Warnings - Utter porn throughout. Under 18? This isn’t for you!
“Yeah, like that don’t you, treacle? Like it when I fuck this pretty little cunt hard, eh?” He growls in your ear, his thick fingers plunging in and out of your soaking core, his other hand grasping your neck, holding you firm as you pant, wailing for him. His thick, gold rings pound against your delicate flesh, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, his voice gone to gravel completely. “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ wet, darlin’. Literally gushing all over my hand, just the way I like ya.”
Pleasure skitters through you wildly as he assails your walls with each dagger of those two relentless digits, the evocator of your ruin, your big, hairy beast of a man making you feel good, like you’re gilding all over, sat on the hallway table. He couldn’t even wait to get you up the stairs, he was craving you so badly. “Look at me, sweetheart, open those pretty eyes. Yeah, that’s it. You’re my good girl, ain’t ya? Always take it so bloody well.”
He hits you deep, thumb moving to your clit and stroking softly, groaning against your neck as he scatters a constellation of kisses there at your throat, your wails making his cock stiffen, your tight little hole widening more as you tingle for him, glossing his hand further. He literally has you open, dripping and ready for him.
“Alfie, please fuck me. I need you so badly,” you pant, your mouth breaking on a cry as he thumbs your bundle more thoroughly.
“You need my cock, eh, darlin’? That what you’re craving, for me to split you in half and fuck your brains out, yeah?”
“Yes!” you gasp, just the thought causing little pricks of pleasure to melt down your spine. He pulls himself from his trousers, tongue gliding your cheek as he removes the fingers within you, urgently plunging in something considerably bigger and thicker, parting your walls perfectly, evoking a carnal whine of desire.
“Yeah, that’s what you wanted, ain’t it, petal? A nice fat, hot cock. Fuck, you’re so tight.” He grunts, hand holding your neck a little tighter, kissing you with feral longing. Pleasure skirrs through you, immediate, biting, overwhelming, his rigidity filling you entirely, your body lifted from the table with every long, greedy thrust. His hips snap against you sharply, his free hand grasping your thigh, nails digging in, rings cold against your hot flesh as he fucks you, so deep, so damned hard.
Your body is at the mercy of his completely, his bulk encompassing you, hand clutching at your throat a little tighter. “My pretty princess, yeah, you take me well, really love it when I give you a damned good seeing to, eh?”
“Ahhh, fuck yes!”
“Mmmm, I love it when you swear for me.”
“What, when I tell you how I love every inch of you and your perfect, big cock? How it feels when you destroy my cunt with it?” His groan is saturated in lust, your dirty talk making him shudder as you share filthy, open-mouthed kisses, tongues battling, breaths ragged, the swell of euphoria upon you both as it blooms, beautiful and brutal, taking you both, lightning striking home.
Sex like that is always too ferocious to last for a long time, but with Alfie, you’re always guaranteed of a good time.
It’s Bloody Three O'clock In The Mornin’ - (Alfie Solomons x Reader)
Word count: 1218
Warnings: Swearing. Angst for both Alfie and the reader. Stalking.
A/N: Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.
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It had been a very long and tiring week. Alfie wanted nothing more than to get home and collapse into his bed, but there was something that needed to be done back at the office before he could allow himself the luxury. And thank God he made his way back there.
At first, as he made his way into the building, he thought someone had broken in, hearing the sound of rummaging papers coming from his dimly lit office. But as he silently crept down the passage, the sound of your familiar sigh travelled up to greet him. And instantly he felt himself relax… Nevertheless, why were you still at work, when everyone had left hours ago?
Stopping in the doorway, Alfie spoke with surprise, “Y/N? What are you still doin’ ‘ere? It’s bloody three o’clock in the mornin’? Instantly, regret washed over him when the sound of his voice had you jumping ten feet in the air, your hands releasing a stack of papers in a shower across the floor. Now normally, he would have teased your flightiness, but something in your manner seemed on edge and anxious… and rather uncharacteristically, it had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Because if you willingly chose to spend the loneliest hours of the night, alone, in the dark shadowy office of a notorious gangster, something must be very wrong.
Spinning on your toes, your eyes washed with relief at the sight of his familiar face, and Alfie couldn’t deny the spark of joy it brought to his heart; you were happy to see him. But the fleeting moment of fear he saw before your relief arrived, twisted like a knife in a wound. And he needed to know… what, or more importantly, who, was responsible for bringing such a look of fear to your lovely E/C eyes?
Moving to your side, he wrapped a hand around your elbow, stopping you from kneeling down to gather the papers. You were trembling, and it made him anxious in the most instinctive way. Guiding you upright, he tried to catch your gaze, but your eyes flittered around the floor as your lips formed an incoherent apology. Alfie usually restrained himself from physically touching you, not that he didn’t want to, truth be told, it was something he had wanted for quite some time. But what he really needed right now, was to see your eyes. With a soft touch he caught your chin between his fingertips and moved your gaze to his, asking again, “Y/N, what are you still doin’ ‘ere at this hour?”
He felt pressure on his hand as you tried to lower your head, but his fingertips gently declined you the opportunity to avert your eyes as he waited patiently for your answer. Breathing deeply, you nibbled nervously on your bottom lip, the same look of fear creeping back like a shadow across your face… and he knew then, you were in serious danger. Moving his own head to follow your reluctant gaze, he prompted again, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”
Shaking your head gently, you blinked long and heavy trying to avoid the intense look in his eyes, and it was clear to him that you were about to lie, “Nothing, Mr. Solomons… there’s just a bit of work I need to catch up with.”
Letting go of your chin, his hands went to his hips. “Mr. Solomons…? It’s been a fuckin’ long time since you ‘ave called me that… and we both know you never fall behind… So why don’t ya stop with the shit and just tell me what’s going on.”
A moment of defeat crept upon your voice, and yet, you persisted, “It’s nothing, Alfie… I, I don’t want to bother you… You have enough going on.”
If Alfie wasn’t so concerned, he would have laughed, nothing you could ever want or need would ever be a bother to him. Making a tsking sound, he spoke, “The only thing botherin’ me is not knowin’ what has you so fuckin’ terrified, yeah?” Alfie’s fingers twitched at his hip, resisting the urge to brush a stray lock of hair back to where it had escaped from behind your ear, “Now tell me… Why are you still here at three o’clock in the mornin? You should be tucked up in bed.”
Another deep breath passed through your chest, your expression now completely resigned in defeat, your words filling his veins with a burning pulsing rage, “There’s a man… he, he’s always there… at my house.” Alfie’s whole body grew rigid, but he silently gestured for you to continue. “At first, I thought I was imagining it, he would always stand in the shadows in the lane across the street. But… every night he moves a little closer.”
Almost growling through clenched teeth, Alfie asked, “Who is this bastard?”
You shook your head, your sweet voice beginning to shake, “I, I don’t know him… every night he’s there. I see him from my window… I lay awake, list… listening for every noise, waiting for him to kick down my door.” Through his building rage he noticed the darkness tarnishing the valleys beneath your beautiful eyes, stark evidence of your sleepless nights; how had he not noticed it sooner.
For a moment you were silent, your hesitance to continue was evident as you nibbled at your bottom lip, yet, you took another deep breath to steady yourself and continued. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to him, “I was so relieved when I got home last night… I couldn’t see him anywhere, but I… I found this pushed under my door.”
Unfolding the paper, he read the message scribbled across it, his fingers holding it taught in his grip, almost tearing it at the edges.
I have been watching for a long time Much longer than you know Even when you can’t see me, I am here, watching and waiting
Crushing the message in his fist, he threw it to the ground, barely aware of the guttural sound escaping his throat, his head too heavy with rage to notice. Was this man an imbecile? Too stupid to realise who you worked for, and too unfortunate to know how much you meant to him? Well, soon this misunderstanding would be rectified. And not only this monster of a man, but everyone… would understand the risk they took if they decided they wanted to mess with you.
Moving his hand up along your arm, he slipped it to the nape of your neck, pulling you into his arms. And even in his anger, the feeling of your hair within his palm and the beat of your heart against his chest satisfied a long-awaited yearning. Biting down his rage… just for you, he relaxed his rigid form, desperately wanting to comfort your trembling body… to make you feel safe… to feel protected.
Then resting his temple to the side of your head, he spoke, his words harsh and threatening, but his voice, somehow gentle and comforting against your ear. “Nobody is ever gonna hurt you while I’m fuckin’ breathin’… Now tell me how to get into your place without being seen…? Cause you’re gonna show me exactly who this fucker is, yeah?”
