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padfootdaredmetoo · 7 months

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Part 5. Heart Break of the Century

The family starts to realize that the reader and Noah make a good match. Tommy and the reader begin to realize she has PTSD and start to notice how that impacts her relationships.

Thanks to everyone who wrote in about this series! I really hope that you guys enjoy! <3

Previous parts

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault/abuse, panic attacks, and anxiety about that experience. Nothing is actually described with detail, PTSD, general peaky chaos

Tommy was acutely aware that his daughter had some emotional problems. She didnt run, she wouldn't fight, she would crumple. Exposing something so broken it made his head swim with anger. He wanted to take the coward’s way out and tell Lizzie to speak to her about it. However, not even he knew the extent of how many awful things had happened to Lizzie, he knew it wasn't a topic she handled well. Having her stressed made him extremely anxious about the baby.

He lay there in bed, thankful beyond belief that you agreed to sleep in their room. That you got into bed with them, that you hadn't changed your view on the two of them. He would need to speak with John and Arthur about how they go about things.

The look that crossed your face flashed through his mind once more and flinched.

“Dad” She whispered and startled him slightly.

“Wot” He whispered back.

“I don’t hate you for what you and Lizzie went through.”

“That’s - good.” He said unsure of how to respond.

“I - I love you both.” She stuttered and his heart broke a little more if possible.

He sighed. “I love you too.”

“I’m sorry I collapsed on the floor the other day.”

“What happened to-”

“Just a lot of beatings. I don’t exactly hold back what I’m thinking, doesn't make for the best student or daughter.”

“Just beatings?” He said trying to remain calm, his fingers balled into fists at his side.

“One particular priest, he – ah” Her voice was thick and he waited to see what she wanted to say. He wouldn't push her, he would make sure no one ever pushed her for anything ever again. “He used to run his hands on me - while punishing me. Could have been a lot worse. He was, as Polly would say, touched by demons.”

Tommy lay there biting the inside of his cheek. He wasn't a good man, he didnt have words of comfort for her. He felt her move next to him. Her arms wrapped around his right arm and she pressed her face into his shoulder.

“It doesn't bother me, I just get overwhelmed when men sort of get really angry.”

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Don’t- I know it’s only because you love me.”

“Still, don't let men yell at you like that. Not even me.” The thought of Noah bossing her around, shouting at her was enough to make him light a cigarette. It’s a great example he had been setting for her. She was already confused and now-

“I won’t.”

He felt her relax and eventually listened to the both of them breathing softly. He relaxed accepting the fact that his mind would not allow him to rest tonight.

______________________________

Waking up you were relieved to feel both parents still in place beside you. Opening your eyes you found yourself still pressed against Tommy's arm, and you could feel Lizzie’s hand in your hair.

“Morning” You whispered knowing that Tommy was awake.

“Morning.” He whispered back.

“If it's allowed can I go get dressed and see if Noah’s up?”

“Fine.” He said getting up and stretching. You moved out of the room and quickly got washed and dressed in your room. You fussed over what to wear but decided that a pair of trousers and a long-sleeved top with a wool jumper would be best. Better to be practical when the enemy was afoot. You dashed to the kitchen to make some tea.

You knocked on his door and heard a muffled grumble on the other side. You slowly pushed the door open while holding two mugs of hot tea.

“Morning” You whispered before your voice got caught in your throat. He was a crumpled masterpiece. He was sprawled across the bed, sheets a mess. He was topless, and you felt your face get hot. “Oh, I have tea.”

He quickly got up and grabbed the shirt hanging on the bedpost. He pulled in on and then ran a hand through his hair. His cheeks were pink and suddenly you forgot how to breathe.

You handed him the mug and sat on the end of the bed realizing you probably should have waited for him to come downstairs.

“How did you sleep? Was everything comfortable?” You resorted to being a good host for lack of better things to say.

“Oh erm - ya, it was great.” He said taking a sip of tea. You both caught each other's eye and laughed.

“Sorry for waking you.” You mumbled into the rim of your mug.

“Not a bad way to wake up, really.” His eyes were so warm and inviting. “So what are we up to today.”

“I’m not sure, thought maybe we could go for a walk outside. Play in the snow.” Once you said it you realized how childish it was.

“They have some important meeting on today so being outside sounds nice.”

You both drank your tea and Noha put his arm around you. You leaned into his side and watched as more snow fell outside his window.

__________________

The morning was chaotic and you were grateful you had a half hour of quiet up in Noah’s room before Esme found you. You had to help with breakfast, and then everyone ate together before going in different directions.

John and Arthur were given a task in the kitchen making calls, Esme and Polly were helping Lizzie while she rested. The kids were to play downstairs for the day, and Tommy and Alfie would be in his office making more calls and strategizing.

You and Noah weren't given any instruction. You both sat quietly as everyone left the dining room.

“Guess they forgot us then,” Noah whispered and it was nice not to be the center of attention for once.

The rest of the morning passed you by sitting with Noah in front of the fireplace in your room. You both chatted and played cards, pretended to be mad when you caught the other cheating.

Eventually, you got your walk, observing the groups surrounding the house. You were looking at the various fires and wondering if everyone was warm enough when something hard hit your shoulder. Snow flicked up and landed on your cheeks making you jump.

You whirled around and Noah threw another one at you. This, much like the card games, became a brutal competition. You were both hurling snow at each other at a vicious pace. You could feel the adults looking at the both of you probably judging you but you didnt let it distract you.

You wanted this boy to surrender.

A bunch of shouting caused you to turn your head. A snowball caught your cheek and you brushed off the painful sting, eyes still focused on the commotion breaking out at one of the camps.

“Are you-”

You didnt let him finish what he was going to say, you ran towards the camp with a feeling of panic rising through you. What if the Changrettas were here? Running towards it wasn’t smart.

Noah’s arms caught you preventing you from getting any closer. You stopped and he mouthed to be quiet, you gave a nod and he let you go.

You both moved closer to the camp to see what the commotion was about. Various slurs and swears were being exchanged between the men. No real threat. Just a squabble between the Solomons and Shelbys.

Relief flooded you and you walked up to the men at the center of it. You heard Noah swear before rushing to your side.

“What’s the problem?” You looked to Johnny Dogs because you knew him the best. He answered in Romani, which seemed a bit rude but soon Noah was speaking to his men in Hebrew.

You listened carefully, wanting to make sure you could come up with a reasonable solution.

______________________________________________

“Tommy - the men are fighting. Think she’s got it under control but it’s not really her place.” Finn was hanging out of the door to his study and the anger was quickly replaced with anxiety.

Why the fuck were you outside? That was the one thing he told- ah, he didn’t actually remember giving you your tasks for the day at breakfast. Fuck. He apologized and ended the phone call he was having. He and Alfie moved out of the study.

“She’s a real trouble maker you know that - Noah never sticks his nose where he’s not supposed to. Then she comes around and suddenly he’s always-”

“Fuck off Alfie.” But they both shut up when they saw the two of them negotiating with each other. Negotiating on behalf of their people, if it was anyone else Tommy would have had to beat the living daylights out of them for overstepping.

“Now, on our end, we would like to formally apologize for any words of disrespect spoken about anyone's mother.” You spoke clearly.

“Accepted,” Noah said nodding.

“Anything else to clear up?”

“Nah,” Johnny Dogs said with a shrug.

“Well, in the future, if you insult each other make it more entertaining.” You quipped causing both sides to laugh. “No one likes being cooped up here, try to make the best of it.” Your voice was still light but it had an edge of warning everyone seemed to take seriously.

Eyes started to land on him and Alfie and they all hummed loudly in agreement. When you looked up at him your mask seemed to falter slightly. You knew it wasn’t your place to do such things, but he knew that you were just trying to be helpful.

He didnt have to tell you to go inside, you could tell what the look meant. You trudged through the snow back up to the house.

“Any problems here?” Alfie boomed his voice bouncing off of the snow.

“No.” then men mumbled or shook their heads.

“Good.” He responded before walking back up to the house with Noah.

Tommy stood outside for a long moment. Letting the adrenaline wear off. As much as he hated the boy, the two of them worked well together. If this was anyone else's daughter in the family, he would have gotten them married. Strengthened the alliance a lot more than shipping passageways to New York.

He shook the idea out of his head. You were 17, and he didnt want you to get married - ever.

___________________________________________

“Not a bad tactic down there. Very clever” Alfie gave you a pat on the back and your whole shoulder shook from the force of it. You were sat next to him at the dinner table tonight.

“Erm - Thanks.”

“Surprisingly the two of you make a pretty decent team,” He said quietly.

“Oh, yeah I think so.” You said with a blush on your cheeks. Having someone's approval made you happy.

The next few days everyone kept themselves in check. No drama or nonsense. Tommy had placed you and Noah on kid duty. Meaning there were at least five little kids between the two of you at any given movement. You were happy that Noah didnt seem to mind. He enjoyed spending time with the little ones.

You felt the tension deep in your stomach, you never got a moment alone with him. Tommy, despite being overworked and overwhelmed seemed to always have something for you to do. Then before you knew it the day had flashed by and you were back in bed with your parents. You missed your room, but you knew that both of them were at their limits.

Lizzie was in bed all day now, she moved around the room and took baths, but didnt join the family for meals. No one could figure out what was wrong with her, just kept insisting she needed to rest.

While getting ready for bed you noticed a white shirt on folded on the edge of your bed. It was a soft cotton shirt of Noah's. You breathed in his scent and hated how your body felt alive and pained at the same time. You changed into a pair of bottoms and wore his shirt hoping no one would notice. You went into your parent's room and settled in under the heavy blankets. Lizzie smiled at you with a knowing look in her eye.

You felt both far away from her having been busy all day, yet closer to her as you slept next to her.

“What’s causing these wrinklers hm?” She said running a thumb between your brow.

“Do you like Noah?” You asked. She studied your features with a type of sadness you didn't understand.

“I haven't had a chance to see much of him. Polly adores him, Esme says it will either work out or be the heartbreak of the century. She read his tea leaves though.” You let out a groan of embarrassment. “Says things look promising.”

“Great.” You whispered feeling her thumb trying to sooth over the wrinkles on your brow again.

“That’s the risk everyone has to take.” She said softly.

“I really like him.” You sighed. “I don’t want the heartbreak of the century."

“No one does, but maybe that’s not a part of your story.” She shrugged. You nodded feeling your eyes getting heavy. She continued to run her thumb across your forehead.

“Will you be alright?” You mumbled.

“Yes, I think most of this is just stress.” You nodded and quietly agreed before falling asleep.

________________

The tension only got worse as more snow piled onto Arrow house. Anxiety as your father negotiated trade deals and other nefarious things to ensure allies against the Changretta family. The stress of knowing that any of the men he makes a deal with could sell him out.

The radio says the rain was only a few days away, and a sadness filled you at the thought of Noah leaving. You loved having him and Alfie around.

Things really came to a head when you both were forgotten again. You sneaked up to your bedroom and played cards by the fire. This time it was harder to notice the way his hands brushed yours. How warm his skin was, how his features shone in the firelight.

He was losing the round and decided to switch tactics by grabbing your face and kissing you. This kiss was as heated as the one at the top of the ferris wheel. Your body hummed with life and a burning sensation that suffocated you. His hands were in your hair and you wanted to drown in him.

When his hand slipped lower to your throat you nearly jumped out of your skin. The feeling washed over you leaving you stiff as a board. Memories came in and wrapped around your mind like a vice.

It was inescapable and you moved your body with just enough urgency to just make it to the toilet. You puked hating the way your head was spinning. Noah was there apologizing looking frightened. His hands fluttered around you but you could tell he didnt want to touch you.

Embarrassment hit you and it was almost as bad as the initial panic.

“I’m sorry I just.”

“It’s alright. Can I” He motioned towards you with his hands and you gave him a nod. He flushed the toilet and sat down close to you.

“I’m sorry-” You started.

“It’s alright, I’m nervous too. I haven't done any of this before.” So he was a virgin. Your mind flashed back to Nancy Wellington in math class going off about how he’d banged a lot of older girls.

“Nancy Wellington told me you’d gotten the clap from a uni girl.” You were desperate for a distraction and blurted it out without thinking. Noah let out a laugh that calmed you down slightly.

“That’s because I turned her down, she wanted me to take her to the spring dance.” He ran his hand up and down your spine.

“What happened to you? Is it something I did or-” He deserved an answer as the boy looked tortured over the situation.

“Well, as you know I came from an orphanage. And I used to get a lot of beatings.” You looked back into the toilet and took a shuttering breath.

“People used to hit you?” His voice was riddled with anger.

“My dad also used to hit me a lot.” You added weakly avoiding the next part of the story.

“That’s - just come home with me then. Dad loves you, he won’t care. You can take Lizzie with us if she’s also getting -” His face set into a hard mask, his voice was cold and demanding.

“No! Not Tommy, my biological father.”

“You sure?" His eyes narrowed in on you and thankfully you didnt get the usual bout of anxiety.

“Positive. He looks grumpy, but he’s not with me - he’s never.” You whispered.

“Right, so the orphanage. How bad was it?” He challenged you keeping your eyes there. Telling him about this made you afraid but his reaction so far had done nothing more than make you fall for him even harder.

“He just used to choke me -run his hands all over me.” His eyes didn’t move from yours. He didn’t change his expression. He shouldered it like it was business- like he was in the trenches with you. “Still a virgin and everything.”

“Not what I’m worried about,” Noah said dismissively, his brown eyes still boring into yours.

“What are you worried about.” You said breathlessly considering throwing up again. You broke your staring contest to look back at the toilet. Your stomach was cramped up into knots.

“That you're alright, how to help you. What you need. That type of stuff.” Noah ran his hand down your back again. His hands slowly came up avoiding your neck and pulled your hair up.

“Thanks.” You said weakly.

He was so comforting that tears formed in your eyes. He made a soothing sound.

“You're just so nice to me - all the time.” He let out a little chuckle then the door opened further. Your dad’s eyes narrowed in on the situation. He left the room quickly and the panic washed up over you again. You puked again and Noah helped keep you upright. Then Esme was there fussing over the both of you.

“Was it something you ate, love?” She untied a ribbon from her wrist and tied your hair up.

“Noah.” Tommy pointed out of the room. You could tell by the boy’s body language this was going to be a fight. “Need to talk to you out here for a moment.” Tommy added quickly. Noah looked at you and you nodded hoping that it wouldnt be a mess. The anxiety from the situaton only made your stomach roll again.

Noah moved out of the bathroom and you felt Esme press a cold cloth to your forehead.

______________________

Already have the first bit written for the next part. Let me know what you guys think <3 Thanks again for all the love.

Tags: @sorrygojo @dreamy-caramel @pet1t3

#closing walls and ticking clocks #peaky blinders #Peaky blinders fic #Thomas Shelby #Tommy Shelby #Lizzie Shelby #Alfie Solomons #noah solomons #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fan fiction

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angel-inked · 9 months

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What happens when they dream about you

Original prompt

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @mollybegger-blog @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @inkwolvesandcoffee @liliac-dreamer @potter-solomons

Memories.

"Oh my God, you're so cute." You awed, recording a video of your boyfriend bottle feeding a fawn. Tommy looked up at you with a huge grin on his face. You didn't tell him where you were taking him this morning, but he seems pretty happy with your idea of a date being a petting zoo. After admiring the deer, the two of you walked around for a bit, coming across a pen of very friendly horses. Phone in your hand once again for an ungodly amount of pictures and videos. A Chestnut colored mare with a dark red colored main and tail stretched her neck towards you to ask for nose pats. "Hi beautiful." You greeted her, rubbing her nose as she shoved her head into your hand even more. "Hey, bebe, are you taking a video?" Tommy asked, making you turn to him. "Yeah, what are you up to?" You giggled, knowing Tommy well enough to know he was planning something.

"Watch this." Tommy said, gesturing to you with a carrot stick in his hand. The buckskin colt didn't seem to be pleased that he was no longer receiving ear scratches, tossing his head around, but was soon happy again when he took notice of the treats Tommy had for him, Tommy placed a carrot stick between his lips and held it out to the colt that way. Your phone camera vibrated as you laughed at the sight in front of you. The horse's lips brushed against Tommy's noise before sniffing and ultimately snatching the snack, happily crunching away on the carrot as Tommy started to laugh with you. "Oh, what a wonderful rendition of Lady and the Tramp!" You exclaimed between laughs. "Now you get to tell all your friends your boyfriend frenched a horse with video evidence." Tommy joked, making you double over laughing, giving the camera a good view of the dirt path.

You grinned and snorted at the videos and pictures of the day from your comfy spot on the couch, wrapped up safely in Tommy's arms as he snored softly against the back of your neck. Finally, you got to the picture of you and Tommy sharing a kiss at the end of your visit to the petting zoo. Tommy has never divulged much of his past to you, but you know enough to know it was traumatic, so seeing him happy and laughing never failed to fill your heart to the point of overflowing. Tommy's hands lazily explored your stomach in his sleep, making you glance over your shoulder to check on him. You had learned quickly that Tommy moving in his sleep meant he was dreaming, albeit usually a nightmare, but this time, you felt his lips curl into a smile against the soft exposed skin of your neck. "I love you." He murmured, a sleepy slur in his gruff voice. Your face broke out into a smile so hard it almost hurt. At least this time, it was a good dream.

You.

Midnight bathroom trips were a pain in the ass, quite literally. Not only did your body force itself out of sleep, but it also woke you up enough that you couldn't go back to the wonderful abyss that is sleep. You groaned as your berefeet padded down the hallway of the small apartment you shared with your boyfriend. Upon entering the bedroom, you saw a dark shape looming over Eddie's sleeping from. Swallowing stiffly, you reminded yourself that Vemon wouldn't harm you anymore than they would Eddie. The symbiote has been desperately trying to gain your trust, though that proved somewhat difficult after your first time "meeting" Vemon involved them consuming a creep whole that was trying to get handsy with you. Eddie apologized profusely and had a slight breakdown at the thought of having scared you. Insisting that Vemon liked you as much as he did and just wanted to protect you.

Vemon has proved how useful an extra set of arms can be and is more than willing to watch the cheesy romcoms and movies like "P.S. I Love You" with you that Eddie can't stand. However, your nerves still often got the better of you, and you would freeze up. Gathering what courage you could, you made your way to the bed and attempted to get comfortable under the covers. Vemon watched you silently for a moment, "your hreat rate is up." They said quietly. "No shit." You mumbled, grabbing your phone off the nightstand, knowing you'd be awake for a while, so you decided to entertain yourself. "We are sorry for scarring you." Vemon said, hanging they're head shamefully. "It was never our intent." They added. "It's fine." You replied, not looking up from your mobile. You and Vemon have gone through this more times than you could count. They apologize, and you tell them it's fine.

Vemon glanced down at Eddie and hummed lowly. Your curiosity got the better of you, so you looked between Eddie and the symbiote, "do you know what he's thinking even if he's asleep?" You questioned tentatively. "Yes, and his dreams." The symbiote replied. "He's currently very happy in the dream and is dancing with someone very special." Vemon explained. You thought about the recent impromptu dance party you and Eddie had in the living room. He spun you around to the song playing while the credits rolled on the movie you just watched, Vemon even pitched in to help Eddie lean you into a dip and pull you back up. When the song faded out, Eddie sat you up on the arm of the couch and connected your lips with his own. The memory was almost as lovely as being in the moment. It also prompted you to ask the symbiote another question, "Hey, V?" You started, Vemon perked up at their nickname. Usually, Eddie was the only one to call them that. "Yes?" Vemon's voice rumbled. "Who's Eddie dancing with in his dream?" You asked. Vemon thoughtfully looked back down at Eddie, who is still fast asleep, and is likely to remain that way for some time.

"You."

The rum made me do it.

The room was dark, and Alfie's vision was blurry, probably something to do with all that rum. As he had said once, rum is for fun and fucking init? it has led to both in this case. He was laid out on his back, and in his haze, he realized he couldn't move his arms out from under the weight of his torso. Was he tied up? Maybe. Honestly, between his drunkenness and the familiar shape of his spouse climbing on top of him, he couldn't find it in himself to care. Straddling his lap, you lightly ran your nails up and down his sides under his shirt, "Mmmm." Alfie rumbled at the shivers your actions sent through him. "Are you gonna be a good boy for me?" You asked, the rum also coating your voice. "Yes, dove." Alfie purred, part of him desperate to please you, another part was desperate to be pleased by you. The two of you seemed to cancel each other out. You were both the dominant sort, but Alfie didn't have to be drunk for you to convince him of this.

Undoing the buttons of his shirt with a lazy pace, partly due to taste testing your own products too much and partly due to not being in any particular kind of rush. Your hands explored his chest, earning a grunt from him as you massaged his pecks. "Are you enjoying that, Mr. Solomons?" You asked softly. "I enjoy anything from you, love." Alfie murmured with a rum influenced smirk on his face. Alfie's vision grew even more blurry than before, and finally his eyes fell shut either by way of the rum finally getting to him or by way of you continuing to massage his muscles, he wasn't sure.

You had been puttering around the house for most of the afternoon, and now you were looking for your husband as the house had been unusually quite for far too long for you not to wonder where your old man had buggered off to. Finally, making your way into the parlor, you heard a satisfied grunt from the couch, stopping you in your tracks. Taking steps towards the back of the red colored piece of furniture, peering over the back of it. There was your husband, Alfie, back slightly arched and head pressing a small indentation into the cushion underneath it. You narrowed your eyes as they hovered over the bulge Alfie had acquired. Safe to assume he was enjoying whatever dream he was having, you thought.

Pleasant.

A soft breeze helped waft the morning brid songs through the window of a small cottage in the English countryside, the bacon sizzled as you dropped it into your cast-iron pan. A soft sigh fell from your lips lazily as the sweet aroma of food cooking in the morning filled the kitchen. You pulled out the folding toaster and placed it over another burner with four pieces of bread, enough for two bacon and egg sandwiches. "Morning love," Farrier said as he walked in, voice gruff from waking up and rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Smells heavenly in here." He smiled. "Then, let's hope it tastes that way too." You replied, returning the smile and pecking his lips. "Would you make the tea dear?" You asked. "Of course." Farrier answered, beginning to fill the kettle with water. He stood idle for a moment as he waited for the water to boil, watching as you drifted around the room, just as gently as the breeze was, turning the pieces of toast so that both sides would be even and then doing the same with the bacon to ensure it would cook evenly.

You happen to glance his way and notice the far away look in his eyes. It usually meant he was lost in his thoughts before this look was usually accompanied by a frown as he would think of when he would be sent away again, off into war. However, now that he's not in active service anymore and attempting to settle back into civilian life, this look was usually accompanied by a smile. The kettle began whistling and thus brought him out of his thoughts. "I had a dream last night." Farrier stated. "Oh? What about?" You questioned. "This," Farrier explained with a vague gesture to the room as a whole. "Just existing, gardening, baking, all and all just a picturesque day spent together." He added, placing a tea bag in each mug. "It was pleasant." He finished. "Sounds it, pleasant, that is." You agreed.

"It made me happy," Farrier started up again as you put the sandwiches together, "to think that kind of calm actually exists after... after.. the incident at the beach." He said, mumbling the last few words. You encircled his neck with your arms, his snaked around your waist. Your lips continued in a drawn-out kiss. It wasn't the kind of kiss that was steamy and left you wanting more. It was the kind of kiss you'd give Farrier before he left, but this time, he wasn't going anywhere. You tucked your head under his chin, "Thank you." He said. "Thank you for what?" You asked, looking up at him.

"For reminding me there's still some kind of pleasant to be found in this world."

Sleep deprived.

Sweeping, clearing tables, wiping down the bar, and now doing the dishes. You were out visiting your folks on your day off, and his brothers were God knows where. So, Forrest had to close the station by himself tonight. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion. He picked up the last glass that needed putting away, and he eyed the sink tap. Largely because you'd given him an ear full when he had that bout with heat exhaustion from working out in the summer sun for too long, he filled the glass with water and took a drink, savoring the feeling of the cool liquid gliding down his throat, nothing quite like it. He ambled to a table with his cup, settling his tired body into a chair with a sigh. He was dreading the thought of hauling himself to bed tonight. His eyes were begging him to close them, and he did for a moment or two with his head resting on his forearms. His dreams took him back to when you, himself, and Howard were teenagers, and life was just a little bit sweeter.

Thanks to Howard, it was well known to your and the brothers parents that you and Forrest had been going around together for a while. Thankfully, neither family involved seemed too bothered by the fact. Your father's only reaction was, "If he hurts you, I taught you how to use a gun for a reason." Forrest had seemed to take offense to this. The very notion that he'd ever hurt you was wildly out of the question. You were an only child, though having known the Bondurant boys since you were born and being age wise smack dab in between Forrest and Howard, it didn't feel like it. Tonight, you and your parents were joining the Bondurants for dinner. The adults were chattering about everything from crops to the weather, nothing that was of particular interest to you. What was interesting to you was that Forrest, who was sitting next to you, hadn't taken his eyes off of you since everyone had gathered around the table. You smiled at him, laying a hand on his leg. "I'm gonna make a Bondurant out of you one of these days." Forrest stated, as if it were inevitable, a matter of fact. This brought a halt to the grown-up conversations, "Forrest.." his mother said with a warning tone. "What?" Forrest asked, "I'm a man of my word, I don't give my word to just anybody." He explained, looking back at you, holding your hand above the table for everyone to see. "I'm dead serious." He murmured.

A harsh shove woke Forrest up in an instant, "Jesus fucking.. Howard!" He snapped with a raspy voice, running his hands through his hair as Howard stood over his slumped over form with a smug grin on his face. "Howard, what did I tell you about tryin' to give your brothers heart attacks?" A voice called, Forrest lifted his groggy head and watched as you sat a couple of brown paper bags on the bar. "Sorry.." Howard mumbled, dropping his head and taking a few steps backward away from Forrest. You stop just short of the table momentarily, eyeing Forrest up and down. You shook your head as his eyes tried to shut on their own again. After closing the distance between Forrest and yourself, you ran a hand through his hair and glanced around at his brothers. "You and Jack better be here to close tomorrow night, or I'll get out the wooden spoon." You stated, ordered really, eyeing Howard, who merely nodded and gave no other reply. Jack didn't dare say a word.

"You and I'll get to bed earlier that way." You smiled, ushering Forrest to your room for some much needed rest.

#what happens when they dream about you #tommy conlon warrior #eddie brock/venom symbiote #alfie solomons peaky blinders #farrier dunkirk #forrest bondurant fan fiction #gender neutral reader

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cljordan-imperium · 3 months

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BACK TO THE 20'S - 4

Alfie & Rose Solomons belong to @raincoffeeandfandoms

“First, however, there are those upon this land that need protection, and I hear, Ms. Rose, that you are in need of some guards and those to teach them. It would be my divine honor to help in that matter. All female, of course, and to also help the children and women learn basic things they can do to help them should they ever be cornered. We women are not nearly as frail and fragile as the men would like to believe. It is such a joy to remind them of that, in the most painful of ways.” A devious smile formed on her lips, one that went all the way to her eyes causing the corners to crease. “And then we can talk about the beautiful ravens.” Gynnifer smiled brightly now, oh how she did love her birds!

“Yes, you mentioned your ravens, Miss Gynnifer.” Rose said, smiling over at the other woman. “You can help train my staff and bring your own? And these ravens of yours will be of help?” She thought back to the bird who had come at Gynnifer’s calling with the liquor. It did make her curious about any birds trained by her.

“I have trained many under the employ of Ms. Annabella and Mr. Jasper within New Orleans. There are things that can be done by your staff, staff I can bring, and the women and children themselves. Everything in degrees of experience and application.” Gynnifer explained patiently. She was nearly as old as Annabella, it was not the first time she had explained her methods to someone. She had trained herself at Anna and Jasper’s side long ago. Now she was their head trainer, for all things. “The ravens, ducks, and even geese that are natural to these lands can be of great use to us. Birds are often overlooked, flying over our heads. This makes them the perfect surveillance and security system for those who need early warning for when danger approaches.” She blinked slowly and inclined her head to the woman with a soft smile. “Gynnifer is known for training all our new operatives in our organization in New Orleans. I would put her trainees up against the worst of Shelby’s men any day, and I guarantee you that they would be the ones walking away.” Anna winked at Rose. Her association with Tommy was well known, so for her to make such a statement held weight. "You never send a man to do a woman's job."

"If you'd like, Mrs. Rose, I can have some of the ladies I've trained in New Orleans come over to assist while we are training staff here in England. They can stand as testament to your ladies here that they do not need to be afraid and also what proper training can do. This is true for staff and those hiding here from the evils they've endured." While Gynnifer tended to be a more reserved and serious woman, she had a softer expression and tone at the end of her statement. While she loathed, with a passion that rivaled the heat of a supernova star, those who dared to raise a hand to children or women, for those who had endured such abuse, she had nothing but compassion. In her life she had seen far too much to feel otherwise.

"If that wouldn't be too much trouble, that sounds wonderful! It would help raise their spirits to see those that are able to defend themselves and not be afraid. And for our staff, it would show that what we are proposing is possible." Rose beamed as excitement grew. Her dream of protecting the innocent and abused was growing and fully materializing.

"It will be no trouble at all. I'll send a wire tomorrow to have several pack and come over as soon as possible." Anna laid her hand on her good friend's and squeezed softly. "I know you'll adore them all."

"And I dare any man to try to burn down your headquarters again with my ladies and our ravens guarding it." A devious smile alighted Gynnifer’s lips. "They will wish it were you husband’s men they met." A wink and a smirk were cast to Rose, whom Gynnifer was becoming quite fond of.

"You mention your ravens again. I know you said they act as a warning and surveillance. We will be grateful for that while you are here, but what can be done for when you leave? Please do not think we are not grateful!” Rose inquired, trying to not sound ungrateful or demanding at the same time.

“Oh darling, we won’t leave you defenseless. Poe and Nevermore both recently had chicks. I would be more than happy to bless you with your own starter flock of ravens that are trained from birth by my people so that they are loyal to you and your staff. While we are training you all on defending yourselves, we can train you as well on raven care and rearing. You’ll have more ravens than you know what to do with soon.” Gynnifer laughed and gave her new friend a brilliant smile. She did so love introducing new people to the wonderful world of ravens. Blessing these women with a new crop of her beloved bird’s offspring would be lovely. “And once you learn how to train them, you can also give them to the women who live here so they have protection and warning when they leave. I have found, in my years of experience, that men of a certain type can be…persistent.”

There was a certain inflection on the last word that Gynnifer spoke that made it clear exactly what she meant without having to expressly specify it. Anna inclined her head towards the dark haired female, a knowing and tight smile forming on her lips. “Yes, and that is why, dear Rose, that I would only entrust your establishments here to the best of my best.” 200 years had passed since she had been Rose’s age, and she had learned and seen a lot in that time. If she could prevent another woman from experiencing it, well all the better.

****

Back at Alfie and Rose’s home, the men were still discussing liquor and smuggling. Jasper kept having to remind himself that not only was he not to eat Alfie, which he had already decided was not something he was interested in, but he was also not to have him sign over his soul. Anna really did like to spoil the demon’s fun sometimes. She really should be more appreciative of the fact he adored her.

As they sat now discussing cigar imports for Alfie, Jasper could feel the human’s eyes studying him. While not as scrutinizing and sharp as Anna’s friend Tommy Shelby, another human that was off the menu, they were just as heavy on the demon. Curious how his favorite Grigori had made friends with two humans who were so meticulous in their review of a being, yet failed to notice that neither of them were human. Even in New Orleans there was the occasional human that would figure it out, rarely with as much attention paid as Mr. Solomons was currently paying Jasper. Although, again, Alfie could not become a snack if he figured it out, so Jasper had to be very careful not to let anything slip.

Thankfully Alfie was paying more attention to the negotiations on profit sharing than anything that might give Jasper away. Since the only snacks hadn't been living for some time, there was no worry of accidentally eating something still alive. He'd learned long ago that tended to freak humans out, especially if the snack were another human.

@saltysupercomputer @blind-the-winds @pheita @writingmaidenwarrior @dreaminggoblin @outpost51 @toribookworm22 @ceph-the-ghost-writer @aziz-reads @call-sign-shark @look-at-the-soul @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick

#writeblr #my writing #my ocs #friend's ocs #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #alfie solomons #rose solomons #alfie x rose #anna & jasper #back to the 20's #writeblr community #writeblr connect #writing #fiction

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boogiewrites · 2 years

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Choking On Sapphires Masterlist Pt. 2

This is part TWO of the Choking on Sapphires Masterlist.

There are so many chapters it won't let me link them all in one post!

(Find part 1 here Chapters 1-50)

Pt. 51 She’s Gone Pt. 52 Pale Blue Eyes Pt. 53 The Rat Pt. 54 Whole Wide World Pt. 55 Wild Horses Pt.56 Knee Socks Pt. 57 Wonderful Tonight Pt. 58 I Wanna Be Yours Pt. 59 Under My Thumb Pt. 60 It Must Be Love Pt. 61 Maybe I’m Amazed Pt 62 This Feeling Pt. 63 Gimme All Your Love Pt. 64 Love Is Blindness Pt. 65 Stuck In The Middle Pt. 66 Your Sins Pt. 67 More Than Words Pt. 68 What Kind Of Man Pt. 69 The Boy I Love Pt. 70 Killer Shangri-Lah Pt. 71 Shotgun Pt. 72 Stay In My Corner Pt.73 Loverman Pt. 74 Tonight Pt. 75 Just Like Heaven Pt. 76 You’ve Got The Love Pt. 77 It Makes No Difference Pt. 78 Blue Veins Pt 79 Baddest Man Alive Pt 80 505 Pt 81 Mardy Bum Pt 82 Levee Breaks Pt 83 Baby Says Pt 84 Sleazy Bed Track Pt 85 Breakdown Pt 86 Love Interruption Pt 87 It’s too late Pt 88 It ain’t over Pt 89 Bad Company Pt 90 Right Back Pt 91 Golden Hour Pt 92 Love Her Madly Pt 93 Bigger Boys 94 The Less I Know 95 List of Demands 96 Dog Days are Over 97 Golden Dandelions

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons ff #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons drabble #alfie solomons au #alfie solomons fan fiction #alfie solomons fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders au #alfie solomons x f!reader #alfie solomons x f!oc

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quarterpastmidnight · 1 year

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Ah fucksticks, the fic doth vanish!

I were busy reading that tumblr

Alfie fic, two secretaries, something about Ollie?

Maybe it was called Something about Ollie...It could have been, I dunno ☺

Now I can't find it

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons fan fiction #peaky blinders #I'm sure it was about Ollie

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hecatemoon87 · 2 years

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To My Lovely Readers

Hello dear friends,

I wanted to give you all a shout out! And also, a little explanation of why I don't take requests.

I think most writers can agree, if the topic doesn't vibe with them, it is very hard to write good material. I want to offer the reader a fun and exciting story (even if it is just smut!) and I will only post something I'm proud of. Additionally, requests can pile up and if left incomplete can disappoint the requester. My blog is here to bring joy and an escape from the daily grind that is life. I do not wish to bring any disappointment, so I don't hold myself to promises I cannot fulfill.

What I'm trying to say here is that even though I don't do requests, I still value and cherish your feedback. Examples are individuals recently telling me they want more Reggie and Jack. This is great, because I will turn my focus on those characters and write more material. And of course, if you're vibing a certain idea, don't hesitate to ask! I'll be honest and tell you if I can't do it.

DM, ask or comment! Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.

Love. Peace. Tom Hardy.

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asmutwriter · 1 month

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The Gangsta's Wife (Part 7)

DESCRIPTION: You decide to give Tommy some big news at the reopening of the Garrison

WORD COUNT: 2721

A/N - I had a dream about Thomas Shelby last night. He was chasing me through a mansion and I had to hide from him. It was very intense. Guess thats what happens when you watch Peaky Blinder highlights before going to sleep

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List

WARNINGS: swearing, talk of violence, mild threat of violence, pet names (love), drinking, smoking, pregnancy, smoking whilst pregnant (social norm for the time period), Inspector Campbell being himself

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story does not follow the timeline of the show

Not been proof read

It had been a couple of months since your meeting with Harry Thompson. He kept his word. Leaving Birmingham soon after your blackmail. Since then the Shelby family has been more kind towards you. By that you mean you don't feel like they want to kill you every time you enter a room.

You'd attended a few more family meetings as well. But most issues or problems were being resolved within the main family circle. You were appreciative of attending the discussions though. They were certainly more open towards you. Polly even asking how your day has been - on more then one occasion!

But then Thomas got attacked. Horribly. Brutally. You’re surprised he’s still alive to be honest. So sure that he’d die at the hospital where you sat with him until he gained consciousness. When he did, he told you to 'stop fussing and fuck off'. Glad to know that the attack didn’t change him. You left him to heal.

He went to London for a few days. You weren’t sure why. But he left Polly in charge of all Peaky business. You tried questioning her on why Thomas had left but she only responded with 'its none of your business'. Looking back on it you don’t think she knew.

It was a Tuesday morning. Scrubbing the mud from your sister's dress (she had fallen over right into a puddle) in your kitchen. Opening the back door you go and hang the newly washed dress up on the washing line in the garden. Going back inside the house you shut the door. Turning around to go back to the living room, you jump as you see a figure. Gripping at your chest as your husband stands in the door way. A smile of amusement coming over his face as he realises he made you jump.

"Jesus no need to scare me like that"

"I’m sorry love. Wasn’t my intention". A silence filling the room. You go over to a cabinet. Taking out a whiskey bottle. He grabs out two glasses, placing them down by you. You speak as you pour.

"I’m glad to see you looking better"

"I don’t think I could’ve looked much worse" you chuckle slightly. Putting the lid back onto the drink before sliding his glass to him. Him standing next to you but sideways on as he picks up his drink. You take yours. Turning towards him as you hold your drink in one hand. The other folding over your torso.

"Where did you go?"

"Did Polly not tell you?"

"I know you went to London but that’s all she told me” he nods. Taking a sip of his drink. “I just wondered why?"

"I had some business to attend to regarding Ada"

"Is she ok? I know that she got attacked too"

"She will be. She’s a strong willed woman. Plus I’ve given her a new home and protection for her and her son" you nod. Watching as he downs his drink. "I also had to do some business with Alfie Solomons". You furrow your brow at the name. It ringing a vague bell from when you lived in London

"Runs a Jewish gang correct?" he nods. Turning to face the counter as he places his glass back down on the side. Taking the whiskey bottle and pouring himself another drink.

"Have you met him before?"

"No. I only know the name in passing. Got told to stay away from him as he bad news and couldn’t be trusted". Tommy pauses in his actions. Hand around the glass but still on the counter top as he takes in your words. He goes into his pocket. Taking out a few coins and placing them stacked up on the side near you. You look at the small pile.

"I want you to buy a new dress"

"For what occasion?"

"The grand reopening of the Garrison" you stay silent. Thinking over your words before speaking.

"Mr Shelby... is opening the pub a good idea given the recent events? Would it be best to wait until the current threwat is dealt with before rebuilding?". He sips his drink again.

"I want those to know that the Peaky Blinders can rise from any downfall they have" he turns to face you. Drink still in hand as he points in the direction of the pub. "This is the way that we show those fuckers that it'll take a lot more to take down the Shelby family". He downs his drink. Placing the glass onto the table.

"So I’d like you to go out and buy yourself a new dress for this special occasion" he brings a hand up. Resting it onto your cheek as he meets your eyes. Yours soft as you watch his piercing blue orbs. "Lets show those bastards not to fuck with us, eh?". A soft smile comes over your lips as he drops his hand.

It took about a month to rebuild the Garrison. It was hard work but my goodness it payed off. Tommy had shown you it before anyone else. Before the big reopening he took you to see the grand building. Standing tall and proud.

It was the day of the reopening. You’d done as your husband had asked you to do. Gone out and bought a fancy new dress. So here you were. Sitting at the bar. Cigerette in hand as you watch your husband talking with his guests. You snuff out your smoke in the ashtray nearby before going over to him. Gently resting your hand on his arm. He looks at you. His smile softening in feature as he meets your gaze.

"Can I talk with you? Alone?" he nods. The smile seeming to fade marginally at your request. You take his hand. Leading him to a back room. Shutting the door. He watches you. His eyes filled with a confusion as you take his hand. Leading him to a table. You sit down. Him sitting opposite you.

"What is it love?". You look down. Fiddling with your wedding ring. His hand gently takes your chin. Bringing your head up to meet his eyes "what’s on your mind?"

"I’ve been thinking about it and I-" you cut yourself off. You dart your eyes over his features before asking "Can you teach me how to fight?". The request seeming to shock him. Before he can respond you carry on talking. "I saw what they did to you. I know what they did to your sister. And she lives hundreds of miles away. I’m concerned that myself and my sisters are at risk here. I’m sorry I’ve only just brought it up now but given the current situation I-".

"Hey" he moves his hands. Cupping your face as he makes you look at him "So long as you remain a Shelby then you have the protection of myself and the Peaky Blinders. I know I was gone for a while but you will always be safe. I promise you that"

"I would feel safer if I could fight... rather then relying on you to keep me safe..." his eyes dart between yours. Trying to read your expressions. Before he can say anything else you speak again. Quieter this time. Voice barely above a whisper. "I’d like to be able to keep the baby safe...". He stays silent. His eyes flashing with emotions. So quick you can’t read them. Them darting downwards to look at your stomach before coming back up to your features. Mere seconds feel like hours as silence consumes you. You bring your hands up. Holding his wrists as he continues to hold your face. "Please say something".

"It is my duty as your husband to keep you and our child safe. So long as I live I will ensure that. If you wish to learn to fight after our child is born then I will teach you. But you won’t learn whilst you are carrying my babe". He leans forward. Kissing your forehead. You shut your eyes. Nodding as you feel him watch you again. "You are safe Mrs Shelby. I promise". You open your eyes as you feel him stand. Looking up at him as he drops your face. Taking your hands with his. Pulling you up. "Shall we go and tell everyone else the news about the new family member?" he smiles. You nod. Taking his arm as he leads you back out into the crowd.

You wait for the other guests of the party to leave before informing your in-laws. Your sisters are the first to hug you. Wrapping your arms around them both. Tommy's siblings congratulate him first. Ada coming over to you and hugging you too. After your sisters finally let you go. Her giving you affection isn’t shocking. What does surprise you is when Arthur hugs you.

"Well done girl" he says. Genuine joy and happiness in his voice as he hugs you close. You smile at his affection. More due to the symbolism of them accepting you as a family member rather then the hug itself. He moves away. Seeing John Boy practicly hitting Thomas's shoulder as he congratulates him. Your youngest sister takes your arm in hers.

"You know, Mary is a very good name" you roll your eyes

"You can’t suggest your own name” Luz says. Turning her attention from the youngest sibling back up at you “But, on the topic of names, Elizabeth is a very good name" Causing you to laugh.

"You two are as bad as each other" you say. A smile on your face as you contiue to talk with them. You meet Polly's gaze. Cigarette in her hand as what appears to be sadness glazes over her eyes. She nods slightly at you. You give a soft smile and a nod in return before your sisters drag you back to their conversation.

The time flew by. You were around 5 months pregnant. At a small party that was hosted by one of Tommy's aquaintences up in London. You knew your purpose for this party. An accessory to make your husband look good. To make him look approachable. So you stuck by his side the whole party. Your arm linked with his as people came and chatted with you both.

That’s when you noticed a shift in his demeanor. His friendly persona he had on changing. Feeling his arm tense under yours. Although you were getting better at figuring out your husbands thoughts and feelings you still found him incredibly difficult to read. You look at him. Following his gaze. It falling onto a middle aged gentlemen with a cane. You look back at him. You may struggle to figure out what’s going through his head. But you knew that he must know this man.

"Mr Shelby? Is everything ok?"

"We should be going Flo" he turns his back to the man. Forcing you to turn with him as your arm remains on his.

"Who is that man?" you whisper.

"Someone who I reluctantly do business with. Who I'd much rather put a bullet between his eyes then engage in small talk". You look at your husband. Mild shock filling you. He rarely uses violent language around you. He swears a lot but he never talks about violence or commiting violent acts towards people whilst in your prescence. Not even in a joking manner. So for this to be said you know he must be quite a character.

"Lets leave then. If you’ve finished all the other busniness you need for the day" before either of you can make a decision you hear an Irish voice speak.

"Thomas Shelby". Turning to face the man. Him having walked over to you both. You follow suit. Standing slightly behind your husband. Arm interlocked with his as you feel his body tense mildly. "I'll be damned to see you here. You’re a long way from Birmingham aren’t you?"

"I could say the same about you" the man smiles. His eyes falling to you. Raking over your body.

"And who is this pretty thing you’ve got with you?". Thomas clenches his jaw slightly. Watching the man as you cling to him more.

"Inspector Campbell this is Florence Shelby. My wife" he holds a hand out towards you. You take it. Shaking it as a way to deem polite.

"Its a pleasure to meet you ma'am” his eyes fall to your stomach before meeting your eyes again “I can see that a congratulations are in order. What with the marriage and the pregnancy" he motions towards your belly. You half smile.

"Thank you Mr Campblell. We really shou-"

"I never pictured you as the marriage type though Mr Shelby. Not with your reputation"

"Time changes people" he says. Eyes boring into the man. You could feel the testestorone start to build. Turning slightly to your husband. Your hands tightening around his arm.

"I need some air. Come join me" he drops his death glare off of the man. The stare softening as they meet your calming eyes. He nods. Excusing yourselves from the man as you head outside. You sit on a small bench. Hand resting on your stomach as you shut your eyes.

Hearing the soft strike of a match you open your eyes. Tommy lighting a cigarette. Resting it on his lips. You hold your hand out. Him taking a puff from it before placing it in your hand. Watching as you inhale the smoke. Resting your hand on your knee as you exhale. Looking back at the room where the party is.

"Do we have to stay for much longer? Im growing tired"

"We'll stay for a little bit longer. It’s not ideal the detective being here’s but I still have some business left to do” you hold your hand up. Letting him take the smoke from you as he takes a drag from it before speaking again. "If you’re tired then stay out here. You’ve done more then your far share today. You should rest for a little while" you nod. Half smiling at him

"I'll come back inside in a bit. Just want to have some fresh air" he nods. Gently squeezing your shoulder before handing you the cigar. Heading back inside as you take a few more puffs. Placing the butt on the ground. Snuffing it out with your shoe. You watch as you see the crowds of people inside. Spotting your husband talking with someone. The main person you know he wants to make a deal with.

You go to stand up. Wanting to go and help make a good impression. Struggling slightly as you push yourself up. "You ok there Mrs Shelby?" you hear a familiar voice say. Turning you see the inspector. You nod, a soft but half genuine smile on your face

"I’m fine Mr Campbell. If you excuse me I need to go find my husband" turning away you hear him speak.

"You know" he comes over to you. "I can help you". You talk as you turn to face him again.

"Excuse me?". A few more steps. Any closer and he’d be touching you.

"A young, pretty woman such as yourself being dragged into the world of Thomas Shelby. I can’t believe that it was due to your love or affections for him" you go to say something but he cuts you off "I know what your going to say. That you love him and that he cares for you. But I know the truth. That he somehow pulled you into his world of fighting and gangs and you can’t get out” another step closer as his voice darkens “I can give you a way out. Let me help you" he brings a hand up. Going to stroke your cheek. You step back. Shocked by his forward tone. Your hand going to your stomach as a form of protection to your unborn child.

"You know nothing about me or my husband and the life that we have together. We trust each other wholeheartedly and I would never do anything to get rid of that"

"He'll never love you. You do know that, right? You might think he does. Or that he will. That you can change him. But you can’t. You will always be just an object for him to manipulate to his own advantage".

"And what? You think you could give me a different life?" You keep your eyes steady and fixed on his. His eyes remaining on yours as you keep your ground.

"I could give you the affection and love he isn’t capable of showing you. Care for you in a way that a man like him won’t"

You take a step towards him. Anger flashing through your eyes as you spit your words at him. "I am going to go back to my husband. The man who’s child I am carrying. I will be leaving with him back to our home. To our shared bed. Do you understand me Mr Campbell?" He watches you. Nodding. "Good. Goodnight" you turn. Walking back to your husband as he continues to chat with his soon to be new business partner. Linking an arm with him as he introduces you as his wife.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@whorecrux-of-slytherin @kkrenae @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo

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interstellargatorskinboots1812 · 2 years

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TAPPED INTO YOUR MIND & SOUL CHAPTER 12

Sorry for the long wait for this chapter- hope i haven’t lost all my lovely readers!! As ever, please can you reblog, like and most importantly comment with what you think. A fanfic writer asks for no other currency than a comment!

Have You No Idea That You’re in Deep?

Alfie concentrates on the charring embers behind her pupils. The blonde waves of hair loosening from one too many rakes from her fingers. She is a tempest: hasty; commanding; violent; annihilating and in his eyes, utterly magnificent. However, at this point, she is a problem.

‘It’s under control treacle, nothing for you to know about.

Her nostrils flare as she pushes up on her toes, meeting him eye to eye.

‘You know Alfie, I’m not without influence here’.

‘I imagine not.’

‘No need to imagine, take my word for it. I can help to continue to grow your empire and win your wars or tip the balance of favour out of your reach. Consider that when making decisions to freeze me out. A marriage should be built on trust.’

‘Trust, yeh? Trust is a very interesting concept, innit?’

Alfie studies her with cold composure. A strange light in his eyes that Arabella saw fleetingly the day she arrived and asked about that damn letter. It sends a shiver down her spine.

He clasps her chin softly yet firmly between his thumb and index finger.

‘You know, I always thought that you’d be the meek cow to your brother’s raging bull. But now- now I see fuckin’ clearly that it is you that wears that great big gold ring in your nose. See, each day that goes by right, I see things in you that I need to put up ere.’

Releasing her, he gestures to his head with one thick finger.

‘I do, I just keep a log up here in my ledger that counts your good against your bad. Marriage you see, is all about the balance of good verses bad.’

He cricks his neck to the side.

‘What are you willing to turn a blind eye to that in any other human would see you turn a trigger finger to? Taking that into account, my beloved fiance, I will let you in on the things you need to know about my business when I feel you are balanced in my ledger.’

‘Screw your ledger, Alfie. You either learn to trust me and fast or all of this farce is a waste of our time. You need to realise that I am not my brother.’

‘Well that you see, that is what scares me more than anything’.

A contradiction of thoughts urge their way through her - he sees her so precisely, more than anyone has ever done so. It is a worry and a relief all at once and with a piercing look and his frozen composure, she knows that Alfie is all too aware of the accuracy in his observations.

The sound of metal hitting glass interrupts their silence. On the stage behind them, a stunted and stout gentleman exhibiting a viscid black beard , holds himself proudly as he taps his champagne glass.

‘Right then, what’s it going to be Bella? Am I to introduce you as my wife-to-be or as the sister of a bookmaker I know from Birmingham?’

‘You fucking bastard, Solomons!’

Alfie scratches at his nose. Calm and implacable.

‘You see the thing is treacle, you are like me in more respects than you would care to admit.’

His mouth lingers close to her ear, drowning out the rehearsed words of the gentleman in front of them.

‘You gotta ask yourself this, right. Imagine your much coveted rose garden, the one you dreamt of owning when you was a kid. Imagine right that it’s yours. You grew it all by yourself, planted the seeds, tended to it and watered it to fruition. You going to just let me in it to roam free and piss on the compost, be-head the flowers and leave with a pocket full to sell at the market? Course you wouldn’t. You’d study me long enough to check out my gardening credentials first.’

Arabella meets his eyes pointedly, her face contorts briefly in rage before his words settle, stinging like lemon in a paper cut.

‘You remember my rose garden?’

‘Course I do- got it stored in that ledger of mine’.

With a coy smirk, his attention turns back to the stage.

The realisation of his accuracy settles in. Stubbornness has always been a strong suit in her armour, no words will ever come from her mouth to confirm to Alfie he is right, instead she steps in closer to his side and holds on to his arm, telling him all that he needs to know as she leans into him with the whisper of a subject change.

‘Who is he?’

‘That is Bernard Litvinoff- a right greedy fat fuck but never when it comes to money. He’s the chief of the Jewish Board of Guardians.’

Arabella watches as Bernard steals glances towards Alfie, with a slight smirk emerging between the whiskers of his moustache.

‘He certainly seems to hold you in high esteem- he’s practically talking like there is only you in the room’.

‘So he bloody should given my substantial donations’.

Arabella feels her lips automatically curl up as she glances up at him, like a flower opening in spring.

‘Those donations are more than just a cleanse of your image though, I’ve seen the amount you give each month when I looked over the accounts. This means a lot to you doesn’t it?’

Alfie’s brow lowers, his trademark v shape appearing between his eyebrows.

‘I have that written down in my ledger. You see Alfie, you are right- we are both more alike than we care to admit.’

The bodies around them become a blur as his blue eyes bore into her own.

‘So without further ado, I present to you one of our most valued patrons, Mr Alfred Solomons.’

Applause fragments the room drawing them both back . Alfie clears his throat and walks with a confident gait to the stage. The plaudits seemingly getting louder with each step he takes. He silences the crowd with a small wave of his hand.

‘Now then everyone- calm down. Right well, for those of you who don’t know, I am Alfie Solomons chairman of the Aerated Bread Company of Bonny Street, Camden Town. My mother, God rest her soul, came her to the East End of London before my arrival, persecuted as she was by the Russian’s.’

A quick glance around the room affirms the shared understanding of the small gathering as they listen intently.

‘Came to London as a stem without a root- not a penny to her name. Nothing but a weed in the gutter. It was you people who gave her hope, who tended to her and gave her a job and a livelihood. Being of an oppressed race and religion, it’s important we stick together and part of that sticking together is to give back. Those of us who are blessed with the gift of money should make sure we give a percentage of it back to those in need and provide a rung of opportunity on the ladder of hope.’

The room eating out of his palm and just as she said, Nelly Goldman stands at the front prompting applause by clapping the loudest and setting of chain reaction of appreciation.

‘Now, my dear old mother was a woman made of strong substance- in fact she was a diamond built from pressure. Many of you knew her well and know just how much this charity meant to her, so it is an honour for me to be able to give donations to such a good cause and implore you all to do the same, or else you will find a very angry baker knocking at your door.’

The guests laugh as Arabella pulls an eyebrow, not entirely sure he meant that last sentence as a joke.

‘Now, as we are amongst friends here tonight, I thought it apt to be able to share with you all some news.’

Arabella’s throat almost threatening to close over. Sweat begins to form on her forehead as she nervously strokes the soft velvet of her dress.

Alfie’s colbalt eyes find hers in the crowd.

‘Now I want you all to know just what a lucky man I am. Not only did I have the good fortune to have a diamond for a Mother, but it seems I am lucky enough to have found another rare gem. A woman who’s intelligence never fails to astound. I would like to introduce you all to Miss Arabella Shelby, who has graciously agreed to marry this old ogre’.

An array of audible gasps fill the atmosphere.

‘Come on then, don’t leave me standing up ‘ere by myself’.

Alfie holds out his hand towards where she stands. Still with her eyes flickering around the shocked faces.

The room is deafly silent as she stands in front of them all. A quiet that is deafening. She strains her ears, searching for the slightest sound as if to prove her existence in the moment as sets of eyes look her up and down.

An enthusiastic clapping shatters the silence like a pane of glass.

Thank God for Mrs Goldman.

Like a domino set, her applause catches on and the patrons below them evolve into new levels of acceptance for their announcement.

‘Thank you, thank you’. Alfie once again holds up her hand to quieten them.

‘Now, I happen to be living the dream at the moment and that is thanks to Ms Shelby here, who’s beauty has me wanting to do the most bold and reckless things, but who’s alluring modesty and intelligent personality reign me back in again. There you have it – the perfect balance’.

The tiny catch in his voice at the end of the sentence conveys the depth of his words.

‘And testament to just how amazing this woman is, she is going to make a conversion to our way of life and so I hope that all of you in this room will help support my beloved fiance in whatever way you can.’

Bernard Litvinoff, who has been stood listening to the side with his mouth fixed open, waltzes between them before clapping his hands together, making tiny rolls of fat wash through his skin like waves.

‘Mr Solomons, what a surprise! Such wonderful news and I’m sure our fellow patrons share my sentiments when I say congratulations. Unexpected news, but wonderful and we welcome you Ms Shelby to our family.’

Without warning Bernard grabs Arabella’s shoulders pulling her into an embrace. She suppresses a gag when the smell of stale sweat hits her. Alfie smirks at the displeasure lining her expression.

‘Now with this exciting news I think it calls for a brief interlude before we attend to our charity auctioning.’

Arabella steps forward before the bodies below scatter. She clears her throat.

‘And to help us celebrate our wonderful news. . .’

Arabella grabs hold of Alfie’s hand as he looks at her quizzically with one eye brow raised.

‘We would like you all to enjoy a glass of champagne on us’.

Alfie’s temper springs to life as his eyes shoot up, he clears his throat to keep his frustration in check as the guests gasp excitedly and head to the bar. He leans into her ear.

‘You’ll pay for that, treacle’.

‘No darling, I think you find you’ll be paying. I need all the help I can get to win this tough crowd over’.

With a sickeningly sweet smile, Arabella turns and walks from the stage, Alfie following swiftly behind, her hand still in his as she leads ahead.

‘My dear boy, if you ask me I would say you know how to keep secrets better than God himself’.

Alfie’s steps falter at the hoarse and throaty voice, making Arabella turn immediately to see who was causing Solomons to almost trip over his own boots. Her gaze fixes on a well-dressed gentleman, who’s playful smile radiates him in mischief. His wispy and unruly grey hair lead to his untamed and abundant beard that covers most of his face, leaving only his round golden glasses poking free.

Alfie’s darkening eyes drag themselves up and down him, a discernable tension filling the space.

‘I ain’t asking you though am I?’

Alfie’s lips curl above a tight jaw as the elderly man raises his left eyebrow. Just as Arabella feels the need to reach for the knife concealed on her thigh, both men release guttural laughs, the man grasping at Alfie’s shoulders and lightly shaking before placing a kiss to both of his cheeks, forcing her eyes to roll.

‘Oh my boy, how I have missed you!’

‘Yeh well there’s a very good reason for that isn’t there? Swanning off to Boston for far too long and leavin’ me ‘ere to man the fort’.

‘Well, I don’t know about that, for it seems you have been getting help with things’.

The man turns his bright brown eyes to Arabella, a smile threatening to puncture both of his cheeks. He reaches his arm out in gesture and she finds herself instantly at ease, giving him her hand which he swiftly raises to his lips and places a kiss.

‘Miss Arabella Shelby, what a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Rubin Schmier’.

‘Nice to meet you too- so how are you and my fiance acquainted then?’

‘Ah, I see he talks about me often then, eh?’

Rubin tuts and raises another eyebrow in Alfie’s direction.

‘Mind you, with a beauty such as yourself to gaze upon each day, I am sure my boy here is lost for words’.

‘Alfie, lost for words? I don’t think that possible. In fact I’m starting to think he has descended from a parrot’.

Alfie shakes his head as Rubin breaks into laughter.

‘My what a fire cracker you have here, Alfie. Are you sure you want to marry this baboon, Arabella?’

‘For my sins, yes I am quite sure.’

She looks up to Alfie, with a smile that extends up to her eyes.

‘Rubin here is my Kvater, as I was telling you about earlier tonight’.

‘Ah yes, nice to be able to put a face to a name. It certainly has been like Piccadilly Circus for you tonight, Alfie with all of the comings and goings of your friends and family’.

Alfie would be but a fool to not pick up the stab in her words. She hasn’t forgotten about Ollie’s appearance tonight and neither, for that matter, had he. The sweat staining his crisp white shirt is testament to that.

A clearing of a throat has them all turning round to face a rather coy looking Mrs Goldman.

‘Fine speech, Alfred. You always did have a way with words’.

‘Unfortunately a lot of them are usually four letters long and end in uck’.

Rubin smirks at his own joke as Nelly laughs all to exaggeratedly at him.

‘Oh Rubin, I did not know you were back. What a lovely surprise’.

Nelly fiddles with a strand of hair that falls from her up-do. Suddenly the older woman’s done up appearance makes sense to Arabella.

‘Why Nelly I could not bear to be away from you a moment longer- now when are you going to invite me round for tea, eh?’

‘Oh Rubin Schmier you wicked man!’

Nelly swots at Rubin’s red velvet dinner jacket and giggles as she twiddles with her necklace, a pink hue adorning her cheeks.

‘Now then Ms Shelby, I demand you tell me how you managed to tie down this illustrious devil- many have tried and failed you know. . . speaking of which…’

Rubin lowers his voice as the sound of heels thrash against the marble. Martha’s eyes burn like the remaining ash in a dying bonfire as she disregards all but Alfie, standing in front of him like a Sergeant Major. Arabella grins, She takes a glass from a passing waiter’s tray and sips slowly. She is going to enjoy this.

‘Alfie, may I have a word please’.

‘Yeh well not now Martha, I’m busy.’

Martha’s face closes- her deep brown eyes boring in to him as he looks at her with a nonchalant expression.

‘Well I am afraid this is urgent Alf, I need to speak with you now’.

‘Well, he just said he’s busy didn’t he?’

Arabella ‘s tone is cut as she watches her surreptitiously, smiling slightly as she sees her blanch.

‘Alfie, are you going to let her talk to me in that tone?’

Martha places a hand to her chest, acting like a spoilt and needy princess.

‘Well now, my fiance is her own person, she can talk to you however she feels fit’.

In that moment, Arabella feels like she could kiss the face off him for the scowl his words have plastered on Martha’s face.

Martha turns to face Arabella, frowning in concentration she takes a deep breath.

‘Just who do you think you are, eh? You know you won’t be just accepted here don’t you?’

Nelly lets out a gasp and tuts. Alfie’s rage grips him like a vice, as he makes his way forward to grab Martha, Rubin steps into the space, taking his niece gently by the arm.

‘Martha, my sweet girl- you have a little something just there on your…’

Rubin gestures with his finger around his thick moustache as Martha screws up her eyes and rubs at her face where her uncle is indicating.

‘It’s just, here and . . .oh.. it’s here as well… Martha my dear it is all over you- best you go and find a mirror and freshen up’.

Martha breathes heavily and bangs her heeled foot on the floor.

‘This conversation is not over’.

She strides away fiercely on her way to the bathroom as Nelly, Arabella and Alfie stare back at Rubin- their faces painted with confusion.

‘Well now imagine her surprise when she finds that mirror and realises that her face is full of nothing but jealousy, hmm?’

‘I think I really like you Rubin’.

‘Well that is good to know Ms Shelby as very soon we shall be family’.

A warmth fills Arabella’s chest as she looks between Rubin and Nelly. At least she has some forces of good on her side in this room.

‘Now my dear, didn’t I tell you that you had nothing to worry about, eh?’ Nelly places a firm hand around Arabella’s bare shoulders.

‘Alfie here knows not to sell the sun to buy a candle. Isn’t that right, Alfred?’

‘So I am told, Nelly, yes’.

Nelly raises her silvery eyes to Arabella’s.

‘Come now Miss Shelby and let me introduce you to some of my friends- I just know they will love you.’

As Nelly steers Arabella away to a crowd of silver haired women, Rubin moves in closer to Alfie and pats him on the back sharply.

‘A striking woman you have chosen, Alfie. Ms Shelby has fire in her veins and a smile made for war. A rather utopian match for you.’

‘Yeh?’

‘Most certainly. Although, I am surprised that you have finally chosen to settle down after all this time.’

‘Well like you said, Arabella is perfect for me’.

Alfie steals a glance in her direction, watching her intently as she laughs and charms Nelly’s associates.

‘And can she be trusted? Her name hasn’t escaped my senile brain you know.’

Alfie grimaces, his eyes still on her.

‘If I thought she had no intention but to steal, cheat or de-sanctify all that I hold as holy then she wouldn’t be wearing that ring now, would she?’

Rubin nods is head but Alfie senses he finds his words to be hollow.

‘And what of her brothers, hm? Didn’t you tell me what animals they are, how have they taken to the news?’

‘Well, there was a lot of violence at first, yeh on the count of them being utter cunts. But they’re adjusting to the idea. Besides, a match with Arabella isn’t exactly bad for business, means we have a more solid partnership where the gypsies are concerned.’

Rubin smiles to himself and ruefully rests his head on the pillar behind him.

‘Ah well then my boy, I am very happy for you. Of course, at first I did sense this alliance may be for business purposes only but I see how you look at her and I see she holds all the good cards in the deck, so of course if it were for business you’d be in big trouble because no one acts more foolishly than a wise man in love’.

Leaving Alfie to stew in his words, Rubin waltzes away flamboyantly to join the women.

A short while later, Arabella finds herself relaxing, laughing and smiling along to Rubin’s exaggerated tales and Nelly’s flirtatious giggling. She looks to Alfie who stands behind her, silently with his eyes staring, taking him off elsewhere. His shoulders bow down toward the ground as if marred by a great weight, as he senses Arabella’s gaze, she notes how he pulls himself erect and she grabs his hand to give a gentle squeeze before she has time to think about what she is doing.

‘Tell me what’s wrong and I just might be able to help’.

Alfie hears the sincerity in her whispered voice, this wasn’t just her changing tact to illicit information. But still, his secrets were his own.

‘I told you before, it’s nothing’.

Arabella releases a heavy breath and stares back at Rubin although she no longer has an interest in his words.

A loud commotion emits from the entrance to the grand hall. Glasses falling from a tray and smashing. Gasps and shouted words echo around them, inaudibly.

Arabella turns to see a short-framed man with a purposeful stride gaining traction towards them. Alfie squares his shoulders, anger painted on each angle of his face.

As the arrogant rogue gets closer, she looks at the dirt lining his short and stocky fingers. More alarmingly, as she focuses she notes the crimson liquid staining the filth invested tweed jacket he wears- the cardinal blotches seeping between the holes.

‘Ar ey, I haven’t missed the party ave I?’

Alfie grabs tightly to her waist. A mist glazing his eyes in utter madness as a crowd begins to be drawn to the man’s strong Liverpudlian accent. If they thought Arabella was out of place being here then god knows what they thought of him.

‘You’re a hard man to pin down, Mr Solomons’.

‘And you’re a brave lad coming here on your own, ain’t ya?’

The man releases a gruff laugh that settles on Arabella’s last nerve.

‘I’m sorry but who the fuck are you exactly?’

The man smiles sickeningly at her, displaying an abundance of yellowing teeth that misshape and overlap like stones in an abandoned graveyard.

‘Sweetheart, I’m Michael McCleary and you’ll do well to remember that name’.

************************************************************************************

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simpforbuckyb · 13 days

Text

In the blink of the eye

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x f!reader

What happens when Alfie finds a strange woman in his bed and disappear at the blink of his eyes…

Gif not mine

April 2024, London, England

You were tired so you decided to turn off the tv and head to sleep.

You were watching peaky blinders and developed an obsession with the famous gangster Alfie Solomons.

You spent too many hours watching all the episodes that he was in until your eyes stung from keeping them open most of the time spent watching.

Which led you to get some sleep while cuddling your pillow and pretending it was Alfie’s body you were holding.

——————————

April 1922,Camden Town, London, England

It was dawn and Alfie’s throat felt so dry that it woke him from his not so usual peaceful sleep.

He stirred while struggling to open his eyes, moving his head to the side away from the moonlight so some darkness would help him open his eyes fully.

Sighing heavily, he was about to open his eyes until he caught a whiff of strong vanilla and coconut.

Alfie tensed. Like really stiff that he stopped breathing for a second so he can feel his surrounding.

His arm was slightly aching as he realized there was something weighing on it. There was also a small puffs of air against his neck. Maybe it was Cyril? But Alfie remember locking his bedroom door before sleeping.

Alfie opened his eyes slowly until he realized that there was a woman between his arms. The smell he caught earlier was from her hair that was under his chin. The weight that tingled his arm was her head and the air against his neck was her breathing.

“fucking hell” Alfie mumbled while looking at the woman sleeping and wondered if he was drunk and brought the woman here.

“But i’ve neve’ seen that face before, right?”

He kept mumbling to himself as he rose to lean on his elbow so he can have a better look at the woman. A small sigh left her as she stirred to get comfortable until her breathing heaved again.

She was beautiful. Most likely a beauty he’s never seen before. Her hair was around the space and her lashes were kissing her cheeks. Her lips were slightly chapped but he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. Who the hell is this woman? He kept wondering.

He rose until he stood beside his bed and noticed the weird clothes she was wearing. An awfully long sleeved shirt that has so many frog faces on it. He lifted the blanket and was stunned from the view of the naked skin of her legs that he threw the blanket back down covering her.

Alfie shook his head and looked at her one last time before unlocking his door and heading to the kitchen. He stood for a solid five minutes looking out of the kitchen window until a heavy sigh left his chest and drank some water.

Slowly, he went up the stairs and opened his bedroom door slowly as his eyes searched for her sleeping form only to find his bed empty with the blanket at the same position he’s left before.

“What the fuck?” Was all what Alfie said as he looked at his bedroom like nothing has ever happened.

—————————-

You woke up to the annoying sound of the alarm and bright sun rays from your window. You got up heading to the bathroom to wash your face then went to the kitchen to have something to eat. You pass the tv and thought of Alfie and giggled at yourself.

“Crushing on a fictional character like a teenage jeez” you mumble into the air as you got ready for work. You work at a library. You just moved in and it was the closest building to your apartment so you decided to ask for a job and got accepted. It was quiet and peaceful working there. Not too many people head there and you spent most of your shift reading some books that caught your eyes.

As the day passed, you changed to your favorite nightgown and rested your head on your pillow staring at the ceiling. You grabbed your pillow ,hugging it, wishing that you would actually cuddle someone and not just a pillow.

“God, I’m so sick of being lonely” you sigh heavily as sleep finally consumed you. Ironically enough, your dreams are about one man who is called Alfie.

——————————-

Alfie was sure as fuck that he wasn’t drunk nor brought someone to his bed. Then why the fuck was that woman in his bed again and how did she even got in here? It’s been two minutes since he left his bed and went to the bathroom only to come back and find her sleeping.

He held the door frame as he looked at her. She was wearing something different tonight. A black satin nightgown that showed the skin of her arms. She is stunning but who is she? Earlier this day, he spent hours searching for that face only to find none but then he finds you here, in his bed and under his blanket.

He approaches your sleeping form slowly as his eyes never left your face.

“Oi!” He said loud enough to stir you from your sleep.

“Ey wake the fuck up…how the hell did you get in here?” He didn’t realize how he stepped closer until he was looking directly into your half lidded eyes. What a beautiful eyes, he thought

“Speak up, who are you, woman?” He asks when he noticed your wide eyes looking up at him with your lips agape.

“Alfie” he hears his name whispered softly from her lips as she rises to a sitting position and look at him. The blanket fell from her chest, showing him her upper body that was covered by that soft looking satin.

His gaze moves to hers and he was stunned to find her hand hovering his cheek. Her fingers were inches from his skin and he fought the urge to close the distance just to feel her.

“How the hell did I get in here?” She says before her hand touched his cheek and as soon as he felt her skin on his, he blinks and find nothing.

——————————

Sooooo yeaah this happened . I know. Funny enough that’s the first time for me to write something and this shit is hard asf. That was a dream that i had one time and couldn’t get it out of my head. I searched a lot for a similar plot but found none so i just decided to write it down lol. Idk what to say and I don’t even know if someone is gonna see this but yeah that’s it. Have a great day and stay hydrated.

#alfie solomons #tom hardy #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #Alfie solomons x female reader

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cljordan-imperium · 8 months

Text

Back To The 20's - Pt 1

Rose & Alfie Solomons belong to @raincoffeeandfandoms

Annabella has been alive a very long time, see what she was getting up to in the 1920's in England....

“Are you quite ready? With all that primping one might think you are a woman.” A smirk formed on Anna’s lips as she looked Jasper up and down. Oh, she did love to tease him so. The handsome demon was fun to tease, and he was always one to return the favor later.

His head turning slowly from judging his visage in the mirror, Jasper’s brilliant blues met an almost identical set on Annabella’s gorgeous’s face as his head tipped to the side, his lips pursing slightly. “Now darling, how many times have we been delayed as I waited on your gorgeous ass to finish getting ready?” One dark blonde brow raising in amusement. Had anyone else dared to poke at him, he might have become annoyed, but the attractive blonde teasing him currently would get a pass. He absolutely adored her, for many reasons.

“The difference, love, is that I *AM* a woman. You’re supposed to wait on me.” The tease continued as her chin slightly lifted in the air. “It takes time to look this devastatingly gorgeous.” Her eyes slightly narrowed in amusement as her smirk increased

“Now, darling, we both know that you wake up looking like the angels smiled on you the day you were born.” Jasper gave her a devilish smile as he sauntered over to her and captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “And don’t try to argue with me, for I shall not hear a word of it. Do not make me call on Jean Pierre and Armaund when we return to New Orleans and tell them you misbehaved while we were here. You do know I do love getting you in trouble, love.” He winked and tapped the end of her nose with his forefinger before turning to the side and offering her his arm. “Now, I believe we need to go or we shall be late for the appointment with your friend Rose and her husband Alfie was it?” Being back in England after so many years was a treat. With his accent being what it was, he was the one that fit in and she was the one sticking out, something he enjoyed.

“Yes, and be nice, they’re human.” Anna’s delicate hand slid into the crook of Jasper’s elbow as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. “No trying to drink him under the table, we want him alive at the end of the visit.” A slight chuckle followed her words.

“Always ruining my fun!” He scoffed as he escorted her out to the waiting motorcar, one of the finest in all of London. One of the newest as well. “I will try, love. I suppose I can’t eat him either?” A brow rose, his head turning to look at her as he helped her up and into the car. The rolling of her eyes and the deep sigh she gave had him laughing as he joined her. He did so love riling her up, and was glad she was always a good sport.

It seemed no time at all, they were pulling up before the house that Rose and Alfie shared. There was another warning issued to Jasper, whose eyes sparkled with mischief and a daring smirk that Anna was well familiar with. She knew her patience would be tested this evening, but she could give just as well as he could. She had considered others to bring with her, but given Alfie’s profession, she also needed someone who would not cow to the man. As a friend of Tommy Shelby’s, she did have to keep up appearances after all. Jasper could be charming, but he bowed to very few, and none of them humans.

“Remember, behave…” Anna whispered one last warning as she exited the car to once more slip her hand into the crook of the handsome demon’s elbow. The devilish grin on his face and the wink she got in return told her that he would behave himself, to a point, and that point was just enough to keep him on her good side. They did have an almost 200 year friendship, and for some reason he valued it. Who was she to question?

Before they’d even stepped up to the heavy wooden door of the English countryside home, it swung open and they were greeted by the beaming face of Rose Solomons, her burly and surly husband a step behind her. “Annabella, I do believe you must be jealous of the fair Rose, you downplayed the lovely English maiden’s beauty,” Jasper flirted before taking Rose’s hand and brushing a chaste kiss across her knuckles. Just enough to be charming but not enough to get him shot by either the female, or her husband.

The men had just finished introducing themselves and shaking hands when the ladies turned towards them. It seemed Jasper did know how to get in good graces with the Mad Baker, as he had just pulled out two fine cigars from his inner breast pocket. “I think they’re going to do just fine without us.” Rose teased, leaning her head in towards Anna’s. “He seems to have anticipated one of my husband’s interests.” The beauty smirked.

A slap on his upper arm was Anna’s response before Rose found herself enveloped in a tight hug. “Ignore him, he’s being cheeky as always.” Anna’s French accent made her voice almost melodious as she laughed while greeting her friend. “If he didn’t think YOU would shoot him he’d be worse.” A quick kiss was dropped on Rose’s cheek before she pulled back and shook her head as the light danced in her eyes while she laughed.

Anna wanted to see them and to give her some advice on protection, possibly even training of female guards. Rose might know exactly who and what she was sitting next to, but she did know that Anna was in the upper echelons of the syndicate that ran New Orleans, that was not a secret from the Shelbys or Alfie. They just didn’t know exactly what that syndicate entailed, it was safer for them all that way.

“This might be our best chance to escape before we get roped into a discussion and once you get Jasper talking, it is hard to get that man to shut up. I think he might have been a woman in a previous life.” Anna gave the beautiful woman a wink and linked arms with her to hurry with her back towards the car that she and Jasper had arrived in

The driver was dutifully standing with the door to the back open with a conspiratorial grin on his face, he did know the woman who employed him well. He would be taking her to near the girls’ school and the boarding house that Rose had set up for women that needed protecting, where he would be switched out for a female driver. It had been arranged for when Anna had first set up the visit, not wanting even the driver to spook anyone. She could have had him switch forms, but that might have freaked Rose out a bit more than she was ready for. Not all humans were aware that “others” walked amongst them, and Anna wasn’t sure that all of the rum in Alfie’s distillery could help with that shock!

(I got wordy, so this is going to take a few parts. LOL)

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mariamariquinha · 2 years

Text

A Tale of Camden Town (Alfie Solomons x f! reader)

Part 2

Summary: You started to work with Alfie Solomons himself and he proved to be more than a man with a lot to say.

Word count: 5.4k (hello ???)

Warnings: A slight mention of working in a brothel, another slight mention of religiosity, a bad word here and there, eventual sex talk, unprotected p in v sex, some pining, and Alfie Solomons himself. Forget the canon too, okay? There’s no mention of what happened in Peaky Blinders.

Author’s Note: Sorry for any language mistakes, folks! I’m really happy to share this piece with you all! SAFE TO REMIND that this is a work of FICTION.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

I still don’t have a taglist, but my inbox are open for eventual new works if you want!

----------------------------------

It was a rainy day. A stupid… Umid rainy day.

You looked around Camden Town, pressing your fingers into the hem of your coat that was already two numbers too big for you. Someone yelled on the other side of the street, and it startled you.

You took the paper from your purse, checked the address, gulped at the realisation as if it was the first time. One step, two steps…

“You’re late.”

Marla was a typical middle-aged woman, holding a stern expression but with good intentions from what you’ve heard. She was at a window, opened enough to see your face and not wet the insides of the house.

“I’m sorry.”

She took in your stance, head to toe, then focused on your face.

“Enter through the back door. Be careful with Cyril.”

You didn’t ask who Cyril was; in fact, you didn’t dare to say anything more at all. With said careful steps, you could round the house and find a back door, which you opened.

“Oh, oh, oh.”

A beautiful and big Bullmastiff got close enough to sniff your feet and inspect your presence with enthusiasm. With effort, you bowed enough to not let him leave the house and, more so, not ruin your dress.

“Someone told me that the train would be late because of the bad weather.” Marla appeared again, but this time she wasn’t looking. “How’s Mrs. Fitz?”

“She is…” Cyril sniffed closer to your leg before leaving you. “She’s fine, sent her regards from Peterborough.”

“I should write to her… Please, remind me.”

“As you wish.”

The laundry was almost dark, but there were two small windows for sunny days, you suppose. With small lamps to light up the space, you could see Marla working on a laundry basket, and for a few seconds she lets you take in the place in silence.

When you looked at her again, she was measuring your clothes.

“Is that all you have?” She nodded to your small handbag, which made a feel of embarrassment build in your gut.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, Mr. Solomons is not an extravagant man, but perhaps you need more austere uniforms.” Sounded more as a talk to herself, because Marla nodded and gestured for you to come closer. “The late maid left her dresses here, you can use them for now until we buy new ones. Come.”

It was neat, the place where she showed you the extension of your new work. There were two doors, one for each room, and your bedroom was small and sophisticated. Maybe Mr. Solomons weren't extravagant, but the furniture looked… too adequate for a maid’ room.

“Breakfast is served at seven.” She explained, giving you a full view of her partially greying hair as she tied the dress around your waist. “Mrs. Fitz told me you don’t have experience with cooking, but I’ll teach you with time. As I said, our boss appreciates good things, but he’s sly.”

This thing about Marla intrigued you. She didn’t mention Mr. Solomons with fear, nor reticence - she talked as if he was a normal man, rich by legal achievements and distant from the reality of a gang leader he was. If it was a consequence of her time working for the man, you didn’t know, but you felt some particular curiosity of how things were made.

So you asked.

“Is there anything I should know about him?”

Marla stopped, then looked at you for a moment before going back to fixing the sides of the dress.

“He doesn’t bring his work to the house and you should never ask about it. Don’t snoop, don’t steal, don’t go out there talking about whatever you see here. That’s how things work.”

“Right.”

“... You’ll be fine.” She said it as a statement, both hands in your arms. “And you can call me Marla.”

“Okay… Marla.”

The woman smiled a little, then patted your shoulders and started to talk again about the routine. You didn’t pay that much attention, looking at the window and spotting interesting details at the view of a brick wall on the other side.

Particularly scared of what would be of you now, fixing residence in London and working with an infamous man like Alfie Solomons.

------------

First, you’ve heard a thump. Not a big one, you wouldn’t hear it if the house wasn’t so silent. Then Cyril left his place on the counter of the kitchen, wagging tail and running in the direction of the door. Just when you’ve heard a voice, a grunt accompanied by a simple “hey, ma boy” that you knew what time it was.

Seven in the morning. Not even a minute late. The breakfast was already served, you even appreciated the dining room for a moment; the windows and the big table.

“Marla!”

She wiped her hands and left without a single complaint of not being able to finish peeling the potatoes with you. There was a small conversation, which you didn’t hear, and she got back.

“He wants to talk with you.”

“... Huh?” You raised your head from the bowl in front of you.

“Mr. Solomons. Go, I’ll finish it.”

And it sounded like a demand, not a question, so you got up and she took your apron in a single movement, gesturing to the door. This time, you didn’t take slow and suspicious steps, maybe for impulse.

Alfie Solomons was a lot of things. A gang leader, a not so fervent jewish, a baker, a beast, and as you saw with your own eyes that morning, an elegant rich man. He situated himself at the edge of the table, a lit cigar on one side as he ate an omelet and stroked Cyril's head with his left hand. His beard was well cared for, but looking at him at this distance, at his light… He looked sly.

“Take a seat.”

You frowned, hesitantly to pull a chair, and this lack of attitude made him take his eyes from the plate to you.

“As I recall, Marla didn't tell me you're deaf.”

So you did, with an embarrassed nod while the man didn’t take his eyes from your subtle presence by his side. Of course you didn’t speak, nor keep staring at him, which led to good moments of silence, just the sound of his fork around the room.

The rain was pouring outside, bating the window with care.

“Do you drink?”

“Not if I can avoid it.”

He nodded, cleaning the sides of his mouth in the last bites of food.

“And what do you drink when you can’t avoid it?”

“... Wine, maybe. I don’t think a woman should explore that much of their freedom with alcohol.”

“You don’t need to answer what you think I wanna hear, miss.” Mr. Solomons leaned back on his chair, sighing a little. “Unless what you’re saying is an honest opinion.”

“It is.”

“Why.”

Was that an interrogation? He was measuring your reactions, catching the way you simply felt shy enough with his intense gaze? Either way, you gulped before answering absentimely.

“My experience says it.”

“You mean your time working on that brothel at Northampton?”

You wanted to say that it wasn’t a brothel. You wanted to look straight into his eyes, confident enough, and mention your conditions to be there. That your life wasn’t easy. That just like him, you needed to find your ways and this ways could be more difficult because of your sex. That you were a respectful woman, even if the places you’ve been weren't respectful.

But you didn’t.

Because of course he knew it all.

“... Yes.”

Mr. Solomons nodded, made a small frown with his mouth, then got back to eating as if it was nothing. Your hands were sweating, you needed to dry them in your dress to prevent any more visible discomfort.

“Are you religious?” The questions kept going, as you saw.

“I used to go to church with my late employer.”

“Ms. Smith?”

“Yes.”

“And what happened? Not a God to fear anymore?”

“I do my prayers at home, eventually. The work at… the brothel hampered me to visit my faith in a sacred place.”

“Mm.” He hummed, passing a hand on his beard. “So you wouldn’t do anything to harm the integrity of my house?”

“It never crossed my mind, sir.”

Mr. Solomons studied you with attention, creating a tense silence between you both.

Not that you noticed before, because you never saw him in person, but for a rigid and criminal man, he was easy on the eyes. His gaze had this magnetic orbit, in a pale shade of green which could be perceptive by the comfort light from the window.

If he saw something on you too, he didn’t show.

“Do ya have someone to go back for? Here or anywhere?”

You didn’t know why you hesitated to answer that too. Still, he waited patiently like a monk, taking in your expressions like you’re some jewel to be inspected.

“No, sir.”

“So you don’t have a problem living here? With me and Cyril?”

Whatever plan he had with the conversation, your confusion made it clear that you didn’t understand at all.

“No, sir.”

“Good, good…” He pondered. “I’ll keep an eye on you, if you don’t mind.”

Not that he was asking, but you wouldn’t know how to answer that, anyway.

“That means that you should also keep in mind that I don’t have any problem punishing a woman with light hands or a tendency to gossip.”

“I’m aware.”

“Looks like we have a deal, then. You can go.”

This time you didn’t even think too much. With a nod and easy steps, you left the man by his own company and entered the kitchen again with what felt like a terrified expression.

Marla stared at you, then got back to chop the potatoes.

“Will you catch the next train or we can start with the chores?”

When you sit - taking the apron and not daring to open your mouth, she huffed a smile and shook her head.

------------

Ms. Smith used to say that you loved to stay still, just looking - better saying, observing things. Took you three weeks to learn about a new place, and two more to really understand any kind of mannerisms someone could have, because reading places was easier than reading people.

When your presence at the house turned into a full month, you found it odd because that mechanism changed in just one aspect: Alfie Solomons was a blank page to you.

You would come and go around the house doing your chores, even preparing his baths because Marla wasn’t feeling that good to go up and down the ladder with a bucket of warm water anymore, but still… nothing.

And you got that he wanted it to be like that, subtle, away from your acknowledgement. That it was simply a part of him he wasn't ready to show you yet, or not interested at all.

What happened that night was weird. You were finishing the bath with an extra dose of water, paying attention to the temperature. The lights were low and even with the insistent rain outside, you’re sweating from the efforts of the day, especially in such contact with the hot dread that came from the bathtub.

Mr. Solomons entered his bedroom in silence, which was regular, but then he groaned in what sounded like pain when he sat on the edge of his bed. Yes, indeed, he was in pain. Not being able to bend over to reach his boots, probably a consequence of his sciatica - that Marla told you eventually.

Your reaction was automatic, if not bold.

“May I?”

You were in front of him then, pointing at his foot with a finger but not daring to let it linger for too long. Maybe he just had a bad day at work? Why would you…

“Mm-hm.”

He kept quiet while you stood on your knees there, close enough to untie your shoelaces calmly. It should be really a lot of pain, you though, because he wasn’t the one to stay that quiet.

“Marla gave you new dresses, innit?” The question made you look at him. He was frowning, both hands hanging on his thighs and eyes on the side of your dress that eventually showed a little of his left shoulder.

“We…” You cleared your throat, using your fingers to adjust the falling side. “We’ve been cleaning the windows today, Mr. Solomons. The old ones provide me more chances of movement.”

“So the new ones are tight?”

“No! No, they fit me well, just… It wouldn’t be polite to serve your meals wearing a dirty dress. Nor hygienic.”

Because you’ve been taking turns on some of these chores, and you tried to keep yourself clean for eventual visits - even if he didn’t receive a lot of them. Maybe the idea bothered him, seeing you like that when he spent money to give better clothes to his servants.

“And what happened to your shoulder?”

Oh, of course. That. A small scar that seemed insignificant and indifferent, but apparently attracted attention. You weighed your answer for a few moments, fixing your attention at the other shoe instead of speaking at once.

“I had an accident a few years ago.”

“Elaborate on that.”

Okay, he wants to talk. Right. Fine, you can do that.

“... Ms. Smith used to practise horseback riding. She tried to teach me one day, but I eventually fell from the horse and cut my shoulder with the saddle.”

“It hurted a lot, I suppose.”

“Considerably.” You left the shoe beside, well placed on the counter. “Not that I would like to repeat the experience.”

“Of course not.”

It was a subtle giggle, not closer to a laugh but enough to make you mirror his reaction. These sounds filled the space for a time, warming the silent room with a joy that generally were limited to some comment between you and Marla, only.

When they stopped, the atmosphere kept that warm feeling, but Mr. Solomons was looking at you with a different gaze. A good one, you had to admit, not judgmental for the shy sounds of your discreet laugh.

“Would you mind if I see it again?”

You should say ‘yes’, right? Wish him a good night and leave without another word, pretend that whatever good feeling he was transferring from his eyes didn’t affect you in what appeared to be an intimate moment.

But you just shook your head, getting close enough to not make him lean too much, but also to consequently feel his scent, more so a puff of his breath. He was careful enough to touch just the dress fabric, pulling to the side enough to face the scar again.

And he looked. Looked. Looked.

The light touch of his fingers made you gasp softly, but he didn’t mind at all. You felt like an experiment being studied by the attentive gaze of that dangerous and infamous man. Your fingers flexed when he turned his eyes to your face, wandering orbs searching for something.

“You feel it?” He asked with a low voice.

“Tricles."

“Mm… tricles.” The repetition didn’t make much sense, because it was a simple answer, the only one you could give with that proximity.

“Mr. Solomons?”

Marla’ voice startled you two for… whatever was happening, and that made you freeze. He didn’t look affected though; Mr. Solomons sighed, then used his fingers to put the fabric back with care.

“Go.”

Marla didn’t ask when she saw you struggling to put the bucket in place in the laundry, but again, it wasn’t like you would know how to answer too. Your nerves were on fire, a boiling feeling of excitement and anxiety, your mind, on the other hand, wondering what was his intentions - and what was this sensation on you, that not even a cold bath could fix.

Was it… No. No, it can’t be that. He’s my employer, goddammit! He is… He is…

That night, you prayed for answers.

Answers you knew God would be ashamed to give.

-----------

It was like keeping a dirty secret, even if, in a way, you couldn’t define the real nature of what happened between you and Mr. Solomons that night.

You’ve heard stories about this type of behaviour - employers crossing lines with their servants, making things… wrong. That made you think. From what you knew, Mr. Solomons wasn’t married. And from what you remembered, he didn’t offer something you didn’t want.

Desire sounded dangerous; felt dangerous. Mr. Solomons was a man ready to cross those said lines for some fun? You could catch his eyes for that? Not that you’re planning on getting married soon, and even so, that gesture could be just a reflection of a tired man needing a relief.

During the following days, he acted normal. Good mornings and good evenings, a comment or two about Cyril, and still being the incognite you couldn’t decipher.

So you let yourself go.

Tried to, at least.

Mr. Solomons would walk by, make a gesture, and you would look. His shoulders, or his legs when he sat at his armchair at evenings to read, sometimes the thick strands of his hair. It started to consume your mind: an attractive man, away from the natural image of his social status.

“Do you know it?” He asked one morning, pointing at the newspaper with a small text about the new tendency of dresses for young women.

“... Fashion is not my best attribute, Mr. Solomons.” You said in a low tone, hands behind your back.

“Is that so?” A huffed smile passed his lips. “And what is?”

You shrugged, grinning more by yourself than for him, properly.

“Special soaps for french baths.”

After that, he started to pay more attention, you thought. Lingering gazes, small talks about the weather, a comment or two referent to what Cyril liked to eat when you and Marla were cooking.

These interactions happened as if in secret moments, when the other woman wasn’t around, sometimes when you’re preparing another one of his baths. He didn’t ask about that night; nor made a point to question your ‘special soaps’, which were nothing more than flower essences.

It started to feel like a personal and intimate thing. Discreet, lightly, unique, taking your good nights of sleep in exchange for many thoughts and memories about his small acts. Nights twirling your hair, thinking, going to the kitchen to grab a cup of water to retrieve your naivety.

Alone in your thoughts… Imagining. Wondering.

“No need for lights, miss?” Mr. Solomons’ voice startled you, making a gasp fall from your mouth. He was at the doorway, crossed arms and his daily clothes were still there.

You prepared his bath, you remembered, but he came home late. No dinner, nor any glimpse of his presence. In your mind, the man was probably tired of his daily duties and got straight to the bed after a dinner with his friends, but it looked like you’re wrong. There, in front of you, he was very awake.

“Oh, Mr. Solomons! You scared me.”

“I see.” A nod. “What are you doing up so late at night, uh?”

“... Just… Just came to grab a cup of water.”

The only source of light was coming from behind his back, more specifically from the dining room. With the curtains opened, you noticed that he could see you completely - including your white and large t-shirt, an unconventional choice of pyjamas for a lady, principally in the company of your own boss.

This realisation made you cross your arms around yourself in embarrassment.

“Don’t let me interrupt you.”

“I don’t think it’s appropriate.”

“Drink water?”

“Be dressed like this in front of you.”

For a man with a talkative demeanour, Mr. Solomons chose again the odd option of staying silent, making a gesture to turn around and giving you a chance to walk through the kitchen with some privacy.

You did, hesitantly, walking in your tiptoes as if he didn't already see you there. You grabbed a cup, then a bottle of water, poured a good amount and drinked with your face turned to the window.

It could be just that. Just… an incident.

But then he started talking, sensing your mouth opening to say a ‘good night’.

“These days have been bringing a lot of difficulty to sleep, eh?” He offered, but you didn’t dare to turn to him. “I feel a sense of comfort for not being the only one in that position.”

“... I’m sorry for that.” You mumbled, gripping the edge of the sink.

“Nah, don’t worry. A man like me lives a good distance from the peaceful nights in bed.”

When you’ve heard him shifting, the subtle creak of the floor responding to his movement, your fingers pressed more firmly on the sink, and you knew he was staring at you, your silhouette reflected by the street light.

“What an interesting choice of a nightgown.” Two, three, four steps, enough to make you feel the warmth of his body behind you, your own already chasing that feeling of excitement back. “Did it belong to someone before?”

“N-Not that I know.”

“So it’s truly yours.” His voice was low, inviting, and it didn’t help when his fingers brushed the fabric of your shirt, just at the line of your spine. “Fits you well.”

You needed to resist the urge to gasp at that mix of sensations; his touch, his voice, his proximity. Shivers were running all over your body because of it and you’re pretty sure he noticed.

“Thank you.”

“Smells good too. Did you wash with one of your special soaps?”

If he was messing with you, the strength to laugh didn’t exist in enough intensity to make you reproduce it. Still, you tried, eyes fixed on the sink to find some bravery to speak.

“It was just a tale.”

“A tale… Why would you tell me a tale? I truly believed in it, could even ask you to prepare one of those special baths for me.”

Jesus, was he really this close to let you feel his cologne?

“... I think I disappointed you deeply then.”

“We’re not disappointing anyone here. No, no…” His fingers pressed more firmly on the fabric, tugging at it just a little. “What is that tale of yours?”

You felt more embarrassed then, ashamed of what you should tell him. He didn’t sound impatient, but when he tugged more on the shirt, silently demanding you to look at him, you did. And Mr. Solomons was there, eying you with a different glint on his eyes, almost pressing you against the sink.

You gulped.

“Just a good dose of flower essence, enough to… bring a person closer to their deepest feelings.”

“Mm.” A mumble. “It doesn’t sound like a tale.”

“No?” You breathed at him, staring at some place between his chin and chest, which was peaking a piece of skin from his shirt.

“I would say it’s a promise.”

Mr. Solomons used one single hand to touch your face, lightly, enough to make you sigh at the sensations of his fingers on you again.

“What kind of deep feeling could a man have, naked in a bathtub? Hm?” He stared straight to your eyes then, raised your chin just enough to look back. “Maybe a missing sensation of touching a soft skin, marked by an accident but equally tempting?”

You couldn’t speak, move, or breathe. That man, that… Creature was there, revelling specific thoughts about you, touching, murmuring, praysing. Any other taste of excitement wasn’t compared to what you felt at that moment; his thoughts during the days after what had happened in the room were like children's stories compared to your racing heart and wandering mind.

Kissing him for the first time wasn’t what you could ever expect. There was a care, a softness, a burning desire hidden between the touch of his lips on yours. He leaned enough to make you sigh, your bodies in a distance that could be broken by any small movement.

Carefully, he tugged at the side of your shirt, bringing you to his embrace, making you feel his firm body while you used your hands to hold his shoulders. The thin fabric covering your body didn’t hide your pebbled niples and when you brushed just enough on his chest, a low moan escaped from you.

“Alfie…” You sighed when he distanced his face for air.

That was enough to light the fire and next thing you knew, his tongue invaded your mouth, which you accepted with fervour. It felt so good, so true, that you almost didn’t catch the noise coming from the maid’ chambers - more so, a door being opened.

“Marla usually checks on you at night?” Took you a few blinks to process the question, but you shook your head. “Go to my room. Wait for me there.”

And you did without thinking, running as fast as you could without being noisy, aware of your surroundings to reach the stairs in time to hear Marla greeting him. If she saw, if she asked questions, you couldn’t care less.

Your body was on fire - the taste of his mouth on yours still new and delicious. You closed the door of his chambers discreetly, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves and to prepare yourself for what could come.

Whatever they said to each other, it was fast. You didn’t have time to choose if you should sit on the bed or just stand there, because his footsteps came from the corridor, then he was there again, watching you… literally standing in the middle of the room.

“She heard something.” Mr. Solomons explained. “We’ll not be interrupted again tonight.”

That sent a shiver through your body.

“May I ask you a thing?” He got closer again, this time not hiding his eagerness to touch you, placing his two open palms on your waist.

“Sure.”

“Did any man ever claim you?” Instead of seeking your mouth, he controlled his cravings enough not to take another step forward without your answer.

“No…” You shook your head again, fingers playing with the nape of his neck. “Just boys.” There was a smile on his face at your answer, one that you mirrored.

“Lemme claim you then, my sweetie, lemme… The things I wanna do to you.”

“Do it.” You said confidently. “I’m all yours, Alfie. All yours.”

That same palms went further down, grabbing your ass fiercely and using that support to the closeness of your bodies. He raised the hem of the shirt enough to feel nothing but skin, and while you tried desperately to take his own shirt out of his pants, he growled.

“Come here.”

You both walked blindly in the direction of the bed. Alfie sat on the edge, his hands rubbing your nude tights and a look of reverence on his face, taking in the sensation of your finger finally messing with that hair - finally.

“How do you want me?” You asked with a sigh, horny from head to toe by the way he massaged your buttocks.

“On top of me… Wanna see that pretty tits of yours bouncing while I fuck you.”

With a smirk of yours, you obliged his wishes by placing one leg on each side of his body, sitting right on top of his crotch. The contact of your bare pussy with the rough of his pants and, more so, his hardening dick, give you a delicious friction. Surrendered by your pebbled niples, he didn’t notice right away when you started to tug on the fabric of his shirt, eager to feel some skin too.

When he indulged it, taking off his clothes and throwing it away, you saw… a man. A huge one, with a beautiful chest and belly and… God, his arms… You wanted to touch everything at the same time, feel all of the sensations, bite him, scratch him, kiss every centimetre of his skin.

You gasped with the sound of a tear, the cool air of the room hitting the soft skin of your breasts, now bare and touched by him. You moaned when he pinched your niples, testing, grabbing, and eventually sucking with delicacy, which made you see stars at every pass of his tongue.

The rest was easy to abandon; your shirt and his belt buckle were somewhere behind you. He did a tantalising movement with his bearded cheek to bring his face on the level of yours, brushing your skin until he could take another kiss - a lazy one, but full of the manifestation of your desire.

“You feel so big, Mr. Solomons…” You moaned on his mouth, using your hips to seek more friction from his hard dick.

“But you’ll handle it, yeah?” He teased while smiling. “Handle it like a good girl?”

“Mm-hm.” Biting your bottom lip, Alfie lets you chase some release for a few moments, using the distraction to take discreet bites on your neck and chin.

Right when you feel your pussy clench around nothing, that tightness feeling burning in your belly, he manhandles your body enough to give him space to free his dick. It was really big, leaking in pre cum and making your mouth water.

“Another time, my goddess.” As if reading your mind, he said. “Now I need to feel you.”

Carefully, again, he positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance, teasing your clit a little and earning a soft gasp from you. At first, it felt tight. With all the length opening you up in a slow thrust, you dug your nails into his shoulders, opening your mouth to utter something but saying nothing at all. He watched your face, then the way your cunt took him, moaning at the sensation.

“You’re gripping me… Look at that tight pussy, being stretched by my cock. Ah… So tight.”

Fully seated on him, you both panted between heated kisses while getting used to the feeling of his cock buried inside you. It didn’t take much for you to start moving, twirling your hips and making him grip your hips firmly.

“Mmm… Yes, my dear, just like that. ‘Being so good to me.”

He used one of his hands to hold the back of your neck, his fingers pulling a few strands of your hair while conducting the way you moved up and down, the wet sound of your sex filling the room. It felt good, unbearable, almost too much. His encouraging words were whispered in your ear - you’re doing so well, such a good pussy, keep going - made you mewl, and it was better than anything your mind could imagine.

In the need of more, both of your movements turned hurriedly, fast, making your skin slap against each other with more vigour. He was hitting the right spot, time after time, not daring to stop for even a second.

“Alfie… Alfie…” You moaned with your head thrown back. “I’m gonna…”

“Go on, I wanna feel it. Gimme that.”

And you did, as if your body was waiting for permission, the orgasm washing over you like a wave of pleasure. Alfie trusted you for a little more, just enough for him to disconnect your bodies momentarily to spill his cum all over your belly and tights.

Usually men wouldn’t moan that loud, hiding their pleasure with grunts and sighs, but he closed his eyes and verbalised his orgasm without shame. Even tired, he puts both hands on your back, bringing you closer again and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

For a time, it was it. Silence, deep breaths and sweating bodies coming down from a wonderful high. You buried your fingers in his hair again, caressing the soft area to take on the good feeling it brought to you; he just stayed there, mapping your back with his calloused palms as if to memorise it.

But maybe, back in your senses, you both should do it. Memorise the shape of each other's bodies, feel what you should be feeling in that precious moment, enjoy… Mostly because it couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t even happen a first time, and considering the rational factor, for a lonely man you could provide some release.

“Nn-nn.” He mumbled when you tried to move out of his grasp, holding you more firmly. “I need to clean you up.”

“But Mr. Solomons…”

“None of it.” Alfie raised his head to look at you. “Inside my chambers, I’m just Alfie to you.”

That made you smile.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, my dear… Is that so.”

#alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons fic #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfic #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons fanfiction #tom hardy

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