#forrest bondurant fic

[angel-inked]

When they listen to music

Where words fail, music speaks 🎶

*This took longer to write than I expected 😅, but enjoy*

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @mollybegger-blog @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @inkwolvesandcoffee @potter-solomons @liliac-dreamer

3AM.

There's something therapeutic about the wee hours of the morning. It's like listening to music in a dark room at midnight. Feeling like you're the only person awake in the world, like everything is at a standstill. Tommy has been roaming the streets of Pittsburgh since 3AM, with his army green massager bag slung over his shoulder. The insomnia didn't help.

He figured the cause of it to probably be paranoia, whether it came from his time in Iraq or from Paddy's alcohol fueled mood swings was hard to say. That's how he got that split his eyebrow. Shortly after he turned sixteen, he was minding his own business when Paddy whipped around and punched him. He remembers waking up in a hospital bed to the sound of his mother's crying. That was the first and last time one of Paddy's beatings sent somebody to the emergency room. Tommy fled with his mom soon thereafter.

His dad's wedding ring was what cut into him, he figured, stitchs cause the bleeding wouldn't stop. He scratched at the scar, hell, just thinking about it, made it itch. Pressing the volume rocker on his phone to turn the music in his headphones up a notch, a vague attempt to take his mind off of his father. He had a vice of keeping his headphones in, even if he was being spoken to. Heh, mom always told him off for that...

It relaxed him.. to a degree. Sitting on a bench, staring out at the water of the Allegheny River, no one around, music in his ears. The sun was just barely on the horizon. People would be flooding the streets soon, and thus, his serenity would be ruined, but for now, he was peaceful.

Let's dance!!!

"So, what culinary delights will tickle the pickle tonight?" Eddie Brock asked into what looked like an empty apartment, and got no answer, except a dark snicker in the back of his head, in a voice that wasn't his own. "Not like that, you perverted para-" Venom forced Eddie's mouth shut, producing inky black tendrils from Eddie's back to help rifle through the kitchen cupboards.

Eddie sighed, realizing he'd have to go grocery shopping soon. "What is this?" The symbiote asked, holding a box in front of their host. "Mac and cheese," Eddie answered, "that'll do." He added, reaching over to turn on the radio before he began searching for a pot to boil water in. Not the end of the world by Katy Perry came on, and Eddie started to sing along to it.

"It's not the end of the world, no, not the end of the world. Throw on your fancy attire, fears in the fire. Don't lose hope"

Venom materialized their head, floating just behind Eddie, turning on the stove top with helpful tentacles.

"A fortune teller told me the power's in your mind. You might see a cliff, but I see a way to fly. Flipping off the flop, now I just enjoy the ride, just enjoy the world. Yeah, I just enjoy the ride"

Eddie continued his singing as he hauled himself up on the edge of the counter to wait for the water, swinging his legs back and forth to amuse himself. Venom bobbed their head to the beat and swayed their tentacles to the rhythm.

"You can make a wish even on a satellite, on a plastic lash or anything you like! You can tame a dragon if you're not afraid to fight, not afraid to fight, no, not afraid"

Eddie smiled, hopping off the counter and into a full body spin as he joined Venom's spur of the moment dance.

"It's no funeral we're attending, actually, just the beginning. Throw on your fancy attire, fears in the fire. Don't lose hope!"

As the song faded out, Eddie and Venom shared a laugh. Suddenly, the pair of unlikely partners heard a hissing sound, "Oh shit!" Eddie exclaimed, rushing over to the stove as the water boiled over. Immediately regretting his decision to grab the pot lid without a potholder. "Ow!" He yelped, thankful Vemon was in a good mood today as the burning sensation dissipated quickly. Vemon adjusted the lid before looking down at Eddie's crumpled position on the floor, leaning back against the floor level cupboards, "idiot." Vemon's voice rumbled.

Eddie scoffed, "Yeah, you could say that again!".

Opera debacle

"Yeah, but opera's not fuckin' singin' is it!" Alfie exclaimed. Your husband has been rattling on for.. You're not actually sure, a couple hours at least, and Tommy Shelby looks about done with him. Then again, when is he not?

"It's not singing. It is the sound that people make before words." Alfie sounds like he's arguing with someone, but he's the only one speaking. Lizzie Shelby looked at you from her chair, confusion etched into her features. You were surprised when Tommy showed up with his wife on his arm, him claiming that she wished to meet you in person, not that you had any qualms about her. It just wasn't often Tommy was accompanied by anyone other than his brothers.

Lizzie hadn't met Alfie until now, probably for good reason, if you asked Tommy. Judging by that look she was giving you over her cuppa, this was not what she expected. You leaned toward her, "Let him go," you whispered, "he'll run out of puff or get to whatever Tommy came for sooner or later." You smiled quietly. Tommy, on the other hand, quietly smoked his cigarette on the couch as he waited for Alfie to get to the actual point of the meeting.

"I always knew opera was just a bunch of fat people fucking shouting!" Alfie exclaimed, pulling the needle off the record and effectively silencing the gramophone. He moved to one side of the room, glaring at the floor. Finally, he went back to his seat.

Groaning as he sat down, resting his chin on a closed fist for a moment, "Bah!" He griped, waving off nobody. "Are you done, dear?" You asked, beginning to think maybe you should have let your spouse wake up naturally instead of waking him up yourself, considering how grumpy he's been since then. Alfie stared at you, scrunching up his face with a soft grumble.

"Am I done? Done with fuckin' what?" He questioned, throwing his hands up in confusion.

Songbird.

Garden trowel in hand, you covered the last of the seeds you had in hand with earth. You crossed your ankles for support as you straightened and popped your back, sighing with satisfaction at the feeling as tiredness set in. You and your fiancé had been planting all day, "you alright love?" Farrier asked, kissing the top of your head before kneeling next to you.

"Just tired," you smiled, "lot of work this, but it's worth it.". "Aye," Farrier agreed, finishing off his cigarette. A smirk appeared on his face, "I know how to make this more fun." He explained. "How?" You asked, slightly concerned about what he had in mind. "singing," he suggested. "Sing what?" You giggled. "Dunno." He smiled back at you.

Farrier stood, making his way over to the water tap, connecting the hose. You heard him start singing lowly to himself, something in french that you couldn't understand. "Is that a war song?" You questioned with a smile on your face. "In a way, more for ceremonies and the like." He explained. Farrier continued his song, like a songbird sat on the windowsill early in the morning, soaking in the golden rays of the sun and singing its juaty toon given way to dawn. You were more than content to lose yourself in the sound of the voice of your loved one.

Rock n' Roll

Forrest had always been the odd man out when it came to music taste. Howard and Jack just about always had bluegrass or country on the radio, Howard even listened to swing when the urge struck him. Sure, Forrest is not really a jazz man, and he liked bluegrass and country well enough. It's what he was raised on after all, but rock ballads are more his speed and occasionally some classical.

Slow and rhythmic, in a word, relaxing. Forrest didn't often give the old record player in his office the time of day, but when he did, like right now, it's probably best off you leave him alone. As this usually meant it had been a hard day, and he had no interest in being bothered, as Howard and Jack found out the hard way, as usual.

That was probably why Howard was currently standing in front of you in the small, dimly lit hallway. Giving you a very puzzled look with his somewhat brushy eyebrows looking like they were desperate to touch each other. "Where are you goin'?" He asked, eyeing the pair of iced glasses, bottle of bourbon, and the book you were holding. "Forrest' office." You replied simply, trying to sidestep past the eldest brother. Howard stepped in front of you, his tall 6'1" figure looming over you.

He glanced over his shoulder at the door his previously mentioned younger brother was behind, "I'm not so sure that's the best place to be headed right now." He explained, scratching the back of his neck. "He's expecting me, now move out of the way!" You grumbled, slightly annoyed with him. You were tired and It's been a long day for everyone, but luckily for Howard, you have a bit more patience than Forrest does.

Howard finally allowed you to pass and disappeared into the barroom. You pushed open the door, Forrest looked up at you as you shut the door behind you. You sat one of the icey glasses down in front of him, pouring the bourbon you knew to be a favorite of his. "Thank you." Forrest mumbled, turning back to his ledger. "You're welcome." You smiled, filling your own glass before sitting down across from Forrest and opening your book.

The slow rock and roll pumping out of the record player was the only source of sound in the room as Forrest continued his work, and you enjoyed your book and drink. The both of you quietly enjoying each other's company after a hard day's work, with some lovely music in the background that you both enjoy.

[angel-inked]

I love this 🌲❤️

Fire | Forrest Bonduraunt x gn!reader

anonymous asked: Forrest Bondurant Hey 🖤!! May I please ask for a work using the following prompts for Forrest Bondurant X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: “What? He had it coming”  (Someone talking shit about our mans and reader is like, no you don't??)

summary: he had it coming, you're not to blame and Forrest knows that.

tws: violence, blood, swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Forrest was more than used to people talking about him, insulting him, causing him grief; he was used to it, and he always brushed it off if he knew that it wasn't worth the fight. Most of the time, it wasn't.

Most of the time, it was just someone getting too big for their boots, and that wasn't his fault; so he brushed it off. Usually with little more than a grunt or a growl, followed by him lighting up a cigar or having a shot. But then you came along, and suddenly Forrest had the challenge of keeping your temper in check when someone talked about him or insulted him.

He could be violent when he needed and wanted to be, but you?

You seemed to think that violence was a question, and that the answer you were looking for was yes. Word soon spread that people had to watch their words around Forrest, in case his partner overheard; more than anything, it was the knowledge that if they hurt you, there would be nothing to hold Forrest back.

One person shouting and putting someone in their place wasn't so much scary as much as it was a reminder that common sense still existed. But Forrest's partner?

Nobody would risk that unless they were stupid, refused to believe that Forrest was capable of great brutality, or both. Nobody would dare hurt you - not while Forrest was around. He was scary when he had to be, when he needed to be. When his hand was forced. Forrest's violence was unlike yours; you were uncontrollable and fierce - a red hot fire. Forrest was methodical and cold - a predator lurking in shadows.

You were fire, but Forrest? Forrest was an earthquake.

"I don't get it," the man you were dealing with scoffed, looking over at Forrest. "Why him? He's never gonna give you what you need."

You glared at him, clenching your jaw and balling your fists at your sides. "Because unlike you, Forrest makes me happy."

"How?" He scoffed. "It's not like he can provide you with stability. Or a decent place to live, or-"

You grabbed the back of his head, and smashed it against the table; with his head down, you grabbed a nearby glass, and hammered it against his skull, not caring where the shards went as you sighed heavily and shook your head.

No one was allowed to speak ill of Forrest. He should have known that, and as he sat there, weeping and crying out in agony, you grinned over at Forrest.

He knew immediately what that grin meant, and took his time to come over to you; with his hand on your shoulder, Forrest hummed, and dropped his gaze to your bloodied knuckles.

"What? He had it coming," you shrugged, but Forrest only dropped to his knees, and took your hands in his. "Forrest?"

He was carefully examining them, seeing if the blood belonged to you or to the most recent recipient of your temper; he pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket, gently mopping away the blood as he nodded slowly.

Satisfied that you were not injured. He dropped your hands, and sighed heavily.

"Is he dead?"

"No," you rolled your eyes. "He should be though, the shit he was saying about you."

Forrest cocked a brow, shaking his head. "You need to learn to control your temper."

"I can control it," you told him. "Just not when people talk shit about you."

A sharp growl came from the back of his throat; he was meant to be the one to protect you and to stand up for you. He was meant to be the strong one. Yet you were insistent on protecting him, standing up for him and never backing down. You were as strong as he was.

He liked that, even if he thought that your methods weren't exactly the best way to deal with things. At least you didn't kill him. Licking his lips, Forrest pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and hummed softly as he pulled you up from your chair, leading you away; he let you sit at the kitchen table while he prepared the coffee. He knew how you liked it.

He would have to have been an idiot not to notice that you never drank the full cup when anyone else made it. Even if you were friendly with his brothers, you never finished a cup of coffee made by them. You always left the last three or four swigs.

But when Forrest made it, you always emptied the mug. It made him smile when he was out alone; if he was out chopping wood or doing some other errand. When he was all by himself, he often thought about how you drank coffee.

He thought about how protective you were of him, and how you would always stand up for him, and he would smile then, too. Sure, he wasn't exactly keen on the bloodshed you left behind - but you were definitely a keeper. He knew that.

He put the mug down in front of you and smiled as he sat down beside you. "Hungry?"

You shook your head, taking a swig. "Not yet… I swear, every time you make coffee, it's better than the last time."

Forrest smiled as he nodded slowly. "Hurt?"

You shook your head again. "I don't think so. My hands feel okay… sticky from that cunt's blood, but… okay."

He nodded. "Good."

"I'm sorry," you said quietly. "If I worried you. I just… I don't… I can't stand it when people talk shit about you, and I won't have it."

"You always worry me," Forrest huffed quietly, although the smile on his face was more than evident. Endearment.

You smiled back, wanting to playfully shove him for such a comment but unable to find it in yourself as you brought your legs up to rest on his thighs; you sat back in your seat, sighing contently. "You worry me, too, y'know."

[wandawiccan60]

Why Me?

An Alfie Solomon’s X Sylvia Voltaire(OC) One-Shot

A/N: Hello guys and welcome back to another Alfie Solomons One-Shot. I know it’s crazy to see myself this active again believe me it feels good. But I wanted to come in say this has been the most fun writing I’ve ever had in a while and I really hope I get to every single character of Tom Hardy. I still need to catch up on the other films of his including Lawless which by looking at the small clips of Forrest Bondurant… oh boy is he such a cute man. But as always guys thank you for coming by and reading my fics. Thank you for sharing and liking and I’ll see you all later.

ALFIE SOLOMONS MASTERLIST

Camden Town: 1920’s 

Out of all the places in the entire country of London, Sylvia and her family had no choice but to stay in a place called Camden Town. They weren’t welcome that was for sure. As none residents, gypsies were considered to be nothing but untrustworthy, scum, and the lowest of the low. Knowing that they have to live and remind themselves that was how they were born and raised.

They had a wonderful life back in their hometown in France. There was a piece of land right off the coast, where it was peaceful, safe, calm, and overall where they were far away from the city. Her father Andre, had a job there as a carpenter but he did get little pay for what it was. The amount of money he would win almost went entire to have food on the table. Until one day the owner decided to let him go swing that his business wasn’t making as much as before. And leaving their lovely home behind they ended up in the city across the ocean. 

Even for a family of 6 including Sylvia, it was hard to cope seeing that her mother Kezia, has to take care mostly the baby of the family Kaven. Her two baby sisters Zana and Risa are at the age of heading to their womanhood. Knowing that both of her parents with a heavy heart need to send of their daughters to find good suitors that will take care of them. Sylvia as being the oldest, isn’t fully prepare to have to go with someone she doesn’t even love or know about much. Even for a place like London where everyone wouldn’t even want glimpse her way for one bit. 

Once they arrived to their new home a year ago, It was hard to get use to the amount of new surroundings. The tall grass fields were something to enjoy and being around. Thought the amount of strangers passing by with their automobiles was something that bothered the Voltaire family the most. Even through the year they at one point already got use to seeing many travelers and car machines so many times. Seeing that his father was trying his best to find a job around town, it seemed that he wasn’t going anywhere knowing that he was an outcast.

“Papa, maman, why can’t we just leave this place already?” Said Risa in their French tongue while they had late night dinner around the campfire.

“Because your papá my dear has some news to tell you all, and darling please try to speak your English a bit more,” Kezia said while attending the now 6 month old Kaven in one arm poking around the wood for the fire to still be on.

“My dear Kezia please, let them speak the tongue we have been born to learn,” said Andre to her which she just nodded her head quietly until he gave the big news. “My dear girls, I finally found a new job that will finally help us not go without any food on the anymore. And I will start by tomorrow.���

Risa, Zana, and Sylvia all looked at each other as if his father is telling a lie. 

“Wait papa, are you certain of this? How did you manage to convince the owner of this new job?” Asked Sylvia not believing what her ears are hearing.

“It is true, and the wonderful thing is a bakery which you all know that I use to make some great bread back home. And I wanted to share with you all that I will start tomorrow,” said Andre feeling a lot of hope for such a new opportunity that he has been waiting for so long.

“Papa what wonderful news, but does the owner know that you are well a gypsy?” Sylvia said feeling worried that if the owner of the shop finds out that they are outsiders.

“I only mentioned that we are a family of 6 and that we have been poor for a very long time. He didn’t ask for my background and instead he understood about our situation. He saw me as a human being and not a stranger, and he gave me the job right away,” Andre said though in reality the owner was more then just a simple baker and something that he had to keep to himself.

“We can finally go back home, to our small and beautiful beach again,” said Risa having an excited smile on her face knowing that she had enough of this place.

“We will go back home my children, I promise you all that with as much money as I can collect we will go back. But that is all tonight we should all get some rest now, goodnight my girls,” said Andre getting up on his feet while Risa and Zana did the same. 

As every made their way to their individual tents Sylvia heard her name called out by her father.

“Yes father, is there something wrong?” She anxiously said hoping that it was nothing bad.

“Nothings wrong my dear, me and your mother wanted to talk with you alone without the girls being here,” her father said which Sylvia was confused with why she needed to be there alone.

Though Sylvia didn’t want to question it to much she instead took a seat on top of a wooden log. 

“What is it that you and mother want to speak about with me me?” 

Both her mother and father looked at each other without any words. Knowing that what her father will say next will make their oldest daughter upset.

“My lovely dear, promise me that you will not be in what I will say to you next. Just always removed that I and your mother love you with all of our hearts and soul,” Andre said as he placed a gentle hand on top of Sylvia’s left knee which she just stood quiet, “The owner of the bakery requested that if you would like to work for him as his own personal book keeper. And that he would like to meet you tomorrow, I know this sounds much but I also think and pray that maybe this man could be a potential suitor for you. It’ll be a way for you to have a good life for you knowing that we want what’s best you my love.”

“Father aren’t you hearing yourself? You think this man that you just met think he could bring me happiness not knowing if he might have any bad intentions? No, I will not work for him even if the money seems fair but I won’t accept it,” Sylvia said not believing in what she is hearing. 

How could her mother agree to this not knowing what type of men could be dangerous out there especially if they are not gypsy by blood.

“Sylvia please, listen to your father. What if he is right, what if this man could give you everything you could ask for? And not live the way we do? I want also the best for you and for your sisters and Kaven. I don’t want to see any of you continue living like we are doing at this moment. Just go with your father and see the owner for yourself. But don’t forget to always keep your guard up my dear like we have always taught you,” Kezia begged knowing that she didn’t like where this was going but she also hoped for something good to come from this man.

The oldest daughter only sighed in defeat and agreed to go with his father to the bakery. Knowing that whatever this man is offering for her and her father is for good fortune.

****

The Next Morning

Sylvia and her father walked in a busy and noisy street as they made their way to where the bakery was located. From being on the fields for a year long this was more than what she expected. Some horses pulling wagons, men of all ages covered in dust and black powder from head to toe and the smell of coal and steel was in the air. It was a busy morning as they picked up the pace, trying to get to their meeting with the owner of the bakery in time. Sylvia wore something that would look presentable and clean though she ended up wearing one her mothers old black long sleeve dress. Which she was grateful to wear but also it made her look like if she was going to meet her doom. As some time went by they finally made it to the place where Andre knocked on two wooden doors a couple of times. The door was then opened which they were greeted by a young man who was in his mid to late 20’s.

“Mr. Voltaire, I presume yes?” The man asked which Andre took his brown cap off from his head.

“Yes I am he, and I also brought with me my daughter Sylvia. Does your owner want to see us already?” Andre asked while he wiped a bit of sweat that formed in front of his forehead.

“Mr. Solomon’s does want to see you both already. Come in,” said the young man directing them more deeper inside the brown lit shop.

There were mountains of barrels stacked from side of side, the smell of fresh dough being made and oddly enough there was a hint of of rum witching the same smell. Making their way to another pair of wooden doors, there was another long hallway with many men working from one station to another. Until one particular man was making their way towards Sylvia and Andre the one that everyone feared the most throughout the town of Camden.

“Mr. Solomon’s, this is Andre the one who was asking for a job yesterday. He wants to speak with you,” Ollie said which his boss didn’t say a thing until he was standing in front of them.

“Righ’ well Mr. Voltaire, a very good mornin’ to you sir. And yes i would to still go over some discussions with you about the job. And where I me manners, but who is this lovely woman here with you?” Said Alfie looking at his direction towards Sylvia which she just stood quiet but felt warm inside.

“My daughter Mr. Solomon’s, Sylvia Voltaire she is the oldest of the three. I brought her along to see if you wanted to still find someone with who to keep your booking. And I thought my Sylvia would be a good use in your business sir. She might not have the experience but we would be grateful if you can teach her,” Andre said hoping that it would convince Alfie to bring her in.

Alfie was quiet for a moment until he looked at Sylvia’s way looking at her up and down. She didn’t know what else to say or do she only could stay still while the bearded man thought for a moment or two if she looked like a good fit for a place like this. Though something did caught her eye about him, which it was odd to say the least. He seemed grumpy, broad, intelligent, and overall very attractive. Like from the looks of his body structure he seems to know what he does for a living and that this place itself has been booming for quite a while. She also caught a glimpse of his right hand with a small tattoo crown not knowing if it means something or just for display. Feeling like time has gone by so slowly, Alfie then finally spoke up.

“She will do, don’ you worry Mr. Voltaire, Ollie here will teach your daughter what she needs to do with me book keeping’s. Don’t you worry, I know she will be a good helping around here,” said Alfie giving a small smirk at Sylvia which she just bow her head in acknowledgment.

“Thank you Mr.Solomon’s for the opportunity, I promise to be of great use to you and for your work environment. But I also would like to thank you more for giving my father this job, we are grateful to find someone like you sir,” Sylvia said hoping that she didn’t sound very overly thankful.

“It’s nothin’ love and for next time don’t call sir or Mr. Solomon’s. Form now on yea, you will address as alfie and nothin’ more alrigh’?” He said while he liked her already for how polite she is.

As the morning went by, it suddenly became 2 o’ clock in the afternoon. Both Sylvia and her father have seen and learned so much in just almost a whole day. Andre knew what to expect since Mr. Solomon’s told him that he had an underground business that not even the coppers don’t know about. Though it did worry for the safety of Sylvia, and the rest of his family. Wondering if this was the right thing to bring her daughter to such a place and to be part of gangster organization. It was a lot to think for Andre to take in and he didn’t know if he should continue this path or not. 

“Well now you and your daughter can go home for today, but starting tomorrow right’ is when it will get serious. And Mr. Voltaire is it possible if I could have a word alone with Sylvia,” Alfie said to which Andre felt nervous to be asked such a question but he did agree.

Sylvia and Ollie didn’t mind what time of day it was, as they were mostly bust sorting papers and writing down on the big note books. She did manage to learn quickly right away seeing that it was just writing many sorts of name items and to calculate how many sales were being sold. Knowing that she didn’t speak much English and her reading wasn’t the best, Sylvia was determined to not give up on this opportunity. Knowing that this will help not only for herself but for her family as well even if it means that she needs to stay some long nights. While she tried to know what papers have to properly be placed on the door to the small office was opened seeing her father in the entrance. 

“Sylvia, umm… Mr. Solomons would like to have a moment with you,” Andre said to her in their native tongue which she looked confused but she didn’t ask another word.

Once they made it to Alfie’s office, which the oldest daughter was a bit confused as to why Alfie needs tor see her. Though once inside, he saw him sitting on the side of his big long desk filled with many piles of papers, the smell of whiskey, and dust above the atmosphere. He didn’t notice their presence right away, as Andre ands Sylvia walked up in front of the desk.

“Ah, righ’ Sylvia. I would like to speak to you about your position here in me bakery. It’s nothing bad if that’s what you are thinking love, but please have a seat,” Alfie said standing up on his feat and guiding the gypsy girl to sit.

She looked back at her father for a moment, which he just gave her a look of reassurance and that everything is fine. Though Andre and Alfie did have a talk earlier about having to bring Sylvia to this business. But it is something that Alfie himself that should tell her and it gave Andre some hope.

“I’ll leave you both alone, I’ll wait for you outside my dear,” said Andre lastly making his way out of the room hearing the door closed shut.

“You’re wondering why I need here alone with me love, and I’ll explain everything in a moment. But firstly righ’, what do you think of this job overall?” Alfie then asked taking his seat once more letting out a low sigh grunt.

“Well it is quite easy actually, however even if my English isn’t very well and my reading is a bit low I don’t see why I should not stop coming here and learn more. I honestly am doing this for my father and my family, we have been poor for a year. We had to leave home from France because well, my fathers old job wasn’t doing no good, and that is why we are here in London. Faith has always been on our side and I believe fate has come to us so quickly because of you Alfie. And I want to say again that we are very grateful that you accepted us as hard workers and not something else,” Sylvia said while Alfie listen to everything that almost what Andre said to him and he knew that this family was in need to help.

“I am sorry to hear that love, I can’ imagine that you all had to move across the ocean to land here. But I also want to say this. Your father and I have come to an agreement about you being here in me bakery, but promised him that I’ll be keeping an eye on you including my partner Ollie. As you can see yea, there are many men in this place as you have noticed. However, yea, if they ever try to lay a finger on you even give you the eye to your way, they are fuckin’ dead and will never see the light of day ever again. I know it sounds harsh for you but it is a promise that I am keeping for yous and your dear old father. How does that sound to you lass?” Alfie said seeing Sylvia’s facial expression change to confusion.

“Wait, my, my father told you all about us, but why would you try to help us?” Sylvia said trying to understand why her father would mention about everyone in the family.

“Your father asked for a favor he feels that if you are around with me you will be safe. And I could be very protective when it comes to having women around in me shop. But you don’t have to worry about that love, and well you all seem to be good people and I have been at my lowest before and I know how that life is like. However righ’, you and your family are under me eyes now starting tomorrow and showing you my humbleness towards you all and you deserve it,” alfie said in the end giving a small smile at Sylvia which she did return the smirk.

“Thank you Alfie, but how can we repay you back? This is just so much to take in.”

“No need to my dear, besides a pretty woman like you is worth saving and having around,” he added to which Sylvia could only blush at his comment.

“Again thank you Mr. Solomons. I mean, Alfie, but I will see you in the morning along with my father. But may I ask you a question and don’t take this in a wrong way. Why me and not another woman?” She asked knowing that there is more girls out there that would interest Alfie more than her.

“Is that really a question to ask treacle? You want to know the truth of why I see something in you than any other woman in this town?” He said standing up on his feet once again resting his hands on top of his hips while Sylvia felt a lump forming in her throat seeing while she sat still. “Because you’re different, and I like to know who you really are truly Sylvia Voltaire. And well, maybe if you would like to go out sometime to dinner with me if that’s what you wish for that is.”

Sylvia had nothing much to say but she stood quiet for a moment. Her fathers boss is asking her for dinner and wants to get to know her better is something out of this word. No man has ever said such a thing to her before until now. Especially Alfie that was not of gypsy origin but is willing to have some interest in her and wanting to get to know her better. 

“Oh… well Alfie I don’t know what to say about all of this. I mean you are the first man to ask me out which that has never happened to me before. Though may I have to think about this, its just its soon to say but I need a moment to give you my word,” she then said hoping that it didn’t bother Alfie for one bit.

But to her surprise, Sylvia didn’t expect to what Alfie had to say next.

“No love please, by all means have all the time that you need. And your righ’, I’m sorry for askin’ out of nowhere. Please forgive me for sounding like an eager prick,” Alfie said knowing that this was a bad idea to ask in the first place.

“No Alfie, you should not apologize its just… you asked me so politely and I think that’s very attractive coming from you,” she said without thinking wishing she could take back what she just said right now.

“Did I now? Well I am flattered to be your first then love. But you should head home now, yea. I’ll see you both here again tomorrow morning. Is it alright if I could escort yous out? If that is fine with you of course?” Alfie said while Sylvia was caught with surprise again.

Is this man gone out of his head???…

“I. Well… yes that would be lovely thank you Alfie,” Sylvia said without stopping herself to which Alfie nodded his head.

As they both made their way outside of the entrance, both Alfie and Sylvia exchanged their last goodbyes. While doing so, she extended her hand out to Alfie both of their hands were clasp together. 

“Thank you again Alfie, and see you soon again,” she lastly said feeling her hand against his larger hand feeling butterflies fluttering inside her stomach.

Once they shook hands, she made her way to where her father was waiting, as Alfie looked on seeing Sylvia leave. She then looked back for a moment, giving a small smile towards his way to which he did the same without noticing it himself. 

This will be something exciting to look forward to… and I hope it is for the best….

****

Margate: Two Years Later

Waking up to the sound of the ocean waves was what Sylvia have missed for so long. She never thought she would be close to the sea ever again, but it has finally come true once again. And that was all on Alfie that gave her everything that she could ever wish for. After being at his so call bakery everyday, they both became closer together. And she did ended up going out with Alfie whenever no one was looking or listening especially her father. They did their best to pretend to be just partners from work, but in reality both Sylvia and Alfie started to build a bond together. Having a hard time not wanting to be separated from each other. Whenever he had meetings to attend too or some “errands” to go too, he would tell her to stay for her safety. Though Sylvia did at some point found out that he was this infamous gangster of Camden Town, but it didn’t make her look at him differently. What she cared about the most was the way he cared for her, keeping her safe from harm, and overall being treated like what a girl should be treated. Until now everything was perfect and grateful for everything that this life has given to her and her family. They were given another opportunity to be able to live like actual people, and as for Alfie generosity and humbleness, he did make a propose to Sylvia and her family. 

“Sylvia, wake up, wake up, let’s go down to the seashore again. There are so many sea shells here then we have sene back home. Come on wake up,” Risa exclaimed gently tugging on her sisters right hand which she just grunted in reply. 

“Hmmm, Risa please, its to early in the morning, can’t you wait later in the afternoon,” Sylvia said in a lazy voice, recasting turning her head the other way. 

“Awww your no fun, please sister just this one time. I promise I wont ask you again next time,” she begged again to which Sylvia became quiet for a moment.

“Fine just give me a moment yes?” She mumbled to which she just heard her little sister said “yay” hearing her footsteps fade away.

She suddenly felt a shift on her left side along with a strong arm wrapping around her stomach.

“Good mornin’ my pet,” said a huskily Alfie also trying his best to wake up from his semi sleep.

“Hmm, good morning to you as well my love,” Sylvia said back as they both exchange a long kiss. 

She then wrapped her arms around his strong, broad chest as they press their lips closer together. 

“Sylvia. Come down please,” Zana called out this time, to which Sylvia groaned in annoyance. 

“Well this kiss didn’t last so long as it did last night,” Sylvia joked making Alfie chuckle.

“Well don’t be so disappointed my dove, there is more of that later tonight. I promise you,” he said giving her a cheeky wink 

It was has been almost a year of being together since Alfie asked Sylvia to be hers. It shocked her at first but she knew right away that she found her one true love. Even thought they came from different origins their love for each other was nothing to ignore. Alfie embraced Sylvia’s culture he was even willingly to learn French from her which he had approved very well. As for the rest of her family, they ended up having a home build in Margate next to Alfie’s. Which Andre and Kezia felt nothing but grateful towards Alfie’s knowing that this man was sent from the heavens. They have long for some peace and quiet and they their dreams did came true.

“Come on then love, let’s see what today awaits us ahead yea?” Alfie then asked making Sylvia come back to her senses.

“You lead the way my king.” 

****

[kisswithafic]

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a collection of my favorite fics

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ruescott melshi

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midnight mass

sheriff hassan

the witcher

geralt

hellboy

prince nuada

henry cavill

[rose-like-the-phoenix]

Option B sounds like something I would actually say 🤭

love how you write them ❤️

Could you do the reader reacting to the hardy's saying "you deserve someone better than me" (had my oc in Silenced Fire do this with Forrest and now I want more of it lol 😅 also love you're interpretations as well)

Bob Saginowski

"You know, when I talk to you, I know you're a good person. There ain't a whole lot of good people around here. And I really like you, but when I think about it, you deserve better than me."

Forrest Bondurant

"I care for you, and because of that, I think you gotta move on, find a better man. Cause me, well I ain't worth a pretty lady like you time."

Eddie Brock

"I mean, you're amazing, and I'm a loser. What can I offer someone like you? You deserve better. You deserve more."

Leo Demidov

"I've searched for love for such a long time. And I've found you. But, now I worry, I'm not enough. I can give you my heart, but I don't have wealth to lavish a beauty like you with. How can I be good enough for you?"

Tommy Conlon

"I'm broken. You might not see it, but I'm in pieces. What if I fucking turn into my dad? What if I accidentally hit you? Nah, I rather die than hurt you. You gotta find somebody else, some guy that will really treat you nice."

How would you reply to them??

A. I want you, it's always been you.

B. Shut up, I love you and you can't change my mind.

C. Yeah, you're right. I wonder what Alfie Solomons is doing tonight 🤔

[hardyimagines]

A Crave For Fame

Would love a Forrest piece, maybe where you’re cornered by some bad guy and Forrest steps in and you nurse him. Bandaging his wounds and what not. You get really close to his face and he acts nonchalant about it but you’re really shy. Ends in a heated kiss. Lots of fluff.

TW: Mild Violence

———————————————————————

1932.

The bar smelt like thick liquor and dried throw up. The top of your nose was red and cold from the chilly wind as it whipped around outside swirling in circles, shaking tree branches until they were forced to drop their leaves, whisking up grains of dirt and sending them flying in the direction of those who were outside. It was a dust storm of some sort, that’s what people were referring to it as. The air outside was orange and murky, it looked as if the clouds had descended and were making the world all puffy and one big blur.

The tips of your painted nails slid along the straps of your bright red apron. Unhooking the fabric from the silver hook on the wall, you briefly ogled the peeling paper, crisp and dangling like a hangnail waiting to be ripped off. The apron wasn’t exactly required, but you found that it definitely helped to wear something in order to prevent having alcohol sloshed and spilled and stuck on you when rowdy customers would shake their heavy fists and bounce their heavy, drunk bodies on the counter stools.

Regardless of how many times you wiped down the counter, it always seemed to have a slick, sticky feeling to it and the lemon scent only masked the stench of whiskey and rum for a limited amount of time. The sign outside read ‘Restaurant’ and the sign further forward read ‘Gas station’, and while there was a small supply of gas and a short list of food items on the menu, that wasn’t at all what this place was truly selling.

It was the prohibition era. People were parched and the only way to quench their thirst was by giving them a cold beverage that scalded their throat as it went down. The smooth liquor was rich, bitter, sweet, plain. Everybody had their preference. You weren’t much of a drinker, but pouring beverages was easy enough and from the looks of approval you received all the time, you’d assume you were doing a pretty good job.

Working for bootleggers was never something that had spiked your interest in the past - and maybe it wouldn’t have when you had sauntered up the hill when it was pouring down rain a year ago, but one look at the man had charge had sent you reeling. You didn’t want to work anywhere else.

Forrest Bondurant was one of, if not, the most attractive men you’d ever seen. He had big blue eyes and a head of constantly gelled hair. Why he went through the trouble of styling such a mess, you didn’t know, majority of the time he wore a hat on top of it anyway. He was always strolling around in his big gray cardigan with a button down or another sweater underneath. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d overfilled the shot glasses on the bar and spilled liquor all over your fingers and the counter, just because staring at him was such a distraction. He didn’t notice though, and if he did, he didn’t say anything.

The front door opened with a loud creak, the hinges loudly alerting whoever had just entered that they were in no shape to be handled so roughly. The door swung shut, slamming loudly behind the new guest. His eyes shimmered green and his teeth sparkled white. The man removed his top hat and strode up to the counter with so much confidence you could’ve upchucked. Men like him made you want to spit in their drinks.

“What can I get for you?” You asked, not bothering to stop and give him the eye contact that he was clearly searching for.

“Something light.” The man said. “I won’t be staying long.” He pressed his elbow against the counter, but made no mention of the filth or the stench.

It wasn’t busy yet, but there were always people inside. Either they slept the night at the bar counter, on the floor, at a table, or outside, or they showed up as bright and early as the sun did, ready to start drinking the day away. Most of the customers that tended to be here so long just made their own drinks when you rested. Forrest knew them, you knew them, so there was no harm done. But this man, he was a completely new face.

“Something light as in water?” You said, pouring a shot of water and replacing it with the shot of vodka that one of the men had been drinking. He was green in the face and looked about ready to faint. You knew he needed to be eased off the liquor, you couldn’t just flat out say that - people reacted too differently to know if it would be a threat or not to cut someone’s intake off.

The man snorted. “Why would I come into a bar for a glass of water?”

You arched a slow brow. “The same reason you’d come in and ask for something light - we have liquor, straight from the bottle. It’s not dolled up and pretty, we don’t have any mixers, it’s just straight alcohol.” You didn’t say another word, instead you finally let your eyes flicker to his own, resisting the urge to glare. But your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t have time for games and he was beating around the bush.

The man sighed. “Moonshine.” He said before lowering himself down on the stool. “And maybe a drink of you?” You could hear the amusement in his voice, as if he were positive you’d take him up on his offer. He found himself hilarious.

Turning on the heel of your pointed boot, you wrapped your slender fingers around the neck of the silver bottle. Rotating, you poured a perfect glass of moonshine and then set the glass down in front of him. No spillage. The liquid was filled to the brim. Extending your arm, your palm creased as you curled your finger inward, waiting to be paid.

Instead, the man grasped your wrist and pressed it against the bar counter. “How about you give this one to me for free? Since I don’t see you marching that ass of yours from out behind the counter.” He patted his lap for good measure. “I went ahead and saved you a seat,” He motioned to his thigh again. “but you know, you’re being awful rude.”

Your eyes creased in the corners, stare hardening as the man tightened his hold on your wrist. Forrest was a shout away, but you were a big girl, not some maiden in a tower waiting to be rescued. Attempting to jerk your arm back to yourself, you hissed under your breath when he turned it at an odd angle. All the other men in the room were out old or oblivious. You could scream their names and they probably wouldn’t bat an eye.

You flinched as he began to rifle through his pocket.

“I’ll give you something.” He said, masking the tone of his voice for a more gentle and apologetic one. But you weren’t an idiot, so you didn’t let your guard down. But it wasn’t as if you could just rip your arm away from him. He was insanely strong and you, unfortunately, didn’t get much upper arm strength pouring drinks. Before you could utter a word, he pressed a cigarette against his lips and lit the end. The brownish-orange tip of the stick illuminated with bright orange embers as he inhaled and the smoke lifted from the end of the form of payment.

“Let me go.” You insisted, practically ripping at your arm so hard that your wrist had gone numb from his tight grasp.

“After I pay you.” He said. You didn’t know what to expect, a puff of smoke being blown in your direction? The man pinched the stick with his knuckles, clasping it between his pointer finger and his middle finger. He rotated it swiftly, pinching it then between his thumb and pointer finger. As suddenly as he moved the smoking tip toward your flesh, your eyes flickered with realization. And then you began to squirm.

“Hey..” You pulled harder. “What are you doing?” It was so obvious. But in a panicked state of mind were you expected to speak adequately. “Let me go, please..” Begging was never one of your strong suits. It just didn’t fit you. You hated it, having to ask someone to have mercy on you. But you didn’t fancy smelling burnt flesh, or feeling the pain that would come along with seared flesh. Scream for help, your brain said. You’re a big girl, but you can still ask for help, it reminded you.

The ashes fell from their loose spots on the cigarette, floating across your skin, dusting it with kisses. The ashes gathered on the counter as he lowered the hot tip of the cigarette toward your flexed forearm. Forrest’s name was on the tip of your tongue, but the pink muscle felt swollen and useless. There was a block in your throat that wouldn’t let your voice free and for the first time in a long time, fear surged through you like a whirlwind, resembling the very state of weather outside. Your body ran hot with fear and as you jerked your elbow to the side, the glass of moonshine toppled over and clattered against the floor.

Pieces scattered along the floor as the cup smashed on impact. If that wasn’t enough to lure Forrest out of office, then perhaps your cry of agony would. But the bloke was just a sliver of a second too late. The tip of the cigarette grazed your skin, enough to leave a slight burn, but as quickly as the glass had broken, Forrest had appeared.

He didn’t hover in the doorway to inspect what was going on. Someone had their hands on you and right away, it was unacceptable. The big, burly man strode forward. His thick fingers curled in the caramel flannel that the bastard was wearing. Forrest snatched the cigarette from his pinched fingers and immediately snubbed the lit tip out by pressing the hot surface against the man’s cheek.

The bloke let out a nasty yell, finally releasing your arm. You lifted your hands, on instinct, to cup over your ears, blocking out the sound of his pained shouting as best as you could.

His cry was like a signal though. The doors flew open and three other men piled in. It was rumored that the Bondurant brother’s were all invincible - especially Forrest. He’d survived a lot - brutal attacks, life-threatening illnesses, having his throat slit, his heart broken, wars. But could he take on four men?

Dropping your hands from your ears when the yelling stopped, you crouched down and began to twist the knob on the safe. It was a sixteen digit pin, so it would take a moment to open, but the revolver inside had six bullets, so you be able to wipe out all of the men with that if it came down to it. You weren’t peering over the bar counter to see what was happening. You were scared - terrified. A part of you wanted to leap into your boss’s arms and give him a bear hug, another part of you wanted to hide in those big arms of his and just forget that your arm had almost been burnt to a crisp. Instead, there was just a very small burn. It was nothing to worry over, nothing in comparison to the burn on the man’s face.

“What the fuck are you all standing there for!” The man rasped loudly, clutching his hand to his face as if the skin on skin contact would help him. “Get him!”

All three men moved forward. One was smoking a cigar - very nonchalant as he marched toward Forrest, one was sweating like he’d just ran a marathon, and the other was blinking furiously as if the dust outside had momentarily blinded him.

Forrest stuck his hand in his pocket and used his fingers to make the shape of a gun. The outline was bulky and visible and the three men hesitated, if only for a second. “I’d think very carefully on what you’re ‘bout to do next, boys.” Forrest spoke softly. His voice was quiet, slow. It was silky against your ears.

You poked your head out for half a second, blindly rotating to nozzle all the way to the left - 11, and then all the way to the right, 5. Inputting every single number as quickly as you could, you jumped in fear at the sound of a sickening crack. You jumped up, expecting to see Forrest laying in a heap on the floor, but instead it was just one of the other men. Forrest stood with his bloodied hand hanging at his side. Blood dripped from the brass knuckles he wore, droplets staining the wooden floorboards. Forrest sneered.

“Who’s next?” He inquired. “The man with the cigarette burn, the broken jaw, the blind one, or the sweaty one.” He flexed his fingers for a moment, waiting impatiently for one of them to charge at him.

What he didn’t expect was for the untouched duo to jump toward him at the same time. He sent his fist flying directly into one of their spine’s, but with the help from the bastard who now had a permanent scar on his cheek, Forrest was sent directly down and on to his back. The men tackled him and you trembled on the spot.

Shakily crouching back down, you began to finish off the code. Forrest’s groans of pain were evident. He was rasping, moaning, putting up as much of a fight as he could. He swung his arms and tried desperately to cover his face. Two men grabbed his arms and pulled them apart, leaving his face and stomach vulnerable to their boss.

The man’s cheek was sunken where the hole was forming. His eyes were red and watery and his stance was slightly shaky. But he had the upper hand as he moved forward. His hand dropped to his pocket and without any hesitance, he pulled a knife free from a holster.

“Now then, why don’t I reopen that cut on your throat?” The man sneered, already beginning to crouch down. Forrest’s nose was bleeding, his eye was swollen and purple. You were sure his stomach would be doused in bruises in the morning and his fingers would be cramped, locked, and jammed.

The safe opened with a quiet buzz and you, with an eagerness, desperately grabbed the handle of the gun and stood. Your hold was steady and your aim was perfect. You’d been working here for a little more than a year, and Forrest had taught you how to shoot within your first few weeks.

Extending your arms out, you held the gun steady as you cocked the revolver. “Hey, asshole.” You said breathily. “If you lay one more finger on him, I’ll kill you.” You could tell by the man’s tense back and resistance to look in your direction that he knew you weren’t bluffing. He slowly tucked away the blade and then sucked in a deep breath of air.

“You’re the first group of people to put up such an unnecessary fight. My brother’s and I, this is what we do, free alcohol from the bootleggers and pretty women are an extra bonus.” He snorted before looking in your direction.

You scowled, before demanding. “Leave..” And although you wanted them to, to all just pile out toward the entrance and get the hell out of here, it worried you. What if they came back sometime in the night when everyone was vulnerable and sleeping? Your eyes were distant as you pondered how this would end. You could blow another hole in his other cheek, though that one would be far more deadly. Or you could let them go.

“Forrest..” You whispered. His guidance was definitely a necessity right now. It wasn’t too often you found yourself in this position. The floorboards creaked underneath you as you shuffled your weight from foot to foot. Forrest sat up with a low grumble, clearly trying to hide the fact that he was in pain. He jerked his arms free from the hold the men had had on him and as he began to stand, he spun around and grabbed the back of their necks. Shoving them toward one another so their skulls rammed into each other, he shoved them both to the floor and then retrieved his brass knuckles. Two opponents down, and one more left.

Forrest gave each of them a few extra punches to the face for good measure, wanting them to realize that they truly weren’t a match for the invincible Bondurant. He whirled around to face the last man, the one who thought he could lay a hand on you, the one who thought he could use you as an ashtray and that would be fine.

The man did that to all of the bartenders, marking them in each town he passed through. His real name wouldn’t live on in the history books, but what he’d done would. Who wouldn’t want to read about a man that burned bartenders with a cigarette butt as a form of payment? It made him want to laugh on the spot.

Instead, he dove head first across the bar counter and directly into you. When it came to fight or flight, your reflexes were clearly to just freeze. His body sent yours crumbling to the floor. It was sticky and disgusting because you only mopped on the weekend. You have a sharp cry of pain and fear as he ripped the gun from your hand and pressed the tip against your chin. “Now then,” He sneered down at you. “You didn’t want a cigarette burn, maybe you’d like a bullet wound. I won’t kill you, I need you alive so you can tell the story about me.” His eyes creased with his lopsided grin and his breath - it stunk of peanuts and smoke. He didn’t even take a sip of the moonshine, it sat prettily on the bar, the liquid shaking from all the movement in the bar.

Forrest stepped toward the bar to help you, just as the man jerked you up and to your feet by your hair. Your eyes were opened wide and your eyes were pleading. The barrel of the gun caressed your soft skin, stroking your chin until he dared to move the gun to your lips. You jerked your head away, scoffing under your breath at the audacity of this man. He must’ve thought he was in a movie with the way he was behaving, talking about himself as if one day he’d be some big story. Your watery eyes moved to Forrest. He hadn’t budged. His knuckles were bloody and dripping - his blood or the men’s blood he didn’t know. All he saw was red. He felt hot and irritated, at a loss of control.

“What do you want?” Forrest said. His voice was so monotone. He sounded like he was taking someone’s order for food, not trying to save your life.

The man chortled. “I want you to light a cigarette and put it out on her body. I’ll let you choose where.” The man moved his hand to the back of your neck, roughly pinching it before he shoved you as hard as possible out from behind the bar and in the direction of your boss. He didn’t follow, he kept four feet between himself and the two of you. The gun was cocked and pointed, all he had to do was shoot.

Your feet didn’t cooperate with your mind, especially not after being forcefully sent flying forward. You rammed right into Forrest’s broad chest, arms immediately lifting so that you could clutch on to his cardigan. No part of you worried that he’d actually do what he was told. This was Forrest, he had a way out of everything - you hoped. Lifting your watery eyes to his own as he pressed his thick fingers against your elbow, steadying you, he checked your face for any signs of injury before slipping his other arm around you as well. You’d never been so close to him, pressed flush against him with hardly any room to breathe.

The man reached up and pinched the front of his hat. Removing the accessory, he lowered it to your head, shielding you from what was to come. Should he be shot, he didn’t think that was something you should see. You blinked slowly, your breaths seeming louder than usual beneath the oversized hat. You couldn’t see much, nothing but the ground and his belly as it rose and fell with every inhale and exhale.

So what happened next made you flinch. It was loud, so loud, there were screams of pain and the sound of cracking bones. Forrest hadn’t moved, he was still standing firmly with his feet planted against the wooden floor. His fingertips dared to brush along your arm, slow and assuring as he watched the scene play out. His brothers weren’t the best fighters, they weren’t the best when it came to confrontation, but regardless of what was happening they’d always have his back like he had theirs.

Without explaining what was going on, Forrest merely lifted the front of his hat so that he could see your features. Inspecting you closely, he let out a quiet grunt before giving you the best smile he could muster. With a swollen lip and a bruised eye, the expression didn’t seem fitting. Who’d be happy at a time like this? Relief colored his features as he slowly brushed his knuckles along your warm skin before he parted his lips to speak.

You beat him to it though. “Thank you..” You whispered softly before dragging yourself back. You didn’t want to suffocate him or make him uncomfortable by clinging to him. There was no longer a threat. “Come on,” You murmured softly. “Let me look at your injuries.” Peeling the hat off of your head, your slender fingers slipped through his own and you slowly guided him toward one of the tables. It was wiped clean, void of any crumbs or liquor, so you set the hat down on the surface and then nudged him gently to take a seat.

Forrest’s knees popped under the pressure and his bloodied hands moved to his stomach. It was only then, when he felt the pressure of the brass knuckles, that he realized he hadn’t taken them off. His fingers felt swollen and stiff and his arms refused to move for a few moments.

You have him a soft smile before slowly reaching for his hand. Your touch was delicate and slow as you pried the brass knuckles off of him. Setting the tool on the table, you turned around to fetch the first aid kit from behind the bar, just as Howard and Jack were hauling the bloke toward the exit. They’d be back for the other three as well.

You stepped over the unconscious bodies on the floor - some drunkards, and the three others were Forrest’s attackers. Retrieving the fallen revolver, you uncocked the weapon and slipped it back in the safe before securely closing the black case and then retrieving the plastic first aid box. The white handle fit snugly in your small palm as you pulled it free from its place under the bar.

You didn’t have the confidence that you’d be able to fix Forrest up as good as new, but you were certain that you’d be able to prevent anymore swelling, help some go down, and patch up the spots on his face that were bleeding. Your boots clicked softly against the floorboards as you made your way over to the table. Setting the box down, you undid the clasps on the front and then pushed it open. Dragging out the small container of alcohol, some gauze, a few wipes, and an ice packet, you gave him a small smile.

Forrest watched your every movement through one good eye, and one half-opened, swollen, purple eye. His nose was busted and bleeding and purple in the center. It didnt look broken, but it certainly looked bruised.

“Could I wipe your hands clean?” You asked softly. There was always an ever present shyness to you when it came to the man seated in front of you. You didn’t know what it was about him that made you feel so nervous, but you felt the need to shy away after every word exchanged.

He gave a quiet hum before lifting his hands and laying them on the table. His knuckles were tense and bleeding in various places. The impact of the brass knuckles hammering against a man’s face, still brought a small amount of pain to the man’s knuckles. He shuffled, watching you as you slipped your hand into his own and lifted it. The sun poured in through the window, falling across the injury so you could see perfectly. You opened the bottle of alcohol, dousing the cloth in it before you gently began to wipe away the smudges of blood and then cleaned the opened wounds, cuts and scrapes that bled like gashes.

He didn’t wince or jerk away even though it stung horribly. It wasn’t a matter of protecting his ego, everyone experienced pain at some point in their life. Adjusting his hand lightly, he cleared his throat before letting his thick fingers drop to his lap when you were finished cleaning them up. “Would you have really shot him?” He asked suddenly.

Your eyes lifted to his own as he asked such a thing. You stepped away again to retrieve some ice, but his words burned your ears. As you filled the ice pack, you couldn’t help but wonder what the honest answer was. Would you have shot him? Blinking a few times, you carried the ice pack back over to your boss and slowly lifted it so that he could hold it in place over his eye. “Yes.” You said after what felt like an eternity to him. “In the leg.. perhaps, or the arm.” You offered. “But I don’t think I couldve killed him.”

Forrest gave a soft nod. “I didn’t expect you to.” He assured you before giving you the best smile he could muster. “I’m incredibly grateful that you.. well, put your life on the line for me like that. He could’ve killed you.”

You snorted. “You and me both. But we’re fine.” Guiding his hand to the ice pack so he could hold it on the wound, you then began to tend to his nose. There wasn’t much you could do, apart from clean up the dried blood that rested underneath his nostril. He had stubble, dancing along the length of his warm flesh. His cheeks and his jaw were coated in the fine hairs, giving some texture to his face as your hand cupped the sharp surface, thumb grazing his chin so that you could tip his head back.

The close proximity was numbing. You felt like you’d been swallowed by a flame. Maybe it was the way the sun illuminated the both of you, but the heat you felt was completely internal. Fidgeting for a moment under his unwavering stare, you watched as the white cloth turned red and his red skin returned to the initial paleness it ordinarily was. Crumbling the rag, you laid it on the table before leaning into him so you could get a better look at his eye. You moved the ice pack, squinting as you inspected the damage.

“I’m not doctor, Mr. Bondurant.. you’re probably better off having this injury looked at.” You suggested before straightening. Your arms slowly crossed over your chest, warm fingertips tracing the sleeves of your shirt.

Forrest grumbled something incoherent before giving you a soft nod. “Feels just fine.” He lied.

“Forrest.” You scolded him. “It’s swollen shut.”

The man arched a brow. Very rarely did you use his first name. His large palm lifted, covering his eye so that he could watch you through the swollen one. “See. Works just fine.”

You squinted challengingly before shaking your head in mild amusement. The man was insufferable. You made movement to turn to clean up the first aid kit tools, but he grasped your forearm tenderly in his large palm.

“Id know if something were wrong with my eye, Y/n, because you look just as beautiful through my swollen eye as you do with my two good ones.” He pulled you in his direction, his expression a pleading one. “Perhaps you should take one more look at it.”

Your brows furrowed at the compliment he’d given you before you stumbled in his direction. Laying your nimble fingers against the unsturdy, wooden arm of the chair. Inspecting his eye as he asked, you gave him a small, shy smile. “Mr. Bondurant, I believe you..” Though you weren’t sure if you did or you just wanted to put some proximity between you and his body. He was so warm and inviting, it drove you up the wall.

Forrest leaned forward. He enjoyed seeing you squirm so much. You were riddled with your fear of being unliked by him, even though it was clear he felt the same things for you. The man’s hand was gentle as it slid up the length of your arm so he could brush a few of your tresses back and out of your eyes.

Your cheeks felt unbelievably warm in this moment. You were sure that if they could be, they’d be the color of a ripe tomato. Lifting your free hand to steady yourself, you pressed it against his strong shoulder. “What are you doing..?” You breathed, attempting to rack your brain for some sort of explanation for his actions. Your brain refused to help you, it was completely blank. The closer your face grew to his own, the hotter you became and the more your brain shut down. You felt like a blob of jello.

He couldn’t help but smile. He sensed your shyness, which was exactly why he didn’t offer any words. Just actions. He figured they’d speak louder. Besides, he had to thank you in some enjoyable fashion. Why not with a kiss? The man spread his thighs wide enough to give you a place to stand. Drawing you forward, he moved his hands to your curvy waist and held on to you as his hot breaths began to mingle with your own.

All at once, your brow smoothed and your mind was completely blank. You saw nothing but him, heard nothing but the hammering of your own heart, smelled nothing but him - and he smelt like smoke and liquor, you felt nothing but his hard body under your palm, and soon you’d taste nothing but those big, pink lips of his. Your own mouth parted, incredibly too willingly, and all at once your mouth’s molded together like long lost pieces to a missing puzzle.

Your body fell into his lap, arms appearing to be insanely slender as they curled around his wide, broad, muscular shoulders. Forrest moved his hand to your leg, steadying you with one hand on your thigh and the other laid against your back. His mouth was slow, tentative, and curious as it moved in sync with your own and your’s was hungry, exploring, and needy. The shyness you felt crept away, but it didn’t go too far, it was just silenced by the romantic exchange he was leading.

His lips were as soft as you were imagined, and he tasted like honey and coffee. You pressed the crook of your elbow against the back of his neck and let a sultry moan fall from your lips in approval. Every brush of his fingers against your spine and feel of his tongue gliding against your own, sent sparks of electricity jolting throughout your body.

You still didn’t understand why he was kissing you, but was there really a point in questioning it? Maybe he was just grateful. Maybe he’d been hit so hard in the face he thought this was the right thing to do? And maybe, you hoped it was for this reason, the incident had helped you both find the confidence to grow suddenly closer. You were careful not to let your nose bump his or your hands to stray too far in fear of hitting an injury. What this meant and how far this would go didn’t cross your mind though, because in this moment there was only him and those sweet tasting lips of his.

———————————————————————

Tag List: @saved-fanfiction @thephuonganh @theaamberr @innerpaperexpertcloud @darklydeliciousdesires @thebeckyjolene @mollybegger-blog @travelingmypassion @caffinated-tree @tcmhollnd @br0ck-eddie @ellar21 @advictedtohim @river-rain-water @crldrr2 @louloudeug99

A/N: This is my first fic in almost a year so please bear with me🖤 ( ALSO NOT MY GIFS ) also it’s been soooo long since I’ve uploaded, I can’t remember how to do a ‘keep reading’ on mobile, so please message me and let me know how!!

[tomhardyspinkyfinger]

Masterlist

Here's my masterlist!! I'll update as a post more! My requests are pretty much always open but if I get too many at once it might take me a while to finish. I write for pretty much any Hardy character!

Alfie Solomons:

Series:

Part 1: While she was Sleeping

Part 2: The Dinner Date

Part 3: Moving In

Part 4: A Simple Life

Part 5: Betrayal

Part 6: Margate

The Good Girl and the Gangster:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

One shots:

New Employment

Baby Fever

Work Place Romance

Tommy Conlon:

The Diner Drama

The Gym

Freddie Jackson:

Freddie Gets Caught

Dog Rescue

James Delaney:

The Man I Can't Kill

Reggie/Ronnie Kray:

The Kray Brothers Learn to Share

Forrest Bondurant:

The New Girl

Eddie Brock:

Risky Cases

Office Blues

Ian Eames:

Jealousy

Leo Demidov:

Series:

The Search for Anne's Island (PT. 1)

Drabbles

[sparklemichele]

I loved city girl and it’s been a while since I’ve read a Forrest fic !! He is one of my top fav Tom characters

Thanks love. I was feeling some type a way about Forrest yesterday and decided to actually write something. It's been forever since I wrote anything. Thanks for reading love. XXOO

[angel-inked]

The Wolf Charmer, Chapter 26: Love is the best medicine

Another WIP Wednesday is upon us!!!

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @mollybegger-blog @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @inkwolvesandcoffee @liliac-dreamer @potter-solomons

"Nobody else has any injuries?" Rose asked, looking between Danny and Jack. Jack shook his head, "Nothing major that needs any treatment." He explained. "Good," Rose nodded. "You boys can fight well, including you, Danny." She added. Danny nodded along with a smile. "Speaking of which, I need to track down Banner." Forrest mumbled, as if the thought irritated him, likely cause he wanted to stay where he was pressed against Rose, not having to think of the inevitable. "About?" Howard questioned, not expecting an answer. "Bloodlines, I'm wondering if I'm the reason Danny shot lighting out of his tail." Forrest clarified quietly. Howard nodded along like he was keeping up, though his features betrayed him by expressing his confusion. "If my hunch is right," Forrest started, "it often is." Howard interrupted with a grin. Forrest narrowed his eyes and grunted, slightly annoyed with Howard's inability to keep his mouth shut. "If my hunch is right, then Danny does have some form of blood connection to us because I'm the one who turned him." Forrest explained. Danny shrunk in on himself a little as everyone turned their attention to him, Howard's face fell some at his best friend's out of character apprehension. "Don't worry about it, Daniel." Howard said softly, moving to pat Danny on the shoulder. "The Bondurant brothers are the reason you're in this mess, and we're gonna be the reason you come out on the side of it." Howard smiled, his way of being comforting. Danny returned the smile, "Thanks, Howie." He said, giving Howard a hug. Forrest cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the pair as they pulled apart. "It's a good thing you two are best friends, 'cause I don't think your mothers could've handled you as twins." Forrest said with a teasing tone, making Howard grin. Danny's always been grouped with them as the unofficial forth brother. "You and Jack are just as bad!" Danny quipped. Howard chuckled happily, listening to the same exchange they've had multiple times before. He was becoming increasingly more glad Forrest had been the one to turn Danny, as the only thought that Howard kept coming back to was that he wouldn't have had the stomach to.

[fightmewiatch]

No 18 Sharing a soft smile across a crowded room. With Forrest Bondurant if you don't mind. I'm excited 😄

          Forrest was a man of few words, and even fewer facial expressions. Not that it mattered, you’d worked with him and his brothers long enough that even the shift of his eyes told you enough. You didn’t mind working behind the bar, most of the men that came in didn’t care about anything but getting a drink and being on their way.

          Bad men happened. It was a part of life. You’d had men pull a gun on you, grab you, throw their drink at you. You barely needed to say anything, before Forrest was dragging them out, sometimes Howard helping, if he were there...and sober. But with as rare as they were, Forrest and the boys were always keeping an eye out, making sure you were safe, regardless.

          Some nights, the place was more crowded - each table full, each seat at the bar taken, men even sitting near the steps, laughing and shouting at each other over their drink. Those were the nights you liked best. Forrest worked in the back corner, tucked away from everyone, leaving the rest of the room to you and Cricket. 

          The men at the bar were loud tonight, talking over each other, to people sitting three, four seats away. You asked them to quiet down, just a little - the sudden shouting startled you, and seeing as you were handling knives behind the bar, you knew it was best to not be startled. But they were drunk, and you knew that meant they were dumb, at least for the night. 

          When they shouted again, sounding a little angrier than before, you looked towards them, only to realize they were talking about some baseball game. It wasn’t anger, it was frustration, and you sighed, glad for it. 

          With a glance around the room, you paused, spotting Forrest watching from the doorway. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his sweater, but he stared at you, only giving a flick of his eye towards the men. The room was crowded, buzzing with voices and laughter, he was checking on you like this, staying back while asking with a look. 

          Your smile was soft, and you shrugged, before holding up a glass, a silent question of your own. 

          You treasured each and every smile that Forrest gave you, with how few they really were, and the one he gave you then, barely there but just enough it made you blush, and fill the glass, moving across the room to slip the glass into his fingers. 

          His eyes met yours, tired but warm, as he accepted it, sipping the drink slowly. Your smile was bigger, this time, as you touched his arm, something most people never dared do, before you headed back to the bar. In the mirror, you saw his lips tick up a bit more around the lip of the glass, but he didn’t say anything, simply disappeared back into his office, as you giggled to yourself, and went back to work.

          Forrest didn’t talk much, not if he didn’t have to. But you’d learned to read him, to hear him in the silence. And you’d learn to communicate the same way in return. 

[clairecrive]

Favorite fics

As the lovely @br0ck-eddie did, I thought I’d also share with you my favorite fics and I hope you’ll add yours too. There’s never enough fanfiction to read!

Let’s start with Bane:

- “The scientist” which is part of the “Constellation” series on ao3 by Ilovehighhats. It’s canon at the beginning but the she’s so lovely that has written a lot of one shots and short stories that follows the relationship between Hannah and Bane after the end of the first fic. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.

-”Billie the Crocodile’s and Little Bear Christmas Adventures” by the same author. It’s an AU so it’s canon divergent. A young writer is in need of house soundproofing and guess who’s going to be the one to take care of it? Yep.

Now Alfie:

-Either “Blue eyes”, “Burned” and “Dawn in your eyes” by @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes are top choises. Her stories are really original and really good for different reasons. Especially “Dawn in your eyes” is really unique and different from everything you’ve read up until now, I assure you. You can find them on her profile where she has amazing summaries so I won’t even try lol.

- “Another time” on ao3 by sceawere. This story it’s...it’s just amazing. It starts before the war so we see a young Alfie and how he becomes the man he is. The story is truly heart warming but also angsty in some parts. Oh, did I forget to mention that it’s also a slow burn? Yep, told you it was amazing.

- “Big god” by @fabulaprima which is another time travel AU but has a little twist to it. 100% recommend.

- “Heart full of love and murder” by Ashling,herequeerandreadytofight on ao3. It’s funny,it’s cute,it’s fluffy, lot of domestic Alfie.

-”New Day” by the lovely @evelynshelby. Ava’s a long friend of Ollie and it takes Alfie one look at her to fall for her. Ava’s has her granny to take care of though and not everyone wants them to be happy. Also, you should really check out her profile bc she writes amazing pieces and also has a Tommy fic.

- “The wandering jew and the dancing girl” by @inkinterrupted is also a great one! I really like the way her oc and Alfie met and her oc in general. Also her other great stories on her profile.

-”Mr Solomons” by @idesiretomhardy is a modern alfie AU which I’m a sucker for and even though it’s discontinued the chapters that she’s written are really good.

-”Returning Home” by @themenof--birmingham. Basically a Shelby sister pairing but the oc is really peculiar and so is her relationship with Alfie. 

-”George” by @twistedrunes. Alfie is more a guest star in this fic but I thought it was superb. The writing, the plot, the oc, everything. Definitely should read.

-”The ties that bind” by @justanothershelby. Arranged marriage AU basically but then again, I wouldn’t do it justice with my words just go on her profile to check it out.

I haven’t read a lot of Forrest Bondurant fic, only one actually and I thought it was amazing. Well written and natural development of the relationship. I’m talking about “Who we were and who we are now” by the super talented @boogiewrites.

Same goes for Tommy but there are great ones on @tommyconlonfanfic and of course, “Like You” by the wonderful @of-love-and-of-the-sea. 

Also, I’d like to tag some amazing writers on this site that write short stories or little imagines that are simply magnificent: @sopxhiea, @br0ck-eddie, @hardyimagines, @iamkatehardy, @acciostilinski, @onl-you, @orionwhispers, @justanothershelby. I’m sure I’m forgetting someone or something but I’ll add to this list as soon as I remember or read something new. I’m curious to know yours now!

[boogiewrites]

Write a Forrest Bondurant fic once, misspell the word forest forever.

[tomhardyspinkyfinger]

The New Girl

Masterlist

Request:

Ooh ooh! Could you please do something with Forrest? Maybe she runs a shop in town and he’s found himself smitten, but of course, doesn’t do anything about it. Even still, he can’t help but find reasons to stop in more frequently than he truly needs to— his brothers know it’s just to see you and joke behind his back about it.

A/N: On a writing roll today! Here's another request fulfilled! I absolutely love Forrest and I think this might be one of my favorite fics. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: light language and violence

Forrest cursed Howard the entire way into town. His only job was to pick up the food crates for the station and he couldn't manage even that. Forrest grumbled about how unreliable his brothers could be. When he parked the truck and got out he noticed something different about the small grocery mart.

The open windows held beautiful potted plants and flowers that swayed in the breeze, the front door was propped open and Forrest could hear light jazz playing from the radio. This was confusing to Forrest, the old man who owned the shop always had the doors and windows closed, and was usually a grump.

Forrest carried in the crates of moonshine he traded with the shop owner for better deals on food. When he entered he saw what he assumed was the cause of all the changes in the shop. A young woman was restocking a shelf and swaying her hips to the music playing, her dress moving in tune with her movements. Forrest froze and watched the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

Forrest knew everyone in town, he would definitely remember seeing a face and body as beautiful as hers. She turned fully and jumped a bit when she saw Forrest, but replaced her shock with an equally as beautiful smile.

"Oh! Hi there! I'm Y/N, is there anything I can get you today?" She asked. Her voice held a light southern drawl, one that wouldn't be noticeable if Forrest wasn't as southern as he was.

"Did Clyde sell this place? He's usually the one runnin' things around here." Forrest questioned, placing the crates of shine on the counter.

"Oh no I'm Clyde's niece. He came down with an awful sickness so my aunt asked me to come down from New York to help run the store while she helps him recover." She explained with that same beautiful smile on her face. Forrest nodded and shuffled awkwardly on both feet.

"Well uh- I'm Forrest Bondurant, my brothers an' I live just down the road at the station. I pick up a big load here every Tuesday." Forrest explained. She perked up.

"So you're the Forrest Bondurant I've heard so much about! You boys are practically living legends in this town so they say. My uncle left me a list of regulars, so I have your food all packaged and ready to go!" She spoke, rounding the counter and grabbing four prepared brown bags full of groceries. After placing them on the counter she ran up the till.

"That'll be five dollars, my uncle also wrote down your discount for the shine, awful stuff that is." Y/N giggled, smiling wider as Forrest cracked a small smile.

"It ain't for little women like you, that's for sure." Forrest responded, handing her the bills. She took the payment and scoffed playfully.

"Little? You haven't seen me in a fight, Mr. Bondurant." She said, flexing her bicep. Forrest shocked himself by letting out a quiet chuckle. This girl had managed to make him smile and laugh all in a span of five minutes. Something no one had ever done.

"I'd pay good money to see you in a fight, Mrs. Y/N." She smiled and handed him back his change.

"It's just Miss." He nodded and felt a lurch of excitement in his chest. He thanked her for the groceries and she smiled back, telling him to come back soon. He drove home with the hint of a smile on his face, fantasizing about her laugh and her bubbly personality the whole way back.

For the next few weeks Forrest found any and every reason to go back to the shop. Whether it was for a single piece of bread or a cold soda, Forrest was in the shop.

If Forrest wasn't in the shop, he was driving by it and admiring her from afar. He knew it was creepy, but when he saw her petting and feeding a stray dog, giving free candy to kids who stopped by, and waving and smiling at every passing soul he knew he was hooked by her.

One day as Jack was walking back from Crickets house, he stopped at the sight of the truck the brothers shared. He furrowed his brows and watched Forrest, following his eyeline to see him admiring a woman watering a few plants in an open window sill. At first Jack smiled, he hadn't ever seen his brother with such a look in his eyes. Once the initial sweetness of the situation passed, Jack rushed home out of Forrest's view to tell Howard, they never got the chance to tease Forrest and Jack wasn't going to pass this up.

Hours later, when Forrest came home from a moonshine drop he found his brothers sitting at the bar sipping on shine. He nodded to them and started to walk towards the office.

"Jack, go on and take the car to the grocers, we're out of bread again." Howard spoke, hiding his smirk. Jack nodded and hopped off the stool, grabbing his hat from the bar. Forrest turned and walked towards them.

"Don't bother Jack, you'll just get the wrong kind. I'll go." Both brothers began to laugh at Forrest.

"What the hell is so funny?" He questioned, already irritated at his brothers antics.

"Jack said you had it bad for that girl working at Clyde's shop, sittin' outside starin' at her n' all. I didn't believe 'em till now." Forrest rolled his eyes at his immature brothers and walked off to the exit nonetheless. While Forrest was a bit embarrassed having been caught, it still gave him an excuse to see her again.

In reality the brothers were happy Forrest had found someone, he had been miserable for years until recently. Meeting her was not only beneficial for Forrest but for the brothers as well. He wasn't such a hard ass all the time, as Jack would say.

Forrest drove into town fairly quickly, it was late so the roads were empty. He knew she'd still be there, during one of their daily conversations she expressed how she usually stays late to clean up and lock up. Forrest pulled up and immediately knew something was wrong.

The front door was wide open like usual, but the glass panels were shattered and the lights inside were flickering. He rushed inside and his heart fell to his toes. The shelves were knocked over, produce littered the floor, as well as soil from Y/N's plotted plants that had been smashed. The radio was smoking and fried and Forrest was yet to find her in this mess.

"Y/N?" He called out, his anxiety rising, his hand reaching for his brass knuckles he kept in his cardigan pocket.

"Forrest?" Y/N's quiet, shaky voice called out from behind the counter. Forrest rushed to her and dropped to his knees where Y/N was rested against the wall. Her cheek was split and her makeup was running, tears falling down her face.

"What happened?" Forrest questioned, picking her up like she weighed nothing, placing her on the counter. As she spoke Forrest grabbed a rag and dabbed her cheek with some water from the sink.

"I-I was closing and a few men came in and started yelling about some safe they heard my uncle kept hidden here. I told them the truth, that there wasn't a safe and if there was I wouldn't know where it was. O-one of them hit me to try and get me to talk but decided to ransack the store instead." Y/N sniffled a few more tears falling down her face. Forrest put the rag down and wrapped her up in his big arms, rubbing her back gently.

"You just cry now, let it out." He instructed. She complied and began sobbing into his shoulder. He remained calm for her but in the inside he was fuming, he knew he would find them and when he did they would regret even laying eyes on such a perfect creature as her.

When she wiped her tears and leaned away from Forrest she let out a forced chuckle and sniffled.

"I got your sweater all snotty." She muttered. He forced a small smile and pushed her hair back away from her face.

"That's alright now, don't you go worryin' about that." He instructed. Forrest's eyes wandered around the store and landed on a small pistol that he hadn't seen before. It was on the ground next to where he found Y/N. He picked it up and returned to where she was sitting.

"Why ain't you use this, Y/N?" He questioned, slightly irritated that she had the option to protect herself and didn't use it.

"I-I was going to but I couldn't. I didn't want anyone to get hurt." She muttered tears forming again. He sighed and put the gun down. Her soul was so unbelievably pure that he felt he didn't deserve to be in her presence, but he knew she needed him now.

"Please don't be angry with me Forrest, I knew I should've used it but I really couldn-" Forrest cut her off.

"Enough of that now, you ain't makin' anyone angry so stop thinkin' that. You're gonna come stay at the station until we get this figured out, alright?" Forrest explained gently. She nodded and wiped her nose again.

"I'm staying at the hotel down the road, my aunt didn't want me catching whatever my uncle has so I'm not staying with them." Y/N explained. Forrest nodded and they left the store to collect her things.

When they arrived at the station Forrest ushered her in and both of his brothers halted in conversation, perking up and dropping the cards they were playing. Forrest dropped Y/N's bag by the door.

"Jack, Howard, this is Y/N, someone robbed her store so she'll be stayin' here until the men are.. caught." Forrest explained. Both men stood to introduce themselves and she smiled wide which shocked Forrest who assumed her bubbly personality would have taken a hit tonight. She wrapped her arms around Howard and then Jack.

"It's so lovely to finally meet you! Forrest has told me quite the stories about you two! I hope I'm not imposing on you by staying here." Y/N spoke. Both brothers were shocked nearly silent, Forrest hadn't ever told anyone anything about the brothers. This crush was deeper than either of them knew.

Howard was the first to wipe the shock away.

"Ain't no trouble, you know who roughed ya up?" He questioned in his deep southern drawl. She nodded.

"Not by name, I had seen them a few times around town, they have rotten teeth and oily hair, that's all I really remember. Oh and they all looked alike." Y/N recounted. Howard looked to Forrest and Forrest nodded. Howard knew he and Forrest would be paying these gentleman a visit. The brothers knew the men to be the Fuller brothers. They were a small gang that lived on the outskirts of town and constantly caused trouble.

Forrest showed Y/N to the guest room and dropped her bags by the foot of the bed. When he turned Y/N had wrapped her arms around Forrest for the second time tonight. He immediately responded and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Thank you, Forrest. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here to help." Y/N muttered into his burly chest. He pulled away and nodded.

"Ain't nothin'. You get some rest now." He instructed. She nodded and he left the room, closing the door. He waited at the bar with Howard for an hour or two, until he knew she was fast asleep. The two brothers instructed Jack to sit up and keep watch if anything were to happen. He protested but a stern look from Forrest shut him up.

The brothers left the station and headed towards where they knew the Fuller brothers were cooped up.

Meanwhile, Y/N struggled to sleep. She was unsettled by the nights events, and her mind refused to let her fall asleep. After about two hours of tossing and turning Y/N gave up and traveled downstairs to find a glass of milk or something of the sort. She hoped she wasn't overstepping by rooting through the kitchen. When she arrived downstairs she saw Jack sitting alone at one of the tables, head thrown back as he snored.

"Jack?" Y/N called out. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking at the voice who called him. He thanked god that it was Y/N and not Forrest who caught him sleeping.

"What you doin' up so late?" Jack questioned. She sat across from him and shrugged.

"Was havin' trouble sleeping is all." Jack smiled at the slight southern accent piercing through. Too much time spent with Forrest, he assumed.

"What are you doing up so late?" She questioned Jack. It was then that he realized he wasn't keeping watch for intruders, he was keeping watch to make sure Y/N didn't see the state of Forrest and Howard when they came home from their late night activities.

Before he could attempt to sway her to her room, Forrest and Howard entered through the front door. All was quiet as Y/N stood and approached Forrest, his shirt, face, and hair covered in blood. He avoided looking at her, he couldn't bear to see the look of fear in her eyes. She grabbed his hand and led him to the upstairs bathroom quietly.

She grabbed a wash rag and cleaned off his face. After tossing the rag into the tub she pushed his cardigan off and began unbuttoning his shirt. His hand grabbed hers.

"What're you doin?" He questioned. She pushed his hand off and continued unbuttoning, pushing his shirt off ad throwing both items of clothes in the tub.

"Don't want you to stain your favorite sweater." She explained simply.

"You're not.. scared?" Forrest questioned quietly. She shook her head and finally halted her movements, looking into his eyes.

"I know what you did for me Forrest. I'm not scared of you and I never will be, I love you too much to be scared." She admitted. He swallowed and shifted uncomfortably.

"I know you're not used to hearing that, I don't expect you to say it back but it is how I truly feel." She continued, now moving to the tub to scrub the clothes. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his bare chest, pressing his plump lips to hers. They kissed for what felt like an eternity before Forrest pulled away.

"I-I love you too, what do you say about marryin' me?" He questioned. She smiled and pecked his lips.

"Forrest, I thought you'd never ask."

[cinebration]

Opening Requests!

Hi, everyone! I am opening requests again! Please read the rules carefully before submitting your request(s).

Rules

Send to my ask box! Please keep in mind that these requests are meant to be one-shot drabbles.

No smut. No pregnancy fics or A/B/O fics. No crossover fics. No actor x reader. All reader characters must be 18 or older. Other AUs acceptable.

I’m asking this time that requests do not ask me to continue fics I have written, regardless of whether they are multi-chapter or one-shots.

Identify the gender of the reader if you want something other than female.

Because I try to remain as true to character as possible, I reserve the right to reject or tweak requests to keep the characters in character.

Below are character lists divided by actors.

Oscar Isaac

The Moon Knight Boys, Poe Dameron

Pedro Pascal

Javi Gutierrez, Din Djarin, Ezra, Maxwell Lord

Diego Luna

Cassian Andor

Christian Bale

Gorr the God Butcher, Alfred Borden, John Preston, Patrick Bateman, Russell Baze

Henry Cavill

Napoleon Solo, August Walker, Captain Syverson, Geralt of Rivia, Sherlock Holmes, Walter Marshall

Tom Hardy

Eames, Eddie Brock, Alfie Solomons, James Keziah Delaney, Bob (The Drop), Forrest Bondurant, Tuck, Tommy Conlon

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes, Charles Blackwood

Chris Evans

Ransom Drysdale, Jake Jensen, Colin Shea

Ewan McGregor

Roman Sionis, Dan Torrance, Obi-Wan Kenobi

I’m also open to other characters and fandoms if you want me to try my hand at something!

[angel-inked]

Song fic: The devil inside - Daniel Murphy

This is the start of a song inspired Forrest Bondurant fic, I have a Tommy Conlon one in the works as well

And without further ado, enjoy!

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @mollybegger-blog @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @hoodeddreams13 @inkwolvesandcoffee @liliac-dreamer @potter-solomons

“And its special deputy!” The newcomer nit-picked. Sheriff Pete Hodges narrowed his eyes, all this so-called “Special Deputy” had done so far was reinforce his distaste for city folk. “I hear these mountain boys have got, uh… oh, what do you hicks call it?” Hodges did everything in his power to suppress a glare, “Cherokee… blood in them, yes, this would explain why they're a little… animalistic in their nature.” Charlie Rakes said, features scrunched together as if the mere thought of it disgusted him. The sheriff sighed silently through his nose, thinking that whoever thought it was a good idea to send Rakes to Franklin wanted to damn his small town to hell. “Well, I don't rightly understand what you mean,” Hodges started out, not looking to stir up things that didn't have no need to be stirred in the first place, “but there's a feeling around these parts,” the newcomer's ears perked up with intrigue. “Forrest bondurant, he's.. different from the other folks, some say..” The sheriff paused to choose his next word carefully, “Indestructible.” He decided. “You mean immortal?” Rakes asked with a smirk, awaiting a laugh from the sheriff to assure himself that his leg was being pulled under the table. Hodges expression remained serious however, the laugh Rakes wanted to hear never came. “Others even say he's got the devil in'em.” Hodges added. Rakes let out a high pitched laugh, making Hodges wonder if his unmentionables were still in his abdomen, “Shit,” he scoffed, “you hicks are a fucking sideshow unto yourselves.” He chuckled. “You know something?” Hodges said before he could stop himself. Rakes looked up at him with a curt and disdainful smile, “I don't much like you.” The sheriff uttered, finally giving himself the satisfaction of speaking his mind. “Oh yeah?” Rakes asked, gesturing to him, “Well, would you believe that not many do.” He added sarcastically.

[fightmewiatch]

If I'm not to late can I get 67 kiss prompt list with Forrest bondurant please. Really happy to see you opened for requests 💕 When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More

        It was probably silly, falling for Forrest like you had. But you didn’t mind being silly, really. It was just...who you were. 

        But it took you ages to even admit it how to felt to yourself, even longer to just consider telling him. 

        There was absolutely nothing special about the day, as you pushed open the door, glancing around the room. Several people were already drunk at the bar, not mean, just slumped over, making you chuckle before you waved at Cricket and headed for Forrest’s office. 

“Told you not t’bother me.” You huffed, shaking your head, the sound pulling Forrest’s focus from his books. “...you ain’t Cricket.”

“No, I ain’t. Wanted to you, though...that alright?” He grunted, but fully turned his chair in your direction. “Didn’t get t’come by for the holiday. You guys have fun?” He raised a brow, face otherwise blank, as you snickered and nodded. “Alright, alright, I’ll get t’the point.”

“Alright.”

“...I like you, Forrest,” you spit out quietly, shaking your head. “Probably dumb. Everyone else thinks so. Nothin’ has to change. I just wanted t’tell you...” 

        The chair creaked as he stood up, and you raised a brow as he took a step towards you.

“Definitely dumb. But I don’t mind.”

        Smiling up at him, you hesitated, just enough to meet his eye, before leaning in and brushing your lips against his. The kiss was soft, sweet, even if it took him a moment to kiss back, even if he only did that for a second before pulling away.

“I’m sorry, are you sure you-” he whispered, cut off as you kissed him again. This time, his large hand cupped your jaw, and he pressed into the kiss, wiping out every worry that had clenched at your chest when you’d decided you were finally going to tell him.