#oh god the fucking angst is gonna be painful innit

[thicccbread]

Blue

Written from the perspective of Ghostbur. This is a headcanon on how c!Tommy lost his third life before c!Dream killed him in the prison. TLDR of the headcanon: C!Tommy died and got revived by church of prime.

Tw, Suicide Mention. Major Character Death, Angst, Blood

Heavy rain, one like no other, plagued the planes. I looked out of my wooden cabin, seeing the campfire from the night before. I sighed with relief knowing the rain hadn't reached it, nor Tommy. 

I saw him standing on his "Intimidation tower" again, he always climbs up there. From the break of dawn till dusk of night, staring at the clouds. 

"Hey, Tommy!" 

"Hello? Oh, Ghostbur?" 

"Hello, little one. What are you doing?" 

He said nothing.

I wasn't sure why he was up there, just that every day he would go there and sit. I just hope he's ok, I love him.

I went back inside the house ready for my day, even though my skin was sizzling from the rain. It was fine! I usually dry off and my ghost dust stops melting, but just in case I might need healing potions.

Today I was going to find a stick so I can make fishing rods. Tommy had told me he was starving so the least I could do was get him food. 

I wander off into the woods to find those sticks.

Ever since we got to Logstechire Tommy has been moping around. He never seemed to chat with me and push me away. I think he's trying to play a game or something with me. But he's got to remember to be serious. 

When I got back, Dream had gotten there already, Tommy was throwing down his stuff in a hole and Dream had some red sticks in his hand. I wonder what he's gonna do with it, so I hovered one there to see.

"Hello! What're you doing?" I asked as Dream got his helmet on and pulled out his flame bow and arrow.

Particles of ash whisked about the climate changing the tone, I heard a ringing in my ear, seeing Tommy covered in soot, the smut covered his hair with a mix of red blue.

"You're a fucking prick Dream. A wrongun 'Innit."

"I told you, Tommy, I'll be here for your stuff."

"Hello Dream," I said, he looked plain. 

He ignored me.

Tommy was sitting down picking up the grass and throwing it. I thought it was a game so I sat with him doing the same but he snapped at me.

He was screaming a bunch, which made me frightened, brought back some memories. 

So to avoid it again I kept quiet. The silence makes me sad so I pulled out some blue and threw it at Tommy, he seemed to like it because I saw his tears disappear into the blue.

I got up and went inside my cabin as I noticed the gentle snow started falling. It burns my skin so I try to avoid it. 

"Goodnight little one," I said before dozing off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was the last day I saw him. 

The morning was hazy, a dismal grey same as yesterday. I went over to the intimidation tower expecting to see him stargazing again, but instead, all I saw was him laying face down in the snow, I raised his head seeing it blistered with ice and swollen. He was surrounded by a pool of red sludge and blue, his body frozen over and a rock pierced through his stomach. 

"Tommy! Wake up!" I said, he was just sleeping like usual. His face was always blistered when he slept in the snow right? 

I grabbed a stick, poking him on his back- nothing. 

Slowly I began to feel something burn on my eyes, it stung and sizzled. I pulled out blue and soaked up the tears, then threw the remaining blue on Tommy. It didn't work.

I fell to the floor, ignoring the pain in my knees of melting.

I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes, praying for Tommy. I saw Tommy do it once while he was on the tower, when I asked what it was he said it was a prayer for help to the Prime God. 

I hoped for Tommy to get help, I didn't know what to do, so I kneeled praying, holding Tommy's beaded necklace in my hands as I did so and from the morning I came out till the very next day I prayed.

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[pog-through-the-suffering]

ive . never made an original post on this blog besides being completely head full of thoughts regarding the dream smp these past months so, 🎉here’s to my first og post

The Traitor!!!

(yeah i know it's already been a day and none of this stuff is new hsjfhj just let me be a drama queen that really likes analysing characters)

can i just say before i get into it that i love the descent into pretty much grey morality for most of the "characters" involved in the smp. like. pretty much nobody is morally correct! other than niki nihachu because niki can do no wrong :) also i'll be referring to the characters... of these people? and not who they are

now, i've got a couple people that i think are traitors and i'll explain them a little further down but here's some things i noted when i was watching the vod that might be interesting owo

dream says, quote, "[you] may have traitors in your ranks" which,

could be a double jebait; he knows there's a traitor but he wants to sound like it's up in the air

there really is no traitor and this is just a ruse to get pogtopia to implode on itself

the traitor still hasn't made up their mind on whether or not they will betray pogtopia

and i think the last one is the most interesting, at least from a semi-meta perspective, to have a traitor that's not fully into the role and doesn't decide until last minute. idk, something about the angst really fuels me :)

either way, here's my predictions on who could be the traitor ranked (more or less) most compelling to least compelling, and i'm not accounting for realism because... this is my tumblr post and i get to pick how i order things :) i'm hiding the (long) analysis in read more because... i just realized how much i have to say and i am Not concise.

tl;dr

tubbo, while unrealistic, makes for an interesting twist and, for angst reasons, would also be cool to write about if he betrays pogtopia

similar to tubbo, tommy betraying is unrealistic, but for angst reasons would also be cool

technoblade is kind of obvious, but the continuity (if he’s the traitor) would make me pretty happy.

wilbur soot would be a little null, since he’s already planning on blowing everything to smithereens either way, but would be another step in his spiral downwards (jeez how far can this guy go) so i’m not mad.

georgenotfound would not be super surprising per say but would continue with his general characterization as an arbiter of chaos (i’ll maybe elaborate in a different post) it would be :)

badlands folks would... not be surprising. they never formally aligned with pogtopia, and aside from sam never really... offered their help? concretely, at least.

fundy already used up his secret traitor card.

same with eret, i love her, but his betrayal wouldn’t be super impactful. plus, they’re more aligned with badlands?

niki nihachu... i said i won’t care about realism but i sincerely cannot in canon imagine this. but if she did... oh the angst would be *chef’s kiss*

hbomb, ponk, purpled, itsalyssa, punz, other people? they never really were involved with this season aside from like,,, maybe helping schlatt hunt down tommy and wilbur right at the beginning. so the betrayal wouldn’t. matter.

tubbo - look, ik i said i don't care about realism, but the chances of this actually happening are... pretty slim. i love tubbo. i support tubbo. but they... like, the confused "no?" when he first came on VC with tommy makes me think it probably won't be him, unless they're really that good at acting. which, i mean, i guess would make for a fantastic surprise. but there's something deeply compelling about this kid, who largely has been relegated to third in command/less important than his friend, and who has been treated like a work horse a lot of the time (being asked to farm netherite for this upcoming war, being forced to decorate what ended up being his fucking funeral, otherwise grinding for shit in the earliest war only for it to get ruined by dteam), fucking snapping. plus, it's not like tubbo hasn't demonstrated his penchance towards chaos. also, i think there's something to be said about the lingering effects of manipulative authority/paternal figures and how that would manifest in tubbo, but that's a post for another day.

tommy - okay, yeah, maybe i just like kids my age popping the fuck off because of terrible parental figures, but shhhhhh. for real though, i think it would be really interesting for the person who up to this point has largely been the moral compass or otherwise the hero of the smp. for him to turn out to have always been as bad as the "villains" he's fighting... i dunno. also, something about him betraying because he's so fucking done with the people who are supposed to protect and lead him? mghhghh. but i like this probably mostly for the pop off factor LOL

technoblade - i mean... this one's a little obvious innit? i'm not mad at this, for sure, because techno's always made it clear he is ultimately here for chaos and anarchy. plus, i'll be able to stew in the dynamics of dream and techno fucking the server up LOL. all that aside, if techno turns out to be the villain i will be happy about the (now) fired chekhov's gun. like, i appreciate the continuity between "schlatt suggests techno is a pogtopia spy when he joins" to "techno admits he's just an anarchist" to techno's accidental or forced, depending on how you read it, betrayal of pogtopia by killing tubbo, and it all culminating in techno's final betrayal. while not the most surprising, it would be narratively fitting. and that's always nice isn't it? when things end with a nice bow on top-

speaking of nice bows on top, wilbur soot! i mean,,, as the man has said himself, there's really nothing more he can do to betray (if not pogtopia) tommy's values. the bitch wants to blow up manberg! and that's super fucking sexy. i love his corruption arc, it's *chef's kiss.* so... is he gonna be the traitor? probably not. but something about being driven to the very brink, that you've got nothing else even after you want to destroy it all that you seek out your former mortal enemy to cause even more pain and destruction... very compelling, very nice.

speaking of brunet british twinks,,, georgenotfound. even if george wasn't really on the smp or never formally betrayed manberg, i think they kind of accepted that he's on their side. and while this wouldn't necessarily a surprising twist, this would continue with dteam's (accidental?) characterization of themselves as arbiters of chaos. maybe i'll write a whole nother post about that, stay tuned :)

any of the badlands people - i mean... i love them. i love what they stand for. but they never really aligned with pogtopia, did they? so one of them, any of them, except maybe sam, would make for a pretty weak sauce twist. like, perhaps with skeppy? and it continuing the trend of enemy between tommy and skeppy? but really the most compelling is sam in that he agreed to help tommy but as a final reveal he doesn't join tommy's side when tommy does whatever with the creeper head.

as for weak sauce twists, fundy being the traitor would be pretty fuckin' weak. i'm sorry! he already used his secret traitor card, and everyone knows, once you've used it once you can never (until the next season) use it again.

other characters on the smp... yeah, i love eret! i love her! he's fucking fantastic! their gay castle? best fucking build! but like i said, already used secret traitor card. plus, she's part of badlands, so i don't think his betrayal would be surprising. and niki nihachu,,, i know i said i wouldn't care about realism, but i honest to god cannot imagine her being the traitor. i guess if she was there'd be some nice angst about her realizing that everything is shit, no matter where you turn, pogtopia's being run by a fanatical JD, manberg's run by a dictatorial senile goat man, badlands isn't even strong enough to have its own territory. so, what can a woman do when she has nothing left to lose? but for real, within canon it just... wouldn't really make sense to me. hbomb hasn't been involved in the plot, punz + ponk + purpled + alyssa + others haven't really been involved in the plot aside from. like chasing down tommy and wilbur that one time.

and... yeah! those are my thoughts :)

[hardyimagines]

Part 6 — The Baker

Part 1   Part 2  Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 7   Part 8     Part 9

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Could I request an Alfie Solomons x reader where she has no idea who he is and thinks he’s just a baker so he bakes things for her and is sweet but he keeps trying to hide his identity bc he really likes her and eventually she finds out who he is? You decide whether you want the ending to be angst or fluff! And please make this one a bit lengthy :) thanks love 💗 Requested by: @centerhabit​

Warnings: Swearing, Nightmares, Sexual Harassment ( I don’t want to upset anyone, it’s not graphic, but I just want to forewarn you! )

Word count: 9.1k

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“Cyril.” You whispered softly in annoyance, hand pressed gently into the pup’s face as he licked your cheek excitedly, attempting to wake you. “No..” You whined under your breath as sleep quickly slipped away from your grasp, do to the dog disrupting your dreams. The large animal lifted his paws on to the edge of the grey duvet before hoisting himself up and on to the oversized mattress. Cyril weighed more than you did which was quite shocking, so when the mastiff lowered himself down on top of your chest, you groaned out even louder. The room was hot, sticky hair sweeping over your pale skin as you squirmed beneath the dog to try and free yourself. His heavy paws pressed against your arms and you found yourself to be much weaker than usual. There was a dull throbbing in your temple that seemed to suffocate the entirety of your head and as you went to shout for Alfie, you found an incredible soreness in your throat. You crinkled your nose at the uncomfortable feelings before weakly patting Cyril. “Go get Alfie.” You whispered before snapping your fingers and pointing to the door. You didn’t think the dog could’ve moved faster. Cyril leapt off the bed, loud paws scratching the slippery floor before he ran, as best as he could, down the stairs and to his father who was hunched over his desk in the living room. You could hear the dog’s loud bark fill the entirety of Alfie’s home— well your home as well now. Smiling sleepily into the pillow, despite the sickness that you felt, your eyes slid shut and you let out a tired moan as you tried to get comfy. Cyril barked again and you could hear Alfie shushing the animal. “Do you want your mother to wake up?” The man growled softly, but you could hear every word in the silent home. Your ears twitched as Alfie referred to you as the pup’s mother and you were overcome with a warmth of happiness. Moving for the third time on to your back, you tried that position again, but sleep didn’t come. Another growl from Alfie did though.

Cyril was biting the end of the man’s slacks, snarling as he tried to get Alfie to follow him. “Bloody dog, what the hell is wrong with you? I’m trying to work, yeah, go lay down with your mum. Right, go.” He pointed to the stairs, expecting the dog to rush off in your direction, but Cyril merely continued to rest on the floor with his chin on Alfie’s foot, tugging lightly again at the man’s trousers. “You’ve had your breakfast, yeah, and you’ve been outside, right, what else could you fucking want?” The man, desperate to finish the work on the desk so he could climb into bed with you, stood from the creaky chair. Alfie looked to the clock in the corner, squinting. The hour hand pointed to six and he had realized he’d stayed up all night again. The sunlight was streaming in from the window in the corner of the room, but Alfie had been so caught up in paperwork, he didn’t even realize how early it actually was. His boots thudded loudly beneath him, ringed fingers scraping the railing audibly as he climbed the stairs after the dog. “Where the hell are you taking me, Cyril?”

Last week, the dog had led Alfie in circles around the home, searching for his toy ball. Alfie thought the dog had known exactly where it was and just needed help getting it, but the mutt was actually trying to look for it and Alfie had been stupidly following the animal for an hour.

Cyril nudged the door open to the bedroom that you and Alfie shared. You were laying on your back, on top of the duvet because of how hot it was in the room. “Cyril.” Alfie hissed softly, not daring to move any further. “Come on, boy, she’s sleeping. We don’t want to wake her.” Alfie pressed his hand against the doorway and tore his eyes away from the dog who rejoined your side. Cyril laid his head on your belly and you, head rolled to face the wall, pretended to be asleep so you could see how Alfie would react. As presumed, the man took a small step forward, now daring to approach you since Cyril had and it didn’t seem to bother you at all. Your eyes were still extremely heavy, but you managed to stay conscious, very aware of the approaching man. Alfie studied your form, curiously allowing his eyes to roam over your small form. You had one hand fisted in the blanket, clutching the white fabric as you slumped on top of it. Your legs were pressed together, tucked into your tummy, directed toward the wall just like your face was. Alfie stepped over one of the unpacked boxes before settling himself down at your side. You bit back your smile when the man tripped lightly over your slippers, no doubt nearly losing his already horrible balance. “Fucking shoes.” He muttered, kicking the things beneath the bed.

You began to squirm, silently telling him that he was making entirely too much noise. The man was halfway on the bed, one knee pressed into the blanket at your side, one foot still on the ground. He was just now lowering himself down and on to the mattress when you rolled toward him. Alfie held his breath, afraid to wake and upset you, though he knew you wouldn’t be mad. Your dainty fingers outstretched blindly toward him and when they curled around his large arm, you gently tugged on him. “Where’ve you been?” You whispered, keeping your eyes closed. He ran his tired eyes along your smooth face, no doubt recently washed with the apple scented soap he loved so much. The man dipped his head and pressed his lips against your cheek, allowing his dampened lips to rest against your skin for a few moments before he brushed his nose against your ear and inhaled deeply. “Downstairs. Working as usual, pet.” He explained before getting comfy at your side. When he began to draw back so he could lay flat on his back, your body was quick to follow, subconsciously following his so you could morph together. His body fit against your own like missing pieces to a puzzle.

Your starry eyes opened, so full of emotion it made him wonder how one tiny person could hold so much feeling for anybody else, but especially feelings for a man like himself. He gave you a slow smile, mesmerized by your beauty and all you’d done was wake up. “Where’s my good morning kiss?” Alfie hummed, waiting for you to give him one. “I’m not feeling so good, love.” You explained, burying your features into his clothed chest. The material he wore was soft, almost silky feeling, and it was very appealing against your face. “I like it so much better when you sleep with me instead of downstairs at your desk.” You told him quietly, receiving a hearty chuckle from him as you attempted to change the subject. Your head bounced lightly against his chest as he laughed, belly rising and falling in little dips. You lifted your head to eye the man with a scowl, curious to know what was so funny about what you’d said.

“You think I prefer to fucking sleep at that desk down there, pet? It’s fucking hard as a rock, innit, and you’re definitely not there to play with my fucking hair, right, so I’d have to agree, yeah, I prefer sleeping right fucking here with you too.” You moved your hand along his ribs and up to his neck. Playing lazily with the scruff of facial hair that coated his handsome face, you sighed breathily. “Well then I’m going to have to start luring you into bed with me since you lose track of time and don’t come at a reasonable hour.” You started to sit up, but he pulled you back down against him. “Did you say you were sick, pet?” He asked softly, piercing eyes gliding along your face. He could see you were flushed. Your eyes were sunken and as he brushed his thumb along your chin, he could feel the heat burn his finger. “My god, pet, you’re fucking burning up.” The man sat up with his brows pulled together in a deep frown. He rolled you gently to the side before sliding off of the creaky bed and moving out of the room. You gave him a look of confusion before looking to Cyril, who was snoring loudly.

Your voice was entirely too strained and hurt too much for you to call out for the man to see what he was doing. Luckily whatever it was, he did it fast. His boots hit the wooden stairs loudly as he made his way back up and down the corridor to the bedroom. He held a bottle of orange medicine in one hand and a spoon in the other, wiggling the contents. “This’ll make you feel better.” He told you softly before approaching again. You backed up on the bed with a little frown. “Oh, Alfie.. I. I suddenly feel a lot better.” You stood up on the bed, biting on your lip. “I don’t need any medicine.” You jumped off the bed and your entire head felt as if it might disconnect from your neck and roll right to the floor. Clutching your heavy skull, you winced, lowering yourself down to the floor in a heap. Alfie set the medicine down to instantly tend to you. His stomach was twisted with worry as he hunched over your little body. “Come here, right, I’ll take care of you, pet.” You let out a breathy moan, fingers moving to your throat as your nose began to sting. The fiery pain went down the back of your throat and into your right nostril. “I hate being sick.” You whispered, still wrapped in a little ball on the floor. “You shouldn’t be near me, Alfie, you’re gonna get sick too.” The man huffed stubbornly. His strong hands wrapped around your body, gripping you beneath your thigh as he hooked his other arm around your middle and hoisted you up.

Alfie lifted you as if you were a mere doll. You were off the floor in seconds and instead nestled into his embrace. “If you don’t take the medicine, pet, you won’t fucking get better, right, then I will get sick, yeah, but if you take it— the sooner you’re better, the sooner I can kiss you, innit?” Your lower lip trembled, but you nodded softly. “Right, then.” The man sat down on the edge of the bed, cradling you on his lap. He leaned over to retrieve the medicine, smoothly twisting the cap off of the top before pouring some into the spoon. “Two spoonfuls, right, and after that, you’ll be feeling so much fucking better.” You inhaled deeply, eyes clouded over with fear. You hated taking medicine. The man lifted the first spoonful to your tightly closed lips, urging you softly to open your mouth. “Come on, pet.” You could feel his fingers as they massaged your lower back, rubbing the tension away. “I’ll kiss you afterward?” He offered. You, unable to pass up on that proposal slowly parted your lips. The metal spoon entered your mouth and suddenly you couldn’t close it. Alfie was stuck, hovering the utensil above your tongue with no other choice but to dump it out and force you to take it. He wouldn’t though. “Pet, you’ve got to close your fucking mouth, yeah, I can’t keep my arm like this all day.” You shut your eyes tightly and he swore he saw little tears filling the corner of your eyes. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against your ear, whispering sweet little nothings against your skin. It worked. Your mouth closed obediently around the spoon and with a shiver at the horrid taste, you swallowed it down. Alfie kept his word and gave you a soft kiss to your sticky lips. He could taste the medicine too and didn’t blame you for giving him a hard time.

“It’s not meant to fucking taste good, pet, right, it’s just meant to help you and it will within no time.” He filled the spoon up again and you gave an audible groan. “I don’t wanna take anymore.” You stood from his lap, but he smoothly pulled you back down. “Ah, ah, ah, you’ve already taken one, it won’t hurt to take one more.” Your jaw clenched knowingly, staring at the man. “I can’t, Alfie. I really can’t—“ The spoon and medicine were set down for a moment so he could wrap his arms around you and discuss a new proposal. “I’ll give you a bath if you take one more mouthful?” That caught your attention. Your fingers lazily pinched the front of his shirt, tracing the buttons and loose strings that had managed to come off of the material. “Will you JOIN me in the bath?” You asked, wanting to clarify what exactly his offer was. The man cracked a slow smile before nodding his head. Giving you a rewarding kiss on your chin, he lifted the spoon and filled it with the nasty, but necessary liquid. “But— only if you take this the second it’s in your mouth, okay?” You nodded your head lightly, placing your small hands on his shoulders. He gave you the medicine again and the second you swallowed, you nearly threw up. “That’s my girl.” He pat your back, ensuring you were okay. Rising, the man left the spoon and medicine on the bedside table. Did you have to take more later?

The skin of his neck was hot as you pushed your face against it, cuddling him tightly as he walked down the hall and toward the bathroom. His boot nudged the door open and you instantly felt better at the thought of the hot water sloshing across your slightly sweaty skin. Lowering your legs to the floor, the cold tile kissed the bottoms of your feet. “Right, undress pet, do you want any bubbles or anything?” You shook your head softly, moving over to the cabinet. “I’m alright, Alfie, really.” He could tell that you weren’t. Your legs shook, struggling to hold up your body. He ushered for you to sit down on the toilet with a grunt before he left the room to get hot water to fill the tub with. You stared down at your feet, toes wiggling slightly as you thought about Alfie. He was entirely too good to you. In all truth, you didn’t feel as if you deserved him. The man was always so eager to take care of you, ready to pamper you with love and affection. He was everything you’d need in life. You knew you were young, much younger than he was, but it didn’t bother you in the slightest. Despite the age difference, you two got on very very well. Yes, there were incredible differences, such as his temper, which was bound to be set off at any moment. You didn’t get angry easy. You got upset over silly things, but you didn’t reach the point to where you were absolutely fuming. Alfie did. He was as caring as you though, if not more. Everything he did was for you.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when he moved back into the room to dump the large bucket of scalding water into the basin. Rising from your position on the toilet lid, you peeled off your nightgown and instantly moved toward the tub. Alfie wasted no time before he was ogling you, bright eyes boring into your silky flesh. He swallowed quietly before averting his eyes to his own clothing. You lifted your leg over the side of the oversized tub and carefully lowered yourself down and into the hot water. “Oh.. god, that feels good.” The man cocked a brow at your words before lifting his hand to smooth down his facial hair. His stomach flipped eagerly, cheeks heating up. “Right, pet, I know you don’t feel good and all, but you’re fucking moaning, yeah, a lot, and it’s kind of workin me up, innit.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and you turned your head to look at him. Grinning slowly, your eyes flickered to his slacks. “Best get those off then, otherwise you’re going to strangle him.” Alfie snorted at your words before peeling off his shirt. Leaning over to retrieve your dress, he placed them both in the basket in the corner before he began to remove his trousers. “Quit looking.” He barked quietly as he could feel your penetrative eyes stuck on his form as he undressed. “Are we shy, Mr. Solomons?” The sounds of his ring rubbing against the button on his trousers filled the room, your eyes dropped to his thighs as he pushed the slacks down his legs and placed them in the dirty clothes basket as well. You bit your lip. You weren’t sure if the medicine was making you feel better or the fact that Alfie was taking his clothes off was. You straightened in the tub, water loudly splashing against the edges of the basin. “Alfie, hurry.” You whimpered quietly. “I’m cold.” The man cocked a brow, turning his attention toward you. His eyes flickered to your body, eyeing the way that the soapy water rose to your collarbones. You were definitely lying about being cold, but he was going to take advantage anyway and warm you up. Pinching the waistband of his boxers, he pushed them to the floor before rushing over to the bath. You, unable to keep your eyes way from the space between his thighs, flushed a bright shade of red. This didn’t go by unnoticed. As Alfie stepped into the tub and lowered himself down, he smirked at you. “Why’re you fucking looking at him like you don’t know who he is?” The man slumped against the side of the tub and your face darkened further. “You don’t really.. ever have him out unless it’s for sex.” Crawling toward the man, you easily slid on to his lap, curling up against his already damp chest. Cupping some of the water in your palm, you dropped it on his shoulders, watching the water droplets race along his skin.

Alfie moved his hand to your hip, guiding you closer to his body as he chuckled lazily in amusement. The tub was more than big enough for the pair of you which only amused him further. Of all the places to sit, you chose his lap. Your knees were either side of Alfie’s hips, wet hands lifting to cup his cheeks as you watched his features relax. “You know, Mr. Solomons, its good to sleep.” You whispered quietly, finger gliding along his beard. The man humphed quietly before inhaling deeply. “I lost track of time, pet.” You nodded lightly, leaning in to kiss him gently, being careful not to linger for too long. Maybe if you kept the kisses to a minimum, merely pecking him, then he couldn’t get sick. The logic was silly, but Alfie didn’t seem to mind at all. He kept trying to kiss you longer, deeper, but you would shake your head and simply pry him back. “Well, don’t lose track of time tonight. I like being held while I sleep.” You laid your head on his shoulder as if you were going to sleep right now and Alfie laid his hand securely on the back of your neck, holding you in place. The water wasn’t as scorching hot as it was when you had stepped in, but it still held a pleasant warmth. You fell silent and Alfie did the same. He lifted the bar of soap, running the white bar along your back and up to your shoulders. The man brushed your lengthy tresses away from your shoulder blades, watching your loosely curled strands fall from your warm back. You focused intently on the feel of his palms as they worked their way up and down, cleansing you to the best of his ability.

You sat up after a few moments so he could wash the front of your body and you couldn’t help but smile when the man hardly touched your breasts. “Alfie, they need cleaning to. You know you can touch me without it leading to sex, right?” Your nails roamed his shoulders, soothing the expression on his face. He looked offended in a way by your words. “I know that.” He muttered. “That’s my issue. I’m always ready for sex.” He muttered, head tilting back with a loud sigh. Your shaped brows pulled together in light confusion. You hadn’t thought about if he had been with anybody before you or how long ago those relationships had been. Shifting on his lap, you brought his soapy hands up to your chest, staring at him intently. “Well you held on for a while before me, didn’t you?” Your eyes shimmered with hope. It was odd, but you felt jealous to know that other women had been with your Alfie. The man straightened his head so he could see you better. “Yes, pet, I hadn’t had sex, right, in about a fucking year before you came along. A bit disappointing, really, innit?” Your slender arms curled around his neck, lips meeting his cheek. “No. I hadn’t even had sex before I met you, so I’m not the person to be judging.” The man inhaled deeply and you rose on his body with his intake of breath. “Right pet, but you’re a lot younger, yeah? So that’s a bit expected.” Alfie began to shift as the water grew cold and you stood helpfully as he moved to stand. The water droplets raced along your skin, down into the tub beneath you. “Hang on, Alfie.” You pressed your small hands to his taught stomach and stared up at him with the most sickeningly sweet expression he had ever seen.

“I’ll never understand,” His deep voice filled the bathroom. “how someone so fucking beautiful, yeah, and so fucking delicate, such as yourself, could love a fucking git like me.” You tutted beneath your breath, lifting yourself up and on to your tiptoes. The water moved around you as you leaned up, hands sliding back to their original position on his cheeks. You held them securely in your palms, thumbs tracing his facial hair. “Because, Alfie Solomons, you’re just as beautiful and just as delicate.” You whispered, eyes growing slightly droopy from how much love you felt for this human being. “You may be big and bad a lot of the time, but there’s a lot of good in you.” You kissed him softly. “I know that for a fact. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t think you were a good man.” You lowered yourself back down so you were stood flatly, but Alfie quickly hoisted you up and on to his hips. “You’re staying in my fucking arms all day.” Alfie stepped out of the tub and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. Would he stick by what he had just said? You weren’t sure, but you’d find out soon enough.

———————————————————

The air outside was skin-numbingly cold. It felt as if someone were wrapped around you, pricking you with a thousand tiny needles at once. You’d lost the feeling in your toes, but despite that, you still walked firmly alongside Alfie. Your fingers were as white as a ghost, completely pale as the pair of your were attacked by the strong gusts of ice cold wind. You let out a breathy whimper and Alfie instantly sensed your discomfort. The frigid temperatures never bothered the man. He was so use to being drowned in hot heat, he enjoyed the brief cold that embraced him. The giant at your side hooked his arm around your small shoulders and drew you into his big chest. He’d offered, insisted, on carrying you to the bakery, but you squirmed and pleaded for him to just let you walk because you knew his Sciatica would be bothering him later if he dared carry so much weight around. It wasn’t like you were heavy, but he shouldn’t be lifting something over twenty pounds for more than an hour altogether in one day, and here he was, trying to stick to his word and hold you every second he could. You pulled your rosy-colored face away from his chest and peered up at him. “My lips have gone numb, Mr. Solomons, I’m going to need a few kisses once we get to the bakery.”

You could feel his ribs tighten as his belly tensed with laughter. “Fuckin hell.” His loud chuckle was enough to warm the atmosphere. You felt hot all of a sudden as a blush crept up to spread along your already rosy, frozen cheeks. “Why does it amuse you when I try to be cute?” You whimpered once more, gasping softly as you hauled you in closer. “Because, pet, you are fucking cute, right, and it makes me happy by how much you love me, yeah, it does.” You soaked up the warmth that radiated off of him and when the bakery doors were within reach, you didn’t want to go inside. Would he still hold you this close once you were in his office and he had mountains of work to do? Alfie licked his lips. Setting his hand on your back, to urge you to part from him so he could open the door, the heavy wood groaned. He led you inside, fingers curled around your own. “Mornin’ lads, yes, Y/N’s here, it’s nothing new, right, so let’s keep fucking working, yeah?” Every man in the building lifted their eyes before instantly lowering them. Alfie’s coat practically floated along behind him as he moved toward his office. You were hot on his heels, eyes shimmering visibly as you climbed each step. Despite his sudden mood change and desire to be in his office, he hadn’t released your hand and he kept glancing back at you, ensuring you were right with him.

The door to his office closed softly behind the pair of you. Alfie pulled off his coat and hung it in the corner before outstretching his hand toward you, finger wiggling once. You pulled off your jacket and handed it over to the man so he could hang it. He pinched the chain of his spectacles and pulled the metal around his neck before setting the frame on the bridge of his nose. “Do you want to sit on the sofa, right,” He pointed to it. “Or do you want to sit with me?” The man peered at you over the rims of the lenses, before sidestepping his desk and lowering himself down and on to the chair. It didn’t take you long before you sat down on his thighs, settling down on his lap. “Will it be difficult for you to work with me sat here?” You asked him quietly, voice soft as you settled, back pressing firmly against his built chest. Alfie grunted quietly beneath his breath in response to your question. “No, pet, im good at multi-tasking, ain’t i?” You cocked a brow before turning your head to eye him over your shoulder. “I’m.. not too sure about that, Alfie. I think you get distracted rather easily.”

The man had his chin resting on your shoulder, staring down at the messy files on the desk before looking to you. “Right, I take it back, I’m fucking good at multitasking, yeah, if you’re not a part of that. Right, because you’re the biggest fucking distraction there is.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his words. “Alfie, how am I distracting when I’m just sitting here?” The man ushered to your lips. “You talk far too much, pet.” You didn’t take that as an insult. Alfie loved your voice and loved that you’d fill the silences with useless chatter. “Should I shut up then?” You whispered, biting your lip when he looked to you. “No.” He said simply, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “Talk as much as you want, right, but I do gotta get this work done.” “After,“ You halted him. Dragging his face back toward yours, you smiled. “you warm up my lips.” Alfie obliged with no hesitation. Leaning in, his warm lips melted against your cold ones and he suddenly realized it was no fucking wonder you were sick. The cold was just as obsessed with you as he was. He kissed you until your lips were swollen, red, and hot before drawing back to catch his breath. “Mh?” You nodded. “Very good, thank you.” You settled down, lazily messing with one of his hands as he began to write with the other. The paper on the desk was stained with Alfie’s cursive. The black ink was smudged across the tan paper and the side of his hand was no doubt just as smeared. You kept quiet for the most part, doing your best not to interrupt him because, despite what he had said, you knew if he couldn’t focus then his work would pile up and he would spend every night, wide awake and then he’d be angry the next morning due to lack of sleep. The clock in the corner ticked by slowly which you were grateful for. There wasn’t much to do, no, but you were sat on Alfie’s lap, alone in his office, able to listen to his breathing and his soft grunts when he would work something out. You hoped this day never ended. It was the perfect opportunity to study him without him getting defensive from your staring.

The noisy door to Alfie’s office opened and Ollie made his presence known. “Tommy Shelby is here to see you.” Alfie’s eyes lifted. “Haven’t you ever heard of fucking knocking?” He growled softly, dark eyes falling back to the paper in front of him. “Tommy Shelby, mate, that bloke’s always fucking coming around here.” Leaning back in his seat, he ignored Ollie’s looks to you, perched on Alfie’s lap like a child sat on Santa. You gave Ollie a pointed look before laying your elbows on the desk. Alfie looked at the arch on your back as you hunched forward, studying you momentarily. “I don’t want to see Tommy, Alfie.” You moaned out, staring at the door as Ollie shut it, going to retrieve Mr. Shelby. “He carries himself too confidently.” You whispered, adjusting yourself on his lap before you stood. His hand shot out to grip your hip and you could feel his fingers flex lightly, tempted to yank you back down, but you assured the man that you weren’t going far. “I’m just going to look at your books, Alfie, okay?” The man gave you a cautious look before releasing you. His dark eyes moved to the door as it opened and in walked Thomas Shelby. He stood in the doorway for a moment, messing lazily with the chain that hung beside his hip. He had one hand tucked into the pocket of his navy colored trousers, eyes stuck on Alfie as if the man had taken a knife and jabbed it into Mr. Shelby’s back. You watched him warily from the mirror in the corner. The dirty glass absorbed the image of Thomas, so you had a perfectly good view of him, though your back was to him.

Your fingers traced the dust infested hard covers, studying them. Alfie liked to read? Or was this just decoration for his office. Smiling briefly to yourself, you nearly flinched when Alfie’s deep voice sliced through the silence in the room. Looking over your shoulder at the man you’d given your heart to, you watched as he leaned back in his seat, not bothering to hold back his true feelings when it came to the dark haired man in the door. Tommy’s blue eyes were ice cold and threatening. “You crossed me, Alfie.” He said simply, narrowing his eyes to challenge the bearded man at the desk. You arched a brow at that. When? As if Tommy had heard your silent question, he stepped further into the room, pink lips parting. “Sabini told me the truth about the races. Said you had something to do with the little mishap we experienced two days ago.” The chair groaned beneath Alfie’s weight. “And you’ll take that fucking Italian’s word over mine, right, mate, I don’t have time for this.” He ushered to the door. “Go on, fuck off.” Tommy didn’t move. “I need more of an explanation than that, Alfie.”

You turned around slowly, cradling a red hardcover book in your palms. “You either trust him or you don’t.” You spoke up softly, tone holding an air of nonchalance. Tommy’s eyes shot to you. “I’m not talking to you, am I, pet, go back to your reading, yeah? You’ve always got to give your input, Y/N, it’s not needed. It never will be. This is a meeting between myself and Alfie.” Your brows lifted, creases effectively forming on the pale skin of your forehead. Little curls, that couldn’t be tamed, framed the smooth skin of your face. Brushing them away, your curious eyes moved to your baker as he began to stand. “You won’t fucking speak to her like that, Tommy, or we will, right, we’ll have some real fucking problems.” Alfie hooked his fingers in the belt loops on his trousers and pulled them up before directing his finger at the man. “I didn’t fucking cross you, mate, you’re a bit fucking ignorant if you believe a fucking word that Darbi fucking Sabini has to say. It’s a lie, innit, and you, yeah, you took the time to come all the way here from fucking Birmingham to ask me if I fucking crossed you?” Your dark eyes slid along Alfie. He was hunched over his desk, eyes full of anger as he planted his hands down roughly on the surface. You knew majority of his frustration was because of how Tommy had spoken to you. Cradling the dirty book to your chest, you looked to the man as he directed those fiery eyes of his to your form. “Apologize to her, Tommy.” The black-haired Barbie doll let his eyes move to you. Both men ogled you. “It won’t happen again.” He said flatly. That was as good as you were going to get, you assumed. “No, Tommy, right, I said fucking say the words, ‘I’m Sorry’.” You weren’t sure why Alfie thought Tommy would listen, but as Alfie hunched over to retrieve his revolver, you gave him a look of bewilderment. “Alfie-“ stepping toward him with wide eyes, your small hand curled in the sleeve of his shirt. “Hey, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Thomas, completely aware of what the bearded man was leaning over to grab, remained absolutely calm, eyes rolling lightly. “I’m sorry.” He muttered. He came here to ensure that he and Alfie could remain on good terms, not to ruin what little trust was left between them. “Alright, Alfie? I’m sorry.” The man at your side loosened his grip around the handle of the gun before looking at you, then back to the Barbie in the doorway. “Right, then. I told you, mate, I didn’t fucking double cross you, yeah, so, if that’s all you’ve come here to fucking ask, you can be on your way.” The room was uncomfortably silent so you busied yourself with the chipped part of the desk in front of you. Picking at the wood, you scratched the surface until pieces of it were loose. Dusting them away and shyly on to the floor, you cleared your throat as Ollie poked his head in again. “Alfie, I need you!” There was no time for explanation. The tone in Ollie’s voice was urgent enough. “I’m a bit busy here, Ollie-“ The wide-eyed boy cut his boss off. “Yeah, but I need you, now, Alfie. It’ll only take a second!” He assured the man, eyes flickering to you and then Thomas and then back to Alfie.

The floorboards creaked beneath Alfie as he rushed across the room and brushed past Thomas. “What the fuck is it?” You jumped slightly at the loud boom of his voice. You could hear him descending the steps and when you could no longer hear him, in any sense, you realized you were alone with Thomas Shelby. The air in the room was as stiff as your body. You didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t speak, for fear that Thomas would take advantage of how vulnerable you were and rip into you some more with his harsh words. Your avoiding eyes moved toward the bookshelf, silently counting the amount of hardcovers Alfie owned, pressed together so tightly in the casing, it was almost difficult to drag one out. You crossed the floor slowly to create more distance between your body and Tommy’s, but as you stepped toward the corner, the man followed. “I think it would be better for you to wait in the hall.” You said softly, not turning your head at all to look at him. Your chipped fingernails brushed away the dust that coated the books so you could read the titles.

“If you think I’m afraid of Mr. Solomons, pet, you need to re-evaluate your thoughts.” He muttered. You could feel his hot breath waft over the revealed skin of your shoulder, alerting you of just how close he was standing. You spun around, giving yourself the opportunity to knee him right between his legs if need be. “I didn’t say you were afraid. I said it would be wise.” It was heard, in your words, that you had your jaw clenched and teeth gritted together. The man lifted one of his fingers and guided the ring covered digit toward your cheek, no doubt to brush the strand of hair away that never ceased its mission to annoy you. “He will cut that finger off.” You whispered softly, cheek already burning and he hadn’t even touched you yet. One minute, Thomas looked as if he may gently brush the strand away, the next you felt a sharp tug on the back of your head. You’d been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t felt his fingers wrap in your thick locks. Your scalp was on fire from the sharp tug, wincing instantly. You opened your mouth to cry out, but he placed his other hand against your mouth, silencing you. “Listen to me.” He warned, moving his lips to your ear. “I know Alfie crossed me, but he’s never one to admit to his mistakes, right, so you let him know if he does that again, it’s you that will suffer.” Shoving you roughly away from him, your back hit the bookshelf and the entire wooden casing shook. Thomas yanked you out of the way, easily saving you from being crushed by the oversized cabinet. A loud creaking filled Alfie’s office before the entire thing toppled over. If you would’ve been underneath that, it probably would’ve killed you. You let out a loud gasp when your rescuer, and coincidentally the man who had caused that little accident, pushed you down on the flat side of the bookshelf. “Now then.” He stared down at you. “Let’s have a little fun until Alfie comes running back up here, eh?” He wanted you. And he had wanted you from the very first time you’d accidentally entered the office and interrupted his meeting with Alfie.

Alfie was downstairs, head buried beneath one of the machines that had stopped working. The flat of his back was pressed into the hard floor, fingers growing dirtier by the second. Twisting the gears to get them back into their proper state, he let out breathy grunts of frustration, doing his best to hurry up and fix the damn thing. His knees bent, feet pushing roughly into the floor to guide himself further beneath the machine. “This fucking thing’s always giving the lot of you a hard fucking time, innit. Need to just throw this one out, yeah, it’s fucking useless.” Alfie’s men were gathered around him in a huddle, watching him squirm to try and fix the machine for the third time that week. “We’ll find a new one, boss.” One of the lads spoke up. Alfie didn’t respond, he merely grunted, and that was good enough for the boy. “Ollie, go get me pick out of my top drawer, yeah, I need that fucker so I can unscrew this.” Poking his head out from under the machine, the man licked his lips and waited for Ollie to scurry off.

Ollie climbed the stairs to retrieve the needle-like pin. He was much quieter on the steps when ascending them. There was no booming footsteps or loud huffs of annoyance. He didn’t mutter under his breath, swearing every other word. The boy turned the corner sharply and opened the door to the office. The clipboard in his hand clattered to the floor, dark eyes moving over your body and then Tommy’s. The bookshelf Tommy had you laid upon was resting halfway on top of Alfie’s desk. The little plant you’d purchased for Alfie a while ago was now shattered on the floor and majority of the books had come free from their slot. Some books were open, face down on the floor, others were slung all the way across the room to rest beside the door, but the casing wasn’t what Ollie was focused on. “What the hell are you doing!” Ollie barked loudly. The sight was horrifying. Tommy had you pinned to the wooden shelf, his hand desperately searching for a way beneath your mess of skirts. He was pressing feverish kisses to your hot skin, evidently ignoring the way you were squirming to get free. Thomas halted at the intrusion, eyes dark and clouded over with lust when he looked to the boy in the door. “Get out, Ollie. I’ll be finished in a minute.” His voice was deep and husky, thoughts obviously so hazy from his need for sex, he didn’t give a shit about being caught. You let a loud groan of plea leave your throat, dark eyes locking on to Ollie’s. The boy didn’t like you, but he respected you and never wanted to see you hurt. “Get off of her!” Ollie’s chest broadened and his feet hit the floor loudly as he approached. “Now!” His hand wrapped around Tommy’s shoulder, angrily pulling the man back. The two stumbled, both eager to get the other one out of the way. Thomas was determined to knock Ollie out and continue with what he was doing, Ollie was determined to try and knock Thomas out and then get you out of the room.

You stumbled to your feet, adjusting your dress quickly. The front of the fabric had fallen down significantly and your cheeks were flushed a red hue. The entire room was hot and you could feel your eyes beginning to water. Ollie growled, slamming Tommy up against the wall before roughly hitting him in the gut. You gasped sharply at the blow, but Thomas was unaffected. He lunged forward, yanking the boy to the floor with a growl. They continued to roll around on the floor, making even more of a mess in Alfie’s office. The laces on your gown were torn and your hair, previously neatly pinned out of your face, messily hung around your shoulders, still loosely tied in its clip. Alfie was growing agitated so he slid out from underneath the machinery, annoyance filling him quickly. “Where the hell is ollie!” He barked loudly. In this corridor, it was difficult to hear anything else because of how cemented the walls were.

“Sir, there’s a fight in your office!” One of the boys shouted. Alfie nearly broke his neck, swiveling around so fast. The soles of his boots crushed anything in their path, charging down the long hall and back into the main area of the bakery. His first thought was you. He could hear it now. Very clearly. Ollie was grunting and growling, Tommy was swearing and you were shouting for them to stop. Well— for Tommy to. Alfie climbed the stairs with his shoulders broadened and his lips wet. He was ready to shout. You prepared yourself, the second you heard him approaching. “What the fuck is going on!” The large man came to a stop in the doorway, studying the scene. His books were thrown this way and that, his right hand man was pinned to the floor, nose bloody and cheek swollen. Thomas was breathing heavily and although Ollie had hit him a few good times, there were no marks. His eyes dragged across the room to find you, cowering away in the far corner where nobody could touch you. The hard expression on his face seemed to harden further when he caught sight of the tanned laces undone, hanging around your chest. They were torn, making it impossible for you to tie back up. His fingers curled inward, ready to knock someone out. He looked to the men. Which one of them was it? He questioned silently, scanning the pair.

Murder. You saw it floating in Alfie’s gaze, the second he looked at you. Stepping over the messy floor, you pushed yourself into his bear-like arms and clung to him. Nobody could hurt you when he was around. Alfie locked his arm around you securely, ensuring that if anyone even dare to try and approach, they wouldn’t be able to touch you. When Thomas finally lifted himself off of Ollie, he adjusted his blazer and then licked his lips. “Well, I’ll be on my way then.” He spoke gruffly, pushing his messy black hair out of his eyes. You stiffened in your baker’s arms at the voice and the gangster instantly knew what had happened. “Ollie.” He barked. “Would you please take her downstairs and make sure she’s alright, mh?” His right-hand man was up in seconds. Alfie wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t need an explanation of what had happened. Ollie wiped the blood away from his lip before he moved toward you, smoothly grabbing ahold of your arm before hurriedly leading you away from the room. The second you and Ollie had reached the bottom of the stairs, you heard the roar from Alfie’s lips. The words that spewed from his lips were incoherent, simply muffled, but loud. Ollie pulled you from your thoughts, leading you down the hall and into a room of safety. He needed to tend to his wounds, but he needed to keep a close eye on you as well. He could tell you were distant, no doubt scared after what had happened. “Sit down there.” He ushered to the sofa in the corner. “Alfie’s probably going to be a while, so just get comfy.” Opening the white cabinet, Ollie dragged out a first aid kit. The inside was jam-packed with necessities, but he simply pulled out some rubbing alcohol and a tissue. You watched him intently, studying the way he wiped the blood away that fell from his nose before he stuck a clean swab of tissue in his nostril to prevent more bleeding. He rubbed the alcohol along the cut on his upper lip, not wincing in the slightest before he gave attention to the mark on his cheek. Lifting the icepack, he turned to set it in the icebox in the corner before looking to you as you spoke up. “Thank you.” Your voice was sweet, it reminded him of the days he spent as a child, laying outside in the garden with his younger sister as they ate popsicles and watched the butterflies fly above them. He frowned at the brief memory before looking to you. He wasn’t sure why he had had such a strong disliking toward you, but after today, things would surely change. He opened another cabinet and handed you a new tie to lace through the holes on the front of your dress. “You’ll need to re-tie that before Alfie comes down or else he’s going to continue to be angry.” You nodded in understanding, tongue tracing your lips. “I’ve got to go check that everything’s okay, I’m going to lock this door. Only Alfie has the other key to get in, so you’ll be okay.” Again, you nodded, giving no verbal reply. Ollie smiled lightly before excusing himself. Leaving the room, you heard the lock click audibly before you were left in the silence, alone with your thoughts as you changed the lace out on your dress.

———————————————————

Shadows. They loomed over you. The floor beneath you was wet, ice cold against your bare skin. The solid ground nipped at your pale flesh, sticking to you with an impossible grip. You were in the middle of the alley, staring up at the dark buildings that towered higher than any buildings you’d ever seen before. The roofs nearly kissed the moon, stars shining brightly above, peaceful opposed to what you were experiencing on the ground below. Hushed whispers pressed against your ear and hot fingers ran along your body. You couldn’t move. The scream you wanted to let free was caught in your chest, blocked by the bubble in your throat. You couldn’t make a sound. The air was so cold, it froze your lungs with every inhale. It was more painful to breathe right now, than to suffer the itching burn in your chest from suffocation. You were alone. And yet, not. You could feel the presence of someone lurking as they looked down at you. Touching you. Feeding off of you. Your fear was their reward and boy, they were succeeding. You dared to lift your arm, but the only thing you accomplished was more pain. The ground clung to your skin, threatening to pull your flesh from your body, so you stopped struggling. You lay still and waited for whatever was to come.

“Y/N?” Your name echoed down the alley. “Y/N.” He said again, a little harsher. You shut your eyes, trying to plug your ears mentally since you couldn’t do it physically. The world around you seemed to crumble when you recognized the voice to belong to none other than Tommy Shelby. “Y/N.” He hissed again, daring you to open your eyes, but you wouldnt. You refused to look at the cocky, blue-eyed, cigarette-loving, full of himself, bastard. “Y/N!” Your eyes shot open and you were back in the room Ollie had left you in. Your breathing was heavy, loud and jagged. “You’re alright.” Alfie assured, arms curling around you securely so he could drag you off of the sofa and on to his lap on the floor. “It was just a bad dream, yeah, just a bad fucking dream, pet.” Your heart felt like it was being squeezed. Only the alley had been a dream, not the events that took place in Alfie’s office. Your arms locked around his neck in a vice and you tried to mold your body into his, wanting nothing more than to become one so you could escape the horrible memories crowding your brain. Alfie kissed your shoulder gently, drawing you into him as close as he was able. “Pet, it’s okay, right, I’ve handled it.” You drew back to inspect the man, ensuring he didn’t have any marks. Your eyes raked down his face, along his neck and then arms. He was completely okay— well, until you saw his hand. His knuckles were already tinted purple, no doubt bruised from whatever damage he had done to his mate, Thomas. The very thought of the name made your throat close and the bile rise. Alfie brushed your hair away from your face, studying you for marks. You had clumsy teeth imprints in your skin from where the fucking peaky bastard had dared to try and mark you. Alfie kissed your sore, before parting his lips and leaving his own mark on your skin. It wasn’t the time for this, but god it felt good, and it made you forget about what had originally been there. His beard tickled your sensitive skin and created a delicious contrast with the hickey he left behind. “I’m sorry I left you alone with him, pet. I should’ve fucking known, yeah, he was being a fucking—“

Straightening on his lap, you pressed your lips against his own to silence him. “Shut up. I don’t want you blaming yourself. It was nobody’s fault. Nobody’s, but his.” Brushing Alfie’s hair out of his eyes, you bit your bottom lip visibly. “My sickness is gone.” You pointed out, attempting to draw a smile from him. You didn’t want to talk about the events from earlier. Not right now anyway. His eyes lifted to yours, brows furrowing in confusion. He’d never understand how you could go through something like that, but still be so optimistic in the end and focus on the positives. The man grunted breathily. “Because you took your fucking medicine, yeah, see, I told you.” Your heart skipped a beat at the grin he let escape and your lips met his again for a delicate kiss. “Mh, yes, yes you did, thank you.” Giving him all the credit because you loved to see Alfie with a bit of an ego boost, you pushed your face into his neck and let the rest of the world fade away. Alfie was everything in the world to you. “I need to go by my grandmas and pick up a few more things tomorrow if you want to go with me?” You whispered sleepily as the silence washed over the room and you couldn’t think of anything else to say. Alfie gave a short nod, afraid to move. He could feel you drifting off and he figured maybe if he let you nap, but he stuck around to hold you, then you wouldn’t have any nightmares. “Anything you want, pet.” Your breaths were much deeper over a span of just a few seconds and before you were lost in a world of obliviousness, you sleepily whispered in response to his words. “All I want is you.” The entirety of Alfie’s body relaxed. There was no tension in his muscles as he held you against him. He smiled in your hair, nuzzling into you further. He had to agree, all he wanted in life was you as well.

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Part 1   Part 2  Part 3   Part 4   Part 5    Part 7   Part 8     Part 9

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Hi, guys! I hope you enjoy this part!! Im sorry I’m falling behind ): I will be posting another story today, I’m just not sure how many or which one yet!! ❤️ thank you for being so patient with me and remember requests are always open ( even though I am slacking on posting omg ahah )