#tom hardy/reader

[cinnxmxngxrl]

“Check one, two”

Tom Hardy x f!Reader

Masterlist here

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Summary: A mic accident turns into a viral scandal when you’re caught moaning your boyfriend’s name backstage.

WC: 3.8k

Tags/Wanings: smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, semi-public sex, filming a sex tape, unprotected piv, oral (m&f receiving), established relationship, reader is famous actress. This is a work of fiction. It is written for entertainment purposes only, the version of tom portrayed here is a fictional character. If RPF isn’t for you, feel free to skip this one

⋆｡°✩🎥✧📸⛓️⊹𖤐✦ 💋𓆩♡𓆪☾ 🎞️༄★ ⌇🌙 ⧫ 🎤

He was proud of the weight his name carried. Of the legacy he’d built with quiet consistency. The last few years had been about pulling away from the cameras, the spotlight. Choosing privacy over attention. Silence over scandal. His personal life had become something sacred — locked down, sealed tight.

You were the exact opposite.

Famous and filthy rich since your early teens, the word “no” had rarely, if ever, applied to you. The flashes of paparazzi, the roar of the crowd, the center of the stage — that was your natural habitat. You thrived under scrutiny. Craved the chaos.

By 26, you’d racked up more Oscars than Meryl Streep and more controversies than Kim K. You’d lost count of how many times you’d been cancelled — but it never stuck. The outrage always fizzled out, smothered beneath your undeniable talent. Your fans were loyal to a fault. Rabid. Defensive. A legion armed with memes, think pieces, and fan cams, ready to die on every hill you stood on.

The rumors started two years ago, back when you were both cast in that movie. The erotic thriller. The one that had half the internet foaming at the mouth before it even premiered. You and him on the same set was all it took for the tabloids to spiral.

He’d tried to stay under the radar. Tried to keep things quiet. Told you a million times he wanted to keep a low profile. That’s why you never commented publicly, never confirmed the relationship. But after dozens of events, red carpets, and paparazzi photos that screamed louder than any PR statement, there was no need for a declaration. Everyone knew.

Sometimes, he hated himself for getting involved with someone like you. Someone bold. Reckless. Addictive.

He was no stranger to your little games. Like during the press junket for the film — when your hand slid high up his thigh, fingers grazing his cock with the kind of casual confidence that made his pulse spike. You kept talking, kept smiling, answering questions like nothing was happening. Like you weren’t stroking him through his trousers while four journalists sat barely a few feet away.

⋆｡°✩🎥✧📸⛓️⊹𖤐✦ 💋𓆩♡𓆪☾ 🎞️༄★ ⌇🌙 ⧫ 🎤

This night, you looked like sin. It was the premiere of the new film you starred in, and you showed up dressed like a provocation.

That dress — red, liquid-slick, poured over your curves like melted wax. Backless. Braless. Dangerous. Every inch of skin you revealed looked deliberate, from the deep plunge of the neckline to the scandalous curve of your spine. Diamonds dripped from your neck like ice. Your heels could’ve slit a throat.

Tom was fucked the second he saw you.

“You’re gonna behave tonight, yeah?” he murmured under his breath, his palm settling low on your back as he escorted you into the venue. His voice was all gravel and restraint, a fragile attempt at composure as cameras flashed and fans screamed.

You leaned in, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “Only if you make me.”

That hand slid lower. Gripped tighter. Right above your ass.

“Don’t start,” he warned, jaw already tense.

Too late. You’d started the second you stepped out of the car.

And backstage? Things got worse.

You were scheduled to give a short speech before the film began — five minutes, spotlight, polite applause. Your mic was clipped discreetly to the inside of your neckline.

Tom? Mic’d too — strictly for the behind-the-scenes documentary crew. Supposed to be muted. Supposed to be.

But when you pulled him into the green room before your cue?

That mic was live.

“Ten minutes,” you whispered, voice low and sweet as the door clicked shut behind you. The makeup team had cleared. The room was quiet. Just you and him.

His eyes dropped to your chest. Up close, the dress was almost obscene, the fabric hugged every contour, clinging to your nipples with no shame. There was nothing underneath. Nothing to hide behind.

“You’re trouble,” he growled, stepping in close. The tension in his voice cracked at the edges, already unraveling.

You smiled, slow and wicked, and reached down — palming his cock right through his tailored pants. Bold. Effortless. Deliberate.

“You like it.”

He caught your wrist. Firm. Commanding. A warning.

“Not here.”

You pouted, body pressing closer. Your lips brushed his jaw. “You’re already hard. That mean you want me?”

He stared at you like a man starved.

Then? He locked the door.

“You’ve got five minutes,” he muttered, voice rough with need, hands already gripping your hips, spinning you around, pushing you back against the dressing table. His fingers rucked up your dress — fast, practiced, hungry.

You didn’t wait. You hiked it higher. No panties. No hesitation.

And Tom? Dropped to his knees.

Right there. Suit still on. On the fucking carpet. Eyes locked on your cunt like it was his only salvation.

Face buried between your thighs before you could even breathe.

“Oh—fuck—Tom—”

You gasped, back arching, fingers flying into his hair as his tongue dragged through your folds. Slow. Greedy. Possessive. His beard scratched in the most sinful way, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking hard until your knees buckled and you had to grip the table to keep from collapsing.

“Louder,” he growled into you, “wanna hear how wrecked you get for me.”

“Tom—please—oh my god—”

And that’s when the sound tech’s worst nightmare came true.

Because while Tom had you whimpering and soaked on his tongue, his mic was still hot. Still connected. Still transmitting.

The audience heard it.

First, just a soft, breathy moan — like a secret not meant to be shared, crackling through the venue speakers as the crowd shuffled and murmured, waiting for the film to start.

Then:

“Tom—fuck, right there—”

A gasp.

A slick, wet sound.

A man’s groan, deep and distorted.

And then chaos. Scrambling audio techs. Static. The sound cut.

But the damage was done.

Back in the green room?

You were cumming on his face.

Your teeth sank into your hand to keep from screaming, body shuddering, thighs clamped around his head as his tongue drove you to pieces. He held you in place like you were his meal — which you were. Sloppy. Ruthless. Devoted.

When he finally stood, his chin was glistening. His eyes feral. His chest heaving like he’d been through war.

“You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he muttered, dragging your dress back down, kissing your jaw as you panted in his arms. “Catch your breath. You’re on in sixty seconds.”

And then?

The door burst open. A frantic stage manager. Red-faced. Out of breath.

“Tom, your mic—”

That was when it hit you.

People heard you.

The scandal was immediate. The internet? On fire before the lights even dimmed.

Was that a MOAN during the pre-show?? Is she okay??

“Tom—fuck, right there” 😭 NOT TOM HARDY HAVING HIS MIC ON

Hard-launching his oral game mid-Emmy campaign is a flex I respect.

i want a relationship like theirs. chaotic, talented, public, and completely unapologetic. plus the oral game is clearly elite

we all heard it. you’re not slick.

On stage, you were flawless. Smiling. Glowing. Commanding the spotlight like you hadn’t just been tongue-fucked backstage with a live mic on.

Tom looked like he wanted to strangle the entire sound team.

In the car afterward, you were curled in his lap, laughing breathlessly as your phone buzzed nonstop.

“You’re trending,” you whispered against his throat. “Tom Hardy Oral Audio Leak.”

He groaned. Head falling back. Hands gripping your thigh like a man punished.

“You’re evil. You know that?”

You shrugged. “You ate me out like you were starving. You should’ve expected consequences.”

He kissed your collarbone. Then your shoulder. Then lower.

“You wanna talk consequences?” he murmured. “You’re not walking tomorrow.”

You smirked. Tugged him closer by the tie.

“I didn’t plan to.”

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You woke up with a sore throat, aching thighs from the night before, and six dozen missed calls.

The sunlight was brutal. Your body ached. Your core still pulsed with the ghost of his tongue, and the rasp in your throat sounded like you’d been screaming through a house fire.

Tom was still asleep behind you, arm heavy around your waist, warm breath at your neck, the weight of him thick and grounding. There were dried scratches trailing down his back like a confession scrawled in flesh. You’d clawed at him, ridden his mouth like a threat. Now you were paying for it.

Your phone buzzed again.

This time, it wasn’t just a message.

It was a goddamn news alert.

NY Times: “Was That Tom Hardy’s Mic?” Internet Loses Its Mind Over Mysterious Moan at Last Night’s Premiere.”

You blinked. Stared at the screen. Then snorted so hard it hurt.

“Tom,” you wheezed, elbowing him. “Babe. Wake up. You’re on the front page of the Times for eating me out.”

He groaned behind you, muffled, like he was still halfway through a dream. “What…?”

“Wake. Up. We’re viral.”

He turned over, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot, one cheek still creased from the pillow. And when he saw the headline?

That woke him the fuck up.

He sat up fast. Grabbed your phone. Scrolled through the notifications with the dawning horror of a man realizing he’d just publicly deepthroated his chances at subtlety.

Vulture: “When You Hear the Moan That Launched a Thousand Tweets.”

Buzzfeed: “10 Times Tom Hardy Accidentally Gave the Internet a Thirst Crisis.”

GQ: “Mic’d Up and Down Bad: The Moan Heard ’Round the World.”

“…Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, this is a mess.”

Thirty minutes later? PR hellfire.

Your manager was pacing the hotel suite like she was preparing to fling herself out the window. Your agent had called twice, then texted in all caps:

“DO NOT SAY ANYTHING TO THE PRESS.”

“DO NOT TWEET ABOUT IT.”

“DONT DO ANYTHING.”

Tom’s publicist? Sent a single email. Subject line blank. Just the message:

“Tom. Please. Not again.”

You were on your third mimosa. Barefoot, robe half open, legs still aching, a smug ache in your hips where he’d made a full meal out of you.

“Y’know,” you said, sipping from the flute, “we could deny it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You moaned my name into a hot mic.”

You grinned into your glass.

Your manager called again.

“Alright,” you said, exhaling, “so what’s the move? Denial? Apology? Public celibacy pact?”

Your manager’s voice crackled like she’d aged a decade overnight. “Just… let them talk. With luck, they’ll forget soon enough.”

They wouldn’t.

Not today.

Today, Twitter was war.

“the way she said ‘fuck’ like she was his last meal…”

“imagine having tom hardy’s face between your legs and you know the mic is on and you STILL don’t care.”

“i need that man to choke me backstage like he choked his chances at an unproblematic press tour.”

You showed him the tweets.

He laughed so hard he fell back against the couch. “You’re a menace.”

You crawled into his lap like gravity had pulled you there. Straddling him in his towel. Hair dripping. Smiling like a problem.

“You like it.”

His hand slid to your thigh — fingers slipping just beneath the edge of your robe.

“I fuckin’ love it.”

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Later that day, the interview requests rolled in.

You picked your favorite: a soft, upscale, Vanity Fair-style profile. One-on-one. Fireplace. Matching all black. Glamor and damage control in one shot.

Tom wore a tight black turtleneck. You wore a smug smile, glossy lips, and the memory of his mouth between your thighs.

Midway through, the interviewer coughed delicately.

“So,” she said, flipping her cue card with the stiff grace of someone afraid of HR, “we have to address the elephant in the room. Last night was… eventful.”

You smiled with practiced innocence. “Was it?”

“There’s a lot of buzz. About… a mic. And a moment.”

Tom leaned in. “Sound design’s a funny thing, innit? Could’ve been a technical issue.”

You deadpanned, eyes cool: “Sometimes… you really feel the performance.”

The interviewer blinked.

Tom added, voice a purr: “I like to support her work.”

She stammered something about Twitter and going viral.

You sipped your water. “Tom’s talented.”

He smiled like sin. “She’s vocal.”

You nodded solemnly. “Always support local artists.”

The interviewer gave up.

The internet exploded. Again.

“‘support her work’ IS CODE FOR EATING HER OUT BEFORE SHOWTIME.”

“their media training is nonexistent and i’m obsessed.”

“they are deranged and in love and i would die for either of them.”

“he said ‘support her work’ and she said ‘he’s talented.’ baby that’s not flirting, that’s foreplay.”

TikTok edits hit like a tsunami.

Caption: “TOM HARDY LOOKS AT HER LIKE SHE’S GOD.”

Song: Rihanna’s “S&M.”

Clips: Tom licking his lips mid-interview, you whispering something in his ear, one distorted cut of your moan at 0.75x speed.

A girl sobbing into her ring light: “THEY FLIRT LIKE FOREPLAY AND I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH.”

Caption: “Tom Hardy’s hands are the real problem.”

30 seconds of slow-motion clips: Tom’s hands gripping your waist, adjusting his mic, resting casually on your thigh during interviews like they weren’t registered weapons.

2.3 million views in 3 hours.

Instagram Reels? Just loops of Tom saying “She’s vocal,” comments:

“he said it with his whole dick in love.”

“i need to go lie down.”

“he’s not acting. he’s possessed.”

Merch dropped the next day.

Minimalist font. Black hoodies. Just said: “She’s Vocal.”

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You’re sprawled across the bed, silk robe barely hanging on, one shoulder exposed, thighs parted like a half-written invitation. The glow of your screen lights your face as you scroll — red carpet stills, backstage selfies, a grainy, almost pornographic shot of Tom with his teeth in your neck, your lipstick smeared across his jaw in a hotel elevator.

He walks in from the bathroom, towel slung low, still damp, skin flushed from the shower. He sees your expression first, then your screen.

“What’s on your mind?”

You tilt your head, smiling slow and wicked. “I was thinking… we already have the audio of you eating me out. What about the video?”

He pauses, water beading on his chest, eyes narrowing with suspicion and heat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You drag your gaze down his chest, down to the barely-clinging towel. “I want to record us.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind,” he mutters.

You grin wider. “Little bit.”

“You think I want this shit leaked? ‘Tom Hardy Sex Tape’ trending while I’m buying cereal?”

You drag a finger up your thigh, slow, deliberate, tracing the inside with teasing flicks. “No one’s leaking anything. This is just for us.”

You tilt your chin, letting your voice go soft, coaxing: “You don’t trust me?”

His jaw flexes. “I trust you. I don’t trust your iCloud password to be strong enough to not get hacked.”

You blink, mock-offended. “Oh, come on.”

He snorts — then stops short when you say it:

“I want to watch you ruin me.”

His chest rises sharply. Breath caught.

“I want to see your hands around my throat. I want to hear the way I scream when you fuck me. I want to remember what your face looks like when you’re inside me. When I’m coming all over you.”

Tom swears under his breath. “Fucking hell…”

And then —

“Pass me the fuckin’ phone.”

It starts slow.

His hands slide up your thighs, thumbs circling, mapping every inch like it’s his first time all over again, except this time, there’s a lens watching. Recording.

And that’s what makes your breath stutter when he pushes your knees apart, spreading you open under the warm, amber lamplight.

“Camera’s rolling,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking up. “Say something for me.”

You smirk. Voice syrup-sweet.

“What should I say, daddy?”

His eyes go black. Pupils blown. You’ve got him.

“Come here and tell the camera how much you love sucking this cock.”

You do.

On your knees, plush and obedient, robe falling open over your shoulders and pooling around your waist. Completely bare underneath. Nipples tight, stomach fluttering, dripping down your thighs before you’ve even touched him.

Your hand wraps around his thick length — slow, reverent, greedy. Fingers barely meeting around the girth. He twitches in your palm, precum slicking your thumb.

You whimper, breath warm against the head as you press soft, open-mouthed kisses down his shaft — tongue teasing the slit, dragging along that thick, throbbing vein that runs beneath.

“I love it so much,” you whisper, stroking slow, tongue dragging along the vein. “Best cock I’ve ever had. Ever tasted.”

Tom groans low in his throat, a feral sound, deep and cracked open. His arm flexes as he tilts the camera downward, angling it to catch every filthy inch of what you’re doing to him.

“Look at her,” he pants. “Perfect fuckin’ mouth. Takes me so good. She’s fuckin’ starving for it. Fuckin’ love you, baby—”

Your lips part wider. You lick a thick stripe up the underside, then suck the tip in hard, cheeks hollowing around him. Eyes fluttering. Throat relaxing.

He groans, fingers twitching at the base, watching the way his cock disappears down your throat, inch by inch, until your nose presses against his pelvis.

You choke — just a little. Just enough. The sound makes his hand tighten in your hair.

You moan around him, the vibration pulling another deep curse from his chest. You hollow your cheeks more. Drool slips down your chin, glistening in the lens.

“She loves it,” he growls into the lens, voice tight with restraint, jaw clenched like it’s killing him not to cum already. “Look at this little slut. Fuckin’ addicted.”

Then he hands the phone to you — slow, deliberate.

You blink up, pupils blown, spit-slick lips swollen. Fingers trembling as you take the phone in one hand… and his cock in the other.

Still stroking. Still needy. Still aching.

“You wanna watch yourself fuck my face, daddy?” you whisper, lips brushing his tip again, eyes gleaming.

And then you angle the phone down, give it the perfect view as you take him back into your mouth — sloppier this time. Louder. Messier.

You gag when he thrusts, and the sound sends him over the edge.

“Fuck… stop,” His breath shudders. “Your turn now.”

You’re flat on your back now, legs spread, camera shaking in your grip as you film him tongue-deep in your cunt, eyes locked on your, groaning against your pussy like he’s fucking starving. His hands grip your thighs hard, pulling you closer with every lick, jaw working, nose buried, and those wild eyes locked on yours.

He groans as he tastes you, lapping slow, then faster, then harder — holding your hips down when you buck up. You can hear the sounds on the recording — wet, obscene, slick, every lap, every slick drag of tongue against your soaked folds.

You’re panting, breathless. “He doesn’t stop until you beg,” you say, voice shaking. “I’ve tried. He doesn’t stop.”

Tom lifts his head, chin soaked. He grins. Cocky. Filthy. Proud.

“Fucking right I don’t.”

You try to keep the phone steady, filming the way his tongue flicks your clit, the way your thighs are trembling, the way your toes curl against the sheets, heels digging in like you’re trying to run from it—except you’re not. You want more.

“Make me cum on camera, Tom,” you gasp.

His tongue answers faster than words. You moan so loud the sound spikes the recording.

You scream. The camera tips. Shakes. Then tumbles to the sheets.

You’re now filming yourself as you ride him — your body rocking, hips rolling, that soaked little pussy taking him all the way in, again and again and again. The camera catches everything: the bounce of your tits, the sheen of sweat on your chest, the obscene way his cock disappears into your soaked heat.

You dip your fingers down, stroke your clit, gliding through your own slick, whispering to the camera, “Look how wet I am. All for him. Only for my man.”

“Fuck, baby,” Tom grunts, one hand gripping your ass, the other adjusting the angle. “Look at this cunt. Mine. So fuckin’ tight and wet.”

You whimper again, roll your hips deeper, and his cock drags against every sensitive spot inside you — slow, hot friction that makes your whole body tremble. The sound of you soaking him fills the room.

“Give me the phone,” he growls. “Wanna film your pretty face. Wanna see that pretty little face when you cum on me.”

He takes the phone with one hand, the other grabbing your jaw, tilting your face up for the camera, and for him. Your mouth is open, eyes glassy, tits bouncing with every thrust.

He’s holding your jaw now, whispering, “Show the camera. Show ’em what this cunt was made for—mine. All fuckin’ mine.”

You sob his name.

Over and over. Louder each time.

“Say it louder,” he pants. “Let the camera hear how I fuck the words outta you.”

“Tom—fuck, deeper—please—don’t stop—don’t stop—” You’re gasping, voice shrill and wild. Your clit grinding against his pelvis, your thighs clenching around his waist, your whole body twitching with every thrust.

“That’s right, babe. Let ‘em hear what my cock does to you.”

The final scene? Pure filth.

He’s got you bent over, cheek to the sheets, hair in his fist, cock pounding into you so deep it makes your legs give out.

One hand tangled in your hair. The other holds the camera. Zoomed in on your cunt. The way it grips him. The way it drools around him every time he slams in.

“This is my favorite view,” he groans, breath ragged. “Watch this when I’m gone. Fuck yourself to it. Promise me.”

Your voice breaks, sobbing. “I’ll cum to it. I’ll cum so fuckin’ hard.”

He grits out a curse, pounding harder, the slap of skin-on-skin loud and merciless.

“Mmm—f-fuck, Tom—ohmygod—right there—don’t stop—don’t stop—”

“Look at you,” he rasps. “Fucked open. Cryin’. So fuckin’ desperate for it…That’s it, babe. Cum on my cock. Make a fuckin’ mess of me again.”

“Tom—fuck—I’m—I’m—” Your voice shatters. “I’m cumming—fuck—I’m cumming—”

He growls your name. His thrusts go erratic. “Fuck—fuck, babe—I’m—shit—I’m cumming too—”

Your body jerks. You cum loud, wet, soaking him, legs shaking, ass slapping back into his hips as he fills you, deep and hot, with a strangled groan.

“Keep the camera on me,” you gasp, eyes glazed. “Don’t stop filming.”

So he does.

He films himself kissing your shoulder, stroking your hair, then slipping two fingers into your still-dripping cunt, pushing his cum back inside you, slow and possessive.

“That’s where it belongs,” he murmurs.

You both collapse into the sheets, breathless, sore, laughing through the haze.

Tom rolls to his side, grabs the phone, and films you one last time:

Flushed. Glowing. Fucked out and grinning.

“You’re gonna watch this every time I’m gone,” he says, voice low.

You smile, voice hoarse. “Gonna send you timestamps.”

And then—

Fade to black.

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A/N: Okay, so this was just a silly little idea I threw together in about an hour — hope you enjoy it anyway! The final part of the Alfie series is dropping this Saturday, and I’m also working on the third and final chapter of the Already Ruined fic with Harry.

To everyone who’s requested Harry and Alfie fics: I see you, I love you, and I promise I’m working on them, thank you for your patience🩷🩷

Thanks for all the love and support.

[jakegyllenbaalz]

tom hardy myspace rabbit hole is not for the weak

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝PUSHING THE LIMITS.❞

(not my gif)

summary: eddie might fuck you good, but venom pushes your limits.

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, nasty ass smut, surprised-myself-while-writing-it kind of smut, sorta dubcon towards the end, oral sex f and m receiving, sticky tendrils and tentacles and appendages and such, bondage using v's tendrils, hair pulling, spanking, double penetration, eddie spitting in reader's mouth, eddie slaps reader's cheek a lil bit in the beginning, overstimulation central, names like "good girl", "sweet angel", "sweet girl", "beautiful girl"... don't wanna hype myself up too much, but i think y'all are gonna be eating good while reading this one. monsterfucking. i am definitely not getting into heaven, so make my sacrifice worth it and grab some popcorn!

word count: 2k

a/n: if you've ever wanted me to write a sequel for fics like "take the reins" and "don't pretend", this is for you. i can't believe this is my official return to fic writing LMAO, but we're pretending like i never left! (yes i know i posted my last fic in april.) i hope you enjoy, please give me some feedback for this one!

//////

“Gooooood fuckin’ girl.”

You struggled to hide your wince as Eddie harshly slapped your cheek again: you were on your knees, your face raised to look at him as he knelt over you, directing your face in whatever way he wanted it to go. Some parts sweet, some parts rough - whether it was pulling your hair until your cunt twinged with need, or spitting in your mouth when it got too dry for him to fuck, or how fucking good his cock felt when it was shoved into your mouth, you took all of it enthusiastically. 

You hadn’t heard Venom’s commentary in a while, but at least Eddie seemed to be enjoying himself.

“That’s great, honey,” Eddie gasped as he slipped the tip of his cock in your mouth again: you sucked on it dutifully, slathering your spit over his already glistening length, but throughout all of it, your eyes were locked on his face.

He was almost out of breath just from watching you. “Jeez, that’s fuckin’ nasty…”

Overachieving, you responded by taking his whole length into your mouth until the tip of his cock slammed into your uvula and you were forced to gag.

You meant to stay there, but Eddie’s hand was buried in your hair very suddenly, tugging you backward: he evidently hadn’t been expecting that.

“Easy, honey,” he told you. “It’s not every day I got a girl jumping all over me, y’know.”

You sat back on the bed and stuck out your tongue for him, grinning widely. “Sorry.”

Inside his head, Venom scoffed.

PUSSY.

“N-no, don’t be sorry for anything,” Eddie managed to say to you as he allowed his cock into your mouth again, determined to keep Venom at bay inside his thoughts. “Feels so fucking good, just like that…”

Sucking him off until he came had to be the plan, you figured, so you kept going, keeping your tongue flat along his length as he fucked your mouth. His cock was so goddamn thick, and your tongue kept brushing along a prominent vein as you went. The best part was his hand, firm in your hair, ensuring he was using you in whatever way he wanted.

Meanwhile, Venom’s voice was a reassuring purr in Eddie’s ear.

SHE LOOKS SO GOOD LIKE THIS, EDDIE.

So it came as a bit of a surprise when Eddie decided he wanted to move: he was off of you in an instant, but he was grabbing your leg, indicating he wanted you to move with him.

His voice was soft, almost sweet, keeping you wet. “Up, honey, c’mon.”

Breathless, your heart pounding now that there wasn’t a hand in your hair anymore, you got off your knees and, following his direction, rolled over on the bed.

“Shit,” Eddie commented appreciatively, just before he spanked you harshly. “Pop that up for me, honey.”

Grinning sheepishly, you buried your face in the pillow and lifted your stinging ass in the air for him.

“Fuck,” he gasped as the palm of his hand brushed over your pussy - yeah, you already knew you were dripping, and the humiliation of it made you flush. “You always get this wet just having a dick in your mouth?”

“It’s just you,” you mumbled weakly, which earned your another spank.

“Just me, huh?” Eddie replied, mockingly, making your face burn. “Not V? You’re telling me this pretty pussy’s dripping just because of me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he’d spanked you directly on your pussy this time, making you moan weakly.

“Fuck,” you gasped, burying your face in the pillows. You had a feeling that Venom would’ve teased you endlessly if you moaned for him, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it when your pussy was already this wet, but God, you’d never been more tempted.

Inside his head, Venom was sounding impressed, but he hadn’t revealed himself yet.

KEEP GOING, EDDIE. YOU WILL BREAK HER.

Keeping your head in the pillow, you spread your legs wider for him, trying to expose as much of your pussy as you could. Spurred on by Venom’s praise, Eddie grinned.

“Fucking glistening,” he laughed, running a finger delicately along your drenched pussy, sending sensitive nerves haywire. “What a pussy. I mean, Jesus…”

He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your damp inner thigh, and that simple, two-second touch had your mind speeding out of control with obscenities. No doubt about it, spreading your holes like this turned you on: you could feel your slick running down your inner thighs, and if your brain wasn’t jammed, you would’ve been begging for Eddie for Venom to come out, to finally fuck you.

Breathless with anticipation, you grabbed a fistful of pillows instead and waited patiently, keeping still.

Inside his head, Venom was chomping at the bit, too.

WHEN WILL YOU LET ME OUT, EDDIE?

Just give me a few more minutes, Eddie’s thoughts responded, a bit urgently.

He opted to pretend as though nothing had happened, keeping his control over you.

“Spread your legs more, baby. I want to see how turned on I made you.”

Moaning weakly, you did as he said, spreading your legs to reveal your glistening wet mess of a pussy: you had yet to touch yourself, or do anything to stop the spread of heat in your most sensitive spot, but you felt like if he didn’t touch you soon, you were going to go into cardiac arrest.

You closed your eyes and listen to him move closer.

Eddie’s hands were warm around your thighs, and you could feel him kiss both of your inner thighs - dear god, he’s about to kill you - before he kissed your clit, enveloping it with warmth. 

Everywhere. Oh God.

You gasped weakly. “Oh, Eddie…”

Again, Venom’s voice was a reassuring purr in Eddie’s ear.

YOU ARE UNRAVELLING HER, EDDIE. KEEP GOING.

“That feel good?” he whispered, kissing you softly again.

Well, fucking obviously: you were clutching the pillows above you with all your might, doing your best not to squirm in pleasure. “Eddie, please…”

You were so fucked out you couldn’t finish that sentence, but Eddie knew what it meant, and Venom did too.

LET ME OUT, EDDIE. YOU KNOW SHE WANTS IT.

“You need V, honey?” Eddie whispered from between your legs: he sensed from the growing warmth in his abdomen that he wouldn’t have control over his body for much longer, so he was determined to savour it for as long as he could.

You nodded weakly, flushed with pleasure - Eddie’s tongue may have been a natural, non-monstrous length, but it was pressed to your clit nonetheless, and it would’ve made anybody come after long enough. “Give him to me.”

That did it: Venom came out with a flourish, enveloping Eddie’s body entirely in black goo until he wasn’t Eddie anymore, but tendrilled and sticky and terrifying and one hundred percent Venom.

You almost came at the sight of him. “Oh, V…”

Venom’s tongue protruded from his mouth, licking clean his impressive row of fangs. His milky white eyes might’ve caused others to cower, but you stared directly into them, breathless. It was fascinating, really, how quickly Eddie had disappeared.

Venom’s voice was a deep purr, deeper than anything you’d ever heard.

DID YOU MISS ME, SWEET ANGEL?

“I did, V,” you gasped as a glittering black tendril snuck up your leg, “God, I - I want you so bad.”

Venom cocked his head to the side, watching you intently, like a predator watching its prey.

I TELL EDDIE THAT ALL THE TIME.

You gasped as the appendage finally breached your cunt, pulsating and sticky, giving you exactly the feeling of fullness you wanted. “Oh, Venom…”

The pillow you were clinging onto was gone in a second, replaced by two tendrils pinning your arms onto the bed. Before you knew it, two other tentacles were wrapping around your ankles, fully restricting your ability to move, and there you were, trapped on the bed as Venom was leering above you, his cock sliding in and out of you.

His pace was relatively slow, but you soaked up every pulsing inch succeeded inside of you, and every now and again, he’d make the tendril twist, bringing you closer to the edge every time.

I DON’T EVER THINK I’VE SEEN YOU THIS WET, SWEET ANGEL.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet, your thoughts responded incredulously, but all that came out was a choked, “Ngh!”

You were coming, you knew it, and it still hit you like a fucking freight train: the orgasm rushed through you as blood thundered to your brain, euphoria crashing over you at maximum intensity. Everything welling up inside of you just burst, and nothing had ever been so lovely.

You went deaf for a moment as the only thing you could hear was your heart absolutely pounding and the shrill ringing in your ears, but you knew you were gasping for breath, completely overtaken by this orgasm. You’d never tell Eddie, but it was Venom who knew how to pull orgasms from you like this, and only Venom, his glittering black cock absolutely destroying you from the inside out.

Of course, it was then Venom suddenly decided to slam his cock into you at full force, overstimulating you beautifully.

The confidence in his voice never wavered.

I KNOW YOU CAN TAKE IT, BEAUTIFUL GIRL. I HAVE SEEN YOU TAKE IT.

“Oh, Venom,” you were gasping over and over, but you couldn’t fully hear yourself over the ringing in your ears and the sounds of Venom’s glittering black tendril sliding in and out of your drenched, abused pussy, filling you up to the maximum. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He did the pulsating, twisting thing inside of you once again, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head: when he was pinning you down like this, you had nothing to hold onto, it was just you, the cock inside of you, and the threat of this monstrous creature swallowing you whole. “Oh my god, Venom!”

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT EDDIE SEEING THIS, SWEET GIRL?

“Oh, fuck, Venom…” you moaned from underneath him, incoherent now as his cock pistoned in and out of you. You were blathering, but the message was clear: don’t fucking stop!

Venom was smug, now.

HOW DO YOU FEEL KNOWING I CAN TAKE YOU BETTER THAN EDDIE EVER COULD?

“You’re better than Eddie,” you mumbled incoherently as Venom ramped up speed, “Loads better than Eddie, I just - oh fuck - holy shit, V, keep going!”

WILL YOU COME FOR ME, SWEET ANGEL?

Yes, I will, your thoughts responded immediately, but actions spoke louder than words: your second orgasm ripped through you as your legs shook, you were pushed to the point of insanity. This one really took you by surprise compared to the first, but you revelled in it, your vision flashing with white as Venom fucked into you. You could feel your body sinking into the bed despite the restraints, spent, and you almost thought it was over, but–

Venom, of course, didn’t care.

COME FOR ME AGAIN, BEAUTIFUL GIRL.

“V,” you whispered weakly, your entire body damp with sweat from your last orgasm, “I - I don’t think I can, I just came.”

Above you, Venom absolutely snarled, and his tongue slithered down to force your legs even further apart.

WHEN I SAY COME, YOU COME!

A second, bigger tendril sank into your ass this time, and you gasped: you were filled, completely and utterly filled, and God, you’d be lying if it didn’t feel so fucking wonderful.

“I - I’m gonna come,” you blathered, blinking hard as the realization set in: you were about to come faster than you’d ever come in your life. “I - I’m gonna come, V, holy - oh my god-”

The words I’m coming were lost in your throat, but it didn’t matter: in a matter of seconds, you’d came for a third time, and the euphoria this time around was still there, yet with a bitter and harsh edge. Your body was exhausted, but your pussy was drenched, and all Venom knew was to keep fucking going, so–

You were gasping, half-deaf with your vision flashing with white, trying to make peace with the reality that Venom was going to fuck you until you passed out.

[lovelytsunoda]

you've got me under your spell | eddie brock and venom

summary: the then's and now's of halloween in the brock household

pairing: eddie brock x wife!reader (and their son!) x venom

warnings: i've turned eddie brock from a swagless loser to a dilf, venom is loaned to a child as a halloween costume, venom is almost like a second child tbh, implied smut, brief mentions of mental illness and pregnancy-related mental health issues. not to spoil anything at the end but the final section is pretty fucking funny if i do say so myself.

author's note: i have a very delayed last minute addition to my halloween fics for 2024! after flying through all three venom movies in about two days (as someone who doesn't watch marvel movies, might i add), i am pleased (and a little concerned) to annoucne that eddie brock is now my favourite marvel character.

yes, dylan brock is a canon character in the venom comics (or so i have been told) but all this dylan had in common with the canon version is his name.

2010.

she watched fondly from the doorway as eddie picked up the infant, who was currently trying to crawl towards the white pumpkin in the bay window. dylan laughed in his father's arms as eddie spun around before cradling the infant against his chest. he caught his wife's eyes from the doorway, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked down at dylan.

"hey kiddo, i think mommy's looking at us."

dylan smiled, wide and toothless, letting out the baby equivalent of a cheer as he looked over at his mother.

"are you guys ready to make the rounds? i promised mrs. chen some baby time." y/n laughed, reaching out to hold her son's small hand in hers.

the streets outside were lit up with fog machines and smiling skeletons, filled with the sounds of kids milling about. it was baby brock's first halloween, and he was dressed appropriately for it in his little pumpkin costume. after attempting to suck on y/n's finger, dylan dropped her hand and busied himself with attempting to trace the tattoos visible on eddie's forearm.

eddie beamed, kissing his wife softly before answering. "we're ready if you are. lead the way, mamas."

y/n had never pictured herself as a mother. in her twenties, when it seemed like settling down was the only thing people her age wanted to do, she was paralyzed with fear, insecurity and a little bit of self-loathing. being inside of her head was a nightmare, and she wasn't even sure she'd make it to thirty.

things had started to change when she met eddie brock.

slowly, she came alive again. she started to want things that she had thought were out of reach. she wanted to get married, have that house and that family and the white picket fence. to know that everything she had done had added up to this moment, and that everything had been worth it.

but she hated being pregnant. for her, growing another human being had been an arduous, terrifying experience. the eight hours of labour she had gone through on the day dylan was born was enough for her to decide that she didn't want more kids, and that she could still have the family she dreamed of with only one child.

she kissed dylan's forehead softly, brushing back his thin baby hair before tucking the small pumpkin hat onto his little head, and over his small ears.

the couple walked down the front steps of their bungalow, one of eddies arms around his wife, and the other holding his son (which was quite the feat, considering that the infant so desperately wanted out of his father's arms. dylan was an active baby, but he was allowed to crawl down the residential street, he would do so at such a pace that the brocks would never get him back.)

at every house they went to there was someone to coo over the littlest brock. eventually, eddie had to drop that arm around his wife so that he could use both hands to hold his son. dylan smiled that wide, gummy smile and laughed and babbled at all of the people that they passed, y/n clutching an almost-full orange bag of candy (she was convinced that some of their neighbours gave out extra candy to the couple, simply to reward them with the hit of caffeine found in chocolate that the new parents would so crave).

as they walked towards mrs. chen's house, dylan finally settled in his fathers arms, eddie looked over at his wife with nothing but reverence and love in his eyes. even carrying a little bit of extra weight around her hips and stomach, her breasts a little fuller and her arms a little chubbier, she was as radiant as she was the day that they got married. he would do anything for her, for his son. his little family.

"eddie, darling." she laughed, turning to face him. "you're staring."

eddie blushed, the rose in his cheeks barely visible in the dark. "uh, no i'm not."

"yes you are." she giggled. "i love you, eddie brock."

"i love you more." eddie beamed, leaning over to kiss her. "i think the little guy is worn out." he spoke softly, nodding towards the baby in his arms. "he's asleep."

"awe." y/n cooed, gently stroking her son's arm with her pointer finger. the sight of eddie holding their son in his arms would never grow old. she was starting a folder of pictures on her laptop of this very thing, as she knew dylan would soon be too big for his father to hold. "he's just like his father. he can go to sleep any time, any where and in any condition."

eddie laughed. "i feel like there was an insult buried in there somewhere."

"i still married you, didn't i?"

2024.

"dylan, if you want to get to eric's on time, you've gotta get going now! his mom's on the way!"

y/n knocked on her son's door, waiting until she heard the disgruntled teenage groan from the other side. satisfied that dylan had been served enough warning, she headed back out into the living room.

she had put eddie in charge of moving the halloween candy from the massive carboard costco boxes to the festive plastic bowls, and he was doing a surprisingly okay job at it.

their life had changed drastically in the years since her husband had begun to share his body with a symbiote. the symbiote had once given dylan nightmares, and she had fielded one too many concerned calls from the school after he had gone around and told all of the other kids that his father was an alien and would eat anybody who was mean to him (although, once eddie and venom had bonded, venom was steadfast in his commitment to eating any bullies that dylan may face) it had taken time, and a lot of home repairs to get used to, but alas, venom now felt like one of the family.

well, more like the cousin you don't want any of your friends to meet. or the alien that your husband is in a strangely homeorotic relationship with.

"i thought venom would have eaten half of those by now." she remarked, leaning over the back of the sofa to rest her head on her husband's shoulder, hands on his chest.

"i made him promise to behave today. i don't want him scaring the little kids." eddie shrugged, turning his had to kiss his wife softly.

"what did you have to give him?"

eddie paused, waiting a beat in order to formulate an answer that wouldn't send his wife into a spiral. in the distance, he heard dylan's bedroom door open and close, and then the fourteen-year-old came bounding into the living room.

"eric's mom is like five minutes away. is it okay if i wait outside?"

keeping her hands on eddie shoulders, y/n straightened, looking over at her son. "no costume?'

she didn't miss the way that eddie's muscles tensed up under her hands, or the way dylan's pinkie finger twitched. neither of them said a word, and when her eyes zeroed in on the full boxes of nestle chocolates, she got her answer.

"edward brock, please tell me that you did not lend your symbiote to our son as a halloween costume!"

dylan's shoulder rippled black over the top of his hunter-green sweatshirt, venom's inky head materializing next to a defeated looking dylan.

"okay, we won't tell you." the symbiote said , turning to face eddie. "you told me that this was okay with mrs. b."

eddie got up from the couch, pointing a finger at the symbiote. "i said no such thing. i said we were never supposed to tell y/n under any circumstances."

"mom, it's only for the night. you let dad have venom year-round!" dylan protested, stuffing his hands in his sweater pockets. "how is this any different?"

y/n stopped and counted to twenty, eyes closed before she breathed deeply and opened them again.

"that's because your father is the one who brought venom into this house in the first place, and i didn't get a say in the matter. also, your father is an adult, and venom actually listens to him."

"i listen to nobody!"

eddie coughed. "actually, he doesn't listen to me at all. he does what he wants half of the time."

"not the point, eddie! hosting venom almost killed you."

"actually- "

"not now vee!" eddie and y/n shouted together.

eddie reached for his wife's hand, knowing that she needed something to ground her, something tangible that she could hold on to. his hand was warm and calloused, comforting. she ran her thumb over eddie's knuckles as he stepped closer, dropping his voice in the hopes that dylan and venom wouldn't be able to eavesdrop.

"y/n, you know that i wouldn't let dylan take venom out if i didn't think he could handle it. its just one night."

"eddie, venom eats people. i don't want to get calls from parents stating that their sons hung out with my son, and then they came back headless."

"he has sworn to be on his best behavior tonight." eddie insisted. "and besides, when was the last time we had a night that was just the two of us? no dylan, no venom."

she paused, trying to think, the calm was starting to ease back into her body, the initial panic subsiding. her husband was right, she knew. while nights without dylan had become more common the older he got, with the boy staying over at friend's houses or going out late with his buddies, having a husband who hosted an alien sometimes put a damper on date night.

for the past five years, she had felt like she was in a never-ending threesome. don't get her wrong, the sex was absolutely phenomenal, but she missed her husband. she missed the days when it was just the two of them, curled up in bed on a sunday afternoon, with reruns of a bad sitcom playing in the background as they made love without a care in the world.

she realized that she was excited at the idea of having sex with her husband without an alien tentacle trying to slip into her ass (which felt absolutely incredible, by the way. after the first time venom did that, she downloaded all the monsterfucking books she could find on kindle unlimited. trying to explain the plot of ice planet barbarians to eddie had been quite the spectacle).

a honk in the front driveway snapped her out of her thoughts. dylan was looking at her expectantly, venom's head still hovering in the air next to him. if it were possible for symbiotes to give puppy dog eyes, she was sure that venom would be doing so. she looked at eddie, and then back at dylan, weighing her options.

"fine. dylan, you can take venom with you."

venom and dylan gave a cheer, the teen high-fiving one of venom's slinky tentacles.

"i promise not to eat any of the children, mrs. b. only gourmet chocolate. dylan says tonight is the best night for it."

"go on." y/n laughed. "don't keep eric waiting. and be careful!"

eddie and y/n stood by the front window, eddie's hand in her back pocket as they watched dylan run down the driveway and jump into the back of eric's mom's nissan. he had grown up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he was an infant in a pumpkin costume, cradled in eddie's strong arms. now he was almost as tall as his father.

y/n let out a small yelp as she felt herself become weightless, her husband's strong, beefy arms wrapped around her thighs.

"baby, be careful! you aren't as strong without venom! i don't want you to hurt your back!"

"i'll be fine! we have a heating pad for a reason!"

the headed down the hallway in a cloud of giggles, eddie kicking the bedroom door closed behind them with a cheeky grin on his face.

oh yeah, they were going to enjoy every second of having the house to themselves.

____

it was nearing midnight when dylan brock came home, shocked to find his father in the living room, sitting on the sofa in the dark and wincing every time he moved.

"dad? what are you doing? where's mom?"

eddie groaned, trying not to move too much. the heating pad rested against his lower back, and any movement sent a sharp pain up his spine. "she's asleep. tired out."

dylan made a face, dropping his backpack next to the couch. "god damn it, dad! i don't need to know that!"

eddie chuckled. "not like that." well, sort of like that. "this week has been hard on her. between you, me and venom, she's got her hands full."

"what's the heating pad for?" dylan crossed his arms over his chest, staring his father down.

"i hurt my back. it's nothing, not important."

"oh my god! you hurt your back banging mom!"

"dylan, keep your voice down! your mother is sleeping!" eddie scolded, screwing his eyes shut. "and she doesn't know. there is nothing less sexy than pinching something in your back while-"

"stop. please. i don't want to know."

"anyways, i waited until she fell asleep to put some muscle spray on it, and that didn't help, so here i am with the heating pad. how was your night?"

"it was good. venom's fun. we went trick-or-treating around eric's neigbourhood, where all the fancy houses are. also, i think i know what possum brain tastes like." dylan scrunched up his face. "venom decided he'd eaten enough snickers bars."

"snickers are for the weak." venom grunted. "real men eat brains."

eddie laughed. "now you know what the inside of my head is like. at least venom didn't try to eat any people. i wish i never knew what grey matter tasted like."

dylan extended his hand. "it's been fun, but i think he wants his host back."

eddie took dylan's hand in his, inhaling as he felt venom fill his veins once more, the familiar voice he'd come to tolerate returning to the back of his mind. slowly, the stinging pain in his lower back started to subside, the symbiote healing him from the inside out.

"thanks buddy. i needed that." he sighed. "and thanks for looking after dylan."

"no problem, eddie. you know, you'd get hurt less around the house if you stopped doing silly things when i'm not here."

"hey dylan, do you want the symbiote back?"

dylan laughed, heading to his room. "not a chance, dad. you're the only person in the world who could handle him."

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Aromatic

Sex Pollen!Eddie Brock|Venom x Spider-Girl!Reader

Summary: After a failed fight with a local villain, Venom and the Reader find themselves overwhelmed by some gas that was sprayed on them.

CW: choking, oral f!receiving, p in v, creampie, breeding kink,

a/n: so sorry this took so long, I’ve been stressed out here lately! I’m leaving the villain ambiguous so you can decide who it is as you read :)

~~~

Cold Autumn air cut through your suite like a knife. Swinging around the city as the sun went down, checking for any sign of mischief. Catching a glimpse of one of your partners in an alleyway. Deciding to check-in on him and see what was going on.

You crawled slowly down the wall behind him. Sneaking up to see if maybe there was something he was hiding.

"I know you're there," his deep voice rumbled in your ears.

Venom. An alien symbiote. Vigilante by night. Not entirely sure who his human vestige was underneath. Always curious, but never willing to ask.

You hopped off the wall with a sigh. Landing directly behind him, "Your senses are getting better."

"I can always smell you coming," he chuckled with a grin on his face. Your cheeks flushed under your mask. There always was a hint of flirtation between the two of you. You jokingly sniffed your armpit, “Do I really smell that bad?”

Venom scoffed, “Of course not.” A small sting of embarrassment on his tone. Like something deep inside him did not want to offend you.

You felt your senses go into overdrive. Whipping your head around in the direction you were being called to. Leading your gaze into the small view of the streets you had from the alleyway. Hearing the familiar laugh of the villain you had been tracking for weeks now.

“Come on,” you instructed him as you thwipped a web up, pulling yourself higher. Landing on top of the building surrounding you. Staring at the new machine they created. A giant vessel holding some colorful liquid on its back. Giant legs hoisting it up as it rampaged down the streets. Clamping down on cars and throwing them into buildings.

You and Venom diving down head first into the battle. Venom stopping the newly thrown car mid air before it struck a mother and her child. Your webs wrapping themselves around the arms of the machine, pulling and pinning them backwards. The villain shooting a dreadful look at you.

“So this is what you’ve been up to? Thought you were just scared to see me,” you mocked as you shot webs against the arms, pinning it to the ground.

“Pesky bug!” They shouted at you, fingers rapidly pressing buttons on the board of the machine. Watching as a canon extended from the back of it. Feeling your senses tingle every end of your nerves.

“VENOM! WATCH OUT!” You called out as you swung over to your partner. Attempting to shield him from whatever attack was coming from the villain. Your body moving without thinking to his defense.

Gas poured from the cone-shaped end. Surprising you that a missile of some kind didn’t fire out. Thick smog filled the entire street you were in. Fogging up your vision and burning your nose.

You both coughed as the dust coated the insides of your noses and throats.

"What the hell was that?!" Venom growled, noticing the villain had disappeared in front of you.

"I have no idea," you coughed out, "I don't feel any different. Not noticing any physical changes."

"Maybe it was just a distraction," Venom groaned frustrated that you had let them get away. Slamming his giant fist into the nearby concrete. Quiet cursed grumbled under his breath as he jumped back to the ground. You followed closely behind, shooting a web and sliding down it. Feeling a ting in your heart for him.

Walking over and flattening your hand against his back, “We’ll get them next time.”

The monster sighed.

Your chest jumped. The growl on his voice vibrating through your entire body. You swallowed heavy as you awkwardly removed your hand from him. His white eyes looking over his shoulder at you. Widening when they met yours.

“I’ve got to go,” Venom forced his head forward. Rushing off from you. Somewhere you were unsure of. An abrupt end to your nightly routine.

You headed home. Swinging along the large glass buildings in your city. Jumping down a hidden part of the alley next to your apartment. Grabbing your bag you had hid and changing clothes.

Your body went through the familiar motions as you walked up to your apartment. A haze around your vision, your mind somewhere else entirely. Unsure why you felt what you were, but focusing on the one thing that cleared up your fog.

Venom.

Your large alien partner in crime. Well— stopping crime. Ever since you had parted ways after your failed face off today, he was the only thing you could focus on. How gentle he always was with you, his deep voice, how effortlessly flirty he was with you during your endeavors, his tongue—

Oh God.

You felt every last vein in your body run hot. Tingling spreading from between your thighs throughout your body. Fumbling as you tried to get your key in the lock, hunching over at the deep sensation taking over your body. Your breath hitched in your throat.

- click -

Fuck, finally.

You stormed into your apartment. Arms wrapped around your chest. Your clothes feeling extra tight. Sweat bubbled along your body. You fanned yourself with your hands. Rushing into your kitchen to open the freezer. Cool air persisting your sudden sweats. Nothing was cooling you off.

You stumbled down your hallway as your core throbbed, an unspeakable feeling seizing your figure. Grabbing the box fan from the closet. Hurrying into the living room and plugging it in. Slumping against your couch directly in front of the fan. Growing agitated at the feeling swirling deep inside you. Unsure how to calm it.

A loud knock at your door made you sit completely up.

Why didn't your spider-sense warn you?

Walking over to look through the peephole. A man with a beard wearing a black leather jacket stood before your door. Not someone you had recognized before. Something inside you begged for you to open the door.

"Hello?"

The man awkwardly smiled at you. A hint of sweat on his forehead. "Uh- Yeah, hi," his eyes darted around the stairwell.

"Can I help you?"

"I think you can actually," he sighed, seeming like there was something he wanted to say. You could see his tongue moving around in his mouth as if he was feeling out the words before saying them.

Suddenly, black ooze began morphing around his arm. Quickly taking the shape of Venom's head in front of you. "We need to come in now," Venom insisted. Your body instinctively moved out of the way allowing them inside.

"How did you find where I live?"

"Do you feel it too?"

You blushed. Completely overtaken by the smell of him. The musky cologne mixed with the sweat on his skin. How his plump lips begged you to plant yours against them. The way his dark eyes stared into yours.

When you suddenly realized. He was feeling the same way you had been all afternoon. The deep burning inside you. The way your body ached and craved another. One that you could not put a finger on until now. It was him.

"Yes," you breathlessly said. Following close behind him.

"I told you so," Venom hissed in the man's face. He held up a hand, pushing him away from his face. "I'm Eddie by the way," he smiled at you, "We've kinda knew each other through some costumes before now." You returned his smile. Feeling a connection to him beyond understanding. Almost like you had known him forever.

“So— uh… guess we need to talk about this? It had to be whatever that psycho sprayed us with earlier. I’m not exactly sure what the side effects are, but I’ve been feeling—��

“Aroused?” Venom blatantly asked, embarrassing his human half. Eddie reached out attempting to cover Venom’s mouth. Pink decorating his cheeks at the aliens lack of social skills. Both of you sharing in your color filled facing.

“Sorry about him—“

“No— No I think he’s right,” you walked over to Eddie and Venom. Locking eyes with Eddie. Both of your bodies instinctively meeting each other. His hands splaying around your lower back, your arms wrapping around his neck. A warmth rising between you. Spreading throughout your body from where his hands met your skin.

“Have you been feeling it too, Eddie?”

His tongue came out to wet his lip. Dark eyes examining your face, pupils blown in lust. A sigh of a “yes” falling from him as he leaned in to plant his lips on yours. Tenderly you kissed back and forth. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Soft groans sharing between kisses. Taste of your shared saliva filling your senses.

Eddie’s kisses turned hungry. One hand roaming up your body to tangle in your hair, deepening your connected mouths. He led you backwards, the back of your legs hitting the couch. Bending as you sat back, Eddie’s arms pinned on either side of your head. Your lips parting as you stared at each other. Black pupils stared into yours. Feeling yourself grow lost in his presence. Needing him all over you.

“You smell delicious,” Venom’s deep voice huffed into your ear from behind. Turning your head to meet his gaze. Not even noticing he had crept up behind you while his host hovered over you. A tentacle of ooze wrapping around your neck and pinning you back against the couch. Ripping the air out of your lungs with his strength. Eddie’s lips kissed along your jawline, “Tell us if you want to stop.” You nodded in acknowledgment.

Your eyes squinted shut as their touches stimulated you. Eddie trailed down your body, knees hitting your floor. Fingers traced the waist of your shorts, playing with the elastic. Deep blue eyes stared up at your arched neck. Pressure left your neck as Venom retreated. Taking a deep breath that had been escaping you. Leaning your gaze forward to meet his eyes.

"May I?" Eddie hooked his finger around your waistband.

"Please-"

Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. The sensation of his hands barely touching your skin sending shivers through you. He admired the darkened fabric of your panties as your core leaked for him. A goofy grin coming across his face. His hot breath fanned at your clothed entry. He leaned forward planting an open mouth kiss against you. Your hips lunged forward at the sudden contact. His hands gripped your thighs firmly holding you in place. "I'll make you feel good," he promised breathlessly. Eyes fixated on the faint image of your pussy in front of him. The smell of your arousal sending him over the edge. Animal like urges taking over. A strong hand ripped your panties off in one swipe. Eddie's brows raised in shock. Looking up at you with an awkward smile, a faint "sorry" escaping him.

Dipping in, his tongue swiping up your entrance. Your breath growing shaky, head falling onto the back of the couch. Trying your best to let him take control. Dying to grind into his face and ride his tongue. One of your hands tangled in his hair, lacing your fingers through it. A grunt vibrated through you when you pulled his hair a little harder than intended. One of his fingers circled your entrance, coating it in your juices before sliding it inside. Curving it with each slow and long thrust. Eddie's name a loud moan from you.

It rang in their ears. Venom inside Eddie's mind telling him to keep going until he had you a squirming mess. Fueling the fire that burned inside Eddie. His hard-on throbbing and begging to be inside you. Whatever had taken over the two of you stinging his skin. Your taste on his tongue turning him on even more.

Your orgasm was approaching at a rapid pace. Your legs were shaking with the magic Eddie worked on you. You were panting, eyes squinted shut in pure ecstasy. You felt Eddie rocking back and forth differently than before. Looking down to see him humping into your couch while still going down on you. Hot breath hitting your core as he continued sucking on your sensitive nub. Your eyes met, holding together. Eddie's brows contorted slightly, wanting nothing more than to be inside you. You could feel the coil inside you about to unwind. One more curve of Eddie's finger had it washing over you. A loud moan escaping you as you gripped his head for support. Forcing yourself further onto his face.

"That's it," Eddie cooed.

You sighed, your body relaxing into the sofa. Your hole still gripping around his finger post orgasm. Slowly, he removed his finger from you. Huffing as he rested his head against your quivering thigh, a wide grin on his face. Admiring how your chest rose and fell with every harsh breath you took. He held his finger up in front of his face staring at how your orgasm coated his finger. Pushing it between his lips and cleaning it off. Lingering in the taste of you.

"Eddie..."

"Yes?"

"Please, I need you to fuck me," you begged. He sighed heavily. Rising to his feet in front of you. Dropping his jacket from his shoulders, then pulling his shirt off. Undoing his belt and dropping it into the floor. Scooping you up into his arms effortlessly. Strength clearly from his symbiotic partner. "I thought you'd never ask," Eddie smiled at you, kissing your lips. Taking you down the hall where he assumed your bedroom was. Pretending the monster in his mind was not leading him to the area strongest of your scent. That's how Venom had taken him here to begin with. When they both were overcome with a desire they could not relieve themselves. The symbiote begged Eddie to allow him to go to you. You were what they desired.

Eddie sat you onto your feet, hands grazing up your sides as his forehead rested against yours. Lips locking with yours. Tongue exploring your mouth. Hands groped your chest. Pinching at your sensitive nipples through the fabric. Hands finding their way under your shirt, dancing up your back to the clasp of your bra. Fingers effortlessly undoing it. Pulling your shirt and bra off in one clean motion. Lips attaching to the soft skin of your chest. Sucking purple marks into them as his fingers rolled your nipples.

"Your skin is so soft," he moaned into you.

You moaned, grinding your knee into his erection. Hands circling his waist, dipping into the band of his jeans. Playing with his boxer-briefs underneath. Undoing the button and zipper. Hand delving down and wrapping around his thinly clothed cock. Eddie's hips rutted at your touch. Smiling into your skin.

Suddenly you felt yourself get thrown back onto your bed. Nude body on complete display for them. Eddie's wide eyes stared at you. Venom had grown impatient. Deciding he could no longer wait to be inside you.

"I want her now, Eddie," Venom growled in his face.

Eddie dropped his jeans and boxers. Hard cock springing free. You felt your mouth watering at the sight. Spreading your legs, inviting them in. That burn inside you igniting again. He stepped in front of you on the edge of the bed. Hand gripping his erection, pumping it. His brows furrowed, "Not what I need." His head tilted to the side as he eyed your body.

His toned body leaned on top of yours. Muscles flexing as he held himself up, other hand guiding himself at your entrance. Circling your folds with the tip. "Fuck, Eddie," you moaned. Forcing yourself down on him just enough to take his head in. Eddie groaned at the feeling, "Ah- Y/N, goddammit."

Eddie planted a strong kiss against yours lips as he sheathed himself inside you. Rolling his hips, allowing you to adjust to him. An instant relief overtaking you both. Exactly what you needed.

You felt ooze touching every inch of your body. Venom wrapped himself around you, wanting to feel as close to you as Eddie was. Stimulating your sensitive body, pinching at your hardened nipples, wrapping around your wrists and interlocking with your fingers. Far more intimate than you thought he was capable of. "Pretty thing," his voice boomed inside your ears.

Eddie continued his thrusts inside you. Face contorted at the relief he felt. Your insides cooling the burn he had been feeling. Walls coaxing him further inside you, practically sucking him in. Needing him all over you. Loving the attention Venom was giving you. The symbiote finding his way down to your clit. Circling it.

Your back arched. Moaning loudly at the feeling. Overstimulation taking over your senses. Losing yourself as Eddie's cock hit the spongey spot inside you that had you seeing stars. Breath hitching in your throat as your eyes rolled back into your head. Your cunt contorted around his member as they got you closer to your edge.

"I could fuck you forever," Eddie groaned as he leaned down closer to you. Lips tangling together as your wrapped your arms and legs around him. Pulling your bodies flush together. Venom spreading across both your bodies. Connecting you more than you had ever been with anyone else. You began meeting Eddie's thrusts with your own. Needing him to fill you up.

"Want us to breed you?" Venom licked his lips, "Dirty girl..."

You and Eddie's eyes locked. Lust blown pupils staring into each other. Both your mouths hung open, sharing the same air. He cocked an eyebrow at you, asking the same question that Venom had.

"Cum inside me, Eddie," you moaned, breath escaping you as he thrusted harder into you.

Hips snapped into you. Harsh and sloppy thrusts. Venom continued circling your sensitivity in an attempt to get you both to finish at the same time.

"Come on, Eddie," Venom snarled, "Fill her cunt up."

Eddie's face rested in the crook of your neck as he searched for both your highs. Grunting with each snap of his hips. "Yo-You have the per-perfect pussy," Eddie praised you as he felt your walls begin to tighten around him.

You came undone around him. Walls spasming around his cock. Pushing him over his own edge. Eddie shot hot up inside you, coating your walls with his seed. Pushing himself as deep inside you as he could get. His body twitched with each rope he shot into you. Lips kissing your skin.

Eddie slumped his body onto yours unable to remove himself from your warmth. Savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. Your hands rubbed his back, nails scratching at his skin. Hesitantly, Eddie rolled off of you. Pulling himself out. The mixture of juices inside you spilling out. Venom forcing it all back inside you.

You rested against his chest. The fire inside you finally subsiding. Both of your chests heaved with deep breaths. Bodies having been worked.

"You can stay here," you sighed.

"We would love that," Eddie kissed your head.

~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! It feels so nice to return to the character who originally got me writing so much on this blog. I've missed these two so much. My inbox is always open for requests. If you want to be tagged in the future let me know! //

{tags}

@heif ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @denisedixon ~ @crazymuffin1 ~ @gruffle1 ~ @atthediscowithoutpanic ~ @glader13 ~ @frenchkimbo ~ @wuuuuman ~ @vexties ~ @f4ngedgirl ~ @megangovier ~ @globinsmerchant ~

[warnersister]

How the Peaky boys would react to “you wearing a sundress” -> headcannon

(NSFW) but more implied then truly written, but still read at your own risk

Tommy🪖

🪖it was a hot day, and you were rummaging through your clothing chest to try find something suitable to wear to bear the heat outside.

🪖Tommy had headed out early, business to attend to with Alfie Solomons.

🪖he hadn’t meant to wake you, trying to sneak around the bedroom to get dressed and get out of the house: especially after a… long night

🪖but still, you stirred and whined “Tom?” You breathe with a rasped voice “s’alright, back to sleep darling” he instructed but you endured, sitting up and stretching your arms high above your head and Thomas watched as the covers fell to reveal your bare torso and it took all his self control to stop salivating.

🪖you climbed out of bed and threw the slip dress over your head, heading towards your husband who was buttoning his shirt in the mirror

🪖you turned him towards you and swatted his hands away, and he allowed you to finish buttoning his shirt for him, finishing the top button and pulling the collar down to kiss him.

🪖”Solomons is coming by today” Thomas huffed and you looked up at him with narrowed eyes “long meeting?” You ask and he shakes his head “shouldn’t be” you nod “d’you want me to come by later? Bring you some lunch?” You ask and he connects his eyes with yours “y’know y’worry me when you stay in there all day” you continue and he offers a small smile. “I’ll take that as a yes” you say, kissing the corner of his mouth and tapping his chest, ushering him out of the door. “Go on, shoo.”

🪖he smirked and grabbed his cap on the way out, whistling as he went

🪖so there you were, already sweeting with mere silk on your body

🪖you saw a dress with the tags still on, yellow and billowing at the bottom: sundress

🪖you looked it over one before deciding it was the perfect choice for today’s endeavours.

🪖you’d nipped out to the market first, collecting some supplies to make him some soup or whatever you could conjure up.

🪖you even grabbed some sunflowers too; having bought him a vase for his office, thinking it needed some life brought into it, given the volume of lives that were lost in that room.

🪖later in the day you headed to Tommy’s office, assuming that his meeting must be done by now and to feed him.

🪖you’d headed to the Garrison, greeting Harry and having a few wandering eyes following you as you approached the Blinder’s designated room, thinking nothing of it as you turned the door knob.

🪖Tommy couldn’t be mad at your intrusion for the sheer sight of you. His pupils blew out of his head as he looked you over, he’d never seen this dress before. Yet his jaw gritted at the way Alfred fucking Solomons had the same reaction.

🪖”oh I’m so sorry gentleman” you said, pivoting to leave “no no, sweetheart. Alfie was just leaving. Weren’t you?” Tommy asked and Alfie creased his brows but with the eyes his business partner was giving him told him everything he needed to know. “Yeah yeah, just leaving Tom”

🪖Alfie stood, to leave and smiled at you “lovely to see you, poppet” Alfie said, you’d always gotten along with him; you hugged him as he welcomed it, and he grinned at you “you look gorgeous you, yeah? Lovely new dress. Fabulous it is” “fuck off Alfie” “yeah yeah I’m going, bye love”

🪖Tommy looked you over as the door clicked shut with tight lips. “I’m sorry Tom I didn’t think he’d still be here-” “have you had that on all day?” He cuts you off and you raise your brows “the dress?” “Mhm” “oh yeah, found it earlier. Never worn it.” You say, spinning to give him a giddy look at it.

🪖Tommy couldn’t help but smile “c’m ere.” He beckons you over and you approach him “I brought you some lunch-” you begin “nah, got all I need to eat right here” he says and grabs your hips, prompting you to discard your basket on his desk.

🪖he sits back in his seat; opening his legs to pull you to stand between them. He gently takes the fabric between his fingers, then drags his hands so slowly up to your torso, not looking at your face. You fidget anxiously, his hands dragging back down to the hem of the dress.

🪖”dangerous wearing this, love” he says, dipping his hands under the dress to rest on your upper thighs, finally looking at you. You smile. He realises how easily the fabric is lifted, pushing you back to sit on his desk “can’t do this to y’old Tom and expect to get away with it” he says, with a tut, unzipping his trousers and removing his suspenders as he pushes your underwear to the side.

🪖”I’m buying you more o’ these.”

Alfie🧸

🧸Alfie was sat reading the newspaper in his armchair, Cyril asleep beside him when you came into the room.

🧸”so, what do you think?” You asked and Alfie looked up but had to do a double take. A white sundress with frilled straps and tight torso. “Blimey poppet, what’s this then?” He asked, dropping his glasses to the end of his nose to get a better look at you.

🧸”a sundress Alf!” You say, “y’bought it last year, remember?” “Thought I’d remember buying something like this.” He says, standing to his feet, moving to take your hand in his own “give us a spin then darling” he says, turning you as the fabric billowed as you went only for your gorgeous beaming face to return to him.

🧸”now this is fucking fabulous ain’t it darlin’, fucking fabulous. Bloody love it. Suits you nicely” he mumbles as you smile “but y’can’t wear it” he says and your face drops “y’what?” You asks, brows furrowing. “Y’aint givin y’old man heart palpitations and expecting me to let y’out of the house, flower. Not like this” he says sternly, wagging an accusatory finger at you.

🧸”but we’re got to go to the market-” you protest “nah, we ain’t” he says, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as you yelp. He flips the rim of your skirt up so he gets a great view of your ass, smacking it lightly “Alfie!”

🧸”don’t think I won’t shag y’on these stairs, treacle, now let me get up the fucking stairs, yeah?”

🧸then later in the day when you’d finally manage to coax him off of you and out of the house to the market, there was a hand permanently on your waist. And then at some point you bent over to smell some flowers and Alfie couldn’t help but lean his hips into yours. You yelped “Alfie!” You hissed. “C‘mon love I can’t cope.” He grunts, impatiently prompting the rest of the shopping to go by faster, flipping the skirt of the dress up again when he finally got back to the car.

Arthur🍺

🍺so. Fucking. Antsy.

🍺can’t keep his fucking hands off of you.

🍺left early, didn’t he? Ended up waking you up; banging all the doors shut and all that as he clambered out of the house.

🍺you decided that was your wake up call regardless, knowing full well that if he’d have left in a state such as the one he was in last night then it wasn’t good business. Meaning it’d perk him up for you to visit him and calm down his anger during the day, even if it was only a chat to rectify his emotions.

🍺you’d gotten yourself dressed without a second thought, inly to do a double take and head right back into the house when you felt the sweltering temperatures outside the from door.

🍺you’d rummage through your clothing chest, struggling to find anything suitable for such an occasion, used to the drizzly cool downpour of the indefinite English winter.

🍺then you spotted it; the sundress

🍺Arthur had gone mad for it last year, and it was forgotten about at around Christmas time when it was way too cold for attire like that, but now was the perfect opportunity to wind him up again.

🍺and you were in a teasing mood after the way he’d slammed the front door shut and made a crack in the mahogany.

🍺so you’d slipped it on, it was a lovely shade of pink; baby pink to be exact. Arthur loved that colour on you, made him forget all his troubles and appreciate his woman for a while - especially when he couldn’t get his hands off you. So, giving yourself a once over you spritzed a bit of the expensive perfume Thomas had kindly gifted you the Christmas prior, the one you knew Arthur liked the smell of, and headed out the door.

🍺you decided to stop by the bakery on the way to his office, the bakery with the young cashier who had a large crush on you who Arthur absolutely despised, and you knew it’d get him even more rilled up knowing full well that you’d been in that dress, had leant over the counter while the young lad stumbled over his words and explained what was in every one of them, let you sample the one that the lad knew full well was your favourite, and gave you it on the house with a tip on the hat and a kiss on the hand.

🍺yeah this was turning out to be a pretty good day.

🍺so you waltzed through the building, little spring in your step as you greeted all the turning heads who watched you as you walked.

🍺you knocked on his door “fuck off” and you opened it “sorry Arth, thought you’d want some company” you say in the shyest voice you could manage to muster. His demeanour immediately changed when he heard your voice, his posture settled but when he looked at you his mouth ran dry.

🍺”brought you a bun” you say, taking it out of the bag you’d brought and knew full well he looked at the branding on the paper packaging. His jaw went slack. “Fuck me love, y’tryna kill me?” He asked, taking his cap off his head and shooting his head beneath it. “What do you mean, darling?” You asked, feigning innocence, heading to his desk as you placed the treat in front of him. “You know fucking damn well what. That bastard dress is back again” he says, grabbing your waist with calloused hands to bring you closer to him and he looked you over.

🍺”wearing the nice perfume too, ain’t ya love?” He asked meekly and you nodded “warm day and I couldn’t find anything else. Saw how quickly you’d left his morning so I thought I’d bring you something to eat” you say with a small, innocent smile as you stroked his cheek. He swallowed hard, eyes unwillingly shifting from you to the pastry on his desk.

🍺”y’ve been to that fucking bakery, ain’t ya?” He asked, gritting his teeth “well it’s your favourite-” “and that little bastard was serving wasn’t he?” He asked again, eyes narrowing “who? Daniel-” “yes fucking Daniel that little cock rocket who thinks he can get in your knickers that’s who” he seethed.

🍺then it dawned on him. “And he saw you in this fucking thing” he growled, bunching the pink material in his hands as he huffed “m’sorry Arth. Didn’t think” you reply. Liar. “Nah I think you knew. Knew to tease y’old Arthur didn’t you?” He asked, thumb drawing small circles into your waist. You replied with a small smile “I knew it! Y’little minx!” He chuckled, shaking his head.

🍺”well!“You exclaim, taking his hands and prying them from your waist as his face dropped “I’ll leave you be. Enjoy your pasty. Love you.” You say, turning to make your leave and he almost growled.

🍺”where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asked, standing up after you as you walked back through his door, failing to suppress your smirk. He pretty much sprinted after you, grabbing you roughly and throwing you over his shoulder to turn right back around and into his office. “Got all I want to eat right fucking ‘ere. You ain’t leaving this office in this bastard dress” he promises, slamming the office door behind the two of you.

John🥃

🥃bold of you to think you’re even leaving the house with it on.

🥃he’s not like his brothers, he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye unless Tommy was literally at the door screaming for him, and even then he was quick to reassure you before he sprinted out the house.

🥃no he liked to wake up with you, especially now there were too many kids to count running around the house.

🥃he liked to wake you up with little kisses, grab you at the waist and pull you back into bed if you tried to leave, brush his teeth beside you in the bathroom, help get the kids ready, pick your outfit, and let you tie his tie which usually took a good half hour between all the songs he’d sneak in.

🥃gave him a sense of homeliness.

🥃a bit of normality.

🥃today was no different, he’d woke you up with little kisses, rolling you to sit on top of him, legs either side of his hips as he repetitively kissed you as you giggled and tried to rise for a breath.

🥃”mammy I’m hungry!” A voice came from the doorway and you saw your agitated son pawing at his pyjamas as he looked at you desperately. “Fucking kid interrupting. About to fu-” John mumbled quietly before you were placing a hand over his mouth with wide, warning eyes. He smirked at you. “Alright mate, I’ll come, leave your poor mammy alone” John answered, finally managing to pry your hand away. “Thanks daddy” he says, giddily, as John reluctantly placed you back in bed and rolled out, chucking a shirt on and turning back to you. “Don’t move” he says, wagging a jokingly warning finger at you and you laugh “yes sir” you salute and he smirk.

🥃”right c’mon mate.” John says, grabbing your son and slinging him onto a piggy back to go grab him something to munch on.

🥃you practically jumped out of bed to go grab the new sundress that you bought last week, you hadn’t shown John yet and decided that today was the day you were going to wear it, especially now you had the quick couple of minutes of peace alone.

🥃”right, little’uns eating his breakf- fuck me” you spun around to look at your husband and smiled “what d’y think?” You ask, “g’i us a twirl” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. You did as he said and pivoted around, showing how the dress spun with you.

🥃”it’s a sundress” you say “I can see that flower” he replies, walking up to you to have a good feel of the fabric, gliding his hands from your upper back to your waist as he pulls you into him “y’can’t wear tha’.” He says simply and you giggle “why’s tha Johnny?” You ask and he raises his brows “that little name tells me you know goddamn why gorgeous.” He says “y’cannea wear it cause I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off of ya.” He says, quickly turning to slam the door shut before picking you up and dropping you on the bed, climbing on top of you and leaning in to kiss you hungrily.

🥃you move to take the dress of and he shakes his head “now, now whole point of this dress is that it’s easy access now, ain’t it?” He hums “leave it on I’ll work around don’t you worry ‘bout me.” He says quickly with his tongue protruding to lick his dry lips as he looks you over.

🥃he dips his head under the hem of the dress and eats you like a man starved. “Mammy! Daddy we’re ‘ungry!” You hear from beyond the door and John stops his movement to come back up for air and clamp a hand over your mouth to stop the sounds coming out of it. John huffs, frustrated but clears his throat. “Harriet darlin’ can you reach the milk?” He asks after a minute “I can da’.” Her little voice replies “Toby can you reach the cereal?” “Uh-huh” the other retorts. “Great and Charlie? Bowls and spoons?” “Yeah I know where they are daddy!” The little one says “perfect. Harriet want you to get the milk, the big ‘un I’m not having you using up the fancy shit your mam bought from Camden. Y’here me?” He asks “yeah dad” “Toby, grab the cereal and Charlie get the bowls and lot.” He instructs “okay!” The collective voices come out. “Hannah need you to make sure it’s all gone to plan, alright hon?” He asks “sure thing” then you hear the patter of feel heading down the stairs

🥃”and I swear to god if any of you little shits make a mess y’ll all be up for the fuckin’ high jump!” He announces loudly, before quieting down and turning back to you “where were we?”

🥃and then when you’d finally managed to pry him off of you, he begrudgingly let you wear it “don’t forget we’re going to Alice’s garden party.” You say “what?” He asks, noticing how you’ve dressed all the kids appropriately “y’ain’t going looking like that flower” he says “I sure am. Come in you lot! In the car!” You say, ushering him out the door

🥃he managed to sneak you away one or two times at the party.

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie’s just as bad as John

🥊cannot keep his hands off of you

🥊”’m takin’ y’ to Bonnie Gold’s fight.” Your brother said walking into the room “wear summot nice, that dress I bought you” “why?” “Just get dressed” you nodded at Tommy, not opposed to visiting Bonnie Gold any day.

🥊”is his sister coming?” Bonnie asked his dad hopefully and the man smirked “why?” “J’st wonderin’.” “Yeah well keep y’eyes on the prize” Aberama told him “she is the fuckin’ prize” “try keep y’hands off of ‘er until the fights over, yeah?” He asked and him and Bonnie just shared a knowing smirk.

🥊you put on the sundress Tommy had bought you the other week, deciding it was a nice enough day to have a breeze against your skin, plus you had a pair of lovely shoes to match.

🥊so you rocked up downstairs, dress on and ready to go and Tommy just gave you a once over “poor lads gonna have a fuckin’ heart attack” John said, laughing “shut up John” you reply, as he opened the door to the car for you, offering his hand to help you up. “You look nice” Arthur commented with a raised brow “damn fucker better win this fight”

��”Bonnie” Thomas nodded as he entered the building, followed by his brothers, you at the back with John who’d strung an arm over your shoulder. “Mr Shelby” he nodded at him, but was clearly distracted. “Don’t you worry, Bonnie. She’s right ‘ere.” Tommy says, moving out the way for John and you to come into his view. “Hiya, Bon.” You smile “hiya flower” he manages to muster.

🥊yet, his breath had caught in his throat at the sheer sight of you. Your gorgeous face, hair done up nicely, and a fucking milkmaid dress. Some lovely sundress that other men didn’t deserve to see. Bonnie’s jaw clenched.

🥊”right, we’ll leave the two of you for a minute. Aberama, let’s chat” Thomas said, leading the others away “if he tries anything come and fuckin’ find me.” John said, looking Bonnie over once with narrowed eyes before strutting off after the others.

🥊Bonnie smirked looking at you “y’look lovely” he said quietly, approaching you “not too bad y’self Bon” you giggle as his hands wrap around you, leaning down to kiss you gently. “This fuckin’ dress. Y’do it on purpose?” He asks and you crease your brows “do what?” You hum and he sighs “I guess you’re not beautiful on purpose are you darlin’?” He grins, grabbing your hand to drag you into his changing room and lock the door behind you.

🥊he picks you up and you squeal with a laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds you against the door. He slips his hands under the hem of the skirt and holds your thighs gently.

🥊”this fucking dress” he says, chuffed that he managed to slip his hands all the way up to settle on your waist and you just smiled at him. You could feel him toying with the waistband of your panties and you laugh “Bon we’ve only got ten minutes!” You giggle and he sighs “guess we’ve got to be quick then, ay sugar?” He asks, undoing his trousers and just merely pushing your panties aside.

🥊you lean your head into the curve of his neck, muffling the sounds erupting from your mouth and muffling them with his bear skin and he slid in and out of you. “God ‘m so fuckin’ obsessed with you.” He groaned “y’know what this makes me think of?” He asks and you shake your head in question against him. “Makes me think of a mammy. What a mammy should wear when she’s pregnant ‘nd can’t get into nothin’ else.” He mumbles. “This wha’ya were tryna do t’me?” He asks “tryna get me to make y’a mammy? Cause it’s working darlin’. So well.” You whine at his remark.

🥊and when you both finish you try to pull up from his shoulder but he holds you firmly in place “Nuh uh. You dress like a mammy y’become one” he says and you can’t help but smile at his statement. Eventually, he unwraps you from his waist and lets you down onto shaky legs. A knock comes at the door “five minutes, son. Get your hands wrapped” you hear Aberama say to him followed by leaving footsteps. You smile up at him “c’mon I’ll wrap your hands”

🥊you pull him to where the wrap is, sitting him down on the bench and standing between his legs as you work on protecting his hands.

🥊He was being extremely difficult

🥊trying to wrap a man’s hands when all he wants to do is have them under your dress is an extremely difficult task as he kept groping at your skin rather than letting you work. “D’ya want your hands wrapping or not?” You ask with a huff and he smirks “would rather be doing somethin’ else.” He shrugs, but lets you finish. And when you do he pulls you into a tight hug, leaning against the fabric where your breasts were constricted.

🥊”Bonnie, c’mon lad it’s time” you heard your brother say from beyond the door, knocking on it thrice (sausage roll video lol)

🥊Bonnie groaned from under your dress (you didn’t know when he’d managed to snake his way back under there) but you grabbed his hand and yanked him from his seated position to standing; pulling him towards the door and unlocking it to take him to the ring.

🥊Bonnie pulled the hand that was dragging him, sending you flying into his chest with a force that nearly winded you as he gave you one last kiss. “Bonnie! Go!” You giggled, pushing him away and towards the ring, taking a stand beside your brothers as the match began.

🥊The rounds went by painfully slow for Bonnie; regardless of the fact that he was winning - but in reality it was only a good few minutes of pure fighting.

🥊then when the match was finished, he waltzed over to the Shelby family like he owned the place and offered a blood-filled grin as it dripped down his chin.

🥊”well done Bonnie lad.” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette. “Cheers Tommy.” He replied, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “Didn’t y’get some money f’this match?” John asked, lighting his own. “Nah he’s got his own trophy right over there” Tommy replied, nodding at you as they all turned to see you chatting with Bonnie’s father.

🥊”just do us a favour” Thomas told him and Bonnie immediately nodded “marry her.” “Don’t have to tell me twice, mr Shelby.” Bonnie told him with a chuckle, heading to grab you to resume your activities.

Isaiah♟️

♟️haha.

♟️again, bold of you to assume that you’re getting fucking anywhere with that thing on.

♟️feel like it’d be a black sundress, one with frills on the sleeves.

♟️you’d gone for a walk with Finn, Tommy having told you both to fuck off for a while while they dealt with some deeper business; so a stroll around seemed to be the choice at hand.

♟️eventually though, Finn had gotten distracted by a sign you’d read that said ‘pretty women here shilling for a good time’ and left you to fend for yourself, opting not to follow your twin into the whore house, yet you weren’t in your own company for long, feeling a cap placed on your head and an arm around your shoulders.

♟️“Hey pretty, what’re you doing all alone?” Isaiah asked, as he feel into step with you, but came to a sudden halt almost lurching you back. “And who let you wear that?” His eyebrows raised as he looked you over. “Why what’s wrong with it?” You asked “nothin’ nothin’. J’st don’t understand why it’s not on my bedroom floor” you smacked his chest and giggled “Isaiah!”

♟️”y’shouldnt have been let out wearing this, love” he said, backing you against the wall of one of the nearby buildings. “Well I was with Finn” you reason “hmm? And where is Finn now?” He asks, taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing you to look at him.

♟️”in some whore house” you mumble in reply. He scoffs “some brother”. Then he starts again “why don’t we turn my house into a whore house and get that dress off you and into my room?” He suggests and you roll your eyes “such a way with words”

♟️”y’look fuckin’ insatiable” he says, leaning down to kiss that sensitive spot on the crevasse of your neck. “Dunno how I manage to keep my hand off you most of the time, doll” he shrugs “and in this? Fuck y’not gonna be walking anytime soon”

♟️you laugh at him “you wish peaky junior, now I was enjoying a lovely walk before you came along.” You hum, pushing him back by the chest and he scoffs “I’m a Shelby I can fend for myself” you shrug “not while I make you a Jesus.” He retorts, smirking like he knew he’d won. “Whatever, Isaiah” you say, calmly walking away

♟️he laughs loudly, running after you “c’mon Mrs Jesus we’ve business to attend to!” He announces, swiftly placing a hand onto your chest and pressing you back against the wall, lifting you up and placing hungry hands under the hem of your dress “Isaiah!” You scold, “not here!” He rolls his eyes “fine”

♟️and he places and arm under your knees and one to support your head as he carries you bridal-style back to his house. You clutch at his suit jacket and squeal at his action, holding on for dear life until you got to his home.

♟️did not wait until you got to the bedroom

♟️defo had his way with you against the door once it’d been firmly slammed shut and locked

♟️and on the sofa

♟️and the kitchen table

♟️and then bedroom

♟️(you never took the dress off)

♟️and eventually when you’d decided Tommy was probably done with his important business you managed to coax a begrudging Isaiah to the Garrison with you, who’d initially planned to keep you up all night with him but instead you were heading to a pub instead of his bed; which you’d end up in later anyways

♟️”oh she’s alive!” Arthur said sarcastically as you join them, noticing your presence and subsequently you noticed Finn’s. “How long did you last? Two minutes?” You asked and he scoffed “fuck off” “and of course I’m alive, I’m fine. It was Finn who left me alone!” You say, blame bombing your twin who looked at you with evil eyes.

♟️then Isaiah popped his head round “plus I wasn’t alone I was with Isaiah” you say matter-of-factly and Finn grits his jaw “what’ve I said about staying away from my fucking sister you fucking scrubber” Finn growls, landing a pent-up punch to Isaiah’s jaw who stumbled back slightly. “Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout fucking her did ya?” He retorted and then he was running for the hills with three brothers sprinting after him.

♟️”men.” Polly said with a roll of her eyes

Michael🎱

🎱he wouldn’t be here nor there

🎱loved how it looks on you

🎱but hates the fact that other men see you wearing it.

🎱he makes heart eyes when he sees you in it, believing it to be the typical dress of a wife and mother; so it pretty much feeds into his delusions.

🎱the only time it saw the light of day in public would’ve definitely been when he’d been courting you. When he’d been invited to some garden party of a rich aristocracy down southwards.

🎱what Tommy failed to mention was that the Capitalist had a daughter a few months younger than Michael, of whom was extremely well spoken, and ridiculously pretty.

🎱he’d obviously weaselled his way over to you and the rest was history.

🎱and of course, history tends to repeat itself.

🎱again, you were heading to a garden party: Shelby arranged this time around, to show your initial family that the marriage between yourself and Michael was going well and therefore Tommy’s expansion to a more wealthier estate was worth the investment.

🎱”I’ll meet you there darling, business to take care of.” Michael had told you that morning while adjusting his collar, allowing you to help him straighten the tie you had wrapped around his neck. “Okay” you hummed, he always loved how you’d never pried.

🎱in reality he was off to see a man about a dog, in other terms; kill a man. Kill a man who’d been eyeing you up like a fucking slice of meat the evening prior. Eyeing you like he wanted to eat you like a man starved, as if your husband didn’t have a firm arm wrapped around your waist and oversized number of carats around your finger.

🎱even had the nerve to try talk to you, had groped at your ass and Michael covered your eyes with one hand while he clocked the bloke around the jaw with the other.

🎱never wanted a woman to see him fight, especially his woman.

🎱so he went about killing the man the next day; well he’s probably dead by now. He took his cap calmly to the man, beneath that bridge by the canal, castrated then blinded the man and left him struggling on the ground, having a couple of lesser known Peaky men surveying the area for the rest of the day to make sure no aid was to come to him, and when his struggling stopped they were to sort his body out.

🎱you made your way to the garden party independently, having worn a darling sundress; white and pristine and freshly pressed, accompanied by a sun hat and some subtle shoes; conservative enough for Michael not to complain that you looked like a whore, but skin-showing enough not to overheat in this sweltering weather.

🎱you were there before Michael, embraced by John and given a kiss on the temple by an already tipsy Arthur who was in that sort of mood where a gent gets rather happy when squidgy, it was a fine line with Arthur.. happy to angered

🎱but you entertained him, saying your hellos and greeting the rest of the family you’d married into, patiently waiting for Michael’s attendance.

🎱he was there soon thereafter.

🎱and he was fucking seething.

🎱he took one look at you as his mouth ran dry, grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the garden getting countless opposing arguments from the likes of Ada and John questioning what he was doing

🎱but nothing could soften the red he saw.

🎱how dare you wear that dress?

🎱practically threw you into the car, you’d never seen him this upset, let alone have it take it out on you; his loving, doting housewife of whom he trophied for every mistake he made, initially he thought you were his punishment from god.. sent an angel for a devil to take care of. But he’d gotten the hang of switching into a loving husband the minute he returned home

🎱but tonight was different

🎱”Michael, darlin-” “how dare you?” He seethed and you silenced yourself “pardon?” “How many fucking times have I told you you’re not wearing this fucking dress in public, hmm? And you wear it around my fucking horny cousin?” He growls and you don’t know how to reply “he looks at you like you’re a fucking piece of meet, sweets.” He tells you, finally looking at you

🎱”undressing you with his eyes. Watched him myself.” “John has a wife-” “John hires prostitutes. Y’think he’d be a better husband?” He asks, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel harder “no-” “no. Cause I’ve never hired a fuckin’ prostitute since we’ve been together, and I work hard for you, y’know. Got no where to take my anger out cause I love you so much.” He says and despite the harshness of his words your heart swells.

🎱”killed a man for you and I show up to you actin’ like a fuckin’ whore?” Your mouth opened agape and he chuckled darkly “think I didn’t kill that bloke? Think I’d leave him safe? Nah, not with my missus I wouldn’t” he confirms, placing a hand on your leg as he speeds back home.

🎱he stops the car and doesn’t move for a minute.

🎱”listen to me very carefully, flower. I’m going to change my bloody shirt, and you’re gonna go upstairs, lay on the bed and wait for me. Yeah?” He asks “yeah o’course Michael.” You say as you get out the car

🎱”and leave that fuckin’ dress on!” You hear called behind you.

Finn🎞️

🎞️Finn is just horny 25/8 icl.

🎞️doesn’t know what does it for him about that dress, but it does something.

🎞️it was a hot day, and the family was in some beer garden, Arthur already off his head drunk and the brothers just enjoying one another’s company after successfully ridding the threat of a rival family, the head now dead and the rest cowering to surrender.

🎞️Tommy told Finn to bring his lady friend, the one who worked at the bookshop along, decided it was time to meet the family, and so he did.

🎞️waltzed into your little hole in the wall, grinning as you peered your head around to see the customer who’d caused the door’s bell to chime, and you broke out into a mighty smile just as he did, him opening his arms for you to rush over and into a bone crushing hug.

🎞️even shared a sweet kiss as he said a gentle “hello pretty”

🎞️he noticed the dress you were wearing was new, initially not noticing it as he was too caught up in admiring you. “What’s this? Is it new?�� He asked, taking your hand to spin you around. “It is” you grin, allowing the white flowing material to spin as he made you “it’s lovely” he says, noticing something about it but he didn’t know quite what.

🎞️”why are you here?” You hum with narrowed, suspicious eyes as you leant your chin against his dress “aren’t I allowed to say hello to my favourite girl?” He asks with a smirk “yes but I can tell there’s something. A look in your eyes.” You say and he sighs, defeated “party at the Garrison” he says “when?” You ask “right now” he says and you laugh “Finn I can’t just shut shop at 12 oclock on Thursday!” You say, as he reaches into his pocket, throwing ten whole pounds onto the counter “Finn! Where did you get that much money?” You gasp “don’t worry bout it. Enough for you to close?” He asks and you scoff “I can’t accept ten whole pounds, Finn” you tell him “sure you can cause I’m not having it back” he shrugs, pulling your hand to coax you out the door “okay fine!” You surrender as you relent, allowing Finn to pull you out the door and in turn, you lock your door behind you.

🎞️then when you showed to the party, you were greeted by tipsy cheers and hellos as Finn introduced you to his family, Polly and Ada immediately dragging you away to have a separate conversation as they question you about everything to which you giddily go along with.

🎞️John came to stand with Finn, where he was stood still; drink in hand as he watched you interact with his family. “What’s up, Finn?” He asked, nudging him with his elbow and Finn finally broke out of his trace to smile at his brother. “Nothin’.” He shrugged. “Can’t be about your missus, y’head over heels for her.” John said, and Finn immediately raised his brows in panic “no! no! Nothin’ like tha.” Finn said, shaking his head. “Then what is it?” John asked, looking at you, trying to figure his younger sibling out.

🎞️”dunno. It’s summot about that dress” Finn said, eyes raking over you as he tried to figure out what it was and his brother chuckles “easy access, mate.” John said and Finn creased his brows “y’what?” “Sundresses mate, fuckin’ kill me. Easy access innit? Don’t have to even take the dress off” John told him matter-of-factly, necking the rest of his beer in one. Finn’s eyes darkened and John couldn’t hold in his laugh at the realisation that Finn had settled that that was what it was.

🎞️John claps him on the back “if y’wanna sneak off I’ll cover” he said, but by the end of the sentence Finn had already started after you “cheers, mate!” He said to John “sorry, stealing her” he said to Polly and Ada against their judgement, dragging you away from the conversation and into the Peaky office inside the Garrison.

🎞️you giggle at his actions as he locked the dork “what y’doin sill?” You ask “party’s outside!” You say, as he picks you up and holds you against the door, dropping his hands for them to head under the hem of your skirt “right, ‘nd I’ve just figured out that this dress is driving me fuckin’ crazy” he says “you’re fuckin’ insatiable” he says “d’you even know what that means?” You ask and he shrugs “find me a dictionary later or summot.” He says

🎞️”what’s up with the dress” you ask, as he undoes his trousers “easy access innit?”

Aberama🌞

🌞Aberama is a cultured bloke

🌞by that I mean he’s had many a trips around the sun, and in that time good women are few and far between in his opinion

🌞so regardless of you being substantially his younger, he was positive that you were the woman for him and therefore he had to have you.

🌞recently you’d moved into his vardo with him, having left the urban life behind.

🌞he’d woken up one morning to the sun blaring at him through the unclad opening of the vardo, stretching his arms above his head in a mighty yawn, almost certain it was almost midday by this point; especially after the long trek they’d had to get to this sight the night prior.

🌞he reached his arm over, but the spot in the bed was cold and empty, a lone spot where you should’ve been laid. He creased his brows, shooting up in bed to a sitting potion, realising that you were no longer in the vardo at all.

🌞he groaned. Damn you and your early rising tendencies.

🌞he rubbed his eyes and pulled on a pair of undershorts, smirking at the remembrance of the night prior once you’d arrived. He popped his head out of the doorway, looking left and right but curiously not being able to find any trace of you.

🌞he climbed down the steps and placed his hands on his hips, walking around the side of the wooden structure towards the lake that trickled slowly downstream. And that’s where he found you:

🌞his gorgeous bride.

🌞he’d always told you that he never expected you to conform to the traditional gypsy wife role, never needed you to bear him any more children or do the cooking or cleaning. Hell, you could lay around all day doing nothing and he’d look at you with the same adoration he always does. He didn’t even expect you to want to live in a vardo, yet you’d shown up with a bag and a smile when offered.

🌞 yet you refused, you demanded to help. Demanded to conform. You would cook the rabbit he’d kill (given you’d been a bit sick at the initial sight of it). And you’d kill his clothes, paying no mind to any blood shed on it.

🌞you were knelt against the river bank, ringing some clothes out you just washed then placing them into a small wicker basket, in a dress he didn’t quite recognise.

🌞”what y’doin up, sweetheart? Thought I told y’to relax today” he started, beginning towards you. Your head spun and those wide, innocent doe eyes gleamed back at him “had a big journey last night. No good f’little girls to be working the day after” he said, matter of factly with a stern look.

🌞”just wanted to get these clothes washed” you mumble, placing the final garment in the basket. “And what’s this you’ve got on, hmm?” He asked, as you look at your clothes “oh it’s a dress” “Mm I can see that, darlin. Just never seen it before” he tells you and you stand to give him a little spin. “My sister bought it for my birthday” you said and he grunts, gently grabbing your hips to pull you into him and sway you back and forth along with the breeze, dancing to nature’s music.

🌞”well y’know what these dresses are?” He hums and you shake your head, placing both hands on his chest. “These dresses are the kind that mammys wear. The kind you’d wear when they’re all pregnant and swelled up with little babes.” He says, accusingly. “Kind that little wives wear that are asking for a hiding” he warns

🌞”didn’t mean nothing by it, abe. Just thought it was nice” you admit and he smiles “I know you did, princess. Just an innocent little flower y’are.” He shakes his head.

🌞”but y’ve seen the other mammys around the camp haven’t you? Seen how they’ve dressed. Think you know what you were doin’ to your old man” he teases and you shake your head “m too old to be a da’ y’know. Way too bleeding old. Punishing me ain’t ya? Just asking for a little’un” he tuts and you giggle as he picks you up bridal style and carries you back to the bed where he’d began

🌞”Aberama! The clothes!-” “Can fuckin’ wait” he grunts “got a little’un to put in ya first” he says, dropping you onto the bed and lazily flipping up your skirt to do what he did best.

🌞make your skin fucking crawl.

[nerdy-novelist017]

Paige's Masterlist For The Bikeriders

Requests Are Open For Benny x Bunny Or If You Just Wanna Chat, I'd Love To Hear From You :)

Benny x Bunny 🐰

aka: shy!reader who has Benny Cross positively wrapped around your finger from the very first time you stood before him with a bowl of homemade chocolate chip cookies.

* means it has NSFW content!

Part 1 Little Bunny

Part 2 The Ride

Part 3 A Date

Part 4 Rooftop Conversations

Part 5 Ponytails and Promises

Part 6 Apologies

Part 7 Perfect

Part 8 Soaked

One Shots*

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet*

Life Raft*

Broken Glass

Sweet Talking*

Bruised Ego

Love, Lids, & Lessons

Baby Fever

T-Shirts

Denim*

Tease*

More Than Rest

(I sadly can’t add anymore of you wonderful readers to my tag list but you can turn on post notifications for updates about Benny and Bunny!)

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Tom's Possession

🕷Pairing(s)🕷→ Possessive Tom Holland x Male reader  ⚠CW⚠→ gay, dom top Tom Holland, bottom male reader, humiliation kink, reader has a small dick, size kink (Tom is 5’11 or taller, just be smaller than that), gagging, jealous, jealous Tom, possessive, possessive behavior, Tom is possessive, public handjob, handjob, semi-public sex, Tom fucks you in the bar’s bathroom, voyeurism, getting caught, cum eating, and you purposely make Tom jealous cause why not. 🕷Rating🕷→ Explicit 🕷Requested🕷→ Yes

🕷Word Count🕷→ 1.3k

🕷Summary🕷→ A random guy was flirting with you at the pub. Knowing how Tom would react, you decided to flirt with the man because you wanted him to get upset. Tom watched from afar, seething before he dragged you by the arm into the bathroom. He needed to remind you who you belong to. 

Read before continuing: IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 18 OR ANY OF THE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! 

DISCLAIMER: This does NOT represent what Tom is like in real life! This is just fanfiction and a request given to me. Don’t be too delusional. 

 Tom was seething at the mouth, tapping his feet aggressively while clenching his fist till they were white. His grip on the bottle of alcohol tightened as he watched from afar. You were flirting with another man who wasn’t even good-looking. Tom knew you were messing with him, only flirting with the man to get a rise out of him, and it was working. 

You were feeling a little bratty and decided to tease Tom. Many people saw the actor as Spider-Man, a light-hearted man and someone kind to others. Gay men mainly saw Tom as being a bottom and never a top, but you know the truth. He was kind and loving, but when it comes to sex, he was dominant. He was also possessive and somewhat jealous. He would never act on his primal instinct, but he would fuck and spear you on his cock, ramming you into the bed as he taught a lesson. His thick British accent would echo in your ears as he filled you with his cum. 

You could feel Tom burning holes into your and the other man’s head. You weren’t interested in anything the other man was saying, leading him on, you weren’t going to do something with him. Your body was only for Tom to fuck and claim. As you waited for the reddish-brown haired man to come, you laughed and flirted. The breaking point was when the man dared to place his hand on your thigh. 

Tom got up from his seat and stormed his way to you. He pulled his baseball cap down to make sure nobody recognized him. He didn’t care that he pushed some people out of his way, the man only had his eyes on you. “You’re coming with me,” Tom says hushedly as he grabs your arm and drags you to the farthest bathroom. Your small dick woke up and throbbed from Tom being assertive.

Everything was a blur until your smaller body was perched on the sink with Tom’s larger body between your legs. His hand fumbled with your pants before he yanked them off. Tom grins as he sees your small cock throbbing. “Pathetic excuse of a cock. Can you even see it?” Tom teases as he pulls his pants, showing you his much larger cock, showing it off and doing a side-by-side comparison. 

Yours pales in comparison to his. From length to the thickness, Tom outranks you. It was a good kind of embarrassment that serves to make your cock harder. Tom began using two fingers to slowly stroke your cock with a firm grasp while stroking his. Your moans echoed off the bathroom walls as you bucked your hips into Tom’s hold. 

Tom leans forward, his hot breath ghosting over your skin as he spoke in a husky British accent. “Dirty fucking whore. Flirting and flaunting yourself for other men. You like it when I stroke your little cock like this? Being humiliated like the little slut you are.” Tom growls, his words sending shivers down your spine. You whimpered softly as Tom bites your ear, moving down as he marks your skin with his teeth. 

The reddish-brown haired man pulled back, his eyes glinted with arousal and want. Suddenly, your mouth was forced open before two of Tom’s thick fingers filled your mouth. “Suck them,” Tom commanded as he slowed down. You whined with your dazed look, making eye contact with Tom as you sucked his fingers. Loud slurping and gagging became the predominant sounds in the room. Your tongue lathering the thick fingers with saliva as you sucked on them as if they were Tom’s cock. Tom smirks as he sees tears rolling down your pretty face as he thrusts them into your mouth.  

After determining his fingers were coated enough, he pulls them out, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his fingers. There was a moment of quiet before you felt Tom’s fingers circling your hole before pushing them inside. Tom groans as he feels your gummy walls clenching around his fingers, sucking his digits deeper. Tom begins fucking you with his fingers while stroking your small cock. The stimulation was becoming overwhelming as you felt your climax approaching. 

Then, the sound of the squeaking bathroom door echoed before the loud boom of the door closing. Your body froze but Tom didn’t seem dissuaded. He continues his actions as if you both weren’t going to get caught. Heavy footsteps got closer as the man was about to turn the corner to see you being fingered and stroked. 

You didn’t know if you were lucky or extremely unlucky. The man who walked into the bathroom was the same man you had been flirting with earlier. Your face was as red as a tomato from the embarrassment of being caught, but at the same time, you were more aroused than ever. Tom wasn’t fazed the slightest but he did notice the feeling of your ass clenching around his fingers with a vice grip. 

“Should’ve known you’re an exhibitist slut. You like being caught by another man getting fingered by someone else? Maybe I should invite him over, give him a view of your slutty body and small dick.” Tom groans as the adrenaline is pumping through his veins. He thrusts his fingers faster while slapping your dick. Your senses were becoming overwhelmed, your moans became more breathy as your climax was near. Your vision was cloudy, but in the corner of your eye you can see the man stroking to the sight before him. 

 Everything was blurry with only glimpses. The other man approached you and Tom, and Tom made it clear to the other man that he wasn’t allowed to touch you. Your moans got louder as your vision went completely white. Your back arching as you thrusted into Tom’s hand, ropes of cum spurted out of your red cockhead. The sound of wet splashing rang out as your cum hit the bathroom floor. 

“Such a good whore,” Tom said as he removed his hands before shoving his cum coated fingers into your mouth. Your moans were muffled as you tasted and ate your cum. The other man came quickly from the display, his cum landing on the floor. 

“Not so fast, I still have this problem.” The reddish-brown haired man said as he gestures towards his hard cock. He teasingly strokes it, making eye contact as if telepathically telling you to get on your knees. Tom made the other man leave, causing the man to grumble before leaving. The bathroom door opened with a loud squeak before the bang of it closing echoed. 

It was gonna be a long night. 

THE END

A/n: hello, my strawberries! I hope y'all enjoy this fic! TAGLIST: @hiddens-eden @spnfanboy777 @buckyshusband0 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost @furiousflowercreation @ghostking4m @sluttyhusband @wolf-knights @your-cow-boy @mack-thedork @geminiflanagan69 @starboye @boypied Very special thanks to my proofreader; @sagethegaywitch Join my taglist!

[639-hear-me-out-bby]

playlist: back to being friends by sombr guilty as sin? by taylor swift (rachel bochner ver.) the hardest part by olivia dean

the living room couch cradled me as i sat on his lap, straddling him. his eyes followed the path of his hands as they trailed along my plush sides, then paused to give my thighs a gentle squeeze. he looked up at me, eyes glossed and enthralled.

“still so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmured.

i closed my eyes as he leaned in, closing the space between us. i braced for the feel of his lips—but instead, there was only a breath of air between us, his exhale brushing softly against mine. i opened my eyes to find him gazing at me like i’d hung the stars in the sky.

his hand rose to my neck, fingers gentle as they traced along my jaw. his other hand found mine, guiding it to his chest.

"feel this heartbeat? that’s what you do to me—every beat, every thud, it’s all you," he said slowly, his eyes locking onto mine.

“don’t do this. w-we can’t,” i pleaded, eyes glossing over as i shut them. i leaned my forehead against his with a shaky sigh.

"then we stop." his voice was barely above a whisper, but it wrapped around me like a promise. his hands loosened their grip, falling still on my sides, though his forehead stayed pressed to mine. the silence between us pulsed, thick with everything unsaid.

“i just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, softer this time, like the words themselves might shatter us. "but i don’t know if i can keep pretending that i don’t want you… that i haven’t always wanted you."

my fingers clenched lightly at his shirt, still resting against his chest. i could feel the thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm—steady, strong, wanting.

“you think i’m scared of getting hurt?” i whispered, a shaky laugh escaping me. “i’ve been hurt by you before… but that doesn’t stop me from wanting you, does it? you’ve always been my weakness.”

the words hung in the air, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. the faint patter of rain against the window added to the stillness, its rhythmic tap an almost haunting reminder of how long we’d waited. i pulled away, searching his eyes for something—maybe the same fear, the same longing. then he said, "then let me show you how sorry i am,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with a need that mirrored my own.

without another word, i crashed my lips against his, hungry and breathless. his hand tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. his other hand gripped my waist, guiding my hips against his with a desperate kind of need. shaky moans and low grunts slipped from his lips, each sound a reminder of how much we’d both been holding back.

the rain outside continued its steady pitter patter, but inside, the world had fallen away, leaving only us—caught in the heat of a moment that would have no easy end.

a/n: prompts from @urfriendlywriter !! hoping this lil piece would break my stump. ciao!

[inknopewetrust]

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝—𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 [𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐰𝐜: 3.5k]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤.

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

The band had long ceased playing.

As the strings of confetti laid scattered on the floor and the lingering drips of spilled champagne stained the linens, the new year had rung in with a start. London was electric; buzzing in the underground of the darkest shadows—there was nothing more thrilling.

For a deal had been struck as smiles beamed.

And Alfie Solomons had never felt so alive when the guests dispersed and he sat at a vacant table in the golden light. A cigar burning in his hand, the man leaned back on his chair in victory.

The tendrils of smoke swirled in the air; dancing around his face and into the room. It carved him as a Prometheus of men—Camden’s king that gave and protected those who needed it most.

He intrigued you, Alfie Solomons.

A ruggedly handsome man with the mouth of a foul sailor. He had eyed every person in the room before they could clock him but he was never difficult to miss, not after how much Tommy had talked him up.

It would be easy, he said, charming the socks of Alfie to warm a deal between the two sleuths.

Easy was an understated word when the night had worn thin and all you had done from your table of rich ladies and their scrawny men was stare at him. He’d caught your eye one too many times as you tried to gain his attention throughout the night—but he never made his way to you.

You knew there was no doubting he knew you worked with Tommy, that you were being used in a way to sweeten prospects with batting eyelashes and a dress that dipped a little too low in the front. Alfie had seen that before. The desperate nature of a con too important to lose.

It was why when the guests had left the building and the music had stopped he remained. You’d left to powder your nose, he’d heard your excuse to a woman at your table who happened to be the wife of an employee. He sent his snakes far too. Tommy wasn’t the only one who played for keeps.

When you re-entered the space, Alfie sat at the table with the smoke billowing around him in puffs. His cane slanted against the table while his legs spread wide, thick thighs resting themselves on the chair in welcome.

He teased absentmindedly. He was erotic when he tried not to be, more so as you looked upon him from your perch in the hall.

You thanked Tommy endlessly for sending you. This line of business wasn’t hard work when the goal was a specimen like Alfie was. You stood in the doorway with confidence faltering under the surface and leaned against the wall as seductively as you could imagine.

Yet Alfie said nothing.

He continued to smoke at his cigar with the knowledge of you standing there. You felt your heartbeat pick up.

You shifted on your feet, crossing them together and pulling your hands behind your back. It popped your hip out to the side and for a brief moment, you swore Alfie’s chest lifted in a scoff but he sat too far from you. You truly couldn’t tell.

He smoked for another eternity, a minute perhaps before inhaling dramatically and blowing it out again.

“And to what,” his messy drawl was thick, “do I owe the pleasure of your company, Miss—“

“I think you know why I’m here,” you answered in kind. He shrugged his shoulder casually.

“Perhaps. But Tommy ain’t exactly a friend,” his eyes narrowed a bit. “If you know what I mean?”

“He’s not asking to be your friend, Mr. Solomons. He wanted to ensure the deal was final.”

Alfie stuck the cigar between his lips. “I see he won’t be doin’ that ‘emself now?”

“No,” you smiled abashedly. It was cute, he thought, how you played so innocently at this larger game. “He knew your interests lie elsewhere.”

The smoke blew once more. He put out the cigar on a glass tray on the table before beckoning you with two fingers.

You might as well have floated against the wooden floors of the room as you approached. Hips swaying, shoes echoing in the room. You traversed the tinsel and confetti and spilled champagne to meet his table and rest in front of him. Alfie was shameless in the way he let his eyes wander. Slow and unforgiving, he could see everything if he wanted to and this was a kind of gift from Tommy—you.

You were close to the operations of the Shelby’s. He had heard about this woman, as beautiful as you, being as ruthless in Birmingham as the brothers. He knew your name, your family, your history even if he played it off as not. A childhood friend, Alfie supposed, brought on to pull strings in ways only women knew how.

He imagined you like Polly—cunning with a tongue and if you let the slit in your dress draw apart, maybe with other bits of you as well.

“The word from Thomas?” Alfie asked gruffly. You set your small bag down on the table beside you and rested a hand on your waist.

“Three boats from Camden Yard every morning for a month,” you reminded him. The details of the deal were boring, listed off like a grocery list of things to do or get and the most relief you felt that entire evening is when you finally stopped talking.

“How does he plan to have the payment delivered?”

“Through me.”

Alfie hummed. He looked around the room, mind already aware of the deal being sealed and delivered to Tommy by one of his own men in that very moment. He’d sent one of his finest to Birmingham on the off chance the one Tommy had sent was less than capable.

Alfie could admit he was wrong in such an assumption.

“You know,” Alfie shifted in his seat to widen his legs. The expanse of his stance, the seat directed towards you had your eyes trailing his torso, falling square to his crotch and back up to him. His arms rested at his thighs. Hands flat and rough. “This is our new beginning, here in Camden.”

“Shana Tovah, Mr. Solomons.”

“Did he ask you to study? He knew it was a holiday. The Shelby’s aren’t Jews.”

“I think you underestimate our worldly knowledge, Mr.—“

“Alfie,” he corrected.

“—Alfie,” you repeated. “Birmingham isn’t a shithole all the time. We are cultured people.”

Alfie smiled slightly, turning his head away to gaze at the entry way. “Eh,” he grunted. “It’s all shit if you really think ‘bout it.”

You looked down at him as he sat and he peered back at you. His eyes shadowed by his hat in the shimmer of the light.

“Why you still ‘ere?” He tested. “I can’t imagine you sneakin’ around for some challah when the cooks have gone on home.”

You adjusted your stance on your leg causing your dress to ripple. His eyes flickered in the dark.

“Tommy send you to seduce me, treacle?”

Treacle. You’d never heard someone use that word before. You ran your tongue over your lip as it jutted out to clear the dryness that manifested.

You weren’t nervous, per se. But Alfie was a strong, loud man who was more than capable of sending a message to his friends, or enemies, without remorse.

It enticed you—He enticed you greatly. The danger, the selfless anger that rested under his thick skin.

“No,” you answered honestly. “I fear I may be doing that myself.”

“There ain’t anyone here any more.” Alfie only looked at you. His eyes underneath the shadows swallowed you whole. They drew you in and spit you back out.

“Oh?” You feigned obliviousness. You knew everyone had left as well.

Alfie rubbed his hands over his thighs in warmth. His fingers danced along the tops of them.

“Step closer,” he ordered.

Without hesitation, you stepped closer and closer until you stood between his open legs and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You could smell the cigar, his scent strong and burly.

“I’m sure you’ve heard what kind of man I am.”

“No more horrible than the rest.”

“What would Thomas say, eh?” He leaned his head backwards to look up at you. His fingertips twitched against his pants in want. “That his little friend is so willing.”

“I didn’t say I was willing.”

Alfie’s smile barely ghosted his face. Amused, he flicked down to your breasts and back up to your face.

“Your body says otherwise, love.”

He could see your nipples pert against he fabric of your dress. Your chest rose and fell erratically.

“Tommy sent me to ensure the deal was final, that is all, Alfie. I do not need to entertain you to see it through.”

“But you chose this beautiful dress,” he lifted a hand dramatically. It grazed the side of your body to feel the silken fabric that laid over the parts he wished to see further. “And these women,” he motioned to the empty room, “don’t dress like you.”

“Well they follow a different code than I.”

“And what else does that code allow?”

Alfie had yet to drop his hand. It played at the fabric that hung at your hip. He pinched it between his fingers and tugged gently.

“It depends on what the caller is asking of her,” you proposed and took his other hand into your own.

His hands were bigger than yours by a mile. Rough and calloused from his life, Alfie allowed you to overturn it and caress it in your touch. He watched your eyes, not your motions as you dragged his hand up toward your body, resting his hand not tightly gripping your dress on the space on your chest not covered by clothing.

Your skin was hot to the touch. It burned him as he felt the softness so different from his own.

“I do feel a bit cold, yeah?” He questioned and in an instant brought you down onto his lap and in a scramble of legs to straddle him.

Legs now on either side of his thick thighs, you sunk to rest your core where the zipper of his trousers began to bulge.

Alfie breathed you in deeply. His gripped turned bruising as you wrapped one arm around him and the other hand reseted on his chest.

“Why Mr. Solomons,” you snickered, “this is a bit forward.”

“Says you.” His hand slipped from you uncovered chest to one of your breasts and squeezed then soothed over the pebbling bud. “Don’t know the game your playin’, love. It’d be a dangerous one for a girl like you.”

You smiled at him. Tilting your head into his, you shuttered a breath as he slipped the dress from your shoulder and let the fabric fall to reveal you to him. You shifted your hips on top of his to feel his growing sensation.

“I know my game, Alfie,” your lips barely grazed his. He chased it, nipping your bottom lip and for a moment you thought yourself crazy for acting such a way with a man like him. “Do you know yours?”

Alfie responded by meeting his lips with yours abruptly. The hand on his chest cupped his face while his simply wandered along you. His beard was long and tickling your skin as he begged to dominate your mouth with his own. You tipped his hat off and laid it on the table before pulling away with a pop.

“My God, woman,” Alfie mumbled. You rolled your hips against his softly. He moved both of his hands to grasp the sides of you and encouraged you to grind against him. Your dress fell further down your chest and bore your luscious tits to him.

You entranced him with your movements. The roll of your body, the jiggle of your breasts as you moved. He grew hard under you and his palms wandered further to gather your dress at your waist.

“You were prepared, eh?” He commented lowly at the absence of your underwear.

“I took my chances.”

One of his thumbs met your core and found your clit quickly to rub circles at the pace of your thrusts. Your body jolted at the feeling. You were out of your mind, letting him pleasure you. Yet you didn’t say no. You couldn’t say no when you were so enraptured by his entire presence.

He was thick and heavy in his trousers which only stirred you further.

Alfie circled your clit ferociously. Meticulous and rapid, he wound up the coil within you to the point of no return. His thumb gathered the wetness greedily. You cupped his head, nearly swaying him as you lost yourself and inclined your head backward as your eyelids drooped.

“Alfie,” your voice was barely above a whisper as it hitched. He had found a good spot. One so tender and reactive. He grinned slyly.

You moved to undo the belt of his pants and slid it out from the loops the best you could. He hadn’t worn suspenders or an absurd amount of vests to add to the layers. Fingers deftly popping him open and carving the lines of his cock with your hand, you worked him out of the trousers and into your palm.

“You feel plenty warm to me,” you suggested with a purr.

Alfie sat up straighter. The advantage catching the back of your neck and drawing your lips to his again. You groaned into his mouth; savoring the feeling of your lips on his as his breath mingled with yours.

You stroked him lazily in your hand while he was more deliberate in pleasuring you.

Alfie’s mouth trailed along the sides of your neck. He left foul, bruising kissed on the column as he made his way down to your tits again and took a nipple inbetween his mouth. He pulled back, gently biting it between his teeth and letting go with a tug.

“You were right,” you breathed in heavily. Rolling your hips against his hand, you had the sudden urge to have him inside of you. “I have heard the stories about the kind of man you are.”

“And? I don’t suppose you give a fuck about them now, love.”

“No,” you smiled shyly. “But I would be lying if I wasn’t interested in the things I’d heard.”

Your ran you thumb over the head of his cock to wipe at the cum that had leaked out of hum. Smoothing it over and down his shaft, he might as well have shivered at the sensation.

“I am more interested in the man I haven’t heard about. The one like this.”

Alfie quirked a brow and stopped his movements. He helped lift you slightly, taking control of his dick as his hand replaced yours and ran it along your slit.

“You wanna be my lover? A gy—“

You shushed him with a kiss. “I didn’t say that, Mr. Solomons. It’s not something anyone needs to know of.”

“Too dangerous, treacle.” He swiped his cock’s head along you clit and you could feel the blood rushing, the heartbeat that pulsed as hard as the one in your chest. “I’m not in the business of leading women as beautiful as you to an early grave.”

You shook your head gently. “I don’t believe you.”

Alfie hummed and with it, pushed the head of himself into your aching pussy that had been warmed by his previous ministrations and he was taken by the way your mouth fell agape. Shoulders relaxing and falling as you took him in as much as you could before sinking down to close the gap. You went as far as you could until there was nothing more left to take of him.

“No,” Alfie said deeply. His chest rumbled with the word and echoed as far into the room as it could reach. He didn’t allow you to adjust yourself on his cock. Alfie held your hips down and made you sit there, still.

“I don’t believe myself either.”

He relished the way your cunt swallowed him. Alfie’s mind wondered if all of your holes could take him the same and in the times you’d come to Camden to collect the payments on behalf of Tommy, he’d be able to explore all the scenarios that plagued his mind as you clenched down on him and gripped him tightly. So warm and inviting, he could stay like that forever and if this was the feeling of your first meeting, he wasn’t romantic enough to consider how he’d feel after your tenth, twentieth, or more.

Alfie’s mind traveled to you kneeling under his desk and taking his cock in your mouth; feeling you spread out before him on a table in the distillery room and watching you gush around him. He could see himself under covers in the dark pleasuring you with his mouth and the taste of you on his tongue. In the tub with your back against his and the water splashing over the sides and if he was lucky, as the sun broke the horizon in Margate in his house by the sea.

As he let you sit on him and rake your fingers through his short hair, he caressed your sides and backs of your thighs as the muscles trembled.

“When you collect the money,” he whispered as much as a man like he could, “come straight to the bakery. Go to the office and if I am not there, do not let anyone in who knocks.”

“Afraid of what your men will do to me?” You questioned and his grip tightened.

“They’d be fuckin’ idiots to try.”

You learned quickly that Alfie Solomons loved to kiss you. He enjoyed the feeling of your lips on his and the selfless way you let him take control of you. He pushed the boundaries of comfort and with his cock still inside of you hard and pulsing with want, it was hard to imagine letting another man touch you in the same way.

“You come straight to me. You take the money and I’ll leave you walkin’ funny till you return to those fuckin’ Shelby’s so they know who you belong to.”

You pulled Alfie in close around his shoulders. He loosened his grasp on your hips as you lifted yourself up. His cock coated in your slick slid along your walls and before you lost him completely, you sunk down on him again and he guided you with ease every bounce you made.

You barely squeaked as his dick filled you. Thick and long, he was exactly as you’d imagined him to be based on the man you’d heard so much about. His large thighs supported your weight and he complained not about any part of you that you’d deem less than perfect.

Letting Alfie maneuver you, you leaned back onto his thighs and your hands placed themselves on his knee caps and allowed the space between you to be viewed completely by the man. He watched you sink onto him. Watching as you took him with languid rolls and calculated moves that barely drew a sweat on your brow. He held onto you tightly and helped speed up the movements as he pulled you into him once twice and then repeatedly.

The sounds of your pleasure were lewd. For anyone could waltz in and see you both openly fucking in the dining hall of the beautiful building but they wouldn’t. The sun had long set, the doors long had been locked and all that was left was you and Alfie left to settle a score.

And it was building rapidly.

Too much. It was overstimulating—the force of his actions and the long drawl of his cock against your plush walls. You were soaked. Soaking him and his trousers that were barely pushed down enough to set him free. Your body trembled as the quick revelation of your orgasm approached. Gripping his knees so tightly your nails dug into the caps, you couldn’t help the yelps turned into weak, whimpering moans that spilled from your lips.

Alfie muttered words of mere nothing at the quake of your thighs. Your stomach’s muscles tightened and with a jolt, you lurched forward and clung onto his shoulders as your release reached its peak. Your pussy clenched down on his cock with all the strength it could in the moments between your tremors. Alfie sore disorienting profanities as your orgasm threatened his own.

He wanted to pull out. He didn’t need more on his plate than what he already had and certainly not any child that bound him to the Shelby LLC for eternity. Alfie huffed, breathing through his teeth as he lifted you up slightly and barely managed to empty himself onto your stomach and bits of your dress.

You watched as his release waded down your body and his hold loosened greatly at his finish.

“So,” Alfie spoke lowly. “Do I have your word?”

“Of what?” You responded breathlessly. He grinned at your fucked out face. The way you could barely hold yourself upright even if it wasn’t the most intense fuck either of you had ever had.

“You come straight to me, got it?”

And well, Mr. Alfie Solomons didn’t have to ask twice.

Happy almost end of Kinktober! I’m trying my best to get all the fics out that I’ve promised. I’ve never written for Alfie before and this might be equivalent to horse shit but at least I posted… right? Right!?

[cinnxmxngxrl]

“Camden’s sin”

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Shelby!Reader

Check Alfie’s Masterlist here to see the next parts

Summary: You were a Shelby working in your family’s business. You tried to convince yourself that it was just that, business. But Alfie Solomons wasn’t just business, not when he had you bent over his desk.

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: intense smut, minors DNI, unprotected piv, filthy language, oral(f!receiving), rough sex, creampie, reader is Tommy Shelby’s sister.

A/N: Again, english is not my first language, so sorry if any mistakes throw you off. I’m planing to do several more parts of this (please tell me if you have any request, this is my second time writing).

Your brother trusted you. For some reason, you were good with numbers—that was a fact. And you were good with people, probably because they all saw you as the innocent and youngest Shelby sister, but you were smarter than any man in the room. They underestimated you. That’s why you got sent to Camden Town almost every week. That, and because Alfie Solomons was utterly obsessed with you. Tommy found it convenient, really, since it always gave you the upper hand in every deal. Alfie simply couldn’t resist you.

You never thought anything of it. Yes, Alfie flirted with you—crude and blunt, filthy sometimes—but you were sure of his intentions. Just a game to piss your brother off. So you dismissed his banter.

The morning air was thick in Camden. It always was. You walked through the bakery like you owned the place, weaving through the towering barrels and busy working men until you reached his office. You didn’t even get a chance to knock. His voice came through the door, rough and immediate.

“Get in.”

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air reeked of rum and cigars. He was there, of course—seated at his desk, leaning back in the chair. Sleeves rolled up, revealing strong, tattooed forearms. His beard was thick and wild as ever.

“Well, bloody hell. The Shelbys sent me an angel today, eh?”

“You knew it was me coming, Alfie.”

“That I did. Every week, like a sharp clock, you are,” he grinned. “Lookin’ like fuckin’ sin, you do.”

You sighed. You knew all his lines by now. He’d used them a thousand times already.

“Let’s talk business, yeah?”

“What? No hello? No how’ve you been, Alfie? No I’ve missed seeing your face?”

He twitched his jaw when you stayed silent, completely ignoring his advances once again.

You tried your best to talk numbers, to finalize the new distribution routes. But it was almost impossible with the way his eyes were trailing over your body—lazy, deliberate, like he was undressing you with every glance.

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” You were pissed now.

“Well, forgive me, yeah? It’s fuckin’ hard to focus when you’re lookin’ like that.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, smirking. “You do it on purpose, you do. That dress, that mouth painted red like bloody temptation itself.”

“This isn’t a bloody game, Alfie.” You warned him, trying to stay cool and composed—even while he was practically eye-fucking you across the desk.

“Course it’s not a fuckin’ game,” he said, voice low. “I want you. And yeah, yeah, before you say it again—I know you’re Tommy’s sister. I don’t give a fuck whose sister you are, right?”

“You’re crossing the line. Stop it.” You were trying hard not to flinch, not to blush. Trying to seem unimpressed.

“Oh, am I crossing the line?” His eyes dropped to your legs. “I’ll stop it when you stop sittin’ there with those… those fuckin’ legs crossed tighter than a nun. Pressing your thighs together since the moment you got here. Probably the same way you press them every night thinkin’ of my mouth.”

He smirked, proud of the reaction he managed to pull from you.

He had you now. He bloody well did. And it pissed you off that he was so damn observant, that he noticed everything.

“Fuck you.”

“God, please.”

Your cheeks burned—with anger, yes, but with something deeper than that. Something dangerous. Something like desire.

“You’ve mistaken my tolerance for interest, Alfie. If you want to keep doing business with the Shelbys, then you fucking behave,” you hissed.

“Business?” he scoffed. “Treacle, the only thing I’m gettin’ from business with the Shelbys is fuckin’ blue balls. Havin’ to stare at you every fuckin’ week without being able to touch you the way I want.”

“Are you done? Done saying all the… filth that’s inside your mind? You’re a pig.”

“Done? I’m nowhere near done.” He leaned back, eyes gleaming. “Next time you come here, I’ll tell you what I want to do to you—page by page—like a fuckin’ scripture.”

You stood up, turned away without another word, and walked straight out of his office. Just like that. Gone. Leaving Alfie cursing under his breath.

The truth is, you should’ve told Tommy. Should’ve told him that Alfie crossed a line, so he’d send someone else. But you didn’t.

No matter how hard you tried to stay away from that man, there was an invisible string pulling you toward him.

You wore black that day. High-necked. Buttoned all the way up. But when you walked into Alfie’s office, the first thing you saw was him—waiting for you with a little old leather notebook in his hands.

He didn’t say hello. Didn’t greet you like most days. He just opened the notebook and looked at you.

“I made you a promise, right? And I’m a man of my word.” He tapped the cover with a grin. “Fuckin’ poetry I wrote for you.”

“You think I came here to hear your filth?” you said, sitting across from him, arms and legs crossed.

He ignored you completely. Cleared his throat. Adjusted his glasses. And began to read from the first page.

“You come here all proper, all buttoned up, pretendin’ to be holy. But I’d get you against my desk anyway, with my hand under your tight little skirt, as you moan my name like a fuckin’ prayer.”

He turned the page.

“You’d tell me to fuck off—’cause you love to pretend you don’t want me. But when I feel your thighs squeeze around my fingers, I know it’s all lies.”

Another page turned.

“I’d put my mouth between your legs, eat you until you can’t remember your fuckin’ name. Make you scream so loud your brother in Small Heath would hear you.”

“And I’d fuck you from behind, right on this desk we’ve signed a hundred papers on. You’d beg me not to stop. In fact, you’d beg me to go harder, ’cause—”

“Stop.” You cut him off. Your voice soft, but sharp.

You felt the heat pooling low in your stomach. Felt your undergarments dampen. But you didn’t show it. You stood up, hands trembling, legs unsteady.

“You think you’re clever? Think I’ll melt because you wrote all your filth in a book like some fucked-up priest?”

He stood too, walking around the desk toward you with slow, measured steps. “Maybe. Tell me—is it workin’?”

“You should be locked up.” You should’ve slapped him. Should’ve run. But you didn’t. You stayed. You listened to every word.

“Maybe,” he whispered, closing in. “But I’d find a way out. Just to find you.”

He was towering over you now. So close you could smell him—cigars and rum and sin.

“I should take what I want right now,” he murmured, voice rough. “Should bend you over my desk and do every fuckin’ thing I wrote in that notebook. Everything you’ve been denyin’ me.”

Your knees buckled. Your breath hitched.

“But I won’t, treacle. And you wanna know why?” His voice dropped to a growl. “Because when I do—yeah?—you won’t be walkin’ straight for a fuckin’ week. And it’s gonna be your choice.”

“My choice?” you whispered, your voice barely there, feeling his eyes devour you.

“Yours. You’ll come back here tomorrow. Not for business. Not like a Shelby. You come back for me.”

Somehow, your legs carried you out of his office. Out of the distillery. Back to the car waiting for you outside.

The moment you stepped inside Alfie’s distillery the next day, you knew it—this would be the last time you ever walked out of here untouched.

You made your way into his office, and like always, he was already expecting you. Leaning back against his desk, arms folded, eyes on you like he’d been waiting all fucking day. He looked as irresistible as ever.

“You’re late,” he said.

You checked your watch. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you’re about twenty fucking meetings late for what I really want.” His voice was low, husky. “Lock the door.”

You obeyed without thinking. As you stepped closer, his thumb grazed your throat—rough, calloused fingers surprisingly gentle.

“You want to hear it again? Page by page? ’Cause I’ve written a thousand more.”

“No,” you breathed, “I want you to show me.”

He groaned—and that was it. Restraint fully vanished. He grabbed you and crushed his mouth against yours, desperate, hungry, all tongue and teeth as he yanked your head back and devoured you like a man starving for something only you could give, with the need to own you.

You moaned when he shoved you against the desk, one hand on your throat—holding, not squeezing—while the other dragged your dress up.

No knickers. He swore.

“Fucking hell… You woman… you’re trying to kill me, are you?”

Before you could reply, his hand was already between your thighs, feeling the heat, the wetness.

“Oh, you’re so ready for me, ain’t you? Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He growled—and then dropped to his knees, right there on his office floor. Because there was only one reason Alfie Solomons got on his knees, and that was to eat cunt.

“Alfie—” you began.

“Shut up. Let me read my scripture,” he rasped. Then his mouth was on you—no patience, no mercy.

His thick beard scratched the inside of your thighs, but all you could feel was the way his tongue worked you open. Lazy circles over your clit turned into relentless strokes as he devoured you like you were his first hot meal after the war.

He pulled back for a second, just to look at you.

“Tastes fucking divine.” He gave one long, filthy lick. “Like fucking salvation.”

“Oh God—God—” you whimpered.

“No, treacle, the Lord’s got nothing to do with it. This is all me. So say my fucking name.”

“Alfie… Oh, Alfie…” you moaned, hands buried in his hair, grinding shamelessly against his mouth. He latched on your cunt harder, tongue ruthless going through your slick folds, sucking your clit in the right way. fingers gripping your thighs to keep you from flying apart.

And then—you broke. You came in seconds. Hard. Loud. Messy. Your whole body shook, and you would’ve collapsed on the floor if it weren’t for his strong arms holding you up.

He stood, his beard glistening, soaked in your fluids. Eyes dark as the night, wild. He didn’t wait a second—his hands were already unbuckling his belt.

“You ready for page two?” he growled. “’Cause I’m still fuckin’ hard. And tired of waiting.”

You nodded, It was all you could do, you were speechless, breathless.

He grabbed your body forcefully, turned you around, and bent you over his desk, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades, pinning you down like he’d envisioned a thousand times.

He spit into his hand, stroked himself rough and fast, like the world was about to end. And then—

He slammed into you.

You screamed his name, gripping the desk so hard your knuckles went white. He was huge, and if that wasn’t enough, he was brutal with his unforgiving thrusts that had you seeing stars and the whole fucking galaxy.

He pounded into you so hard you didn’t know if he loved you or hated you, hands bruising your hips, balls slamming against your ass over and over.

“Fuck—fucking—” he choked out, and you realized that this was the first time you’ve ever seen Alfie Solomons struggle to find words. “You trying to kill me? Squeezing my cock like that with this tight little cunt.” He smacked your ass, hard.

All you could do was whimper, pathetic little whimpers that came out of your mouth as he continued to dive into you.

The room was full of it—all of it—the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of the desk under your body, your muffled cries, his snarling breath mixed with all the filthy words that came out of his mouth.

“Custom-fucking-made for my cock, you were.”

“You feel so good… so wet and hot and tight for me.”

“Look at you, listen to you—moaning like a fucking whore for me.”

He was feral for you. He had turned into a beast like never before. Because even if he had his fair share of women in the past, no woman had ever made him feel like this, not a single one of them had ever felt as good as you did right now, It was all he had ever dreamed of, and more.

And you—you—were taking it, it was all you could do, cause you were built for this. No one ever fucked you like a real man should, no, that was something only Alfie could.

That sharp sting built in your belly and then it snapped—and you came again, harder this time, clenching so tight around his cock he cursed in Yiddish. You didn’t know what he said, but the way he said it made your whole body throb.

“I’m gonna fill you up… so bad it’s gonna fucking drip out of that pretty pussy all over your thighs yeah? You want that?”

“Yes… please, Alfie… fill me up.”

He pulled your hair back, arched your back against his chest, and fucked into you harder. Once. Twice. The third thrust—he buried himself deeper and he came with a guttural growl, spilling himself inside you as he moaned your name into your shoulder.

He stayed there inside you, holding you close, his lips at your throat, whispering things that made you melt, and kissing your shoulder softly, as if trying to comfort after he was the one to wreck you

When he finally pulled out, you felt it—his cum, mixed with your juices, dripping down your thighs. He shoved it all back inside with two fingers, stuffing you full of him again.

“Tell me you’ll come back next week, yeah?” His voice was oddly soft now.

You barely managed a whisper. “Try not to go mad until you see me again.”

He smiled against your skin. “Now that, treacle… that’s a promise I can’t make.”

NEXT PART HERE

‪dividers by: @/saradika-graphics‬

[jakegyllenbaalz]

tom hardy filming warrior (2011)

[val-made-a-mistake]

omg can you write something for eddie brock + venom again?

just because you asked, anon, here's a shred of something i had laying around in my notes :)

warnings: smut & monsterfucking (obviously), rough sex, hand restraint, hair pulling

word count: 187 because this concept still needs developing

//////

“Oh, God, Eddie, feelssogood—“

As a result, Eddie just fucked you even harder, and you were gasping and panting, on the edge of release.

So close — nearly there —

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, your arms becoming weak with how long they’d been used to prop yourself up, but it didn’t matter anymore, since Eddie pulled them until they were behind your back, and the rest of you collapsed headfirst into the bed.

Not for long: one hand closed around your wrists pressed into your back and the other grasped a handful of your hair, giving him full control of your body. He yanked you upward, closer to him, and in that position, you weren’t able to do much other than just take it.

FASTER, EDDIE. SHE IS NEARLY BROKEN.

“Fuck, Eddie, I’m gonna come,” you nearly screamed, your thighs shaking as he fucked you harder, and it happened extremely suddenly.

The orgasm collided into you so hard you would’ve collapsed had Eddie not grabbed you, and you cursed and shook through it, tinnitus rushing through your ears.

Somewhere in the haze, Venom was there.

GOOD GIRL.

[clairecrive]

Hey there, I got an idea for a request Alfies secretary is a quiet girl and Alfie is always flirting with her he loves to make her cheeks blush red. And one day she finally becomes brave and says something flirty back to him and he gets all flustered first as he wasn't expecting it and then he's like "fucking hell" with his cheeky grin and makes his move while he has the chance and gives her the best kiss of her life💖

A/n: Hello everyone!! It's been ages since I last wrote anything, let alone for Alfie. However, lately I 've been right down obsessed with him again and couldn't fight the urge to write for him. I found this in my inbox and I'm so so sorry it took me this long to write this!

I'm not going to tag anyone because I don't even know if there's still anyone reading this blog lol. but let me know If you want to be tagged.

MASTERLIST

"Cat and mouse"| Alfie Solomons x reader

"Hello, luv."

"Hello, Mr Solomons."

"Ah, pet how many times do I have to tell ya, eh?" You had been working for Alfie for a while now. Enough time to make you a trusted employee. Even more than that actually. if his relentless flirting was enough of tell.

By now, you were on first name bases. But even though Alfie was quite outspoken about his appreciation of you, the only way you told him it was somewhat reciprocated was by flushing furiously whenever he flirted with you.

It wasn't enough. Not anymore. And while Alfie was patient and respectful of your shy nature, you were done with this cat and mouse dance. You wanted him. You're just waiting for the right time to go for it.

"There's Mr Shelby waiting for you in the hallway, should I let him in?"

Alfie groaned at the name. You knew it was only to keep up his burly grumpy man persona he got going on. Deep down, you thought he didn't mind Tommy's company much.

"Only if you come in with him, pet. I need something beautiful to look at to survive that fucking bore, right?"

Blushing at the insinuation you nodded before going to let Mr. Shelby in and retrieve pen and paper. This was actually part of your job description. Alfie's request was more because he was a flirt and he liked to see you flush.

Nothing but charm in his vein, let me tell you.

"Ms. Y/N will be with us so she could take notes and whatnot, I hope you don't mind Tommy but to be fair, I don't give a fuck if you do, right?"

"She always does Alfie." Tommy drily pointed out while lighting a cigarette.

"Yeah well, I like to be surrounded by beautiful things, don't I?"

"So do I, Alfie. So do I." Tommy agreed

"Alright gentlemen, if you could stop flirting with each other and move onto business please. Mr. Solomons. has a packed schedule, as I'm sure you have as well Mr. Shelby." Rearranging the papers and documents in front of you, you dressed the two men. You knew that they could go on for while like this. Especially alfie had a way of talking for hours without actually saying anything. It made for a perfect business strategy but you knew that he actually needed to settle things with Tommy.

The brume acknowledged her with just a light tilt of his lips while your boss sputtered in shock.

"Fucking hell, pet. What the fuck are ya on about, eh?" He looked at you, and you could see that other than the shock for your outrageous implication, there was actually surprise in his eyes. And then a pleased glimmer.

You only raised an eyebrow at him to silently suggest to just get on with the meeting.

"Fucking women, eh Tommy? Wild creature they are, I tell ya. You never can guess what's on their fucking mind, can ya."

"If you'd get on with it, then maybe you'll have enough time this evening so that I can tell you over dinner."

You had never seen Alfie Solomons speechless. Hell, you had never seen him be silent for more than one minute. You bet that he talked even in his sleeps.

Well, would you look at him now. Eyes wide and mouth almost open. If you hadn't just taken a huge leap out of your comfort zone, you'd find this situation funny.

Tommy Shelby probably did.

"You know what, Alfie? I'll come back tomorrow." And with just a tilt of his head in your direction, the brummie was off and out of Alfie's office.

Meanwhile, Alfie was still looking at you. Which was making you nervous. And when you were nervous, you tended to rumble.

"What? Is it such a preposterous idea?" you said being defensive.

"Fucking hell, pet. Didn't know you had it in ya."

"You're not the only one who can flirt, you know." You mumble, suddenly shy.

"Of course, not. And I fucking hope you're not going to stop either." He smirked at you. Pushing away from his desk he turned so that he was completely facing you.

"Now, why don't you come here and show me exactly what's on yer mind, eh?"

Burning. Your cheeks were burning red by now. But you did exactly what he said. You got up and you walked so that you were now facing him.

With him sitting down and you standing in front of him, you were almost the same height.

You didn't know what to do with your hands, with yourself really. That sudden burst of courage was long gone now.

Taking you in, Alfie could see that as well. Smiling, he gently pulled you even closer to him.

"We could wait 'till dinner and even after that, pet y'know? There's no rush, yeah?" He softly promised. He had been flirting with you for months after all, what's a few more weeks or however much you needed?

"I don't want to wait anymore, Alfie. I just don't know what to do." You looked at him under your lashes, all bashful and cute and Alfie could barely restrain himself.

"Then let me show ya, right?"

Gently cradling your face, Alfie leaned in. He let his nose touch yours in a gentle caress so that you had time to pulled away if you wanted to.

Then, when you didn't he finally kissed you.

It was gentle and soft and, in your opinion, the best kiss in the world.

[annmaximoff18]

Eddie: Hello darling

Y/N: Hello, guess what I bought?

leaves two bags of groceries on the kitchen table

Y/N: I will make a chocolate cake for my two strong and handsome loves.

Venom: Eddie, marry her, MARRY HER.

[charliehoennam]

gentle giant

Summary: The Solomons enjoy quality family time with their young baby daughter as per request by @j23r23

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of pregnancy and natural childbirth, oc!daughter, hints at smut

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG.

"She can't even play with that yet, Alf. She's too small" you told him when he brought home a large and lavish dollhouse, carried up to your daughter's nursery room by a couple of his men.

"Course she can't now. But, she will someday. Nothing but the best for my little Laura."

You chuckled and shook your head at his excitement, deciding to let him be happy because he genuinely was.

He has never been prouder of anything in his life.

It was needless to say that Alfie wasn't like most fathers of the time. Every day, you woke up feeling blessed and fortunate enough to be his wife.

Now, you are the mother of his child. Of his first born princess that he was already spoiling with all the finest little clothes and toys.

It's been a few months since you'd brought Laura into the world and Alfie's pride radiated as if he'd just learned he was going to be a father. Having expected the high of newfound fatherhood to fade away with late night nappy changes and early morning hungry cries, you were surprised to find that he was still so thrilled about being a father.

Not only was he proud of his little Laura, but he was still amazed beyond comprehension at your body.

During the pregnancy, he constantly marveled at the growing bump in your belly. Alfie was no fool; he understood perfectly well how a woman's body works, yet it was still the greatest miracle to him.

He never stopped calling you a Goddess for having the power to create life.

The birth of your daughter left him complete ecstasy.

Most men, especially in Jewish traditions, it was uncommon for the father to be present in the room for such a thing. But, then again, Alfie was no common man. He was always far from ordinary.

He insisted on being present to watch the miracle himself.

You'd talked about it before and assured him the midwives would take care of you. After all, he had hired the best staff to take care of you before, during and after the pregnancy.

He still continue to insist on being present - as long as you were comfortable with his presence - to watch his beloved daughter come into the world. He would've brought her out of you himself if only he knew how.

You wondered if it might have been instigated by the jealous thought of having a doctor between your legs.

You were more than grateful that he had insisted so strongly because you truly believe that, if it hadn't been for his motivating words and endearing support, you couldn't have done it by yourself.

Alfie had never cried so much in his entire life as he did when he first heard Laura's cries. You knew right away that Laura would have him wrapped around her wrinkly little finger.

And you were right.

It's late evening when Alfie comes home from an exhausting long day of work.

After hanging his hat and coat, he greets his favorite dog and heads off to search for you and his little Laura only to find you naked in the luxurious porcelain tub of your bathroom with your young 6-month-old daughter, sharing a warm bath.

"Well, ain't this a sight for sore eyes, eh?" he smirks from the doorway.

His heart warms as he sees your eyes light up.

"Baths always help her sleep better."

"Can't blame her," he nods unbuttoning his shirt. "Any room for me?"

"There's always room for you."

Of course there is. You hardly get much time to spend with your husband. The absence has him yearning for his family just the same.

He sinks into the opposite side of the tub with a tired groan, raising the water level to your swollen breasts.

"Give 'er here. Give 'er to poppa."

You carefully handed your daughter over to his hands.

Alfie holds her against his naked burly chest, kissing her head and cheeks as he informs her how much he's missed her in the softest tone.

"Daddy's missed you so much, princess. Yes, I have. Barely got see my little angel today. But that's alright, yeah? Poppa's here now, ain't he? You been good for your mother? Behaved yourself?" he questions as if she could respond, taking the small bowl to fill with water before gently pouring it over her back.

You watch leaning back against the porcelain, and admire the vulnerability of the big bad Alfie Solomons.

The word that spread around only spoke how cruel and cunning he was; of the horrors he was capable of and enjoyed inflicting upon those who betrayed him.

Yet, only you know how he could be the complete opposite. This version of him was for your eyes only and, for that, you felt blessed.

With his large hand cupped over Laura's little bare bum, he smiles as he relishes in the sounds of her giggles emitted every time he pours water over her back.

"Yeah, you like that, eh?" Alfie chuckles. "Want another go?"

She squeals happily as he repeats the action, excitedly pulling at his burly chest hair.

He yelps as he tries to unlatch her tiny fingers from his hairs.

"Got the grip of the Devil, don't she?"

"Tell that to my hair. Have to keep it up all the time so she doesn't turn me bald" you smile at him.

She giggles more enthusiastically as she pulls at them again.

"Ow! Laura, I am your father, young lady" he playfully chastises her.

"I think she takes after you."

"How so?"

"She enjoys hurting others."

"No, I enjoy hurting those who deserve it. I done nothing to deserve this" he chuckles at you.

"That's nothing compared to her biting my tits. If you think she's got hands of the Devil, try her teeth."

"They're starting to come in, innit?" he asks gently pulling her chin down to examine the two little white spots on her lower gums. "You never complained when I nibbled on them" he continues shooting a smirking glance at you.

"That was different" you chuckle back.

"I can be gentle" he replies with a wandering gaze at your chest.

"No. They're sore as fuck, Alf. They're off limits tonight."

"They're irresistible, they are. Fucking tripled in size, innit?" he chuckles. "Fucking 'ell, love. God is a cruel bloke, He is."

You laugh shaking your head. Alfie never fails to make you feel like a goddess, despite the worries you had about your changing body. It was exactly uncommon at the time for men to lose interest in their wives after pregnancy.

You'd seen many women go through it and you feared your fate would've been the same.

Thankfully, pregnancy had the opposite effect on Alfie. He was already eager to get started on the second child.

"All I'm saying is Laura will need a sibling when she's older."

Alfie's debating continued even after your shared bath. You're trying your cotton robe closed as he carries Laura into your bedroom where you had laid out her sleeping clothes beforehand.

"You say that all the time."

"Doesn't it make it less true. Besides, the fun part is trying."

Laying Laura down on the bed with a smirk, he stands upright and faces you.

The way he holds your waist has you melting under his touch. You take advantage of the moment to admire his details.

The wrinkles on his forehead, the disheveled light brown locks shining in the warm light of your room, the hairy tuffs that were peeking out from his robe.

You slide your palms up his strong arms until they rest on the back of his neck.

"Alright. I'll put her down for bed and we can have some fun time of our own" you smile sweetly at him.

His plush lips - hidden in his bushy brown beard - spread widely with mischief and excitement, infecting you with arousal as they made their way to press against your own.

You kiss him deliciously, letting his hand rest against your soft cheek. His tongue flicks against your bottom, already begging for entrance. You allow him it.

The kiss is more than enough to fuel the fire already sparked inside, in the depth of your cores. But you're both brought back to reality when Laura tiredly whines and rubs her sleepy eyes, kicking her chubby legs in the air out of frustration.

You part from Alfie's loving hold on you and bend down to scoop Laura up into your arms, assuring her everything is alright in gentle whispers.

Alfie watches how your loving nature is quick to soothe your fussy daugther in admiration. He loves watching you with her. His wife with his daughter in arms. His family.

All the words in every language would never be enough to describe the joy and pride you bring out in him.

Getting Laura to fall asleep is hardly a challenge. She was already tired from the long day and from staying up a bit past her bedtime.

Once you get her warmly dressed for the night, you sit in her nursery's rocking chair to give her one last feed.

She latches onto your nipple quickly, staring up at you with big doey eyes. The mixture of blue and gray remind you of Alfie. Her long lashes flutter as she slowly blinks, suckling for milk as she holds your index finger in her tiny hand.

You hum as you let her drink her fill, hoping to lull her sleep.

She can't resist the building sleep no matter how hard she tries. At this point, she's not even trying to drink anymore. Her eyelids grow heavier with every blink.

Gently tucking your breast back into your robe, you rest Laura's head against your shoulder as you gently pat her back to burp her.

She tries to fuss about having her favorite source of nutrition taken away, but her exhaustion dominates.

It doesn't her long to fall asleep.

Before setting Laura in her crib without stirring her too much, you kiss her head and thank the universe for blessing you such a precious little angel to care for and love.

Walking back to your room, you search Alfie but you find he's no longer there. So, you walk down the hall and the stairs in search of your husband, knowing exactly where to find him.

The office door is open as the light shines, providing the only light in the hallway. As you lean in the doorway, you smile and tap against the wooden door.

"She go down alright or put up a fuss?" Alfie smiles looking up at you from his paperwork.

"No fuss tonight. I think she was really tired." You walk into his office with a smile as you make your way towards him. "Now it's time for the grown-ups to have some fun."

Alfie smirks as his chair spins, watching you struct over to his side. His eyes scan over your frame, drinking in the sight of you as you untie your robe, letting the fabric part and shyly reveal your naked body.

"Unless you'd like to stay down here and work?"

He chuckles as he stands and kisses you tenderly, holding your face in his hands as if you're made of the most delicate and precious glass with his rough fingertips gently propping your chin up to make you face him.

"Love, the only work I've got to do is fucking you until you can't walk."