#so like... maybe start caring about antisemitism eh?

[intern-seraph]

so now that there has been a spike in antisemitic hate crimes (in some areas rising over 1000%), synagogues have been vandalized, firebombed, and literally razed, jews have been assaulted in public, jewish businesses have been vandalized, jewish homes and businesses have been marked with the star of david, and a man broke into his jewish neighbor's home intending to murder the entire family for being jewish, are we gonna get an apology from the people who were mocking jews for being afraid of an increase in antisemitism after oct. 7th?

(this is, of course, a rhetorical question. we all know that those people never cared about jews.)

[matan4il]

Hey, feel free to ignore - I found your blog after going through jumblr for a bit and I just want to get some stuff off my chest to someone who understands… My dad and his family are Jewish, so even though I’m technically not, I consider my Jewish heritage to be a big part of my identity. I have a *very* Jewish name to the point where I usually go by my middle name for safety reasons. (You never know who someone is when you introduce yourself, eh.) My dad has often said to me that I’m being overly cautious, that antisemitism is uncommon where we live. I had a conversation with him the other week where he expressed his shock and horror at the quick and monumental rise in visible global antisemitism… it broke my heart. In real life, I feel like the only people who care about this are my jewish friends and family. I feel very alienated and… I’m caught between apologising for not speaking Hebrew, for not being religious, and then on the other side I always gotta be on the defensive, always lead with “I’m not a Zionist”, always measure every word of support that I’m extending to Jews or Israel. I’m so tired…

Hi Nonnie! I am just gonna start by hugging you SO BIG!

I feel like antisemitism (or maybe its overt expression) has been on the rise for a long time, but it's been happening so gradually, and a lot of it has either been focused on the ultra orthodox community (those who are visibly Jewish, and who are very mistrusting of their non-Jewish surroundings, so they're less likely to report it to the authorities), or it's been disguised as anti-Zionism, and neither form got too much attention from non-Jewish news outlets. So I totally get your dad's surprise, at the same time that I am not surprised at all, even though I'm still shocked by the audacity of so openly justifying an actual massacre.

I am so sorry that you feel so alienated! Please remember you don't actually have to speak Hebrew to be a good Jew. My grandma was a Holocaust survivor, she tried to learn Hebrew, but never managed to absorb more than a few words. And she was a fantastic Jew, not just a good one, who really reflected some core Jewish values, like how she never stopped being so incredibly fair and kind to others, despite the unjust brutality she had suffered when a part of her family was murdered by the Nazis in Auschwitz, and another was murdered by their own neighbors. Same goes for being religious. There are LOADS of Jews who aren't, because being Jewish is so much more than just the religious aspects of our identity.

Also, I hope it's okay to share with you my POV on patrilineal Jews, but feel free to ignore this if it's not helpful. So why does the halacha (Jewish law) only recognize matrilineal Jews? Well, two thousand years ago, maternity was much easier to determine than paternity. Also, back then fathers barely dealt with their kids' education. It was basically on mothers, and that means they were the ones who passed on a sense of their culture, values, beliefs and world view to their kids. At the time, Jews also didn't have surnames, so that form of passing on this identity through the father didn't exist yet.

What I find interesting is, that this means Judaism says ONE parent who is DEF Jewish, and who passes on to you a meaningful Jewish identity, is enough. Today, when paternity can be determined for sure, I think that if we had rabbis with a great enough rabbinical stature across the Jewish world, the halacha would have been changed to include patrilineal Jews. In any case, I personally count patrilineal Jews no less than matrilineal ones. IMO, it's most of all a question of whether your Jewish identity is meaningful to you. And since it is, to me you're Jewish, period. *hearts*

And even if we look at it from the narrower POV from the halacha, just remember that it does recognize you, even if not religiously. Patrilineal Jews are called "Mi'Zera Yisrael," of the seed of Israel. So yeah, IDK... but I hope this helps!

As for not being a Zionist, of course you don't have to be. But I hope whatever your position is on the right of Jews to have a state in our ancestral homeland, it's not dictated by the hope that this will help people accept you. People who can't do that, unless you throw the majority of Jews (between Israeli ones, and the ones who support the Jewish state) under the bus, they will forever be capable of turning on you in a heartbeat. If they think it's wrong to murder you, but only so long as you live outside of Israel, or denounce it, they will never be people you can truly rely you.

I hope you're feeling better, having shared! And again, IDK if my words helped in any way, but I hope they did. Please don't hesitate to write me, and let me know either way, if you feel like it. Take good care of yourself! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[onetruesirius]

Israel is a state

Palestine is another arguable state, but it's technically the name of the region?...

they would BOTH exist

on the same land.

Jewish people (when I say this, I mean the disapora, who left the area under.... iffy circumstances and oppression) understandably, since the territory is a technically part of their ethnic heritage, feel tied to the land. Which is why there is Israel the state and Israel the ethnic identity, which are 2 different things.

Palestinians [arabs, jews, and christians!] are living on the same land and have lived there over a thousand years, and understandably feel tied to the land, because, ya know. They live there.

The thing is Israel [the state, not the ethnic identity] is a really British colonial project, so a bunch of racially white and socioculturally Jewish [and therefore persecuted in Europe and America because funny thing??? Christians tend to uhh fucking hate Jews for literally the most petty reasons imaginable] people are coming from Europe to occupy the territory, the territory that was traditionally called Palestine.

At firat they were trying to half-integrate and they had kind of the idea of "hey we're like you Palestinians, we come from here too!" but their white ethnonationalism boner got too big and it started being about *Israel*, an ethnostate for the Israel ethnic group, to make their "Zion", which, hey that's where Zionism comes from—rather than about a shared identity rooted in the region [Palestine].

Now... The funny thing about Zionism is that it's all ethnic cleansing all the way down. Not only are they racially white people displacing racially brown people [SOME OF WHOM SHARE THEIR SAME RELIGION BTW] but they're making arguments that the ONLY place that Jews will EVER be safe is in a fucking ethnostate. Which uh is really antisemitic??? because it plays into the antisemitic "i dont care where you go, as long as it's away from me!". The Nazis were (ironically enough) planning an Israeli state as a place to go for when they would ethnically cleanse their Jews, before they committed to their other plan, which was The Big One. When Zionism came around it was all "you know, Nazis? you're RIGHT about Jews, we SHOULDN'T be here, we should go somewhere else—let's go back to our ancestral homeland. Oh it doesn't matter that there are already people living there, they're brown anyways we can slaughter them without question, and we should, because there's things in the old holy texts that say ethnic cleansing is good because it means we get the land and not someone else!"

And of course America saw that and was like "HOLY SHIT YES WE LOVE BEING ANTISEMITIC LET'S DO LIBERIA 2" and also??? most Zionists, statistically speaking, are White Protestant Christians, not even Jews at all—they just want Jewish people OUT of their countries and packed into Palestine [the region] so that their glorious apocalypse in which we all die, can happen.

So it's.. a whole thing. Without antisemitism, there is very little need for Israel the state, for Israel the ethnic group.

But anyways that's... a reasonably good explanation for why they'd identify as Israeli rather than Palestinian. Palestine... eh, yeah it could be the fledgling Palestinian state, but the way I've used it here is more in reference to the region overall, while Israeli is either the nation [nationalism + supremacy etc] or the ethnic identity, which is usually more a diaspora thing, because, again, a lot of these Israelis are not technically immediately from the region, most of them are from Europe [tho there are some in Africa and further east]. I mean, obviously their ancestors maybe a dozen generations back were indigenous, and also brown like current Palestinians, but like, a lot of Israelis are not recently indigenous.

And that's a sparknotes of it.

So ... like ... I'm genuinely confused as to why many Jews(?) consider Israel as their homeland and not Palestine tbh?? The reason I say this is because Jesus was born in Jerusalem which is in Palestine. If y'all could kindly educate me on this I'd greatly appreciate it.

[boogiewrites]

Uptown Girl

Young Alfie Solomons One Shot

Word Count: 18,100+

Summary:   My imagining of a young Alfie Solomons, finding his way in the East End as a boxer. He meets a West End girl, Lucy, who represents everything he's not, everything he wishes he could be. A young love blooms, feeling lost in their own world together where it doesn't matter what's expected of her or what religion he is. But soon, they're both faced with the hard truth of the world they live in as they're faced with the wrath of Lucy's mother and the effects of WW1. It's stated in the story, but neither are underage. Alfie would canonically be around 22-23 at the time and Lucy is nearly 20.

Warnings/Tags: FLUFF. ANGST. Explicit Sexual Content: Loss of Viriginity. Boxing/Fighting. Language. Period-typical sexism. Antisemitism. Young love. Romance. Lovers Reunited. Happy ending. 

My One Shot for Valentine’s Day and for hitting another follower milestone!

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Lucy sat in the midst of a dirty, dusty, testosterone filled room full of shouting and drunk men from the east side of London. She sat with her hands clasped in her lap with wide blinking eyes trying to look like she wasn't scared of this new sort of people she found herself surrounded with. Her best friend from childhood, Marnie was next to her, shouting and cheering on her boyfriend who was currently in the ring in front of them in a boxing match. Lucy had never seen such a thing before. Men hitting each other until they were blue and bleeding for money? It was such a shocking truth to see it that she found herself studying the shiny new shoes she'd worn under a pastel dress that would most certainly need to be scrubbed after she got home.

Marnie had always been the adventurous one. A real opposite to Lucy's cautious and sheltered life. Lucy often wondered why they were friends at all, except for having grown up next to each other, they were quite different. But Marnie's father had earned his wealth off the labor of his own back, not being born into it like Lucy's parents. The linger bit of East End wisdom she'd received from him as she grew up was apparent with the way she blended in. The differences didn't seem so strikingly obvious until they'd ventured into womanhood together. Marnie was a mess of anger and hormones, staying out late, smoking and playing cards and flirting with every boy that looked her way. Lucy had, up to this point, been well behaved and meek. Taught by her father to be a prim and proper lady and a well-to-do gentleman would come and ask for her hand and all she would have to worry about were babies and keeping a home. But with the recent passing of her father, causing her to question everything about her own wants and desires with being left to own devices. Her mother now too busy trying to tie up loose ends from his sudden passing. Lucy found herself full of compulsive emotions and behaviors that were so unlike her that she wasn't sure what to make of it.

With her mother working and taking care of her siblings, she found herself wanting to escape. She was angry at her father for dying and leaving them. Angry at her mother for not stopping it somehow. For giving attention to the little ones exclusively and forgetting her as she was the oldest. Filled by the usual teenage urges, she found herself having more and more in common with Marnie. Marnie was her guide to the other side. Her window into how the other half lived. And currently, she was showing her that a woman could in fact scream and spit and hit just like a boy.

"Come on now, Lucy, get up! You have to scream for him or he won't win!" she shouts close to her face, jerking her up as she went back to her shouting for her East End boyfriend Jack. "Loosen your damned knickers girl, you're being such a posh little cunt right now." she laughs and shoves Lucy's arm.

"Marnie!" she gasps at first, but soon a giggle follows the blush in her cheeks for hearing such language.

"Stop making me look bad and if you don't look so bloody out of place maybe we can find a boy to put up with you!" she laughs.

"Okay." she mumbles, taking a deep breath, then proceeding to cough on the smoke in the air. She uses her rage, that kind that lies within every teenager, ready to burst at the most inconvenient of times. She thinks about how she wanted to rebel, to break free of how she'd been living, to be more like Marnie, so boastful and full of vigor. She wanted to be wild and free, a new person entirely.

She begins clapping, watching the fight and trying to piece together the bits she'd been informed of by her friend as she lets her muscles loosen, trying to take in the energy of her surroundings. A little "Woo!" escapes her as she giggles at herself as the two boys go to their corners of the ring. Marnie's Jack had his back facing them, but that didn't stop Marnie from screaming. The other boy who was facing them, a dark gingery lad with a strong nose and lean arms, a tattoo on his arm, sits and pants, being spoken to by the older men surrounding him. Instead of watching Jack she found her eyes on the other boy.

"Who is the other boy fighting Jack?" she asks, leaning close to Marnie and watching the sweat drip off of the mystery lad, making her feel some sort of way she wasn't sure about.

"That's Alfie. They're mates."

"But yet they fight?" she asks with high pitched curiosity and a tilt of her head.

"Yeah, all the boxing lads know each other. Jack and Alfie practice together, so they fight each other sometimes. Same weight class 'n all." she shrugs and goes back to shouting and ignoring Lucy.

Her eyes stay on him, and for so long she finds herself holding her hands up and clasps as she was when she was applauding but she was no longer thinking about that. This boy was absolutely lovely. A soft face marked with bruises, a sleekness to him the other boys seemed to lack appealed to her. She stares so long she startles when his eyes meet hers as he sits during the rest between the rounds. Her eyes go wide and she grabs Marnie's arm in the sudden flush of her face and the speeding up of her heart.

Alfie sees a spot of lightness in the crowd. Like something that wasn't supposed to be there. He akined her to a flower that would poke through the filthy cobblestones in the spring. A bright little dandelion, not yet bloomed and trampled by its surroundings. Her fair appearance, so clean and crisp and unlike anyone else in the room. She looked like a proper lady. But what would a proper lady be doing at a small fight like this? He notices Marnie, his mate Jack's girl next to her, broad and screaming. The girl next to her was the opposite. Light hair, light skin, some lovely shade of blue dress that he'd only ever seen in the sky during springtime. He thought surely she wasn't the stick in the mud that Jack had moaned about Marnie complaining about all the time. He smirks at the reaction his glance lights in her. Not paying attention to what his coach was saying, watching her grab her friends arm and tittering about and acting like their eyes had never met. He hoped whether win or lose his plans for the night might be looking him in right in the face.

"He looked at me!" Lucy says in a rushed way, her innocence showing her eyes and demeanor.

"What are you on about?" Marnie laughs, looking at her friend.

"The other boy..."

"Alfie?"

"Yes, he looked at me!"

"Well there aren't many girls here, and he knows me so it would be perfectly sensible for him to look at you, eh?" she shakes her head and rolls her eyes at her friend's innocence.

Lucy pretends to be interested in something in her purse until the round starts again. But promptly forgets it as the bell sounds and her eyes are back on him again. She watches with great interest, eyes wide but not with fear now. She finds herself clapping when he gets a hit in on Jack, Marnie elbowing her and laughing, but loving that she was finding a reason to get into it. As they circle, he looks over to her again, and in a foolish moment that only a young lad might take a chance to lose his focus for a pretty girl, he gives her a smile. Her posture straightens, her eyes fluttering as a bashful smile appears on her face. She really was lovely, he thought.

His thoughts are knocked out of his head literally, eyes squeezed shut as Jack connects to his face, stumbling his back. He shakes his head hard, and in that rush of young rage that they all knew about intimately, his pride is hurt in front of a pretty girl and he no longer thinks, only attacks.

Lucy's hands go to her mouth when Alfie is struck in the face so hard. The motherly instincts within her want to stop the fight and help the poor boy but she knows that's silly. Her eyes go wide with concern as Alfie's fists start pummeling down on Jack. Marnie shouting curses at them both. As quickly as she'd blushed at his dangerously charming smile under his bright blue eyes, the fight ends with his arm being raised above his head.

He comes out of his rage as his arm is jerked over his head in victory, the bell signaling his trained brain to stop as he blinks rapidly and comes out of the veil of embarrassment.

"Fuck, sorry, mate." he groans at Jack who his flat on his arse on the mat.

"What the fuck, Alfie?" he spits the words first, followed by blood as Alfie helped pull him up, a hard but apologetic look on his face.

"The hit to the face knocked me into survival mode, mate." he says patting his friend on the back.

Lucy cheers happily, a slight bounce to her feet as Alfie is proclaimed the winner.

"Oh fuck off." Marnie groans, rolling her eyes. "Suppose I'll be gettin' it rough again tonight." she sighs and moans, picking up her purse and Lucy mirrors her.

"What?"

"When he loses." he motions with an air of exhaustion to the boys in the ring. "Always fucks me rather hard."

"Oh." Lucy looks away and tries not to be such a child to blush at the statement. "What about when he wins?"

"Oh he's happy 'n full of beer instead of whiskey and he's rather pleasant and soft." she purses her lips and sighs. "Looks like I'll be drinking to make up the difference tonight. C'mon now Luce, they'll meet us at the pub."

"They?"

"Yes, he and Alfie drink together, come on ya ninny." she takes Lucy's hand and they move out to the street. On the walk to the pub Marnie talks, but Lucy is too busy wondering if after a win, would Alfie be a soft lover as well?

-------

Lucy had been on dates, she'd been kissed by boys and even let one touch her over he clothes before, but when it came to actual attraction she was very inexperienced. She'd gone out with Marnie with the West End boys, but they seemed highly suspect to her. They were so nice and proper and then the moment you got them alone they were all over you. She didn't appreciate dishonesty and she'd sworn off them off after a while, electing to not go out at all if there would be any posh boys around.

So when Lucy felt her stomach flutter as Alfie and Jack walked towards them in the pub it was a new sort of feeling.

"'Ello Marnie, girl." Jack says, charging towards her squeezing her about the waist tightly and planting a big kiss on her.

"You must be Lucy." Alfie says, ignoring the currently snogging couple next to him just as Lucy was trying to.

"Yes, and you're Alfie." she says with a calm voice that she's rather proud to have mustered up.

"That would be me." he smiles. A man comes up and slaps him on the back hard in praise, Lucy is impressed that Alfie doesn't seem to give much to such a harsh gesture. She surely would've been facing down on the floor if someone touched her in such a way. "I've never seen you with her before. You from Marnie's part of town?" He knew the answer, she was so clearly not from his side of town, but still, he wanted to take a chance.

"We're neighbors. Have been since we were born." she explains.

"I mean no offense, love, but you seem like you're from the East, and she surely doesn't." he laughs.

"Well Marnie's a bit..." she side-eyes her friend, nose to nose with her boyfriend who were whispering to each other, his hands firm on her bum. "Naturally inclined to go against what her mother says." she grins.

"And what of you Lucy? Your mum let you come out here?"

"No." she smiles and he mirrors it, finding it sickeningly sweet. "I came with Marnie to support Jack. But it seems that wasn't a wise decision." she holds back a smirk. "I told my mom I was going out with Marnie and she didn't question it."

"Let's go back to my flat. I've got liquor there we can drink 'n me 'n this little minx can grieve our loss." Jack interrupts, laughing and clearly already been drinking somehow, Marnie hangs around his neck like a pendant.

"You gonna come with?" Alfie asks, holding his hand out to her after he stands. She looks at it in consideration for a moment. She'd seen what those hands could do but she didn't find herself afraid of them.

"Have to watch Marnie don't I?" she says with a shrug, being so proud of herself as she finished her drink in one go and took his hand without hesitation.

Back at Jack's flat, she sits on the settee with Alfie. Marnie and Jack practically break down the door to his bedroom as they fall on top of one another.

"Let's go sit out here. Can't hear the animals out there." Alfie grins and opens a window, taking Lucy about the wrist and waist to have her sit on the roof with him.

"Is this safe?" He smiles at her concern.

"I've done it every time he's brought someone and I've been here. Not much for listenin' to others while they're goin' at it." he chuckles.

"Me either." she shakes her head, sitting with crossed legs as they look out at the smokey cityscape.

"I assumed as such." he snarks.

"What's that tone?" she asks with a shrug of her shoulders as she huffs out a laugh.

"You just seem..." he shakes his head. "Not like Marnie."

"I don't know if that's a polite or a rude way to say it." she laughs, her posture softening and so does his, seeing she wasn't offended. "I'm not... not like Marnie. But I'm also a lot more cautious than her, less compulsive it would seem. It's always been that way."

"You been friends since you were kids?"

"Yes. She's always been the troublemaker and I've been the good one." she sighs.

"But you're still out with a roughian like me? Sittin' on a roof in the east end at night?" he smirks.

"Well so are you. What does your mum think of it?"

"Ah. She's too busy with me brothers 'n sisters to worry 'bout me."

"I greatly empathize with that. Have you lived here long?" she changes the conversation to something less personal.

"Oh, I don't live here. This is Jack's flat. I stay a lot but I live with me mum."

"I wish girls could have their own flats. But then again I would be sleeping over at Marnie's and who knows if her place would have a roost to wait out their lovemaking." she laughs and he watches her eyes light up, finding himself staring.

"Lovemaking." he laughs. "Not heard anyone refer to it like that since I was a wee lad. Only ever call it fuckin' 'round here."

"Since he lost I assume that would be a more appropriate word for it." she nods. "Or at least that's what she tells me."

"At least she's honest."

Feeling bold, she decides to divulge more personal information. Perhaps it was how their hands almost touched, as they sat back and listened to the moans and howls of the city below. Or maybe it was how easy he was to talk to. He hadn't been handsy or assumed she was there to do the same as her friend and she found herself already growing fond of him. "She said when he wins he's tender, but when he loses he loses he's rough." she muses. "I would've thought it would be the other way around."

"Why's that?" he's glad she doesn't seem to be wound so entirely tight that he couldn't talk to her like a regular mate. She wasn't pretending to be something she wasn't. There was no need to be pissed for the courage to sleep with a boy who her father wouldn't approve of. Which he'd been on the receiving end of one too many times. At first, it was easy but as he'd gotten older it lost its charms.

"If I lost a fight, I would want to be tender. I'd want to lose myself and forget you know? Have someone console me and build me back up. But if I won I would feel high on it. I'd want to pounce and play and take my prize... so to speak." she shrugs and glances over at him. His eyes hadn't left her the entire night, although he had positioned his head to make it seem so.

"As lovely of a sentiment as that is. It is a distinctly feminine one, yeah?" he offers with narrowed eyes.

"How is that?" he can see the curiosity for his words in her eyes and he adores the sincere attention.

"Men, yeah? They want to show even with a loss that they aren't losers, they don't wanna wallow in it and ask for a cuddle, right? When they win they wanna show they're a winner, get treated as such, have a woman take care of them because they deserve it because they won."

Her eyes wander in thought. "That does make sense." she nods in agreement. "And what of you Alfie? What are you like after a win?"

The cheekiness of the question isn't lost on either of them. He smirks and gives her a charming grin that makes her blush at its underlying intention. "Well.." he begins, a smile showing teeth emerges, she sees a slightly wonky tooth in the front showing between his lips. His, now that she'd let herself really notice them, distractingly soft looking lips. She finds his face to be something she could look at for hours like a painting in a museum. His clean-shaven face, bare to be gazed upon is lighted magnificently by the moon. He was all cheekbones and sloped nose. A heavy brow with hooded lids that didn't hide the cleverness in his blue eyes. He wasn't just handsome, he was beautiful to her. He looked like some sort of poured mineral figurine that would set on a self. Something that didn't belong in the place where it was, she expected a rugged harshness from a boy who fought. But despite the discoloring and tiny cuts, he was stunning to her. "I don't like to mix the fights with sex meself. I find it a slippery slope I don't wanna try to tread on. You put the two together constantly, you'll start not performing at your best when it isn't readily available. And I don't want nuffin' to affect my fightin' except me. And if I rely on girls to fill some sort of need then that's gonna be a problem at some point."

"A boy like you having trouble finding a girl?" she chuckles. "You won and forgive me for being forward but you are very handsome, Alfie."

"I'll take whatever compliments you'll give me, love." he gives her a genuine smile. "And fanks." he nods slowly. "I find myself bein' a bit more particular these days," he informs her, pulling his knees to his chest. "What about you? What's a pretty bird like yourself doin' out alone on a night like 'is?"

"I find myself being a bit more particular these days as well." she gives him a knowing smile, her hands clasped together in her lap.

"And what is it that you particularly like these days?" he asks, seeing where he stood.

"Honesty." she answers quickly.

"Rare, that." he muses, wagging a finger. "But very, very important innit?"

"Very." she nods in agreement sternly. "Looks aren't the most important thing to me, I like someone who wants me for beyond what I look like so I search for much the same in a companion. Although a handsome face and kind eyes are something that would catch my attention. Someone who won't have his hand in my pants as soon as we're alone. That'd be a nice change of pace." she rolls her eyes.

"I see I've at least given you a break from 'at." he gives her a cheeky grin, pushing back is dark hair with his hand and ruffling it only to have it bounce back down into his face.

"Yes and I thank you." she gives him a friendly pat to the arm. An excuse to touch him really, but he was being rather personable with her.

"Nuffin' really. I too have found a lack of good conversation in my life. Boxers... they ain't much for discussion."

"As I could imagine." they share a laugh for a moment. "But you do don't you? We've even touched on the differences between male and female minds and not had an argument."

"Aye we have." he tilts his head and shoots her another charming smile. He sees her take a deeper breath and wonders what his chances are.

"Let's get on the move!" Marnie shouts from the window, smacking the roof with her hand that startles Lucy so much she jumps. Alfie reaches out to put his hand on her back and laughs.

"Let's not try to fly off the roof now pretty bird." he laughs as she blushes with embarrassment. He helps her into the window. Trying not to look up her skirts as she climbs back in, keeping a steady hold on her hand as she slid her way back into the flat.

------ Marnie and Jack are sharing a goodnight kiss inside the flat of an older friend of Marnie's. The boys had walked them to it together, Alfie even putting his arm around Lucy's shoulders, much to their mutual delight. Lucy looks up to Alfie, her face dimly light by the candles in the entryway. "I never said congratulations on your win tonight," she says earnestly. "You were rather good fun to watch." she admits, leaning back on her heels with nerves.

"Fanks, love." he gifts her with another smile that makes her gulp. "Perhaps havin' you there helped?" he gives her a wink and he gets a full smile with teeth.

"Doubtful." she titters.

"Only one way to find out. How about you come with next time Marnie comes to see Jack? Fight or not... I'd like to see you again Lucy."

She loves the way her name sounds when said in his accent. He didn't try to add any fake smoothness to anything about him. He presented himself as he was and she found herself very interested. "I'd like to see you again too, Alfie." she blushes.

He reaches out and takes her hand and kisses it and her breath catches in her throat. "Not to give it any unwanted attention, love, but you are absolutely darling when you blush like 'at." he steps closer.

"Oh, Alfie." she giggles, covering her cheek in embarrassment. "It seems you've brought it out in me tonight."

"You'll come back and see me, yeah? Give me another chance to make you all rosy cheeked?" she gives him a knowing smile, just as cheeky as what he was insinuating to her.

"I will." she nods, a coyer and less innocent smile on her face.

"Let's get 'ome, mate. I'm fuckin' knackered." Jack says seeing Marnie off with a slap to the bum and a hard slap to Alfie's back.

"Right." he nods and watches him leave. "I'll be finkin' of ya Lucy." he says, leaning in to give her a kiss to the cheek that makes her eyes shut. He feels the smile on her face, her round cheeks rising as he pressed his lips to her intoxicatingly soft skin. How had she spent all night where she had and still smelled like flowers? Must've been born and bred into her he thinks.

"And I you Alfie." she gives his hand a squeeze as they pull apart, a quick swish of his thumb over the back of her hand before they let go and she watches them walk down the street until they're out of sight. ------------------

Lucy took any chance she had to go to the East End with Marnie in the coming weeks. She drinks in pubs with her and the boys, she'd taken moonlit strolls hand in hand by the train tracks with Alfie. More long conversations on the rooftop, each time getting closer and closer. Always getting interrupted it seemed by Marnie's harsh voice calling her to leave. She could've stayed on that roof with him until the sun rose. She was surprised he hadn't made a move on her. She was of course relieved by this but she was also feeling rather impatient. She wasn't sure if another hug and kiss to the cheek would sustain her until she saw him again.

Unknown to her, Marnie had given Alfie a good talking to about Lucy. Telling her more than Lucy would've been comfortable with him knowing, but Marnie wanted to protect her friend. She spilled her secrets of never having a crush on a boy before and having never slept with one. She wasn't entirely inexperienced but that if he took advantage of her and her naivety that she would personally be making sure he was too injured to fight in the next bout. And he truly believed her.

So Alfie took his time with her. He gave her the deep conversations she longed for and had his hands on her as often as possible. She adored the non-threatening grasps to her back, waist, and arms if another man approached her, wordlessly marking his territory. She adored, even more, the hand holding. She'd always thought it was so sweet, so affectionate and not brash in any way. She thought only people who truly cared for each other held hands. And she was starting to truly care for Alfie. Anyone with eyes could see it as she'd watch him wherever he went. He was finding himself feeling much the same, wondering what a girl like her, being from where she was, saw in him. But he soon found through their conversations that became more and more personal, that her life had it's problems as well. Not the same as his of course, but life wasn't perfect where she was from, and he was thankful she found him so interesting despite knowing much about the arts, which she would muse about on their strolls. He'd make his way to her part of town, not looking for her per se, but trying to take in what made her, her. He felt out of place, receiving looks as he strolled with his hands shoved into his pockets, sauntering about galleries and asking questions to people who gave him half-formed, bitten answers. But the way her face lit up when he'd say the name of an artist she adored made it worth it.

They were both pie-eyed over the other with no end in sight. Alfie was simply waiting for a moment. He thought if she truly could be something special, that there would be a moment, an event that just grabbed him by his collar and told him to make his move with her. He hadn't expected it to be a fight night, but moments like those never really came when you expected.

He had won again. A streak he was on since being with Lucy. He didn't lose very often before, granted, he was an apt pupil in all things, including his fighting. After the fight she's on his arm, looking at him with adoration in her eyes, watching him be praised and receive his congratulations for it. So while they're all four on the way back to Jack's flat, their guards are down and their laughing and buzzed and having a rare carefree moment together as friends. So when a guy sneaks behind them and pulls Alfie out of Lucy's hands she screams. He's jerked onto the ground and kicked before scrambling up and knocking the other boy over, punches are thrown and without the aid of gloves, the sound makes Lucy feel squeamish. Marnie grabs Lucy back, Jack dives in and scares them off, but not before they get a few good hits in from both sides. He yanks Alfie up and pats his cheek.

"Ya alright mate?" he says, holding his head and looking him over.

Lucy pulls out of her friends hold and runs to him, taking his hand and she feels him squeeze it back.

"Fuckin' 'ell." he groans, shaking his head and almost falling over. "What the fuck was all 'at!" he shouts and stumbles.

"Sore losers 'ats what 'at was." Jack glares in the direction the boys ran off in. "It was the mates of that lad you beat tonight."

"Fuckin' wankers." he mumbles, Jack goes under his arm to help him walk.

"Let's get ya back now." he says with a firm pat to the back.

"Alfie, darling are you okay?"

"S'alright Lucy." he gives a smile to her and nods, squeezing her hand. "They didn't get you did they?"

"No, no." she says quietly.

"Hush up and let's get you laid down now. Ya hit ya head, ya know how it goes." Jack grumbles as they trudge towards his flat.

After settling him into Jack's bed, Lucy sits next to him, holding his hand as he complains that he's fine. "I get beat up for a livin', love, truly I'm fine." he groans, sitting up.

"They've gone to fetch you something cold from the shops for your face."

"They dinnit have to do that." he pouts.

"No but you're cheek is swelling and I'll have none of that." she says with a bossy tone that makes him smile. "What?" she says with a pushed back chin at the confusing look on his face.

"You're awfully precious when you're bossy." he grins and it does hurt a bit but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

"Oh hush, talk like that makes me certain you were walloped too hard." her concern breaks into a smile as she leans in to kiss his forehead.

"Got it." Marnie says, bringing in a chunk of ice wrapped in a tea towel to hand off to him. "Luce?" she asks, motioning with her head for her to join them.

"Keep that there." she says softly, and Alfie nods, accepting the kindness.

"He can have Jack's bed tonight. He doesn't want him out alone. Jack and I will go to Sylvia's and you two can stay here. Will that work alright?" she asks, a bit hesitant to your answer.

"Oh." she says with wide blinking eyes.

"Are you seriously nervous?" she laughs.

"No." she pouts. "I just, it's unexpected is all."

"You'll be fine. Come to me in the morning when you're a woman and we'll gossip on the walk home, eh?" she teases, giving her a hug before she leaves.

"He's hurt don't be silly." she dismisses the thought.

"Not too hurt for that I'd imagine." she smirks and kisses her friends cheek.

She gets a drink and takes a deep breath. She frowns, looking out the window at her friends walking down the street. Did they really need to have sex that badly? At least they hadn’t thrown him on the sofa and went at in the bed anyway. He did get hit by multiple boys without having a chance the defend himself. You were glad Jack wasn’t so blinded by Marnie's sexual prowess that he would let his friend be uncomfortable for it. You think perhaps Jack is an alright lad. A bit horny for your tastes but, to each their own. Alfie didn’t seem that way. He did plenty of flirty and cheeky things, both with words and winks that made her skin break out in goosebumps without even touching her. She wishes she’d had more time to prepare for such an opportunity as this that lay before her tonight. She’d terribly wanted to kiss him, she’d think about it every night before bed, what his full lips would feel like. Would his hands be rough or gentle with her when they finally touched her? Would sex hurt the way she was told it would? She hadn’t given sex much thought before Alfie. Not in any real, I want to do this capacity. It was talk for the girls to whisper about and giggle, but doing it was something else entirely. And finding herself considering it, wanting it even. She felt that new and strange feeling surge through her. That pure rebellion. The thrill of doing something that wouldn’t be approved of. Her breathing has picked up, her hand mindlessly stroking across her cleavage as she’s interrupted.

“Everyfing alright, love?” She hears Alfie's gruff voice speak from the doorway.

“Oh yes, just fine.” She says quickly, moving towards him. “They went to our friend's house and left us here for the night. Marnie said Jack didn’t want you out alone after those boys jumped you so he thought it best we just stay here.”

“Oh.” He says, his full lips pressed together in thought for the sudden news. “Are you alright with that?” He asks, his head turning quickly to hers in question.

“Yes. I told her it was fine.” She says with a wave of her hand.

“You uh... want the bed and I can take the couch if you’d like?” He offers.

“Don’t be silly Alfie. I’m not letting you sleep anywhere but that bed.” She says walking past him. “Come now, let yourself rest.” She motions to the bed, standing with her hands on her hips and examining the room. "I wonder if Marnie has left anything here I could sleep in." she mutters, chewing on a fingernail.

"Doubtful. She doesn't really stay the night does she?"

"Suppose not."

"Lucky he expected her over and changed his bedsheets." Alfie chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I suppose I can sleep in just my shift. Basically the same as a gown, isn't it?" she asks to no one in particular.

"If you're gonna..." he motions to her with his hand. "You mind if I shed some layers as well?"

"Oh yes, that's perfectly fine, darling." she says, moving to the bathroom to run some water and wipe away at her face, leaving her shoes by the dresser.

He was surprised by the nonchalant nature of her words and actions. Perhaps he'd thought her too innocent from her friend's warnings. She didn't seem like she was embarrassed at all. But that could be her logical side. They were stuck in this position and she was acting as reasonably as it called for. No need to make a fuss over some skin he supposes, although the thought of having her close to him was starting to make him stir. He pulls off his shirt, shoes already taken off by her when they'd arrived. He leaves his trousers on and waits for her to make the next move. He watches her hitch up her skirts, rolling one stocking down then the other and he's utterly captivated by it. A lump grows in his throat as he sees the untouched skin of her thighs in a glance, wondering if everything was as soft as he'd imagined it to be.

"Would you help me with my dress?" she asks, a more obvious glint of anxiety in her eyes.

"'Course, c'mere." he says, standing as she turns and waits for his fingers to help unbutton the back of her dress. "There you go, sweetie." he says in a quiet tone as if he might startle her.

She slips her arms out, stepping out of the dress to reveal her thin white shift. He gulps at the sight of her skin, far more than he'd ever seen before. Her arms and shoulders now bare, he admired the bend in the nape of her neck as it stretched with her as she folded her dress and laid it over a chair. He wasn't prepared for her to turn around and approach him. The soft lace fell around her knees, moving as she did. He could see the curve of her hips, a tiny ribbon woven into the fabric just under her chest that pulled it tight across and he lets out a long exhale, lips parting in his fascination. She was his lovely little bird with delicate collar bones peeking through the soft waves of her hair as she let it down. He'd never seen it fully down and his fingers itched to touch it.

She can see the distracted look in his eyes. He was forgetting his manners, watching her body as she moved closer to his. She wasn't finding herself to be offended in the least. She'd longed for a boy to look at her in such a way. His blue eyes now half-lidded and those plush lips of his, wetted and parted as she stood in front of him with barely anything between them she felt powerful. He looked at her like she was the only woman in the world and that was what all young girls wanted from their boys.

"Alfie?" she interrupts his staring with a soft voice that makes his lids flutter and his brain remember she was, in fact, standing in front of him and this wasn't a fantasy he got to gawk at. "Do you sleep in your trousers?" she asks with a smile that's almost a smirk.

"I actually prefer to sleep naked." he blurts out without thinking then nervously laughs and rubs the back of his neck. Who was he to get clumsy around a girl? He's beginning to realize that he's feeling more than something below the waist for her. His heart does a funny little patter in his chest to accompany the stirring deep in his stomach. What an angel she was too him.

She giggles and shrugs. "If that's what you'd like." she says in a humorous acceptance.

“Oh! No, no I’m not gonna.” he lets out a nervous laugh. “Will take my trousers off though.” He says averting his eyes and leaving to one side of the bed.

She looks like she floats to the other side, light coming through the window and hiding enough of the dingy room for her hormone filled to find it all terribly romantic. She gets in and lays on her back with her hands clasped over her stomach. She looked posh even when she slept he bet. He slides in next to her, mirroring how she lay. His usual sprawled and wild limbs manner wouldn’t suit sharing a bed with a girl.

She turns and sits up after a few moments of silence. “Alfie?” Her voice that couldn’t help but sound sweet called out for his attention.

“Yeah, love?” He asks, his eyes moving to meet hers.

“Are we really going to share a bed all night and not... do anything about it?”

“I didn’t want to assume.”

“We’ve known each other for over a month now and I have to say I’m more than surprised by your behavior.”

“Right now or we talkin' in general?” He asks with a sarcastic tone as moves to lay on his side as well.

“Both.”

“What’s surprisin' bout it?” He asks earnestly

“I thought a lad from the east side would’ve made a move on me quicker.” She states with a shrug, her head resting in her hand.

“Well, I did make it known I wanted to see you again that first night. That weren’t nothing”

“Yes, but I meant physically.” She states flatly. “Why haven’t you kissed me Alfie?” She asks right out and he’s impressed by the aggression she’s showing.

“I didn’t want to offend you.” He says softly in defense. “That and... well Marnie threatening to end me if I hurt you put me off it.” he admits.

“Oh hell.” She sighs and pouts. “Should’ve known it was bloody Marnie.”

“Why would I kiss a filthy mouth like 'at now?” He laughs and teases.

“Oh bugger off” she rolls her eyes, shoving his arm playfully. “So is Marnie the reason you haven’t kissed me then?”

“At this point yeah.” He nods.

“Well she isn’t here is she?”

“No one is love.” he says quietly.

“Then you have no reason not to do it.” She says with a smile, leaning closer to him.

“'Spose ya right about that.” he answers softly as he scoots closer, suddenly not sure what to do with his hands.

“You DO want to don’t you Alfie?” She asks and the uncertainty in her eyes and voice make his brow furrow with sadness for it.

“Since the first night I met ya.” he confesses.

He sees the relief fall over her face and she bats her lashes, gathering her gumption and scooting closer to him.

“And I you.” she responds, looking at his lips and so anxious to find out if they were as soft as they looked.

“Right,” He says almost under his breath, looking over her face which showed nothing but anticipation. He raises his hand to her cheek and it’s just as soft as he thought. He leaves no more room for either of their imaginations to have to assume what the others pouty lips felt like as he brought them together at last. He expected hesitation from her, perhaps some clumsy or awkwardness but he doesn’t find it. It starts as a single peck, a chaste lips to lips brushing as she kept her eyes shut while he gave a moment of pause for her to step back if she wished. His expectation that she would be reserved was challenged as she pushed back against him, stretching her neck to press into him properly. As her hand slid over his on her face, she pushed forward, deepening the kiss, eagerly accepting his tongue as it teased at her before they lapped together, exploring the others skills. She presses her body against his, his hand traveling to her waist to hold her close.

Quickly they find a natural position. He moves his upper body over hers as she lies on her back, arms wrapped around his head while his hand behaves and stays stroking her side. She’s in a haze of kisses. She doesn’t even notice when he pulls back to catch his breath. He gets to observe her for just a moment lying there with her eyes shut and her lips pouted. Taking in the soft roundness of her face and the way her delicate features seemed so distinctly feminine. Her eyes flutter open but remain half-lidded as she gazes up at him. They both share a breath for a moment.

“Is there something the matter?” she asks. ”Why did you stop?” Her voice is soft and breathy in her questioning.

“Am I supposed to kiss you all night?” He grins.

“I’m not opposed to the idea.” she giggles.

He looks down at her with clear adoration and she finds herself blushing as he strokes back her hair. “I don’t want you to think we have to do anything because we’re in the same bed.” He states.

“I don’t think that.” She whispers with a subtle shake of her head. “Marnie must’ve lead you to believe I was some pristine and untouched virgin who cowered at the thought of a boy touching her.” She frowns. “Didn’t she?” Her lips purse after she sighs.

“She did say you were a virgin. Yeah.” He mutters.

“I am but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to touch me, Alfie.” she says defensively.

He nods, a single slow blink before resituating himself, his hand now resting on her ribs. “As long as you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to scare you away.” He admits.

“I’m certain it would only assure that I would not.” She smirks and leans up to kiss him playfully. “I really like you, I was prepared to experience things with you for the first time before tonight. I thought a boxer from the east end would have fast hands outside the ring as well as in, to be honest.”

“You want ‘em to be?” He smirks now, eyes wandering past her face and down to her chest.

“Yes.” She answers in a soft voice, putting her hand over his on her body before rubbing it back up his arm and pulling his face toward hers.

They let themselves feel things that have built up over the past weeks. He gives over with a groan as he reaches up to cup her breast through the thin fabric, moving his body up against hers. Subconsciously her body begs for it, her legs opening as he kissed her with a mixture of lips and tongue that wasn’t forced and unpleasant like she’d felt before. Everything about him was so much softer than she’d thought it would be. His knuckles might’ve been marked but his skin was pliant and warm as she touched him.

As he moves his mouth to her neck, her eyes roll back and she lets out a moan she hadn’t known she was holding in. Sighing out his name into the dark he works his lips against her skin, being sure to not mark her, but wanting to make her feel as best he could.

She appreciated his apprehension and understood it as Marnie could be rather threatening. Most girls her age were getting married and had been getting their experience in before they had to do so. Lucy was still holding out hope she’d marry for love and someone who knew how to touch her. She hoped that she wouldn’t have to settle and sow her wild oats before marriage. She wanted to be with someone who would be wild with her while married.

As Alfie kissed his way down her chest, she let her fingers card through his short hair before letting her hand fall back, watching as his pink and kiss-swollen lips follow the thin fabric of her shift as he pulled it down her chest to expose her breasts. He never hesitated and gave her no reason to feel self-conscious as the thought of her being anything but perfect was far from his mind.

He felt her thighs rub together instinctively, bent knees bumping into him as she started to gasp and writhe as he sucked away at her nipple. She’d recalled brushing against them and it feeling pleasurable before, but she’d never considered his plush lips abilities for much beyond kissing her, but she was flushed and her toes curled with an appreciation for what he brought out in her.

She’d never felt her heart race and stomach flutter in such a way before. Watching his lashes fan across the tops of his cheeks, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, a deeper masculine sound coming from him as his hands held her tight. Moving down to her hip, she shuddered at the thought of him touching the bare skin of her thighs.

She finds him so strikingly beautiful. Such a delicate face, such a shame he was a boxer she thought. He was so lovely she hoped that softness would stay forever. She wants to see him panting like she was, to cause this sort of response in him as well. She wanted to touch him like he was her. She feels him hard against her hip, only his thin pants in a material similar to her shift between them. How thrilling it was to know he couldn’t deny his attraction to her. The proof lies hot against her skin as she swallows and gathers her mind to reach her hand between them and touch him.

“Lucy.” He whispers, pulling himself away from her skin, a fact neither was happy about. “You don’t have to do that, love.” He shakes his head and smiles gently, his voice just the same.

“I want to.” She says softly, large eyes batting up at him as her hand slides over him, the back of her hand sending a twitch of his muscles through his stomach at the contact. “You’re... already hard.” She muses, eyes looking down as he leans back to take in the sight of her slender and delicate hands with their curious fingers wrap around him. She twists her body slightly, arms pressing her breasts together and her other hand reaching to grasp him fully. She sees his eyes shut and lips part as she strokes him. “I want to see you.” She whispers.

He doesn’t need any more discussion, he would give her whatever she asked of him. He moves and swiftly takes off his pants, discarded in the floor. Her eyes are full of curiosity and wonder for his form as it’s revealed to her. So this was what all the fuss was about. She wasn’t sure if he was big or not, as she had to real reference, only gossip, and Marnie's crude depictions. She didn’t know how he compared, but thinking about something that size going into her somehow seemed like the stories of first times being painful to seem true. She knew he was cut and that was the case, she studied him almost dutifully, fingertips light and gentle on his length and she explored. He was nestled in an almost gingery nest of hair, her fingers being bold enough to reach down and touch below him, seeing what it was all the boys would shout about when they were kicked between the legs. It wasn’t exactly what she expected but then again, she didn’t know what to expect. But the way he fought to keep his eyes open, his tongue peeking out between his thick lips as she loosely stroked at him made her feel powerful and more confident about the whole endeavor.

"Can I?" he begins, licking his lips and getting a hold on himself. "Can I touch you first, love?" he asks her softly, going back to nuzzling into her neck, breathing in her hair as his hand trailed below her hem and he dragged it up her legs. "I don't want you to be trying to focus on me. Not when it's the first time." he shakes his head back and forth, nose moving back to her face before kissing her again.

She nods in response, her hand slowly pulling away, he was flattered at her hesitancy to let him go. She rests her hand on her stomach, pulling up her skirt as he watched her bare herself to him. The covers lay bunched up at their feet, no need for their warmth while their bodies were together, their heavy breathing making the air feel thick around them. "Can I still touch you? If I want to?" she asks and the uncertainty in her voice makes him smile. The back of her hand brushes against him, the one pinned between their bodies.

"Of course. I only want you to be able to focus and tell me what feels good." he explains his fingers now trailing her inner thighs. "I want to make you feel good, Lucy. I don't want you to regret this come morning." he confesses.

"It's you Alfie," she whispers, a single kiss to his jaw as he watching his fingers tease across her soft skin. "I won't regret it."

He gently cups her soft thatch of hair, a thrill runs through her at the contact. She didn't feel as nervous as she expected, as she felt thoroughly excited and alive. "Have you ever..." he nods down to where his hand lies. "Touched yourself?" he manages to make it sound as nonthreatening as possible.

"I share a room with my siblings, I've never had the chance to." she admits.

He nods, realizing he really is taking a degree of innocence from her. He barely recalled his first time. There'd been alcohol involved and an older girl. A friend of his brothers. She'd told him he was handsome, asked him if he'd ever been with a girl. He'd said no for some reason, in hindsight he should've said yes, kept his wits about him and sounded like a proper bloke about it. But he hadn't and she'd taken his virginity, wasn't like he was using it anyway. But it was different for girls, he thought. None of the girls he'd been with had been virgins. At least none admitted it if they were. He tried to not feel guilty, seeing the want in her eyes for him. "If I do something you don't like, you tell me." he instructs her.

She nods quickly. "Of course." she says with fluttering lashes, so ready to please.

She notices a tightness in his jaw and the concentration of a furrowed brow as his fingers begin to trace up and down her slit. They sink between her lips, welcomed by a surplus of hot and wet arousal that he was thankful to find. She wasn't too nervous, this was proof she wanted him. He lets his reservations fade away as he connects their mouths again in a kiss to distract her as he explores her. He doesn't insert his fingers, only circling, teasing and finding her little-swollen bud that jumped at his touch. The tiny moan that accompanied her thighs shuddering when he finds it makes him return the sound into her mouth.

"Good?" he asks, lips pressed against hers.

"Uh-huh." she nods rapidly against him. He deepens the kiss, his fingers finding what she likes. He trails lightly over the arch of her clit, presses hard on either side of it, circles and flicks and finds a light but fast maneuver that she responds the most to.

The pleasure builds and she slowly loses her inhibitions with him. Her moans grow louder, her tongue flicks out her mouth and stretches for his lips when he pulls them away to breathe. At first, it felt good as he felt her out and slowly it built. Her hand in the longer hair at the top of his head, clutching it, only working on instinct as he brushed at this magic spot that she was slowly understanding what all the fuss was about. She feels him hard against her leg, his mouth now attached to her nipple, sucking away as his hips move and rub himself against her. She reaches down, wrapping her fingers around him and he lets out a long groan into her breast.

"Fuck." he exhales, pressing his forehead against her collarbone.

The breathy way he groans out the word makes a blush come to her face that she can feel. She was making him act this way, she felt invigorated and different. She felt sexy as he looked down at her, something she'd never felt before. They both pant away, gazing at each other, hips now twitching and rutting, him against her thigh as he fucked into her hand, like her against his palm as he tried to speed up and bring her over the edge.

"Alfie." she mewls, head pushing back into the pillow. "I want... I want... more." she whines, her hips circling, searching for something even though they didn't know that.

"Be still love." he whispers against her lips before teasing around her entrance again. "I don't want to hurt you." he says in a sweet way that she responds to, holding his head down to kiss him with gasping pauses and deep probing tongues. She stills her hips and with one finger he gives her what she wants. A slow push, an in and out she could handle, her mouth open and a deeper moan coming up from her stomach as her eyes flutter shut.

"Oh my god." she whimpers.

"That's it, pet." he whispers into her ears and her back arches. He pushes against her with his knuckles, giving her pressure against her body that made her pull his hair.

She mumbles wordlessly into the dark room, his head buried in her neck, listening and feeling her around him.

"Can you take another?"

"Please." she openly begs. He was intoxicated by her eagerness for it. He was keeping his brow low and jaw tight as she continued to keep a firm hold around his cock, grasping at him and stroking enthusiastically in phases as she became overwhelmed and gained her senses again. He didn't want her to stop, but she would make him come before her if he wasn't careful. He wanted to melt into her, hear her moan out his name in her voice, sounding better than he'd imagined in his head. So breathy and needful.

He gives her what she asks, two fingers, slower still. Her lids bat, her mouth open as gasps and he rises to meet her face.

She mewls and nods, her face showing a hint of discomfort, but he knew there was no escaping it completely. "Yes. Yes." she pants, lip snarled and head back as she felt something inside her that stretched her for the first time. It wasn't painful, but it felt foreign at first. The way he moved slow and steady, keeping her distracted and wet as he kissed and sucked away at every bit of her his mouth could reach. He slowly opened her up, he presses his palm against her, a trick he'd told about by his older brother. And it certainly did make her moan as promised. "Oh my god Alfie, yes." she pleads, her hips back to moving against him, her thighs brushing against his length. She begins to buck again, breathing growing faster, grip around him alert again, her slender fingers reaching and stroking away at him to the pace he set inside her. "Kiss me." she demands, her free hand pulling him back down to her, a heated and messy lock follows, he finds himself getting lost in her again. Their hips grinding in tandem, listening to her call out his name, feeling her so tight around his fingers, her muscle tensing and hips begging him for more as he tried to rub every part of her he should. He thinks about what it would be like to feel her around him, so hot and tight, feeling her chest rise and fall against his flush, his limbs a tangled mess with hers, making her his.

"Fuck love, you're gonna make me come too soon."

"I think... I think I'm close." she whines and nods, hand on his cheek as she sees how blown out his eyes are, the most lovely dark blue she'd ever seen. "Come with me." she suggests.

His tilts his head. "But what about-?" he begins.

"Oh fuck Alfie please, I want to feel you do it too. Please. I think... I'm close, yeah. It feels so good, Alfie, my God." she rushes out, groaning and arching against him.

"I want to feel you too." he groans into her skin. "You feel so fuckin' right, love. I want you to come for me, Lucy. Let me do that." he hears the faults in his voice, knowing her soft hands, the rush of the newness and her eagerness all in combination with her milky, smooth thighs rubbing fast as she bucked against him were ending him. "Fuck you feel so good." he mumbles, a noise of anger leaving him, frustration from being so close, wanting her there too.

"Yeah, yeah." she nods, he sees her stomach convulse, her breathing faster and deeper as she can no longer kiss him. "Alfie."

"Yes love, let go." he tells her between kisses to her ear. "Let it happen. This is... fuck..." he feels his hips begin to stutter, his balls starting to tingle.

"Alfie I think I'm gonna... gonna..." she whimpers, her eyes starting to cross and her thighs shaking and tightening.

"Ya fuckin' perfect love, yeah." he says mindlessly as she begins to shake, a shocked look in her eyes as her stomach convulses hard and brings her head up to watch the work his hand was doing, now half hidden between her thighs as her hips moved involuntarily.

"Ugh!" she lets out a loud and deep moan, followed by tiny gasps, high pitched moans that sounded so innocent as they left her, he felt her legs relax, she grabbed him by his hair again and pulled him in for a rough kiss. It was sloppy and wet and desperate, a pure expression of the overflow from what he'd done to her, his hips continue to move, his hand staying cupped over her, keeping her still as her hand grasped at him.

"Yes, love, yes." he pants, pushing his forehead against hers. She got to witness the most vulnerable moment with another person she'd ever experienced. His face contorted, a heavy masculine brow drawing shut, hiding those blue eyes from her. His row of slightly askew teeth showed as his lips twitched and she felt a warmth spurt out over her bare thigh. His body spasmed just like hers had, grunts as his hips bucked just the same. He wasn't silent, but he wasn't as loud as she had been. They didn't sound like Marnie and Jack together and she felt like that was oddly reassuring in a way.

His eyes open wide as if he had snapped out of a daze. His shoulders slump, his face pressing against her chest as they both panted and caught their breath. They lay there like that until everything stilled. The aftershocks had passed, and their hands were lazy as they stroked at each other's naked skin.

"You alright, love?" he asks, raising his head to look at her. If he'd looked first then asked, he would've seen it was a needless question. She was lying like an angel. A moonbeam across her as flushed cheeks faded slowly, her eyes half-lidded and relaxed, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"I'm wonderful." she giggles.

"You are." he nods and kisses her gently.

"You are." she says back with another soft kiss. "That was amazing."

"If ya give me a little bit I can be ready to go again. Give ya the full show, so to speak." he admits sheepishly.

She answers with a giggle and a shake of her head. "No, I think I'm too tired now. Does it always make you so sleepy afterward?" she asks, her nose wrinkling with interest.

"Sometimes." he nods and kisses her cheek. "Let me get us cleaned up, yeah? And then we can get some sleep, hmmm?" he asks, stroking her hair out of her face.

"Lovely, that." she sighs out, a blissful look on her face he wanted to capture and never forget.

--------------------------------- Lucy feels like a new woman the next day. Having him see her off where Marnie and Jack had stayed. Kissing her deep and holding her close, making her blush and giggle before leaving her.

"So... seems I was right." Marnie snarks as they walk down the street back home.

"Not entirely." Lucy shakes her head, a smirk on her face.

"That smile says differently." she laughs and pokes at her friend's side.

"We didn't... ya know." she rolls her eyes and blushes. "But we did... other things." she bursts into giggles.

"Good for me there's a long walk home and I want to hear EVERYTHING!" Marnie says, taking her arm and wrapping it around Lucy's as they titter and giggle the whole way home.

--------- Lucy is in town, picking out food for dinner for her mother in the market while she took one of her younger siblings to the doctor. She' perusing a basket of apples, when hands go over her eyes, a deep voice she recognizes fills her ears and heart simultaneously.

"Guess who, love?" he says with a huge grin.

"Alfie?!" she says with a startle, turning fast as she smacks his chest. "You frightened me!" she scolds before giggling at the handsome young man in front of her.

"My apologies love." he nods his head and gives her a pout.

"Cheeky lad." she laughs. "What are you doing here?" she asks, getting a kiss on the cheek from him as they walk past the market where fewer people were.

"Had to come to visit some lads up at this gym on this side of town."

"Oh? What for?"

"Some interest in havin' me fight." he grins proudly.

"Oh that's wonderful!" she says, wrapping an arm around him to hug him, her other arm occupied by a large basket.

"It is. " he nods. "I happened to see ya before headin' back and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see my lovely little bird now could I?" he gives her a charismatic smile, his hands pushed into his pockets as she sighs at the very sight of him.

"I'm glad you didn't." she says with a dreamy look in her eyes. "Mum's with Laurel at the doctors. I'm fetching things for tea. It's almost time for her be getting out believe."

"Everyfing alright?" he asks, a reassuring squeeze her arm.

"Oh yes, just a check-up." she dismisses the concern. "But you should probably go before she shows up." she grins.

"Don't wanna deal with all 'at just yet?" he smirks, leaning in towards her.

"No, not yet. I'd like to have this relationship stay between you and me alone for a while. It's too nice to dampen just yet." she sighs happily.

"That it is." he nods and gives her a chaste kiss. "Ya comin' 'round with Marnie this weeks end?"

"I am." she nods.

"I'm stayin' at Jack's while we's trainin' for the fight. Don't want me mum to worry with the bumps and bruises 'n that." he explains.

"What a good boy you are." she laughs and teases.

"Nah." he gives her a cheeky grin and a wrinkle of his nose. "I'll be seein' ya, Lucy."

"Yes you will." she gives him an equally amorous expression before spinning and heading back to the market.

---------- Lucy stands next to her mother as she washes dishes and Lucy dries them. She's tired and content, a mindless smile on her face that her mother now knows the source of.

"I saw you with that boy today." she says, a brow arched, the clink of plates knocking against one another in the sink fill the awkward silence. Lucy doesn't say anything, her eyes avoid her mothers glance as she sighs. "Why did you not tell me about him?"

"I..." you shrug. "I liked having him to myself I suppose."

"Did you go to school with him? Or is he not from here? I didn't recognize him."

"No I didn't. He's not from here."

"Am I going to have to ask every single question of you or are you going to give me the information you know I want know," she states flatly, side-eyeing her daughter. "How about a name?"

"His name is Alfie. He's from the East End." she answers with a tight jaw.

"I see." her mother responds, clearly displeased. "His last name?" she says with more of a demand than a question. Lucy knew this wasn't going to end well. She had hoped she could keep him a secret. She knew her mother wouldn't approve. But she hadn't cared.

"Solomons." she answers, lowering her face as she dries another dish.

"You're seeing a Jewish boy?" she says with a face contorted in surprise and disapproval.

"Yes." she states clearly, feeling defensive of him.

"Why on earth would you be wasting your time with some Jew from the East end?" she says arrogantly.

"Because he's a nice boy."

"Nice?" she huffs out a laugh.

"Yes. He's smart and funny and kind to me."

"For now." she snarks.

"What's what supposed to mean?" she sass's back.

"It means you aren't a Jew, sweetheart. Jews don't marry non-Jews."

"That's not true." she retorts.

"It is. And it's clear you unfortunately like him... so I think you should end this little tumble you're having with this back street lad and get your bearings straight." she says sharply.

"I do like him and I have no intention on ending it." her tone is so defiant her mother is both furious and impressed.

"Yes you will." she commands, her voice low and threatening. "How did you think it would end Lucy? Hmmm? Did you think he'd marry you? You're not daft, girl."

"I don't know. Maybe." she shrugs. "I liked him and that's as far as I thought it through."

"You have to think ahead, Lucy. You can't go around thinking with your heart. And he's taken advantage of that mindset I'm sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she says turning to look at her mother with an angry red face.

"It means, he's using you, darling. Jewish boys sow their wild oats with non-Jewish girls because they don't truly respect them. They get their fun out of the way before they settle down with one of their own. It happened when I was young, I know."

"That's not what he's doing. He's been very respectful!" she retorts.

"They even have a word for it you know. A word for the starter girls, the goy little girls that believe all their educated words and find them interesting. They call them Shiksa. It's an insult and that's what you are, Lucy. I don't want to hurt you darling but you have to understand-"

"I don't have to understand anything!" she stomps her foot. "YOU need to understand that he isn't like that. And I'm not leaving him!"

"I'm not going to have you mess up and get knocked up by some roughian east ender and have you be the talk of the town, Lucy. Your father and I brought you up better than that. You're going to marry a nice lad you went to school with whose parents have given him a job at their company and you're going to have little girls who grow up to not understand and rebel against their mothers and act like ungrateful brats just like you." her voice is calm and that makes it hurt even more.

"No." Lucy growls.

"Yes. You will end it with this lad. If not I will."

"And how would you do that?" she crosses her arms and raises her voice.

"I'm guessing you'll be finding out won't you?" she replies with a hard face.

"I'm not leaving him. I love him." she says, her hand's in fists and shaking.

"Oh bloody hell here we go." her mother sighs and rolls her eyes. "You don't know what love is you silly child!"

"Yes I do! And I'm not a child! I'm almost twenty!"

"Perhaps you should start acting like it if you want to be treated as such." she snaps back.

"I will! By making the decision to stay with who I love and not some fucking dimwitted lad who's never had to have an original thought in his life!" she throws the dishtowel on the floor and stomps out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Her mother sighs, a high eyebrow in annoyance. Seeing she would have to put her foot down and make some decisions for her daughter like they had been made for her.

"Where do you think you're going?" she shouts and she sees Lucy dart past the door.

"What do you care?!" she shouts and slams the front door, stomping her way down the street with her bag and coat drawn.

Moments later Lucy hears fast clicking footsteps behind her down the street. "What happened?!" she hears Marnie shout as she catches up with her friend.

Lucy tells her what her mother said and Marnie's face frowns. She knew her own mother wouldn't approve of Jack, but she loved him anyway. She was on borrowed time with him as well. She felt deeply for Lucy, who hadn't even lived in the way she had yet.

"I'm sorry." she says, locking her arm in Lucy's.

"Yeah." she mutters, her face still hard, tears wet down her face. "Why are you still here?" she asks, turning her face to look at Marnie's apologetic one.

"I'm not letting you walk to the fuckin' east end alone!" she says obviously. "We're in this together okay? I'm not looking forward to losing Jack either." she says reaching down to hold Lucy's hand.

"At least maybe he'll knock you up and you can marry that way." Lucy shrugs.

"Yeah like she'd let me keep it." she rolls her eyes.

"Maybe she would. Worth a shot." Lucy shrugs.

"Maybe." she pauses. "And what about you and Alfie?" she asks. "Would she let you keep it if he knocked you up?"

Lucy's face softens, lashes fluttering in thought. "I don't know." she whispers.

"Worth a shot?" Marnie asks, suggesting the same thing to her.

Lucy gulps noisily and sighs. "Yeah, maybe." she nods. ----------------

For the first time in their relationship, Lucy leads the way. Marnie stands back and lets her act out how she needs to. She recalls all the time's Lucy was there to pick up her broken pieces over the years, letting her scream and fight and make rash decisions. So she returned the favor for her best friend.

Lucy's small fist knocks on the door to Jack's apartment. "Jack? Alfie?" she calls loudly and desperately.

Marnie holds her breath, hoping that they were home.

"Bloody hell ya want to let the whole building know ya here?" Jack says with a furrowed brow as he swings the door open.

Lucy ignores him. "Is Alfie here?"

"Yeah, love, I'm-" Alfie answers from inside the apartment. She shoves past Jack, knocking him off balance as he looks to Marnie who is wearing an apologetic and solemn face and he decides to keep his mouth shut. "Fuckin' 'ell what's wrong?" his eyes are wide as she rushes towards him and wraps her arms around him, squeezing him tight. "What's happened? Are you alright?" he asks, his hands moving across her body, up to her face to pull it away from his chest to check her for injuries. "What is it Lucy?" he says quietly, seeing the tears in her eyes.

"My mum." she says before she starts crying.

"What's? Did she die? What?" the words rush out, his face showing clear confusion.

"I wish she fucking would!" she shouts into his chest and starts sobbing.

His eyes go wide, such a heartfelt declaration from Lucy surely meant something. She wasn't one to say words she didn't mean.

"Let's leave them, Jack." Marnie whispers. "Her mum found out about him and said some nasty things, wants her to leave him." she explains discreetly and Jack nods, with a heavy sigh he grabs his shoes and coat, giving Alfie a nod who returns it as he begins to tut at Lucy, trying to hold her face in his hands.

"Now breathe for me, darling." he commands, taking a big deep breath himself. "Look at me. I'm here. You're here with me. You're safe. Let's calm down now, yeah?" he nods, wiping away her tears.

"She saw us by the market. She wants me to leave you." she begins to sob again and he feels his chest ache, letting her lean back into it as he wraps his arms around her. His hand on the back of her head, as he rests his mouth against her hair. "She said I was a shiksa and you were using me. But you aren't are you? Please tell me she's wrong. I didn't believe her but-"

"No!" he shouts and it catches her off guard. "How dare she call you such a thing. Fuckin' woman claiming to know how I feel-" he begins and stops himself as he feels the red hot anger build and flush his face. "I really care for you, Lucy. Don't let her words lead you to think otherwise."

"I don't want to leave you Alfie." she sniffles.

"I don't want you to leave me either." he responds flatly, but honestly.

"Alfie?" she asks, her emotional voice breaking.

"Yes, love?" he sighs out, holding her lovely and pinked face, watching her little petal lips tremble.

"I... I love you." she chokes out. "I've never felt this way before. How can she-?" she begins to sob again at the thought.

"Shhh, Shhhh." he says, fingers stroking her hair. "Breathe love," he whispers. "I love you too ya know? I don't want this to end, same as you. I should've not kissed you in public like that. I'm sorry, it weren't right."

"No!" she says pulling away. "You should be able to kiss me anywhere and however we want!" she states defiantly. "Why can't two people like us show affection without others having something bad to say! Who cares if you're Jewish? Who cares if we're from different places? What does that have to do with anything?" she says, pulling away, caught up in her own anger and she wipes her face harshly.

"It dunnit." he says softly with a loud sigh, moving to get a glass of water. "But the world likes us to not mix with those outside our own."

"It's not fair!" she shouts, bottom lip shaking still.

"I know little bird, I know." he says with a disheartened smile, handing her the glass and rubbing her back. "As a poor Jew believe me... I know." he says with more bite to his tone that makes her come out of her upset for herself.

"And as a woman, things are forced and expected of me that I don't want as well." her anger faulters, a sense of hurt replacing it now. She pushes back the tears and moves back towards him, his face in her hands. "I love you Alfie. I don't know what will happen to us and that frightens me. I don't want to lose you." she says with conviction and he holds his hands over hers.

"I know, love." he nods. "I 'on't know what'll become of us either. But know I do love you. And your mum or anyone else keepin' us apart innit gonna change that. You're my little posh doll what come 'round to roll in the mud with the likes a me." he gives her a smile, his eyes sad but full of adoration. "How could I forget such a treasured thing like you? Not like anyfing I've ever experienced before are ya?" he leans in to kiss her gently.

"I love you Alfie. I don't want to be anyone else's." she shakes her head and wraps her arms around his neck. "I love you." she confesses again, pushing her lips to his.

"I love you, Lucy. I don't want ya to be anyone else's either." he holds her face and kisses her with intent. It grows more urgent, more desperate with each passing of their lips. Their bodies want to speak further on how they feel about the other where their words fall short in their inexperience.

"Alfie." she pants out as his lips press to her cheek. "Make love to me." she requests. Her eyes large and fluttering as they beg him. "I want to be yours forever. This is how I can be. Make love to me and no matter what happens I'll always be yours." she rushes out, crashing her lips into his.

He usually had a retort, a question to her motivations that he wanted to ease his own mind about. But he knew she meant it. He knew she was right. And he did want to make her his. He hadn't thought of marrying her, but they had also been loving in denial for some time together. They didn't want to think about who they were when they were apart, they only wanted to be Alfie and Lucy, with no pasts or families, no obligations or expectations of them. Just two humans in the rush of young love that you don't forget no matter how much time passes. The one you look back on and wonder what happened to them, all the what if's you have with the wisdom of age and hindsight. They wanted to be that for each other and he wanted to make her his in whatever way he could. So he responded to her pleading voice with enthusiasm as he pulled her into the bedroom.

Her head was rushed, feeling lightheaded and too many emotions at once as their faces pressed together, both afraid of what would come tomorrow, but wanting to forget about it all tonight. Although they'd had wandering hands ever since their night alone, she thought their first time would be different. Certainly not under the circumstances it was happening, and with a hope for a future instead of what they were facing. But as she's learning, life isn't like what you envision it to be and you should just work with what you have in front of you at the moment and hope for the best. So that's what she did. She was learning more than one lesson the hard way tonight. Becoming a woman was always just a phrase before and she thought sex might do that for her, but it was apparent now that that was not what being a woman meant.

Their hands move fast, buttons fumbled over as they knock into one another as they take off their clothes. A quick yank down on the covers on the bed, she throws herself onto him, feverish kisses with no grace are shared. There were no flowers, no romantic build up, and proposal of marriage to be had. Just a raw and defining moment between two people who didn't want to let go. The desperation was mutual, he'd found someone who saw him as something more, who didn't label him or judge him. She'd found someone with a sound mind, kind heart and strong hands. Everything she ever wanted. So they held onto each other like they were going to be ripped from each other's arms, because they were.

Her sounds break his heart, in the frenzy of skin to skin he tries to commit them to memory despite how they were more whines and whimpers than moans. He moves his lips from her mouth as she gasps for breath, running a hand through her hair which was growing damp with sweat. She shuts her eyes, pretending they were somewhere else together, her hands through his short cropped hair as his kisses move down her body, his hands wrapping around her thighs before pressing sucking kisses to her skin. He wishes he had time to make her beg, to kiss every fold of her, but he makes due with the rushed feeling her trembling hands feed into him. Spreading her lips, taking a moment to notice how she looked up close, pink petals he took into his mouth and found her center, kissing her as she finally began to relax as he worked away at the now swollen bud. He hears her moan, and it's a sweet sound he'll miss. Her light accent, an air of innocence to it somehow still, like she was a little doll kept on a shelf and never touched, in some immaculate townhouse, never having known any pain. He'd wanted to keep her like that as long as he could. He loved her softness, it was something that drew him to her.

Everything that wasn't like him, he loved about her. She softened his edges and made him forget who he was. His life was hard and he had taken that refuge in her for granted. And now he'd be back in the harsh reality with no harbor to come home to heal.

He pushes the thoughts away as he presses his fingers into her. A deep sound from her belly he felt, her tensing muscles, now not afraid or timid to his touch. He goes slowly, steadily, how he planned to use himself in her. He moves from two to three fingers, hearing her breathing gasp and change. A low whine, her back arching and bracing herself.

"Relax, love." he says in a deep, soothing voice. "It'll be easier on ya if ya can." he nods, going back to sucking on her clit, more gentle pressure from his fingers, wondering how he would fare inside her.

"Alfie. Just give me your cock," she whines. His eyes shoot up to her at the use of the word. Every time something dirty came out of her mouth his ears perked up like the words sounded so foreign coming from her sweet mouth. "Please. I want you. If it hurts, it hurts, I don't care anymore." she begs, her hands moving down to take the sides of his face and pull it towards her.

He gives in to her wishes, wiping his mouth before she pulls him into a deliberate, deeper kiss. She'd slowed down a bit, her heart racing but her lips slower. They had hours to be together. She wanted him as much as she could before she left. She wanted to be his in the only way she knew how to be now. He crawls up her body, aligning their hips, with one arm rested by her head to hold himself up. Her hands wandering down his torso, feeling every hill and valley of his strong body as it tensed above her. Her delicate hands tug at him, feeling him respond to her, a breathy exhale across her lips as his eyes go dark. He takes her hands from him, putting them around to his back as he pushes against her, her thrust back knees allowing him to slide against her wetness, give him a chance to figure out his angles before he committed to one. He finally picks a position, breaking their kiss and reaching to pump himself, spreading the slick across his before aiming.

"You tell me what you need, right Lucy?" he says, grazing his nose against hers. "Slow, fast, stop, anyfing just..." she sees his hesitancy to hurt her. Not wanting to leave her with the memory of pain from their time together. Her mind couldn't have been farther away from the thought.

"Just do it Alfie." she smiles, one hand pushing back his hair as it fell onto his forehead. "I promise I'll tell you." her gentle words ease him forward, the final go-ahead he needed from her.

He begins to push and he's grateful he can make progress immediately, notching inside her, eyes watching him enter her before returning to her face. When his eyes shift back up, he finds a lusty angel laying beneath him. Her hands still against his back as he puts his chest to hers. He takes her kiss-swollen lips being parted and stammering as a compliment, reaching down to connect their gaze by holding her cheek for a moment. The room falls quiet, tiny gasps and mewls as her lips push together, her body responding, tensing around him, causing him to fight to keep his eyes open as he slowly sinks into her, watching every movement of her face. A big exhale from both as their bodies rest against each other, her eyelashes fluttering before lifting back up to his, taking her hands to hold his face and kiss him.

"Move, love." she whispers against his lips, a small nip before he gives in to an intense kiss, trying to connect themselves fully. A slow drag, only a minor wince from her. On the second push in, a deeper exhale from her, a shifting of her shoulders as the pace he set started to feel better and better the more he did it. Soft yes's into his ears as he kisses her neck, finding a pace that suited them both so neither were overwhelmed. "It's..." she begins, a loud gulp that makes him rise to take in her face, expecting a rebuttal but he finds her so soft and strung out his shoulders hunch at the sight of her. "You feel so good." she sighs with a tiny smile, eyes looking unfocused and her moans growing.

"You feel even better." he rasps into her mouth, a moan as they connect into another kiss. He holds her thigh, shifting his weight up, a slightly different angle that she responds to loudly.

"Oh my." she pants, cheeks flushed and rosy, a thin sheen of sweat glistening over them both as they began to move together.

Her small noises, the way her hands would grasp at his back like she needed more, he knew he wouldn't give her what he wanted before he found his end first. She was too tight, his heart overwhelming him in the moment with her. So he reaches between them, nimble fingers find her clit easily, giving her a boost and she gasps loudly, eyes finally rolling back and closing, head knocking back, allowing him to kiss her neck and chest, giving him the chance to go faster, harder.

"Yes, that's it." she moans, nodding and biting her lip, her back arching, pressing her against him. "Oh my god Alfie." she whines, her legs opening wider, taking more of him. "Yes." she nods again, her head shooting down towards him and whimpers for him. Their lips meet fiercely, her fingers digging into his back to hold him to her, clutching as she felt herself drawing to that still new conclusion that she hadn't stopped thinking about since he first gave it to her.

"Are you close, love?" he grunts out, praying she would give him a yes, as he wasn't sure how much he could take, the waves of pleasure causing her to throb around him and in his not yet fully formed sexual prowess, he couldn't hold off much longer.

"Yes. Yes Alfie." she nods and bites his lip, giving herself over to it, letting everything else fall away as she wraps her legs around him. "More, please. Harder." she pants out. He pushing down with his knees and bucks into her feeling her body shudder, her thighs tightening around him as he decides to give over, pressing his forehead to hers as her mouth fell open with praise and moans.

"Fuck love, I'm gonna..." he grunts out, his face pained, his head shaking back and forth.

"Do it." she nods against him. "I'm so bloody close." she lets out a wanton moan.

Once again, he gives her what she asks. He does what his body is telling him to, harder, faster, finish it off. She tightens her grip, locking her arms and legs around him, pulling him against her fully, his arms both on the bed as he pumped into her and she got to hear him right against her ear. A beautifully pained sound she hadn't heard before. With a deep grunt he let's go, pressing against her, giving her the final kick of feeling she needed. The sounds they spilled out into the room weren't like that of what she'd heard from her friend. They were deeper, softer, more desperate. No dirty words shared, just the slap of skin to skin that she knew meant she was getting what she needed.

It washes over her, a feeling of being shaken, electricity through her limbs, her face screwing up as deep grunts escaped her she'd never heard before. Having already finished, but being young he keeps going as long as he can, trying to give her everything. He whines at the sensitivity, her squeezing so tightly around him. Something he'd never felt before her. Her grunts turn to light moans, feeling her finally loosen her grip on him.

They lay still and entangled, his face pressed next to her hers. She felt a sense of calm, of peace for a fleeting moment with him in the afterglow. She closes her eyes and pretends they're somewhere else, another time perhaps when things weren't so confusing, when they were older and more established, having been through these growing pains already.

"Can I stay with you tonight? Here? Can we stay like this?" she whispers, not opening her eyes, unwilling to leave the fantasy behind.

"Stay as long as you like." he answers softly, kissing her cheek. "We can stay just like this if that's what you want." he offers, now resting his head on her chest, listening to her heart and her breathing, smelling the mixture of expensive perfume and sweat from her.

"Yes. For now. Just... stay like this. On me... in me, like this." her voice is barely audible, her fingers now in his hair, lazy strokes that make his eyelids feel heavy. "I do want to do that again before I leave." she smiles, eyes still closed, feeling him smile against her skin.

"I'll do it as many times I can for ya love." he plants a kiss to her sternum.

Her mind wanders. Blissful from orgasm and holding a boy she loved in her arms, her mind drifts to better thoughts, forgetting they were spending what was most likely their last night together. "I love you Alfie." she leans to kiss his head. "No matter what happens." she shakes her head slowly.

"And I love you, Lucy. No matter what happens." he promises to her in the dark.

The future felt so infinite and empty at that moment for them. They knew they'd live, but being young and in love was something that was rather life ending in a way when it happens for the first time. When you come across that heartbreak, having to keep going through the pain of it, part of you does die. But another version of yourself, another life is born from it. A new set of eyes to see the world with, a new outlook without the rose-colored glasses young love afforded. They did long to be someone else and they'd found that in each other. But now facing losing the person they had been able to pretend with, they were both left in the cold. The harsh reality of having to find out how to make themselves who they wanted to be alone lie before them now.

----- "I don’t know when I’m going to be able to see you again.” She whispered her fingertips light on his clean-shaven face, his eyelashes casting shadows over his cheeks as his lips twitched.

“I know.” He whispers back solemnly, a nod against her forehead.

“She might lock me away.” She gulps, not wanting to separate from him. “She said she was going to arrange a marriage.” A tear falls down her cheek and her lips tremble and a sob breaks out.

“Shhh shhhh.” He pulls her close, holding her head as she beginning to sob into his jacket. “I’m sorry Lucy. I am really am. There’s nothing I can do. Your family... “ he begins, knowing her world was different from his, knowing a scrappy lad like him wouldn’t be able to ever be good enough for her in their eyes.

She nods and wipes her face. “I know. You’re right.” she takes a deep breath. “They’d never allow it.” She returns her gaze to his face lit beautifully by the street lamp. “I’ll be forever sorry it ended like this.” Her voice was so full of misery. “No matter what does happen, know I did love you. I know I’ll think of you often. And fondly." She gives him a smile that he knows is a shield but he accepts it anyway.

"You'll be with me in some way always, Lucy. I can't give you the life that you deserve, the one that your family has, the one they want for you but..." he shakes his head and she sees the heartbreak and defeat that lie there. “I love you Lucy. I wish I was a better man to-“

“You’re the best man, Alfie. Don’t let anyone tell you any differently. To me you’re more than enough. I'd rather have you than anything some strangers money could give me.”

“I’ll miss you Lucy. I’ll miss everything about you, love.”

“Promise you won’t forget me?” she asks with a sad sob that escapes, a smile still forced to her face.

“Never.” He whispers. “You don’t forget someone when they made me feel like you did.”

———

Her mother kept her word. Within the month, after being kept under close watch in her home a marriage was arranged. A family within the same means of her own, not from the same school she’d went to but he had the same air to him as the posh lads she knew.

She was thrown quickly into a world she didn’t want to be a part of. She missed beer and pubs and fights. The company of people who were unapologetically themselves. Patching him up after his fights and conversations on the poorly made roof of Jacks dusty flat. Now she was dressed in gowns and had to speak with etiquette, be touched by a boy who had never been in a fight before, who had no passion. Someone that didn’t know what struggle was and it was plain to see in his actions. She cried on her wedding day. She found out this was commonplace and received no sympathy for it. These realizations that came with her moving into adult life only made her miss her days spent in the east end more. It had only been months, but that version of herself already felt a lifetime away.

They were married in the summer. A hot day with a stuffy dress full of fake smiles and thanks. Her wedding night was unceremonious. More business transaction than personal.

She didn’t get to settle in fully to married life with this man. For the war came and before she knew it he was gone. Everyone was gone it seemed. Jack had gone, Alfie had gone. All her schoolmates. Just gone. The next years were long and lonely. A great span of time with other wifes left behind, then time spent with the war widows, later on, the two groups much the same by the war's end. She felt guilty for not grieving more. But she’d barely known the man.

She had gone to school and went to work after that. With a house and money that was in her name, she grew bored quickly alone. She missed being out in the world, missed interacting with real people. She wanted to have her own life and she’d been given that opportunity. She knew she needed to move forward.

One unassuming spring afternoon she’s out at the market, basket in hand and picking out food for tea. With the day free she planned on spending it cooking, then perhaps curl up with her pastries and a good book by the fire. She’s busy perusing a cart of apples and paying no mind to anything around her. Inside her own head was where she lived the most after all.

Alfie heard about Lucy through Marnie. The marriage, the house, the money. He was told she was miserable, but he hoped she could find solace in the comfort those things could provide. He couldn’t give them to her after all. And she deserved it.

He channeled that hurt into his fighting. He beat every opponent, working his way up and becoming focused. He was set to move up to real fights anytime. With real boxers and real audiences with real money. He was on the brink of something, making something of himself, he could feel it.

But then the war came. The fever that was sparked from it swept up everyone he knew, the poor going off with either hope of a better life after for serving or some left with a sense of patriotism. He enlisted because there was no more boxing for him with everyone gone. The young lads, the promoters who were still of age, everyone started leaving. He thought he’d give it a shot, best go in by choice and accept it then be pulled into it by force later.

The war changed him. As was the nature of it. Perhaps his education and his familiarity with fighting and violence led him to make it though. Although with being a Captain it certainly felt like he was a fraud at times. Little east end tosser like him a Captain. That’s how bad it’d gotten. But it did end. And with a title, a new outlook on what his life would be now. With old hopes abandoned and new goals now set, he knew he could use what he learned in the war to his advantage. And that’s exactly what he did. He didn’t want to be one of the men he saw who were shells in themselves after. Some mad as hatters, not able to leave the war behind.So he settled back into London, and with his old schoolmate Darby, another fellow child of immigrants, he began a new business venture.

He stomps out of the building towards the town car that waited in the street for him. His shoulders now broader, his face covered in a beard, now with hair that was far overgrown what it had been before the war. Hidden under a bulking coat and hat he stopped to lay out instructions to one of his employees before departing. Growing annoyed with the lad's thickness, he stands and sighs, eyes rolling and lips pursed in a clear display of dissatisfaction.

“What the fuck is wrong with ya? I could go get anyone else in this whole fuckin market, yeah? And they’d be better at following simple fuckin instructions than you.” His hand lifted and motioning to the crowd. “Fuckin any one of these wankers out here.” He gruffs as his eyes follow the path of his hand to make a connection to someone he saw, use his cleverness to make the boy feel bad. But instead, he paused. The boy watches his bosses face go slack, his arm slowly falling back to his side.

“Sir?” The boy asks, looking in the same direction and finding nothing of interest.

But she’d caught his eye. Just like she had all those years ago. Her in the middle of a crowd and his eyes drawn to her like there was no one else. She'd changed just the same as him. Taller, darker hair fell to her shoulders as her dress fluttered about her calves as she walked.

“Get in the car lad.” He says, watching her walk through the booths of fruit.

“Sir?”

He returns his eyes to the boy. Annoyed he had to look away. “I said get in the fuckin car ya daft child. I’ll be back. Sit here and don’t fuckin go anywhere. Don’t speak to no one. Lest they know what a bellend you are.” He says, beginning to cross the street, shoving the boy out of the way.

The closer he gets, the more certain he was that it was his Lucy. Well, not his Lucy anymore. She was grown now, the same as him. He trails her for a bit, seeing no one approach her. No man, no children. He sees no ring on her dainty finger and he tries not to become hopeful.

He decides to close in. He stands next to her, not noticing him as she’s away in her thoughts as she would get sometimes. He sees her face set indifferently, she fingers through her pocketbook to pay. But he interjects.

“I’ll pay for the lady.” He says, handing the money over to the man behind the stand. “And she’ll take some of them berries too.” He adds, her eyes full of surprise at first for a strangers kindness, then he watched her face shift. A polite smile to recognition with wide eyes. “That is if she still likes em like she used to.” He gives her a nod.

Her mouth stutters for a moment before forming his name. “Alfie?” She says in disbelief. She hadn’t even known if he’d survived the war. Let alone come back to London. He was like a ghost appearing out of nowhere. Her heart raced and her hand rose to her chest.

“Lucy.” He nods and the grin he gives her makes her lashes flutter with its charm. His eyes were the same. His face now covered and he stood taller, an air of importance to him now, his clothes old fashioned but well made and clean. His voice was deeper and rougher but those plush lips still sat across those slightly wonky teeth just the same.

“Oh, my word.” She whispers. “You? You?” She doesn’t know what to ask or say first. So much comes flooding back.

“Me, me. Yeah, love.” He laughs, taking the produce and handing it to her. He feels an inkling of hope when she takes it from him and doesn’t move her eyes from his.

“I didn’t know you were back.” She begins with. "Or even alive." she adds with a whisper.

“I am.” He nods. “I saw ya when I's leaving a meetin' and I thought there’s no way that’s little Lucy.”

“Not so little now.” She gives an awestruck smile.

“Ya got a minute to talk?” He inquires, holding his arm out to her to take.

“Yes!” She says fast with a quick nod. More reason to feel hopeful. She takes his arm as they walk aimlessly, she can’t take her eyes off him. “How are you?” She asks first.

“Oh, I’m fine.” He dismisses. “Always workin' it seems. More importantly, how are you love?”

“I’m... I'm fine. Had the day off and thought I’d come out to buy some things to bake.”

“Oh ya baking now?”

“Only as a hobby. I’m actually a secretary in town now.”

“Ya workin?” He asks clearly surprised. He expected her to be a kept woman.

“Yes. I grew tired of sitting alone in the house.”

“Alone?”

“Yes. I... well, I’m just another war widow now I’m afraid. So I support myself.”

“My condolences love.” He gives her a polite nod.

She stops and narrows her eyes at him for a moment. “You should know they aren’t needed.”

The weight of her words hits him. There was hope. A bloom bursting inside him he had been avoiding. “Well, what of the little ones? You have your own army of nanny’s to take care of them?”

“I don’t have any children.” She answers simply. "My husband left for the war shortly after we were married."

No husband, no children and working for herself and living alone was exactly the opposite of how he’d expected to find her. If he ever did.

“What about you?” She asks timidly, afraid of his response.

“Same as you it would seem.” He gives her a slow nod.

"You're a war widow?" she asks with an inkling of humor that makes a broad smile grow across his face. Bless her, she still had her cleverness.

He looks away, a groan of a sound at her cheeky response before returning his eyes to hers, finding them beaming at him. "Ahhhh. Not that no." he shakes his head and lets out a breathy laugh. "Never married. War 'n all." he gives a stern nod.

There’s silence for a moment. Both thinking the same thing but not knowing how to say it.

“Would you like to get some tea sometime Alfie?” She asks. His stomach tightens. What a forward little bird she’d become.

“I would. But how would dinner sound instead?” He leans closer.

“Like a real date?” She smirks. He was so relieved to find her sense of humor still intact. The same quirky and judgmental glance he remembered.

“Would ya like it to be?”

“I’ll say yes if it is.” A wide smile spreads across her face.

“Then it is indeed a date, love. You have the day off ya said? Would it be too forward of me to suggest tonight?”

“It would not.” She says softly. “I believe we have some time to make up for.” She says with a cheeky smile.

“I do hope so, Lucy.”

“You don’t have to hope Alfie.” She gives him the same adoring smile from years ago, moving to take his hand into hers. “We most certainly do.”

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this@shine-dont-shadow @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou @elaenom @give-jack-a-lightsaber @anrm1 @ultrablackwidower @tinastarkandco @arrowswithwifi   @marvelgirl7 @they-are-not-just-stories   @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes

I just tagged everyone who is tagged in my other Alfie fic, Choking On Sapphires.

[fapangel]

It takes a special kind of conservative to pretend they actually give a shit about civilians in Syria (a conservative who supported his party's concerted opposition to military intervention under Obama), while also trying to paint Hitler as a guy who didn't use chemical weapons on his own people on a technicality. The method of delivery doesn't mean the gas in the chambers wasn't a weapon. You don't care about people who aren't white or conservative, unless you can score points among friends.

The method of delivery is a technicality? I guess that’d make Kennedy a raging fucking moron for almost starting a war because the Soviets put some missiles in Cuba, wouldn’t it? This is before getting into the differences between use of weapons of mass destruction and fucking genocide, which are pretty fucking significant in the modern geopolitical context. Why didn’t the UN - or Obama - do fuck-all to stop the ongoing genocide in Darfur, but they did get their hands dirty in Syria? Maybe because there’s a fucking difference between weapon attacks on enemy populations and the systematic fucking murder of your own? The alternative explanation is that Obama, the Anointed one, just didn’t fucking care, and that is clearly impossible, isn’t it? 

And where the fuck do you get off telling me what I did or didn’t support? You really, really fucking think that the party that plunged balls-deep into Iraq War 2: Saddamizer Boogaloo was against fucking over an Islamist theocratic dictatorship? Maybe, just maybe, we had little to no faith in Obama’s ability to not fuck it all up. The only thing Obama did right was the Afghanistan troop surge (you know, the thing McCain kept arguing Obama wouldn’t do, i.e. a Republican-endorsed strategy.) He refused to extend US troop presence in Iraq (leaving the power vacuum that fueled ISIS rising), badly over-used drone strikes to our detriment because he was squeamish over casualties, and generally just did a piss-poor job of it. And to the surprise of fucking nobody, he fucked up Syria, too, like the famous “500 million dollars spent to train five moderate rebels” debacle after dithering so long the fucking Atlantic and NYT took him to task over it. This is the kind of military misadventure and total cockup that Americans have come to expect from Democrats, like the Bay of Pigs fustercluck or the entire fucking Vietnam war - thanks, Camelot! 

Compare this to Republican shenanigans, such as Iran-Contra: We were selling weapons to Iran - thus prolonging the vicious war they were in with Iraq, who was our public ally at the time - and then turning around and using the money to support anti-communist rebels in South America. Yes, back when Rumsfeld was shaking hands with Saddam - as liberals reminded us thrice a fucking day during the Bush years - we were funneling arms to their enemies to ensure the ongoing war would gut both of the bloodthirsty lunatic bastards and ol Saddam didn’t have a clue. Fuckin brilliant, eh?  And if it weren’t for the dogged efforts of fucking Democrats, they never would’ve, either. Thanks, Democrats! And then there’s the invasion of Grenada, where boots touched the actual fucking ground without it turning into instant quicksand, despite frenzied (Democratic) predictions to the contrary. It’s always rich to listen to the party of Lyndon B. Johnson lecturing us on “quagmire.”

And the turd atop this shit-swilling sundae is being told I don’t really care about anyone who isn’t white and nerdy. I’ve met you motherfuckers who “care” before. See, I care about the genocide in Darfur, about the people being mass-murdered by the government giving explicit support to the Islamic Janjiweed militia. I vividly remember being called a “racist bigot” for suggesting that we start a fundraiser to buy a thousand AK-47s and a million rounds of ammunition on the international (and not even that dark) arms market to airdrop to the refugee camps in Darfur so they could protect themselves, because the UN, the USA and everyone else sure wouldn’t. You scum-sucking self-fellating fucks care about nothing but showcasing how much you care, which is why it’s always the last defense you mount after all pretenses to arguments have been demolished like the trash they are. It’s all that was there in the first place, the kernel of all your bullshit, your claim to care. Consistency in this caring doesn’t matter, which is why Democrats, who loathe Israel and have attacked them at every juncture, can sit there and scream about antisemitism without blinking, because all that matters is being seen in the beautiful and purifying act of caring - so you can, how did you put it? Ah, yes, score points with friends. 

So while you’re at it, why don’t you pop over to the tumblr of one of my friends and co-writers, qm-vox, and let him know that I don’t really care about him, I just pretend to, to score points. I’m sure he’ll appreciate someone of your keen intellect dispelling the cobweb of lies I’ve used to beguile him.