#Tom hardy x y/n

[hottpinkpenguin]

For event:

Alfie Solomons with

A - “Ask me to stay” + N - not good enough

Please. Thanks

A/n: hiiiiiii, i realized after i wrote it that i got over-excited and forgot the quote (the trope is there though!!) but i like this too much not to post it!

Alfie Solomons X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2229 Tags: angst, steam, canon-divergence, swearing, misogynistic themes

Alfie Solomons was a man of many vices and few virtues. He’d gone to great pains to ensure that. 

Usually this fact was one he lived proudly. He lived violently, lavishly, and with reckless abandon. Spent his money foolishly, shot his pistols carelessly, and slept with women thoughtlessly. This earned him a larger-than-life reputation in Camden Town. It impressed his employees, amused his business partners, and irritated his enemies. Alfie Solomons was a thorn in the side of propriety, and he loved it.

That changed quickly after meeting you. 

Alfie wasn’t entirely sure when that change happened - he couldn’t finger a specific moment or blame any particular feeling - but he had realized some time ago that the man he’d spent his entire life growing into was suddenly a hindrance.

And it had never been clearer than now.

“Mr. Solomons, I am not a man prone to jokes or levity, especially in moments as grave as this.” Your father was sitting across from Alfie, his back as straight as a whipping rod, hands splayed on the small kitchen table between them. He was taller than Alfie remembered, with shrewd dark eyes that bored straight into him. The absent smile of regret slid off Alfie’s face when he snapped back into the moment, dragged out of wistful reverie. 

“No, n-no sir.” A stutter? Alfie Solomons had never stuttered a day in his life, but here he was, reduced to a stuttering, sheepish shadow of himself in your kitchen. He could hear the slightest creak of a floorboard outside the kitchen door - no doubt you and your three younger sisters listening intently to the near-midnight conversation about your future. 

“I must admit, Mr. Solomons, I am utterly perplexed. My daughter is a young woman with no means, very few prospects beyond that which marriage will afford her. It is my understanding that she intends to pursue a life in the church, in fact.” Alfie’s heart froze to solid ice in his chest. A nun? My god, what was this woman doing to him. Alfie Solomons swore silently to himself that he’d die before he saw you don a habit and wimple. The mere sight of that alone would kill him.

“Yes sir, yes, I understand. I understand well.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed as it was rather obvious that Alfie Solomons did not, in fact, understand at all.

“She is a good girl, but plain and modest in both looks, prospects, and background. Surely a man of your… stature-” your father’s voice pressed down on this word with distaste “- would have his pick of eligible brides.”

Alfie stifled a chuckle, recognizing that it would do him no good to appear cocky or dismissive of your father’s concerns. Your father was right on all accounts: Alfie Solomons was a gangster, a womanizer, and a criminal. You, on the other hand, were… well, words failed Alfie when it came to describing you, but to say you were everything that he was not was an understatement of the worst kind. 

He settled on what he hoped was an appropriately chaste nod. Your father leaned back slightly in his chair, eyeing his eldest daughter’s apparent suitor with bald antipathy. Alfie wasn’t used to people - especially other men - regarding him so openly. It made him uncomfortable in a manner he was quite unused to, as if he was being truly seen for the first time in a long time. He squirmed slightly in his chair, clearing his throat and fidgeting with the wide-brim of his best hat, something he’d had commissioned specifically for this occasion. 

The silence between the two men was widening into a chasm. It was more than you could take. Suddenly unable to stop yourself, you leapt up from the crouch you’d been in for the last half hour, eavesdropping from the stairwell with your mother and younger sisters. You launched down the stairs, despite your sisters grabbing at your nightgown. Your mother gasped as you flung open the kitchen door, almost unseating Alfie in the process. Your kitchen was as modest as your future prospects, and with the three of you crammed into the space it was mighty tight. The added pressure of your nearly-dashed hopes, your father’s broad disappointment, and Alfie’s hopeless attachment to you turned the meager room from cozy to positively stifling. 

“Papa, please! I love him! You can’t keep me from him, I won’t let you!” 

Childish and painfully simple, not nearly the eloquent protest you’d been mulling over all day. And a lie to boot. If push came to shove - as it so often did with your father - he could very much keep you from marrying Alfie Solomons. Your cheeks reddened in embarrassment at your outburst.

Alfie, for one, thought you’d never looked more perfect. Your eyes sparkled in the dim lamplight, your hair was undone and slung over one shoulder in a lazily constructed braid, small curls breaking free around your temples and forehead. Your skin flushed with the unseasonable warm of the September night in Camden Town, those beautiful pillowy lips he couldn’t get out of his head parted and pink. If he was a coarser man and the situation less important, he felt sure he’d grab you and pull you onto his lap right then and there, bystanders and naysayers be damned.

“Saints above, m’dear, come away and cover yourself!” Your mother had been only a few steps behind you. Unable to step fully into the kitchen, she settled for tugging on your arm. Your blush deepened to a shade of red bordering on purple as you realized you were standing in nothing but a summer-thin nightgown. Alfie’s gaze hadn’t made its way far enough from your face yet to take in the ample expanses of skin on display, but your father was glaring daggers into the opposite wall, his jaw set so tight you wondered his teeth didn’t break. 

Appropriately embarrassed, the element of surprise now lost to you, you bowed your head and let your mother tug you out of the kitchen. Your mother - a soft-souled romantic at heart - made gentle soothing motions against your back as silent sobs began to rack through you. You climbed the stairs in a fog, your sisters scattering at your mother’s insistence that ‘the show’s over, girls’. With each step higher, you felt certain that the future you’d imagined for yourself with Alfie was destined to be nothing more than a far-flung dream. 

The kitchen had sunk back into a tense silence, however for subtle reasons not quite clear to Alfie, your father seemed infinitely more disquieted by your scene than he’d have expected from the sour old puss. Those gnarled, knobby hands that had, until just a moment ago, been laid out like piles of kindling on the table all evening were suddenly clasped together and fidgety. Your father seemed shorter, his spine bowing under an invisible weight. Against himself, Alfie Solomons found himself leaning forward with a hint of concern.

“Sir? Are you quite alright?” 

Your father’s gaze had lost none of its venom, although behind that mask of derision was a spark of emotion. 

“How did you manage it, Mr. Solomons?” The question was as quiet as snowfall in winter. Alfie almost had to ask him to repeat it. 

“What, sir? Manage what, sir?” More stuttering. Gods be damned, Alfie Solomons was a mess. The image of you bursting into the kitchen, all softness and outrage and girlish desire, had tied him into knots. 

“My eldest daughter is many things, Mr. Solomons. A diligent student, a kind voice to her sisters, a steadfast helper to her mother. A pious child of God.” (Alfie struggled to keep himself from breaking into an impish grin, knowing that if your father had any inkling of the enthusiastic midnight rendezvous the two of you indulged in frequently that he most certainly would not dub you pious.) “And a passionate spirit, I confess. Yet… that part of her is… locked away.” 

Alfie found himself nodding, his memory dragging him back to the first few weeks of your acquaintance. You’d been all business - all ‘yes, Mr. Solomons’ and ‘right away, sir’. But he’d seen that fire in you, the same fire your father spoke of. It simmered deep in your eyes and bubbled up when you laughed. It had sent Alfie to the brink of madness to come so close to something he wanted so badly and to be denied it. But with diligence, patience, and focus - all virtues that Alfie Solomons had gone to great lengths to rid himself of - he’d finally won you over. He’d finally found that the fire inside you burned wild and free. You were raw and open and unfettered with him now. A gift he’d kill for. Hell, he’d die for it too. 

“But not with you, apparently.” Your father’s voice trailed off into quiet. Alfie wondered what he was meant to say. He settled on a noncommittal grunt of agreement. 

“How that came to be, I find myself unable to hazard a guess…” Another probing gaze, the kind that made Alfie squirm. “And perhaps I wouldn’t like the answer. In fact, I…” Your father stopped suddenly, clearing his throat and straightening his crisp Sunday jacket. A ridiculously formal choice for the occasion, Alfie thought, although he realized he could hardly cast stones as he looked down at his freshest suit, newest hat, and shiniest shoes. It seemed both of them had understood the importance of this night, and of the things that hung in the balance with their words.

“I am quite shocked to hear myself say this, Mr. Solomons, and I urge you to leave quickly lest I reconsider. But yes. You may marry her.” 

Alfie wondered if he’d finally drank himself into madness. This surely was a dream, a whiskey-addled fever dream. He gaped openly at your father, stammering out nothing more than shocked noises. 

“You don’t have my blessing, although I won’t stand in your way.” 

The door to the kitchen burst open again, and in you came once more, squealing and flying into a pair of outstretched arms. Alfie smiled as your father engulfed you in a surprised hug. You were bouncing on your toes, peppering the side of his freshly shaved face with kisses and earnest expressions of ‘oh thank you Papa! Thank you!’ Alfie was glad to see that you’d thrown on a housecoat and pinned up your hair in a style more akin to what he was used to seeing you wear. He didn’t trust himself around you with that just-woke-from-sleep blush on your lips. 

Always trailing behind you, in rushed your three sisters and your mother, exclaiming and clapping their hands as if it were a jubilee. How the entire family - plus Alfie Solomons - managed to fit into that pint-sized kitchen was nothing short of a miracle. Hugs were exchanged, and Alfie kissed so many hands he wasn’t sure who’s high-pitched voice was talking to him anymore. 

It wasn’t until he felt your familiar weight balancing on the toes of his boots that he felt himself begin to swim into reality. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, lifting you up off your feet into his embrace. You squeaked with joy, your soft hands finding their way to frame his face. Tossing all rules of propriety to the wind, your lips connected with his in a defiant, joyful, and soft kiss. You were warm under Alfie’s hands, and he was glad that no one but you could hear the groan of need he let loose as he tasted you on his tongue. For a moment, he let himself lose time in your mouth, hands resisting the urge to roam across your backside and around the swell of your hips. 

A pointed throat cleared, bringing Alfie Solomons down from the high. 

“As I suggested, Mr. Solomons, a timely exit would be a wise decision.”

Despite his generally somber countenance, Alfie could detect the faintest note of happiness in your father’s words. A confident declaration you’d made earlier that week drifted back to Alfie: Papa loves me, Alfie. He’ll have no choice but to say yes when he sees how in love we are. 

Alfie hadn’t believed a word of that back then, but he was grateful for your prescience. With a broad smile and a swelling heart, Alfie nodded graciously to your mother, sisters, father, and lastly to you, his bride-to-be, before making his exit. He donned his cap on the front steps outside your door, not minding the oppressive warmth of a sticky night even under his three layers of wool suit.

You stepped halfway out the door to wave shyly as Alfie retreated into the night, his feet barely touching the pavement beneath. He turned back more times than he could count to see you still standing there, bathed in the streetlamp’s light. He rounded the corner at the end of your street with the warm realization that, in a few weeks time, there’d be no more goodbyes from front stoops between the two of you. Only goodnight kisses - likely much more than that, if Alfie had any say at all - as one of you would turn down the bedside lamp, turning off the light on another happy day together in a future neither of you were sure would ever come to be���

[beah388love]

Cravings

18+ MINORS DNI!!!

Full Masterlist Legend Masterlist

Pairing: Reggie Kray x fem!pregnant reader

Summary: Your pregnant and get cravings…

Warnings: Swearing,cravings,pregnancy!!! (Please tell me if I missed any!!!)

"Reggie!" I whispered into his ear, poking his side with your pointer finger.

"Mh?" Reggie groaned turning in his sleep.

"Reggie baby..m'craving a'gain" i whispered louder in his ear.

"Again? What do'ya want this time?" He muttered into my neck, his other hand massaging my hips.

"Mmh...an ice lolly" I whispered with a shit eating grin.

"Of course why am I shocked" Reggie chuckled as he gave me a kiss and got up from the bed.

-

"Thank you baby" I said as I tried to take the lolly off of Reggie but he kept pulling it away smirking widely as he did.

"Reg..give it please..." i whined but he didn't give in.

"What's the magic word?" He smirked

"Give it"

"Nope" he grinned pulling his hand away.

"Pretty Please..the boys are hungry" i whined with a pout looking down at my bump,

"Fine.. the magic word was noodles but I'll give it to ya cause I feel bad" he handed it to me smiling.

“Dick” i gave him a playful nudge when he sat back down giving my bump a kiss before giving me a kiss.

[mlmxreader]

Inebriation | Bane x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Bane x Reader

-> Person A stealing Person B's hat/coat when they aren't looking

[I think Reader deserves to steal that giant coat, lol] ❞

: ̗̀➛ Bane will always look out for you and look after you, especially when he knows that you're under the influence. He just wishes it was a little bit easier to actually get you home.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ mentions of violence, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, smoking

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

It was your good friend's birthday. Celebrations were loud and underway, and as you hung onto Bane's arm, you couldn't help but to grin and laugh loudly; a few stiff drinks here and there, and suddenly Bane had to keep an eye out to make sure that you didn't fall into a bush and pass out there.

He was glad that you were happy, of course, but he did also worry a little bit that you might just fall over and break something as well; he didn't trust most of the people around, especially not the ones he had never seen before who so obviously looked you up and down and checked you out despite your inebriation.

He didn't like that one bit.

But he had to leave you for all of two moments to get you some water from the tap at the bar, as much as he had despised the thought of it; he left you with his coat and didn't think much of it, until he returned to find both missing.

High and low, Bane searched everywhere for you, and could only feel relief when he saw you out in the smoking area with a cigarette and wearing his big, brown fur lined coat.

He didn't waste much time, immediately sitting next to you and putting his hand on your back to keep you from falling when you started to sway side to side, laughing loudly.

"Bane!" You called his name as if he was the most wonderful and precious thing in the entire world. No one ever said his name like that. "You are amazing! You are lovely!"

His eyes crinkled as he let out a low and harsh chuckle from behind his mask, wanting to shake his head. But he merely allowed himself to pat your back gently. "I think, my little robin, you have had too much to drink."

"Nonsense!" You howled out with such glee that it almost hurt. "It's a party! We're here to have fun!"

Bane waited for you to look away to flick your ashes aside so that he could roll his eyes without you noticing. "You are intoxicated, my love."

"Only intoxicated on you," you purred, the words beginning the slur harshly. But then you stood up in front of him, opening your arms and swaying to a beat that he could not hear. "My, my, my Delilah! Why, why, why Delilah! So before they come to break down the door, forgive me Delilah I just couldn't take anymore!"

Bane laughed, the sound loud enough to appear thundering through the confines of the metal of his mask.

He never did understand why you would sing that song after one too many drinks, or when you did it whilst watching the Six Nations rugby and the Rugby World Cup - but he never stopped liking to hear it. Really.

It was daft and he knew that, but you were the one thing in his life that kept him human and made him feel like maybe everything he did was truly worth it.

Plus, he had never stopped thinking about when you had come out of hiding after seeing him break the Bat's back; the look in your eyes as you ran your hands up and down his chest, whispering to ask if he had a moment for some privacy.

He swallowed hard, scratching his throat as he did his best not to think about it too much; he had to make sure to get you home safely and soundly, and to make sure that there were no bushes-as-beds incidents like last time.

Gently, he grabbed your shoulders to pull you into him; your back against his chest as he started to guide you towards his bike; steering you with just a little too much skill. He had done it often enough that it practically came as second nature, as if riding a bike.

But you paused just in front of the bike, letting him lean on it as he kept his hands on your shoulders, and you softly kissed the gap in his mask where his cheek poked through slightly. A loud laugh and a loving grin.

"I love you," you slurred out. "I really do love you! Bane, you're my Delilah!"

The increase in volume of your voice made him loud quietly as he shook his head. "We need to get you home, little robin."

"Robin in a cage," you whispered to him. "All heaven in rage."

He nodded slowly; ever since you insisted on being at his side, he has always called you his little robin - a robin redbreast in a cage puts all heaven in a rage. You had sent the Bat into a frenzied rage when you gave up being his friend and chose Bane instead.

You were Bane's robin, even though you were not in a cage - you came and went as you pleased, did what you wanted. The only time Bane ever got controlling was either because you were drunk and he needed to get you home, or because it was dangerous for you to do something and he feared that the Bat would snatch you.

"My little robin," Bane murmured. "I think it's time we went home. You need to sleep."

You nodded, slouching against him with your forehead pressed to his shoulder as you grumbled under your breath. "I love you. You always look after me."

Slowly, Bane put his arm around you to keep you steady and make sure you didn't fall. "I promised I would. I wouldn't let anything happen to you - I would kill everyone in Gotham if it did."

He meant it.

There was no denying that he did very much mean it, but he wasn't so much worried about that as he helped you onto his bike; making sure that you had your helmet on and you were properly holding onto him.

It wouldn't be long before he had you home, and he would spend the night sleeping on the sofa whilst you slept in bed - if only so he could make sure that you didn't sleep on your side or fall out of bed.

༺═──────────────────────────────═༻

Thank you so much for reading! But if I may, I would like to redirect your attention to Hayam and her family. They need to get out of Gaza and flee the genocide, they're so close to their goal now that really and truly, it would work wonders if anyone could spare some cash. Even if it's just £1, it really would mean so much to help this family get out and survive genocide, so please, please, if you have any cash to spare at all, consider giving it to Hayam and her beautiful family.

[turvi]

Hey everyone. If you remember I had an Eddie Brock x Reader series called Come Get Your Funky Lovestory which I had to give up because it wasn't getting enough attention. It's been a while and finally I realised that it is Tumblr's fault that my series was not being pushed. So I will reedit my series and finally complete it (even if it doesn't get enough attention). I will create a master list as soon as I am done with a few WIPs.

So if there are still any Eddie Brock fans left in this website let me know and I'll tag you so you can love and hate on the series accordingly. All kinds of criticisms are allowed

[charliehoennam]

gentle giant

Summary: The Solomons enjoy quality family time with their young baby daughter as per request by @j23r23

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of pregnancy and natural childbirth, oc!daughter, hints at smut

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG.

"She can't even play with that yet, Alf. She's too small" you told him when he brought home a large and lavish dollhouse, carried up to your daughter's nursery room by a couple of his men.

"Course she can't now. But, she will someday. Nothing but the best for my little Laura."

You chuckled and shook your head at his excitement, deciding to let him be happy because he genuinely was.

He has never been prouder of anything in his life.

It was needless to say that Alfie wasn't like most fathers of the time. Every day, you woke up feeling blessed and fortunate enough to be his wife.

Now, you are the mother of his child. Of his first born princess that he was already spoiling with all the finest little clothes and toys.

It's been a few months since you'd brought Laura into the world and Alfie's pride radiated as if he'd just learned he was going to be a father. Having expected the high of newfound fatherhood to fade away with late night nappy changes and early morning hungry cries, you were surprised to find that he was still so thrilled about being a father.

Not only was he proud of his little Laura, but he was still amazed beyond comprehension at your body.

During the pregnancy, he constantly marveled at the growing bump in your belly. Alfie was no fool; he understood perfectly well how a woman's body works, yet it was still the greatest miracle to him.

He never stopped calling you a Goddess for having the power to create life.

The birth of your daughter left him complete ecstasy.

Most men, especially in Jewish traditions, it was uncommon for the father to be present in the room for such a thing. But, then again, Alfie was no common man. He was always far from ordinary.

He insisted on being present to watch the miracle himself.

You'd talked about it before and assured him the midwives would take care of you. After all, he had hired the best staff to take care of you before, during and after the pregnancy.

He still continue to insist on being present - as long as you were comfortable with his presence - to watch his beloved daughter come into the world. He would've brought her out of you himself if only he knew how.

You wondered if it might have been instigated by the jealous thought of having a doctor between your legs.

You were more than grateful that he had insisted so strongly because you truly believe that, if it hadn't been for his motivating words and endearing support, you couldn't have done it by yourself.

Alfie had never cried so much in his entire life as he did when he first heard Laura's cries. You knew right away that Laura would have him wrapped around her wrinkly little finger.

And you were right.

It's late evening when Alfie comes home from an exhausting long day of work.

After hanging his hat and coat, he greets his favorite dog and heads off to search for you and his little Laura only to find you naked in the luxurious porcelain tub of your bathroom with your young 6-month-old daughter, sharing a warm bath.

"Well, ain't this a sight for sore eyes, eh?" he smirks from the doorway.

His heart warms as he sees your eyes light up.

"Baths always help her sleep better."

"Can't blame her," he nods unbuttoning his shirt. "Any room for me?"

"There's always room for you."

Of course there is. You hardly get much time to spend with your husband. The absence has him yearning for his family just the same.

He sinks into the opposite side of the tub with a tired groan, raising the water level to your swollen breasts.

"Give 'er here. Give 'er to poppa."

You carefully handed your daughter over to his hands.

Alfie holds her against his naked burly chest, kissing her head and cheeks as he informs her how much he's missed her in the softest tone.

"Daddy's missed you so much, princess. Yes, I have. Barely got see my little angel today. But that's alright, yeah? Poppa's here now, ain't he? You been good for your mother? Behaved yourself?" he questions as if she could respond, taking the small bowl to fill with water before gently pouring it over her back.

You watch leaning back against the porcelain, and admire the vulnerability of the big bad Alfie Solomons.

The word that spread around only spoke how cruel and cunning he was; of the horrors he was capable of and enjoyed inflicting upon those who betrayed him.

Yet, only you know how he could be the complete opposite. This version of him was for your eyes only and, for that, you felt blessed.

With his large hand cupped over Laura's little bare bum, he smiles as he relishes in the sounds of her giggles emitted every time he pours water over her back.

"Yeah, you like that, eh?" Alfie chuckles. "Want another go?"

She squeals happily as he repeats the action, excitedly pulling at his burly chest hair.

He yelps as he tries to unlatch her tiny fingers from his hairs.

"Got the grip of the Devil, don't she?"

"Tell that to my hair. Have to keep it up all the time so she doesn't turn me bald" you smile at him.

She giggles more enthusiastically as she pulls at them again.

"Ow! Laura, I am your father, young lady" he playfully chastises her.

"I think she takes after you."

"How so?"

"She enjoys hurting others."

"No, I enjoy hurting those who deserve it. I done nothing to deserve this" he chuckles at you.

"That's nothing compared to her biting my tits. If you think she's got hands of the Devil, try her teeth."

"They're starting to come in, innit?" he asks gently pulling her chin down to examine the two little white spots on her lower gums. "You never complained when I nibbled on them" he continues shooting a smirking glance at you.

"That was different" you chuckle back.

"I can be gentle" he replies with a wandering gaze at your chest.

"No. They're sore as fuck, Alf. They're off limits tonight."

"They're irresistible, they are. Fucking tripled in size, innit?" he chuckles. "Fucking 'ell, love. God is a cruel bloke, He is."

You laugh shaking your head. Alfie never fails to make you feel like a goddess, despite the worries you had about your changing body. It was exactly uncommon at the time for men to lose interest in their wives after pregnancy.

You'd seen many women go through it and you feared your fate would've been the same.

Thankfully, pregnancy had the opposite effect on Alfie. He was already eager to get started on the second child.

"All I'm saying is Laura will need a sibling when she's older."

Alfie's debating continued even after your shared bath. You're trying your cotton robe closed as he carries Laura into your bedroom where you had laid out her sleeping clothes beforehand.

"You say that all the time."

"Doesn't it make it less true. Besides, the fun part is trying."

Laying Laura down on the bed with a smirk, he stands upright and faces you.

The way he holds your waist has you melting under his touch. You take advantage of the moment to admire his details.

The wrinkles on his forehead, the disheveled light brown locks shining in the warm light of your room, the hairy tuffs that were peeking out from his robe.

You slide your palms up his strong arms until they rest on the back of his neck.

"Alright. I'll put her down for bed and we can have some fun time of our own" you smile sweetly at him.

His plush lips - hidden in his bushy brown beard - spread widely with mischief and excitement, infecting you with arousal as they made their way to press against your own.

You kiss him deliciously, letting his hand rest against your soft cheek. His tongue flicks against your bottom, already begging for entrance. You allow him it.

The kiss is more than enough to fuel the fire already sparked inside, in the depth of your cores. But you're both brought back to reality when Laura tiredly whines and rubs her sleepy eyes, kicking her chubby legs in the air out of frustration.

You part from Alfie's loving hold on you and bend down to scoop Laura up into your arms, assuring her everything is alright in gentle whispers.

Alfie watches how your loving nature is quick to soothe your fussy daugther in admiration. He loves watching you with her. His wife with his daughter in arms. His family.

All the words in every language would never be enough to describe the joy and pride you bring out in him.

Getting Laura to fall asleep is hardly a challenge. She was already tired from the long day and from staying up a bit past her bedtime.

Once you get her warmly dressed for the night, you sit in her nursery's rocking chair to give her one last feed.

She latches onto your nipple quickly, staring up at you with big doey eyes. The mixture of blue and gray remind you of Alfie. Her long lashes flutter as she slowly blinks, suckling for milk as she holds your index finger in her tiny hand.

You hum as you let her drink her fill, hoping to lull her sleep.

She can't resist the building sleep no matter how hard she tries. At this point, she's not even trying to drink anymore. Her eyelids grow heavier with every blink.

Gently tucking your breast back into your robe, you rest Laura's head against your shoulder as you gently pat her back to burp her.

She tries to fuss about having her favorite source of nutrition taken away, but her exhaustion dominates.

It doesn't her long to fall asleep.

Before setting Laura in her crib without stirring her too much, you kiss her head and thank the universe for blessing you such a precious little angel to care for and love.

Walking back to your room, you search Alfie but you find he's no longer there. So, you walk down the hall and the stairs in search of your husband, knowing exactly where to find him.

The office door is open as the light shines, providing the only light in the hallway. As you lean in the doorway, you smile and tap against the wooden door.

"She go down alright or put up a fuss?" Alfie smiles looking up at you from his paperwork.

"No fuss tonight. I think she was really tired." You walk into his office with a smile as you make your way towards him. "Now it's time for the grown-ups to have some fun."

Alfie smirks as his chair spins, watching you struct over to his side. His eyes scan over your frame, drinking in the sight of you as you untie your robe, letting the fabric part and shyly reveal your naked body.

"Unless you'd like to stay down here and work?"

He chuckles as he stands and kisses you tenderly, holding your face in his hands as if you're made of the most delicate and precious glass with his rough fingertips gently propping your chin up to make you face him.

"Love, the only work I've got to do is fucking you until you can't walk."

[zablife]

Hey, I would like to place an order for a one shot from Johnny Davis that something like him getting jealous and ending up in a smut with him angry or violent or something like that

And I will gladly fill it bc I still can't get enough of Johnny!

Ring of Fire

Johnny Davis x gf reader

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, unwanted advances, fighting, mention of a weapon, mention of blood, arson, smut

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably as you watched Johnny and the guys standing at the bar, his promise to return with your drink echoing in your ear even as the mounting stares of a couple of greasy looking young men turned to catcalls.

"Looks lonely over there, sugar. C'mere and sit in my lap."

Attempting to avoid their hungry eyes, you stared at the opposite wall, wondering if this stop along your route had been a good idea. While technically still in Vandals territory, it was quickly being overrun by newer, younger members who didn't play by the rules.

These boys clearly fell into that category, sneers crossing their lips as they turned to crueler taunts upon suffering your rejection. Sliding his chair closer to yours a wiry looking kid with a mustache teased, "What's it like fuckin' a corpse, sweetheart? Or can he even get it up for ya?" You turned away in disgust, but he captured your wrist, forcing your hand toward his crotch. "I ain't got that problem," he smirked at you with twisted delight.

You spit in his face as you jerked your arm away, reeling backward as he let go at the same time. His low chuckle rumbled against your back as you stumbled for the exit with tears pricking your eyes.

Before you reached the door, Johnny was calling to you. "Where you goin', baby doll? I didn't forget about you," he smiled warmly, handing over a shot glass. Without caring what it was, you sunk it quickly to steady your nerves, eliciting a cheer of "atta girl" and a little toast from the table behind you.

Face full of thunder, his jealous streak emerged as he watched younger men eye you like their last meal. "Stupid fuckin' kids," he muttered through gritted teeth. With a low growl, he tucked you beneath his arm and escorted you to a table away from their prying eyes. Perching you on his lap, he massaged the exposed skin of your thigh in soothing circles asking how you wanted to spend the weekend. It helped calm you momentarily, but then you heard the whispers rise once more.

"Tell her to come back here and spit on your dick," a voice snickered, beer bottles clinking in agreement.

The remark caught Johnny's ear as well, the hairs on his neck bristling as he asked, "What the fuck did he just say?" His eyes lingered on the table of men testing his patience, but you stroked the coarse hairs of his beard gently to bring his attention back to you.

Knowing how quickly his temper could get the better of him, you attempted to keep him rational. "They're lookin' for a fight, don't give 'em one, okay?" you urged.

Although he continued to eye the room warily, Johnny relaxed into his chair as your fingers massaged his shoulders, a quiet hum of satisfaction emitting from his throat.

You needed something more to keep yourself feeling free and unbothered so you quickly downed another round of drinks. A fact which didn't go unnoticed by Johnny.

"Slow down, darlin'. Wanna be flat on your face 'fore the nights over?," he warned, pulling a cigarette from his pack of Marlboro Reds.

"More like flat on her back," a voice behind you wheezed with laughter. "Little whore's achin' for it," he muttered, gulping down the rest of his beer.

Johnny's shoulders tightened beneath his leather jacket, a nearly imperceptible signal that he would attack even as the slow exhale of smoke obscured your view of his expressive green eyes.

Seconds later his body was in motion, hoisting you from his lap in one fluid motion to dive for the man who'd dared insult you. Although you hid your face in your hands to keep from witnessing what would come next, the sickening crunch of bone told you everything you needed to know about the swift and merciless justice Johnny was exacting on your behalf.

Another loud crack and a rush of wind sent you scrambling against the wall, opening your eyes just in time to see a chair being broken over Johnny's back. However, he recovered more quickly than his drunken opponent, grasping the switch blade from his boot and raising up to swipe at the man's cheek.

A sharp gasp left your mouth as blood spattered across Johnny's front, a sharp metallic scent cutting through the acrid sweat soaked air instantly. As the man doubled over in pain, Johnny turned to Brucie shouting gruffly, "Get her out of here."

"M sorry," the pathetic figure sputtered, blood pooling in his mouth as you shuffled past. "I didn't know she was your lady..."

Johnny rolled his eyes at the blatant lie. "Now you fucking know," he hissed with a swift kick to his ribs, watching the man fall to a heap at his feet.

As the chaos subdued the owner rounded the corner, shoulders hunched in submission as the fear coursing through his veins caused him to ramble apologetically. "If I told him once, I told the kid a hundred times, he's gotta watch that mouth of his. He's like that no good father of his. But he's my sister's boy so I try, you know? Please, Johnny, he's learned his lesson. He's gonna remember it too," he swore earnestly as he helped the kid off the floor, eyes still trained on Johnny's blade.

"Is that right?" Johnny asked with a raised brow. His eyes roved the bar slowly as he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket to clean the blood from his knife. "Well, I know my girl's gonna remember this and that don't sit too good with me."

"He'll apologize," the owner spoke up as his nephew groaned in protest.

Taking a step forward to hover over his bloodied victim, Johnny seethed in a low threatening tone, "He's not coming anywhere near her."

"I don't understand....What else do you w-want?" came the frightened reply.

Tucking his knife back inside his boot, Johnny shrugged. "Make it go away."

A sliver of light cut into the darkened bar as Brucie cautiously entered, finding Johnny standing motionless amidst the broken glass and bar stools. Even in profile, he recognized the crazed look lingering in Johnny's eyes. As he drew his lighter toward the waiting cigarette on his lips, the bright orange flame flickered in his pupils, illuminating the murderous desire that still lurked within.

Brucie gulped before asking, "What about the bar?"

"Burn it down," Johnny answered without hesitation, turning on his heel to find you.

When he caught sight of your trembling form, he captured you in his strong arms. "How's my doll? You hurt?" he asked, hooking his chin against the top of your head protectively, his hand caressing your back.

Crushing him with your eager embrace, you took the first deep breath you'd been able to draw since leaving his side. "I'm fine," you assured him as you broke away, lacing your fingers with his.

He hissed in pain and your eyes fell to his bloody knuckles, fingers tracing the rapidly swelling joints as you accessed the damage. "Needs ice," you commented, placing a tender kiss to his reddened skin.

He visibly shivered beneath your touch, hand clasping the back of your neck as he confessed, "I only need you right now, sweetheart." Dipping his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss, he tore away long enough to urge, "C'mon." The desperation in his eyes being the only explanation you needed, you allowed him to take hold of your elbow and pull you into the alley across the street.

Stolen away from anyone still lingering outside the bar, nothing could stop him from ravishing you in the inky twilight. The crushing grip of his hands yanking your hips toward him, fingers pressing into the flesh of your ass before wandering upward to squeeze your waist, then seek the heat of your body beneath your cropped shirt. It was as though he couldn't decide which part of you he wanted most and greedily took you in by the handful.

As you caressed his cheek, he finally tangled his fingers in your hair, tugging slightly to tilt your chin up at him. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip with a look of famished desire before he leaned in to devour you, sucking and biting until your lips turned puffy and swollen. The pleasing shade of ruby red making him groan.

Still feeling the adrenaline of the past hour coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but give in to his feral intensity, especially as you glimpsed the fresh spatter of blood on his shirt. Pushing his jacket from his body, your fingernails clawed at his muscular shoulders, leaving scratch marks through the thin white fabric of his t-shirt.

He smirked at your eagerness, pinching your nipple harshly through your top and eliciting a whimper from you that made his cock strain in his pants. Tapping your thigh, he indicated for you to jump into his arms and you quickly found yourself pinned between his sturdy frame and the cool concrete wall behind you. He pushed the air from your lungs as the weight of his chest settled over you in an act of raw domination.

Leveraging your position against the wall, you began to rock your pelvis against the growing bulge in his jeans and he relinquished his hold on you to concentrate on the delicious friction.

A give and take of pleasure began as he leaned forward to suck a bruise into the tender flesh of your neck, a growl ripping from his throat when he could no longer stand his confines.

"Gotta have you, baby doll," he ground out between huffs of breath.

"I'm yours," you promised, looking up at him through your lashes as you helped free him to the cool night air. Locking eyes with him, you spit into your palm before grasping his throbbing length with enthusiasm.

You watched his eyes roll back in pleasure as you began to pump him, biting your lip at the enticing way his jaw went slack whenever your wrist flicked on the upstroke. He moaned as your thumb grazed his weeping tip, more than ready to bury himself inside your warmth.

Moving your underwear to one side, he dipped two fingers inside you without warning, making you clench down around him as he praised, "So wet for me."

The rough callouses of his fingers dragging against your sensitive walls created a wave of uncontrollable panting, a voice you barely recognized as your own issuing forth to beg for his cock.

"Need you Johnny, please," you mumbled into his shoulder as he removed his fingers to brush the head of his cock against your slick folds, teasing another round of wanton moans from you.

Your pleas severed the last shred of his self control, strong hands repositioning you to cup your ass tightly and begin pistoning up into you.

You clung to him as best you could, ankles locking around his lower back to accept each powerful thrust. As your breath came in short bursts, Johnny could feel you begin to flutter around him with the tell tale signs of your impending release.

"That's it, sweet girl, cum on my cock. Just for me," he coaxed, knowing just the sound of his voice could push you over the edge.

"Johnny, Johnny, I'm gonna..." you whined and he slowed his pace slightly to tilt his head, watching your face contort in pleasure.

"That's it, pretty. Feels good, huh?" he asked, beard scratching against your cheek as he nibbled your jawline. "Go on, say it again. Who makes you feel this good?" he prodded arrowing his hips into you with skilled precision.

"Ugh...you...you do, Johnny!" you squeaked, fingers scrambling to find his face with your eyes screwed shut.

"Open your fucking eyes when you say that," he growled, large hand encircling your neck and giving a squeeze to demonstrate his seriousness.

Your eyelids flew open, meeting his piercing stare just as your orgasm crested, the intensity of it and the lack of oxygen making you dizzy.

He released his hold moments later to press his lips to yours, breathing life back into your shaking body as he continued thrusting into you, words of devotion tumbling from his lips. "Such a good girl for me."

You could sense his own end approaching as he began to lose rhythm and you murmured against him, "Finish in my mouth."

With a nod, he lowered you onto shaky legs, watching as you steadied yourself against his broad thighs, parted lips waiting for his seed. Johnny held the back of your head as he fisted his cock roughly, unable to believe the admiration shining in your dewy eyes. He came with a grunt, thick pearlescent ropes falling onto your tongue as a loud explosion erupted just over your shoulder.

Swallowing harshly, you leaped up to the safety of his chest, heart crashing against your ribcage.

Johnny waited for a moment before raising your chin away from the crook of his neck with his thumb and forefinger. He slowly turned your head to face the direction of a loud crackling sound and you flinched watching the flames leap into the night sky.

"Is...is that what I think it is?" you asked breathlessly, barely able to comprehend the heat rising at your back.

"All for you, sweetheart," he confirmed. "I'd burn this city to the ground for you," he whispered, scattering kisses along your collarbone.

You had no doubt because that's the kind of man Johnny was. His love was like a burning ring of fire which had gone wild in every sense of the word.

[austinbsblog]

The Winner Takes It All

(Benny Cross x Fem!Vandal!Reader)

Warnings: Smoking, alcohol, language, mention of breasts, kissing

A/N: I loved this anon request! It was so fun to write and get to experiment with a confident character. If you wish to see the request scroll down on my page!

•

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As you and Benny made your way to the bar, the rumble of his motorcycle reverberated through your body, filling you with a sense of exhilaration. You held onto him tightly, feeling the rush of wind as your hair flowed behind you, the streets blurring into streaks of light and color. You nestled your chin on his shoulder, the curve of his leather jacket providing a sense of security as you leaned into the ride. The heady scent of gasoline, cigarette smoke, and his cologne mingled in the air, creating an intoxicating aroma that filled your senses. With each breath, the familiar yet thrilling scent enveloped you, triggering a rush of anticipation and comfort. It was a scent that belonged solely to Benny. The warmth of his body pressed against yours provided a stark contrast to the cool night air.

•

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•

As you approached the bar, the lively sounds of the Vandals' loud laughter, clinking bottles, and soft rock music from the jukebox filled the air. Benny turned off the engine and steadied the bike with a kick of his boot, allowing you to dismount safely. "Thanks, Benny, I really appreciate it," you said, slipping off your leather jacket to reveal a black off-the-shoulder top. Leaning against the bike, Benny watched as you retrieved your lipstick tube and mirror from your pocket and applied a deep red color. "Of course, Baby," he teased, knowing well that you weren't a fan of the nickname. Being the youngest among the Vandals, you had unwittingly acquired the name "Baby" and it has stuck ever since. Benny often wished he could call you his, but his attempts to express his feelings were always met with your captivating gaze that left him feeling bashful. "Come on," you teased, impatiently tugging at his hand, "You're taking forever," as you playfully dragged him into the bar.

•

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The dimly lit space is filled with a fog of smoke and Vandals taking over every inch. Johnny is the first to see the both of you and his eyes light up at the sight of your hands clasped with one another, “Baby!” Johnny announces and everyone’s eyes snap to the door. Your smile grows wide as everyone exclaims about your presence, gives you hugs, or kisses your cheeks. The pull of the crowd causes Benny to lose you in the crowd and watch you interact from afar. “Today the day kid?” Johnny asks as Benny slides into the seat at the table, Benny just smiles and stares at you with a look of tenderness while you nurse a drink and tell some story to a group gathered around you exuding confidence and boldness that captivated everyone's attention. "Listen, kid, I'm telling you if you don't gather up the nerve to ask her out soon, someone else is going to sweep her off her feet, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life," Johnny muttered, the end of his cigarette glowing softly. "Remember how quickly I married Betty? That's because I saw in her what you see in Baby," he added taking a drag. “You getting soft on me?” Benny questioned, and Johnny just gave him a look. “Fine…yeah yeah okay, I’ll do it,” Benny said getting up from the table. Johnny lifted his eyebrow and tapped his watch signaling to Benny that time was ticking and you weren’t going to wait very long. 

•

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•

Benny's eyes studied the pool table and lined up his cue, taking the shot. Come on’s, damns, and shits were shouted from the surrounding players as they put their money on the table. Benny chuckled at the cries knowing that they lost. “My my boys, is that how you speak in front of a lady?” you ask from behind Benny, your heels clicking louder as you approach the table. Your hands leaned against the table allowing the men to get a view of your defined collarbones and top of your breasts. “Hm, I see Benny beat all you fools, well, let’s see if you can beat me,” you challenge, as you glance up at Benny, take the cigarette from his lips, and place them between yours. The men put their new bets on the table and chalk up the ends of their cues. '`You playin’?” you whispered to Benny, “No I’ll watch Baby,' ' he responded, “Alright,” you sighed. All of a sudden a 50 dollar bill gleamed on top of the pile, and everyone went silent. Your eyes followed the hand and leather-clad arm up to a handsome man you had never seen staring right at you. Two other men in leather jackets with a devil on the back were on each side of him with their cues, “Well hi there, I’m Baby” your voice is sultry as you greet them, “Hello… Baby,” the man responded with furrowed eyebrows, “I’m Michael, this is James and Christopher” he says pointing to the others. A moment passes before Michael says “Why don’t we make this a little more interesting gentlemen?” “What do you have in mind?” Danny says, cocking his head to the side, taking the cigarette, and blowing out the smoke, “Whoever wins, takes the money and her on a date,” Michael suggests with a smirk on his face tracing your body with his eyes. “She’s not an item to be bought…or sold” Benny argued while staring at Michael with cold eyes, “Okay, then just a date,” Michael countered and leaned in. All eyes were shifting between Benny who had a cool gaze and Michael who had a smirk plastered on his face. “And, if I win,” you paused, “I get the money,” you raised your eyebrow at the men having a staring contest. “Deal,” they said at the same time. 

•

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It had been 30 minutes since the beginning of the game and 3 players were out. Benny and Michael were so concentrated on their scores and beating each other that they never realized you were winning significantly. Throughout the entirety of the game, Michael kept flirting with you to not only win you over but piss off Benny, and well, it worked. Benny was fuming like a bull. He couldn’t stand Michael treating you like an item, like some girl he could just fuck around with, you deserved better. When it was your turn, the balls were lined up perfectly for you to win. You smirk at the two men who were too busy giving each other death glares that when your stick hit the cue ball, you had won. The crowd’s roars and cheers for you caused Benny and Michael to snap their heads over to you. Your hand reached towards Danny who held the money, “Well Michael, tough game, better luck next time,” you snarkily said fanning yourself with the money, “He lost too,” Michael laughed as the crowd dispersed, “Did he though?” you smiled. Michael’s smile faltered at your question and Benny’s eyes widened as you walked over to his side. “He might have lost the game but, he sure as hell didn’t lose me, so thank you so much for your generous donation to our date,” you continued. You smile sweetly but with mischievous eyes as the trio walks away. “Come on, you gotta drive me home,” you say, taking Benny’s hand and once again dragging him out the front door. “Hold on, hold on,” Benny called out, “our date?” he said tugging at your hand so you were mere inches apart. “You think I wasn’t gonna go out on a date with you?” you gasped, “I didn’t… I… you like me?” Benny mumbled with a look of disbelief on his sculpted face. You put your hands on his face feeling the slight stubble and closed the gap between you. The kiss was passionate and made your stomach fill with butterflies as his hands enveloped your waist and rubbed the soft skin showing between your top and denim jeans. You broke the kiss when you heard muffled whistles and laughter. You both turned your heads to the bar and saw the Vandals pressed against the windows and door. You pressed your foreheads together and sighed,  “Does that answer your question?” you giggled. Benny broke out into a smile before planting a small kiss on your red lips.

~V

[raz-writes-the-thing]

More Venom x Reader Please!👏🏼🤌🏼

Idk if you want smut, angst, fluff or what so here's some HCs cutie

Venom x Gn!Reader Relationship HCs

VENOM: @0alk0msan @romeosix1 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

Venom is fiercely protective. As in, will have to be talked down from killing a person for checking out your ass kind of protective.

Mind you, if you like people checking out your ass he won't be bothered. He will even let you know that they did.

Kisses with Venom are mostly his tongue licking over your cheek. That's how he shows affection and gives you little pecks.

Venom is obsessed with forehead kisses. He pretty much demands them at least ten times a day.

Because you're his host, he knows your body literally inside and out and (with consent) will rile you up and tease you all day.

He will project images inside your mind of filthy things he knows turn you on- including some things that turn him on as well.

He will also trail tendrils up and over your skin under your clothes when you're out in public. Including over your crotch.

If there's even a hint of a headache, a paper cut or a stomach ache, he will fix you up with no problem. Usually, before you even know there's something wrong.

He loves to go to the movies with you, watching the movie through your eyes or if its dark enough, letting his form leech out from your shoulder so you can watch it together. He's a fan of horror and comedies.

His favourite thing is making you cum on his tongue. He will make you cum with his tongue two or three times minimum before he will leave you be.

[geeky-politics-46]

Eddie & Venom? H and V?

This is my first ask for Eddie & Venom. I'm so excited!

H - Humiliation (does degradation and insults get them hot? do they get off on humiliating someone else? what kind of humiliation is good for them?) 

Eddie isn't huge on humiliation except for calling you a little slut or his little whore. He loves the idea that you turn into a cock hungry vixen just for him and likes to tease you about how needy and desperate you get. He's a very verbal guy and loves how you keen at being called a slut. Venom got mad at him for calling you this at first until you explained to him how much Eddie degrading you a little bit turned you on. Now he encourages Eddie to call you that, even urging him to start whispering filth to you when you are out together knowing it gets you going.

Venom never wants to humiliate you. You are the most precious little human and he's absolutely smitten with you. When it's his turn with you he has no problem throwing some humiliation in Eddie's direction, though. Saying how much better equipped he is to pleasure you compared to Eddie. How Eddie could never manage to get you to cum in the same ways he can. Occasionally this gets to Eddie and you have to convince him that even though he may not make you cum in the same ways as Venom, he makes you cum in ways Venom can't. Venom always grumbles at that. You always tell them they both keep you incredibly satisfied

V - Voyeurism (do they like to watch, or are they more hands on? are they more of an exhibitionist?) 

Eddie had no idea he was a fan of watching before Venom. He always thought he was too posessive for that. Maybe it's because Venom is kind of like an extension of himself, but he loves watching Venom tease you with his tongue and his tendrils/fingers. Watching you writhe and moan as the symbiote slides all over your naked body turns him on a lot. In fact if you are in the mood and initiate sex, Eddie will usually let Venom start so he can watch you cum before he has his turn with you. He loves talking to you while Venom pleasures you. Telling you how much seeing you spread out and completely at their mercy turns him on. Asking if you have any idea how hard it gets him when you arch your back like that and Venom curls around you completely. He wants you to tell him how good it feels and maybe even beg for him to join in.

Venom is less a fan of watching, but is much better behaved now that him and Eddie have worked out a deal that each of them gets their turn with you. Venom knows if he doesn't interrupt Eddie when he's fucking you, he'll get his turn much faster. Before that Venom had a habit of backseat driving or providing color commentary while Eddie was trying to concentrate on you. He will occasionally tell Eddie that you seemed to really like something if he misses a cue or help steer him in the right direction if Eddie is having a harder time making you cum.

Both of them are very big fans of you sending naughty pics or videos. Eddie likes the idea of you making a sex tape, but he has told Venom he can't be in it just in case it were to leak. The world didn't need to find out about Venom through a sex tape. Venom pouted about this until you made him a deal that he could help direct it. Both Eddie and Venom also love when you go out without panties. Venom will absolutely sneak peeks under the table and may even go in for a taste if he's feeling like he isn't getting enough attention.

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...

Robert Fischer x Cobbs Daughter!reader

*COMPLETED*

*This will follow the plot of the 2010 film 'Inception'*

description - Y/n, the daughter of the thief Dominic Cobb and the late Mal Cobb, joined her father on the run. Knowing her fathers innocence, she couldn't bear to be without him, so she gave up on her architecture degree and followed him into the world of dreams. They do jobs together and, even though Cobb worries about the amount of danger he's putting her in, he'd rather her be with him in the dreams rather than on the outside carrying his name like a brand. In the latest job they are given, Cobb searches to find peace and Y/n is confronted with a man who tugs on her heart and infiltrates her dreams.

*reader is 20*

a/n - welcome to my first multi-chapter fic and it is with a character from the talented Cillian Murphy! I watched Oppenheimer the other day, so I've been rewatching his filmography and I obviously came back to Inception. Inception is hands down my favourite film and I think it was this performance that put Cillian on the map as an actor of tremendous talent!

a/n 2 - each chapter will have it's own warnings but the general ones are SPOILERS! (also should there be a taglist for this?)

Series Word Count - 37k

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger darling."

A Leap of Faith

To Build Cathedrals

Meeting Your Mark

Painted Windmill

A Lesson in Planning

Conscience Makes Cowards of Us All

Damsel in Distress

A Son's First Hero; A Daughter's First Love

Mr Charles and Miss Nobody

You Knew?

Go To Sleep, Miss Y/n

Couldn't Someone Have Dreamed of a Goddamn Beach?

Lies Are Weak Foundations

The Kick

Come Back To Reality

I Dreamed We’d Grow Old Together

[hottpinkpenguin]

Hey 😊 if your still taking requests for the peakys. Could I please ask for Alfie Solomons with A "ask me to stay" and D "dark secret" female reader. Thanks 💗💗

A/n: that's a wrap on Peaky Blinders requests from June!!! thx to all the lovelies who participated <3

The Wall Between Them - Alfie Solomons X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2362 Content warnings: Domestic violence, reader murders the abuser, abuse, violence, blood/gore, protective Alfie, can't-be-vulnerable Alfie, trying-his-best Alfie, hints of soft!Alfie?

Her hands shook so violently it was a wonder she didn’t drop the pistol. If anyone had been watching the scene before them, they would have credited a guardian angel for guiding the bullet straight to his chest despite the treacherous wobble of the gun. Her eyes were closed when she pulled the trigger, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the blood from her mouth. 

He fell like a sack of bricks. One minute he was lunging towards her, eyes trained on the pistol. A cold fear seized his heart as he saw the terror in her gaze melt away to black rage. All those whiskey beatings, harsh words and hateful years had backfired on him. Then, in the next instant, he died to the ear-splitting sound of a gunshot. 

The silence that followed was so loud she swore it would crush her. The walls around her seemed to be holding their breath. Was he really dead? Did she really pull the trigger? 

She didn’t let herself exhale until she saw a pool of blood - darker than she’d imagined it would be - staining the floorboards underneath him. She dropped the pistol; it landed with a heavy thud at her feet moments before her knees folded on themselves as if made of twigs. She pitched sideways, letting the hallway wall brace her fall as she deflated under the weight of realization. She knew in that moment that it didn’t matter how many times he’d hit her. The ghastly bruises and scars he’d left etched in her skin, the nights her mind had divorced itself from her battered body and wandered the halls like a ghost, the mangled monster he’d grown into… none of it mattered. All that others would see was a dead husband and a living wife with motive, means, and a guilty conscience. Even dead, that horrid man was imprisoning her.

She knew there was only one person who could get her out of this. And so, she wiped the blood from her rapidly swelling lip, picked up the pistol and slipped it into the deep pocket of her apron, and tied up the escaped strands of hair. It had been almost seven years since she’d seen Alfie Solomons, but she still knew exactly where to find him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Boss, there’s a lady here to see you.” 

Alfie barely heard Jack’s murmured comment above the jeer of the crowd. The Irishman was swaying unsteadily on his feet in the pen after taking a nasty round of hits to his right ear. Alfie could see his ear filling with blood. A busted eardrum, likely. Circling opposite him, the burly Hungarian Alfie knew as The Red Devil was snarling proudly as he surveyed his quarry. 

“Fuckin’ finish him!” Alfie called out, lifting a wad of bills in the air like a signal fire. The fight was fixed of course, and Alfie had fixed it. The Red Devil was turning into quite a lucrative investment, but his penchant for theatrics was tiring to Alfie. He preferred a quick win, efficient and clean. 

“Boss?” Jack edged slightly closer, waiting for Alfie’s orders.

“Hm?”

“A lady, boss. There’s a lady here to see you. Asked for you by name.”

“Didn’t book a whore tonight,” Alfie replied simply, waving Jack off as The Red Devil moved in on the Irishman, holding the dazed man’s head as he drove his knee up into the exposed forehead until the bell rang to signal the end of the fight. The crowd erupted into a mix of appreciative cheers, boos, and cries to settle up or place new bets as another pair of fighters moved to the edge of the pen. 

“Don’t think she’s a whore, boss. Looks like a respectable lady. Bit beat up though.” 

Alfie fixed Jack with an incredulous stare. He wasn’t accustomed to his men pressing him on trivial issues like this. Especially not on a fight night. Jack flinched imperceptibly; he was well-acquainted with Alfie’s anger and bore a nasty half-moon scar the framed his left eye from being pistol-whipped after pressing Alfie’s limits. Alfie almost moved to strike him, until something about Jack’s words and the odd look in his eyes plucked at something. 

“She give a name?”

Jack shook his head, eyes glued to the ground. “No. All she said was you were ol’ friends. Childhood friends, I think she said.”

It couldn’t be. Alfie shook his head as if trying to shake out the thought. But, then again, there was only one person he’d ever met who’d claim him as a friend. 

“Beat up, you say?”

Jack nodded. “Lip’s split and she got a shiner.”

A memory flickered across Alfie’s mind. He hadn’t seen her in years, but the last time he had, she’d had a ring of purple and green bruises around her neck. She’d tried to hide it under a high collar dress, but Alfie had her pressed up against the wall of his office, their lips devouring each other, and he hadn’t missed the way she winced when he let his hand slide down the side of her neck on its way to undo the line of buttons at the front of her dress. He knew who’d done it and didn’t need her to say a damn thing. If she hadn’t begged him on her knees - her goddamn knees - to spare that pathetic man’s life, Alfie Solomons would have gutted him nice and slow. 

He hadn’t seen her since. She’d stopped writing, stopped answering her own front door, stopped going to the butcher shop below where Alfie kept a small apartment. He’d had her on every surface of that apartment, rabid with hunger for anything she’d give him. Then she’d just vanished. Told him she was due to be married, couldn’t carry on with him anymore. Alfie knew there’d been a silent request buried in her words. He’d heard her ask it with her eyes. Ask me to marry you, and I’ll leave him. Alfie cursed himself every day for letting that moment slip by like water on rocks. He wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to love someone now then he was back then, but in his quiet moments he wondered if maybe he could have figured it out with her, if only he’d been willing to take that chance.

“Boss? Boss, what do you want me to tell ‘er?” 

The sound of the bell announcing the start of another match jarred Alfie loose from his reminiscences. 

“Nothin’. I’ll talk to ‘er.”

Jack eyed him with surprise, but quickly smoothed the spark of interest out of his features rather than risk another scar from his mercurial boss. He’d never known Alfie Solomons to pause his dealings for a woman. Something about her must have been special. Jack followed his boss out of the smoky, cacophonous warehouse and towards the back of the building where Alfie kept his offices. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Alfie felt his fingers dig into the wood of his desk as she stepped out of the shadowy corner of his office and into the soft halo glow of his desk lamp. Her lip was split, blood dried on her chin, and one of her luminous eyes was swollen shut. Murder ripped through Alfie’s blood at the sight of her. 

“Before you say anything, Alfie, he’s dead.”

Her voice sounded different, thin and strained, like someone had scooped out her soul leaving nothing but an echo behind.

“He sure fuckin’ is.” Alfie was shaking he was so bloodthirsty. He couldn’t look at her and risk losing himself. How could it still be so fresh, he wondered, after seven long years?

“No, that’s not what I meant… Alfie, I-, I killed him. I shot him.”

A different man might have been horrified, or maybe even a little impressed. Alfie was none of that. Instead, he felt himself pitch forward over the lip of a hole of despair. 

His voice cracked when he ordered Jack and the rest of the boys out of the office. Once the door closed behind them, she sank down into one of the leather-backed chairs across the desk from him. Desperate to be close to her lest she splinter to pieces, Alfie rounded the desk to perch against its edge, stretching his long legs away from her in an attempt to give her space. She hardly looked up at him. 

“What did he fuckin’ do to you?” Barely more than a whisper. Alfie was glad the light was too dim for her to see that he was treacherously close to tears.

She looked up at him, shocked. Her one good eye gleamed at him. 

“Alfie, did you hear me? I killed him.”

He nodded, swallowing thickly. Alfie was full of tender urges and gentle feelings, but his mouth couldn’t seem to give them words or noise. All he knew was harshness and violence. It was the same wall that had kept him from reaching out for her hand and telling her all the things he felt the last night he’d seen her. Here he was, so close he could smell her lavender soap but his affection locked away so tightly and deeply that he couldn’t force himself to touch it even if he tried.

“Nothin’ he didn’t deserve,” he grunted brusquely after a few moments. He dropped his gaze, unable to tolerate the sight of her face bruised and misshapen. He noticed her hands were trembling in her lap. “What do you need, darlin’?”

She stifled a small sob at the sound of the pet name he’d reserved for her. 

“He’s still-... the body, I- I don’t know… I guess-”

“It’s done. Write down your address.” Alfie handed her a pen and paper, watched as she struggled to mark the street name and number legibly. Her knuckles were bruised, he noted with a twisted pang of pride and pain. She’d been fighting back, he realized. All alone these last seven years. And he’d let her. He’d stopped fighting to get to her. Let her close herself off to him. Let himself close off to her. And now, it wasn’t until she’d been pushed to the brink - maybe past it - that she’d come to him, and only because she knew that when violence and darkness was needed, Alfie could do it. But he couldn’t do the other things, the harder things. Like love her, protect her, tirelessly fight for her. 

She tore off the page and handed it to Alfie. He took it without looking at the writing, strode over the door and excused himself from the office. He thrust the paper into Jack’s hands. 

“Take care of it, Jackie. No loose ends, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ rip you limb from limb if it ain’t done right.” 

He didn’t give Jack or the others time to argue or ask questions before he slammed the door as a dismissal and strode back to her. He reached for her, needing to feel her warmth under his fingertips just to prove she was here. She flinched instinctively, sending Alfie deeper into self-loathing.

“Do they know-”

“It’s done, darlin’. It’s taken care of.” 

Alfie poured himself a glass of whiskey, drunk it down in one gulp, and poured another. 

“Alfie…” 

Her voice was so soft and yearning it broke Alfie in two. He turned to face her. Gods she looked perfect. 

“It ain’t fuckin’ happenin’ again.” The most solemn promise he’d ever made. 

She recoiled from him as if slapped. It took him a half moment to process why. 

“I ain’t lettin’ anyone hurt you. Ever again, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ burn the world and every hateful man with it, it don’t matter.” It was all Alfie could find the words to say. 

Finally understanding his meaning, he watched her relax in the chair. She eyed him without saying a thing, a strange expression on her face. 

“I don’t want that, Alfie,” she replied softly. “I don’t want any more death. I don’t want to see someone hurt ever again. I just… I just want…” 

Her words trailed off into the quiet. Neither of them knew where the end of that sentence would lead. The space between them stretched and morphed until it felt like an ocean separating them. Strange, that two people who both wanted so desperately to be with each other could feel so far away.

“Don’t set any fires on my account, Alfie.” She rose from her chair and walked towards him, taking the glass out of Alfie’s hand and downing the whiskey with a wince. “Just ask me to stay.” 

Alfie felt his heart run headlong into that same old wall that always kept them apart. Here she was, the only woman who’d ever mattered, literally giving him the words she wanted to hear. And all that Alfie’s tongue wanted to say was more promises of vengeance, of violence in her name, of destruction. 

She watched him struggle, her gaze even but tired. 

“Ask me to stay, Alfie. That’s all I need.”

The openness those words threatened to expose in Alfie Solomons felt like a lit bomb nestled in the cage of his ribs. He choked on the air in his lungs. Come on, you fucker, he thought viciously as he struggled to press back on the urge to run. 

She watched and waited. Each moment, her shoulders sagged a bit more.

“Stay.”

It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, and Alfie spat the word out as if it had poison between its letters. But was it close enough? 

Her heart thought so. She felt a softness take root there, a shred of hope. 

Yes, it was enough. 

She gave Alfie Solomons a soft smile. The way he crumbled at the sight told her enough about his feelings for her. Even if he couldn’t put them into words, she could see the love that she was so desperate to excavate from wherever he stored away the fragile parts of himself.

“That’s enough,” she told him sweetly, lifting a hand to cradle the side of his face. For the first time in seven years, she let herself relax into a man’s touch as Alfie’s fingers found hers…

[mlmxreader]

Always Were My Favourite | Alfie Solomons x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Alfie Solomons (enby, gn, or male reader)

“Pumpkin, you're dating an asshole.” ❞

: ̗̀➛ There's a slight problem when Alfie happens to be in love with his best friend, right as they're going through a terrible breakup.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, mentions & references to cheating, threats of violence

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You huffed as you sat down opposite your best friend, scowling and lighting a cigarette that sat at the corner of your mouth. Of course you were well aware of how much he detested and despised and loathed the man you had chosen; you couldn't blame him.

The Italian-American mafia had always been a pain in his backside, and he was disappointed; there were plenty of good, decent men in Camden.

Why the fuck did you decide to run off with some Italian who would use you against him?

But Alfie did also understand it; your man spoiled you rotten. He bought you all the finest clothes from the best Italian tailors, he bought you all the best shoes from the best Italian makers.

He loved you with his money.

Alfie could see the appeal, to be looked after and never want for anything; but Alfie also knew you very well, and he knew that you weren't happy. Not truly. You put on a tough front, you always did, but Alfie could see right through it.

You wanted something more than just flashy, pretty, expensive gifts; even now, Alfie could see that you were wearing your old boots. Scuffed up and scruffy from years of hard work.

He almost wanted to smile, until he saw your eyes; the whites were red, and he could easily tell that you had tried to cover up where you had been crying.

A hitch in your throat when you took a drag from your cigarette.

A shake of your fingers when you withdrew it from your lips.

An audible gulp and a harsh swallow.

Alfie tilted his head to the side, furrowing his brows and closely watching you for a moment before he cleared his throat, coming to sit at the edge of his desk. His thick fingers drummed against the dark reddish brown wood.

"Pumpkin," he tutted. "Pumpkin, you're dating an asshole. I don't know how many fuckin' more times I can tell you... what'd that cunt do this time?"

You shrugged as you sniffled, shaking your head. "Note- nothing. Nothing, Alf. He did... he did nothing..."

"Bit more than nothin'," Alfie growled. "Talk to me."

"Don't be mad," you breathed out, shaky and unstable.

His gaze narrowed as he clenched his jaw, squinting. "Why the fuck would I be?"

You took in a sharp breath, trying to gather yourself for a moment. "I caught him with someone else... and he just... he sat there... didn't even... didn't- didn't look at me."

Alfie's gaze turned to stare out for a thousand yards, his grip on the desk making his knuckles turn white, his shoulders suddenly tensing up. A ragged breath left him, and the veins in his hands became more prominent.

Alfie promised he would never let anyone harm you, that he would never let anyone upset you; now you were sitting just a few steps away, shaking and crying and telling him so openly that you had caught your man in bed with someone else.

He was going to kill him.

But then his gaze snapped back to you, and Alfie sighed as he took the cigarette from you, chucking it aside; he was as gentle as he could be when he brought you to stand, slowly and carefully guiding you to stand between his legs when he sat down in his chair.

He tugged at your sleeves, and when you sat on his lap, he was quick to pull you in closer. Your head rested against the side of his neck, and he put one hand at the small of your back to keep you steady. You broke completely, crying and crying against him as he softly hushed you and told you that it was alright - he would deal with it.

Alfie always did.

Maybe it was because he had a weak spot for you; he had done for so long and he had never been able to find the time to tell you. Maybe he loved you a lot more than he was letting on, and maybe that was just something of his that could never be washed away. You were his favourite person, you always would be.

"Thank you," you whispered softly, pulling away and gently resting a hand on his cheek, his beard bristling and tickling your skin. "Really, Alfie, I, I, just-"

Alfie wasn't even expecting it when you leaned in, kissing him softly; he knew it was wrong, but he kissed you back eagerly.

"We shouldn't," he breathed out, shaking his head.

You shook your head. "I'm do sorry, pumpkin, I-"

"I should have known," you sniffled. "He was... Alfie, he was never any good for me, but... but you?"

"No," he begged softly.

"You've always been there for me," you wept softly. "You've always been my favourite..."

Alfie frowned as he felt tears sting at the corners of his eyes. "You don't wanna do this, now. Trust me, it's a fuckin' mistake and you ain't ready and-"

"But I want to," you told him. "Alfie..."

For a brief moment, he closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he licked his lips. "I'm gonna kill that fuckin' cunt. For everythin' he did to you, I'm gonna kill him."

But he knew that it was more than that, he really did. He hated it but he knew he couldn't change it even if he wanted to; you were his biggest weakness and he would do anything to keep you safe and away from harm at all cost.

Of course Alfie wondered if maybe the whole thing was just some horrible scheme to get under his skin so the mafia could fuck him over, but... even if it was, he knew that he had to do everything to protect you, and to make sure that no one ever hurt you again.

"Come on," Alfie murmured, gently patting your back as he dared to crack a broken smile. "Why don't we fuck off down the little alley where that little coffee shop you like is? We'll pick somethin' up, go back to mine, and then you can rest, yeah?"

You nodded slowly. "Alfie?"

"Mm?"

You gently kissed his cheek, as much as it pained him. "I love you."

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

can i just say that i am OBSESSED with your Alfie series. literally cannot get enough of it. Also!! Was wondering if you could write a fluff piece were reader gets injured and alfie comes to her rescuee? Your writing is so good <3

Hi my love! This ask was so so sweet! I am so glad you like the series, it was so much fun to share it with you guys, I know I tell y'all all the time but it's true! My heart is just so full I can't help it! And of course I can write some fluff! You know I love it hehe. I'm sorry this took a while but I hope you like it! This was actually inspired by my Thanksgiving fiasco this past year lmao. I was in charge of the turkey, mac and cheese, dessert, and potatoes. My little brother was my sous chef and I completely cut my thumb open and my brother almost passed out lmao. Anyway, sending all my love to you! - Mo

Ouch

Alfie Solomons x F!Reader, fluff, Warnings: injury, mentions of blood

There is something so soothing about the kitchen. When the world is so chaotic and cold and uncertain, the kitchen is a haven. Here it’s safe and warm and systematic. The chops and bubbling of the stove are so rhythmic, any harshness of the day just falling off your shoulders in waves. Because here you could understand and set the temperature. Here you could control the outcome and be free. Even if you were trying something new, you could be confident in the knowledge that it would always have a good outcome. It was your favorite part of the day, just cooking with Alfie. You on one side with Alfie on the opposite, working separately to jointly create beautiful.

The only problem that came with cooking, was that it was a little too peaceful. You became too relaxed. And as Alfie was apt to remind you, it wasn’t good to be too relaxed around knives and hot stoves. But it was too easy. The steady hum of the fire and boiling. The pattern you’ve gone through many a time. Your body would take over like a dance from your childhood. Your hands knew what they were doing. Your mind could take a break. And she would wander. Things to be completed in the office tomorrow. That new quilt you were making for your mother. Alfie needing a haircut.

Stir.

I need to make time for that book this weekend

Pour.

Alfie looked so handsome today if it weren’t for that awful stain on his shirt

Stir

Mama and Papa asked us to come for Shabbat this week. I need to tell Alfie.

Chop

We should go to the park this week

Chop

I wonder if we can visit Rabbi Reuben as well

Chop

Alfie’s birthday is also coming up

Chop

I’m so excited for his birthday surprise

Slice

“AH!!! Oh God ah!!”

A long and deep line blossoms on your palm. Far too entrenched in your mind, you were completely missing how the knife was getting closer and closer to your hand. You quickly grab a nearby dish towel, tightly wrapping your hand to catch the trickle dripping to the wood on the floor. Alfie is quick to you though, loudly dropping the cutlery and bowl he was holding. "Shit! Sweet heart you alright? What d'ya do to yourself?"

"Nothing nothing Alfie darling! Just a little scrape I'm sorry!"

Alfie peered at the slowly soaking dishtowel and raised his thick blonde brows at you. Mustache quirking, indicating that once again, you are a terrible liar. Gently but without holding room for argument he unraveled your makeshift bandage as you winced. His mouth furrowed and grumbled, "Ah shit treacle. This is why I always tell you right? You can't be all day dreaming when you're working in here! You insist on not letting me help ya, and then there you go fucking filleting yourself!"

Cool tears start trickling down. It burned with the introduction of the air and the embarrasment of getting a nasty cut. Alfie sighed, wiping your tears with one hand has he cradled your injury in the other. If there was one thing he hated most in the world, it was seeing you cry. "Aw my dove, no tears yeah? Not too bad ain't it? Why I don't even think it'll need a stitch I wager. Just a little alcohol on it and a bandage and you'll be right as rain. C'mon my angel, let's get you better aye? Dinner can wait a few minutes."

Despite having a terrible temper and being completely and utterly impatient... Alfie Solomons was an incredibly gentle and tender nurse. Stern. Always stern. And teasing. And scolding. But gentle above all else. You winced and shed a small tear when Alfie poured the clear and horrendous smelling alcohol on your wound. He tutted and kissed your temple all the while telling you, "Maybe this'll teach you eh? Nothing like a war would to make you more smart about your surroundings."

You thanked your lucky stars you didn't need a stitch at all. Despite the blood it was really a shallow cut. Alfie wrapped your hand skillfully. Pressing a kiss right over the bandage as the final salve. As you whispered a chaste thank you, Alfie pulled you into his chest saying, "Now listen my dove. I don't like to baby you. You are a grown woman and I'm not one to tell woman how to conduct herself or her affairs. But I get worried about you. Always drifting off somewhere in that pretty head. Not watching yourself. Not wanting help. You have got to let me help you my darling. Yeah?"

You nod, kissing him to assure him that you are ok. He chuckles kissing you back. Pushing you to the dining room chair he teases you further, "Now my dear patient, it is imperative that you sit there and keep that hand elevated. Lots of rest of relaxation yeah?"

"Alfie! I have to finish dinner!"

"No I'm sorry treacle but it is the doctor's orders! Can't have you losing a finger next can we?"

You laugh and argue with him, eventually get him to compromise to allowing you to fill a pitcher with water and set the kettle on. No matter what the others of Camden said, they could never say that he wasn't a good man.

[charliehoennam]

A/N: fulfilling @j23r23's request made here. Happy reminder that requests are open!!

Summary: Alfie comes homes late at night and finds his pregnant wife sleeping on the couch and confesses his fear to his unborn child

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader

Warning: sexual connotations towards the end, language, pregnancy themes

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Alfie was never one to be easily scared. He had a tough upbringing and, being the man of the house to his two older sisters, Rebecca and Debora, and their divorced mother, he had to grow up fast.

His father had left before Alfie was even born, leaving his son to become the only man of the house.

Sure, his mother was quite the mama bear herself. But there had always been resentment from Alfie towards his unacquainted father for leaving his mother to fend for her children on her own.

Alfie vowed that, if he ever became a father, he would support and help the mother of his child however he could, no matter how unconventional.

You felt like the luckiest woman in the world to be married to him. Alfie was nothing like most men. Most men would participate very little in these affairs, believing them to be limited only to women, but not Alfie. And if anyone dissed him for it, he'll tell those cowards to fuck right off because he wouldn't leave you alone in one of the most painful moments of your life.

It wasn't very common for you either. Part of you was so worried about just having him present for the birth. You worried he wouldn't want to go anywhere near you after it - obviously after you've healed - or have another child.

"Love, after the war I've seen, there is no amount of blood that can scare me away. Now, I won't pry if you don't want me to, of course. I'll respect whatever boundaries you have. But I would like to be there to hold your hand at the very least," he'd say.

He was hellbent on getting you all the best doctors and only the most experienced midwives to assist with pregnancy and the labor.

He didn't avoid making love to you because you were pregnant. It surprisingly turned him him on, made him certain about getting a baby back into you as soon as he could.

Every night, he came home to you with your favorite sweet and treated you to a warm bath together entitled to a foot rub and back rub just before bed.

Every afternoon, he'd meet you exactly at 3 when the weather wasn't too sunny or cold for a walk around the square or the block.

Every morning, once it became harder for you to bend over, he'd kneel down every time to get your heels on for you and compliment how beautiful you looked.

Regardless of the arguments you'd have, he was always consistent with his help. It didn't matter how he felt, he put his feelings aside as he reminded himself that they were nothing compared to the human growing in your body.

Your unborn child had reminded him of his sisters struggles during their terms. Crying over their husbands' affairs, neglected and alone, desperately wondering how they would raise the child. He was only a boy at the time, but he made sure to remember their names.

Once older and stronger, he tracked down all the men responsible for breaking his sisters' hearts and punished them with a beat-down they'd never forget. He considered offing them, but he figured the very least they could do is provide financial support. So, before they could even speak right or breathe through a healed nose, he put them into jobs his contacts proposed especially to him in order to keep a close on them.

That was simply Alfie's nature. Protective and vengeful.

Despite barely having to lift a finger for anything ever since Alfie hired an entire team to assist you, your body still felt exhausted and heavy from the weight of the growing baby in your belly.

You found yourself sat on the couch with Cyril snoring peacefully at your feet, warmed by the crackling fireplace before you.

You wanted to lie in your bed and rest your swollen feet in the comfortable warmth of your cotton linens, but Alfie still wasn't home. You worried when he got home late.

It took one look at the winding wooden stairs to convince you to swing your legs up on the couch, stretching them over the plush cushions.

Closing the heavy book in your hand, you tucked it snug between your side and the back of the couch for a quick shut-eye.

When Alfie arrived home, he tried to be as quiet as possible. He wasn't sure if you'd gone to bed, but he did know you had trouble sleeping without him. Your limited sleep positions were nothing as comfortable as snuggling up to his side.

Locking the door, he hung up his coat and hat. Just before he could make it to the first step of the stairs, he heard Cyril's snoring coming from the living room. That's when he noticed the light radiating from the fireplace, dancing against your skin as you slept soundly.

He stood in the door watching you for a moment, basking in the image of your sleeping frame. The warmth of the fireplace could not compete with of that which spread through his chest.

Alfie smiled to himself as he gazed upon you, his eyes admiring every crevice and hair on your face. The line of your nose, the eyelashes you'd bat at him, the shape of your lips and the faint curve of your smile lines. He loved knowing he'd been the main cause of those particularly.

But, as his gaze moved down to your protruding belly, he was reminded how close the day was. He wondered how the months flew by so fast.

He felt like he had so much time to prepare for fatherhood, but he felt just as hopeless as when you first told him about the baby.

Stepping into the living room, he walked over quietly to join Cyril on the floor in front of the couch.

He stared into the fireplace as cyril shifted to rest his head on Alfie's lap - his laziest greeting yet.

Alfie sat on one side, leaving his opposite leg bent to rest his arm over his knee. Your belly was just inches away.

Moving his gaze back your clothed bump, he sighed heavily.

"You know, I never met my father, right," he whispered to the unborn child. "I think it's wise you know that now, 'fore you come out. Didn't have one growing up, see? So I 'avent got the slightest idea of how to be one."

Lured from your nap by Alfie's voice, you slowly blinked your eyes open. Although Alfie's head of hair was all you saw, you realized he wasn't talking to you and he couldn't see you were awake.

Eavesdropping wasn't very polite, but you couldn't help yourself. You didn't want to stop him, but hearing him to the baby in you was quite heartwarming so you decided to let Alfie have a bonding moment of his own.

"Truth is you got me downright scared," he continued. "Even after months, I still am downright terrified and you ain't even 'ere yet... I know it's a lot to ask, yeah, especially since you're still in there, blissfully unaware of the horrors of the world. But I give you my word I'll try my best to be the best for you and your mum. I hope you can understand that even when you decide to hate me whenever I give you an earful. Though I doubt I can do it. Think your mum will have to sort you out," he mumbled with a playful smirk. "I'll try my best for you, yeah? I just hope it's enough."

Alife's smirk faded as she gazed at your belly. He felt pathetic, venting to an unborn child as if that would solve all his problems. Alfie hated admitted, and he would never admit it to anyone but you, but he was terrified of becoming a father.

You didn't blame him; you had your own fears as well, so you could understand why this precious and fragile life had him so frightened.

He still hadn't noticed you were awake or that you had heard his confession. Until you lifted a hand to stroke the hair on the back of his head.

" 'eard all that, did ya?"

He didn't exactly blush, but he did feel warmth racing around his face with embarrassment.

"You're going to be a great father, Alfie" you answered. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But as long as we're together and we have each other, we can get through anything."

"Yeah, I know, love," Alfie nodded and sighed. He hated talking about his emotions, even if it was to the only person he could trust blindly. "I just don't want to be a disappointment like my father, if you could even call 'im that much."

"You won't be, and I'll tell you why. You're nothing like him," you smiled, carding your fingers through his brown locks. "You're a good man, Alf. I know you do what you have to do out there, but what matters to me is the man you are in here. And in here, you're a good man. And I wouldn't want to be carrying anyone's child. I'm honored to be the mother of our babe."

"You really mean that?" he smiled trying to look over his shoulder at you, as far as his neck - and age - allowed.

"Every word. You're worried enough to ask your sisters and the midwives for help, Alf. Not many men care to even worry about that sorta thing."

"I'm not like most men," he smirked feeling a sense of pride. "How'd you know about that though?"

"Becca told me you been meeting her for tea every week for advice."

"I fucking knew it. I knew she'd blabber off to you," he chuckled shyly.

"It's nothing to ashamed of, love. I actually find your level of concern and willingness to help in whichever way extremely attractive," you smirked stroking the sensitive skin on his neck with your finger.

"Do you now?" He grinned mischievously knowing exactly where this was headed. One of the perks that came with your pregnancy, in the later stages of it, was the sharp peak of sexual desires.

There were no more worries about you getting pregnant - too late for that now - and seeing your belly swollen, with his child that he put inside you, only made him wish he could put more and more.

"I think I like where this is headed."

[zablife]

Imagine Johnny Defending You

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Warnings: language, injury, mention of blood, domestic violence (not with Johnny), fighting

Read the prequel

It was past midnight when you limped into an unfamiliar bar, torn jacket, split lip and blood dripping from your hairline. The whole room seemed to come to a stand still as bikers and their ladies stopped to stare.

Kathy was the first to approach you, a warm smile radiating toward you as she gently asked, "Did ya take a spill, sweetheart?" She could tell from your trembling body and the sharp look of fear in your eye it was something more than that, but didn't want you to have to say it out loud.

You nodded numbly, wrapping your arms around your body to conceal the Renegades patch that now hung somewhere near your elbow. Brucie's keen eye had already spotted it though and he leaned in to advise Johnny. You were the girl who'd been here six months earlier on the arm of that rebellious kid wanting to join up, he was certain of it.

Dropping his cigarette into an empty beer bottle, Johnny narrowed his eyes at you, scanning your features carefully.

For a moment you worried he was considering throwing you out. However, before he could pass his judgement, Kathy extended a hand to you proclaiming, "We gotta get her cleaned up."

The words still lingered in the air as the roar of several bike engines rattled the windows by the pool table, your body jolting at the sight and sound of your ex boyfriend and half a dozen Renegades approaching like hungry lions.

Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Johnny who turned to ask, "Friends of yours, darlin'?"

Fingertips tracing your throbbing, bloodied temple, you gritted your teeth as you spat, "Fuck, no."

As Kathy supported your elbow she whispered hoarsely, "That the guy who did it?" and you only nodded as your eyes fell to the floor.

Johnny pursed his lips as he nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, that's all I need to know." He motioned for Corky and Wahoo to follow as his boots thudded toward the exit, readying for a confrontation.

As expected, the kid was the first to meet him by the front door, an incredulous look on his face when he realized he was being denied entry.

"Take one more step toward that door and I'll knock your teeth out," Johnny informed him, Vandals forming a barrier behind him.

"M not here for a social visit, old man. Just here to get my girl," he persisted.

"Your girl?" Johnny asked, eyebrow cocked in challenge.

"You didn't notice the jacket?" the kid scoffed, turning to his friends with a laugh. "Dunno why the dumb bitch would run into a rival's bar," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Spose that's another lesson she's gotta learn the hard way," he said with a shake of his head, striding forward defiantly.

Johnny sprang forward to attack before the Renegades could react, fist connecting with the kid's jaw in quick succession until he heard a sickening crack. The boys behind him scattered in fear as the kid fell onto the pavement with a low groan.

Johnny circled him, rubbing his fist as he loomed overhead. "You know, I think you're the slow learner cause I made myself clear the first time you came around you ain't welcome here," he gritted out. Chest heaving in anger, he looked down at the boy writhing in agony, imagining what it must have been like for the girl inside. Leaning down to grasp at the collar of the denim Renegade's jacket, he hauled him to his feet, gaze scouring the fabric in disgust.

Shoving the kid into the side of the building hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs, Johnny's voice hovered at a threatening growl as he added, "And just so you know, these jackets don't make you my rival, cause you're just a fucking kid. But beatin' the shit out of a woman does." He tightened his hold until he could feel the kid's limbs twitching, mouth spluttering a bloody trail of saliva down his arm before he shoved him aside.

“Get the fuck outta here. What kind of piece of shit are you?,” he spat, wiping his arm on his shirt. He turned to Zipco and Corky instructing, “Clean him up and get him outta here."

When Johnny walked back inside, he found you pacing the floor nervously.

"He ain't gonna bother you no more," he declared resolutely. "We had a little chat and I uh...explained that to him."

You paused all movement and Johnny squinted at you in uncertainty until you threw your arms around his neck in gratitude. Raising his large hand to your back slowly, he patted between your shoulder blades cautiously until he spied Kathy giving him an encouraging nod.

"No one's ever done anything like that for me before," you cried into his shoulder.

"Well, then you deserve a helluva lot more," he assured you softly, pulling you in close to absorb the little sobs shaking your body. He wrapped you in his arms, placing one hand around your waist and lacing the other in your hair.

Comforted by his steady breathing, you inhaled a few deep breaths as well, observing his unique scent of cologne mixed with cigarette smoke and a hint of motor oil.

As the juke box began to play a slow song, he swayed you gently to the music and you nearly fell asleep on your feet. It was a soothing moment of safety you never wanted to end. Luckily you didn't have to because you went home with Johnny that night and never left.

[beah388love]

Silent Treatment

18+ Minors DNI!!!

Full Masterlist Legend Masterlist

Pairing: Reggie Kray x Fem!Reader (nicknamed bee)

Summary:Reggie accidentally hurts you…

Warnings: swearing,fighting,punching,slapping,blood,broke glass,injuries,crying!!! (Please tell me if I missed any!!!)

Im not gonna lie I don’t even know how this fight started.

I think it was about some business deal or something stupid but it escalated quickly…

“You’re a fuckin Disgrace mate.” Reggie yelled at Ron

“You fuckin cunt! cunt!” Ron yelled as he slapped Reggie across the face.

“Ron! No. Ron! Stop!” Reggie yelled back punching him in the face and ducking when Ron punched back.

Ron grabbed a Wine bottle and held it up. “Ron! No! No that’s a bottle! Ron.” Reggie yelled as he held up a finger at him.

Ron screamed as he lunged at Reggie, bottle in hand still.

“Fuck! Ron!” Reggie yelled as he grabbed the bottle off of him.

Ron screamed as he bit Reggie’s hand, reg yelling as he punched him again.

“Fuckin! Wanker!” Reggie yelled pushing Ron off of him and “Reggie!” You yelled trying to get his attention and that’s when he threw the bottle directly at you.

You screamed, as the bottle smashed into pieces, luckily you held your arm up, but now your arm was bleeding and you had cuts scattered all over your face.

Reggie stood there in shock, “right that’s enough!” Albie yelled holding his arms out between the brothers.

You wiped the blood off of your lip, looking up at Reggie.

You stared at him with a blank expression before walking to the bar, grabbing a glass of wine and your purse and leaving the club.

“Y/n- I-“ Reggie stuttered

“enough reg. Mate.” Albie said holding his hand out.

“C’mon help me up.” Ron asked looking up at reg.

And he shook his head as he held his hand out and Ron pulled him down on top of him.

“Fuck sake Ron!” Reggie shouted

“Im very sorry.” Ron said and reg nodded

“It’s okay. Are you done?” Reggie huffed

“Is she gone.” Ron asked looking around the club

“Yes. She’s gone mate.” Reggie sighed

“She’s a keeper.” Ron said and Reggie stood up.

“Yes. Thanks mate” Reggie said patting him on the chest before wiping the blood off his face.

“Albie! Take care of Ron!” Reggie yelled as he ran out of the club.

Run in down the road to find you.

Fuck it was late, there were weirdos about.

“Fuck!” Reggie yelled as he kicked a wall in anger when he saw no sign of you.

———

The next morning.

“there she is.” Reggie said pointing to you through the car window screen.

“Yeah. I got her.” Albie said as he followed you through the market.

“All right, stop here.” Reggie said as albie pulled the car over.

“That girls gonna be the death of me.” Reggie said as he got out the car.

“Mind how you go.” Albie said before he shut the door.

“Bee. Bee. Excuse me sorry, ” Reggie said as he pushed past people as he tried to catch up with you.

He ran up next to you, “I need to have a word with you about something.”

You didn’t reply.

You were beyond pissed and he knew it.

You were always mad but this was the angriest you had ever been before.

You was so mad you didn’t even yell.

“Bee? C’mon…talk to me?” Reggie said as he walked faster when you did.

“Bee? Please can we forget last night. Let’s restart.” Reggie said walking in front of you.

And that’s when he saw your cut up face.

He didn’t even want to think about what your arm looked like.

“I- I didn’t mean to- it was-“ Reggie stammered and you huffed walking past him quickly and he followed you.

“We- we can forget everything that’s bad right? And we can just keep everything that’s good?” He said and you shook your head walking quickly and leaving the market.

And he still followed after you.

“Silent treatment? Really?” Reggie huffed behind you and you rolled your eyes.

You headed towards your house door and quickly knocked.

“Bee! Please talk to me? We need to talk!” Reggie said walking towards you but luckily Tommy answered the door and you rushed in.. “Bee? What happened to your face?!“ Tommy asked worried

You was about time walk away but Reggie grabbed your arm making you yelp in pain.

Billy came out after hearing shouting “Bee Are you alright?” He asked you and you shook your head

“Fuck! I didn’t mean to-“ Reggie was cut off by you running upstairs.

“What did you do?!” Tommy shouted at him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her- I” Reggie said running his hand through his hair.

“You did that!” Tommy yelled and Reggie punched the skin between his brows.

“I didn’t mean to it was a fuckin accident!” Reggie yelled.

“Oi! Get inside” Billy said to Tommy and he glared at Reggie before waking away.

“Reg, I don’t know what happened but I suggest you leave and leave her alone for a couple hours” Billy said sternly to Reggie and he rubbed the back of his neck and nodded.

Billy shut the door and hurried to your bedroom.

“Bee? What happened?” He asked knocking on your door.

“I’m coming in okay?” He said and walked in, you was laying on your bed holding your face into your pillow.

“Talk to me?” He said and you nodded

“Reg and Ron had a fight..and reg threw a wine bottle at me…” you said removing the pillow from your face and he sucked in a breath.

“Please don’t be mad at him. It really was an accident I promise.” You said to him honestly and he sighed.

“Promise?” He asked holding his pinky out and you shook it.

You never broke pinky promises.

“Alright, this is his last warnings though” he warned and you nodded.

“Tommy said something about your arm?” Billy said scared to see the injury.

You gently pulled your sleeve up and he sighed again.

“That looks..painful.” Billy said looking at your bruised,bloody arm.

“It is.” You rolled your eyes making him laugh.

“Ronnie and Johnny are not gonna like this.”

“Please don’t tell them yet” you pleaded and he sucked in a breath and nodded.

———

The next day.

Reggie was stood outside your house. Knocking on the door.

The house was empty besides you.

You opened the door sucking in a breath.

“Bee…I’m sorry please listen to me.” Reggie pleaded waiting to see if you’d shut the door but you didn’t.

“It was an accident! It won’t happen again! I would never hurt you. Well I did- but it was an accident! I didn’t-“ Reggie rambled on and you had a small smile watching him.

“God, please say something! Yell at me! Anything I don’t care just say something.” Reggie said looking at you sadly.

“You’re a real prick.” You said and he relaxed.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry” he said opening his arms and you hesitantly hugged him, relaxing into his embrace.

He rested his face into your hair, smelling your comforting scent.

“I love you so fucking much it hurts. How can I make it up to you?” He asked sniffling.

And you smiled into his chest.

“Babysit with me this Friday?” You asked and he nodded “I don’t think Tommy likes me”

“Then you can bond with him” you said smiling raising your eyebrows. Making him laugh.

“And you might wanna talk to my brothers…they do not like you right now” you said and Reggie sighed nodding.

“Yeah I’m already planning that..”

Your brothers forgave him with a last warning.

And Tommy and Reggie grew a little bit closer.