#Bringing Back Camden

[woso-dreamzzz]

End of the World III

Katie McCabe x Child!Reader

Ruesha Littlejohn x Child!Reader

Summary: It's different at Mammy's house

"I've got you!" Mammy said, reaching down to snatch you up.

You shrieked and tried to pull away but she had you nice and tight, throwing you up into the air and catching you. "Mammy!" You laughed," Let go!"

"No chance!" Mammy declared, pretending to bite at your cheeks.

You laughed again, trying to bat her away as you caught sight of Ma sliding the back door open.

It was an unusually warm day so Ma said you could all eat in the wendy house at the bottom of the garden.

"Katie!" Ma scolded when Mammy turned you upside down and shook.

"We're just playing!" Mammy laughed as she pretended to drop you, much to your amusement and Ma's horror.

"You can play later. Come on, kiddo, help me carry everything out."

As soon as you were on your feet again, you hurried inside to collect the plates Ma wanted you to take. You walked as quick as you could without running (because then Ma would scold you like she scolded Mammy) and placed the plates on the little table in the wendy house that Mammy and Ma built for you last year.

"You got everything, kiddo?" Mammy teased as you moved back and forth between the table and inside.

You thought for a moment, nodding before shaking your head. You bounded over to her and asked," What do you want to drink, Mammy?"

Mammy laughed. "There should be some fruit juice in the fridge, kiddo. Can you get me that?"

"I can!" You scampered off back inside and tugged on Ma's shorts. "Mammy wants fruit juice."

"And she's too lazy to come and get it herself?" Ma teased as she poured some into a glass for you to take.

"I asked!" You said quickly.

"My helpful girl," Ma kissed you on the head before sending you on your way.

On your way to the garden, you begin to feel a little woozy and blink a few times to see the entire garden has gone still and someone's calling your name.

You blink awake suddenly, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes to see Ma kneeling in front of you.

"Hey sleepy girl," She says," You look like you were having a good dream."

You nod sullenly.

Ma puppeteers you into your clothes when it becomes clear that you don't want to move. You've spent your week with Ma and now you're going back with Mammy to Arsenal. You're used to the routine of it now but after your dream, you can't bring yourself to be happy about seeing Mammy again even though you've really missed her since you've been away.

You swing your leg up to put on Ma's knee and she laces up your shoes nice and tight.

Ma does a lot of things she didn't use to do with you. When it was Ma and Mammy and you, you did things all together or with one of them only. Now though, Ma has a lot more time with you. She takes you everywhere, to the park, to the cinema...Anywhere you want to go, she takes you.

You went to the zoo yesterday and the day before that you went to the trampoline park. You scraped your elbow there and Ma gave it special magic kisses and took you to get ice cream.

Something that's become increasingly more regular with Ma is that she holds you. She didn't used to hold you in her arms, just your hand, but she does it a lot now. Sometimes, when she's having one of her bad days, she holds you close and tight and just sits with you. Sometimes, when she's having one of her really bad days, she cries.

You both pretend not to notice.

She smiles at you as she zips up your jacket and helps you wear your backpack. That's new too, decorated with the characters from your favourite show. You went to Camden market the day you came home to her and you saw it at one of the stalls and Ma bought it straight away and then you shared some Dutch pancakes before getting on the tube to go home.

"I love you," She says as she presses a kiss to your cheek. She puts one on your other cheek. "I love you." Then your forehead. "I love you." Your nose. "I love you." Your chin and then your cheeks again. "I love you! I love you! I love you!"

You giggle and try to squirm away when she tries to start it all again. She doesn't let you go and you're thankful when the doorbell rings.

"Mammy!" You cheer, barrelling into her. All of your earlier aloofness towards her has disappeared as you crash into her, arms coming up to wrap around her middle.

"Hey, kiddo!" Mammy laughs as she picks you up," ...Hey, Ruesha."

"Hi, Katie."

You know something bad happened between Ma and Mammy. You know so because you heard Ma discuss it with Auntie Shebahn and Lucy when they were having one of their adult juice nights when you were meant to be sleeping.

Ma mentioned Mammy's adult name a lot and Caitlin's name too but you didn't understand it. All you know is something bad happened and now Ma and Mammy won't even be friends anymore.

"All of her stuff is packed," Ma says to Mammy as you wait on the doorstep, standing on your tiptoes to shyly wave at Caitlin, who was waiting in the car," There's a juice box and snacks too. Her tablet's all charged up and she's got her special pillow too, in case she wants to nap and-"

"I'm her Mam too, Ruesha," Mammy says as she takes your hand," I know what to do with her. Say goodbye to your Ma, kiddo."

"Bye Ma! Love you!"

"Love you too."

Mammy straps you into your car seat and pulls off the driveway.

Caitlin says hello to you before she and Mammy get involved in one of their adult conversations that you don't know how to contribute to. Now that it's just you and Ma, she never has conversations that you can't be included in like Mammy and Caitlin do.

It's a little annoying but it doesn't take too long to get home so you can deal with it.

"Put your stuff away," Mammy says," And then we'll sort out some lunch. Sound good, kiddo?"

"Will you play with me?" You ask.

She winces and brushes a hand over your head. "Later," She promises," I've got some meetings to go to and some emails to answer. But I'll play with you later, okay?"

Ma always plays with you when you ask but this isn't Ma's house and this isn't Ma. The rules at Mammy's are a bit different to Ma's so you just nod and go to put your stuff in your room.

You sit criss-cross-apple-sauce in the living room with some of your barnyard animals, making your tractor drive over the rug. Cooper naps nearby and you give him a kiss in greeting before going back to your game.

Mammy and Caitlin sit at the kitchen table. Mammy's got her headphones on and she's talking to the people on her screen while Caitlin is hunched over a book, scrawling notes with one hand.

You're hungry and Mammy's on one of her special calls that you know you're not meant to interrupt her unless you're hurt. You glance at Caitlin. You know the bad thing that happened between Ma and Mammy had something to do with her so you're a little wary in approaching her but you suck it up because you're hungry.

You tug on her top. "Caitlin?"

"Huh...? Oh, right. Yeah, what's up, kid?"

"I'm hungry. When's lunch?"

Caitlin glances at the kitchen. "I think we've got ham and cheese? Do you want a sandwich?"

"Okay."

Caitlin lifts you up onto the granite countertops as she makes you your sandwich.

"You have to cut it into triangles," You say," And no crusts. Because crusts are bad."

She grins at you. "Triangles and no crusts. Got it, boss."

That makes you giggle a little. You're not the boss.

"Thank you, Caitlin."

You sit by Cooper on the floor to eat your sandwich, playing with your toys. By the time you've finished your sandwich, Mammy has finished her meeting.

"Mammy," You say as she passes you," We can play now?"

"Sorry, kiddo," She replies," I'm still working."

You huff. "But it's later now! You said you would play with me! Ma always plays with me!"

You know it's the wrong thing to say because Mammy's face goes sad for a moment before she presses her lips to the top of your head.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," She says," But I'm very nearly done. Why don't you play with Caitlin? She's free."

You give Caitlin a wary look but she's smiling at you and you've got no other options with Mammy doing work and Cooper asleep. So, begrudgingly, you nod.

Caitlin joins you in front of your farm toys.

You give her a look. "You can be the donkey," You say, passing the toy over to her," And the fat duck. He's fat because he eats bread all the time. He's stupid."

You're sullen and a bit pouty and you keep looking up to see if Mammy's nearly done.

She's working a lot now. Always working or doing something that you can't do. Ma never does anything like that. She always plays with you.

You pout, bottom lip jutting out as you wait for Mammy but she's taking ages.

Caitlin seems to notice because she looks between you both several times before opening her mouth. "Katie!"

Mammy looks up.

"Come and play."

"I have work," Mammy says.

"Nothing that can't wait a few hours," Caitlin says," You haven't seen her all week. Come and play with us."

"Please, Mammy," You say," I promise I won't ask again all visit!"

Something in Mammy's expression shatters as she approaches. She cups your face, running her finger over your cheekbone. She sighs.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," She says," I'll...I'll play with you. You don't have to promise that."

"Mammy needs to work," You say to Caitlin," Not supposed to interrupt her when she works."

It's clear to Katie that you're a bit bummed out about everything. She had plans last night to take you out to the park and to the nice bakery you like but a call from her agent in the car when she drove to pick you up about today's meeting had completely blindsided her and then, when she thought about it, she realised that she had emails that she needed to reply to.

Katie sighs, sitting down on the floor and pulling you into her lap. "No," She says," I don't need to work right now. I've got an adorable little kiddo to play with first."

You give her an odd look like you can't quite believe what she's saying before you look down at your toys with a smile.

"You can be the horse," You say," Because he likes playing rough with his friends."

[solomons-finest-rum]

Saga!! You’re baaaack!! Lovely to see you around these parts again hun 😘 If you’re in the writing mood, can I interest you in a little gif of our favourite Camden based reprobate as inspiration? 😉 xxx

Thank you love! Good to be back (and make my favourite Camden gangster talk nonsense in my fics 🤭🤭🤭)

“Alfie…”

“That is still a ‘no’, luv, all right, and that is final.”

“Alfie Solomons, I am your wife!”

“Playin’ the wife card, are we, right, but two can play this game, sweetheart, yeah? Now, I ain’t one to play dirty, right, and don’t you roll those pretty eyes of yours at me, ‘cause I know what you’re about to say next and the answer’s still bloody ‘no’!”

“Alfie, I am begging you…!”

“Oh, now she’s beggin’, ain’t she, isn’t that a clever thing to do to your husband, right, makin’ ‘im feel all sorts of notions just to win the argument, right, now listen to me, Mrs. Solomons, you women are a clever little breed, right, entirely overlooked and undervalued, yeah, I realise that, luv, an’ I can see that ‘cause you yourself are exceptionally clever, my love, so much so that you went an’ married a clever man, right, a trait that doesn’t apply too often to my kind… There she goes and rolls her eyes again, bloody hell, come back here, woman!”

“No!”

“Come back here at once, ya vexin’ creature, an’ no stompin’ on the bloody stairs, you’ll wake the dogs!”

“Don’t bring the dogs into this!”

“I’ll do as I damn well please in my own fuckin’ house that I paid for!”

“You, Alfie Solomons, are unbelievable!”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment and you know it!”

“Hush now, luv, let’s not argue, right, ‘cause I can take no more of this–”

“Alfie!”

“Right, an’ I can be the bigger person here, darlin’, and to say I love an’ cherish you more than life itself would be an understatement–”

“Unbelievable!”

“So I forgive ya.”

“Go to hell!”

“How many times must I tell ya I already got the ticket done and paid for?!”

“I swear on my brothers, Alfie, I will join you there, because I’ll bloody go and murder my own husband if his nonsense continues!”

“Right! Fuck! Now that right there is just fuckin’ brilliant, right, ‘cause your lovin’ brother is what started the whole fuckin’ thing!”

“Alfie Solomons, you put on a clean shirt right this instance and accompany me to my brother’s wedding or I swear to God, I’ll gut ya with a butter knife!”

“John bloody Shelby gets married at least every other October, what fuckin’ difference does it make if I come or not?!”

“You take that back!”

“Why should I fuckin’ take it back, right, if it’s true?!”

“A butter knife, Alfie Solomons, I swear to God!”

“Naaah, but do ya promise, dearest?! ‘Cause it’s a lovely set your Tommy got us for our anniversary, shame if it fuckin’ goes to waste…! What are ya laughin’ about now?”

“Nothin’… Oh God, Alfie, I bloody love you, you know that?”

“That a trick or somethin’…?”

“No! I just… God, Tommy always said I took after Polly, I just never knew how much… This is bloody ridiculous.”

“Right, you… Right, stop laughin’, woman, you’re bloody ridiculous, stand still… Now your lipstick’s all over the– an’ what was that for?”

“I love you, Alfie Solomons.”

“Right, now, I love ya too, alright, even though you Shelbys are all equally fuckin’ crazy...”

“You knew what you married into.”

“That I bloody did.”

[norrizzandpia]

London Boy (LN4)

Summary: In which she falls in love with a London boy as an American girl

Warnings: mentions of family trauma, but it’s really light, FLUFFFFFFFFFFF

Note: I promise I will stop doing song imagines. I already have a regular imagine in the works, THIS ONE WAS JUST TOO GOOD TO PASS UP 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Word Count: 4,377

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal and you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee Whiskey, but something happened. I heard him laughing. I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent.

When Y/n had been invited to the British Grand Prix, she was as excited as she could be. She wasn’t really educated when it came to F1, seeing as she had only heard of it twice in all her life. Nonetheless, it was a girls trip with her best friends, Paige and Lily, so she was eager to go anyway.

However, as she stood in the middle of the Paddock with coffee down her shirt and jeans, her views on the sport turned sour. The moment had transpired in seconds as she hurriedly walked down the street with her friends to get to their suite. She had heard a group of men laughing, one of the laughs standing out as more of a cackle, before her shoulder was crashing into another’s and hot liquid was seeping into her clothes.

“Shit!” The clothes clung to her, burning her body completely. Her eyes snapped up to be met with the chin of a man wearing orange, her gaze moving up to be met with dimples that were disappearing rapidly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His British accent bled into his voice as he frantically gave her a once over, assessing for damage.

She would have been more mad if she hadn’t found him so attractive. His tan skin and muscular body only lessened the fuel in her fire as she listened to his charming british accent.

“I can pay for the clothes.” He said once more, sounding as if he was trying to grab her attention.

Her eyes met his, “Um, no, it’s okay.” She pulled at the clothes, shifting uncomfortably under the still scalding temperature.

“Here, my teammate’s girlfriend probably has something you can change into. I can take you to her if that works?” He asked timidly, gesturing around like she was near.

Y/n tilted her head, “Your teammate?”

She really had no knowledge of the sport. She assumed each brand had one driver because, in her mind, why would they need more?

The man chuckled as her American accent dawned on him and he realized she had no clue who he was, “Yeah, you can bring your friends if you want?” He tried once more, looking behind her.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, her friends’ mouths gaping open as they quickly nodded their heads for them to go with him, “Okay, that works.”

—

Lily held up a pair of blue jeans and a black bodycon shirt with a smile, “Try these on?”

Y/n smiled timidly, her friends were seemingly freaking out over the people in the room, but she didn’t understand why, “Thank you.”

Thankfully, the clothes fit her well, hugging her waist and doing wonders for the curves of her body. Stepping out of the bathroom and back into the room, she found Paige, Lily, and Teammate’s Lily as well as the man she had come to know, Lando.

“Better?” He asked as he walked up to her with an apologetic smile.

She returned it, “Yeah, a lot.”

They continued looking at each other for a few moments before Paige was clearing her throat and the two were separating. As the three girls grouped together, moving out of the room and toward the exit, Lando’s loud voice flooded their ear drums.

“Y/n! Wait!” His accent yelled as he ran over to them. Catching his breath with his phone in hand, he looked at Y/n with a toothy grin, “Let me take you out to dinner as an apology?”

The two girls beside her gasped as she nodded and put her number in his phone.

–

They say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives. Ya know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you.

If you had told the y/h/c haired girl that day on the Paddock that the man who had spilled caffeine on her was successful and talented Lando Norris, driver for Mclaren, she would have laughed in your face. After multiple dates together and Lando feeling guilty at her still clueless self, he informed her of his rather rare occupation. She had been taken aback, not seeing him as some famous celebrity who had girls falling at his feet. He was so down to Earth and nice, even when she knew, she didn’t believe it.

It was around 5 months into the relationship when he asked her to come visit him on his vacation to London, telling her he wanted to show her around his hometown. Over the phone, she had asked him if this was his way of asking her to meet his family and she could hear the shy smile in his voice as he said, “What would you say if I said ‘yes’?”

With a smile on her face, she had excitedly told him to tell her when and she’d be there. Bags in hand at 4 AM, she had said goodbye to her best friends and assured them she would call every night over the next 2 weeks to fill them in on her “whirlwind romance with a celeb”. Their words, not hers.

To say she was giddy when her eyes met him from across Heathrow was an understatement. The way his glasses, baseball cap, and face mask failed to hide his smiling face and ecstatic demeanor warmed her heart. Instead of running over to him like she knew the both of them wanted, she walked cooly in his direction, not wanting to draw any attention to him and the relationship they were trying to keep under wraps. Upon reaching him, his arms wrapped around her middle, his face burying in her neck and inhaling the scent he had missed so much, as the two whispered words of longing and love in the other’s ear.

When he pulled back and his eyes landed on her smile, he tilted his head and gazed at the feature on her face he had grown to adore so much.

“Lando,” She giggled as her eyes clocked the way he lingered on her beam. His name on her lips forced him to move his eyes up, meeting hers and sparkling as they took the quiet moment for themselves.

Shining with adoration and yearning, his eyes said way more than he let on, “I missed you, my love.”

—

Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true. Ya know I love a London boy, boy, I fancy you.

“What if they don’t like me? Don’t Europeans, like, hate Americans?” Y/n asked as she clutched onto Lando’s arm, sticking to his side as they grew closer to the restaurant.

He laughed from beside her, but quieted down when he saw the genuine concern on her face. Stopping and taking her face in his hands, he pecked her lips, “Baby, they will love you. Trust me. Just because you’re American doesn’t mean they’ll think you’re annoying before they even meet you.”

Sighing and shrugging off his hold in frustration, she began walking toward their destination, “Do you guys really think people from America are annoying?”

He jogged to catch up with her before taking her hand in his and kissing the knuckles of it, “A lot of them are not as pleasant as you.”

Stepping into the pub, Y/n inched closer to his side, suddenly being hit with double her original amount of nerves. Thankfully, Lando’s arm slid around her shoulders as he steered her toward the back of the establishment. A booth filled with whispering 20-something adults came into view before Lando was pulling her to stand in front of everyone, on full display, something he liked and she didn’t.

“Guys, this is Y/n, my girlfriend.” He smiled as his voice grabbed the attention of what Y/n could only determine were his best friends.

A chorus of “Nice to meet you!” and “We’ve heard so much about you” graced the couple’s ears. Lando ushered for her to scooch into the empty seats saved just for them.

Once settled, the questions began.

Max was the first to jump in, wanting to get to know the girl his best friend hadn’t shut up about for the past few months, “So, are you in uni?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion, “Uni?”

Lando chuckled from beside her and in his best American accent said, “College, baby.”

She laughed at her own stupidity, “Oh, yeah. I forgot you guys call it uni.”

Max shook his head with a smile, “No problem.”

“But, anyway, yes, I am in college.” She smiled and nodded as Lando’s friends hung onto her every word, something he was sure would happen.

“Oh, cool, what are you studying?” Ria entered the conversation, leaning over the table to greet the, now, only other girl in the group.

“Psychology. I want to become a therapist.” Y/n’s face lit up at the mention of her passion and Lando gazed upon her like she had just told him he would be World Champion next year.

The table’s eyes bulged, “Don’t you have to go through a lot of schooling for that?” Maz inquired.

“Yeah! But, it’s okay. I’ve always liked learning.” She smiled back.

Max’s jaw dropped as he laughed and let out a breath, “How are you putting up with his stupid ass then?”

The group, including Y/n and Lando, threw their heads back in laughter as Lando tried to act annoyed, “Mate, don’t scare her away just yet.”

She put her hand on his bicep and rubbed softly, “Lan, if I was scared, I would have been gone already.”

He kissed her cheek quickly with blushing cheeks as Ria, Aarav, and Niran observed a lovesick Lando. Leaning over Aarav spoke to both Ria and Niran, “Why does he look happy?”

Niran giggled as Ria rolled her eyes, “Because he’s in love, dumbass.”

From across the table, Y/n tried to partake in a conversation between Lando, Max, and Steve, but the moment Ria’s comment met Y/n’s ears, she was done for.

Looking at the man who was crowding her space to hear his friends better, she wondered if he did, in fact, love her the way she loved him.

—

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride, “Babes, don’t threaten me with a good time”. They say home is where the heart is, but God, I love the English.

Throwing themselves into the cab, Lando and Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief. Glancing out the window and being met with the aggressive downpour that was overwhelming London, Y/n listened to her boyfriend rattle off his address to the driver.

Sitting back, he let his head fall on the seat behind him as it lulled to the side, capturing his girlfriend’s unexplainable beauty.

He smiled before tugging on her hand, making her turn her attention away from the water droplets and to the man who was as soaked, if not more, then she was, “How long do you think it will take us to get back?”

He glanced outside, “The traffic’s really bad…” He trailed off as he wondered, “Probably around 20 minutes?”

“Mmm,” She leaned into his side, not at all caring for the way his drenched clothes stuck to her own.

His head fell on top of hers as they breathed together for a moment. His mind wandered to that morning and how he had been woken up by Max calling him.

–

Lando had shut off the ringer the second it blared loudly and thankfully, he hadn’t disturbed your sleeping form as he got out of the warm, soft cocoon to answer.

“Hello? Why are you calling me so early?” His groggy voice greeted his best friend on the other end of the line as he shut the door to the bedroom and walked out to the kitchen.

Max laughed, “Mate! It’s literally 12 PM. What were you up to last night?” His suggestive tone had Lando’s mind flashing back to the rather intimate activities that had taken place hours before.

“None of your business,” He bit out, “What do you need?”

“No need to get so hostile on me.” Max said innocently, “Just wanted to ask you if you’ve told Y/n you love her yet?”

Lando choked out a breath before clearing his throat, “I’m sorry- what?”

“Have you guys said that yet?” Max repeated, not understanding why his friend sounded so confused.

While he wanted to deny his love for her, Lando knew he couldn’t, he never could, “No.”

“Well, you should tell her.” Max stated firmly.

Lando’s voice fell quiet, “But, what if she isn’t there yet?”

Max loudly laughed, “Oh, man! It’s crazy how you bagged someone intelligent.” Lando cringed as Max continued, “She clearly feels the same way.”

Lando’s heart soared, “You think?”

HIs best friend sighed, “Yes, I do. So does Ria, and Niran, and Steve, and Aarav. It’s really obvious, dude.”

Lando’s smile hurt, “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Max chuckled, “I know. That’s why I called you.”

—

His brain thought over the possibility of telling her about his growing feelings as he felt her weight against his side in the back of the dirty cab. It was almost as if she heard his thoughts as she moved her head off his shoulder to stare up at him, silently begging him to say it.

Whether it was in his head or not, he fulfilled the wish he was convinced she was pleading with him to make reality, “I love you.” He whispered.

Their faces inches apart, Lando watched as Y/n’s face gleamed and her smile grew, “I love you too.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief when she moved to kiss him. His hands in her hair and no regard for the driver in front of them, he kissed her like he was crazily, stupidly, and wholly in love with her.

Because he was.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you, wanna be with you. You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking’ SoHo, drinking in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you. Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true.

“Darling, are you ready?” Lando’s voice flooded through his apartment.

As he rounded the corner of the hallway, she was popping out of the bedroom clad in jeans and a sweater, prepared for the crisp and cold London air. Catching his gaze, she jokingly twirled around as she muttered, “This good to meet your family?”

Closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her forehead, “Perfect. You look perfect, baby.”

With crimson red cheeks, the two of them left his building and made their way to his parent’s house minutes away.

“For some reason, I’m not as nervous to meet them as I was to meet your friends.” Her eyebrows contorted as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Maybe that’s because I’m their son and you love me. Ya know, the whole ‘Apple doesn’t fall far from the tre-’” He was interrupted by two giggling girls stopping to stand directly in front of them.

One of them gently shoved her phone in between them, “Can we take a picture?”

Y/n watched as Lando’s eyes softened before he was grabbing her phone and lightly turning her way to ask her to take it. Shaking her head with a smile, she grabbed it and positioned them in the frame, “Okay, 1…2…3,” She mumbled before taking multiple and handing it back to the girls that couldn’t be over 16, “I took a couple.”

Nodding, the other one’s eyes drifted between Lando and Y/n before cocking her head to the side.

“Wait, were those dating rumors true? Is this your girlfriend?” Her eyes grew wide in realization as Lando blushed and pulled Y/n into him.

Glancing down at her y/e/c eyes, he nodded, “Yeah, this is her.”

Gasping, the fans excitedly told the two how pretty they thought Y/n was before thanking each of them and running off.

Resuming their steps, Y/n giggled, “They had a crush on you. It was so cute.”

He laughed from beside her before kissing her temple, “Maybe, but I have a crush on you.”

—

“Okay, I take it back. I’m going to throw up.” Y/n’s face paled as Lando’s fist rapped against the wooden door.

“You said the same thing with my friends, baby, and they loved you. I’m telling you it will be the same with my family.” He tried to calm and reassure.

Thankfully, there was no room for disagreeing because his mom was opening the door and smiling widely at her son and his infamous new girlfriend.

“Lando!” She exclaimed before throwing her arms around her child.

“Hi, mum,” He laughed as he squeezed her tightly. Moving away and turning her head, Cisca beamed.

“Oh, you are so gorgeous! Tell me my son is treating you right?” She laughed before sending Y/n the sweetest smile the girl had ever received.

“Oh, he is, Mrs. Norris. Don’t worry.” Y/n assured as the woman pulled her into a hug as well.

“It’s Cisca to you.” Y/n could hear the warming smile in her voice before she was being led inside.

Walking into the house, Y/n’s noticed the immediate warmth that surrounded every furniture piece and person. It was a bit of a shocker and adjustment when she found out just how close Lando was to his family. Growing up, she hadn’t had that with her family as her parents didn’t have a good relationship and were constantly fighting while her siblings tried to calm both adults. It was traumatic, to put it simply, and after Lando had picked up on her confusion when he said he was going to meet his mom for lunch earlier in their relationship, he made a mental note to ask her about it later. When he did, she had had no choice, but to tell him her childhood, or lack thereof. He was quite surprised when he found out his bubbly, sweet girlfriend had come from such a toxic, violent household, but he didn’t voice that as he comforted her and apologized for something that wasn’t even his fault. Long story short, even though she had come to understand his relationship with his family, it was still a bit weird to her how much love there was to go around.

Coming up beside her, Lando’s hand rested on the bottom of her back as he whispered in her ear, ���How are you doing?”

He could only assume how saddening this could be for her after countless words spoken with her over how angry she had been as a teenager at her parents for not providing with some sort of normal home life.

However, she just smiled up at him, laying a kiss on his cheek before whispering back, “I’ll be okay.”

He nodded and before he could lean in to meet her lips with his, Flo was appearing before them.

She beamed at the couple, “Hi! You must be Y/n. I’m Flo, Lando’s sister. He talks about you all the time.”

Her comforting tone gave Y/n the confidence to respond with, “Oh? I hope all good things?”

Lando chuckled as his hand squeezed her hip as his sister exposed him completely, “Oh, very good things. I’m serious, he actually never shuts up about you. I would be annoyed with him if he wasn’t so clearly happy.”

Y/n sent a smile to Lando’s sister before turning her head to gaze up at her boyfriend, realizing how much of a home she had found within him.

Soon enough, the rest of Lando’s siblings joined their sister, conversing with his American girlfriend like they had known her their whole life.

“So, you’re studying psychology to become a therapist, I hear?” Oliver inquired as Lando began to nod his head, a proud boyfriend.

She nodded along with him, “Yes, I’m graduating college this year and then I’ll move onto grad school to get my masters.”

Flo’s eyes widened, “Wow, do you know where you’re going?”

Lando blurted it out before Y/n could, he just couldn’t help how much he wanted to brag about her intelligence, “She’s going to Yale!”

All three siblings’ jaws fell open as Y/n laughed at her boyfriend’s eagerness, “Yale. I’m going to Yale. Thanks, babe.”

He smiled sheepishly down at her as he muttered a sorry to which she shook her head, not mad at all.

The conversation took off from there, continuing on while all of them sat at the dinner table, only then did the parents join in. Everyone was enthralled by Y/n, captured by her charm and smile, falling victim to all the same things Lando had. He wanted to take a picture, at that moment, as he gazed upon the girl who was very quickly earning the title of “Love of my Life” and how she clicked perfectly with everyone else he loved immensely.

As the night went on, leading into the darkness of midnight, Lando found himself in his old backyard, alone, as he watched Y/n in a very committed conversation with his sisters about Taylor Swift.

He wasn’t aware how long Oliver had sat next to him, only being aware of his presence when his brother said, “I think she’s it.”

Shaking his head, he frowned at his brother, “What?”

Oliver smiled down at his younger brother, remembering his own lovestruck days, “I think she’s it. I think you’ve found the one, Lando.”

To say he was blushing would have been an understatement, Lando was blood red in the cheeks, the neck, the ears, everywhere. His smile spoke volumes to his brother as he took a moment before responding, “I think so too.”

“How’d you two meet again?” Oliver had heard the story once, on the day it happened, but never again after that.

Once again, Lando’s smile hurt, “We met on the paddock at Silverstone. She was with her friends and we were both distracted, so we ran into each other and I literally spilled my coffee down her entire front. Thankfully, she was really sweet about it which didn’t help the fact that I was already in love with her. But, anyways, I remember I got to look at her first. She was looking down at her clothes while I was just staring at her. I seriously think I have never been that gobsmacked by someone’s beauty before. I almost couldn’t speak when she actually made eye contact with me. I offered to pay for her clothes, but then I realized that that would mean I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to her again, so I told her Lily would have something extra. I actually had no clue if Lily had extra clothes, I really didn’t expect her to because who the hell brings extra clothes to an event? But, I knew it would give me at least 20 more minutes with her, so I ran with it. Fortunately, Lily did have extra clothes, something I was incredibly confused by, and when Y/n was finished changing, she walked out without my number. I had been so nervous to ask her, but Lily yelled at me the second the door closed to get off my ass and go get a date with her, so I did. Thank God, I did, man.”

Oliver hung on to his brother’s every word, observing the twinkle in Lando’s eyes when the three girls across the yard would laugh at something Y/n had said. Even if he had never met Y/n, Oliver was sure he would’ve gotten the memo on how in love Lando was with her just by how highly, how affectionately he talked about her. I mean, it was actually partially true. Going into the dinner, everyone in the family was aware of how love drunk Lando was with this girl he had been dating. From the moment he had called them, detailing how he had just met this girl who had absolutely stolen his attention, the family had made bets on the fact this relationship would last a lifetime.

Even now, as he watched Lando wander over to his girlfriend like a lost puppy, Oliver was sure it would.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you. I fancy you, fancy you, oh.

“Baby! Guess what 5 years ago today was!” Lando’s voice yelled throughout their flat in Monaco as he wandered aimlessly, trying to find his fiancé.

He found Y/n in the kitchen, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows as her hip rested against the countertop, “What?”

Pulling her into his arms and showing her his phone, he smiled, “You met my parents, love. 5 years ago today.”

She laughed as she looked at the screen, only to find a picture of her, asleep in Lando’s car at time with the caption, ‘slumped after meeting the fam’

“God, that’s a really horrendous picture of me.” She replied as Lando immediately tugged on the hem of her shirt with a scowl, “What? No, it’s not! You always look so cute when you’re asleep.”

She over exaggerated a nod before he pinched her side, her yelping in response.

“Isn’t it good I think you’re cute when you’re asleep?” He smiled cheekily, “I mean, we are getting married,” His fingers toyed with the ring on her finger, “so, I’ll be waking up to you like that every day for the rest of our lives.”

She smiled as he kissed her, breathing her in, “When you put it that way, it’s not too bad.”

[felassan]

New article from IGN: 'How Dragon Age: The Veilguard Used Lessons From The Sims to Craft Its Character Creator and More'

Inside the intricate systems that bring BioWare's RPG to life.

"Corinne Busche wasn’t looking for a job when she sat down for lunch with BioWare’s leadership team in 2019. She had been a fan of BioWare’s games since the days of Dragon Age: Origins, and she wanted to, in her words, “meet my heroes.” “So I went to lunch with a couple of folks in the leadership team at BioWare, and we started riffing about progression systems and skill trees and economies, and we just really resonated with one another,” Busche remembers. “And much to my surprise, they expressed an interest in me joining, and it was kind of the question you don't have to ask me twice. That was such a dream opportunity, and to be able to step in this space, visit the studio, see my favorite characters on display throughout the walls, I was immediately sold. Immediately.” Busche was coming off a stint at Maxis, where she helped design the systems on various The Sims projects. In taking the helm of Dragon Age: The Veilguard, she became part of a wider talent pipeline flowing from Maxis to other parts of the games industry. It’s a pipeline that includes the likes of Eric Holmberg-Weidler, who was credited with fine-tuning many of the systems that comprised The Sims 4 before spearheading the Professions revamp in World of Warcraft’s Dragonflight expansion. Justin Camden, who also worked on The Sims, is one of Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s technical designers."

"Systematic discovery At first blush, it might not seem like The Sims has much in common with an RPG like Dragon Age outside the fact that they both feature romance in some way. Going back to its release in 2000, The Sims has garnered a reputation as a casual, frequently silly lifestyle simulator; the game where you remove a ladder from a swimming pool and watch your poor little Sims drown. Under the hood, though, The Sims is a complex web of systems, progression and relationships. Sims have jobs. They gain skills. They fall in love. “Maxis is a great place for designers to hone their skills,” Busche says. “There are many projects across differing platforms and service models happening simultaneously which give a rare opportunity for a breadth of experience. What people may not realize about the Sims, given its playful outward nature, is the underlying systems and mechanics are deceptively deep – especially as a dev. One of the more interesting parts of coming up through Maxis as a designer is the experience you get with simulation, emergent gameplay, and emotionally relatable player experiences. It’s just a really unique opportunity being a part of these teams, and those are skillsets that can benefit a number of different games and genres.” Busche’s systems design background is evident throughout The Veilguard. It includes extensive skill trees, with sub-classes that are geared around different weapon types and styles of play, and the choices you make also resonate deeply throughout the story. It’s also possible to level up your relationship with individual factions and shopkeepers, which in turn opens up new possibilities for acquiring unique gear, and characters bear long-lasting scars depending on the choices you make. Systems are layered throughout Dragon Age, deepening the player’s intertwined connection with the world and the characters that inhabit it. “What's so wonderful about [The Sims] is there's so much autonomy in that game, and we find that RPG players are hungry for that same sense of autonomy, making decisions, influencing characters. And what you might not realize in the Sims is behind the scenes, there are some really robust progression systems, game economies, character behaviors for their own AI and autonomy… a lot of really fascinating parallels,” Busche says. “So in that regard, I'm very grateful to my time there, being able to take some of those learnings, whether it's about how to convey romantic progression to the player, or design skill progression, game pacing, a lot of really interesting transferable ideas that you might not think about on the surface." In The Sims, characters go through their daily lives in an idealized world filled with strange but charming characters like Bonehilda (Dragon Age, it should be mentioned, has its own living skeleton in Manfred). While Dragon Age’s characters are still bound by the demands of the story, BioWare goes out of its way to make them seem more alive. As we talk about in our hands-on preview that went up last week, Dragon Age is filled with little messages noting how, for instance, you “traded verbal jabs” with Solas. As we’ll go into in a future article, both platonic and romantic relationships are a big part of how characters grow in Dragon Age. And of course, as anyone who has played a BioWare or Sims game knows, both games have their share of woohooing."

"How Dragon Age learned from The Sims' character creator Ultimately, though, it’s the character creator where the resemblance between the two is the most apparent. Dragon Age’s character creator is extensive, allowing players to adjust physical characteristics including chest size, the crookedness of a character’s nose, and whether or not their eyes are bloodshot, among other features. While custom characters are a time-honored BioWare tradition going back to the days of Baldur’s Gate, The Veilguard draws from the lessons of The Sims in everything from body customization to the flow of the user interface. Cross-pollination like this is common within EA, and Dragon Age: The Veilguard borrows from plenty of other sources as well. That incredible hair technology, for example, got its start within EA’s sports games, meaning your Rook can have a luscious mane like Lionel Messi. But the character creator is perhaps the greatest inflection point between Dragon Age and The Sims. “Character creators are extremely complex, and in many ways even more personal. It’s so important that players feel they can be represented and feel pride in that representation as they go through the creation process,” Busche says. “In particular, I remember we were struggling with some of our iconography, and we turned to each other and said ‘how did The Sims 4 handle this?’ While the technology and UI is quite a bit different, the underlying goals and lessons were quite similar.” She adds that Maxis has a “tremendous wealth of knowledge when it comes to representing gender, identity, and the surprising number of localization issues that come along with that when you’re releasing in different regions and languages.” “It’s always nice when you can draw from that prior experience. See what worked, what didn’t, and how expectations have evolved. The fun part is now we get to pay that forward and have been sharing our knowledge with other teams,” Busche says. On a moment-to-moment basis, of course, The Sims and Dragon Age are two very different games with very different goals. One is a single-player action RPG, the other a lifestyle sim. As studios, too, BioWare and Maxis are in very different places right now. The Sims has been a powerhouse franchise for more than two decades, and EA is seeking to expand its reach with a new movie. BioWare, meanwhile, is seeking to rebuild after stumbling badly with Anthem and Mass Effect Andromeda. But when creator Will Wright first decided to focus on the people inhabiting his games, the world he crafted wasn’t too dissimilar from the one found in Dragon Age. Both use unique systems to create reactive, imaginative worlds full of interesting choices, filled with characters with their own inner lives. It’s a philosophy that’s always been part of BioWare’s legacy; now, in The Veilguard, it finally gets to be on full display once again. Dragon Age: The Veilguard will be on PC, PlayStation, and Xbox on October 31. Make sure to keep an eye on IGN all this month as our IGN First coverage continues."

[source]

[jade-bright]

At some point in my teen wolf au???

*new teen pack meet og teen pack*

Lydia: What is the worst thing you've ever experienced?

Stiles, family trauma, lost his spark back in high school, not being able to save the Hales, all the shit that happened in the show (or what he's dubbed, The Shit Show™): ...

Derek, blames himself for Stiles and Paige getting the bite and the Hales deaths (including Laura & Peter), The Shit Show™: ...

Jordan, having recovered his memories of being Camden Lahey after discovering he's a hellhound, remembers the abuse he went thru at the hands of his father and was a soldier in the military: ...

Heather, blinded after her failed attempt at a strong necromancer spell, watched her crush?/gf? die, became permanently blind (that no magic can heal) after bringing back Paige, The Shit Show™: ...

Paige: ...

Paige: Mr. Harris

Scott: What?

Paige, Heather, Stiles, Derek, Jordan (Camden): ...

Heather, Stiles, Derek, Jordan (Camden): Same

inspo x

[vhstown]

'til the breath returns

— hobie brown x gn!reader (dissociation comfort)

summary: It's hard to stay in your own body sometimes. At least Hobie's right there with you.

warnings: v self-indulgent (so may not be a very accurate depiction of dissociation erm...), dissociation / derealisation / depersonalisation (those terms are distinct but just in case :p), anxious behaviour, hurt/comfort-ish, hobie is trying his best? (he's not ur therapist but it's okay) & not proofread

word count: 1.9k

a/n: been struggling to get out of a dp/dr funk recently so. here we are! no gif lemme keep this one on the down-low fr 😭 img is of camden town from pinterest

🕸️📞🎸

"Hello? Hello...?"

The muscles in your shoulders tightened at the sound of the voice, obscurely louder than anything else around you — around you being the market, that was. Just how long had you been here?

You felt a burning ache in your eyes as you looked around, taking in the blur around you before meeting the expression of the man in front of you. The owner of the food truck, of course. He had an impatient look on his face, but it was too much detail to be anxious about.

"Sorry, uh..." you offered quietly, cut off by another loud voice behind you.

"Just hurry up and pay, mate! We haven't got all day!"

Your jaw tensed, crunching uncomfortably as you fumbled for something in your pockets. Trying to find cash of some sort, the world became still again, and you could barely register what they were saying before you put whatever you could find on the window sill of the truck.

Something that sounded unpleasant, another shout, maybe, followed behind you as you walked out into the open pavements of the market. Your hands felt funny, breath dry and head heavy and so light at the same time. It felt like you were floating, but also sinking so deep under water you were moving slow motion against the thick water. It was somewhat comforting, that image.

Maybe you should just sit down, let yourself fall backwards and sink. Maybe you'd wake up in bed, and fully be able to open your own eyes again. When was the last time you could do that? When was the last time you woke up? This morning, surely. It seemed so far away; maybe you should walk home, find home — it was somewhere near here. Where were you walking?

Why was the ground getting so close to your face—

"Hey, hey! Oi!"

Before your weight could fall forward anymore, you felt a hand move around your stomach. Tongue stinging too, you realise you'd bitten it. The urgent touch became more gentle, as the haste wore off and you were helped to your feet. You tried to pick up the sounds to form a "thank you", but all you could do was stare strangely as you met a face you could just about recognise.

"Don't mean to scare you, darling."

It was your boyfriend, is what you told yourself. Hobie.

"Didn't get your change..." He held out the coins in his hand, some of which were probably already yours . "And you're trippin' over yourself."

It would sound too weird if you tried to laugh, so you didn't bother.

"My bad, just out of it." Right, is what he must've thought.

"Been out of it for a while, huh?" He taps your cheek twice, bringing your attention to him. You hadn't realised you'd been staring dead straight into his chest — not anywhere near his face. "Your patty's all squashed, love."

His fingers moved gently between yours, prying the poor warm paper from your hand. The patty you had bought had started to singe the tips of your fingers, and the tips of your fingers had already broken apart the bread of the patty.

You didn't have much will to complain, but the corners of Hobie's mouth turned down in a frown. He took your hand, the pad of histhumb brushing the lingering heat off of your fingers

"What's going on? You hungry? Tired? Upset...?" All you could give him was a useless shrug — it'd probably be easier to fix if you could describe it; if only. "Hm..."

The back of his hand was cold against your forehead. Or maybe you were cold; he never really got cold after all.

"You wanna go home?"

"Hm?" you murmured, Hobie observing you. You weren't supposed to go home; you'd get over it. Fresh air and a walk was supposed to help, anyway — not like it was. "Thought you wanted to stay."

"We can always come back another time. You don't look like you're enjoying yourself."

His hand moved to your shoulder, brushing his lips over your forehead. It was definitely you that was cold.

"I think you should have my patty, too," he added, placing his in your hand.

Arm moving fully around your shoulder, the two of you started to walk back.

"It'll be warm out, soon," Hobie comments, as if trying to be inconspicuous. He pulls you closer to mams for a lady walking her dogs: little white lap dogs that turned their heads to look at you, or maybe Hobie. You tried to remember if the last time you saw them was today or last week.

"Ah, yeah..." you said, realising he was waiting for you to say something — something of more substance, probably.

"Sure bloody hope so," he continued, something like humour in his voice. "Been freezing my bum off for the past month."

Your steps felt big against the ground, like the ground was pushing back up, and you were going to float away if Hobie let you go. All you could do was just hope he didn't.

"It better not rain, though. I'll go mad if it does. Nothing's good in the rain, 'specially not food. Meant to have a street party soon."

Remembering the patty in your hand, you took a bite before Hobie had to remind you. It was veg — not beef like he'd usually have. In fact, he complained about the veg usually. Still, today, he'd wanted a veg patty. You held onto that fact like it was the first thing you'd ever been told, as you walked together.

As he continued talking, you had reached the riverside. It looked onwards to the canal, the water coloured by the orange sun. Everything always looked so different on the way back; the air was still, and it was evening by now.

"Mine or yours?" Hobie asks, as you reach the by-street.

"Mine, if you come with me."

"I ain't gonna leave you behind, or nothin'."

He cracks a smile, and you reach for his hand time time as you took the turn to your home. There were shops that passed by, but you didn't pay enough attention to figure out what they were.

And you weren't sure when you ended up in bed, probably after making conversation for a bit and changing, because you were now in your own bed, arms and legs and Hobie's chest encasing you in a relaxed hug. You were wearing a shirt that fit weirdly on you. It was likely his — the one shirt he had without lint on it. His head wasn't entirely on your shoulder, but he was close enough to press a kiss to your temple — it left a warm, tingling feeling, as did the rest of his weight against you.

"Is there something wrong specifically?" he asks, voice a quiet, smooth vibration next to you.

"Dunno, I just... feel weird. Mentally, I mean," you admit, turning your head to lean it against his. "I think this is helping, though."

"Yeah? You want me to do anything else?" You just wanted to keep yourself awake; you wanted to keep hearing his voice.

"Want to hear you talk more."

"As long as you talk as well." Your quiet sigh was audible enough to him, it seemed. "C'mon love, you've gotta talk, or you'll be stuck up there forever."

With your demeanor seeming to give up with you, he pressed another kiss to your face, near the corner of your mouth this time. It usually got a smile out of you, but you didn't know if you had the energy to. He lingered there, still.

"How about we start with right now?" he muttered, hand on your shoulder. "You gonna tell me about those new decorations in your room? Or all those new clothes in your closet? Or how your bathroom doesn't have the nice-tasting toothpaste anymore?"

"Hobie... What the hell..." You frowned. And then the smallest laugh escaped out of you, because you frowned, and then he laughed, because it was all he really needed.

"I'm serious, though. Let's start from the top?"

"Like... from when I was born?" That got a laugh out of him, thankfully. Your smile, though little, didn't seem to disappear just yet.

"Well, if you want," he replied, pulling his arms tighter around your sides. "I was thinking more like, this morning?"

This morning... A little worry creeped inside your stomach as you came to face how little you could really recount right now. The light brush of Hobie's thumb against your cheek kept you at bay, however, and you took in a deep breath.

"Well, today... we went to the market together," you started, taking his hand from your shoulder and holding it in your own. You toyed idly with his fingers, thumb brushing over his rings as your mind fell into blankness again.

"And it rained all morning," Hobie said, after a beat of silence, fingers gently squeezing yours.

"And... this little kid slipped in the mud," you murmured.

"Ah, he did. Rough, weren't it?"

"Mhm," you replied, and at the silence, you tried to continue. "Poor thing. His dad looked horrified."

The quiet chuckle against your back made your words seem somewhat more trustworthy, and you finally decided to just let yourself speak, about anything that came to mind.

"...And then we went to look at clothes. None of them were your size."

"Couldn't believe it..." Hobie commented, murmuring.

"And then we... got lost for a bit. Ended up in this shop that sold china."

"Oh yeah, there were those funny bird-lookin' ones."

"And then we walked around for a bit..."

Truthfully, he wasn't sure if it was actually helping or not, but at the very least, that fuzzy look in your eyes that scared him a bit had eased

"And now we're home," you concluded, and he kissed the side of your head as if to confirm.

"Yep. Where are we?" The question was pretty straightforward, but you took the chance to answer regardless.

"In my room... On my bed." The mattress creaked just a little as you readjusted your position, moving closer against him. "And I'm still with you."

"Uh-huh. Still here."

"It's getting dark out, though." Looking out at the dimming sky through your window, you took another breath in, not as deep as you would've liked.

"I can stay," Hobie reassured. His voice gave no reason for you to doubt it.

"Could you?"

"A hundred percent. Not a second I don't wanna spend with you."

Hobie brushed his nose against yours, before pressing a momentary kiss to your lips.

"Look," he started, voice low and soft, slightly more serious. "I'm not exactly sure how to help, but whatever you need, I'll be here."

Turning to face him again, you returned his kiss, holding it a little longer to feel the warmth of his lips against yours. Hobie held you like you were the world, and everything in it; if you didn't need to, at least you wanted to.

"Can we just keep talking?" Your voice sounded different, but not strange — a bit less tense, more certain.

"We can talk about anything you want; we've got all night."

You narrowed your eyes in thought for a moment, and he looked at you as if he already knew what you were thinking.

"...Could you scratch my back too?"

Hobie grinned, and so warmly — so easily. You felt a smile tug at your lips too, breath sinking back into your chest and the ever-present weight starting to lift from your body.

"Yeah, sweetheart — of course. Want me to switch the light off?"

You decided to nod, saving your words for when you finally laid in the darkness, curled up against him. Murmuring soft, yet sure words between each other, his fingers grazed your back in a gentle back-and-forth, and as your voice faded, he pressed another kiss to your forehead, pulling you further into him and the covers.

Breath quiet and even, you inevitably drifted into sleep. His hand was still on your back, feeling each breath of yours as it came and went, like the shore lapping against the land. And he'd breathe right with you, even when you couldn't hear him — even if he'd have to do it all over again tomorrow.

Always, he promised himself, and you. Always, until your breath returned — until you returned.

🕸️📞🎸

thank you for reading urrrr never written a comfort fic before n ik this is kind of diff but hopefully some of my usual stuff soon 🙏

rbs appreciated if u liked it, atsv masterlist here!

@phoenixinthefiles @qiupachups

[imaginesforeveryone]

Fucking Peaky Blinders ( Part 2)

Pairing: Alfie x Y/N Warning: Angst, violence, flirting, smut Summary: You were a peaky blinder, involved in the alliance with Alfie of Camden Town. You as one of Tommy’s most trusted were left in Camden town while work needed to be done.

“Fucking Peaky Blinders!” You heard Alfie yelling from his office, while you stood watching all the men work, making sure nothing happened. 

“Y/N!!” You heard your name being yelled by Alfie from the office behind you. You rolled your eyes, turned around and opened the door behind you. 

“Yes, Alfie.” You said with annoyance in your voice.

“Sorry for inconveniencing you princess.” He said with sarcasm in his voice and throwing his hands up and crossing them over his stomach and leaning back in his seat. 

“Alfie, you know why I am here, I’m not here to be at you beck and call when you need me to do something for you. I’m here to make sure my men run right and you don’t pull your shit.” You said walking to his desk, and grabbing a cigarette. 

“Oh love, I don’t need you for my own good. I need you to fucking get your men to get away from the jewish women, before I make ‘em get away. I don’t want any bad blood, ey?” He says sitting up to look at you.

“Where is he?” You sighed heavily.

“Don’t worry about it love, I’m sure her husband took care of it.” He said leaning back with a grin. 

“So, if it’s handled then why call me in here?” You asked crossing your arms with a sigh.

“I have a question for you.” He spoke motioning for you to sit. Of course you stayed standing. 

“Would you like to have whiskey or rum with me tonight?” He asked looking at you stroking his beard. You giggled to yourself slightly. 

“What’s funny? Ey?” He asked. 

“Alfie, Alfie, Alfie. I know your words, I know what the things you say mean.” You said walking over to him. Rounding the desk and sitting in front of him on the desk. 

“What would it be Alfie? Rum or Whiskey?” You asked leaning forwards closer to him. 

“ I guess we’ll see where it takes us, love. Wont we?” He said standing now towering over you, and his bulky body almost engulfing you. 

“I guess so.” You said standing, and walking away out the door. Smiling to yourself about what just happened in there. You had no intention of coming here to fall in love. But a fuck here and there wouldn’t be bad. If it so happened to be the king of Camden town. The man who did business with Thomas Shelby. Your boss. 

Later that night, you sat in the house Alfie set up for you to stay in while you were here on business. You sipped the whiskey that you poured and read through some paper work that needed to be done by tomorrow evening and music playing from across the room. Hearing a slight knock on the door, you stood, feeling the effects of the whiskey you drank. Walking to the door and opening it slowly with you hand on your gun. But, it was a tall man, wore a black hat, and black jacket. It was Alfie. 

“Come on in.” You told him opening the door wider. Shutting it after he entered the house. You wore your black, silk nightgown, with a silk robe over it. Walking into the kitchen where Alfie was pouring drinks. 

“So, Mr. Solomons. How’s business? Do you need anything from me?” You asked starting small talk with him. 

“Oh, Y/N. Tonight is not for business. I want to know you. Thomas Shelby’s most trusted. Over his own brothers.” He spoke handing you a glass with liquid in it. 

“Oh, Alfie, it’s not that he doesn’t trust his brothers, he just believes that a women, in Camden town, with a name of mine can really put men in check.” You spoke explaining to him and taking a sip from your cup, quickly realizing it was rum, making a grin spread across your face. 

“So this really isn’t about business. This is no whiskey, it is rum.” You said looking at him bringing the glass to you lips once more. 

“Well, Y/N, you must know more about me than I thought you did.” He said standing and taking his jacket, and hat off revealing his tattooed thick arms. 

“Whiskey is for business. Rum is for pleasure.” You said to him quoting words that he has spoke to Tommy once before. You stood from your seat, and dropped your robe. Walking around Alfie, and laying your hands on his thick shoulders. 

“So tell me Mr. Solomons. Is this pleasure of the business type, or is this pleasure of the body type of rum?” You asked rubbing your thumbs into his shoulders causing a slight grunt to exit his mouth not answering the question you asked him. 

“You’re very tense Mr. Solomons. Would you like for me to run you a bath?” You asked still massaging into his back. As quickly as the rum heated your insides, was as quickly as Alfie had you up against the fridge that was behind you. 

“Body please then? ey?” You asked him as he had his big hand around your throat and his other held you tight against the fridge. 

“Love, I’m going to make you feel pleasure and pain on and in your body. So, be ready.” He said as he stared deep into you eyes.

“Do your worst Mr. Solomons.” You spoke lowly to him. Instantly Alfie attached his lips to your kissing you hard. 

“ALFIE!” You heard someone yell through the door. 

“FUCK OFF!” Alfie yelled back detaching his lips from yours, and moving them your neck, causing a light moan to ring out. 

“Y/N, ALFIE! THEY ARE OFF THEIR ROCKERS!” The voice yelled back again. You sighed out, now having to step away from this. You grabbed your robe putting to back on. Alfie and you going to the door and opening it. 

“The peaky boys and our men got drunk together and decided to have bets on fights between them.” Ollie explained as you opened the door. 

“Fuck.” You whispered, grabbing your shoes and jacket, as Alfie grabbed his jacket and his hat. Walking out and following Ollie as he led you to the men. 

“We’ll finish our business later.” Alfie said walking next to you. Soon hearing the yelling of men. You looked over at Alfie, who’s expression wasn’t to happy. 

“OI!!” Alfie yelled as you turned the corner to see all the men in a circle around two that had been fighting. Them all looking back and seeing you and Alfie walking towards them.

“What the fuck is this? Ey!?” Alfie asked getting into one of his mens faces. As they all stood attention to you two now. 

“Alfie.” You said quietly. 

“We didn’t bring you Peaky Boys in to ruin my workers.” He yelled not hearing your call out to him. 

“ALFIE!” You yelled now grabbing his attention and the attention of the other men. 

“I got this.” You told him walking in front of him and closer to the men. 

“I know it’s boring here. I know it’s not the same as Birmingham. But, we are here for work. Not for sport. As I can see, my boys did good in the sport. But, just because you can beat these men at sport, doesn’t mean you should. So should this happen again, I wont be as nice. May even bring Tommy here to settle all of you.” You spoke loudly so they could all hear you. 

“That it right?” You spoke softly and all the mean shook their heads.

“ Good. Now go.” You said. The men moving slowly, but going. 

“FUCKING GO!” Alfie yelled from behind you. The men scattering quickly now. 

“Ollie, thank you for letting us know. You can go on now.” You said walking to him. 

“Of course Miss.” He said before scurrying away. Looking over at Alfie, and quickly walking to him but passed him in the direction of the house. Hearing the loud footsteps behind you following close. Getting to the house and through the front doors quickly. Alfie grabbing you by your waist and spinning you to look at him. 

“A women that could put fear into men with just a look.” He says as he threw his jacket and hat off. You stood back and watched as he breathed heavily looking at you. As you two made slight eye contact he took one large step to you and grabbing you, and lifting you to wrap your legs around his thick body. Attaching your lips to him as he seemed to be walking in the direction of the stairs, and up you went. 

“If you’d like I could instill fear into you Mr. Solomons.” You said with a giggle through the kiss you held with him. Hearing the door being kicked open and you being thrown like a rag doll onto the bed. Hitting the bed you let out laugh. Sitting up as Alfie came to you with your legs hung over the bed, not able to reach the ground though. You ran your hands up his torso slowly but stopping at the opening of his shirt at the top and tearing it down. Causing Alfie to grunt at you. 

“Fucking, Aye love. that one of my favorite shirts.” He said looking down at you. 

“Oh well.” You said standing with a laugh escaping your lips. You pushed now the ripped shirt off of his shoulders. Revealing his large arms that covered in veins sticking out. His hairy chest stood out and wide. 

“So, Mr. Solomons, what are you going to do about it?” You asked standing on your tip toes trying to get closer to his ears. With that he lifted you again and put you on your back on the bed as he hovered over you.

“Oh you will find out love.” He said before lifting your night gown over your head leaving you completely naked in the hands of Alfie Solomons.

“Then show me.” you said grabbing his face. Looking as if the devil just took over him. He got down on his knee in front of you spreading your legs wide and not letting you even think, he attached his lips to the bud causing you to arch your back up. 

“Nu-uh love. stay.” He said putting hand on your belly to keep you from trying to get away. Moaning out as he went back to business, sucking kissing, even biting at the sensitive bud. 

“Fucking 'el Alfie.” You let out between heavy breathing as you grabbed ahold of his hair trying to get him to do more on you, but he of course can over power you in any physical sense.

“Don’t you cum love. I will tell you when you can.” He spoke looking up at you from between your legs. But, with that you came all over his face. 

“I don’t take order Mr. Solomons. I tell them.” You said sitting up to him. Instantly he took ahold of your neck and stood in front of you, as if you were his prey. You never felt small. Well, you knew you were small physically, but never were treated small. Pushing you up the bed so that now you sat in the middle of it as Alfie was now kneeling on the bed in front of you with nothing on his body. Still a hand on your throat.

“Well, tonight love. You listen to me. This isn’t business. Its pleasure.” He spoke breaking the silence. Picking you up to hover over him as he was still in the kneeling position on the bed. 

“So love. When I say, don’t cum, you done cum. When I say take this big jewish cock in you pretty little pink hole.” He said holding you close to him then letting you fall down onto his dick, and sinking down onto it. 

“You fucking take it.” He said not once losing eye contact with you, and not releasing his ringed hand from your throat. You let out a throaty moan as he entered you. Starting to move your hips back and forth on him. 

“That’s it, love.” He said now releasing your throat. He grunted as you bucked your hips at him. He took your ass cheeks in his hands and helped lift you and slam you down on him. 

“Fucking aye Alfie!” You yelled out. 

“Yeah, you like that love? Because I sure as hell do. Your so tight around me.” He said with a groan.

“Fuck yes Alfie.” You screamed out. 

“You want to cum love?” he said pulling your face down to look at him.

“Yes, Alfie. I want to cum again.” You breathe out. 

“Don’t you cum Y/N.” He said and you decided to listen to him. He stuck two of his fingers into your mouth making you gag just a little. Taking them out as a string of saliva followed. He reached between the two of you as he still pumped into you and started rubbing circles on your very very sensitive clit. 

“Fuck Alfie. Please.” You whispered out. 

“ Now you want to listen love? ey?” He asked attaching his lips to your neck. 

“Yes, Alfie. Yes.” You let out throwing your head back to give him more access to your neck. As he rubbed your clit you felt your walls pulsating around him. 

“Oh fuck love. Just trying to milk me now so you can cum aye?” He asked throwing his head back a bit trying to regain the strength to keep it in. 

“Go ahead love cum all over me.” He said and with that in seconds you were screaming in so much pleasure. 

“Yes, love, fuck I’m going to cum in you.” He spoke out now picking up the pace causing another wave to come over you. Feeling the clenching around him as he he finally released inside you, bucking his hips up and down. Laying his head into your chest and catching his breathe. You fell backwards onto the bed catching your breathe now. Alfie making the bed sink beside you as he laid on his back looking at the ceiling. 

“Well fuck love. You didn’t think this would happen when you came here?” He asked still with heavy breathing. 

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” You said standing up. 

“But I guess you wont ever know, Alfie.” You said with a wink before walking out. 

“Fucking Peaky Blinders.” Was all Alfie could say.

[angel-liftr]

a masterlist for lifting UK shops 🏋‍♂️🏋‍♂️

thought id give some love for fellow UK lifters (i will update this regularly)

Sup3rmärķets (TESCO, Aldi, Lidl etc): easy pickings, great for beginners. often LP and beeping gates. cart walk outs are quite difficult because they tend to have the exits blocked off to only if u buy stuff 🏋‍♂️

br@ndy mel1ll (covent garden): mayhem. so busy. workers dont even care so do it on shop floor because they THOROUGHLY check changing rooms. they have LP. nothing is tagged so just sneak it in your shopping bag.

f0rb1dd3n plan3t: slipped a manga under leather jacket EZ

gl0ss13r: impossible because all items u have to ask staff to get from the back. only stuff out is testers and alot of LP. dont even try.

bandai namco camden store: quite easy got so much japanese stationery and figures. the figures were tagged but the alarms didnt go off. got at least 100 in there and staff didnt give a damn! sleeve conceal most and hust drop in bag for rest (i was beeping in other shops LOL)

muji: quite easy, some lp and stationery is just a sleeve conceal!

Sûp3rdrug and Bóöts: multiple LP on medium alert but SUPERSUPERR easy as long as u conceal in a blind spot. my first lift was here 😭👍 sleeve conceal for small items like lipsticks and eyeliner but i like to kneel and pretend to look at products then shove one in my tote for bigger items like shampoos and hair gels!

ĥ&M: easy. most cheap clothes aren't tagged and fitting rooms are only monitered on busy weekends. staff are pretty chill.

Prîmãrk: slightly chill staff, tons of LP and fitting rooms HIGHLY monitored. they search through clothes super thoroughly and will get mad if u try to hide anything. however, their makeups accessories are sooo easy great for beginners.

Süp3rdrỳ: all clothes is tagged, multiple LP around the store and unmonitored fitting rooms but the fitting rooms tend to be near the checkout. only lifted once from here because its not normally busy but staff was definetly suspicious of me. dont reccomend for newbies.

ĥmv: multiple LPs and staff but the staff are so chill someone saw me and did nothing. i normlly sleeve conceal small blind bags or knick nacks and just stuff it in my bag at a blindspot for bigger boxed figurines and manga. some items have rfdi. sliipped a cd under armpit under jacket so EZ

wâterst0ņes: never busy, normally no LP and only staff are at the till or shelving. some items have rfdi.

sp0řțs dîrêct: unmonitored changing rooms and busy staff helpinf customers 24/7 most items have tags. always prettu busy

uřban oûtfittēřs: monitored changing rooms, LP and staff. all items are tagged so bring tools. some have magnet detectors. always busy

urban outfitter tag: (no clue what this is but my magnet wasnt strong enough, howver someties their buzzing machines dont work so u can just walk out with it)

Lûsĥ: no rfdi, pretty busy. lots of staff who will ask to help you out. no LP. no buzzing machines

Tỳpö: no LP, rarely rfdi, few staff, pretty easy to sleave small items like washi tape and pens.

The flying tiger: really easy, no LP, no rfdi and few staff. however normally busy and its full of millenials who WILL rat u out if they see.

miniso: quite easy but lots of staff. just drop in bag and come when its early.

[mlmxreader]

Such Fine Weather | Alfie Solomons x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Alfie Solomons x Reader (I'm sorry, I'm such a hoe for Alfie. It's not even funny) -> Person B stealing Person A's clothes [Alfie notices something very distinct about the supposed new shirt Reader is wearing] ❞

: ̗̀➛ It's not often that you and Alfie get a chance to rest whilst in the trenches, but sometimes, luck just so happens to be on your side and allow you both just one small sliver of something good amongst the thick and dense grey fog of 1915.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ war, trauma, mentions of shit (literal), depictions of injury and gun violence, swearing, animal death

↳ word count: 1020

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The fields were completely barren. Stripped of every little sign of life from the smallest flower to the biggest beetle, it was all gone. Constant artillery fire and toxic gas took it all away as easily as rain used to bring it all back after the hard winters; yet now was not the time for getting upset over the loss of life.

It was not the time, not when there had been a truce called for the day; the Germans had approached it first, and when the French agreed to it, so did the British.

All three trenches laid down their guns for once, and although they did not cross paths, it was clear to see that the good weather had allowed some sort of good spirit to flood through the thick grey fog.

Alfie had been no exception, as he lounged in a shell crater and used his jacket as a pillow; his hands folded across his stomach, he allowed the sun to kiss his skin, completely bare from the waist up as he felt - for the first time in months - sunlight upon his flesh.

He didn’t care if he burned, he had not felt the sun in too long, constantly stifled by thick fog from gas and smoke and an even thicker uniform. He was glad of it, really - and for the first time in months, he had actually been able to leave you in bed as well.

Usually, you were always up whenever he was, as the perk of being his right hand man and second in command was that you had to go wherever he did; yet you could actually sleep in for once, actually get some fucking rest and properly slip into a sweet slumber.

Oh, it was glorious.

Even if Alfie did wish he was back home in Camden where you both belonged; he did have to ask himself whether or not everyone back home was alright, but he had not heard anything from the new recruits who passed through, so he guessed that all was as well as it could be despite the war.

He hoped his mother was alright, at least.

Alfie knew that you had a difficult time in the trenches, much more difficult than he did; already, you had been shot six times, but despite the surgeon’s orders, you refused to go home. You couldn’t go back without Alfie, even though you couldn’t say that; you had to tell them that you could not leave your men behind instead.

Shot six times and then stabbed with a bayonet - it was a miracle you still had any limbs left at all. But then there was the nightmares, the physical pain without a wound where you had taken the lives of other men, and the fucking bowel issues.

The war went more than flesh deep, and Alfie saw it in your eyes every time he told you that you had to charge alongside the French again - heading straight into certain fucking death. 

But as Alfie began to lose himself in his thoughts, he heard the dry mud crack and slide, and lazily opened one eye; he smiled as he turned his head slightly to look at you.

“D’you mind? You’re takin’ up me sun, sunshine.”

You rolled your eyes as you thudded down beside him, lying on your back and sinking down so that you could rest your head on his shoulder; immediately, you took his hand in your own, and traced the calluses on his fingers like you always did when you were in a good place for the day.

“I’m all the sun you need, matey.”

He laughed softly, trying not to flinch at the sound of distant artillery fire and gunshots; the other trenches weren’t too far off, but they were far enough that he didn’t have to panic about the truce being over just yet. “Whatever you say.”

But he caught a glimpse of your shirt sleeve, and he hummed as he noticed the tear along the cuff from where he had been caught in barbed wire; the cuff had become frayed and baggy from the split, and he knew it as well as he knew the difference between your jacket and his own.

A curious hum left the back of his throat as he realised that you had been scavenging from his “clean” clothes pile; nothing was truly clean, always caked in blood, shit, mud, clay, smoke, vomit… something.

But it was cleaner than some of the other stuff he had, and he wanted to laugh loudly; he just couldn’t bring himself to. Alfie hadn’t been able to laugh loudly since he saw that poor Russian kid get his head blown off by a machine gun - all for laughing together whilst having a cigarette near the shit pits.

“You stealin’ from me, now?”

You shrugged, daring to laugh quietly; you had stopped laughing loudly when you had watched a horse get torn to shreds by the wire whilst you and a few other soldiers had been playing cards nearby. “Just a little bit. Your stuff’s cleaner than mine, Cap.”

“Sure it is,” Alfie scoffed, rolling his eyes fondly. “Next time you’re gonna nick my shit - maybe don’t nick the stuff that’s fuckin’ obviously mine. You know what’d happen if we get caught.”

“One day,” you started, “and I really mean it - one day, we won’t have to hide. Ever. Maybe… maybe that’ll be the only good thing to come out of this war, eh? Maybe they’ll finally let men like us exist.”

Alfie hummed, wanting to agree but he doubted it; he had seen the way politicians talked about men like you and him, and he doubted that the war would do much else except make it all worse.

But you had always been hopeful about it, so maybe… maybe he could believe for a moment. If only because you had mentioned it on such a fine day. “If you reckon so.”

“I do,” you told him with a bright smile. They never could take that from you. “I reckon so, things are gonna change for us.”

thank you so much for reading! If you have any spare change whatsoever, even if it's just £1, then please consider donating to help Deyaa get himself and his family to safety and to escape and survive the ongoing genocide in Gaza. Even just £1 is going to go such, such a long way so please, if you have any money to spare, please consider giving it to Deyaa.

[spreadyovrwings]

64 Oslo Square

"Companion' Middle English. From Old French 'compaignon', literally 'one who breaks bread with another.

Strapped for cash, John gets a job at a bakery as their new delivery boy. Juggling school and Queen and work is exhausting, but it's more than worth it. It's worth it because of you.

Warnings for this chapter: smut! slight sub/dom dynamics, i guess, i'm never sure, i just like being bossy. john gets topped, and i do mean topped!

A/N: i'm so sorry! i’ve been gone for ages! i've just got a million hyperfixations and they all take up a lot of energy you know how it is but but but hopefully this makes up for it

//

Chapter 11

Sweat beaded your skin, clammy and tight. Every breath you drew in was lukewarm and fetid, half someone else’s. Your feet hurt and your head was pounding and the floor was sticky beneath your new shoes, but you hardly noticed any of it.

John was pressed tight against you, and it was all you could think about, all you could bring yourself to focus on. His narrow body felt angular and hot; you could feel the heat coming off of him through his clothes.

It was Saturday night. The bakery had been yours for exactly six days. John had been yours for even longer. Now, pressed up against each other in a tiny Camden club, you could finally celebrate both.

The music was so loud, it had risen to a dull hum, pop music you were faintly aware of but didn’t know the words or the steps to. You weren’t being modest when you said you weren’t much of a dancer, but John didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his hands hadn’t left your body since he pulled you onto the dance floor, and he had enough moves for the both of you.

It had been an exhausting week, but the kind of exhausting that left your muscles glowing and your chest full at the end of the day.

Universities had finally broken up for the summer, so John had a lot more free time, and he’d spent most of it hunched over Gladys’ desk, running through 64 Oslo Square's accounts. He’d made it his solemn duty to uncover exactly what kind of impact Alastair had had on the bakery.

John was right, that night he walked you home and off-handedly wondered how the bakery could possibly be struggling considering it never lacked customers and the area was so affluent.

It turned out Alastair had been funnelling money out of the business for months, ever since he met Gladys. He had sought her out, plucked her from the vine, and pressed her between thumb and forefinger, squeezing her for all she was worth with a vicious smile.

Now he was gone, the bakery had come to life again. John found money ferreted away in all sorts of places, stored away for hard times, or just in case things went south for Alastair. Luckily, John’s astute head for numbers and figures got there first, returning what had always been yours back to you, like transposing music for one instrument to another.

Before too long, 64 Oslo Square could raise its head again. You didn’t have to beg for new kitchen equipment. You didn’t have to pray for a pay-rise. The scarlet front door could be painted for the first time in years, Mickey didn’t have to worry about taking care of his young family, and Gladys could hire more help, allowing you your first night out in almost a decade.

You met after work. John went home to shower and get changed, giving you time to figure out what on earth to wear on your first proper date with the boy you’d fallen in love with months ago. You kept having to remind yourself that you hadn’t actually told him yet; something about John’s pretty green-grey eyes made you lose all track of time.

When he picked you up, John looked less than pleased. Laughing softly at his turned-down mouth, you slipped a hand over his shoulder and pulled him down to your height so that you could press a kiss to his cheek.

“Alright, New Boy?”

“Hi, love.” John sighed. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

Frowning, you ushered him into your flat.

“Already? We haven’t even made it out the door yet.”

You smiled, hoping to reassure him, and it seemed to work. But John still looked troubled despite the little smile he summoned in return.

“C’mon, then. What’re you sorry for?”

With another, frankly dramatic sigh, John flopped down onto your couch like a sack of potatoes. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, splayed outwards in a ‘V’, his platform heels digging into the carpet.

It had been a while since he’d been in your flat. John looked so funny, collapsed on your couch. He was so tall and gangly, he made all your furniture look smaller, and tonight he was dressed up to the nines, his hair perfect, huffing and puffing on your second-hand sofa.

“I was telling Roger about tonight, you know, asking where we should go because he- And now-”

“He’s coming too?”

“And Freddie.”

John looked so despairing, you had to laugh. He looked like a teenager who’d been told he had to bring his little brother along to a party.

“I’m really sorry. I did try to tell them this was our first proper date but they’d already started planning what they were gonna wear, and you know what they’re like, I- We can just make this a night out, this doesn’t have to be-”

“John,” You spoke his name softly, gently, settling down on the couch beside him with an easy smile. “It’s alright. I really don’t mind.”

“You sure? We could always go to a different club or something. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t notice.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. I like your mates. And hey, you know, we can always lose them in the crowd.”

Brushing your fingers along the seam of his black satin shirt, you pushed your fingertips in, just below his shoulder, squeezing gently, reassuringly, insinuatingly.

“You said you’ve got moves,” you murmured, your fingers dropping to play with his hair. “You gonna put on a show for me tonight?”

John’s ever-steady gaze never wavered, even as you curled his pretty hair around your fingers.

“Maybe I’ll treat you.”

His voice cracked when you “accidentally” tugged on his hair.

“Ohhh,” You grinned. “Lucky me.”

And now here you were, moving against each other in the dark.

John really did know how to move. It just came naturally to him. The music flowed through his veins, his heart beating in time with the pounding bass, and all you could do was watch him and admire the nice boy who’d so softly changed your life.

He bought you a drink, then another, politely refusing your offer to get the next round in.

As predicted, you lost track of his friends almost immediately. You’d almost forgotten you weren’t there alone until John leaned down and murmured by your ear,

“D’you wanna get some air?”

There was no mistaking the intent behind his words, the way they wrapped around you, the spark they lit in his dark eyes despite the low club lights. Your pulse raced, your body reacting to every touch, every look, just the proximity of him, the promise of his presence.

What he meant was, do you want to go home? And you did. You couldn’t imagine wanting anything more in all your life.

/

John’s back hit the bakery door with a dull thunk. Giggling softly against his mouth, you apologised over and over, half muffled as he tried to kiss you between laughs, reassuring you that it was fine while his big hands pawed at your hips.

He tasted so good, you couldn’t bear the thought of moving away from him for even a second, so you fished around in your bag for the door keys without once breaking the kiss.

After several shaky attempts (thanks to John tugging your bottom lip between his teeth) you managed to turn the key, and together, you fell into the shop.

Stumbling backwards in his stupid platforms, John clung to your hips for support as you guided him through to the kitchen.

The thought of getting the next door open seemed too mammoth a task to even attempt at that moment, so instead you backed John up against it, pressing your body as close to his as you could, until you had almost been consumed by one another.

The protruding angles and flat planes of his narrow body felt sharp and unfamiliar as you sank into each other. Your mind swam with the endless possibilities; running your hands over his slim chest, kissing across his stomach, your hands keeping him pinned down with the slightest squeeze at his hips.

Every niggling worry you’d ever had about being good enough for John, about being with someone for the first time in years, about trusting someone with all of you, it had all washed away. All that remained was a chest fit to burst with love, and a desire so strong, it was all you could do to stop yourself asking if you could just have him right there and then.

John could obviously sense where your mind was wandering to, even as he moaned softly into your mouth. He squeezed your waist, then your hips, kissing you so deeply, your knees threatened to give way.

“We can’t do this here,” he managed to gasp out between kisses. “Not in the bakery.”

When you huffed a little laugh, your warm breath fanned across his cheek and he couldn’t resist the shiver that slipped down his spine.

You smiled against his mouth, pointed and pleased with yourself.

“My bakery now.”

John groaned roughly at your soft, low voice, and again as your tongue pressed against his. He opened himself up to you, letting you take his mouth as you pleased, his breathing growing heavy.

He couldn’t decide where he wanted his hands, they were everywhere, in your hair, pressing into your back to keep you close, tugging at your hips, his touches waking up your body and making your head spin.

“It’s always been yours.” John’s dark gaze met yours. “And so have I.”

You laughed, airy and quick, hoping to disguise just how much that meant to you, but John knew, John always knew. The last thread keeping your doubt and your fear yolked finally snapped.

Taking your keys from your hand, John half-turned to open the door, his free hand still palming and squeezing at your hip.

You tripped up the stairs together, giggling and breathless in your eagerness.

“You have too many doors,” John muttered when you reached your flat. “It’s like a bloody funhouse in here.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, John.”

He pressed the keys into your hand then tucked himself behind you so that you had room to unlock the door. Or so you thought. A shiver ran over your skin when you felt John’s breath on your bare shoulder, then his lips against your neck.

As he mouthed at your hot skin and grazed you with his teeth, you shakily jammed the key into the lock, finally managing to wiggle it open just as John dragged his tongue over a spot that made you want to completely unravel.

There was no time to savour the ritual of undressing each other, neither you nor John had the patience for it right now. Instead, you practically tore his pretty satin shirt open, dragging the sleeves down his arms as you backed him up towards the bed, never once breaking the kiss.

“Oh God,” John laughed softly against your mouth when the cuff of one of his sleeves got caught on his watch. “Hang on, love. I’m not going anywhere, you know.”

“I know, but I’ve been wanting to do this to you for months. You can’t blame a girl for being impatient.”

“‘To me’?” John grinned as he shook off his shirt. “You mean ‘with me’?”

You just smiled and pulled him back down to kiss you.

Head still spinning from the nightclub, the rum in your blood, John’s aftershave, John’s everything, you hardly noticed him slipping his long fingers under the hem of your dress and pulling up and up and up, until you begrudgingly had to stop kissing him to let John pull it over your head.

“Oh, wow.”

It was all you allowed John before you planted both hands against his chest and pushed him into sitting on the edge of the bed.

You kicked off your uncomfortable shoes and got rid of your bra, and all the while John watched you with warm, full eyes, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and for the first time in your life, you believed a boy looking at you.

“Yeah?”

Your movements slowed under his heavy gaze. Something about the look on John’s face made you want to take a breath.

When he raised his hands, you moved closer without a word, standing between John’s knees while he looked up at you in awe.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your sternum.

When his fingers pressed into your bare skin, you tensed, sucking in a sharp breath.

John looked up at you curiously, his clever grey-green eyes so clear and bright.

“Sorry,” You smiled. “Not used to- It’s been a while. Not used to being touched there. Feels a bit…”

“What?”

John punctuated his question with a soft kiss pressed sweetly to the swell of your right breast. His other hand came up to cup the other gently, his thumb sweeping across you, circling and circling, his sharp eyes never leaving yours.

“The last boy…”

“The idiot?”

You smiled.

“Yeah, that one. He didn’t really like the way I looked.”

“What’s not to like?”

John frowned.

It wasn’t really question but you felt the need to explain.

“Kept trying to “help” me. Used to piss me off no end. Eventually, he stopped touching me. Wasn’t seeing him for very long but he was the last person…”

John shook his head, his brow furrowed, his funny mouth all turned down at the corners.

“I can’t believe you gave him the time of day.”

“Well, he had his own car...”

“Fair enough.”

John briefly smiled, then he shook his head again, as if he couldn’t even joke about it.

“I’m glad you’re shot of him. Means I get you all to myself. And to me, you feel soft…”

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the middle of your belly, taking his time, dragging his teeth, his eyes closed to savour the feeling.

“And warm…”

Another kiss, this one to the left of your navel, while his fingers pressed into your hips and tugged you closer, until the tip of his nose was buried in your stomach.

”And inviting…”

Cheeks burning, you slipped your fingers into his hair, grazing your nails across his scalp.

“John…”

John’s stare met yours as his hands slipped round to squeeze your arse, pulling you closer still. His open mouth split into a grin before he bent his head to drag his tongue across your skin.

“You’re perfect. You’re so beautiful, love.”

It wasn’t often you were left speechless, but if anyone was going to manage it, it would be John Deacon.

You bit your lip, shaking your head to yourself, as you quietly watched him press more and more kisses down the centre of your stomach.

“Been wanting to touch you like this since the first time I saw you.”

John had spent so long thinking about kissing you like this, imagining how you would feel, how you’d taste, the lovely sounds you’d make, how your body would feel against his, and now he’d got his answers, he never wanted to stop.

You laughed as you closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against your shoulders, giving yourself up to him. It was hard to focus, so you just let him press little kisses all over your body, round your hips, across your belly, down your thighs, until his fingers slipped between your legs and you gasped, electricity shooting through your veins.

Biting back a smile, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled it up between you, like you’d caught him stealing. The excited smile was wiped from John’s face when you leaned in close and murmured against his neck,

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, sweetheart.”

“‘s funny,” John stretched his long fingers out, splaying then relaxing them again, testing the strength and limit of your grip on his wrist. “I thought I was exactly where I needed to be.”

“‘Needed’?”

“Mm hm.”

“Not ‘wanted’?”

“The two get sort of mixed up when I look at you. You’re very- You make them, erm, homonyms.”

“I think you mean ‘synonyms’.”

“It’s hard to concentrate with your tits in my face.”

“Fair enough.” You smiled. “We’re getting off topic.”

“Are we?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been talking?”

“John!”

He laughed when you batted his shoulder.

“Love, I can barely remember my own name right now.”

“You were getting ahead of yourself.”

“Actually, I do remember disputing that.”

“Of course you do.”

“What’s your point, love?”

“My point is,” You carefully placed your knee on the mattress beside John’s hip. “I didn’t say you could touch me there.”

John’s eyes switched excitedly across your face, but his easy smile faded as you straddled his thighs, settling in his lap.

You sighed and looped your arms around his neck, curling your fingers into his thick, dark hair.

“I didn’t realise-” John swallowed when your bare chest pressed against his. “I had to ask permission.”

Feigning confusion, you frowned quizzically, and all the while, you slowly grazed your nails across John’s scalp. He shivered against you, his muscles shifting beneath his pale skin.

“We’ve known each other for almost a year, John. Have I ever given you the impression that you’d be calling the shots here?”

There was a point in his neck, neatly positioned between his shoulder and his protruding collarbone. You could see the steady, perfect bass line of his heartbeat pulsing under his skin. It jumped when you rolled your body into his.

“Couldn’t help myself,” John let his heavy eyelids close, focusing on keeping his breathing even. “Did I mention you’re beautiful?”

You tilted his head back and kissed him, your tongue rolling over his, too riled up to wait for permission. You kept his chin up with your hand against his throat, the pad of your thumb pressing into his thready pulse.

Kissing John was unlike anything you’d ever known. Other boys grabbed at you, pressed selfishly into you, taking what they wanted and not caring how it felt for you. They were too rough, unimaginative, or simply just looking for a way to stave off boredom. But John…

As John’s lips moved against yours, it felt as if you were speaking the same language as someone for the first time in your life.

Skilled hands smoothed up and down your back, finding every part you wanted him to find, every part you wanted him to warm, as if he could read your mind. His lovely nose bumped yours whenever he turned his head and you could feel his smile every time you made an appreciative sound.

He was attentive, thoughtful, just like you knew he would be, just like he was when he played. He might look like his mind was elsewhere, but John was honed in on every note. He knew them all, he knew you too.

You must’ve shifted just where he needed you, must’ve slotted your body against his in just the right way, because John suddenly broke the kiss with a wet sound that made you swear under your breath.

He cut you off with a low, sonorous moan, his soft lips parting so you could see his pretty, pink, antagonising tongue.

“Just like-” He groaned again and this time his big hands found your hips, moving you so that you rocked against him just like he needed again. “That feels good. Shit-”

You could feel the hard outline of him through his stupid tight cord trousers. The friction alone was enough to send thrums of electricity through your body.

You hummed, pleased with yourself. You were admittedly a little rusty. Before tonight, you had half a mind to warn John just how long it had been since you’d been intimate with anyone, but it appeared you hadn’t lost the knack. Either that, or John was extremely receptive.

Beneath you, he moaned and let his head fall forward until his face was buried in your chest, his voice vibrating through you. All you were doing was rocking your hips into his, tugging on his hair, grazing your lips by his jaw. Yes, very receptive. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on him properly.

Then again, you had never dared to ask how long it had been for him either. You weren’t stupid, John had been with girls before you, at home, at uni. He’d never mentioned anyone. Maybe there was no one worth talking about. Anyway, everyone in your life seemed to agree that when quiet, thoughtful, reticent John finally did speak, the only thing he wanted to talk about was you.

You kissed him again, twice, three times, then squeezed his shoulder.

“Get comfy. I’ll stick some music on.”

You wobbled to the record player on unsteady legs and put on something soft and slow, warm and romantic.

When you came back, John had shuffled up the bed until his back was against the headboard. He looked so silly, sat there shirtless, his trousers and heels still on.

His sharp eyes followed you as you moved around the bed, but John wore an enormous grin, his face flushed, his slim chest heaving. He was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

“Did you mean to say that out loud?” John asked, his smile growing.

In an effort to mask your embarrassment, you wrapped your hand around one of his ankles and gently tugged him round until his legs were hanging off the side of the bed.

Giggling together, you hefted his leg up to your waist and pushed up his trouser leg.

“I love these shoes,” you murmured, admiring his black and white patent heels. “You’re such a bloody tease, Deacon.”

Sitting up on his elbows now, John raised his eyebrows as you started to unlace one of his platforms for him.

“You like them?”

“Like them? I’m trying to decide whether I should make you leave them on.”

You took off one shoe, then the other, dropping them to the floor so you could kick them under the bed. His trousers came off next, leaving you both in just your underwear.

You said it yourself, you’d known each other for almost a year now. That was a long time to wait to touch each other. John seemed to agree.

As you settled back in his lap, his hands immediately found your hips, pulling you down so that you could feel exactly what you did to him, and the infinitesimal strands holding the last of your reservations together finally snapped.

“You’re so pretty.” You murmured the words against his lips this time, so he knew you meant it. “I love your mouth so much.”

Curiosity sparked behind John’s eyes, and you wondered if anyone had ever said anything even remotely similar to him before.

With one hand resting on his narrow shoulder for balance, you took the other and dragged the pad of your thumb across John’s bottom lip, taking your time. They were a little chapped, he was always worrying them between his teeth, and a shade darker than usual tonight, bruised by your own.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been wanting to play with this pretty little mouth of yours?”

John’s eyes widened, his lips falling open as a soft moan escaped him, one you were sure was completely involuntary.

Beaming, you reached down between you and wrapped your other hand around him through his straining underwear.

Those eyes again, they gave away so much. John’s expression hardly twitched, but his eyes grew glossy and heavy as you worked him, purposefully slow, until he had completely melted into you.

“Goddd, feels so good…” His eyes rolled closed, his jaw slack. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

With the tip of your index finger, you grazed his bottom lip, then dipped in a little. John cracked his eyes open, you could feel him watching you with interest. Breathing shakily, you kept going, parting his lips to gently push your finger against his tongue.

“What do we say?”

John’s brow furrowed, summoning up a crease between his eyebrows that you couldn’t resist kissing away.

“Please,” he gasped out.

Your finger slipped into his warm mouth with ease. John immediately swirled his tongue around it, whimpering and moaning as he sucked gently, so needy for you that his hips bucked up into your hand

“Oh, dear…” you practically purred. “Someone’s eager.”

John groaned around your finger, his eyes widening when you added another. He squeezed your hips in time with every stroke of your hand, silently urging you to keep going while his mouth was occupied.

Once he’d got them nice and wet, you pulled back your fingers and drew your index along his bottom lip.

“Good boy,” you whispered, then popped your fingers into your own mouth to taste him with a moan. “You’re even sweeter than you look, my darlin’.”

John thought he must’ve died and gone to heaven. That was the only explanation for it. How else could he be here, with you, your lips against his and your hands anywhere you wanted them?

You kissed both his pink cheeks, then the corner of his lovely mouth, and all the while, you palmed him through his stupid tight pants.

John looked up at you like it pained him to not have your mouth on his properly, but your hand pressing firmly down on his hard length pulled his expression from agony to ecstasy.

“Love, if you don’t do something soon, I swear, I’m gonna-“

“What?”

You removed your hand, eyebrows raised.

John bit his lip, trying heroically to hold back, but he couldn’t help it. He let out a disappointed whine.

“Love…”

He bucked his hips, trying to press himself into your hand.

Satisfied, you carefully clambered off him.

“Mm, that’s what I thought.”

“Wait…”

John tried to pull you back into him but you distracted him with a deep, searing kiss, keeping his brain occupied so your hands could work.

Though he missed you being close to him, John couldn’t keep the grin from his face as you pushed him down flat on the bed, his head safely nestled against the pillows.

In his chest, his heart was pounding like a bass drum. He wanted to shout so your neighbours could hear. He wanted to run to the windows and declare to the whole city that this was the greatest night of his life. He wanted to tell the world that he was the happiest he’d ever been and he was in bed with the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. But he settled for gazing up at you and thanking his lucky stars.

Kneeling beside him now, you took a moment for yourself to just enjoy the scene before you. It was selfish really but you thought John could stand to wait a few seconds while you took him in.

His long hair was spread out across the pillow, dark curls that took hours to set just right. You smiled to yourself.

He was a walking contradiction. He was such a low maintenance boy, so happy to do whatever you wanted to do. No fancy clothes, no ridiculous car, no expensive bad habits. But John cared about how we looked. He cared about doing well at uni. He understood music better than most and cared about Queen’s future. He just never made it anyone else’s problem.

It was only in the last few months that you’d really seen him open up. You couldn’t wait to discover the rest of him. ‘Easy Deacon’, they used to call him. Everything just came so naturally to John. You knew that wasn’t exactly true, but the thought of having a good, kind, lucky, sensible boy in your life, in your bed, might just be the most wonderful thing that ever happened to you.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about this,” you said.

John swallowed thickly when you pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then his sternum.

”Oh, yeah?”

He was still so slim, even after all your best effort. You could pick out each of his ribs as John sucked in a deep breath.

Kissing your way down his chest, you paused to rest your chin over his heart, trying to feel for it.

John’s head was thrown back, his jaw high and his neck exposed, so he didn’t see your fond smile, or the pang of emotion behind your eyes as you turned your head, aching to hear the rounded, powerful, thump thump thump of his heart.

It pounded harder than you expected. You could almost feel it pulsing against your cheek, strong and full and just for you.

“You’re having palpitations, Johnny.” You raised your head and caught his eyes. “You wanna stop and catch your breath?”

John exhaled sharply, not quite a laugh, there was no humour in it. He obviously didn’t think that was funny.

“If you stop now, I think I’ll pass out.”

“Well, can’t have that.”

You kissed your way down his chest, taking your time, savouring the feeling of his hot, flushed skin against your lips.

You took note of every muscle twitch, your ears pricking at every sharp intake of breath. Learning what made the famously stoic and impassive John Deacon moan and squirm was going to be fun.

You peppered more kisses down his chest, taking the time to flick your tongue across both nipples, just to make John’s hips stutter. Face flushed, he groaned almost in protest, but didn’t move to stop you at all.

You pushed further, kissing your way down his stomach, until John was half giggling, half whimpering. He bit down hard on his lip, his long fingers reaching out and finding a home in your hair, where he tugged ever so gently, like he was trying to spur you on but didn’t want to risk making you stop again.

“Love, that…” John hissed through his teeth as you licked a stripe up his belly. “That tickles.”

You laughed softly.

“Does it? Sorry.”

“No, don’t b- Ohn…”

You looked up at John, the skin just below his navel still caught between your teeth. You let it go slowly, dragging at his skin, and all the while you watched his pretty face contort and soften, his teeth practically embedded in his bottom lip.

“Sorry, what was that?”

John huffed, his fingers tightening in your hair as you kissed down the front of his underwear, slow and hot, teasing him on purpose, drifting so close to where he desperately wanted to be touched, but never quite there.

Enough torture. You hooked your fingers under the waistband of his pants and slowly dragged them down his pale thighs, pausing only to place kisses on either side of his bony hips, and the contrasting softness of his inner thighs.

“Just relax, Johnny. It’s only me.”

You smiled against his skin, watching his face contort and shift as you tugged the waistband of his underwear down against him, a mean trick but worth it for the soft little noises he gave in response.

“I’ve got you, love. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

John whimpered, his chest rising and falling fast. His eyes stayed fixed on yours as you pulled his pants all the way down, until his aching cock was pressed against his stomach.

“Oh, hello,” You laughed, disguising just how embarrassingly turned on you were with a quirked eyebrow and a wobbly smile. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Despite his nerves, John huffed a little laugh too.

It had been a while since anyone had seen him like this. Somehow, it felt like the first time. You were the most important thing in his life, the most beautiful, wonderful person he’d ever known, it mattered what you thought, it mattered that you liked how he looked.

He watched you take him in, watched your pretty eyes cross his body, and for once, didn’t feel self-conscious under someone else’s gaze. John knew you wouldn’t care what he looked like but he couldn’t help blooming with pride, his cheeks prickling at the pleased look on your face.

John sucked in a sharp breath as your hand wrapped around him, moving up and down his length slowly, almost absent-mindedly, while you soaked up every new detail exposed to you, every new valley and slope, memorising every detail of his body until you could see him behind your closed eyes.

Then you squeezed him, testing the boundaries of his patience, and John lost all sense of bravado and decorum. He groaned, letting his head drop back against the pillow, panting now.

“Fuck, sweetheart, please…”

You tilted your head to the side, feigning obliviousness.

“Please what, love?”

“Just, please…” John moaned again, his hips pressing up into your hand, searching desperately for more pressure, friction, anything. “Please touch me. Feel like I’m gonna…”

You didn’t get to hear the rest, John’s eyes suddenly widened and he put his much larger hand over yours.

“Wait, this isn’t right. I should be- I should take care of you first.”

“What? Because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do?”

“No! Well, no- No, that’s not why I’m asking. I want to make you feel good. I should get you off first.”

Somehow, even though you had his dick in your hand, hearing John talk about ‘getting you off’ made you go all bashful.

“Why should you?”

“Well,” Looking oddly relaxed for someone in his position, John sat up on his elbows. “It’s just maths, innit.”

“Don’t say ‘innit’, you’re from Oadby.”

“I’m finally picking up the lingo. My point is, it’s maths.”

“Is it now?”

You smiled and sat back on your knees.

John’s eyes followed your hands as they left his body to drag across the mattress. Being cheeky had been a risky move and he’d miscalculated, you weren’t touching him anymore. He’d have to make sure it was worth it.

“I’m a bloke. You can cum again and again and again, but I get one shot at this. Two if I’m lucky… Three would probably kill me.”

“It’s tempting right now.”

“I’m just saying,” John’s grin was toothy and silly. He looked about the most relaxed you’d ever seen him. “I’d like to get a few in before I, you know, close up shop.”

“Well…”

You carefully placed your hands on either side of his body so that you could move over him. Placing your knee between his thighs, you leaned in close to murmur against his lips.

“How’s about I take care of you, properly. Like I’ve been thinking and dreaming about doing for… Hm, when did you start at the bakery?”

“30th January.”

“Right. Six whole months, John.”

“Almost seven.”

“Almost seven! Yes! Y’see!”

You kissed the tip of his nose, then his cheek, while John laughed softly, nuzzling his face against yours.

“How about… I take care of you. And then you can - what was it you said? - make me cum again…”

You kissed him.

“And again…”

Another soft kiss that made John’s whole body light up.

“And again…”

The rough pads of his bass-bitten fingers grazed your scalp as John slipped a hand back into your hair, keeping your mouth fixed to his, as if letting you move away would be allowing you, the night, that moment, to disappear.

Moaning softly into your mouth, John ran his tongue over yours, his eyebrows drawn together.

“You’re very persuasive.”

You grinned, feeling silly and happy and safe.

“‘s just maths, innit.”

“Mm,” John nodded and kissed you again, then pressed his nose to yours. “Sounds much better coming from you.”

“What was that about ‘coming?’”

“Oh-hoh, you’re on fire tonight.”

“Well, let’s see, shall we?”

You wrapped your hand around him and swallowed his surprised groan with a deep, slow kiss, matching the movement of your hand with your lips.

John shuddered beneath you, gripping you tight as your thumb absentmindedly swiped over the head of his cock.

Completely lacking all composure now, John’s hips jerked up into your hand, chasing a high you couldn’t wait to give him.

“You’re so fucking pretty, John.”

Cheeks tinged pink, he turned and buried his face in your forearm.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“It’ll-” He choked, his hips jumping into your hand. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

Smiling, you leaned down to kiss him slowly.

“That’s kind of the point, pretty boy.”

The only sign that he’d heard and understood you was a keening moan.

John shut his eyes, his brow furrowed like he was concentrating, the same sweet little frown he got when he played the bass.

Your cheeks were starting to ache, you were so smiling so broadly. With one knee, you gently nudged his legs further apart, then hooked your hand under one of his knees so that his foot was firmly planted on the bed.

John opened his eyes but there was nothing behind them. He blinked at you, his mouth open, his pale, slim chest heaving. He had just enough wherewithal to ask,

“What..?”

Still smiling, you swapped hands, getting him off with one while you slipped the fingers of your dominant hand into your mouth.

John’s pretty eyes dropped to follow your hand as it fell between his thighs.

“Trust me?”

He bit his lip, eyes wide, when you circled his entrance, massaging it. You could feel his whole body seize up immediately, like you’d electrocuted him. Then, just when you thought he might ask you to stop, he said,

“Yes.”

It was only a whisper, so you made him repeat himself, just to make sure.

John nodded furiously, repeating ‘yes yes yes’ over and over as you pushed your finger against him.

John’s legs instinctively rose to hook around your lower body, his ankles crossing almost delicately behind you while he gasped and huffed, kneading at your hips to keep himself grounded as you gently worked him open with one finger.

You swallowed his hiccuping moan with another kiss, keeping him distracted, getting him used to the unfamiliar feeling.

“Relax, sweetheart,” you said, dropping your other hand to soothingly rub his thigh. “Just wanna make you feel good. Can you take over, sweetheart, while I..?”

Without loosing a beat, John’s fingers brushed yours as he wrapped them around his cock. You gave him one final squeeze before you let go.

You could wiggle your finger around now, and you worked a second in, twisting and scissoring, dropping little words of praise and encouragement when John began to grind down on your hand.

“Ohhnfuuck…” he moaned, his head flung back to expose his neck.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, watched his pulse jump under his jaw, and felt a swell of affection when John moaned your name. His tried to speak but his voice cracked, punctuated by sharp gasps whenever you pushed that little bit further.

“That’s it, pretty boy. That’s it. Just like that, sweetheart.”

Keeping your fingers moving steadily, you bent your head and nipped at his belly, then his pelvis, making your way down until you could nudge his hand away with your nose.

John seemed to begrudge the thought of letting go but you kissed his fingertips, then the base of his cock, and he released himself with a frustrated whine.

“Love, I’m-”

You stopped him complaining by dragging your tongue up the underside of him. John completely melted under your touch, his voice wobbling uncontrollably as you swirled your tongue around his head.

“Sweetheart, please, please, please-”

“Please what, Johnny?”

“Please don’t stop, please please please don’t stop, feels so fucking good when you- Ah!”

Though your muscles ached, you couldn’t imagine stopping now, not with John begging like that, so you shifted the position of your hand.

“When I what, honey?”

The new angle made John tense up again, his wispy little fringe now sticking to his forehead. But then you took him in your mouth, licking him clean and sucking at his swollen tip, and his whole body went slack.

“Ohhhn, when you fuck me like that.”

You couldn’t help it, you moaned around his cock, long and half feral, the vibrations making John’s eyes roll back.

Still your fingers fucked into him, stretching and pushing towards a pleasure that John wouldn’t have believed was possible, and then you hit a sweet spot inside him that made his back arch off the bed.

“Right there,” he gasped out, eyes squeezed shut, his body trembling. “Right there, that’s it, right there, right there. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please.”

”I won’t, I won’t. I’ve got you, sweet boy.”

He took himself in his hand again, squeezing and tugging. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Seeing John like this, completely at your mercy, his mind completely disconnected from his body, it made your belly twist. He was completely yours, this was all just for you.

John cried out, begging you to go faster, so you did, and his hand sped up to match your thrusts. He squirmed against you, rocking his hips so he was practically bouncing on your fingers now.

“Ohhh, love,” You beamed against his bony hip. “You gonna cum like this, baby boy? With my fingers inside you?”

John half moaned, half laughed, almost in disbelief.

“God, I fucking am. Love, I’m-”

You leaned over him to brush his hair back from his damp forehead and kissed him softly, only slowing your thrusting fingers so that you could crook them inside him.

“C’mon, love. C’mon, Johnny, cum for me.”

Always so eager to please. Your only warning was one last sharp jerk of his hips before he suddenly came with another broken moan. It sent a jolt of white-hot desire curling in the pit of your stomach.

John’s grip on your hips was so tight, he was sure to have left bruises, and all the while he whimpered and called your name, his face flushed and pink.

Feeling just as breathless, you kissed and kissed him until John’s body slowly collapsed under you. You carefully drew back your fingers, just barely biting back a moan when John weakly protested.

He pulled you close, but it wasn’t enough, so - still gasping and buzzing with pleasure - John carefully guided your arms out from under you so that you had to lay on top of him, your bodies completely intertwined.

“You’re-” John kissed you lazily, his mind still somewhere out past Saturn. “That was amazing. You’re so beautiful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He barely knew what he was saying, he just had to let you know that you’d made him feel more than he ever thought possible. He couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else other than right here, right now.

Content and warm, you buried your face in his neck, catching your breath as John dragged his hands up and down your back.

“You were so good, John. Thank you for letting me take care of you.”

He smiled. He couldn’t believe you were thanking him. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He couldn’t believe crossing the road to see about a job had led him to this. In bed with you, just before dawn, sweaty and sticky and exhausted and gasping for breath, John felt like he’d finally found the home he’d been looking for all his life.

“Yeah, well, it’s your turn next, sweetheart. Give me two minutes and I’ll do the same for you.”

“Just two? Look at you.”

“You’re very inspiring, what can I say.”

You smiled against his skin, pressing your thighs together at the thought.

You considered getting up to open the window and let in some fresh, cooling air. You wanted to help John get cleaned up before the next round. More than that, you wanted to lay back and let him kiss down your body, till he’d seen to the mess he’d made.

You kissed him again, slow and languid. There was no need to rush. You had all the time in the world.

/

The bakery was alive again.

Like a pot set to boil slowly, incrementally over time, you hadn’t realised how anaemic the place had become until it was too late. Almost too late. With Alastair gone and the summer at its peak, 64 Oslo Square was back to its former glory, a shining jewel at the far end of Kensington High Street.

You kneaded dough with motions you knew by heart. There was a rhyme and rhythm to it, a particular push of your hands, a drag of your fingers, a dig with the heels of your palms.

You rolled the dough between your hands, forming and shaping it like a potter at their wheel, until it was the perfect consistency to divide and drop into proofing baskets.

There was music in the air. Mickey’s old radio oozed out Diana Ross, Tony Orlando, Free and Bowie, and he sang along to every word. How he knew them all by heart, you’d never know, but he never skipped a beat.

Equally vocal was John. He was leaning against the kitchen island, where he was supposed to be making butter cream. Instead, he had his head in the book he’d just bought, a textbook he’d need for his second year. He’d been reading out passages he thought were particularly interesting, and you and Mickey had been trying your best to humour him.

John recited a particularly convoluted paragraph, and Mickey actually laughed at how ridiculously complex it sounded.

“Hang on, say that one more time?”

You brushed off the flour from your hands, watching it cascade through the air like gold dust in the morning sunlight.

“Yeah, no, sorry, sweetheart. You’ve lost us.”

John turned the book around and held it up so that you could see the page he was reading from.

“Here, have a look!”

“My love, that might as well be written in Greek for all the sense it makes to me.”

“Well, some of it is Greek. It’s Physics.”

Behind you, meticulously icing fruit tarts, Mickey snorted.

You shot John a wry look.

“Well, I walked into that one.”

John turned the book back to face him.

You watched him with a fond smile, then pushed the loaves you’d made into the oven.

He got this look on his face when he was talking about his studies. John was completely in his element. All the nervousness and shyness dissipated when there was simple, honest, unconditional science to talk about.

He shrugged, shutting the thick book with a heavy snap.

“I know it’s boring-”

“It’s not boring, John, I just think it’s wasted on us.”

“Don’t be daft, you’re the smartest person I know.”

“Ta!” Mickey chimed in.

You ignored him, though it was nice to see Mickey so cheery. The last few months had been hard for all of you, but he had a family to worry about, a newborn, a mortgage. Now Alastair’s heavy chains had dropped from your ankles, the bakery was making enough for you all to live a little more easily, and Mickey had started to whistle again, bright and cheery and carefree.

While the bread proved, you set about preparing tomorrow’s croissants.

“The smartest person you know besides you, you mean,” you said to John, picking up the conversation again while you went to grab the right ingredients.

“Well, what else am I here for? Aren’t I the brains?” John smiled. “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

Grinning now, you tapped his thigh as you passed by.

“Don’t forget the legs.”

“I thought that was you?”

“Ohh, someone woke up in a good mood.”

“Wonder why.”

John reached out and tried to pinch your hip but you just slipped out of reach.

Plunking flour, eggs and sugar down on the metal counter, you took a deep breath before falling into the pattern of a lifetime. It was all second nature by now, like the steps of a dance or the words to a favourite song. You’d never forget the moves for as long as you lived, you could probably make them blindfolded, with one arm tied behind your back. It was good to be back.

“C’mon then,” You nodded to the textbook in John’s hands. “What else you got? Anything that’ll get you mixing faster?”

John huffed, lifting himself up to perch on the edge of the counter.

“It’s thanks to this book that you even have a mixer.”

“Oi, watch it, New Boy. I’m your boss, remember.”

John grinned at you across the island. It was an almost challenging look. Come shut me up. Come kiss me. I know you want to.

“Can bosses get the sack for fraternising with the staff?”

Startled, you looked over your shoulder at Mickey. You’d almost forgotten you weren’t alone in the kitchen with John.

Mickey tugged a cigarette down from where it had been tucked behind his ear and flicked it up, catching it in his mouth just to show off. He raised his eyebrows at you, then at John.

“I only ask cos I got an earful this morning I’m not gonna forget in an ‘urry. It’d do me a favour if you were legally obligated to never, ever do that again. At least while I’m in earshot.”

Cheeks burning, you refused to look at John.

Images of that morning flashed through your mind.

You had to be up early to get the bakery warmed up, and John needed to get on his stupid bike and make his rounds. You’d flung out a sleep-heavy arm to silence your alarm, and in the time it took you to draw it back under the warmth and safety of the covers, John had moved on top of you.

Between soft, slow, drowsy kisses, he lazily slipped inside you, dragging his hips back and forward against yours as you gasped into his mouth.

You came clinging to his back, your ankles hooked around his hips, his tongue in your mouth and your name in his throat.

When you came downstairs together. Mickey had already started warming up the ovens. You had paused, momentarily startled. Mickey was early for once. But you brushed your surprise away and slipped on an easy smile. There was no way he would've been able to hear you, and there were a hundred perfectly innocent reasons why John could’ve been upstairs with you.

Idiot.

“Oh,” You pulled a face, aiming for apologetic and ending up at awkward. “Sorry, Mickey.”

He just laughed and headed out into the alley for his smoke break.

Turning to John, you grimaced.

“Whoops.”

Looking about as embarrassed as you felt, he held out his hand to you. John guided you around the counter until you were standing between his knees, his hands immediately resting on your hips like it was second nature.

“Alright, so your walls are thinner than we thought. Lesson learnt.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so noisy.”

“Me!” John laughed. “Can I take you out tonight?”

“Depends. Where you taking me?”

“Thought we could go to the pictures? Get some dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.” You kissed the tip of his nose. “And your electric stuff is very cool, John. I was only teasing you.”

Smiling like a cat curled up in front of the fire, John squeezed your hips reassuringly.

“I know.”

“Not just a pretty face, eh?”

John looked sheepish.

“Well, you know, you’re always saying-”

You kissed him once, twice, then his nose again.

“You’re very pretty.”

“No…”

John barely put up a fight. It was hard enough arguing with you at the best of times, he could barely concentrate when you were so close, your floury hands cupping his face, your lips so close to his.

“Yes! Twice as pretty as Roger.”

John let his head grow heavy, relaxing completely until all that supported him were your hands under his jaw. While you giggled at his exhausted expression, John shook his head

“Now you’re just being silly.”

Your heart felt so full, it threatened to spill over.

There had been a small worry, so small it barely warranted entertaining, right in the back of your mind. It liked to remind you that the dynamics of your relationship with John had forever shifted.

What if things felt different now? Under these new parameters, there would be no more longing looks across the bakery, no dancing and stumbling around each other, no more tension and uncertainty. What if the sudden expectations and roles made things awkward?

A smaller, even stupider part of your brain had even been afraid that John would wake up and - in the cold, harsh light of the morning - decide he'd changed his mind.

That particular worry was extinguished almost as quickly as it sprang into life. When John hooked one long, slim leg through yours and moaned into your mouth that you were absolutely perfect, you could have laughed at yourself for ever worrying if your mouth hadn’t been full of his name, then his tongue.

But no, here, alone in the kitchen where you came to know each other, looking and smiling at each other like you were the only two people in the world, you knew nothing good had changed. It made you wonder just how long you’d belonged to each other without knowing it.

“I mean it!” You laughed softly when you brushed your hand over his cheek and John pretended to nip at your fingertips. “You’ve got pretty eyes…”

You kissed a spot under both of his eyes, right on the apple of John’s cheeks. His smile pressed into your palms

“And pretty hair…”

“You’re so odd, love.”

“And nice eyebrows…”

John laughed, making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“My eyebrows are nice?”

“And you’ve got a great nose…” You kissed it to prove a point, then grazed your fingertip along the outline of his bottom lip. “I love your funny little mouth.”

John raised his eyebrows.

“What’s so funny about my mouth?”

“Nothing!”

“My mouth works just fine, thank you.”

You grinned.

“I’m well aware.”

Shaking his head slightly, his cheeks tinged pink, John asked,

“You really think I’m pretty?”

“I really do, John.”

“I think you’re pretty too. I think you’re beautiful.”

John smiled softly as you leaned in to kiss him, and you could still feel him smiling against your mouth as you tilted his head back with one finger under his jaw.

He pulled you closer, his hands on the backs of your thighs at first, before they slid up and bunched up your apron.

You had half a mind to pull away and check over your shoulder, just to make sure Mickey wasn’t about to walk in on you. You could hear Gladys a mile away, so you didn’t have to worry about her catching you, but you’d never live it down if Mickey had to bleach his eyes as well as his ears.

John brushed his nose against yours sweetly, his eyes half-lidded and heavy. He was so handsome when he was like this, all relaxed and confident and putty in your hands.

“That thing you did,” he said quietly. “Last night.”

You hummed, only half listening as you leaned down to kiss him again.

“Think you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I don’t think I do.”

John raised his eyebrows and you bit back a smile, feeling somehow simultaneously sheepish and proud of yourself.

You’d been waiting for him to bring it up, but when he didn’t say anything last night or this morning, you wondered if maybe he didn’t like it. His body certainly reacted positively, but sometimes there was a disconnect, a barrier, between what was felt physically and what was felt emotionally.

“Is that something you’ve done before?”

“Maybe.” Though your cheeks burned, you kept up your grin, never wanting to give away just how much John flustered you. “Or maybe I just saw you there, all wet and desperate, and couldn’t help myself.”

John’s eyes widened a fraction, like he couldn’t believe you would dare to say something so outrageous within a few feet of your colleagues and countless hungry customers.

Bending his head, he let his forehead rest against your chest, his hands tense on your hips.

“You’re terrible,” he grumbled, the sound muffled against your apron.

You couldn’t resist, you slipped your fingers into his thick hair, combing it through and playing with the odd curl.

He really was so wonderful, a ridiculous mix of pretty boy and handsome mechanic. There wasn’t anything John Deacon couldn’t do. He played every part so well without ever not being himself, and he was all yours.

“Did you like it?” you asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

John quietly huffed.

“I think that was fairly obvious.”

“Because we could do it again. And more, if you like.”

John raised his head.

“More?”

You kept your hand in his hair, grazing and tugging his curls around your fingers. It kept you grounded, kept you from pulling back and changing the subject and apologising for even asking. It wasn’t exactly embarrassing, just a lot to say out loud, especially with John looking at you like that.

“Yeah, you know…” You shrugged, fighting back a smile and losing. “I could use more than just my fingers.”

“Oh.” John’s eyes widened a fraction but that was all he gave away. “Would you… Want to?”

“Yes. Would you like that?”

“Yes.”

The tension between you was building again, a push me, pull you of daring looks and lingering touches, toeing the line a little more with every word passed between you.

“I…” John opened his mouth, closed it again, then said, “I trust you with me.”

There was a flicker of nervousness in his grey eyes but no hesitancy, no uncertainty.

Even just thinking about it left your mouth feeling dry, and from the way John’s fingers tightened on the backs of your thighs, threatening to slip up under your dress and beyond, he was thinking about it too.

“Still can’t really believe it,” he said softly.

“Well, you know, it’s not that uncommon. You’d be surpri-”

“No, I mean,” John laughed softly and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Can’t believe I’m here. With you.”

“Oh!” With a grin you brushed back his hair and tucked it behind his ear for him. “Well, I’m very glad you decided to stick around, New Boy. Well, not so new anymore.”

John hummed and leant his head in your hands again, nuzzling his cheek against your palms.

He’d gone all soft on you. You tried to pinpoint exactly when that could have happened, but came up empty. He’d always been sweet but recently, perhaps over the last few weeks, John had shown a vulnerability that he’d hidden behind clever words and smiles.

When did give himself over to you? Welcoming him into your little family had done wonders for John’s confidence, giving him somewhere that he felt safe and secure, where he had a set role and no doubt that he belonged.

But when had he become yours? When you were one of six people in the crowd to see his band play? When you took him into your home and patched him up, offering him love and comfort and a warm place to sleep? Or maybe it had been immediate, when you sent a stranger home with food just because he looked cold and hungry? Or maybe it was only recently. Maybe seeing how his friends welcomed you into his own odd little family had been the final nail.

Running your fingers through his soft hair, you knew you wouldn’t ever know when this started, when John had solidified himself in your life, but you were oh so very glad that he did.

The bakery door opened. You barely registered it, just a faint chime in the back of your head. You almost, almost ignored it. But something about the sound sent goosebumps shivering up your arms and down your back. Something told you to look up and pay attention.

Through the kitchen doorway, you could hear familiar voices. The same customers came by every day, or weekly, you knew them all by heart. They knew you as you knew them. There was a warmth there, a rare connection for this part of the city.

One voice, cold and discordant, cut through the rest like a bow pulled too sharply across violin strings.

Without taking your eyes off the kitchen doorway, you squeezed John’s hands, then gently let them go.

“Hang on, love.”

Heart thudding, you made it to the doorway just in time to catch Alastair moving round the counter towards Gladys.

Immediately, a coppery taste rose under your tongue, like blood, adrenaline. Your hands balled into fists and you didn’t know if you were afraid or furious or just shocked, but you froze in the doorway, unable to move any part of you apart from your wide eyes.

“Gladys, love,” Alastair smiled like an anglerfish as he drew closer. “You have to give me another chance. I was just trying to do what’s best for you.”

The bakery door closed behind the last customer, you caught the movement out of the corner of your eye. The shop was empty, apart from one woman, seated at a table in the corner, busy fussing over her baby.

“You’re being ridiculous, love. You know I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. I just want to help-”

“Alastair.”

You stopped him with his hand raised in the air, reaching out to Gladys, fingers curled inwards like claws. The big bad wolf.

“What the hell are you doing here.”

Alastair slowly dragged his gaze away from his target. His lip curled in irritation, almost like you bored him. You were just something to scrape off the bottom of his custom-made Italian leather shoes.

The sound of his name caught John’s attention. You felt his chest against your back but he didn’t touch you, just kept close, keeping watch but never interfering. Still, it meant there was now another man in the room, and Alastair’s attitude shifted accordingly.

He straightened his long back, pulled back his hand and tucked it behind him. His mouth shifted into something more friendly but his eyes he had less control over. They stayed cold and steady and fixed on you.

“There you are.” He tried to smile but didn’t understand the mechanics. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot, darling. But now everything’s out in the open, I really think we can come to some kind of agreement. I mean, you’re sitting on a goldmine here, sweetheart.”

Behind you, John scowled.

“Don’t call her that.”

Alastair pretended not to hear him.

“You don’t even know what you have here.”

You caught Gladys’ eye. This place was just as much her home as it was yours, if not more so. She bought a tiny corner of a bomb-stricken street, fixed it up, loved it into living, and filled it with good things to feed her community.

Until recently, until Alastair, she’d never had a day off, she’d never called in sick, she never complained or argued or admitted defeat. The fire that burned in her had been dampened but never snuffed out, and now it was back, roaring and clawing past the bars of its cage. And she’d passed it on to you.

“I do, actually,” you said, and Gladys smiled.

Alastair laughed drily, humourlessly, and there was no doubt that he thought you were beyond stupid, that you were all beneath him, that he understood the world better than any of you ever could.

“Honey, in ten years, this city is going to look completely different.”

He took a step towards you and you felt John tense.

“Twenty, thirty years down the line, this space will be worth triple what she bought it for. More than that. If you give it to me, I can talk to the right people, I can get you a good deal. Sweetheart, I can make you rich.”

“Alastair, I’ve been waitin’ a long time to say this: get the fuck ou’ of my bakery.”

Frantic now, he turned his gaze to John.

“You, you’re the boyfriend, right? Can you talk some sense into your girl? She’ll listen to you. You’re a smart bloke, I can tell. You can see what they can’t, right? C’mon, you and me, we know we can’t leave decisions like this up to- Well, a couple of girls playing business. We both know it’s too much for them.”

“Skip asked you to leave,” John said, terse and stern. ”Much more politely than you deserve.”

When Mickey came to see what was going on, Alastair took a step backwards. A smart move but not nearly quick enough.

Without a word from any of you, Mickey immediately understood what was happening and knew what the situation demanded.

Alastair raised his hands, his warped smile trembling at the corners. He shrank back as Mickey made his way towards him.

“Michael,” He shook his head, his cold eyes darting everywhere. “Michael, you-”

“Oh, mate.” Mickey grabbed Alastair by the scruff of his spotless jacket. “You’ve just made my day.”

Struggling against Mickey’s grip, Alastair cried out to Gladys, his hands wrapped uselessly around the much larger one dragging him out the front door.

Together, you watched Mickey throw Alastair onto the pavement, ruining his nice suit and removing him from your lives forever.

You looked up when you felt John slip his fingers through yours. Drawing in a soothing breath, you squeezed his hand back.

“Well,” Gladys turned to you with a smile. “I think I’ll stick the kettle on. Anyone want a brew?”

//

Master List

[punkeropercyjackson]

Bluepunk(Familial Hobie and Percy)headcanons

Percy is an afro-dominican third gen inmigrant New Yorker and Hobie is jamaican-english and was born and raised in Camden Town

Percy is transfem bigender and uses she/he/they and a hoard of neos(including blue/blues,sea/seas and cookie/cookies ofc)and Hobie is transmasc unlabeled and dosen't care about pronouns as long as you switch up instead of staying consistent

They're autistic and can't mask and have never been able to and are on the same ends of the spectrum even besides that

They even look almost the exact same too with the only real differences-which aren't even easy to tell-is Percy's sea green eyes and Hobie's dark brown eyes and Hobie's 6'5 to Percy's 6'4.Percy's got dreads and different kinds of piercings but Hobie's wicks being a similar hairstyle dosen't help in telling them apart at all

This,in addition to many other things,is because they're Variants of eachother the same way Gwen and Gayatri are!Percy is Earth 27 Spiderpunk and not relevant rn but Earth 137 Hobie is the Son of Poseidon

Percy is 22 and Hobie's a good deal younger and that with the rest of the Spiderband being explicitly teenagers means Spidermomdad Percy.He's close to the whole team and is their mentor but Hobie and him met eachother first so they have a special connection and i was gonna say something about Percy being like Hobie's weird ass uncle but then i remembered Hobie's a Spiderperson so i shan't risk it

Similarly to Miles and Miles G,this bond leads to them becoming interdimensional siblings despite technically being Variants.Eldest sister and oldest younger brother typa energy

Hobie has adultification trauma through a mix of shitty older brothers,no positive adult figures as a kid except his mom who due to complex circumstances couldn't help him as much as either of them wanted to and dissapeared when he was 12(not dead btw but he thinks she is),his deadbeat dad and the dystopian world he origins from and Percy's Canon Event was Sally dying when he was 12 too so that left him with Smelly Gabe and 7 year old Nico and 6 year old Hazel leaving him no choice but to self-parentify for survival and protection of his younger siblings so they balance out by Percy giving Hobie special treatment and encouraging him to be vulnerable and he gets her to feel 22,not 32 by bringing her goofy and emotional sides back out rather than just fake unbotheredness on both sides

Hobie is Peter Pan,Percy is Wendy(Matching names + I do not care for Peter and Wendy as a romantic ship)and Percy is Perseo,Hobie is Perseus(iykyk)

Hobie teaches Percy how to play guitar and hers is covered in cutesy stickers,ranging from cat themed motivational ones to video game ones and ovbs the dominican and trans flags too

Percy taught him how to surf and Hobie's surfboard is an almost black blue with white shark designs.They have diy'd matching Spiderpunk themed swimsuits that blend in through superhero logic

They have the same taste in music-Punk rock obvs but also heavy metal,rap,hipop and jazz

Hobie loves leaning onto Percy/having his arms hung around her shoulders from behind and her head tucked under his chin/holding hands with her/etc.Love is stored in the Hobie <3

Percy learned to make jamaican food but in blue to make Hobie eat it since her latina pseudo-mom ass wouldn't stand for him staying that scrawny and half dead looking(Nico flashbacks though).His favorite kind is it's sea food

I am just.Keep picturing Percy giving Hobie a big sisterly smooch on his forehead and him walking around with a blue lipstick mark on it

Hobie does the same back but his lipstick is black

Girlypop Percy,Edgecase Hobie.Solidarity and bonding and sharing

Percy has a Gwen Stacy Variant who's Ghostspider and Earth 27's Anomaly because of this and his childhood best friend who's afrolatina and autistic like him and pastel punk like 65 Gwen but dosen't share a namesake with her!They're officially together for a long time by Atsv and Hobie pokes fun at him over them all the time even pre actual meeting

They love fucking with Miguel together and Percy in particular gets on his nerves since she encouraged Hobie to even more and taught him new ways to.Lyla has a whole photo album of them pissing him off and Jessica only pretends to try to stop them because she also thinks it's hilarious.She hangs out with them whenever they can all find time to too!!!She brought Percy into Spider Society and she reminds her of Sally :')

Spidermutt and Mrs O'Leary have playdates

They're pretty much unoficially mission partners and Riri hacked their watches so they give false info to Miguel's database

Hobie calls Percy 'Sea Wees' like the kinds of mermaid dolls and Percy calls Hobie 'Cachorro' because it's spanish for Puppy(If y'all make nsfw jokes about this I Will Fucking Get You,i call my littlest brother that)

[evita-shelby]

The best forgotten birthday

For @justrainandcoffee and their wonderful oc, Rose Coldwell-Solomons 🖤🖤

Cw: drinking

“What do you mean nothing?” Rose had asked when the reading didn’t show what she wanted to know.

“No gift, no party, not even a whiff of it in the readings.” The witch shuffled her cards once more and this time put them back inside their case. “Tommy’s busy tomorrow evening, has a business meeting in town, do you want to do something fun?”

If Alfie has the audacity to forget his wife’s birthday, Eva will make damn sure Rose Coldwell-Solomons has the best night ever at his expense.

She knows her fairly well and Eva knows partying like she knows the cards. This was going to be fun.

“Beats doing nothing at home.” The Queen of Camden town pouts at the disappointment from having her loving husband forget her birthday.

It was very unlike Solomons, as strange as if Tommy would forget hers.

Rose comes dressed to the nines and does not know why the chauffer balks at the idea of Mrs. Shelby driving herself anywhere and asks that she drive instead. So what if Eva crashed a few vehicles?

It is fun, even as they try to keep things proper and pretend Eva’s not feeling the hurt Rose feels thanks to her lack of inhibition at the moment.

“You know what I haven’t done in some time?” Rose begins to open up after they leave one of Tommy’s clubs where no one knows her.

The witch knows what she means, the last time Eva did that she ended up fucking Tommy after trashing his hotel room instead of telling him the Italians were coming after them. Its been so long since she’s gotten drunk without impending doom.

“Did you know some tequilas are kosher?” the witch motions of the waitress to bring that very special tequila Tommy always makes sure they have in stock.

Tommy has been told that his witch has gone out with Alfie’s wife and even worse, implied to have been driving the two of them.

Rose is a good driver; he knows that because in the outings she and Eva have, she is always driving.

Eva is a shit driver.

She is great at everything else, but God had not graced her with the ability to drive.

Tommy is very relieved to know that the officer calling him about her isn’t saying they are calling because she crashed. Frankly, the gangster turned politician preferred her to be in jail for the night than know she was behind a wheel.

Eva’s permitted to speak to him and in her drunken stupor, she giggles and laughs and flirts with him in ways she would be caught dead doing it sober. If the officer had not stopped her, the witch would’ve tried to fuck him through the telephone as they always do when either of them are away.

“Nice to know Mrs. Shelby still has her fire.” Solomons has a shit eating grin when he arrives at the station to bail out his wife.

“I never forget her birthdays.” Tommy replied dryly and tried not to lose his patience with the man.

“I didn’t fucking forget! Had a surprise for her, that’s all.” Alfie sighs dramatically in his own defense and lays the blame on someone else. “I thought your old ball and chain knew everything? It’s her fault my Rosie thinks I forgot her birthday!”

“Eva is not infallible.” Tommy stresses her name to show his dislike of the words he used. “There are things that even the universe cannot tell her or won’t for shits and giggles.”

“Like getting my wife drunk out of her mind on her birthday and calling me a prick for forgetting it.” Solomons pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve the headache Eva had caused.

Shelby would be lying if he wasn’t proud of his wife’s antics tonight. Causing Solomons some discomfort was always fine with him.

Its not long until the Policewoman comes escorting their unusually drunk wives out of a cell. They are chatting and laughing loudly with the other women held up as if they were friends, someone even goes as far as wishing Alfie a good kick in the nuts for it.

Even if Eva is suggesting they try swinging or a foursome and Rose in hysterics because her husband had a surprise for her the entire time, the women had their fun which is all that matters at the end of night.

[domesticated-feral]

for @rhyslahey 's prompt from @teenwolfholidayfest

Isaac & Camden, Scott/Isaac, Rated Teen, 2,288 words

Summary:

Camden is back from the army for christmas. Isaac brings Scott over for dinner. Isaac had never told Camden that he was dating Scott.

[fuckyeah-dragrace]

Snowed In

I would like to thank @junosjukebox and @themetaluna for creating this winter fanfic exchange and letting me be a part of it, in incredibly honored to have been a part of it 😁

This is for @puppywritesthings happy holidays so enjoy some camsco!! you can find it on ao3 here as well!

Bosco knew that not everyone was going to like her and she wasn't going to like everyone either. It's just a fact. But they didn't think that their roommate, someone they'd spend every day with would be one of those people. So what happens when they're snowed in and stuck together? Will it bring them closer or tear them apart?

Bosco sat on the couch in the apartment, watching the snowfall before sighing, getting up from the couch and checking her phone. “Expect 10 inches of snow, yeah right. Fucking weathermen.” She scoffed, pocketing her phone before heading back to her room. Across from them, she could hear Camden. She could always hear Camden. She rolled her eyes and closed her door, some would say slam but it just had a little force behind it, and flopped down onto her bed. Just a week and then finals and then she was home free. A whole month without thinking about shitty professors, stupid assignments and most of all, no more of that bloody ginger bitch.

God she could rant for hours about that girl, Daya would know since she was always at the receiving end. Bosco sighed into their pillow, rubbing her tense jaw to try and relax. She’s lost enough sleep over that fucking girl, she doesn’t deserve any more. Thank god she’s moving in with Daya and Willow after the semester’s over, all her headaches will be gone and she can have some damn peace. Maybe it’s wrong for her to be so hateful of the girl but everything she did just ticked them off, like under that bubbly side she knew every one of her buttons and how to push them to drive her up the wall.

They matched up on the school’s compatibility survey and they messaged each other, figuring that they’d be decent enough and signed the lease for the apartment off campus. Everything was fine the first few weeks, maybe even the first month of the semester. In all honesty, Bosco was just happy to finally get out of those vile dorms and could shower in complete privacy without worrying about someone screaming about her simply cleaning themselves. And no more stupid fucking fire drills and walking down fifteen flights of fucking stairs in the cold. 

When they met on move in day, Bosco didn’t think there would be any issue. She was a dancer for campus so she’d be out of the house a lot for rehearsals and performance and what not which was fine, great actually so they could have the place to herself. The first night they were all settled in, they talked about rules and everything seemed pretty great. They agreed on almost everything and what they didn’t they were able to compromise on, smooth sailing. In the beginning both of them were cautious and careful of treading on each other's spaces, always texting if they could borrow a towel or politely turn down the music. Everything was going great and Bosco was happy, maybe they could actually be friends or something.

But then the honeymoon phase wore off and oh boy…

It was like a switch flipped and everything just got turned on its head. Camden would wake up with the damn birds and it was everyone’s business to know that she was awake, what with her blaring the damn Spice Girls while making her morning tea. She never put away her dishes or hung up her towels and left her laundry in her hamper until it was bursting at the seams, don’t even get her started on how many fucking times they’ve nearly broken their ankles on that damn dance bag. And the fact that she would just rearrange the furniture in the living, claiming she needed the space to rehearse after Bosco had just fixed it after the last time. 

Needless to say, they were livid.

So she paid it right back to her. She waited until the last second to do chores, cranked the AC and heat no matter what she whined about and brought all the girls back she wanted to. That was the one that really got the redhead, waking up still early as ever and looking much less rested than usual while they sat there with their neck covered in hickeys and whatever chick she picked up from the bar was hanging off her side. That one really seemed to grind the British girl's gears, huffing and muttering under her breath as she stomped off to her room to hide.

They would get into so many arguments and just scream at each other, it was a miracle they hadn’t gotten more complaints from their neighbors about it. The one thing they had in common was their stubbornness. Neither one of them was going to back down and give in until the other did which would never happen, creating such a hostile cycle their supposed home was its own separate battlefield.

She turned over in their bed again, pulling up the covers as the wind picked up outside, throwing white flurries around without a care in the world. The snow was starting to come down harder… surely it’ll be nothing. The most they’d gotten was barely two inches, there’s no way they’d get more than 4, maybe 6 if she was really pushing it. They yawned and curled into her pillow, eyes growing heavy as they fell into a dreamless sleep.

“Bosco!”

Shit. She groaned, rubbing their bleary eyes before sitting up in their bed. It was too fucking early for this. What the hell was she screaming about already? She got up, albeit slowly and not in the rush her roommate's voice told her she should be in, putting on her robe before stepping out of her room. “Good morning to you too, Annie.”

Camden huffed, standing in just her pajama pants and a baby tee that barely covered her chest. Thank goodness she was crossing her arms cause they did not want to see that this early in the morning. “Look outside.”

“Really? That’s why you woke me up? To look out the damn window.” 

“Just look.”

Bosco huffed and muttered some choice words under her breath before looking out the front window of their apartment. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah holy shit.” She scoffed. Outside, all they could see was white. Snow was piled high, completely covering her car in their parking space. She went to the door and unlocked it, trying to push it open but failed. She tried a few more times before Camden piped up. “Lose all your muscles or something?”

“It won’t open.”

“I can see that. Here, let me do it.”

“Please, if we’re talking about muscles then you aren’t one to talk.” She huffed, getting away from the door and watching the redhead put all her weight on the door. It didn’t move a single inch and Camden flushed in embarrassment, turning around to face Bosco’s look of ‘I told you so’.

 “So…”

“We’re snowed in.” They said flatly. “Great.” 

Perfect. Just perfect. This is exactly how she wanted to be spending her weekend. They ran a hand through her dark hair, trying to come up with a plan or some sort of escape route that wasn’t clawing out her damn eyes. “I’m going to check on the breaker and sinks. It’s cold out so we might have to run them so the pipes don't freeze.”

Camden nodded. “I’ll make sure to stay out of your way.” It didn’t have her normal bite most of their exchanges did and it confused them to a degree but she nodded, the two of them splitting up and going their separate ways. 

It could’ve been worse. They still had electricity, which was a damn miracle with these ancient ass apartments the school provided. Water was all good and they got a notification from campus, advising them to stay where they were and not go out. “No shit Sherlock.” They rolled their eyes walking back to the living room and seeing Camden sitting on the couch, looking stressed as she bounced her knee nervously. She looked over to Bosco and got up with an elegance only a dancer could for such a simple action. “How bad is it?”

“We’ve got power and water so we should be fine. Campus put out a message saying they’re sending out plows based on priorities so we’re probably going to be stuck here a while.” They said nonchalantly, heading to the kitchen as if it were just a normal day.

“Did they say how long it could be?” She urged, following behind the brunette.

“It’ll be hours, maybe even tomorrow.” They guessed, popping a keurig cup into the machine as they waited for the water to heat. That made the redhead tense up. A whole day? That was too long, there’s no way they would be stuck in here for an entire day. The machine finished dropping the black liquid into their mug and nearly immediately Bosco drank, hissing a little at the burn but swallowing. She noticed Camden still standing there, looking like she was about to blow a fuse. “Well I’m heading back to bed.”

“Bed? But-”

“Look,” their voice sharp as she turned around to face them. “I’ll stay in my room unless I absolutely need something so don’t worry, I won’t get up in your business if you don’t get in mine, deal?” Camden was left in silence, a little taken aback at how straightforward and calm she was being considering the fact they were literally trapped inside! The dark haired girl took her silence as agreement before nodding. “Great, good talk.” They smiled with a faux politeness before turning on their heels and marching themselves back into their room, closing the door with a little force to punctuate their earlier comments.

She stood there in stunned silence before following her roommates lead, heading back to her own room. Camden fell back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. It’s alright, everything’s going to be alright. It’s just a little snow. 

The day passed by and soon it was night, no snow plow ever came and the both of them were avoiding each other, just a typical day for them. Camden had three blankets wrapped around her under the comforter and was still shivering. She huffed and sat up. She knew Bosco must be freezing too, if anything a little less since they were always a furnace. She bit her lip and weighed her options before getting up, her fluffiest blanket wrapped around her and she opened her door, walking quickly across the hall and before she could even knock, the door opened to Bosco standing in the doorway.

The dark haired girl scanned her up and down, dressed in a baggy shirt and pants. “You cold too?”

“What do you think?” She quipped, managing to get her teeth to not chatter.

“Can we turn up the heat?”

“Yeah if you want to foot the bill.”

The redhead huffed. “Fine then. Make room.”

“Wha-” Before they could even finish, the redhead shouldered past her and into their room, plopping down on their bed and looking at her with her chin tilted up like she owned the damn place. “The hell are you doing?”

“Obviously we’re not turning up the heat so I’m staying warm with a demon from hell.” She got under their covers and Bosco could feel their eyes twitch. This fucking bitch..

“Fine.” They smiled politely before getting into bed with her. They grabbed a pillow and shoved it between them and Camden scoffed. “Really, a pillow wall?”

“You’re in my room, ballerina.” They looked over their shoulder at her. “My rules. Pillow wall or walk your happy ass back to your room.” Camden huffed and pulled her blanket up higher, turning away from Bosco. “Exactly.” They smirked before laying back down, facing away from her and sighing. It was going to be a long night.

They had about an hour of quiet and were just about to fall asleep when she heard Camden shift in the bed. “Bosco? Are you up?”

They groaned, eyes still closed. “I am now. What?”

“I’m freezing.”

“Go turn on the heat then.”

Camden groaned, not making any move to get up though. “Not everyone’s a demon that can heat an entire room.” The redhead snarked, glaring over the pillow between them.

“Oh please.” Bosco laughed without any humor. “If you’re trying to insult me, actually say something that’s hurtful, you tutu wearing bitch.” Camden grit her teeth and threw the pillow that was separating them right at Bosco’s face. 

Oh it was on. 

Both of them were throwing whatever they could grab at each other, all in a frenzy of anger before it all stilled when Camden felt hands holding down her wrists. She tried to squirm underneath her but Bosco’s hands had her pinned down, sitting on her hips and limiting her movement there as well. Both of them were glaring up at each other, panting and chests heaving before the anger and tension bled into… something else. As Bosco’s heart slowed they leaned down closer, dark curls falling in her face as she watched Camden’s eyes flit between her eyes and her lips. They were barely a breath away from each other when Bosco stopped, watching the redhead squirm again.

“Bosco.” She whispered, voice close to begging but she would never admit that.

“You still want that heater on?” They grinned, giggling a little bit as Camden rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile barely.

“You’re such a bitch, you know that?” There wasn’t any venom behind her words this time, only a tenderness they’d never shared before and god did it make her chest warm and fuzzy.

“That’s why you like me.”

“Who said that?” The brit cocked a brow, making both of them laugh before Bosco closed the distance, finally letting their lips touch. It wasn’t a hungry kiss but it was full of desire and wanting on both ends. Things started to click now, why Camden was so jealous every time Bosco brought someone home and why Bosco couldn’t stand the thought of Camden having any of her dancer friends over as they would always flirt with each other.

They pulled apart slowly and smiled at each other before Bosco laid back down, wrapping her arms around Camden as the redhead did the same, both of them pressing their bodies closer to each other as if their skin could fuse into one. Camden hummed and nuzzled into Boscos neck, relishing in the warmth. “Maybe I should come here more often. You are hotter than hell, in both ways.”

They laughed and pecked her forehead, pulling the covers over them tighter. “Why thank you, princess. I actually do like those tutus on you.”

“Because you can see all of my ass when I bend down.” She giggled, pecking her cheek. She sighed, looking out the window and smiling at the snow. “We should’ve done this a long time ago.”

“Definitely.” Bosco smiled. “But those arguments were kinda hot if you think about it.”

Camden giggled and nudged their shoulder. “Honestly! You’re a crazy woman.”

“Hey, I’m not denying it.” Bosco snickered, rubbing her back. It was all so sudden but so natural at the same time, like they were always supposed to be like this, holding each other and giggling and laughing together. They talked for a few more hours, laughing and exchanging more kisses under the blankets as the sky grew darker and then lighter, the sun starting to come up. 

Camden saw out the window and giggled. “Maybe getting snowed in isn’t so bad after all.” 

“Maybe not.” Bosco smiled, kissing her again before yawning. “Now it’s definitely time for some sleep.”

“Right.” Camden giggled, pecking their lips one last time before cozying up into her arms again. If you told her that she would ever end up cuddling with Bosco and liking it, she would’ve laughed in your face. Bosco would’ve called you crazy but it was perfect, better than anything either of them could have imagined. She’d definitely have to tell Daya she’s not rooming with her next semester.

[mlmxreader]

My Bloke | Alfie Solomons x m!reader

anonymous asked: Hello! Last one for the day, I promise.

"Jealousy is a good look on you, y'know" + "Don't roll your eyes at me" + "Ah, fuck it, I have nothing to lose - fancy going out?"

For Alfie Solomons with a male!reader or nonbinary reader.

Thank you again and please feel free to ignore the spam of asks, seriously I'm really sorry if they get irritating!

🐍anon

summary: Alfie can be unpredictable and violent when he wants to be, especially when it comes to other people looking at his husband.

tws: violence/threats, gun threats, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Sitting on Alfie's lap, you were quite happy as you flicked through the morning papers; it wasn't rare for you to do so, the same as it wasn't rare to find Alfie sitting on your lap as he went through the day's dealings before he left the office and went home.

But today was slightly different. Alfie's grip on you wasn't to keep you steady, it was possessive, holding you rightly against him as he clenched his jaw and glared at the man sat opposite the desk. The complete stranger, eyeing up his own fucking husband.

Alfie couldn't allow it as he pulled you back against him, you didn't seem to care, turning your head slightly as you welcomed the harsh and possessive kiss. Alfie could always be unpredictable when dealing with other gangsters, you had long grown used to it, and when the kiss was over, you went back to reading your papers.

"Mister Solomons," the other man started, his eyes not leaving your body for even a second as he slowly licked his lips. "I, uhm, I'm here on, uhm, behalf of uh-"

"Fuckin' spit it out already," Alfie huffed. "Or I will fuckin' shoot you right between the eyes."

"Revolver's in the drawer to your left," you told him without looking up. "Bullets are behind the pen ink."

Alfie grabbed the gun, and only let go of you so he could load it, his grip back on you as he cocked the hammer and pointed it at the other man, raising his brows. "Why the fuck are you eyein' up my bloke? Huh? Did your mum never tell you not to touch what don't belong to you?"

The other man soon enough scampered off, thoroughly scared as he apologised profusely. Alfie huffed, unloading the gun and putting it back. He gently tugged your papers away from you.

"Yes?" You hummed.

"Fuckin' hated the way he looked at you," he grumbled, coaxing you to sit with your chest against his, your hands on his shoulders as he gripped your thighs. "Don't anyone outside of Camden have any manners?"

You grinned as you shrugged. "Guess not… but, guess what."

"What?"

"Jealousy is a good look on you, y'know," you mused. "Reminds me of a bloke I served with in the war."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he were a Captain," you started, "strong. Handsome. Always wrote to his mother. Course, he didn't have a nice and neat beard like you, but he was good."

"Uh-huh," Alfie dared to smile. He loved it when you did that. "Did this Captain, by any chance, happen to be the one that managed to find real coffee in the Winter of sixteen?"

"He was," you confirmed with a smile and a nod. "Do you know him?"

"No," Alfie teased, coaxing you onto his desk and standing between your spread legs. "But I know a bloke who did. Besides… you don't want a Captain, do you, mate?"

You shook your head, tugging at his shirt. "I prefer a gangster who gets jealous of every little thing."

"Then you're in luck," he whispered, bringing his face to your neck, his lips just and just touching the sensitive skin as he smiled. "Ain't you, lad?"

You nodded. "Maybe I am."

"Oi," he warned, pulling away and playfully glaring at you. Laughing when you rolled your eyes in the same manner. "Don't roll your eyes at me, Sergeant. I'll have you court martialed for it."

"How you gonna court martial me, Captain Solomons?"

Gently, Alfie tugged you closer. "However the fuck you want me to, Sergeant Solomons."

You had to admit, you did strike gold with Alfie. It wasn't the jealousy, it wasn't the fact that he was unpredictable or that you had been through an entire war together.

It was that he made you laugh. He made you laugh, and he made you smile; you never once feared that he would have a violent outburst directed at you. Never. He made you feel safe, he always had done.

When he wasn't at home during business meetings, you couldn't sleep; you had to have him near. It's why you spent so much time at the office, as even though you were his right-hand man, you didn't really have any reason to stick around outside of the occasional meeting that required the both of you.

But you still did, because you enjoyed being in his presence.

Even if he was doing invoices and all that shit that you didn't understand, you could always find a newspaper or something to read while you lounged around in his office.

Just being near him was enough, you didn't have to be doing the exact same thing at all times. That didn't matter.

Just as you didn't sleep if he wasn't around, Alfie never finished a cup of coffee or slept on the left hand side of the bed when you weren't there; coffee made by others didn't taste as good, and the left hand side of the bed had always been your side.

He never slept on the left side, even if he was a thousand miles away. He never slept on the left side. For all of his faults, Alfie loved you in the smallest and biggest ways he possibly could; he loved you as much as he could, the same as you loved him the same.

He loved you with everything that he could, and when he caught your gaze, he couldn't help himself as he gently and slowly kissed you. Making you laugh when his beard tickled your skin so softly.

"Y'know, I ain't got another meetin' all day, and Ollie's fuckin' around somewhere so he can look after this shit," Alfie admitted.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Ah, fuck it, I have nothing to lose - fancy going out? Just me and you, yeah?"

You grinned as you gently raked a hand through his hair. "Dorsia?"

"Dorsia," Alfie agreed. "Nothin' but the best for my bloke. Go get your coat, I'll get me stick and we'll fuck off down to Dorsia for the afternoon."

[wandawiccan60]

I’m Sorry

An Alfie Solomons X Freya(FemOC)One-Shot

A/N: Hello everyone I know I have ghosted for a while just school and other things have happened lately good and bad really. But enough said but here is a lovely lovely One-Shot that I had the honor with working with my bestie and lovely @i-love-th-characters1. We thought of this story out of nowhere and we decided to make Alfie be such a brute because we thought that Alfie never really apologizes so we decided to make this tale of him and we are very proud to share this short and yet long one shot of the lovely King of Camden Town and his beautiful Scandinavian. Gypsy Freya(our very own OC). Romance, Friendship, etc is presented before your eyes and I hope you all enjoy this as much as me and I-love had such a fun and brainstorming time to bring this to life. Without further ado please as always enjoy, Reblog, Comment, and thank you all for being around I appreciate it every single one of you.

Summary: ”I'm Sorry." 

Two words that she never thought she would hear from the man in front of her. If she's honest, she did look at him like he had 3 heads. Silence took over as they both stared at each other, wondering who would break it as his apology lingered between them.

WARNING 18+: Fem is a Virgin, Lit SMUT, Cussing, Mentions of Alcohol, & Lots Fluff

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The old grandfather clock chimed throughout the small hallway indicating that it was past 10 o'clock at night. Freya was peacefully sitting on the red velvet couch facing the small chimney fireplace. While in her hands she continued to read a book that she got from one of the bookshelves. Cyril was lying next to her feet on the floor while the smooth breeze of the ocean outside the window came inside the lit-up living room. Freya let out a low sigh placing the closed book on top of her lap feeling uneasy about Alfie not arriving home yet. 

“Where could he be, it’s getting late?” she said out loud resting her back against the head of the couch hearing the crackling sound of the fireplace continuing to burn. 

Feeling like time was going slow for Freya, Sophia, their young maid, appeared inside the living room making Cyril lift his head up from his nap. 

“Would you like me to get you anything else for tonight Mrs. Solomons?” the young girl asked while picking up the silver tray from the small brown table in front of Freya.

“No, I’m quite alright now, Sophia thank you. It's best you head home. I'm still waiting for Alfie to arrive from his workplace. Don’t you worry about me, I can take care of the rest of the house. You have done a lot today which I appreciate very much and so does Alfie but enough said. Oh, and yes, your payment for this week's salary I’ll get that right away for you my dear. I’ll be right back,” Freya said, walking her way out of the living room to head to Alfie’s office, while Sophia put away the tea tray in the kitchen area.

A few minutes later Freya returned with the young woman’s payment in her hands, she saw Sophia giving cuddles and scratches to the big Bullmastiff. She smiled at the site while the big dog lay on his back enjoying the amount of attention he was getting from the young housemaid. 

“Silly Cyril you, now come on then off to bed with you. Go on shoo, shoo,” Freya clapped commanding the big brown mutt to go away but was not listening. 

“Hehe, seems he doesn't want to go to bed just yet, but I must go now Cyril I’ll see you tomorrow you sweet dog,” Sophia cooed raising herself on her feet smoothing out her white shirt dress.

“Here you go love,” Freya said handing over the young woman’s money as she continued speaking, “We’ll see you at the same hour in the morning as always, you walk safely back home now. Goodnight Sophia.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Solomons, and I’ll be here at 7 in the morning sharp like I always do. And it is a pleasure to serve you and Mr. Solomon-.”

The front door suddenly burst open making both women jump back in fright, noticing Alfie angrily mumbling some words under his breath. Both Sophia and Freya couldn't quite catch what he was saying, as he shut the door with force. 

“Fuckin’ hell can tonight be something more difficult than the other nights,” Alfie loudly said walking his way towards his office room not noticing the girl's presence who have been seeing his small tantrum all this time.

“Umm, well then that means he didn’t have a good day at work I suppose. I apologize for my husband's behavior Sophia, he really isn't like this every night believe me. Anyways again goodnight dear, until the morning,” said Freya, opening the door for Sophia feeling embarrassed on the inside from Alfie’s actions.

After Sophia left the house, Freya with a small temper growing from inside, quickly walked her way toward her husband's private office. Cyril followed right behind as she opened the door with ferocity, seeing his back facing her way.

“What the fuck is the matter with you, Alfie? Have you gone out of your mind coming back home with that temperament?” Freya questioned, closing the door behind her and crossing her arms in front of her chest glaring her eyes directed at him.

“So fuckin’ what, eh? I can act whatever way I want, yea, you won’ understand the amount of shit I went through today,” he said, forwarding himself on his knuckles on top of his desk, letting out a big frustrated sigh.

Freya let out a slow sigh trying her best to steady her breathing, wanting to try and communicate with her loving husband. She felt her body relax until she talked to Alfie once again.

“Alfie, talk to me, you know you can always tell me what is wrong,” Freya said, placing a gentle hand on top of his left shoulder but he shoved her hand away from him startling her with fright.

“Why would you fuckin’ care about what happened to me at the job today, it's business that you won’t understand. And now you here telling me ‘what is wrong,’ like if talkin’ will make me feel better,” he said giving a menacing look at his wife, Freya felt chills forming through her body appalled by how Alfie was raising his voice at her.

“Are you listening to yourself, Alfie?” Freya now had her voice raised while her hands turned into tight fists as she continued on speaking, “What is the matter with you, how dare you're raising your voice at me when it isn’t my fault you had a terrible day at work. And you're standing here taking your anger out on me. Who by the way is your wife? Who wants to try and understand what the hell caused you to act like this.”

“Do me a favor, my dear yea? Why don’ you just leave me alone and shut your goddamn mouth and instead you can fuck off from my site yea! You're makin’ my damn head hurt more just by looking at your face,” he said breathing heavily in and out from his nostrils, Freya stayed silent feeling as though a sharp knife stabbed through her heart.

Not wanting to stay any longer Freya angrily walked out of Alfie’s private office, shutting the brown door with a loud bang. She leaned her back against the wooden door placing her hands over her eyes and letting out a small quiet whimper. She felt tears forming through her dark hazel eyes, inhaling a long breath of air as she walked her way through the small hallway. She grabbed a long black scarf from the coat hanger and wrapped the material around her shoulders. Freya made her way out of her house without a care in the world, as some thunder was heard in the far distance. Indicating that a storm was coming in but that didn’t stop her from walking her way to who knows where. Back inside the house, Alfie took out a bottle of whiskey from a side drawer of his desk. Before opening the cap, he stared at the bottle for a moment until he saw Freya’s face.

Realizing what he did and said to her was incredibly wrong and inside his soul, he was regretting it ever so much. Grabbing the whiskey bottle with his right hand he frustratingly threw it across the room, making a big splatter spot on the wall. Along with the pieces of glass shattered throughout the floor as he let himself fall on top of his armchair. Tilting his head back looking up at nothing else but the ceiling, exhaling a long sigh while he had his eyes closed. 

What the fuck did I just do… I’m such a fuckin’ idiot…

Alfie walked his way out of his office room, walking through the hallway towards the stairs that led up to the second floor. Cyril walked alongside him making their way up wanting to apologize to her for acting such a dick towards her knowing that his anger got the best of him. Alfie reached the bedroom door and before going inside he softly knocked on it. 

“Freya… sweetheart, I’m… forgive me for screaming at you. I… I don’t know what came over me,” Alfie said, letting out a disappointed sigh and placing his right hand on the doorknob making his way slowly inside the room.

But to his shock, she was nowhere to be found inside but only their empty bed and a small table lamp on the other side of the room. Alfie panicked feeling his heart racing out of control, as he walked his way back down the first floor. 

“Freya. Freya, where are you?” he called out looking from one room to the other, not finding any trace of her whereabouts.

Alfie started to become more agitated after failing to find her in every part of the house thinking about where she could be or run off to. Alfie caressed his fingers through his short brown locks, letting out another irritated sigh. Wondering where Freya could have gone too and somewhere he and she would know to go when they wanted to clear their heads out. That's when it suddenly hit him where exactly Freya could have gone to.

The old stone bridge… she must have gone there…

Alfie didn't wait another minute to pass by and made his way out of the house, leaving Cyril all alone in the house. Outside the dark chilly night, it started pouring small drops of rain as Alfie walked his way towards the path that leads to the old bridge. Where they met for the first time when they were in their adolescent years. He only hoped and prayed that Freya made it there safely the rain however only continued to come down heavily.

This is all my fault…my own damn fucking guilt…

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14 Years Ago: Somewhere In Camden Town

"Follow the path, Cyril. You know better." A young Alfie told his then puppy. 

The pup happily sniffed and walked along the path again, a path he and Alfie took for their afternoon walks for a few months now. It was all very familiar to both boys. Today was no different, or at least, it wasn't supposed to be. Yet, their ears picked up on something. 

"Stop." Alfie whispered to his pup who stayed in place in front of him, waiting for his owner to be closer. 

Looking around, Alfie couldn't place where the sudden singing was coming from. Not that he minded the joyous and raucous tune, but the path is known to be private, which is why he began walking Cyril here two months ago. Straining his sight again, he finally saw a figure under the old stone bridge. 

A young woman, to be exact. She was dancing while singing. Her swaying movements and the unfamiliar tune was like a siren's song to the young man and his puppy. Neither even felt themselves starting to walk in her direction. Their feet simply had minds of their own. Slowly, they approached the young woman who hadn't seen or heard them yet. She was too busy dancing her heart out, the jingling of her many necklaces clinking against each other adding a different beat to the, what Alfie could tell was a, foreign song. He was in a trance as he watched her body move. Nothing provocative, nothing grand. She just seemed so free. Cyril looked up at his owner, wondering why he hadn't said anything yet if he liked seeing the girl dance so much. So, being the curious puppy he was, he happily barked. 

The echoing noise immediately had the young woman stopping her movements and her song as she sharply inhaled, clearly startled as she looked towards the direction in which the bark came from. 

"No, no, shh." Alfie told his dog as he tried to subdue the embarrassment he began to feel since he had gotten caught staring.

Instead of being able to control his puppy, Cyril barked again, and again, and again. His tail was wagging and his ears stood up halfway as he wondered why the girl wasn't singing or dancing anymore as she kept looking at them. Alfie wasn't sure what to do as he looked up from his dog. His eyes met the young woman's, and he could tell that she was either seconds from running away or she was too scared to move and was hoping they'd leave first. He knew one thing was for certain; neither parties moved from their spots as they simply stared at each other. 

He could tell she wasn't from here. He had never seen her in the town, much less under the old bridge that he has been passing under daily for two months. He softly cleared his throat as he gave her a tiny nod, unsure of what to do as she kept looking at them. He wasn't sure if she'd do them both harm, though she didn't seem to be a bad person. Cyril, on the other hand, was still curious about this girl who seemed so free a moment ago and was now hesitant to leave the safety of the shadows of the bridge. 

So, Cyril took matters into his own paws and sniffed the trail as he wandered over to where she was standing. He was surprised when Alfie didn't bother stopping him. Looking up at the girl who slowly looked down at him, Cyril barked, wagging his tail to let her know he was friendly. He sensed that she was being cautious, and the pup didn't blame her. He and his owner were strangers to her after all. He sat in place and softly whined, giving her the best puppy eyes that he could muster. Alfie took cautious steps towards the two, stopping just under the beginning of the bridge. 

He watched her necklaces clink together as she slowly moved to kneel down in front of the puppy. Cyril immediately climbed into her lap, causing the young woman to seem taken back by the gentle action. The pup nudged one of her hands with his small nose, letting her know it was alright to pet him. Carefully, she very lightly patted his back, now curious about the tiny animal in her lap who seemed happy to see her. So she patted him again, and again, and again. Each time, she grew less afraid, less cautious, and soon, Alfie felt himself smiling as he watched her scratch Cyril on his belly which caused one of the pup's back legs to scratch the air. 

He found her smile breathtaking, even if it was directed at his dog and not him. 

"I…um, we're sorry for interrupting you." He said, noticing how her eyes were taking all of him in. 

It made him feel too warm for his own comfort, but some tiny part of him deep down enjoyed the attention from this beautiful young woman. 

She only gave him another smile, seeming confused as to what he was saying. Deciding to try and help the situation, Alfie carefully kneeled down in front of her and his pup, hoping she could tell that they're both friendly and meant her no harm. 

"Cyril." He told her, pointing at the puppy. 

She tilted her head slightly to the right, still seeming confused. 

"Cy-ril." Alfie repeated, only slower this time so she could grasp the name. 

She looked at the dog, slowly nodding. Though she didn't say anything, Alfie knew she understood. Suddenly, she was pointing at him, head tilting to the right again. 

"I'm Alfie." He said, placing one of his hands on his chest. 

Her eyebrows raised in confusion. 

"Al-fie. Al-fie." He slowly repeated, being patient with her. 

She gave him a slow nod, understanding that he was introducing himself. 

"Alfie Solomons. I live here, in Camden. Do…Do you live here?" He asked, only to receive no answer.

They both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"Freya," She softly spoke, copying him and placing one of her hands on her chest, 

"Fre-ya." She said with a smile. 

"Freya." He repeated the name, liking how it rolled off his tongue. 

She happily nodded after he had said it. He stretched out his right hand towards her, watching as she looked at it with curiosity. 

"You give me your left hand, and we shake 'em together. That's how you greet someone who you just met." He explained.

Freya still didn't understand, so he gently took her left hand in his right one. Very slowly, he shook hands with her, noticing that she seemed to be paying close attention. 

"It's nice to meet you." He said, adding a slight smile for good measure. 

He tried to let go of her hand, but she didn't want to let him go. She had never been so patiently dealt with by someone foreign to her. Alfie felt himself blushing as they just awkwardly kept holding hands, wondering why she would choose to keep holding on to him. 

"Do you live here?" He asked her again, only to earn another head tilt. 

"Um," 

His mind was racing as he thought of ways to gesture at a house or anything that resembled a home. Suddenly, an idea hit him as he spotted a small twig beside his leg. She let go of his hand as his other began picking up the twig. He did the best that he could to draw an outline of a house between them on the sand beneath their legs. 

"Home?" He asked, motioning to his simple drawing. 

All Freya did was curiously look at him before something visibly clicked within her. She pointed to the twig, and Alfie quickly gave it to her. He was so caught up in looking her over that he hadn't realized what she was doing. That is, until a voice was heard in the far distance. 

"Freya!" A man's voice shouted.

Alfie watched as she happily turned around, looking towards where the voice came from. Turning again to face her new friend, she pointed behind her. 

"Tata." She said with a smile. 

Now it was Alfie's turn to give her a look of confusion, watching as she handed a snoozing Cyril to him before she carefully rose to her feet. He quickly followed, careful to not wake his puppy. 

"Freya!" The man's voice shouted again, sounding slightly closer this time. 

"Tata." The young woman repeated to Alfie who gave her a slow nod. 

Then it clicked. 

'Must be her father.' He thought as she gave him another smile. 

"Home." She softly added as she tried her best to copy how he had pronounced the singular word, once again pointing in the same direction she had a moment ago. 

"Oh, right, yeah. I best be headin' back myself. 

"Home?" She asked with a curious expression, her words laced with happiness. 

"Yes. My home is that way." He answered with a slight smile, pointing behind him, his thumb gesturing towards the path he and Cyril took.

"Jutro." She said with a look of hope. 

Once again, he was confused. 

"Jutro?" She asked instead, hoping it would make a difference. 

"I…I don't understand." He softly explained, taking a step closer to her.

"Jutro…jutro." She slowly repeated, making a gesture with her hands as she also took a step closer towards him.

Alfie paid close attention, trying to grasp what she meant as he closely watched her hands. Her left hand stayed still as her right one moved back to the front over her left. 

"Jutro?" She asked in a whisper. 

Then it hit him. 

"Tomorrow!" He blurted out, finally understanding. 

"Jutro!" She happily hummed out, grateful that he knew what she meant. 

"I'll come back tomorrow. Me and Cyril," He pointed to himself and his pup, 

"Will meet you," He pointed at her,

"Here." He promised as he pointed between them.

They were both happy that they had reached an agreement, just in time, as her father called out a third time, the voice closer now. She reached towards Cyril, giving his head a loving pat, being careful to not wake him. With a final look to Alfie, Freya slowly waved at him, giving him such a sweet smile before she hurried out from under the old stone bridge. He watched as she soon disappeared into the fog that was covering the far distance of Camden. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Some Time Later

Freya, Alfie, and Cyril were inseparable. Wherever one was, so were the other two. The three spent much time each day under the stone bridge. It was mostly because Freya was scared to leave its safety. She had never dared go past the bridge, and Alfie never forced her. Until one month later when one particular morning Cyril had stepped on a small thorn and Alfie wasn't sure what was wrong with his pup. 

"Mate, you're limping." He said in concern as Cyril sat in place. 

Squatting down, Alfie carefully looked over his whimpering pup, trying to figure out what the source behind the discomfort was. 

"Alfie!" Freya happily called out to him from under the bridge. 

Looking towards her, he waved at her since she was waving at him. 

"I'll be just a second, alright? Something is wrong with Cyril." He called out to her as worry towards his dog's health began creeping into his head. 

Freya quietly watched as Alfie sat on the floor and Cyril didn't climb in his lap. In her eyes, it was all too strange that the puppy would rather sit on the floor than in his owner's lap because Cyril loves being in her and Alfie's laps. 

She could hear Alfie talking to Cyril, but all he would get in return were whines and whimpers of discomfort. Worry rose within her, and it was so fast in that moment that she hadn't realized her feet had minds of their own. They quickly walked her out from under the bridge and towards her friends. She sat beside Alfie, who glanced over at her then back to his dog, but then he quickly fully looked over at her. 

"Cyril." She said in worry with a small frown. 

Carefully, she picked him up, doing some inspecting of her own to see if Alfie possibly missed something when he had done the same just a second ago. 

"Freya, you're-" 

"Found it." She announced as she very gently laid the dog on her lap. 

She spotted a very small thorn wedged between the pads of his left back paw. 

"A thorn?" He asked her as she held it up for him to see. 

"Yes." She answered before flicking it away from them. 

"Better, Cyril?" She asked the pup as she set him on all fours. 

He happily wagged his tail before barking, obviously in a much better mood. 

"Freya," 

She turned to look at Alfie who wore a surprised expression on his face. 

"Yes?" She asks curiously. 

"You're out from under the bridge." He told her gently. 

She looked behind them, finding he was correct. She had left the safety of the bridge. Yet it didn't feel different now that she was out from under there. She was with Alfie and Cyril, which made everything seem normal. 

"Is good?" She hesitantly asked him. 

He gently smiled at her, enjoying that she had learned the English language so quickly with his help.

"Do you feel good about being here in the open?" He asked her. 

After giving the question some thought, she nodded, giving him a smile in return. 

"Then this means I can show ya the shops in the town." He excitedly said, and the thought of seeing all the different stores and products they have to offer caused her to smile again. 

That day, while they were in town, he asked her if she would allow him to be her boyfriend. She looked at him in slight shock as she thought of what he had just asked.

"If you don't want to be with me, I understand. It's just…I fancy you so much, Freya. You understand me like no one else does. You're beautiful and kind. Your nature is to heal and comfort. Mine is to destroy and create chaos. But none of that happens when I'm with you." 

"Yes." She answered once his words ceased. 

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, big smiles began to spread across their lips before she happily hugged him. He hugged her back, holding her tightly as she excitedly giggled into his chest. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

1914: World War I

Two months passed before their lives drastically changed. A war had begun, and by what Alfie told Freya, any and all help was needed. 

"They sent me this." He told her, holding up a folded paper. 

"What is it?" She hesitantly asked. 

He took a good long look at her. He didn't want to tell her. He couldn't. He couldn't bear to see the sadness he knew would be on her face. He didn't want to tell her that he might die far away from home. Yet he forced himself to answer her. 

"It's a letter. I've been…" 

She stepped closer to him, seeing the worry in his eyes,

"I've been drafted. They need me to go fight. I leave in two weeks." 

Silence lingered between them as they looked at each other.

"You can't leave." She whispered as a small frown took over her lips. 

"I have to. They'll punish me if I don't." He softly explained. 

"But…But what if you don't return?" She asked him.

Tears began to form in her eyes, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her. 

"I will. I will return. That much I promise you." 

Those two weeks were spent with each other. The young couple felt that they couldn't get enough time together as the day they both dreaded quickly approached. When that morning came, the two closely stayed by each other's sides as they waited for the designated train to pull into the station. 

Freya couldn't stop thinking about how to help Alfie feel less nervous. He was holding her hand as if his life depended on it. Then it dawned on her.

She moved to take off one of the many necklaces that hung around her neck. Making sure she had the one she wanted, she moved to stand in front of her boyfriend. He looked at her with curious eyes, wondering what she was doing. He had his answer when she held the necklace towards him. Understanding that she was trying to help, he slightly dipped his head down and felt her carefully slip it over his head. As it rested against his chest, he looked down at it, finding a small coin-sized plate hanging from the chain. The name of his girlfriend was engraved in a fancy font on the face of it. 

She had opened her mouth to speak, but the train was coming into the station, blaring its horn in the process. The other men, young and older and who had also received a letter that requested their help in the war, began saying goodbye to their significant others or their families. Slowly, Freya's eyes met Alfie's. 

"I promise to come back to you. No matter how far away I am, you'll be here in my heart. That's why you gave me this, right?" He asked as he pointed to the necklace. 

"Yes." She answered in a whisper. 

The train horn blared again, and even though the recruited men didn't want to, they all began lining up beside the train car to board it. Mothers and wives were crying while waving their sons and husbands off. Looking down at Freya, Alfie tightly embraced her. It was warm and loving, and neither wanted to let go. Reluctantly, he was the first to pull away after a solid minute. 

"Don't cry, my love." He whispered as he gently wiped away her tears. 

She placed her hands over his own, wanting to feel them in hers one last time until who knew how long. He leaned down, placing his mouth over hers, and she followed along by closing the space between them. The kiss was beautiful; familiar, and slow as they tried to be physically connected for as long as they could. When they couldn't breathe anymore, they pulled away, and after they caught their breaths, she sadly watched as he picked up his bags. 

"Can I ask you for a favor?" He spoke softly. 

"Anything." She answered quickly. 

"Will you please look after Cyril and collect my mail while I'm gone? I don't get much, if any, but I'll write to you every chance I get." He explained. 

She gave him a nod as it sank in for both of them that they were not dreaming and would be apart with neither knowing for how long. With an apologetic expression towards her, he began to also join the long line of recruited men. 

He was only 15 feet away from her, yet she was already missing his touch. So, she did what any love stricken girlfriend would do. 

"Alfie!" She called out. 

He was about to fill an empty spot in the line when he quickly turned around. He was met by Freya rushing towards him, and just before he could drop his bags, her arms were around his neck. The force that came with her was so great that he almost lost his balance, but the young men on his right and left sides steadied him. They gave him knowing smiles as they took his bags and held them for him. His arms were wrapping themselves around her waist once his hands were free. 

When she looked up at him, they kissed again, the action done in haste as the train horn was heard again. When they pulled away, Alfie rested his forehead against hers. 

"I love you." He told her with such seriousness that she couldn't help but smile. 

"I love you, too." She responded, and he slowly began to let go of her just like she did to him. The warmth they both felt from the embrace quickly turned cold as the two young men handed Alfie his bags again. Freya smiled sadly at him, earning the same smile from him.

A woman gently pulled her away from the line as it shortened, telling her that it was safer to wait by the waiting area than be too close to the tracks. Freya learned that the woman was a mother and had just said goodbye to her three sons. They both stood together, watching in fear and sadness as the train began to slowly take off. Alfie waved at her, just like the woman's sons did. The four had gotten seats right beside some windows. Freya waved back at him, trying her best to not cry so Alfie wouldn't remember her like that.

From that day, exactly one week passed until she heard from him. She was sitting in the living room of his home. Cyril was lying beside her as they both occupied the longest sofa. As she went through the mail to see if he had written to her, her heart raced when she saw her name on one envelope. She dropped the other few envelopes to the floor and got to opening hers right away. Her eyes were met by her boyfriend's handwriting, and they didn't hesitate to begin reading. 

'Freya, 

I am missing you. I know it has just been a couple of days, but I cannot wait to see you again. It is hard to be away from you for this war against France. I know that what I am doing is for the good of people, but nothing truly feels good without you. I am hoping to see you again soon. But, until then, know that I love you dearly and that I left my heart with you, my darling. 

I love you, 

-Alfie 

Tears ran down her cheeks as she realized that only a week had passed. How long would it be until they saw each other again? Would he make it back? Would this war turn him into someone she wouldn't recognize when…if…he returned? Looking at Cyril, who was closely watching her, Freya continued to softly cry. The dog became concerned, so he moved his head to be in her lap. As soon as she felt Cyril's weight, she hugged him, crying into his fur as he lowly whined. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Freya. Freya, can you hear me love?” Alfie called out walking through the big green forest both his shoulders and hair drenched in rain.

He has been calling out for his wife for an hour or so hoping that she didn’t go far from where they lived. Beneath his shoes the pathway was muddy in some spots trying his best to not slip. Some paces later Alfie saw a black smokey cloud in the distance. At first he thought it would be Freya’s family that were set at camp but as he made his way towards the cloud. It turned out to be the old stone bridge where he and Freya would mostly spend time together and where they first met all those years ago. It’s like he could remember it like it was yesterday.

How time flies so fast…

Seeing the smoke coming from underneath he carefully made his way down a steep path. Once making it down Alfie embraced the site of the old bridge placing a hand against its few stones. Remembering the old days of both him and Freya’s life when they would meet each other secretly. Until Freya’s father found out about their meetups one day and it caused both of them to not see or speak to each other for weeks. But eventually Freya told her father that Alfie was nothing but a gentleman and a marvelous boy towards her. Knowing that Alfie wasn’t never the type of man to lay a hand on her for any reason. Her father at first didn’t believe in her daughter for a while but eventually when one day Alfie without feeling afraid. Went to visit her home and talked with her family hoping that they will see a different perspective and let Freya be his friend. 

“If you ever do anything that will harm my lovely daughter you stay away from us and never come back. Is that understood boy?” Said Harald Freya’s father pointing a sharp finger at the young boy which in reply a nod in agreement. 

And after that discussion Freya was free to see and speak with Alfie which she was relieved that her father finally let her see her friend. It was as if that event just happened yesterday how he wished to relive that moment one more time.

Alfie then made his way towards the large opening of the bridge where he found Freya sitting on the wet cold ground. Hugging her legs together while she stared at the small campfire she made not too long ago. Her long dark brown hair was wet from the rain as well as her clothes. It didn’t bother her since she is after all a gypsy who has traveled to many places. And the rain was one of her favorite weathers feeling like she is at peace for the most part. Freya didn’t notice his presence until Alfie sat next to her. She scooted a bit to the side still feeling upset towards him not forgetting what he told her earlier. Alfie noticed this not wanting to push her buttons anymore knowing he has caused so much tonight. The crackling sound of the wood against the fire continued and Freya and Alfie didn't say much for a moment. While the sound of faint thunder was heard far towards the distance as the drops of water continued to gently pour down. Alfie wanted to say something at first but he didn’t feel brave to say anything yet. Freya tightens her long black scarf around her shoulders, feeling the cool wind feeling shivers running through her body. Noticing this Alfie without exchanging any words removed his long black coat from himself. He gently placed the warm material over Freya making her flinch but yet welcomed it. She looked him in the eyes giving off a small faint smile nodding her head in “thank you.” Alfie returned the gesture they both didn’t say much again. As some time has passed for too long Alfie finally surprising himself at the words he said next.

“I’m sorry,” is all that he could say looking forward to the fireplace.

When Freya heard him say those two words she looked at him with a confused look. Not believing in what he just heard him say.

“What did you say?” She then said wanting to make sure she heard him correctly.

Before he said anything he sat straight while clearing his throat. He turned to see his wife having to repeat himself again. Inhaling a small breath he heard himself again saying those two words he mostly never says until now.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you back at home my love. My frustration and stubbornness got the best of me and I never meant to say those things to you either. Work has been a pain in the ass these past couple of days and today was the worst of them all,” he says, lowering his eyes looking at his hands biting his lips together as he went on, “once those words came out of me mouth I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. Looking at your eyes I saw how hurt you felt and I wanted to just kill myself then and there for what I have said to the love of my life. I just…just.”

Freya could see the tears forming against his blue eyes knowing that he meant every word that he was saying to her. Seeing and hearing the guilt in his eyes and voice wishing he could take back what he didn’t mean to say. She also felt her eyes filling with tears as one teardrop stream down the corner of her right eye gently wiping it away with the back of her right hand. No words were exchanged Freya tightly hugged Alfie around his neck almost making him tilt to the side. But they both steadied themselves; she then felt his arms wrapping around her embracing in each other's arms. 

“I know you didn’t mean those words my love, but that doesn’t make me stop loving you no matter what. I love you so much my Alfie, like you don’t imagine,” she said leaning back to look him in the eyes, placing her right hand against his left cheek as their foreheads touch each other.

“I promise you at this very moment that I’ll not let my emotions get to me very easily. Because I never want to see my flower look sad and hurt ever again. And I love you too my Freya like you don’t know either,” he said back, placing a small light kiss on top of her forehead.

“I hope you know I’m not one of your workers who will tolerate your screaming and shouting, Alfie. I'm your wife." Freya reminds her husband placing both her hands on each side of his cheeks.

Alfie nods immediately. "I know, sweetheart.”

"Don't you ever do this to me again, yes?” Freya says, sounding not too angry anymore with a more relaxed smile.

He gives her a small smile while nodding again. "I wouldn't dream of it." He says as he gets closer to her. 

She can't stay mad at him forever, so she also gets closer to him. He leans down to kiss her, and when their lips touch, it all comes flooding back to him. The very first moment they shared their love for each other. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

She could only imagine the beautiful bodies of other young women he had seen before she had ever met him. How could she compare? Surely they were much more beautiful than she. Every scar she had ever earned, from quick evacuations with her family when they encountered danger throughout their travels, were on display. They were like directions to every imperfection she had. Yet there she stood in front of the edge of his bed, bare. He stood before her, wearing only boxers. His bright blue-green eyes drank in every centimeter of her skin before they looked deep into her eyes. 

"Freya," 

The way her name gently left his mouth made her heavily blush. All she could hear in his words was love. The emotion was very clear, and it gave her some relief, but not enough to wash her nerves away entirely. 

“You’re absolutely stunning; a vision, a work of art.” He spoke, genuinely meaning every word.

He slowly closed the space between them, his eyes staying on her face the whole time as he walked a few steps towards her. She suddenly held her breath. She didn’t want to tell him that this was her first time having sex. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper. 

He could see there was some concern written on her face, and it only grew the more he looked at her. 

“Alife, I…” 

He patiently waited for her to say what she needed, 

“I’ve never had sex.” 

His face grew pink at her confession. 

“We don’t have to do anythin’, love. I would hate to make you uncomfortable.” 

“I want to.” She quickly assured him. 

Silence took over between them as they stared at each other. 

“Neither have I.” He confessed. 

“What?” She asked softly. 

“I’ve also never had sex.” He clarifies. 

“Do you still want to…with me?” She asked with hesitance. 

“It would be an honor to have you be my first, my darling.” He answered.

She smiled up at him as her body relaxed a bit more. Slowly, she reached towards him, lightly placing her hands on his bare chest. It showed scars, all of them proof of his time away from home and fighting against enemies. A small smile crossed his lips as he placed his right hand at the back of her neck. His left hand made itself at home at her lower back. Before she knew it, he gently laid her down on his bed, helping her get more comfortable before he was hovering over her. His body was flush against hers but he made sure to keep his weight off her. 

“I’ll look after you, my love.” The promise was said in a gentle voice, and it caused the rest of her nervousness to fade away. 

Slowly, he dipped his head down and his lips began to pay special attention to the crook of her neck, leaving gentle kisses along one side. A sharp inhale had him straightening up. His eyes met hers, only to receive a nod. 

“I’m alright.” She whispered as a blush appeared. 

“I will not hurt you.” He spoke once he realized that she had been enjoying herself. 

Her focus on the soft pressure of his lips against the skin of her neck was broken when an entirely new sensation caught her by surprise. His right hand had begun to slowly trail up the inside of her leg. It traveled up slowly, leaving goosebumps behind as it rested on her hip. Lifting his head once again, his eyes were glued to her. He needed to make sure she was okay with what he was doing. The look of sheer lust in his girlfriend’s eyes was enough to send a blush erupting through his cheeks. He never removed his gaze from her face as his hands met at her underbust. 

“May I?” He asks, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. 

“Please.” She answered, arching her back off of the bed. 

He wasn’t sure if it had been the way she sweetly exhaled his name or if the sight of her so eager to be felt by him caused confidence to surge through him, but he was grateful that she trusted him so much. Slowly, his hands made their way up her sides, stopping on either side of her breasts. Very gently, he cupped them at the same time, earning a satisfied hum from her. 

“You’re warm.” She spoke, causing a chuckle to leave his mouth. 

“That’s one of the reasons you’re with me, innit?” He asked, watching a smile form on her lips. 

“One of many.” She answered, closing her eyes as his large, calloused hands began to completely cover her breasts. 

It was a nice contrast of rough against smooth. She enjoyed the way his hands held her so perfectly as his lips began kissing down her chest. They moved to kiss her left breast, then her right, and each kiss felt better than the last. He loved the way her back arched into him; it told him that he was doing a good job so far, and he wanted to keep that up. His index and thumb fingers found her nipples, and he gently began rolling them between his fingers at the same time. 

“Oh!” She moaned out. 

Her hands reached out to grab his arms, but by no means was she trying to get him to stop. Instead, she pulled him closer, and her fingers threaded his hair. She could feel immense heat between her legs, knowing that as much as she wanted to take it slow, she wasn’t going to last much longer. Her eagerness aroused him so much that his erect cock was throbbing in his boxers. Yet, he didn’t want to rush anything, for her sake. The last thing he wanted was to wind up hurting her unintentionally. His lips continued their kisses along her chest, leaving light love bites here and there, before they trailed kisses up to her neck. One of his hands left one of her breasts to gently glide down her stomach and stopped just above the place she needed his touch the most. She moaned into his mouth, hoping to convey her feeling of arousal to him enough for him to be bold enough to touch her. 

“Alfie, please.” She whimpered after they pulled away.

“You’re sure?” He hesitantly asked.

“Very sure. I need you.” 

“Say less, my darling.” He hummed out. 

He never removed his gaze from her face, his eyes boring into hers as his hands continued to move down her body while his mouth kissed every inch of her skin that was available. Finally, his fingers rested at her core, and the heat radiating from it was enough to make him groan in approval. Very slowly, his fingers circled her clit, and the look of pure relief flooded her face just as her head tilted back. Her back arched off of the bed and her hands found his hair to grab hold of. 

“Alfie…” 

The way she moaned his name had him circling her clit a little faster, wanting to see if the same blissful look would cross her face again. It did, and it made him so happy to see her enjoying his touch. His hands had done unspeakable things during the war, but none of that was important in that moment. Very slowly, he slid his finger inside of her, the accumulation of her arousal having made it an easy entrance. He slowly groaned as he felt her walls take his finger deeper, tightening around it while he gently moved it around inside of her. 

“You alright, love?” He asked, earning a moan in response. 

“More.” She breathlessly answered. 

“You’re sure?” He asked, slowing his movements. 

He stood up with his finger still inside of her, but he froze in place when she gave him a look of pure need. 

“I want you to make me yours.” She answered with such a seriousness that had his heart fluttering in his chest. 

“You're…sure?” He asked again as he hovered over her. 

“Yes.” She answered. 

His free hand made its way behind her head, lifting it enough so their mouth could meet for a loving kiss. He removed his finger from her aching walls and that hand swiftly slid down his boxers. No longer was there a barrier between them, and while it made her nervous, she found herself excited to finally be one with her boyfriend. He adjusted himself between her legs, gently parting them even more. When she caught a glimpse of his erection, heat flooded her face. It looked much too big to fit inside of her. 

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, having seen the way her eyes went a bit wide. 

“No.” She quickly answered. 

“Make me yours.”

Slowly, he brushed his cock along her soaking wet lips, causing them to slightly part. Then, very gently, he began pushing himself inside of her. Their groans harmonized for a few seconds as he stayed put for a few moments, allowing her to adjust to him. Everything felt so warm and so right when their lips connected once again. 

“You feel amazing.” He heavily sighed, the sound sending pleasant shivers up her spine. 

Her walls clenched around him each time he moved, the motion carefully done before he drove himself deeper. He held her body close against his, hoping to ease any pain that she felt. They lasted several minutes in that same position before her legs were wrapping around his waist. Their eyes met, and he could tell that she wanted more. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. The speed of his thrusting increased, and it wasn’t long until both of them were moaning messes. She didn’t even have time to process the entirety of what was happening to her before she felt an all too strong sensation flood her body that caused her senses to be at a standstill. He stopped moving, wanting to make sure she was alright as her high ended a moment later. He peppered her face with gentle kisses before his lips were covering hers. 

“Freya, I…I’m close.” He warned her when he felt her walls fluttering around him. 

She tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, preparing herself for what was to happen. He was about to move away from her to pull out, but she was quick to stop him by his shoulders. 

“Fill me.” 

A look of shock covered his facial features when he realized she was being serious. 

“Please.” She begged, and the whine alone was enough for him to give in. 

Hugging her to himself once again, he thrusted into her a few more times before he was groaning into one side of her neck. She softly moaned at feeling his hot cum filling her. He stayed inside of her for another minute before very carefully pulling out. He was quick to lay beside her, wrapping her up in his arms as she curled into his body. He reached for his discarded shirt, draping it over her as they both caught their breath. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, being the first to break the comfortable silence that filled his bedroom. 

“Yes. Are you?” She softly asked in return. 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.” 

He looked down at her and gave her a small smile. 

“Love, I should be the one thankin’ you for trustin’ me so much.” 

She smiled at his words as he kissed her head. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Epilogue: 5 years Later

“Where are those two rascals off too again?” Freya said to herself looking around from one room to another.

It has been a while since they moved out from Camden Town where Alfie was lucky enough to inherit a house near the beach. Margate was the name and it has been treating them fairly well where there was nothing else but a wonderful view of the sea and most of all quietness. But that wasn’t the only thing that brought the couple closer together. 

The sound of a small giggle was heard somewhere beyond the hallways which Freya knew exactly who it belonged to. 

“Alright now come out, come out wherever you all are,” called our Freya quietly tiptoeing her way towards where the chuckles were coming from. 

After Alfie and Freya got married some 3 years ago they afterwards welcomed their first child. It was such a blessing for the married couple that Alfie thought it was all a dream. Ellie was the baby girl's name, brown eyes like her mothers with a mix of stubbornness just like her father. It was a day to remember when they heard their baby’s first breath. Ever since that day Alfie was determined to be by his wife’s side, not caring if the distillery could continue without him. What mattered to him the most was his wife and daughter helping Freya out whenever she needed some time away from the baby. One late night however when Ellie was crying for hours Alfie took the baby in his arms while rocking against a wooden chair. He started to sing a lullaby to her in his mothers tongue which surprisingly made the little creature feel at ease. He also didn’t notice that her tiny hand was tightly holding onto his right index finger. He then smiled as he placed a gentle kiss against Ellie’s soft hair.

“I love you my little Ellie always and forever.” 

Freya continued to quietly make her way to the small giggles that she could still hear. Knowing that she is already near them wanting to scare them in surprise. 

“Shhh… be quiet mama is going to hear us,” said little Ellie to someone else.

A couple of months later after the birth of Ellie, Alfie and Freya then welcomed their second child. It was Alfie that encouraged Freya to have another baby which she didn’t hesitate to say no to him. Nehemiah was the boy's name that was given to him. Just like his father he wasn’t afraid of anything, always liking to get into some sort of trouble taking no for an answer but always obeyed his father whenever he would go one step far. But he would also have his moments whenever he felt like he needed to talk with his mother. Trying to also find his calmer side of himself and getting as much advice from his mother. 

“Whenever you feel angry or lost, always remember that I am here for you my love. And so is your father but just know that you're never alone my little one.”

“Oh you also be quiet Ellie I’m sure by now mama will hear us,” Nehemiah said playfully, nudging onto his sisters right arm not noticing their mothers presence.

“FOUND YOU BOTH!” Surprised Freya, making the two children scream from fright. 

Both children got on their feet quickly running away from their mother which she wasn’t too far behind. She scooped Nehemiah off from the wooden floor yelping and laughing while Freya hugged him tightly around her arms. She then placed a couple of kisses on the little boy's cheeks while feeling Ellie hug her mothers legs.

“Haha mama let Nehemiah go, how did you know we were here?” The little girl questioned, still holding onto her mothers leg.

“You both were giggling and that led me to finding your hiding place. But enough of playing around you two how about we get the table ready for dinner before papa comes home. How does that sound, my darlings?” She said kneeling in front of her two beautiful children while they nodded their head in “yes.”

Some time later it was already dark outside as the cool breeze blew ever so gently while Freya and her two children waited patiently for Alfie’s return in the living room. The crackling sound of the fireplace was heard in the background while Cyril lay down beside Ellie and Nehemiah while the children played with their toys. Freya was sitting on top of one of the couches while looking at the clock, seeing that it had passed the time Alfie should be home by now. Quietly tapping her right foot against the carpet floor the trio then heard the front door open. Indicating that they had finally returned home as Nehemiah and Ellie then ran their way out of the living room to greet their father. 

“Papa papa,” said both children in unison as Alfie opened his arms wide out to them while kneeling down. 

They all huddled down to the floor making both children giggle at their action.

“How are my two lovely children doin’ eh? I miss you all very, very much,” Alfie said as he gently stood up off the floor while Cyril nuzzled his wet nose against his owner's face.

“I also miss you as well you big mutt.”

“Ummm excuse me where is my welcoming kiss? I  hope you don’t forget about me Mr. Solomon’s,” Freya said, placing her hands on top of her hips but gave a cheeky smile.

“Hehe why would I not forget my lovely beautiful wife that always brightens my heart whenever I see her hmm?” He said getting up on his feet while Freya smiled and giggled as they both exchanged a kiss on the lips. 

“Ewwww, gross,” said Ellie, making a disgusted face which Freya found funny. 

Once the happy family settled down for dinner the night went on perfectly. As everyone feasted, Alfie and Freya held hands together as they memorized their beautiful little family. Not believing that they have come this far not expecting to have children this quickly. Alfie always thought he would only focus on himself growing his empire until his passing. But when he found Freya all those years ago as a child and saw how they both fell in love with each other. Suddenly all those ideas faded away seeing the perfect future already blooming in front of him. As dinner was ending both Ellie and Nehemiah started to grow sleepy while they all sat in the living room together. Alfie took Ellie in his arms gently taking her up stairs to her bedroom. Freya following close behind held Nehemiah in her arms while the child tried his best to stay awake. 

“Mama I’m not tired yet really,” protested the little boy but Freya wasn’t having it.

“Now my dear don’t be that way, it is late and you need your rest. And we’re going to the beach and if you don’t get your sleep you’ll be tired the next day. Now be a good boy and rest your eyes now, yes?” She said as she opened the door to the boys room as he placed him down on the soft bed. 

“Really mama, do you mean it? Oh I can’t wait to go now alright I’ll head to bed now,” cheerfully says Nehemiah as he gets himself under the bed sheets making Freya chuckle at this. 

“Very well my little Nehemiah i will see you in the morning my love. Goodnight my sweet boy,” she said, placing a gentle kiss on top of the boy's head caressing his left cheek in between.

Once Freya quietly closed the door behind her Alfie was already out of Ellie’s room. They both smiled at each other Alfie held out his hand towards his lovely wife. Freya walked up to him placing her hand on top of his making their way towards their bedroom. Once inside Alfie gently shut the door behind him and without losing another moment he embraced Freya around his arms. They both looked deep into their eyes as their foreheads touched against each other. 

“How is my lovely Queen Solomon’s feeling hm?” He asked, feeling her arms hugging around his neck while she let out a small giggle. 

“Wonderful as always you know I always still question to this day. How did I get very lucky to have you in my life Alfie? Why me and nobody else?” She questioned him wanting to hear those same words over and over again.

“Hehe do you really want me to repeat the same thing over and over again? How many times do I have to tell you my love? Because if I never met you in my life I wouldn’t have known such a wonderful spirit free and goddess like you. And that I am grateful and blessed   to say that you're my one and only woman. I wouldn’t want no one else but you my dear,” he said while gently placing Freya down against the bed hovering above her, taking in her thin lips between his.

Embracing each other in their arms they both laid there nakedly while Freya could hear her husband's heartbeat against her right ear. A small smile was spread throughout her face wanting to be like this forever. And all the while without Alfie not knowing Freya is expecting another blessing that was growing inside her womb.

I love you always and forever Alfie Solomons… until the ends of the earth…

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