#Alfie Solomons x rose
Text
Endless love
(Modern) Tommy Shelby x reader
✨ I wrote this for @justrainandcoffee Alfieversary! My dearest Flor who knew fanfiction and Peaky Blinders would cross our paths! Thank you for always being so kind and generous-and talented!-, becoming mutuals here for a short time and somehow it feels as if we knew each other in person. Cheers to many, many more Alfieversaries!
Summary: Y/N is “forced” to leave her husband and baby for the weekend, so join Tommy to sort parenthood by himself for a couple of days. How will he deal with everything? Including a fussy baby.
Word count: 2.5K
A/N: we know I try to make moodboards right? 🤭
“Okay, erm so there’s milk storage enough.” Y/N mumbled, taking one more look around the bedroom. “Emma’s nappies are in the first drawer, keep her bunny close to-“
“Her face, I know.” Tommy produced a small chuckle, trying hard not to roll his eyes as he had already heard his wife’s instructions for almost a week. “Love, just leave that there, take a deep breath and have a margarita for me, we’ll be fine.”
Looking down at his six-month old he found her big beautiful eyes staring at him.
Y/N blinked nervously, this was the first trip away from Emma, it’s was a natural thing to be nervous.
“I can’t drink a margarita, remember?” She pointed at her breasts for a clearer message. Although she really wanted one.
This was actually her first real going out in a long time, somehow her life had been turned upside down full of baby trips to the doctor’s appointments, quick trips to get the groceries, restless nights of feedings. Thats why when Tommy insisted she should make the trip with Rose and the girls, she thought it would be a good idea to have a little time to herself.
But suddenly, her phone started ringing and loads of messages arrived simultaneously.
“Are you su-“
Tommy cut his wife’s words. “Yes, now go before Rose comes up to take you.”
Y/N gave Tommy a worried look, she couldn’t help it.
“Say goodbye to mama,” he waved Emma’s little hand. “Buh-bye mam!” He imitated a childish voice.
Y/N felt her heart clenching inside her chest when she kissed her daughter’s chubby cheeks.
“If you need anything just call and I’ll be back.” She rushed to say before kissing Tommy’s lips. Stepping out of their home, she blew them a kiss.
Tommy finally felt confident enough to release the air he had been holding. He was beyond nervous for not having his wife around whilst taking care of their baby, he was actually panicking to do anything wrong.
As Tommy closed the door he saw Emma’s lip quiver and a second later, she let out a big cry.
“Oh no, no darling don’t cry.” Tommy tried to soothe her. Small legs kicking with such force that made him think of a small tornado. “It’s alright, mama will be back in a couple of days…” he mumbled tried to get his daughter to settle.
His phone started buzzing in his pocket, he tried to rock Emma, but her cries became louder. Pressing the green button so fast that he didn’t look at the name on the screen.
“‘Lo?”
“Is Emma alright? I heard her crying.”
Tommy gasped. “Yes, of course, it’s the television… there’s a baby crying.” He lied.
He noticed Y/N’s hesitation so he rushed to assure her everything was fine and encouraged her to have a great time with her friends. Then, Tommy searched the channel with calm music Y/N used to rock Emma to sleep, in an attempt to settle his baby.
“How can a little thing like you cry so loud?” Tommy sighed defeated. He was one step from giving up. “I don’t know how your mama does it.”
He had tried everything, absolutely everything. And nothing seemed to work.
Was his baby sick? Hurting?
“What is it baby girl?” He wiped away the tears from her eyes, long lashes wet, chubby cheeks red from the intensity of her cries.
A sudden flashback appeared on his mind and with long strides, he walked into their bedroom hoping to find Emma’s bunny in its place. It had been a birth gift by Rose, and his daughter didn’t seem to like anything else.
“Look… here’s your bunny.” He tried tickling her cheeks. “And let’s take Mummy’s blanket alright?”
Tommy felt on the brick of desperation, was he really a useless father? One who couldn’t make his daughter stop crying?
His heart was aching.
Tommy wondered how would they survive for the entire weekend without Y/N. He started seriously doubting his parental skills in that moment.
Wrapping his baby in Y/N’s blanket seemed to bring some comfort for his baby. Groaning he covered his face with one of the thin cloths they used to go outside, it was small piece that only covered his features partially but then he heard a small giggle and a raspberry from Emma.
Startled, he removed the sheet from his face and looked down at what was making her giggle.
“You liked your silly daddy?” He asked mimicking a ridiculous voice.
He tried the trick once more.
And to his surprise, Emma giggled again, there was a bit of droll on her chin, big blue eyes sparkling just for him.
“You like Mr. Napkin?!” He asked in disbelief. “Yes you do!”
Getting up, he got a larger napkin from the kitchen and after covering his face again, but he added his glasses.
“Mr. Napkin needs help to see.” He repeated what it seemed like the best acting performance ever. “Oh! I see a beautiful happy little girl.” He turned to face his baby laying in one of his arms.
Emma laughed uncontrollably and kicked her legs happily.
“You know what? Mr. Napkin needs a smoke.” He announced, producing a cigarette from its case. But once he added it to his performance, he noticed a small pout. “Oh no, no… that’s a bad habit, don’t do it.”
Once he got his little girl to settle again, he sighed relieved when he saw the big yawn she offered.
“Mr. Napkin would like a nap too.”
But before he could close his eyes, his phone started ringing and the sound woke his daughter up.
“Shit. Alfie what do you want?”
“Just making sure you’re in one piece still… heard the Misus are having the time of their lives.” Alfie announced.
“I know you’re miserable when Rose is away, but I’m busy here mate.”
“That’s exactly why I was calling, to offer some child support.”
Tommy snorted. “Alfie the last thing I want is you taking care of my daughter.”
Alfie didn’t took that personally, he knew as a matter of fact that he had the opposite effect in Tommy’s daughter. “When will you finally admit your daughter likes me?”
“She likes pulling at you beard and your dog.”
“Look we both know you’re going to make the girls come back earlier from their trip and the least thing I need is having Rosie mad at me at your fault, so meet me and Cyril at the beach.”
“That sounds like an awful idea.”
“See ya.”
The actual plan worked like wonders, Emma was thrilled to spend time with Cyril, because being honest, he got all protective over Emma, and despite his size he acted like a cotton ball, bringing her sticks. But Tommy wasn’t going to admit that out loud.
Of course Alfie teased him endlessly for acting over protective towards the baby just because he made sure his daughter wouldn’t suffer damage from the sun. Or any kind of damage for that matter.
“What are cha gonna do when your little pumpkin starts messing around with boys and-“
Tommy gave him a death stare.
“Wha? You can’t keep her locked mate…” Alfie pointed out as the girl grabbed some sand in her small fist.
“That’s not going to happen.” Tommy answered with a clenched jaw.
Just the mere thought of it, made his insides twist.
And to Alfie, to have the chance to tease Tommy it was like the cherry on top, it was something he wasn’t going to let it pass.
By the time they went back to their apartment, Emma was sound asleep in the back seat.
After changing his baby girl into a pajama set, Tommy walked around the place to set the alarm and taking the remote, he turned off the lights.
To his surprise, he got a message from his wife.
Missing you both like crazy! xx
We missed you too, Emma was thrilled to take a little trip to the beach xx - he replied.
Almost immediately, his phone started ringing and the photo of his wife holding their baby appeared on the screen.
“I know I said I wasn’t going to disturb you, but…” her sweet voice made him smile.
“‘S alright, I was just getting ready to sleep.”
“But it’s still early.” Y/N pointed out turning around to look the hour.
“I am exhausted.” He dragged the words.
Turning the call into video, Y/N noticed the bags under his eyes. The dim light cascading over his cheekbones.
“Looks like someone’s having the time of her life.” He complimented.
“We had a massage and I ordered a virgin cocktail.”
Tommy shook his head. “No booze? What’s the fun in that?”
“Stop temping me.” Y/N pouted. “I’ll let you’ve some rest, tomorrow it’s going to be a long day.”
Tommy yawned and wished his wife a good night.
****
A babbling sound make him open his eyes asTommy tried to fix his blurred vision.
Groaning, he got up. “Morning, sunshine.” He kissed the top of her head as he pulled her against his chest and went back to bed.
Instinctively, Emma started nibbling his nipple.
“Oh sweetie, you won’t find anything there.” Tommy explained with a chuckle.
But Emma wasn’t in the mood and a round of loud cries started right away.
“I get it, the milk provider is moving right away, give me a sec.” He got up and carried his baby towards the kitchen, to prepare the bottle for her. A few minutes later, Emma was sucking happily.
“Such a drama queen eh?” He stared at her soft features. Wondering what life had in store for her. “What do you wanna do today? We can go to the park, or the pub bet your uncles would love to see you.” He proposed as his baby was focused on her milk. That way he could get some help because everyone in his family adored his daughter.
Despite his wealth, Y/N refused hiring a nanny. She was adamant to be in charge of everything related to their daughter. And being completely honest with himself, he was grateful for being able to spend quality time with his first born, Y/N deserved all the credit for that, she helped him feel comfortable by giving his daughter a warm bath and helping as much as he could, being a present father.
She had already threatened him to include a hairstyle masterclass so he could learn to do braids and pigtails.
After a quick bath for him and another one for his daughter. He felt proud of managing to put an asthetic outfit for Emma, he actually went safe with clear colors God forbid that one time he changed her into a set that didn’t match, Y/N scolded and teased him endlessly. As Tommy was looking in one of the drawers for a clean sheet so he could place his baby on the floor, he found a small box where Y/N kept a bunch of things she said that were useless but you might need some day. The thought made him chuckle, but a sharp movement opened the lid and its content fell to the floor.
That’s when he saw something that caught his attention.
A playful smile spread on his lips and he rushed to the living room to set everything.
It took him a while to carry on with his idea, but once he was finished, he stood there proudly to admire his creation, the smile on his daughter’s face told him he did a good job. Oh, the things he’d do for that little Miss Sunshine. She had him wrapped around her little finger.
Snapping a photo, he pressed a few buttons to send it to his wife.
“What is that?!” Y/N asked raising her voice, excitement was evident.
Tommy’s chest expanded proudly as he looked at his mini-me in awe. “She’s being giggling nonstop.”
“This is the best idea ever!” Y/N sounded surprised, so he was still able to be one step ahead.
“Cheapest trick to keep her busy.” Tommy added, sending the photo to the Shelby’s chat group.
“I can’t wait to go back home.” He knew being away wasn’t easy for her, specially because she was so attached to Emma.
“The day will fly by and you’ll be back before you know it.” He tried to cheer her up. His eyes darting back to his daughter, still amazed by the balloons.
“Look at you, I leave you for a couple of days and you win the award parent of the year.”
“That’s what you get for abandoning us.” He joked.
“Hey!” Tommy heard Rose’s voice in the background. “Only emergencies! Is Tommy missing an arm?” He heard some weird noise and then she spoke clearly. “I hope you’re taking good care of Emma.”
“Of course.” He wasn’t sure if he should be more scared of his wife or Rose.
“Good, then were stealing your wife for another day and we’re already planning the next trip.” She warned, and this time around, it was Y/N turn in the background saying that she didn’t want to be away from her daughter again.
“Have a fabulous day, I gotta change a stinky nappy.”
Ending the call, he decided to order some food, the last thing on his mind at the moment was to prepare something. At least he got a great deal by keeping his daughter busy with the balloons and that granted him a few minutes to stand outside in the balcony to smoke a cigarette while keeping an eye on his baby.
And the rest of his day went just like that between naps, babbling and the little sounds his daughter made. Later he’d pick a book to read to her.
****
Sunday finally arrived and after driving for a couple of hours, the girls left her by the apartment lobby first, so she made the trip to her floor quietly and since she didn’t tell Tommy what time they were coming back, she took the chance to surprise him.
He didn’t know, but she had been watching him in the baby monitor app on her phone. As a matter of fact her heart felt full last night when she realized her baby wouldn’t settle and after a couple of minutes, she saw Tommy getting up from the bed and climbing the crib -big enough to fit him-, to sleep with his baby.
She knew he was the best father their daughter could have.
And another proof was that moment while he was feeding Emma and he started singing a Romani song and ever so gently he explained their baby he came from gypsies and she too, had gypsy blood running in her veins. Y/N wanted to bottle the two of them along with those moments that made her confirm her deep love for that man.
But Y/N was the surprised one when she stepped into her apartment and found Tommy sleeping on the couch with Emma lying on his chest fast asleep, his arm wrapped around her back protectively. Her small hand closed in a tight fist over her bunny’s ear.
The image was instantly tattooed in her heart as a lifetime memory.
And she knew, her heart was full and that this was an endless love.
Master list
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, remember your feedback is always the way to a writer’s heart ♥️✨
Oh! I almost forgot.. Mr Napkin inspiration 👇🏻👇🏻
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#That’s what Cill said#tommy shelby x reader#modern tommy shelby imagine#modern tommy shelby#tommy shelby x y/n#thomas shelby imagine#peaky blinders imagine#modern peaky blinders#modern alfie solomons#Alfie Solomons x rose
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Deal (Tommy Shelby vs. oc!Solomons) + (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 1
“You're a lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf.”
Masterlist
Summary: Why is Thomas Shelby in front of Mrs. Solomons? Just business. Tommy just needs information. But first he needs to deal with Rose Solomons who, unlike her husband, has no sympathy for the man sitting in her office. And yet, they know how to make a deal. "A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby."
Warnings: Mentions of dead, killing. Allusions to sex. Mentions of physical violence. Misogyny.
Words: 4.5k. || Special thanks to @look-at-the-soul who helped me today 🙃♥️.
1924.
Yesterday
"The bastard is a fookin' ghost!" yelled Arthur.
The Garrison was empty except for those members of the Peaky Blinders, allowed to be there. There was a person that they couldn't find. An Irishman called Nicholas Baker, possible member of the IRA. Last time they saw him, it was he when he shot a blinder and left him to die in the streets. He escaped before Arthur or anyone else could catch him.
Since then, the brothers and the rest of the gang were looking for him no succeed. Not just because he killed a man they know, but also because they were sure he was a spy.
"Maybe he's dead," suggested Isaiah.
"No. He's alive and living in London." This time, Tommy Shelby's voice could be heard all over the place. "And Elias is not the only person he killed. And his real name is Sean Patrick O'Finn."
Tommy dropped a newspaper in front of his brother and Arthur read it out loud.
"His own sister! He fookin' killed his sister!"
"And tried to killed his wife as well, according to the neighbours. She escaped." Tommy sat in his usual place as he lit up a cigarette and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He looked at Arthur and the rest of his men.
"We have nothing, then! He can be in middle of fookin' Russia by now." Arthur was frustrated as usual.
"I don't think so. I think he's still there in London, and as we know, police is useless. London is a big city and they don't care. People are killed every day" Tommy lit another cigarette "but I'm going to find him. And I'm going to put a bullet in his head, too."
"You don't know where to start, Tommy!" Arthur furrowed brow and look at his brother.
"Yes, I do know where to start. I need to talk to his wife."
"But do you know where this woman is, Tom?"
"Yes."
.
The Solomons residence in London was quiet. Rose was working and Alfie just arrived there over an hour ago. He was about to rest his back in bed when their maid announced that he had a call.
"It's Mr. Shelby," the woman said. She saw him do a grimace, but he said nothing to her.
"Thanks, Doris."
Alfie entered his office and closed the door behind before picking up the phone. Every time Tommy called it meant problems, usually for him. But this time what Tommy said, took him by surprise.
"Are ya mad?"
"I just need her this time, Alfie."
"She will kill ya, mate."
"No, she won't. Your wife isn't a killer."
"Maybe. But the women around her are. Honestly, Tom, they're a pack of fuckin' bloody wolves claiming for men flesh. You're a little lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf. Rosie is the leader of that pack, if she gives the order next time I'll see ya it'll be in your own fuckin' funeral... If I find your body." On the other side of the line, Tommy opened a drawer and picked up some papers and started to take some notes. Sometimes Alfie exaggerated, especially if he was talking about his wife. As far as Tommy knew, Rose Solomons just worked helping women in need and in the streets fighting for equal rights. The few times he saw her in Alfie's place she didn't seem to be a menace to anyone.
"They're just women, eh?"
"My Rosie isn't just a woman, Tommy. She's me wife." Alfie sighed "Rosie will decorate the fuckin' Christmas tree they put on her workplace with your balls."
"I'll take a risk, then. Just wanted to inform you."
"Fine. But I'm not going to tell her yet. I prefer she knows it on her own… good luck then, Tom."
1924.
Today. London.
It's only 7am and the Solomons were making love for the second time in the morning. Rose didn't know what her husband was thinking, or feeling, that he had waking up so passionated but she wasn't complaining either.
"Alfie… I can't… god…" her back arched and her toes curled once last time until she fell on the mattress, completely satisfied. She could feel Alfie finish as well.
The man stayed on top of her few minutes more, catching his breath, before rolling on his back, laying next to her. Alfie opened his arms and invited her to be against his chest.
"Are you fine?" she asked kissing his neck.
"Feelin' like a God now, luv. Why do ya ask? You're talking like we never fuck like this before."
"I ask, because I know that sometimes you use sex to channel your frustrations and I just want to know you're fine."
"I'm perfect, Rosie. Gimme some time and we can repeat it."
She laughed. "No way you still have energy, Al. I can't, I've to work. Tonight, maybe."
In response, Alfie kissed her. That same night, probably she wants to kill him. He had talked to Tommy the day before and she didn't know. Alfie was just trying his best to calm her before the storm. Although spending time with her, it was always beautiful. The kiss continued until she pulled apart slowly. He caressed her cheek. Rose knew that Alfie definitely was hiding something from her, but she didn't know what. After one last brief kiss, she sat down in bed and then walked to the bathroom to take a shower.
Alfie stayed in bed, thinking about his friend going to his wife's place. In all those years, over a decade since it was founded, he visited her school just twice. Once when it was inaugurated, when they met each other again, and the other one after the war. They had an implicit deal: "You don't interfere with my business and I don't interfere with yours" even if they asked each other for some advice, suggestions or help. He was a bit worried about her, even when he knew that Tommy wasn't going to hurt her.
When Rose went out the bathroom, she found him sitting in bed, stretching his back, ready to have breakfast. She approached him and played gently with his hair.
"Thought you're going to join the shower."
Alfie put his hands on her hips and pushed her down on his knees. She was wrapped with a towel and when Alfie kissed her shoulder, he smelled the fresh soap on her skin.
"Ya didn't invited me."
"Since when you need invitation?" she chuckled and put her arms around him. Her hands were stroking the back of his neck. Rose was staring at him, "are you sure you're fine?"
"I am, Rosie."
"Okay," she didn't believe him, but she wasn't going to pressure him either. Instead, she kissed him and he reciprocate immediately. Her towel fell on the floor and she felt him ready to be with her once more.
Never two without three.
.
Arrow house
By the dawn of the next day, every Shelby knew where the leader was going. If they had any opinion about it, they didn't share it. A car was parked outside Arrow House with three men in it.
"I'm going now," announced Tommy. His black coat was over a chair and he took it. "Johnny Dogs and the Smiths are coming with me."
Arthur chuckled. "Johnny Dogs? And the Smith brothers? Ain't too much, Tom? Four men to visit just a bunch of pussies and tits? They're just chicks."
"Not according to Alfie."
"According to fookin' Alfie! The fookin' Alfie! Ya believe him?"
"Yes. Alfie will never allow me to be near his wife, if he didn't know now that she's safe. I know that. And if she's safe that means she's surrounded by an army."
"Are ya planning to kill them?"
"I don't kill women, Arthur. And I don't want problems with Alfie. It's just in case."
"So take me with ya!"
"Arthur, no offense but you don't know how to deal with a Solomons. Stay here and take care of the business, eh? I'll be back at night, probably or tomorrow."
"Tom! Tommy!" the eldest brother yelled but the other man already reached the door.
"Goodbye, Arthur. Tell Pol, that I left her a letter under the flowerpot."
.
Pebblebrock was Rose Solomons' former manor and prison hell at the same time. Now it was a beautiful school for girls and at the same time it served as a roof for some women who had run from their abusive homes.
As the owner, she was the one in charge even when she had several women in which she trusted working with her side by side. But the final decision on everything was always hers.
Alfie, and Tommy too, were right. The place and Rose, were surrounded by women specifically trained to kill. It wasn't uncommon for men to try to reach those who they already hurt. The rules were crystal clear MEN ARE NOT ALLOWED IN PEBBLEBROCK. The ones who didn't understand the warning were now resting eternally in a cemetery.
Men were only allowed if they were doctors or priests. The institution had nurses and two nuns who volunteered to help there. But sometimes a doctor was required, same with priests. Any other men should call for an appointment, only under that circumstances their entrance were allowed.
.
"Look at this fucking place."
From the road, Tommy, Johnny Dogs and the Smith brothers were watching the entire property. The gardens extended beyond their sight.
"Full of pussies, it's my fucking paradise. An all-you-can-eat-fucking restaurant" commented Gregory Smith. Except Tommy, the rest of them laughed.
.
Rose heard the crows. That was never a good signal.
"Now who?" she thought for herself. A lot of names crossed her mind, but none of them was the right answer.
Five minutes later a knock on her office's door brought the answer.
"Who?" she asked not believing her ears.
"Mr. Thomas Shelby, Mrs. Solomons" repeated the woman in front of her. "He says he needs you."
"The Thomas Shelby?"
But unaware of who he was the other woman didn't respond.
"Yeah, well. Tell him I'm coming."
"There are three other men with him, Mrs. Solomons."
Of course.
The day was beautiful. Cloudless sky and almost no wind. It'd be perfect if not for Tommy Shelby in her property.
"Didn't you read the sign?" she said greeting them "men are not allowed here."
"Good morning, Mrs. Solomons," said Tommy with deep voice.
"It is, Tommy. It is."
It always was intrigued him that a man like Alfie could be so devoted to a woman who barely reached his shoulders. His Rosie. Alfie Solomons could start a war against the king and the Pope if something happened to that woman.
Gregory Smith had another idea.
"We don't follow rules, sweetheart. We're the peaky fucking blinders."
"The Peaky who?" Rose looked at the man "Who the fuck are you?"
"The audacity of this bitch. It's a Solomons, eh?"
"Gregory…" warned Tommy.
"Yeah. I'm a Solomons. Proud of it. But I'm quite dumb, Gregory. So I need your help, I only know how to count to two. Like, one, two… what's next?"
"Three."
BANG.
A woman stading behind Rose was holding a gun.
The bullet impacted his head. The man was already dead when his body collapsed on the ground. Rose just looked her pocket watch and then clicked her tongue.
"Men are not allowed here," she repeated. "You understand the warnings now or you what to be the next?"
Tommy looked at the dead body. The blonde woman behind Rose was staring at him and Tommy knew that she wasn't joking. One more step and it couldn't be any difference between a Gruyère cheese and him.
Tommy sent Johnny Dogs and the remaining man again to the car. He also gave his gun to his friend.
"Ya sure, Tom?"
"Just go, Johnny."
When Tommy turned around again, he saw the woman extending her arm, she moved her hand "gimme the fucking cap."
Again, Tommy did what she said. She gestured him to follow her.
The interior of her office was elegantly decorated. An expensive rug on the floor matched the wallpaper and the mahogany desk. Lots of books were perfectly ordered on the bookshelves. Rose Solomons invited him to take seat on one of her velvety armchairs. Tommy followed her with his eyes. Now his cap was over the head of a marble bust representing Aphrodite, just behind her, looking at him. The woman sat behind her desk and put her hands under her chin.
"We have a beautiful garden here. A greenhouse full of exotic flowers and plants. Was your man married? I'd like to send the widow some flowers."
"He wasn't."
"Better, then."
Her brown eyes never leave his blue ones and same as Alfie, he felt she was trying to anticipate his movements. But Tommy didn't express any emotion.
"So? What the hell is doing Thomas Michael Shelby here? My husband isn't here."
"Not looking for Alfie."
"That's fucking new considering the mutual obsession you have with each other."
Tommy curved his lips, barely smiling. "I'm here purely for business, Mrs. Solomons."
"I'm not the kind of person you do business with."
"You are."
Both of them remained in silence for several seconds. Probably she was unaware of it, but Tommy noticed some mannerisms in her that he had witnessed in Alfie before. She was thinking while playing with her fingers. Impossible to say who copied who.
"What kind of business? Illegality has no place here," she finally said.
"I need to know where a certain man is."
Before she could say something Tommy saw the door opening and a beautiful woman in her mid-forties, entered Mrs. Solomons' office. She greeted him with a movement of her head and then started to talk to Rose in French but she stopped her almost immediately.
"This isn't going to work now, Geraldine. The man knows french," she said pointing to him "same as Alfie he fought in France during years. Tell Edith to come. She speaks Hebrew."
Geraldine nodded before leaving again.
"You do that often? Speaking other language in front of strangers?" Tommy settled in the armchair.
"Don't you do the same? I'm sure that speaking Romani is very useful if you want to express something to a friend or relative but you don't want the other to know what are you saying. Don't judge me, Mr. Shelby."
Edith, Tommy asummed it was her, was barely in her 20s, probably she was still a teen. Young and with a cheerful face, the girl approached Mrs. Solomons and both of them started to talk in Hebrew, a language he couldn't understand. For a moment, Rose looked at him sideways.
"Thanks, Edith" she said and the girl left without looking at Tommy. "One of your men tried to sneak in my school. Or they're fucking dumbs or they're really ready to visit God."
"Fucking hell…" Tommy rolled his eyes before breathing deeply. He was sure it wasn't Johnny Dogs but the other Smith. "Listen, Mrs. Solomons, I didn't give the order. I didn't know."
"I know, he acted by his own. Good news is he's alive. Bad news is my girls are taking care of him. It depends on you what I'm going to do with him. Alfie knew you were coming, didn't he?"
"I called him yesterday."
Rose sighed "Yes, of course he knew. Of course he fucking knew," his actions that morning now it made sense to her. Not because it wasn't unsual for them to have sex in the morning, but because there was something in his eyes that his mouth wasn't saying. And after all those years together, Rose knew him very well. "Anyway… what do you want do with your man, Mr. Shelby?"
"Can I smoke?"
"If you go next to the window and put your hand with the cigarette out, I don't have any problem. But I don't want smoke here."
She saw how he stood up and walked towards the window. That one in particular faced one of the gardens where the rosebushes were. In spring and summer, the sweet smell of roses invaded her office and it was something that she really liked.
When that morning Arthur asked him why he took three men with him just to visiting a school and women's residence, Tommy was exploring his chances. Better Gregory Smith than him. He trusted Johnny Dogs, he was a loyal, obedient man. But the Smiths…
"Kill him if you want," Tommy finally said "if my man can't follow my orders, then he should face the consequences. This is your place after all, Mrs. Solomons."
"Edith told me he was screaming that he wanted to avenge his brother."
"Yes. The one you kill it was his brother." Tommy glanced at her. A ghost of a smile was on his face.
"I never killed anyone, Mr. Shelby."
"You don't need to hold a gun and shoot to be a murderer. Most of the murderers just give the order behind their desks."
"Well, he'd be alive if he hadn't been an asshole. It's all about the rules, Mr. Shelby. The sign is there for a reason and if you ask me, you don't seem very concerned about your man's death."
"Rules, eh? Something tells me you're not very fond to follow them, either, Mrs. Solomons. How was the prison?" Tommy blew another puff of smoke out the window, but kept looking at her.
"Pretty cold. Full of cooties and rats. I named one in your honour, that's a tradition that we the Solomons have. Name a goat, name a rat… How's Arfah, by the way? Alfie misses him."
"Thanks for the honour, Mrs. Solomons. Arthur wanted to come. I told him he doesn't know how to deal with a Solomons."
"Oh," she grinned. "And you do?"
"I'm pretty confident about it. It worked in the past."
"I have no doubts about it. But I'm not my husband, Mr. Shelby. I don't fall for a pair of blue eyes and a chiseled face and most of all, I don't trust men."
Tommy threw the remaining of his cigarette in a basket that was there and walked again to the seat in front of her. He crossed his legs and rested his hands over his stomach.
"Do you want to fuck me, Mrs. Solomons?"
"Yes. Just bring me a bottle of cyanide to accompany the moment. And then I want to hug a black mamba. Your place or mine?"
Tommy chuckled. "Wherever you prefer, sweetheart."
Far away from being intimidated by the confidence he was exuding, Rose just scratched her chin.
"Alfie accepted? I mean, if this is the way you deal with a Solomons..."
"Never asked."
"Oh, you should have. The answer maybe could suprise you. But, let me tell you something, Tommy. Can I call you Tommy?" he nodded. Rose left her armchair and approached the man. He followed her with his eyes. Her face was now in front of his, their noses were touching. Both pair of eyes were staring at each other. Tommy felt her breath on his skin "I know who you are, Tommy. Reputation precedes you. I know how you do business with women. But here's the thing: I'm not them. And yes, I'm a Solomons, yes Alfie and I we have lot of similarities. But I'm not Alfie. I'm not interesting in you as a man and if your cock is the only thing you have to offer me, you're wasting your time here… sweetheart." Rose inhaled deeply "God! I never killed anyone, but I swear the devil keep tempting me. How about having your head as a trophy hunting hanging on this office? But…" Rose moved her head back again "as I said, I'm not a murderer."
"Alfie is a lucky man, Mrs. Solomons," Tommy said once she returned to her seat behind the desk.
"Is he?" She tilted her head.
"Believe me." Tommy straighted on his armchair "and I'm sure If something happens to him, I'm sure you're going to heard the devil that keeps telling you to kill someone."
"Be sure of that. If anything happens to my Alfie, the only one who can stop me is Alfie himself. I hope nothing happens to him, EVER. You know about it, don't you?. Your late wife, we knew what happened. I can't imagine the pain."
"No, you can't imagine. But I'm getting over it." Tommy cleared his throat "Mrs. Solomons, I need information."
"In exchange of…"
"Mutual respect."
Rose snorted. "Yes, sure. Alfie could be delighted when I tell him. Information means business, Mr. Shelby. And whiskey is for business, innit?"
She opened a cabinet in her desk and put a bottle of whiskey with the Solomons logo on it. Behind her, were two glasses that she grabbed. A rose was engraved on them.
"I didn't know you drink," he said.
"Only in very few occasions. I prefer just tea for the rest of the day. So? You tell me."
Tommy drank a sip of whiskey before talking again. In his mind the image of Elias dead on the streets of Small Heath appeared again. Contrary to Gregory Smith, Elias was a good man. Her widow was pregnant and a payroll wasn't enough for the woman to compensate her for her husband's death. Yet, it was the only thing that Tommy could do.
"I'm looking for Mrs. Baker."
"There are several, Tommy. It's a very common name. Any details?
"It's an Irishwoman. I don't know her appearance but her husband killed her sister-in-law. It means his own sister."
"Sonia," mumbled her, "but the last name isn't Baker. It's O'Finn. Although she said that prefers her own surname. I'm going to keep that information to me until you tell me what the hell is going on."
From the murdered committed in Birmingham to the one in London's underground. Tommy told her about his suspicions that O'Finn was a member of the IRA and how he, Tommy, was now a target of them. Again.
"If that's true," she replied "then no matter what, your head already had a price and it's not going to be me the one hanging it on my office, but them. Nowadays it's very easy to send a message to the other side of the map. A telegram or a phone call… I don't understand why do you want to talk to this woman if he already communicated with his people."
"Because I don't think he did that. He's hiding. He's a fucking rat."
"Ok. Well, there's a lot of problems first. Mrs. O'Finn, she's not in conditions to talk. Even if she can, you're not allowed to be near her and this is not negotiable. These women are under my wing. Not you, not fucking Churchill can be near them. I don't give a fuck if you bring an order from the fucking president of I-don't-know-where. Understood? I have women specialized in talk to women with the kind of trauma that Sonia has, so, think about twice before suggesting another way to do this."
"The less people know about it, the better, Rose."
She pointed to the door, silently. Tommy sighed. "Fine. But I prefer that you can be present. And me too. Or at least I want to hear everything by myself."
"Agree. We have a place we can use. I need to tell you, or better say, reminder you that Sonia is highly traumatized. Yes, she's alive but the price she paid…" Rose stood up again but this time she walked to one of her bookshelves and picked up a carpet, although to do it she had to climb a ladder. "Tommy, I don't have this rule of "men aren't allowed" just because I'm fucking misandristic bitch, I'm not. I believe in equal rights. I fight for equality. I have that sign because people here, women, kids… are afraid of your kind. I have a register for every single woman that lived here since 1911 when I inaugurated this place. Open the folder."
Tommy obeyed and his first reaction was exactly what Rose hoped to get "Shit…"
The first page was the document of a woman who lived there in 1914 before volunteering as nurse in France, Rose never saw her again. Her name was Rita Brown, 20 years old. She escaped from her house because her father was an abuser. He ended up cutting her face marking a cross on her.
"I don't allow men, because we don't know what kind of bastard will cross that gate. Your man, that Gregory, he's not the first. Dozens before him, I'm genuinely surprised that if you talked to Alfie yesterday he didn't mention my women."
"He did."
"So you knew."
Tommy nodded and Rose studying his face laughed . Suddenly she understood. "You bring this bastard on purpose! You fucking did! You wanted him dead. Fucking hell, Tommy. I heard things a lot of things about you and I'm still impressed. The brother, too? You wanted me to rid off the other guy, too?"
"Why not?"
"Fine. I don't give a shit. One less." She returned to her seat and rang a bell. The same young girl called Edith appeared. Both of them talked in Hebrew again and Edith went out again once they finished. "We have an agreement, it seems. Now my payment."
Tommy opened his coat and placed two payrolls on her desk.
"I appreciate the effort," she said no looking at the money. "But I'm not interested it in cash, although if you don't want it. I can use it to buy something for the school like a new piano for the girls and some violins. A donation."
"I don't want it," he confirmed "then what's your price, Mrs. Solomons?"
"A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby. I want a man dead."
"Who?"
"Churchill's right hand man."
Next part.
...so? 👀
#alfie solomons#tommy shelby#alfie solomons x oc#alfie solomons x ofc#peaky blinders#tom hardy#peaky blinders x oc#alfie x rose#Thomas Shelby#cillian Murphy
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Under the Willow Tree ||Alfie Solomons x OC (letters)
Summary: While he was roaming through paper works in his office, Alfie Solomons finds an unopened letter by chance. A letter written by his wife when he was fighting for his life at the hospital after his violent encounter with Thomas Shelby. Alfie still decides to write a reply... Unfortunately, he loses it before he can hand it to his Mrs. Solomons.
Notes: Letters exchange written for @raincoffeeandfandoms' event "The Peaky Receives Letters". The first letter was written by Flor (@raincoffeeandfandoms) herself, and Alfie's answer is mine. Hope I did a good job at portraying your sweet Alfie!
My dearest love, Alfie.
It's been two whole days since Thomas shot you. You're lying here in bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses who don't know if you'll recover or not. I haven't slept in 48 hours and I don't know if I will be able to again, not while you are there.
I write this letter in the hope that I will be able to tell you all this in person when you wake up. I have spoken to you as you lie there, but I can't tell if you can hear me or not. And the anguish inside me, it needs to come out. I've told myself that I have to be strong that I have to be fighting by your side, like we always did, but I don't always have the strength. And I'm so tired.
I decided, instead, to remember nice moments we spent together. There's a memory I have of us when we were 17, maybe you've already forgotten about it. You were already in charge of the bakery where you started working at 14 and you were starting to get interested in having your own "bakery". You always called the business you really wanted to get involved in that way, I guess it was easier to call it that, than calling it an illegal distillery. I always thought it was funny, even today.
We had gone on a picnic day in the middle of spring. We had brought apples and several of those little cakes you used to bake. We had planned everything and the day couldn't have been more perfect. I remember the sun was shining and I remember the tree we sat under. It was a willow tree whose branches touched the stream in front of which we were sitting.
I think the day was beautiful, at least is how I remember it. There were even ducks that we also fed. We hadn't been able to have a date like that in a long time because we were both working and really needed some time alone. Do you remember? We could barely see each other in the evenings. And sometimes not even that.
At first, it was beautiful. The food and you was all I wanted. But the things started to go wrong when we got distracted and the ants decided they wanted your pies, too. You were so angry with them! But we couldn't do nothing because, of course, they outnumbered us. So we moved from there, because it was a war we couldn't win. There was another tree, so we went under that one. But it happened that we never saw the beehive. The bees were not happy with us. The way we run! We abandoned the basket and the remaining food there. Probably the ducks ate the rest. Our date next to the stream was terrible. I remember you were mad, because you couldn't give me the perfect date you wanted. But to me, it was perfect. I laughed a lot after that.
We have shared so many things like this, Al, and I know we have to keep making memories because we can't end up like this. I can't let the one person I loved my whole life, my first kiss, my first love, to die because of a bullet from Thomas Shelby. I know you'll survive.
I'll leave the letter in a drawer, hoping I'll never have to write another one like this one.
I hear voices, what's happening? They're coming from the room where you are. It sounds like your voice. Is it possible? Or is the lack of sleep making me hallucinate? I'll go and see. My heart is beating so fast…
Yours, always.
Rosie.
Ahuvi sheli,
As I was looking for some tedious paperwork, I found your letter by chance, hidden under the mess on my desk. I know this terrible event is far behind us now and that you are peacefully sleeping on the couch, snuggling against Cyril by the fire. Still, I can’t resolve myself to let this heartbreaking letter without any answer. You’ve opened your heart by writing this, so let me ink mine on the back of this same paper.
When I was laying in a pit of darkness, trapped in the flesh prison of my own body, I felt Death’s presence creeping in the shadow, waiting for me to stop fighting so that It could take me away from you. Fear paralyzing me, fatigue eating up my remaining strength, I was convinced I would die here without being able to kiss your honey lips goodbye… My heart ached at this sole thought. But then, I heard your wonderful and enchanting voice talking to me in this dull hospital room, and suddenly the thick darkness was not there anymore. I felt the sweet caress of sun rays warming up my skin and I smelled the intoxicating fragrances of your floral perfume — the last one I gifted you for our anniversary. And there I was, near the mighty willow tree we would sit by when we were 17. Even though I was alone, I could still hear you talking to me from a faraway distance. Each word, each sigh, each sob… I held onto them, finding strength in your love until I could finally reopen my eyes.
You always compliment how tough I am — both physically and mentally. Whether I am carrying huge bags of flour or handling the Shelby and Sabini’s situations. I usually answer that the strongest of us was you. After all, you were the one who kept fighting after the awful years these Evert bastards had made you undergo. I would gladly tell you that I would piss on Lawrence’s grave but since it is a letter I guess I should remain polite. Yet, despite how strong you are, I am deeply sorry for worrying you and involuntarily making you suffer after that cunt Tommy Shelby shot my fucking face. Living with the fact I caused your tears to run down your sweet face will be the bane of my existence, but I promise to make amend for all the sorrow I caused you.
Rosie, my beloved flower, what is the willow tree without your elegant frame? What are the birds’ whistles without the symphony of your adorable laugh? What is Alfie Solomons without Rose? Fucking nothing. And since I’ve risen back from the dead to pull you in my arms, let me write down our latest wonderful moment that happened yesterday: You were in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the tip of your pen trapped between your gorgeous lips. The more you flipped the pages, the more you were getting angry because you could not decipher my admittedly awful handwriting. I tried to make you laugh but you were not in the mood, and at some point, you thought I was so annoying that you threw a bit of flour at me without being aware of the consequences… We looked at each other silently for a few seconds, and then the same thought crossed our minds. We rushed to the nearest bag of flour and proceeded to turn our kitchen into a battlefield of white powder. You laughed! Oh, you laughed so much that diamond tears ran down your pinkish cheeks.
You laughed, my little Rose, and I fell in love with you again for the hundredth time.
Don’t fear the voices you might hear, they are just the murmurs of my soul whispering to yours how much I love you. Also, Fuck Tommy and his little bitchass bullets — this prick can’t even aim— for nothing will take me away from you.
Forever yours, mind, body, and soul,
Alfie.
Tag list:
@runnning-outof-time
@shelbydelrey
@there-goes-thefighter
@cljordan-imperium
@dandelionprints
@zablife
@raincoffeeandfandoms
@look-at-the-soul
#alfie solomons#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#alfie solomons x oc#Rose solomons#the peaky receives a letter#peaky blinders x oc#Alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons fluff#alfie solomons fanfic
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While the moms are away
For @justrainandcoffee alfieverseray
Allie and Rose are her creations, Diane and Eva are mine
Cw: dad's playing dress up with their daughters, mentions of past cross dressing and slight mentions of couples sexual life
He adores his children, his daughters especially, but they took great delight in pushing his limits.
Eva usually took her to her playdates or hosted them. After all, his wife was charming and interesting ... and female.
She could wear costume jewelry and make up and a cheap feather boa as pink as the rest of Diane’s room.
Tommy Shelby would lose his next election if anyone even heard of this.
But he is not alone in his torment. On the other side of the tiny French table in an equally fancy tiny stool sits Alfred Solomons wearing the pink derby hat Eva never even wore once and painted with Eva’s favorite red lipstick. You know that one that had a matron at a charity luncheon call a whorish shade of red.
“Allie, sweetheart, you missed a spot.” Tommy knows he’s playing with fire, but Solomons pointed out Tommy had ear piercings and now Eva’s hoops hung from his ears.
He once pretended to be a girl so Greta could sneak him into her dormitory when they were teenagers and her father sent her to a catholic private school. For several weeks the matrons in charge believed he was Thomasine Shelby, cousin of Ada Shelby visiting from Cork.
And now he is plotting his revenge while they wait for Eva and Rose to return from some ladies charity bazaar they organized for her reelection campaign.
Solomons only glares at him murderously but bites his tongue in front of their daughters. Their strange friendship and enmity is only allowed to show in subtle things to prevent the children, the girls in particular, from hearing swear words in any language or see either father pointing a gun at each other again.
“Di, Princess, didn’t your mummy get you that wig at the costume shop?” Alfie asks with such a shit eating grin that only makes Tommy hate him more. “The blonde one you asked for because you wanted to be Rapunzel for Halloween?”
“Alfie, I will tell Eva to tell your wife about her Russian toy if you don’t stop.” Tommy warns, well, vows as the girls fit the long wig on his head.
Alfie knew what toy he meant, he’d heard of it from Tatiana as they made a change to their plans after the orgy. Tommy has been mocked by him for letting Eva fuck him like that ever since.
“Tell her, I dare you.” The Jewish Gangster smirked. Tommy wasn’t sure if the Solomons were as adventurous in bed as he and his witch were or Rose was not into dominating her husband like Eva was.
Tommy then decides it's just easier to shove him into the pond again even if Alfie drags him down with him. “Girls, how about we stop playing princess tea party and have a picnic by the pond again.”
A/N: the Russian Toy is the strap on Tatiana gave Eva in a Dull Party
#eva smith shelby#tommy shelby x oc#diane shelby#allie solomons#alfie x rose#rose coldwell#dad!alfie solomons#dad!tommy shelby#solomons and shelby
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“How come you’re not in any of the pictures, Alfie?” … “Cause I can’t compete with you or the views, Rose.”
Alfie and Rose decide to take a winter getaway to Iceland once the travel restrictions are lifted. When Rose goes back through the photos taken of all of the wonderful sights, she finds that Alfie wasn’t in any of them. Of course Alfie had a reason for that.
———
For the lovely Flor @raincoffeeandfandoms — I had to make a little something for Rose and Alfie because I miss seeing them on my dash … I’ll just pretend that the modern couple was away on a little vacation and that’s why we hadn’t heard from them. I hope you like it! 🧡
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x oc#alfie x rose#rolfie#alfie solomons moodboard#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x oc#peaky blinders moodboard#k makes moodboards
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In The Graveyard with Lilith Rose Shelby (and Jack Nelson)
This work is inspired by @zablife and her 2K celebration: An Evening at The Arrow House. The OC of Lilith Rose Shelby is my own. The characters of Scarlet Shelby, Aurora Sabini, Heaven Shelby and Eva Smith belong to @zablife, @evita-shelby and @call-sign-shark. I only mentioned them because they inspired me. Eva is only mentioned by name but I did my best to do Scarlet and Heaven justice. Thank you for inspiring me.
TW: Violence, Sexual Content, Swearing.
Lilith Rose Shelby was all grown up. She’d flown the coop and (unlike most members of the Shelby clan) had miraculously escaped the clutches of Tommy’s schemes. Some suspected that her untapped freedom had to do with her immense luck in life… but for those who knew better….it was because Thomas Shelby loved no one more than his youngest sister. No one held such an influence over the greatest gangster turned MP in all of Great Britain (and its dominions) than Lilith, no one else had the keys to his smile or to his heart. You might ask Why, then, she was allowed to roam free? Not shackled to the Arrow House as Ada had once been to the shithole in small heath. Not obligated to attend every family dinner or family meeting that Tommy threw whenever he felt like it.
“Why?” The new Mrs Shelby kissed up Tommy’s back as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Will she not meet me?” Of all the people she desired to make a friend of in this family, Mrs Shelby wanted to make the best first impression on her mysterious good sister. Everyone spoke of her with reverence. Lilith’s name was the very essence of sorcery. Once spoken, even whispered in corridors and in dark corners, a shiver danced up one’s spine…or one’s blood spiked with adrenalin and excitement.
Thomas bristled and stiffened, not responding. Mrs Shelby paused, a pout forming on her nervous lips. In truth, she had expected for Thomas to be eager for his new wife to meet Lilith. The siblings were so close, that she’d expected for her to have been the first person he’d have introduced her to. Instead she was met with a cagey Thomas.
“Lilith doesn’t like Arrow House.” He deflected easily, lighting a cigarette as he stood up and wandered to the window, looking out into the foggy grey autumnal morning. He exhaled some smoke in the way that had her swooning, before he spoke again. “It reminds her of Grace.” Mrs Shelby’s heart dropped. Grace, the woman whose shadow she was forever enshrouded by. She didn’t openly wish to express her dislike of Grace or Lizzie, but she was beginning to despise them. She knew their spirits were mourned and honoured in this house…. if only by the staff and the children. It was complicated. But she hated being compared to them, hated the way the children refused to acknowledge her but would gaze in awe at the portraits of their respective mothers. It made her feel like a replacement…. nothing more. Perhaps Lilith would think the same of her. She chewed on her lip.
“She must have loved Grace a lot.” She mused. Tommy scoffed.
“On the contrary, Lilith hated Grace.” He licked his lips, glancing at his wife. He’d put it politely for her, spared some of the details. No one hated Grace more than Tommy’s beloved little demoness. “She disliked Lizzie as well, but for different reasons.”
“Oh.”
“Grace betrayed me. Lilith refused to forgive that. The only reason she refrained from dancing with joy when she died was that she loved me too much.”
“And Lizzie?”
“Lizzie broke John’s heart.” Tommy spoke casually, remorselessly as though he’d had nothing to do with it.
“I’ve not done anything to hurt anyone.” Mrs Shelby sulked, looking at the floor. Tommy strolled back over to the bed and took her into his arms.
“Quite right.” He kissed her forehead. “Perhaps it’s not such a bad idea to invite her this weekend.”
“But she hates the Arrow House.”
“She’ll come for the family, and for me. The kids will be delighted to see her”
“She’s good with them?” Her interest was piqued. Perhaps Lilith could shed light on the way to Charlie and Ruby’s hearts.
“She dotes on them.” He smiled, a real genuine smile. “They’re mine, after all.”
*****
Mrs Shelby skipped towards Tommy, her letter filled left hand raised in triumph. Her sparkling sapphire engagement ring sparkled in the light.
“They’re coming.” She kissed him joyously. “They’re all coming.”
“All?” He chuckled.
“All.” She confirmed. “And they’re all staying. Scarlet and Luca will stay in the room opposite Finn and Aurora. Alfie and Ada will stay in the room opposite Polly and Aberamma.” Tommy smiled as she babbled out her arrangements. He imagined it was a good idea that Alfie and Arthur should stay in separate wings of the house…. otherwise Ada and Heaven would be forced to intervene, and no one wanted a mess. Gina and Michael would go next to Ada and Alfie. John and Tatiana would have to be kept in the room next to Tommy and Mrs Shelby so he could keep an eye on that mad bitch. Speaking of that insane Russian duchess…. she’d have to be kept as far away from Lilith and her beloved husband, Jack Nelson. Last Christmas had been a disaster when Tatiana – having had way too much to drink – announced that herself and Lilith had been lovers for the entire year before Lilith had met Jack. Jack had hated her guts since. The children would have three whole rooms to themselves. Something Mrs Shelby wasn’t sure was appropriate, but something Tommy had insisted was necessary.
“They all love being together.” He insisted. “And it’s not like we’re giving them the entire house.”
“I’m still so shocked they’re all coming.” She smiled dreamily up at him. “I’ve always wanted a big family.”
“Well, now you have one.”
“You never told me Lilith was married.”
“Ah.” Tommy looked sheepish. “I didn’t think she’d bring him.”
Two years ago she’d eloped with Jack Nelson, the last man on earth Tommy had thought suitable or good enough for Lilith. Jack Nelson was everything Tommy (ironically) hated. He was unfaithful, violent, a fascistic Irish American and he was the most obnoxious, ambitious, cunning bastard he’d ever encountered…It was like looking in an ever so slightly warped mirror. His dislike of the American hadn’t stopped Lilith marrying him though…And yet somehow, the marriage worked. Jack followed the little Shelby witch round like a lost puppy, salivating whenever she looked at him. It was like she held some sort of magical enchantment over him. The loved up pair made Thomas feel a little bit sick. Mrs Shelby smiled teasingly.
“You can’t stand him, can you?”
“He’s not good enough for her.” He grouched. “But for some unfathomable reason, he makes her happy. That’s enough for me.” From the way he gritted his teeth it seemed like that hardest thing he’d ever had to say.
“Everyone thinks you’re a big bad gangster…but I know you’re really just a big softy.”
“Don’t go telling everyone, ey.” He laughed, “I have a reputation to uphold.” Wrapping his arms around her waist he hoisted her up onto the table, taking her lips with his own. Someone coughed. Tommy turned to see Mary, the maid.
“The house is all prepared for the guests, Mr Shelby.”
“Thank you, Mary. That will be all.” She nodded, turning to leave but not before she eyed Mrs Shelby with frigid, calculating eyes. Thomas didn’t seem to notice though as he shifted his attention back to Mrs Shelby as his fingers slid beneath the hem of her dress.
*****
They were nothing like she expected. None of them. Polly arrived first, gliding in like the image of sophistication, barely glancing at Mrs Shelby. Aberamma following closely at her heels. He grunted in greeting, simply tilting his head after removing his hat. Arthur and Heaven arrived at the same time as Scarlet and Luca. Arthur’s greeting had been sweet. He seemed to like her, spluttering over his words to greet her. His hands shook and his eyes looked a little wild. But he meant well. Heaven waltzed in behind him, looking like an angel in her white fur coat. The snow haired beauty’s presence seemed to ease Arthur’s nervousness. He wrapped his arm around her waist as she held out her hand for Mrs Shelby to shake.
“You must be Heaven.” Mrs Shelby stuttered, transfixed by her crystalline eyes.
“Pleasure.” Heaven’s eyes slid to Tommy and her expression instantly shifted to a predatory one. “Bastard.” She acknowledged with a cat like smile.
“Yes. He is.” Scarlet stated as she sauntered through, pushing her way past them and following Polly into the drawing room.
“You’re not going to say hello, Tesoro?” Luca paused in the hallway, smiling at Mary as she took his hat and coat.
“There’s no point in greeting Tommy’s latest victim. Knowing him, she won’t last the year.” Scarlet called back. Tommy watched Mrs Shelby’s confidence dissipate momentarily. Headlights glowed in the driveway.
“Heaven, why don’t you take Arthur and Luca into the drawing room.” Tommy suggested. Heaven’s icy eyes hardened before narrowing at him. Her lips parted in order to respond in a somewhat poisonous manner but Mrs Shelby stepped forward and whispered to her.
“I wouldn’t normally agree with Tommy but Alfie’s just arrived.” Heaven observed the mouse like woman Tommy had married for a moment before she nodded, escorting her husband and brother in law to the drawing room. Music blared as the door opened and Mrs Shelby could see the reflection of Scarlet in the large mirror as she turned the gramophone up.
“SHALOM Thomas!” Roared the bear of a man as he wandered in. Ada rolled her eyes beside him. She hugged Thomas tightly before embracing Mrs Shelby, much to her surprise.
“I hope they’ve not been too scathing to you.” She whispered. “Don’t worry, they’ll warm to you with time.” She pulled back and smiled. “This is my son, Karl, my daughter, Elizabeth and this,” She brushed her hand over her swollen midsection as Alfie beamed with joy. “Is baby Solomons.” Tommy paled as she spoke, only just noticing the pregnancy.
“Jesus Christ.” He muttered beneath his breath. Mrs Shelby held his hand and gave it a squeeze as she spoke.
“You’d better head on in before he has a stroke.”
Tommy had just about recovered when the door to the drawing room opened and he heard Arthur exclaim.
“Fookin’ hell Ada! You bloody kept that quiet, din’t ya?!”
Finn and Aurora Sabini arrived next. Polite and jovial as ever, though Aurora didn’t appear to like the way the youngest Shelby boy looked at his new sister in law. John, Tatiana, Michael and Gina all arrived together. Lawrence ran in from the cold, zooming in circles around Tommy and Mrs Shelby before running past them to the drawing room, banging on the door and yelling “Granma, Granma!”
“My boy!” Polly called in joy as she came out and greeted him, swooping down and collecting him in her arms before slipping back inside. Gina made a noise of disgust.
“Thomas.” She acknowledged.
“Regina.” She scowled as he full named her.
“So this is you’re newest whore?” She studied Mrs Shelby with critical eyes. “She doesn’t look like much, I’m surprised you’re so taken with her.”
“She’s worth ten of you, Regina.” He snapped.
“Michael.” Mrs Shelby smiled warmly. “Thank you for coming.”
“It’s nice to see you again, love. I hope he’s treating you right.”
“He is. Very Much.”
“I took the liberty of bringing a wedding gift. It’s out the front.”
“That’s very generous of you. Really, you didn’t have to.”
“Yes, Michael. You didn’t have to.” Gina snapped before stalking off to the drawing room and loudly demanding a drink. Michael winked at Mrs Shelby, smirked at Tommy and left them to it. He turned to greet John and Tatiana and froze.
“Fuck!” He fumed. “What the fuck are you wearing?!” He looked at John. “What the fuck is she wearing John-boy!”
“Don’t worry, Thomas.” Tatiana purred sensually. “It’s not for you…or your wife.” She stepped around him, the thin scrap of material she called a dress clinging to her figure. “Tatiana Petrovna Shelby, delighted to make your acquaintance.” Mrs Shelby blushed and stepped closer to Tommy as the Russian duchess invaded her space. Grabbing her jaw, Tatiana kissed both of Mrs Shelby’s cheeks.”
“She’d got a beautiful neck, Thomas. I can see why you like her.” She paused. “And that ring!” She snatched Mrs Shelby’s hand, admiring the sapphire encrusted in diamonds. She tutted. “I would have thought you’d learned your lesson with sapphires.”
“They’re a particular favourite of my wife’s.”
“Grace liked sapphires too.” Tatiana smirked, her dark eyes flickering madly in the candle-light. “Is Lilith here yet?” She changed the subject.
“Is she the reason you’re dressed like a whore?” Tommy took a swig of the amber liquid in his tumbler. “You not bothered by this John?”
“As long as I’m the only man she fucks, doesn’t matter to me.” He joked.
“It’ll only ever be you Johnny.” Tatiana turned and kissed him.
“Aye, John-boy. As long as you’re a Shelby, she’s not picky.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mrs Shelby asked, nervously glancing at Tommy.
“It means that before she chose me, she was fucking Tommy…until she got bored of him.” John answered.
“Are we interupptin’ somethin’?” Came Uncle Charlie’s deep gravelly voice. He stopped short to shake Tommy’s hand, flanked by Johnny Doggs, Isiah and Curly. Curly smiled bashfully at Mrs Shelby and handed her some flowers. She blushed.
“Thank you Curly.”
“How’re you findin’ us so far, petal?” Johnny Doggs asked loudly.
“So far I’m struggling to find someone who likes both of us. Polly, Aurora and Gina dislike me, everyone else has a gripe with Tommy.” Johnny Doggs barked out a laugh. “Welcome to the clan!”
“Families.” Isiah scoffed. “Who’d have em?”
*****
Lilith Rose Shelby was the most beautiful creature Mrs Shelby had ever seen. So beautiful, that the air rocketed out of her lungs when she first saw her. They heard Jack first as he escorted her up the steps and held the door open for her. She looked like a goddess, draped in silk. Tommy was fascinated that Jack never once looked away from her. His only greeting to the new Mrs Shelby was a nod and a smirk. He sneered at Tommy before his attention gravitated back to his wife. She had the most beguiling dark eyes Mrs Shelby had ever seen. They were like pools of endless night. Lilith catapulted herself into Tommy, who embraced her tightly and inhaled her scent. Pomegranate and dark amber. She relaxed into him. Releasing her, Tommy cupped his baby sister’s face in his hands and looked at her for a moment.
“You grow more and more beautiful every time I see you.” He smiled.
“Brother.” She spoke quietly….and she sounded like magic. Soft and sensual. “You look well.” She beamed at him. And Mrs Shelby’s heart fluttered at her smile. Jack snaked a hand around Lilith’s waist and pulled her back against him.
“Shelby.” Jack acknowledged. “Married again? You can’t seem to get em’ to stay, can ya?”
“Nelson.” Tommy spoke evenly. “I can keep women just fine. In fact, I’ve never had to cross a continent and steal a woman away to make her mine. I suppose that means I have better luck than you.” Lilith covered Jack’s hand with her own.
“Or,” She interrupted loudly, “It simply means that I was special enough that he had to travel all this way to find me.” Mrs Shelby watched, fascinated as both men melted at Lilith words. Jack kissed Lilith’s forehead and Tommy smiled.
“Could be.” He agreed. Lilith stepped away from Jack and turned her attention to Mrs Shelby. All the noise fell away. She couldn’t hear anything. Apart from the sound of her blood pulsing through her at a rapid speed. She glanced at her husband, and watched his beautiful lips move as he spoke to Lilith and Jack. She watched Lilith study her, eyes raking over her in an unreadable manner. Mrs Shelby’s finger twitched as Lilith’s eyes pause over her engagement ring, her full soft lips quirking into a small smile for a moment before it vanishes. Mrs Shelby gasped, startled when Lilith unexpectedly stepped forward and smiled at her. Lilith took Mrs Shelby’s left hand in both of hers. Her thumb brushed over the sapphire. Her eyes pierced into Mrs Shelby’s hypnotically and Mrs Shelby found herself transfixed as Thomas brushed a hand up and down her back, comfortingly…. obliviously.
“Sister.” Lilith tested the word on her tongue as she surveyed Mrs Shelby. “You’ll be good to him, yes?” She sounded so innocent. So angelic. Her eyes held no malice. Mrs Shelby stuttered.
“Y-Yes. I shall try to be all that he deserves.”
Lilith beamed at her and released her hand. Mrs Shelby’s ring finger throbbed momentarily as she watched her fascinating sister turn and enter the drawing room with Jack. She saw through the reflection in the mirror as Polly embraced her niece tightly and was startled to see Lilith’s reflection gazing predatorily through the looking glass at her.
*****
Dinner was a fucking disaster. It had been nothing like she had hoped. Perhaps she was just projecting her own fears but it seemed that none of them liked her…. even the ones who appeared to. It seemed as though they were watching her every move with a pre-existing negative judgement. She was guilty to them, of something. The problem was she didn’t know what and she didn’t know how to change that. Tommy had enough to deal with, especially after Tatiana had goaded Jack into a row and she was swearing at him in Russian. Arthur had had way too much to drink. Scarlet was screaming at Tommy for something he’d done years ago and Luca was trying desperately to calm her down. She turned to look at Michael, who was in a heated discussion with Gina…and Aurora kept throwing her dirty looks. In the end she’d left the table, claiming to check on dessert. She’d just found a quiet alcove to take a few moments when someone touched her shoulder. She jolted and turned to see Lilith.
“Feeling overwhelmed?” Her voice was so soft, sympathy swirled in her onyx eyes.
“A little.”
A lot. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.
“I know. We can be a lot to handle.” She looked out into the darkened garden. “Why don’t we go for a walk.” She suggested. “Take a moment to ourselves.” Mrs Shelby’s heart soared at the prospect of having a moment alone with someone who might actually like her and in doing so, might sway the opinion of the others. She nodded and took Lilith’s offered arm as the two of them stepped out into the cool autumn air.
It hadn’t been long since they had returned from their honeymoon and so Mrs Shelby hadn’t yet had time to explore the grounds of the Arrow House properly. In the dark murkiness of the evening she couldn’t really see where she was going and clutched on to Lilith’s bare arm a little closer for security. She smelt dizzyingly alluring. Away from all the smoke and whiskey the magic of her perfumed the air in a wonderful way.
“How did you meet my brother, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Da’s one of his employees at Shelby Company ltd. I met Tommy when I brought Da his lunch.”
“How…. quaint.”
Mrs Shelby wasn’t paying attention. She was too bust staring at the purple love bites littering Lilith’s creamy throat. Lilith flushed and giggled when she noticed.
“I’m sorry, I should have covered up more, Jack can get carried away some times.”
“He’s very fond of you.”
“And I, him.” Lilith patted Mrs Shelby’s hand. “I never expected to find Jack. But he’s my better half. As Heaven is Arthur’s and Luca is Scarlet’s. We were worried Thomas would never find someone….worthy.” Lilith stopped her movements and released Mrs Shelby’s arm. For the first time, Mrs Shelby noticed her surroundings. Lilith had brought her to the churchyard close to the Arrow House. She turned, only just able to see the outline of it looming in the moonlight. She shivered, looking back to Lilith who was now staring at something in front of her. “Thomas has very specific needs.” Her voice had lost all of its warmth. Mrs Shelby’s mouth ran dry as she read the names on the gravestones in front of her.
Grace Burgess Shelby.
Daughter, Mother, Beloved Wife.
Elizabeth Stark Shelby
Mother, wife, friend. Lost to childbirth.
Something rustled behind them. Lilith turned and smiled adoringly as Jack stepped out of the shadows. Mrs Shelby wondered how he had known where to find them. “You have to be a certain kind of person to survive in this family. Don’t you, my love?”
“Ya got that right. It’s an honour to love a Shelby…to be prepared to kill and die for them.”
“Thomas needs a fighter.” Lilith reached out and caressed Mrs Shelby’s cheek. “You didn’t fight tonight. You fled, little mouse.” Lilith tutted and stepped closer, so close, Mrs Shelby could feel Lilith’s sweet, warm breath burning against her flesh. “How can I trust that you’ll fulfil him?” Lilith shook her head, looking sad, disappointed even. Jack brushed his wife’s hair off her shoulder, exposing her flesh. He pressed a kiss into the crook of her neck. Mrs Shelby watched Lilith relax a little. “You’re not good enough for him.” Lilith purred softly, Jack’s lips and tongue trailed down Lilith’s neck as she spoke. “Neither of them were, either.” She glanced to the gravestones behind her. “I was lucky with Lizzie; God took care of her. But I had to intervene with Grace.”
“B-but we’re happy.” Mrs Shelby spluttered, fear creeping into her voice every second longer that she spent in Lilith’s presence.
“For now. Until he realises that you’re not enough for him.” She paused, relishing in the look of despair on Mrs Shelby’s features. “Don’t worry. He’ll be happier than ever with Eva. They’ll be perfect together.” Jack hummed in agreement with his beloved and imprinted his teeth in a perfect love bite into her neck as she slid home a beautiful carved and somewhat bejewelled blade into Mrs Shelby’s sternum. Mrs Shelby gasped in pain, a sharp sound leaving her soft lips. “She’s earned him, you haven’t.” Lilith continued as she twisted the hilt, a horrible tearing noise was heard before Lilith let go. Mrs Shelby staggered back and fell back against the willow tree overhanging the makeshift graveyard. Lilith looked down at her blood spattered fingers. Lifting them to her face she licked one, smearing her lips in the substance. Greedily, Jack took her fingers and painted his own mouth with them. Lilith spun in Jack’s arms, giggling and moaning as their lips fused, unbuckling his belt. She murmured something to him and he acquiesced without question, sitting and leaning back against Grace’s headstone. Lilith slipped her dress over her head until she was wearing barely anything in the coldness of the autumn night. She straddled Jack, kissing him deeply before sliding down onto him in the ghostly glow of the full moon.
Mrs Shelby heaved, opening her mouth. She tried to call for help but no sound emerged. Instead she found herself mute, only coughing and spluttering on the crimson blood as it tried to liberate itself from her mouth. Her vision grew blurry for a moment as tears gathered and obscured her sight.
And then she saw them.
The ghosts of Grace Burgess and Lizzie Stark, both completely drenched in blood and staring in horror, not at her but at Lilith and Jack, as he flipped his wife over and took her like an animal. Lizzie’s expression was melancholic. Her hair loose and wild, eyes ceaselessly spilling tears and her mouth agape in silent cries of agony. Her body had been slit open from chest to lower abdomen and still, even in death, she was bleeding. Grace stood beside her still in the gown she wore the night she was murdered. the bullet wound on her chest still wept even though she didn’t. Her face was curiously, disturbingly calm. The sapphire around her neck pulsed and throbbed and pulsed and throbbed. And suddenly Grace wasn’t looking at Lilith and Jack anymore, her pale grey eyes locking onto her second replacement. Mrs Shelby found herself growing shivery and yet unable to move, unable to scramble backwards as the sapphire whispered to her over and over some kind of spell in Romani. The curse…. she recalled hazily as she forced her limbs in an attempt to move. Tommy believed it had been cursed by the Russians. Mrs Shelby’s fingers dug into the soil as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Every movement was excruciating in both pain and in effort. Her eyes fluttered closed in exhaustion and the spell of the sapphire seemed to sing louder and louder, it’s feminine voice echoing seductively in her ears. She realised it was coming not only from the necklace Grace’s ghost wore, but also from the ring on her engagement finger. Struggling, she tried desperately to remove it. But to no avail, it was as though it had fused to her flesh, strangling her finger.
Mrs Shelby’s eyes snapped open. Just in time to see the ghost of Grace stood over her.
“I should feel sorry for you.” Grace whispered. “You’re a victim of this family, just like me.” She paused, licking her discoloured corpse lips. Grace heard it too. She heard that it was Lilith’s voice cursing her inside the blue sapphires, not Tatiana’s. “And Tommy does love you.” There was a moment of silence. “But… I’ve come to realise something.” Grace leaned down and kissed Mrs Shelby’s lips, her ghostly fingers coming up to wrap around Mrs Shelby’s throat. “If I can’t have Tommy…” Grace murmured as she pulled back looking deeply into Mrs Shelby’s eyes.
Her grip tightened...and tightened…and tightened. Mrs Shelby choked and spluttered, her body convulsing. The last thing she saw was Lilith’s dark eyes staring at her over Jack’s shoulder, her nails digging into his back as he held her to him. And Grace’s hoarse voice looming over her.
“Then no one can.”
#An evening at the arrow house#Jack Nelson x OC#Jack Nelson x Lilith Rose Shelby#peaky blinders fanfic#Tommy Shelby#Polly Gray#Michael Gray#Gina Gray#John Shelby#Ada Thorne#Alfie Solomons#heaven shelby#arthur shelby#Scarlet Shelby#Luca Changretta#Eva Smith#Grace Shelby
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BACK TO THE 20'S - 4
Alfie & Rose Solomons belong to @raincoffeeandfandoms
“First, however, there are those upon this land that need protection, and I hear, Ms. Rose, that you are in need of some guards and those to teach them. It would be my divine honor to help in that matter. All female, of course, and to also help the children and women learn basic things they can do to help them should they ever be cornered. We women are not nearly as frail and fragile as the men would like to believe. It is such a joy to remind them of that, in the most painful of ways.” A devious smile formed on her lips, one that went all the way to her eyes causing the corners to crease. “And then we can talk about the beautiful ravens.” Gynnifer smiled brightly now, oh how she did love her birds!
“Yes, you mentioned your ravens, Miss Gynnifer.” Rose said, smiling over at the other woman. “You can help train my staff and bring your own? And these ravens of yours will be of help?” She thought back to the bird who had come at Gynnifer’s calling with the liquor. It did make her curious about any birds trained by her.
“I have trained many under the employ of Ms. Annabella and Mr. Jasper within New Orleans. There are things that can be done by your staff, staff I can bring, and the women and children themselves. Everything in degrees of experience and application.” Gynnifer explained patiently. She was nearly as old as Annabella, it was not the first time she had explained her methods to someone. She had trained herself at Anna and Jasper’s side long ago. Now she was their head trainer, for all things. “The ravens, ducks, and even geese that are natural to these lands can be of great use to us. Birds are often overlooked, flying over our heads. This makes them the perfect surveillance and security system for those who need early warning for when danger approaches.” She blinked slowly and inclined her head to the woman with a soft smile.
“Gynnifer is known for training all our new operatives in our organization in New Orleans. I would put her trainees up against the worst of Shelby’s men any day, and I guarantee you that they would be the ones walking away.” Anna winked at Rose. Her association with Tommy was well known, so for her to make such a statement held weight. "You never send a man to do a woman's job."
"If you'd like, Mrs. Rose, I can have some of the ladies I've trained in New Orleans come over to assist while we are training staff here in England. They can stand as testament to your ladies here that they do not need to be afraid and also what proper training can do. This is true for staff and those hiding here from the evils they've endured." While Gynnifer tended to be a more reserved and serious woman, she had a softer expression and tone at the end of her statement. While she loathed, with a passion that rivaled the heat of a supernova star, those who dared to raise a hand to children or women, for those who had endured such abuse, she had nothing but compassion. In her life she had seen far too much to feel otherwise.
"If that wouldn't be too much trouble, that sounds wonderful! It would help raise their spirits to see those that are able to defend themselves and not be afraid. And for our staff, it would show that what we are proposing is possible." Rose beamed as excitement grew. Her dream of protecting the innocent and abused was growing and fully materializing.
"It will be no trouble at all. I'll send a wire tomorrow to have several pack and come over as soon as possible." Anna laid her hand on her good friend's and squeezed softly. "I know you'll adore them all."
"And I dare any man to try to burn down your headquarters again with my ladies and our ravens guarding it." A devious smile alighted Gynnifer’s lips. "They will wish it were you husband’s men they met." A wink and a smirk were cast to Rose, whom Gynnifer was becoming quite fond of.
"You mention your ravens again. I know you said they act as a warning and surveillance. We will be grateful for that while you are here, but what can be done for when you leave? Please do not think we are not grateful!” Rose inquired, trying to not sound ungrateful or demanding at the same time.
“Oh darling, we won’t leave you defenseless. Poe and Nevermore both recently had chicks. I would be more than happy to bless you with your own starter flock of ravens that are trained from birth by my people so that they are loyal to you and your staff. While we are training you all on defending yourselves, we can train you as well on raven care and rearing. You’ll have more ravens than you know what to do with soon.” Gynnifer laughed and gave her new friend a brilliant smile. She did so love introducing new people to the wonderful world of ravens. Blessing these women with a new crop of her beloved bird’s offspring would be lovely. “And once you learn how to train them, you can also give them to the women who live here so they have protection and warning when they leave. I have found, in my years of experience, that men of a certain type can be…persistent.”
There was a certain inflection on the last word that Gynnifer spoke that made it clear exactly what she meant without having to expressly specify it. Anna inclined her head towards the dark haired female, a knowing and tight smile forming on her lips. “Yes, and that is why, dear Rose, that I would only entrust your establishments here to the best of my best.” 200 years had passed since she had been Rose’s age, and she had learned and seen a lot in that time. If she could prevent another woman from experiencing it, well all the better.
****
Back at Alfie and Rose’s home, the men were still discussing liquor and smuggling. Jasper kept having to remind himself that not only was he not to eat Alfie, which he had already decided was not something he was interested in, but he was also not to have him sign over his soul. Anna really did like to spoil the demon’s fun sometimes. She really should be more appreciative of the fact he adored her.
As they sat now discussing cigar imports for Alfie, Jasper could feel the human’s eyes studying him. While not as scrutinizing and sharp as Anna’s friend Tommy Shelby, another human that was off the menu, they were just as heavy on the demon. Curious how his favorite Grigori had made friends with two humans who were so meticulous in their review of a being, yet failed to notice that neither of them were human. Even in New Orleans there was the occasional human that would figure it out, rarely with as much attention paid as Mr. Solomons was currently paying Jasper. Although, again, Alfie could not become a snack if he figured it out, so Jasper had to be very careful not to let anything slip.
Thankfully Alfie was paying more attention to the negotiations on profit sharing than anything that might give Jasper away. Since the only snacks hadn't been living for some time, there was no worry of accidentally eating something still alive. He'd learned long ago that tended to freak humans out, especially if the snack were another human.
@saltysupercomputer @blind-the-winds @pheita @writingmaidenwarrior @dreaminggoblin @outpost51 @toribookworm22 @ceph-the-ghost-writer @aziz-reads @call-sign-shark @look-at-the-soul @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick
#writeblr#my writing#my ocs#friend's ocs#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanfic#alfie solomons#rose solomons#alfie x rose#anna & jasper#back to the 20's#writeblr community#writeblr connect#writing#fiction
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Ring Around the Roses
(Alfie Solomons x female reader)
Summary: Attempting to get away from the Shelby party chaos, Alfie and his wife sneak off into Tommy's garden for a little fun. It isn't until the next morning they discover the consequences of their actions and Alfie has to remind his wife what their marriage is really about.
A/N-Hi Y'all! Possible TW's for only the end of this include Mentions of death, Unhealthy coping habits and self blame! Also this is for K's (@runnning-outof-time) 3K celebration! Congratulations you're amazing and I love seeing you on here❤️❤️❤️ I hope you like this! I haven't done a celebration before really but I saw your theme and the idea spring into my head. Despite the warnings it's mostly fluffy until the time skip! Also there's one part that implies smut but none actually written! Enjoy ❤️
WC- 6.6k
Main Masterlist
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"Are you sure we can do this out here?"
"Do what dovey? I'm just taking a nice little stroll with my darling wife aren't I? Letting her get a quiet break from all those heathens inside."
You scoffed, knocking into your husband's side gently as the pair of you walked through the garden. For a man who seemed particularly fond of dark colours, Thomas Shelby's garden was particularly vibrant.
"Oh hush, you only call them heathens because you're too scared to use the word friend."
"FRIEND!" Alfie scoffed while kicking at a particularly beautifully tulip that just happened to be nearby, just to prove his point. "No no no Dovey, THEY are not my friends, yeah. If I were to pick anyone to be my friend it certainly would not be ANY of them."
You only rolled your eyes and shot a knowing smirk in his direction. For all your husband's spite and trickery, you knew he really did have a soft spot for the Shelby family.
"Alright love, I believe ya. That's absolutely why you immediately declined the invitation to come here tonight isn't it. Burned it in the fireplace correct? Told me not to put it in the calendar? Because you don't have plans at being anything other than vicious enemies is that right? The pie I brought tonight was a death threat wasn't it? Did you slip in some arsenic into the powdered sugar?"
Rolling his eyes at your teasing, Alfie couldn't help but smile as he watched you laugh at your own joke. Continuing your path through the garden you mindlessly reached back a hand for your husband a few steps behind. A clear indication of what you wanted. What you always wanted. Slipping his hand between yours, he let you drag him through the bushes, further from the party. With each step he could see you relax a bit more, as you enjoyed the scene around you.
"Is it quieter out here Dovey?"
Smiling softly, you only nodded your head before reaching out gently to touch the leaves of a nearby bush. Though the party was fun, it had gotten a bit loud and in the growing chaos you needed some air. So while Tommy and Polly were distracted trying to convince Arthur and Finn not to throw Michael in the lake, you and your husband had slipped outside.
"Alfie, we should plant a garden of our own I think."
"Is that right Dovey? Does my lady want some bushes of her own to trim doesn't she?"
"I think we could get some nice rose bushes. I've always loved those."
"Roses, is that it? You got a feeling about those prickly little parasites don't ya Dovey? I never got why you liked them."
Chuckling you sat on the edge of a nearby wall as your husband dug his feet in the ground. You knew exactly why Alfred hated roses, and it still amused you to this day.
It happened years ago, around the time you'd first gotten together. This was before Alfie was even able to grow a beard, and all his kisses resulted in a scratchy scruff that prickled your face. Way back when boxing was still his main pastime instead of "baking", both kinds actually and these days your husband finally knew how to make a decent muffin. In an effort to be romantic, he'd shown up at your work one day with a nice bouquet of roses. They were lovely flowers and you were immensely elated by the gesture, and especially amused since he'd bought the flowers from that very shop only the day before too.... However it was a shame you never got the chance to put them in water. See, somewhere between the ten steps it took to get from the door to your table, he had tripped and fallen flat on the ground. Don't worry, his face hadn't hit the hard ground, it was cushioned....by the thorny roses. Maybe it was a good thing the thorns had left so many bloody scratches. It meant you weren't able to tell his face had turned as red as the roses petals now surrounding him. Instead of the romantic date he wanted to take you on, the evening was spent with you dapping the cuts on his face with a damp cloth while he started at the wall, contemplating every life choice he'd ever made. That was the night Alfred Solomons decided he'd never trust a rose ever again. Not even the ones his darling wife sought to plant in her gardens.
"Alfie, come on! Roses aren't that bad, just because you had a little slip up years ago doesn't mean they all hate you."
Standing by up again, you held out your arms towards Alfie as music began to reach the garden. Shaking his head lightly, he set down his cane and took your arms, fully confident you'd be there to support him if his hip got too bad. You and Alfie had yet to dance tonight, caught up talking with others (which was really just your doing) and pointing out everyone who'd gotten too drunk and was trying piss in the plants. It wasn't something either of your minded to badly, the large crowds of people tended to make you feel a bit nervous and Alfie occasionally had a hard time keeping rhythm because of his hip. So most of your dancing was done in the back corners of the ballroom or privately in your kitchen, waiting for the midnight snacks to be done.
However tonight, it seems you'd be dancing in Thomas Shelby's garden. Slowly but happily, you waltzed closely with your husband, stepping around the fountain and laughing as he stopped to twirl you ever few seconds. Other than the music from the house and the gentle crunches of your shoes beneath the gravel path, the world was silent. When the song ended your husband gave you a gentle kiss and stepped back, though he was still holding you in his arms. Looking up above yourselves, you saw the constellations fitting the night sky.
"Ohh Alfie! Look at them! Aren't they beautiful?"
Beaming, you grinned up at the stars twinkling down on you before moving from your husband to a smaller empty plot of ground. You suspected that something was to be planted there soon, but paid no mind to the grime that would get on your skirt as you settled down to sit in the dirt. It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible.
"What are ya doing now Dovey? Is this the thing you said we shouldn't be doing?" Alfie teased you from where he was still standing.
"I just wanna sit and watch the stars for a bit. Come," remaining seated you patted the spot next to you, "Join me."
Alfie walked over to the spot but when he got there, he only raised an eyebrow at you and tapped his hip with the cane. You stared for a moment and then it clicked. Laughing slightly at your forgetfulness, you stood up, bowing dramatically, and held out your arm.
"Right right, I forget you have the hip of an overworked, ninety seven year old parlor dancer. Shall I assist you to the ground my dear sir?"
Alfie only grumbled, but his eyes twinkled as you teased him. If anyone else had made the comment they'd have been dead before they blinked, but you were different. Alfred Solomons was capable of many things, but some nights when his hip got bad, he needed help moving around more, especially if it meant going from standing to sitting on the ground. You were happy to help of course, but being married for over a decade didn't mean the pair of you were above lightly poking fun of the other. Only two years ago, you had accidentally scratched part of your eye and needed to wear an eyepatch for five weeks. The first thing Alfie had done when you walked out of the examination room and asked if he could get food for dinner, was reply with "does patchy wanted a cracker" in reference to the one eyed parrot you'd seen in a film the month before. It was just something you'd always done together even before you started dating. A dark humor you both shared, as if joking about the hurt could make it better.
Holding his other arm, you gently helped your husband lower himself to the ground, squeezing his hand comfortingly when he let out a small groan. After helping your husband take a seat, you settled into your own again, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked to the heavens.
"You aren't really gonna plant roses are ya Love? What if something happens to them?"
"Like what? You assault them with your face again?"
"....Maybe? But like why do you really enjoy them? I still don't see the charm."
Sighing, you shifted your gaze and looked your husband in the eyes. One of your hands moved up to his face, as you gently caresses the one spot on his face that refused to grow hair like the rest of his beard. You knew it was another old war wound, but this was actually one he had yet to tell you the story of. Gazing into his eyes a few moments more, you then changed positions so you were seated across his lap, one leg in either side of his.
"Why do I love roses?....Their petals are as soft as their thorns are sharp and given the right hand, their climb up any wall in their path. Not only that but their petals can have many uses for food or paint or even my blush. That means they are able to change their usefulness based off their situation at hand. They are able to adapt, nor are the helpless. Some people say the point of the thorns is to choke out anything else threatening to take the roses' livelihood." you gently held your husbands face between your hands as you continued, "I like roses because they remind me of you Alfie. Because they are beautiful, and strong, and dangerous. You are a gorgeous and strong man, and I know how badly you try to protect me every day. You are so kind to me, but I know how far you'll go for me. I would go just as far for you. You are my rose Alfred Solomons and so I love them as all they remind me of you."
Alfie was quiet for a moment, observing what you'd said. His hands sat on your waist, thumbs rubbing gently in your sides.
"You saying I'm like a fucking flower Dovey, is that it?"
"Yeah, you're my flower though."
"....Alright."
"....You know why else you're like a rose love?"
"Why poppet?"
"Because it can be a pain in the ass to keep you alive sometimes."
Alfie only put his hand to his chest in mock offense, while your grinned up at him mischievously.
"Oi, now you better watch your words there Dovey."
"Make me Rosie," you whispered, grinning as your leaned closer to your husbands face, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.
Gently Alfie leaned back, taking you with him until his back was on the ground. Hands, still on his face, you could feel the smile on his face. Slowly one of his hands moved to your head bringing you down so he could kiss you again. Sweet at first but it quickly increased in passion and vigor. Though eventually you had to pull back for breath, and it was then you realized his hands had already rearranged your skirts in a way overnight you both.
"Alfred? I know we can't do this out here?"
Your husband only laughed, reaching towards his belt as he pulled you close again.
"Slide down a bit farther and I think you'll see we definitely can Dovey. It's only a matter of being quiet enough to evade capture."
It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible. And luckily, the music was loud enough to hide the sounds of rustling bushes...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It wasn't until the next morning when you realized what went wrong...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After making it back to the house last night and finding half the dog food "mysteriously missing", the pair of you had decided to call it a night. And since business was going so well Alfie had elected to take a few days off, hoping to spend more time with you. It also meant he'd finally be able to sleep in.....or so he thought.
A sudden crash woke Alfie from his slumber the next morning.
Shooting up, he automatically looked to his right, and his heart stopped for a moment realizing you weren't there. Another clatter from downstairs and a frustrated scream from you had him practically jumping out of bed and grabbing his gun. You usually like staying in bed for a few more hours, especially when he was there, so the fact he could hear your distress from upstairs made him worry.
Carefully Alfie snuck down the hall, peaking in rooms to make sure no unsavory figures were lurking behind the door. Another annoyed groan accompanied by various curse words hurried him to his final destination.
"Love, are you alright?"
It was a stupid thing to ask as you were very much not alright. The kitchen was a mess, looking like every cabinet had been opened and all the contents pulled out. Pots and bass were laud hurriedly across the counters as you rummaged through every nook and cranny. A quickly glance into the living room told Alfie it was scattered in a similar state. But you hadn't responded to your husband, not the first time or even the second. It wasn't until Alfie stepped right up behind you, putting his hand on your shoulder, and turning your around to face him when you responded.
"I can't find it."
Your voice wavered as you admitted the truth. Looking down like a small child about to be told off, you averted your face from your husband's. Alfie was still confused, but he could tell whatever you were rallying about was obviously important.
"Can't find what Dovey? Whatever it is it's probably isn't too bad. I can help ya find it righty?"
"No Alfie you don't undertstand."
"Then help me understand Love. Let's get through this together like we always have yeah? Come on, tell your husband what we're looking for." Carefully cupping your face in his hands, Alfie guided you to look at him again. He could see the tears welling in your eyes as you spoke.
"....I.....I lost my wedding ring Alfie."
"Oh."
It was the simple oh that broke the dam. Stepping back from your husband, tears began to stream down your face as you shoved your fingers in you hair as if trying to hold in the stress.
"SEE I told you it was terrible. I...I woke up this morning and went to the bathroom and noticed it missing when I went to clean my hands. I figured I'd just taken it off la... last night but it wasn't by the bed table like I usually put it. Then I went through the bathroom and it wasn't there. I've gone through every room in this hours and I can't fucking find it!!! I don't ....I don't know where it is Alfie. I just... oh god."
Covering you mouth with your hand, you realized where you lost the ring.
"Alfie the fucking garden."
"The garden? Love you haven't made the garden yet, how could it be there?"
"No, TOMMY'S garden. It has to be there. It fell off last night when we were rolling in the dirt. I've been meaning by to get it resized. Oh fuck this is awful"
Alfie actually chuckled at your realization. Of course the ring would fall off in the most inconvenient place possible, but he wasn't about to tell you that.
"Thats alright Dovey we can just..."
Throwing your hands in the air you interrupted your husband, frustrated at yourself for a number of reasons. It stung Alfie's heart to see you like this. Carefully he dragged your hands from your face and pulled you into a hug. Soothingly his hands ran up and down your back as he tried to comfort you.
"We can just what Alfred? Waltz back over and demand he let us dig up the plants for it? He'd probably ask why and what are we suppose to say then huh Alfred? Oh you know, we lost it in the garden you see...Well what were you doing there Y/N? ...Nothing much just fertilizing the soil, pollinating the flower, playing like the rake and ho, rustling the bushes, sowing seed in the garden, FUCKING IN THE FLOWERBEDS!!!! No we can't do that Alfie we just can't! It's probably gone forever... I'm so sorry."
Alfie was the one to hide his face this time. He knew you were in distress but he was amused by one of your last sentences. You always were good with the innuendos. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get you to calm down. He knew at this point you weren't so mad about the ring, as just overwhelmed by the lack of success you'd had in finding it.
"Yes love, we can tell him all those things and if he'd got any sort of romantic bone in his tiny, banged up little body he'd offer us shovels to dig if we need them. And if not then I'd wager every deal I'd ever have with his lot is out the fucking window isn't it. We've been married since before the little one of them was teething haven't we? It's not like they don't think we're fucking. Besides it's a decent fucking garden, Tommy should have know what he was doing when he made that little hidey spot didn't he? It'll be fine. And if I find it then I'll get to propose to you all over again won't I? I think if I got one wish left in the word it would be to do that again. Ask if you'd be mine forever and let you know I'll always be there. Love I promise. It's alright Dovey, it's ok. No need to get worked up about it's not such a big deal."
Thought he was trying to help, his last sentence only made things worse. Stepping pack from Alfie you threw your hands up again.
"IT IS OUR MARRIAGE ALFIE! And I've practically lost it like it means nothing at all! How can you say that!"
There it was. The really reason you were so worked up. Not because you'd lost the little ring. It was because somewhere in your mind, over the years you'd been together, you'd gotten the idea that if you didn't have it on your were almost betraying everything you held dear. As if you thought without the ring, all the vows you'd mad together were nil. Alfie couldn't help but laugh at that. He laughed hard too, like you'd told the funniest joke in their world.
"You think that ring is our marriage?"
Stepping closer again Alfie took your arms and pulled you closer.
"Our marriage is so much more than that fucking ring love," he said, cupping your face between his hands again. "Our marriage is me stealing Ollie's shirt before every lunch date because his is cleaner than mine and wanna look my best for the best, that's you by the way. It's you grinning at me through the glass window at fuck O'clock in then morning when I've taken the dog out for a piss since you thought it'd be funny to lock me out in the cold in my fucking skeevies again. It's me paying a fuck ton of money to the flower shop down the street so you could get a rose every week I was away fighting. It's you spending hours patching me up after I had a bad fight even though blood makes you gag yeah. When you refuse to give me dinner until I give you a kiss and when I won't give you a gift until I've gotten a hug? Sharing a bath after a hard day? That's our marriage. You interrupting my meeting because you're so excited to show me a new book? Me interrupting your book club because I've just gotten back from a business trip? You demanding I come to bed and cuddle up, only to shove me off of you later when you're too hot? Me tightening jars in the pantry so you have to get me to open them? Making fun of each other's injuries, patchy? Don't you see it? You. Me. You. Me. You. Me. WE."
"Alfie..." You couldn't help but smile at your husband's words realizing he was right.
"Dovey, It isn't defined by a thin piece of metal with a tiny fucking stone that I stole off a rich toff at a boxing match one day. Our marriage is YOU and ME and every little moment in between. And I promise it's always gonna be just that. And do you know why that is Treacle?"
Alfie had moved his hands again, now resting them on your hips. Gazing at you lovingly he waited for your answer.
"Why Ally?"
"Because I'm your flower remember? I'm your fucking rose.... and you're fucking my sunshine, Dovey. I have no chance of living without you."
Wrapping your arms around your husband, you buried your face into his neck. Losing the ring you'd worn almost every day for years didn't seem so criminal anymore.
"Alfred Solomons when did you learn to say something so romantic."
Your husband only chuckled as he step away, grabbing some of the boxes you'd pulled out in your panic.
"A master never reveals his secrets Dovey. Now come on. Let's clean this up and then we'll go get you a new ring eh? Wouldn't want any gangly miscreant thinking they've got a chance with you would we?"
Looking at the damage you'd done, you couldn't but sigh, maybe it would have been better to wake your husband immediately before diving head first into your expedition. Now you were kicking yourself since you'd just redone all the work you'd don't last week reorganizing every thing.
"I'm not sure the jewellery shop will still be open today by the time we finish Alfred. I'm not even sure we'll be able to finish this in a week with the mess I've made."
Your husband just bonked you lightly with the broom he handed you and nudged you in the direction of the living room.
"That's alright Dovey. Because unless you've got some nefarious little plans I haven't heard of to steal my dog and run off, I don't think either of us is going anywhere anytime soon aren't we?"
You could only smile and kiss him on the cheek.
"I suppose you're right. We've got all the time in the world...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two years later...
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"Shelby, I want my dog."
The Shelby in question turned around, eyeing the woman before him. He knew this day would come. Only he expected it to be sooner, a few days, maybe even a week later...but now it was four months. Four months since he....despite his feelings towards the man, Tommy couldn't help but feel slight regrets for what he'd done. Especially seeing the state of her now, standing in his garden.
"He's just gone on a walk with Charlie and Finn. They should be back in an hour or so."
"I'll wait... I see you filled in that empty plot of ground. They're lovely flowers, I don't remember them being there two winters ago."
Tommy averted his gaze to the bushes you were pointing at. Indeed the small alcove where you'd hidden with your husband had been filled. In its place grew a thick rose bush, blooming with life. You smiled, and to anyone else, they might have thought your look truthful. And some of it was, thinking of the happy memories connected there. But Tommy could see deeper than that. Behind the smile he could see the same pain he had when he looked in mirrors. The pain that came from losing the thing you loved most. For as different as you both were, he knew the tactic you played, though the mask you wore was much brighter than his. And for now he decided he could respect that. He could pretend just for a moment, if only to help you. It was the least he could do, seeing as he was the reason you wore it... He was the one to pull the trigger.
"You're right. The gardener put them in almost two years ago, right after the party where Arthur and Finn tossed Michael into the lake. Do you remember that one? I saw you talking to my sister but never saw you leave that night."
A genuine chuckle left your mouth hearing his words. You played with the ring on your left hand. Only two years old and very expensive, but in that moment, it felt like you were wearing another ring again. One that was much older and worn, that you hadn't seen in years.
"I do. That was certainly a night I'll remember forever. It's a shame you got rid of that little alcove. It was a nice little spot away from the world wasn't it."
Tommy could only nod and take another drag of his cigarette.
"Did Alfie ever tell you about the first and last time he gave me roses in person. I mean, of course he probably didn't and I'll have to tell you sometime, but I think you might find it funny. There's a lot about him I'm sure he hasn't told you. But then again, knowing him there's probably a lot he did..." You trailed off, staring at the flowers a bit longer, remembering that day over a decade ago, not really meaning to tell Tommy that, doing so anyway. After all, no one had heard from you in months, so it made sense to him, that you'd be eager to talk to anyone. Even the man you should hate most in the world.
Silence descended on the pair standing tense in the garden. There was so much to be said, but neither knew where to start. Truthfully, you'd only talked to Tommy a handful of times, but he felt like he'd already known you like his sister. He couldn't help but scoff, thinking of all the times Alfie had gone off on a tangent about you during a meeting. Sometimes, your mention had nothing to do what was being discussed at all, Alfie just liked to brag about the good he had. In the end it was Tommy who spoke up first, the guilt of his past actions finally caving in on him.
"Y/N, I'm sor..."
"Don't. Thomas, I don't want you to say sorry," turning from the vibrant blooms, you faced the capped man. "I don't want you to say sorry, because you know what? I don't blame you. You're completely alright. I'm not mad at you.... It's my fault I suppose. I could have stopped it."
Tommy raised his eyebrow, curious to what you meant, and also concerned. There was something in your eyes that made his stomach turn slightly hearing those words. But he couldn't exactly place why.
"What's that suppose to mean Y/N?"
You only let out a bittersweet laugh and stared out into the garden again, sitting on the edge of a familiar fountain before you revealed the truth.
"It's my fault he's gone I think. I should have known. I should have never left that day and I could have stopped it."
Tommy's brows furrowed as he sat down next to you.
"What's that mean? You couldn't have known what his plan was? It's not your fault."
Absentmindedly, you picked at the leaves of a nearby bush. Though your voice was even, Tommy could practically see the war inside your head.
"It's how he kissed me when I left that day. I was only going to be gone a few days to visit my friend who was suppose to have her baby soon. Nothing dangerous. But it's the way he kissed me that should have tipped me off. He kissed me the way he did when he got on the damed train, in that damned uniform. He kissed me like he didn't think he'd see me ever again, going to die in the war. And I guess he didn't."
Tommy didn't say anything. He just let you continue. Something in his head told him, he needed to let your speak, he needed to keep you here tonight. If he let you leave today, no one would ever see you again and something in Tommy told him not to let that happen.
"You know I still haven't admitted it to myself just yet... The truth," standing up you began to pace around the fountain, circling the water. "Since I first got the call I haven't picked up the phone anymore, I'm scared of what I'll hear. I haven't opened any letters, because I don't want to see what they'll say. I still haven't even gone home yet. I've been paying for a hotel room by my friend's house and only leaving by when I need more food. I know it not good for me, but it's all I can find I can do. I've been telling myself it's just that. He's gone to the war again and he'll be back in a few months." Though you spoke with a smile as if talking about the weather, it was easy to see the pain in your eyes. You thought denying the truth would make the hurt go away. But it wouldn't, Tommy knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. And like with Cyril, he felt like he was the one who needed to help. So he decided to play along for now, letting you keep your act up. Atleast until he could figure out the best way to fix the mess he still felt he'd made.
"You tell yourself it's the war eh? Do you write him letters."
"Yes, I write him one almost every day. But I haven't sent any. Did you know that I was rarely able to send them to him during the war. Something about his post being secretive, and no one should know where it really was. So I'd just... write a letter everyday and when I got a letter that his squad was resting at a safe camp every few months I'd just send the packet of them.... If I was lucky I'd get one back, but most of the time I just had to wait. I learned a lot about waiting then. I learned it was better to laugh too. Laughing helped me stay sane."
Standing up, Tommy began walking with you as you stepped deeper into the gardens.
"Laughing eh? Well I guess it's better than what I did. Almost drunk myself to the grave and then fucked off in a caravan with my son for a month. Seems you're handling it better than me."
You could only scoff at his response.
"Oh don't worry, there's been plenty of drinks for me too. I'm a happy drunk though, so I guess it helps my plan. After all, as long as I'm laughing, I don't have time to cry. I don't think I'll be able to stop crying the day I begin. So I'm just trying to hold off as long as I can."
"Aren't we all."
Silence fell in the garden again, and the two widowed souls walked back to the house. It was starting to get back and Tommy had noticed Finn's car pull up a few minutes ago. When you reached the back door you were met with a fluffy beast knocking you over as soon he'd caught sight of you. Cyril was happy to have at least one of his masters back. The man taking care of his now treated him well, but he still missed life with his old owners, even if he couldn't express it in words.
While you reunited with Cyril and applauded Charlie on the tricks he taught the dog, Tommy went to gather some of Cyril's things and have Francis prepare a room for you. Tommy had no clue where you'd take the dog, but seeing as you seemed adamant about staying away from Margret, and apparently didn't despise Tommy (somehow), he thought it made sense to let you stay the night for a bit. And something still told him to convince you to stay even if just for one day.
On his was back down the stairs he noticed something sitting on the table and there was a click in his brain. He remembered the curiosity brought to him that morning during breakfast, and suddenly a lot of odd business meetings made sense. He finally realized who'd messed up the empty dirt patch that night two years ago. Grabbing the object off the table, Tommy headed back to the drawing room. Inside you were still petting your beloved dog, even though Finn had taken Charlie to get ready for bed.
"Y/N, I went up to grab some of Cyril's things, but I think it may be better for you to spend the night here. It's getting late and I don't think either of us wants the dog getting hurt if you were to crash."
You laughed gently at his words, not caring to ask about the hand behind his back. Not thinking much about his words, you accepted his offer. You knew you should be mad at him, hate him, even what to kill him, but you couldn't. You were too tried to be mad at anyone right now. Besides, it wasn't like you knew where you were going anyway. You just wanted to see your...his dog again. Maybe if you had that little piece left, it would make it easier to move on. It would make it easier to pretend you weren't alone now.
"Alright. I'll stay. But only so Charlie can give Cyril a proper goodbye. I'd hate to tear them apart, it seems they've made close friends."
"They have," Tommy smiled, genuinely happy thinking of how closely his son had bonded with the dog. "Cyril's stuff is in Charlie's room now infact. They've taken such a liking, I can't keep them apart. We can get his stuff tomorrow, but I do have one thing I think you may want now."
You looked towards the Shelby man curious. "What is it?," you questioned.
Silently Tommy extended his hand to give you the object he'd snagged from the table.
It was a single rose... But something was different about it. The stem seemed to have grabbed something buried within the dirt to take along as it began to grow. Twisting and turning all the way out of the dirt, outwards towards the sun, as if offering the shiny object up. An ages old promise from the rose to the sun of an endless truth, never broken even in death...
The rose was offering his sun a ring.
And not just any ring. A wedding ring. Simple and worn, it had been stolen off a rich toff from a boxing match many years ago. It had survived work and war, seen blood and lust, and so many other things. And while the ring didn't define the marriage it represented a promise you thought you'd never see again. But here now, seeing how tightly the rose stem had grown around it, you knew you'd never have to worry about that again. Not even death could stop the love the rose proposed to his sun. Even in death he'd still offer her life.
You couldn't even take the rose from Tommy's hand before you finally broke. Laughing at the irony, Tears streamed down your face as you sunk to your knees, all the pain you'd been bottling up coming out. And thus you sobbed, hard. So hard in fact, it felt like you couldn't breathe. And you sobs were still mixed with laughter of disbelief as a million memories ran through your head, but none as loud as the one of that night and the morning after.
Two years ago you'd lost that ring. Alfie promised that he'd look multiple times whenever he went back to the house, even if it meant having the meeting in the garden like "a bunch of prissy ladies at a fucking tea party" as he'd called it. And for two years he'd had no luck until now. But today, your rose had finally found the lost ring, even if you'd lost him months ago.
Setting the rose gently on the table, Tommy sunk to his knees too. Letting you grab onto him, for a shoulder to mourn on. He knew you needed it. For so long you'd shut yourself away, denying the truth and trying to act like it didn't affect you. You wanted to pretend your world wasn't falling apart and now you couldn't any more. He'd been he same way, except he didn't have anyone to help him. He couldn't burden his one year old son with his grief and he knew most of his family still resented Grace to some degree. They hadn't been as destroyed by her passing as he had. He didn't want you to be alone like he had. For as many terrible thing as Tommy had done, he couldn't bring it upon himself to leave you alone now. And so he sat on the floor, holding you in his arms as the cracked dam finally broke.
That night, until the early hours of the morning, Thomas Shelby sat comforting the wife of the man he'd killed. And he would until she'd fallen asleep, finally worn out from her grieving. In the morning he'd offer breakfast and they'd get to talking about the loves they lost. They were still both hurt and broken and mourning what they'd lost, but they weren't alone now. For two people so different they both knew what the other felt so deeply. Little snippets and stories about happier times, while watching a little boy play with a big dog, laughing as the pair rolled in the grass. And while both still grieved, there was a peace to be found in being with someone who knew how they felt.
And while they talked, Y/N played with the ring on her finger. It was new and expensive and fit just right. This one was only two years old and didn't have many memories but she loved it just the same. And upstairs by her bed sat another ring, but this one was held tightly by a rose she'd placed in a vase. This was the ring that she loved more, and the one she really wanted to wear, but she couldn't bear to tear it from the rose just yet. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to. Maybe she'd let the rose dry out and preserve it like she use to do someone's at the flower shop when she was young. But for now she's let it live as it was.
Holding on tightly to a promise that not even death could divide...
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While all this happened a mailman was headed towards Birmingham with a letter from a dead man, asking about his dog and looking for his wife....
#Alfie Solomons x reader#peaky blinders x reader#alfie solomons imagine#peaky blinders headcanon#peaky blinders#alfie solomons#tales from the flower garden
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Who did this to you? - 5
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader
Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.
Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing, wounds,
Word Count: 2.3k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6
Faint, scarcely perceptible footsteps resounded throughout the mansion. The world was remote, and the storm had ceased, had travelled across the land, but ruled with an iron fist in her mind. Y/N couldn't find peace, needed a map, a guide to find the trail through the endless labyrinth of greyed memories.
Yellowish shades dimmed the vibrant light of the two lamps in the far corners of the richly decorated room. The walls of wood were silent, did not speak nor chant a forgotten tale of wrath and destruction. Her eyes did not search for the enemy, was safe in the unknown. The heavy curtains touched, forbid curious gazes to fall upon the woman dressed in the tattered and torn garment. The heavy coat caring the smell of alcohol and cigarettes protected her skin painted in wicked colours, deep shades of purple and blue with a hint of greenness, a deep tone of algae swaying in the depths of a raging torrent running wild across the emotionless face of the mountain.
Closing her eyes, Y/N rested her head on the pillow, leaned back, busied herself with her fingers, and played with the hem of the holey fabric covering her frame sparsely. The urge to cover herself, hide to aching wounds, the marks of a fight with the too large coat, at least a dozen of sizes, did not exist. Gazing at the door, she wondered if it was a wicked dream, but steps echoed and Y/N remembered Alfie left to fetch a first aid kit from another room.
Realisation hit her like a wave, a ripple swallowing ships, lonely islands, knew she was safe, and calmness flooded her body and mind. Not a word, not a single prayer, nor a complaint crossed her lips. Memories had fled, failed to overcome the high walls of defence protecting the building, failed to push open the door and shatter the windows.
Floral vines adorned the teapot on the round, dark wooden table. The calmness of his eyes healed the wounds. A friendly, almost encouraging smile graced his lips, partly shielded by the thick, dark beard. The scent of lavender rose and banished the stench of copper lingering in the air into oblivion. Steam was rising from the bowl in his possession. Swiftly, Alfie entered the room and attempted to prevent the warm liquid from spilling over the edge. The dimmed light caressed his features, but fear was beyond the layer of confidence, but Y/N couldn't see it, the fear, agony, and pain.
The hat was missing, revealing tousled hair in the same shade as the freshly trimmed beard. The top buttons of the button-down were undone, like the buttons of the waistcoat. He placed the white ceramic bowl with a golden frame on the table next to the teacup, followed by a bottle of transparent liquid. Alfie didn't push her, didn't ask questions, assumed what had happened, had read the answer her misty eyes carried. He laid the blanket slung around his shoulder on the floor within reach, followed by the first aid kit he had dropped a few times, and dragged the table back. Striding towards the sofa, he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up until the material was above his elbows, accentuating his masculine upper arms. Critically, Y/N eyed him, had heard too much about the ruthless man, but she doubted the accuracy of the unforgettable tales laced in terror, questioned the words, and thought the man was not the feared Alfie Solomons.
Desperately Y/N searched for a way out. Her eyes widened in horror, stared at the man standing right in front of her on the red carpet with the fine black embroidery. His hands were clean, clear of dirt, the marks of a struggle. He dropped to his knees. Flinching she leaned back, pressed herself against the soft material, but she couldn’t escape him. Tears were clouding her vision. He was too close far too close and he placed his hand on her knee, touched her skin in a reassuring gesture, telling her to calm down, not to fear, that everything was alright.
"May I?" Alfie asked.
An answer was needless, superfluous, wouldn't allow Y/N to close her eyes to find a moment of peace with untreated wounds.
"You are safe, Y/N/N. I won't call anyone; you can stay as long as you need to heal but it's a matter of time before your husband will search for you and find you.” he breathed.
Bitterly Y/N laughed, was applying pressure to her aching side, didn’t trust her ears, couldn't believe what the man was saying.
"You foolishly think Thomas is going to set out to find me? Why would he do that?", "He's your husband," Alfie said.
The words sounded plausible, the most obvious thing in the world but not to Y/N. Ashamed, she lowered her gaze and listened to her thoughts, but she couldn’t pronounce the words laying heavy on her heart, unable to say how unhappy she was in the marriage, was longing for love, yearning for someone to let her know she was loved and missed. Alfie wrapped himself in silence, said nothing, watched over the breaking woman, accepted the silence, and moved closer to the edge of the sofa. Wordless the man turned, faced the table, set the ceramic bowl on the floor beside him and dipped a cloth into the warm water.
"I'm going to undress you." the words shattered the silence.
A cold shiver travelled down her spine and shadows formed into faceless creatures, but they all were grinning, laughing, and dancing around the fire feasting on the wood.
"Do you think you can undress? If not, I can help you.” Alfie continued.
She did not answer, couldn't, and pressed her lips into a fine line.
"I wouldn't dare touch you." he clarified.
Faint rivers of crimson escaped the freshly torn open wounds of her lower lip. Self-hatred pulled her into the depths of the sea, hating herself for not being able to speak, for not telling him to finally rip the soaked dress from her skin, free her from her suffering, needed to be naked, didn’t need to be reminded of how weak she was, was a mere woman incapable of defending herself like a boxer facing the opponent in the ring.
"And not because you are the Shelby's wife, but you are a woman and should be treated as one. I will treat your wounds. Afterwards, I will cook you some food and tea. In the meantime, when you eat, I will set up a bedroom. And as I said, you can stay as long as you need." Alfie explained in a calm voice.
Water dripped and darkened the carpet.
“I'll wash the dirt and grime off your body and I have got you a shirt and a pair of trousers,” he added.
Patiently the man waited, remained calm, and clasped his hands in a praying gesture on his lap. Y/N consented, had never exposed herself, and he sensed it. She stiffened under his gentle touch. His fingers were rough, seemed as if he had worked his entire life in the depths of the woodland. Like a doll on a thread, a marionette Y/N rose as Alfie demanded it. Heat rose into her cheeks. The clock was ticking. With a thud, the heavy cloak fell from her shoulders and shaped into a pile next to the dark-coloured sofa. The fabric tore. Coldness feasted on her flesh. He undid the brown buttons of the dress, loosened the belt around her waist, and stepped back. Slowly, as if he feared the answer, his eyes slid over her battered body and almost shyly, as if he had never touched a woman, he freed her arms from the dress. Her breasts and intimate area were covered.
The light was not dim enough to make them unseen, to erase them. Like an eagle circling the fields in search of food, he followed the strange trail across her torso, witnessed wounds worse than discolouration's and huffed angered as his gaze fell on the marks around her calves. Marks coiled around her arms, telling a story, letting him know she was being held against her will, forced to stay. Her hands were maltreated, lightly stained with blood, had tried to defend herself from the voracious hands of men. His warm breath brushed her skin. Narrowing her eyes, she remembered who stood before her, but she did not trust the words resounding in her head like a melody. From his trouser pocket, he took out a hair tie, pushed her hair, framing her face like a heavy iron curtain away, and tied it into a loose ponytail at the back of her head. Wordlessly, Alfie pushed her down onto the sofa and lowered himself in front of Y/N, knelt, and inspected the wounds her body bore. He turned to the table and filled two glasses with the very strong liquid. The stench of alcohol filled her nostrils. Y/N wrinkled her face in contempt and turned away.
"Here drink,” Alfie said.
Brows touched.
"Seriously, it will help you, believe me," he explained.
Hesitantly, Y/N accepted the glass and guided it to her mouth, but before she could put her lips on the glass, she gagged. Disgusted Y/N turned away, had to collect herself, and she gathered strength, and emptied it. Wrinkles deepened. The taste befuddled her senses, filling her mouth and numbing her tongue. Goosebumps spread over her body like an unstoppable wave. Alfie dipped his fingers into the warm water in the white bowl with the golden frame, took out the cloth, wrung it out and carefully washed her right leg, removing the mud glued to her feet.
"Do you want to talk about it?", "You don't have to talk about it, but it will do you good," Alfie interjected, sliding his hand carefully over her leg.
Washing the traces of the fight away, he apologised, raised the cloth as he accidentally brushed across open flesh. Gingerly the cloth glided over her body, swept over her calf, but no lust lingered in his eyes, filled with anger and worry, and the very first thing he planned to do during the early hours of the next day was to figure out who had caused the harm.
"What about your husband?" Alfie asked.
"If he were my loving husband, then I wouldn't lie on your sofa, covered in blood and grime. He would take care of me instead of you." Y/N whispered, not trusting her voice.
The wood worked, creaked, and sang out.
"What are you going to do when he calls you?", "What should I do?" he asked.
Pain welled in her eyes, smiled faintly, remembered the unforgettable, the days when he didn't even dignify her with a glance and the touches cold as the unforgiving north, icy and emotionless.
"Nothing, don't answer the call or say you don't know where I am. I'm sure you'll find a good lie. I can't and don't want to see him." Y/N replied gruffly, couldn't imagine meeting her husband's eyes even in her wildest dreams, knew she would collapse like a house of cards under his stern gaze.
"Why?" Alfie questioned. "If I had a wife, I would search every house, every forest, and not stop until I find her," Alfie replied.
She was speechless, swallowed, but couldn't swallow the ever-growing lump in her throat.
"He doesn't love me. He forgot. I waited. He promised to pick me up, but he wasn't there. Thomas was not there to protect me.", "Do you love him?" he questioned.
Do I love him, Y/N wondered.
"Yes, but he makes it impossible for me to love him. I fell for him when we met. He looked at me differently than the other men who asked my father for my hand in marriage. They all wanted one thing, money, power, wealth, a name many people know, but with him, I had the feeling that he loves me. Me and not the money and all that goes with it, because a Shelby doesn't need even more money. He has everything, money, wealth, all these things a heart desires, and I thought he loved me, but I'm sure he didn't even notice that I am not home, that I disappeared." Y/N breathed.
She was not ashamed of the tears, let them fall.
"And it's only a matter of time before he finds someone else, someone who can give him what I can't, someone who can satisfy his cravings. Bless him with an heir. A good-looking woman worthy to rule at his side over his empire." Y/N couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't force herself to end it.
"Why would I do such a thing?" a dark voice asked.
Water dripped down, slid down the darkened coat. The shirt was soaked. The strands of dark hair, dark as nightfall, stuck to his face. His eyes were bloodshot. How long Thomas had been standing in the doorway, Y/N did not know, but she sensed he had heard everything, all the words, the fears and concerns loud and clear, but she was not ashamed of the words escaping her heart.
TagList:
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#peaky blinders imagine#cillian x reader#michael gray#michael gray x reader#thomas shelby x you#peaky fookin blinders#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby fluff#thomas shelby x y/n#arthur shelby#alfie solomons x you#john shelby x reader#arthur shelby x reader#thomas shelby#peaky blinders fanfic#thomas shelby x reader#john shelby#tommy shelby fic#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby one shot#grace burgess#thomas shelby imagine#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder headcanon#cillian murphy imagine
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Alfie Solomons, the baker and storyteller
✨A small blurb and moodboard I got the inspiration for @justrainandcoffee 2nd Alfieversary 🥰♥️
Alfie’s eyes were fixed in the newspaper before him. Adjusting the glasses perched on his nose, but he noticed the door opening.
“Isn’t it past your bed time little dove?”
“Hello Daddy.” Allie greeted her father with a chuckle when he groaned while lifting her up to place her on his lap.
“Hello you.” His expression quickly softened at the sight of her.
“Mommy didn’t read me a story and I’m hungry.”
“She was in a hurry for her ladies night out.”
“What’s that?” She asked with interest.
“Just a bunch of ladies gathering.” Alfie rubbed his beard. He shook his head slightly at the thought of Rose getting together with Y/N Shelby and the rest of the female gang -more dangerous than the whole gánsters to be honest-, but it was the time of the week she got to enjoy a night out with friends to talk of whatever the ladies talked. “What about we bake some cookies?”
The way his little girl’s face lit up, it told Alfie he had made the right choice.
Allie jumped from his lap excitedly and rushed towards the kitchen. And he followed the girl knowing he’d do anything to make her smile like that.
After showing his beloved Allie all about baking, once it was ready, they enjoyed the most delicious batch of cookies together back in the living room next to Cyril while Alfie read the light of his life a book.
When Rose arrived almost close to midnight and she found the scene before her eyes, she found Alfie moving his forefinger close to his lips so Allie wouldn’t wake up. It melted her heart and turned her into a puddle.
Stretching her arm, she grabbed one of the cookies and silently made an applause sign for him, letting Alfie know the cookies were good.
Stepping closer, Rose brushed Allie’s hair away from her face and giving her husband a peck on the lips, she whispered:
“Why don’t you take her to bed so I can spill all the gossip?”
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Breakfast (Dad!Alfie Solomons & oc!daughter)
Or how babies are made, by Alfie Solomons.
Masterlist
Summary: "Yeah. That's not how it works, sweetheart." His daughter had a play date that it was cancelled because her friend's sister got pregnant and the house was a chaos. Allie says that it's because a boy kissed the girl. "Then, how it works?", she asked. Alfie and an answer with no filters.
Warnings: Alfie.
Words: 700 || While I'm dealing with my other fic, I give you this blurb. I have two more fics already written but both are equally angst (lately I only wrote angst 🫣) I wanted to change it a bit.
1931
The house in Margate was silent. Rose was in the Parliament and he thought his daughter was in her friends' house but when he entered the living room he found the girl, seven years old, sat there reading a book.
"Allie? Don't ya have a play date at Daisy's house?"
"I did. But her mom called and told me that it wasn't a good time. Their eldest daughter, Claire, is pregnant."
"Oh fuck. How old is the girl?"
"Sixteen."
"A fucking kid! I know your friend's father, he's going to kill the boy who impregnated the daughter."
"Yeah," Allie confirmed "he's not happy."
"I couldn't be happy either."
"Don't worry, dad, I'm not going to let any boy to kiss me. I don't want a baby."
Alfie, already sitting in his armchair, looked at his daughter. "Ya think this girl, Claire, got pregnant because she kissed a boy?"
"Well, yes! Daisy told me that they were kissing all the time."
"That's not how it works, Allie."
Allie left the book aside and tilted her head. "What do you mean? Then how it works?"
"Well…" Alfie cleared his throat. It was good that his wife wasn't there at the time. He never believed in sugar-coating the answers. A direct question deserved a direct answer. "First you need a woman and a man."
"In love, I know the tale."
"Not necessarily in love, sweetheart. If they're, even better but it's not always the case. Hope you know this a world full of bastards… in both senses of the world."
She, the girl, was a bastard herself because the biological father abandoned her mother way before she was adopted by the Solomons. But the girl already knew that.
"Men and a women," continued Alfie "they're physically different. Men have something called penis… it's like a sausage."
"Like a sausage?" Allie raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. And you know your body, Allie. All women have the same body under their clothes. Well, when a man is really happy to see a woman his sausage is happy too. And it will let his owner know that. If the woman agrees, she will be happy to see his sausage if not, then I'm sorry but the man can't do something about it. Well, he can, but that's another story. This is important, Allie, a woman ALWAYS must consent to see it ok? Always, right?. Well, then the man and the woman go to the bed… or the sofa, or the wall or fuckin' wherever. And the man…"
What followed was a detailed explanation of what happened with the man and the woman while they were together. He even used his hands to help himself to explain it.
Allie wasn't impressed. In fact, she found it quite boring, repetitive and complicated. She thought that a baby product of just a kiss was way better that all of that. And more romantic. Why the hell it was so hard to make a baby?
"… It's called semen. It's like milk."
"I thought only women can produce milk." Allie studied her father, thinking he was joking to her.
"It's not that kind of milk, Allie. Its only use is to help babies to be created. And that's it. Nine months later you have a baby. Sometimes one or two months earlier but it's not the rule."
"It's not interesting. It's boring as fuck, dad. That much scandal for a breakfast." Allie furrowed her brow, just like Alfie "I'd be playing with Daisy if it wasn't for Claire and her stupid boyfriend."
"Breakfast?" Interrupted Alfie. "What breakfast?"
"You described everything as a breakfast. Milk, eggs, sausages… what it's that if not a breakfast?"
Alfie laughed out loud. He just finished to explain his daughter the biological process of making a baby and Allie just compared it with a breakfast… Undoubtedly she was a kid.
Two days later, Rose saw a letter on the table. It was from school explaining that Allie had received a notification because of her behaviour. Apparently her daughter had been talking openly about sex in the classroom. Specifically about babies. Rose left the letter on the table again and pinched her nose, sighing.
"ALFIEE!"
#alfie solomons#alfie x rose#alfie solomons x oc#alfie solomons x ofc#tom hardy#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x oc#alfie solomons x reader
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𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓀’𝓈 𝒳𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎, 6th December
In the middle of his chaos there was her, there had always been her, the only flower that grown in lifeless soil. As soft and enchanting as she was, Rose Solomons had been standing by his side in raging storms and murderous tempests, keeping him from breaking so many times Alfie had lost count. Offering her a peaceful life near the beach was the least could do. And each time he looked at their daughter playing with the sand, her mother’s hat on her head and a smile beaming, he knew he was the luckiest man on earth.
To celebrate Christmas I’ve been using my free time lately to create 23 gifts that are already programmed, most of them for my beloved Peaky blinders mutuals. I’ll post one gift per day until Christmas, so stay tuned in because yours are coming. You just don’t know when! 🎄-I’m a day late with this one but I was working all day and evening, so I’ll post two gifts today. -
#Peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagines#Sharksmas#Alfie Solomons#Tom Hardy#Alfie Solomons x OC#Rose Coldwell
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Plus One
Inspired by @justrainandcoffee Wandering Jew series.
Aka an excuse to write rolfie and teva in the same universe
Gif by @crackshipandcrap
(2019)
“Who won’t text you back?” Eva asked noticing the rather forlorn way he looks at the message.
She knows he’d been seeing someone, and yet while he knows about her disastrous sex life, Eva doesn’t know jack shit about his beyond Grace the Barmaid, Lizzie and several other women Eva may or may not have also fucked.
“None of your business, Smith.” Tommy glared and she pouted.
It had been a bad idea to ask her out again, the drinks had been fine and she thought him a gentleman when he didn’t take her up on her suggestion of staying over at her place.
“I told you about my ex marrying my cousin and my ex who fucked all my friends, c’mon, Tommy tell me who’s the broad who’s place I need to trash.” The brunette reminds him.
They were friends now.
Eva was enjoying being single after her ex decided Franco was who she loved and Tommy had been in a relationship with someone whom he had hardly ever mentioned.
“Not a she, and no, you’re not committing a felony for me, Evie, but thanks anyway.” He said with annoyance and shoved his phone into his pocket.
“Ah so we’re more similar than I thought. So your guy broke up with you, then?” the witchy young woman guessed correctly going by the stony look he gets as he orders another drink.
“Yes, and before you ask. It was me not him.” The dark haired man loathed speaking about things like these and yet he willingly shared this with her, progress. “Won’t forgive me and I know you’d agree with him.”
“You got me there. If it makes you feel better, I’ve been there before. At least your ex is still alive to hate you.” Eva regrets her words the moment she said them.
She never told anyone about Leopoldo, nor how him learning about her and Antonia seeing each other behind his back led to the car accident that killed him.
She’d been displayed as his grieving girlfriend. Given flowers, comforted along with his family and crushed by the guilt of knowing she hadn’t truly loved him.
“Lucky me.” He grumbled bitterly and raised his whiskey in a toast. “Here’s to our shit luck, Evie.”
It is spring 2020 when Tommy and Eva elope to Cancun and welcome the pandemic as the newly elected representative of the Birmingham Hall Green.
Their exes remain unnamed and neither Shelby aware of how little the world is.
Its 2023 when two identical invitations arrived addressed to the both of them.
“I didn’t know you knew Alfie as well.” Eva mentions as he played with little Gabriel on the rug.
The look on his face says it all.
Alfie was the guy who dumped him for being a cheating asshole.
Same Alfie who was Aunt Florence’s baby brother.
There had been no malicious intent.
This is what Rose tells herself when Alfie learns she hadn’t removed Tommy Shelby from the guest list.
She had met him in passing once, when she found more than just a nice holiday at the Wandering Jew.
Then she came to know Tommy had been the heartless bastard who’d broken Alfie’s heart. Having disliked him from the start, knowing how awful he was had made her hate him.
Now she was seeing him in the profile picture of Alfie’s ‘niece’ Eva Smith-Riley who had sent her congratulations through Instagram.
Rose had met through zoom calls and FaceTime and once in person when Eva came to give them her good news.
‘Is it okay if I bring my plus one?’
It was then Rose had seen who the man she was married to was.
Then the bride to be did what everyone has done since the invention of social media has done.
She looked at every single photo of him in Eva’s profile, Facebook page, twitter and some tabloids that sprung up under her name.
They’d met at Birmingham U, they dated for approximately five months, married on the first of March in a lovely beach in Mexico and had a baby named Gabriel.
“Are you jealous of Evie, sweetheart?” Alfie Asks seeing the picture of Eva hanging out with some celebrity at a charity thing.
“No. It’s not that. Why didn’t you tell me Tommy’s her husband?” she shows him the next picture, Tommy Shelby smiling through the pain holding his one-year-old son next to Eva.
After the way he fucked things up with Alfie, Tommy resolved himself to be a better man.
“Because I didn’t know about it until she married the fucker and then I didn’t want to ruin things for her. He’s changed, or so it seems.” the burly man admitted knowing the hell that was going to be unleashed.
“For a man in love he looks like he’s in agony.” Rose points out thinking the worst of Thomas Shelby.
“That’s just his face, love, he can’t help it.”
And he had, not once has he strayed and while that took much work on his account, it had rewarded him with a woman he loves and a family he hadn’t thought he could have.
He should’ve told her about his past with Alfie, but he was afraid, not sure of what, but he was afraid.
Eva wouldn’t have judged him about it, not after she told him about Leopoldo, but Alfie was her friend.
And yet here they lay beside each other as the baby slept curled up between them.
“You should’ve told me, Tom.” She’s not angry, there is a hint of disappointment about her, but nothing has changed as he feared he would. “We don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.”
“He’s your friend, sort of relative too. I don’t want you to miss it on account of me.” He could invent an excuse to stay, claim Gabe is too little for a sitter.
“Alfie is your friend too, we’ll hire a sitter for Gabe and you will come with me. I already told Alfie I’d be bringing you anyways.” She points out reaching to caress his face, a contrast to his words.
December rolls around, and Tommy finds himself fixing the black satin bowtie that matches Eva’s black evening gown exactly.
“Are you ready?” she asks softly, knowing how big of a step this is for him.
“Yeah, ready as I’ll ever be, Mrs. Shelby.”
#eva smith shelby#tommy shelby x oc#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby x oc#evacore#peaky blinders fanfiction#alfie x rose#tommy shelby x alfie solomons#alfie solomons x ofc#rose coldwell#wandering jew series
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At least there’s a sunset…
Alfie and Rose Solomons decide to take a trip into the mountains during the height of winter. Snow starts to fall just as they reach the cabin they’re renting. Come the end of the day, they were practically snowed in. But at least a beautiful sunset came along to tell them that their trip would all work out just fine.
———
@raincoffeeandfandoms .. I’m sorry it’s a bit late, but I just had to make a moodboard to celebrate your beautiful OC’s 6 month anniversary, Flor! I chose both watching the sunset and getting snowed in for inspo here - I hope you like how it came out! It could be either in modern or canon times. Thank you for sharing this lovely OC with us! 💕
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons moodboard#alfie x rose#rose solomons#peaky blinders#peaky blinders moodboard#k makes moodboards
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Breakfast in Margate (Alfie Solomons x Reader)
Genre: Romance, Fluff, Modern AU
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader
Word count: 3.2K
Warnings: A grumpy Papa Solomons (yes, that is a warning) and a whole lot of tooth-rotting domestic fluff
Summary:
Mornings aren’t always easy. For example, it’s terribly difficult to not be caught making breakfast for your fiancé, a workaholic who always takes the task upon himself.
However, what makes it harder today is the fact he loathes food made with recipes found online. Fortunately for you, though, Alfie isn’t the only one who’s good at playing games when he wants to push his own agenda.
Especially those that concern a sweet reward.
Author’s note: I've kept Alfie's adherence to his Jewish heritage quite loose. Nevertheless, I hope that the aspects I did incorporate in this work have been done so properly. If not, let me know and please don't hesitate to educate me (in a polite and respectful manner) because I love learning about different cultures and religions.
Tag List: @potter-solomons @zablife @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @solomons-finest-rum @hecatemoon87 @babaohhhriley
TH Masterlist
Mornings like this are rare, these quiet moments unbroken by the usual ruckus in the kitchen. Now, it’s solely my bare feet on the wooden floor and the waves crashing onto the shore. No clanging of metal, no muttered curses in Yiddish or Russian, nor the scent of freshly brewed coffee.
In the living room, Cyril lays in front of the hearth. The first rays of sunshine fall over him like a warm natural blanket, highlighting the ginger undertone in his fur. One of the many features he shares with his owner.
As soon as I pass by, he lifts his head, tilts it in wonder, and lets out a low bark. After all, it’s Alfie who’s more often than not the first one to wander around the house at the crack of dawn. That is, if he’s slept at all. However, recently he’s started properly adhering to the Shabbat. Although, as much as he allows himself to because if Alfie Solomons is one thing, it’s mighty stubborn. Moreover, he’s an incurable workaholic. As hard as he works at The Old Rum House Bakery to let the business flourish and maintain his position as the fearsome Mad Baker of Camden, just as much effort does he put into our relationship. In fact, it’s not only towards Cyril and I his attention goes, but also to the house.
Our home.
Alfie has become a lot more domestic since we started dating, shortly after meeting one another on a train to London. Disregarding his tendency to walk around naked, he cooks and cleans, assuring me time and again I don’t have to help. When we go out for our weekly grocery trip, no matter how tired he is, he carries the bags to the car so that I don’t have to. Neither do I have to put away what we got, more often than not shipped off to the luxurious red sofa in the living room with a cup of coffee or tea to pair with whatever he’s baked at night.
Nevertheless, regardless of the otherwise very loose relationship with his heritage, Ollie and I are glad he’s at least taking a day off in the week to rest up. The bakery has recently started taking its toll thanks to an influx in customers, which means extra stock as well as staff is needed. In turn, this means more part-timers to train and more admin work. In other words, everyone has to pick up the pace to meet the current demand. Such is the power of marketing, especially on social media. Alfie is loath to admit it, but Ollie and I can tell he’s secretly grateful we managed to convince him to let us handle the bakery’s socials.
We don’t get cinnamon buns on Monday anymore, though.
I stop in my tracks, turn to Cyril, and put a finger to my lips. “I know, love, but Papa is still sleeping. It’s finally Mama’s turn to make breakfast again.”
Seldom do I get the chance to experiment in the kitchen, let alone try a recipe I’ve found online. Or worse, via Youtube or Instagram. Now, that’s usually enough to make Alfie bristle. Nevertheless, mention the word ‘viral’ and a scowl will twist his lips.
Sometimes I wonder whether or not Alfie and Cyril are the same person because he lowers his head onto his paws and lets out a deep sigh that sounds like sarcastic resignation.
Thanks for the faith, buddy.
“It’s gonna be okay. No fire in the pan this time, I promise. How about we go stretch our legs after brekkie, hm? That sound good?”
Cyril huffs in agreement and closes his eyes, back to enjoying his luxurious pillow.
We bought it for him when we went antique shop hopping in London last week. Although, perhaps it’s better to say I bought it after convincing my grumpy companion we should occasionally pamper our adopted four-legged child and I couldn’t fix his old pillow anymore. Of course I could, but I was more than done with constantly needing to fix the seams and re-stuff the thing.
Borough Market has become a regular stop on our weekly grocery trip, mostly because I used the splendidly efficient strategy of batting my lashes and pouting. Artisan goods and fresh produce can be luxuries, something to only occasionally splurge on. After all, why spend a fortune when there is a cheaper alternative that’s just as good?
Nonetheless, Alfie developed a taste for supporting local businesses soon after our first visit. To some he has proposed contracts, offering them a position as a supplier to his bakery. Granted their goods are kosher, of course.
Yesterday, we got some wonderful fresh bright yellow bananas, eggs from a local farm, and oat flour from a mill a little ways away from London. Alfie thought little of it when I plonked them triumphantly in our grocery bag, having occupied himself with the fresh stock one of the florists was setting out. I glance at the colourful bouquet of wildflowers on the table and for a moment I’m back to him holding out to me, face full of the warm tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the stern and unpredictable persona he portrays when I’m not there.
Right then and there, he wasn’t The Mad Baker of Camden, the fearsome King who rules the borough.
He was a sweet and caring gentleman.
Simply Alfie Solomons.
Nevertheless, in spite of these small moments of tenderness, he can still be awfully grumpy.
Especially if he hasn’t had his coffee.
“Mornin’, dove.” Two big warm hands glide over my hips towards my lower stomach. Those very same palms pull me flush against a naked chest grown soft with neglected muscle, slightly clammy with the remainder of last night’s late summer heat. Alfie presses his lips to the side of my neck and hums, tightening the embrace as he does so. The sonorous trill in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and rekindles a familiar heat. Nonetheless, the way he leans on me betrays he isn’t entirely awake yet. The slight slur in his words serve to confirm the lingering drowsiness, sounding like they’ve been pulled out of bed only moments before too. “That shirt looks good on you.”
“I’m glad you think so because you’re not getting it back any time soon.” I briefly stop mixing the batter to scratch his beard. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch as a content sigh escapes him. “You slept in.”
“Still woke up to an empty spot, though. If you want me to sleep more, yeah, which you know I find a terrible waste of time, I’ll need my wife to ‘old.”
I pat his hands to placate him. The thin gold band inlaid with a modest diamond around my ring finger matches his. I had thought Alfie would pick something elaborate for himself, but instead he chose a simple thick gold ring and got it engraved. It says: Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li; I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. “Don’t get hasty. We aren’t married yet.”
“Let’s just go to the courthouse today.’’ He slips his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt I stole from him, letting them rest on my stomach after a brief caress. It’s a gesture he often makes nowadays. ‘‘Sign the paper, right, and be done with it so the desk eaters are ‘appy. We can always celebrate it later. Throw a party as big as the whole of bloody Camden, like a proper coronation ceremony to celebrate our union.”
“Tempting as it is, I’ll have to refuse. Besides, it's Shabbat today and you need to take a break. I promise I can wait a little while longer to officially become Mrs Solomons.”
“You ‘ave been from the start, Y/N. I don’t need a ring to call you my wife. ‘Sides, you well know ‘ow I am. Which reminds me, breakfast is my job, innit?” A wary tone creeps into his voice as he leans away to check what’s in the mixing bowl. “Is that edible?”
“It will be,” I say, continuing to mix the ingredients until they’re well combined.
“I’m not eatin’ that goo. Looks fucking awful, that stuff.”
“It’s healthy goo! Uses the bananas, eggs, and flour we got yesterday.”
Nose scrunched, Alfie peers at me. “Oh, so yesterday was all a little scam to get me to eat whatever this is?”
“You aren’t the only one who can lie. Although, it’s not really a lie, is it? More like a half-truth.’’ I shrug. ‘‘I simply never told you my plan. Would ruin the surprise.”
“Which is?”
“Baked oats that taste like cake. They just haven’t been baked yet.”
“Where’d you get the recipe?”
“YouTube…”
He groans, wide awake now that the conversation has taken a turn towards a point of absolute irritation. “Fucking ‘ell, dove, ‘ow many times ‘aven’t I told you not every recipe on social media-’’
“Don’t judge before you’ve tried it.” I put the spatula down, turn around in his embrace and steal a kiss off of his lips. “Said so yourself, didn’t you?”
“Don’t use my words against me.”
“Oh, I will. If only to keep things fair. Have a little faith in me. It’ll be fine.”
I hope.
A warning finger raised and pointed at me, he leans in until our faces are mere inches apart. “Fine. But I’m gonna make us coffee, right, so we’ll at least ‘ave something to get us fucking started.”
I can’t suppress a chuckle at the grumpy gesture. “Sure.”
The threat turns into tenderness when he cups my cheek. His palm has grown rough with the hours spent at the bakery, proof of his hard work. Tenderly, he presses his lips to mine. “Ikh hab dir lib.”
“I know.” To show I accept his usual indirect apology for his bad mood and avoid coming across as being cross with me, I run my fingers along his jaw. “I love you too.”
Resting his forehead against mine, he nudges my nose with his. “Mhm.”
“Why don’t you take Cyril for a brief walk, eh? The oats have to bake for twenty-five minutes anyway.”
“We can take ‘im on a walk later together. I’ll go set the table.”
“First put on a pair of knickers.”
“No.”
“You know the rules, Alfie. No buns on the chairs during summer.”
“I ain’t sweating.”
“Not yet.”
“Maybe you’re the one who isn’t.”
I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smug smirk threatening to break out. “That so?”
“Yeah,” he drawls, “first we’ll ‘ave coffee, right, ‘cause otherwise neither of us functions. Now, ‘ow about after we’ve started the day proper I’ll fuck you like last night, hm?”
Until I black out.
The prospect of it mixes with memories of last night. Sea blue eyes, usually so steady and full of hidden temperaments, barely able to refrain from going cross-eyed. The fight with the stutter in his hips, gradually growing closer to the edge of pleasure but also exhaustion. Big hands reminiscent of wolf paws gripping the headboard for support while I was already lost in a satisfied delirium. The absent-minded glance to the bruises on my thighs adds to the steadily growing heat between my legs, perversely longing for more.
For him.
Nevertheless, the haze clears in an instant with a single sharp thought. I take a step back, crossing my arms as I search his expression for confirmation. However, as usually is the case, Alfie keeps his true motifs to himself. And this time, behind a mask he tends to put on when he wants something from me in particular. “So you can make breakfast. That’s what you’re getting at, aren’t you?”
“No,” he purrs, stealing a kiss as soon as he has bridged the distance between us, “not at all, dove. I just want my wife. I wanna make love to you.” We softly start to sway, slowly making our way out of the kitchen. “Let me make love to you.”
We come to a halt on the threshold. “Later. After you put on a pair of knickers and we’ve eaten.”
He blinks, the cheeky smile grown stiff. I can feel his muscles tense, unconsciously causing him to grip me a bit tighter than before. “But-’’
“Knickers, Alfie.”
“One round.”
“Alfred Solomons Jr, knickers. Right now.”
The use of his full name provokes a menacing snarl, the kind which is usually preserved for those who cross him. “Those oats better be fucking worth it, yeah, ‘cause otherwise you’re payin’ for lunch.”
I trace his cock, the skin hot and hardening beneath my fingertips with every sharp intake of breath. Perhaps this game won’t go on for as long as it usually does before he loses control. “Somehow I don’t think I will.”
He roughly grips my face, the thrill of every low-voiced word against my lips travelling throughout my body. “I ought to do somethin’ ‘bout that attitude of yours. Big fucks small, Y/N, always.”
Game over.
Except for the one card I have left to play.
“I know,” I wrap my hand around him, barely able to grip him properly, “but first some knickers. Please, Papa?”
“Clever bird, ain’t ya?” He growls into the kiss when I lightly squeeze him and let go. “Maybe I should carry out my own personal form of stigmata later. Add to those pretty bruises.”
Like snow in the spring sun, his attitude melts and changes. Alfie gently nudges my cheek and makes for the bedroom. A few moments later, he returns and starts setting the table while I pour the batter in the ramekins and plop them in the oven.
Despite the promise to make coffee, I reach for the cupboard to grab a mug. After all, old habits die hard.
Nevertheless, I find myself cut off by a hand that gently lowers mine, away from the handle.
“I said I’ll make us coffee,” Alfie grumbles. “Let Papa Solomons do ‘is job, yeah. Go sit in the livin’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”
I nod at the baking aftermath in the sink. “I got some washing up to do.”
“Nah, that can wait. Coffee and, ‘opefully, food first.” He places his hands on my shoulders and kindly coerces me out of the kitchen. “Go on.”
I let him guide me, feigning defiance by pouting. Yet, the act quickly falls apart with a lighthearted giggle. I suppose I still have a lot to learn from him concerning the art of masks. “Alright.”
Soon after he joins me on the porch, where I’ve settled down with Cyril to enjoy the salt air. The beach across the street is still empty, devoid of the plethora of towels. The breeze is silent, not yet filled with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.
These hours are ours.
This is our Margate.
“'Ere you go, love.” Alfie hands me a steaming mug of cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, the milk soft and foamy, before he sits down next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as I take a sip. “Nice, innit?”
“Mhm.”
Thus we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and each other’s company. Cyril has started to doze off, although he tries in vain to keep his eyes open. One glance to the side tells of Alfie fighting the same battle. Occasionally he pulls a face or lifts his hand to stifle a yawn. It’s strangely funny to watch him continue to take a sip afterwards, a small gesture of hope. Surely he should be readily awake before his cup is empty.
Because sleeping isn’t an option.
He’s tired of the nightmares.
The faint sound of the oven going off disturbs the domestic bliss.
Alfie groans as struggles to get up, glad to have my arm to use as support while he pulls himself to his feet. I say nothing, knowing full well how his sciatica influences his mood.
And it’s already rotten enough in the morning.
As Alfie washes his hands, I get the baked oats out of the oven and place them on the plates. Meanwhile, Alfie warms up a few slices of babka and the challah bread we made together yesterday. “Just so we ‘ave somethin’.”
He sits down while I wash my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see him poke the oats with his fork. “It’s kosher?”
“It is,” I say, drying my hands before I sit down across from him. “Shall I go first?”
“Very funny.” He scoops a bit of the oats onto his fork and puts it in his mouth. His brows knit together, contemplating the taste.
“And? Do you like it?”
Remaining silent and gaze fixed on the ramekin, he pokes his oats again.
I swallow hard, my excitement crushed under the stones of dread. A nagging voice in the back of my head feeds into the fear of his judgement. Funny how one connects their self worth to food. Then again, it was that which started our relationship. A cup of coffee, a slice of babka, and a slice of plant-based carrot cake. Back then, though, my stomach didn’t quiver this badly nor did my ribs feel like they were caged in a very tight-strung corset. “You don’t.”
“Dove,” he begins, but doesn’t continue.
Not until after he’s had another bite. “It’s good.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or simply trying to appease me.”
“I’m serious.”
“You are?”
“I am,’’ he says, raising his voice ever so slightly in spite of the effort to keep it even. Alfie finally meets my gaze and I can tell he’s being sincere regardless of the way he accusingly waves his fork at me. ‘‘But I still don’t like 'ow you got this off of the internet. ‘Ow many times ‘aven’t I told you, hm? You should know better by now.”
I chuckle as I at last taste the baked oats myself. They’re chocolatey with a subtle banana undertone, which is warmed by the cinnamon. “I gotta find new recipes somehow.”
“There are cookbooks.”
“Too limited and they take up too much space.” While nibbling on a piece of challah bread, I take a sip of coffee. “Can I make this more often?”
“It does taste like cake,” he reluctantly admits, spooning up another bite. “Yes, you can.”
“Why do you make it sound like there’s a condition?”
“You can make these oats, yeah, if I get to serve you something sweet in return.”
Something not to be had in the kitchen.
‘‘Deal,’’ I lean in, biting my lip as I play my final card, ‘‘Papa.’’
Alfie clenches his fork upon hearing his favourite nickname, the title he is secretly proud of. A dark haze clouds his eyes, the gloss in them highlighted by the morning sun. The smirk on his lips has evened out, his jaw tightened with the effort to practise self-restraint.
Game over.
I won.
And the prize is something sweet with lots of cream.
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons imagine#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#alfie solomons x reader
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Back To The 20's - Pt 1
Rose & Alfie Solomons belong to @raincoffeeandfandoms
Annabella has been alive a very long time, see what she was getting up to in the 1920's in England....
“Are you quite ready? With all that primping one might think you are a woman.” A smirk formed on Anna’s lips as she looked Jasper up and down. Oh, she did love to tease him so. The handsome demon was fun to tease, and he was always one to return the favor later.
His head turning slowly from judging his visage in the mirror, Jasper’s brilliant blues met an almost identical set on Annabella’s gorgeous’s face as his head tipped to the side, his lips pursing slightly. “Now darling, how many times have we been delayed as I waited on your gorgeous ass to finish getting ready?” One dark blonde brow raising in amusement. Had anyone else dared to poke at him, he might have become annoyed, but the attractive blonde teasing him currently would get a pass. He absolutely adored her, for many reasons.
“The difference, love, is that I *AM* a woman. You’re supposed to wait on me.” The tease continued as her chin slightly lifted in the air. “It takes time to look this devastatingly gorgeous.” Her eyes slightly narrowed in amusement as her smirk increased
“Now, darling, we both know that you wake up looking like the angels smiled on you the day you were born.” Jasper gave her a devilish smile as he sauntered over to her and captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “And don’t try to argue with me, for I shall not hear a word of it. Do not make me call on Jean Pierre and Armaund when we return to New Orleans and tell them you misbehaved while we were here. You do know I do love getting you in trouble, love.” He winked and tapped the end of her nose with his forefinger before turning to the side and offering her his arm. “Now, I believe we need to go or we shall be late for the appointment with your friend Rose and her husband Alfie was it?” Being back in England after so many years was a treat. With his accent being what it was, he was the one that fit in and she was the one sticking out, something he enjoyed.
“Yes, and be nice, they’re human.” Anna’s delicate hand slid into the crook of Jasper’s elbow as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. “No trying to drink him under the table, we want him alive at the end of the visit.” A slight chuckle followed her words.
“Always ruining my fun!” He scoffed as he escorted her out to the waiting motorcar, one of the finest in all of London. One of the newest as well. “I will try, love. I suppose I can’t eat him either?” A brow rose, his head turning to look at her as he helped her up and into the car. The rolling of her eyes and the deep sigh she gave had him laughing as he joined her. He did so love riling her up, and was glad she was always a good sport.
It seemed no time at all, they were pulling up before the house that Rose and Alfie shared. There was another warning issued to Jasper, whose eyes sparkled with mischief and a daring smirk that Anna was well familiar with. She knew her patience would be tested this evening, but she could give just as well as he could. She had considered others to bring with her, but given Alfie’s profession, she also needed someone who would not cow to the man. As a friend of Tommy Shelby’s, she did have to keep up appearances after all. Jasper could be charming, but he bowed to very few, and none of them humans.
“Remember, behave…” Anna whispered one last warning as she exited the car to once more slip her hand into the crook of the handsome demon’s elbow. The devilish grin on his face and the wink she got in return told her that he would behave himself, to a point, and that point was just enough to keep him on her good side. They did have an almost 200 year friendship, and for some reason he valued it. Who was she to question?
Before they’d even stepped up to the heavy wooden door of the English countryside home, it swung open and they were greeted by the beaming face of Rose Solomons, her burly and surly husband a step behind her. “Annabella, I do believe you must be jealous of the fair Rose, you downplayed the lovely English maiden’s beauty,” Jasper flirted before taking Rose’s hand and brushing a chaste kiss across her knuckles. Just enough to be charming but not enough to get him shot by either the female, or her husband.
The men had just finished introducing themselves and shaking hands when the ladies turned towards them. It seemed Jasper did know how to get in good graces with the Mad Baker, as he had just pulled out two fine cigars from his inner breast pocket. “I think they’re going to do just fine without us.” Rose teased, leaning her head in towards Anna’s. “He seems to have anticipated one of my husband’s interests.” The beauty smirked.
A slap on his upper arm was Anna’s response before Rose found herself enveloped in a tight hug. “Ignore him, he’s being cheeky as always.” Anna’s French accent made her voice almost melodious as she laughed while greeting her friend. “If he didn’t think YOU would shoot him he’d be worse.” A quick kiss was dropped on Rose’s cheek before she pulled back and shook her head as the light danced in her eyes while she laughed.
Anna wanted to see them and to give her some advice on protection, possibly even training of female guards. Rose might know exactly who and what she was sitting next to, but she did know that Anna was in the upper echelons of the syndicate that ran New Orleans, that was not a secret from the Shelbys or Alfie. They just didn’t know exactly what that syndicate entailed, it was safer for them all that way.
“This might be our best chance to escape before we get roped into a discussion and once you get Jasper talking, it is hard to get that man to shut up. I think he might have been a woman in a previous life.” Anna gave the beautiful woman a wink and linked arms with her to hurry with her back towards the car that she and Jasper had arrived in
The driver was dutifully standing with the door to the back open with a conspiratorial grin on his face, he did know the woman who employed him well. He would be taking her to near the girls’ school and the boarding house that Rose had set up for women that needed protecting, where he would be switched out for a female driver. It had been arranged for when Anna had first set up the visit, not wanting even the driver to spook anyone. She could have had him switch forms, but that might have freaked Rose out a bit more than she was ready for. Not all humans were aware that “others” walked amongst them, and Anna wasn’t sure that all of the rum in Alfie’s distillery could help with that shock!
(I got wordy, so this is going to take a few parts. LOL)
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