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#tom hardy x ofc
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Not One of Many Masterlist
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Series’ cast of characters (Face claims)
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight & Epilogue
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Who let the dogs out? - Tom Hardy
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Summary: During your work-out you noticed that your puppies escaped and ran around the gym. Thankfully there is this handsome actor who's willing to give you a hand.
Pairing: Tom Hardy x OFC
Warnings: none, just some fluff
Word count: approx. 2,5k
A/N: Hi there! This is my first Tom Hardy story which popped up into my head. Probably will be just a fluff one-shot, but I have a lot of other (smutty) content that I need to write down, so stay tuned! (masterlist)
English isn’t my mother tongue so apologies for typos or mistakes. Feedback is very welcome!
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“There you go babies, enjoy your breakfast!” you squeaked as you put the big bowls with deboned turkey and chicken dog food in the middle of the puppy litter. Seven gray and white colored Pitbull pups enthusiastically dived in, wiggling their tails as they started to jump into the bowl, trying to consume as many chunks as they possibly could which made you snicker.
You and your family had owned Pitbulls all your life and once in a while you had a litter of puppies. Together with your older brother Michael you helped with taking care of the tiny, crawling creatures. Even though it was hard work sometimes you really loved watching, raising and taking care of them.
Next to taking care of the puppies, you worked as an assistent at your brother’s gym which was located right next to where your parents lived as they owned two linked lots counting three floors. 
These linked buildings were in your family for years and were renovated and split up a couple years ago. The ground floor on the left lot consisted of a spacious gym, owned by your brother who was a personal trainer and hosted box and kick-box lessons. 
The second and third floor were renovated to a livable apartment and completely yours since your brother moved out and lived with his girlfriend Laura. The three floors on the right side belonged to your parents where they kept the puppies on the ground floor.
When the pups finished their breakfast you took the bowls from the floor and cleaned them in the sink. As you wiped the bowls with dish soap you heard the door open and saw Michael walking in, giving you a smile and wave when he saw you.
“Good morning Abs, what’s up?” he asked cheerfully while bumping your shoulder playfully with his fist.
“Doing good today, the puppers just had their breakfast and after I’m done with cleaning this I will head next doors to throw some punches. What about you?” you answered while glancing over at the puppies who were running around and playing together.
“You know what, why don’t you let me finish this so you can go train right away. I have my next appointment in an hour anyway and lately you’ve been spending a lot more time around these rascals than I am. So please, scooch!” 
Without even a chance to protest he grabbed the soapy sponge out of your hand and bumped you aside with his hip which made you laugh. 
Growing up in warm and stable family, Michael and you had a very close bond and hardly ever had a fight. Ofcourse from time to time you had your arguments but they didn’t last longer than an hour. You’d do anything for your family as they would do for you.
“Okay, that’d be great, thanks!” wipping your hands as you made your way to the door which led straight to the gym. Reaching to pet some of the bobbing heads who threw themselves at your feet.
“Oh and Michael?”
“Yeah Abigail?”
“Please make sure that the door is closed, last time two of them pushed the door open and got into the gym. Dad saw it on time and caught them but they’re growing stronger and faster each day” you explained and stood up.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. Just go” as he rolled his eyes with a smirk and waved his foam covered hand causing the foam to fly around and land on the floor, getting the attentions of the puppies as they raced towards the floating bubbles. 
Laughing at the sight you quickly made your escape and gave an extra push to make sure the door was closed. Even though they were the cutest puppies ever, running around in the gym wasn’t exactly ideal as the gym guests could trip over them or worse, leave their little turds all over the floor. Believe me, that’s no fun cleaning. 
Sweat ran down your back as you were doing your last set of sit-ups while your legs wrapped tightly around the punching bag.
“Forty-seven.. forty-eight.. forty-nine.. fifty!” 
You put your feet back on the ground, hands placed into your sides as you tried to get your heart rate down which made the blood ring in your ears. Walking around the punching bag while catching your panting breath, you heard the rattling of another punching bag chain meaning someone else was also working out.
Being so caught up in your sets you hadn’t noticed this person yet, you looked around to see who it was when your eye caught him. A strong, ripped man circled around the punching bag while throwing some direct punches, hooks and kicks accompanied with short puffs of breaths and grunts. Since he was so focused with his set you took a good look at him and stared shamelessly. 
Black sleeves hugged his bulging biceps as he swung away. His shirt already started to cling to him as sweat formed on his broad back. Feet moving in a stable and quick pace, steadying his left foot onto the ground so he could kick with his right, your eyes trailed over his strong, powerful thighs. 
Damn, this man was handsome as fuck.
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As he circled around you glanced at his face, frowned eyebrows adorned his sweaty face in concentration. Plump, full lips parted slightly to let out the panting breaths, which he closed again when he kicked the bag twice and clenched his jaw. 
Even though you haven’t spotted him in the gym before he somehow looked familiar to you and you tried to remember if Michael had mentioned a new member. Just when you were about to look away the stranger looked your way and caught you staring at him and then it hit you.
Well fuck me.
This wasn’t a stranger at all. Well sort of since this was the first time he trained here but holy shit, it was Tom fucking Hardy. Your breath hitched in your throat as he gave you a panting side smile, lowered his hands and made his way towards you. Your stomach flipped and your just lowered heart rate started to go up again. 
“Hi darlin’, I didn’t mean to interrupt your sit ups sets, that was quit a beast tempo you got there” he said while he wiped the sweat off of his brow with the back of his hand.  
“Oh ha, well thank you. You’re not having a bad pace yourself!” you answered while you tried to keep your cool, being a bit starstruck. 
You had developed a small crush on him from the moment you saw him appear in Inception, followed by Warrior and The Dark Night Rises. And now this handsome man was standing right in front of you, his towering presence gave you a nervous but also exciting feeling.
“I’m Abigail by the way, are you here for a training with Michael?” you asked him while taking your gloves off.
“Ah hi, pleasure to meet you I’m Tom. You are Michael’s sister right? I contacted him yesterday since we will be filming here for the upcoming three months and I was looking for a nice gym to train in the meantime. Friend of my knows Michael and told me about his gym” he explained while following your action and taking his own gloves off. 
“I’m a bit early tho but he texted me that I could already get in and start my warm-up. Hope I didn’t interrupt your training?” one hand scratched the back of his head while blue-greenish eyes bore into yours. 
“Uh no! No not at all!” you exclaimed. “I’m sure Michael will be here shortly and I’m finished anyway. You care for some water or maybe a shake?”
“Well I wouldn’t say no to that!” Smiling at your proposal you walked toward the small bar where you sorted out the drinks as he sat on the bar stool. God his smile turned your insides into jelly.
The two of you had an easy going conversation which, thank God, put you more at ease. Flowing from between him telling you a bit about his new job where as you told him about your family, the gym and mentioning the puppies next door.
“No way! You’ve got Pitbulls pups?” he asked excitedly and leaned over the bar towards you.
“Yeah we do, seven to be exact” beaming at him. “Would you like to see them?”
“Oh babe, please. I would love that! They’re one of my favorite breeds!” he jumped off the bar stool, clapped his hands excitedly and smiled broadly at you. His enthusiasm was infectious and as you made your way around the bar your smile faded from your face when there in the middle of the gym, was sitting one of the puppies, tilting his head and staring at you.
“Oh no..” you said when you saw that the door, which lead towards the room next door where the pups were, was ajar. I did gave the door an extra push, right?
You quickly grabbed the tiny pup and made your way towards the room next door and peaked inside to see if some of the pups were still inside but to your annoyance there weren’t any and a small curse slipped your lips.
“Abigail, I’ve found two puppers over here!” Tom shouted from the gym and you quickly put the pup you were holding into the room behind the knee high fence to make sure he couldn’t make it’s way back into the gym. 
“Coming!” you responded and as you stepped over the threshold you bumped into Tom who held the two pups. 
“Woah easy there!” He laughed and handed them over to you, his hand brushed yours which made the hairs in your neck stand up while you tried to suppress a shiver from running down your back.
“Nice place, this yours?” Tom asked and looked around while you placed the pups behind the fence.
While you explained to him that your parents owned the place and you lived next door above the gym, you walked back to hunt the four remaining pups together.
You decided to split up to look for the other ones and quickly enough you found two and Tom one, meaning there was only one left. Together you searched the gym, looking in the changing rooms and behind the bar while the conversation kept flowing. Mostly you talked about dogs and when you asked him about his he began to smile broadly and rambled on.
“…and when I finally did find him he was all covered in mud, so the whole ride back I had to drive with the windows down because of the smell. It was really bad” you both laughed as he told you the story about his dog when his eye caught the last puppy.
“Quick, go that way so we can surround him and block it’s way” he said while pushing you softly, feeling his warm hand linger on your arm which made your heart flutter.
The last pup crawled beneath the vending machine and scooted all the way to the back, Tom covered the left side as you quickly made your way to the right and dropped to your knees. Both reaching out to grab the pup but unfortunately you both couldn’t reach him. 
“Maybe we can try to move the machine a bit so we have more space to grab him” you said while leaning back onto your heels and placed your hands onto the side of the machine.
“Good plan, we have to act fast so he doesn’t stand a chance to move further” he answered and made his way over, hovering over you as he placed his feet on each side of you, feeling his muscular thighs touching your back and side, his warmth radiating you as he placed his hands on the machine as well. You swallowed the lump in your dry throat which was forming caused by his touch and counted down.
“3.. 2.. 1..” both of you pushed against the vending machine which moved a few inches. 
“Quick!” he ordered and you leaped forward, both hands grasping the pup which tried to escape and move further away just like Tom predicted. As you tried to come back up again your knee slipped from underneath you, accidentally kicking Tom’s legs further apart which made him lose his balance. He rapidly placed one hand on the floor right next to you while his other hand landed on your lower back, trying to break his fall. You gasped as his broad, sweaty chest covered your back and felt his warm breath hit the back of your neck.
Oh. My. God. Was this really happening?
Feeling the vibrations of his laugh rumbling through his chest, your cheeks flustered as he got up, pushing himself off from the floor and your back. 
“I’m so sorry about that!” he laughed and you couldn’t help yourself as you burst into laughter and reached for his hand he extended to get you back on your feet. 
You looked at him as he kept grinned at you, still holding your hand and glanced at the puppy.
“You are a little troublemaker, now aren’t you?” he said in a high pitched, so called dog voice, and petted his tiny head.
“Oh you have no idea, and this isn’t the first time this has happend, right little guy?” you said as you brought the pup closer and placed a kiss on its head.
“Abs! We’re missing one pup!” you heard Michael shout as he kicked the door open and looked around with a slight panicked expresion which soon faded as he saw you holding the missing pup while standing close to Tom.
“Ah I guess you found him and met our newest gym member”
“Yeah I certainly did” you answered and glanced at Tom who still had this adorable grin plastered across his handsome face.
“Okay cool! I fixed the door by the way, I noticed that it didn’t close properly so I just went to the store to fix it. So now we’ll be sure that these brats won’t escape to the gym anymore” he huffed and pointed at the pup in your hand.
“Ah perfect. Saves us some trouble next time!”
“Yes, well Tom, let’s have look at your schedule I’ve set up for you and then take it from there, shall we?” Michael asked Tom and made his way towards his office to get Tom’s schedule.
“Enjoy your work-out, I guess I will see you around, Tom” you breathed and smiled at him while walking towards the door to put the pup with its brothers and sisters.
“Yeah, definitely. Thanks for the warming up. It was.. fun” he smirked and followed your brother to his office but only glancing back over his shoulder to give you a wink.
Oh boy.. this man!
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azhdakha · 2 years
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Does anyone also feel like ficwriters in Hardy fandom could add more OFCs of color in their fics, especially when they have a picture of the character, or it's just me?
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ingeniousmindoftune · 2 years
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Tom Hardy fanfic, any ideas?
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justrainandcoffee · 25 days
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Deal (Tommy Shelby vs. oc!Solomons) + (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 1
“You're a lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf.”
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Masterlist
Summary: Why is Thomas Shelby in front of Mrs. Solomons? Just business. Tommy just needs information. But first he needs to deal with Rose Solomons who, unlike her husband, has no sympathy for the man sitting in her office. And yet, they know how to make a deal. "A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby."
Warnings: Mentions of dead, killing. Allusions to sex. Mentions of physical violence. Misogyny.
Words: 4.5k. || Special thanks to @look-at-the-soul who helped me today 🙃♥️.
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1924.
Yesterday
"The bastard is a fookin' ghost!" yelled Arthur.
The Garrison was empty except for those members of the Peaky Blinders, allowed to be there. There was a person that they couldn't find. An Irishman called Nicholas Baker, possible member of the IRA. Last time they saw him, it was he when he shot a blinder and left him to die in the streets. He escaped before Arthur or anyone else could catch him.
Since then, the brothers and the rest of the gang were looking for him no succeed. Not just because he killed a man they know, but also because they were sure he was a spy.
"Maybe he's dead," suggested Isaiah.
"No. He's alive and living in London." This time, Tommy Shelby's voice could be heard all over the place. "And Elias is not the only person he killed. And his real name is Sean Patrick O'Finn."
Tommy dropped a newspaper in front of his brother and Arthur read it out loud.
"His own sister! He fookin' killed his sister!"
"And tried to killed his wife as well, according to the neighbours. She escaped." Tommy sat in his usual place as he lit up a cigarette and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He looked at Arthur and the rest of his men.
"We have nothing, then! He can be in middle of fookin' Russia by now." Arthur was frustrated as usual.
"I don't think so. I think he's still there in London, and as we know, police is useless. London is a big city and they don't care. People are killed every day" Tommy lit another cigarette "but I'm going to find him. And I'm going to put a bullet in his head, too."
"You don't know where to start, Tommy!" Arthur furrowed brow and look at his brother.
"Yes, I do know where to start. I need to talk to his wife."
"But do you know where this woman is, Tom?"
"Yes."
.
The Solomons residence in London was quiet. Rose was working and Alfie just arrived there over an hour ago. He was about to rest his back in bed when their maid announced that he had a call.
"It's Mr. Shelby," the woman said. She saw him do a grimace, but he said nothing to her.
"Thanks, Doris."
Alfie entered his office and closed the door behind before picking up the phone. Every time Tommy called it meant problems, usually for him. But this time what Tommy said, took him by surprise.
"Are ya mad?"
"I just need her this time, Alfie."
"She will kill ya, mate."
"No, she won't. Your wife isn't a killer."
"Maybe. But the women around her are. Honestly, Tom, they're a pack of fuckin' bloody wolves claiming for men flesh. You're a little lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf. Rosie is the leader of that pack, if she gives the order next time I'll see ya it'll be in your own fuckin' funeral... If I find your body." On the other side of the line, Tommy opened a drawer and picked up some papers and started to take some notes. Sometimes Alfie exaggerated, especially if he was talking about his wife. As far as Tommy knew, Rose Solomons just worked helping women in need and in the streets fighting for equal rights. The few times he saw her in Alfie's place she didn't seem to be a menace to anyone.
"They're just women, eh?"
"My Rosie isn't just a woman, Tommy. She's me wife." Alfie sighed "Rosie will decorate the fuckin' Christmas tree they put on her workplace with your balls."
"I'll take a risk, then. Just wanted to inform you."
"Fine. But I'm not going to tell her yet. I prefer she knows it on her own… good luck then, Tom."
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1924.
Today. London.
It's only 7am and the Solomons were making love for the second time in the morning. Rose didn't know what her husband was thinking, or feeling, that he had waking up so passionated but she wasn't complaining either.
"Alfie… I can't… god…" her back arched and her toes curled once last time until she fell on the mattress, completely satisfied. She could feel Alfie finish as well.
The man stayed on top of her few minutes more, catching his breath, before rolling on his back, laying next to her. Alfie opened his arms and invited her to be against his chest.
"Are you fine?" she asked kissing his neck.
"Feelin' like a God now, luv. Why do ya ask? You're talking like we never fuck like this before."
"I ask, because I know that sometimes you use sex to channel your frustrations and I just want to know you're fine."
"I'm perfect, Rosie. Gimme some time and we can repeat it."
She laughed. "No way you still have energy, Al. I can't, I've to work. Tonight, maybe."
In response, Alfie kissed her. That same night, probably she wants to kill him. He had talked to Tommy the day before and she didn't know. Alfie was just trying his best to calm her before the storm. Although spending time with her, it was always beautiful. The kiss continued until she pulled apart slowly. He caressed her cheek. Rose knew that Alfie definitely was hiding something from her, but she didn't know what. After one last brief kiss, she sat down in bed and then walked to the bathroom to take a shower.
Alfie stayed in bed, thinking about his friend going to his wife's place. In all those years, over a decade since it was founded, he visited her school just twice. Once when it was inaugurated, when they met each other again, and the other one after the war. They had an implicit deal: "You don't interfere with my business and I don't interfere with yours" even if they asked each other for some advice, suggestions or help. He was a bit worried about her, even when he knew that Tommy wasn't going to hurt her.
When Rose went out the bathroom, she found him sitting in bed, stretching his back, ready to have breakfast. She approached him and played gently with his hair.
"Thought you're going to join the shower."
Alfie put his hands on her hips and pushed her down on his knees. She was wrapped with a towel and when Alfie kissed her shoulder, he smelled the fresh soap on her skin.
"Ya didn't invited me."
"Since when you need invitation?" she chuckled and put her arms around him. Her hands were stroking the back of his neck. Rose was staring at him, "are you sure you're fine?"
"I am, Rosie."
"Okay," she didn't believe him, but she wasn't going to pressure him either. Instead, she kissed him and he reciprocate immediately. Her towel fell on the floor and she felt him ready to be with her once more.
Never two without three.
.
Arrow house
By the dawn of the next day, every Shelby knew where the leader was going. If they had any opinion about it, they didn't share it. A car was parked outside Arrow House with three men in it.
"I'm going now," announced Tommy. His black coat was over a chair and he took it. "Johnny Dogs and the Smiths are coming with me."
Arthur chuckled. "Johnny Dogs? And the Smith brothers? Ain't too much, Tom? Four men to visit just a bunch of pussies and tits? They're just chicks."
"Not according to Alfie."
"According to fookin' Alfie! The fookin' Alfie! Ya believe him?"
"Yes. Alfie will never allow me to be near his wife, if he didn't know now that she's safe. I know that. And if she's safe that means she's surrounded by an army."
"Are ya planning to kill them?"
"I don't kill women, Arthur. And I don't want problems with Alfie. It's just in case."
"So take me with ya!"
"Arthur, no offense but you don't know how to deal with a Solomons. Stay here and take care of the business, eh? I'll be back at night, probably or tomorrow."
"Tom! Tommy!" the eldest brother yelled but the other man already reached the door.
"Goodbye, Arthur. Tell Pol, that I left her a letter under the flowerpot."
.
Pebblebrock was Rose Solomons' former manor and prison hell at the same time. Now it was a beautiful school for girls and at the same time it served as a roof for some women who had run from their abusive homes.
As the owner, she was the one in charge even when she had several women in which she trusted working with her side by side. But the final decision on everything was always hers.
Alfie, and Tommy too, were right. The place and Rose, were surrounded by women specifically trained to kill. It wasn't uncommon for men to try to reach those who they already hurt. The rules were crystal clear MEN ARE NOT ALLOWED IN PEBBLEBROCK. The ones who didn't understand the warning were now resting eternally in a cemetery.
Men were only allowed if they were doctors or priests. The institution had nurses and two nuns who volunteered to help there. But sometimes a doctor was required, same with priests. Any other men should call for an appointment, only under that circumstances their entrance were allowed.
.
"Look at this fucking place."
From the road, Tommy, Johnny Dogs and the Smith brothers were watching the entire property. The gardens extended beyond their sight.
"Full of pussies, it's my fucking paradise. An all-you-can-eat-fucking restaurant" commented Gregory Smith. Except Tommy, the rest of them laughed.
.
Rose heard the crows. That was never a good signal.
"Now who?" she thought for herself. A lot of names crossed her mind, but none of them was the right answer.
Five minutes later a knock on her office's door brought the answer.
"Who?" she asked not believing her ears.
"Mr. Thomas Shelby, Mrs. Solomons" repeated the woman in front of her. "He says he needs you."
"The Thomas Shelby?"
But unaware of who he was the other woman didn't respond.
"Yeah, well. Tell him I'm coming."
"There are three other men with him, Mrs. Solomons."
Of course.
The day was beautiful. Cloudless sky and almost no wind. It'd be perfect if not for Tommy Shelby in her property.
"Didn't you read the sign?" she said greeting them "men are not allowed here."
"Good morning, Mrs. Solomons," said Tommy with deep voice.
"It is, Tommy. It is."
It always was intrigued him that a man like Alfie could be so devoted to a woman who barely reached his shoulders. His Rosie. Alfie Solomons could start a war against the king and the Pope if something happened to that woman.
Gregory Smith had another idea.
"We don't follow rules, sweetheart. We're the peaky fucking blinders."
"The Peaky who?" Rose looked at the man "Who the fuck are you?"
"The audacity of this bitch. It's a Solomons, eh?"
"Gregory…" warned Tommy.
"Yeah. I'm a Solomons. Proud of it. But I'm quite dumb, Gregory. So I need your help, I only know how to count to two. Like, one, two… what's next?"
"Three."
BANG.
A woman stading behind Rose was holding a gun.
The bullet impacted his head. The man was already dead when his body collapsed on the ground. Rose just looked her pocket watch and then clicked her tongue.
"Men are not allowed here," she repeated. "You understand the warnings now or you what to be the next?"
Tommy looked at the dead body.  The blonde woman behind Rose was staring at him and Tommy knew that she wasn't joking. One more step and it couldn't be any difference between a Gruyère cheese and him.
Tommy sent Johnny Dogs and the remaining man again to the car. He also gave his gun to his friend.
"Ya sure, Tom?"
"Just go, Johnny."
When Tommy turned around again, he saw the woman extending her arm, she moved her hand "gimme the fucking cap."
Again, Tommy did what she said. She gestured him to follow her.
The interior of her office was elegantly decorated. An expensive rug on the floor matched the wallpaper and the mahogany desk. Lots of books were perfectly ordered on the bookshelves. Rose Solomons invited him to take seat on one of her velvety armchairs. Tommy followed her with his eyes. Now his cap was over the head of a marble bust representing Aphrodite, just behind her, looking at him. The woman sat behind her desk and put her hands under her chin.
"We have a beautiful garden here. A greenhouse full of exotic flowers and plants. Was your man married? I'd like to send the widow some flowers."
"He wasn't."
"Better, then."
Her brown eyes never leave his blue ones and same as Alfie, he felt she was trying to anticipate his movements. But Tommy didn't express any emotion.
"So? What the hell is doing Thomas Michael Shelby here? My husband isn't here."
"Not looking for Alfie."
"That's fucking new considering the mutual obsession you have with each other."
Tommy curved his lips, barely smiling. "I'm here purely for business, Mrs. Solomons."
"I'm not the kind of person you do business with."
"You are."
Both of them remained in silence for several seconds. Probably she was unaware of it, but Tommy noticed some mannerisms in her that he had witnessed in Alfie before. She was thinking while playing with her fingers. Impossible to say who copied who.
"What kind of business? Illegality has no place here," she finally said.
"I need to know where a certain man is."
Before she could say something Tommy saw the door opening and a beautiful woman in her mid-forties, entered Mrs. Solomons' office. She greeted him with a movement of her head and then started to talk to Rose in French but she stopped her almost immediately.
"This isn't going to work now, Geraldine. The man knows french," she said pointing to him "same as Alfie he fought in France during years. Tell Edith to come. She speaks Hebrew."
Geraldine nodded before leaving again.
"You do that often? Speaking other language in front of strangers?" Tommy settled in the armchair.
"Don't you do the same? I'm sure that speaking Romani is very useful if you want to express something to a friend or relative but you don't want the other to know what are you saying. Don't judge me, Mr. Shelby."
Edith, Tommy asummed it was her, was barely in her 20s, probably she was still a teen. Young and with a cheerful face, the girl approached Mrs. Solomons and both of them started to talk in Hebrew, a language he couldn't understand. For a moment, Rose looked at him sideways.
"Thanks, Edith" she said and the girl left without looking at Tommy. "One of your men tried to sneak in my school. Or they're fucking dumbs or they're really ready to visit God."
"Fucking hell…" Tommy rolled his eyes before breathing deeply. He was sure it wasn't Johnny Dogs but the other Smith. "Listen, Mrs. Solomons, I didn't give the order. I didn't know."
"I know, he acted by his own. Good news is he's alive. Bad news is my girls are taking care of him. It depends on you what I'm going to do with him. Alfie knew you were coming, didn't he?"
"I called him yesterday."
Rose sighed "Yes, of course he knew. Of course he fucking knew," his actions that morning now it made sense to her. Not because it wasn't unsual for them to have sex in the morning, but because there was something in his eyes that his mouth wasn't saying. And after all those years together, Rose knew him very well. "Anyway… what do you want do with your man, Mr. Shelby?"
"Can I smoke?"
"If you go next to the window and put your hand with the cigarette out, I don't have any problem. But I don't want smoke here."
She saw how he stood up and walked towards the window. That one in particular faced one of the gardens where the rosebushes were. In spring and summer, the sweet smell of roses invaded her office and it was something that she really liked.
When that morning Arthur asked him why he took three men with him just to visiting a school and women's residence, Tommy  was exploring his chances. Better Gregory Smith than him. He trusted Johnny Dogs, he was a loyal, obedient man. But the Smiths…
"Kill him if you want," Tommy finally said "if my man can't follow my orders, then he should face the consequences. This is your place after all, Mrs. Solomons."
"Edith told me he was screaming that he wanted to avenge his brother."
"Yes. The one you kill it was his brother." Tommy glanced at her. A ghost of a smile was on his face.
"I never killed anyone, Mr. Shelby."
"You don't need to hold a gun and shoot to be a murderer. Most of the murderers just give the order behind their desks."
"Well, he'd be alive if he hadn't been an asshole. It's all about the rules, Mr. Shelby. The sign is there for a reason and if you ask me, you don't seem very concerned about your man's death."
"Rules, eh? Something tells me you're not very fond to follow them, either, Mrs. Solomons. How was the prison?" Tommy blew another puff of smoke out the window, but kept looking at her.
"Pretty cold. Full of cooties and rats. I named one in your honour, that's a tradition that we the Solomons have. Name a goat, name a rat… How's Arfah, by the way? Alfie misses him."
"Thanks for the honour, Mrs. Solomons. Arthur wanted to come. I told him he doesn't know how to deal with a Solomons."
"Oh," she grinned. "And you do?"
"I'm pretty confident about it. It worked in the past."
"I have no doubts about it. But I'm not my husband, Mr. Shelby. I don't fall for a pair of blue eyes and a chiseled face and most of all, I don't trust men."
Tommy threw the remaining of his cigarette in a basket that was there and walked again to the seat in front of her. He crossed his legs and rested his hands over his stomach.
"Do you want to fuck me, Mrs. Solomons?"
"Yes. Just bring me a bottle of cyanide to accompany the moment. And then I want to hug a black mamba. Your place or mine?"
Tommy chuckled. "Wherever you prefer, sweetheart."
Far away from being intimidated by the confidence he was exuding, Rose just scratched her chin.
"Alfie accepted? I mean, if this is the way you deal with a Solomons..."
"Never asked."
"Oh, you should have. The answer maybe could suprise you. But, let me tell you something, Tommy. Can I call you Tommy?" he nodded. Rose left her armchair and approached the man. He followed her with his eyes. Her face was now in front of his, their noses were touching. Both pair of eyes were staring at each other. Tommy felt her breath on his skin "I know who you are, Tommy. Reputation precedes you. I know how you do business with women. But here's the thing: I'm not them. And yes, I'm a Solomons, yes Alfie and I we have lot of similarities. But I'm not Alfie. I'm not interesting in you as a man and if your cock is the only thing you have to offer me, you're wasting your time here… sweetheart." Rose inhaled deeply "God! I never killed anyone, but I swear the devil keep tempting me. How about having your head as a trophy hunting hanging on this office? But…" Rose moved her head back again "as I said, I'm not a murderer."
"Alfie is a lucky man, Mrs. Solomons," Tommy said once she returned to her seat behind the desk.
"Is he?" She tilted her head.
"Believe me." Tommy straighted on his armchair "and I'm sure If something happens to him, I'm sure you're going to heard the devil that keeps telling you to kill someone."
"Be sure of that. If anything happens to my Alfie, the only one who can stop me is Alfie himself. I hope nothing happens to him, EVER. You know about it, don't you?. Your late wife, we knew what happened. I can't imagine the pain."
"No, you can't imagine. But I'm getting over it." Tommy cleared his throat "Mrs. Solomons, I need information."
"In exchange of…"
"Mutual respect."
Rose snorted. "Yes, sure. Alfie could be delighted when I tell him. Information means business, Mr. Shelby. And whiskey is for business, innit?"
She opened a cabinet in her desk and put a bottle of whiskey with the Solomons logo on it. Behind her, were two glasses that she grabbed. A rose was engraved on them.
"I didn't know you drink," he said.
"Only in very few occasions. I prefer just tea for the rest of the day. So? You tell me."
Tommy drank a sip of whiskey before talking again. In his mind the image of Elias dead on the streets of Small Heath appeared again. Contrary to Gregory Smith, Elias was a good man. Her widow was pregnant and a payroll wasn't enough for the woman to compensate her for her husband's death. Yet, it was the only thing that Tommy could do.
"I'm looking for Mrs. Baker."
"There are several, Tommy. It's a very common name. Any details?
"It's an Irishwoman. I don't know her appearance but her husband killed her sister-in-law. It means his own sister."
"Sonia," mumbled her, "but the last name isn't Baker. It's O'Finn. Although she said that prefers her own surname. I'm going to keep that information to me until you tell me what the hell is going on."
From the murdered committed in Birmingham to the one in London's underground. Tommy told her about his suspicions that O'Finn was a member of the IRA and how he, Tommy, was now a target of them. Again.
"If that's true," she replied "then no matter what, your head already had a price and it's not going to be me the one hanging it on my office, but them. Nowadays it's very easy to send a message to the other side of the map. A telegram or a phone call… I don't understand why do you want to talk to this woman if he already communicated with his people."
"Because I don't think he did that. He's hiding. He's a fucking rat."
"Ok. Well, there's a lot of problems first. Mrs. O'Finn, she's not in conditions to talk. Even if she can, you're not allowed to be near her and this is not negotiable. These women are under my wing. Not you, not fucking Churchill can be near them. I don't give a fuck if you bring an order from the fucking president of I-don't-know-where. Understood? I have women specialized in talk to women with the kind of trauma that Sonia has, so, think about twice before suggesting another way to do this."
"The less people know about it, the better, Rose."
She pointed to the door, silently. Tommy sighed. "Fine. But I prefer that you can be present. And me too. Or at least I want to hear everything by myself."
"Agree. We have a place we can use. I need to tell you, or better say, reminder you that Sonia is highly traumatized. Yes, she's alive but the price she paid…" Rose stood up again but this time she walked to one of her bookshelves and picked up a carpet, although to do it she had to climb a ladder. "Tommy, I don't have this rule of "men aren't allowed" just because I'm fucking misandristic bitch, I'm not. I believe in equal rights. I fight for equality. I have that sign because people here, women, kids… are afraid of your kind. I have a register for every single woman that lived here since 1911 when I inaugurated this place. Open the folder."
Tommy obeyed and his first reaction was exactly what Rose hoped to get "Shit…"
The first page was the document of a woman who lived there in 1914 before volunteering as nurse in France, Rose never saw her again. Her name was Rita Brown, 20 years old. She escaped from her house because her father was an abuser. He ended up cutting her face marking a cross on her.
"I don't allow men, because we don't know what kind of bastard will cross that gate. Your man, that Gregory, he's not the first. Dozens before him, I'm genuinely surprised that if you talked to Alfie yesterday he didn't mention my women."
"He did."
"So you knew."
Tommy nodded and Rose studying his face laughed . Suddenly she understood. "You bring this bastard on purpose! You fucking did! You wanted him dead. Fucking hell, Tommy. I heard things a lot of things about you and I'm still impressed. The brother, too? You wanted me to rid off the other guy, too?"
"Why not?"
"Fine. I don't give a shit. One less." She returned to her seat and rang a bell. The same young girl called Edith appeared. Both of them talked in Hebrew again and Edith went out again once they finished. "We have an agreement, it seems. Now my payment."
Tommy opened his coat and placed two payrolls on her desk.
"I appreciate the effort," she said no looking at the money. "But I'm not interested it in cash, although if you don't want it. I can use it to buy something for the school like a new piano for the girls and some violins. A donation."
"I don't want it," he confirmed "then what's your price, Mrs. Solomons?"
"A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby. I want a man dead."
"Who?"
"Churchill's right hand man."
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Next part.
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...so? 👀
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raincoffeeandfandoms · 6 months
Text
Princess (Dad!Alfie Solomons & OC!Allie Solomons) + Tommy S.
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Summary: "You're a princess now, daddy," said Allie Solomons, a five-years-old girl, to her father. A tiara, make-up and one of the capes her mother had were now part of Alfie's attire. Tommy couldn't believe his eyes when the same afternoon went to Margate to talk to him. "I'm busy and I'm a fucking princess, Thomas, what do you want?" But for her, the arrival of the man is nothing but the opportunity to do another makeover.
Warnings: None. <- But I don't know if Tommy agrees with that 💅. 😂.
Words: 1.5k
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1929
At five years old, Allie had only been living with the Solomons for two years. Her parents had adopted her in 1927, but even before that Alfie and his wife had known how to love the child. And that was her now: she was their daughter. A little Solomons through and through.
Her mother had a doctor appointment so that afternoon only Allie, Cyril and her father were alone in the house. Their chihuahua too, but probably Beast was running around the beach.
In Alfie's opinion, Cyril had never looked so handsome as after the girl had painted his paws. Allie had stolen her mother's make-up and had decided that Margate's living room would be a beauty parlour that day, and the dog had been her first customer.
The man said nothing when the little girl came behind the sofa where he was sitting and climbed onto a chair and began to comb his hair. There wasn't much she could do with his short hair, but she had managed to put in some pearl hair clips her mum had.
"With Mommy's hair I can do more things," she said, "but you look pretty. Can I put a crown on you?"
"You can."
"It's like the ones on your hands," she said, "but prettier."
"My tattoos aren't pretty?" Alfie looked at the girl carefully. Her grey eyes bored into him for a moment and then she grabbed one of his hands with her own, which was too small by comparison.
"They're dark. I'd put flowers on them."
"Flowers?" Alfie chuckled. Actually living with a girl made everything different. He'd stopped shooting seagulls to spend his afternoons sipping tea in little cups he could hold with just his little finger and his desk once filled with business and legal papers was now a collection of drawings of flowers and colourful butterflies that Allie had given him. And it was something he wouldn't trade for anything.
"Because flowers are nice," he said. "But it's okay. Mummy likes your crowns, whenever she holds your hand she's stroking them."
Alfie followed his daughter with his eyes as the little girl opened a boot that held her toys. The tiara she pulled out of there was legitimate. Alfie had given it to her on her last birthday and the gems in it were real. That's why she kept it there in its original velvet case, wrapped in a shawl. "So that nothing happens to it," she had said.
Alfie had gone from wearing his usual clothes, while listening to the radio to having pearls in his hair, a tiara and a shawl pretending to be his cloak. According to Allie, it was mandatory attire.
But that wasn't all. For as Allie Solomons had said, this was a beauty parlour. And if Cyril hadn't escaped the manicure, neither had he. In the next few minutes, his father's nails, and some of his fingers, were a pretty pastel pink. Which of course he matched with blue eye shadow and pink lipstick.
The life of being the father of a little girl.
But Allie, perched on her father's lap with make-up in hand, was focused and frowning. That was more work than doing her mother's make-up because now she had to dodge the beard that was getting in the way of the blush. Occasionally, without saying anything, Alfie would glance at her. He must really love his daughter for a gangster like him who had killed almost 40 people in his life, not counting the war, who had earned a valid reputation for imparting fear in London and who was considered almost a God by the Jewish community, to allow this soul to play with his face as a blank canvas. But he allowed it, and in fact, he didn't care at all if it meant his Allie was happy.
"You're a princess now, Daddy," the girl said when she finished smiling.
"Yeah, right? I think you're right, luv. And Cyril?"
"And Cyril is the princess of dogs."
"Okay. Yes, he is." Alfie looked down at his huge pink-clawed dog, "If he could talk, he'd agree."
And as princesses drink tea, she said, now father and daughter were on the balcony of the house, facing the sea, enjoying an afternoon of tea and biscuits.
A voice they knew, made them both raise their eyes. Allie was the first to run.
"Mummy!"
"Hello, Allie. How was your afternoon?" Rose kissed her daughter's hair and followed.
"I played with Daddy!"
"Here, sweetheart," Alfie called. His wife walked towards him but stopped halfway with an amused smile on her face. "Well, Al, you look... astonishing"
"Do I? Our little girl's handiwork."
"Impressive work, Allie. Is this your parlour?"
"Yes. And Cyril was here too." During tea time, the dog had been decorated with a bow on one of his ears.
Rose, nodded without laughing. She would do it on her own when she was in the bedroom or the bathroom. It was amusing to see Cyril like that. And Alfie even more so.
"I don't suppose you wouldn't mind greeting Tommy like that, would you? He's waiting in the other room. I was parking the car when I saw him arrive too."
"Mind? Should I?" Alfie settled back in his armchair and called out to his friend.
If Tommy knew what he was going to find when he walked through the door, the answer was no. If he should be surprised, the answer was no too.
"Alfie... good afternoon."
"Yes, they are. I'm a busy fucking princess, what do you want, Thomas?"
"A princess..." That was the grumpiest, bearded princess Tommy Shelby could ever meet.
Allie was still there, playing with Cyril and trying to put another bow on him. Tommy looked at the girl who didn't seem to be paying attention to him.
"A fucking princess, yeah. See? Right? With a fucking crown."
"Yes, Alfie, I see. Well, I was coming to talk business... Your majesty."
Rose was coming through the door leading into the living room and looked at the newcomer. That she had no sympathy for the man in front of her husband was something everyone knew. And if she could tease him a little more...
"I have tea," the woman said, setting a tray down in front of both men. "By the way, Allie, why don't you show Mr. Shelby your make-up skills?"
"Really?" Allie looked at her mother happily.
"Sure. This isn't our living room today, it's your beauty parlour, love. And when you go into one it's to come out better than you went in."
From her pocket, Rose pulled out a red nail polish she had grabbed for precisely that purpose and handed it to the girl.
"Mrs. Solomons, I appreciate the change of look, but..." as Tommy stared in horror at the red polish, Alfie let out a laugh.
"I insist. You're going to deny my daughter the chance to play, Tommy? In her own home?" In what seemed (and was) a duel of stares, the two stared at each other in silence. Finally Tommy accepted his fate and held out one of his hands to the little girl who gave a little jump.
"That's what I thought," Mrs. Solomons said before turning and leaving.
"It's not so bad, Tom. It rejuvenates you," Alfie mentioned watching his daughter paint the nails of the dangerous Thomas Shelby red, "so, business..."
Business, Tommy looked at Alfie who was arranging his tiara. That he had gone there, just on business and now he was in the beauty parlour of a five year old girl. How would he go back to Arrow House and explain his red-painted nails to Polly and Arthur without them both bursting out laughing? Because they would both remind him of that for the rest of his life.
"Lipstick too, Mr. Tommy?" Asked the girl when she finished her work.
"No, Ms. Solomons. This is fine."
"Ok." she said matter-of-factly and put her things away before seeking refuge in her father's arms and falling asleep against his chest. The beauty parlour had closed for the day.
When Tommy had finished talking to Alfie, he almost ran away from the house in Margate. As he drove he looked down at his painted nails
Red right hand, now had another meaning. One he hoped he could erase before his family saw it.
But unfortunately for him, Arthur would see it. And,. in consequence, the rest of the family will know about it, too.
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leenieweenie12 · 1 day
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You're Too Sweet For Me
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Ok this is literally the first little fic I've ever written (and completed) so please give me the tiniest amount of grace, I am begging you. I am so afraid to post this but I figure, why the hell not?! Gotta live a little. Also side note, I know this is so cliche to take place in a flower shop but I am ~unoriginal~ and that's what I came up with.
Warnings: none, this is fluff
Words: 1,213
The bell over the door chimed, letting her know that a customer had just arrived. 
“Be with you in a minute!” she called from the side room where she was arranging a colorful spring bouquet. 
“S’alright, it’s just ol Alfie,” a familiar gruff voice hollered back. 
She smiled to herself and glanced at the clock above the doorway. Five o’clock, right on time. She wiped her hands on her already dirty apron and walked out to the main shop. Her dear friend Alfie Solomons was standing with his back toward her, looking at the rows of blooms spread around the room. He had his signature long black coat and hat on, his small cane clutched in one hand. 
“Is it Wednesday already, then?” she asked, placing a hand on Alfie’s shoulder. “Could’ve sworn it was still Tuesday.”
“That’s the thing about the days, love, once one ends, the next one begins,” he put his arm around her waist and gave her a small sideways hug. “Got anything exciting going on back there?” his head tipped slightly to the side room.
She shrugged. “Nothing too thrilling. Come back and give me a hand, would ya?” 
She walked ahead of him into the small area that was dedicated to arranging. In a glass vase on the counter was a sprawling bouquet of peonies, roses, and cosmos. 
“Think Mr. Klein stepped out on the missus again,” she snickered. “This is the third arrangement he’s ordered just this month for her.” 
Alfie reached out and gently touched one of the peonies with a calloused ring adorned finger, a funny sight to see from such a burly man. “Yeah, well,  I can’t blame the man. Mrs. Klein is about as irritating as they come, with that God awful nasally voice of hers constantly droning on about fuck all.” He took half a step back to admire the bouquet in its entirety. “Put some larkspur in there, add a little height.” 
She chuckled and shook her head, “You always have to have a say in my work, don’t you?” Despite her words, she turned and grabbed a few stems of the purple larkspur in the bucket on the counter and carefully added them to the vase. “But you’re always right, which you know annoys the hell out of me.” 
The man smiled and gestured with his hands, “See, there ya go, love. Perfect.” 
She smiled and turned to face Alfie, her back leaning against the counter. She looked at the older man’s face and studied it intensely, as she had countless times before. It wasn’t much of a secret that she had feelings for him. He had been coming into her flower shop for almost two years by then. He started coming every other week to pick up arrangements for his mother. Every other week quickly turned to once weekly, then every other day. Now it was routine for them; every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at exactly five o’clock, Alfie would come to the shop. He had stopped buying bouquets for his mother after her passing roughly a year before. Now he just visited her for pleasure. They had become quite good friends in that time. Alfie would often bring her some dinner if he knew she had to stay  late to fill an order. Other evenings he would take her out either to a local pub or restaurant to enjoy food and drinks. Her feelings grew by the day but she never acted on them. She figured that if Alfie felt the same way he would have made a move by that point, so for the time being she let it go. She tried not to let it bother her too much, the ache in her heart that left a pang of emptiness. Most of the time they were having far too much fun for her to realize it was even there. But every once in a while, in the quiet moments such as the one they were having in her little flower shop, she felt it. 
There was something about that day, that moment, that she felt the overwhelming urge to fill that empty void. She would never know what it was that made her do it, but she grabbed the lapels of Alfie’s coat and pulled herself to him, pressing her lips to his. At first, there was no reaction from the bearish man, but as she didn’t back off, she felt Alfie’s large hand snake behind her neck. He deepened the kiss, pushing her back against the counter. Her arms went around his neck as he moved his own hands to her waist and effortlessly picked her up to sit her on the surface. Their lips crashed together like two teenagers indulging their pubescent hormones for the first time, tongues intertwining at a fervent pace. 
When they finally released each other, Alfie took half a step back. “Fuckin ‘ell,” he said with a smirk. “Not that I didn’t enjoy that, but what the hell are you thinking, love?” 
She looked into his impassioned eyes sheepishly and gave him a small smile. “Don’t be daft, Alfie. You know how terrible I am at hiding my feelings. Don’t tell me you’re surprised by this.” She brought a hand up to his scraggly beard and gave it a pet. 
Alfie’s gaze intensified and his brow furrowed. He looked back and forth between her green eyes. searching for some sort of answer. “Darling, I-” he started before she put her hands on his chest.
“And don’t tell me you don’t feel the same way because a kiss never lies, and the way you just kissed me revealed a whole lot of truth, Alfie Solomons.”
He snickered and put his hands back on her waist. “You got me there, treacle. Not even gonna try to be coy with you. I’m just a bit taken aback is all.”
The next few hours were spent just the two of them in her modest flower shop vacillating between conversation about their feelings for each other and intimate caressing and necking. When they finally realized how late it was by the darkness outside, Alfie turned toward her with a serious glance. 
“I’m not a good man,” he declared in a serious tone. “I’ve done awful things to a lot of people.”
She closed the gap between them and laid her cheek against his broad chest, waiting for his bulky arms to enclose around her. “But you’ve never done anything awful to me, Alfie, and that’s what I care about. Everything you’ve done you’ve done for a reason. I know that.”
He wrapped her small frame up with his own body and sighed, “You’re too sweet for me, love.” He bent his head down and gingerly kissed the top of her head. 
“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” she said as she linked her arm through his and stepped toward the door. 
With the chilly night air greeting them, they strolled out to the quiet Camden street, arm in arm, both with minds racing of the future to come for their newfound romance, smiles spread wide across their faces. 
They could feel the electricity of love sparking between them, lighting up the night. This was the start of something beautiful.
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throughgoeshamilton · 11 months
Text
Revelations
A The Other Shelby story
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Pairing: Alfie Solomons × fem!reader (OC hybrid)
Summary: The Shelby sister is torn between her loyalty to her brother and his Jewish frenemy who also happens to be her lover.
Words: 1.900
Warnings: none
The Other Shelby stories: Resurrection
A/N: Thank you @cillmequick again for beta reading this and your endless support 🫂 Also tagging @buttercupsandboys because you asked me ☺️
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"So your brother still doesn't know about us?"
"No, and if you wanna keep your eyesight, it's better if it stays that way."
"Y'know, the little trick you played on me last year with your grenade... I think that makes us all even, doesn't it? I think it really does."
“I think what really makes us all even is that I'm fucking someone who betrayed the Shelby family and so is Tommy.”
She furrowed her brows as she stared at the ceiling, her hand stroking up and down her lover's broad chest that was covered with ink and hair. Her brother's wife wasn't her taste at all but she knew she had no right to talk some sense into him for marrying an Irish spy. Not when she was spending that much time with the very man who sold Tommy and her family for a deal with Sabini two years prior. But Alfie was right, she and Tommy had paid him back well when they had forced him to overthink his outrageous demand to have all of their businesses written over to him. And if the worst had come to the worst, she would've blown his arse off, lover or not.
Although she had to admit, it would have broken her heart. Even though they didn't put a name on their relationship, two years were a long time to get to know each other, to grow close. After everything that had gone down at Epsom, with Tommy reconnecting with Grace over their child and his unreasonable love for her, she had needed to spend some time away from her family, for the first time in her life ever since Mrs Shelby took her in as a little girl. She and Tommy had always been attached at the hip, from dirty streets used as playgrounds as kids to dirty business giving them money and power as adults. Still, she could not forgive his wife for coming into their life with the sole purpose of ruining it. That was the line she had drawn, the difference between Grace and Alfie. Her mission had been spying on the Shelbys from day one, working together with a man as vile as Campbell, while Alfie had been doing his business as usual, making deals, breaking them and trying to get the most out of it all. She could excuse his behaviour because that was what gangsters did and she had spent enough time around them to know what they were like. She was one of them.
Whether she made that excuse for Alfie because he was who he was to her or not, she wasn't sure. She had been attracted to him pretty early on and escaping to Camden, to him, had been a welcome change. At first, it had been mainly his sheets where she had spent her time with him - or rather his desk in his office at the bakery. It had taken them some time to take it to his bedroom, some intimacy and closeness before they would spend the whole night together and sometimes even wake up next to each other.
Whatever this was, it was good for both of them. He valued her input on business related matters, everything that didn't have to do with the Peaky Blinders, of course, and her wit and attitude she liked to give him most times. She liked the freedom she had in London, the control she could take over her own life outside of gang wars - and she enjoyed feeling wanted and appreciated by Alfie in every way.
Tommy didn't know about the more or less romantic arrangement she had with his former business partner then enemy now business partner again and if she wanted to keep up her attitude towards Grace, it had to stay that way.
“Y'know luv, I think as much as you dislike your good sister, you cannot complain, ya really can't. You were at their wedding and gave them your blessing” Alfie let her know his thoughts on her little family drama while he scratched his beard as if he was deep in thought.
She rolled her eyes at him and sat up, wrapping the thin blanket around her body to cover up her breasts as she looked down at him with a frown.
“I declined his request, I think that was enough of a hint that I do not approve of their bond.”
Despite all the bad blood between her and his bride, Tommy had still asked her to be his best woman at his wedding - just another anomaly that Thomas Shelby wouldn't have given a single fuck about if anyone had questioned why he had his sister as his closest confidant at his wedding instead of one of his brothers. It hadn't got that far because she wanted to spend as little time as possible at the wedding and around Grace’s entourage. That had been her official excuse too because “Do you know who used to grab my arse the most in the field hospitals? Those fucking red uniforms”. Of course, Tommy had known that hadn't been the real reason - or at least not the only one - but he still had had the smallest bit of hope to build bridges between the two women closest to him in his life.
“Why are you naked in ma bed and we're talking about ya brother anyway?”
“In all honesty, you started it. You're so obsessed with him” she chuckled before lying back down into his arms, making Alfie now roll his eyes at her.
“C’mere you little minx and let me show you ma real obsession.”
-
"Does my sister happen to be with you?"
"Tommy, shalom, my old friend. How can I help you?"
"I asked you a question, Alfie."
"Yeah yeah... what was that about again?"
He could hear the man on the other end take a deep breath.
"I asked you whether my SISTER is in your FUCKING BAKERY."
Alfie allowed himself a few seconds, leaving Tommy hanging by a thread judging by the heavy breathing that came from the speaker that he held against his ear.
"Hm... no Tommy, no she isn't. Why would she be 'ere eh? That woman tried to blow my arse off last time you put foot in ma bakery."
Tommy didn't believe him. He knew his sister was hiding something from him in London. That was why she was there all the time. But if his suspicions were true, and she was indeed spending time with the Jewish gangster, his old sparring partner better be sure to help him find her.
"If you happen to see her in London, tell her that I need her to come home immediately" he let him know in a strained voice before he hung up the telephone.
-
It was the two days later when Alfie made the decision to tell her about her brother's call. He had been hesitant at first. Why did her brother know about them? Had she told him? If she had, it wouldn't have bother him but he appreciated honesty, especially from the woman he shared a bed with.
"Treacle" he finally spoke up while clearing his throat, "there was someone on the telephone for you two days ago."
She looked up from the morning paper, slowly chewing on her toast some more as she raised an eyebrow at him.
"And?" she asked impatiently when Alfie didn't continue to speak.
He let out a heavy sight before speaking on.
"'t was your brother. He said you should come home immediately."
The paper made a slight crackling sound as she put it down with force, standing up with her hands pressed onto the table. If looks could kill, Alfie would've dropped dead on the spot. But he kept his calm. He knew she would be angry at him but he had his reasons to hold back this information. The more he had thought about it, the more possible it had seemed that this was Tommy bluffing. Maybe he didn't know about them after all, he was just testing the water, hoping an emergency call like that would give him the proof he was looking for - and a reason to punish her for sharing the bed with someone who once tried to fuck him over. His kid sister was the apple of Tommy's eye so Alfie didn't think he could be that cruel to her, but maybe that was the reason it had hurt him even more when he found out - or rather started to suspect - that she was indeed fucking his former enemy.
“And you didn't think about telling me earlier? Like, right away maybe, Alfred?”
Full name base was never a good sign but Alfie had known what to expect when he would finally break the news to her.
“We don't know what he wants. Maybe t’was a test. You know how he is. I tried to protect ya from him finding out.”
She dropped her head and closed her eyes for a second before pushing herself off the table and rushing towards the door.
“Tell your men to get my car ready, I'm packing.”
Alfie sighed but knew better than to talk back when she was this angry at him. She didn't have time for any discussion with him now but he could be sure to hear a few words about this from her once she was back from Birmingham.
-
As she entered the ridiculously huge mansion, John was storming through the hall, not even giving her one glance of attention. His face was red and he looked like he was ready to kill someone.
"John, what-" she tried to reason with her brother, turning around trying to make him stop in his furious tracks.
"NOT NOW!"
Shortly after him came Arthur, not looking any more cheerful. When she faced him with a questioning look, he slightly shook his head before embracing her in a short hug.
"I'll go after John but you need to talk to Tommy. He's in his office."
First Tommy's crude message he gave to Alfie, now this weird behaviour from her brothers. What the hell had happened here?
She took a few more steps into the house, crossing the grande staircase where Grace's oversized portrait greeted her, making her cringe. When she reached the door to Tommy's office, she gave it a quick knock before entering without being invited to.
"You better have a good reason to have such an anxiety-inducing message delivered to me."
Tommy stood in front of his window, not even flinching when he heard the rather annoyed tone of voice. Silence fell upon them. Half a minute passed, then a whole. She took a few steps towards him until she had reached his desk. It was only now, that she saw a pattern. He was dressed in a black suit, so had been John and Arthur when she saw them mere minutes ago. Suits were nothing special to them, but all black was a rare occasion, thankfully.
"Tommy... What happened?"
She crossed the distance between them and put her hand on his shoulder carefully, but still making him flinch. The few seconds they stood there like that felt like an eternity to her as she thought about all the people she hadn't seen yet, and John's anger. Was it Esme? Polly? One of the kids? Tommy clenched his jaw before he finally started to speak to the curtains
"Grace is dead."
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alicent-targaryen · 7 months
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ALFIE x NUN!READER aesthetic board
for @jomarch-wannabe's 350 followers celebration
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buttercupsandboys · 8 months
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Sunshine & Rainbows
Alfie Solomons x Livy (OFC) — Chapter 15
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18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️
MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3
CHAPTER 15: only love could hurt like this
Summary: The Shelby women torment Alfie and secrets are revealed ...
TW: language typical of Peaky Blinders, a touch of angst
Word count: 3273
A/N: It’s been a while, so here’s a super quick recap! (Or click here to read Chapter 14 again!)
Alfie found out Livy was missing, then beat the crap out of Tommy. A few hours later, Polly and Esme show up at his hotel room ...
This chapter picks up right where we left off. 
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“Well, go on then,” Alfie demands. “We haven’t got all fucking night. Where is she?”
Polly chuckles darkly, looking far too amused for his liking. She takes a moment to light a cigarette, raising it to her painted lips before replying. “And what makes you think I’m just going to hand over that information?”
Fucking hell.
The room goes deathly silent, save for the ominous tick of the clock, reminiscent of a bomb just waiting to explode.
… much like Alfie's stormy expression.
He’s exhausted, and his patience has officially run out. A volatile mix at the best of times, but with Livy gone, the look on his face is more than a threat. It’s a promise of violence.
But Polly doesn’t notice or, more likely, doesn’t care. Instead of backing down, like any sensible being, she stands with one hand on her hip and the other in the air, smoke dancing from her fingers, chin raised like the Queen of fucking England.
“‘Cause that’s what you said, ain’t it?” He glares at her through narrowed eyes. “You asked if I wanted to find Livy.”
“Exactly,” she smirks. “I asked if you wanted to find her. I didn’t say I would tell you where she is.”
Alfie considers snatching her cigarette and shoving it down her slender throat. Polly’s asking for trouble, pushing his buttons at the worst possible time, and they all know it. It’s almost like she wants to see him lose his temper, or at least expects it.
But he is nothing, if not unpredictable.
Despite the displeasure written across his features, Alfie remains seated. He doesn’t speak, barely even blinks as he raises his fist and cracks his knuckles, slowly and methodically, one by one.
The women watch on, seemingly unfazed, but the longer Alfie sits and stares, face like a predator stalking his prey, the more their facade begins to crumble. They are bold, not stupid, or so it seems. The minutes pass, and Polly takes a hesitant step backwards, Esme following suit, dropping her boots to the floor as they brace for an explosion.
Alfie surprises them all. He should be fucking furious, but his blood cools when he recognises this for what it is: a negotiation. And despite the high stakes, the familiarity of it all is comforting.
This is one game he knows how to play.
“Right, then.” Alfie grins as he leans back and spreads his arms wide. Everything is still fucked, Livy is still fucking missing, but at least he has something to work with. “Let’s talk, love. Why don’t you tell me what you want, yeah?”
“For you to fuck off,” Esme mutters, confidence restored now that the danger has passed.
Polly shoots her a stern look before returning to Alfie. “What makes you think I want anything, Mr Solomons?” she asks, cool and composed behind a cloud of smoke.
Alfie laughs; in another time, another place, he might genuinely enjoy their banter.
“Don’t play coy, sweetie. It’s three in the fucking morning. Now she”—Alfie waves in Esme’s general direction—“she might be here for Livy. But you?” he huffs. “You’ve got too much Shelby in you.”
Polly’s mouth falls open, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but Alfie cuts her off with a raised palm.
“I don’t want to hear it, yeah. Normally I’m happy to go along with these little games you fucking gypsies love so fucking much. But tonight, I’m going to need you to get to the point, ya hear?”
Alfie watches as Polly visibly bristles, her lips pressed in a firm line, her spine impossibly straighter. But the Shelby matriarch quickly recovers.
“Of course, Mr Solomons,” she replies, her voice and smile sickly sweet. “You’re obviously a very intelligent man.”
Polly waits for a reaction, but unfortunately for her, Alfie is a very intelligent man. So he ignores the trite tactic and gives her 30 fucking seconds to explain herself. The clock continues to tick, and he resumes cracking his knuckles; it’s a veritable symphony of unspoken aggression.
“Fine,” Polly huffs, rolling her dark eyes when it becomes clear they're doing this on his terms. “I need your help,” she reluctantly admits. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I have a son….”
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Livy wiggles her toes, delighting in the morning dew against her bare skin. The sun is low on the horizon, but it’s already promising to be a beautiful day. The air is crisp, the birds are singing, and she half expects rainbows to fall from the sky. She breathes deeply and, for a few minutes, finds peace.
Almost.
Because then she remembers what brought her here.
With a groan, Livy flops on the grass, not caring about her state of dress—or her hair, for that matter, her scarlet locks tangled, free from adornments save for a few twigs and burrs. She���s feeling quite sorry for herself as she drapes her arm across her eyes, the weight pressing her into the damp earth. If only it would open and swallow her whole.
“Well, Holy Lord God, it’s Livy Lou, queen of the fairies. What would your father say if he saw you like this?”
Livy smiles at the familiar voice, lips curling despite her melancholy.
“That we should bury our sorrows and rise like the sun,” she recites.
“Rise like the sun,” Aberama repeats as he drops into the grass beside her, stretching his long legs and propping himself on an elbow. “A mighty wise man, your William.”
She hums in agreement, grateful for the company, and together they sit in comfortable silence, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. Minutes pass until it blinds—not the light but the unfettered hope that for once feels so fucking foreign—and Livy turns away, tracing the ground, wishing she could take her father’s advice.
But her sorrows refuse to stay buried.
As she inspects the dirt beneath her brightly painted nails, Livy can’t help but wonder if she made the right decision. Which is strange in and of itself; usually, she’s so confident, trusting her gut and following it faithfully, eyes on the horizon, never looking back. It’s her life’s motto and often the only thing keeping her sane.
Except now she’s in love with Alfie—and doesn’t that just change everything?
She wipes her hands on her dress and closes her eyes to avoid Aberama’s curious gaze. Being here with him reminds Livy of those first months after escaping Bernard. It was all new then; the kind faces and open fires that chased away the darkness, smoke and songs accompanying them into the night. As joy and laughter replaced fear and pain, she was, in many ways, reborn.
How fitting that she should find herself here again.
Last night was a turning point, and Livy knows it, although she’s not ready to face the truth. Instead, it would be easier to ignore altogether, to fall into the comfortable rhythm of life on the road and let it consume her as she rides out this chapter.
With enough time and enough whiskey (or perhaps that broody Shelby gin), she might come to see this nightmare as a blessing in disguise. Livy was truthful with Esme; she missed the life, the freedom, even the creaky wheels beneath her bed.
One door closes, another opens—right?
Livy snorts before she can stop herself, drawing another look from Aberama, who she continues to ignore. Her usual optimism has bolted, much like Cyril, who is off in the bushes chasing a rabbit. This is no blessing, of that she’s sure. More like a lesson—the universe punishing her for holding too tightly onto something that was never hers to begin with.
Of course, Livy knew this day would come, but she wasn’t expecting this.
Only love could hurt like this.
His scent still lingers on her skin—warm and slightly spiced, like rum and sweat and home—and despite everything, a part of her wants him back. She misses Alfie dreadfully; those beautiful lips, maddeningly distracting as they trace the valley of her breasts, his whiskers teasing her flesh, leaving his mark behind.
Just like the mark he left on her soul, and he should be hers, even though logic and reason tell her to run and run and run.
And she will because as much as Livy hates to admit it, the truth is she’s terrified.
Not of Bernard McCall or Thomas Shelby, as one would reasonably expect…
No, Livy is afraid of Alfie.
Because if he knew about Bernard and still chose to do business with him, he couldn’t possibly love her back.
And how on earth is she supposed to survive that kind of heartbreak?
Livy shakes her head.
She’s always been impulsive, but she’s never been in love, and sometimes it’s easier to give everything up than to have it all taken from you.
She picks a blade of grass and pretends to be fascinated by the vibrant shade of green when Aberama reaches over and plucks it from her fingers.
“You know…” He pauses, eyeing Livy from beneath his low-slung hat. “I didn’t expect to see you again. At least, not anytime soon.”
Livy blushes at the unspoken question, her thick lashes kissing her cheeks as she averts her eyes. How can she explain when she barely understands herself? Everything is jumbled, and she’s never felt so confused.
“Yes, well, you see …”
She bites her lip and considers how much to share with Aberama. He’s fiercely protective of those he considers family, and Livy’s fortunate to count herself among the few not related by blood. But she doesn’t want to see a bullet with Alfie’s name on it. At least not yet.
“I’m taking precautions,” she finally replies. “Keeping a low profile for a bit.”
“Precautions?” Aberama repeats. He stares for a long minute before wiping his palm on his thigh and extending his hand. “Well, come on then. You know the promise I made to your father.”
Livy nods in relief and accepts his hand as he pulls her to her feet. She’s grateful for the help—and the lack of questions—but it’s still too much. The weight of everything is drowning her, and she needs a distraction, something familiar to ease her troubled mind.
“Aberama, darling, do you still keep that blade inside your boot?”
He flashes a brilliant smile.
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“What the fuck does Michael have to do with anything?” sputters Esme, the shock written across her tired face.
Polly ignores her, keeping her chin raised and eyes hard, refusing to wilt beneath Alfie’s probing stare.
“Michael has recently shown an interest in joining the family business,” she continues. “But Thomas has … ambitions that come with unnecessary risk. Risks I cannot allow my son to be exposed to.”
“Right…,” mutters Alfie, stroking his beard as he contemplates her words. It’s just as he suspected: a fucking mess. “And what the fuck does this have to do with me?”
“I need you to terminate the deal with Bernard McCall. Ensure Thomas no longer has access to Liverpool.”
“Why would you want that?”
“Does it matter?” she snaps. “Help me, and I’ll help you find Livy.”
His heart clenches at the sound of her name, and in that moment, he’d sign away his fortune, his bakery, anything to get her back.
But then he has a better idea.
“Tell me more about your business in Liverpool,” Alfie demands.
Her eyes flash darkly. “Our business is not your concern.” Polly exchanges a look with Esme, and her face softens. “But I’ll make you a deal, Mr Solomons. Agree to help me, and I’ll tell you more about Bernard McCall. And trust me, there are things you need to know.”
“Trust you,” Alfie repeats, the words hanging heavy in the air. “Right, well that’s just it, Mrs Gray. Trust is a fragile thing.” He strokes his jaw. “And what about your boy? Is he … fragile?”
Polly leaps forward. “Are you threatening—“
Alfie stands, towering over her with his broad frame. “I don’t make threats,” he warns, advancing slowly until she has to crane her neck to face him. “Now, you’re going to tell me about Liverpool, you’re going to tell me about Bernard, and you’re going to help me find Livy. If she’s safe, nothing will happen to your precious son, and in exchange, I will end things in Liverpool.”
She glares at him, and Alfie can only imagine the gypsy curse she’s placing on his black soul. But he’s already damned, so he returns her cold stare. Livy is all that matters now, and he’d deal with the devil—or worse, a Shelby—to get her back.
“Fine,” Polly finally agrees, spitting on her palm and extending it to him. Alfie responds in kind, and she nods, inhaling deeply from her cigarette.
“Thomas is working with a group of Americans who support the Bolsheviks,” she begins, taking a seat. “He’s importing weapons from them under the protection of Shelby Company Limited. But security is tight in London, which is why he needs Liverpool.”
Alfie briefly closes his eyes. “Fucking hell. Meddling with the Russians, that silly boy.”
She snorts. “Exactly. It’s going to blow up in his face, and I don’t want Micheal around when it does.”
“And what about Livy?” he asks sharply. “Don’t fucking tell me she has anything to do with—“
“No, not the Russians,” she reassures him. But something in her tone has him on edge.
“But what?” he demands.
Polly gives him a sad smile. “Alfie.” It's the first time she’s used his given name, and a chill runs down his spine. “I’m assuming you know that Livy had a … difficult past?”
A growl escapes from his chest, a feral sound, raw and violent. “Yeah, I fucking know. And when I find the fucker responsible….”
Alfie trails off at the look on the women’s faces.
No.
Oh, fuck no.
The table goes flying, splintering into pieces, just like his heart.
“Bernard?”
“Yes.” Polly and Esme reply in unison.
He wants to vomit.
Alfie has a strong stomach—after France, not much offends him—but when he thinks about Livy, he nearly drops to his knees.
And he will soon, to beg her forgiveness.
But for now, violence will have to do.
“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him.” He stalks forward, reaching for Polly, unable to stop himself. “Does he have her?” he roars, yanking her to her feet. “Does he fucking have her?”
Polly remains oddly calm. “No,” she assures him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Alfie lets go, visibly relieved. “Right, then where the fuck is she?”
Polly and Esme exchange another look, and he glances around for something else to throw.
“Stop with the fucking faces and tell me where to find Livy before I cut off your—”
“She doesn’t want to be found,” interrupts Polly.
“I don’t give a fuck what she wants—“
“Maybe that’s the problem,” snaps Esme, arms folded defiantly across her chest. “You men are all the same. How do we know you’re not working with Bernard?”
“Esme, shut up,” retorts Polly.
“No, you shut it. Neither of you care about her, it’s all about Michael with you, and fuck knows what he wants—“
“Enough,” roars Alfie, his temper at breaking point. “Fucking, enough. I love her, yeah, and that’s all you need to fucking know. So gather your shit, and let’s go get her.”
There’s a moment of stunned silence before Polly nods, looking relieved as she collects her bag and makes for the door. But Esme stares at him, eyes dark like the window to her soul.
“I don’t give a fuck what they say about you,” she announces, stalking forward until she’s toe to toe with him. The top of her head barely grazes his chin, but Esme speaks with a confidence that betrays her small frame. “If anything happens to her, it’s you that will be afraid of me. Do you understand? I’ll be watching you, Mr Solomons.”
She takes a few steps backwards. “Always watching,” she repeats before turning on her heel, leaving Alfie no choice but to follow.
Bloody Shelby women.
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“Fuck off, no. Categorical.” Alfie pokes the side of the wagon with his cane. “That there, right, is a coffin on wheels. If you want to travel like the living dead, knock yourself out. But you see, for my people, it’s a matter of principle, ain’t it?”
Polly sighs. “Do you want to find Livy or not? We can’t go any further by car, and it’s too far to travel by foot. So unless you want to ride a horse, this is your only option.”
“Ride a fucking horse,” Alfie mutters as he steps forward and nearly loses a shoe in the mud. “This is just fucking perfect, innit? Drag me out in the middle of nowhere, in one of your curious gypo wagons, yeah? Then you put a bullet in my fucking skull, and when my poor Jewish soul is liberated from my body—“
“I can’t fucking do this,” mutters Polly, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. She takes a deep breath and gathers her strength. “Mr Solomons, please, I implore you. Get in the fucking wagon. If there’s any hope of finding Livy, we need to move quickly.”
Alfie nods and, for once, does as he’s told.
The mud and wagon had provided temporary distraction, but now his nausea returns with a vengeance. His head is spinning, his mind frantic, desperate to pinpoint the moment where everything went so horribly wrong. How the fuck did this happen? All his men—a network of spies, a fortune in bribes—and not one goddamn whisper about that bastard McCall.
Because they’re all bad men, but there are just some lines you don’t fucking cross.
Alfie grits his teeth and settles into the vardo (which is surprisingly comfortable, although he’ll never admit it) when the truth hits him squarely in the face.
Thomas fucking Shelby.
It’s the only explanation. Somehow he knew the truth about Bernard and Livy, and purposely kept it from him to protect the Liverpool deal.
Because of the fucking Russians.
Alfie groans and runs a hand down his face, recalling the conversation in Tommy’s office. It’s all coming together now, and it’s not fucking good. Livy is gone, and he’d bet his left nut both Bernard and Thomas are searching for her, making this whole fiasco a race against time.
And here he is—creeping across the countryside in a fucking box.
To make things worse, his fate lies in the hands of not one but two Shelby women and for all he knows, he’s riding headfirst into a trap. But what choice does he have? He’s armed and angry, a dangerous mix, fueled by emotions that are entirely new, fucking raw, and he will find Livy because right now nothing else matters.
Of course, what happens after he finds her is another story.
Fucking hell.
Just 24 hours ago, he was working up the courage to share his feelings. Now he’ll be lucky if she doesn’t cut his fucking balls off.
And that’s if Livy agrees to see him.
Alfie shakes his head and sits taller in his seat. He’s negotiated ‘deal or die’ offers with some of Britain’s most dangerous men, and this is Livy. His Livy. When he finds her, he won’t give her a choice. After all, it was God himself who delivered her to his doorstep.
Some things are meant to be, and once he has her in his arms, he won’t let her go again.
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A/N: So ... let me know what you think! I really wanted this chapter to be longer, but honestly, I’ve been sitting on this for months. It got to a point where I think I just needed to publish it, so I could get creatively unstuck! 🙈
Or at least, let’s hope! 
Thanks to everyone still reading this story. I appreciate all of you xx
Tag List: @noz4a2 @confessionbrain​ @omgeternal​ @potter-solomons​​ @quarterpastmidnight​ @woofgocows​ @shaddixlife​ @redhead7799 @cillmequick​@goddessfuck @peakyscillian
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TAPPED INTO YOUR MIND & SOUL UPDATED MASTERLIST
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UPDATED OCTOBER 2022
SUMMARY
Arabella Shelby is tired of the antics of her twin brother Tommy. She hates how she is always left on the back-foot of what is going on. As a fierce and intelligent force to be reckoned with, she knows she is more than capable of dealing with the more unsavoury side of the Shelby Company Limited.
She’s made a decision that if Tommy won’t allow her to come out of the shadows, then she will make light of her own, elsewhere. But will a deal with the devil be the answer to her problems? Tommy has a proposition for Arabella and one that will see her tied to his most untrusting of business associates. Will Arabella take the plunge and start a new life in Camden, beside the most eccentric and sadistic bread makers and leader of the Jewish Gangs in London, Mr Alfie Solomons?
CHAPTER ONE: Satisfaction Seems like a Distant Memory CHAPTER TWO: SHE'S THUNDERSTORMS CHAPTER THREE: Middle of Adventure such a Perfect Place to Start CHAPTER FOUR:  Judith & Holofernes CHAPTER FIVE:  All Things are Subject to Decay and Change CHAPTER SIX:  A Fugitive, But You Don't Know What You're Running Away From CHAPTER SEVEN:  'I've Done Some Things that I Shouldn’t Have Done CHAPTER EIGHT: How Many Secrets Can You Keep?
CHAPTER NINE- You are the Unforecasted Storm
CHAPTER TEN: It’s Much Less Picturesque Without her Catching the Light
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Under the Warning Light
CHAPTER TWELVE: Have You No Idea That You’re in Deep?
As always, please support my fanfic with a reblog, or even better with a comment. Nothing makes you motivated to write like some fic appreciation,
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Not One of Many - Chapter Twenty Eight.
A thousand thank you’s for your patience with this, guys! I am so bowled over with the popularity of this, I truly am. It was a risky undertaking, to write a modern day Alfie, but I’m glad you all seemed to enjoy him as much as I did writing him. 
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Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven
Tag list - In the comments
Words - 5,119
Warnings - 18+ content, adult audience only. Minors DNI!
“So, I’ve said to this girl, you don’t bloody come into my wardrobe and start calling the shots, no way, petal, not happening, and I don’t bloody care who you are, what agency you represent, or which rich footballer you happen to be getting your leg over, I ain’t having it!”
Models. Oh, if they even dared try and test Magda’s authority within her sacred space, how quickly they got shut down for it. The ELLE wardrobe department was her chapel, and she didn’t allow anyone to sully the sanctity of such. It also made for some very amusing brunch conversation, especially for Mimi, who was sitting next to Beth, meeting both Magda and Kinga for the first time. The former she found a little scary, but very entertaining, it had to be said.  
“So, darling,” Kinga began, dabbing her mouth on a napkin as she looked across at Mimi. “I hear from Beth that you landed a role at London Life and Style! How is that going for you?”
Mimi politely finished her mouthful of toast before replying. “It’s going very well, thank you for asking. I’m learning the ropes, mostly over office dynamics, who to be in with, who to avoid, and how to keep my schedule running for the most efficiency, timekeeping wise. But yes, I’m really enjoying myself.” For Mimi, it all felt so wonderful, sitting there at a lovely restaurant, enjoying food that she’d paid for, feeling so professional with the three powerhouse career women in her company, invited into their world and accepted as an equal.  
It was a real shot in the arm for her, to be someone on her own and not just one of a rich man’s three girlfriends. She saw the way people viewed her so differently now she was out there under her own merit, and she partly had Beth’s friendship to thank for that.
“For you,” she spoke a little while later, holding out something wrapped in pink tissue paper. “Sorry it isn’t wrapped properly, but here. I thought you’d like it.”  
“Oh, you sweetheart,” Beth hummed, stopping their little tour of the small shopping arcade, taking her gift and unwrapping it gently. There inside was a dainty silver bangle with a heart charm from the small jewellery shop they’d just visited. She’d wondered why Mimi had suddenly scurried to the counter without showing her the purchase she was about to make. “Mims! It’s lovely! Thank you so much!” she cooed, placing it on her wrist and pulling her into a hug. “You shouldn't have, though! Didn’t you mention your rent was going to be a struggle?”
“Not any longer! We found a fourth person for the last room in the house, so that’s saved me a hundred quid a week, and even more with the share of the bills, too!” Her original plan to share with friends in Notting Hill hadn’t been successful, losing out on the property. They’d since found a lovely townhouse in Islington to rent, though, the fourth person now making such a property a much more pocket friendly abode. It also only took fifteen minutes on the tube to get to work.  
“Oh, that’s great! I’m so pleased for you! Oh, and before I forget, Alfie suggested the 18th for our night out, if you and Josh can make it then?”  
Mimi nodded brightly. “Yes, I’ll put it to him when I see him later, but I think that should be fine! He’s a bit nervous, bless him, but I’m so glad he’s fine with the idea of me and my ex being friends. I mean, no disrespect to Alfie, he’s my bestie, but like I told Josh, I’m becoming more your friend now as we see each other quite often.”
She was right, too, Beth thought, since she did usually see Mimi once a week now, for brunch and shopping, or to go and ride the horses together, sometimes a mix of it all, as they were doing that day after their shopping trip had concluded, Beth driving them out to the stables for a couple of hours riding over the fields. After their lovely ride out, they returned to London to have a nice afternoon with Amira, meeting up for a coffee and a walk through Richmond Park before Mimi went out on her date with Josh, the women all taking a seat and enjoying the blissful warmth of the late summer sunshine.
“Isn’t it a bloody beautiful day, girls?” Amira chirped, adjusting her sunglasses, her face absolutely pristinely made up. She’d been on a photoshoot since the early hours of the morning, so had arrived in full glam to meet her friends, Mimi sitting with her bag in her lap, rummaging through all the free skincare samples she’d received courtesy of the company she’d worked the job for.
“Can I have these?” she asked, Amira waving her hand.
“Get in there and take anything you want!” she enthused kindly. “They gave me so much, and I’ll never use it. Beth, there’s some lavender setting spray in there, wait a minute.” Reaching over into Mimi’s lap, she rummaged, pulling the bottle out and passing it over. “Here, I know you love the smell, and I can’t bloody stand it, so go on! Oh, and try this lotion as well, it’s so nice! They gave me above five of the same one!”
“Well, first Mims treating me to jewellery and now you giving me skincare goodies,” Beth began, Amira comically continuing.
“Face mask, toning water, pillow mist.”
“I feel very spoiled!” she finished, laughing at the rate the products came her way. “You’re only doing this so you don’t have so much to lug home, aren’t you?”
Amira widened her eyes. “Ahh, shit. You caught me out!” The women shared laughter, Mimi finished with her raiding for freebies and handed Amira her bag back, falling into conversation as they caught up with one another. Beth was having fun doing just that, when the incessant ringing of her phone disturbed it.  
“I’m so sorry,” she began, polite as always. “If I don’t take it, they’re just going to keep on calling me.”
“No, it’s fine,” Mimi reassured her as she answered her phone. They chatted between each other while Beth took the call, her exclaimed cry of ‘what?’ making them sit up and take notice, Amira kindly shuffling her hair around to place a caring hand on her arm when she noticed tears pooling in her eyes.  
“Are you okay, chick?” she asked, as soon as Beth had finished the call.  
“No, I’m not. I’m bloody furious!” she began, Mimi quick to offer a paper napkin across the table, Beth thanking her with a sniff. “That fucking woman! She’s now taken to emailing one of my editors about me, apparently warning him off hiring me!” she took a breath, drying her eyes and swallowing hard. “That was Piers Taylor on the phone, editor of Southside City, one of the magazines I freelance for. Luckily because we’ve had a sterling relationship for many years, he paid it no mind, only calling to give me the heads up on it, but still! She’s interfering with my bloody work now, and I will not have it!”  
Amira shook her head, continuing her affectionate rubbing of her arm, while Mimi picked up her own phone. “This ends now.”  
“Mims, what are you doing?” Beth asked.
“I’m calling her, putting a flippin’ stop to this!” Opening FaceTime, she was connecting the call before Beth had a chance to stop her, but by the time Talia had answered, she wasn’t entirely sure whether she did want to cease what Mimi was about to do. “Right, you listen to me, and you fucking listen good! We had the grace to part ways with Alfie amicably and not try to wreck his new girlfriend’s life, and I’m telling you now, you need to do the same!”
“Mimi, what the fu...” This was as far as Talia got.
“No, I’m talking, right!” Beth and Amira shared wide eyes there, neither having witnessed that amount of ire come from their cheery little friend before, not ever. “What you’re doing, yeah, it’s bloody wrong! He isn’t going to get back with you, no matter how much you hate Beth. Interfering in her work now too? Spraying Alfie’s car? Like, what the fuck? Where do you draw the line?”
“I draw the line in stating to you what I did to Alfie, this isn’t coming from me! It really isn’t! I’m fucking done with being accused of something I haven’t had anything to do with. Now, will the lot of you just fucking leave me alone! I’m happy, I’ve moved on, got a new boyfriend, I don’t need this shit, Mimi! Don’t call me again, in fact, I’m blocking you. Piss off!”
“Oh my god!” Amira cried once the call had ended, covering her mouth with her hand. “Shit, babe. You really gave it to her!”
Beth was too stunned to speak for a moment, but when she did, it was with an observation that cut the lingering anger from the air entirely. “I think you channelled Alfie a bit there, using the words right and yeah as punctuation.” They all shared laughter, Mimi shaking her head as she slipped her phone away. 
While she might have felt better for chewing her out to begin with, something just wasn’t sitting right with her, that something being that she honestly, deep down, didn’t think Talia was lying. She knew when she was, and seeing her there on the screen, her vehemence had been so very clear. She knew that sharing such a doubt would likely upset Beth, though, so for the sake of her friend, put it away at the back of her mind, but made a mental note to broach it at a later time with her.  
“Right, well I’m going to love you beautiful ladies and leave you,” Mimi began, getting up. “Give me hugs, you gorgeous people!” They instantly granted her such. She wanted a long bath before going out with Josh later that evening, so was heading back to the front of Richmond Park, where they’d met up, Amira and Beth walking with her before turning back the way they came, Amira picking them up a couple of fresh coffees from the small outdoor cart by the main gate.  
“Don’t drink it yet, babe!” she warned, Beth about to take a sip. “It’s fucking steaming hot, I just burned my bloody lip on it!”  
“Appreciated, thanks,” Beth chirped, the women taking the small path that led them away from the main hub of activity, out towards where the many wild deer of the park grazed contently.  
“So, what articles are you working on at the moment?” Amira asked, falling into step at her side.  
“Right now, I’m up to my ears in researching about a huge one relating to what we’re learning is likely considered cult like activity, a group of people over in America we’re researching. Myself and Kinga are working on it as a team, in fact, since it’s such a huge undertaking.” Amira’s eyes widened.
“What, are we talking an expose or something?”
Beth nodded, raising her eyebrows. “Yes, so we need to get our ducks in a row. It points a finger at a certain prominent individual within the corporate investment world, hence why we have a lot of ground to cover, people to interview, you know, the usual. It’ll be the biggest piece in my career to date, and I’m even receiving advice from Steve as I go, over the legalities of such, since it’s obviously an undertaking with many legal ramifications.”  
“Blimey!” Amira exclaimed, looking bowled over by the magnitude of it, asking what she could as they continued to walk.  
Meanwhile, Mimi was keeping an eye out for her Uber, watching the car move slowly along on the app, thinking he was likely stuck in traffic leading down towards the entrance to the park, since a horse-drawn hearse had just passed by. She thought how grand it was, the beautiful, black horses with their full plumage, pulling the immaculate carriage containing a coffin covered in white lilies. What a fitting way to give someone an elegant send off.  
Noticing that through her own equine endeavours (namely riding out in the rain without her gloves on) she was beginning to get chapped fingers, she rooted around in her bag, having a look through the many samples for the tube of hand cream Amira had gifted her.  
“Avocado oil, eye cream, exfoliator, peanut oil. Oh, shit. I didn’t ask her if I could have one of those,” she began, muttering to herself. “Ahh, doesn’t matter. I saw she had another.” Continuing her search, something suddenly hit her like a thunderbolt. Peanut oil. It wasn’t something commonly used in skincare. It also wasn’t a sample size. As all the little pieces that didn’t make sense suddenly fitted together, Mimi’s eyes widened in horror.  
She was sure Talia wasn’t lying.  
The harassment had to have been coming from someone they both knew.
Beth was deathly allergic to peanuts.
“Oh, Jesus!” she gasped on a sob, turning at a run, almost knocking a lady behind her clean off her feet. “I’m sorry!” she called back as she ran flat out down the path...
“Awwww, Beth look at the baby!” Amira cooed as the women came to a stop to watch the deer in the middle distance, one of the small fawns haphazardly trotting along after its mother on brand new, shaky long legs.  
“Absolutely precious,” she confirmed, taking a sip of her coffee, glad it was now cool enough to do so. Immediately, she felt that something wasn’t right, her lips starting to tingle, her throat starting to itch. She swallowed, feeling her airway beginning to tighten, panic setting in.  
“Beth, what’s up?” Amira asked, grasping her arm gently.  
“Peanuts... in the coffee... something with nut extract.” she rasped, Amira’s mouth falling open.  
“Those stupid people! I told them one was for someone with a nut allergy and checked that nothing had bloody peanuts! Fuck! Right, give me your bag. You’ve got your EpiPen, haven’t you?” Beth nodded through a wheeze, her throat tightening dramatically, passing her bag over, Amira crouching as she opened it and began to root through. “Bloody hell, mate, you’ve got so much in here!”  
She frantically rooted through until she found the orange tube containing it, straightening up again, watching as Beth fought for air. “Is this it? Beth, is this what you need?” Her rapid nods through each panicked breath confirmed it, Beth reaching, a feeling of cold dread snapping through her when Amira’s face darkened in an instant, snatching the EpiPen away. “You took what was mine, so now it’s only fair I take something of yours. Bye.” Dropping her bag to the ground, Amira turned and ran, leaving Beth standing there, with no lifeline, nothing to stop her throat from rapidly closing. It was her... it had been her all along.
Blind terror hit her square in the chest, trying to fight for air, not able to get as much as her tingling lungs required, her tongue and lips inflating, falling to the ground, searching her surroundings for someone, anyone who might have noticed her drop, suddenly then hearing her name being screamed over and over.  
“Beth! Beth, I’m here, I’m here!” Mimi, thank the stars, she wasn’t alone. “Where’s your EpiPen? I know what she did, I bloody worked it out!” Grasping Beth’s bag, she upended it onto the path, searching, panicking when she couldn’t see it anywhere, the vital piece of kit needed to prevent her friend from going into full-blown anaphylaxis. At not seeing it there, she knew then there was truly no limit to what Amira was prepared to have done in the name of cold-blooded revenge, obviously swiping it before hightailing it away, leaving Beth to her fate. “It isn’t here, it isn’t here! Fuck, what do I do? Fuck!”
No. This couldn’t happen.
“Help us, please! Help!” Mimi screamed, trying to lift Beth’s head back to open her swollen airway. “She can’t breathe! Please help us, someone! I need an EpiPen!” Turning back to Beth, she clutched her hand, stroking her head. “It’s going to be okay, babe, it will! Try to keep calm.” Pulling her phone out, she called for an ambulance, just as she witnessed two ladies running over to them, a man coming from another direction. “It’s my friend, she’s having an allergic reaction and she can’t breathe! We’re in Richmond Park, about three minutes off the pathway leading from the front gate, first little path on the left,” she began to tell the operator after dialling 999. “No, someone took her EpiPen, please hurry, she can’t breathe!”
“It’s okay, I have one, I have one,” one of the ladies who arrived with her told her, pulling it from her bag, the operator hearing and telling her to stay on the line to assess her reaction once it was administered, telling her she was sending an ambulance right away all the same. Even through her frightened tears, Mimi breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the lady prepare it, plunging it down into Beth’s thigh, a few seconds passing before she heard her take a breath, her airways opening enough to allow it.  
Mimi was shaking so hard, the man who crouched with them took her phone, explaining to the operator that the pen had been administered, his words muted to Mimi as she sobbed, stroking Beth’s face. “Are you okay, are you alright?”  
“Yes... no... I... god, Mims! If you hadn’t come back!” she sobbed, pulling her darling friend into a hug, feeling dizzy and taking her to the ground with her when she lay back, the two women crying with a mixture of residual fear and relief. They had a little moment to fall apart before Mimi helped her sit up, the two other ladies assisting, the man asking if they wanted him to wait as well, and if there was anything he could do. They told him no, but thanked him profusely, the man handing Mimi her phone before wishing them all well and departing, continuing on his jogging trail.  
“Thank you so, so much. You saved me!” Beth exclaimed, swallowing, her throat sore and still a little tight as she reached for the lady who had administered the EpiPen, watching her take her hand with a smile.
“My little boy has an almond allergy, so I have one in my bag at all times, even when he ain’t with me! You alright now, though? How do you feel?”  
“Shaken up!” As rightly anyone would, going through such. The women, who Beth and Mimi learned were called Angela and Helen stayed with them until the ambulance turned up, the paramedics assessing her at the scene and decreeing it likely the safest option to have her looked over by a doctor. Mimi cancelled her plans with Josh while Beth was being checked, telling him there’d been an emergency and she’d call him later on, making a call then to Alfie, telling him of what had happened.  
She rode in the back of the ambulance with Beth, telling her that Alfie was on his way, Mimi the first person to see him after she’d popped outside the A&E entrance, Alfie bundling her up in a hug.  
“You bloody saved her life, treacle,” he told her a little shakily, squeezing her tightly. “I know everyone used to joke about you not being the sharpest knife in the drawer, but the way you put all that together. Fuckin’ ‘ell! I just can’t... and is she alright? Can I go see her?”
Mimi kissed his cheek, squeezing his shoulders, remembering whenever he was tense, that’s exactly where that tension went to. “She’s fine, she’s obviously quite shaken up, but she’s seeing the doctor right now. I just came out here to call her mum for her and let her know what had happened.”
The truth was, Mimi only had little guesses to go on with the evidence she’d witnessed, Beth being the one to fill them in over it all after the doctor had discharged her, deeming her well enough to go home, but remain vigilant for anything further. It was as the three sat in Alfie’s lounge, the man himself bundling Beth up in a blanket and a massive hug that she shared with them exactly what had happened after Mimi had left.  
“So, we were just walking along, talking about work and watching the deer, and I took a sip of the coffee she’d bought me, which I now know why she told me not to drink while we were up on the main path, because she obviously wanted to get me far away from anyone who could help, or see what she did. I felt my lips and throat itching and swelling, and she made like she was trying to help me, looking for my EpiPen.  
“When she found it in my bag, she asked if this was what I needed, and then told me that since I’d taken something of hers, she was taking something of mine. The way she looked, her face, god, the hatred! She ran off then, I suppose from her standpoint thinking she’d just committed the perfect crime. She knew, of course, that my peanut allergy is deathly, that I could die within minutes from anaphylactic shock. She knew that right from the start, back when I was here as a journalist and she offered me some peanut butter on toast, I explained it to her then.”
She took a moment, waving her hand, feeling teary again as she leaned back against Alfie’s comforting bulk, but equally reaching for Mimi’s hand. “I know it was Angela’s EpiPen that did it, but ultimately, you saved my life today, Mims. If you hadn’t had that little wondering about the peanut oil in her bag, then all of this could have taken such a turn. I owe you a huge debt. Thank you, I love you.”
Mimi’s lip trembled, shuffling closer and throwing her arms around her, Alfie jointly hugging them both. “Aww, I ain’t had a group hug off of a few beautiful ladies in a while now!” Both women reacted at the same time, but with different words.
“Oi, enough of that.”
“Don’t you be getting any ideas!”
They shared laughter, Alfie pinching Mimi’s cheek. “Nah. I got me a great woman, and one hell of a brilliant little bestie, here. Wouldn’t change that for the world.”  
Mimi stayed only for half an hour longer, both Beth and Alfie thanking her again and again, the former telling her she’d keep her posted in case the police wanted to take her statement, Alfie calling them not long after they’d seen her into a cab at their expense at the door. With her being a little shaky still and Alfie reluctant to take her to the station in light of such, an officer came out to them to take her statement, asking too for Mimi’s details, as well as what they could give him about Amira.  
Once it was just the two of them, they sat and quietly reflected on the gravitas of the culmination.
“It’s fucking knocked me for six,” Alfie lamented, rubbing a hand over his beard, Beth next to him, Cyril half lying in her lap. He knew something different was afoot with his mummy. “I don’t half owe Talia a fuckin’ massive apology, accusing the poor cow of all this, and she ain’t even had a hand in it. I mean I know, yeah, she wasn’t exactly squeaky clean in her behaviour, but she weren’t lying when she said she’d moved on from it all. But bloody fuckin’ ‘ell, for it to have been Amira, all this time?”
Beth felt for him, to have yet another ex behave in a way that showed loud and clear that ultimately, he hadn’t known them half as well as he thought he had. “I know, she had everybody fooled into thinking she was something she wasn’t. But look, I’m fine, and it’s over now, all of this that had been hanging over us. We’re free of her messing around, her stalking, everything she was doing in an attempt to hurt me. We’ll feel the shock of it for a while, but at least we have each other. And Mims. She’s become so important to me, and she’s testament to the fact that at least with some girls, you bloody did make fantastic choices.”
He smiled then, turning to her. “I made the best one when I knew it was you I wanted my future with, though.” In the months that followed, right up until and beyond Amira facing a judge for her actions, Beth would only continue to solidify that notion, too...
Epilogue
The Burj Khalifa; it was perhaps one of the most impressive masterpieces of modern architecture in the world, the impossible height deeming it the world’s tallest building, the view from the balcony upon the 117th floor testament to that, even if it had taken Beth Solomons three days after her arrival to be brave enough to venture out upon it.  
“Ahhh, look at that,” Alfie chimed from the apartment, smiling as he watched his new bride finally step out into the sunshine. “She’s found her balls!”
Shaking her head, she blew the steam from her coffee, taking a careful sip. “Yes, admittedly I perhaps should have conquered it upon our arrival, but better late than never!”
They were in Dubai as part of their honeymoon tour, fresh from spending a week in Bora Bora, stopping off for another week in the emirates for Alfie to check in on progress at his resort currently still under construction, the huge complex now two thirds finished. His most important endeavour, though? Enjoying the break with his wife, both of them actually setting aside their need to throw themselves into their careers and instead, enjoy their life together as newlyweds.
After the chaos with Amira the previous year, Alfie had decided to propose to Beth on her birthday, just a week after Hannukah. Their families had thought it was a little rushed, but had been very happy for them all the same, Beth’s darling bubbe decreeing it to be bashert. They’d married in a beautiful ceremony in New York, at one of the most stunning synagogues in Manhattan, before they’d had their reception at The Plaza, Alfie happy to fork out the thousands upon thousands to fly all of their loved ones out there first class.  
The wedding itself had cost an eye watering seven hundred thousand dollars, and Beth hadn’t protested a moment of it, like he worried that she might. She’d eased into being the fiancé, and then the wife of a multi-millionaire with ease, once she’d gotten used to it. In fact, Alfie was well underway to making his first billion at that point, so why not celebrate with a huge, luxurious wedding? As long as he’d let her buy him a pint and lunch a few days a week, and pay her way with what she could manage, all was fine in her mind.  
It had truly been a lavish affair, Kinga and Magda acting as bridesmaids, and Alfie having Steve and Marcus as his groomsmen. His best man? Mimi. “Well, you are the best woman, ain’t ya?” he’d spoken upon asking her, his dear friend bursting into tears and hugging him as she’d accepted. Her actions in saving Beth’s life had truly cemented them as wonderful friends, Alfie standing there at his reception, watching her, Beth, Kinga and Magda dancing to Hava Nagila together, telling Steve and Marcus how unbelievably fortunate he felt, to have married a woman like Beth, and got to keep in his life someone he thought as highly of as he did Mimi.
They’d finally been able to set aside the events of the previous year just over three months previously, when Amira’s criminal case had resulted in her receiving a custodial sentence of fifteen years for attempted murder. It was what their legal team had anticipated she’d receive at best, of course all thought she should have received a heavier sentence for the cruel and vindictive premeditated plot to try and take Beth’s life, but within the legal parameters, and taking into consideration that Beth didn’t suffer any long-term harm or deliberation as a result, this was realistic. She wouldn’t be eligible for parole for at least ten, either.  
Amira was behind them, now, though, only a beautiful future ahead, Beth’s journalism going from strength to strength. Her work with Kinga to expose a cult had been one of the vital pieces of evidence to bring the figureheads of the organisation to justice for many offences, such as money laundering, human trafficking and slavery, Beth and Kinga having their names flushed to the forefront of gritty, British journalism, both even featuring in the documentary series that would air later that year, once the case had been brought to trial in America. Alfie had never been prouder of her.  
“It really is a stunning view up here,” she spoke, running a hand through her hair, the gorgeous, cushion cut diamond on her left-hand glittering in the morning sun. It still made him laugh, when he remembered her reaction to opening the box containing it and having him swiftly propose. Stunned didn’t cover it, Beth nearly scaring Cyril half to death after she’d screamed ‘yes!’ at about a thousand decibels.  
“Yeah, but it ain’t nothing compared to this one.” Turning her, he smiled, nodding. “Yeah, that’s the best view in the world for me. Whenever I’m looking at the missus.” She leaned in close, receiving the kiss he granted her with before he left her to it to go and answer his phone, Beth hearing him chatting to Marcus about how things were going with the resort.  
Sometimes, she still couldn’t believe that the decision to enter that high end bar in Chelsea to drown her sorrows in a bottle of wine she couldn’t really afford had put her on the path to where she’d ended up, but she wouldn’t change anything for the world. She was exactly where she needed to be. And then she made the critical mistake of looking down.
“Nope!” Back inside she speedily went, placing her empty mug down and wrapping her arms around her husband. Now she was exactly where she needed to be.
The End.
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starkwlkr · 7 months
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Hi
It's ok if the request got deleted no need to say sorry,
Can u pls make a fic about papa nolan finding out about cillian and physicist!reader's relationship,
Like would he be angry or accepting, i was wondering
And then if u r comfortable with it then a time jump to the wedding or pregnancies
I would really like to know his reactions!!
This is really just a follow up to another anon request (which u made a fic on) and had this idea
Anyway so sorry for the long request
Have an awesome day ahead!!!!
nolan!reader x cillian murphy headcanons
I’m going to make these headcanons if that’s ok 🫶🏼🫶🏼 and i think i got carried away but who cares 😌
Ok so obviously y/n and cillian met in the early 2000s (you can make up how they met)
papa nolan knows that y/n is talking to a boy but he doesn’t know it’s mr. ‘my eyes aren’t even that blue’ so when y/n tells papa nolan that her bf is coming over for dinner, he’s preparing to meet so douche bag who says his favorite movie is pulp fiction or fight club (nothing wrong with that, but the film bros make me want to gauge my eyes out)
anyways, cillian shows up and ofc they get along great <3
after cillian and y/n are now OFFICIAL official obviously the press asks about what papa nolan thinks and if they get along
y/n and cillian are just the it couple of the 2000s like they’re on the cover of every magazine with those cheesy headlines ‘she’s got the beauty AND the brains’
literally any interview cillian or papa nolan do, they ramble about y/n and how proud they are of her
and you know how it goes, first comes love then comes marriage then comes y/n with a baby carriage🤍💍🍼 butttttt our fav nepo baby and Irish man don’t do it in that order bc my girl y/n got pregnant with their first baby in 2003 and she’s named alexandria
papa nolan is so excited about the birth of baby alex and he always offers to babysit whenever even if he’s busy
baby alex and papa nolan are my favorite duo 🫶🏼
eventually cillian and papa nolan work together on batman begins and you bet that baby alex is always on set
papa nolan at first did not want to bring her because he thought alex would be scared but she loved being on set and meeting everyone
her and christian bale become besties by the end of filming 🤞🏼
baby alex got to say the last “cut!” and everyone laughed because of how cute she sounded
bonus: cillian tried to get her to put the scarecrow mask on but she thought it was yucky (her exact words)
y/n and cillian don’t have kids until like 2014 because they were busy with work obviously like cillian getting movie roles and y/n being at work 24/7 and getting a literal nobel peace prize but eventually she does get pregnant and BAM it’s twins
it’s 2014 and they’re still not married (it happens ya know just ask academy award winner michelle yeoh)
but y/n gets pregnant and she wants to wait until the twins’ birth and then get married
but anyways the murphy twins arrive and papa nolan just cries happy tears because he now has more grandchildren to love and spoil whenever he wants to (they’re named scarlett and wyatt and papa nolan gives them nicknames idk what they would be but go wild with your imagination besties 🫶🏼)
papa nolan just wants to see his daughter get married and see her happy with her new family 🫶🏼
the day of the wedding comes and baby alex is the flower girl and steals the show
it’s a private wedding BUT that doesn’t stop it from being the most famous wedding of 2014
ofc christian bale is there like who doesn’t want batman at their wedding?? tom hardy, best man um yes?! peaky blinders cast, jake gyllenhaal (swifties, don’t hate me, I love jake and he’s one of my favorite actors)
jessica chastain and anne hathaway ofc they’re invited
u know if heath ledger was still alive he would def be invited 🫶🏼
I’m picturing the kids having career day at their schools and each kid takes an adult like papa nolan goes to alex’s school, wyatt takes y/n and cillian goes with scarlett and every adult is just like “fuck, how am i supposed to go on after them?!”
papa nolan goes all out with his presentation for career day like he even called hans zimmer and christian bale to impress the kids (obviously hans zimmer would impress the teachers, not the kids but some kids recognize the music from batman movies so let’s just go with it)
twitter loves the murphy-nolan fam 🫶🏼
no bc i just imagine the edits to beautiful boy with dad!cillian and I’m bawling
ok ok flashforward to 2023 and oppenheimer is coming out and twitter gets more content on the murphy-nolan fam
y/n finally does an interview bc she worked with the cast and taught them about ✨science✨
Y/N AND CILLIAN AT THE OPPENHEIMER PREMIERE AND THEN PAPA NOLAN PHOTOBOMBING THEIR PICS
overall the murphy-nolan fam has my heart and surprise! the murphy kids watched barbie because the twins are not even old enough to watch oppenheimer and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t want to watch their dad have fake s e x with another woman (FLORENCE PUGH ILY)
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justrainandcoffee · 1 month
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The one with Alfie owning an erotic bakery shop.
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Today I thought about it and how I failed as Alfie and Rosie shipper (and creator) by not giving them an erotic bakery shop 🤣. Now they have one.
I didn't name her, you can imagine this as reader if you want.
Just a blurb.
For obvious reasons the actual moodboard is beneath the cut:
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"I think you misspelled 'Happiness'" his wife said, unable to hide her smile.
"Nah, it's perfectly written, sweetheart."
"You know that our girl can't see this, right? Because you are going to explain her that."
"Fuckin' 'ell, love. The girl won't see my art. Want to see my last creation?"
"I'm afraid, but go ahead."
She followed his husband to the back of their bakery and saw him opening a cupboard. He put a cake in front of her.
"Is that.. Is this your..? You baked a cake using you cock as reference?"
"Ya recognise it, mmh? Well, yeah. It's my fucking bakery. And I'm proud of what God gave me. I sent one to Tommy."
"You sent one to Tommy?!"
"A dick for a dick."
"Oh my god, Alfie..." Then she looked at him "Can I taste the cock?"
"The cake or the actual one?"
"Your choice."
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raincoffeeandfandoms · 3 months
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The tide (Alfie Solomons)
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It wasn't unusual that during storms, the sea would carry the remains of ships to the shore. The unusual was that this time a woman appeared there.
An hour ago, his dog started to bark like crazy. No matter how many times Alfie tried to cal him down, the animal didn't stop until he opened the door. Then, Cyril ran across the beach in middle of that huge storm. Alfie couldn't see him, but he could hear him. Clearly, the animal was trying to say something. Grabbing his old oil lamp, Alfie walked after his dog.
The cold wind was cutting his skin but he didn't stop until he reached Cyril, it was then when he saw her. A woman floating in the seashore with ropes tangled around her body, completely unconscious but alive.
It wasn't easy, but he was able to free her. Alfie carried her in his arms to the little cabin where he lived, next to the lighthouse.
Covered by his blanket, she's sleeping next to the fireplace now. Cyril is resting next to the woman while Alfie is guarding the house and also her.
There's something familiar in her face. Alfie didn't see her before and yet...
What is doing such beautiful woman in that corner of the world? And why? Alfie can't remember the last time he saw another human being. After his accident, he isolated himself from the outside world. Only he and his dog live there. The island and lighthouse are his place now.
The woman talks in her dreams. Is she having a nightmare? Probably.
Alfie put a hand on her forehead. She's feverish. But the contact of his hand against her skin makes her open her eyes.
She's looking at him and against his odds, she touches his face, caressing his scar with her thumb. Alfie can't help but close his eyes...
"I found you," she says, "I finally found you..."
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Resurrection
A The Other Shelby story
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Pairing: Alfie Solomons x fem!reader (OC hybrid)
Summary: A Jewish gangster resurrecting from the dead and his love trying to deal with the situation.
Words: 2.500
Warnings: none
A/N: Big thanks to @cillmequick for beta reading and being so supportive of me 🫶 Same goes to @queenshelby for the emotional support 🥺
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Her hands were fidgety on the steering wheel as she navigated the car through the streets of Kent. She wished she could've distracted herself from her nerves by petting Cyril next to her but the Bullmastiff was too big of a beast to properly fit into the passenger seat. He got that from his dad. Instead, he was resting in the backseat, looking out of the window from time to time whenever they drove past something mildly interesting for a dog.
When the car came to a stop half an hour later, she allowed herself a second to take a deep breath and mentally prepare. For what exactly, she didn't know.
Cyril had his snout on the ground the entire way from her car to the front door of the welcoming beach home, his tail constantly wagging, as if he knew something she didn't.
She sighed before she pressed the doorbell and moments later, the heavy door opened, revealing a tall middle aged woman wearing a housekeeper uniform. The lady stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the short redhead and the huge dog in front of her.
“Miss Shelby…”
“Hello Mary” she replied shyly.
It has only been two months, yet it felt like an eternity to her. An eternity filled with what had felt like incurable grief, and a strange kind of hope.
“Is he home yet?”
Mary kept staring at her, as if she couldn't process what that question was supposed to mean, who “he” was, before she nodded slightly and took a step aside to let the young woman and the dog enter.
“He released himself from the hospital two days ago. The doctor comes to see him twice a day now, to make sure he…” Mary paused, apparently unsure about what was left for the doctor to heal at this point, “I have to warn you, Miss Shelby, it's not a pretty sight.”
She didn't give her a response to that statement as she followed the maid upstairs to what she assumed to be the master bedroom. Of course, it wasn't pretty. Her brother had shot him in the face. It was a miracle he was still alive.
Mary gently knocked on the door before slowly opening it, even though no one inside the room had given them permission to enter.
“Mister Solomons… there's someone who would like to see you.”
Alfie was lying on his bed, eyes closed, hands folded on his stomach and if it wasn't for the slow smacking of his lips, she would've thought he was dead for real. The big wound that covered half of his face was still slightly red and swollen, a very prominent scar was about to stay right below his eye.
“Tell’em to come ‘ere another time. 'm resting.”
“Only God knows why you're not resting in hell right now.”
On the way from London to Margate, she had told herself that she would be gentle with him. He was still healing so the last thing he needed was her taking out her anger on him immediately. But the way he was lying there, in a big four-poster bed with several flasks of medicine, empty and full, next to him on the bedside table, with the aftermath of her brother's assassination attempt so obvious, she couldn't control the variety of feelings that went through every inch of her body. She was angry, oh so angry at him. At the same time, she was happy he was still here.
Her Alfie.
The sound of her voice made him open his eyes slowly, squinting against the sunlight that flooded the room. He was looking at her, not showing the slightest reaction to her standing here, in his bedroom, two months after he had tried to fuck over her whole family and her brother had shot him for it. Alfie cleared his throat before he started speaking again.
“Y’know, treacle, at the hospital… they gave me some pretty strong shit I s’ppose. You were there all the time. But Cyril is new, look a’ him. Good boy. Does mamma take good care of ya? Bet she does.”
He was interrupted by a nasty cough that had him screw up his face in pain as the skin around the deep wound seemed to stretch due to the sudden movement. It made her painfully aware how much recovering he still had to do and that was only what was visible from the outside. The damage Tommy’s bullet had done inside his skull, physically and mentally, was to be explored by her in the upcoming days.
She took a few steps closer to his bed until she was at the height of his stomach where she carefully put her hand on one of his arms.
“I'm real, Alfie. This has nothing to do with the morphine. Cyril is real too.”
As if to prove her point, the huge dog sat down on the other side of his dad's bed, lying his big head onto the mattress and getting it wet with his slobber. Alfie reached out to him, petting him softly as if to test that he wasn't touching a pipe dream of his.
“I reckon I died in my sleep and went to hell with ya, treacle. But Cyril belongs in heaven, so ‘is not right.”
The fact that he saw both of them rotting in hell while his dog had to go to heaven made her chuckle. He wasn't wrong though.
“How did ya find out your little cunt of a brother failed in putting an end to my life?”
“Alfie!”
“Sorry right, yeah. Your big cunt of a brother.”
She rolled her eyes at him but smiled nonetheless. Even with all the unresolved anger, grief, sadness and heartbreak inside of her, he still knew the way straight to her heart: by making her laugh.
“You wrote me a letter from the hospital, giving me your address here in Margate. I have to say, it was pretty rude of you to keep this place from me the whole time. We could've come here for holidays.”
“Yeah y’know, treacle, I would've told you but then everything went south and I figured, I should die here alone. If your brother had done his job right, that is.”
There was a lump building in her throat. She would've told him something too, before everything went south.
“I bought it for us, for when we retire. But now 'm officially dead so you could say my retirement is long overdue, innit?”
He had his eyes closed again as she absentmindedly stroked his forearm and thought about his words. They could've had it so much easier, hadn't he cheated Tommy with the Changrettas. She cleared her throat and left his bedside as she approached the bedroom door.
“I'd like to stay a few days, if that's okay with you. Nobody knows I'm here, you'll stay a dead man for the rest of the Shelby family for as long as you want.”
“You could put it in the papers and it still wouldn't make up for half of what I did to you, treacle.”
She didn't know how to feel about his sudden mea culpa. Something like that didn't come lightly from a man like Alfie Solomons but the nonchalance with which he had said the words made her swallow hard. He allowed himself to look at her again, the gaze of his good eye was as soft as she remembered it from happier times between the two of them.
“Tell Mary to give you a room and if there's anything you need, tell her too. She'll take care of it.”
“I'll be fine, Alfie.”
-
Mary was kind enough to prepare one of the other bedrooms in the house for her, even though she had reassured her that she was more than capable of taking care of everything herself. Unlike a certain Jewish gangster peacefully snoring next door, now that the doctor had given him another dose of medicine.
Within the next few days, she made sure to support Mary in her chores, against the harsh protests of the middle-aged housekeeper. But besides helping her in the kitchen, making breakfast, lunch and dinner, she first and foremost took over the nursing duties for Alfie. The wound needed to be cleaned regularly and treated with ointment to help the healing and prevent further infections. Apart from that, he needed help whenever he wanted to get up. His bad hip and the sciatica didn't take well to all the lying down he had to do.
On his good days, they walked a little, his arm linked with hers for support, although she knew that in the worst case, there was no way she could catch and hold this beast of a man. Sometimes they even made it to the beach, letting Cyril stroll through the sand as they watched the ships passing by. It was risky business to be outside with him because if the word got out that Alfie Solomons was still alive, the peace he had found for himself here would come to an abrupt end. Not that it was likely anyone who knew Alfie, let alone was interested in his business, would wander the beaches of Margate but at the same time, she hadn't expected the man himself to settle down here of all places. You never knew where those gangsters were causing trouble.
“Even if, and that is a big if, love… even if there was someone strolling along the beach trying to kill this old fragile man,” Alfie had said to her one day after she had voiced her concern for his safety, “I have a gun and you, luv, are the best shot in all of England, aren't ya? Nothing to worry about.”
He had shown her said gun he was carrying under his big black coat, making her roll her eyes at him. If she had thought a shot to his face had changed anything about his ways, she had been wrong. How naïve of her. But who was she to judge? Not like her ways were any less brutal.
That had been the first time she had let Alfie intertwine his fingers with hers while they still had had their arms linked, him slightly leaning onto her every time his hip had sent a stinging pain through his leg. When they had arrived back at the house, he had brought her hand to his face and gently kissed her knuckles before looking into her eyes, searching for a reaction that would've shown him that they were getting better. She had known he couldn't have said it, hadn't had the words or the courage to make himself even more vulnerable in front of her. Nonetheless, she had felt his silent “thank you” through the little gesture and she had known it hadn't been just for keeping him company on a walk to the beach. It had stood for everything he hadn't said thank you for yet and even when she had sensed all that, in that moment, she had wished he had said it out loud, so not only her mind had heard it, but her heart as well.
-
The treatment of his face had become another ritual of theirs that they'd cultivate before every meal they had together. With the nurses and then Mary taking care of it, he had been annoyed each time he had heard the noise of a washcloth being wrung out. This wasn't his first gunshot wound and if he chose to resurrect, it wouldn't be his last either. But now that his love, the love he had thought he had lost - and maybe he had - was gently petting over the scarring tissue, being babied didn't feel so bad to the former King of Camden Town.
She was sitting on the side of his bed, her hip touching his as she was leaning over, trying not to hurt him while also getting rid of the matter his skin produced regularly to heal the wound.
“I wanna ask you a favour, treacle.”
She sighed as she put down the washcloth from the bad side of his face.
“What is it, Alfie?"
“I want one of ya special kisses.”
“For fuck’s sake Alfie, I'm not gonna blow your-”
“Not like that… a kiss from you. It’s special to me.”
He looked at her, studied her face with his good eye while the other one felt like it was piercing through her, making her look away from him.
“I love ya, treacle. And I think there's a reason you came ‘ere, and stayed.”
Her hands were soaking from the wet cloth in them so she put it back into the small bowl of water on the bedside table while she was processing his words. There was a reason indeed.
“I love you too, Alfie, still do. That's the problem. After what you did to my family, I should've come here to finish what Tommy couldn't,” she had been staring at her wet hands the whole time, trying to keep her composure as her nerves felt like they were eating her up from the inside, “but I could never.”
She now turned her head towards him, taking one of his big paws between her delicate fingers to lead it underneath her blouse, onto her stomach, as she looked at his face.
“There is a reason I came here, and I stayed. The doctor says it's four months, size of a pear now.”
Alfie had never been known to be the emotional type but the way he stared at her belly, hand still resting there, with an expression on his face that she couldn't read, he scared her.
Did he not want it?
As his fingers started to move, gently stroking her slight bump, she relaxed a little.
“Four months you say, eh? So when it's coming in five… is it gonna be a Solomons or a Shelby?”
His question hurt her, the fact that he was unsure if he was allowed to be a father to the child or not, but at the same time, it made her love him even more. He knew he didn't have a right to stay in her or the baby's life, not after everything he put her through. He always made sure to keep her safe, making her part of the deal so she wouldn't be harmed. But that didn't change the emotional damage he had done to her by threatening her family.
When she let go of his hand on her stomach, she put hers on the good side of his face instead, the pad of her thumb caressing his beard.
“We have five months to figure this out,” she smiled at him before leaning down to carefully touch his lips with hers in a soft kiss.
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