You wanted it, you got it! 

The obvious, titular song, Paradise Circus by Massive Attack- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEgX64n3T7g&list=RDjEgX64n3T7g&start_radio=1

Everything is Everything by Lauryn Hill- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x5ED4_LOeEY

I can’t help falling in love with You by UB40- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vUdloUqZa7w

Ex-Factor by Lauryn Hill- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V89ZjRwMlvM

I shall add to the list as I find more fittings songs for it, no doubt. For those not familiar with the story, find the masterlist here! And for those who are, let me know in the comments if you have any songs that remind you of Tommy and Darla. 

I thought it deserved its very own masterlist! :)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Big thanks to everyone for your dedication to reading and commenting on this! I’m thrilled by your responses and love that you’re so invested in the story :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 2,463

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. NO MINORS, PLEASE!

Stunned silence followed her revelation, as Darla expected.  

“But, you’re on the pill?” Aimee questioned firstly. “And with a new guy, you always use condoms until you know it’s safe to forgo them!”

“I know, I know,” she began, swiping a hand over her unmade face, sighing. “I slipped up. I forgot to take a couple here and there, and as for the lack of condom, again, I slipped up. I was drunk and ridiculously horny, and I know it was no excuse, but it is what it is. I got wrapped up in the moment, in him, and I know I shouldn’t have been so careless, but I was.”

“Hey, don’t shoulder this all by yourself, my love. He has to take some of the blame too for not wrapping before tapping,” Chantelle was quick to point out, shuffling her chair closer, resting a supportive hand on her thigh. “Have you told him yet?”

“Oh, hell no,” Darla exclaimed, wide eyed. “This is the first time I’ve said it out loud to anyone. I’m just trying to process it all and it’s only really landing on me right now, speaking it aloud. I’m pregnant. Fuck.”

All of her usual sparkle was completely drained from her, her friends noting how daunted she looked by the prospect, both jointly hugging her supportively.

“I know you of course have to discuss it with him first, but do you have any ideas over what you want to do?” Aimee asked gently.

“You guys know my feelings towards abortion.” They did. Darla believed staunchly that it shouldn’t be used as a contraceptive, that the procedure was one that while she would staunchly fight for any woman’s rights to have access to, was not an option to take lightly for herself.  

“There’s a pill you can take, you know. It just makes it go away and you get a really heavy period. I took it when I fell pregnant right at the start of my relationship with Adam. I’m unsure whether I told you guys that, we didn’t exactly publicise it but thought it was the most sensible solution at the time,” Chantelle advised softly, stroking the tears that had begun to splash Darla’s cheeks.  

“I know, I know there is, yeah. And I didn’t know that, that was a very brave choice. But for me, it just feels wrong. And god, how much I want to be a mother some day! I know at thirty-two now is the time I have to start considering my options, but with Tommy? Oh, man. I don’t even like him that much! We’re not even in a relationship either!”

“You certainly have a lot to think about, but we’ll be here every step. We got you, boo.” Laying a little kiss to her temple, Aimee grasped her hand, Darla feeling warm and supported by the enveloping of love and understanding from her best friends. They took a few silent moments, just hugging her, Darla shedding a few more tears before recovering herself.

“Okay, the weepy, woe-is-me portion of the evening is over,” she began, drying her face and kissing them both. “Let girls night resume so I don’t have to think about this for a couple of hours!”

They were more than happy to help her forget her woes, their night together resuming as they caught up on their lives, both noticing that although she tried, Darla continued to lack her usual effervescence. It was only natural that she would, taking her current predicament into consideration.  

After an evening of laughs and fun, everything she needed for a little much required respite, Darla arrived home at just gone midnight, to a very quiet apartment and her thoughts creeping back in, as they undoubtedly would. She knew she had to reach out to Tommy, but in her mind, that made it even realer than it had gotten in revealing it to her friends.  

He was just meant to be a fuck buddy, and now look where she was. Carrying his child.  

In fact, he was barely even a fuck buddy! They’d had sex twice. Well, there’d been two encounters. She’d honestly lost count how many times they’d done it throughout the marathon that was their first time together.  

“But all it takes is one time, you damned foolish woman.” She sighed. Oh, how sorely she needed a glass of wine at that moment. Succumbing to the urge was not an option, though. “It isn’t your fault I’m a screw up, tiny little thing in there.” She spoke, looking down at her midriff.  

Yes, she knew she had to act swiftly in telling Tommy, waiting until the morning before calling him.  

“You’re about the last person I expected to hear from,” he spoke upon answering, taking a pause between clients at the gym. He expected he might feel mad at her if she ever did get in touch again, but much to his surprise, he didn’t at all. His body remembered well, how good that woman made it feel.  

“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your message. I’ve had a lot on but I accept your apology and don’t harbour any ill feelings at all. I should have known you might find such topics triggering.” He felt good at hearing that, knowing that while he’d been the one in the wrong, she still wanted to let him know that she saw why he’d gotten so wound up. “Listen, are you busy later? I need to see you.”

“I’m free for a little while this afternoon. Are you alright? You don’t quite sound your usual self.” How right he was there.

“I’m not, no. I have a lot on my plate.”

“Ahh, need me to come distract you?” he laughed softly. “Yeah, I can be at your place at three.”  

“Something like that, yeah. Alright, I’ll see you then.”

A guilty feeling crept over her, knowing that he thought he was simply coming round to partake in something much sweeter than the true reason, but selfless as she was, she didn’t want to burden him before she really needed to. Her news would be enough of a catastrophe, a big enough bomb to drop straight into his lap as it was.  

In the time between, she threw herself into deep cleaning her apartment for lack of anything better to do, up to her elbows in suds, various cloths, sprays and floor cleaner, even moving the couch out to despair at the state of the dust build up beneath. Also, just under ten dollars in small change, an old chocolate covered raisin, chip crumbs and her wide toothed comb, of which she’d already replaced.  

“Mental note; stop deep conditioning and detangling while watching infomercials.”  

For the forty minutes left until he arrived, she sat and enjoyed the fresh smells throughout her apartment, lighting her favourite candles and creating an atmosphere of serenity, curling up and reading the poetic verse penned by one of her heroes, Maya Angelou. She sank into an idyllic state of relax, so much so she almost threw her treasured book in the air when a knock at the door disturbed her tranquillity.  

“Oh god, oh Jesus, help me.” She whispered, taking a deep breath and shaking her hands around nervously, trying to dispel the tonne of tension that had just hit her squarely. She could relax all she liked, but it was only a distraction from the inevitable, what she had to now reveal to the man on the other side of her door. “Hey, thanks for coming over.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it worth my while,” he replied, winking speedily. “Or, will you? Because right now, you look kinda spooked.”  

She nodded, patting the couch. “Take a seat, Tommy. I have to admit, I kinda have you here under false pretences, or rather, I didn’t correct your assumption over the purpose of your visit.”

He sat down, his look of confusion growing, a slight frown denting his forehead. “Okay.” he spoke slowly, wondering what on earth she had to say.  

Darla hesitated, having visions of him blowing up at her, knowing that of course, he could sometimes have a very short fuse, much like she’d experienced the last time he’d been there. Equally, she told herself to keep her own feistiness in check, as it seemed to be the thing that caused the clash between them. “Okay, alright. Phew, this isn’t easy, it really isn’t, but here it is. I’m pregnant. You’re the only man I’ve had sex with in months, too, so it’s definitely yours.”  

She waited for it, but it didn’t come. Instead, he looked a little wide eyed while he processed the news, Darla watching it sink in as he let out a long breath, reaching to squeeze her arm. “Are you okay?”

“Nope, far from it.”

“We were damned stupid, not using a condom. Twice! It’s as much my fault as it is yours there. Jesus… fuck. Oh, damn.”  

She had to let him know something there, so in the interests of honesty, revealed her forgetting to take a few of her pills. Again, she braced for a blow up.  

“Darla, if it was down to me to take them, I’d likely be knocking up women left, right and centre, so don’t be harsh on yourself, alright? You forgot, you’re human,” he told her, Darla feeling relieved. He was taking it as well as she could have ever hoped for. They sat silently for a time, both reflecting upon the news, Darla feeling it penetrate a little deeper for telling him, and Tommy letting it absorb fully. “So, what do you want to do? I’m assuming you don’t want to keep it? I’d be on board with that. Kids aren’t in my plan right now.”

“While I think that the time is all wrong, and to have a child with you, someone I’m not even in a relationship with, someone I also clash with as much as I do, I also cannot disregard my own beliefs, and for me, I do not agree with using abortion as a method of contraception.”  

“You don’t agree with abortion? What? Sorry, no. No. I’m staunch pro-choice. How can you say that? What about all the women out there who are raped and get pregnant from it? Or hell, just women who deserve body autonomy and to make their own damned decisions?” And there was the blow up.

“No, Tommy, calm down. It’s for me, what I do with my body, not what another woman chooses to do with hers. I’m pro-choice as well, believe me, I am. For me, though, I have a lot to reconcile, before I’m to make the choice to terminate the pregnancy, and the first step of that was telling you. Please, don’t be angry,” she sighed, feeling heavy with it again.  

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to blow up. I misunderstood, is all,” he began, sighing as he ran a hand down his face. “So, you’re saying there’s a chance you’re gonna want to keep it?”

“There is, but I think now I have your measure on going forward with it, that being a firm no, then I have to begin that reconciliation. Because you don’t want it, do you?”

He sighed, scratching his head, sitting further back against the comfort of the couch. Oh, how he’d had not a care in the world, the last time he’d been upon it. Now, it seemed, he carried the weight of the world upon his broad shoulders. “That’s my immediate reaction, for sure. Also, though, I want to be respectful to you, of what you want. You’re the one who has to either go through something that I can imagine is really unpleasant, or carry it for nine months, whatever we decide.”  

“I take from that, you could be flexible, then?”

“I could be,” he began. “We’d be signing up for a fucking tough time, though. We know we don’t really get on, so I have my reservations over bringing a child into that, I really do.”

“You’re not alone there. Let’s be brutal, we don’t really like one another that much, do we? I mean, I don’t dislike you, you’re a good guy, but you’re just not right for me.”  

“Same, so that’s where the first big stumbling block would be. How stupid would we have to be to have a baby together, bearing that in mind?”

What he said made perfect sense, all the sense in the world, in fact.  

“Perhaps we need to acknowledge our differences head on and actually respect that we’re different. That could go a long way to help, couldn’t it?”

“If we did, would you stop being so goddamned preachy? Not everything you believe is a lesson you need to instil in someone else, you know.”

She nodded, hearing him, acknowledging his words. “I would. I’m actually embarrassed, you know, about our first date. I don’t even get like that with the kids I teach, to literally lecture them, and I know I did with you. I apologise, I think nerves got the better of me, perhaps. I am like that, though, very self-righteous. It’s a fault I need to work on.”

It felt good to hear, that she knew she hadn’t behaved ideally with how forthright she’d been on that night. He felt vindicated somewhat.  

“In turn, I’m sorry I blew up at you. I’m bad tempered sometimes and that’s something I too need to work on. It wasn’t your fault, what you said was perfectly cogent, I guess. I might not personally agree, but I can see where you were coming from, and that you really didn’t mean it as a personal attack against me or my experiences with having an addict for a father.”

He paused, carefully considering his next words. “All of that aside, though, is it really a good idea? Say we got on like a house on fire and actually were dating, it’d still be too soon, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, yes it would. And I do see where you’re coming from, about it been stupid to bring a baby into this, but I’m still not too sure about how I feel in terminating. Everything within me says no, says I know I’m going to feel tremendous guilt over it, but yeah, going ahead, it would be the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” she shared, Tommy reaching to squeeze her hand momentarily.

“You can’t be that far along yet, though, so you have time. We have time.”  

He was right, they did.  

Time was exactly what they would both need, too, in order to make the best decision for them going forward. It wouldn’t be easy, and neither were under any illusions that it would.  

A/N - Now, here’s the really, really important part. Did you enjoy it? If so, please don’t just redundantly click that heart. Reblog it. Also, I love to engage with my readers, so a little comment would not go amiss either! Doesn’t have to be long, just reach out. I’m all about building community here and there is nothing more lovely than readers and writers supporting one another!

So, since there was interest in me doing a cast of characters for the story, et voila! The obvious two are first, but I’d be interested how you imagined the rest prior to viewing the below!

Tommy Conlon

Darla Cooke

Meadow

Heather

Aimee

Chantelle

Nancy - Darla’s mum

Mike - Darla’s dad

Upon Darkened Shores - Chapter Fifteen.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen

Tag list - In comments. Please ask if you wish to be added!

Words - 3,092

Warnings - 18+ content! Minors DNI!!

“How, I must ask, did you become so talented as a lover? You are naturally gifted, I feel. You must have left a throng of very satisfied women in your wake,” Delilah asked, lying with her head upon his chest in his messy, blanket entangled bed after their second lustful exchange of the afternoon.  

“I shall answer that question in two parts. The first part is that no, I was not naturally gifted. I was taught well, though, by a woman I was with during my time in Africa. Before her, I see that I was mostly a clumsy, boorish oaf where satisfying a woman was concerned. As for a throng of women, no again.”

“How many?”

He held up his hand, indicating five. “Oh no, actually. Six now, counting you.”

“Tell me about them,” she requested, propping her head onto her palm as she looked down at him, idly stroking his chest.  

“The first was the scullery maid, the second her daughter.”

“James!” she cried, looking shocked. “How scandalous!”

“It was, yes. My father was not pleased at me for that. The third…” He trailed off there, seeing Zilpha’s face in his mind, “I would rather not discuss. The fourth was Makosi, the woman who taught me the skills I now possess, and the fifth was a whore in Portugal. As a lady, I do not expect for you to reveal the same to me, in case you wondered.”

She thought it sweet of him to say that, but had no qualms about sharing. “I do not mind at all. Two before you. The first was Jack, our stable boy back when I lived in Victoria, when my father was still alive. Oh, he would have tanned his hide, had he ever found out of our clandestine romps in the hay!” she began, chuckling at the memory of her first passions, and a very prickly bottom because of them. “And then second, obviously Charles. Tell me, though, why do you not wish to speak of the third?”

He felt uncomfortable suddenly, Delilah reading it well, moving her hand to his face. “The memory brings you distress. I can feel it.”

“It was very complicated,” he began, none too sure how she would react to the revelation. “And I confess, I fear your judgement.”  

She smiled, kissing him softly. “I am not that kind of woman, James.”

“You might be, after hearing it.”  

She could only wonder what on earth his secret entailed, if he thought she might pass judgement upon him for revealing it.

James pondered it for a few moments, contemplative, wondering if she would still look at him in the same way once she knew. He supposed there was but one way to discover that. “She was my half-sister. We began a secretive affair. We were very young, too young, in fact. Too young to know it was wrong, although we both likely did beneath. I did love her, for a long, long time, but when I returned to her, back to England, she was not the same.  

“She was not the person I had left, and me, I was no longer the same either. I used to believe that we were the same person, but I was mistaken. Time and life, it had changed us both. I know now that it was not right, to find myself in the grips of an incestuous romance, I very much see that with clear eyes, although the memory of her is one which haunts me. The ghost of her, has haunted me.”

“You speak of her as if she is no longer here,” Delilah stated, James a little rocked by the fact that was her only reaction to a piece of information so scurrilous.  

“She is not. She took her own life. Zilpha was a miserable woman, and in order to let herself out of that misery, suicide was the path she chose to take.”

“I am sorry, that her ending was so tragic.”

“That is your only take from this? Are you not somehow shocked or repulsed by my confession?” he asked, knowing that others would be.  

She shrugged, unphased. “I personally would not entertain such a relationship with a sibling, but it isn’t unheard of. It is quite common within royalty and the gentry, for example, for purification of the bloodlines. I do not necessarily condone it, but I do not judge you for it either.”

Her words were like a soothing elixir to him, one he was in no hurry to quit drinking in. “You are a rare breed, Delilah.”

“Quite right.” She laughed softly, kissing him again. She hated to check, put looking to where she had placed her pocket watch upon the tea chest, she saw that lamentably, she had to be on her way. “It pains me to reveal it, but I must be going. Know that I truly do not want to, though.”  

Nor did he, James making his protest known by pulling her back against his chest, Delilah giggling softly. “Spare me just a few more moments.” The kiss he gave her, she was utterly powerless to fight against.  

“For you, I have a few of those.” They drank one another in for those precious few minutes, James letting her finally leave his arms with much reluctance, more of it washing over him as he watched her ride away from his camp, sighing, only left with the scent of her all over him.  

“You’ve spent all afternoon corrupting that lovely young thing, haven’t you?” Bill asked, arriving at his side.  

“Do you envy such?”

“Yeah, I bloody do, you lucky ole’ dog,” his friend revealed, giving him a shove with his shoulder, James chuckling deeply.  

“That I am, Bill. Now, shall we go and inspect the cabins? I notice we are close to having rooves fully erected,” he spoke, Atticus arriving with them.

“They ain’t the only things that got fully erected this afternoon, either.”  

“Watch your tongue.”

“Why? Is yours worn out?” Bill positively guffawed at that, Atticus looking pleased with himself.  

“You will not speak of a lady in such a manner.” James warned, although the amused look upon his face betrayed him somewhat.  

“She weren’t much of a lady earlier. I could hear her repeatedly screaming the word fuck right the way down at the shore!”  

“Enough.”

“Just think of it though, old lad, the smugness you’ll be able to feel next time you see Charles Simpson, knowing you’ve had your tired tongue right up his wife’s…”

“Enough.” He interrupted, but couldn’t help but laugh too, Atticus taking his face in his hands and kissing his forehead, slapping his back heartily, the three beginning to walk toward the cabins. Thinking on Atticus’s words, though, James knew he would take a certain amount of delight in recalling everything he had done with his wife, the next time he’d encounter Charles in the flesh.  

It would not be for a while, though, the news delivered to him that afternoon by Delilah that her husband was shortly to depart to Victoria on business, where he would be gone for a month. They had planned for him to visit in the night to Simpson mansion three night’s from then, once all of the house staff were asleep, Delilah meeting him at the French windows and pulling him inside.  

“You do not have to be quiet. I cast a charm, meaning that no one within the house will stir, nor hear a sound. I thought it best, since when I am with you, I seem to have quite the habit of making much noise,” she told him, taking him by the coat lapels and pulling him close, exchanging wanton kisses with him.  

“Perhaps for the best.” He replied, hands all over her. “For I do intend to make you howl the house down.” Lifting her over his shoulder, he gave her a few smacks on the bum, Delilah squealing with mirth as he carried her through the house, directing him to her bedroom. He placed her upon the bed, Delilah reaching for him after he had shed his boots, socks and coat, unfastening his belt and letting his trousers fall to his ankles. His rigid cock sprang free at once, and oh, how she loved that he did not wear undergarments. The faster she could reach male perfection, the better.  

“All I have been able to think of today has been this,” she began, grasping him, slowly running her tongue up the thick vein on the underside of his bulky shaft. “Having you within my mouth.” She enveloped him wholly, James closing his eyes tightly, a rumbling groan echoing through his chest. His hand skimmed through her tresses, curling at her neck, stroking her softly as he watched his cock disappear into her throat once more.  

Feeling him growing harder within her mouth had pleasure pooling within her, Delilah moaning softly around him, sending tingles throughout every inch of his cock, popping it free as she grasped the base, her tongue circling in twirls right over the tip. His hips juddered in response, his hand fisting in her hair and tugging lightly, his insides glowing with the ecstasy she evoked with her talents.  

He pulsed strongly in her throat, Delilah tightening her lips around him, squeezing and releasing the pressure all the way back up his shaft slowly, the noise he made in response all deep gravel, arrowing straight to her cunt. She added her hand to drag the length of him, following her mouth up and down, squeezing the base while her tongue ran back and forth over the head of him, making his hips buck against her deft grip.  

He felt himself starting to escalate rapidly, overwhelmed by the sparks she ignited within him. Quite simply, it was the best blowjob he’d ever received. She knew exactly how to harness a man’s pleasure.  His chest began to rise and fall faster, his arousal growing exponentially, his heart starting to beat more rapidly as his hands tangled in her hair. She sensed it, moving her mouth quicker upon him, chasing him to the finish he felt throbbing in heated waves through his groin, a guttural groan the precursor to him spilling into the back of her throat, her nails running down his back at the exact same time guaranteeing his release was even sweeter.  

He caught his breath, stroking her top lip as she looked up at him, slightly flushed, so beautiful his chest throbbed. “Get on your fucking back.”  

“Yes, sir.” she purred, watching him remove his shirt before his body covered hers, burying his mouth as the side of her neck.  

“For that, you shall be eaten alive, young lady.”

“You make it sound like such would be unwelcome.”

He smirked, tongue gliding over her tattoos. “It might be, for I plan to have my mouth around your cunt for so long over the course of the night, you will be begging me to stop.”

She wasn’t convinced that such a prospect would illicit that kind of response. Especially not after feeling him take that first, hungry suck at her. “So pretty.” He murmured, looking at her closely, thumbing the hood of her clit to make it stand out before beginning to flick his tongue over it in a slow beat. Her blissful gasp as he did so tore a shiver right through him, her hands coming to rest as the sides of his head, nails trailing over his shortly shaved hair.  

Sucking at her gently, he groaned happily, the taste of her like sharp honey against his tongue, letting her go with a little pop and a happy rumble of laughter. 

“What is amusing?” she asked.

“I think I had begun to forget just how much I enjoyed doing this. It’s been a while.”

“I can imagine you left the Portuguese whore extremely satisfied.”

He snorted a little, looking up at her. “Yes. She almost paid me.”

She couldn’t help but burst into laughter, trying to calm herself again but having no such luck, giggling away until the ministrations of his mouth made her mirth subside, evoking nothing but the softest, sweetest moans once more. Her back arched in response to him slipping two fingers into her heat, pushing firmly, trawling in and out of her soaking centre as his tongue circled at her bud.  

Kissing his way back up her body, she felt warmth coiling beneath her skin, moving so she was side on to him, her hands trawling his broad chest as his mouth reached her throat. The pleasure was biting and all-consuming, Delilah quaking against him as the heat fizzed right through to her bones, overcome by him and his substantial prowess.  

A gruff grunt poured from his mouth to hers as they kissed hungrily, her walls fluttering around his fingers, his cock sumptuously rigid against her stomach. Her hand moved to assist with that, squeezing his shaft, her thumb stroking the head, spreading seeping pre cum around.  

His hips tremored, his fingers digging inside her harder, her mouth at his neck, gently nipping at the broad column, James clasping her face to return her mouth to his before pausing to gaze at her. She was so beautiful to him. It made the moment exponentially more intimate, torridness rolling through them as they resumed those fiery kisses once more.  

The drag of his fingertips against her walls jolted her, his cock keen against her hand, seeping onto her hip as she pulled at his shaft deftly. Lowering his head, he gently bit at the stiffened peaks of her nipples, tongue swiping a line up her chest, over her neck and into her mouth again.  

He kissed her slow and dirty, a brief, rumbled moan vibrating through his throat, hardness twitching in her grasp. Pulling his fingers from her, she fluttered around the emptiness, guiding him to her entrance, her mouth falling agape when he pushed to fill her.  

Biting his lip, she felt herself yield to him, crying out softly at the glimmers evoked from such a delicious stretch around his girth. It made his insides throb, such a helpless little gasp, his lips crushing against hers, tongues swirling, her arms clasping around him tightly as he turned her onto her back. He moved within her skilfully, making pleasure streak up her spine, her legs bracketing his waist, squeezing hard.  

With his cock dragging sparks through her walls, his breathing heavy against her neck, her nails trawling red marks down his back to join the others she often inflicted upon him, their bodies rocked together sublimely in grinding, heated union, the air heavy with the sounds of their lust. It might only have been their third occasion together, but for Delilah, the intimacy between them was unmatched. She truly connected with him, more than physically.  

This was no more apparent than when he began to chant, words to add to the moment, evoking the energies between them, the eroticism growing, Delilah joining him as through the vodun, their arousal bloomed even more wildly. Using magic during sex was a first for her, and by the Loa, was it magmatic. That energy conjured, coursing through them, it did nothing but escalate.  

As he thrust into her with more intent behind his movements, she felt herself entwining with him, the magic of her spirit finding his, winding around it, like two ropes coiling around one another. She was vaguely aware of a storm beginning outside, the thunder rolling over the clouds as a low rumble, her bedroom flashing with blue light as rain pattered against the windows.

As the storm grew in ferocity outside, as did what they shared within, the bed creaking beneath them as they enjoyed one another with wild hunger, Delilah marvelling at his stamina. Jack had been quick as a typical overexcited teenager, and Charles only lasting for as long as it took for him to reach his bliss. She only ever orgasmed with him if she instigated such. With James, he would have her crying out the waves of her torrid release long before he reached his.

This was especially true whenever she was atop him, as she had moved to, the depth, the angle of his thick cock inside her had her screaming as she threw her head back, his teeth sharp at her nipple, fingers dug in at her back as he fucked up into her with sharp snaps of his hips, slowing in the aftermath, letting her roll against him slowly as she shook, seeking his lips again, all quivery and flushed.

Their bodies were blooming with incandescence, the hot velvet clutch of her cunt spasming around him as her crest ebbed away. That viscid clench made him tremble, Delilah watching his abs judder as she looked down at him, drinking him in, remembering just how perfect he looked beneath her. She had never seen a man more exquisitely attractive than James.

The sky flickered again as she leaned forward and kissed him, thunder booming as the storm gathered momentum, the pace of their union still slow and rolling, like a tempest, both still chanting in whispers to one another. She was liquid heaven around him, gently fluttering as she undulated against him, her nails trailing his chest over the thick, dark blocks of tattoos, making his skin break out into goosepimples among the scars, the reminders he carried with him of the past.

She seeped over him like a mist rolling through a valley, ensnaring his senses, so blinding that all he could see and feel was her, this moment, hands clasped to her back as his head dipped to suck her tits with a hungry grumble. He was tingling though each shiver, his muscles cording, heat sizzling up his spine as her slow roll entranced him, fucking him into the bed thoroughly.

He reached between them, thumb stretching to her clit and beginning to circle, watching her eyes further dilate, inky and lusty, her forehead resting to his as she panted and wailed.  

With Charles gone for a month, she planned to enjoy this with him as much as humanly possible. Not that her husband was on her mind at all, as her lover made her cum for the third time that night, not stopping until he’d made her see the heavens many more times, before they finally exhausted themselves into a deep sleep, the storm outside still strong in the night’s sky as they slept in one another’s arms.  

A/N - Now, here’s the really, really important part. Did you enjoy it? If so, please don’t just redundantly click that heart. Reblog it. Also, I love to engage with my readers, so a little comment would not go amiss either! Doesn’t have to be long, just reach out. I’m all about building community here and there is nothing more lovely than readers and writers supporting one another!

Absolute filth with Alfie? Yep. It’s here!

Words - 555

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.  

You guys, I’m still absolutely over the moon at the popularity this has garnered! Thank you so much! Also, because I just began writing chapter twelve so I’m nicely far ahead in the writing, I will be able to bring twice weekly updates for definite, going forward. Looking forward to your thoughts, as ever!

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 2,213

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. NO MINORS, PLEASE!

“My god, you are so aggressive! You’ve completely flown off the handle at nothing here!”

“No, I haven’t! I just called you out on something, exactly like I did before and you don’t like being in the wrong!”

“Tommy, calm down, Jesus!”

“Nah, I’m out. Fuck this. You’re insufferable.”  

A simple disagreement in their discussion and once again, things had become heated. Except this time, Tommy was not interested in Darla’s attempt to calm the situation. Oh no. He was done for the night.  

“For fucks sake!” she exclaimed, dropping her hands in her lap as he closed the door behind him. Things had actually been going quite well, until that point, until the tainted conversation had begun. They’d fallen into a discussion about the law after Darla mentioned that her university had excluded a young guy who repeatedly found himself in trouble with the police, his issues stemming from alcohol and substance abuse.  

She had hoped he could be rehabilitated, Tommy staunchly agreeing, saying that perhaps it would be prudent to offer such to more prisoners within the correctional system, in an effort that not so many people were thrown away year by year to rot. Darla had taken a slightly different approach, believing that repeat habitual offenders, especially those who time and time again failed to clean up their act were truly beyond the help a rehabilitation program could offer.  

It was then that Tommy had blown up at her, shouting that everyone deserved a second chance, but it was only in that minute as she sat alone, that she remembered. His father had been an alcoholic.

“Oh lord. Oh, shit!” she hissed, realising too late how her stance could have come off. He’d touched on the fact that he and his dad had still had a strained, terse relationship at the time of his death, Tommy trying to get him to dry out again after he’d fallen off the wagon, but to no avail. It had been alcohol poisoning to claim his life, something Tommy was likely still quite sensitive about.  

Sighing, she grabbed the two half full coffee cups and took them into the kitchen, washing them and placing them down on the drainer before finding a wine glass and removing the bottle from the fridge. “Okay, so I could have been a little softer, but he’s so hot tempered! He could have explained better instead of just losing it!” she suddenly fumed, honestly surprised at how much she gave a shit about him storming out. He was only a fuck, after all. If at all, now, as the case may have been.

She knew she’d go back and forth about this in her own mind until she drove herself crazy, so instead, decided on one of her favourite comedy shows on Prime and settled down with her wine. Pretty soon, it was like he’d never been there at all that night, apart from when she got up to go grab a pack of her favourite sweet plantain chips and saw his boxers poking out from beneath the couch.  

Picking them up, she threw them into the machine in the small utility room off the kitchen, putting her wash on and filling a bowl with the plantain chips before heading back out, thinking about Tommy all over again as she sat crunching through her first mouthful. She felt a mixture of sad, angry and embarrassed, and none of those emotions sat particularly well with her either. Meanwhile, across town, Tommy sat next to Meadow at her place, watching a movie that he found tame but she had proclaimed to be the scariest thing she’d ever seen, Heather microwaving popcorn.  

Whereas Darla felt sad and embarrassed as well as angry, Tommy was just angry, simmering away beneath the surface, incensed that a woman so progressive could be that narrow minded. It had truly ground his gears.  

“Why are you frowning?”

He honestly hadn’t been aware. “Am I?” Meadow nodded, all tucked up beside him under her blanket, Heather’s need to have the AC on so cold that it bordered on Alaska driving her beneath the swathe of soft fleece.  

“Yeah, you have your angry crease right here.” She stroked the patch between his eyebrows with her fingertip, where indeed he was sporting a frown line. “Why you mad?”  

“Nothing, just stuff.”

“I’m not convinced this is mere stuff,” she began, ceasing her chewing of the piece of red rope liquorice she held in her hand. “Someone upset you, you only frown like that when it’s personal.” Shit. She really did know him too well, being able to gauge what had hurt him by how it played across his face. Mildly irritated was a set jaw and a defiantly lifted chin, but whatever this was, he felt it right down to his marrow.  

“Yeah, they did.” As usual, he was being cagey, so Meadow didn’t prod him for once. She knew it was an exercise akin to poking a rattlesnake with a stick. When Heather sat down again, though, using his lap as a popcorn bowl holder, it took all of fifty seconds resumption of the movie before he suddenly blew up. “Fucking Darla!”

Bits of popcorn erupted from the bowl as Heather jumped out of her skin upon taking a handful, Meadow squeaking in surprise. Perhaps random outbursts of anger were not entirely appropriate when watching something that some people in the room found to be unnerving enough as it was, he realised about five seconds too late.  

Immediately, the TV was paused. “What did she do now?” Heather asked, propping her head against her hand as she turned to look at him, Tommy’s frown deepening more than the average gorge.  

“So, I go round there,” he began.

“For your booty call?” Meadow interjected with.

“Right, and afterwards we were just sitting talking, when she brings up something that lead to us discussing rehab for prisoners who have addiction issues. She’s a let ‘em rot type, and I told her for somebody so progressive, I saw that as a very narrow-minded stance to have. She maintained there was only so much you could do in helping habitual offenders with substance abuse issues, and that pissed me off because everyone deserves a second chance, right?”

Meadow and Heather both looked a little uncomfortable, cringing slightly. “Well, she’s kinda right, Tommy. Coming from someone who works within the penal system, I get guys coming through all the damn time who I know are going to fall straight back down and re-offend, and it isn’t through a lack of help. It’s through them truly not wanting to help themselves. It isn’t their second chances either, it’s like, their eighth or ninth, sometimes more.” Of course, with Heather being a probation officer, she was a wealth of information on the subject.

“Yeah, but come on. Those guys often didn’t have the best starts in life, did they? There’re so many social factors and troublesome homelives you have to work through, surely?” he put to her, Heather smiling through thin lips. She admired his nature there, to be so charitable and understanding, but felt it was a little naïve. The distinction was stark to her, between those who intended to get clean and do well against the hardest of odds stacked against them like he’d just mentioned, who sometimes still failed, and those who repeated the patterns again and again, no matter how much help they were offered.  

“Yeah, but when it’s guys in their fifties and sixties still repeating these patterns, you have to ask yourself if social factors truly do actually factor in to someone’s decision to keep on indulging in the behaviour that leads to them doing time. Surely just that alone didn’t leave you so pissed off that you’re still brewing over it now though, hmm?” Reaching out, she stroked the side of his face kindly, Tommy suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.  

“I kinda yelled at her. It brought up stuff about my dad,” he admitted, Meadow squeezing his arm.

“Your dad wasn’t in an out of prison like a yoyo while continuing to use, or out on the streets dealing poison to kids though, was he? He was an alcoholic who tried to clean up, managed it for a short while too, before he eventually and very sadly lost his fight. Yelling at Darla isn’t going to change what happened, especially when she wasn’t attacking your dad or his attempts at sobriety.”  

He sighed, realising that he’d perhaps overreacted a little. “Me and my damned temper.”

“Yes, you and your temper!” Meadow confirmed, poking him gently with her fingernail before taking another mouthful of popcorn. “No but really, Darla isn’t stupid. I’m sure she just saw that you were triggered by it and just lost your head a little. Sending her an apology text wouldn’t go amiss, perhaps?”

He grunted at her suggestion, but it was more of an agreeing grunt than one of petulance. “Yeah, I will. Anyway, you haven’t crapped your pants nearly enough yet. Back to the movie.”  

Meadow side eyed him, reaching over to the remote and pressing play, their evening resumed. He left as soon as it had finished, thanking them for their company before heading home, sending Darla an apology text on the short walk. He didn’t expect to get a reply with it being quite late, pulling out his airbed and inflating it a little more before flopping down, looking forward to getting the hole in the bedroom floor fixed the following week.  

The house was costing him a small fortune, but thankfully he had a good few grand in inheritance from the sale of his father’s home, Brendan insisting he take his share since the Sparta Tournament winnings had left him and Tess very comfortable. ’It’s time we both put the past to some good, Tommy’ he had said, handing him the cheque despite Tommy’s initial protests borne of pride.  

When he hadn’t received a reply to his message after a couple of days, those days stretching into a week and then two, he figured it was her problem if she still continued to harbour a grudge. He continued with life as normal, the renovations to his home taking his main focus around work and going out with his friends, until Darla became a distant memory.  

As for the lady herself, Tommy was at the forefront of her mind, something she attempted to distract herself from in the weeks following the last time she saw him, focusing on her work, pilates with Aimee and girl’s evenings with her and Chantelle, one of which she sorely needed after a particularly long, tough week.

Arriving at Aimee’s house, she was greeted on the front step, but not by either of her girlfriends.  

“Hello, little man!” she cooed warmly, her squirrel friend darting around excitedly before he ran up to her, awaiting his treats. She retrieved the small container of trail mix she’d packed especially for him in her bag, crouching down to offer him a small handful. “You are so cute, yes! I’m thinking I should give you a name, but what?”

“Hey! Stop feeding the pooper and get your ass back here!” Aimee called, the back gate opening to reveal her, looking unimpressed at Darla’s growing friendship with the small creature she still believed hated her.  

“I gotta go, tiny. You take care, though. Avoid cars and big dogs. Cats too!” giving him a little scratch on his back, she emptied out a little more of the trail mix onto the path for him, placing the container back into her bag before joining her friends, greeting Aimee with a kiss, Chantelle too as she exited the kitchen with a large bowl of chips and a charcuterie board, a little section of vegan treats walled off by a bunch of grapes especially for her.  

“I had a taste of that vegan brie just now, it’s actually quite good!” she enthused as Darla sat down, nodding enthusiastically.

“It really is! Once you get past the fact it smells like feet, but then again, I think regular brie smells much the same,” she observed, Chantelle crinkling her nose.

“And now I don’t want it any more. My belly thanks you for this!” she laughed, shielding her eyes from the still very bright early evening sun. “Babe, you look tired. Everything okay?”

No, everything was not okay, as she knew her girls would pick up on. “I haven’t been sleeping well of late.” Her confession was met with sympathetic faces, Aimee, pouring out the wine, Darla quick to cover her glass with her hand, shaking her head.  

“No, none for me, guys. It ties in with why I haven’t slept all too well in the last ten days.”

Aimee and Chantelle looked between each other curiously, the former setting the bottle down and reaching to rest her hand on Darla’s shoulder as she witnessed her looked more pained by the second.  

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

Taking a breath, Darla knew it would become real the moment she spoke it to another soul, and she wasn’t ready for it, but if there was anyone she could confide in, it was the women sitting at the table with her.  

“I’m pregnant.”

A/N - Now, here’s the really, really important part. Did you enjoy it? If so, please don’t just redundantly click that heart. Reblog it. Also, I love to engage with my readers, so a little comment would not go amiss either! Doesn’t have to be long, just reach out. I’m all about building community here and there is nothing more lovely than readers and writers supporting one another!

Precipice

Pairing:Alfie Solomons x baker!OC (Annie Murphy)

Summary: With the weight of unspoken truth dragging him down and after gaining some encouragement from an unlikely source, Alfie finally tells Annie he’s in love with her.

Loosely inspired by: “What’s worse, telling you my feelings or to die without revealing that you crawled inside my head and set a fire there instead? Letting all my insecurity devour me with certainty.” - Halsey, Ya'aburnee

Word count: 5,000

A/N: My first in a series of misc. pieces about these QTs! Basically a 3-chapter one shot but I haven’t written on here in literally years so it’s how we rollin’.

–

Alfie Solomons was not a man who held his tongue, and each syllable he spoke was accented with deliberate cause. He liked that his rivals expected more out of him from just violence, that any battle with him would inevitably be a battle of wits. He relished the way his words shifted the very air in the room, wielding just as much, if not, more, power than his threat of his bullets and fists.

Bearing this in mind, it surprised him greatly, then, when he found he couldn’t manage to choke out three specific, simple words to Annie. Any time he came close to it, fear clawed at his guts, and he held back, cursing at himself in frustration every time.

“A spineless fuckin’ cunt you are, mate. How many men have you cut, killed, murdered, tortured, fuckin’ butchered, yeah? And yet, here you are, afraid that the shriveled remains of your blackened heart will break if you tell this woman the truth. Because how the fuck could she ever love someone like you, back, hm?”

The war inside him raged on for months and months, and now, with Callum gone, he found he was yelling at himself more and more to tell Annie every day—but still didn’t do it. But the longer he kept his mouth shut, the worse he felt, an increasingly unbearable weight pressing against his rib cage.

So, Alfie Solomons did what any lovesick Jewish boy at the end of his rope would do: he decided to talk to his mother.

Alfie sighed and settled himself in the cozy armchair in the corner of his study, lighting his pipe. He inhaled and turned his attention to the side table, looking out at a small black and white portrait nestled right beside his Tanakh.

“Привет, мама. Desperately need some help, I do.”

Alfie fiddled with his pipe as he leaned his head back on the chair, blue eyes still intently fixed on the picture of his deceased mom. “I bet you and your angel friends have been havin’ a right fuckin’ laugh, watchin’ me agonize over this Irish Gypsy woman. Man plans and God laughs, innit?”

In the flickering light of his pipe, he swears the portrait of his mother smiles at him. The corner of his mouth turned and he sat for a moment, lost in his thoughts and the smoke. When he spoke again, he was quieter, more subdued – but his sincerity was just as pronounced.

“But I know it’s real and that’s what matters, yeah. And I know that’s what you’d be telling me, to listen to this thing in my chest here.”

Alfie paused, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

“That bein’ said, I am still properly conflicted on if tellin’ her is the right thing. If I do and she doesn’t feel the same, which is most likely, on account of me bein’ me, yeah it’ll all go to shit. I won’t ever see her or that beautiful fuckin’ face anymore, hear that laugh. Get to make her laugh.“

His voice went even quieter, speaking more to himself in earnest. "But there’re times I see her and she just gives me thislook, and I can’t fuckin’ read it but I can feel it, something there between me and her. And I keep comin’ back for it. If there’s even a chance …”

His brow furrowed, ring-clad fingers roaming through his beard.

“Look, I know I am destined to glide right to the front of the queue for the fiery pit of the damned, but I’m sure you’ve got some powerful holy mates up there. Ones who would let ya send some kind of sign down to your kid, tellin’ me what I should do about Annie.”

He gestured vaguely, and the sound of his bracelets clinking together echoed around the vast room.

“Things of love and goodness and all that are more your domain than mine, yeah, so I am asking you to take the reins here.”

He sat in silence for a few moments, a slight smile on his face as he nodded toward the picture.

“I think you and her would’ve got on well, yeah. Right. Спасибо, мама.”

Alfie extinguished the pipe, groaning slightly as he stretched up and walked down the hall to his bedroom. It’s quiet except for Cyril’s snores in the corner. He laid down with his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about how he’d feel if Annie was next to him.

–

After a night of uneasy sleep, Alfie was in no mood for anyone’s shit at work. Ollie immediately sensed it and gave him a wide berth, placing a solid five feet of distance between them as he gently dropped some papers on Alfie’s desk–something to do with the latest of Tommy’s schemes.

Alfie grunted and went to wave him away, but stopped when Ollie stammered out:

"And there’s a woman here to see you, Mr. Solomons. It’s not Annie.”

Alfie dragged his hands down his face, resisting the urge to smack the younger man.

“I fuckin’ knew that, didn’t I, ya silly boy, since you would’ve otherwise just told me An was here.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to fuckin’ apologize, mate, just try to use even a fraction of the brain ya got for a change.”

Ollie stood frozen until Alfie finally lost patience and smacked his hands on the desk, causing Ollie to jump.

“Well, go on then, send the mysterious lady in!”

Ollie nodded and scurried out the door as Alfie sighed, muttering under his breath as he took a sip of the Earl Grey on his desk.

“Fuckin too much to ask for a shred of intelligence these days, innit.”

He heard the sounds of heels clicking down the hall and his attention shifted, curiosity stirring inside him. And then he saw Annie’s older sister come through the door, and his curiosity was quickly replaced with dread.

“Fuckin’ hell, what does this ghastly woman want?”

Mutual dislike read plainly on both their faces, but Alfie adopted a cheerful tone anyways, raising his tea cup in a mock salute.

"Mags! You must be lost, sweetheart, payin’ us savages on this side of town a visit, eh?”

Mags shook her head, her cherry-red lips in a thin line as she surveyed the cluttered room with distaste.

“I’m not lost, Alfie.”

Alfie leaned back in his chair, bouncing slightly as he kicked his feet up on the desk.

“Hm. Well good, that’s good. Then I don’t feel bad tellin’ ya that I am, despite your many comments around the subject, a businessman, Mags. And a fuckin’ busy one at that. With very important things to do.”

To drive home his point, he grabbed the stack of papers off his desk and dropped them back down. He grinned as Mags clenched her jaw, clearly doing her best to hold back some smart remark.

“So tell us why you’re here or kindly get out of me office, yeah?”

Mags turned her gaze on him and when she spoke, she took the normally unflappable King of Camden Town by surprise:

"I need to talk to you about Annie.”

Alfie dropped his feet off the desk as his stomach dropped. His cocky demeanor was gone, immediately replaced with anxiety.

“What’s wrong, is she alright?”

Something in Mags’ cold glare lessened, and she sat down as Alfie stared back, unnerved.

“She’s fine,” she replied calmly. She fished around her purse and pulled out a cigarette container and match, offering the case toward Alfie, who shook his head. If Annie was alright, then what in the whole wide world of fuck was Mags here to talk about?

“Suit yourself.” Mags lit up, taking a grateful drag between her manicured nails. She sighed, pointing the cigarette toward him.

“I’m here because someone apparently needs to talk some sense into you. So,” she paused, exhaling a deliberate stream of smoke toward his face and grinning as his fist closed on reflex.

“Play nice, mate. She’s holdin’ the cards right now.”

Alfie grabbed his tea, doing his best to appear disinterested, even though he was dying to know what she wanted to say about Annie.

“I would like to know when you are planning to tell my sister that you’re in love with her.”

Alfie choked, his careful composure gone in an instant.

"Fuckin. Hell. The sign. MUM SENT A FUCKIN’ SIGN.”

He continued to cough as he reached for his handkerchief, very aware of Mags’ eyes trained on him. He took a deep breath, rearranging his features into one of (mostly) polite confusion.

“You what?”

Mags rolled her eyes.

“My sister. Annie.” She held up her hand. “About yay high, lovely green eyes, runs a little cafe across town.” She stared at Alfie and repeated, “When are you going to tell her you are in love with her?”

Alfie leaned back and interlaced his ringed fingers, his brain whirring. Had he really been that obvious?

“You are always hangin’ round Annie like a lost dog, mate, someone was bound to notice.”

Still, Mags loathed him. Had made that perfectly clear on any occasion they’d run into each other at Annie’s cafe. And while he could normally decipher anyone’s motives, he couldn’t piece together why the hell she’d be asking. So, he took his best guess.

“You tryin’ to prevent that from happenin,’ Mags?“

“On the contrary, Alfie.”

For the second time that day, Alfie was dumbfounded. It must’ve read clearly on his face, too, because Mags laughed.

"Surprised? That makes two of us.” She took another puff of her cigarette before ashing it in the tray on his desk.

“Look, I may not like you, Alfie, but I love my sister.” She leaned forward slightly, and Alfie was further shocked to see the ghost of a smile on her normally serious countenance.

“I’ve seen the way you look at Annie, how you just melt around her. Like she’s your own little piece of heaven.” She paused, seemingly waiting for an objection, and continuing when Alfie didn’t raise one, reeling internally from this unforeseen turn of events.

“I know you’d do anything to take care of her and make her happy. And she didn’t deserve to bury her husband, what she deserves is to be with a man who loves her just as much as Cal did. And as much at it physically pains me to say this, Alfie, I know that’s you.”

Her smile grew more pronounced as Alfie just sat there, rendered speechless for one of the few times in his life.

“My guess is that you didn’t want to tell her while she was married, and I have to give it to you, that was surprisingly honorable.”

Mag’s tone turns more businesslike, more like the Mags he’s come to expect.

“But Cal’s been gone for nearly 4 months now, and all the Irish mothers have started sending in their young, handsome sons now that she took her ring off. If you want to be with her, it’s now or never.”

She shook her finger toward him. “And don’t even try denying it, her entire kitchen has a betting pool going on about when you’ll finally ask her out.”

Well, she had him. Alfie drummed his fingers on the desk, weighing over his options. And he decided his best one was honesty.

“You don’t hear me contradicting you, do ya?” Alfie ran his hands through his hair. “But Mags, it is fuckin’ fanciful that she’d want to be with a bastard like me, innit. You and I both know that An is so far out of my realm, she should be,” he waved his hands toward the door, “in fuckin’ Wales, right.”

“True.”

Alfie threw his hands up.

“So what the fuck are you doin’ here tellin’ me to go after her?”

Mags shook her head, looking at him with something akin to pity.

“You really are daft. Do you think I’d be here in this shithole if she didn’t feel the same way about you that you feel about her?”

“Fuckkkkkkkkkin hell.”

If Alfie’s pulse wasn’t racing before, it sure was now. He wouldn’t put it past Mags to lie about this, but the way she spoke before … Alfie was good at reading people, and he knew she was sincere. But he needed more.

"Well, every man, he craves certainty, Mags, yeah,” he said slowly, hoping she’d give him enough to stop the doubts that had assailed him for months.

"Well, I am certain that my sister is in love with you.” Her tone softened again. “Tell her how you feel, and she’s yours.”

It would have to do. Alfie nodded, a grin breaking out across his face.

"You are actually not tryin to completely fuck me on this? Genuinely.”

Mags sighed.

“No, Alfie, I am not trying to fuck you on this. I’m looking out for my sister and her happiness.” She shrugged. “Even if it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Huh. Well then, I will end this little chat of ours to pick up the pieces of brain that just blew out the back of me skull.” Alfie mimed his head exploding as Mags rolled her eyes.

"Always a pleasure.” She stood up, snapping her bag shut and shifting it onto her shoulder. “Now, you go on over there today so I can stop seeing you two dancing around your emotions like bloody teenagers. And don’t breathe a WORD of this interaction to her. She doesn’t need to know I had to intervene to get you to grow some balls.”

She turned to leave and was almost out the door when Alfie called her.

“Mags.”

She turned around and he raised his cup to her again, this time with sincerity.

“Thank you.”

She smiled back.

“Good luck, Alfie.”

He waited until he heard the echo of her heels fade before he stood up, pacing. He clapped the heels of his hands together, his bracelets jingling.

“Now or fuckin’ never, innit?”

He took a long exhale, chuckling to himself as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Always were direct, weren’t ya, mum?”

He grabbed his coat and hat from the corner and tipped it on before roaring out the door:

“OLLIE!”

He heard a door slam open and hurried footsteps along the corridor, Ollie peeking his head into the office like he was expecting a grenade to be tossed back at him.

“What do you need?”

“Relax, son,” Alfie clapped him on the shoulder, smiling at Ollie’s look of bemusement. “We’re just goin’ to Annie’s.”

And with that, he took another deep breath and the pair of them exited his office.

–

Alfie knew Annie would be closing up soon, which he was counting on to get some uninterrupted time to talk to her. It could be difficult to get her full concentration sometimes — she was always moving, always chatting, always daydreaming about something. And while he normally loved watching her whirl around, today, he couldn’t risk her missing a word he said.

Fortunately, the place was empty when he came in, except for Lily cleaning off tables.

She looked up as the doorbell jingled and smiled, continuing to wipe the tables down.

“She’s in the back.”

“Thanks, Lil.”

Heart pounding in his chest, he walked the familiar path back to the kitchen, letting his fingers hover for a moment on the swinging wooden door before he walked through.

And there she was. Her back was to him but he could picture the look of concentration on her face, biting the corner of her lip just slightly as she piped neat lines of frosting on a tray of pastries in front of her. As usual, her sleeves were rolled up, her dark hair twisted in a French braid over one shoulder. She hummed to herself, absorbed in her work, pausing only briefly as she turned at the sound of Alfie’s footsteps.

And there it was, that smile and that glow in her eyes that had Alfie hopelessly, relentlessly smitten.

“Hey, you.” She turned back to the tray, placing the last finishing touches. She set the piping bag down and wiped her hands on the front of her apron, motioning for Alfie to follow her.

And he would. Anywhere at all, to the ends of the earth to hell and back.

“This is perfect timing, I was gonna call tomorrow and tell you I needed my favorite authenticity judge to come down here.”

His heart swelled at the word favorite. She said he was her favorite. Fuck, he really was a goner.

“That so?” Alfie grinned, watching her cut off a piece of what looked like a freshly baked blintze, the inside teeming with bright berries “You playin’ round with more Jewish recipes?”

“Mhm.”

“Honestly, love, you might as well convert. I can just imagine the look of horror on the bubbes’ faces of being outbaked by a former Gentile.”

Annie laughed and Alfie melted, exactly as Mags described.

“How ‘bout I don’t ruin their lives, hm?” She placed the dessert on a plate and as she reached past Alfie for a fork, she brushed against him, the light contact setting his nerve endings on fire.

“Now shush and taste.” He nodded and took a bite, eyes closing as his taste buds took in the tart berries, the sweet cream, the familiar doughy but not too doughy roll.

“It’s good, yeah?,” Annie asked happily.

“Really fuckin’ good.” He pointed his fork at her. “A culinary magician you are, Annie Murphy.”

She beamed and took a mock bow.

“Thank you, thank you. So, what’s up?”

Alfie paused and took another bite of the blintze before he replied, doing his best to appear casual, even though he swore Annie could probably hear how loud his heart was beating.

“Just wanted to see if you had a minute to chat.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Just me and you.”

“Yeah, ‘course. Is everything ok?”

Alfie could’ve died at the concern in her voice, her desire to make sure he, this mad lone shepherd who had led 35 lambs to slaughter, was safe.

“Yeah, ‘m fine, love.”

Annie nodded, her look of concern turning to one of slight confusion. She hoisted herself onto the counter, legs swinging slightly.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare back out now, mate.”

Alfie took a deep breath and started to speak, his tone much gentler than usual.

“Right. You probably don’t remember much ‘bout the day we met, ‘sides my storming’ in here wantin to kno-

“Know,” Annie cut him off and cleared her throat dramatically before giving a spot-on impression of him, “why the fuck a Jewish woman was working at an Irish fuckin bakery on this side of Camden?!” She grinned. “And then when you realized it was an Irish-Gypsy woman, how an Irish-Gypsy woman learned to make such proper 'fuckin’ challah.’ Hard to forget that, yeah?”

He chuckled, his nervous hands roaming to the chain on his vest as his tone softened.

“Right. But you know what stayed in my head the most? How you didn’t even flinch, ya just stood there and gave me that, that, smile right there, yeah. Too beautiful for words. Said if someone could braid hair, they could braid bread. You made this grumpy ol’ bastard laugh, and you kept doin’ it. So I came back. Kept comin’ back.”

He stopped and drank her in for a moment, this woman that stole his heart when he didn’t think it could be done. The way the stray, dark wisps of hair that escaped from her braid framed her face. How her apron hung tight against her hips. The exposed skin near her collarbones where her soft shirt tugged to the side. The lone streak of flour on her cheek. And of course, those stunning, jade-green eyes that were currently locked onto his, making him forget how to breathe.

“Fuck, she is a dream.”

Alfie’s tore his gaze away from Annie’s and started to pace, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“And then I said to myself, “Alfie, what is this peculiar sensation you are now experiencing?” Like there was some type of drumming goin’ on,” he tapped his temple and chest, “right here and here. And I just thought, ‘Well, we all know you’re touched in the head, so it’s probably just another symptom of our inescapable and utter madness.’ Left it at that.”

“But then I discovered something most interesting over the next few months: that this thing, this feeling, right here, yeah, only happened whenever I saw you. A type of madness reserved solely for the inimitable Annie Murphy. So what could possibly be a diagnosis for something like that, eh?”

“Alfie.” Her voice was quiet, but he pressed on over the interjection. Now that his thoughts were finally tumbling out in earnest, he couldn’t stop them.

“I’m almost finished, love. Right, yeah, so once I realized that it only happened ‘round you, Miss Annie, I knew I was fuckin’ done for.” He laughed, his hand going to the back of his neck. Said, “Alfie, mate, you realize this feelin’ you are carryin’ for this exquisite creature, who is very happily married, mind you, is not going anywhere, it is now an eternal fixture permeating your entire being.

This was it. He paused, feeling his heart reverberating through his bones, and when he dared to look up, Annie was staring right back with a lookthattold him to keep going.

He stopped pacing and looked at her head on.

“What I am tryin’ to fuckin’ say is that whatever remains of this thing in my chest, yeah, it belongs to you. Because I have been in love with you for a very long time, An. Now, you do whatever you fancy with that bit of knowledge, right, but I just needed to finally say it. Out loud. To you.”

One second, two seconds, three seconds, pass and feel like an eternity of silence that Alfie physically can’t take, so he rambled on.

“The alternative of continuing to keep me mouth shut would mean I would have to shoot my balls off because I wouldn’t deserve to keep them. Especially if I ended up seein’ you with one of those fuckin’ handsome little Irish lads who’ve sprung up here like daisies since you took your ring off. So, yeah.” He rocked back and forth on his heels, desperate for some way to shake out how exposed, how vulnerable he felt. “That is that.”

Dread, brutal and blinding, was now coursing through him. Fuck, did she try to cut him off before to stop him from looking like a complete idiot? Her silence spoke volumes to him, this was clearly a colossal fucking misjudgment on his end. What the fuck had he expected, what did he deserve?

“Yeah, time to go, you daft fuckin’ cunt.”

“Right, I will take your silence as you bein’ too sweet to tell me to fuck off, so, I’ll get out of your hair then.”

Annie immediately jolted out of her reverie.

“No, no, no! Don’t go.” She slid herself off the counter, and Alfie was convinced he was going to have a heart attack from this continuing vacillation between fear and hope.

She smiled. “Sorry, I was just … processing. And I still have a hard time knowin’ when you’re done monologuing.”

Then, she was there by him in an instant, close enough for her to wind her hands in his. His eyes met hers with an unspoken plea, practically begging for validation, and he didn’t even care. Because he needed to hear her say it, would burn the world to ashes if it meant he could hear it.

And he did.

“Alfie, I love you too.” His fear finally fell away and he had to remember that he wasn’t dead and this was real — nothing would ever feel this good, this pure, in the afterlife he was destined for.

She was so, so close to him, and he just breathed her in like a drug, warm bread and sugar and something like wildflowers, unmistakably Annie. HisAnnie.

She loved him.

She smiled, a playful note at the edge of her murmur, echoing his own words back to him:

“Do whatever you’d like with that bit of knowledge.”

Pulse alight for all the best reasons, Alfie dropped her hands so he could cradle her face.

“Right, then.”

They crashed into each other, the months of tension palatable in every frantic and tender touch. His lips against hers and the feel of her grin from the soft moan he made when her hands knotted in his hair, tongue sliding past his teeth. He grabbed her hips and it was his turn to smirk at the pretty little gasp she made against him before kissing him even harder. Fuck, this was it, he was in a categorically underserved heaven on Earth.

Until Lily walked through the door.

“Annie, that nut Mrs. McGinnity is out front wantin’ to change her son’s cake again, do you want me to- oh shit, I am SO sorry!”

Annie reluctantly pulled away at the interruption and as Alfie rested his forehead on hers, he was pleased to see her breathing was as labored as his.

“It’s fine, Lil, I’ll be out in a few, yeah?”

“Course!” The door of the kitchen smacked shut, and the two of them dissolved into laughter at getting caught making out like a couple of kids.

“Fuckin’ hell, love.” Alfie traced Annie’s jaw with his thumb and she caught his hand, her eyes trained on his as she brushed her lips over his tattoo, sending goosebumps across his flesh. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wantin’ to do that.”

“Well, it’s a relief on my end too.” She pressed her lips back to his again, more gently this time. “I’ve been going fuckin’ mad over here, keepin’ this from you.”

Alfie nodded, still floating in the surreal, dizzy state that seemed suspiciously like happiness.

“Yeah, I know what that’s like, don’t I.”

But then, he noticed Annie’s gaze shift and his heart sank, because those startlingly green eyes were now brimming with tears.

“Hey, hey, An, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really nothing,” she laughed and simultaneously made a noise of frustration, placing the heels of her hand against her eyes and bringing them down again. “I just. I know I’ve been all over the place since Cal died. And uh, it felt like things would never get better, but they have been. And you had a lot to do with that.”

The corner of her mouth lifted at the same time a solitary tear rolled down her cheek, which Alfie stroked away.

“I’m just really happy you wandered into my life, yellin’ your head off about bread.”

“Fuck, Annie, c’mere.”

He pulled her into his arms and she immediately burrowed into his chest, and they stayed like that for a few moments, tangled in each other’s warmth. He pressed his lips to her hair and felt her sigh in contentment, drawing a smile out of him.

“Well I’m glad you’re happy because you’re stuck with me now, ain’t ya?”

“I’m not complainin,” she replied, her voice muffled slightly against his shirt. He pulled back and gently lifted her onto the counter, relieved to see her smiling again.

“There she is.” His tone resumed its normal confidence and he grabbed Annie’s hands in his. “Right, now that we have settled this whole exchange of mutual feelings, yeah. I am takin’ you on a proper fuckin’ date. Wherever you want.”

“Oooh.” Annie drummed her fingers against her lips, thinking. “Let’s do Wilton’s. But fair warning, I’m planning to nick their toffee pudding recipe. Do you know how many people come in here askin’ if I make it like them?” Her eyes widened and she shook her head with a giggle, simply the most adorable thing Alfie had ever set his eyes on. “I’ve just been sayin “yeah,” but I haven’t the foggiest. It’s gonna ruin my street cred.”

“Nah, can’t have that, can we.” He swung her hands lightly. “You want to investigate tonight, then?”

“I can’t. I’m babysittin’ Mags’ kids.” Alfie grimaced and Annie smacked his shoulder lightly. “Come off it, you saw them on one bad day. But I’m free tomorrow.”

“Right, I’ll come get ya ‘round 7.”

“Sounds good,” Annie replied. She wrapped her hands around his neck as she pulled him in for another kiss, only stopping when the sound of rising female voices drifted in from the front of the cafe.

Annie sighed. “I gotta go take care of that.”

Alfie pulled out his watch, matching Annie’s reluctance.

“Yeah, I gotta head off and meet Tommy.” It was the last thing he wanted to do, to step away from the thrill of her touch, her adoration, this temporary respite from the jagged edges of his life. He hadn’t even left, and yet he couldn’t wait to get back to her again.

He grabbed her hand and kissed it, savoring the way her eyes lit up in response.

“See you tomorrow, then, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Like any addict desperate for one last fix, he kissed her hungrily, letting her hands trace over his beard and the scarred flesh before he forced himself back, hands clasped against her shoulders.

“Fuck, I cannot get enough of you.” He moved toward the door. “Right, I’m leaving, actually leaving.”

He had one hand on the wooden fixture when Annie called out:

“Alfie.”

And he whipped around so fast he nearly fell over, catching himself on the edge of the wall as Annie tried and failed to hide a massive grin behind her hand.

“Yeah, pet?”

“I love you.”

And he knew in a thousand years or a thousand lifetimes, he would never get tired of hearing her say that, or saying it to her.

“Love you too, An.”

He walked through the doorway and practically skipped his way through the rest of the cafe, still humming as he breezed past an agitated Lily and the even more agitated Mrs. McGinnity.

He strode out into the sunlit street, smirking slightly as he saw Ollie immediately stand up straighter from where he was half-slumped against the car. And before Ollie could even open his mouth, Alfie walked straight up to him and kissed him on the head without a word.

He got into the driver’s seat and rested his head against the steering wheel, a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration coursing through his veins as snippets of his conversation with Annie bounced around his head.

He had done it. He had finally told her.

“I love you too, Alfie.”

He heard the passenger door open gingerly and Ollie slid in, and he could practically feel the apprehension radiating off him.

“Are you feeling ok, Mr. Solomons?”

Alfie sat straight up and Ollie started as he clapped him on the shoulder, putting the car in drive.

“Course I am, dear boy. Just a beautiful fuckin’ day, innit? Just lovely, simply lovely.”

Alfie grinned, one hand on the wheel and the other clutching the star pendant that dangled from his neck. Knowing Ollie wouldn’t hear him over the roar of the engine coming to life, he took a second to whisper two much-needed words of gratitude.

“Thanks, mum.”

A/N:This is sort of a follow up to Take me, thanks to a suggestion made by @jamesbuchananbarnesslut​.

Tom’s P.O.V.

The soft but startling feeling of sunlight on my face woke me up from a deep slumber. I did not remember falling asleep, but considering the night’s activities, that wasn’t all that surprising.

I could still barely believe what had happened. After years of dreaming about it, I finally had my best friend naked in bed, writhing with pleasure underneath me. It was everything I’d always hoped for, and the fact that she’d allowed me to enact every single one of my wildest fantasies only made me grow harder as I realized morning woods had a completely different meaning when I knew she was right next to me.

Except…

I couldn’t turn around to check on her, and when I opened my eyes, I realized it was because all of my limbs had been expertly tied with what looked like my shirts, to each and every corner of my bed.

The immediate panic had me surging against the binds, but just as I tried to move, my body was pulled back against the mattress again. I was about to start screaming for Y/N when the door of my room was opened and in she came, glancing at me like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“What is this?” I asked, trying to sound angry but obviously just coming across as amused, which was my actual emotion. She simply giggled, slowly climbing onto the bed and walking on her hands and knees towards my body, wearing nothing but my shirt.

The sight had me licking my lips as I watched the way the sunlight danced over her skin. God, I wanted to lick it all over again.

“Untie me,” I urged, eyes still focused on the space between her legs that the edge of the shirt kept hidden from me. “I’m still not done with you, darling.”

The smirk she gave me was chill-inducing, but in the best possible way. I could already feel my toes curling from the warmth of her thighs as she climbed further up, until she was hovering just over my head.

“You’ve had your fun yesterday, Tommy,” she whispered, caressing my jaw with soft hands. “Now it’s my turn.” I was about to point out that she seemed to have had the time of her life yesterday, but before I could, her lips were on mine, controlling the kiss and taking my breath away.

“And I won’t let you leave until I’ve had my fill.” I expected her to lower her perfect little pussy on my face after such a warning, but instead, she made me look her in the eye, still cradling my face, as she asked, “Do you trust me?”

It was the same question I’d asked her the night before, when I refused to even touch her until I heard the confirmation fall from her lips. The reminder made me smile, and there was no doubt in my mind as to what my answer would be.

“Blindly.”

She captured my lips with hers once more, sealing my heavenly fate. I couldn’t wait to be but an instrument for her pleasure.

And she started by riding my face.

The sweetness I’d grown accustomed to the night before was still as overwhelmingly delicious. Despite the uncomfortable feeling of being stuck to one specific position, I settled down to enjoy the taste and the view of her tits bouncing freely underneath the shirt she wore, making my cock twitch in need.

I still hadn’t had the pleasure of feeling her tight cunt embrace me, but the longer I spent with her nude body, the more desperate I became.

However, that experience we shared after a couple of beers hadn’t been about me. It was about showing her the pleasure that she deserved, the pleasure I could give to her, should she allow me to.

Thankfully, it seemed like my goal had been achieved, and she was now willing to give a relationship with me a try. Or at least, I hoped this was what she was saying with the rhythmic way she kept rubbing her cunt against my face, slathering her wetness all over my chin. And I was here for the road.

She had tempted me for so long. But now, she was finally mine. I wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t let her pretend this was strictly sexual when I had so many feelings for the woman on top of me. She grabbed my hair to help her movements as they grew frantic, and we moaned in unison, me at the slight pain at my scalp and her as she rode down the orgasm she took from me.