Hello To One Of My Favourite Alfie Fic Writers! Since You're Taking Requests, I'd Like To Make One As

Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days. 

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic. 

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies. 

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie. 

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant: 

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly. 

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy. 

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in. 

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”

hiiii! I’ve been in such a funk since I lost my wips 🥲 but it feels good to be writing again! Thank you all for 700 followers 🥹🫶🏾 it’s crazy cause I was just celebrating 500! 

Also, I’m obsessed with this tiny font :)

Warnings: smut, dilf bakugo, milf reader, afab reader, black coded! reader, mutual pining, baby mentioned, breast feeding mentioned, unprotected sex, creampie, lactation kink, pet name usage (ex. baby, mama, papa), excuse any mistakes, MDNI!

Word count: undetermined

❀

Babydaddy!Bakugo who's stopping by to pick up his son Katsumi from your place. He scans the vicinity, still as quiet as usual but he does notice someone’s finally moved into the townhouse adjacent to yours. 

He’s not sure if it’s a man or woman, and he’s not comfortable with it, especially since it’s just you and ‘Sumi here. He made a note to get someone at the agency to check them out.

He’s standing there for about a minute until you’re opening up the door with the baby attached to your tit in a tight fitting sun dress, just begging him to run his hands all over you. He’s undressing you with his eyes, not that the dress leaves anything to imagine anyway.

“Come on so you don’t let any flies in. He was fussing real bad so l'm feeding him, I'll be done in a second."

He just nods, it's all he can do as he stares, mesmerized. He doesn’t mind anyway, he isn’t in any kind of rush.

It never gets old—seeing you be a mommy. Seeing you care for the beautiful being the two of you created. Makes him fall in love with you all over again. It’s also a bonus being able to call you a milf.

He hands you a vanilla parfait from the cafe he gets his coffee from, remembers you used to love them before ‘Sumi, hopes you still do.

“Thank you.”

You didn’t have much of an appetite, taste testing your different dishes in the midst of preparing Sunday dinner has you a little full so you opt for picking the fruit off your parfait.

“No problem, you’re running a dairy farm over here, gotta keep ya fed.” “Are you calling me a cow?” 

“I’m not wrong.” 

Your kid has one breast occupied, the other is stuffed in the electric pump. You’re not sure if you’ve gotten used to being ‘milked’ as Katsuki usually calls it, but it certainly feels better than letting the milk swell inside. 

It’s safe to say you got this parenting thing down fairly quickly, or at least it seemed like you did. Time moved fast, your baby nearing six months already. He doesn't see much of you anymore, just those days when it's time for him to get the little brat or drop him back off.

He's not sure how things got the way they were—seems like just yesterday you were about to be his wife and now, things were just complicated. The two of you were high school sweethearts, first everything’s, now well into your late twenties with a baby. There was no infidelity involved in the split, just a matter of you two not seeing eye to eye, butting heads far too often for comfort. He admits it’s his fault, but he truly meant no harm, just wanted to protect his family.

But, he still loves the hell out of you. Hopes you still love him too. And even if you don't, he'll still love you. You gave him his child, after all.

That little boy is his pride and joy. He's the cutest thing he's ever laid eyes on, a chunky little nugget with rolls everywhere and now he has a double chin. Obviously didn’t miss any meals.

Katsumi's the perfect mix of the two of you. His complexion has settled as the months passed by, darkening to a deep golden tan, a head full of thick curly hair and of course his daddy's angry red eyes and ever present scowl. He looks like a mean little shit just like his daddy did at his age, except he's literally the sweetest baby, always ready to show those two little teeth in a big smile.

He can't believe he helped create something so precious and most of all he can't believe he created him with you.

“You haven't been sleeping much lately, I can tell." 

Time apart didn’t change much, you still knew him like the back of your hand and vice

Babydaddy!Bakugo finds himself seated in one of your bar stools, looking around at your home. 

It looks like you’re almost done decorating, and you actually did get that dumb couch you’d been raving about. He takes in the shades of green and cream, the earthy tones accented in,  the plants, fluorescent lighting, it’s all so you.

He loves it. Wishes he lived in it with you. Fuck he missed you so bad.

"Schedule change. I work a week on-week off now." Truth is, he hasn’t had a good rest since you left, on top of his new crazy ass schedule he’d be lucky if he got three consecutive hours of sleep a night. And some nights when he had ‘Sumi, he had to forgo sleep completely. 

“Damn, that’s a lot. It’s not too much for you? What if you’re too tired for ‘Sumi, he’s rolling over and shit now so you really gotta watch him.” 

“Yeah yeah, I’ve been a baby y/n, I know what babies do.” 

“Don’t piss me off, that’s not even the same thing.” You take a jab at the side of his head with your finger. “I’m just saying, he’s real active now, I catch him trying to do backflips off the bed at least ten times a day.” 

You feel his sucking on your breast slowing, signs that he’s done with his feeding. 

“I hear ya, y/n. I‘m not gonna let him crack his skull open on my watch.” 

“Good, best daddy ever.” You roll your eyes playfully but you mean your words wholeheartedly. Regardless of the situation between you two, Katsuki was so helpful and supportive now that ‘Sumi was actually here, and he made this co-parenting thing so much easier than you thought it’d be. 

Katsumi pulls away from you, easing his head away until your nipple is no longer in his mouth. He hears Katsuki but he can’t see him, tossing his head back and moving it side to side until he finally lays eyes on his daddy. 

One of his tiny hands is clinging to the thin strap of your dress while the other makes grabbies at Katsuki.

“You wanna come to Papa?” He asks, the big grin on his face is so precious. 

Bakugo washes his hands with cold water, drying them off before he gently grabs him from you, laying him over his shoulder to burp him. He catches the little bit he spit up with the bib, and hands it to you to swap for a clean one. 

He sits Katsumi on the counter, pretending to punch him with his own little fists and it sends him into a fit of giggles and screams. 

"You got anything going on today?" You’re leaned against the counter, just watching the two of them. It brings a smile to your face, one you quickly drop before he could realize it cause it almost feels wrong to enjoy it. 

"Nah, mom wants to see em' so we're gonna head over. That's all though, you?"

“Nothing today, but I’m going clothes shopping for ‘Sumi soon, tomorrow or Tuesday.”  

“Yeah? Already?”

You nod your head as you lift the lids on your pots, stirring one more time before turning the burners off. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think he’d be growing out of all his stuff so damn soon. I was thinking we could pick out some of the neutral stuff for Denki and Jirou. Donate the rest to the hospital.”

Now that he’s really looking at it, the onesie is a little tighter around his thighs. His baby boy is growing so fast it almost brings tears to his eyes. Soon enough he’ll be crawling, then walking and then college—he couldn’t even fathom the thought of his little nugget going to college! 

He disregards his manic thoughts when he hears your voice again. “Maybe we can go together..you can hold the bags like you used to…if you want to, and if you have time, of course.” 

“Of course I do, I’ll make time.”

You’re shocked at his enthusiasm because this couldn’t be the same man who’d ‘rather take a slug from Kirishima than get stuck shopping with you.’ 

But who could blame him, coming home to an empty house for the past couple of months had him going damn near insane. He was craving any kind of contact with you. 

Babydaddy!Bakugo who just can't resist your cooking, especially when it meant being in your presence even longer than usual. Now standing at your kitchen island eating the hefty plate you made him, watching you wrap the ones you’re giving him to go for him and his parents. Next you’re tidying up the area and putting the rest of the food up in tupperware bowls.

He's stalking your every move, watching you like a hawk. Like prey. And don't think for one second that he doesn't notice the way your dress gets stuck in between the cheeks of your ass when you bend down to put your clean pots and pans in the cabinet.

He thinks you’re teasing, bets you’re not even wearing panties. Maybe you're innocent, but either way he takes the bait, pressing his crotch against your ass while you’re still bent. 

“Katsuki.” You try to keep your voice stern but it doesn’t phase the crimson eyed devil behind you. 

“Y/N.” He says your name back just as serious, but you can hear it, the lust oozing from his tongue. It sends chills down your entire being as he rubs up against you, and god you hate being so weak.

Babydaddy!Bakugo who should've only been there to pick up his kid, but instead has you in his lap, palms planted on the round globes of your ass while you’re bouncing on his cock like your life depended on it.

It’s hard to keep a steady pace when he’s lifting you and dropping you back down so hard and fast. You're forced to bite your lip to keep your moans at bay, your son just a few feet away, sleeping in his swing.

“Kid can sleep through an earthquake, lemme hear that pretty voice."

Babydaddy!Bakugo who's still the hot headed idiot he's always been, is only gonna tell you one time. Gives you about a minute or so before he's holding you taut, bucking his hips up into you with the meanest, most devilish grin on his face.

Now you're whining and moaning like an absolute slut.

It makes his dick throb and his balls tighten, pussy clenching around him like a vice.

"Fuck, I miss hearing those sexy sounds."

He's licking and sucking on your nipple, squeezing and kneading until he's tasting that sweet liquid gold coating his taste buds.

"St-stopppp." You're whining and pushing at his head, doing nothing but egging him on. “You're wasting it."

"Nah, Papa's gonna drink it all up." He’s holding you tight, licking at the white beads that dribble from your nipple and fucking up into you so good you start to see spots of white in your vision. He feels the way you go rigid in his arms, the first syllable of his name stuck in your throat, and he knows you’re cumming for him. He doesn’t stop—his strong hips keep bouncing your stiffened figure like you weigh nothing, fucking you through your first orgasm.

Your pussy leaves him coated in your milky white cream, still dribbling onto his lap when he lifts you off.

“Made a mess of me.” 

You’re nodding like he asked you a question, it makes him chuckle. “I’m sorry.” 

He surely doesn’t mind, especially not with the way he swipes his two fingers through the folds of your cunt, gathering more of that creamy wetness on his hand to stroke at his cock. The loud squelch of his hand rubbing up and down, using it like a lubricant and coating himself in your essence, your scent. It all should’ve been disgusting. Lewd and indecent. 

Except it wasn’t. 

If anything it turned you on more, an indirect laying of claim, reminding you that he was still yours. God knows you shouldn’t be having those kind of thoughts, not until you two have reached a common ground, but Katsuki knew every which way to push your buttons. 

He’s got you on your back now, panting like a dog as he drills your cunt with remnants of your milk trailing down the bottom of his chin. 

A hand between your thighs and thumb strumming at your clit while he fucked you had you in a trance. Eyes rolled into the back of your head and your plump bottom lip pulled tightly between your lips. The sheer force and friction of every thrust has your bonnet slipping and sliding until the luscious jet black locks of your wig are free. Fuck it’s so long and pretty and you look like a fucking goddess underneath him. He wishes he could have you like this all day, everyday.

He's not letting up, both of those big hands of his now palming at the back of your thighs as he pushes them flat against the couch, pounding you to oblivion, digging you out like this might be the last time. You pray it's not the last time. You also pray your couch comes clean, he's got your pussy gushing, dripping all over your sage colored cushions.

Katsuki sees your eyes trailing over to Katsumi, the swing is still going, you wonder how long he set the timer for.

"Eyes on me baby, he's good. I promise."

He is. Mouth slightly open and he’s snoring a little, still sleeping like the little cherub he is while his daddy bullies your cunt, fucking you like he hates your guts.

"Just focus on me." He's peppering kisses all over you in between his speaking. "I know you miss me fucking you. Tell me how much you miss this dick."

It's been almost five months since you've been fucked like this, or fucked at all for that matter. 

"So so much! Miss you so much papa." You’re pulling his face down towards yours, pressing your lips together, legs wrapped around his waist. This scene probably resembles the one that got you pregnant in the first place.

"Yeah? Talk to me, mama.” He hopes you mean it. Prays it isn't just cock-drunk babbling cus he misses you too. So fucking much.

"Yeahh.” Your brows are scrunched together as you nod furiously. “I haven't fucked nobody else. This pussy's still yours baby."

God he misses you like this, so cock-drunk and cute.

He leans in to kiss you again, tongues fighting for dominance against each other’s. “Haven’t fucked anybody either. This dick is always gonna be yours baby.”

He feels you clenching around him and that’s all the confirmation he needs as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy. 

The both of you lie there together, there’s no telling how many minutes have gone by—just skin to skin basking in the afterglow of eachother until Katsumi let’s out a yelp that startles the both of you, whining a little as his swing comes to a stop. He’s stretching his tiny arms and smacking his lips, both signs of a great nap, making those weird baby noises. 

Katsuki smirks to himself. He knows his kid like the back of his hand and wants to hit you with a big, fat ‘I told you so’ for doubting him. Instead, plants a kiss on the side of your face before he gets up. 

Babydaddy!Bakugo who has you blinking back tears as you stare at his retreating form exiting the threshold of your home. 

“Be safe.” You call out just before the door closes. It’s always bittersweet every single time, watching the two of them leave, praying they both returned to you safely. It makes you yearn to have your family back. Back under the same roof, and back to the way things used to be.

❀

~𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓜𝓮, 𝓜𝔂 𝓟𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓵 ~

𝔇𝔬𝔪𝔞 𝔵 ℌ𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫! ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐷𝑜𝑚𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑔𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑠, 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒’𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ. 

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔(𝑠): 𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑂𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑛-𝑐𝑜𝑛, 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑, 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑣𝑒!𝐷𝑜𝑚𝑎, 𝑜𝑛𝑒-𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝.

𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦, 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝐴.𝑁.: 𝑂𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑡, ℎ𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟, 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒’𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡. 𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑍𝑢𝑘𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑙, 𝑠𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ! 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑡!

✦✦✦

Doma had you sit on his lap, one of his clawed hands grasping your hips, giving it light squeezes every few seconds. Every fiber of your being trembled. You held your hands close to your chest, clasping your palms together so tightly your knuckles turned white, and you refused to look up,  too scared to meet the demon’s unnerving stare. You could still feel his gaze on you, however, looking at you with dreamy, half-lidded eyes. He hummed a small tune,  one a mother would sing to their children at night, caressing your face with his knuckles. His touch was gentle yet cold, you couldn’t help but think death himself was at your side. 

Yet, it’s almost as if he was.

“My sweet petal,” Doma cooed, flashing his sharp fangs as he chuckled. His laugh sent a cold wave of fear to wash over you, when laughter is always supposed to fill you with warmth. You couldn’t help but shiver. “My pretty [Name], are you hungry? I can have my followers bring you food!”

“N-No, I’m fine, Doma,” you replied, shaking your head. “I’m still full from this morning.”

It’s true, you ate like a king — much to Doma’s delight—to the point you couldn’t even move. The demon hand-fed you every piece of food, making sure you tasted every savory dish he had his cult prepare for you. Every grain you swallowed left Doma giggling like a child, content in seeing you enjoying yourself, causing him to abandon the bowl in his hand and grab a different plate to feed you. 

You couldn’t even tell him no because he just ignored you, insisting to keep going. You couldn’t even escape, knowing the man was too strong to outrun. Thus, you were left to endure his doting and spoiling behavior.

Keep reading

彡YOU'RE NOT MINE

a/n- i am in love with this man we should have had him in this arc we were ROBBED having to wait till tenrou just to see him again is insane

˗ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

"everything is so strange here, like what's up with lucy." you mumbled to wendy while pointing at lucy who had natsu in one of her 'techniques' "I know right everything is odd, it's like they're completely different people-"

"what are you two doing under the table?" the two of you jumped at the sound of the voice, however, the voice was familiar to you and despite the accusation that scared you out of your skin it was almost soothing.

you and wendy stood up from under the table and you made eye contact with the person who called you out, at the sight of each other your eyes went wide and your jaws fell slack.

"y/n?" "laxus?" the two of you spoke in unison, you wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how you missed him and thought of him every single day, but, you knew he wasn't your laxus. you could only assume he came to the same realization as you, his shock was replaced with longing, and his arms rested awkwardly at his sides as he hesitated to reach out to you "can we speak outside? we kind of have an audience" he nodded his head to his guildmembers and your guildmembers who started in shock "sure."

you leaned against the outside of the guild, shuffling your feet awkwardly speechless at his presence.

"i know you're not my y/n, you're so familiar to me yet so different to me at the same time" he chuckled "it's freaky." you noticed how he awkwardly had his hands in his pockets, the nervousness on laxus wasn't something you were used to it was cute even if you were ever able to see him again you couldn't wait to tell him about this world.

"if it's not too much trouble for you what happened to me? err... the y/n of this world i mean." you spoke gently not wanting to overstep your bounds.

"you were expelled, right before the master died you were reckless and challenged the kingdom putting everyone in danger, so as a result you were expelled from the guild."

you laughed "how ironic, the laxus i know was the one who got expelled he was a real piece of work. he's also not this nervous" you teased. he couldn't help but be embarrassed, with his y/n's face being the same as yours your comment got to him, and he looked away from you to hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

for him, the sound of your voice was everything, you've been gone for who knows how long, and he would have given anything to see you again. he knows you're not his, maybe it's just fate playing a cruel fate on the two of you but deep down even if your respective lovers were from two different worlds, the two of you were glad you could see your loves again.

Night drive with silas. Maybe reader had a stockholm syndrome?

The best for you

Mafia!yandere OC x stockholmsyndrome!reader

Summary: after a while in the basement you've finally broken. You're finally obedient.

Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, kissing, great fear, hints of violence

You messed up badly. You should not have tried to escape. Look where you ended up — in the darkest corner of his basement with your ankles chained to the stone floor. Reduced to nothing more than a dog.

You're not sure how long you've been down here, but you've been given the opportunity to use the degrading potty four times by now by rough, evil men. Or was it more?

A string of light lights up a small portion of the basement and heavy steps coming down the stairs makes you tense.

"Y/N, baby, it's me", Silas says softly and moves closer to you in the dim light.

He's wearing his dark clothes with his shirt unbuttoned two buttons down and rolled up by his sleeves. In his right hand he holds a see through plastic bag. There's something inside …

"Hi, little thing", Silas says and sits down in front of you.

You press yourself closer to the wall, wishing nothing else than to melt into it and disappear.

"No, no, no, shh, it's okay", he says quickly. "I'm not going to hurt you anymore. Everything is over. I'm here to help."

You doubt that.

He picks up something from the plastic bag and holds the hand open in front of him. A green ball is lying in his palm.

"I got you grapes", he smiles. "I've washed them twice, so you have nothing to be skeptical of."

You look at the grape, hunger roaring through your stomach. Your hand twitches.

"That's right, baby", Silas smiles, "it's yours, take it."

With his reassurance, your hand snatches the grape from his open palm and places it in your mouth. The sudden taste makes you grimace and he smiles, picking up one more. You hesitate. There has to be something waiting for you. He can't be this nice. You're sure that if you try to take the grape, he'll grab your hand in that tight grip he usually has.

"Don't be scared, baby", Silas says softly. "They're all for you."

You shake your head quickly, pressing closer to the wall. You won't fall into his trap.

"They are, I promise", Silas says, moving his hand closer. "Take it."

Your hand snatches the grape just as quickly.

"I'm going to remove the cuffs, okay?" Silas says and moves closer.

Your hands attempt to grab the plastic bag, quickly regretting it. You stare at him with wide eyes, waiting for any sign of anger or disappointment. Nothing.

"You can have the bag if you let me unchain you. Deal?"

You nod hesitantly and hold out your hand. Silas places the plastic bag in your palm. You start to pick up grapes, chewing quicker than the speed of light while he unlocks the chains. He leans back on his hands, looking at you fondly.

"Tasty?" he asks.

You nod carefully. He can tell that your hands are shaking.

"Can you give me one?" he asks and holds out his hand.

You look at his rough hand and down in the bag, contemplating. Slowly, you pick up one of the grapes and drop it in his hand. He smiles and pops it into his mouth. You turn your face down into the bag again. In the corner of your eye you can see him sit up straight again and move closer. You have no time to escape before his arms are wrapped around you in a gentle hold. You forget how to breathe or move. Entire body, all muscles, tense up. You want to push him away or yell at him to let you be, but your brain is having a multipurpose shutdown. The only thing coming out of your mouth being measly whimpers. Silas rubs his hand over your back softly.

"It's okay, little thing", he whispers. "You don't have to be afraid of me anymore. I love you so, so much."

His hand comes up to massage your roots. All of these actions are so soft and after being chained up in this cold, hard and unforgiving basement, you can't do anything else but slowly relax. He notices that and brings you closer until your body is pressed into his. Tears are building up in your chest. You've wanted to cry since you got locked down here, but you haven't dared to. Your tears would have reminded you of how badly you hate your life. But now that you're in Silas’s warm embrace, the walls keeping the tears in are slowly but surely collapsing.

"It's okay, little thing", Silas whispers. "Let it out. I will protect you."

His words sound so genuine that it aches in your broken heart. All you want is for him to treat you normally, why cant he? You suddenly think to yourself that … maybe he does treat you normally, it's just you who are so difficult that he sees no way out than to chain you in here. Tears start to escape your eyes and you're quick to hide them down into his shoulder. He locks your head in place with his hand. You cry out all the frustrations you've felt over both Silas and yourself, over everything and everyone around you. Silas sits in silence, listening. When you finally stop, he pulls your head back and cups your wet cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs. Maybe he isn't too bad after all …?

"Do you want to go upstairs?" he asks with sweet eyes. "Sleep in our bed for a while?"

You nod. Suddenly his touch doesn't feel that poisonous anymore. He stands up and helps you up on your feet. With his arm wrapped around your waist, he brings you upstairs. Now that your stone wall has been removed from you, Silas is the best substitute for you to hide in. He melts everytime you move closer, but he silently hopes that he hasn't broken you. You usually get scared after being locked in the basement, your mind resets like a video game.

His men follow you with their eyes, always interested to see how you've been tamed this time. You press yourself closer to Silas. Not a word needs to be spoken, he already knows.

"If you look at them again it'll be the last thing you ever see" Silas warns his men, bringing you to the stairs to the second floor.

You glance at him, heart softening at how he stood up for you.

He helps you up to your shared bedroom and into the bathroom. You're allowed to take a quick shower before he tucks you into the bed. The soft material around you feels like heavenly clouds compared to the ice cold Hell you've been kept in. It doesn't take more than two minutes before you're knocked out cold with his hand caressing your cheek.

When you wake up, the room is empty. You shoot up, first thought being: "where is Silas?" You look around in desperation. You can't understand this new thinking, this sudden urge to be perfect for him. Be so perfect that you'll never have to end up in the basement again. You've never been so dependent on Silas like this before. Your heart is hammering, all nerves in your body screaming to be close to Silas. Without him, you'll only do something wrong and end up there again …

He must be down in his office, you think and hurry up from the bed. You run over to the door, grabbing the handle.

"Where do you think you're going?" Silas asks firmly, coming out from the bathroom. "I can't even take a piss without you trying to run off."

You breathe out in relief and run over, hugging him tightly. The man freezes in shock and confusion.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"I thought you left!" you mumble. "I got so scared."

He relaxes, understanding. Carefully, his arms wrap around you with a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Of course I won't leave you", he says comfortingly. "I love you, my little angel. Love you so much."

He notices how you glance down at his lips. You need to be close to him.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he asks smugly.

You nod quickly. He smiles gently and leans down to connect his lips with yours. You respond quickly. He almost flinches in shock, but is quick to match your pace. He almost loses control to you, but is quick to regain it. There's no way you'll get to lead the action. Silas melts into a puddle in your embrace. Your mouth is heavenly soft … and you taste like his wildest fantasies.

"I'm sorry, Silas", you mumble. "I-I shouldn't have tried to run away from you. I don't know what I was thinking, please forgive me."

"You are forgiven, baby", he reassures you.

"I never want to end up there again."

"You won't. Just be as good as you're being now and you won't ever have to see that awful place again."

You breathe out in relief.

"I have to run a quick errand", Silas says.

"Don't leave!" you yelp.

Silas chuckles and caresses your cheeks. "Let me finish, will you? I was going to ask you if you want to come with me. It's just a nice little drive."

You nod. Silas takes your hand in his and leads you out the door, down the stairs.

"Boss, you can't go now!" one of his men says, stressed out of his mind. "We have so much to do!"

"Don't talk to him like that!" you cut him off, a warning to him what will happen if you anger Silas,but also feeling offended that they disrespect him.

"It's okay, baby", Silas smiles and wraps his arm around your shoulders. "You don't have to get involved." He turns to the man. "I do what I want. If you'd paid more attention, you'd know that I'm going on a business errand, not a fun trip. So step aside before you embarrass yourself any further."

The man clears his throat and gives the two of you space. You pity the foolish man. Surely you can't be the only one knowing about the harsh — brutal — consequences?

Silas leads you out to his black, shiny car and opens the front door for you. You jump in and buckle yourself while he gets in behind the steering wheel and turn on the engine.

"If you want, you can just drift off to sleep", Silas says and backs out of the driveway.

You shake your head. Silas chuckles, knowing that you'll be blacked out in twenty minutes anyway.

Twenty minutes pass and you're still awake, much to his surprise. Your eyelids are hanging, deepy wishing that you could let yourself sleep. Although he's given you permission, you're scared that he'll be mad at you for leaving his company. He is unpredictable after all. You soend the time to watxh the twinkling stars up in the night sky, look at the streetlights you pass. It all is so pretty. There are barely any people out by now, but that's almost nicer.

Silas turns to look at you.

"Why are you still awake, baby?" he smiles. "You're obviously tired."

"I shouldn't leave you alone", you whisper regretfully. "I won't be good then …"

"You will be good. You will be the best even, I told you it's okay. Go to sleep, sweet thing."

"Are you sure?"

He chuckles and takes your hand, squeezing it softly. You feel a shameful thump in your heart. Deep down, you know you shouldn't trust him, but oh, how much you really want to.

"Of course I am", he responds. "I took you with me because I know you fall asleep in cars. I'll even put on some calm music for you."

And he does. A sweet, hypnotizing tune enters your ears, making you smile slightly. This time, sleep is inevitable. Only a few minutes later, you're gone. Silas smiles and caresses your cheek with his free hand. He finally succeeded this time. You're finally obedient — finally his.

Is it just an incredily expensive party dress she is trying out or is it really for something else? Bonten Mikey seems to know at least :) Find out in Chapter 3 of Going Home (my Time Leaper darling AU)!

Another amazingly stunning piece by @purarupu ! Thank you again for the incredible work, blows my mind everytime I see it :D Been a while since this was done but just found the opportunity to post this given I commissioned this with Going Home in mind.