#laur writes

“I am a horse. You’d do it for a horse.”

Tears rolled down her face. His body was heavy where he was laying in her arms.

“Lils. Shh…it’s okay.”

A palm cradled the back of her head, pushing her forehead down to rest against his.

“I’m sorry. I’ll wait for you. I’ll always be with you. I promise.” 

Lips pressed a soft kiss between her brows.

“I’ll love you forever.” 

Her chest spasmed with the agony of having her heart ripped out. 

“I love you more than anything,” she whispered, pressing kisses to his face.

A gunshot rang out. Her hand rested on his chest where warm blood had started to bloom. 

She couldn’t feel his heartbeat anymore.

Blue eyes dead and lifeless. Warmth draining away. Body going still. 

She broke. 

Forehead on his chest. Letting out a wail that seemed to go on, and on, and on. 

No, no, please don’t leave me. I can’t live without you, I don’t know how…

Flashes of people reaching out to her. Of Duke clutching for her hand. Johnny and Charlie trying to pull her away from the body. She was screaming, trying to hold onto him. As if the outpouring of her love and grief could somehow bring him back to life. 

I will never love again. 

A red wagon on a hill. Fire blazing in the dark as the sun sank below the horizon. The body inside the vardo melting away to nothing but ash. Gone, forever. 

Her knees digging into the dirt next to the flames, head in her hands. Weeping until she physically had no more tears left to shed. And then she just screamed, the pain too great for her to do anything else.  

He’s gone. He’s gone forever. 

I’ll never see him again. 

It’s all my fault.

I miss him. 

I want him back, I want him back, I WANT HIM BACK!

She could feel someone shaking her. Calling her name. Probably Johnny or Charlie trying to bring her back from the grief-stricken madness she was lost in.  

Please, someone make it stop. It hurts too much. I can't live without half my soul oh God, Tommy, please no…

“Lily! Lily!” 

Her eyes flew open.

Where was she? Had the boys finally taken mercy on her and put her out of her misery? Given her what she begged for in the form of a bullet to the back of the head like you would a mad horse?

Her eyes darted about wildly, squinting against the dark. It took her a moment before she recognized the interior of her and Tommy’s bedroom.

A hand brushed across the back of her head, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. 

“Lils?”

She was wrapped up in someone’s arms. Pulling back, she stared up, into Tommy’s face.

Where he had been cold, he was now warm. Those blue eyes, dead and lifeless the last time she saw them, were bright and alive. 

She burst into tears. 

Tommy’s brows drew in, the concern that deepened his face reminding her of the way he had looked at her as she cradled his dying body in her arms. 

“Sweetheart, what…?”

She didn’t let him finish, instead flinging her arms around his middle and crushing herself to him. Against her ear, she could hear his heart beating. Strong and steady. 

Tommy’s arms tightened around her, a hand cradling the back of her head. 

“Shh…it’s alright.” His lips pressed to her temple. “You’re alright. I’m here.” 

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears still leaking from her eyes, holding onto him so tightly he likely would have bruises in the morning. But he made no indication of complaint or movement to get away.

“There you go, love,” he murmured, when her heaving, wailing sobs started to give way to quiet sniffles. His strong hand kept rubbing up and down her back, rocking her delicately from side to side. “There you go.” He pecked her head again. “That was some nightmare, eh?” 

She nodded weakly against his chest, and he gave her a little squeeze.

“You want to talk about it?” 

She shuddered, giving a small shake of her head. She knew she would have to tell him eventually. No way would he let her get away with such a performance of hysterics without finding out what caused it. But she knew that if she spoke about it now, she would fall apart again. 

“Okay,” Tommy said, not pushing the subject any further for the moment. Seemingly content to just sit there with her, holding her together and letting her weep her grief and relief into his chest.

* * *

Tommy watched Lily through the smoke wafting from his cigarette. She had her head down, pencil clutched between her fingers while she edited pages of his book. His typewriter sat in front of him, the ink still drying on the paragraphs he’d typed up that afternoon. 

Every once in a while, he could feel her gaze shift to him. Beneath the table, he’d let the toe of his shoe rest against her calf. In silent reminder that he was indeed there with her. 

Putting his cigarette out in the ashtray, he pushed back from the table and rose to his feet. Lily’s head snapped up. 

“Where are you going?” she asked.   

She’d been clingier since that nightmare she had a few days ago. Not that it was rare for them to be practically attached at the hip all hours of the day, but this felt different. Like she was genuinely terrified that if she let him out of her sight, he’d disappear. 

He didn’t mind. Not really. He liked having her close. But he was worried for her wellbeing. Nightmares weren’t an uncommon occurrence in their house, but this one seemed much worse than usual. She’d scared the absolute shit out of him when he woke up to her screaming and sobbing next to him.

“Just have to go take a piss, love,” he dropped a reassuring kiss to the top of her head on his way towards the loo. He could feel her eyes watching him the entire short walk down the hall to where the washroom was. He left the door open rather than bother closing it, for her peace of mind. They’d been together long enough and he’d pissed in front of her a good handful of times. No need to try to keep a long-dead mystery alive when all it would do was make her more nervous.    

He was just finishing, going to the sink to wash his hands, when she appeared in the doorway. Shoulder leaned against the frame, lip caught between her teeth as she watched him with wide, nervous eyes in the mirror. As he scrubbed at his palms with the soap, she came over and wrapped her arms around his middle, lips pressing to his shoulder and head pillowing against his back. Toweling off his hands, he settled his palm on top of hers, thumb stroking along her knuckles. 

He couldn’t say how long they stood there for. But when he turned around to face her, Lily’s eyes were a little glassy. He cupped her face in his hands, petting at her cheekbones. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, voice soft even though it was just them.

“Yeah,” but she answered too quickly for it to be convincing. Leaning forward, she tucked her face into his chest, ear coming to rest right above his heart. 

Tommy hugged her back, frowning. He understood. Really. The way she’d described her nightmare to him, it sounded bloody awful. He’d have been a wreck too if he dreamed up something like that involving her. But…   

“You haven’t been yourself these last couple of days.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize. Talk to me.” He drew back enough to look into her eyes. “What really happened in your dream, Lily?” 

She tensed, looking away. “You were…you died…” her voice broke a little on the last word, and he squeezed at her arms to try to comfort her. 

“I know that part. What else?” 

She looked up at him, eyes wide. “What do you mean?” 

“What else happened, love?”

“I…I don’t remember.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction, weighing whether or not to press further.

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” 

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” he said, the need to comfort her quickly overriding his curiosity. “C’mere,” he pulled her back into his chest. But the way she immediately relaxed at his dropping of the subject only made his frown deepen. 

There was something she wasn’t telling him. And try as he might, he couldn’t seem to puzzle out what it could possibly be. 

* * *

He tried to raise her spirits. He took her horseback riding out across their land and packed a picnic for them to enjoy in a sunny patch on the hills. He danced with her in the living room to the rhythm of their old gramophone. He even had Johnny Dogs go into town to pick up her favorite blend of cinnamon and vanilla flavored tea. He spent nearly every minute of every day with her. 

And yet, she still kept looking at him with that nervous, mournful expression. 

At night, he often woke to her whimpering beside him in her sleep. Every time he roused her, she would huddle in his arms, dodging his attempts to coax from her what it was that had her so spooked.

He didn’t understand. They never kept anything from each other. Ever.

Thumbing at his brow, he sighed, gaze fixed on the ceiling. Lily was curled up against him, for once her sleep seemingly undisturbed by nightmares.

But he couldn’t get his mind to stop working. Tumbling over itself with musings as to what could be so wrong that she didn’t want to tell him.

Had her behavior been any different, he would have worried that she didn’t want him anymore. But with how clingy she’d been, he was pretty certain that wasn’t the case. 

With a frustrated huff, he rubbed at his eyes. Careful not to disturb Lily, he slipped from the bed, watching fondly as in his absence she started snuggling his pillow instead. A quick kiss pressed to her auburn hair, and then he was tip-toeing from the bedroom and down towards the kitchen. 

A cup of tea would perhaps do him good. Help settle his nerves. 

He was just removing the whistling kettle from the stove, pouring the steaming water into a chipped mug, when he heard the rapid thuds of her footsteps clattering down the stairs. 

“Tommy? Tommy!?” 

“In here, love,” he called, setting the kettle down. She appeared in the doorway, looking affright. Hair half spilling from the braid she’d pulled it in for bed, cheeks drawn and pale, her eyes wild and terrified. 

She let out a choked off sound of relief when she saw him. In a blink she was across the kitchen, arms thrown around him and face buried in his chest. 

“Lily…” he murmured, stroking her head, hugging her back. Concern twisted in his stomach when he felt warm tears through the cotton material of his shirt. 

It couldn’t be good for her to keep getting this upset. She was going to make herself sick if she carried on like this.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, waiting until she had settled before starting to pry. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” she said into the material of his shirt. “I woke up and you weren’t there and I thought…”

Thought you were dead. 

He took hold of her face, tipping it up to examine her eyes. “Come here,” he decided, taking her hand and leading her to sit at the table in the middle of the room. “Lily…” 

“I know. I’m just being silly. I’m fine…”

“You’re not.” He kept hold of her hand, thumb tracing back and forth across her knuckles. Fixing her sunset brown eyes with an insistent look, he decided that a direct approach was the best method for addressing this. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

She seemed to shrink in on herself. “I don’t know what–”

“Yes, you do.” He leaned in closer. “I know you remember. I can see it in your face.” 

Lily seemed unable to meet his eyes, gaze focused on a spot on the table, faraway and haunted. Reaching out, he delicately brushed a few stray bits of her hair back, letting his fingertips ghost across her cheek. 

“You can tell me, eh?” He gave her a small smile. “Can’t see how it could be worse than Duke shooting me in the heart.” 

“It is.” She finally looked at him, lips trembling slightly. “It is worse.” 

Tommy cocked his head. “Well now I really need to know.” He took care to keep his tone light. Relaxed. Lily’s mouth opened and closed. He gave a small, encouraging squeeze to her hand. “It’s alright.”    

She let out a shaky, defeated breath, seeming to deflate right before his eyes. “The car was coming towards you. And he…he shot you…”

Tommy tightened his grip on her hand at the way her voice trembled on the last two words. “You told me all of that already.”  

But she shook her head. “No. No, but before…before he shot you, I was…I had a shot at him. But…but my aim was off or something and I…I…”

Oh.

Ohh. 

He quickly folded her into his arms. Her breathing was coming in shallow little gasps, hands fisting in the front of his shirt. 

“You had a shot at him and you missed?” he asked. She nodded with a pained little whimper against his throat. 

“It was my fault,” she started to cry. “You were gone. You died and it was all my fault–” 

“Oi, hey, no, no, no,” he drew back to cradle her face, forehead leaning against hers. “It wasn’t. I’m not dead, love. I’m right here. I’m alright.” 

“It felt more real than any dream I’ve ever had, Tommy.”

“But it wasn’t.” 

“What if…what if it was a premonition or something…?”

“You’ve never had a premonition in your entire life, love.”

She reached out, stroking his face delicately. Like she half expected her fingers to pass through him when she touched him. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re really here.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You could be a ghost.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Have you been at the opium stash without me?”

That got the tiniest little exhale of amusement out of her, a little spark reigniting in her eyes. He nudged her, fanning the flames.  

“Hm? C’mon, now. I’m supposed to be the superstitious one of the two of us.”

Her cheeks flushed adorably, lips twitching upwards ever so slightly.

“I’m here,” he said, firmly. “I’m alive. I’m not going anywhere. I promise. Eh?” 

She let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. Taking hold of both of her hands, he guided them to rest on his chest. 

“Feel,” he requested, pressing her palms closer to his skin. Letting her feel the thump of his heartbeat. The rise and fall of his breaths. The warmth of his skin. “I’m not gone. I’m here with you.” Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers. “I’ll always be here with you.” With a hand on the back of her head, he kissed her deeper. Lily leaned into him, her breathing shaky and desperate, mouth parting to his. Hands bunching in the material of his shirt, she pulled it off over his head, palms flattening against the naked skin of his chest as soon as it was off.

Rising from the chair, he scooped her up into his arms, still kissing her as he carried her up the rickety stairs and back to bed.

He made love to her slow and gentle. Bodies pressed together, foreheads touching. Kissing her softly and murmuring words of reassurance every chance he got.   

After, he laid sprawled out on his back, holding Lily tightly against him with her head resting on his chest. Still catching his breath, he stroked his fingers along the soft skin of her back, the chill of sweat cooling against his skin.

Lily made a small sound of contentment, face turning to press kisses along the sunbeams tattooed on his pec. With two fingers he tilted her face to look up at him. 

“Alright?” he asked.

She nodded, eyes blinking all lazy and satisfied. A bloom of cockiness sprouted in his chest at the sight of her so fucked out, the beginnings of a smirk dancing on his lips. 

“If that performance can’t convince you that I’m alive, I don’t know what will.”

She let out a sputtering, surprised laugh. Tommy felt something in him release a deep sigh of relief at the sound. Reaching down, he traced a finger along her cheek, basking in the way her eyes lit up like the sun when she smiled.

There’s my girl. He knew she was still in there, somewhere. 

Head tilting down, he caught her lips with his in a soft kiss. Her small hand cradled the side of his face, thumb stroking against his cheekbone. 

“I love you,” she murmured after they parted. Tommy let his grip on her tighten a fraction. 

“I love you too.” Adjusting them so they were laying more comfortably together, he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Try to get some sleep, love.” Hopefully no nightmares will find you, this time.

She hummed, cheek pillowing over his heart, eyes shining where they stared up at him. He smiled at her reassuringly.  

Her fingers found his, curling tight. “Don’t ever leave me,” she whispered, a quiet plea.

He squeezed her back, firm and definitive. “I’m right here. Nothing will ever take me away from you.”

Declan tightened his grip on my waist as we swayed. “It was so frustrating. And fucking miserable out.”

I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t believe they didn’t cancel the match. I was freezing just watching you on the telly.”

“When I walked down the tunnel, I swear my hands were purple.”

I pulled back, frowning. “Then why didn’t you put on a long sleeve? Or gloves?”

“I didn’t think the pitch would turn into a snow globe,” Declan grumbled.

He rested his head on my shoulder. I checked my exasperation upon realizing how worn out he was. “Are you hungry?”

“Mmm no.” He buried his face in my neck, voice muffled. “We stopped for dinner.”

I carded my fingers through his hair. “How about I run you a bath?”

Declan all but melted in my arms. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” I teased.

Declan started his laundry and then led the way upstairs. He asked about my day, so I brought up work and a call from my mum. In our bathroom, I took stock of the bath salts and oils we had on hand. I stuck my head out the door to ask if Declan wanted to use any and froze mid-sentence.

He was sprawled across our bed in just his boxers, long legs hanging off the edge. He didn’t notice me with his phone held aloft. I took in the curve of his jaw, the expanse of his torso, the way his arms flexed as he shifted them. Liquid heat swept along my hips as I stared at his muscled thighs spread open.

Declan finally looked up. His lips were a tight line, eyebrows furrowed. As he zoned back in, his pinched expression gave way to curiosity. Declan leaned up on his elbows. I saw my unabashed desire mirrored in his gaze. Declan’s eyes dropped, taking in the way I pressed my legs together. A smile slowly spread across his face.

“Baby, c’mere,” he murmured, sitting up all the way. He tossed his phone behind him.

I pushed off the door frame and crossed the room. When I stood over him, Declan tugged my shirt off. I ran my hands up and down his sides. He kissed my sternum then along my collarbones. I tilted his chin up and crushed my lips against his in a rough and thorough kiss.

In the two years we’d been dating, the full force of Declan’s passion and attention still took my breath away. It was so easy to lose myself in him.

I couldn’t help but giggle when his beard tickled my face. Declan smiled against my lips and slid his hands down to tweak my nipples. A curl of heat shot through me.

I knelt between his spread legs. Declan cupped my cheeks. I swiped my tongue along his lower lip, nails gently curling into his thighs. Declan groaned and pulled me closer with his hands on my ass. “Dec, I need you.”

Our breaths mingled in the scant space between us. His fingers skated up my back, warm and grounding. “You have me. What do you want, baby?”

“I want you in my mouth,” I said against his lips.

I toyed with his waistband, fingers grazing his skin. Declan’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. “All right, but no teasing.”

“Not tonight,” I agreed, pecking him on the lips.

I kissed Declan’s heart and down his ribs. My thumbs traced the hickeys I littered along his hipbones. I shot him a wicked smile and leaned down to mouth along his cock. He swore. When I pulled back, Declan lifted his hips, and I helped pull the boxers down his legs.

I shuffled closer and looked up at him from under my eyelashes. Declan swallowed hard and nodded. I leaned forward and pressed sloppy kisses along his length. I stroked him a few times with my hand, slick with spit. Declan gripped the duvet.

I sucked on the head, eager to feel the weight of him on my tongue. I hollowed my cheeks and took as much of his cock in my mouth as I could. Declan’s eyes slid shut, his chest heaving. When I started to bob my head, he threaded his hands through my hair. I swept my tongue along the underside of his cock. He moaned, and I squeezed my thighs together.

“So perfect,” Declan babbled, tracing my stretched lips with his thumb. “Look at you, baby. Taking my cock so well. You love being on your knees, don’t you?”

I pulled back and swirled my tongue around the head. I swallowed his precome as it filled my mouth. Declan’s hand snaked down the front of my shorts. My pants were soaked through.

“What a good girl you are. You’re so wet for me.”

My eyes widened. He gave me a smug smile and pushed my clothes to the floor. Declan slipped his fingers between my folds to rub my clit. I couldn’t help but moan around his cock, and his mouth dropped open at the sensation. He slipped two fingers into my pussy. “You’re my little whore, aren’t you? You love it when I fill you up.”

I pulled off and rasped, “Dec.”

He added another finger. My hips rocked against his hand. The friction of his palm against my clit was so good it made my thighs shake.

I sunk my mouth down on his cock again, and Declan took a shaky breath, hips flexing minutely. His hands came to grip my arms with bruising force. “Fuck—oh my god, baby. Give me a second, and I wanna to eat you out.”

His blue eyes were feverish. I stroked his thighs. Declan looked so beautiful chasing his own pleasure. I worked my mouth quicker, motions a little messier. Declan moaned my name and spilled in my mouth. I swallowed his come.

I sat back on my heels and rested my head against his thigh, breathing hard. He brushed my hair back from my face. When he’d caught his breath, Declan reached down and helped me into his lap. My knees twinged as I rose. He kissed the wince off my face, licking into my mouth. I sank into his embrace, groaning as he squeezed my breasts. Declan placed his hand between my legs, urging me to grind down on his palm.

“You don’t have to,” I said, voice shot.

“Nonsense. It seems like I’m hungry after all.”

I rolled my eyes. Declan chuckled, turning to drop me further up the bed. I laughed when his phone bounced onto the floor. He grabbed a pillow to place under my hips and settled in between my spread legs. Declan trailed kisses up my inner thighs, nipping and sucking bruises into the skin. He held me down when I jumped at the brush of his beard.

I tugged at my hair, feeling warmth bloom in my cheeks. “Dec, I’m so close. It’s not gonna take much to make me come.”

“Just let me enjoy myself,” he teased.

Declan lapped at my pussy, reducing me to a moaning mess. He slid three fingers in me, pumping them in tandem with his tongue. My hands moved to cup the back of his head. I was right on the edge. He looked up at me as he sucked hard on my clit.

Heat sliced through my body. I cried out and clenched around his fingers. My pussy pulsed around Declan’s lips. He didn’t let up until I was boneless against the sheets. I carded my fingers through his hair while I came down from the rush.

“How about that bath?” I asked.

Declan hummed in agreement and kissed my knee.

Twenty minutes later saw me sat in the cradle of Declan’s hips in our clawfoot tub. We’d argued over the temperature of the water until we settled on warm-nearly-hot-territory. I tilted my head back against his shoulder. His chest rumbled as he read aloud from the novel I held up. Declan leaned his temple against my head, hands idly tracing my breasts and stomach.

The warmth was settling into my bones. Declan eventually pried the book from my grasp and set it on the ground. He wrapped his arms around me, keeping me firmly against his chest. I shut my eyes and breathed in the lavender bath oil. We stayed like that for a long time, dangerously close to dozing off.

“Thank you for tonight,” Declan murmured. “You’re so good to me.”

I picked up his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

The water cooled, and our fingertips wrinkled. We climbed out of the tub and got ready for bed in a comfortable silence. There was an ease to Declan’s frame that hadn’t been there when he’d walked through the door. I could tell that this disappointing match was behind him. Tomorrow he’d focus on the next one with a clear head.

In the months following, you and your roommate had taken to the two teammates, especially when you found out they were hopeless when it came to cooking for themselves. Many a time you arrived home to the two men lounging at your bar counter, chirping your roommate as she made dinner. They had even gotten you tickets to a few home games as a thank you, along with jerseys to wear. 

Your roommate chose Josh’s suspiciously fast, but you let it slide as you knew all along whose name you wanted across your back.

Regardless of how close you were, or how good of friends you had become with Pierre, you knew you didn’t stand a chance — not when the few times you went out to the bars together he was immediately swarmed by beautiful girls who gave him all the attention he could drink in. You would gladly perch on your bar stool and watch from afar, even if it felt like someone was sticking pins in your chest. You could play the friend role as long as it meant you could keep him in your life. 

Twisting your key in the lock and stepping into your apartment, you could immediately feel the energy was off. The only light came from above the stove, but you knew your roommate should have been home at this time of night. You took a few tentative steps inside, dodging the pair of men’s tennis shoes near the rug. Hmm...

You went to the kitchen to grab a soda from the fridge when you saw someone’s keys on the counter. Looking closer, you recognized them as Josh’s, with its cheesily endearing photo keychain of his family you had teased him about endlessly. Something wasn’t adding up, but then you heard the noises. 

Muffled moans and giggles echoed from the hallway that led to your and your roommate’s rooms, and immediately the pieces assembled in your brain, sounding the alert that you should not be here and you needed to leave as soon as possible. The last thing you needed on this day (or any day) was to hear your roommate and your friend having sex, so you booked it as quietly as possible to your room, hastily grabbing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, your phone charger, and your book. Then it was right back out the front door and you found yourself standing at Pierre’s door and knocking.

“Hi, I need to come in right now.” Your words tumbled out in a rush, still just a bit traumatized that you had walked in on your roommate and your neighbor getting it on and you wanted to stop thinking about it immediately.

Of course Pierre looked absolutely devastating leaning against the doorframe, even with the bemused expression on his face. “You know you’re welcome anytime, but I’m gonna need an explanation.” 

“I will as soon as I’m in these sweatpants and we have ordered food,” you offered, and his toothy smile invited you inside without another question. 

His apartment was always surprisingly tidy for two men living there, and you dropped your other things on the counter. “How does pizza sound?” Pierre asks, typing into his phone and looking at you. “It’s my cheat day.” He winks and you suddenly feel a bit parched, soda forgotten in your fridge down the hall. 

“Sounds perfect,” you rasp, and collect the articles you brought to change into. Your work clothes were not remotely comfortable, but Pierre’s eyes raked over you as you finally kicked the heels off your feet and you couldn’t help but feel a bit regretful that you were going to look like a bum in a matter of five minutes. 

In the bathroom, however, you ran into a bit of a conundrum. Your sweats and t-shirt were perfectly fine, but you forgot to grab a more comfortable bra. You would rather die than wear your work bra another minute, but you also didn’t want to give this man too much of a show. After some internal debate, you sucked it up and came shuffling back into the kitchen with a plan and your arms crossed.

“Hey Luc, can I borrow a hoodie?” You asked, and he eyed your arms suspiciously, like he knew exactly what you were trying to hide. You shifted uncomfortably as he retreated to his room, and then tried to hide your glee as he handed over your favorite hoodie of his, an old CBJ one he received when he’d first arrived in Columbus. He’d worn it the day you met, and you always had a soft spot for the faded navy and red colors.

You didn’t waste any time before pulling it over your head. It smelled delicious, a mixture of cologne and a scent that was just... Pierre. You buried your nose in it, and said man just smiled gently, coming over to push the hood back from your face. He tugged on the strings playfully and you stuck your tongue out, trying desperately to ignore the way your heartbeat was trying to escape your chest. 

“Alright, spill,” Pierre demanded, tugging you over to the sectional and muting the television, so now a silent coverage of some golf tourney cast colored shadows on your faces. “Not that I don’t enjoy the unexpected visit, but…”

You sighed. “Do you know where Josh is right now?” You questioned, fiddling with the sleeves that dwarfed your hands. Pierre’s eyebrows knit in confusion.

“No...” He said slowly. “He just said he was going out, that was a couple hours ago.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly make it out, because he is at my apartment. With my roommate,” you stated matter-of-factly. It took him a minute before you watched the realization wash over his expression and his cheeks tinged pink. 

“So they’re-” 

“Yep.”

“Right now?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you... heard them?”

“Unfortunately.”

His eyes went comically wide and the two of you sat in a thoughtful silence before bursting in a fit of giggles. Who knew how long the two of them had been sneaking around and now they had absolutely no deniability. Pierre’s large hand came to rest heavily on your leg, and as your laughter died down you couldn’t help but fixate on the warmth on your thigh and the broad forearm leading your gaze up to his smiling face.

“Oh, I can’t wait to tell the boys about this, this is too good,” he smirked, tugging you into his side and grabbing the remote. He changed it to a random cooking show and you allowed yourself to snuggle into him, just this once.

It was a rare luxury to be alone with Pierre. Though you knew the close physical proximity would only lead your heart on, the feel of his body against yours and the safety his arms brought was worth it, even for only a few hours. It didn't take long for your attention to be drawn away from Guy Fieri trying new restaurants and up to his face. His muscles were relaxed, eyes half-lidded, and a lazy grin peeked out as the man on TV said something outrageous. He was so beautiful, and you wished it wouldn't be weird to tell him that. 

Eventually he noticed your gaze and looked down at you, amused. Your cheeks flushed, suddenly too aware of his focus all on you and you had to tear your eyes from his visage back to the television. 

“So while you were in the bathroom I ordered pizza from that place down the block,” Pierre said, breaking the silence. It felt volumes too loud in the quiet, but you hummed in response. “Sausage, bacon and pepperoni with green peppers- that’s your order, right?”

“You nailed it!” you exclaimed, tapping his chest gently and grinning. It meant a ridiculously huge amount that he remembered some silly little detail about you, and you felt like the Grinch with your heart growing like this. “You’re taking care of me better than my roommate ever does.”

“What?!” Pierre almost sounded angry on your behalf in his fake indignation. “What is she doing to you over there, you deserve to be treated like a queen!”

“I don’t know, but not what she’s doing now.”

If there were record scratches in real life and not just on your favorite sitcom, there would have been one echoing through the room as you both froze. Guy just kept going on about some sandwich on the screen, and it was all you could to not slide right off the couch in a gooey puddle of regret. You did not need to discuss your sex life or lack thereof with Pierre. 

Coughing awkwardly you both decidedly kept facing forward at the television, but you were so mortifying your eyes glazed over. You couldn’t help but start overanalyzing the last thirty seconds of conversation: the joy of Pierre remembering your favorite pizza, the flushed secret enjoyment of him saying you deserve the best treatment, the absolute embarrassment of admitting your recent sexual exploits were dryer than the Sahara-

“I still can’t believe those two,” Pierre extrapolated again, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Who knows how long they’ve been fucking without even telling us!” You had never felt more relieved for a change in subject and you were going to cling to it for dear life.

“I know right? They are so sneaky, although knowing you and Josh, he was probably afraid of whatever shitstorm you’re going to start with the rest of the team.” You threw him a knowing look, and to his credit, he had the decency to look bashful. 

“But whatever,” you continued breezily. “At least some of us are getting some.” Again, you didn’t know why your filter was just non-existent this evening. Pierre turned and looked at you, a curiously neutral expression meeting your tomato-red face. 

“Are you telling me you’re not being taken care of like you deserve?” He said, pulling his arm away and turning his large body to completely face you. You were trapped; there was no getting out of this conversation now.

“I mean,” you hemmed and hawed, trying to buy yourself time to avoid looking like more of a lovestruck idiot. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone. While I haven’t really been looking, you start to miss it, you know?” Your sweater paws were suddenly extremely interesting in your lap until Pierre called your name softly. He smiled gently down at you, and you felt so exposed but you couldn’t tear away from his eyes. 

“Can I...can I take care of you? Like you deserve?” He asked, hand weighing your knee down on the couch and you thought you were almost hearing things. “But,” he continued. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I really like you and honestly I was too scared to say anything, but you deserve the best and I want to be the one to give you that.” 

You thought you might float right through the ceiling at his admission. The man of your dreams actually liking you back? Is this an alternate dimension? You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried.

“I mean, you already know my favorite kind of pizza so you’re batting a thousand so far,” you smirked, and a relieved grin to match yours washed across his face. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” His other hand came up to your cheek, and the moment your lips met, it just felt right. It felt like home. As his lips caressed yours, you wander your hands up his toned arms and around his shoulders, tightening as he nibbled along your bottom lip. You always imagined what kissing Pierre would be like, but of course reality is infinity times better. You wanted to forever ingrain the feeling of his large hands at your waist and his stubble brushing across your chin in your mind, to fuel your fantasies for the next year at least.

Pierre suddenly drew you into his lap, a squeak from you followed by a giggle from him interjecting the relative silence. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered again, licking his lips and looking up at you with a fire you had only seen before on the ice. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued.

“How long until the pizza comes?” You half-teased, running your nails through the hairs on the back of his neck. Pierre groaned, but an irresistible smirk cresting on his lips knowing he had you.

“We’ve got plenty of time, don’t you worry.”

Part 1: These Devilish Intentions

They strike a deal on a bridge in the dead of night. It is sealed. It is done. It is everlasting. It is the beginning of something neither of them ever expected to find.

Part 2: Does the Devil Have a Heart

Tommy loved her from the first moment he saw her. Though it would take him a while to actually realize it.

Part 3: Teach Me How

Lily wants Tommy to teach her something.

Part 4: Barren

Lily receives some news.

Part 5: Not Afraid of a Little Blood

When an incident occurs that leaves Lily horribly embarrassed, Tommy has to find a way to reassure her that a bit of blood is of no consequence to him.

Part 6: The Shovels Against the Wall

Tommy isn’t sure if he can forgive himself after a nightmare causes him to lash out with unintended consequences.

Part 7: Stitched into Skin

Tommy wants to get a tattoo of Lily's name.

Part 8: Thunder

Thunderstorms bring bad memories.

Part 9: Bound in Blood

To some, a blood bond is as sacred as marriage.

Part 10: Red Right Hand

Trouble comes to them in the form of a crate of stolen guns, a bloodthirsty inspector, and a blonde barmaid.

Part 11: Don't Look Back

Families are complicated.

Part 12: Bloodied & Broken

An incident at the betting shop nearly costs Tommy far more than just a few shillings.

Part 13: Dance of Darkness

Tommy’s latest plan brings with it many unexpected dangers. Some new, and some from what was thought to be the long forgotten past.

Part 14: Everything

Lily doubts her place in Tommy and Grace’s life in light of some new developments.

Part 15: Accepted

Lily and Grace bond over the knowledge that the Shelby matriarch will never fully accept them.

Part 16: Lady of the Various Sorrows

Lily is finally forced to come clean to Tommy about her inability to have children.

Part 17: Not Yours

John says something regarding Lily's relationship with Charlie that cuts deeply.

Part 18: Moth

Lily has a rather uncommon phobia.

Part 19: In the Bleak Midwinter

A tragedy occurs that threatens to truly break Tommy and Lily beyond repair. With threats coming at them from every direction, they struggle to survive while the agony of loss is still howling in their bones.

Part 20: Smoky Kisses

There's nothing like some smoke in the lungs to make the head spin.

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Mistakes, both those from the past and those still yet to be made, threaten to alter Tommy and Lily's lives forever.

Part 22: This Misery We've Made

Tommy's personal life is starting to cause issues in his ability to rise up in political spaces, forcing him to make a choice that has the potential to fracture his relationship with the woman he loves.

Part 23: No More

Lizzie's announcement at dinner reopens some old wounds.

Part 24: Dirty Little Secret

After so much hardship, Tommy just wants to do something nice for his lover.

Part 25: My Darling One

Tommy overreacts when he learns of the crush his secretary has on his lover.

Part 26: Do You Love Me

They are entangled down to their very souls. So intricately that it is hard to know where one ends and the other begins. Lily has often wondered if either she or Tommy could survive separation. She supposes now she will finally get to find out.

Part 27: Fuss

He always gets so worried every time she gets sick.

Part 28: Still Here

The trauma of almost losing each other is not easily healed.

Part 29: Back From Under the Ground

As their dealings with their enemies reaches new dangerous ground, a blow in their personal life threatens to finally bring Tommy and Lily to their knees.

Part 30: Forever Yours

With the work all done and their wagon burned to ash, maybe there actually can be a bit of peace and happiness for them in this life, after all.

Part 31: Now We Rest

Snapshots of Tommy and Lily's honeymoon in Switzerland.

Part 32: Peace at Last