I could probably win that for you."

she had smirked, arms crossed. "oh yeah? big talk for a guy who’s probably never played this thing."

that was the start of everything.

standing there now, in the ruins of what once was, Kyle swallowed hard. the memory felt like a punch to the gut. he could almost see her—eighteen again, laughing, rolling her eyes at him.

Kyle stepped into the arcade, the faint neon glow still flickering against the walls, casting eerie shadows across the dust-covered machines. the air was thick with silence, but if he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the echoes of laughter, the chorus of game soundtracks blending together, the rhythmic clatter of buttons being mashed in excitement.

his gaze landed on a claw machine near the back.

a stuffed elephant sat among the pile of toys, its fabric faded but still intact. his heart clenched at the sight of it.

it was just like the one he had won for Anna on her birthday. he remembered how she had clutched it to her chest that night, smiling so wide it made his entire world feel lighter.

swallowing down the ache in his throat, Kyle started searching the room for coins. he moved cautiously, sifting through the dust and debris until his fingers brushed against something cool and round. a grin tugged at his lips as he picked up the scattered coins, dropping them into a small plastic bowl he had found along the way.

making his way back to the claw machine, he took a deep breath and slid a coin into the slot. the machine hummed back to life, its colorful lights blinking as if waking from a long slumber.

Kyle cracked his knuckles and placed his hand on the joystick, maneuvering the claw toward the elephant. he pressed the button, and the claw descended, gripping the toy by its ear—only for it to slip through and drop back into the pile.

"are you kidding me?" he muttered, brows furrowing.

determined, he tried again. and again. each time, the claw teased him, lifting the elephant just high enough to give him hope before letting it go.

frustration bubbling in his chest, he exhaled sharply, shaking out his hands. "alright, one more time."

he lined up the claw, eyes locked on the prize, and pressed the button with full force. the claw lowered, latched onto the elephant’s ear again, and— It held.

Kyle barely breathed as the claw inched toward the drop chute. his hands clenched into fists, his heart pounding as he silently begged the universe not to screw him over this time.

and then— the elephant tumbled into the prize slot. Kyle let out a breathless laugh, fist pumping the air in triumph. "hell yeah!"

reaching into the machine, he gently pulled out the stuffed toy, brushing off the dust before carefully tucking it into his backpack.

just the thought of bringing it home to Anna and Alex made his chest feel lighter, even in a world that had long since forgotten what joy felt like.

for them, he would always find a reason to smile.

walking out of the arcade, Kyle adjusted his rifle and flashlight, moving quickly but quietly, trying not to draw attention. the silence was suffocating, broken only by his own breath and the faint crunch of debris under his boots. his heart pounded hard in his chest, making it difficult to focus.

he checked another store, sweeping his flashlight across the dark corners. empty.

another sigh left his lips as he stepped out, gripping the walkie-talkie from his vest and pressing the side button.

“Aaron? come in. over.”

static crackled before a familiar voice responded. “Aaron here. you clear the mall? over.”

Kyle ran a hand down his face. He was exhausted. “yeah. nothing. place is dead.”

“copy that,” Aaron replied. “head back. Marlene’s gonna lose her shit if she sees you’re not in your spot.”

Kyle stopped mid-step, brows furrowing.

“…what do you mean ‘if she sees’?” his grip on the walkie tightened. “you didn’t tell her I was sent into a sealed-off building? alone? ith fucking infected crawling around?”

Aaron sighed. “look, man, not my call. Jason said it had to be done. I just passed it along.”

Kyle let out a humorless laugh. “had to be done?” his voice rose. “Aaron, are you fucking serious?”

his knuckles whitened around the walkie. “for fuck’s sake—I have two girls waiting for me. a baby on the way. and Jason just threw me into this shit without telling Marlene?”

a beat of silence. then Aaron muttered, “I didn’t have a choice. you know how bitchy Jason gets. you don’t do what he says, and suddenly you’re pulling double shifts.”

Kyle exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “I don’t give a shit about him. he knows I have people waiting for me. and he didn’t even clear this with Marlene?”

Aaron groaned. “Kyle, I know. but don’t put this on me, man. I’m just doing my job. not like I’m getting paid enough for this shit anyway—”

Kyle barely listened as Aaron kept talking. his focus shifted to the exit, quickening his pace, eager to be done with this place. he didn’t notice when the picture and knife slipped from his pocket, hitting the floor with a soft clink.

the noise sent his heart hammering against his ribs. he spun around, scanning the darkness, only to realize what had fallen. “…shit.”

rushing over, he snatched them up, stuffing the picture into his vest for safekeeping. he wasn’t risking that again.

Shaking off the nerves, Kyle adjusted his pack and strode toward the doors, Aaron still rambling in his ear. gripping the handle, he pushed— nothing.

Kyle frowned. tried again. the door didn’t budge. his stomach twisted. “you have to be kidding me.” cursing under his breath, he yanked his backpack off, rummaging through it for supplies. the next few minutes were a blur of failed attempts—pulling, prying, shoving. his patience wore thin.

then, with a sudden snap, the handle broke clean off. Kyle stared at it in his hand, then at the door. then—

“mother fucker!” his voice echoed through the empty mall.

frustrated beyond belief, he made a decision. fuck it. If the door wouldn’t open, he’d make it open. bracing himself, he threw his weight against the door. hard.

BANG.

Again.

BANG.

the noise was too loud, way too loud, but he didn’t care. he was so close. just one more— CRASH.

the doors burst open, slamming onto the ground with a deafening clang.

Kyle barely had time to grab his bag before— a scream. blood-curdling. echoing from deep inside the mall. his blood ran cold. every muscle in his body tensed. slowly, he turned his head.

eyes. empty, dead, and locked onto him.

one infected. emerging from the shadows, crawling over debris, snarling, its hunger razor-sharp. Kyle’s breath hitched. then they ran. and so did he.

his walkie-talkie clattered to the floor, forgotten.

--

pacing the room, Marlene glanced at the map, then the clock on the wall. 5 AM. still no sign of Kyle. no Aaron bursting through her door with a stupid grin, cracking some half-assed joke to break the tension.

something was wrong. with a frustrated sigh, she pushed up from her chair and stormed out of her office, boots thudding against the floor. her mind raced. what if something went wrong? what if they’re stuck? what if— she clenched her jaw, forcing the thoughts down. she needed answers.

reaching Jason’s office, she knocked— three sharp raps. a voice called from inside. "come in." taking a breath, she pushed the door open and stepped in, shutting it firmly behind her. Jason was at his desk, flipping through a file, barely sparing her a glance. too casual. too at ease.

"what's up?" he muttered, eyes scanning the papers like she wasn’t standing there, burning holes into his skull. Marlene folded her arms, stance rigid. her voice came out sharp. demanding. "where are they?"

Jason didn't react. didn’t even blink.

"it’s five fucking in the morning, and they’re not here. What did you do?"

Jason laughed. a quiet, dismissive chuckle, shaking his head. he still wouldn’t meet her gaze. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

wrong answer. Marlene saw red. she was done. done with his smirking, his arrogance, his bullshit. in a flash, she moved—circling the desk, grabbing his collar, yanking him up from his chair.

Jason staggered, hands gripping her wrists, but she didn’t let go.

Marlene sneered, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "don’t bullshit me, Jason." she tightened her grip. "tell me where Kyle and Aaron are. now."

Jason’s breath hitched. he grabbed at her wrist, struggling, trying to pry her off, but she held firm. he gasped, his hands dropping limply to his sides as the oxygen left him. his eyes darted wildly, fear creeping into them. finally, in a ragged, desperate breath, he choked out, "okay, okay—I’ll tell you, just please—"

then— BANG. the door slammed open, rattling the walls. Marlene’s head snapped toward the entrance as Aaron stumbled in, panting, chest heaving.

"Marlene..." his voice was raw, urgent. his hands trembled as he tried to catch his breath. "Kyle—he’s in trouble."

for a split second, everything stopped.

Marlene’s grip slackened, and Jason collapsed back against the desk, coughing violently. but she didn’t look at him. she was already moving. her boots pounded against the floor as she rushed to her office, ripping open drawers, grabbing weapons, supplies—anything she could carry. Her mind screamed at her. this is your fault. you shouldn’t have let him go. you should have stopped him.

Marlene shoved a pistol into its holster, slung a rifle over her back. her hands were shaking. she swallowed the fear, turned to Aaron, and barked, "get what you need and come with me." her voice wavered. she didn’t have time to pray.

but still, under her breath, she whispered, "please. just let him make it."

--

breathing heavily, he clutched his side of ribs, trying to stop the bleeding. the blood gushed through his hands, the color now grimson red. cursing he looked down at the huge cut and hissed. "fuck... this shit really hurts huh?" kyle spoke up between the quick breaths looking at the infected, now dead, talking to himself.

scoffing and turning his head around, the sight making him gag. the sight of blood always made him like this, and yes he knows its stupid. six years into the apocalypse he saw a lots of blood and the stuff anyone was supposed to see.

sighing he thought about the times when the only problem in his life was how to get a girlfriend without making a fool out of himself. the time when he got to see his mom's homemade meals and the times when he argued with his dad over stupid things. the time when he met her. the love of his life. when he first told her that he liked her and the time he got the chance to kiss her. the time when he told her that he loved her. god, just thinking about that made him smile like a highschooler.

over years he thought about one thing. spending the rest of his life with her. growing old with her, their children next to them while their grandchidren ran around the yard, screaming and playing together. and yet he didnt got the chance to ask her the only one thing he always wanted to. to marry him.

every day he saved his money, hoping that maybe one day, he would have the balls to ask her that. and every time he had the chance, he chickened out. what if she doesnt wants to spend her life with me? what if she doesnt loves me anymore? what if im not good enough for her? those thoughts were driving him crazy. made him wanting to rip his own heart out and yell out how much he loved her. how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

and the time when he actually got the courrage to ask her that question, the world went to hell. he remebers the day so clearly, like it was yesterday. the time when she called him, her breath stuck in her throat, sobbing violently and begging him to come and save her. "kyle- something is happening, something bad. people here are screaming and-." static. the line cut off. so he ran. he ran like his life depended on her. thats because it was. he couldn’t do this alone. not without her.

the ring in the box, hidden from her for months was laying down on the ground, forgotten in a rush. to this day, hes always cursing himself for forgeting the ring. if he only had the chance to go back to time and ask her sooner, he would do it all over again.

too bussy reminding himself of his past, the veins on his side grew. bit by bit, his whole side was covered in spores. right. the bite. he knew what was coming. and he wasnt running away from it. for the first time in his life, kyle accepted his fate.

crying softly taking the picture out from his vest, he smiled at it. bringing the picture closer to his lips, he kissed the picture, imagining his little family. his Anna, his Alex and his his unborn baby. it hurt knowing that he wont be there to watch his baby girls grow up. to watch the love of his life spending her life alone. without him. "I love you guys so fucking much." he whispered to the photo, as if they were here, next to him.

he imagined the way that Anna would wrap his side trying to make the blood stop from seeping away. the way that Alex would prepper the kissess on his face, blabering about anything to make her dada feel better. the way that his hand wouldnt leave Anna’s pregnant belly, feeling the little kicks on his hand.

the pain on his side was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. the hoolow ache making his breath heavy, his heart pounding in such a cruel way. to remind him that it was over.

hearing the faint sound of footsteps, Kyle’s hand instinctively reached for the gun at his side, his fingers tightening around the grip, preparing to defend himself. but the voice that broke the silence made him exhale sharply.

"you don’t have to shoot. It’s just us. just me and Aaron." Kyle’s shoulders slumped, exhaustion weighing him down as he lowered the gun, grunting in pain.

“could’ve said that earlier,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his head tilting back against the wall. the world felt distant as the room seemed to tilt. blood pooled around him, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. the pain was nothing compared to what was coming.

Marlene’s voice broke through the fog of his thoughts. "what happened? Why are you here? how did you get in here? Kyle—"

he raised a hand, cutting her off. "stop," Kyle rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "you know what happened. you know how it went down. it just… happened." he stared at the ceiling, his voice quiet. "i tried to stop it… but my mind kept drifting to them. to her. to them… and I couldn’t… I just couldn’t fight it."

Marlene’s eyes filled with tears as she took a step closer, her face pale in shock and disbelief. “Kyle, please… we can stop the bleeding, I can help you, I just need—"

Kyle’s laugh was bitter, the sound rasping in his throat. "help me? Marlene, you and I both know what’s coming. there’s no helping this. I’m gonna turn. I’m gonna be one of them. and there’s nothing anyone can do about it." his voice cracked, the tears slipping down his face as he struggled to hold it together.

"please," he whispered, his words pained and desperate. "please, just—" but Marlene wouldn’t let him finish. she cut him off, her voice shaking. “don’t you dare say that. don’t you dare ask me to—” Kyle’s eyes snapped to hers, his voice cracking with emotion. "you think I don’t want to go back to them? you think I don’t want to hear their voices again? feel her touch? hold them just one more time?"

he was shaking now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the emotion spilled out. "God, Marlene, I would do anything to go back. anything. but I can’t. it’s too late. it’s too far gone." tears mixed with the blood on his face as he reached for her. "please," he begged, his voice hoarse. "i need you to do it. i need you to kill me before I turn. you promised—" he choked on his words, barely able to speak. "you promised you’d protect them if something happened to me."

Marlene recoiled, horrified by the request. “i can’t… i can’t do that. i can’t end your life. not like this. not like you’re asking me to.”

Kyle’s hand fell weakly to his chest, his breath shallow. "Marlene, please." his voice was barely a whisper. "you promised."

Marlene hesitated once again, her hands shaking and her mind racing. the thought of killing her best friends boyfriend made her sick. "what about her? what do I tell her? what do I tell to a three year old, whos asking for her dad, waiting to come back?"

she choked up on her words, she wanted to take them back, she wanted to change everything. "what do I tell to Anna? do I tell her that i killed you? do I tell her I killed you juat because you wanted that? huh?"

kyle sighed out, a slight smile on his face just thinking about them. "you tell them i love all three of them so much. you tell my Anna i wished that if the things were diffrend, that i would make her mine forever. that i would marry her with no hesitation."

tears were framing his face now. the breaths he took were fast and ragged. "you tell my Alex that daddy loves her so much. that she is going to be my baby forever. you tell her I love her 3000."

even through his tears, talking about his family made him happy. it always did. but then he remembered the baby.

“you tell our baby I’m sorry,” Kyle whispered, his voice breaking. “for leaving. for not being there. for making her grow up without me.” his fingers trembled as he clutched the photo tighter, pressing it against his lips. “tell Anna to name her Ellie. our little Ellie.”

with a grunt, he reached for his backpack, fumbling through the blood-soaked fabric. his breath hitched as he pulled out two things: a small stuffed elephant and a knife. “you give these to them.” he held up the elephant first, his voice shaking. “Alex gets this. she loves elephants.” then he looked at the knife. “and this… this is for Anna.”

Marlene watched, frozen in place, as Kyle kissed the picture one last time before carefully stuffing it inside the elephant’s worn fabric. his bloody fingerprints stained the toy as he pressed it to his chest, his body wracked with sobs.

“tell them I’m sorry,” he choked out. “for everything. for not listening to Anna. for not being there when it mattered.” his breath came faster now, his body trembling violently. “Marlene.” he met her eyes, desperate. “do it. now. please. this is the last thing I’ll ever ask of you.”

she shook her head, her grip tightening on the gun at her side. “I can’t.” Kyle let out a broken, guttural sob. “please! Ppease, Marlene! kill me before I—” his words cut off in a strangled cry as his body jerked, muscles seizing, his eyes wild and unfocused.

then, he moved. It happened fast—too fast.

“DO IT!” he screamed as he lunged toward her.

the shot rang out before she could think.

a body hit the floor. silence.

Marlene stood there, her breath ragged, her hands shaking so hard the gun nearly slipped from her grip. the room was suffocatingly still, except for the quiet, broken sobs that fell from her lips.

she had done it. she had killed her best friend’s love. she had killed Alex’s father. she had killed Ellie’s father.

and now, she had to tell them why.

--

Anna paced the room, her arms wrapped around herself, her breath uneven. the lump in her throat made it hard to swallow, the tightness in her chest making every breath feel shallow. worry gnawed at her, twisting in her gut like a knife.

she stopped abruptly, pressing a hand to her stomach as sharp kicks jabbed at her side. the baby was restless—just like her. A soft smile tugged at her lips despite the anxiety weighing her down.

"hey, you," she murmured, running her fingers in slow circles over her belly. "you feeling okay in there?" another kick. a stronger one. Anna chuckled, blinking away the sting in her eyes. "sorry for making you upset. I'm just worried about your dad."

as if in response, the baby kicked again.

"you love your dad, huh?" another kick. "okay, okay, I get it. you love him more than me."

the small moment of warmth settled over her like a fragile blanket, but it didn't last. her eyes drifted to the bed where Alex lay curled up, wrapped in a thick blanket, her tiny fingers gripping the teddy bear Kyle had found for her. that bear was her lifeline—but not as much as her father was. Alex adored Kyle, always trailing after him, laughing at his silly jokes, teaming up with him to tease Anna.

Anna smiled, brushing a few strands of hair from Alex’s peaceful face before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. her heart ached with memories. she remembered the first time she told Kyle she was pregnant with Alex—how terrified she’d been, how she had braced herself for disappointment or fear in his eyes.

but his reaction had been nothing like she expected.

she could still see it so clearly—his wide-eyed shock melting into the biggest grin she had ever seen. and then, before she could even say another word, he had grabbed her, kissed her breathless, and spun her around like an idiot.

"I'm gonna be a dad!" he had shouted to anyone who would listen. "do you hear that? I'm gonna be a dad!" she had laughed, embarrassed, but his excitement was infectious. that whole day, he wouldn’t shut up about it, telling everyone in the QZ, beaming like he had won the lottery.

but she also remembered the looks they got—pitying glances, quiet murmurs. a baby in this world? what were they thinking?

and honestly, she had wondered the same thing. when he caught her growing quiet, he had cupped her face in his hands, pressing gentle kisses across her cheeks, her forehead, her lips.

"ignore them," he had whispered. "fuck 'em all. this? what you're carrying? it's a goddamn miracle." he had kissed her again, softer this time, and rested his forehead against hers. "and I love you for it. I love us."

now, sitting beside Alex in the dimly lit room, she wished she could hold onto that moment forever. but the ache in her chest reminded her of reality. Kyle wasn’t here. and the waiting was killing her.

Too lost in her thoughts, Anna barely noticed the soft murmur that came from Alex. "Dada... miss Dada." Her heart clenched. The ache in her chest sharpened, spreading to her sides. Just hearing those words made her mind spiral. She tried to steady her breathing, to push down the storm building inside her, but it was useless.

Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to Alex’s forehead, whispering into her ear. "Love you so much. I’ll be back."

She slipped off the bed carefully, making sure not to wake her, then moved to the door. Her fingers trembled as she turned the key, locking it behind her.

With each step down the dimly lit hallway, her breathing quickened. She ran through everything she wanted to say, everything she needed to ask—but no words felt right. By the time she reached the other side of the building, she wasn’t even thinking anymore. Just moving.

Anna stopped in front of Marlene’s office and knocked—three times, sharp and deliberate. Silence. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She tried again, rattling the doorknob harder this time. "Marlene."

Nothing. Her chest tightened. Panic crept up her throat. She slammed her fist against the door, her voice breaking. "Open the goddamn door, Marlene. Just—please, open it."

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Anna’s breath hitched as she pressed her forehead against the door.

"Marlene." Her voice wavered now, quieter, but no less desperate. Still no answer.

Her hand curled into a fist, nails digging into her palm. She tried to breathe through the anger, through the grief clawing at her throat. But it was useless. With a sharp inhale, she stepped back and slammed her fist against the door again.

"If you don’t open this fucking door, I swear to God—" The lock clicked. The door cracked open just enough for Anna to see a sliver of Marlene’s face. Tired. Hollow. Eyes heavy with something Anna couldn’t place—regret? Guilt?

Anna’s breath hitched as she met Marlene’s eyes, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. Marlene didn’t turn, her gaze locked on the window, hands trembling at her sides. That didn’t go unnoticed.

"Hey," Anna murmured, stepping closer. "You seem shaken up. What’s wrong?"

When Marlene didn’t answer, Anna pulled her into a hug, her limbs aching with every movement. The second their bodies touched, she felt it—Marlene was stiff, barely holding herself together.

Something was wrong. Anna pulled away, searching her face. "Hey, hey, what’s going on? Did something happen to you? Are you okay?" Marlene’s breath hitched—and then she crumbled.

Her shoulders shook as she broke down in front of Anna, sobs tearing through her. Anna froze, her heart slamming against her ribs. Something happened.

Her mind raced, possibilities running too fast to catch, but one name lodged itself in her throat. "Did—did something happen to anyone? To Kyle?"

Marlene flinched. And then she sobbed harder. The floor beneath Anna may as well have shattered. A sharp gasp escaped her as her vision blurred. No. No, that wasn’t right. Kyle was fine. He was safe. He was coming home. Just like he promised.

"Kyle’s coming home, right?" Anna whispered, desperation clawing at her throat. "He’s on his way to me, to Alex. Right, Marlene?" Marlene shut her eyes, her entire body trembling. "I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry."

The world cracked open. Anna’s breath turned ragged, her chest caving in on itself. "No—no, you’re lying. You’re fucking lying." She stumbled back, gripping her hair with one hand, the other clutching her belly. The kicks against her ribs sharpened, a cruel reminder of reality.

But she refused to believe it. "Kyle—he’s coming back to me," she choked out, shaking her head violently. "He’s alive."

Her voice wavered, but her anger did not.

Something inside her snapped. "STOP FUCKING LYING!" The scream tore through her, raw and broken. "HE’S COMING HOME TO ME! DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME!"

Then the punching began. Her fists slammed into Marlene’s face, her sides—anywhere she could reach. She wasn’t holding back. She couldn’t. The pain was unbearable, and this was the only way to let it out.

Marlene caught her wrists, pinning them to her sides. Their foreheads pressed together, hot tears mixing between them.

"He’s not coming home," Marlene whispered, her voice cracking. "And I am so, so sorry." Anna’s body trembled, her head shaking weakly. "No," she sobbed, fresh tears spilling down her face.

With every tear that hit the floor, she felt herself breaking further.

Her insides ached, but nothing compared to the agony in her chest. God, her heart.

It felt like someone had taken a knife to it and twisted, over and over again. The baby kicked, grounding her, but all it did was remind her—Kyle was gone. Alex and the baby would grow up without him.

Without their rock. Without the man who made them feel safe.

And she—she would have to live without the love of her life. The man who showed her what love was. How it could make her the happiest in the world and, at the same time, completely destroy her. She sobbed, the sound ripped from her soul.

Marlene slowly pulled away, her face twisted with sorrow as she reached into her bag.

Anna barely registered her movements until something soft and cold was pressed into her hands. She looked down. A bloodied stuffed elephant. A knife. Her breath hitched. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the elephant to her chest, clutching it like a lifeline. The knife—God, the knife—her lips pressed to the blood-stained handle, where his hands had once been.

He was still here. Just for a moment, she could still feel him. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

“He told me to give you the knife and the elephant to Alex.” Marlene’s voice wavered, thick with grief. “There’s also a photo inside the elephant.”

Anna barely registered the words. Her fingers tightened around the stuffed toy and the blade, both stained with his blood. They still felt warm, like he had just been holding them.

Marlene took a shaky breath and stepped closer, cupping Anna’s face in her trembling hands. “He said he loves you,” she whispered. “He loves Alex, too. And… he said to name the baby Ellie.”

Anna let out a laugh—sharp, broken, and soaked in tears. It bubbled up from somewhere deep, somewhere raw. “That idiot,” she choked out. “That absolute fucking idiot.” Her voice cracked, betraying the ache in her chest.

She flipped the elephant over, hands unsteady, and pulled out the photo. And god—god, it hurt. Kyle’s face stared back at her, frozen in time. His wide, stupid smile, his face smudged with dirt, his hair a mess. Alex was in his arms, grinning just as big, her tiny hands clutching his jacket. His other hand rested on Anna’s belly.

A life that was theirs. A life that was supposed to be theirs.

Anna’s breath hitched as she pressed the photo to her lips, squeezing her eyes shut, as if holding it close enough could bring him back.

Anna’s breath caught as she pressed the photo to her lips, squeezing her eyes shut as if holding it close enough could somehow bring him back. “I love you so much,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I promise, I’ll keep an eye on them, no matter what.”

A shaky smile tugged at her lips, though the tears kept falling. She could barely speak through the sobs. “And I promise... you’ll be the only man I ever love, for as long as I live.”

14 YEARS LATER -

"Ellie, for the love of God, stop! You're going to break your arms off," Alex muttered, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. She was sitting cross-legged on the dusty floor, surrounded by piles of debris, while Ellie—being Ellie—was still trying to force her way out of the handcuffs with all the determination of a bull.

"No," Ellie snapped, her short response enough to explain everything. The 14-year-old tugged again, her brow furrowed in concentration as she yanked on the cuffs, refusing to give up.

Alex rolled her eyes, slumping against the wall with a resigned sigh. She closed her eyes for a moment, her mind drifting back to three weeks ago. Back when their life—at least the little bit of peace they'd managed to find—felt somewhat stable.

She could still picture it clearly: the cramped room they had shared, the excitement in Ellie’s eyes when they'd gotten the new bunk bed. It wasn’t just about the bed—it was a piece of normalcy they hadn’t had in years. Ellie had jumped at the chance to sleep on top, her laughter echoing through the small room as she declared victory in their little sibling battle.

"Top bunk’s mine," Ellie had grinned, practically bouncing as she climbed to the top.

Alex had tried to argue, of course. She was the older one. "No, I’m the oldest! I get the top bunk."

Ellie had looked at her, giving that defiant grin that Alex knew all too well. "Doesn’t matter. I’m going up there. You can deal with it."

And so, Alex had huffed, crossing her arms in mock frustration, even though a small part of her had been relieved. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with Monica’s snoring anymore. That alone made the bottom bunk more bearable. But now... now those simple moments seemed so far away. The bunk bed, Ellie’s defiant grin, the moments of peace—it felt like a lifetime ago.

Ellie was still tugging at the cuffs, but this time Alex just watched her for a second longer, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She remembered what it felt like to fight over something so small, something so... normal.

"You're impossible," Alex muttered, not with real anger but with that familiar affection. "You know that, right?"

Ellie shot her a quick glance, grinning despite the situation. "Yeah, I know. But you love me anyway."

And for a brief moment, Alex did love her. Maybe a little more than she had before. Because, despite everything—despite the madness and the loss—they were still here. They were still fighting. And that, for Alex, was enough.

-- 

It was a late night, rain falling from the sky, the sky was pitch black, just perfect time to sleep. At least that's what Alex thought. Climbing the window, the poles were wet and impossible to hang on. After a while she finally reached the top, her hand landing on something sticky. She raised her hand to see what's on it and she cursed under her breath. It was a shit from the bird.

The white, sticky substance made Alex's stomach churn. Deciding to ignore it for right now, Alex took one final reach to the window, opened it and got quietly inside. Opening the window, Alex got inside, first taking off her shoes and her wet jacket that had sticked on her like it was her second skin. ‘ew.’ just the thought of having the jacked on her frame a bit longer, made her feel like she wanted to throw up.  

Turning to the wall, Alex took off her jacked and her boots, while changing her clothes. huffing out breath when shirt stuck on her face, she cursed once again and, well, tried get her head out from the damn shirt. After a minute of fighting with a shirt, Alex took off the shirt and sighed out when the shirt finally came off from her. Ready to go to her bed, she turned around and then- a figure screamed out, their knife close to Alex’s face. Alex defended herself, twisting the knife from the person’s arm and grabbing them by their arms and put their head on Alex's bed. “You do that one more time, I swear to god, I am going to throw you out the window.” Alex spoke out, her breath catching in her throat and adrenaline radiating in her veins. 

“Yeah, well you should announce yourself when you're back, not getting in like you're trying to kill me.” Ellie sighed out, her breath quick and her heart pounding in her ears. “Plus, if you throw me out from the window, who's going to annoy your ass?” Ellie winced from the pressure, Alex was pressing to her head, and she tried to get away from her grasp, but Alex only glared at her and smirked. “Yield, then I'll let you go.” Ellie shook her head no, pride filing her voice. “No fucking way, ‘ll rather die than do that shit-” Alex pressed harder on Ellie’s head, and then finally, Ellie yelped and chocked out “okay! Okay, Jesus fine! I yield! I yield!”  

Away from her grasp, Ellie straightened up, her back cracking with each move she made and then she glared at Alex. “You're stupid, you know that right? You wannish for like a week, and then you decide to show up again, like you’re some sort of magician.” Ellie starred at her while Alex starred at her, worry and regret filling her eyes, for leaving her little sister lone. “I'm sorry, I thought it was going to take just a day, and it was going to, but then Jason told me that I have to go on another location and I just-” the next thing that Alex felt was Ellie's pair of arms around her frame, pulling her in a tight hug. The hug that could heal deepest wounds and make you feel like you're safe in someone's arms.  

Alex had no hesitation and circled her arms around Ellie, their limbs pressing onto each other's. She felt horrible for making her little sister worried. Whispering in Ellie’s ear, Alex spoke out, kissing Ellie’s head. “Sorry for worrying you, I promise that for the next two weeks, you and I are doing whatever you want.” and the look that Ellie gave it her made her want to take that back, because the grin on Ellie’s face? Oh yeah, Alex was in deep shit.  

“Really? Anything that I want?” Ellie giggled, stepping away from Alex and looking at her with an evil twinkle in her eyes. “Oh, I want to take it back so bad right now.” Alex whined while Ellie just smiled.  “Can I take it back? I'll take it back. You’re impossible to talk. I swear to God Ellie, if it's something stupid, I am really throwing you out the window-” 

“Don't worry, it's her way on convincing you that there is nothing to worry about. Right Ellie?” then a figure spoke up behind Alex. Turning around, Ellie and Alex saw Riley climbing up the window and with few huffs and puffs, Riley got in the room and closed the window. “Hey, what are we talking about?” Riley now stood tall with her hands on her hips and smile framed her face. Being next to window made her freckles shine under the light, making Ellie blush slightly and looking away. 

That didn't went unnoticed by Alex who was now grinning from ear to ear, teasing Ellie. She wanted to tell Alex to fuck off, but Riley beat her to it. “What? You’re not going to say hi? Or at least say that you’re glad to see me?” Riley asked, her hands dropping on her sides.  

Ellie just glared at her and turned around to go back to her bed. “Why would I? You decide to just sneak away for a night and then never come back.” turning around, Ellie faced Riley, her eyes stinged at how much she had tried to keep them away from falling down her face. Ellie paused, her voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone is leaving me. You, Alex. If you guys just want to leave forever, then fucking say so.” 

Alex’s eyes widened and a pang echoed in her chest. She didn't know that leaving her alone made her feel this way. She hated being the reason when her sister was sad. Looking away, Alex spoke in a slow voice, guilt filling every part of her body. “I'm sorry for making you feel like that, Ells. I swear, fuck- I'm sorry.”  riley on the other hand looked to the ground, avoiding Ellie's eyes, shame filling her entire body. If she knew what Ellie was feeling now, she would be mad too. Just the thought of Ellie or Alex disappearing out nowhere, made her worried. “I’m sorry for making you feel that way. It wasn't my intention. I was just trying to surprise you.” 

Ellies eyes were now full of anger, sadness seeping out of them. “Surprise me? How Riley? By leaving me alone? By making me feel like an idiot? Like I'm some toy, you decided to throw away?” Ellie’s voice was louder now. Loud enough to make an echo in their shared room; the room that Ellie, Alex and Riley had shared.  

Riley paused and then spoke up, her voice thin and quiet. “Surprise you by making you have the best night of your life. With me. With Alex. Nobody else, but us.” tears were sliding down Riley’s face, her eyes red and filled with guilt.  

Ellie’s face fell. Her face before angry, now it was shocked. She was angry at herself for bursting so easily for taking her anger out on her sister, the person who was always with her, who was always on her side, no matter what. On Riley too, she was the person who made Ellie laugh so hard, her stomach filling with butterflies, sending her on the cloud nine. She was the one who Ellie felt seen but not exposed. She was the person that Ellie finally realized that she is in love.  

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart was at war with itself—anger clawing at the edges of her chest while something softer, more vulnerable, tried to break free. She wanted to scream, to run, but she also just wanted to be held, to be understood. 

Sighing Ellie rolled her eyes and wiped them dry, because the tears were falling down her face. Punching Riley’s and Alex's shoulders, she told them, her voice slightly cracking. “Yeah, I'm sorry for lashing out, I guess.” Alex’s face grew in a smile and riley just laughed her face stained with tears. “Yeah, you're sorry because you want to see the surprise.” Alex spoke up.  

Giggling, Ellie threw a pillow on Alex’s face and before she could catch it, it was already on her face. “Well, then, take your big girl pants on and follow me, my lady.” Riley spoke up, her voice now playful and teasing. 

--

Waking up from the short nap, Alex opened her eyes, and she saw Ellie, who was pulling on the chains an hour ago, now fast asleep on her shoulder. Being stubborn in this world carried a lot of consequences, but Ellie being Ellie, she loved that. She loved having control of her own actions, even if it meant that she is going to get in trouble for whatever reason. But having an older sister was even better. Ellie loved Alex so much, that even if having an absolute control of her actions wasn't even enough, because it means that Alex was, the one who always reminded her that she is going to be her sister forever and ever. It meant that Alex was going to annoy Ellie about how dangerous it was to be reckless, to be stubborn, to not accept that people come and go, whether we like it or not. 

Feeling Alex's stare at her, Ellie grumbled in her sleep and slowly opened her eyes. “You know its disrespectful when you’re starring at people like that? You’re scaring them off like that.” Alex just shrugged her shoulders and said with sarcasm dripping in her voice. “Well, that makes two of us.” 

Rolling her eyes, Ellie got up from Alex’s shoulder and stretched out. “How long was I out?”   

“Don't know, maybe like an hour?” 

“And you didn't even bother to wake me up?”  

“Why would I wake you up Ellie? To watch you pulling on the chains?” 

“Exactly! Because unlike you, I'm trying to get us out!”

Alex rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something, but the sound of the doors opening stopped her. Glancing on the other side, she saw a woman in her thirties, the same woman who has been ‘testing’ her and Ellie to see if they are going to turn. Ellie, however, got up from the floor and glared at the woman who was 6 feet away from them, as if she was keeping her distance from them. Ellie looked at the plate she and Alex had from the other day and pushed with her foot, forcing it away from her.  

The woman looked at her papers, a pen in her hand, writing down something. Then she spoke up. “Count slowly and steady.” Ellie rolled her eyes and began counting fast. “onetwothreefour-” the woman looked up from her papers, her voice annoyed and clipped. “Slowly and steady” Alex, now enough of her shit, got up from the floor ang began to count instead of Ellie, because she knew that if she began to say something, she’ll have to deal with it, and she wasn't in the mood for that.  

“One, two, three, four, five” with each number she recited she stared at the woman, her eyes sharpening with every move the woman made. “Six, seven, eight, fuck you.” and then a smirk appeared on Alex's face, her middle finger raised at the end of her sentence. Ellie who was next to her, smiled so big Alex could swear that the heaven above blessed her. “Fuck yeah, that's what I'm talking about!” Ellie high fived Alex, who had the same smile on her face.

The woman rolled her eyes and grumbled something under her breath. Writing something down, she spoke up again. “Now hold up your ha-” and there stood Ellie and Alex, their hands extended out, their posture still. The woman wrote again something in her file. Sighing woman shook her head slowly and spoke up, her voice clipped and short. “State out your names. Slowly.” 

Muttering under her breath, Ellie spoke up annoyed. “Veronica. The same as today, the same as yesterday, and the day before and the day before and the-” Alex cut her off by speaking up. “Alex Williams. Something else?” and she swore, Ellie's eyes fell out from her head, her mouth opening in a shock. “Dude! What the fuck? Why are you stating out your real fucking name?” Ellie whisper shouted.  

Alex turned to face Ellie, and she shrugged her shoulders. The woman wrote something gain and then she closed her file, clutching it to her side. And then she turned round and got out from the room, while them man appeared behind the woman and took the plate from the ground, his back now facing them as he slammed the doors behind him, getting out from the room.   

“Hey!” Ellie shouted and her voice muffled when the doors closed. “HEY! People are gonna come looking for us. People from FEDRA.” her voice cracked with every word she said, breaking Alex's heart. She hated to see Ellie broken apart, her face once filled with smiles, now with nothing else but guilt and anger. “You hear me?! Let us go or you’re gonna pay motherfuckers!”  

Alex saw Ellie's distress and she called out her name. “Ellie, leave it.”  Seeing tears falling her face, she pulled Ellie in a tight hug. The kind of hug that healed all the wounds, the kind of hug that made Ellie forget about all the problems she faced. “Why won't they let us go home?” Ellie said, her voice cracking with every word she said.  Alex could feel her heart breaking in pieces. The tough of Ellie carrying all the problems alone, made her feel uneasy. It made her chest feel like she can't breathe.  

Taking Ellie’s face in her arms, Alex said, wiping away Ellie’s tears. “Hey, hey, Ellie. Hear me out, okay.” Sniffing, Ellie raised her head and looked Alex right in the eyes, when she did, she saw a smile on Alex’s face, like it was the only thing that grounded Ellie from going insane. “There you go. Listen- maybe one day, the day that we are going to escape from this hellhole, we are going to have our own place. The place to live together, to laugh, to eat, to make new memories and the place where we are going to pretend like everything is okay.” tears were dropping on Alex's face, her mind wandering to her dad, to her mom. The time when everything was perfect, even though the world went to shit.   

She can remember her mom’s laugh, it sounded just like Ellie's, her face scrunching up and the way her teeth were showing up every time she smiled. She looked at Ellie one more time and she nodded her head. Yep, just like their mom. She could also remember her dad. She remembers the way his face would scrunch in confusion, his eyebrows making a weird shape that she had. She knew that because Ellie told her so, million times. She remembers the way that he would cackle and the way his eyes would shine so bright, lighter than a diamond. Both of Ellie and her had his eyes, but Ellie had the shape of her mom’s, while Alex had the shape of her dad’s. 

Ellie is energetic, just like their mom, while Alex is calmer, just like their dad. While Ellie is the sun, Alex is the moon. Ellie is sharp on her tongue, she does not care what other people think about her, she's her own person. While Alex is the kind of that will search for comfort in the people that she's closest with. She will run away from her problems, not wanting to face them. Not wanting to remind herself of them. She will pretend like they don't exist. Ellie was like mom, brave, sharp and stubborn, while Alex was like dad. She will protect her loved ones even if it meant that she will be the one who will be gone at the end of a day.  

“We can go to the moon; we can go back in time and see all the dinosaurs you're interested in. We can explore various of books we want to read, the songs we want to listen. We can have monkeys as pets.” hearing that, Ellie laughed, her chest shaking and her smile so wide that could heal all Alex's wounds. “Can we have Captain America as our neighbor?” Ellie asked her tears shining with tears sliding her face, the happy tears. Alex's eyes were so wide and the sound that she had just made, it was hilarious. It gave comfort to Ellie. It gave her hope, that maybe one day, everything could be perfect.  

“We can even have Thor as our teacher about space.” and with that Alex hugged Ellie ono more time, but this time it felt like the darkness, the ugliness and everything in this world didn’t exist. It felt like everything was just like it was supposed to be.  

Alex sighed out a breath she was holding, and she whispered out to Ellie, like she was the only person she was supposed to hear, and no one else. “I love you 3000.”  

Ellie grinned and whispered out. “I could say the same about you too, sis” and with that Alex punched Ellie in the shoulder, while both sister’s laughs echoed in the room. 

--

After many hours and how Ellie would say it ‘more like thousand years later’, a knock interrupted their peaceful sleep. Alex's eyes fluttered open, the sun blocking her view. Ellie jolted awake and as if on command she began counting again. “One, two, three, four-” and then Ellie was the one who saw the woman in her thirties, her skin dark and her curly hair wrapped in a low ponytail, few strands of her hair framing her face.  

On her sides, the woman carried two backpacks. One was Ellie's and the other was Alex's. Nudging Alex, Ellie whisper-shouted to her. “Hey, Lexie wake up, man” With heavy sigh, Alex craned her neck and looked at the woman. The woman looked skeptically at the girls, her eyes widening with every move they made. Finally, deciding to give the girls their backpacks, she threw them on the floor. Ellie was the first one to pick up her own backpack, her fingers opening the zipper and then finally- she sighed out and took the knife and held it closer to her chest, her fingers fiddling it with it. Alex on the other side, looked at the woman and then took her own backpack and slowly opened the backpack, her eyes scanning the inside of it. When her eyes fell on two things, she sighed out and she closed it, clutching the backpack so close to her.  

“You're not scared.” Alex voiced out, her breath slow and her eyes sharpening with every move the lady made. She really didn't look scared, and it made Alex uncomfortable. 

“Then unlock us” Ellie voiced out both for her and Alex. She really hated the feeling of the cuffs on her hand.  

The woman just scoffed and said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “How about we start with thank you?”  

Alex and Ellie said at the same time, their faces confused. “For what?” 

The woman cocked her eyebrows and told them, her voice loud enough for them to hear. “For saving your lives? For telling them not to shoot at you girls? That was me, just in case you didn't know.”  

“And who are you?” Alex asked, her curiosity winning. 

The woman smiled and shook her head. “I'm Marlene.” and Alex swears, her eyes never widened so fast. So, she is the woman who was the leader of the fireflies. Alex thought.  

However, Ellie didn't care for Marlene's name, so she asked her the question that been bugging her since she came in here. “Why did you stop them?” Marlene just shrugged and answered. “We’ll get to that.” 

Deciding to unlock the cuffs from the girl's hands, Marlene leaned forward causing for Ellie to raise her knife away from her and Alex to grab the broken glass from the floor and pointing to Marlene's way. Marlene leaned back and raised her hand, revealing the key in her hand. When the girls saw the key in Marlene's rasp, they looked at each other and nodded their heads. Marlene unlocked Ellie's cuff and then did the same to Alex.  “So, Veronica... Alex” Alex just glared at her while Ellie just giggled at Alex's face. “How do ya feel?”  

“The same.” Alex answered for both of her and Ellie.  

“Is it gonna happen?” Ellie asked, fear filling her voice. The thought of turning in one of them, scared her more than she thought. 

“So, can we go?” Alex asked.  

“We won't tell anyone about any of this, I swear.” Ellie slowly said, her voice full of hope, that Marlene would let them out and they could go back home. The thought of being in this hellhole for one more day, made her feel insane. It made her skin crawl with fear.  

Marlene leaned backwards, her arms crossing and her eyebrows cocking in confusion. “And where are you gonna go?” her voice was now loud and sharp. “Back to FEDRA military school? Are you that desperate to be a solider?” then she turned to Alex and asked her the question that made Alex's heart stop and her breathing gone.  “And you Alex? Do you want to kill your sister, just because she has to kill you? Because you want to make sure that the world one day everything comes back to normal?” Marlene spat. 

Just thinking about that made Alex curl up to herself and never wake up again. Just the thought of her little sister not being here anymore because of her, it made her stop and think about what Marlene just said. ‘Kill Ellie?’ the thought ran around Alex's mind like an echo, her mind glitching and imagining every worst-case scenario. No, she couldn't, she can't, Ellie- she's her little sister. The person who she loves the most, the person whom she promised that she is going to be next to her forever and ever. She promised her mom that she is always going to protect Ellie, no matter what, that its always going to be Ellie and her to the edge of the universe.    

Snapping back in the reality, Ellie's voice broke Alex out of her trance. “You think we chose that place? That we want to be a part of their shitty community that just-ruins the humanity more than it does?” Ellie spat out, her voice trembling with every word she said. “They put us there when Ellie and I were barely old enough to stand on our own. It's for orphans.” Alex continued, her voice small and quiet.  

She can remember the time when she and Ellie just got in there. The weird stares and the hushed whispers with fingers pointed in their direction. She held Ellie closer to her chest, whispering out the soft words to Ellie because she noticed how upset Ellie has gotten. Day after day, week after week, counting turned into years, the stares stopped, but the judging grew. The kids who were surrounding them made them feel like they didn't belong here, like there was no place for them. 

Marlene watched the girls, and a smile appeared on her face, making Ellie frown. “They didn't put you here.” she paused and then said again “I did.” 

Ellie watched Marlene with a shock on her face while Alex just stood there. She felt like something, or someone was telling her that, maybe, Marlene knew her parents. She knows that there was a woman who was her mom’s best friend, and she remembers that the lady had the dark skin and curls, but she couldn't remember her face. The feeling irked her, it made her want to claw out her yes and to remember the lady, to know who she was to her parents.  

“... are you my fuckin mom or something” Ellie asked, a chuckle in her voice.  

“Do I look like your mom?” Marlene asked with a small smile on her face.  

Ellie turned to Alex as if she was searching for answers and i almost made Alex laugh, but instead she just shook her head no and then Ellie turned back to Marlene “no, you're not” 

“As I told you, my name is Marlene. though you probably already know that.” she turned to face Alex, and she saw the stare Alex was giving her. Like she as trying to find the lost piece of her memory in her eyes. A shook of wave ran in Marlene's veins, and she looked back at Ellie, though she could still feel Alex's stare at her. “I'm the leader of the fireflies in the Boston QZ.” 

Ellies eyes widened at the sudden confession, so she asked. "Why would terrorists dump us with FEDRA?”  

Marlene sighed out and she leaned forward.” because its where you'd be safest, and you were safe until you decided to sneak out and-” Marlene paused and thought about the next words she’s going to say, because she knew that they were going to hurt. “Terrorists? Was Riley a terrorist?” 

The words that she said fell like bomb. The grip on the knife Ellie held was so strong, Alex thought her hand would bleed out, so she held Ellie close to her, while she could feel the tears dropping on her face. “Why won't you let us go home?” Ellie asked while the tears swelled up in her eyes as well.  

Noticing the tears of the girls, marine's heart dropped to her knees. She knew how much Riley had meant to the girls. Just like Anna has to her. Being her friend since the childhood mad it harder for her to process her death. even now, she grieved, but she hid it so well. “Because you, Ellie, gave a greater purpose than any of us could ever imagine.” 

Alex looked at Marlene so wide, she thought her fuckin eyes were going to pop out from her skull. The purpose? What purpose? Why is Ellie special to them? What are going to do with Ellie? Are they going to take her away from Alex? No. No no no no no- they- they couldn't. They shouldn't. She swears that the day they take Ellie, is the day that she will burn the whole world just to find her, just so her little sister could be with her again.  

Ellie looked at Marlene, confusion written so clearly on her face. Wanting to ask about more, Marlene interrupted her.  “So, we’re leaving tonight, and we are taking the two of you with us.” 

The knock interrupted the heavy tension in the air, the tension that was hard to swallow. “He's here.” the same woman who tested out Ellie and Alex if they ever turned, and Ellie being the menace she is, she stuck out her tongue at the woman and the woman rolled her eyes and closed the doors. “Five minutes.” Marlene said.  

When the doors shut close, Marlene spoke up, the seriousness in her voice clear than ever. “What I'm about to tell you, cannot be repeated to anyone. Because if you do-” Marlene's words were firm and short. “I assure you; you will die.” 

FEW HOURS LATER -

Looking back, Ellie wished she wasn't born. She just wished that Alex, her mom and dad had a happier life. But no, the universe had a dumb way of saying ‘hey! So, this is the life you’ll live from now on. Have fun!’ and she hated it. She hated the fact that her and Alex had to live in this world, the world that's consumed by murder, by hope. Hope. Fuck that shit. She hated that feeling. she hated when it got the best of her, only to let her down.  

Her thought interrupted the talking of a man and woman, probably Marlene fighting with some jackass. Then there was the real fighting, the wrestling and then- gunshots. She looked at Alex and her eyes were wide. Alex knew what is going to be the next thing Ellie's going to pull off, so, she shook her head no at Ellie and tried to grab her arm from walking out from the door. Ellie got her arm out before it could fall into Alex's grasp and she slowly waled to the doors, her footsteps quiet. Finally, she reached the doors, and she pressed her ear against it. Hearing the faint footsteps, she told Alex to quiet it down and he pressed herself harder against the doors. Alex, now sick of Ellie, she stepped closer and tried to get her away from the doors, but then a voice spoke up behind the doors, making her stop in her tracks. The voice was gruff and heavy, looks like it was a man’s voice and then she heard a soft-spoken voice, the woman’s voice.  

Now Alex did the same thing as Ellie, she pressed her ear against the doors, making Ellie grin widely. Opening her mouth to say something snarky, Alex's hand stopped Ellie, and she glared at her. Then the footsteps stopped. Why did they stop? Did the man and the woman found out that they are behind the doors, listening to them? What are they going to do? Are they going to hurt Ellie? The thought run around Alex's mind like a mantra, making her breath stop.  

And then Ellie decided to do something stupid. In a moment of a haze, Ellie threw herself at the doors, and got out falling against a man who was probably in his 50’s. Her eyes wide and her breath quick, Alex cursed loudly and called out for Ellie.  “Ellie! What the fuck are you doing-” and the next thing Alex saw made her stop in her tracks and takeout the gun from her waistband she hid from Marlene. A man pushed Ellie against the wall, making her drop to the floor, his gun pointed at her. A switch turned in her head and she stepped closer to the man and put her gun on his head, nudging his head with her gun. The man craned his head to look at Alex who stared at him, her eyes burning his skull.  

Then a voice interrupted her interaction with a man, her eyes snapping to the voice. Marlene and Kim-the woman whom she just met. “Joel?” her eyes snapped back to Ellie’s; her concern bigger than the awkwardness in this room. “Marlene?” the man spoke up. How do they know each other? Alex wanted to ask Marlene, but her attention was on Ellie, who was having a hard time breathing, a man's gun pointed at her. Seeing that Alex spoke carefully. “Put the gun down, or I'm gonna blow your brain out.” the man looked at Alex once more and scoffed, his gun still pointed at Ellie.  

Marlene looked at Ellie and pointed out, her voice annoyed. “Jesus, Ellie, you can’t be stupid like that.” 

Joel scoffed and then the woman behind him spoke up. Her face stitched up, probably because, well, she was injured. “So, this is who Robert screwed us over with?” her face showed a sign of annoyance, and she continued. “The Che Guevara of Boston? I mean the war must be going shitty for you to buy merch from scumbags like him.”  

Marlene sighed out and she held her now bleeding side “Yeah well it has been. The merch was bad, and he obviously didn't take ‘fuck off’ for an answer.” 

Ellie listened the conversation and her hand flied to her pocket, where her knife was hidden. The knife was safely tucked in her pocket- wait. Her knife.  where it is. Ellie patted her pockets, and her eyes met Alex's as if she was asking her for help. Alex took a deep breath, and her eyes scanned the hallway, and then- the knife. It was next to Joel's leg. Finally seeing it, Ellie reached for the knife, only to be under Joel's foot, away from Ellie's grasp. “Give me my knife” “Give her, her knife.” Ellie and Alex spoke up at the same time.  

Joel only ignored the girls, and his head turned to Marlene. “What do you need a car battery for? "Ellie did the stupid move again, making Alex's heart stop. She stuck her hand out to grab the knife, and Joel pointed his gun again at Ellie, his voice now threating. “Don't.” 

Alex just pressed her gun at Joel's head harder and she sneered at him, her voice full of venom. “Drop the fucking gun.” while Marlene pointed her gun at Joel and said, carefully, her voice filled with worry. “Not at her. Point at me.”  

Then Marlene decided to tell Alex the thing that she didn't even dare to do. “Alex, drop the gun.” Alex just scoffed and pressed the gun to his head. “Alex for the love of God, drop the weapon.” and then with a final glance at Marlene, Alex dropped the gun down, her hands dropping to her sides.  

“To answer your question, I need it for better reason than you do. No offence, but tommy’s just one man.” Marlene clutched her side.  

“how's he just one man-” Marlene interrupted Joel. “it's our business to know things.” 

“To know things?” Joel asked. “you're the cause of it.  you turned my own brother against me.” 

God damn, this guy had it all, Alex thought.  

“That was a lot of gunfire. FEDRA’s gonna be on the way.” Kim pointed out, the women who was on Marlene's side. 

“We were gonna move Ellie and Alex outta the zone tonight, but we won't make it anywhere like this. Not for a while anyway.” Marlene pointed out. “So, I think you're gonna do it.” Marlene pointed to Joel and Tess.  

What? Why them? No, not a way in a hell, Alex thought. She was going to take her alone in there, even if it meant that bunch of FEDRA officers are going to be on her for that.  

“We are not going with them” Alex and Elie said at the same time.  

“Let me take her.” Kim said. 

“Kim, you don't have a fuckin ear on your head, don't you dare to take her.” Marlene pointed out. 

“Tess, we don't have time for this.” Joel and Tess were ready to walk out from the hallway, their missions now dropped in water. “You don't have time?” Marlene asked the pair.  

“Who are they to you?” Tess asked Marlene. It really irked her off, the thought that they must take the girls.  

“To you, they're cargo.”  

“We don smuggle people.” Joel pointed out. 

Marlene sighed out. She wanted to bang her head against the wall until it falls off from her shoulders. “there's a team of fireflies waiting for he two of them at the old state. I know what's out there. We are going with an entire squadron for that very reason.” Marlene spoke up. Looking at Ellie and Alex, their faces twisted in confusion, she continued. “But now I don't have a truck, I don't have a squadron. FEDRA’s five minutes away. What I do have is you. And I know what you guys are capable of. For better or worse.” Marlene finished; her breath quick at the speed she spoke.  

Ellie was, at least to say, surprised to what Marlene just said. Jesus that's a lot of work. Ellie thought. “What are they capable of?” 

“You need to get her and Alex safely there. They will get you what you need. Not just a battery. The whole thing. Fueled up trucks, guns, supplies all of it. I swear.” Marlene said.  and the second Ellie head the word guns coming out from Marlene's mouth, her eyes widened in excitement. Alex just shook her head no and she mouthed out to Ellie ‘no fucking way, stay where you are, Ellie.’ and then with a swift of his leg, Joel kicked Ellie's knife away, making Ellie to curse at him. “Asshole.” 

Joel paused and then he turned his back, and he pulled Tess to the side, the two of them talking it out. The second he did, Alex rushed to Ellie's side and engulfed her in a tight hug. “What is wrong with you. I told you to stay back, you shithead.” Alex whispered out to Ellie.  

Then Tess broke out from Joel's distance and spoke up. “Okay here’s the deal. We'll get them to your crew at the statehouse. But before we hand her over.” she pointed to Ellie. “They give us everything what we want. If not, we kill ‘em there and then.” Tess finished talking.  

“Deal.” Marlene just nodded.  

What' oh hell no. Alex will kill them before anyone touches her little sister. No way in hell. Just the thought of handing Ellie to someone Alex didn't believe in made her feel like Shes trapped in a trap.  

“Really, that fast?” Ellie spoke up, her face offended.  

“you two are all that matters.  my team will not jeopardize that.” Marlene told Ellie and she looked both girls. "Remember what I told you. Now go get your backpacks.” Ellie hesitated while Alex didn't wait a second, before marching off and taking her backpack with her. “Now Ellie.” Alex voiced out to Ellie.  

Ellie got up and took her backpack from the room they were once in and then she got out, looking back at Marlene and then she knocked her shoulder against Joel's, making him slightly stumble from the impact.  

Joel, who was already walking away from Marlene heard a soft spoke voice, coming from Marlene. “Joel. Don't fuck this up.” and with that he walked out from the hallway into the streets.  

-- 

After few hours passed by, Alex and Ellie were still sitting in the chair. Suddenly the snore snapped them out from their conversation and Ellie spoke up. “You mumble in your sleep.” 

Joel just rolled his eyes, and he got up in a sitting position, facing the girl. Ellie continued with her rambling. “I've ever been on the other side of the wall. Look at how dark it is.” Ellie glanced at Joel and then at the window again. “you guys go there a lot?” 

Joel just sighed out and spoke up. “I guess.”  

Alex just stared out the window, listening to their conversation. She got out a lot. She seen the city, the last bits of the fallen Boston. She seen the infected a lot of the times. She killed them too. Not just infected, but the people too. it's not something she’s proud off. After all she was forced to do that. she can hear the screams of the people begging her not to take away their lives. 

“When was the last time?” Ellie asked, looking out the window.  

“I don't know, maybe a year. Why ask?” Joel questioned.  

“You know where to go. So, we are gonna be okay.” Ellie whispered out. Alex noticed the discomfort in Ellie’s posture, so she did something that she knew would calm Ellie down. The though f losing Ellie over something stupid, made he feel like she wasn't worth her. Ike she wasn’t worth of being Ellie's sister. “Hey, hey, it's okay, c'mon.” Alex whispered out to Ellie, her arms circling around Ellie.  

Joel noticed the sudden change between the sisters, softly called out to the girls. “Yeah. So, what's the deal with the two of you anyway? You some kind of bigwig's daughter or somethin’?” his eyes never leaving Alex's.  

“Something like that.” Alex spoke up, her voice quiet before turning her attention to the window once again. Joel raised his eyebrows in shock. So, the girl can speak. 

“The radio came on when you were sleeping.” Ellie spoke up, making Alex grin slightly, knowing what she was planning to do. And like on the sign, Joel's back stood up straight and the panic in his voice, made Alex grin even more under her palm. “What? What was the song?” Joel asked. 

“Something like-” Ellie continued, her eyes now turning to Alex's waiting for her to finish the sentence. “Wake me up before you go-go?” Alex finished out. And just on the cue, Joel sighed out and cursed under his breath, not before running the hands on his face.  

Ellie grinned and opened her mouth to say something more, Alex interrupted her. “Gotcha. 80’s means trouble. Code broken.” Alex finished out and hen looking over to Ellie, her hand raised out to high five Alex.  

Then a switch turned in Joel's had. Damn it. The girls guessed the code.  Joel who was sitting on the couch, he stood up from it and he walked over to the girls, his footsteps heavy and his voice shuddering.  “Listen-” and then the rattle of the doorknob interrupted him, Tess getting inside the room and locking it behind her. “The spot under Lancaster looks good. "Then she turned Alex and Elie and asked them. “you two got a jacket in those backpacks?” 

Alex was the first one ho nodded her head yes and answered “yeah.”  

“Okay, get it. It's time to go.” Tess pointed out to the girls.  

The girls, Alex and Ellie. Goth their jackets out from their packs and put the jackets on and their backpack on their shoulders. The sudden change in the air made Alex take a deep breath and to prepare herself for the worst-case scenario. Joel, Tess, Alex and Ellie got out from the doors; the apartment now empty.  

-- 

To say that the rain wasn't still falling, Alex could only lie to herself. Yep, she still hates the rain. While Ellie is enjoying the feeling of the droplets of the rain in the fucking tunnel they were in. Alex could handle guns, knives, blood and even maybe a pair of infected, but water on her skin? Ugh she hated that. Stuck in her own thoughts Ellie broke her out from it, and she told her, a smile on her face. “Ahh the water. You love this part, right Lexie?” and Alex just shoved Ellie's shoulder, making her stumble against the wall.  

Finally, after what it felt like a decade of walking around in the tunnel, Joel stopped and began climbing up the stairs. Wait, what? The stairs? Like the one who are stuck to the wall? Alex gulped and began slowly climbing up after Ellie her breaths rushed. After a while Joel stopped once again, and Alex swore that she never had a tight grip on something. Finally, once again, Joel lifted the cover and slowly got out, then Ellie and Alex following her and Tess being the last one. After checking if anyone got safely out, Joel placed the cover back. And then Ellie deciduate up from the floor and look around, shouting. “Holy shit, I'm actually outside!”  

Alex's eyes widened and she took Ellie by her hand and pulled her down to crouch once again, before whisper shouting “what are you doing? are you out of your mind?!” then the light flashed out in their direction, Alex pulled Ellie on the ground, her breathing uneven at how much stuff was happening right now.  

“Okay we’re gonna tail the left edge around the buffer zone. You stay close and you follow my lead. Got it?” Tess whispered out to the girls, but mostly to Ellie. Because she noticed how much she wanted to see around her. Alex and Ellie nodded, and Tess spoke up again. "Let's go.” 

The group finally moved Tess leading again and Joel checking up if anyone was following, while the girls just followed Tess, their hands brushing lightly. Alex watched the way Tess walked towards, and her mind started to wander. She remembers this way. The time when she was sent on the mission, she was only 16 years old. sent off alone in the mall. To see if the mall was empty, if there were any signs of infected. She had spent the whole night in there, checking the corners around. luck was on her side, even tho she didn’t believe in it.

The group finally moved Tess leading again and Joel checking up if anyone was following, while the girls just followed Tess, their hands brushing lightly. Alex watched the way Tess walked towards, and her mind started to wander. She remembers this way. The time when she was sent on the mission, she was only 16 years old. sent off alone in the mall. To see if the mall was empty, if there were any signs of infected. She had spent the whole night in there, checking the corners around. Luck was on her side, even though she didn’t believe in it. She remembers the time when FEDRA used to hang people just because they wanted to have a touch of a freedom once in their lives. The screams, the sounds that people made, it engraved in her brain. Ellie being curious didn't make it any better. She wanted to see what's like out there, to see why everyone is going outside the walls. Ellie and Riley wanted to see what's like out there. Alex fought with her blood, sweat and tears for Ellie not to go there; she tried the same with Riley. But Riley didn't listen. So, she left, she left and explored the walls, the malls, the areas that were restricted trespass into. And then she joined the fireflies. While Alex left the fireflies, Riley joined them.  

The shuffling of the footsteps broke her out from her trance, the voice sharp and horribly familiar. Before she could have a chance to take Ellie by her arm and to run away, a voice stopped her. “What the fuck? Hey! Hey, hey, hey! Don't move! Don't move!” Tess and Joel immediately stopped and raised their hands up, while Alex just shoved Ellie to the side. The officer just gasped and whispered out to Joel and Tess “You gotta be shitting me.” 

“Okay let's just talk this out.”  Joel said his hands shaking, trying to find a way to get the hell out from here. The officer just scoffed and pointed his riffle to the group. “Turn around.” Joel tried again, his voice still. "Wait, hold on-”  

“Get on your knees! Get on your fuckin knees!” the officer yelled out; his patience thin while the light on his riffle flashed out and revealed Tess, Joel, Ellie and Alex. And just on a cue, the officer starred at Alex and chuckled out, pointing his riffle now on Alex. “So, you're the famous Alex Williams, huh? Wanted to follow your daddy’s steps, right?” Alex’s throat bobbed and her hands shook, her mind rewinding the time when everyone from the fireflies used to make fun of her, just because her dad was in there. All the stares she got, the pitying looks, it made her feel weak, and she didn't like that. So, she closed herself up and just did the tasks she needed to do. Plus being an older sister to a newly born sister was a hard thing to do. Even when growing up, Alex used to tell her all the memories she had from her parents. Ellie loved that and even if she never met their parents, Ellie learned to love them. 

 The officer saw how uncomfortable Alex looked so, he just continued “guess that didn't work out, huh? Man, I wish my dad was now next to me-” Joel stopped the officer, yelling out and noticing the way Alex's tears started to swell up in her eyes, her breath shaking and her lips trembling, like she was in some kind of trance. “Hey! Focus on me. Not her alright?” 

The officer just smirked and spoke up, his voice filled with nothing, but venom. “Why, so she could escape? Yeah man. Keep fuckin dreaming. Now get on your damn knees!” 

Tess sighed out and she got on her knees, her back facing the officer now, and Alex, Ellie and Joel got down and did the same thing as Tess. “Just get on your knees. Just get on your knees, c'mon.” Tess told them.  

The officer now dropped his rifle and walked over the group, while Tess spoke up. “Listen, you let us do this run... we'll split the cards with you.” the officer just scoffed and spoke. “Oh, will you?” Tess nodded her head “yeah!” 

Sitting on their knees, Alex and Ellie looked at each other as the officer took out the device, their eyes wide and Ellie’s eyes starting to sting. That was it. The officer is going to kill her for even finding out. Alex is going to be alone, and she is going to grieve Ellie to the rest of her life. Alex took out the knife from Ellie's pocket and hid it in her sleeve, ready for the attack.  

“Oh, I'm so blessed. Hands on your head, eyes forward. Hands on your head!” the officer just yelled out.   

The group interlocked their fingers and put them behind their heads, ready for the scanning. Ellie looked at Alex and whispered out to Alex. “I'm scared.” and when Alex looked at her, she could feel thousands of emotions flooding through her eyes. So, she just whispered out to Ellie, her voice filled with worry. “It's okay, we’re okay.” and Ellie just nodded her head.  

Tess saw the device and she grumbled, her voice annoyed. “Really man?” 

The officer just nods his head. “Yep. we're doing this by the book.” 

“Jesus Christ.” Tess grumbled. 

The officer put the device on Tess's head, and it beeped, showing the green screen, meaning she is not infected. Then next was Joel and the officer did the same thing with Tess. The device beeped and it showed the green screen, making Joel sigh out.  

“Unauthorized exit. They'll hang you for that.” the officer said.  

Joel rolled his eyes and spoke up, craning his head to look at the officer. “Fine! Everything off this run and half of the pills!” 

The officer just scoffed and spoke up. “Half of? No, all off!” 

Next up was Alex, and the officer stood behind her, grabbing her by her hair, making her wince out and he scanned her neck. “Risk my job for half of the fuck-” the officer stopped and spoke up the grip on Alex's hair tighter now. “Oh, I'm so going to get rich for this girl right here. Isn't that right Alex?” 

 The officer took the device out from Alex's neck, and he looked at it, then the screen got orange, making the officer furrow his eyebrows and ask Alex, his voice curious. “What the hell is this supposed to mean?” and Alex just shrugged, her smirk wide and dangerous. “Don't now.  why scared I might kill you?” and the officer ignored her stepping closer to Ellie and scanning her neck. The next thing Alex pulled happened in a blur. She got the knife out from her sleeve and jabbed it into officer shoulder making him grunt and yell out, while she just pounced on him, moving Ellie out of the way. 

“Fucking bitch! I'm gonna fucking kill you-” the officer got up from the floor pointing his gun at Alex, her stance still, only for officer to laugh in a mocking manner and he spoke up. “Oh! Look at that! Joel Miller being the protective daddy that he is.” then the officer said again, his voice full of hatred and will to kill Alex. “Get out of the way!” 

Joel stood in front of the officer, his hands raised in front of him, trying to stop the things from going south. “Wait! We can fix this!” his hands hook and his mind wandering off on the memory he didn't want to remember.  

The officer just stared at Joel, and he yelled out. “Move! Move you fucker! MOVE-!” and then Joel pounced on the man, and hitting him with his fists clenched up, bruising the man’s face, and Joel’s knuckles filled with the officer's blood. He continued to punch the officer until he was unconscious. Then he turned around and saw Ellie and Alex, looking at him in shock and then the man who was probably dead.  

Tess however saw the device and looked at it, screaming out to Joel. “Joel! JOEL LOOK AT THIS” and Ellie noticed that and raised her sleeve, revealing the wound to Tess, trying to convince her otherwise. “No! No, no. Look! I'm not sick!”  

Alex saw the encounter between Tess and Ellie, and she stepped in, her voice shaking.  “No- Tess, she's not- she isn't infected-” Ellie just yelled out, her hands shaking. “I'm not sick! Look! This is three weeks old! Nobody lasts than a day! Does this look like a day old to you?” 

“i should fucking kill you! When did it happen?” Tess asked, sneering at Ellie. Alex heard what Tess had said and stood in front of Ellie, and she got into Tess's face, her voice threating. “You do that, and I'll make sure you have the slowest and the most painfull death ever-” 

Elie shrugged Alex's arm of her and spoke up again. “It doesn't matter! You have to trust me! They're gonna catch us if we don't run!” 

Joel looked at Tess, Alex and Ellie and he spoke up. “The pipsqueak is right. We have to move.” he looked at Tess and he spoke up, picking up the riffle officer had and flung it over his shoulder. “We gotta move Tess. C’mon.” he looked at the officer, who was on the ground, now definitely dead from Joel's powerful punches on his face.  

He turned around and followed the girls and Tess, going through the fence, the sharp edges scraping his skin, burning him. 

While they walked, Alex wondered how will everything turn out after Ellie saves the world?  What will happen to her? Will there be any consequences? Will Joel and Tess be there when the situations get ugly, while they travel all the way to the fireflies. The ones that Alex gave up from long ago, before becoming her own person and doing everything on her own. Only the universe will know. 

Until then, she will make sure that nothing happens to Ellie. Ever. Or that's what she thought. 

[gomzdrawfr]

special episode: animal crossing new horizon crossover

first off, my fav guy, Blathers but it's Gaz

Then the dodo airline, featuring a very chatty Orville Johnny and Wilbur John....

Last but not least...