#I def remember reading this books jaw on the floor like this is allowed????

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Did you like red queen? What are your thoughts on mare and maven? (Both individually and as a ship)

It used to be one of my top ten worst books of all time but then the YA category continued to publish stuff lol. I still wouldn’t say I like it, but it holds up better than a lot of stuff out right now. Like I will give Victoria Aveyard some credit for the first book twist. And generally she made several choices in the series where it felt genuinely shocking considering all the constraints on the age category at the time. It also occupies an interesting space in being one of the earlier entries in the gradual trend shift from dystopia to court fantasy.

But the books are still bad lol. The series was basically a laundry list of all the basic newbie mistakes, and Mare was frankly catastrophically annoying to me.

That being said, Maven is my precious son who has never done a single thing wrong in his life— up to and including killing infants and sending them gift wrapped to Mare.

Anyway the ship is not like… well executed by any means but the core concept is pretty solid. I don’t like care about these characters being together but the basis of jealousy and Maven kind of putting all his baggage wrt Cal, and being the overlooked second son, on Mare at least makes sense. And their scenes were definitely the most entertaining!

[mego42]

I 100% agree about wanting more fanfic lists! I honestly think it's the best way to get a variety. Everybody has personal preferences, if someone, who mostly reads long, fluffy au Brio fic, is making recs, they're not likely to mention short, angsty, canon Brio (which is understandable and fair!) so ideally someone else, who does like those, would also do recs. I'm pretty sure I've read or at least tried the vast majority of Brio fics, but the recs often make me re-read the fic and author.

YAAASSSS!!! I mean like, okay, I v much get why people have issues with rec lists, and I def do not by any stretch endorse the idea that recs/rec lists should be considered anything other than one person sharing a think they liked, but to me a lot of the issues (the same fics/authors getting recced, feeling like awesome fics/authors are going unrecognized) can be solved by more reccing, not less. everyone’s got different taste and different stuff they look/read for and I am extremely pro sharing that.

Idk, I think about it like this: in a previous internet life I was a YA book blogger and I lived and died by recs from other bloggers whose taste and preferences I knew. I mean, you know, I’d check out a book bc the premise sounded interesting but literally the first thing I would do was go to Goodreads and look for a handful of people who tended to like the same books I did and see what they were saying about it bc that was the best way to get a good idea of if I wanted to give it a shot. Or, on the flip side, there were some people whose reviews I followed bc I knew we v much did not read for the same things so if they hated a book for X, Y and Z reasons, I was probs going to like it (one thing about book blogging is if you want to keep current, you do not have a lot of time to mess around, snap judgements are key but that’s a whole other thing and idk if it’s even relevant anymore bc that landscape has changed so much). 

ANYWAY, the point is, I got in the habit and now I do the same thing with fic bc, tbh, I don’t have a ton of time to read, esp not when I’m actively writing which, with the exception of the last week or two, I’ve been doing p non-stop since I got here. All of which to say is, I am desperately in favor of fic recs for purely selfish reasons, I need them! Give them to me!!! Please!!!!!

That said, I uh, am v bad at returning the favor and I recognize that (I think I’ve made what? two rec lists for this fandom?) so I will try to do better to live by my own, idek what this is, moving on and here are 10 recs not really thematically linked by anything other than I’ve read them and loved them and don’t think I’ve put any of them on one of my rec lists yet (and if I have, my blog is a trainwreck I cannot be expected to remember what’s on it LET ME LIVE):

The Goodest Boy by EnsignDisaster

There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.

“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”

“Nah he’s good we took him out.”

Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.

Buddy! The! Dog! POV! no further explanation necessary. Technically WIP, but it covers the whole pilot in a way that could be read as standalone (THOUGH THAT WOULD V MUCH GIVE ME A SAD though, when did the show forget the Bolands had a dog? so maybe that’s a tragic casualty of canon, idk)

May The Moon’s Silvery Beams by @pynkhues

Emma hums in agreement, and Rio turns her around to sit her on the counter, grabbing one of the older looking boxes of muesli while she kicks her legs out, heels bumping back against the counter, watching him. He gropes around the inside of the box, finally just opting to pull the plastic cereal bag out and peering inside. He can’t quite keep the grin off his face when he sees the wad of cash lining the bottom. This woman kills him, she really does.

Then there’s a little face peering up beside him, trying to peek into the box.

“What is it?” she asks, and he tilts the box sideways so she can see inside.

The upside to not getting here until s3 is that old fic is new to me! Huzzah!! Idk how many of y’all have already read this on but if you haven’t I highkey recommend. Extremely cute take on what if Emma woke up when Rio and came by to collect his/Beth’s/whoever's money during the shutdown. Cannot believe I’m reccing kidfic. Witchcraft!!!!!!

Maybe You’re My Fantasy by ohmisterjapan

He fucking loves the involuntary. It speaks to how he likes to unlock chaos and walk away. He's been called a control freak before and it felt like such a misunderstanding of him - he's all about self control but he doesn't want to control others. It's more that he enjoys revealing to them how little they can control themselves. It's more that he likes to stand still in the eye of someone else's storm and pick coldly through the wreckage.

Another oldie but a goodie. This fic is more like an extended character study (first chapter Rio POV, second chapter Beth) and I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF SHIT. I really really really love the take on both characters, it really digs in and pulls out some nuances that made me sit and think about my own read of them and I love it.

A Shock Of Blue by mintletters16

“You don’t look very well. Would you… like me to get you a glass of water or something?”

Her voice is low but smooth, laced with a softness that cuts straight though to his core. Strawberry blonde locks fall gently just above the pair of magnets freezing him in place.

He can still feel the chaos tearing through his veins - emanating from the gold plated gun stuffed in his waistband - and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t meet this wide-eyed gaze that’s been locked on his for the past God-knows-how-long anymore.

Can’t see blue alive and concerned when he just left it cold and void somewhere in oblivion.

She’s looking at him like he’s on the brink of madness. He thinks maybe he is.

Apparently, it’s backlist rec day over here and I’m not sorry. This one is another technical WIP but the chapter works as a standalone (BUT if the author decided to return to it I WOULD NOT BE MAD). It’s a what if Beth and Rio met pre-canon and it works so!!! well!!!! The tension and fascination and build are all *chef’s kiss* plus the writing is gorgeous and lyrical and ugh, I love it.

for a moment we were strangers by openhearts

“We got stuff,” Rio motions with a nod to the backpack Beth hadn’t noticed when they arrived hanging on the back of one of the chairs at the island.

She swallows and turns back to the dishes, realizing Rio apparently means to sleep there , assuming the place isn’t bugged.  Or for some kind of cover story if it is.  She turns and fixes Rio with a narrow-eyed stare, studying his face, the corner of his jaw especially prominent from the angle she’s looking up at him.  He’s methodical about drying each dish and setting it back on the rack, maddeningly ignoring her hard stare, so when he goes to take the next plate from her hands she grips it tightly and gets his attention.

“Hey.”

“What you on about now?” he asks, irritated.

It gets her gut uneasy, how he’s just . . . there, settling in, in ways he never had before, no matter how nonchalantly he would let himself in through her locked doors.  

“This is,” Beth tries, failing, to find words for it, “. . . it’s weird .”

This one takes place post 204 and Rio and Marcus end up spending a long weekend staying with Beth and Emma for reasons (that work, for the record, I’m just not trying to summarize rn) and it’s domestic and cute but honestly my fav part of it is how weirded out Beth is by how easily they slip into sync. The story does an excellent job balancing where they are in canon (uneasy post-sex truce) with a snapshot of what they could be if they got over themselves (HA! as if) and Beth is DEEPLY FREAKED which makes her slow slide into realizing she could maybe sort of kind of oh shit like it/him??? that much more satisfying.

Not So Careful by @bensonstablers

When he doesn’t answer, her eyes go to his but he’s too busy watching the letter opener which is still pressed against the back of his hand. Curiously, Beth runs it up his arm, careful not to press too hard, and smiles a little as he shivers. Pulling her leg up onto the bed, she shuffles closer to him before pressing the tip of the sword to his chest and slowly circling his left nipple with it, being sure not to get too close.

“You ain’t gotta be that careful.”

And when she lifts her eyes to meet his, he’s got that look. The one that always makes a lump form in her throat and for her to fall back into bed with him without a single thought of what they have to do that day. Only thing is, this time they’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the weekend and well, staying in bed the entire time had seemed like an appealing idea so she allows herself to give in a little to that look.

It makes me EXTREMELY SAD that knifeplay ranked so low on the kink survey so I’m gonna need y’all to check out this V V V EXCELLENT example of it and come back and tell me you’re sorry and you voted wrong. I am v reasonable what are you talking about.

love (where it wasn’t supposed to be) by @lilliloves

"You know what I can't stand?" Rio asks, stepping closer. It's a rhetorical question but he pauses for a second and watches Dean sniff, watches a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, watches him shift on both his feet as he contemplates making a run for it.

"A guy who don’t realize how good he's got it." Rio continues, looking Dean up and down in disgust. "A guy that will literally fuck up a good thing just to get his dick wet."

"Yeah, well I can't stand a guy who can have anyone he wants but chooses the married woman he's not entitled to.” Dean shoots back. "And I really can't stand the fact that you're always in the room with us even when you aren't there."

And who brings him into the room Dean hmmmmm????? Jk, jk (or am I). In this one Rio catches Dean out on the town with another woman (bc of course he is) and tries to call him out but whoops! gets called out himself. I really love the like, idk, undercurrent of wistful regret in this fic. I love Dean straight up calling Rio out on his feelings (spoilers but there’s an exchange right after this one that made me straight up holler), and, you know, obvs I am here for Rio making Dean feel like an ass. 

Hell Is Other People by makemanybraver

Rio: We're in Hell, Elizabeth! If you don't think you belong here, then repent! Don't fuck everyone in the room in hopes that you get to go out!

Beth: Why do I have to repent?!

Rio: Because you did some fucked up shit in your life, Elizabeth! You keep doing fucked up shit here, too! And you think you don't belong here!

Beth [screaming at the top of her lungs]: Because I don't!

This fic is existentially bonkers and I love it. It’s the kind of experimental format/homage/what have you kind of thing that I L O V E. Based on No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre, Beth, Rio, and Fitzpatrick are stuck together in a room in hell for all eternity. What more do you need, honestly.

Working On Things by odenkirk

Unknown Hold up, Elizabeth. I'm really thinkin about you here.

Beth turned her face into the pillow, effectively suffocating herself for a moment, but thinking it was a good trade off for the way the cool silk of her pillowcase chilled her skin.

She lifted her head to glance at the still sleeping Dean before replying.

Beth I'm thinking about you too. But this can't happen.

She wanted him to know she wanted him, but she also thought that admitting she was already there would save Rio from trying to convince her. She wanted him, but morals had to win just once in a while.

YES this is technically Beth/Dean while also being Beth/Rio BUT it’s also sort of Rio/Dean and I am HERE FOR THE DIVERSITY OF SHIPPING leave me alone who asked you.

Five Times He Knew What She Was Thinking, and One Time He Didn't by JoeyLee

Aight, so tell ‘em I was hittin’ it. Said deliberately blunt, eyes locked on her face the whole time, just to see those blue eyes widen. She looked so shocked that he almost laughed, so he softened it teasingly just to keep her going. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, tell ‘em we were makin’ love.

Then he just watched her, just watched her face, just fucking fascinated. Her lips were parted and her eyes were big as saucers, and…there it was. Before she could look away flustered, he watched the thought go through her mind. Him and her together.

He wondered what she was picturing or where. Them in the back seat, her bed, a motel?  Her on top or him from behind or his face between her legs?

Whatever it was, the blush started immediately, and he watched it bloom out from her cheeks to her hair. Then she was tearing her eyes away to gulp a little.  But it didn’t knock her down for long before she was looking back. And then, wait, was she actually asking him how to go about telling a fed they were fucking?

Okay this is another technical WIP but works as a standalone. I am absolutely fucking feral for character POV takes of canon scenes and this is a supremely excellent take on Rio POV of some notable scenes from the pilot through 204. Imo it brilliantly captures Rio’s voice and I love it a lot. 

HEADS UP I am absolute shite at tracking ao3 to tumblr unless people have specifically told me someone’s ao3/tumblr name SO if you recognize any of the non-tumblr authors on please lmk so I can tag them and YES I recognize that I am asking y’all to do things for me throughout this entire post and I’M SORRY OKAY I’M A WHOLE ASS MESS LOVE YOU BYE

[hardyimagines]

Nerve

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Helloo can I request an Alfie proposing fic?! Maybe he realises he doesn't wanna do life without the reader so he decides to make it permanent, maybe he's nervous that she'll say no because he's old. Idk write it however you want I'd just love to read it! P.s please defs put Cyril in it 😂 thanks love x — ?

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“It’s a sexy language.” You muttered, sprawled out on the torn cushion. There was a gaping hole in the center beside your head from where Cyril had absolutely mauled the furniture. He was trying to hide the bone his father had given him two nights ago and instead of tucking the treat away beneath the couch, he decided to just bury it inside. “Pet, it’s not sexy.” Alfie grunted, shifting on the arm chair to the left of you. The wooden legs creaked quietly, showing just how old the furniture was. “Fucking boring it is, you’ve-“ You sat up quickly at his words, turning fully to face him. You knelt up on the cushion, small fingers sinking into the arm of the couch. You cut him off. “You only think it’s boring because you understand it.” You muttered before rolling your eyes. Alfie adjusted the ring on his left hand, eyes unmoving from the wide silver that curled around his middle finger. He didn’t direct his blue orbs toward you until you spoke up, effectively silencing him, he squinted. “Right, well, there’s where we fucking disagree then, yeah. You don’t speak it, that’s why you’re fucking-.” “Well, you don’t speak it either.” You cut him off again. Alfie growled loudly, his cheeks reddening slightly from the irritation at his inability to finish a single sentence. “Right, what are you playing at, girl?” Slamming the red-colored book shut that resided on his lap, it briefly settled on his knee before he tossed the hardcover on to the glass surface of the coffee table and slunk forward. His forearms pressed to his knees and he directed a pointed finger toward you. “Are you tryna piss me off, lass? I think you fucking are. I haven’t been able to finish a single fucking sentence Y/N.” You smirked to yourself before giving him the most innocent look you could muster. “No.” You pouted. “I’m sorry, Alfie.” His eyes flashed visibly with a look of apology for his shouting before he shrank back, getting comfy once more. “Don’t apologize.” He muttered as his back sunk further into the soft cushion as he fixated his curious orbs on the window.

The rain had been relentlessly pouring for hours, soaking anyone who dared set foot outside for even a second. The water droplets raced along the glass, fogging it slightly. He wasn’t pulled from the scene until your quiet voice filled the room again. “Alfie?” He looked toward you. “I do speak it, by the way. Not fluently, right, it’s difficult for me to remember all them Russian words, yeah, but I do know them.” You lifted a brow as he drew the previous topic back up. “Oh, you do?” This time, you revealed your smirk to him. “Well let’s hear something then.” You rose from your position on the sofa and sauntered toward him. His legs were spread, eyes lifting to yours as you approached him. “I don’t know what to say, pet.” He grumbled, shuffling his boots against the recently swept floorboards. “Oh, come on, Alfie, don’t be like that.” Your smirk fell. “I wanna hear!” Your small hands met your waist, gripping it gently as you stood right in front of his opened knees. “Right, what’s wrong with my English?” He slouched, head tipping back to rest against the chair. “It’s not sexy enough for you?” A breathy sigh escaped you. “Your voice is sexy in general, Alfie.” You laid your hands on his arms before placing your knee beside his hip. Lowering yourself down and on to his lap, you shifted repeatedly to get comfy, though it was just causing repeated pressure to his groin so he let out a soft grunt followed by a low mumble of warning for you to be still, so you did. “How’s my voice attractive? It’s just a deep fucking sound.” You smiled lazily before wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him in close to you. “Mh, but it sounds awfully good when it goes all husky and you’re turned on.” The man lifted his brows simultaneously. “You, yeah, you are the horniest girl I’ve ever fucking met, you know that?” You scoffed at his accusation. “Sorry, how does that make me horny! I was only talking about your voice.” Shrinking back a little more so you could see his face fully, amusement danced in both of your gazes before you both leaned in for a soft and slow kiss. Alfie wasn’t finished messing with you though. “Sex is always on your mind.” He sighed against your lips when you began to part. “It’s so unhealthy.” He continued. Your mouth opened wide, staring down at him with a glare now. You knew he was playing around and you loved every second of it. “I’m not the one who comes home from work, begging for oral. You’re the horny one, I’m just the occasional-.” You rose up from his lap, but he pulled you back down instantly, cutting you off as he’d done to you. “That was one time.” He pointed out, matter of factly. “One time, a hundred times, it doesn’t matter, point is it happened.” You wiggled your brows before rising again, continuing to talk. “I’m talking about your voice and you moved the topic to sex.”

This time you made it off of his lap, but when you made your way out of the room and toward the kitchen to get a snack, you could hear the pop of his knees and then the sound of his boots thudding along the floor as he followed. “Pet.” He growled lowly. “There’s a huge difference! If I asked all the time, your jaw would be fucking useless, wouldn’t it?” You smirked widely as you drew open a drawer. Pulling out a silver spoon to use for whatever you decided to eat, you halted, turning to face him. “Hang on, how do you know a woman’s jaw is sore afterward?” You sent him an accusing look of surprise. “Oh, Alfie. Have you sucked a-“ The man stepped forward, loud boots thudding harsher against the floor. “No!” He barked. “I’m a bit too busy with you, aren’t I? I think I give you the royal treatment much more than you give me.” He grunted before watching you intently as you turned away. That damned smirk was still on your face. “You’re a hungry man.” You pointed out before stepping around him to retrieve the bread from another cabinet. Alfie scratched the back of his neck. He really wasn’t complaining. He loved giving, and receiving.

The cupboard slammed shut audibly behind you as you traipsed along the floor and toward the drawer to get a plate. Laying the bread out on the dish so you could make a sandwich, you hummed softly, eyes briefly dropping to the floor as you heard Alfie stepping up behind you. Pretending to be oblivious, you began to sway lazily, singing a quiet tune as you smothered the bread with some grape-flavored jam. Alfie hovered behind you, his chest mere centimeters away. “Speaking of hungry,” you glanced over your shoulder, noting the hunger that now decorated his features, though it wasn’t food he craved. You’d gone and done it now. Lifting your brows, you slowly turned around to face him. “Do you want a sandwich?” You really tried not to push him any further. You were still recovering from the sex the pair of you had just had thirty minutes prior to this little game you’d been playing. “Alfie.” Your hand pressed to his chest firmer, halting him as he attempted to move further forward. “Honey, I’m still a little sore.” That was not the reason you didn’t want to do it again. You’d gone one afternoon of never-ending love making and you knew the second you said that, Alfie would be questioning you. “Sore?” He pried. “What do you mean sore?” You licked your lips. “Not sore, honey, but my legs, they feel like jello.” Smiling shyly as you turned away from him to continue making your sandwich, you could feel his hot gaze, burning every inch of your skin that it ran across. “I can be gentle this time?” He offered. You smiled slowly before turning around to face him once more. “After I eat my sandwich, okay?”

You’d never seen a man look so much like an excited child, but Alfie was beaming from your words. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before you noticed him look toward your sandwich. “Go sit down and I’ll make you one.” You instructed, finally, turning again, to finish the first sandwich. This ten second job was turning into a ten minute one. Closing the bread, you licked your lips before moving to the table. Settling the glass down on the surface, it created a soft clink before you stepped away to make yourself one. “I could’ve waited, pet , I didn’t need the first one.” He grumbled, eyeing you as you moved around. “It’s alright.” You giggled quietly. “Just eat your sandwich.” Alfie obliged the second you told him it was okay. Practically devouring the food, his eyes were unmoving from the little sway of your hips. Your movements were innocent and you were simply dancing to the tune in your head, but your actions seemed to drag Alfie away from the present and to a long while ago when he’d met you.

—————

It was winter, two years ago. The sun had set a little while earlier and every club in town was coming to life at this time. Alfie had many many options on which one to attend, but he found himself lured toward the most vibrant one. Ollie tagged alongside him, twisting an unlit cigarette between two of his fingers as they moved in time with one another. The door to the club was slung open and held that way with a large rock. The music was loud, deafening almost, and the second the pair stepped into the building, more or less just for a drink, Alfie had locked eyes with you. You were stood beside the bar, clad in an outfit that resembled lingerie. Every other woman in the club, who worked there, wore the same thing. Most materials were solid black or white, he noticed some pinks and one blue, but yours was ivory and violet, lined with beautiful lace. Your hair was pinned but you allowed some loose curls to stray free from their updo. He briefly ogled the fishnets that embraced your thighs and then your boots, entirely too tall for anyone to walk in. But you managed, and you managed well. He’d requested you to be the waitress for Ollie and himself when the manager had passed by and since the club owner knew exactly who Alfie Solomons was, he wasted no time before assigning you to the man’s table. You’d been confused since your tables were on the opposite side of the room, but now, the most important job you had was to take care of the man with the beard and the lad beside him. You crossed the room with a tray in hand, two drinks propped up neatly on top. “Hi, welcome to Bliss.” You smiled. “I’m Y/N.” Though you were addressing both of them, you couldn’t help but stare down at Alfie. He was very handsome and although the boy beside him was probably closer to your age and a more suitable gent for you to be flirting with, Alfie looked more your type. “Alfie.” He spoke up gruffly. “This here’s Ollie.” He ushered to the boy beside him with his curled pinky. You briefly eyed the seemingly permanent broken finger before directing your gaze back to the man. “What’ll you be drinking?” You asked before lowering the tray and setting two waters on the tabletop. Ollie licked his lips before requesting some rum and Alfie shook his head lightly to your words. “Water’s fine, pet, thank you.” He shrank back. You studied him briefly before turning to retrieve some rum. You could feel the man’s eyes, locked on to your retreating form.

Alfie looked to Ollie with a light hum. “She’s pretty, yeah?” Ollie arched a brow. “I wasn’t really looking.” The boy spoke quietly before looking toward his boss. “Quit staring. You’ll make her uncomfortable.” The lad pointed out before looking toward you briefly. “Nah, she, yeah, she knows what she’s doing, lad. Keeping her back toward us. She’s not fucking doing nothing.” He ushered toward the bar. “They’ve probably got six bottles of rum opened back there, yeah, it’s a frequently ordered drink. Yet, she,” He watched you, tipping his head down slightly. “She’s opening a new bottle, mate, she’s putting on a little show.” Alfie sat back, eyes roaming your form briefly before he looked toward Ollie when he spoke again. “And is that bad? She could just be doing it for a tip.” Alfie cocked a brow. “And if she fucking is? I’ll be tipping big.” The smile on Alfie’s lips told Ollie all he needed to know. Just because he found you pretty, didn’t mean he was interested in you. Well, maybe in your body, but not in you. Ollie heaved a quiet sigh before watching alongside Alfie, but his boss hit the table lightly. “You watch someone else, yeah, don’t be sending her mixed signals. You don’t know how to fucking flirt with your eyes, now,” He pointed toward a blonde who was within perfect range of Ollie. “Go talk to her, yeah, leave me alone with this one.” Ollie shifted slowly. “I’m not a flirt, Alfie.”

The boy didn’t have time to say much else before you approached again. Setting the freshly opened bottle of rum down on the table, you poured him a glass, up to the brim, before sliding it across the table toward Ollie. “There you go.” He barely caught it. “And you,” you fixated Alfie with a curious look. “You’re sure you don’t want anything else besides water?” Your lashes, coated with a thin, but noticeable, layer of mascara fluttered before you laid your hand on the back of his chair. Flirting was what got you money around here and flirting was easy to do. Especially with a handsome man. Your fingertips grazed his shoulder and Alfie could hardly restrain himself from yanking you down on his lap. He wasn’t use to the little teasing and flirty touches. He was use to communication and then fucking. Straight to the point. You watched the way he lifted his glass to his lips before you directed your attention to Ollie. “Well then, I’ll be on my way.” Ollie’s eyes widened. “Hang on, Miss, my boss, he thinks you’re a looker.” Alfie had never been so embarrassed so quickly. His features, though composed and calm, tinted a dark shade of red. You, pretending to be oblivious to his shyness, tilted your head to the side before licking your lips. “Well tell your boss I said thank you.” You told Ollie though Alfie could hear you very clearly. “I think he’s very handsome.” Smiling kindly, you took a small step back before tearing your eyes away from the boy to the man. He was rubbing his teeth together. “If you need anything, I’ll be at the bar.”

The second you retreated, Alfie leant over the table toward Ollie. “I should put my whole fucking fist down your fucking throat, Ollie. Why the fuck, yeah, did you go and say that!” The boy, oblivious to the inner turmoil he’d caused Alfie, shifted with a flush. “I-I thought you were too nervous to say anything!” Alfie growled, hands curling as they rested atop the table. “Mate, that’s why you flirt with your eyes! She would’ve been looking over here all night, wondering what the fuck I think about her if you hadn’t gone and-“ he lifted his eyes away from Ollie when he noticed you approaching again. The man licked his lips before staring at the boy in warning. “Shut it.” He whispered before looking to you as you halted at his side. “Right, well, I thought I’d just come over and ask if you wanted to dance.” Your cheeks were red from shyness but you wore it like blush you’d purposefully dabbed on your cheeks. Alfie stared up at you, dumbfounded. No woman had ever had the guts to flirt with him in this way. This was brave. The man shifted slowly. “I’m not a dancer, pet.” Ollie kicked Alfie harshly beneath the table, receiving another warning look. “My- fucking hell! Ollie, get, go on somewhere else while I talk to the lass, yeah?” Your small hand moved to the man’s arm. Ollie grit his teeth before slowly rising. Alfie did not know how to flirt. He lifted his glass of rum before shyly slipping through the crowd and, accidentally, toward the blonde.

Alfie watched the boy run into the girl, splashing his alcohol along the front of her body. It was still loud, raging, booming, nobody stopped to help her. Nobody apart from Ollie. Alfie tore his eyes away from the scene to instead look back to you. “Right, what I was saying, yeah, before the boy decided to go and kick me, is that I don’t fucking dance. I’m no good at it, yeah, but you,” He eyed you. “Look like you know what you’re doing, right, so if you lead and don’t let me make a complete fool of myself, I will.” Your small hands slid along the lingerie you wore before you leaned in and cautiously took his hand. He seemed like he had a temper and you didn’t usually mess with men like that. But he was attractive and you felt daring. “Come on then.” You urged. His hip bumped the table lightly as he stood, nearly knocking over the bottle of rum, but you smoothly caught it, small hand moving away from his hand and instead to his forearm. Leading him backwards, along with you, you noted how tall he was. The dancefloor was slammed. People were jumping, bouncing, dancing hideously along to the music and although it wasn’t a slow song, the pair of you slow danced. Your body wrapped slowly around Alfie’s and he welcomed the touch. No woman had ever been so willing to push herself into his arms and when you did, he wasted no time before locking his arms around you as best as he could. The height difference made it a bit harder, but the pair of you managed. “I’ve never seen you here before.” You had to speak against his ear otherwise your words would’ve been swallowed by the music. Alfie smiled lazily, hands remaining on the middle of your back. “Was just coming by to check it out and you caught my eye the second I came in.” You pulled back slightly, small hands tracing his large shoulders. “Is that why you forced me to be your waitress?” You smiled lazily as he blushed once more. “You weren’t meant to be told. I thought they just told you to switch tables because you were short on staff-“ you laughed breathily, head shaking. “No, Mr. Solomons, they told me you insisted on having me as your waitress.” Alfie grunted, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “Well, that’s fucking embarrassing, innit?” You shook your head. “It’s awfully flattering, you shouldn’t be embarrassed.” The man closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down before he looked back to you. “Alfie? Alfie?”

—————

“Alfie?” He was pulled from the memory. You stood, one hand on your hip and the other on the table beside his empty dish. Studying him as he finally seemed to realize where he was and that you were talking to him, you frowned. “Are you alright?” Lifting your hand to the back of his head, your fingers slid through his hair, caressing the lengthy locks. Your sandwich was nothing but crust now, which meant whatever you’d been saying while Alfie was lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard. He looked at you intently, watching the way you stared at him with the same doe-eyed, adoring, head over heels in love look you’d been staring at him with for the past 768 days. Your love for him hadn’t, faltered. If anything, it had grown. Your hand continued to brush through his locks, studying his expression curiously before you smiled. He was still thinking about something. “Alright, when you decide to re-join me, let me know.” Leaning down, you placed your dish on the floor. “Cyril!” You called out softly, ears twitching as the sound of the mastiff racing down the steps filled the house. You’d just straightened up when Alfie caught you off guard, arm slipping around your hips to tug you into him. Gasping loudly, your small hands gripped on to his arms, trying to ensure you didn’t fall over as he dipped you. Giggling loudly as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your own, your small arm hooked around his neck, kissing him back with an eagerness you didn’t know you possessed. You whimpered softly into his mouth, laughter subsiding so you could focus on the kiss.

Cyril slipped past the both of you so he could gobble down the crust that was left for him, but he had to maneuver himself between your legs in order to get to the dish. His chomping was the only other noise in the house, apart from your lips smacking gently against Alfie’s. The man drew back, situating you in an upright position before he smoothed down his shirt. “What was that for?” You laughed happily, licking your lips to savor the feeling of his scratchy mouth on your own. Your eyes were droopy and your heart was beating loudly against your rib cage. “Just because I love you.” He lifted his plate and then leaned over to retrieve the one Cyril had licked clean. Approaching the sink, he washed each one thoroughly, ignoring your stare. He knew how much you cherished it when he told you he loved you. It was a daily thing, always said between the two of you, but because it wasn’t said in a quick, careless manner, you knew he really meant it. Usually, he took the time to kiss you or hug you as he told you. He was a very passionate man and you loved that you had him all to yourself. You moved up behind him so you could wound your small arms around his waist, mouth pressing against his clothed back. “I love you too.” You hummed breathily.

“Alright, I’m going to have a quick bath.” You spoke softly before looking up at him as he craned his neck. He hadnt forgot about the sex he’d just been so eager to have, prior to the memory, but now, he just wanted to think on his thoughts for a bit. “Okay.” He smiled softly. You squinted. What the hell was he thinking about? You leant up on your toes and pressed your lips against his own. Kissing him sweetly, your hands fell away from his body before you moved out of the room and up the stairs to the bathroom. Alfie tipped his head south, staring down at his boots before he looked to Cyril who sat, tail wagging happily. “What am I gonna do, mh?” Alfie sunk his hand into his pocket, finger tracing the ring he carried at all times of the day. His pinky curled around the diamond, eyes closing. He knew you’d say yes. The pair of you had talked about being together for eternity, so he knew, for a fact, you’d say yes. But he still felt pressured to make the proposal perfect. He felt pressured to make it romantic, to make it special. He knew you weren’t picky. You’d settle for anything, even if he just barged into the bathroom and asked the question without the ring. You’d cry. He knew that. Cry tears of happiness even if he had no ring to present to you. He’d listened to the wishes you had when it came to a wedding over the last several months of being together and he’d make sure to fulfill every single dream you had. “Fuck me.” He sighed before settling down on a nearby chair. What if you’d changed your mind though? Marriage had been discussed many times a while back but now the two of you didn’t talk about it much. Did you think he didn’t want you? Did you no longer want him? His head fell to his hand, breaths heavy. He was overthinking. “Right, come here, boy.” Cyril tilted his head to the side before moving toward his owner. “You’re gonna help me, yeah.”

—————

The water had decreased from its scalding temperature to a more barable one. Your skin was burned red, but you knew the color would fade in a while. Your feet bounced lazily against the rim of the tub, fingers tracing the chain that hung around your neck as you sat in the silence. Life was so good. Your boyfriend had changed your life for the better and you were eternally grateful. At one point, he’d just been a customer, the gangster that never stopped coming around to see you. You’d offer him some liquor, he’d turn it down. You’d offer him a dance, he’d stand instantly. He had always stayed till closing, dancing with you long after the music had stopped playing. Girls headed home as their shifts came to an end and you found yourself always offering to lock up because Alfie was always there, waiting to walk you home. He’d helped you clean up a few times, had even swept the sticky, food-covered wood floor, which was quite the sight. You could still remember the first time he’d kissed you. He’d been coming to the club for a month before he’d worked up the courage.

—————

You were stood by the bar, eyes rolling playfully as Alfie babbled on about how booming his business was. You cradled a dirty cloth in your hand, breaths soft as his loud voice drowned out the silence. Finishing up cleaning the countertop, you stepped down and on to the man floor before moving toward him. “It’s enjoyable? Being a gangster?” You asked him softly, hip brushing his lightly as you leaned over the table he was cleaning to retrieve empty beer bottles that were left behind. “Mh, it’s stressful, but enjoyable.” He smiled, ocean-colored eyes falling on the shimmering depth of your own. “Everything in life is stressful.” You broke eye contact to move around him and tuck the bottles away in the basin. His eyes followed. “Not everything.” He pointed out. You, curious to know what he could find that wouldn’t be stressful, turned to face him. The pair of you were at least four feet apart. You folded your arms and sent him a challenging look. “Okay, name something that isn’t stressful.” Alfie straightened before briefly directing his eyes to the ceiling, thinking. “Music?” He offered. “That’s an opinion.” You pointed out. “Some people don’t like certain sounds and that can irritate them.” The man grunted before squinting. “Food?” He chuckled. You shook your head. “Food makes me think of weight. Next.” Alfie scratched the back of his head. “Kissing.” He’d said it so seriously, your ears twitched from the sound. “Are you kidding?” Pushing yourself off of the wall, you moved toward him to grasp the rag from his hand and continue with the cleaning. “It is stressful. You’ve got to think about what kind of kiss your partners going to do, how long, are you good enough.” You tugged on the rag gently again, but he didn’t release it.

“Kissing isn’t meant to be stressful, pet. What the hell are you on about, right, you’ve been kissing the wrong people, a kiss is natural, you just, yeah, fucking go with the flow.” You laid a hand on your hip, tugging once more on the rag, but he tugged harder and you, not expecting it, stumbled forward and toward him. Frowning at his little game, you pushed him. “I’ve had enjoyable kisses, Alfie, I’m just saying, the moment leading up to them is very stressful.” Alfie arched a brow. Staring down at you, he licked his lips slowly before smirking. “You seem stressed.” He pointed out. “Is that because you’re thinking of kissing me?” He took a small step toward you and you fixed him with a look of surprise. “Oh god, Alfie.” The stress you’d felt seemed to double up and fade simultaneously. You weren’t sure how to feel. Was he about to kiss you? Right now? He wanted to obviously? Didn’t he? He brought it up. You backed up slightly, but when your leg hit the back of a chair and you nearly fell over, he caught you smoothly. His large hand slid to your lower back and he’d pulled you into him, breaths soft. “Do you want me to kiss you?” He’d asked and you’d froze. How was this not stressful! You swallowed quietly, ignoring the burn in your chest. Yes. You did. You very much did want him to kiss you. “Do you want to kiss me?” You turned the situation around so the decision was up to him. He’d answered by doing just that. Closing the space between the pair of you, he had to lean down and you leaned up on your tiptoes. Well. Maybe the actual kiss wasn’t that stressful. Or maybe Alfie was just an amazing kisser and you couldn’t focus on anything apart from that. Your small hand held the back of his neck, clutching on to him securely as your mouth moved shyly and curiously against his own. Alfie’s hands were gliding along your body and when they’d fallen to your ass, you’d jerked back in surprise, a deep blush on your cheeks. He went to pull them away, mouth opening to apologize, but you’d resumed the kiss and reached back to hold his hands in place. What the fuck was this man doing to you? He lifted you up and on to one of the tables that hadn’t been cleaned yet. Your legs parted widely, letting him step between your thighs so he could get as close as physically possible.

—————

The door to the bathroom opened with a click and you sat up hurriedly. Your breaths were shallow and heavy, hand sliding along the side of your neck shyly. The color on your chest matched the color in your cheeks and you felt guilty for some reason, like you’d been caught thinking of some filthy scenario, but you’d simiply been caught, by Cyril, thinking of Alfie. “Scared the shit out of me.” You moaned softly to the animal, not looking toward him more than the one time. “Where’s Alfie, mh? Go on, go get him.” Cyril sat down beside the tub, staring at you, though you still didn’t look toward him. You were busying yourself with washing up. “Go get daddy, Cyril.” You finally lifted your gaze. The pup sat, tongue hanging out of his mouth and one paw resting on the side of the tub. Clinging to his collar, was a chain. Alfie had looped an old unused chain through a loop in the pup’s collar and on the chain, attached, was a beautiful diamond ring. Your wet hand lifted, moving to grasp ahold of the beautiful jewelry. You cupped it as it dangled, studying it in question. “Oh my god.” You whispered breathily, scrutinizing the diamond. This was far too expensive. Was Alfie kidding? You would’ve like to think the diamond was fake, but Alfie had a knack when it came to jewels and this one was definitely real. “Fuck me.” You sighed before slowly unwounding the chain from the dog so you could inspect the ring more closely. Rising from the bath only seconds later, you climbed out, body soaking wet. “Alfie!” You shouted, not bothering to grab a towel or anything. The water droplets raced along your skin, sliding along the length of your form without a care in the world. “Alfie Solomons!” Cyril barked, following along close behind. You were careful not to slip on the stairs as you climbed down them almost angrily. “Alfie!” You tried again.

In the living room, Alfie was sat on the armchair, newspaper clutched in his hands as he pretended to be very invested in the stories. His eyes didn’t lift when he heard you calling his name, he instead continued to ‘read.’ You turned the corner sharply and when your eyes fell on him, you began to cry. It wasn’t an ugly sob or an overdramatic display of affection, but you cried. Your eyes watered visibly and when you blinked, the tears ran along your cheeks, similar to the water that continued to run down your body, creating a puddle of water on the floor which Cyril happily licked up. “Alfie.” You whispered. This time, he did look. You stood in the doorway, one hand on your hip and the other dangling by your side, clutching on to the chain which carried the engagement ring. Smirking lazily, he moved to stand, but you crossed the room in an instant. Your small body scrambled to be on top of his own, crushing the newspaper. Your arms wound around his neck, greedy lips pressing against your fiancé’s. His arms locked around you in a tight embrace, holding you against him as he cuddled you, lips moving continuously against your own. You wanted to kiss him until you suffocated, but the itch in your lungs was too unbareable so you pulled back. The man beneath you cleared his throat. Though he couldn’t get down on one knee, he didn’t think you’d mind. “Will you..” his eyes fell to the ring. “Will I What?” You whispered, playfully nibbling on your bottom lip. You watched him swallow harshly before he placed his hands on your hips. It took him a moment, a lingering moment, before he did finally ask the question. You knew it was had for him and you didn’t mind the wait. “Marry me, pet. Yeah, right, I want to fucking spend the rest of my life with you, so,” he hesitated again. “will you marry me?” You unclasped the chain and slid the ring off before smoothly slipping it on to your finger. It was a very nice fit. Not too snug and not loose at all. Your small hands, new jewel glimmering, lifted to his cheeks. “Oh, god, Alfie, I promise I’m going to make you so so happy.” You whispered before moving your head to his. “You already have, pet.” He whispered. “You already fucking have.”

He didn’t budge from his position, holding you against him, almost protectively and when your naked body began to shake from the cold, he’d wrapped you in the blanket that was draped over the sofa. His clothes were wet because of you, but they would dry, and his thumbs were slightly sticky from wiping away your tears, but overall, this went way, way better than he could’ve ever imagined. He was sure you had a different scenario in your head, but he’d surprised you. He’d 100% caught you off guard and that was really what he wanted to do. Your body curled up closer to his, breaths deepening as you studied the jewel. Cyril laid down on the floor on top of Alfie’s boot-covered feet. This was your little family and one day the two of you would expand it. Your lips pressed to Alfie’s neck softly, snuggling up. You hadn’t known, two years ago, that things would turn out he way they did, but god you were thankful. This was everything you could’ve asked for and life would only get better from here.

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HI ALOT OF MY REQUESTS ARE GONE FROM MY INBOX SO I CANT SEE WHO REQUESTED WHAT. IF YOU REQUESTED THIS ( NOT ON ANON ) LET ME KNOW AN ILL TAG YOU IN IT IM SORRY. THIS HAPPEN TO LIKE 15 OTHER FICS.