#Solomon can abduct me and take me somewhere only he knows about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sirensmojo · 3 years

Text

"KINDRED",5 - Tommy Shelby x Reader (x Alfie Solomons).

Warnings: Alfie is a warning, mention of abduction, swearing, guns, fluff & slight angst at the end.

Summary: You're an ex war-nurse reconverted as the leader of a feminist organisation. You join forces with the leader of the backstreet Birmingham gang, Thomas Shelby, to cut the head of the Fascist serpent, Oswald Mosley.

Word Count: 5K+

AN: Gina's family is totally OC as we know nothing about her in the show / POV alternate between characters' and Y/N's.

*Masterlist*

❰ Previous Chapter

*Margate, Solomons’ residence*

“Alfie!” You exclaimed. You were wearing a white woollen coat with fur around your neck, the same coloured futrzane at the top of your head flattening your finger-waved hair on each part of your face.

Under the woollen coat, you wore a light brown satin dress covering your full body with white high heels. Your look wouldn’t be complete without your blue stones jewellery collection of necklace and earrings. Your golden rings complimented her fingers above one of your white lace gloves.

That was the sound of your heels that made the man turn his head, his mind was elsewhere and he didn’t hear your call.

“Eh, eh, eh. Who that might be, huh, none other than Y/L/N.” He muttered to himself, squinting his eyes looking towards you.

You got closer to him and met with a frowning maid that looked at you with envy at the back of her eyes. You offered her a genuinely warm smile that let your white teeth out, which confused the maid.

“Glad to see you’re still breathing, Captain.” You reached to him.

You were always seemed to be open and all heart with women whereas you were the opposite with men.

“And what you be doing here, love? Thought I left you back in the smoke, innit?”

“Well I’m here Alfie, that war’s done, but there’s another one coming.” Y/N said outright. You stopped in front of him, took off the glove free of rings and passed your fingers through his hair, down to his cheek. Alfie remained silent as Y/N's fingers sprinkled his skin with sparks.

You grabbed his chin between your index and thumb, moving his head to the side, you were examining the damage that has been done to his right eye. “I met him.” You solemnly let out.

He already knew who you were referring to.

“He a fucking bookmaker, what you have with him?” He innocently let out, which made you chuckle a bit as you sat down on the sofa in front of him.

You clicked your tongue before slowly putting back your glove. “I love you, Alfie. There’s no bad blood between us but you know me. So don’t fucking try me.” Your threat was covered with an implied mention of your intertwined past, so you would reason with him with both reason and sentiment.

He grabbed the binoculars laying down next to him and raised it vertically towards the sea. “Fucking birds making noise all day annoying my peace of mind... If our mate didn’t shoot me I’ll be shooting ‘em, you know.”

“He was here before me, so you know he entered politics, Alfred.”

He glanced at you hearing his full name on your lips. No one but you ever called him that, and he had forgotten that habit of yours.

“I mean, he would’ve shot me anyway, right. But aiming right is free, innit?” He looked away. “Even at night, they be fucking screaming, mate. Try sleeping in some fucking screaming box.”

“You have trouble sleeping?” You snapped back, interested, catching the man's attention. He knew exactly what you were referencing to, shared memories about sharing beds during war.

“Not like that.” He got back to looking in his binoculars, choosing not to go on to that path.

“Not like that, huh?” You raised your brows at him, he had opened the gates and shall have what he asked for.

You let your coat fall on your arms, showing your naked shoulders and tilted your head. “We could still work it, like good old times, eh?” You teased the man, your Y/E/C piercing eyes not leaving his face.

Alfie didn’t even look at you. “Where’s your gun, Y/N?” He asked, presenting his palm to you, waiting. “Care to give it here for a sec?”

And without even thinking twice you grabbed your little gun from your shoulder holster under your coat and placed it in Solomon’s hand. You were watching his movements as he cocked the gun and aimed something outside the house you surmised to be the birds he was talking about.

“Thought you’d hand me one of your rifles, mad deceived ‘am now” He followed the targets with the gun without daring to shoot.

“War’s over, Alfie.” You put back on your coat and lit a cig before leaning backwards on the sofa, making yourself comfortable.

“Came in here telling me some war coming, now telling me it’s done…Come on, pick a struggle, love” He grumbled to himself as shifting his position.

“I lied. Actually, the war’s already here, and I have both feet in.” You raised your brows, smoking your cig.

“Me none.”

“Not yet.” You snapped back, getting up. “Look, Alfred. Margate’s not doing you any justice. Get back in business, come back to London.” You encouraged him. “You didn’t welcome me when I set foot in town. Didn’t even kiss me ‘bonjour’ *talking french* (=hello). I need my Captain back.” Your voice lowered on the last part as if you were pouting.

“Did you ever put your palm on one eye, eh? When child, you do that to see if life is any different seen by one eye or the other. You cover one eye with your palm and look fucking far away, yea. I used to do that often, you?” He stops what he was doing to glance at you, that was standing near him.

“No.”

“Well, life’s fucking different. Yeah” He nodded to himself confirming his story. “It really is, one eye doesn't show what you see with the other. I’m fucking blind, now. Can only see one side of life, can’t I?” He turned to you, staring. Under his confusing metaphor, he was talking common sense, and it wasn’t difficult for you to decrypt his code as you knew the character.

What he was saying was simple, the experience with Tommy & the Italians made him insensible to the things that used to interest him before. Business and power weren’t things he cared about now.

You silently nodded before sitting right next to him. You put a palm onto one of your eyes and looked to the sea, searching for the screaming birds. Once you found one, you rushed your hand under your dress, to the inside of your thighs, your hand came out with another gun that you pointed straight forward before shooting.

A bird’s helpless scream was heard before Alfie’s mouth opened. “Damn, woman. You still got this.”

“You just gotta picture what’s behind the black spot, Alfred. You fucking draw the lines in your head, because you’ve seen them. They’re here, somewhere in your mind, you just gotta draw them.” You muttered to his ear and he let out an “Um.” before trying to also shoot a bird.

(...)

When Y/L/N's foot touched the gravels of Small Heath’s ground, each women’s head turned to her as a disturbing silence spread over the crowd. She got out of the car when Lizzie opened her mouth, catching the attention of Polly, “He’s fucking her.” She spat with disgust, her eyes filled with jealousy and fear of losing Thomas once again.

Once a month, the peaky girls joined the reunion of women in Small Heath��s streets. This meeting's purposes were to one, show men that women, too, could gather, and second, to scare the institutions and politics about the numbers of women ready to fight for their rights. It was originally organized by Jessie Eden, a communist & feminist leader, but quickly was taken over by Y/F/N and her organisation.

Deleting the "communist" part of this meeting surely helped women gathered even more as they knew they weren’t directly taking sides in political matters, so the risk of getting arrested was low.

Polly’s eyes went from Lizzie to Y/N, who was shaking hands with some women wearing a soft smile along with a determined gaze. “Saw her once, going out of Tommy's office.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Every woman he be fucking went to his office.” She seemed fed-up, one of her feet angrily taping the ground back and forth.

“What business does Tommy have with a feminist?” Pol’ utterly murmured to herself, frowning. What was her surprise when she recognized the other woman coming out of the car, being none other than Ada.

The Thorne, initially Shelby woman, stood right next to Y/N, her brown hat set down on her finger waved hair. She wore her cream woollen coat with fur on her neck and ends of sleeves with pale rose heels. Her nails were bordeau-painted and complimented the red of her lips.

Polly never thought of Ada being interested in anything but communism, but here her niece was, and the thing that hit the Gray woman the most was that Ada seemed to belong there, talking to women and shamelessly shaking their hands. She wasn’t as reserved and distant as she usually was when around people.

“Let’s get out of here.” Polly started to walk away.

Lizzie frowned, “No reunion today?” She seemed relieved, she will not have to face the blonde woman that troubled her most lately.

“No reunion today.” Pol responded. She didn’t want to learn anything from Ada’s activities by spying, but she’ll surely try to draw it out of her later.

(...)

“You what?”

“Ada, sit.” You motioned to the nearest chair.

After the reunion, they both went to the house you bought for the organisation. It wasn’t big, nor elegant. It was a simple Small Heath’s house reconverted in an office.

If you wanted to stand a chance in changing the traditional standards toward women’s place in society, you needed to expand your organisation. You would put cabinets at each corner of the streets if needed. Women needed to know they stood a chance, they needed to know they weren’t alone in their battle and they needed to know they are protected, and that part, you made sure to honour.

“No, I’m not going to fucking sit. You didn’t talk about abducting somebody’s daughter, Y/N!”

Even if you didn’t have the police in your pocket, Tommy did, and their deal gave you the assurance you'll be able to run your business the way you wanted to. It was always better to have someone else command people to leave you alone than you using your high social status to get what you wanted. This way, if things went bad, it wouldn’t be you that’ll take the blame.

You sighed while raising your brows at Ada’s reaction. You pulled out your cigarette case and lit one that you handed her. Thorne took it and went to sit on the sofa, leaning her back to get comfortable.

“Damn, you’re just like him.” Ada let out, glancing at you who let out a “Huh?” of confusion.

You were intently looking at her as she also seated on the couch in front of you. You ignited yourself a cig and puffed on it, waiting for the other woman to process the information of you abducting Gina Gray.

“It’s like I’m in a meeting with Tommy.” She sighed. “It’s always about business and I can’t read him.”

In other words, you didn’t need Tommy to keep the police away from your activities, you could do it yourself if you wanted to. But taking care of this yourself meant to jeopardize each person in your organisation, and you couldn’t afford to risk it all.

“I saw you leaving the library with one of my women.” You blatantly let out, smoking your cig.

Ada frowned and shifted her position, she was uncomfortable. “She’s interested in communism.” She tried to defend herself as her cheeks reddened.

“I’m not judging you, I’m showing you it’s not always about business.”

“I was talking about you, not me.”

“This organisation is me, Ada, and you’re in it now. I know everything I need to know about it and I do everything I need to do for it.” You leaned towards the brown-haired woman.

In fact, it wasn’t at all about the expensive jewellery, nor the luxurious heels. It was about you having a family you cared about even if your kin weren’t blood-related.

Even if Ada understood what the woman in front of her meant, she couldn’t help but to roll her eyes, she heard this speech many times before, upon her brother’s lips. “Yeah, totally Tommy.” She tilted her head to the side. “You’re always avoiding the subject when I talk about him.”

“He’s not my business.”

“Lizzie would argue otherwise.” Ada raised a brow at you, meaning she knew what happened when you and Lizzie first met in Tommy’s office.

You chuckled, crossing your legs.

“What is it between my brother and you?” She asked.

“You’re bored, Ada. That’s why you want the details. Get back with that woman you found and spend time together, huh?” You dismissed the Shelby woman. And this time, Ada scoffed because Tommy once told her the exact same thing about her being bored.

You gained composure again and straightened back up, “You with me on that or what?” Your tone suddenly went serious again, and Ada’s expression changed.

“Why do you ask about my opinion, don’t you like giving orders all the time?” Ada teased the Y/E/C eyed woman. Y/L/N liked that about the Shelby sister, she was always pushy without being aware.

“Stop being petty, Ada. You’re more of a thinker rather than a doer.” She dismissed the remarks.

“So why do you want my help in the first place?” Ada pondered, confusion in her eyes. The things Y/N struggled to understand was how Ada didn’t see the potential that resided in her. She would always diminish herself and her power for some reason when Y/L/N thought of her as a force of nature that begged to shine.

“I just need that pettiness and fearlessness of yours. Like a kind of representative.”

“Of you?”

You shook your head. “Representative of the organisation.”

“It’s Michael’s wife and I’m a Shelby, meaning she’s family.”

“You’re a Thorne, Ada. And these fucking people out here don’t give a fuck whose side you’re on. They’ll kill you whenever they get the occasion to. I know you don’t like this, but it’s a Shelby I need on this field.” You were pointing your index at the windows, leaning toward Ada.

“You know Gina's people?” Ada exclaimed, raising her hands in exasperation.

You tilted your head to the side to confirm, your eyes deeply in Shelby’s.

“Am a Thorne or a Shelby on the field?” Ada raised a brow to you.

“Both are strengths.”

(...)

You were sitting at the counter of the Garrison, sharing a drink with Arthur when the doors opened on Tommy. You didn’t see him come your way, but Arthur did. He glanced at his brother and grabbed his own drink before joining people elsewhere ignoring your presence.

You looked at him, frowning, and that’s when you turned around you noticed Tommy’s presence. You rolled your eyes at him. “You like to scare off my dates?” You sat back down, sipping on your drink.

“I like the dress,” Tommy said, ordering a whiskey. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, but God knows it was because of the look he gave you while entering the pub that Arthur went away.

“Yeah?” You questioned quite surprised Tommy noticed you weren’t dressed as usual. “It’s different from the suits.” You added, seeing he wasn’t going to pursue the conversation.

The blue-eyed man glanced at Y/N's drink. “You drink rum now?” He grabbed his cigarette case and ignited one before handing it to the woman that gladly took it, a smile on her lips. He lit another one for himself.

“You’re alcoholic enough to tell the difference between whiskey and rum without tasting it?” Your suave voice made him look at you as clenching his jaw at your remark, this was all you would get from him.

“I’ve met with Mr Solomons, I thought it was the least I could do to buy some bottles of his.” Tommy’s eyes that were staring at Y/N's lips went up in a hurry when hearing her confession.

“You did what?” Thomas turned so his body faced the woman, his eyes anchored deeply in hers.

He was never so sure about your intentions, nothing was ever sure with you, whereas it was your feelings or what was in your head. And your unreadable face didn’t help a bit.

“I’m drinking rum, now.” You raised your brows at him, cheerfully.

The warmth your smile ignited in him wasn’t enough to make him forget about what you just said. Tommy’s lids fluttered as he remained silent, blankly looking at you. He was aware you thought of Alfie to run the south, as well as himself, but he didn’t expect you to be so direct and visit Alfie Solomons that fast.

“Stop looking at me like that, Tommy. You knew about Alfred and me.”

A wave of questions flowed through his mind, from the tender tone you worded Solomon’s name to the hidden message behind your words. What did you mean by he and you? Something was screaming at him that your relationship went beyond business at a certain point.

His brows raised. “Alfred, eh?” He scoffed, turning back to the counter, puffing on his cig.

He suddenly remembered the war records, informations hitting him like thunderbolts. You were in the same section. Alfie was the Captain of a battery in the artillery where you were sent. You knew each other.

“I also made him talk about the little arrangement you didn’t tell me about.” You let out dismissively. You weren’t blaming him for not telling you he asked Solomons to send his men to create a riot when Mosley will do his speech, you simply voiced your surprise. You thought he trusted you and were deceived to discover that he, in fact, did not.

A minute that seemed to last centuries passed, and you glanced at him. You were silently smoking as he was deep in his thoughts, not even looking at you.

“Well, it seems I’m not aware, no.” His voice was deep and he coughed before drinking his whiskey, his icy eyes looking straight forward to him.

You squinted your eyes in confusion before realizing he didn’t listen to you, he was still on that Alfred thing.

“You don’t listen to me.” You got up, blankly looking at him.

Tommy feigned not to see you, but when you raised a hand to his that was leading his cup to his mouth, a shiver ran down his spine in anticipation.

Even if he wanted to ignore you or how you made him feel, his body betrayed him.

You tenderly grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm towards you. Your piercing eyes met with his cold ones, as you dangerously neared your face.

Y/N ended up connecting the tip of their nose before slowly teasing his lips with hers. He was looking into your soul hidden in your iris and you were doing the same, you were the same.

You might be using flirt along with charm to get what you wanted from men, but with Thomas, it wasn’t the same. He had the exact same hold on you that you had on him, and both could feel it when in an intimate moment.

Their intimacy wasn’t simply about sex, a hunger due to an innate desire or need, no. It began the minute they would shamelessly dive into the being of the other. When he was undressing your soul with the most usual look.

You ultimately sealed your pleading lips together, considering they stayed apart for too long. Their warm breaths intertwined as both of you forgot everything around you, this moment belonged to no other than you, this instant was yours.

You could pretend you weren’t emotionally involved as long as you wanted when alone. But you couldn’t lie when in front of him. You didn’t feel the need to. You could just be yourself, it was more than enough there, at the mercy of his fingers.

Out of breath you pulled away, you opened your eyes to Tommy’s one looking straight at you again, and that made you laugh. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your rare giggles.

Nothing needed to be said when your eyes were connected, as well as nothing needed explanation when your lips were sealed, you were him and he was you. The urge of feeling your inner worlds collide again, Y/N came kissing him some more, to Tommy’s greatest pleasure.

“I know about using Alfie's men.” You murmured without leaving his lips, and he nodded slightly.

“I knew you would find it one way or another.” He answered. One of his hands went to your back as he was fondling you with his thumb above the fabric, he pulled you closer to him as your fingers were passing over his lips in a tender way.

You hit his chest with your other hand, realizing he wittingly kept his deal with Alfie from you just so you would get a little mad. It was his way of teasing you about the fact you cared.

He was purring under your touch when the doors opened. Polly’s eyes directly dropped on Tommy and the librarian before quickly glancing around the pub, meeting with Arthur’s. They both marked a pause and looked back to the two bill & cooing birds...

It wasn’t Tommy’s type to be that open about his relationship with a woman, but Polly already knew what was in his mind. He was convincing himself it was solemnly business, as with the other women he works with, but she knew he was starting to fall in love without even noticing it.

You both got back to reality and pulled away when Pol walked to you, going back to your respective drinks as if nothing happened. She placed herself in between you two, forcing you to take a step aside.

Tommy coughed, looking into his drink as if there was the most interesting thing in there as Y/N grabbed her things, she then started to walk away. And without even looking back, she passed the Garrison’s door.

Polly was staring at Thomas, her words useless in this situation. He glanced towards her and quickly went back to drinking, he wasn’t going to have that conversation with her.

It was Arthur, coming back to the counter that brought up the previous display between his brother and the librarian, “See Polly, my brother got another singing bird.” He was smiling before encountering Tommy’s eyes telling him to shut up, making his smile fade.

“And what you think it is, Thomas? Business?” Her deep trembling voice made him close his eyes a long time as he sighed. “It is love, Arthur.” She glanced at the man behind the counter. “You’re brother’s in love.” She continued, leaning to Tom, dramatically making him know in what he trapped himself.

He opened back his eyes and firmly dropped his fist on the wooden board in a thud, coughing away her words.

The Peaky Blinders head drank from his drink before quickly glancing to the doors you passed minutes ago, lost in thoughts. And as he was sure to think with his head, Polly knew he was thinking with his heart.

(...)

The man was walking slowly, each of his steps was heavy as the whistling escaping from his lips echoed on the concrete walls.

Ada that was on the other side of the wooden door looked through the window, trying not to overthink this situation. Since her first day as a book counsellor under the management of Y/N's organisation, she was never given major tasks. Rather kept at the very back of everything illegal.

But these past few days, she noticed Y/N was taking her to the important reunions, and Y/N's right hand, Ana, had been ordered to introduce Ada to “the work” as Y/L/N called it.

She didn’t know why it was her that had to meet with Gina’s father as Y/N was the one knowing what she needed from him, but Thorne kept away any negative thoughts, focusing on what needed to be done.

The door opened and a tall man entered. He was wearing a creamy long jacket, beige pants. Under the jacket, Ada glimpsed a shirt topped by a Roman collar similar to the priests’. His arms were crossed in his back.

He was pretty imposing, with large shoulders. Even under the fabrics, his browny chest and body could be seen.

Her gaze went up to his face, encountering his deep hazel coloured eyes staring straight at her. He got little eyes, their corner dropping as if he was sad. But she knew this type of man didn’t feel that emotion. Even if his iris were warm coloured, his gaze was cold, almost as if he wasn’t alive anymore, his eyes didn’t shine, they were glassy.

All those informations made Ada nervously gulp, continuing to examine the man’s face.

He had thick straight brows and he wore his brown curly hair slick on the side, one curl falling down his forehead.

He didn’t close the door behind him and walked to her until he was inches away. “You’re not Y/N.” His deep hoarse voice worded. And his remark made her instantly roll her eyes at him.

“Just sat, already. Can I offer you a drink?” Of course, she wasn’t Y/N, if he knew her, he would know it wasn’t as simple as that to meet with her.

“I don’t drink.” He squinted his eyes.

“Well, I do.” She turned to the counter to pour herself some whiskey and gladly started to sip on it as going to sit down. On his side, the man was walking in the room, stopping himself from time to time to examine the objects and frames he was surrounded by. “Is this your house?” He was fidgeting with a woman’s body paperweight.

“Your daughter doesn’t seem to be delighted by the fact you’re here.” She let facing him head-on.

He turned to her as she was staring at his face fearlessly. He delicately dropped the paperweight and went sitting down in the armchair in front of the brown-haired woman that followed his every move with her gaze.

“How’s your son? Mrs--” He feigned to search for her last name, but Ada knew he wanted her to understand that whoever she might be, he could get to her and her family if he decided to.

Of course, it wasn’t Ada’s house, but everything was made to make him believe so. They put some of her personal photographs with her son along with other personal effects.

“Thorne. Ada Thorne. And my son’s alright.”

This way, he will think he has the advantage over her, and if he wants to try anything, this is this house that will be targeted. But in fact, this house was one of the many business properties Y/L/N owned in the neighbourhood.

“Oh my.” He chuckled, raising his brows. “She got political alliances.” He crossed his legs and leant backwards in the chair, his arms laying on each of the armrests.

“You’re interested in politics Mr Rice?”

The man gave a faint smile hearing she knew about him more than he knew about her.

“Everything’s politics, Mrs Thorne.” He raised his gaze to her. He wasn’t being pushy or aggressive, but the atmosphere around him was heavy. His presence made her uncomfortable, and if she wasn’t a Shelby, she’d be unable to face him and stand the stare.

She nodded to him, thinking he answered right.

“I’m no longer in business, Y/L/N knows that very well. I left my brother in charge, it is him you need to see.” He was choosing his words meticulously, and each sentence he spoke was filled with unsaid things.

Not only was he implying that Y/N might be incompetent cause she picked the wrong guy, but he underlined the fact it was a family business, meaning abducting his daughter, wasn’t the best idea.

For a second, she thought her boss may have committed an error by forcing this Mr Rice to come to England, but she was quick to understand he was trying to destabilize her.

“Did you come all the way from Chicago to tell me I need to address another man? Wouldn't it be more intelligent to tell that in a call? ” She raised a brow, and now she was the best match for this meeting.

The man remained silent as he was smiling again, understanding his strategy will not work with her.

“It’s not about a man, not your brother, not you. It’s about Gina, your daughter, using your own methods to manipulate her husband to take control of something bigger than her, something she couldn’t even manage to take care of if she succeeds at having it. But we both already know, in reality, it’s your brother using her.” She returned him his evil smile before tilting her head. Her words sounded like bombs in the man’s ears. Acknowledging the fact his brother might use Gina for his own needs made Mr Rice gritted his teeth as one of his hands clenched into a fist.

He had been trying to get into her head, manipulating her into believing their actions were useless and that nothing could be done about the plan his daughter and Michael had. But being a Shelby as well as a Thorne, Ada knew how to handle those types of people.

“Well, you saw right through me. I see now why Y/N chose you.” He raised both his hands in admittance of his defeat.

Even if the man in front of her seemed harmless, she didn’t want to stay alone with him any longer. He was peculiar, from the way he was standing to his aura, she knew Gina's father was a weasel. She could read in his eyes he was lurking for the moment she'd let down her guard to get to her.

“Now you will meet with her.” Ada decided it was the end of this interview, surprising herself into taking such a decision. Maybe Y/N wanted her to do something more?

She gasped when getting up, which helped her get her mind clear. She understood her role was to make him realize he wouldn’t escape until they have what they wanted from him.

She went to the table, writing an address, a day and an hour on a piece of tissue paper. She then walked to the bearded man and handed him the fabric.

“Now business can begin…” She paused, keeping him from taking the paper. He glanced at her, sighing. “And leave your shenanigans at the door for this meeting, bring your will to cooperate instead... She way worse than me.”

(...)

*Shelby Company Limited*

Tommy opened the door to his office, he intended to walk towards his desk when hearing a low voice. “Arthur asked whose side I’m on.”

He turned around to a curled up Polly in the chair at the corner of his dark office. She wasn’t facing him, her body was halfway turned, as well as her face, leading her to look at him with side-eyes.

He didn't need to ask her what she was talking about. Since the meeting where Michael offered to run the business family, taking Tommy's place, she was distant, as if thinking about her son's proposal.

Tom surmised tonight was the time she'll give her final answer.

It was raining, the wind violently slapped the windows as well as the raindrops, the outside storm perfectly reflecting the conflictual atmosphere settled between the two. The climate deprived the office of any light, but a shy desk lamp faintly illuminated the place.

He took off his black gloves, throwing them on the table separating them. He then sighed and went sitting on the chair, raising his gaze to her, waiting for her to continue to speak.

“There will be a war, and one of you will die.” Her deep trembling voice along with the lapping of the rain on the windows added to the dramatic atmosphere.

Tommy sighed, he knew she was right. He was, indeed, waiting for a war. “But which one I cannot tell.” Her black eyes were staring straight into Tommy’s blue one.

He let out a “Hum.” surmising she’ll not add anything else. He nodded to himself, “he’s gonna do it anyway.” he continued. It wasn’t a question, this would explain her presence in his office that late in the night.

“Yeah.” She responded.

“You should know, if Aberama takes his side I will kill him.” Tommy said upfront.

She looked down before raising her gaze to him again, “And what about me?” She wasn’t blinking, patiently waiting for the confirmation of Tom’s determination to stop her son.

Tom paused, he was aware she was trying to know his intention and he was debating within himself if he could afford to let her know.

“I’ll do what I have to do, Pol” He dropped his definite sentence, he didn’t move his stare or body a bit. He didn’t need to let her know how determined he was, it was already showing.

“Kill… And kill.” She sang with a low voice, slowly blinking. She seemed tired of this situation, as well as tired of it all.

“It’s the only way to make people listen” He nodded his head to the side as murmuring his words.

Since her near-death experience with the noose, she wasn’t the same Polly that he knew. She was only a mere shadow to the person she once was. But this time she seemed truly fed-up.

The thunder was rumbling outside when she got up with slow movements. The sound of her high heels nearing him mixed with the sound of the rain racing down the windows.

She grabbed an envelope as well as her drink. “Soon, you will have a stage to stand on. Millions of people will listen to you. And you will run the country like you run this family.” Her head was held high.

She was looking down on Tommy.

He knitted his brows, holding the stare even if he had to raise his head to meet her. “It appears to be what people want.” He nodded to himself, trying to convince him, or her of what he was saying.

“But not me.”

He blinked.

“Not anymore.”

He blinked again.

“My resignation.” She concluded while dropping the envelope on the table before him. She also put down the empty cup and looked at him some more before turning her back at him and walk toward the exit.

He stared at the empty space in front of him where the woman used to stand prior as he heard her steps receding. Tommy inhales deeply before sighing, dropping his head forward. Her words hit him as bullets would’ve. She was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind. Polly had always been more to him than what he ever showed, and the fact she let him down now did hurt him.

Tommy grabbed his gun from his shoulder holster under his suit jacket and looked at it while exhaling. He moved his hand, turning the gun on both sides, looking at it as looking at a let-out.

Nothing would stop him from founder now. He could embrace his demons and play how he wanted.

Following Chapter ❱

#tommy shelby x reader #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n

111 notes · View notes

fanimesenseiwrites · 3 years

Text

Kidnapped to Hell (pt. 5)

When Satan walked back into the common room, Barbatos and Diavolo were back in there talking with Lucifer and Solomon.

Satan walked over to them, focusing on Solomon.

Solomon looked at Satan first, but the other three looked at him as well.

"Don't bother Hoshiko about their abduction again," Satan's tone was somewhere between concerned and threatening.

Solomon frowned. "Satan, we need-"

"No, you don't. At least not from Hoshiko. Whatever you need to know, Barbatos can figure it out for you," Satan insisted.

"A statement from Hoshiko themself would solidify a case against their captors," Lucifer interjected.

Satan glared at Lucifer. "Do not retraumatize Hoshiko any further," his voice was cold and commanding.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and placed his hands on his hips. "Is that a threat?"

"That depends on you."

Lucifer's eyes flashed red as a warning.

"Lucifer," Diavolo spoke soothingly.

Lucifer huffed but didn't look away from Satan.

Diavolo looked at Satan. "I'd like to ask Hoshiko for their cooperation, but if they deny me then I promise that we won't bother them anymore."

Satan huffed. "Fine. But they're sleeping right now so you'll have to wait."

Diavolo nodded. "That's fine, they deserve the rest."

Satan nodded and went to sit down.

Diavolo watched him sit down then looked at Solomon. "Lucifer, Barbatos, and I are leaving to go apprehend the demons who kidnapped Hoshiko and interrogate them. I would like you to stay here in case Hoshiko decides that they're ready to talk."

Solomon nodded. "I can do that."

"And make sure Hoshiko isn't left alone, at least not in the house. I'm sure they're fine alone in their room but not everyone can leave house all at once," Diavolo clarified.

"That's understandable, we don't know if Hoshiko is safe yet," Solomon mused.

"Exactly," Diavolo concurred. "Alright, we'll be leaving."

Solomon nodded.

Diavolo left with Lucifer and Barbatos following close behind him.

Solomon sighed and went and sat down next to Asmodeus.

"Are you alright?" Asmo asked him.

Solomon looked at him and smiled. "I'm fine."

Asmo narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. "Hm... if you say so."

"I do," Solomon insisted.

Asmo rubbed his thigh. "I think everything will be okay. Hoshiko is strong."

Solomon glanced at Asmo. "Of that I have no doubt."

"Then where are your doubts?" Asmo asked as he rest his chin on Solomon's shoulder.

"Not doubts, just concerns. I just wonder who would do this to Hoshiko; they haven't been practicing magic long enough to make enemies like that."

Asmo frowned. "Yeah..."

Solomon was quiet after that, afraid to say out loud what else was on his mind.

Then there was a sharp tapping against one of the windows.

Everyone looked toward the noise.

There was a crow sitting on just the other side of the window. It tapped the glass with its beak once again.

"Uh, Mammon? Is that one of yours?" Levi asked.

"Uh, yeah. I think so," Mammon replied as he stood up and walked over to the window. He unlatched the window and pushed it open. "Hey, what's up?"

The crow chittered excitedly.

"What?! Whaddya mean they're walkin' into the forest?!"

The crow squawked and flew off.

Mammon jumped out the window and ran off after the crow.

"Oi! Mammon!" Satan called before quickly following him through the window.

Everyone else got up to follow them, but opted to go out the back door instead.

When everyone else caught up to Mammon, they found him talking to three crows sitting on a branch just above eye level.

"How did three of ya lose one human?!"

One of the crows squawked and chittered.

"Mammon, what happened?" Solomon asked through heavy breathing.

Mammon looked at Solomon. "Hoshiko just walked out into the woods, all by themself! And these guys lost 'em because they got distracted by something shiny!"

Levi snickered. "That sounds familiar."

"This ain't funny! There's shit out here that could kill Hoshiko!" Mammon was really serious.

Levi was immediately worried once he was reminded of the dangers that lurked in the forest. "Well then... let's split up to look for them."

"Good idea," Beel complimented.

Mammon nodded and stuck his pinky fingers in his mouth then whistled loudly.

Four more crows appeared and landed on the branch with the other three.

"Alright, everyone take a crow with ya while ya search. They can follow ya from up above and help us keep in touch with each other."

Mammon's seemingly sudden competence was throwing everyone for a loop.

Mammon changed to his demon form. "I'll search from up high." With one swift flap of his wings, he was in the air.

One of the crows flew up to follow Mammon.

"... was that actually Mammon?" Belphie asked, actually serious.

"Right? That was kinda hot how he took charge like that," Asmo mused.

Satan smacked Asmo's arm before walking off to start searching for Hoshiko.

"Ow!" Asmo whined as he rubbed his arm then walked off with Solomon.

Belphie looked at Beel. "I think I know where Hoshiko is."

"You do?" Beel asked as he tilted his head curiously.

Belphie nodded. "Follow me." He headed off in a specific direction.

Beel and two crows followed him.

They soon came upon a meadow full of nightshade blossoms.

Sitting in the middle of the meadow was Hoshiko. They were wearing their RAD track suit and sitting with their knees pulled to their chest.

Beel told the crows to go tell everyone else that they had found Hoshiko while Belphie walked over to them.

"Hoshiko," Belphie spoke sweetly.

Hoshiko looked at him and smiled slightly. "Hey."

"You really like our spot, huh?" Belphie asked.

"Yeah, it's peaceful. Makes me wanna sleep," Hoshiko explained.

"That's not a bad idea," Belphie told them as he sat down next to them. "You know, everyone was looking for you."

Beel walked over and sat on the other side of Hoshiko.

"I haven't even been out here that long," Hoshiko said, a little confused.

"Yeah, Mammon's crows ratted you out," Belphie explained.

Hoshiko sighed. "I see."

Then Mammon flew down and landed right in front of the three of them. "Hoshiko!"

Hoshiko stood up. "Hey Mammon."

Beel and Belphie stood up as well.

Mammon hugged Hoshiko tightly then held them at arms length so he could look them in the eyes. "What're ya doin' out here?! You know there's dangerous shit out here!"

Hoshiko pulled away from him, startled and taken aback by him yelling at them. "I- I couldn't sleep so..."

The rest of the boys showed up at that point.

"So ya run off into the forest full of dangerous beasts all by yourself?! What if something had happened to you?!" Mammon was very animated with his lecture, continually using his hands to motion with.

Hoshiko looked down at the ground and tried really hard not to cry. "... It couldn't be any worse than what already happened to me."

Mammon's arms fell to his sides. He was at a loss for words and it seemed everyone else was too.

"I mean, I can't sleep 'cause as soon as I close my eyes I'm plagued by nightmares... it doesn't matter that I'm not in the eight circles anymore because they're still in my head."

Mammon reached for Hoshiko's hand.

Hoshiko took a step back and crossed their arms, preventing him from grabbing it.

Mammon looked at Hoshiko, a little shocked by their actions.

Hoshiko wouldn't look at him. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to be alone..."

"Why?" Mammon asked, his voice much more gentle this time. "Did we do somethin' wrong?"

Hoshiko couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "No... you just..." Their voice cracked. They wiped their eyes with the cuffs of their sleeves. "You guys wouldn't hurt me right?"

"Never," Beel declared immediately.

Hoshiko looked at him and nodded, tears still streaming down their face.

"Why do you even think you have to ask?" Mammon asked.

"Because..." Hoshiko sniffed, trying to regain enough composure to speak.

Satan walked over to Hoshiko and rubbed their back to try and offer them support, knowing full well what they were about to say.

Hoshiko took a deep breath. "When I was in the eight circles... it looked like to me... that it was y'all that were torturing me..."

The brothers were all stunned silent.

Mammon changed back to his human form and stepped close to Hoshiko. "I'd never hurt you."

Hoshiko looked up at him.

"I don't think I could live with myself if I did." There was a strange sort of sadness in Mammon's eyes that made Hoshiko want to cry some more.

Levi stepped forward. "You're the best in real life friend I've ever had. I'd have to be under some kind of mind control for hurting you to even cross my mind."

Hoshiko chuckled and wiped away the tears that fell.

Asmo walked over to Hoshiko and stroked their cheek. "How could I ever want to ruin a face or soul so beautiful?" He offered a sympathetic smile.

Hoshiko smiled slightly and nodded.

Beel gripped Hoshiko's shoulder.

Hoshiko looked at him.

"I only want to use my strength to protect you, never hurt you," he assured Hoshiko with intense eyes.

Hoshiko placed a hand over his and squeezed it.

"I was ready to fight Lord Diavolo over not protecting you, so I think you know how I feel about the subject," Belphie told Hoshiko.

Satan nodded in agreement.

Hoshiko chuckled but still kept crying.

"Why are ya crying? Don't ya believe us?" Mammon asked, worried.

"No, I do... just..." Hoshiko sniffed. "Y'all are the best family I've ever had."

Mammon immediately moved in to hug Hoshiko.

Hoshiko hugged back and gripped his jacket desperately.

"Let's go back to the house, yeah?" Mammon murmured sweetly.

Hoshiko pulled away and nodded.

Mammon started to lead the way back to the house.

Before Hoshiko could start to walk beside him, Solomon took up walking next to them.

"I'm sorry I was bothering you to talk about what happened to you earlier," Solomon promptly apologized.

Hoshiko looked at him. "I forgive you, and I'm sorry I got so hostile about it earlier."

"I see now why you did."

Hoshiko nodded and took Solomon's hand.

Solomon smiled slightly and laced their fingers together.

Asmo stepped in to walk on the other side of Hoshiko, taking their free hand in his.

Hoshiko looked at him.

Asmo leaned over to kiss their forehead.

Hoshiko smiled and leaned their head on Asmo's shoulder.

When they got back to the house, Solomon messaged Diavolo to update him about Hoshiko.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

#fairly tame chapter #mostly angst and drama #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me levi #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #obey me Satan #obey me solomon #obey me mc #my obey me mc #hoshiko higure #my work #my writing #obey me fanfic

17 notes · View notes

wordstrings · 4 years

Note

Just my own two (very evil) cents - the Other Castiel loves making Sam giggle - just LOVES making that deep voice get high-pitched and talking (pleading) faster than a caffeinated chipmunk on helium. And getting Sam to say whatever truly nutter-butter crazy thing he can cook up (and that can be a LOT) - but it's never anything that would be bad for Sam's self-esteem. "I want you hear you say you enjoy this." "I want to hear you say you love being able to laugh."

Ohhhhh, that’s more cruel for Sam than an interrogation scene for information he doesn’t even know. Which they’ve tried, but sometimes trauma rears up in unexpected ways and brings things to a crashing halt. And AU!Cas isn’t great at aftercare, which really shouldn’t have been a surprise. It takes a couple of weeks for Sam to feel up to trying anything again. But they both take it slow, and Castiel gets more practice in being careful. (He’s still not tender, by any means, but he eventually finds a balance that works for them.)

It doesn’t take long after that for Castiel to realize there’s a new battle in the wake of that experience. Perhaps it’s not actually new, but it’s raw: Sam believes that their arrangement isn’t okay. That it’s some wrong thing that feels good only because Sam is wrong. (“Like the demon blood,” Sam admits quietly, once.) This Castiel may be sharp and jagged and welded together at odd angles, but he’s still an angel with an existentially cracked chassis. The “too much heart” has been burned out of him more times than can be counted, but there’s a twisted, remnant tumor of it that beats unevenly in the dark recesses of his being. (In time, it will grow, like it always has, like it always will.)

So their arrangement begins collecting strange add-ons. The safeword becomes “felicity,” then “paragon,” then “impeccable.” One of their games starts happening more often, the one where Sam will discover a folded scrap of paper somewhere in his daily path with an innocuous phrase scrawled on it, and later – whether that day or the next week – that phrase is wrung out of him in cascades of laughter. One paper Sam finds that makes him really raise his eyebrows upon reading it is: “Laughter is the best medicine.”

He manages to handle that one. But two days later, it’s “I deserve the things I want,” and Sam… almost safewords instead. Yeah, he’s surprised, too. He just… can’t make his mouth say it. Everything just gets too tangled up.

After that, the phrases go back to nonsense for a while: “Honey and milk are under my tongue,” and “My navel is like a round goblet, which wanteth not liquor,” and “I am fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners.” They would make him laugh, but well, he’s already laughing anyway when he wheezes them out.

(It takes a few more clues to figure it out, and a double-check with Google, but eventually Sam asks, “Hey, why are you making me quote Song of Solomon?” after he gets his breath back. Castiel just hands him a bottle of water and doesn’t reply.)

The next one is “I am worthy.”

By now, Sam’s tongue is a little less uptight. It’s still a bit weird, but he says it – once he’s been tickled to the brink of reason, of course. He’s slightly astonished to discover his toes are still alive and attached to his body after that one.

It’s two weeks, then, until he finds a slip of paper in his underwear drawer that says “I don’t want this to stop yet” on one side, and “Thank you, that was perfect” on the other.

Brows furrowed, he decides to go find Castiel and ask… something. He doesn’t know what his question even is, but he’s not too sure about the implications here and he wants some time to process.

He’s abducted the moment he walks out of the room.

There’s a blindfold this time, which hasn’t happened since the first interrogation-gone-bad. The usual game goes hard and fast, ramping Sam’s body up to the point of desperation and holding him there until he breaks. But this time, there are feathers tracing his legs and fingertips sweeping gently across his tummy, and sure, it tickles, but it’s… kind of great? And he doesn’t have to face whatever awkwardness might be in that realization, because he can’t see, and somehow that makes him feel safely hidden even while his body is exposed.

Spilling the given phrase has always marked his defeat and the end of their sessions, but this time he works up the courage to giggle out, “I don’t want this to stop yet” while it’s still true. And rather than ending, or slowing, or speeding up, or anything – the soft barrage just keeps pace. In that moment, Sam hits euphoria.

He has no idea how long the second half goes on. The blindfold keeps him focused on nothing but the sensation, and it’s good, it’s so good. He giggles, and squirms, and laughs, and hums. He’s never been tickled like this, and he dazedly realizes that there’s something else, too, that’s not just gentle fingertips and delicate feathers. It must be Castiel’s grace, only because there’s no other explanation for the preciously soft tingling spreading through his entire body. Usually, an assault of grace is overwhelming, like sudden loud static with the volume turned all the way up. But these tingles are drowning him in pleasure. Sam writhes until his muscles give out, smiles until his cheeks go slack, laughs until his belly goes soft. He’s on another plane.

The tickly haze carries him until he’s just… tired. Heaviness weighs on his bones and he keeps drifting to dreamlike places behind his eyelids. It’s a murmur of pure satiation when he breathes, “Thank you, that was perfect.”

A rustle of wings is the only thing he senses before he sleeps.

—

Grace tickle-vibrates Sam’s ribcage like a full hive of bees, and he‘s losing his mind.

It’s been a number of sessions since his visit to that alternate plane of existence. He’s been coerced into saying all sorts of things he’d usually find embarrassing, but he hasn’t had as much difficulty with them lately, for whatever reason.

“Say it.”

He would, he wants to, but it tickles, tickles, tickles, and he can’t, he can’t.

“Say it.”

The vibration drops down a level in his ribs, and at least Sam can gasp for breath now, but the bee-buzzing suddenly reappears in his ears. Holy crap, he had no idea he could be so debilitatingly ticklish there – it’s like hundreds of fluttering moths wielding tiny electric toothbrushes have swarmed his ears, inside and out, and he squeals.

Sam can’t hear a goddamn thing past the buzzing tickle torture, but he can feel his throat crying out, “I love being tickled like this!” between wild rips of laughter.

And fuck it all, but it’s true. Maybe early on, this arrangement was more about punishing his body into submission, forcing on it something that left no choice but to be given in to, because choosing that was at least something he could control in a world so fiercely out of it. But somehow – he’s not entirely sure how –

(though Castiel is)

– it now feels more like something he chooses because he wants it, and that’s allowed.

The buzzing moths finally let up, seemingly satisfied by his proclamation. Sam shudders, certain his head will be ringing for hours, the aftermath leaving him unable to walk a straight line as if he just came off the world’s craziest tilt-a-whirl.

A scant few of the moths flit down to his navel, just to keep him giggling while his body winds down.

The blindfold keeps Sam from seeing it, but Castiel smiles.

#ask #adorable!anon #AU!Cas #drabbles #ticklish!Sam #Sam Winchester #tickling #stringswork #saAUstriel

50 notes · View notes