Alfie Pennyworth Kissing Headcanons
Request: Oh, Alfie! Please this cutie kissing my neck headcanons 🥰
Thank you for the request my lovely @myotherblog-33! <3
You and Alfie had known each other forever, and had been sweethearts for nearly just as long. You see, back in the good old days before the war, the two of you had grown up next door to each other on the outer streets of London. Your mother and Mary Pennyworth had often spent an afternoon round each other’s living rooms, sitting and gossiping and laughing and teasing the two of you playfully, so you and Alfred had often been pushed out to spend the day in each other’s company.
The two of you had always been inseparable - often getting into trouble by returning home after dark, your clothes dirty and ruined, or stealing the biscuits Alfie’s mother used to make for him to bring to school, instead running off down to the local park to sit under the old oak tree knee to knee and share them all.
It was before the war started, though, that he finally confessed to you how he had felt all along. Although he was rather gruff, a little rough around the edges and quite prideful, a huge smile broke out over his face when you whole-heartedly returned his affection.
He is just so in love with you. You’re his soulmate, his everything, his whole life, and so every time he goes out to try and earn some money in some dodgy business deal, he reminds himself that he’s doing it all for you. So you can have a better life.
The two of you run the nightclub together, you as the usual head of business while he’s away with Bazza and Daveboy doing things he usually tries to keep separate from you. But one day, when he stalks back in through the door, slouching his way back up the steps leading up to your little room at the top of the club and plops down a tired mess next to you on the sofa, you know something is wrong.
He’s overly clingy - usually he’s quite reserved, dignified, trying to act the gentleman in front of others. PDA isn’t his usual form of love language, so a sinking feeling fills your heart to know something must have gone wrong today if he’s wrapped his arms around your shoulders and clumsily pulled you into a tight hug against his chest.
He never wants to alarm you, so he doesn’t say anything, but there was a bit of a tussle with some bad men today and for a moment, just one, he was terrified that he wasn’t going to make it back home to you.
It wasn’t even himself he was worried about, it was the guilt in knowing that he would have left the love of his life alone.
So you indulge him, appreciating for once the way that he’s closer and more open to you right now than he has been since he came back from the war.
He feels more like himself again.
All he wants to do is spend the rest of the night kissing your neck on the sofa, nothing to bother you but the glistening pearls of those cold, golden, far away stars outside the cracking latticed windows that run along the side of the room.
You turn yourself over to straddle him, slowly allowing your legs to slide over his thighs until you’re kneeling above him, pinning his breathless form down onto the cushions. You should see the look on his face, oh my GOODNESS. He’s all panting breaths as you stroke away those loose raven curls away from his eyes. All racing heart thundering against the dress shirt you slowly unbutton. He follows your every movement, eyes never leaving you as they widen with this slack jaw look of absolute awe and wonderment.
When you go to pull back a little, he grabs your left hand and brings it closer until it’s cupping his cheek. He gently tilts it. kissing the inside of your palm warmly as he stares at you with want.
Then he surges forward, in the usual way he does when he’s about to sweep you off your feet and kiss you. Instead, though, he tilts your cheek to the side with the tip of his nose in that brash and confident way that he does.
He grabs your hands and moves them to wrap around his waist until you’re firmly latched onto him, legs tight against his own as you groan in delight at the way his large ones move to run up your spine.
He’s slow at first, teeth scraping against your skin as he attacks your neck, before gently tracing over the spot with his tongue as if in apology.
You can feel his breath quicken by the way it warms up your neck.
Although he isn’t one for blushing, you can tell how much he needs this, how much he wants you, how much you mean to him by the way he scrunches up his eyes tightly until they crinkle at the edges.
Then he gets more heated, his kisses warm and passionate, sloppy and all-encompassing as his lips latch onto your skin as if its air and he’s a man drowning in you.
He pulls you towards him until your waist meets the bottom of his stomach, lifting your chin up with his pointer finger harshly so he can press desperate, sloppy kisses further up your neck until he reaches the shell of your ear.
He bites your lobe lightly, chuckling at the way he feels you shiver against his chest.
After a while, the two of you pull away from each other for air. You just stare at each other for a minute, until he closes his eyes and spends the next while just resting his forehead against your own.
