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corvus--rex · 7 months

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Lance and Keith started dating early in high school, even before Keith came out and started his transition, and it's now just after college and they're engaged. They've been with Lance's family for the day, Sylvio and Nadia included.

The kids are 6 and 4 and have known Keith literally their entire lives. They were too young during various stages to understand what was going on, but they both know Keith's trans.

Needing a break, Keith is curled up against Lance in the living room, while Sylvio and Nadia are sprawled on the floor with a book each. Nadia's only just learning to read, but she already loves books. She's turning the pages, mostly looking at the pictures, when she looks up, interrupting Keith and Lance's quiet conversation.

"Tío Keef, why aren't there families in my stories like ours?"

It's been about 15 years since he's read a kids' book and doesn't understand where's she's going with this. "What do you mean, munchkin?"

Nadia puts her book down, turning to face him in all the seriousness a 4 year old can muster. "They all have a mami and a papi, but not - not -" her face scrunches as she tries to find the right word.

She doesn't need to find the right word, the realization of what she's asking hits him at full force. He sits up, leaning forward to meet her eyes. "You wanna know why there isn't anyone like me?"

She nods. "It's not fair."

It's an innocent question, but she asked it with such naive sincerity, genuinely upset that she didn't see her own family in her favorite books. It gave Keith an idea. He had a new sketchbook in the backseat of his car, a very recent art degree, and the few creative writing classes he'd taken.

Nadia's books didn't have her family in their pages, but maybe they could.

"Y'know what? I'll be right back."

He ran out to his car and back with the sketchbook, plus the mechanical pencil and ballpoint pen from his bag, and sat down on the floor with her, meeting Lance's confused look asking what the hell he was doing with one that said "trust me".

"Ok, munchkin," he said to Nadia, "If your stories don't have our family in them, how about we make a new story?"

Nadia's face lit up. "We can make a new one? With our kind of family in it?"

"We can, but I'll need your help."

Sylvio was pretending to read his own book, but Lance could see him listening in and sneaking looks at the rough sketches. That didn't last long, the book quickly forgotten in favor of throwing out wilder and wilder ideas for the story with Keith gently reeling him in. Sylvio was not one to be reeled in, and Lance soon joined them on the floor to help wrangle the kids' enthusiasm. They stayed there for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, neither one wanting to leave when their parents came to tell them it was time to go. They only stopped fighting it when Keith promised them they'd work on the story again.

He kept that promise, taking the kids out every few weeks, showing them what he'd done in between when he had time, and them continuing the story and illustrations.

After it was finished, he left it for a while, not forgotten, but resting. Eventually, he pulled the illustrations and their companion sheets of text from the shoebox-like storage box he'd gotten just for this, matching art to words.

Lance came home from work to their apartment that evening to find Keith on the living room floor, bristol board and printer paper in an organized chaos around him.

"Think it's really done?" Lance asked.

Keith sighed and leaned back against the sofa. There was one thing about the book he hadn't told anyone yet, but after the email he'd gotten earlier in the day, he finally could.

"Yeah I do." He paused and looked up, a little bit guilty, but mostly trying to contain excitement. "I found a publisher for it. They're a queer-owned company. I actually sent it off about a month ago and I finally heard back today. They love it."

It had started as a picture book, but evolved since then into something a little bigger. Nadia wanted cats - all different colors, and not little kitties, no she wanted lions. And the lions had to have knights to ride on them. Sylvio was the one to insist on a princess and that she had to be their honorary Tía Allura. Gradually, all of the knights and princess ended up based on people the kids knew, Keith and Lance included. It made sense and Keith loved it and the idea of family including the one you make for yourself.

When it came time for a name for this story of found family and adventures, Sylvio yelled "Defenders of the UNIVERSE!" at the top of his lungs in the middle of the park. Nadia had been taking a break from the playground, sitting next to Keith with her coloring pad. She'd drawn the lions from their story, facing out in a vaguely star shape, their tails meeting in the middle.

Keith asked for her opinion on a story name and also what she was drawing and without looking up from her coloring, she said "Its name is Voltron."

Keith put the two together, and when the book was published, its cover was the lions Nadia had drawn that day, only by Keith's hand this time, framed on top and bottom by the book's name: Defenders of The Universe, a Voltron story.

No one had seen the dedication, not until Keith got the advance copies, giving one each to Sylvio and Nadia in the same living room the story had started in. Nadia climbed into Keith's lap with it, Sylvio squeezing himself in between Keith and Lance on the sofa.

Looking over Sylvio's shoulder, Lance read it aloud.

"For Sylvio and Nadia, the original Defenders, this book wouldn't exist without you. Don't stop reading or dreaming."

#my writing #love Keith being good with kids #trans keith #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld keith #vld lance #keith x lance #klance #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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copepods · 2 years

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after 3 months my senior thesis is finally DONE!!! 4 paintings, acrylic paint on 19x19 bristol paper :)) wahoo!!! singing dancing wailing in the streets etc (ids in alt text!!)

#AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!#fish makes art #art #painting

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minakinna · 3 months

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Eternal Eternity 💞

Done with alcohol markers, ink, and colored pencils on bristol paper

I love them so much 🥹 It's such an exhilarating feeling to be able to properly draw your comfort magical girl queer couple. I was SO HAPPY when SM Crystal made an entire ENDING for them, music AND animation. Take that 4Kids English dub 😂

Prints are available on my shop 🩷

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drachenmagier · 1 year

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Balance. :)

(And also the high priestress of the Lämp!) Markers on bristol paper, done and scanned.

Prints and Commissions Twitter - deviantART - Insta - Kofi

#drachenmagier #insect #moth #anthro #traditional art #fantasy

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doraambrose · 1 month

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1 commission done!

3 paintings on Bristol paper with posca markers of the person's cats

Next one I'm working on is pretty cool I'm really excited

#art asks #artists on tumblr #cats #jason todd #batfam #red hood #dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #dc universe #dcu #dick grayson #nightwing

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kinglivv · 1 year

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Seventy Years

Missy x Reader

Summary: Missy and the reader used to run together, wreaking havoc across the universe. But since Missy’s entrapment in the vault, they haven’t had an ounce of contact…

Warnings: Swearing, generally threatening behaviour from both parties

A/N: I haven’t posted a fic in a year and half, but today I sat down and forced myself to write after Missy popped up in a dream of mine very briefly. I’m not sure if there’s still even an audience for it, and my writing skills are a bit rusty as well as my Doctor Who knowledge. Enjoy!

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck.

This was bad.

You grab the TARDIS leaver for what must be the hundredth time and slam it down to no avail. The ship creaks slightly, but as you desperately press buttons and turn knobs, it doesn’t budge. Why, why, why had you never got the Doctor to teach you how to fly it properly?

Catching your breath, you slump against the console, it’s edge digging into your lower back as you stare at the wall blankly, racking your brain for a solution. Psychic link? No - you hadn’t done that in years and you weren’t in the mood for a migraine. Search for a manual? No - you’d spend days just searching for it. Ask the ship nicely? Definitely no - she was a bitch.

There was simply no one but the Doctor who knew how to fly the TARDIS, and when the Doctor was stranded on another planet in another time zone, there wasn’t a whole lot you could do to get back to him.

And then another idea spawns. It makes your guts twist and your stomach crawl and you grit your teeth. You were smart, even for a human, and you knew there was really no other solution.

—-

“Missy?”

There’s silence from the other side of the door and you almost turn back. This is a bad idea.

“Missy?”

“This is an unusual place to find you, dear,”

The Glasgow accent cuts through tension like an ice pick, so clear, crisp and steady, just as it’s always been. You swallow.

“I need your help.”

More silence. And then the voice is right there on the other side, so close.

“Ah. Should have known you’d only come down here if you wanted something.”

“The Doctor’s on Mars,” you power on, squeezing your eyes shut and pretending you’re speaking to anyone but her, “sometime in the 1800s. There’s Ice Warriors and Victorians, and I was in the TARDIS and it just - it just dematerialised and it won’t go back to him. I don’t know what to do.”

There’s a pause as she contemplates your predicament. You haven’t uttered the question, but she knows exactly what you’re asking.

“Have taken any readings?” She finally asks.

“Yes,” a hurried hand pulls out the piece of paper you’d scrawled over, “Eye of harmony’s at 260 degrees Celsius. Oils at 350. Pressure’s at 7.”

“Good girl,” you can hear a smile in her voice and your cheeks flare up.

“So do you know what’s wrong with it?” You almost snap.

“You’re not gonna be able to fix it, I’ll tell you that much,”

“So what do I do?”

“You let me out.”

—

The vault doors open with a hiss and there she stands, silhouetted in the dim blue light and cutting the most dashing figure. There’s a tap tap tap of her heels as she approaches you, a smug smile on her face. She’s changed since you last saw her, maybe seventy years ago now. Her make-up’s softer, her hair less tamed, and her smile is somewhat half hearted. The mania’s still there though, in the whites of her eyes and down the line of her cheek bone.

She reaches you and takes a brief glance around the hallway. It’s the most she’s seen of Bristol since her entrapment in the vault. And then there’s a click and she looks down in time to see a handcuff slotting around her wrist. The other side is on yours. She looks to your other hand and sees a… pencil and she grins. She’d taught you decades ago just how easy it was to kill a Timelord with even the smallest of sharp objects - just one nip at the back of the neck and they’re forced into their next regeneration. The sight of it in your hand makes her heart flutter and her stomach sink.

“I see how it is,” she fakes the bravado and you see right through it.

Without a word, you give the chain a yank and she follows you silently.

—-

“No funny business,” you instruct her as you approach the TARDIS console, although you know it’s a useless sentiment. She could pull the leaver and shove you into a black hole within seconds if she so pleased. But she’d allowed you the luxury of obediently walking up to the Doctor’s office without so much as a word, save for the moment when she’d grabbed your hand as someone passed by you in an effort to hide the handcuffs. Your heart had caught in your throat and you’d hoped she couldn’t feel it hammering away.

Now, stood in the TARDIS, she looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“As if I’d ever!” She mocks offense. “Mars 1810, you said?”

“Yes,” you reply, and your arm is forced to move with her as she reaches for different buttons. You’re uncomfortably close. “Coordinates 29487 by 74,” you say unprompted when her hands hover over the keyboard expectantly, and it makes your stomach twist with how easily you fall back into this routine after seventy years of virtually no contact. Memories surface of you decades ago, pressed up against her as you whisper all the places you wanted her to take you.

She types in the coordinates and twists a vast variation of knobs and presses buttons you’d never had thought needed pressing. Just before she pulls the leaver, you say “Wait.” and pull the monitor over, double checking she’s taking you exactly where she’s promised. You neglect to notice how she’s looking at you.

“You really don’t believe I’ve changed,” her shoulders have slumped slightly and you glance at her.

“Is that supposed to make me feel something?” you say passively, attention shifting back to the monitor.

Missy’s jaw clenches.

“Seventy years,” she states.

“Seventy years is nothing compared to the hundreds you’ve spent wreacking havoc.”

“I seem to remember you were present for quite a bit of that,” she retorts, “you could have visited me at any point. I know you’ve been living in Bristol,l.”

You ignore the thinly veiled accusation and scroll through the monitor. She was right though. You’d been here this whole time, posing as a student (you’d acquired almost thirty degrees in your decades spent here with the Doctor) and living a normal human life, avoiding the Mistress and waiting for her to change.

And then she yanks the cuffs and you’re dragged into her with an “oof!”

“You know what I think it is,” she hisses, “I think you like to pretend we’re different, like those years we spent together didn’t happen.”

“Missy, stop!” You struggle against her but she holds you fast.

“Does it never occur to you that I might be trying? And that your ignoring me for seventy years might be having a detrimental impact on that?“

“I wanted to know if you’re serious about this,” you snap back, the threat leaking into your voice and there you are, she almost wants to smile with glee. You were never really scared, least of all of her and you still had that bite in you. “Me and you are no good for each other if you’re really going cold turkey from being bad. Civilisations have burned because we’ve egged each other on, and the fact is that you can’t get better when I’m in the picture. Not when you could persuade me to break you out, or teach me how to force the Doctor into his next regeneration. We’re not good for each other and that’s a well known fact - I’ve not been avoiding you, I’ve been waiting.”

Missy’s face softens in surprise and you wonder if maybe you’ve gone to far. Maybe she’ll really sling you into a black hole now. Her mouth opens but before she can say anything, you’ve snapped off the cuffs and yanked the lever down. The TARDIS wheezes and you storm off to stand at the doors and wait whilst she’s left to pilot to a safe position on Mars.

—

You’re in trouble with the Doctor, you’re well aware. You’d apologised profusely when he’d stepped on board and his ever expressive eyebrows had knotted so deeply in her direction. There was a silence as he’d quickly dropped a shaking Bill home, and now he’d stepped out to drop Nardole off in his office - they had been out there a while and where presumably having an argument about the current predicament.

Missy however, sits unbothered by it all, tucked into a little alcove off one of the upper walkways circling the console room. She’s reading a book on TARDIS maintenance.

She glances up when you sit down opposite in the alcove.

“You’re right,” you announce, “and I’m sorry.”

Usually she’d retort with an “I’m always right!”, but today she just watches you, waiting, her cheekbones hollow in the soft light of the TARDIS, her eyes so blue. It occurs to you that you haven’t really seen her in a long time. Sure, the Doctor had occasionally showed you a photo of her, updated you on her progress, but this is the first time you’d really looked at her since you’d gone cold turkey from your friendship.

“I’m sorry I haven’t visited you,” you say, “and I should have. I guess I’ve just been… scared. And after I went so long without seeing you it was just easier to pretend none of it never happened.”

She nods, gaze shifting to the pillar in the centre of the TARDIS. “I am trying,” she confesses, “some days are better than others, but in whole… I think I really am trying,”

“I know you are.”

You lean over and press a kiss to her lips. A proper one, and it strikes you how familiar it is, how easily you fall back into your old pattern. You’re made for each other really, in body, mind and soul and you hold her jaw as she kisses back eagerly, not daring to move her hands from her book, frozen in the moment.

And then the door swings open - the Doctor’s definitely seen it, and the Doctor’s definitely not happy, but you turn away from Missy and push past him. A new chapter seems to be beginning.

(Will add my old taglist when i can find it)

#doctor who #the master #missy x reader #missy #gomez!master #michelle gomez #madam satan #the twelfth doctor #nardole #bill potts #peter capaldi #gender neutral reader #reader insert #doctor who fic #the vault #empress of mars #ice warriors

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tomhardyspinkyfinger · 2 years

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Work Place Romance

Summary: Y/N is Alfie Solomons secretary, she knows his entire schedule and everything about him. How is she not supposed to fall in love?

Warnings: Language, minor sexual themes

Request: an alfie solomons and reader where shes his secretary or sumn and she brings him food everyday(bcs hes always so busy to eat) and everyone asks her wgy she does it and goes through extra work and she says its bcs she likes him? and he overhears it?

A/N: hey y'all! Sorry I'm still updating so slow. I think for a while I'm going to attempt drabbles and shorts so I can still write for you guys but just not very long. I hope you enjoy this @acupnoodle !

Masterlist

The bakery was bustling with life all day today. The men knew an impending snow storm was inbound, and they were in a rush to finish early and get home to their families. It had been snowing since early morning, and was set to get much worse.

Y/N on the other hand was in no rush, she usually locked up after Alfie retired for the night. He continued to insist she leave when he does, but she always maintained that she had work to finish.

Which was always true.

Y/N knew Alfie's entire life and was responsible for organizing every single event and meeting he was required to attend. Y/N's involvement in his life has left her with unstoppable admiration for Alfred Solomons. It wasn't like she could quit or take a vacation to get over these feelings, Alfie paid way too well and was the best boss she was going to find in Camden town. (Plus the bakery would fall apart without her). She considered going out on the weekends and meeting a fine gentleman, but the weekend was when Y/N picked up Alfie's dry cleaning, took Cyril to the groomers, prepped Alfie's dinners for the week, and tidied up the bakery.

"He will see you in his office next Wednesday at 3pm sharp. Thank you for calling Mr. Lewis!" Y/N spoke, ending her call and putting the phone on the line, scribbling in Alfie's jam packed ledger.

"Who' was that?" Alfie's deep accent sounded from behind her. Y/N jumped and turned, seeing her boss standing looking over her shoulder with a curious look. Y/N placed her pen back in its holder and straightened out her papers.

"Mr. Lewis, he was scheduling a meeting to talk about investments down in Bristol. You're meeting with him Wednesday afternoon after your lunch with Mr. Shelby." Y/N explained. Alfie huffed.

"Bristol? Fuckin' posh city 'at is, what's in it for him?" Alfie grunted, walking to his desk while removing his coat and hat, shaking the snow flakes off.

"Not sure, I think his import business is struggling, bread would be sure to bring in customers." Y/N shrugged. She looked at her wrist watch and then back to the man sitting at his desk reading papers with his glasses resting upon his nose.

"Why are you back so early? Your visit with the distributors wasn't set to be done for another hour." Y/N flipped through her ledger with a puzzled face. Alfie grunted.

"Storm's movin faster than we thought, left early to get back 'ere" He explained without removing his eyes from his paper.

"Well I wish you would have phoned ahead to tell me, I could push your appointments for the rest of the day up." Y/N huffed, frustrated that her meticulous planning could have been adjusted to save them both time.

"I don't 'ave anymore meetin's today." Alfie stated plainly. Y/N furrowed her brows even more and flipped back through the ledger.

"You have five more meetings before close Alfie, Jim is coming in on your lunch break in an hour an-" Alfie cut her off.

"Ah yes lunch, where is it? I'm starved." Alfie said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his stomach, looking like a grizzly bear as he did so. Y/N resisted the urge to smile at his cute act.

"Alfie. What do you mean you don't have any more meetings?" Y/N pressed again.

"Christ love, you're going to give yourself an ulcer. Like I said the storm is comin' in quicker 'an we thought. I gave the men the rest of the day off and canceled my meetings." Alfie explained. Y/N just about had a heart attack. She stood from her desk across from Alfie's and began pacing the room.

"Alfred Solomons! This throws my entire ledger off! How am I supposed to reschedule that many meetings? You're completely booked for the next six weeks! This is terrible for business, maybe if I call them-" Before Y/N could finish, Alfie was standing in front of her, his hands on her waist to stop her pacing. She could feel the indentation of his rings through her dress and she shivered lightly. She looked into his eyes and let out a deep breath.

"You're about to pace an 'ole through the floor, sit down and take a breath yeah? Those meetin's weren't important. The bakery is just fine." Alfie spoke, rubbing his thumbs up and down her waist gently. Her anger towards his carelessness was gone immediately, he had a way of doing that. She huffed and let him guide her to his chair where she sat. After sitting in his chair she went into his desk drawer and placed his freshly made sandwich wrapped in parchment on his desk.

“Roast chicken sandwich I made from my leftovers last night.” Y/N explained, rubbing her forehead. Alfie unwrapped the sandwich and took a gluttonous bite, smacking as he chewed the food. He sat himself at the edge of his desk, something Y/N knew would bother his joints.

“Fuckin’ delicous ‘at is.” He mumbled with his mouth full. Y/N let out a sigh and reached up, gently pushing his chin so his mouth would close, swiping crumbs from his beard as she removed her hand. It was then that Y/N realized how quiet the bakery truly was. No chatter from the men, no heavy machinery, even the streets outside were devoid of all sound. Y/N felt tempted to lean in after she removed her hand from Alfie’s face but resisted. He stared into her eyes with that look only he could give, the one that made her scared, weak, and in love all at once.

“What would I do without you?” He asked, quieter than his normal speaking volume.

“Probably combust into flames.” She shrugged. He let out a scoff laugh and Y/N chuckled. The pair sat in silence for a few minutes longer while Alfie ate and Y/N organized his space.

A few hours later Y/N and Alfie were doing what they usually did during a normal day at the bakery. Y/N’s workload was a bit different and more stress inducing, she had to call and reschedule all of Alfie’s canceled meetings and adjust inventory and compensation for all the workers Alfie let off early. Y/N knew these extra tasks on top of her usual work load would have her in the office later than usual. Alfie worked on his own paperwork, sorting contracts and things alike. They worked in silence how they usually do, but today was different. The silence surrounding the bakery was deafening, and the tension was palpable.

Y/N sighed and looked out the window, the snow falling quicker than it was earlier. Her walk home was going to be miserable. She knew Alfie had men following her to ensure her safe return, but she always insisted she walk to and from work to maintain her independence. Alfie decided to have men follow her without her knowledge, but Y/N was Alfie’s secretary, she signed off on the raise for that task.

“Alright, treacle, I’m takin’ the car home, the roads should be clear for a while longer from what I ‘eard.” Alfie spoke, breaking the silence. He stood and put his hat and coat on, walking to the door as his cane quietly clanked on the wooden floorboards. He stopped at my desk and opened his hand out to me.

“C’mon now, love, day’s over.” Alfie spoke. Y/N shook her head and looked back at her ledger.

“You go on home Alfie, I still have meetings to rearrange and set up on top of going through today’s accounts and a few other tasks. I’ll see you in the morning if the roads are cleared up.” Y/N dismissed Alfie, continuing to write.

“M’not leavin’ ya’ here to freeze, treacle. Stop bein’ stubborn and let me take you home.” Alfie grunted, getting frustrated with the determined woman who sat in front of him.

“You and I both know I won’t be leaving this office any time soon, and I won’t let you wait for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Alfred.” Y/N spoke, a bit of irritation in her tone. Alfie sighed, when she called him Alfred whatever she was saying was final, no if’s, and’s, or what's about it. He nodded to her and left his office, deciding to wait outside of the bakery in the snow for her to finish up. He would show her she wasn’t the only hard headed worker in the bakery.

Y/N continued on working like normal, telling herself she was most likely going to crash on the couch in the office to avoid the storm. It had been about an hour later when she decided to take a break and call up her friend Myrtle, Ollie’s wife.

Alfie on the other hand, cursed himself and Y/N for being so stubborn as his joints ached in the cold winter air. Alfie used his key to reenter the bakery, rubbing his hands together and deciding to go and get Y/N, whether she came willingly or not.

Y/N walked about the office while chatting with Myrtle.

“What in gods name are you still doing down at the bakery at this hour? Didn’t that Solomons let everyone go home early?” Myrtle questioned on the other line. Y/N huffed.

“Yeah I would’ve been home early today if that damned man didn’t cancel all his meetings. I was left behind to clean up the mess.” Y/N complained. Alfie stood outside of the open office door and held himself back for yelling at her for that rubbish she was spreading.

“Oh please Y/N, we both know you could’ve done that work tomorrow and the bakery would still remain unchanged. You just want to please that boss of yours.” Myrtle scoffed. Y/N huffed and played with the cord of the phone.

“I do not want to please him! I just prefer to be organized! Can you blame me for being good at my job?” Y/N ranted. Alfie felt a bit bad for listening in, but then again he’s probably done worse than light eavesdropping.

“Sweetheart, you only need to be good at your job during working hours. Cooking his meals and walking his dog is hardly under the job description of a secretary. That’s the job of a wife.”

“Well, he isn’t married! He only has one maid and she’s not getting any younger, you saw Edith at the market last week, she looked weak. I’m just giving a bit of extra help to his household.” Y/N continued to defend herself.

“Why can’t you admit you are in love with him darling? After I told Ollie I loved ‘em he basically pushed me into the synagogue and had us married.” Myrtle urged. Y/N sighed but smiled nonetheless at the love those two shared.

“I can’t ever be in love with my boss, Myrtle. It’s incredibly inappropriate, he would never love me back, and I care about him too much to toss what we already have in the trash.” Y/N spoke, pushing tears back.

“You’ll never know until you just tell him! Things don’t have to be different Y/N, he might love you too! And with the way you care for him? You’re practically betrothed without all the fuckin!” Myrtle exclaimed. Y/N laughed.

“Yeah well, the only man I would consider fucking is a man who will never love me the way I love him. Alfred Solomons has made it very clear I am not a woman he would ever desire.” Y/N spoke, trying to stop her throat from closing up. She came to that conclusion after overhearing Alfie saying he would never date or marry, especially a hard headed woman, he said he wouldn’t have the time or energy for a woman of that caliber. So, Y/N knew he didn’t want her.

“An’ who the fuck told you that?” Alfie spoke from the doorway. Y/N jumped and turned to see Alfie there with his hat and coat in hand, placing his cane against the wall.

“Did he just hear everything you-”

“I will call you later Myrtle.” Y/N spoke, her eyes still wide and her heart now beating rapidly. She ended the call and avoided Alfie’s eyes.

“I-I’m sorry Mr. Solomons. Please can we just forget everything? I don’t want to ruin anything and I need this job! I am so embarrassed I can’t believe I-”

“Christ woman, would you shut up?” Alfie called out, rubbing his beard. Y/N’s mouth snapped shut and she grew even more nervous.

“I never would’ve thought you’d go for a bloke like me. I’m fuckin’ criminal, dove. I steal, I kill, I lie, and I’m a selfish bastard. I know I’m no good for ya, but because I am such a selfish bastard, I plan on keeping you all to myself if you’ll allow it. Judgin’ by you wantin’ to fuck me an’ all, I think we’re in agreement, yeah?” Alfie spoke, placing his hat and coat on Y/N’s desk before approaching where she stood in the middle of the office. Y/N’s cheeks flushed.

“So, you… want to be with me?” Y/N questioned, looking up into Alfie’s eyes. Alfie scoffed.

“If I knew you were this daft, I wouldn’tve hired ya.” Alfie joked. Y/N laughed and gently smacked his arm.

“You couldn’t tell your head from your ass wihtout me, Solomons.” Y/N replied. Alfie’s face spread out in his beautiful grin he rarely showed off.

“An’ that’s why I fuckin’ need you more than air, dove.” Alfie muttered, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. Y/N moaned into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his thick hair. He responded by placing one large hand across her back, pulling her flush to him, while the other hand gripped her waist. Alfie’s beard scratched Y/N’s face in the best way, and the feeling of his coarse beard hair coupled with his plump lips against his had her melting in his hands.

The sound of a loud bang pulled the couple away from each other. The bakery had gone pitch black, the snow storm knocking the power out. They both took deep breaths and looked around in the darkness until the pair managed to light enough candles to light up the small room.

The warmth of the candlelight surrounded them both as Alfie picked Y/N up, laying her down gently on the couch.

“How about I show you just how bad I want to fuck you, yeah?”

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