#alfie solomons peaky blinders

[angel-inked]

How they feel.

WARNING: cannon typical graphic violence in Pierre's part, the killing gene/WΔZ is a part of the horror genre.

I've lost count of how many times I've rewritten Forrest for this, Pierre and Eddie weren't even involved to begin with. It's amazing how things evolve over time, isn't it? Except for Alfie, he was written in a day with minimal editing. lol sometimes, the words just flow out effortlessly, and other times, you need a crowbar to get them out 😆

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

Addicted.

Addicted. That's really the only word he could think of that could describe the feeling. "Tommy? Are you even paying attention?" Brendan scolded. Tommy turned away from the cafe's window with a glare and a scowl. In all honesty, being trapped in a booth between Brendan and a wall while their father rattled on about everything under the sun across the table was the last place he wanted to be right now. Not to forget, Brendan falling right back into his old habit of holding his older brother seniority over his head. Tommy played with his hoodie string idly, If Brendan wanted to gloat his age, then so be it. His mind went back to a few days ago, when you and him had just gotten in out of the storm that had ruined your evening walk. You were both soaked, but you were laughing. Tommy narrowed his eyes in confusion as he shrugged off his dripping Carhartt. While he wasn't quite sure what you were laughing about, he had to admit that you looked good when you laughed like that. Your laugh sounded like home, and he loved it, just like how he couldn't help but smile when the slasher movie made you squeal last night and snuggle against his side and he savored the warmth of your arms wrapped around his bare, topless abdomen.

"Tommy." Brendan sighed. There it is again. "Do you nag at your girlfriend like this?" Tommy retorted. Before Brendan could think of a comeback, he's a physics teacher, not an English teacher, for a reason. "Tommy," Paddy intervened before his sons teenage-like bickering went any further. "What were you just smiling about?" He asked. "A memory." Tommy replied after a moment of silence. "A memory of someone nether of you have the pleasure of knowing." He added in a murmur. "Maybe do us the pleasure of explaining what the hell you're talking about then." Brendan said, annoyance at his younger brother being less than present in the moment. All this remark did was help Tommy find his scowl again. Scooting as close to the window and as far from Brendan as he could, in the window, Tommy found his reflection staring back at him, his slightly paler than normal complexion and the dark circles beginning to form around his eyes, one of the later was mostly bruising from a left hook he took in his last fight, did little to remind him of his struggling sleep schedule. He sighed quietly through his nose. Eye color, the shape of his jaw and eyebrows. He was the masculine version of his mother. He was always told he looked like her. Looking past himself, Tommy watched autumn leaves fall and scatter across the ground in a lovely array of warm oranges, yellows, and reds, while others danced on the blustering wind. It all reminded him of the night he met you a few Octobers ago.

The next countless number of "What was I thinking coming back here?" Ran through his mind with a sigh. He's been back in the United States for almost twenty-four hours now, and he's wishing he caught a flight back to Tacoma, or anywhere else that wasn't Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Being stuck in his head meant that he wasn't really listening to what was going on around him, not until he felt a hand on his arm. He stopped and looked at you as you nodded toward the busy road he had been blindly marching toward. "Oh," he murmured softly, more so in place of chastising himself. "Is everything alright?" You asked. Tommy remained silent as he hung his head. "Are you a soldier?" You asked, taking notice of a tattoo showing just below his rolled up hoodie sleeve, "USMC" it read. "I am.. or, was." He replied. You directed him to a motel for the night, coming back the next morning and insisting on taking him out for breakfast. Tommy was hesitant, eyeing you silently for a moment before, ultimately, his growling stomach decided for him. Now, Tommy's glad you're as stubborn as he is.

Brendan sighed into his coffee, watching his little brother become lost in his thoughts again. "Brendan, leave your brother alone. He's not bothering you, so I don't see what you're getting out of bothering him." Paddy warned lowly. And Brendan Conlon, as much as he didn't want to, listened to his father for once. Leaving Tommy to swim in his wayward thoughts.

Addicted, yeah. Tommy thought, that has to be it. He's definitely addicted to you.

Enamored.

"Eames," Arthur started, straightening out of his slouch, "I am impressed.". "Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated, Arthur, thank you." Eames said with his usual teasing smile. Arthur huffed a sigh, leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head at the forger. The sound of a door opening caught the attention of the Inception team, and Eames lost his grin at the sight of your figure in the doorway. He narrowed his eyes and clinched his jaw as he swallowed thickly, making him look somewhat mean. Cobb opened his mouth to ask something along the lines of "who's that?" When he was effectively silenced, "Excuse me for a moment." Eames said shortly, shoving his notes into the chest of the dream thief, and moving toward the door. There's his voice edging into meanness. He led you through the warehouse to an empty room. He leaned back against a folding table and opened his arms to you. Burying your tear soaked cheeks in his chest, "Shh," he soothed, stroking your hair. "What'd he do?" Eames questioned after a moment. "Cheated." You murmured, getting out of a terrible relationship isn't nearly as easy as you wished it could be. "Again?" Eames exclaimed. You pulled away enough to look up at him and nod, but not enough to pull out of his grip. "I'll kill him." Eames stated with malice, anger appearing in his cerulean eyes. Those eyes were usually steady, like the sea lapping against the sand on a calm day, and just like the ocean, those waves would rise with each passing storm. "You have to be the friendliest evil person I've ever met." You said with a weak smile at his immediate thoughts of exacting revenge. "Do not pretend you are some meek, pathetic little thing, darling, when I can see that vicious mind working behind your eyes," he said softly with a smirk, however, this smirk wasn't cheeky, it was as close to sweet as Eames would outwardly show. "Besides, we both know that the suit doesn't fit you." He added.

"Oh, I'll get over it, I just gotta be a bit dramatic first." You explained sarcastically, wiping a few stray tears from your eyes as you took a few steps away from his personal bubble. Your own British accent seeped through stronger when it was just you and him as it always had, and as always Eames was thoroughly amused by this. Eames chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "For someone who doesn't want to lose me, he sure doesn't act like he wants to keep me." You added, shuffling your feet around as you glanced down at the floor and back up at Eames, or as he said, Arthur had called him once, a pesky weasel in a kitschy suit. "What was it he told you last time? Forgive and forget? Well, I'll have him know that I'm neither Jesus nor do I have Alzheimer's, so I wouldn't wager he'd take to kindly to me showing up on his doorstep, now would he?" Eames stated, making you giggle.

There's what he wanted to hear. His face split into a huge grin, not unlike the grin he wore when Arthur was pushed out of his chair backward. However, this grin lacked its usual flamboyance and impishness. Instead, it opted for sincerity. If it wasn't for your bastard of a partner, Eames would've swept you away to Mombasa with him years ago, when that failed inception job brought the two of you together for the first time, it had left Eames absolutely and completely enamored by you. "Do you need a place to stay love?" He asked, and you nodded. "and, if you don't mind my asking, I'd rather Ariadne learn architecture from a proper architect rather than Dom Cobb." He added with another grin, this one more mischievous then the last. A smile took over your features, "I'd love to."

Warm.

There aren't many people who could say they've watched a rocket explode. Then again, you were probably the only person who was currently being physically dragged out of bed by the alien symbiote that lived permanently under your boyfriend's skin at the annoying time of two forty-eight in the morning. "You need to come quick!" Vemon urged. With your half asleep senses slowly reeling, all the symbiote got in response was a tried grunt, as expected it did little to deter them, not that there were a lot of things that did. Tendrils carried you into the living room, Eddie held his head in his hands with his elbows on his desk, and his shoulders shook visibly. "There's something wrong with Eddie." Vemon murmured, best as they could anyway, there wasn't much about the symbiote that was quiet, next to your ear, while Eddie proceeded to choke on his own laughter.

The soft blue light of Eddie's laptop lit up his features and defined his figure in the dim living room. His desk was littered with pens, one rested upon his open notebook, hastily scrawled notes in messy handwriting abound. He was always up late working for one reason or another. A half empty water bottle was abandoned on the side with its lid off in Eddie's laughing fit. The sent of a microwave ramen bowl with a kick entered your nose, and you began to suspect what had the symbiote all worked up.

"V isn't too found of having a little spice in their life, I take it." You rasped with sleep stubbornly sticking to your vocal chords. Eddie shook his head with a grin, shoveling a fork full of the noodles into his mouth. "Why would you eat something hot enough to burn you?" Vemon asked, "You should wait until it's cool."

"It's not that kind of hot buddy." Eddie smiled. Vemon narrowed their eyes, "What other kind of hot is there?!" The symbiote exclaimed. You chuckled softly as you pulled up a seat next to Eddie, setting your glass of water down on your boyfriend's desk with a tink nose. "Here," you said, tearing open a chocolate bar and holding it up to Vemon, "This is more to your taste, isn't it?"

Vemon nodded and took the candy with a gentle tendril, breaking it in half with another, eating their half whole and handing the other back to you. Eddie watched you break off another two pieces of the chocolate, eating one yourself and tossing the other in the air for Vemon to catch in their mouth. "Again!" Vemon urged excitedly like a child. Well, a child that has way too many teeth and was made of extraterrestrial ooze. You chuckled and broke off another piece of the chocolate. Eddie's cheeks were slightly sore from grinning at you and Vemon, but the reporter physically couldn't make himself look at the two of you any other way. Most people wouldn't react very well to Vemon. The symbiote was anything but subtle and would often think with their stomach before their head, none of which seemed to have ever bothered you.

This made Eddie feel all warm and gooy inside, like all the good parts of a teenage crush. He's had the thought that he couldn't love you anymore than he does now before, but you prove him wrong every time.

Enthralled.

You were his. You just didn't know it yet. His smile hid his jealousy as he watched you mingle with the Shelbys across the room from the table where he and his men were sat, "Is everything alright, sir?" Ollie asked. Alfie nodded, "if Alfie Solomons wants something, he gets it." He said lowly, eyes remaining locked on you. Downing the rest of his half-full glass of bourbon, Alfie stood and made his way to you. Tommy had insisted that the purpose of this party was making business connections, and for that reason alone insisted that Alfie had to turn up to the festivity. The Wandering Jew was less than eager to attend, so after many tireless calculations, he decided he'd show only to make it clear to Tommy that he didn't want to be there. "Did he complain the whole way from Camden?" Tommy asked, nodding toward Alfie as he turned to Ollie. Alfie scoffed at the question, glancing around the room. Once his eyes found you, he found himself completely enthralled. Ollie watched a certain Birmingham native curl his thin pale lips into a smirk before excusing himself.

Now, Alfie watched you laugh as he made his way to you. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and a smile formed on his face as he watched your eyes sparkle in the elegant lighting. Any party thrown by the Shelbys was bound to be extravagant and have an endless supply of drink. However, there was a catch. There was always a catch. You were laughing at something Arthur said, once again stirring the jealousy in Alfie's gut. Stomping that out as much as his heart would let him, he continued his approach. "Hello Alfie," Arthur said with a grin, "didn't think you'd show.". "Well, you stand corrected!" Alfie exclaimed, throwing his hands out to the sides. Unbeknownst to him, you were admiring the way his hips swayed as he walked up to you and the Shelbys. A smile lined your lips, Tommy's plan was working just as you hoped it would. Tommy barely tried to hide his smirk, rubbing his cigarette over his lips before lightning it as he watched Alfie Solomons do what he did best, talk, and you were the main focus of his attention, Arthur shared a knowing look with Tommy. "Right, gentlemen!" Tommy exclaimed, "shall we leave Alfie to his monarch?" He said, eyeing the grins his family was wearing. Alfie eyed Tommy suspiciously, "The fuck you playin' at mate?"

"Don't worry," Tommy said, patting Alfie's shoulder as a wave of Shelbys surrounded the three of you on all sides, "I put in a good word for you." He explained, gesturing to you, and with a nod, he left to follow his brothers.

Intrigued.

Jack grimaced as the metallic thunk of brass colliding with bone filled his ears, "Yep, that's what he's talking about." Howard said with an amused grin. Forrest nodded to himself, gripping his brass knuckles tightly before slipping them back into his pocket, out of sight. "Yeah, alright now." He said softly, stepping over the unconscious man, moving toward his younger brother. "Jackrabbit," Forrest and Howard said in unison, both pausing to glance at the other. Jack remembered mom calling his big brothers' twin flames of a sort, as they always seemed to know what the other was thinking before anything was said, and because they spoke in unison like this far too often for it to be a coincidence. Forrest wouldn't admit it out loud, but they were rather compatible as a unit. As long he was at the head of the operation at least.

Howard rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle as Forrest grumbled incoherently under his breath. Jack glanced between the pair with a mix of wonderment at Forrest's handling of the situation and embarrassment at being caught at knife point and not being able to defuse the situation himself. "Forrest!" A familiar voice called. The brothers turned to see Ida Belle rushing toward them, "is everything alright?" She asked, Forrest nodded to the man on the ground, watching a grimace spread across Ida's face. "He'll wake up," he started, Ida snapped her attention back to the middle brother. "Probably with less teeth, but it should at least make'em reassess his life choices a little bit." Forrest murmured, shaking his head at the man. Jack tentatively removed himself from the wall, taking a few steps forward to gawk at the man's face. The would-be burglar's nose was likely broken, and his skin was already turning many shades of purple and black amongst the crimson liquid that coated the bottom half of it, and the imprint of brass knuckles could still be made out.

Forrest removed his hat and held it against his chest. Jack figured it was a show of courtesy for Ida Belle rather than for the man laid out on the ground. Everybody knew Howard could become volatile at a moments notice, but what seemed to take people off guard was when Forrest lost his temper. Jack felt rough hands grab his shoulders and yank him off his feet. His shoulders were the first thing to collide with the hard ground, and his back hit second. "Fuck you Howard!" The eighteen year old exclaimed. "Oh, whatever you say, little doggie." Howard grinned widely. The pair froze at the sound of the middle brother's soft gruff laugh. Howard smiled, glad to hear the happy sound. Jack fought with his features as he picked himself up, Forrest certainly made keeping a straight face look easier than it actually was. Jack lost this battle when he noticed Howard smirking at him, and his eyes narrowed into a glare.

With a soft grunt, Forrest brought a cigar up within inches of his face. Storm grey eyes inspecting the roll of tobacco from end to end before clamping his teeth down on it. Jack watched him slip his hand back into his pocket for a match as the sound of a subtle click came from behind him. There was no mistaking what this sound was, the safety on a weapon. Forrest slid his fingers into his brass knuckles for the second time tonight. When he turned around, he was met with a smile. You stowed your pistol back in the holster on your hip, "I thought I told you to stay inside!" Ida Belle exhorted. You merely huffed in her direction, much too taken by the stranger in front of you. "May I?" You asked, reaching for the cigar. Jack didn't think you looked like much of a threat. However, he knew Forrest thought otherwise, eyeing you up and down agonizingly slow until another grunt rumbled out of his chest, and he thrusted the cigar into your hand. You retrieved a square shaped metal lighter and allowed white smoke to waft out of your nose while you repocketed your lighter. Jack often wondered what preference Forrest had for carting around a box of matches to light his smokes with as opposed to an actual lighter. Matches had their other uses, like lighting oil lamps, the campfires people would huddle around after dark, and Howard's favorite, shine stills. Jack could ponder till his puzzler was sore, and the only conclusion he would ever come to was that this was simply a quirk of his silent older brother. "Good taste." You smirked, passing the cigar back to Forrest, who grunted.

Howard noted a look of bewilderment appeared in Forrest's eyes after he returned the smoke to his lips and removed it again, inspecting it. Was there something wrong with it? Howard wondered. "Hmm." Forrest hummed, leveling his steely gaze with the side of your head as he wedged the already flattened end of the cigar between his teeth and firmly bit down on it. Ida Belle introduced you to the brothers properly, adding that you were new to Franklin County. Forrest grunted lowly at this. "What on earth could've brought you to a town this small?" Jack questioned. Forrest shook his head like he thought the question to be of little relevance. "Work mostly. My mother wanted to marry me off, but I'd rather carve my own path in life." You responded casually. Forrest snapped his attention back to you, "Hmft." He grunted softly. Jack gave Howard a confused glance, the eldest only shrugged in response. "We ought to let you boys get back to work." Ida said, attempting to corral you back inside. You shot Forrest a smile over your shoulder, effectively locking him in place. He glanced toward his brothers as he heard a truck door slam. Jack was already griping the wheel, and Howard was sauntering toward the back end of the brothers shared vehicle. The eldest stopped by the driver's door, appearing to have been smacked by a thought, and spun on his heels to see Forrest hadn't moved. "Are we gonna get a move on before sunrise, Forrest?" Howard liked to tease his baby brother for being slow and lumbering. "Hmft." Forrest grunted again, at the remark. Forrest turned back in your direction, contemplating his actions for a moment. He whistled to get your attention. "Ida Belle! Wait just a minute, now!" He hollered, catching up with you. "What the hell is he doing?" Jack asked impatiently. "Well, I'll be damned to hell," Howard grinned from ear to ear with a chuckle, watching his baby brother converse with you, knowing his brother well enough to know something had his interest piqued. "looks like ol' Forrest found something that intrigues him."

Obsessed.

A friend had warned you against taking a job in your area. You knew you lived in a bad part of New York, but you didn't need someone to tell you that. you grew up there despite it all. Besides, working at the diner was decent, you made ends meet and your new job had brought new friends along with it. "The usual?" You smiled cheerfully at the group of rowdy boys who just walked in. "As always." Pierre smiled. He was always the dominant one, acting before any of the others. You'd even heard some of them call him boss a few times. "How's Alice doing, PJ?" You asked as you refilled his coffee. Pierre perked up at the nickname, his pale features practically beamed as he pretended not to hear his friends snickering. They've told him repeatedly to ask you out already. "She's good." He replied. This is what the two of you bounded over, Pierre lived with and cared for his elderly grandmother, who was struggling to get around these days. She's not getting younger, after all. You lived with and cared for your ailing father. His health and characteristic charisma had taken a hit when a back injury forced him into retirement. He buried himself in his construction job after the divorce from your mother. Had it been up to him, he would've worked himself into the ground. You were currently one of the only things keeping the old man afloat.

"When are you gonna make a move, man?" Jamal asked. Pierre rolled his eyes. A glare quickly replaced his nonchalantly as he spotted the man who had been openly flirting with you over the last week ordering a coffee from you, Pierre and his boys used to come to the diner every other Wednesday after the lunch rush, but Pierre has been showing up daily since this started. If there was one thing that Pierre didn't like, was someone else encroaching on something he had convinced himself was already his. "Might be sooner than we think." Khalid, Jamal's twin, said lowly, recognizing the dark look in Pierre's eyes. "Don't do somethin' stupid, Pierre." He growled, grabbing Pierre's hood and wrapping it around his hand just in case. Pierre was compulsive at best, and flat out obsessive at worst. The rest of the gang have had to physically restrain him more then once because of his inability to control himself. "Alright, alright! Jesus don't fucking choke me!" Pierre griped, trying to yank his hoodie out of Khalid's hold, effectively gaging himself in the process.

The diner cleared out as the sky grew dark, Pierre broke off from his friends. "I'll catch up with you guys tomorrow." He said, propping himself against the outside of the diner. "Don't do anything stupid." Khalid warned again, resulting in Pierre flipping him off. The gang walked on regardless, unwittingly leaving Pierre to lie in wait for his target. Pierre spent the next half an hour psycing himself up, gripping the glock he kept hidden under his shirt. Finally, the targeted man emerged from the diner, walking past Pierre and down the block. Pierre knew the back alleyways well, sure he'd have to jump a few fences that he knew he wasn't supposed to, but who cares? He had to get ahead of this guy. Weaving his way through the dark passages, he peaked his head around the corner and spotted the man again. He plastered himself to the wall and exhaled heavily. His heart was like thunder pounding in his chest. He would never grow tired of this feeling, Pierre thought. The man, whose name Pierre couldn't be bothered to remember, appeared in his vision, causing Pierre to act. Snatching his victim off the sidewalk and yanking him deeper into the alley.

Pierre chuckled darkly as the man scrambled to get to his feet again after being thrown onto his back, Pierre appeared somewhat scrawny, writing him off as such would often prove fetal. Never underestimate the insanity of Pierre Jackson. Pierre laughed and knocked the man back down with a well placed kick and placed his foot on his chest. "Any last words bitch?" Pierre grinned wickedly, tossing his leather jacket aside and retrieving the glock from his belt. "N..nn..no." the man stammered. "No?" Pierre taunted, "Well, too fucking bad." He added, squeezing the trigger. Bang. The deed was done, no going back now. Pierre's arm fell to his side limply. He breathed heavily as the thrill of his actions enraptured him. Soon enough, muscle memory kicked in, and Pierre began rummaging through the man's pockets. A wallet, a lighter, and a pack of cigarettes, he could make use of these. He placed the unfiltered end of one of the stolen cigarettes between his teeth, not bothering to light it. He just wanted something to chew on.

His cell tone brought him out of his daze, he stumbled from the slight dizziness of standing up too quick and almost fell, "Fuck!" He hissed in irritation. Grabbing his phone from his jacket, "Hello?" He answered. "Hey Pierre, are you very far from the diner?" You're voice came through the other end of the line. "About half a block, what'd ya need?" He asked. "We just heard a gunshot nearby," you started, making Pierre aim a glare at his lifeless victim for screwing things up again. "Could you come walk me home?" You asked, completely unaware of the part Pierre played in the ruckus. "Yeah, sure I can, just give me about five minutes." Pierre responded. "Okay." You said, hanging up. Glancing down at himself, Pierre noticed the blood splattered over the front of his hoodie, he thudded his head back against the wall with a sigh, lolling it to the side in order to stare down his jacket that he threw on the ground in a haphazard manner. He grabbed it and zipped it up hastily to hide the evidence, pulling himself together and checking the cost was clear before darting out of the alley. A toothy grin appeared on his face as he headed back to the diner. He achieved his goal of eliminating the competition, and was giddy at not getting caught.

#how they feel #tommy conlon warrior #ian eames inception #eddie brock/venom symbiote #alfie solomons peaky blinders #forrest bondurant lawless #pierre jackson wΔz #tom hardy #violence tw #gun tw #tw blood #Pierre!reader is completely clueless #hope you enjoy #consider this my wip Wednesday post even though its not a wip lol #this basically took two months lol

[sopxhiea]

Taboo

Alfie Solomons X Reader

TW(?): Mentions of Cheating

Summary: What if you meet the love of your love but you’re already married to someone else?

“Feel free to kill me for saying this...”

The rain quietly hits the grey pavement of the grim street, the lights are open even though it’s quite early in the afternoon. A faint scream comes from the corner, a kid running through the splashing rain with a jacket on his shoulders. The shops are all open, the businesses booming around town while the changing autumn weather gets the best of the unprepared.

You stand in the bakery shop.

A sigh leaves your lips, umbrella left somewhere at home while you shiver lightly in the bread smell covered little box you’re standing in. Your dress is light for the weather as it rests against your collarbones, the pinkish color matching the blush on your cheeks. You smile at the workers after thanking them for letting you stay in until the weather is a little bit better.

You don’t want to go home.

It hadn’t been your idea, the whole marriage deal. It wasn’t like you hated your husband. William was sweet to you, gentle even but there was no passion in the relationship. You knew marriage was an economical proposition, William was the best option you had at the time and he had been intriguing enough for you to say yes.

You sometimes wish you hadn’t.

Another light shiver runs up your spine but before you can rub your hands together again, the bell on the door rings, indicating someone else came in the shop. The chatter filled air is silent when the door closes, the life out of the shop sucked out once the new guest arrives.

It’s him.

His hat is covered in rain and so are his shoulders, you can’t completely see his face since his hat creates a shadow under the well-lit room. Your eyes travel along his golden beard, following the ring covered hand of his and his crown tattoo catches your eye but all along, you just stand in the same place.

His eyes travel across the small shop, giving a nod of recognition to the familiar workers as they get his regular order ready. It’s early for him to be showing up in the afternoon hours but no one in the shop is daring enough to question the gangster. While he looks around the small wooden place, his eyes land on the little pretty lady standing next to the window.

You seem to be lightly shivering, he gathers its because of your light dress. His eyes roam around our body, a little too inappropriately for a while and he stops when he sees you looking right at him. You give him a small smile, it’s your form of greeting and he’s too stunned to smile back so he nods at you.

He knows you as the little lady around the corner. You’re young, at least half his age. He knows you’re married to that wealthy William bloke, the one who doesn’t talk much and he wonders if he talks to you or if he is as boring as Alfie makes him out to be. His eyes travel across your back and he admires your wavy hair under the light. You look picturesque as he takes a better look at you.

“Afternoon, Mr. Solomons.” speaks one of the employees, hand holding two bags of bread and bakeries for him. You can sense the tension in the air but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest, you have a lot of it at your own home.

The first couple of years were good, you think. William was attentive and calm like he usually was but the more time passed, the quieter he became. He didn’t talk much in the first place but you’d always been the conversation maker anyway. With the passing years, the house grew dull and so did your relationship to your husband.

At least he was wealthy, you thought.

Feeling the stranger’s eyes on you, you looked right back at him. There was an air around him, the kind of aura that perked your interest. You always had the tendency to get yourself in trouble, it was why your mom wanted you to marry William. Because he was good and well-behaved and you were fire, you were pure trouble and he balanced you out.

“It ‘s, yeah.” Alfie speaks to the employee, getting the bags from his hand while keeping his eyes mostly on you. 

You feel the rain get lighter by the passing second, if only you had an umbrella. It’s possible for you to go home on foot from the bakery but if you do so, you know the pastries will get wet and you don’t want to hear your husband complain. 

You don’t realize this is Alfie’s shop, not until you figure who he is.

You’ve heard things, everyone has. You know the scary old gangster that resides on the same part of London as you. Most people are scared of the man, only knowing him as the murderer and the powerful man they made him out to be but you know better than to stare at him for too long.

He sees the glisten in your eyes and hesitates to walk out of the shop. He knows you’re a regular but he’s never had the pleasure of seeing you up close before. You’re proper lovely, he thinks and the more he looks at you, the more he realizes that you’re not the type to shy away by any means.

“Lass..” he speaks, taking a step closer to you and the employees are all gone to the back by the time you look up to meet his blue eyes.

“Yes?” you speak, your voice is so breathy that it makes his eyes flutter. He smiles a little, not able to hide the hints of amusement on his face as he takes a good look at your features.

You’re young, you already look younger than you are and he sees the lack of experience written in your delicate features. His eyes travel to your lips as you lick them, your soft eyes illuminated by the bakery shop as you stare up at him with curious eyes.

“Ya’ need help?” he speaks and you shoot him a daring look, allowing him to speak further and he feels himself get carried away.  “The bags, yeah, I got a fuckin’ umbrella right ‘ere.” his voice fades by the end of his sentence but your eyes don’t budge. He knows you’re not scared of the big scary gangster.

“I...uh.” you speak, eyes traveling to his hand where he’s holding the said umbrella. You give him a faint smile then, you don’t want to go home but the offer is far too intriguing.

He seems dangerous, you’re drawn to him.

“That’d be wonderful, thank you.” you say and the movement that follows your words is almost automatic as you smile up at him. 

He opens the door for you after getting the umbrella ready, the thing is more than enough for the both of you and since you happen to be half the man’s size, you easily manoeuvre your way next to him under the grimy weather. You stand next to him for a couple minutes as he looks down at you, your curious eyes ogling the man who’s currently holding up an umbrella for you.

He smiles down at you, in an adoring way almost and starts walking under the umbrella with you on his side. As the smell of rum and vanilla consumes you, you come to realise that the bloke walking next to you is a lot more taller than you’d anticipated. You need to crane your neck to look up at him but you shrug the thought away and keep walking.

You soon realise that the gentlemen has been staring the whole time, his glances grow longer and longer each time he takes a look at you. You gulp, realising that you’ve probably made a poor decision by accepting the stranger’s offer since he happens to be a gangster but you look past it.

“Yer’ shiverin’, pet.” he speaks, looking down at you once again and you ignore the little flip of your stomach when he does.

“Oh.” you speak, not knowing why he felt the need to point the fact out. “It is raining outside, I’d say that’s fairly normal.” you speak, biting back a response and he looks at you with a low chuckle, you don’t look feisty to him but your words say otherwise.

“Fuckin’ hell.” he mutters under his breath and you smile at his reaction, he doesn’t know what he’s in for.

You don’t feel the need to apologize for biting back a response like you just have, although most proper ladies would. You’re far too tired and spent for that, just no matter how much younger you are. His eyebrows shoot up when you remain silent, he’s waiting for some kind of ‘sorry’ for the fact that you’ve just talked back to a gangster.

“Proper lady like yourself, yeah, shouldn’t be speakin’ that way.” he says, his suggestion is lighthearted but it makes you look up at him as you walk next to the built man. His hand is tugging at his beard as his orbs stare at you.

“What makes you think I’m a proper lady?” you speak, the whole sentence filled with giggles as you make out the words. You’re far from proper.

Oh, if only he knew.

He’s heard of you. It wasn’t like everyone knew of how wild you were before you had gotten married but as the man who ran the town you were currently residing in, it was hard not to. He’s heard of the young girl with the wicked smile, the one many lusted after but she was soon married off to a wealthy guy to make sure she didn’t get pregnant or run off.

“Ya’ definitely look like one, lass.” he speaks under his breath when you stop at your doorstep.

The apartment you live in is the posh area, thanks to the money your husband so earnestly earns. His whole family is known for their money which was why your mother had jumped to the idea of marrying one of his kin, so that you’d leave a comfortable life with a quiet husband.

But she hadn’t realised that there was no love between the two of you.

There was understanding and a lot of quiet but no love. The sex was adequate but William was selfish when it came to it, it wasn’t like what you wanted sex to be for the rest of your life and much like with everything else, his family had blamed you for not being able to get pregnant years on end. You were to blame for all things, no matter what it was.

“Well, this proper looking lady thanks you for walking her home.” you spoke, a smile on your lips after you climbed onto the doorstep. Your height was even now, the steps had done that and you could see his features a little clearer.

Wasn’t he supposed be an old guy?

His golden beard covered a good portion of his handsome features but you could see that he was a sharp looking gentlemen. His blue orbs were gentle as they gazed into your eyes, his plump lips curtained by his beard as they glistened under his umbrella. You ignored the way his smell surrounded you, the maid would be opening the door soon and you’d have to go in.

“Very much welcome, yeah, my fuckin’ pleasure.” he smiled at you, his gaze getting stuck on your lips every now and then and he was not subtle about it which made you smile back at him.

You heard the footsteps of the maid from the other side of the room, the rain long gone now but the umbrella is still in its place in his calloused hands. You gulp and he senses the hesitation, his gaze dropping on your wedding ring every now and then.

“See you around, Mr. Solomons.” And you disappear behind the front door.

-----

A month.

A month passes by where the handsome scary gangster comes by the bakery a little too often. The workers know the reason is you but you remain oblivious. There are more pastries in your house each day, he sends them as his regards on the days you don’t stop by. You don’t tell your husband but he’s away on business on most days as you writhe in the big house.

You’re situated on the floor in nothing but your nightgown. There’s a book on your lap and a drink in your hand, you try not to drink in the afternoons but wine is too intriguing. You sip on the cold drink while laying on the cold wooden surface, feet moving along to the little rhythm that plays in the room from the corner.

You don’t think about the way his eyes roam all over your body and how he licks his lips every time you smile at him. Your mind is not on how his rings feel on your skin as he guides your hands through the shelves in the bakery. He knows which bread is good and he’s gotten to know your taste, your breath hitches every time he stands too close to watch as you decide on which loaf to get for the day.

You don’t hear the knock.

The maid is quick on her feet to greet the guest. She understands the struggles of being married to someone you don’t love, she’s almost a friend to you while you ask her to teach you things like knitting and cooking each week. There’s an understanding between the two of you, something that comes from being females in this cold world. You think of her as a gift from your husband, since the bloke is always away.

“Miss.” the maid speaks, her voice is quiet and you don’t look up from your book as you lay on the floor, just a nod of acknowledgment that tells her to keep speaking. “You have a guest.”

But you don’t know anyone.

Your eyes look up at her first but your eyes soon travel to the tall man next to her. You know the hat. Your body is fast to get up, feeling some need to cover up with something since the nightgown you’re wearing is merely a thin dress. You gulp, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as you nod at the maid, she’s quick to leave.

“Mr. Solomons.” you speak, voice cautious as you stare up at him. He’s wearing his usual attire and you can smell the bakes goods he’s brought. But you’re oblivious as to why he’s in your house.

“Miss Y/N.” he speaks, he knows you’re married.

“It’s Mrs, actually.” you say, before you can register. There are lines you cannot cross, you’re aware but you don’t realise just how eager you feel to cross them.

“Right.” he says, eyes dropping to your wedding ring once again.

Your hand shows him the seat, ushering him to take a seat but his eyes are glued on your small form. He can see your body clearly under the afternoon light that creeps from the open blinds. He takes the seat and hears the sound of the pot, the maid is making tea and he wonders if you do this a lot, invite unmarried dangerous man to your house and seduce them with just a look.

But you haven’t even done anything.

“What brings you here?” you speak as you lift the book and the drink and put both of them on the drawer next to the shelves. He soon realises the whole room is decorated with books, paintings and music records, so this is what you do when your husband is away.

“Curiosity.” he speaks, eyes scanning yours for any kind of sign but all you have in your orbs is a sign.

You’re warning him.

You’re married, you so badly wish you weren’t in this moment but you are. There’s a wedding band on your ring and you’re bound to another man. He’s boring, wealthy but he’s too quiet for you. No matter just how fucked up it all is, you don’t feel the courage to betray William. He’s been fairly good to you, leaving you on your own with a maid who’s been a good friend to you. He provides for you and he’s bought you everything you want.

“I see.” you speak, not sure of yourself because you don’t trust yourself around this man. He’s far too intriguing.

You give him a smile then, it’s the same kind of smile of a girl who’s bound to break Alfie’s heart. He knows it and you know it, too. The maid quietly comes in then, tea and pastries the beloved gangster has brought on a tray and she sets the table up for the two of you and leaves, just like that.

“Mr. Solomons, I-” you start once the maid is out, he’s relentless, you think as he cuts you off.

“Cut that out, pet, yeah, we both know there’s no fuckin’ use to it.”  he speaks and you smile again, his words cut through the silence a little harsher than he meant for them to do.

“Alright then.” you speak and get up to settle on the table. He follows your movements and soon, you’re both sitting on the table with tea cups on our hand. “Alfie.” your voice is breathy as you whisper his name, he can’t help but imagine how your voice would sound like in the middle of a good fuck.

“Feel free to kill me for saying this, pet...” he speaks, voice altering but it’s easy to sense his confidence. You watch him under a heavy gaze while he takes a sip from his cup and speaks. “..but you’re awfully distracting for a man like me.”

He speaks the truth as he looks at you. He’s been feeling rather frenzy, thoughts occupied mostly by work and then there was the thought of you creeping in between the lines. How you’d look after a good fuck, seeming as you don’t get any with your husband being away and all. He found himself thinking about you as he stared at the fire place, the little lady around the corner who seemed too feisty for her own good, fucking gorgeous too if he was to add.

“A man like you?” you speak, eyes traveling across the table to meet his blue ones. You see him smile and shake your head, he’s already a goner.

“Fuckin’....criminal, yeah. Have you not heard what I fuckin’ do, pet?” he asks, eyes searching yours but the only thing he finds it is amusement.

“Aren’t you the scary big gangster around the corner?” you ask, a wide smile on your lips after you take a sip from the hot cup of tea.

So you do know, he thinks. 

And you know. You know he kills for a living and that the bakery is just a cover up, word travels fast around here. You know he’s crushed a man’s windpipe with the hold of his head, that he’s nothing but trouble. You know all about the money he collects, the way people tremble when they hear he’s around. You know all about him.

“I am, yeah. And seein’ as I am just that, your pretty little self shouldn’t be concerned with me, right.” he speaks and you see the lines of hesitation flicker on his face. It’s his time to warn you but you’ve already crossed a line and you intend to push him since he’s made the effort to come to you.

“Concerned?” you ask, taken aback a little and you watch him watch you while you take a sip. 

He’s playing with the devil herself and he doesn’t even know it.

“I’m not concerned at all. Just interested.” you speak into the silence and he swears he hears his heart pounding on his chest. You were the woman they’d warned him about after all.

He chuckles at your words, eyes widening for a second as he leans back. His hand tugs at his beard, observing you for a second before his deep voice fills the house your husband bought for you. “Interested, yeah?”

“Hmm.” you hum, nodding as you confirm his words. You’re wilder than he thinks, he says to himself but he’s definitely not the one to shy away so he stares right ahead at you. “Very much so.”

“You, yeah..” his finger points at you then which brings a soft smile to your lips, you look like an angel yet you speak of devilish things. “..seem like nothin’ but trouble.” he speaks, eyes not off you for a second as you find him even more intriguing.

“Isn’t it your job to deal with said trouble?” you blink at him, literally batting eyelashes as he looks at you.

He doesn’t even like your husband, he thinks. Why is he hesitating so much?

He chuckles once again, he’s impressed to say the least. He knows the maid is in the house somewhere, surely listening but you don’t seem to give a damn. He sees the need for danger, for thrill and excitement in this little boring life you’re stuck with and if he’s honest with himself, he’ll willingly be the source of all thrill for you but something stops him from doing that.

The uncertainty of what you’re asking for.

Just when he’s getting deep into thought, you break the chain of sentences that reside on his mind by clearing your throat softly and speaking. You don’t beat around the bush.

“Look, Alfie..” your voice is stern this time. “..I don’t do this, ever. I need you to know that I’ve been loyal to my husband since the beginning, despite the things I’m sure you’ve heard..” you speak, and you are right. He’d heard an awful lot about you, mostly bad but he’d ignored it. He had the same treatment himself. “I don’t have time to beat around the bush. I need relief.....in all senses of the word.”

He watches you under a stern stare, he sees the glint of truth and bluntness mixed in with your words. “If you are willing to provide me with said relief, you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you please but if not, you can go back through the same door you came from.”

You smile at the end of your sentence, he can’t tell of he’s about to sell his soul to the devil herself or if you are just looking for a way out. His eyes scan your half dressed form, if he’s honest with himself, you’ve been the only thing in his mind for the last month but he’s too proud to show it. He’s attracted to you, drawn to your small form like moth to a flame and he truly doesn’t care that you’re married.

Sometimes, he thinks, people marry the wrong partners.

And you’re the perfect example of that. He knows your bloke is out on some country, you’re more than sure he’s already cheated a couple times but it doesn’t bother you. You don’t love William, you like his company but that’s also not something you prefer. You need the attention you crave from Alfie and he seems like the perfect gentlemen.

“Alright, lass.” he speaks, playing with his rings still as he looks at your small form once again. William doesn’t know he’s missing out on a goddess, he thinks. You flash him a small smile when he gets up to either leave or accept the generous offer.

He gets sex, he gets you and he gets to do it all in someone else’s mess. He knows certain things will develop with time but he’s too riled up at the moment to think about them, his judgement gets cloudier each time he thinks of what it would be like to have you all to himself, a piece of heaven. 

His voice fills the oak walls and you wickedly smile after his words. After he’s done speaking, he’ll follow you to the bathroom and the walls will be filled with something other than the faint jazz music from the record player for once.

“Lead the way.”

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive​  @parkbearum​ @sourirez​  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog​ @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @babaohhhriley​ @fairypitou​  @tommydoesntpayforsuits​  @paintballkid711​ @misselsbells06

a/n: Ok soooooo i was gone for like....idk how long but uni kicked my ass and i had to take some time off but anyway i hope all you angels are doing good!!<33 Idk if this means i’m back YET bc i have to move soon so there’s thatBUT i hope you enjoy this and let me know what you thought of it <3 xoxo

also i don’t support cheating or anything of the kind THIS IS IMAGINARY <3

#alfie #alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons series #peaky blinders #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons scenario #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x shelby!reader #alfie solomons peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders alfie #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders scenario #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders fiction #alfie solomons angst #peaky blinders fluff #eames tom hardy #tom hardy alfie solomons #tom hardy series #tom hardy scenario #alfie solomons ssmut

[christinasyellowflowers]

Late night talks | Alfie Solomons

Alfie Solomons x reader

Prompt: #7 Late night talks

Requested by: @Anon

Warnings: none

Note: English is not my native language so beware there may be grammar or spelling mistakes.

This turned out shorter than the previous ones. I also didn't know how to end it so... Sorry ❤️

Do not repost please!

Feedback is appreciated!

The full moon was the only source of lighting into the bedroom, were you and Alfie were snuggled under the blankets.

You were drawing circles in his bare, hairy chest with your fingers, while he talked about his day at his deranged day at the bakery.

He loved staying up late, sacrificing precious hours of sleep to talk to you, feel you. It was the only time he could have you for himself without interruptions, because nobody was allowed to interrupt his peaceful moments at home, even if the distillery was on fire.

"Alfie, why did you married me?" you popped your head up suddenly.

Alfie had the taunting remark at the tip of his tongue, but the look on your face stopped him.

"Because I love you." he reassured you, kissing your nose. " Because you are the light of hope in my life."

He kissed your lips this time, slowly and tenderly. Alfie knew that you often felt lonely and that's when the doubtful thoughts would strike, making you overthink about things when there was really no reason to.

Alfie loved you.

#chrissyscelebrationblurb #christinasyellowflowerswork #my*fanfic #peaky blinders #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons #alfie solomons peaky blinders

[solomons-finest-rum]

The job was simple enough; a get in, get the painting, get the fuck out type of situation. Preferably without alerting the Shelbys. You had a sneaky feeling they still held a grudge after the races. What you didn't expect, though, was running into your other gangster ex by the champagne tower.

or

🖼 Steal a painting~"Tell the Lee girls I've counted!" Create or request a moodboard for your fave character at a soirée.

for my dear friend's 1k followers celebration @zablife 💗💗💗 What I imagined was you and Alfie during an art heist trying to out-heist each other, because what else is more Alfie than trying to con a con artist 💗

#zablife1k #alfie solomons peaky blinders #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons #alfie solomons moodboard

[darklydeliciousdesires]

BESTIES!

Have I finally got my idea for my Alfie story? I HAVE.

Will it be modern day AU, multi-millionaire businessman Alfie? IT WILL.

Shall I be giving you these vibes for his look? I SHALL.

I feel some mood boards coming on! I begin writing soon, title and teasers to follow. I’m VERY excited to share this with you all!

#alfie solomons fanfiction #Alfie Solomons fanfic #Alfie Solomons smut #Alfie Solomons fic #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fic #tom hardy smut #Alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x oc #tom hardy x ofc #tom hardy x oc #alfie solomons peaky blinders #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fic

[ninja-potato-shelby-solomons]

#tom hardy #alfie solomons #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy x alfie #tofie #sholomons #tommy/alfie #tommyalfie #tommy shelby x alfie solomons #alfie solomons x tommy shelby #venom x eddie #veddie #symbrock fanfiction #symbrock #eddie x venom

[daemonsdarksister]

NO FOOOKING FIGHTING

Tommy Shelby - Peaky Blinders

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peakyedit #cmurphyedit #love #tommy x may #otp #may carleton #charlotte riley #tom hardy #alfie solomons #arthur shelby #helen mccrory #thomasshelbyedit #tommy x grace #annabelle wallis

[mushroomseb]

Cillian Murphy and Tom Hardy as TOMMY SHELBY and ALFIE SOLOMONS ⌙ Peaky Blinders (2013-2022) | 2.06

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #alfie solomons #alfie x tommy #peaky blinders #pbedit #peakyedit #cmurphyedit #tvgifs #tvedit #tvandfilm #cinemapix #cinematv #mediagifs #dailyflicks #userbbelcher #userbecca #userallisyn #my gifs

[dandelionfool]

something about how tommy is able to defuse alfie's aggression on various occasions when he gets all wound up and angry (russian vault scene my beloved). whereas i would think if the roles are reversed, the absolute best alfie could offer is a combination of uncertainty and arousal.

#i am obsessed with all the gentle little touches they share #but also with how much of a mess they both are obviously lol #tommy x alfie #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #my art

[oscarwildebutwilder]

Did I?

#besties #it's a comedy actually #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #alfie solomons #tom hardy #peaky blinders #pbedit #peakyedit #cmurphyedit #tvgifs #tvedit #tvandfilm #cinematv #barbieaemondgifs

[angel-inked]

When they keep secrets

We all have secrets, don't we? Some are just bigger than others

A/N: happy new year 💖

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

What he wanted.

"You ready?" You asked, smiling at Tommy. "Yeah." Tommy replied, quiet and stoic as ever. You kissed his cheek before getting out of the car, taking a deep breath as you stared up at your childhood home. The idea of Tommy meeting your parents didn't make you nearly as nervous as the idea of your parents meeting Tommy, and if Tommy is nervous, he's certainly not letting it show on the surface, not that his flat affect allowed much to seep though anyway. You ran your hand along the railing as you climbed the front steps that seemed significantly smaller and less steep than they did when you were younger, the light sent of your mother's cooking wafting out of the partially open window. The memories of childhood came flooding back to you, your dad chasing you up and down the hallway, mom making your favorite meals, getting a hug and kiss from both of them as they wished you well before you got on the school bus. What more could a kid ask for really. You swallowed your nerves and knocked on the door. It flung open before your arm even had time to retract to your side, "how have you been, honey?" You're dad asked, swiftly pulling you into a hug. You giggled into his shoulder. It was always unclear who was more excited for you to return home, you or your parents.

"Come on in," your dad ushered the two of you inside, "Tommy, right?" He added, Tommy turned to him with narrowed eyes of slight confusion. He nodded. "Phil." Your dad smiled, introducing himself with an outstretched hand. Tommy shook it hesitantly. He wasn't used to being greeted so cheerfully. You grinned as your dad hurried off, to the kitchen to tell your mother of your arrival, no doubt. Shaking your head as you moved that direction yourself, smiling at the sounds of Tommy's heavy combat booted steps following along behind you. Tommy would trail you like a loyal dog whenever he was unsure what to do with himself. Your nose followed the sent of a delicious lunch in the making into the kitchen, where you saw your mother hovering around a skillet on the stove burner. "Hi mom." You smiled with a wave. "Oh, come here dear, I need a hug!" She exclaimed, making you giggle like you did at your dad earlier as she pecked your cheek lovingly. "Who's this nice young man you've brought with you?" Your mother grinned, flicking her eyes toward Tommy with a grin. "This is Tommy." You smiled, gesturing to him. Your mother's face lit up, "I'm Cassandra, we've heard several wonderful things about you dear." Your mom introduced herself. You could tell Tommy was a bit blindsided by her characteristic vigor. He remained silent for a moment before finally settling on, "Likewise." After a moment. "Why don't you kids have a seat in the living room, and I'll call you when lunch is ready." Your mom smiled, waving you off as she went back to the stovetop. You nodded and took Tommy's hand in your own, leading him to the end of the hallway. "You okay?" You asked quietly, walking slowly to keep your boyfriend's lumbering pace. "Yeah," Tommy started, "people are just usually more excited to watch me beat the shit out of somebody than they are to meet me." He added. "Oh, really? Because they've been biting at the bit to meet you. Every phone call lately as somehow involved being asked when they were going to meet you." You grinned. You watched Tommy's eyes shift between your face and the space over your shoulder. Turning around, you saw a picture of your mother with a baby on her lap hung on the wall, both wearing matching smiles to boot. "Well," Tommy said, grabbing your attention. "I can certainly see where that grin comes from." He said, looking between you and the picture, making you smile and nod.

Tommy remained in the doorway of the living room for a moment as you flopped on the couch. He began inspecting the mantel, a wooden box with a glass top that stood up on its side held medals and ribbons, including a pyramid of power and a purple heart. He moved to the side to eye down a picture of a man in a formal dress uniform, recognizing this man as Phil, your father. The inside of his head felt hazy, like when somber clouds became intent on blocking out the sun. The world feels grey, and those who can disappear inside out of the gloomy weather. Some find a dreary rainy day depressing. Others, like Tommy, feel rather at home in the gloom of a downpour. "Tommy." A voice cut through the haze of thoughts. A hand clapped down on his shoulder, "you were in corps?" Tommy asked quietly, turning to face Phil, who nodded. "I swear, this shit follows me everywhere." Tommy mumbled. "You active?" Phil asked. Tommy shook his head, "Not anymore." He murmured, "I have one of these," he started with a gesture to the display box of medals. "The purple heart." He added. Phil smiled, straightening his back and lifting his right hand in salute, Tommy returned the gesture. "I commend you, Tommy." Phil smiled. "I should be telling you that." Tommy said quietly. "I should be asking why this is the first time I'm hearing about any of this." You said from your spot on the couch as you crossed your legs. "Because I don't like to talk about it." Tommy grumbled, hanging his head. Your expression softened, standing and moving toward Tommy. You gently wrapped your hands around his wrists to guide his arms around your midsection, engulfing him in the comfort of a warm hug. Your dad padded him on the back, unintentionally making him pull away from you. Tommy eyed him oddly, you thought, like a half-hearted side-eye. "Lunch is ready!" Your mom called before you could really question this look.

Settling in at the table, you almost felt like a kid again. "How was your day, sweetie?" Your mom asked. You smiled, grabbing a piece of the fried chicken off your plate as you began telling them about your week. Tommy ate in silence, giving himself hell mentally after flinching at your sudden outburst of laughter at one of your dad's jokes. "Is something amiss, Tommy?" Your mom asked. You turned to see alarms going off behind Tommy's eyes. "No, everything's good, I appreciate this." Tommy said quietly, gesturing to the table, trying to redirect the attention away from himself. "You're very welcome, deary." Your mom smiled. Tommy nodded and continued to eat quietly. Watching you joyfully converse with your parents, he wasn't sure he'd ever admit it to you, but this is what he wanted growing up.

First date dilemma.

Eddie has always found getting ready rather stressful after being in front of a camera for the better part of his career. He had always felt the inescapable feeling of having to impress or prove himself to people, but preparing for a date was even worse. "Mmm," a deep rumble reverberated through his skull, making Eddie freeze in place, awaiting further harassment from his inner critic, but it didn't come. "Your heart rate has risen." The dark voice said lowly. "Yeah, no shit." Eddie muttered as he examined himself in the mirror. He sighed heavily and shrugged off the grey plaid long sleeve, "Nope!" He said, shaking his head. Vemon sighed, Eddie narrowed his eyes at the sound as he put the shirt back in his closet, feeling a pair of tendrils extending out of the midsection of his back. The feeling of the symbiote oozing through his skin was like warm water through a strainer. It was odd at first, but now it's hard to go without the warmth of Vemon coursing through his vains or the feeling of security that came from the symbiote forming around his body. Eddie turned away from his closet to see a navy long sleeve button-down and his leather jacket being presented to him, "Put this on." Vemon said. "Are you sure?" Eddie asked, taking the shirt in his hands. "Yes," Vemon exclaimed, "otherwise, we are going to be late." the symbiote added. "Being late is kinda my specialty, ya know?" Eddie deadpaned as he buttoned his shirt. "Idiot!" Vemon exclaimed, "being late on a first date is not a good look." They snapped. Eddie sighed as he picked up his keys and motorcycle helmet, "You watch too many Hallmark movies." He grumbled, locking the door behind him.

He arrived at the restaurant with exactly a minute and a half to spare, thanks to Vemon doing most of the driving. "Now, I need you to be quiet, alright?" Eddie murmured under his breath, glancing around nervously. "Of course, Eddie!" His alien earpiece exclaimed, "You are perfectly capable of messing this up without my input." They added mockingly. "Well, thanks for having faith in me, jackass." Eddie muttered, rolling his eyes. His feet were suddenly glued to the ground once he spotted you sitting on a bench by the door, waiting. You smiled widely when you saw him, "Hi Eddie." You beamed. Eddie remained in stunned silence, eyes traveling up and down your form. "Say something!" Vemon hissed, Eddie could feel them face palming. "You.. look amazing." Eddie managed, with Vemon threatening to force whatever they wanted out of his vocal chords if he didn't. "You're pretty dapper yourself." You smiled, making small adjustments to his windblown shirt collar. You turned and started toward the door, Eddie stood dumbfounded for a moment before he let out a small, breathy, "Oh." At the unseen force going to work once again, making his legs move with an irritated sigh. The restaurant wasn't busy, so you were seated quickly. Eddie's face split into a grin as he watched you smile at a baby that cooed up at you from his mother's arms, "Oh, aren't you just precious!" You awed, giggling as the mom jokingly asked her son if he was being flirty. You went and sat at the table the host led you to, "What an adorable little human spawn." Eddie hoped Vemon's words were not meant to be as sinister as they sounded. "Um, would you excuse me for a moment." Eddie said to you in a nervous haste. You nodded, and Eddie found his way to the restrooms. Once the door shut behind him, he leaned on the sink with a heavy sigh. The sound of almost liquid matter moving made him look up at the mirror, seeing the floating head of his extraterrestrial buddy hovering over his shoulder wasn't nearly as terrifying as it used to be. Eddie shook his head lightly, running his hands over his face. "What?!" Vemon exclaimed, Eddie narrowed his eyes at the symbiote with an audible huff. "You're on a date, and I'm sightseeing!" His alien counterpart insisted. "And I asked you to do it quietly!" Eddie hissed. Vemon tilted their head to one side, a soft hum vibrated through their being. Their pearly eyes and face, despite mostly being made up of an ungodly amount of teeth, held no malice. Eddie let out a defeated sigh, "I just don't wanna mess things up again, like I did with Anne." He admitted, so to speak, wasn't like he could exactly hide anything from the extraterrestrial anyway. Vemon sighed as they bowed their head, "Don't worry, Eddie, we can get through this." They grinned. "And if we don't?" Eddie questioned. "We can say we tried." The symbiote responded. "Well, let's aim to not screw up, then shall we?" The reporter agreed, Vemon nodded and disappeared beneath the surface of his skin to allow Eddie to finish his business in a sort of simi-privacy.

Eddie found Vemon's lack of commentary after their conversation in the loo disconcerting. It was unlike them and made their host anxious. As Eddie sat down at the booth, the anxious feeling seemed to disappear and was replaced by a wave of calm, and from where Vemon and he were connected, a vague sense and means of assistance. "So, how was it?" You asked, placing an elbow on the table and resting the side of your head on a closed fist. Eddie's brows attempted to touch as his features conveyed confusion, "You're meeting." Vemon murmured. "Ah, my meeting! Uh, good, it was good." Eddie exclaimed. "Well, that's... good." You smiled, making Eddie snicker. "Say, did you ever get that promotion?" Eddie asked, making you nod with a face splitting grin. "That's amazing!" Eddie congratulated you. You remained in touch with Eddie after working together, and you couldn't be more glad you did. He was funny, and miles more supportive of your career choices than your last romantic partner, even his quirk of talking to himself was endearing. Your food arrived shortly after ordering, "You put that in the article?!" You gasped. "Why not? It was the truth." Eddie responded with a smile. You shook your head with a laugh, "The ever controversial Eddie Brock." You smirked playfully. Eddie once again found himself stopped dead in his tracks by you, hearing his name on your lips provoked evocative things in the reporter. "We like this one." Vemon purred. "Yes, we do." Eddie whispered lowly into his drink under the guise of clearing his throat.

Crafty Bastard.

"Alright, fine! Just don't work too hard, love." Alfie groaned as you helped him settle into his armchair. A sciatica flair left him doubling over as he tried getting out of bed this morning. "I should be telling you that." You smirked, bending down to kiss the lips of your stubborn husband. After an hour's worth of arguing, he finally reluctantly agreed to let you fill his place for the day and that he would satisfy your insisting that he needed rest. "But now, don't go letting anyone think they can just go slack off just because I'm not fucking there!" He ordered with a stern pointed finger as he layed his cane across his lap. "Wouldn't dream of it." You smiled, pulling on his black coat and wide brimmed hat, earning a whistle from the London gangster. You scoffed at his actions and left the house. Alfie tapped his cane against the floor, idly for a few minutes, to make sure you had left the house. He stood with a start, leaning his cane against the wall by the coat rack. "Finally." He grumbled to himself, Cyril lifted his head with a whine. "What?" Alfie groaned. Cyril replied with another whine, "You're serious? I should've been an actor, pulling off a performance like that." He mused. Cyril's ears perked forward as he tilted his head to the side, "Don't look at me like that, you mutt! A little lie never hurt anyone." Alfie said in retort. "Come on, we've got work to do." Alfie called as he walked out of the room with the mastiff at his heels.

"Where's Mr. Solomons?" Ollie asked, eyes wide with worry, or maybe they were wide from being startled by you slamming the door behind you to announce your presence in the warehouse, Thomas Shelby may have been right when he proclaimed you to be as eccentric as your husband, not that you cared. "Home," you stated, "Sciatica's giving him problems again." Ollie's features lit up knowingly as he nodded with a smile, "Right," the young assistant chirped, "shall we get to work then?". You spent the morning sifting through the messy state, Alfie always left his desk in. Papers strewn here and there, pens discarded wherever they happen to be instead of being put back in their holder, an abandoned glass of what's left of last night's whiskey on the rocks. You picked up the glass and inspected it carefully, shrugging your shoulders and deciding you only lived once. You took a small sip from the glass. Ollie narrowed his eyes as you swallowed the unsavory and heavily deluded room temperature liquid with a grimace. "What?" You asked, noticing the odd look Ollie was giving you. "Why?" Was the only word he could utter. "Why not? I'll have you know Mother didn't raise a milksop." You smiled, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk, a finger pointed right at Ollie. "And I'll have you know, you're just like Alfie." Ollie said, shaking his head with a sigh.

"Hmm," Alfie hummed, making adjustments to his tie in the mirror. "What you'd think?" He asked, turning around to face his oversized lap dog that was rather at home, sprawled out on his dad's bed unapologetically. Cyril lifted his head with a grunt, looking at Alfie with half lidded eyes as he gestured to his black necktie. "Tie or no tie?" He asked. Cyril blinked at him a couple of times before letting out a long, drawn-out groan as he flopped his head back down on the bed and stretched out his legs. "Tie it is then." Alfie said, slipping a light gray wool button vest over his white dress shirt. So far, his plan was going marvelously. Everything downstairs was neat and tidy, just the way you liked it. He had even spent extra time on the showroom that you had become rather proud of, and now he was dressed for the occasion. All that was left was to cook and set the table, and maybe just maybe, he thought to himself, if he had planned this correctly, he would be done by the time you were to return. "Oh," Alfie muttered upon exiting the bedroom, "almost forgot." He added, returning to the dresser. He rummaged for a bit before shutting the drawer with a soft thunk, "Cyril, here boy." he called. The bull mastiff left his comfy spot on the bed, sitting down at Alfie's feet and wagging his tail with a lazy pace, and his large pink tongue hung out of the side of his mouth. "Now there's a handsome lad." Alfie smiled after attaching the clip on bow tie to Cyril's collar, giving his handsome lad some headpats because handsome lads deserve their headpats.

"Have a safe trip home." Ollie waved you off as you sat a bag of paperwork in the backseat. "To you as well." You returned the wave, sliding yourself into the car. "Homeward bound?" Your driver asked. "Indeed." You nodded. You leaned your head back, closing your eyes with a sigh, and finally allowed your tired limbs to go limp and just be for the first time all day. It had been a while since you ran the bakery without your husband on hand. Alfie often asked you to accompany him to his meetings, claiming it was because he wanted your opinions, which was only partially true. You could be just as business savvy as him, but you've also brought a certain air into any space you enter that Alfie decided he'd rather not do without. A smirk lined your lips when you recalled your first face to face meeting with the Shelby clan, Alfie waltzed into the Shelby estate and announced that any and all ill treatment of you would not be tolerated with his pistol on full display as he waved it around. Before you knew it, you were on your doorstep, fumbling with your keys. You sighed in satisfaction when the lock finally clicked open, stepping into the warmth of home and out of the chilly Camden air. "Alfie, I'm home." You called, setting the briefcase of papers by the coat rack and shrugging off your husband's jacket. "In the kitchen, love." You heard Alfie call back. You narrowed your eyes as they landed on his cane, leaning against the wall. Deciding to ignore it, you followed the mouthwatering sent of dinner into the kitchen. Alfie was leaning back on the counter with his arms and legs crossed and a warm grin on his face. You eyed him up and down, and Alfie nodded toward the candle lit table. "Well," Alfie asked, making you turn back to him. "What you'd think?" He asked with a loving smile. "Everything looks wonderful," you murmured, "especially you." Alfie's grin widened, and he moved toward you, his hands readily finding your waist as he leaned in for a kiss. "Did you do all this?" You asked, Alfie nodded, but then a loud deep bark filled the room. You both looked down at the panting mastiff that was staring up at you, awaiting his own kiss. "Cyril helped to." Alfie said. Your face split into a grin, "I'm sure he did." You stated, binding down to place a kiss on Cyril's wet black nose, which he gratefully returned, making you giggle. Alfie returned his hands to your waist, "Happy anniversary, love." Alfie murmured, holding you close. "What about your sciatica?" You asked, a slightly worried look in your eyes. "Well, I had to get you out of the house somehow." Alfie chuckled, making you shake your head with a smile.

"You crafty bastard."

Out of patience.

Prohibition era Franklin County was full of secrets. The Bondurant brothers knew this better than anybody. After all, more than half of the county's supposed law enforcement were paying them, and no one really knew who that new highfalutin deputy thought he was. Eighteen year old Jack Bondurant and his eldest brother, Howard, considered Franklin's greatest mystery to be their brother Forrest, more specifically, wherever he'd been disappearing to after closing time. Howard pushed Jack to follow when they spotted Forrest heading off into the woods. Jack pressed his shoulder firmly against an elm that was just barely wide enough to hide him from sight if he stood sideways. He peered around the tree and was met with a view of his older brother's back. Forrest moved through the fallen leaves with the ease of a predator silently stalking its pray. He came to a stop, turning around suddenly, Jack jerked his head back out of sight so hard he might as well have jerked it clean off his shoulders, he exhaled sharply. Peering around the tree again a moment later, only to see nothing. Jack narrowed his eyes in confusion and relaxed his stance. Suddenly, he was grabbed and roughly shoved back into the tree. "Gah!" He exclaimed, sighing when he found himself eye to eye with Forrest. "What're you doin' Jack?" He asked quietly but sternly. "How the hell did you..", "I asked you a question." Forrest snapped, cutting Jack off. "What are you hiding?" Jack asked. Forrest loosened his grip on his little brother's arms and reeled back slightly, mulling over the question in his head. "Me and Howard's been seein' you take off in this direction for weeks now." Jack added. Forrest glanced off to the side as he removed his hat and held it against his chest, "Now what makes the two of you think what I do is any of your goddamn business?" He grumbled, gesturing between Jack and himself. Jack furrowed his brow, opening his mouth to speak but was ultimately cut off by Forrest once again, "Why don't you go pay your preacher friend a vist, better yet, go help Cricket fix the car. Whatever you do, just let me worry about what I got goin' on, alright?" The older brother explained, stepping aside. Jack stood and stared suspiciously at Forrest for a moment. "Well, go on, get!" Forrest ordered, flicking his head back in the direction of the station. Jack hung his head, glancing up at Forrest as he pasted him, feeling rather disgruntled.

Forrest sighed as he watched Jack until he disappeared into the underbrush. Briefly entertaining the irony of effectively telling Jack to go sneak around with that preacher's daughter, with himself being in the same situation tenfold. If that new common wealth's attorney knew what was going on right under his nose, Forrest was sure he'd be hunted down and sent to the gallows by Wardell himself. He pushed on despite these thoughts. He wrapped calloused fingers around the jar, barely being contained by his sweater pocket, as he treaded the unstable ground. He'd promised a gift last time, and he'd damn himself to all eternity if he didn't keep his word. He allowed a smile to tug at his lips as he saw you at your usual meeting spot, rear end parked on a log, waiting. A twig snapping under one of his heavy boots made you jump with a gasp, "You came." You smiled, standing up to hug his neck. "Yeah, finally." He said quietly, "had to deal with Jack before I could get away from the station." He added. "I wish I could meet your brothers someday." You sighed, sitting back down. "Oh, I'd say you will, with the rate we're going." He replied, taking a seat next to you, his smile becoming more of a smirk. You rolled your eyes with a smile, and he scoffed at your reaction. Forrest reached for his pocket with a deep sigh, retrieving the Mason jar, inspecting the clear liquor before nodding and handing it to you. You cracked the lid and brought the jar to your lips, smiling as the burn of watermelon moonshine engulfed your senses. "I'll never understand how you drink that fruity stuff." Forrest teased. You smirked as you took another gulp, batting your eyes at him innocently over the jar. "Don't you go givin' me that, I've seen you put that stuff away quicker than Howard does, and that's sayin' somethin'." He chuckled, leaning forward. "What's in the box?" He asked, gesturing to the square shaped box with a red ribbon tied around it that you had brought with you. "That's your gift." You smiled, wedging the open jar between your legs. You picked the box up and placed it in his lap, "You didn't." He grumbled, eyeing the logo on the box after removing the ribbon. "You have wire wrapped around one of your boots," you exclaimed, "it's past time you got new ones." You added. Forrest stared at you for a moment, "Do I have to put'em on?" He asked you stubbornly. "Yes, you do." You giggled. Forrest shook his head lightly but moved to replace his old work boots nonetheless. "You know you have every lawman in three counties up your ass right now?" You questioned. "Yeah, but the government of this state ain't the only way that the sheriff gets paid, and I've spent the better part of my years doing this, so I've got a government of my own, and I can run quicker when there is no sun." He responded. A smirk laced your lips as you took another drink. Forrest finished lacing his new boots just as a metallic sound caught his ears, turning his head to the side. He saw you toying with a pair of handcuffs, folding them over in your hands repeatedly. "Where'd you get them from?" He asked. "Well," you said with a half-suppressed laugh, "let's just say Rakes is going to miss the pleasure of seeing you in these." You grinned at him. "You stole'em." He said, his voice wasn't accusatory nor was his statement a question, just a simple matter of stating a fact. "And here I thought I was the criminal in this mess." He mused, standing up to shrug off his sweater, making your eyes light up as you grinned widely, to give you better access to whatever you wanted whilst mentally trying to burn the image of your expression into his brain.

Forrest ascended the front steps of Balckwater station slowly with a heavy sigh, knowing his brothers would leave the side door unlocked to await his return, like always. His body still felt as if it were reeling from its exploits, but he didn't mind. The change of pace was nice once in a while, and at least he knew he would get some good rest once he finally made it to his bed. He shut the door behind him and clicked the lock in place. Another sigh left his lips as he struck a match and lit up a smoke. He was careful not to smoke around you. Less the smell got you in trouble. Not that Mason Wardell was any better a man than Forrest thought himself to be. They were both outside the law in a way, just with different backgrounds and upbringings. However, Wardell was viewed as more approachable to the public eye that Forrest preferred to stay out of. The light of the embers and the staunch smell of tobacco were the only things that seemed to fill the room. Everything appeared still, or so Forrest thought. "Where the hell have you been?!" Howard exclaimed as soon as Forrest entered the barroom. "Nowhere that's any of your goddamn business!" Forrest retorted, sitting the box with the red ribbon out of sight behind the bar, Howard didn't need an invitation to ask more questions. Forrest parked himself on a barstool. In hopes, taking the time to savor his smoke would be enough to wait out Howard. The eldest ran his eyes up and down his baby brother, searching for anything that was amiss. "What're you starin' at your boots for?" Howard asked, leaning back in his chair. Forrest mulled over his words, "Had to get new ones." He finally said. Howard narrowed his eyes. Something still wasn't adding up in his head. Forrest never buys himself anything unless he's forced to. However, the brothers returned to their separate indulgences silently, Howard likely to succumb to a drunken stupor before ever actually making it to bed, and eventually, Forrest smudged out the butt of his cigar and made his own way to bed without a single word of a goodnight.

Forrest stared into his black coffee with a heavy exhale, taking a small break from his ledger to let his thoughts that had been clouding his work consume him. You were back in your world, and he's still stuck in his. He still carried a stinging feeling of guilt over first impressions, "You send your clown with the bowtie 'round here again, I'll make sure you personally pull a clever out of his fuckin' skull." He growled, yanking roughly on the breast pocket of Mason Wardell's shirt. He locked eyes with you as you gave him what appeared to be an approving smile and a small silent wave. He approached you in town a few days later, making sure your daddy was nowhere to be seen. You followed him behind the general goods store for privacy. "I, uh.." He started almost nervously, removing his hat, "I do apologize if I frightened you at the station the other day, I have no qualms with you." He wasn't even sure why he felt the need to apologize to you. You smiled at him again, "Honestly, I dislike that prig of a deputy just as much as you do. Dad is just as bad. That man takes a shit and thinks half of Virginia falls out of his ass." You chuckled. You giggled again as Forrest' brows made an impressive attempt to touch.

"Thank you so much for all the help, dear." You smiled as the elder woman grabbed your arm and shook it lightly. "You're very welcome, Selma." You replied, loading the rest of her groceries into her husband's truck, making sure to help her into the passenger seat when you were done. "Need a ride home?" Glen, her husband, asked. "Do you need help putting the shopping away?" You asked. "No, deary. You've done quite enough already, don't need a youngin spending their whole life worrying over us old folks." She smiled. "In that case, I'll see you at Sunday dinner. I have one more stop to make." You smiled. The older couple nodded, sending you off with a wave. Along the way, you intercepted a runaway ball, stopping it with the side of your foot. You smiled and waved before kicking the ball back to the eagerly awaiting group of kids with a light laugh. "Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson." You grinned. The old man tipped his hat as you gave his two dogs ear scratches. As small a town as Franklin County is, it felt like home. The only place that felt more like home was that little out of the way gas station just before you hit the county line. You kicked the heel of your boots against the edge of the steps to knock off the mud, "Alright, you boys better keep up the good business!" A man exclaimed, letting the door fall shut behind him. His exclamation made you look up at him with a sharp inhale through your nose. "Well, I'll be damned," the stranger said, removing his hat, "last place I'd expect that common wealth's attorney's offspring." He smiled. "I'm here on personal business, sir." You said coldly. "Of course, I didn't mean to pry. The Bondurants are in, and tell your father Floyd Banner says hi." The man said with a smirk, opening the door and holding it for you. "I say hi for no one." You muttered, walking past him. "Well, at least one of the Wardell's has some sense about them." He said jovial, letting the door shut as you turned back to give him a disgruntled look. You sighed, turning your back to the screen door. You were being ogled by two men at the bar. The younger of the two was dressed sharply, and he appeared to have stopped in the middle of wiping down the bar counter at the sight of you, judging by the rag in his hand. "This must be Jack." You thought. The other was atop a barstool, brown curls were in disarray on his head, and a wild look filled his eyes, a jar of hooch in his large hand. "Damn." The wild-eyed man said. "I'm lookin' for Forrest Bondurant, either one of you know where I can find him?" You asked. The man on the stool smiled widely with a nod, "Well, you'd think I'd know where to find'em, seeing how he's my brother and all." He said with a laugh, stumbling drunkenly as he tried to stand, catching himself on the edge of the bar. "Ah, Howard." The realization dawned on you. "He's in the kitchen. You can go on back, good luck gettin' anything out of'em." He added with an amused smirk. "Much appreciated." You smiled, feeling less of need to be formal, considering what you've heard of these two. Howard raised his jar to you with a smile, Jack nodded and gestured to a doorway, and you nodded back.

Sure enough, you found Forrest. Fitting a crust into a pie tin, of all the things you thought you'd never see him do. "What's this then?" You asked, smiling so hard at the sight before you, your cheeks became sore. "Well, somebody's got to do something with these apples, ain't no sense in lettin'em rot." He responded without looking up, starting to fill the crust with said apple slices. You stood quietly, just watching as he placed the slices in a meticulous pattern, admiring him with a smile. Forrest could feel a pair of eyes on him. However, it didn't feel like either of his brothers, and Maggie only came to him with questions or when she needed something. This stare didn't feel unfamiliar, however. So, he looked up and let his closed fists land on the table with a heavy thump. "What the hell are you doin'?" He exclaimed quietly. "Forrest?" A voice called. "Oh," a red-headed woman appeared, covering her mouth with her hand. "I wasn't aware you had company." She smiled apologetically. Forrest glanced between the two of you, hurriedly getting the top layer of crust on his apple pie, cutting vent slits with a knife. "Put this in the oven, would ya Maggie?" He asked, washing his hands. "Sure, Forrest." Maggie replied. "I've got business to attend to." He grumbled, eyeing you as he dried his hands. Forrest led you into his office. He locked the door behind him and shut the blinds. He spun you around and grabbed your wrists in an urgent manner. "Now, I asked you a question. What the hell were you thinkin' showin' up here?!" He spoke hurriedly. "First of all," you started, gently freeing your wrists from his grip. "Calm down." You said. Forrest sighed, rounding the corner of his desk and running his hands through his hair. "Just for the love of God, tell me what your doin' here." He urged again. You began to walk toward him, a smirk on your face. "Uh... what.., what are you doin?" He murmured. Your hands readily found his shirt collar, pushing him back against the wall and capturing his lips with yours. His hands were on your waist in an instant. Both of you were out of breath when you pulled apart, staring into each other's eyes for a moment.

"Couldn't wait." You breathed.

One more second chance.

The Vandals could get rowdy without a doubt. You glanced back as a loud cheer erupted out of the crowd of leather jackets and vests that engulfed over half of the parking lot, only to see Benny whisking a doe-eyed Kathy into their midst. You shook your head lightly, feeling slightly bad for the poor girl. Wasn't that long ago the two of you decided a night out was long overdue. Now you wondered if your sheltered high school best friend would be able to cope in your world, well, used to be yours.

Your sights were set on a lone red bike, parked on the opposite side to the others. Not that there wasn't enough room, even if that was the case, the only thing any onlooker would've seen was a flash and blur of movement, there ain't a Vandal worth their weight in salt that would leave their leader out on a cold curb. Johnny was like that, always had been actually, staring up and down the highway with a cigarette between his fingers. You supposed the trucker in him would always shine through. "She's still running?" You asked, gesturing to his bike. You could tell your voice startled him by the split second wide-eyed look he gave you, "Yeah." He nodded, bringing his smoke up to his lips, evening out his features like nothing happened. Classic Johnny. "No, she's not," you said with a confused look, "she's right here." You exclaimed, pointing at the bike. "Heh, very funny." Johnny quipped.

"The old man wanted some alone time with his smokes, I take it?" You teased. "What old man? Where?" Johnny questioned, narrowing his eyes and making a show of looking in all directions, including up in the air. You laughed lightly as you watched the index finger of his right hand flick the side of the cigarette he held in his left, another quirk that hadn't changed. Your eyes became glued to his ring finger as the smoke once again reached his lips, "You're still married?" You questioned. An amused smirk appeared on Johnny's face, "Heh, not for long." He responded. "Still lasted longer than I ever expected." You smiled. Johnny scoffed and shook his head, "Well, that makes two of us." Comfortably resting a hand on your lower back as you joined him in leaning against his bike.

"How's the ink shop? Haven't been by there in a hot minute." He asked. "Business is good." You said. Johnny nodded, "What'd I'd like to know," Johnny turned back to you, "is where did that pal of yours, Benny, get my design on his shoulder?" You asked, patting the logo on the back of Johnny's jacket with your palm. "Look, if I'd known he was going to get it tattooed, I would've sent him to you." Johnny defended himself. It was readily apparent that Benny didn't know your history when he introduced you to Johnny.

Silence befell the night air for a moment, "How long have we known each other?" You questioned. "You ask me that as if we weren't drunk when we met." Johnny chuckled. You smirked and rested your head on his shoulder, right where you could feel the thump of his heartbeat against your temple, staring up at a star filled sky. Your countless offs and ons with Johnny ran through your mind. You wondered many hows and whys in the span of a couple minutes. "Do you think we gave us too many second chances?" You questioned, out of the blue. "Why would I?" He responded, "we may be bad for each other, but it's not like we're good for anyone else." He added.

The moment was interrupted by the rumble of bikes roaring to life, "Hey," Benny called, coming to a stop next to you and Johnny, Kathy hugging his midsection for dear life. "We ready to go, boss?" Benny asked, gesturing to Johnny. Johnny turned to you, unintentionally bringing emphasis to his knees, bowed to an extent from straddling a hunk of metal for so many years, in the process. This made you smile the same way it did back then. "What'd ya think?" He asked, offering his hand to you.

"One more second chance?"

The gangster.

London, east end. 1965.

Maybe it was the elegant suit. Maybe it was the fact that he was currently strutting down the middle of Ormsby Street with a sleek Ford Galaxy at his back, following along like a loyal dog, saying good morning to everyone he passed. You'd say Reginald Kray was a well distinguished business savvy man, but you'd also had to have been living under a rock for several years to say that. Wasn't a single soul left in London who didn't know who the Kray twins were, Ron Kray was a one-man London mob. Reggie was quite the opposite, really, suave, charming, but proved to be just as volatile. You could walk into any pub to hear a lie or two about them.

The radio played a sort of upbeat tune as you whisked around the kitchen, humming along around the hardboiled sweet in your mouth. The morning had started out ordinarily enough, hurrying around to finish the chores your mother gave you alongside the promise to grant you the rest of the day to do with as you wished, so the quicker you finished the more time you'd have to enjoy yourself, right?. Maybe you'd go to one of the local shops for a bit of browsing, or perhaps pop out for a bite to eat with some friends. These thoughts were disturbed by a pounding at the front door. "I'll get it!" You shouted, with you being the only one downstairs currently, made sense, you figured.

You were met by a pair of piercing blue eyes that narrowed and the man's forehead creased as his clear and bright orbs scanned over your appearance, "Frank about?" The man asked before the twinge of regret of flinging the front door open so eagerly could properly settle in your gut. It would surely rear its ugly head later. "Frank!" You called over your shoulder into the house and up the stairwell. You turned back to face the finely dressed man with faux confidence, leaning against the door frame, determined to make yourself appear unintimidated. The man ran his eyes over your frame once again unashamedly, "Who are you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side with a quizzical look. "Frank's my older brother." You stated. "Hang about, I know you, but you.. you were smaller then. You've all grown up, haven't you?" He said with a half-suppressed smile. "It happens." You said, stepping out of the doorway, relishing in the coolness of the cobblestone underneath your bare feet. You both looked up at the sound of a window rising, and your older brother's head popped out, "Half a minute, Reg. right down." Frank called down, ducking back in.

Thankfully, the man in front of you didn't seem to either notice or much care that you snapped your attention back to him. Reggie Kray, at your doorstep, you marveled silently in your mind. The corners of his lips curled downwards into a frown. He adjusted his tie as he checked his watch. "Is my brother in trouble?" You questioned. Reggie nodded, then tilted his head to the side, away from you. Narrowed eyes still aimed down the street. "Will you go out with me?" He asked seemingly out of the blue, turning back to you suddenly. Your eyes widened in surprise. "I'll take it easy on him if you do." He added, a warm expression spreading across his face accompanied by a half smile. "Yes," you said, rolling your candy around in your mouth with your tongue, making clack off your teeth, "but not for that reason." You added.

"What's that you've got?" Reggie asked, gesturing to you. "A sweet." You explained, pulling the sticky light yellow olive shaped drop out of your mouth, holding it between your thumb and forefinger. "Oh, now that's not just any sweat, is it? That's a lemon sherbet." Reggie said matter of factly. "Mind if I have a crack?" He asked, reaching for the sweet. "Alright." You smiled with a light chuckle. Reggie popped the sweet tasting drop into his mouth, "Mmm, now that's nice." He mused, "Saturday night?" He asked. You nodded with a smile.

Suddenly, Mrs. Shea, your mother, appeared beside you. "What's the matter with you?" She scolded, "You’re half dressed talking to a man in the door. Get back in the kitchen. Finish them dishes." She ordered, pulling at the end of your fuzzy peach colored sweater. Not that you cared, if Reggie Kray would openly ask you out in your lounge wear, bare feet and all, did you really need to dress to the tens twenty-four hours a day. You shrugged, turning to head deeper into the house. "Hold on," Reggie started, making you turn back to him. His eyes shifted to your mother as he took your lemon sherbet out of his mouth, "This is yours, init?" He asked. You nodded, taking the sweet, looking your mother directly in the eye as you popped it back into your mouth before you sauntered off. Much to her displeasure. She growled at Reggie as he licked the sticky candy coating off his fingers before slamming the door in his face.

"Hmm," Reggie hummed as he thought to himself with a smirk, glancing between the cobble and the door, "well, the mum seems lovely."

#when they keep secrets #tommy conlon warrior #eddie brock/venom symbiote #alfie solomons peaky blinders #forrest bondurant fanfiction #johnny vandal the bikeriders #reggie kray legend #tom hardy #hope you enjoy #guess you can consider this WIP Wednesday lol #i might be focusing more on an original piece for a while but we'll see what i get inspiration for

[warnersister]

Peaky blinders headcannon ->

“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”

Find the request here

Tommy🪖

🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.

🪖You’d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.

🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”

🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?

🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.

🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.

🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.

🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”

🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.

Alfie🧸

🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?

🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.

🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.

🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.

🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”

🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.

🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.

🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.

🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.

Arthur🍺

🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.

🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.

🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.

🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.

🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.

🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.

🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.

🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”

🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.

John🥃

🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.

🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.

🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”

🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.

🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.

🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.

🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.

Bonnie🥊

🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.

🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.

🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.

🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.

🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”

🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.

🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.

🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.

🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.

Isaiah♟️

♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.

♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.

♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?

♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.

♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.

♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.

♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.

♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.

♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.

Michael🎱

🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.

🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.

🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.

🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.

🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”

🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.

🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.

🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.

🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.

🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.

🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.

🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.

🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.

🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.

🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.

🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”

🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.

🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.

🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”

🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.

🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.

🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”

Finn🎞️

🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.

🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.

🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.

🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.

🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.

🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.

🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.

🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.

🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”

🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.

🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.

🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.

🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.

🎞️“Nice.”

#masterlist #xreader #smut #fluff #warner sister #angst #requests #x you #imagine #peaky blinders #Thomas Shelby #John Shelby #Arthur Shelby #Alfie solomons #Bonnie gold #Isaiah Jesus #Michael gray #Finn Shelby #Tommy Shelby #thomas shelby x reader #John Shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #Bonnie gold x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #michael gray x you #michael gray x reader #finn shelby x reader #Peaky blinders x you #Peaky blinders headcannon #headcannon

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Alfie noticing that guys who are way younger than him (like Michael? John?) having a thing for reader, who is close to age to these young gentlemen but has only eyes for ol' man Alfie? Thoughts?

Near Deadly Sin

Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; fluff

AN: IM BAAAAACCCCKKK hello my loves it’s taking me forever to write again but I’m glad to be back. I miss you all and hope you all are doing well!!! MUAH - Mo

No. No this acidic flame burning between his ribs is not jealousy.

Not at all.

The embers stoked in his chest. The flames licking up his neck and around his ears. These are normal… manly… sensible reactions.

Alfie had been invited for ‘drinks’ with the Shelbys. He had refused adamantly, and was only coerced upon your promise to accompany him and to never. leave. his. sight. As if you would ever be far from him or out of his thunderous gaze. But as he is sitting across from Thomas and Arthur and Polly, he is regretting ever bringing you near this nonsense. This den of wolves and snakes. The murmurs of Thomas faded like the crackle of a radio as he focused in on John Shelby’s lustful gaze over you. With every sweep of his young and unbridled eyes and suck of his teeth, Alfie became more and more enraged. Not that you noticed. You didn’t notice John’s roving eyes or the quickening pulse of your husband next to you. You were content sipping the tea Polly served, making quiet conversation with Ada in the corner, holding a babbling Karl.

Alfie knew there was supposed to be a deal or something tonight. Or maybe an update on a job. Or something. It didn’t matter. Fuck the business. Fuck the Shelbys. Fuck John Shelby. Fuck it all. Standing quickly, pushing through the screaming pain of his back, Alfie grunts, “Darling get your coat. We’re done here.”

Your head spun, “Meyn Likht?”

“Up. Coat. Now. Cyril needs us.”

You press your lips in a firm line. Holding back your tongue from lashing at him for his impromptu exit. You knew what he actually meant. Thinking of Cyril was his code for indicating murderous intent that needed to be snuffed out immediately. You watch Alfie as you slip on your coat, going to Thomas to whisper something just out of your reach. Had you heard him, you would have heard the volcanic timber of his voice promise, “You control that little brother of yours Tommy yeah? It’s against holy law to look at another man’s wife like he been doing. Will have to go back to Mosaic law if he don’t shape up.”

With heavy stomps he approaches John, who is trying yet failing to keep a stone expression. “You keep them eyes to yourself little boy. Or someone may just take ‘em from you.”

“Darling? Cyril needs to be let out and will not wait for you!”

With a firm pat on the cheek Alfie turned away, gripping your waist firmly, hand as hot as a brand on the skin under your dress.

-

It’s late now, Alfie is fuming under the crisp sheets and thick quilts layered living on the soft bed. He’s pretending to read. Putting on his glasses and taking them back off again to stare at the ceiling. You emerge from the bathroom, face flush from the hot water, and hair pulled away from your bare shoulders. Arms crossed across your chest, you sit on Alfie’s side of the bed, “You want to talk about it like a grown up now?”

He huffs and shifts lower into the bed, as if to hide from you. With a shrug you walk back to your side, shuffling your sock feet across. You crawl back in bed, back to Alfie to let him fume. It was better than fighting with him to get him to share his feelings.

“He was looking at you.”

“Well Karl is a baby darling.”

“Not Karl! John fucking Shelby! Little bastard was undressing you with his eyes! And you said nothing!”

Ah… there it was.

You let yourself sit up to look at your husband’s face. Folded up into himself, glasses precariously balanced on his nose, cheeks ruddy from rage. Jealousy was his greatest sin and vice. Bigger than rage. Bigger than his love of rum. He was an only child and as such he grew into a man who did not like to share. Not even your image. You curled up next to him, like a cat preening for attention. “Meyn Likht… I didn’t even see him. You shouldn’t be jealous of a figure of vapor.”

“What you don’t notice the… the young men just staring at you? Gapped mouths like dead fish?”

“Those children?” You hum, gently kissing his scruffy jaw and temple.

“Those… men closer in age… to you.”

With that you crawl into his lap, looping your arms around his broad shoulders. “Darling… what could I do with those men? I’d break them.”

“Break them?” He chuckles, gripping you tighter.

“They’re too soft. Too pretty. No. I like my men… rougher… more sturdy… someone who can stand strong and not worry about their pretty face getting dirty. I like my old man.”

“Do you now?”

“Love him even. Deliriously in love with him. Couldn’t live without him.”

Before you could take another breath, he was on you, kissing all over your face, tickling you with his rough beard and mustache. “Good Lord woman you make me feel 20 again.”

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic

[anonymooseforever007]

I Know Him

(Platonic Alfie Solomons x step daughter reader) (Background Finn Shelby x Reader)

Summery: Alfie Solomons is in for a surprise one morning when his soon to be step daughter greets him with a hug. Which wasn't unusual in itself, but he never expected it to happen at Tommy Shelby's house... or while she was wearing Finn Shelby's clothes....

A/N: Hi Y'all! I don't think there are any TW's for this! I just wanted to write a fluffy and funny idea about Alfie realising his sweetheart's daughter is dating a Shelby and she's just absolutely oblivious to their past. Also as with all of my Finn stories both him and the reader are over 18. Enjoy! ❤️

WC- 4.0k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was dreaming.

Yes, that had to be it. She couldn't really be here could she? It wasn't really her was it? Smiling to him at seven in the morning at his friendliest enemy's house? In..... is that the little one's shirt?

He had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation to it.

At least that's what Alfie Solomons told himself once he saw his sweetheart's daughter waving at him when he walked in the front hall of Tommy Shelby's house that morning. Not only was she waving, but she was practically jumping up and down in excitement when she saw him, eager to see the man who would be her stepfather one day.... 

"ALFIE!! Is that you!!! Hi!!! What are you doing here?! My mum said you had a trip this week!"

Bouncy Excitement? Speaking at sonic speeds? Criminal amounts of energy for this early in the morning? Almost falling face first on the floor in her rush to hug him?..... Yep. This was his Y/N.

Automatically, Alfie returned the hug, something he'd grown more than accustomed to doing with his fiancée's daughter. Especially when it had been a few weeks since he'd seen you. You were born when your parents were fifteen, and now twenty years later, you were in your second year at a university, halfway between London and Birmingham. Your father had tragically died during the war, and it had taken your mother almost a decade to start dating again. And if by a storybook miracle, she'd fallen helplessly for the single, "semi-retired", grumpiest neighbor in Margret, who often walked with a cane and whose only friend seemed to be his dog. Three years ago they'd met one day when Cryil had lost his collar and you had found him sitting pitifully under a tree....not even two gardens down from his home. But you hadn't know then, and believing the dog to have no family, took him back to your house. It wasn't hard either, as soon you held out your hand, Cyril was up, eagerly following his "new master" and it wasn't until the next day Alfie showed up, having heard the familiar barking. He'd been searching for Cyril all night, only to finally hear his yapping not even two doors down. Furious at the idea someone had kidnapped his best friend, Alfie had come over, knocking angrily on the door, with half a mind to take up his "old" profession. But when the door opened, instead of a grisly old bastard, Alfie was met with the closest thing to an angel he'd ever seen. It wasn't just her beauty, but her voice and the kind way she looked at him that captivated the man. And then when he looked inside the house he'd seen another young woman, laughing as Cyril attempted to sit on her lap in the small chair. And he wouldn't realise it until a few months later, but that would be a sight Alfie wanted to see every morning. A year later, he'd officially started going around with your mother, though the secret was well kept from any of his business associates. Alfie also saw the younger woman herself as his own child now too. He'd even taking to calling you "Shiny" after your sunny disposition. He wouldn't admit it, but Alfie definitely teared up, more than once, on the first day the couple dropped you off at your University. He also wouldn't admit how he'd never been more nervous than six months ago when he'd asked you for permission to propose. You had obviously said yes, but not before staring at him silently for six minutes with a gaze that could make any Shelby break into a sweat. Speaking of Shelbys ....

"Y/N why are you hugging Alfred Solomons?"

Alfie looked up at the stairs and saw not one, but at least four (and a half) different Shelby watching him from the stairs. Now he could have chosen to make fun of the mess that was Arthur's hair, but instead he focused on someone else. Because Arthur's hair may have look like a drunken bird's nest, but it was Finn Shelby who'd spoken.... And it was Finn Shelby wearing the matching pants to your shirt. So it was Finn Shelby who was currently in a lot more danger than he was five minutes ago. Truthfully, Alfie had only talked to the young man twice and hadn't been bothered by the quiet Shelby too much. In fact, he might even go as far to say the he favoured Finn the most because he'd talked to him the least. And the more the Shelbys talked to Alfie, the less he began to like them. But the sight before Alfie was enough to send Finn Shelby right to the top of the "excruciatingly painful death" hit list he promised your mother he'd "lost" long ago.

"FINN! Look! It's Alfie! I've told you about him haven't I?"

Finn himself was still half asleep, but he'd heard your surprised shout from the bedroom when you went to the bathroom and wanted to make sure you were alright. Only he thought he was still dreaming when he saw you embracing the man who had caused his family so much trouble before. Evidently, your excitement had been brought to more than one Shelby's attention and now he was standing with Arthur, Linda, Lizzie (holding Ruby), and John at the top of the stairs. All half awake and just as confused. Most of them were wondering if this was going to be another Grace situation.... But you hadn't noticed any of that yet. Hurrying up the stairs, you'd grabbed Finn's hand and brought the still tried younger man down to "meet" Alfie. Once the two men were situated in front of each other, you spoke the words that shocked both of them wide awake.

"Finn meet Alfie, my step dad. And Alfie meet Finn, my Boyfriend."

"STEP DAD?"

"BOYFRIEND!!!"

"Ahhh yes!! Isn't it great!! You two get to meet for the first time!! Ohh you'll love each other so much!!"

Oblivious to the shock of your companions, you bounced on the balls of your feet, eager for your favourite two men to finally meet. From the top of the stairs, John had rushed off to wake up Esme and Ada, while Linda was coaching Arthur through breathing again. Lizzie just sipped her tea silently as baby Ruby clapped at the drama. Finn stared at the floor, trying to process what he'd just heard. In the end, it was Alfie whose shock was broken first.

"No."

The bouncing stopped and it was your turn to look at Alfie confused.

"What do you mean no?"

"You're not dating him Shiny."

"Yes, I am." 

"No, you're not."

"Yes, Alfie I am." You said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"You're dating him?"

"Yes!"

"Did they kidnap you? Are they forcing you to say this?"

"No?"

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure I'm not kidnapped?"

"He asked you out and you agreed?"

"He took me for dinner and a movie!"

"You agreed to be with him?"

"Eagerly!"

"You and him?"

"Him and I!"

"Him?"

"Yes! Isn't he brilliant!"

Eagerly, you looked towards your boyfriend who looked offend by the fact Alfie didn't seem to believe you could ever have any interest in him. Sure, Finn occasionally questioned it himself multiple times a day, but still. Though you payed no attention to his annoyance and wrapped your arms around your love, happily hugging him to yourself. Then you turned around facing your soon to be step father again, with Finn's arms still wrapped comfortably around your waist as they had been when you'd woken up that morning.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why Ally? He's brilliant! He's nice and strong and respectful. He takes me on fun dates and he listens to me. He lets me hug and kiss him whenever I want and he's not afraid to tell me how he feels, though it did take a bit to get to that part! He lets me hold his hand and steal his shirts and he doesn't mind it when I ramble a lot. And there's a whole bunch more too but that's just the tip. I ran into him at a race with my friends one day and we just clicked. Isn't it great! He treats me exactly how you treat my mom and I think that's brilliant! Finn's brilliant!"

Alfie froze for a second thinking about his options. On one hand you obviously knew nothing about what the Shelby really did for work and must not have realised what you were getting yourself into. On the other hand, you were one of the smartest people Alfie knew, and if Finn really did treat you like Alfie treated your mother, you'd know about his past by the second date... And you'd chosen to accept that. Alfie didn't know which idea scared him more. But right now he could see something else. You were happy....Very happy. Genuinely happy, in the fact you looked at Finn the same way your mother looked at Alfie... Shit you were in love with him. You loved Finn Shelby. And despite the sleep deprived confusion over the boy's face, Alfie had noticed the little spark in Finn's eye that lit up then he'd seen you. Alfie had seen the way Finn had pulled you slightly closer when you'd spun in his arms. You loved Finn Shelby and it seemed he loved you too. Shit. So despite his general distaste for Shelbys, Alfie did the last thing he wanted to do....But he did it for you. Because just like did your mother he'd do anything to see you smile.

"Well then gingersnap. If you treat my girl that nicely... then I guess it's alright to meet you isn't it?"

Somewhat begrudgingly, Alfie stuck his arm out toward the younger man. Finn stared at the arm, hesitantly, as if the moment he touched it, Alfie would pull him on to a knife. And truth be told, if he'd known it wouldn't make you mad, Alfie may have done that. But seeing your beaming grin, made shaking hands worth it. The hidden wince on Finn's face as Alfie increased his grip also seemed to get the unspoken message threat across. One tear from you and every peace deal between the families would be off. And all types of retribution would be fair game.... if your mother didn't get rid of Finn first that was.

 And finally it seemed Finn had processed your earlier words. He had also noticed your eager face and wanted to proceed with caution, careful of crushing your spirits. Obviously you'd mistaken Alfie for your real stepdad? The man you told Finn about so much couldn't possibly be the one who'd thrown his oldest brother in jail and betrayed Tommy every other weekend? Ada and Esme had joined the "observation deck"(second floor balcony) now, and John had gotten his gun incase things went south. Tommy was still no where to be seen.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah Finny?"

"You said this is your step dad?"

"Yes.... well technically not for a few more months, but the wedding is soon and he's basically already it!" 

"Right...but Y/N? You said your step dad was a nice older man who lived by the sea? He's a bit grumpy, but really sweet and likes to make model boats?"

"Yeah he does! This is him! You'll get along great!"

It was Alfie's turn to look slightly offended now. He wasn't that old, and it also occurred to him that while he told your mother about his "past" job, Alfie had never actually explained it to you. You genuinely thought Alfie was a retired baker. Sure, every now and then he'd tell you he was heading to London to consult another friend who was still in business, but that was it. And since you weren't raised in the big city, you really had no knowledge about Alfie's old job. Suddenly, he was dreading the imminent conversation more than ever before. 

"This is him? Are you sure?"

"Yep! I think I know what the guy banging my mum looks like Finny. Not that I ever see it...ew... but you know, Cyril doesn't get locked out of the master bedroom for anything!"

It was a good thing Alfie still had his beard because it helped hide the slight reddening of his cheeks and ears then. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about repeatedly making love to such a magnificent women, it was one of his proudest achievements actually...... but there was something about the fact her daughter knew that made him want to hide... just a little bit. Finn's face also turned red at the mention of Alfie's physical love life.

"Alright love, I believe ya. Just no more about his bedside manner alright? I don't wanna picture that."

"And I don't think I want you picturing it witchy."

"Finally!!," you cheered, clapping your hands quietly, happy both men finally seemed to understand what was going on. But then it brought you to your next question.

"Alfie?.... Why are you here though?.... oh please don't tell me my mum sent you to pick me up?"

"What no, your mum wouldn't do that...wait she knows you're here? What's she got to say about the lanky carrot top here? And how long has this been going on?" Alfie used his fingers to point between your shirt and Finn's pants, indicating what specifically the last sentence meant. Slightly tired of all the questioning you sighed. 

"I called her last night to tell her. It was too late to go back to my apartment and Finn said I could stay here. His brothers were fine with it too....ohh have you met them? I think you'd like Arthur! He likes boxing too, ya know!....but she knows. Also don't call him the lanky carrot top, that's mean. And it's been going on for almost a year now. Not the sleepovers, but the dating bit. We met right before summer break and you know....kept meeting up."

"A fucking year! Hell Shiny, when were you gonna tell us?" Alfie was shocked once again. You'd been dating Finn a whole year and hadn't mentioned it? A small part of him was hurt too, that you hadn't told him yet. He vividly remembered only a couple years ago, when you'd barge into his house looking for Cyril and just start telling him all about your day. Finn stood by just watching the observation, rubbing his red hair self consciously. It wasn't even that red, was it?

"ALMOST a year, and to be fair we hadn't make it official until a few months ago. I just didn't mention it because I wasn't sure if he was really into me or not....But he was, which is great! And I actually told my mom last month and she said I could bring Finn over next weekend maybe to meet him. She was suppose to tell you.... OHH WAIT! I have an idea!"

You were bouncing again, pleased with your new plan. Your mum said you could invite Finn to the house next week, and even though from your calls she seemed to like him, you knew she wasn't just gonna let him slide right into your bed....figuratively speaking. You were her only child and knew she wanted to make sure you were being treated right, so you figured she'd be a bit hard on him at first. When speaking on the phone last week, you'd also overheard her asking Alfie if he'd mind coming over early that day. You knew she wanted him around for a bit more intimidation. The big, dark, grisly figure standing in the shadows, while she interrogated Finn about his intentions. But maybe this unexpected meeting could work in your favour.

"This is great!! Since you and Finn have just met, and you seem to get along great, you can help me show him off to my mum next week! You can vouch that's he's as good as he looks!"

Alfie just stared at you.

There wasn't a single world in which he wanted to positively vouch for any Shelby. Especially one who apparently thought it was acceptable to get within ten feet of you..... without a shirt too. But then again, you had this slightly infuriating way of looking at Alfie. One smile and he was suddenly letting you paint fucking flowers on his fence to brighten the front yard or blowing up who knows what in his backyard. He really did give you too much power sometimes...

"You want me to vouch for him!"

"Yes, I mean you don't have anything against him do you?"

"Fucking actually..."

"What the hell is going on?"

Finally, Tommy showed up, his boots slightly dirty from the barn outside. He'd woken up early to check on the pregnant mare. Only he came back inside to find almost his entire family staying in the front hall, in their pyjamas, along with Y/N and Alfie. The latter of whom he didn't realise was up. If he'd known Alfie was awake, Tommy would have skipped the horse today. If only to insure Alfie didn't go rummaging around. On top of that, Alfie was shooting Finn a glare, hard enough to make Tommy shiver, not that he showed it. What his youngest brother had done to deserve that baffled him, but Tommy had some idea it had to do with the young woman grinning ear to ear.

"Well?"

"Oh! Morning Tommy! Have you met Alfie? He's my stepdad!"

Tommy's nose wrinkled slightly and his lips drew into a thin line. But his eyes went wide and his brows furrowed in confusion. That was probably the last thing he'd expected to hear that morning.

"What?"

This time it was John who spoke up from the top of the stairs, eager to see more drama.

"Yep Tom! This one here is the spawn of Alfie's soon to be missus! Isn't that something?"

Tommy looked at you, and then Alfie, and then you again, then Finn, and finally back to you. Not because he didn't like you, but because he remembered the past, Tommy glared at you lightly.

"Are you a fucking spy? Because I won't have you going around with Finn if you're going to be sharing everything to Alfie here. And you better tell the fucking truth."

Surprised and slightly scared by his change in tone, you took a step back. Despite his reputation, Tommy had always been nice to you, if not a bit reserved like he was with most people. So hearing his "boss" voice was a bit jarring. Annoyed by his tone towards you, Finn and Alfie both stepped forward, glaring at the man who had spoken. You stared in confusion at Tommy for a second, before shrugging and laughing like he'd told a joke.

"Spy? I'm not a spy. What are you talking about Tommy? That's a funny joke though. Y/N the spy.... na I'm a terrible liar. Can't keep a straight face for the life of me. But why would I spy on you for Alfie? He's got nothing to do with the races or any shipping company like you run. It wouldn't make sense for me to share all your plans with him."

Behind you, both Alfie and Finn were drawing lines across their necks with a hand. The universal symbol for "don't say a fucking thing, change the subject", but it may have already been too late. You had glanced behind yourself to see if Finn had liked your joke and noticed the cutting motions of the two men. Suddenly your eyes widened, and you started looking between Alfie and Tommy, and then Alfie and the rest of the Shelbys. It was like a light flipped in your head and internally, Alfie winced at what might occur. But once again you surprised all of them.

"Wait! Are y'all working together!!.... Oh y'all do know each other! Alfie why didn't you just stay that in the first place? I wouldn't have made you shake Finn's hand again. That's why you're here isn't it? Y'all have business together? Are ya partners?"

Alfie cleared his throat and prepared to tell you the inevitable. Sure, he knew he should tell you he was a semi retired gangster, but he was slightly worried when you learned, you wouldn't look at him the same way anymore. He was afraid you'd be a bit scared of him, and for all intents and purposes, Alfie didn't want his kid to be scared of him.

"Well, Shiny... yes we are working together. You see..."

"OHH I KNEW IT! Are you gonna start selling bread at the races? I think that would be a great idea!! Like alcohol is great, but it would be so nice to have a muffin or something too.... OH OH OH ... I know! Alfie you should sell your sugar rolls! Finn you have to try them they're so good....Alfie has this special apron he wears when making them."

Alfie groaned at the mention of the pink apron your mother had gotten him last holiday. You really were just revealing all his secrets weren't you? And he couldn't even wack you over the head like he'd do with anyone else.... Finn process your words and then stared grinning as big as you were. He loved it when you started to go off on a tangent. After all it was a brilliant idea too. Finn always got hungry during the races. He was always hungry in general, but the anticipation of what horse would win made him hungrier than usual.

"That is a good idea! I get hungry at those and they never have any snacks. Why don't we do that Tom?"

Tommy just furrowed his brows again, completely lost to what was going on. That was one thing he realised when he first met you. See Finn, when given the chance to speak, could jump from topic to topic within minutes and never seemed to go on a straight path. You did the exact same thing....but much much more. And while it was amusing to watch at times, it could get dizzying when you and your boyfriend went round and round in circles. And if they didn't stop it quick, this would be one of those times.... It was too early in the morning for that. So Tommy interrupted. 

"Yes! That's exactly what we're doing. That's why he's here. To make plans to sell bread at the races."

It was a lie of course, but even Tommy could respect Alfie's wish to tell you on his own time. Besides, it wasn't actually a bad idea. Alfie nodded his head in agreement like they hadn't planned on robbing a train last night. 

"Yep Shiny, you got us. I remembered you mentioning it once, and thought why not see if I could pitch the idea. Didn't know you'd be here though. Kinda ruins the surprise so just promise to act like you didn't know. Be as sightful as my half blind eye yeah?"

Laughing, your rolled your eyes at your stepfather's joke, before yawning into Finn's chest. The early morning hour was starting to get to you again. You really had only come to use the bathroom before noticing Alfie. Now you just wanted to get back in the warm bed for a bit longer.

"Deal, alright. I can keep my lips shut. But only if you also add the knot shaped chocolate pastries to the menu too! Those are my favourite."

Finn's stomach interrupted the conversation causing the both of you to laugh. Even the mention of food was enough to bring his appetite back. Turning to your boyfriend you hugged him again, revelling in the warmth you loved to burrow into. Standing on your toes, you reached up to whisper in his ear and he smiled softly before nodding back. You turned to the rest of the room and addressed Tommy.

"Welp this was nice, but can we go raid your pantry please? It's been at least seven hours since this one's eaten, so soon he'll start to shrivel up."

Good-naturedly, Tommy rolled his eyes, he knew it was Finn sneaking around the kitchen only three hours ago. He was the only one who closed up the bags of food he stole from by placing another bag over the messily folded edges when he couldn't get a knot tied in the dark again. Finn was also the only one who made peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, leaving the dirty knife and plate in the sink for the next morning.

"That's fine, you two can go off, Alfie and I here have to finish a few details for the deal."

Giving Alfie another quick hug, you and Finn headed off leaving the rest of the company in the main hall. His arm was around your shoulder and they could see you laughing at something Finn whispered in your ear. Alfie watched for a moment. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. At least you hadn't stated dating Sabini's nephew.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the top of the stairs Arthur leaned over to John.

"Does this mean we can't slash his tires anymore?"

".....Eh probably."

"Fuck, was looking forward to that."

#Finn Shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #finn shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #finn shelby #alfie Solomons imagine #alfie solomons #Alfie Solomons x reader

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Say it Dirty - An Alfie Solomons/Reader One Shot Story.

For my babes @cillmequick and @zablife. Enjoy!

Words - 1,467

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Alfie. One could never use the word tall to describe the gangster rum distiller of Camden town, but suffice to say, he is big. He takes up space. He has presence. Alfie is so wide in both physical width and the enormity of his personality, he fills whatever room he happens to be within.  

Everything about Alfie is imposing. That is why you fell for him in the first place. What gets your blood tingling with desire the most, though... 

“Next lad!”  

Oh, that enormous voice. He doesn’t shout often, but when he does, it sends your knees to jelly.  

“Next lad!” 

He’s handing out the weekly wages, the precise count out of pounds, shillings and pence into a small paper envelope, handing them to each of his employees for their, ahem, “baking” endeavours. The smell of the rum within the large casks fills your nose as you walk past them down in the dingy distillery, moving past the line and entering Alfie’s office.  

“Bear with me, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even need to look up from his desk to know you’ve arrived. He can smell the sweet notes of your perfume in a sea of rum and sweaty men a mile off. “Just gotta get these fellas paid, innit.”  

You perch on the edge of his desk, his hand moving to stroke your thigh fleetingly. “Next lad!” God, you’ll melt off the edge of the desk if you’re not careful. “Is there a fuckin’ reason you’re gorping, boy?”  

“Um, n-no, Mr. Solomons.”  

Alfie lowers his spectacles, raising his eyebrows. “You seriously comin’ in here for your pay, and giving me missus the once over with your beady little eyes while you’re here, eh? Nah, son. Off you fuck, while you still have them legs to carry ya. Just know, though. If I ever see you lookin’ at her like that again, yeah, it’ll be the last fuckin’ time you have eyes, mate.”  

The young man takes his wages with a stiff gulp. “S-s-sorry, Mr. Solomons.”  

“Ain’t me you was lookin’ at like a slab of meat.” He folds his arms, jerking his head in your direction, a smile spreading beneath his beard. “Apology should be directed at me wife, really.” 

“I apologise, Mrs. Solomons.” He’s steadier when talking to you, wringing his cap between his hands nervously all the same.  

Alfie studies you, watching you nod. “Alright, fuck off outta here. Next lad!” He scurries from the office, your husband continuing to hand out each wage envelope and mark it off with a pencil strike in the ledger. With the last lad paid, he stands, moving before you.  

“Now, how about I take my little turtle dove out for a bit of nosh, yeah?” Well, that’s the sole reason you came to meet him from work, after all. He goes for a quick wash and to change his shirt before you leave, yet when he returns, he finds you not quite as ready to leave as he is.  

The double take at seeing you sitting atop his desk naked is priceless, eyes touring your bare curves with much interest. “My darlin’, I dunno what kind of fuckin’ restaurant you think we’re going to, right, but it ain’t the kind where the customers sit about naked.”  

“Can’t help it,” you purr, pulling him close, hands smoothing over his fresh shirt. “See it’s when you raise your voice, Alfie, when you get defensive of me, too. It does things to me, that voice of yours.”  

He looks quietly thrilled at that. You don’t quite know how one can raise an eyebrow with cocky intent, but Alfie nails it every time. “Yeah, that right, love? You like the sound of my voice? Why don’t you sit on my cock while I talk to you, then?” 

Grasping his shirt, you pull him close. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, Alf.”  

Your lips meet in a slow tempest, all heat and honey, his hands beginning to glide where his eyes have already roamed, touring your bare flesh keenly. When his mouth follows, you whimper, each kiss sinking into your skin, the soft of his beard coaxing tickles over your flesh. Hot hands adorned in cool gold knead at your thighs, fingers slipping between.  

The sweet sting of him toying with your clit radiates, little pricks of pleasure trickling down your spine, puddling at those clever fingers, his teeth sharp at your neck. “Always did love my hands, didn’t ya, dove?”  

You hum in appreciative response against his tongue, mouths locked, those fingers you do indeed love so much thrusting within. He opens you, pushing greedily, his raspy chuckle low and self-satisfied at each little mewl that pours from your mouth like wine, your cunt clenching around each rotation as he roots those thick digits, so inordinately deep.  

“Fuck, get in the chair,” you pant, hands moving to slide his braces down, undoing his trousers. “I need to ride you. Now.” 

He chuckles, his thumb rolling over your clit sending sparks to skitter wildly. “Ain’t half a demanding little mare tonight, aint’cha?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, Alfie letting his trousers and undergarments fall to pool at his ankles, sitting down in the chair and guiding you astride him. “But then I always did know what’s good for me.” Taking him, you squeeze the thick of his rigidity, pushing him to your glistening opening and dropping down until you’re full.  

You can feel every inch of him pressing your soft walls, thick and heavy, his hand weaving into your hair and pulling until you arch for him, bending like a crescent moon. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, look at that body bow for me. Can’t wait to watch these pretty little tits bounce while you ride me, darlin’.”  

His mouth devours you, nipples sucked and bitten, his free hand grasping your hip as you begin to roll against him, his girth sending sensations to flutter up your spine, fizzing like champagne bubbles, the hint of teeth upon the peak of your nipple sending glimmers to join them. “Ain’t even half started properly yet, and this sweet little cunt is like a fuckin’ lake. Yeah, look at you. So fucking pretty for me, ain’t ya? So pretty and sweet, split open on me.”  

His words mist hot beneath your skin, rising like steam, the torrent of seductive filth unabating. “Think I could have you like this on me for hours, and I wouldn’t get tired of watching you gripping tight on my cock. And you would, wouldn’t ya? Yeah, you’d keep giving, my beautiful, cock hungry little doe.”  

His thumb stretches, and it sends a rain of pleasure pelting through you when he brings it to your clit, circling, your bundle twitching against the stroke, your toes gripping on the floorboards beneath as you begin to ride him with more determination. “That’s it, sweet. Show me how much you love this cock.”  

The moan seeps from your lips, sweet and slow, like thick syrup, the clasp of your cunt tight upon him, the sound of him punching into the very wet of you lewd, mixing with the slap of your arse smacking hard against his solid thighs. It’s a symphony of utter sin, his groans adding delicious baritone, your tits bouncing, his hands moving to clutch them as his tongue swipes your cleavage. ��

His touch has lightning forking from nerve to nerve, your ministrations greedy in desperate need to come around him, wet his cock further with the dew of your orgasm, your hands fisting tight in his hair, a shift of his hips sending him deeper into the flutter of your cunt.  

You sob his name, and he pushes even deeper, so heavy and overwhelming within you. “Come on, my beautiful little darlin’. Come pretty for me on this cock.”  

Oh, how you do, the pleasure burning neon through your nerves, a sky of colours painted over you as it topples you completely. The scream it pulls from you has him twitching, and he becomes caught in the tide of it, cock pressed filthily deep into the rhythmic clasping of you, spilling hard, everything tense undoing and softening to fluid bliss. You both swim in it, adrift on the endless ocean, panting against one another.  

“Fuck, that worked up a right appetite,” he finally breaths, kissing your neck as you roll your eyes. 

“Do you ever cease thinking about your stomach?” 

He chuckles, low and dirty. “Yeah. I often think about how good me wifey feels when she fucks me like she just did. And you can count on it, treacle, that I’ll be thinkin’ about it for the rest of the night an’ all.” 

The way he keeps stealing heated glances at you all the way through dinner, you’re left in little doubt of that, too.  

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

[ninja-potato-shelby-solomons]

#dirty minds worldwide

#tom hardy #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #peaky blinders fanfiction #eddie brock #tofie #tommy x alfie #tommy/alfie #tommyalfie #alfie solomons x tommy shelby #tommy shelby x alfie solomons #symbrock #symbrock fanfiction #tom hardy fanfiction #fanfiction smut #destiel fanfic