#( interaction / alfie )

[squidprinceofwinterfell]

[thebibliosphere]

Thinking longingly about him again. (The Pennyworth series for some inexplicable reason.)

[thedevilshardy]

"Ain't no wonder you're wet, luv."

Alfie Solomons x Reader - Interactive gif-Story

❗smutty little thing it is, loves.

You have no idea, simply no idea at all why the fuck this man has something in his gaze that totally gets you. You were born and raised to be a stubborn woman, to question everything and all - but with him, it's different. And it's in his damn intense gaze, those eyes lying heavy on you, giving you the pleasuring feeling in your guts that you've done something wrong, something he might punish you for. Cause you know him, you know what people say about him, his hands, that one gaze.

He doesn't only talk with his eyes, but also with his hands. Broad hands, picked with jewellery, thick fingers wearing rings that you know feel fucking cold and heavy on your skin.

He touches the lamp beside him. His gaze is still on you, your body, fixing every single breath you take. He still doesn't say anything, but you can feel it heavy in the air, the question he's about to ask. His thumb glides over his index finger, as if to correct the ring that sits there, a gesture that gives you pure goosebumps. It's the same gesture, the same small movement he makes when he strokes your clit, rings hard-cold against the small, wet, throbbing knob of flesh of yours. You breath out, trying not to make it look obvious how he fucking gets you just with this.

"Where were you last night?", he asks, voice dark and heavy, a thrilling throb in your pussy. It makes you shiver, that voice. You bite your lower lip, watching how his fingers make that one, intense motion again.

"I was off. Needed some sleep", you say, and he watches you like he knows you're lying. You needed sleep though, you really did, as he had fucked and fucked you raw the night before, goddamn. So good you needed a pause, afraid he'll lose his interest in you.

"Off you were, mm." God, that voice, it directly seems to drive into your folds, as if his broad thick fingers are already thrusting into you.

He strokes his beard, eyes all dark and wanting, and you cannot even answer. He does, though, and the answer won't make your already growing lust for this man any better.

"You should've been on my lap, luv, riding ma dick, nothing else. You know what? I can see you're wet right now, aren't you? Fuckin' leaking for me, dove, and you know what? I'm gonna fuck you. Fuck that dumb thought of being away from me right out of ya."

He stands up from his chair, god he really does, his gaze on your body like it has already ripped your clothes off. You breath out, trying desperately to think something clear.

Choice is yours. 🔥 Part II follows when the decision is made on what you wanna see!

[nikatyler]

Mariah's Looks ✨

Links

[tojiscumdumpster]

i remember i use to be down that my fics didn’t get a lot of notes (sometimes i still do), but overall, im grateful for having a small account because its easier for me interact with you all. and also, i just love that i have a little circle of people who consistently comment on my fics and give me a whole essay about how the chapter made you feel. it genuinely warms me 🥺❣️

[wa-royal-tea]

Sometimes it's good to take a break from taking screenies and just enjoy the game as is bcs I just discovered the cutest interactions ever 😭😭😭

[filthytheodeckerkinnie]

The gay vampires keep making each other worse 😔

[cloudyfacewithjam]

"Gentlemen, this is a theatre of war, not a playground."

[comshipbracket]

Hi I have further propaganda for Makoyuma!

Major spoilers for the whole game

Makoto gives Yuma a lot of gifts, including:

• a new submarine after theirs got exploded

• Not Going To Jail

• A drive to Amaterasu's HQ (for those who haven't played, Amaterasu is the big bad corporation behind most of the problems in the game.) This is important because Makoto rarely leaves his house

• A box that suspiciously looks like a marriage proposal ring box. It has sleeping gas in it but shhh.

Also, Makoto spends all of chapter 5 trying to get Yuma to hate him so they can have a cool anime battle. His goal is to either kill Yuma or have Yuma kill him, the only reason they both live is because Yuma is a little sweetie pie.

ONE MORE THING, Makoto has weird feelings towards Yuma (he refers to himself as Yuma's son once, then says it was a joke), he can't really seem to decide if he's better than Yuma or if Yuma's better since he's the original.

"OH YEAH one more thing for Makoyuma (I am so sorry I'm bombarding you with boys) Makoto saves Yuma's life and then takes him to his big penthouse, tucks Yuma into bed, then goes to take a bath. In the main area of the penthouse. So when Yuma wakes up we (and he) get to see Makoto in the bath. This is one of the only instances of fan service in the game too. Makoto also offers for Yuma to take a bath with him. Seems pretty gay to me !!!!"

Thanks for the ship propaganda!

Link to MakoYuma poll Here.

- Mod Satou (She/Her Only)

[intcxications]

open to: females. 21+. connection: pastor/best friend's daughter. a friend of his son/daughter. go wild with whatever you think you'd want to go with it.

alfie wasn’t someone whom he could say that he was a holy man. sure, he went to church with his wife every sundays and prayed to the lord when he could. however, he couldn’t help but find himself staring at a certain woman singing at choir whenever he went. she was such a beautiful woman, that no one but a pair of blind eyes would be able to take their gaze off her. oh, he had noticed her looking back at him with such innocence in those eyes of hers, though he couldn’t help but notice a hint of flirtation from her, making wonder if she wasn’t as pure as she seemed. there was no way she was making those eyes at a married man like he was, would she? not when her family practically ran the church. he takes the risk, however, as he had gone out of his way to see her. she was there, alone, and like always, he was left entranced by the beauty of the young woman before him — needing him to take a good few seconds before he announces his presence by clearing his throat and saying, "how come you're still here? shouldn't you be at home by now?"

[dragetunge]

@vendettavalor sent: This is new land. A new place. A lush continent overrun with beaches and woodlands and fields and rivers. But from an aerial view, there’s been no signs of any settlements. No smoke. No buildings. Not even fires in the night. And if there are dragons, they are few and far between. So this weapon in the sand: a finely crafted blade of bone and silver- where did it come from?

Curious croons resound as the dragons paws closer to the mysterious item that had caught his eye. Rider idly tossing seashells he had found into the waters close by as the dragon slowly wraps gummy maw around the hilt. Pulling it out of the sand as he goes to run off to show the rider what he had found.

Night fury cares not for who it belonged to. It now belonged to him. As it should.

[manybcdthings]

center hill

alfie anderson and hunter cross @blackheartatl

Fuck Lia's smooth sounding Tennessee accent. "Talking about taking him to a god damn zoo." Hunter scolded quietly to himself while already fighting with the travel seat into the back of his truck, a scowl on his face like it was painted there. "And I fucking said alright, like an idiot. You hearing me, Nash? Never agree to something a woman says, boy. I'm telling you now." Fuck Tennessee, too. Fuck Nashville for that matter. Did they all just walk around with comforting little drawls and got their own way all the time? "You even like animals, huh?" Hunter then asked firmly to Nash who gave his best shrug and laugh. It made a small crack in the temper, at least, Hunter huffing slightly with a chuckle. Just as he turned, he spotted Alfie wandering over. Immediately, his head shook from side to side as he was lifting the car seat into the truck for the millionth attempt. "What happened to that last thirty bucks, Alf? You think I got idiot on my forehead and wallet?" he preempted the question he knew was coming.

[thedevilshardy]

"Ain't no wonder you're wet, luv." Part II

Alfie Solomons x Reader - Interactive gif Story

Smut ❗

He's right in front of you in not a breath of your lungs, eyes still heavy on you, gaze lingering on the pulsing search for air of your lungs. He watches you a second, without a word, as if he knows that his scent makes your knees go all weak.

"You haven't been behaving quite good, have ya?", he says, and it's rough and hard like sand thrilling over your bare skin. You try to hold his gaze, the heaviness of his eyes.

"No, I haven't. I need something."

"You need somethin', yeah?" His voice is like a cut in the air, harsh, wanting - but before he can do anything at all, it's suddenly the lust that speaks out of you, that makes you move first. Your hands claw into the collar of his shirt, as tight as you can with those shaking bones - you put all your strength into that movement, pushing him right back from where he came, back to that chair. He huffs quietly once he's settled, and you can hear an approving, low grunt when you sit down wide-legged on his lap.

You can see the smirk behind the thick hairs of his beard, feeling the throb in your pussy when you notice it. It makes you push your legs tight next to his, next to his muscular big thighs that fucking scream to be used for a good ride. And you feel something else, making your mouth open up like you want his dick right in there: you can feel his thick cock twitching, right between your legs, that clothed big thing that always fucks you like it knows how to kill you. You breath out shakingly, his eyes still in your body. You can feel his hands sliding up your sides, grabbing the small hills of your hips. He puts pressure there, those broad fingers digging into your skin like he knows you won't leave before he fucked you for good.

"So that's it, hun? You wanna have some decent lap time with me? Sitting on that dick, right, letting it dive right into your wet cunt? Are you wet for me, luv?"

You begin to sweat from his words. But instead of answering his damn arousing phrases (oh god do they fucking turn you on!), you push down your hips, push down your weight on him to let him feel. You still watch him while you do it, while you grind your pussy down on that thick dick on those pants, rubbing against the hard muscles. And it makes you fucking leak, feeling that still clothed cock grinding against your pussy, friction making you soak your panties.

"Yeah, like that", he hums, and those hands cup your ass, pull you closer to his face. His breath is hot against your throat, hot wet clamp, making you even more dizzy then before.

"Oh dear god", you moan out, fingers grabbing the heated surface of his neck. You need some support, something to hold on, while you throb against the arousing friction of his dick against your clothed folds.

"As I see it, we have two options here, luv", he whispers harsh against your throat, giving it a decent bite, "either I'mma rip down your panties right fuckin' now, fuck you till you can't walk anymore - just by thrusting up into your cunt luv, you know I can still make you scream twice like that, yeah. Or - another option, hun, giving me a bit of a thrill. Hump ma clothed dick until you come."

Your heart, your lung, your fucking pussy nearly explodes at his words. Your thighs are already shaking, and you're already so wet you know he can feel it. You lick your lips, still staring open-mouthed at his face, while his gaze literally eats you alive. His broad fingers still grab your ass, pulling those cheeks apart and letting them settle back, letting you know what he wants from you.

I hope you enjoyed this! 🔥 excited for your choices. 😈

[marksman-ofthe-mist]

that's how i met that bastard of a dog, you know

[artificialnocturnesblog]

A Midsummer Night's Deal - Thomas Shelby x Original Female Character - Peaky Blinders - Chapter One

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Warning: Canon-Typical Violence / Aristocracy / Historical Inaccuracy / Slow Romance/ Marriage of Convenience/

Summary: Thomas Shelby had no other choice but to get a proper wife, one more suitable for the times of shiny magazines and society photographs, one with a pristine past and no personal history. ...or at least that's what he expected of her.

Aristocrats and gangsters have a lot in common. 

They’re both selfish, get bored easily, and have access to wads of cash they didn’t work honestly to get.  The topper?  Neither have any interest in bourgeois rules or morality. 

Put it all together with a roulette wheel and you get a stunning recipe for success.

“Thomas. We do so hate to be indiscreet, but we have told you many times, if you are to seek power in these days of shiny magazines and society photographs, sooner or later, you will have to find a spouse who is more suitable.” Oswald’s words pounded like a bell inside Tommy’s head, he took deep breaths as an actual bell rang, loud and clear, unlike his thoughts. “A woman with Lizzie's past and personal history really isn't suitable.” He closed his eyes briefly, trying to shake them away, to no avail. “She doesn't deserve you, Mr. Shelby.”

But she does? Thomas questioned himself, as he placed a soft kiss on the pearly gloved his soon-to-be wife had on, trying not to focus on her teary eyes.

“If anyone has an objection to this wedding, speak now, or forever hold your peace.” The priest asked, hoping, no, praying, for no interruptions. As did the bride’s family. 

“ahm…” The girl merely opened her mouth, glanced to her side, and decided to hold her peace, figuring it would be the only peace she would have from now on. 

“Very well, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband…and wife.” Thomas sighed, forcing a smile, mirroring the crowd gathered inside the church. “You now may kiss the bride.” As soon his hands touched her cheek, he felt the single wet tear that escaped her eyes, falling on his fingers, It was warm but it felt like fire, burning his skin. 

He kissed her regardless, despite the silent cries that came from his wife, and hated himself for it, but not more than she did. His wife.

His pristine, suitable for shiny magazines and society photographs wife. 

Her past and personal history wasn’t like Lizzie’s, it somehow managed to be worse, but who cares when you have money, lands, and a title? 

Not Thomas, not the upper class that surrounded them, oblivious to her true past, or the relatives that dealt her off, relieved to see her gone and neither did the girl herself, after all, she’s a Shelby now.

They did meet in a curious setting, so of course things wouldn’t be as simple

“Close your mouths, eh?” Thomas had warned his brothers as they made their way into the manor. Lord Harold Tate Rutherford was hosting a party with all the interested parties, aristocrats, politicians, and gangsters if there’s any difference at all in such a peculiar crowd. Even though he was part of it, the thought of mingling with the rest of them, made his empty stomach churn. “Those bastards are taught to look down at us since birth, let’s not give them any reason.” 

“Yes, my lord.” Finn smiled and saluted him, walking around the room, wasting no time grabbing a glass of whiskey from a server, whose tray nearly turned when Arthur took two cups at once.  

“Arthur.” His icy blue eyes burned a hole in his brother’s back. 

“Don’t worry, I promised Linda that I would be on my best behavior.” Arthur’s response was unsatisfactory to Thomas, who tilted his head and fixed his tie. “What?”

“Just amused by how tight your leash is.” Thomas scoffed and left his older brother behind. His mood was dreadful as ever, he barely got any sleep and if he did, he was tormented by awful nightmares and worries. 

Worrying became part of him, that’s all he had done for the past few months and he was sick of it. Even if a Lord’s house, well, mansion, was supposedly neutral grounds, it didn’t mean his fellow associates wouldn’t try anything, which would force him to strike back. 

Took him less than a minute to spot Jack Nelson, Oswald Mosley, and worse than all combined, Oswald’s wife, Diana. 

“Mr. Shelby!” Diana came smiling as venomously as always, greeting him a little too closely for his, and Oswald’s, liking. “I was wondering if you had gotten lost. I’m sure it’s your first time in a place like this.” She gesticulated around the pompous room. “It’s easy for your people to get lost.”

“Diana.” Oswald gave her a side eye, smirking nevertheless. “Play nice. I’m sure Mr. Shelby hasn't come all this way from his abode to be picked on.”

“From what I heard, all three of them died. Those nationalists took full responsibility for the attack.” An old woman who had an unbearable smell of funeral flowers whispered as she walked past them, eying him with disdain.

“Well, Mosley,  haven’t, indeed. Especially by two low-ranked pricks that shouldn’t be here in the first place.” His tone was as smooth as the liquor he sipped on. 

“I beg your pardon?” Oswald scoffed, his face turning red from anger.

“Oh, forgive me, I thought you knew. You see, you can’t help to hear people gossiping in a place like this.” His dark brows knitted together, faking confusion as he glanced around the room, gesturing discreetly. “It’s all they talk about.” He raised one suggestive eyebrow, just in time to spot the older woman from before who pointed and whispered, as she wore her best jewelry, desperate to bring some light to her wrinkled and faded by-time face.

Diana’s face turned into a bitter scowl mask but quickly masked up when Jack Nelson came by accompanying Lord Harold, followed by his two children. Twins, Edgard, and Genevieve. Wicked mean-spirited people with even more wicked ways of living, Thomas had heard. 

“My apologies for keeping you all waiting!” Harold said with a smile that didn’t reach his grey eyes. “I’m afraid I got caught up in family matters.”

“Nonsense, Harold.” Diana reached her hand but Genevieve’s sneer was faster. “Lord Tate.”

“Rutherford.” Edgard corrected. “Is Lord Rutherford, not Harold, not Tate. Lord Rutherford.”

“Alright, you two. Enough picking on my guests, that’s extremely rude and unlike you.” Something in his tone told Thomas that this was exactly like them. “Why don’t you two check on your sister, and see if she’ll join us for dinner? Take Lady Diana with you.” Harold’s fake smile dropped as did his facade as soon they left. “Children.” He scoffed. “Good to pass your name on, nothing else. Don’t you agree Mr. Shelby?” 

All eyes turned to him who had been bored out of his mind in this conversation. 

“I don’t have children.” He simply said, happy to see Diana gone. Ever since she tricked him into her bed, she has been more unbearable than ever. He wondered if Oswald knew.

“Nor wife?” Harold frowned his forehead, remembering the extensive report someone brought. He could swear he read the word wife . 

“Not anymore.”

“Oh, I see.” Oswald hid his smile, knowing that Lizze had left him when she discovered he had cheated on her with Diana. That was the last drop. 

This led him to sit at the table, having something similar to what he compared to the Last Supper, except there was no Peter’s or John’s, all but Judas’s around him, in a place that had absolutely no resemblance of anything holy. At least, Jesus had eleven left, I have one , he thought as he glanced at Arthur. Maybe less . 

“Well, at least the mourning suits her.” The elderly crone from earlier continued gossiping. “Do you think she’s with child?”

“Gladys!” Someone reprimanded her but she ignored it. “Stop it, they’ll hear you.” 

“Please, she didn’t even bother to learn the language, not even after her engagement! Spent all her life in sunny Spain, not a word in English. She should thank her uncle, if it was up to me, she could rot elsewhere.” Her tone was harsh, as harsh as the paint she had on her face, the red blusher making her look like a doll, in the worst way imaginable.

“Mr. Shelby, may I have a word?” The host asked, as discreetly as he could, leading him through long, never-ending halls, finally reaching what he figured to be his office. “So, do we have a deal?” He asked as he opened the door, signaling to the girl sitting by the window. “I give you my blessing, you marry my niece.”

“But you get to keep the winery.” Thomas nodded, looking at her for the first time. She had dark hair, such as him, bright but tired eyes, such as him, highborn and noble, not like him. “I heard that she doesn’t speak the language.” 

“Oh, our Ellie is keen to learn it, however, we do have a maid that came from her old house, she’s been our guide in the meanwhile.” Harold sounded almost like a regular vendor, trying to upsell his rotten fruits. “It won’t be a problem, but a blessing in a business such as yours, Mr. Shelby.”

“Can you leave us for a moment?” He asked, looking intensely at the girl who seemed worried. “I would like to talk to her alone.”

“Do you speak the language, Mr. Shelby?” The host said in disbelief, but one cold glare was more than enough, so he left the room.“

“Well, my condolences.” He said, lighting up his cigarette but she just kept looking at him as if she was trying to read him. She was from the Spanish nobility, being raised somewhere he knew he wouldn’t belong but at this point, she looked more out of place than him. “Not a word in English, eh?” 

The girl sighed and looked away, not managing to hold his inquisitive gaze. Thomas was suspicious by nature, he wouldn’t lower his guard, not in a place like this, but curiosity and drunkenness spoke louder. 

“I hear your relatives are dead.” He jabbed. No response. “That you’re the sole heir to an impressive winery your fucker of an uncle is after.”

She looked at him as if had a second mouth on his forehead, looking confused as ever. 

Nothing yet. 

“You know what I think? I think that snobs bastards, heirs if you will, just like yourself are what is wrong with this country. Leeches, feeding off the poor and the common man. If you ask me, your father, brother, and groom had it coming.” 

Still, nothing. She sat down, fidgeting her fingers, nervously.

“Maybe I should just kill him, marry you, and keep the winery to myself.” He pondered, circling her. “What would you think of that?”

“I would be forever grateful.” Her words were vigorous, the fire in her eyes much like his now as she held her hands to her lips, her eyes wide in shock.

He was indeed shocked but remained calm and collected, as usual. “I thought you didn’t speak the language.”

“I’m a fast learner.” Her accent was noticeable, not as thick as he would expect from someone who was still learning. “As are you.”

“What makes you say that? I’m sure your family will be as impressed as I am.”

“You won’t tell him.” She sighed, clutching her crucifix. “They won't believe you. I know that because you know you need a more better wife. A wife that even as foreign, holds more credibility than you. That’s why you need me and you know that.”

“Better wife, not more better.”

“Forgive me, I’m still learning, as you know.” She smiled, and he knew he found what was needed, not what he wanted. “I can cry if you want to, now or at the wedding.” But if she was up for the part, who was he to deny her that? After a short silence of consideration, Thomas Shelby had decided to seal the deal. “Save it for the wedding.” 

[hookechoes]

seriously, what is up with the fucking peaky blinders ao3 tag. i mean. im not judging people who like to write their self-insert OFCs or tommy/reader fics, like do whatever you want, but where are the, for lack of a better word, regular ones? like... canon-compliant? missing scenes? tommy/grace? character studies? family-centric? pre-canon?? like where am i

please if you see this and you know of any good ones. let me know. im in the middle of the sahara out here bro