#alfie solomons angst
Text
Reconcile
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Annie Murphy (baker!OC)
Summary: Alfie and Annie get in their first big fight and work through the aftermath.
Word count: 5,900 (whoops)
A/N: Uh I didn't plan on this being so long or switching between four different locations but that's how things went and I hope you enjoy this behemoth!!
—
It was true that Alfie Solomons hadn’t been in many serious relationships. But he was still surprised by the lack of full-blown arguments he’d had with Annie in the three months they’d been together. Sure, they’d bicker occasionally, but usually over general annoyances and frustrations that were just part of the territory of spending so much time with one person.
“Pet, how can you possibly fuckin’ shed so much hair? You’re actually worse than Cyril.”
“How can you possibly fuckin’ snore like there is a military tank rolling across your esophagus? Oh, the unsolved mysteries of our lives!”
But generally, they were still both riding the buzz of the new relationship, and the days that flew by were filled with laughter and sex and contentment.
So, while he had a feeling that telling Annie he'd be going to appraise jewels from the Romanovs wasn't something she'd be thrilled about, he didn't think it'd be that big of a deal. He'd explain that yes, the Russians were still fucking insane, but it was too good of a deal to pass up, especially for one night of work. And then he’d watch Annie perk right up when she found out he'd be getting her something stunning out of it.
It was a simple, straightforward plan. Until it all went to shit.
All because Alfie, who could normally teach a master class in deliberation, didn't take two crucial factors into account: how much Annie loved him, and how much she feared losing him.
He tells her casually in the kitchen after dinner, tapping her wrist lightly to stop her from instinctively washing dishes. It made him simultaneously chuckle and roll his eyes at how, after three months of her basically living at his place, she still forgot that Edna would take care of it.
“Let me get this straight. You’re gonna fuck about with the Russian aristocrats, the same people Tommy is working with who you said were 'outta their frozen, vodka-soaked minds?'" She frowns, crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter. "Why is that now a good idea?”
He brushes off the question with a wave of his hands.
"It’s not a long-term deal, love, I’m just helpin' Tommy out with a singular transaction.” He grins. “Of which you stand to benefit greatly from, I might add, ‘cause you can absolutely fuckin’ guarantee I’ll be bringin back somethin properly dazzlin' for my properly dazzlin' woman.”
He brings his hands to her waist and kisses her forehead, fully expecting to pull back and see her smiling, feel her mouth on his, hear her joke that she’s totally expecting a full-fledged tiara. Instead, she nudges him off her.
“You said you can’t guarantee anythin’ with Russians, that they’re unpredictable as all hell.” She shakes her head, her voice firm. “I don’t think you should do it.”
Alfie’s eyebrows shoot up and he steps back from her, one hand roaming through his beard.
“The fuck is she acting like I’m some kind of naive fucking civilian? Like she understands this part of the world because I tell her one bloody thing about the Russians?"
He tilts his head, and despite his quiet tone, his words have an unmistakable bite at their edges.
“Well, it is a good thing I ain’t askin’ ya for your permission, An, am I?”
Unlike Alfie, Annie’s reply is not quiet.
“Well, then, have a nice time getting shot in your thick fucking skull after those maniacs turn on you!" She storms past him and into the living room, only stopping to fire back over her shoulder:
"But nooooo, that would never happen to Alfie Solomons, you foresee everything, right?”
If it was anyone else talking to him the way she was, Alfie would’ve already had them spitting out teeth. Instead, seething, he strides right out and cuts off her path, forcing her to face him.
He's so mad at her doubt that he doesn't stop to consider that she's blinking faster than normal, doesn't pause and think about why she’s so upset. Instead, his anger obstructs his usual sense of deliberation, boiling over and spilling out his mouth before he can stop himself.
“Right, sweetie, you keep goin’ off ‘bout things of which you have no actual fuckin’ comprehension of, yeah. And I will do what I always do, right, and handle my business, same as any other fuckin’ day, so there’s really no need to be a cunt ‘bout this.”
It takes Alfie about two seconds to process what he just said, and his stomach drops.
“Oh, fuck.”
He sees distinct hurt flash across Annie’s face, looking very well like he just slapped her, before it quickly morphs into an expression he knows quite well, having worn it often.
Rage.
Now, for once, Alfie is the one backpedaling in a conversation.
“Fuck, An, I didn’t mean-"
“So now I’m a cunt, huh? Because I dared to tell you that I think you’re making a shit decision, one that could get you killed?” She hisses as her green eyes brim with angry tears, but she steadies herself, venom laced in every breath. “Well, if I’m such a cunt, maybe you’re better off finding someone else who isn’t one, someone who doesn’t give a fuck ‘bout what you do. Is that what you want?”
No, no, no, fucking no. Time screeches to a halt as Alfie's whole world crashes down around him. Icy fear douses his anger — would she really end things with him over this? She wouldn’t … right? Or did his temper just blow up the best part of his life in a matter of seconds?
Now, he’s really panicking.
“No, Annie, fuck, c’mon. Let’s just talk ‘bout this. I am fuckin’ sorry, yeah? You know I didn’t mean-"
“Just fuck off, Alfie. I'm going for a walk.”
She dodges his attempt to grab her hand and he lets it fall to his side, numb with shock as he watches her take her jacket off its hook and leave with a slam of the front door.
The silence in her wake is deafening, leaving nothing to distract Alfie from the presence of his suffocating guilt and his fear.
“FUCK!” He roars and turns on his heel, pacing and running his hands through his hair. He kicks over an end table, the resulting crash prompting Cyril to let out a low rumble in the corner.
Alfie drops to the ground, hitting his head against the back of the couch. Why, why, fucking why couldn’t he have just stayed calm and asked her why she was so upset that he’d be working with the Russians? Why did he let his ego get the best of him and shoot his mouth off, telling her he wasn’t asking for permission? And a proper bastard he was, most definitely deserving of his place in hell, calling her a cunt.
It makes him feel sick thinking about it, and he runs his hands down his face. He has to fix this, he can’t lose Annie.
He sits there for about 10 minutes, gears whirring in his head. The only comfort he has comes from petting Cyril, who decided to rest his head on his owner’s knee.
Suddenly, the phone rings. He heaves himself up and heads into his study, praying it’s Annie calling from wherever the hell she ended up and telling him she doesn’t feel like walking home in the dark, that they can talk, that things will be ok between them. That she doesn't hate him, that he didn't just ruin his whole life.
“‘Yeah?”
“Alfie, you need to come down to the bakery."
Alfie grits his teeth at Ollie's voice on the line.
“Not a good fuckin' time, mate, what happened?”
“Noah was out on a drop, and when he came back, someone.” Ollie pauses, seemingly steeling himself to press on. “Someone broke into your office. We dunno how they got in, or what they took."
And that’s the last straw. Alfie slams the phone down on his desk, cursing at the top of his lungs as the culmination of everything going on sends him punching a hole straight through the drywall.
Chest heaving, he cracks his knuckles and storms back to the phone.
"Right, have the boys sweep the rest of the shop, ask the neighbors if they saw anythin', pay 'em if you need to, I don't fuckin' care. Handle this shit, Ollie, otherwise the fuck good are ya?"
"They’re already looking, and yeah, of course. When will you be down?"
Alfie sighs, looking at his watch.
"Gimme a half hour, yeah?" He chooses his next words carefully, telling the truth but not all of it. "I'm waitin' for Annie to come home.”
"Right. See you."
Alfie hangs up and leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
“Fuck me,” he sighs, wrenching open the bottom desk drawer to pull out a three-quarters-full bottle of whiskey. Alfie rarely drank, but if there was ever a time to take the edge off, it’s definitely now.
The next 30 minutes crawl by as Alfie sits alone in the study with nothing but the burn of alcohol on his throat, each forward motion of the hand on his watch intensifying the ache in his chest. Was Annie even going to come back, or was she pissed off enough to spend the night alone in her apartment?
He shrugs his jacket and hat on and grabs a pen and paper, taking his sweet time writing out his note in case he hears the lock turn.
"Waited for you for nearly an hour, got a call from Ollie to come to the bakery. Shouldn't be too long, but don't wait up. Let's talk tomorrow before you go to work, yeah? I love you more than anything, and I swear there are no words in any fucking language to convey how sorry I am for hurting you.”
He leaves the note on the entryway table, and as he leaves his house and drives over to the warehouse, he can't stop himself searching for her in every passing face.
—
Six shots echo as Alfie unloads his revolver on two barrels of rum to stop himself from racking up a new tally on his body count.
It turned out that, in their brief neighborhood investigation, his best pair of idiots had discovered that the "dangerous thief" who'd broken into Alfie's office was not a fellow gangster, not a law enforcement official, no. It was a sniveling pre-teen punk whose equally punk friends dared him to break into the business and steal some rum from Alfie's office. And that's exactly what he did, confessing to the Jewish duo with his ear pinched firmly between his irate mother's fingers.
Ollie and Noah seemed to have been voted as the ones to have to give him this news, which they stammer out to him, everyone averting his rabid gaze. Their fear only intensifies when Alfie takes two steps closer to them, his voice quiet, deadly.
"So, what you are tellin' me is that ya called me down from me house, right, all because you daft fuckin' imbeciles got bested by some jumped-up lil' twat whose balls have yet to even fuckin' descend? That right?"
No one responds until Alfie pulls out his gun, with everyone except Ollie automatically stepping back.
"That's right," Ollie mutters, eyes flickering up to finally meet Alfie's.
And Alfie grunts and turns in the same breath, shooting directly into the barrels.
"Clean this shit up or the next round will be goin' into flesh, you fuckin' hear me?" he shouts.
He leaves his men scrambling as he stomps down the hall, slamming the door behind him. He stops for half a second on the street, leaning against the brick wall with his eyes closed, his attention immediately swinging back to more pressing matters: Annie.
He pushes off the wall and gets into his car, his brain switching gears as he heads to the florist's (yeah, it was 8:00 at night, but if the King of Camden needs something, especially post-argument flowers for his girlfriend, you can bet he's getting them) and then home.
—
He unlocks the door and walks in, his heart sinking at the sight of the empty sitting room.
“An?”
But as he turns to set down the sunflowers he got her, he sees the note he left is gone.
Relief courses through him like a drug. Annie must have seen it. She came back. She came back to him.
Sending up a silent "thank you" to the heavens, Alfie continues down the hall, stopping in the doorframe of his bedroom.
There she is, his Annie, curled up with Cyril and fast asleep in bed. He knows it's early, but he can tell she isn’t faking it by how deeply she’s breathing. All he wants to do is wake her up, climb in next to her, hold her, tell her he’s a fucking idiot and that he’ll drop the Russian deal in a second, do whatever it takes to make things right between them.
But, he also knows that, if Annie, with all of her endless energy, has crashed this early, she's got to be as emotionally wiped out as he is. So, as much as it pains him, he just kisses her forehead and heads out to the couch. It's like he's missing a limb, not having her by his side. But like Annie, he's exhausted, and sleep finds him quickly.
—
Alfie's eyes blink open and he's initially confused by his surroundings before his brain catches up, reminding him why he didn't sleep in his own bed last night.
But he relaxes, because at least he has the chance to talk to Annie before she heads to work.
Or, does he?
Because he’s blinking in bright, clear sunlight, and he knows Annie is usually up well before the crack of dawn. He frantically searches through his rumpled clothes for his watch, squinting at the numbers blurred without the use of his glasses.
Fuck. It's already 7:30. He flings himself up off the couch and when he gets to his bedroom, it's indeed empty. He's missed her, and his panic picks up right where it left off.
"What if she actually didn't see the fuckin' note? What if she thinks I was fuckin' angry at her, and that's why I was on the fuckin' couch last night?"
His stomach drops, and he drags his hands down his face. He has to see her -- there's no way in hell he'll make it through his own day of work with this looming over his head.
He doesn't even bother to change, just grabs his gun and keys, kicks his feet into his boots, jams his hat on, and he’s out the door.
—
After the world's worst paralell parking job, Alfie hurries into the bakery and down the familiar path to the kitchen door. He pushes it ajar gingerly and, when nothing is thrown at him, decides it's safe to proceed.
The usual organized chaos of Annie’s world meets him, her handful of all-women employees chatting animatedly as they knead, roll, and decorate. The air is heavy with the scent of dough and sugar, mixing with the warmth of the ovens.
But what lacks its usual warmth is Annie's gaze when she turns and sees him, something mirrored by her loyal employees who all stop what they’re doing to collectively hurl daggers at him with their eyes.
"So much for keepin' this between the two of us," he thinks darkly, but he also doesn't really blame Annie. Her normal bubbliness seems so off that it'd only be natural for her team to ask what was wrong. And it probably didn't help that Annie was a shit liar.
“Hey, pet.”
“Hi.” Her voice is flat, but Alfie takes it as a good sign that she's at least acknowledging him. "Shouldn't you be at work?"
He shakes his head, tries to swallows down his guilt.
“Nah, no way I could focus knowin’ how we left things last night. You were sleepin’ when I came home and I missed ya leavin’ this mornin'. He lowers his voice, a pleading note creeping in. “Love, we gotta talk.”
Seemingly with eyes on the back of her head, Annie lightly shoos the other bakers with her hands, prompting them to sheepishly direct their attention back to their work instead of at their boss and her boyfriend.
Annie sighs and starts forcibly working her dough.
“What else do you wanna talk about? You’re gonna work with the Russians." Slam. "You called me a cunt." Slam. "That’s that, innit?”
Alfie gestures at the mishappen pile of dough.
“And I apologized, right, but do you honestly expect me to believe you've moved passed it when you're attackin' that thing like it owes ya money?" He tries his luck and places his hand gently along her waist. She doesn't flinch at his touch like she did the night before, but she doesn't look at him.
"Listen, I really am sorry, Annie. And if it means that much to ya, I’ll drop the deal. But I need to know why’re you so hung up on me workin' with the Russians. All me work is dangerous, innit, you know that. Why is this different?”
Annie doesn't answer him, just finishes kneading and moves onto the next unbaked pile. “I’m busy, Alfie,” she mutters.
“Never stopped you talkin’ to me before.”
Now, she does look at him, frustrated. “Can we please just talk later? I don’t want to do this here, yeah?"
But Alfie meant what he told her -- there was no way he would be able to relax until things were right with them.
He steeples his hands and brings them to his lips, ring-clad fingers tapping together. "Ya don’t wanna talk here, eh?” Then, he pivots and strides out the kitchen door and out the bakery, leaving a confused Annie in his wake.
He gets back to his car and revs it with purpose, managing to extract it from where he jammed it against the curb and grazes the delivery truck behind him. Then, he whips the vehicle out into the middle of traffic … where he parks.
"This is mad, mate. But I guess that's love, innit," he murmurs to himself. He steps out, ignoring the beeps and honks from traffic around him, locks his gaze on the door of Annie's shop, and holds down the horn.
It works as he intends, with Annie appearing at the door in about 10 seconds. She comes outside, jaw dropping slightly when she realizes his angle.
“Right, this is a much better place to chat!” he shouts across the street, giving a flouncy wave to a car that angrily streaks passed him.
“ALFRED ELIJAH SOLOMONS, have you COMPLETELY lost your fucking mind?!” she screams back. With the look on her face, Alfie wouldn’t be surprised if she stormed right up and decked him (which he deserves, if he's honest), but he holds firm.
“Nah, I am thinkin’ crystal bloody clear, An. I fucked up and I ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘till we work this out!"
Annie just glares back, her gaze flickering between him, the traffic, and the passerby who've now gathered to see what was going on.
“With God as my witness, I will stand here all fuckin’ day if that's what it takes, love,” he adds.
Annie lets out an exasperated yell, throwing up her hands in resignation and striding toward the car, weaving between vehicles.
"You are an absolute bloody-" she stops as she nearly gets clipped by a taxi, and she and Alfie flip the driver off in unison as she lets out a littany of Irish curses before seamlessly switching back to English.
"An absolute bloody maniac, you hear me, waking up half of Camden and blocking traffic from here to High Street!” She slides into the car, slamming it shut, and Alfie follows suit, taking off down the street.
“Desperate times, desperate bloody measures, innit?” he replies.
Annie shakes her head and crosses one arm tightly against her chest, the other balling into a fist against her cheek.
It's probably only a few seconds, but her silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity to Alfie. But then, Annie does something completely unexpected.
She laughs.
And she keeps laughing, loud and bright and infectious, and now Alfie's chuckling with her. His chest can't help but feel lighter in response to his favorite sound in the entire world.
“Oh my God, I cannot believe you did that just so I’d talk to you," she says, wiping away tears of mirth with the back of her hand. “My ma always did say love made people do crazy things. I guess I just didn’t know that would mean being in a standoff in the middle of traffic.”
Alfie pulls over, completing another truly atrocious parking job, tires screeching. And when he turns to look at Annie, this time, her usual warmth is back in her face. He responds instinctively, grabbing her hand with his, and she squeezes it, and it’s like he can finally breathe again.
"We’re both ridiculous, aren’t we?"
“Lil’ bit,” he replies, and they both speak in unison:
“I’m sorry.”
Annie shakes her head. “No, no, you already apologized, and I know you meant it. This is. A lot of this is on me,” she sighs. “We should’ve just talked, I was being petty. Did it hurt that you called me a cunt? Yeah. Will I knock your head in if it happens again? Yeah. But is that what I was really the most upset over? No."
She bites her lip and stares up at the roof of the car.
"You asked me why I didn’t want you working with the Russians, that all your work is dangerous. And I get that. But it's usually work with the devil you know, innit? Or even if it’s the devil you don’t know, it’s not the devil who ran your ma and fuck knows how many other Jews and Gypsies just like me and you outta their country. People who slaughter us and hate us just for breathing the same air as them."
She fiddles with the frayed edge of her apron, hesitating.
"And I got scared," she says quietly. "Scared of what they might do to you. I don't know if I've said this right out, but after Cal … it’s my worst fear, losing you. I’m not daft, I know that your line of work heightens that probability, but I also know people 'round here generally don’t fuck with you. But Russian oligarchs, that's a whole different level. One that made it seem that much more likely that you wouldn't come back.”
Her voice breaks, and all Alfie wants to do is scoop her up in his arms, but with the spatial restrictions of the car, he settles for gently rubbing her shoulder.
She leans back on the headrest and turns slightly, locking tear-filled eyes on his.
"Then it felt like you didn’t care what I thought, so, I lost it. I don’t want to tell you what to do or have you think I don’t trust you, because I do. But, what if you get seriously hurt or fucking killed, and I didn’t say anything that could’ve stopped it from happening. But I also hate fighting with you and I don’t ever want to see you with anyone else, I never should’ve said that. So, I'm really, really sorry.”
Fuck, he loves her so much. And on one hand, he's ecstatic that they're working things out, but on the other, his heart aches from the realization that he didn't consider how his decision to only tell her the bare minimum, to cut her out of having a say in his work -- his attempt to keep her as far away from it as possible -- actually made things harder for her.
“Oh, An. You got nothin’ to apologize for, dove,” he replies softly. “Let's get outta this bloody car so I can give you a proper hug, yeah?"
She nods and they get out, and he pulls her into a bear hug as soon as she’s in range, more appreciative than ever of the warmth and feel of her body against his.
As their embrace ends, he tilts her chin up.
“Right, you need to know somethin', darlin’. Losin’ you is my worst fear, too. I was out of me head yesterday, thinkin’ I pushed you too far and you weren’t gonna come back. Thinkin’ to myself, 'Alfie, did you truly just fuckin' destroy the most beautiful and best part of your entire existence over business with the bloody Russians?'”
He shakes his head and her hands find his.
“So, I got a taste of what that worry and waitin' must be like for ya most days, didn't I? And I'm sorry for causin' it." He sighs. "I know I can’t promise what’s gonna happen in me work — like ya said, there’s always a chance that I’ll need those talented hands of yours to stitch me up."
Clasping her fingers in his, he brings them to his lips, and she gives him a small smile as he continues.
"But what I can guarantee is this: no matter what I'm workin' on, I will always, I repeat, always, have a multitude of plans and schemes in this ol’ head of mine for doin' whatever the fuck needs to be done to get back home to you, An. That’s a promise I can keep. Non-fuckin’-negotiable. With that bein’ said, if you’re still more worried than usual about me doin’ somethin’ you think is mad, I'm perfectly happy to share those elaborate plans with you, and I promise to at least hear ya out, and we can talk ‘bout it like rational adults instead of me bein’ properly shitty with ya. How’s that?”
“That's all I want. Thank you." She kisses him and keeps her arms around his neck, her hands stroking through his hair. "So, what's that brain of yours come up with this time?"
Alfie grins. "Well, me favorite scenario can't be properly sorted, right, until I get there, because it will involve taking a careful inventory of which illicit substances are available that can be used to sudbue an unsavory foe in a pinch." He nudges her, and she just runs her hand down her face, torn between relief and amusement. "Ya know what I mean?"
"No. But, strangely, I'm alright with that," she replies. "You just be safe, yeah, and go on with those plans of yours, love. I trust you, just still don’t trust a bunch of Russian cunts." Her tone gets mischievous. "Now that's a proper use for that word, innit?"
Alfie chuckles darkly. "Yeah, I'd say so."
Annie's smile grows. "And speaking of promises, I didn’t forget that you promised me something properly dazzling out of this.”
“Right I did, my gorgeous girl.” He nuzzles into her and she giggles, smacking him lightly as his beard tickles against her skin.
“When you leaving?” she asks.
“Gotta make sure shit’s squared up at the bakery and then I’ll head out late afternoon. I'll see you soon, yeah?"
She nods and grabs his shoulders, pulling him into a hard kiss that he responds to in kind, a tangible affirmation of his devotion, of being driven by his need to find his way back to her. Back to where he's home.
He rests his head on her forehead.
"Mine," she murmurs.
"Yours," he replies. And he, the King of Camden Town, knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that the title of being hers is the greatest one he'll ever hold.
—
Hampton Court
Everything really was going according to plan -- Alfie hadn't even considered his narcotic-fueled back-up option yet. He fully expected the Russians to bind him until Tommy's arrival, and he knew he had free rein over the selection and Tommy wouldn't argue. Because what kind of idiot wouldn't listen to his trusted jeweler?
Had he not had Alfie and Cyril waiting for him at home, Alfie very well may have considered just staying in that cellar and choking to death on sapphires. The jewelry and gems are exquisite. He surveys them with genuine interest, haggles the value with Isabella, and tosses them on the table. He finds a rhythym as he works through piles of earrings and bracelets, opals and rubies, all gorgeous -- but nothing that says "Annie."
And then he sees it: A diamond necklace with an emerald pendant encircled in miniature ornate suns and flowers.
He gives a low whistle. "Fuckin' hell. That's perfect, that is," he murmurs with a grin, holding up his prize to Tommy. "Whatcha think, Tommy, suits Annie well, yeah?"
Tommy's cool gaze warms the slightest bit as he gives a tiny nod, which Alfie takes as a glowing endorsement.
Alfie gestures to Isabella. “Give ya 10."
"12," she counters.
Alfie rolls his eyes. "11, then."
She looks like she’s about to argue, when Tommy's cool voice cuts her off.
“Let’s say 11, shall we?”
She hesitates for a second but under Tommy's steady gaze, nods curtly. Alfie places Annie's present on the table, noticeably gentler than he's been with the other jewelry.
"Who is Annie?" Tatiana asks.
"A breathtaking feminine creature descended from the most high and most beautiful goddesses themselves, whose radiance would put these here gems to right fuckin' shame," Alfie replies, not looking up from the pearl necklace he’s now examining with his eyeglass.
Tommy translates. "His woman."
"Ah," Tatiana responds, a slight smirk playing at her red lips. She turns to Isabella, the pair speaking openly in Russian.
"That must be one dumb goddess, fucking a rum-soaked Jew."
Alfie’s fist clenches around the necklace, and he looks up at Tatiana.
"Nah, sweetheart, my Annie has more intelligence in one beautiful brain cell of hers than the fuckin’ lot of you combined.” He smirks as she and Isabella exchange startled looks.
“But you are correct in that I am a rum-soaked Jew, but there is a good reason for that. Because my shop, right, is just above a rum house."
"You speak Russian?" Tatiana asks, bewildered.
"Yeah, I do, 'cause of me mum. And you people,” he pauses, glaring individually at each aristocrat. “Right, you hunted my mum with dogs. Through the snow.” The two women shift uncomfortably, and Leon averts his gaze.
Alfie takes a breath and rests his palms flat against the table.
“But back to the point at hand. If you, or you, or you, say anythin' about Annie, the love of my wretched life, yeah, in Russian, or English, or any other fuckin' language, we will have to cut this lovely ol' time we are havin' together short, because I quite simply will not tolerate it.”
Silence fills the dark room, expansive and pressing. Just as Tommy finally starts to open his mouth to break the tension, Alfie speaks, abruptly switching to a breezy tone.
“But who wants that, eh? Today is about forgiveness, innit? Now.” He sits down and claps his hands together. “Do you have any eggs?”
—
Even with the throbbing pain in his hip from the long drive back to Camden, Alfie has a spring in his step as he opens his front door, excited to see Annie.
He lumbers down the hall, softening at the familiar sound of Annie strumming on her guitar. He can already see it: her bare feet draped over the edge of the couch, reclining slightly and humming to herself as she plays.
The music stops as his footsteps get nearer.
"Ah, is that your da, sweet boy? Go get him!"
And as he rounds the corner, he's met with the full force of Cyril, nearly taking him out at the knees.
"Christ, mate, lemme at least sit down first before you try to kill me," he says sternly, but he scratches Cyril's ear with as much affection as ever.
And again, Alfie is nearly taken down by the force of an object barreling into him -- but this time, it's Annie.
"It's good to see you too, love," he wheezes out, and Annie slackens her vice grip of a hug.
"Sorry!" She beams up at him and gives him the kind of fervent kiss that leaves him struggling to string his thoughts together. "As you can tell, you were missed. Everything go ok?”
He's busy running his eyes and hands over her, but he snaps back to attention. “Hm. Right. Yeah, just peachy, truly, love. No illicit substances used on my end. You were right though, they sure did hate my oppressed, 'rum-soaked' guts."
Annie lets out a strangled noise like a growl, but it makes Alfie smile.
"Appreciate it, my ferocious girl, but it's all done and over with." He cups her face in his ring-adorned hands, tucks an escaped strand from her messy braid back behind her ear. "No more worryin' in that pretty little head of yours tonight, yeah?"
"Fair enough."
"Good. Now, I am a man who keeps his promises. And I believe I promised ya somethin' properly dazzlin'. That sound right?"
Annie grins and plops herself back down on the couch, and Alfie follows suit. "That does check out on my end."
Alfie pivots, feigning confusion. "Hm, or maybe I'm misrememberin'. That does happen, see, to old bastards like me as Father Time unleashes his steady and unyielding wrath upon us poor souls."
"No, no, no, I know your head has not gone to complete mush just yet."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, An," he grumbles, and she just giggles. "Close your eyes, yeah?"
She obliges as he reaches into his jacket pocket, carefully extracting out the delicate necklace and tucking it into her hand.
“Holy shit!" she exclaims, her green eyes open and widening with delight. "They really let you, my beloved rum-soaked Jew, walk out alive with this?"
"Ya like it?"
"I love it. It's absolutely beautiful. Thank you."
She beckons and he clambers over to her, taking the necklace from her to fix the clasp behind her neck, which he brushes with his lips.
"Course. God knows you deserve it, dove, puttin' up with all my nonsense."
"Hey, anytime you decide you want to further an apology with diamonds, you're not gonna hear a complaint outta me." She traces the necklace with her fingers, dipping down just above her breasts, and she tilts her head.
"I do think it’d look even better, though, without these clothes in the way. But I defer to your judgment, you being the expert jeweler and all."
Alfie immediately pulls her into his lap, eager hands guiding her sweater up and over her shoulders. Now, it's his turn to trace the necklace, arousal pulsing through his veins as he brings his lips to her breastbone, works his way up her neck.
“I think you have a very, very discerning eye, love," he murmurs, hands running down her thighs. "And I'm a very, very lucky man."
She grabs his jaw and tilts his head up, his blue eyes burning through hers. "And don't you forget it, Alfie Solomons."
And after everything that's happened, Alfie knows he won't.
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x oc#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons fic#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons fluff#alfie solomons angst#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fic#peaky blinders imagine#tom hardy
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I saw that you might be willing to do an attempt with Alfie so now I just have to request nr 2 with him!
Penance ~ Alfie Solomons x Reader (Fluff)
[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]
Warning: Mention of physical violence, torture (18/21+). I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.
Words: 1006 words
She looked so peaceful in her sleep.
Alfie could have watched her for hours, for ever even.
Her head was resting on the pillows as she was laying on her side. Her lips were slightly parted and he could see her chest rise and fall with every breath.
Perfect, in every way.
As someone who smuggled art and sold stolen goods for a living he had seen his fair share of beauty, in statues, in paintings.
But none of them, even those works of the great masters could even compare, not in his eyes at least.
He reached out slowly, careful as not to startle her and stroked one strand of her hair back behind her ear, but instead of pulling away he took the chance to brush over her cheek once more, barely brushing over the discoloured flesh.
My brave girl, he thought. My brave, brave girl.
It had taken her a while to fall asleep, the nerves hadn’t let her and he knew the rum would only make it worse so instead he had sat at her bedside, stroking over her hand and humming softly until sleep claimed her.
And then, Alfie had waited until her breathing was calm and steady, ready to wake her at any given chance if those bastards came to haunt her in her dreams too.
No, no, he couldn’t let that happen, could he now?
No, no, not at all.
In truth, he could have watched her for hours, until the sun rose and she would stir again.
That would be time well spent, but it was also time he didn’t have, not yet.
A low hum rumbled in his chest as he tried to get his body to accept the decision his mind had made up, even if every fibre of his being wanted to stay here, with her.
Soon, he thought. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Before leaving fully, he tucked her in and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.
That’s a good girl, he thought, as she didn’t stir.
Yeah, my good girl.
Once he had closed the door as quietly as humanly possible he began to make his way down to the distillery, the very thought rattling in his head.
My brave, brave girl.
Halfway down he saw Ollie, who had come to fetch him. Twice already had he turned the man away and once again he waved him off.
“Yeah, I know, I know. That’s why I’m coming, innit?”, he asked without breaking his stride.
Ollie waited until he had passed him to fall in step with him.
It was easy to find them, left right in the back of his bakery.
“Right!”, he announced in a booming voice before they could see him, making their heads snap around to see him.
He walked past them at first, getting a chair and placing it right in front of them, slowly sitting down with a groan.
By now their faces had gone icy pale and he could long see the sweat on the brows over their fear filled eyes.
It was a sweet sight indeed.
With a sigh, he leaned forward, cracking his knuckles one finger at the time before reaching into the pocket of his vest and pulling out his half moon glasses so that he could see them better.
He didn’t normally care for fear in his enemies eyes, but this was personal and he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t forget a bit of it, just like he would never forget the sight of the small cut on her lip and the bruise on her cheek, or the one on her hip from where she had crashed onto the ground.
For a while he only ever watched them, letting his silence and his gaze do the talking.
It broke one of the three in minutes.
“Mr Solomons, I can explain!”, he insisted.
“Ah can you?”
He nodded eagerly and wanted to babble on but Alfie placed his finger over his lip and silenced them.
For a few heartbeats he let them wait.
“Now that’s a convenient fucking thing for you, because as of right now I have made a decision, yep. I have made a decision.”
He nodded as he saw them tremble.
“You see, each of you, yeah, gets to go in their own room and then I will talk to you one by one. If I hear that nothing has transpired here, you are all free to go.”
They gasped in relief and glanced at each other.
“But of course, if someone is the need to confess, then I, benevolent as I am, will of course listen.”
He looked at each one of them in turn.
“Now, as an educated man myself, I understand that your little modified God believes in forgiveness. Yep. In your little book, in the part you didn’t steal from us, I read that he will forgive. Your God will forgive you, Your God will forgive me, that is his job, right?”
Alfie stared at them with expectant eyes and then they quickly nodded.
“Now, I am not quite as godly as he is, so I am going to need a little penance to forgive.”
“P-penance?”, one of them stammered.
“Since confessing means you had a hand in this, I will break both of your hands. It is only fair.”
And now to his favourite part.
“If someone confesses, and the others don’t that means that they, yeah, were lying to me and I don’t like liars. No, liars are bad, bad people and lying is yet another sin.”
Slowly he got to his feet and rubbed his hands dry on a towel at the side.
“If I find out, they had a hand in it, but did not confess their sins, I will crush both your hands. And then, yeah, for lying, I will rip your tongues out and feed them to the fucking pigs.”
With a wide smile he clapped his hands together and nodded to his men who separated them. After all, he had to get going if he wanted to return to her side before she had a chance to wake.
End
Thank you so much for that request and for your kind comment. I am especially grateful that you chose to talk to me despite it being something you don't normally do. I feel honoured! I hope you enjoyed it even if it was a little different than the other stories.
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hello I am nervous to ask, but are you willing to write for alfie solomons? something where the reader is a nurse or something and takes care of him by the sea but has never go to the ocean and maybe alfie catches on and shows her
ooooooo!!!! I LOVE this idea!! I've actually been rewatching peaky blinders, and I've finally gotten to Alfie!!!
I might have to write a cute lil sm sm for this!
#q#personal#ask#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x f!reader#alfie solomons fluff#alfie solomons angst#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons x you#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fic#alfie solomons fanfic
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Hi I hope you like it, and forgive me if it doesn't turn out so good ❤
Just remembering that English is not my first language.
A little more of Alfie, because I'm in love with him.
Alfie Solomons X Reader fem
warning: Angst and fluff
reader pov
Being married to Alfie Solomons wasn't easy, his life was dangerous and he could often be a little bossy, but other than that Alfie was always a good husband.
He was always there for me, he went to dinner with me even if he didn't like it, he spent hours with me at my flower shop and he was full of pollen which made him sneeze all day, but he never complained.
And I saw myself as a good wife, always understanding why dinner was late, always helping with injuries, and often helping him with paperwork.
But due to the little war between the Italinos and the Shelbys, Alfie has become terrible, I can't help but go from home to flower shop and vice versa, with men on my back, I really understand, but I've always been independent. and that made me feel like a bird in a cage.
And then last night got worse
Flashback on
Alfie arrived later than usual and full of blood, at first I was quiet I helped him with the mess, I asked him to go to the shower and I separated an outfit for him, when he left the bathroom he got ready and went down to dinner , he sat in the end chair at the large table and began to eat.
Just as I knew my husband, he also knew me.
- What was my Rose?
- What's going on Alfie?
- What do you mean what is happening?
- Look at you, I haven't seen you properly for almost a month, you arrive late and leave almost at dawn and when you come back you're always hurt.
"The blood wasn't mine," he said simplistically.
- That doesn't answer the other questions.
- I'm working - he said raising his voice - I'm doing this to put food on the table, to buy your expensive dresses, pay for your dinners in 5 star restaurants.
- Shut up Solomon, I've never depended on any man, I have my own business and I help you pay the bills - I raised my voice at the same level as him.
- That flower shop shit? - He said sarcastically - It wouldn't even help pay a fucking rent, let alone help pick up the bills for this house.
He yelled, Alfie never yelled at me and the worst thing was what he said about the flower shop, it was my mother's dream, but she died of a bad flu when I was 17 years old, I had to take care of my younger brothers and the house , so when I had the opportunity to create the flower shop I went with all my guts and faith, and Alfie knew all that.
Alfie realized what I had said and the house was silent for who knows how long, when he got up and tried to come towards me, I just got up and started to leave.
"You're going to sleep in the guest room tonight," I said walking up the stairs.
- My rose please.
He tried to catch me, but I quickly climbed the stairs and went to the bedroom, closing the door.
flashback off
For almost 2 hours Alfie was knocking on the door, when he noticed that I was not going to open it he gave up, the other day I woke up I did my morning care and went to the kitchen, when I arrived there was a beautiful coffee table, but when I heard Alfie, I just grabbed my bag and went to the flower shop, and I went like that for two more days.
Alfie tried to talk to me, but I was very upset, today was a friday night, cold and rainy, I was still at the flower shop and I was really thinking about sleeping here, since I didn't want to go home, that's when I heard someone knocking on the door. And when I look I see a soaked Alfie and along with him a box.
I opened the door even though I didn't want to, got a towel for him and went back to doing my chores.
"Rose," he whispered low.
- Don't call me that Alfred.
- What I said was the stupidest thing in the world, this flower shop and your life just like you are mine, and I would never let anyone talk about you like I talked about her - he left the box on the floor and walked with a limp towards me - Let's go, to another country if you want, I'll leave all that and we can do a flower shop somewhere else and be happy there.
- My family is here Alfie, and I know how you love your bakery too, and I would never ask you to leave it, I understand your life, but I'm afraid my husband won't come home is just that.
- You are my home and I will always come back, forgive me.
- I'm still very hurt, you know how I love this place - a tear fell from my eye and he wiped it away.
- I know my Rose.
- I can forgive you, but we will have rules from now on, time to leave and time to come back.
- You who send my Rose
And then he kissed me, a simple but passionate kiss, when I opened my eyes I saw the box he'd brought move.
- Alfie what's in the box?
- A is true - he took the box and showed me, inside there was a beautiful puppy - You said you wanted one, so here it is.
#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons#peaky blinders alfie#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder fanfic#alfie solomons fluff#alfie solomons angst#peaky blinders
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Peaky Blinders: The Gang Master List
Alfie Solomons
The Gang-
#alfie solomons#peaky blinders#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x y/n#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons smut#alfie solomons drabble#alfie solomons angst#alfie solomons one shot#alfie solomons moodboard#peaky blinders x reader#peaky fucking blinders
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Peaky blinders headcannon ->
“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”
Find the request here
Tommy🪖
🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.
🪖You’d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.
🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”
🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?
🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.
🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.
🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.
🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”
🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.
Alfie🧸
🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?
🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.
🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.
🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.
🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”
🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.
🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.
🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.
🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.
Arthur🍺
🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.
🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.
🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.
🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.
🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.
🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.
🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.
🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”
🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.
John🥃
🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.
🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.
🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”
🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.
🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.
🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.
🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.
Bonnie🥊
🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.
🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.
🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.
🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.
🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”
🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.
🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.
🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.
🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.
Isaiah♟️
♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.
♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.
♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?
♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.
♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.
♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.
♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.
♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.
♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.
Michael🎱
🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.
🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.
🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.
🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.
🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”
🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.
🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.
🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.
🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.
🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.
🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.
🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.
🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.
🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.
🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.
🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”
🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.
🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.
🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”
🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.
🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.
🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”
Finn🎞️
🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.
🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.
🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.
🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.
🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.
🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.
🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.
🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.
🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”
🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.
🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.
🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.
🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.
🎞️“Nice.”
#masterlist#xreader#smut#fluff#warner sister#angst#requests#x you#imagine#peaky blinders#Thomas Shelby#John Shelby#Arthur Shelby#Alfie solomons#Bonnie gold#Isaiah Jesus#Michael gray#Finn Shelby#Tommy Shelby#thomas shelby x reader#John Shelby x reader#arthur shelby x reader#Bonnie gold x reader#isaiah jesus x reader#michael gray x you#michael gray x reader#finn shelby x reader#Peaky blinders x you#Peaky blinders headcannon#headcannon
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the forgotten daughter- Tommy Shelby
summary- tommy sent his daughter away because she was a burden he wasn’t ready for. she went 12 years without seeing him once, what happens when she gets an invitation to his wedding?
trigger warning- talks of abuse, neglect, rape, violence, illness.
angst
dad!tommy shelby x daughter!reader
you were 6 when you were sent away to a girls school in manchester. your father, thomas shelby, had told you that ‘he couldn’t be a father’ and that he was ‘too busy to be burdened with a child’. you were now 18 and hadn’t seen your family since. the last time you had received a letter from your father was when you were 17 and it was to inform you about the birth of his son, charles shelby.
you were enraged. it was unfair that he saw charles as a blessing and you as a burden. that he could step up to be a father then but not 17 years ago. you had practically raised yourself for the last 12 years. every birthday you stole a cupcake from the canteen at the school and sung yourself happy birthday. every christmas you receive pitying looks from the nuns because you were one of the only children to stay in the four walls of your dormitory whilst all the other girls spent time with their families.
you had just finished your last year and was lucky enough to get a job straight out of straight out of school which allowed you to buy yourself a small flat. you sent a letter to your father to let him know that you were safe and you gave him your address although you never knew whether he received the letter because he never wrote back. until a week ago when he sent you a wedding invitation.
deciding to attend was the easiest decision. you knew you wanted to see him one last time before you ultimately cut all communication and moved on, knowing that there was no point in hoping he would acknowledge you as his daughter. you were however grateful that he paid for your education, even if he did abandon you for 12 years.
you used your savings to buy a new dress before getting the train to birmingham and paying for a taxi to the church. as you stood outside the venue you pondered on whether this was a good idea, but you knew you had to do this in order to accept that you were alone in this world. you sat at the back with your head down for the entirety of the ceremony. you didn’t even put your head up to see the bride. as selfish as it sounded, you didn’t care for the wedding and you did not care about their happiness.
when the ceremony was finished, you stood outside of the church with a cigarette in your hand whilst your ‘family’ took photos. next to you, a gentleman was doing the same thing. he was also glaring at the family and you wondered what his issue was.
“what did they do to you?” you scoffed.
“huh?” he raised his brow
“if looks could kill, they’d be slaughtered by now” you joked.
“i just don’t like the groom” he shrugged.
“me neither” you agreed. “y/n” you reached your hand out to shake his.
“alfie” he reciprocated. “so why don’t you like him?” he asked.
“im his daughter” you nonchalantly replied.
“never new tom had a daughter”
“yeah he seems to forget aswell” you shrugged.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“it means he shipped me away for 12 years whilst he fucked off and had a family” you smiled. “fancy giving me a lift to this reception?” you linked his arm.
“absolutely. i think we will get along just fine” he grunted. and you smiled at him.
you both walked to his car and he held the door open for you. “didn’t take you for a gentleman” you bantered.
“is it the cockney accent that gave you that impression?” he wondered. which made you laugh.
“i suppose so” you climbed into the passenger seat and he climbed into the drivers. he started the car and drove towards what you were guessing was your fathers house, not that you’d ever been there.
“so tell me about the relationship with your father y/n” he delved straight in.
“wow you waste no time” you scoffed. “well he impregnated my mother, she died during childbirth, he lazily raised me for 6 years before telling me he couldn’t be a father and shipped me off to boarding school in manchester for 12 years and didn’t visit me once” you shrugged. it didn’t bother you anymore. you have accepted that even though he’s your dad, he’s never really been your father. he never tucked you into bed and read you a bedtime story, he never looked after you when you were ill, he never threatened your first date when he came to the door, he never took you for your first alcoholic drink and he will never walk you down the aisle at your wedding. and even though sometimes you just really need your father to tell you everything is going to be ok, you have been alone for 12 years and managed. you can go the rest of your life.
“oh. daddy issues then?” he tried to banter which made you laugh.
“you could say so yes” you replied.
“so if he’s such a shit dad why did you come to the wedding?” he pondered.
“i need closure. after this we will never ever speak again. all form of communication will be cut off.” you said with confidence.
“fair enough” alfie replied. he felt bad for the girl. she had never had a parent in her life. she had been neglected. and he could tell that even though she gave off the impression that she wasn’t bothered by it, he knew she was hurt deep down. so he left it at that.
for the rest of the drive you spoke about all sorts. your job, where you live, his job and where he lives. it was nice. and when your ‘fathers’ house came into view, you were in shock.
“are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered under your breathe. you don’t know why it was the house that made your heart drop, but it was a reminder that you were unwanted. that your father had abandoned you and started a new family that he lived with and looked after in the ridiculously large fucking house. and then came the lump in your throat.
“you ok?” alfie asked. he could tell that she was not.
you took a deep breath. “yes” you nodded and got out of the car. all the guests started showing up at the same time. you waited for alfie to get out of the car before you went in. he linked arms with you and you both walked in.
the first thing you saw was a stair case with large portraits of the family of three. it made you laugh.
“arrogant arseholes” you whispered to alfie which made him laugh. and it was then that you really looked at them. there was a portrait of what you’re guessing is your father, his new wife and his child. that was the first time you saw mrs grace shelby and charles shelby. and as bad as it sounds, you resented them. you resented grace for not encouraging your father to get to know you which sounds stupid and irrational but you couldn’t help it. you knew logically that it’s not your fault that the relationship between you and your father was none existent. it was his. and you resented charles for having the father you needed and wanted. that was supposed to be you. and again it’s irrational because he’s a child and it’s not his fault but you just felt so angry. so you looked away.
a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and took a flute and chugged it. this concerned alfie. he didn’t want you to get drunk and say something to your ‘family’ that you would later regret.
“go easy” he sternly told you.
you glared at him.
from the other side of the room, john and arthur had noticed you.
“who is that linking arms with alfie?” arthur asked john.
“i think it might be y/n” john squinted.
“y/n y/n, as in tommy daughter y/n?” arthur responded.
“yeah, kind of looks like ‘er” john smiled.
“well why the fuck has she got her arm around alfie soloman’s” arthur said angrily.
“i don’t know, he’s like 15 years older than her” john looked confused. before tommy came up behind them. “need you in the kitchen now” tommy demanded.
“did you know y/n is here?” john asked him.
“who?” tommy asked
“your daughter, y/n” said arthur.
“what? where?” tommy looked around before he saw you.
“why the fuck is she linking alfie, and why is she downing champagne? she’s a child” tommy asked.
“that’s what we were wondering. and tommy she’s not a child, she’s like 18 now isn’t she?” john asked.
just as tommy hummed, he made eye contact with you and it was you who looked away as soon as it happened. he truly saw you for the first time in 12 years. you were a woman now. he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were. you looked like the spitting image of your mother with your y/e/c coloured eyes and your soft y/h/c coloured hair. and all of a sudden he had a wave of guilt come over him. he knew he’d been a shitty father towards you, but he never really thought about it until that moment. he felt like shit and so he did what he does best and walked away.
on the other side of the room, you had just made eye contact with your father for the first time in 12 years. you had seen him in the papers so you knew he hadn’t really changed. but making eye contact felt so awkward for you. this was the man whose dna you shared and yet you felt no father-daughter connection with him. you just felt hurt. and so you chugged another flute of champagne. to which alfie’s concern grew even more.
the announcement was made that there was food in the other room as they asked everyone to move there.
you and alfie made your way to the table. you sat next to eachother. you looked around and saw your great aunt pol sat opposite you.
“is that you y/n?” she smiled.
“hello” you suddenly felt shy.
“hello darling” she replied. sat next to her was ada.
“how have you been y/n?” she asked.
“good, i graduated school”
“oh brilliant, do you work?” pol asked
“yes, i have a secretary job working at a factory and i’m a barmaid on the weekends”
“why two jobs?” ada asked
“moneys tight, have to be able to pay the bills on my flat”
“tom doesn’t give you money?” she responded
“why would he?” you asked.
“because you’re his daughter” ada said to which you shrugged. this conversation made pol and ada sad. they realised they truly knew nothing about you and your life. they also knew that tommy hadn’t been the best to you, but again, it didn’t dawn on them how neglectful they had also been.
“you recently turned 18 didn’t you?” pol asked.
“yes”
“did you do anything for your birthday?” she asked.
“not really. just went to work, went to the bakery on the way back home and bought a cupcake and went to bed” you shrugged. that was your routine of 12 years.
“you didn’t celebrate with friends?” they asked
“don’t have any” your shrugged.
“what about school friends?”
“well they all knew eachother because their parents were friends so they would see eachother outside of school” and this made pol and ada feel even worse, you truly were alone.
“well i’m sorry we didn’t come and see you, we were just so busy preparing the wedding” ada smiled.
“it’s ok, i didn’t expect anyone to”
arthur got up from his seat to do the best man speech.
“hello everyone, before you eat i just want to say a few words as best man. my brother tommy met grace in 1919, obviously at that point we didn’t know she was a spy from the parish” at this, you looked up to the top of the table for the first time to see arthur and john for the first time, and then you looked towards your dad. he had an uncomfortable face on him, obviously not expected arthur to bring such a thing up in his speech.
you chugged another flute of champagne. and now, alfie, pol and ada all grew concern for you.
“-anyway, enough about that. these two were destined for eachother. if tom can forgive her for it then it shows how much he loves her. tom doesn’t really love anyone besides grace and charles” and at this, your father looked in your direction to see you chugging another flute of champagne. your 4th in the space of an hour. his eyebrow raised.
“-they are the perfect family. tommy, grace and charles. when grace was pregnant with charles you should have seen tommy. constantly talking about how this is all he’s ever wanted. he was bouncing of the walls” a lump formed in your throat. because he already had a child. you.
ada and pol looked in your direction to see your head facing down and you picking at your nails. a nervous habit you have.
“when charles was born, you couldn’t get the smile off tommys face for weeks. it’s obvious he loves his little family. it didn’t take long for tommy to finally start taking days off work for once to take grace and charles on days out. i remember the first time tommy took a week off to take charles away in the caravan.”
you could feel your heart beat speeding up and tears forming in your eyes. and you sneakily tried to wipe them away. but alfie noticed. and he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.
“i remember the dark circles under his eyes when charles had a cold and wouldn’t settle and tommy had been up with him all night”
your dad looked in your direction to see you wiping a tear off you face and put your head up. and he saw the disappointment in your eyes. and he was disappointed in himself. he knew then that he hadn’t been a father towards you. he can’t remember a single night where he stayed up with you as a child and helped settle you. it was mostly ada and pol who raised you for them 6 years.
“grace. we love you, you came into tommys life and made it better. you gave him something to live for, a child” at this you stood up and walked out of the room. at this it dawned on all the family what had happened. arthur hadn’t realised how big he was fucking up until your shoes clacked against the floor as you speed walked out of the room. “shit” tom whispered. grace looked very confused as to what was happening. alfie stood up and went after you.
he found you sat on a step with your head in your hands. he quietly sat next to you and out his hand on your back and rubbed it. neither of you said anything and you just sat there and cried for the first time in 4 years.
a minute later, tommy came out. alfie glared at him. “go away mate” he whispered gesturing to you crying.
“i want to speak to my daughter privately” tommy demanded.
“haven’t you done enough. why now?” alfie asked him as he got up of the step.
“please” tommy pleaded. he looked desperate.
“don’t say anything stupid” alfie warned as he walked back into the other room. tommy sat next to you. you still had your face in your hands and he could just hear you sniffling. it broke his heart.
“im sorry y/n i know i haven’t been the best father” you scoffed.
“you’ve not been a father at all” you muffled from behind your hands.
“i know” he nodded.
“i haven’t been there for you at all. especially in the last 12 years. but i want to start” he tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off. and pulled your face away from you hands.
“it’s too late. i’ve managed on my own for 12 years i can do it for the rest of my life” you turned to him.
“everyone needs someone y/n, trust me. i didn’t know it until i met grace” he sincerely said.
“maybe. but i’m fine without you in my life.”
“you don’t mean that” tommy shook his head.
“i really do. i have my own flat, a job and food in my cupboards. i don’t need you. i will never forgive you. you abandoned me for years. you neglected me. i spent twelve years in the same institute. christmas’s and half terms included. i was stuck in a building with people who would hit, kick and spit on me whenever i did the slightest thing wrong. i spent my 18th birthday being brutally raped by 3 men on my way home from the fucking bakery. i had to nurse myself back to health whenever i was ill. you weren’t there. you don’t need to be here now.” you shouted.
“y/n i- i don’t even know what to say. i overheard you talking to pol and you never mentioned that that’s what happened” you shook your head.
“its not really dinner talk is it.”
“i swear i will hunt those men down and make them hurt” he had a determined look on his face.
“too late. it’s already happened. they’ve already told me that if i tell anyone they’ll come after me” you shrugged.
“they won’t touch you, i’ll protect you”
“for how long? two weeks before you decide i’m too much of a burden again” you shook your head.
“you remember that?” he asked
“what? you telling me that i’m a burden? you don’t just forget your parent telling you that. sticks with you”
“i am so sorry y/n”
“yeah well i’ll get over it. coming to this wedding was a fucking mistake.” you sighed
“why did you come?” he asked.
“i wanted to see my family one last time before i cut all communication. not that any of yous care”
“come with me y/n” he got up and gestured for me to follow.
“why?” you questioned
“just come with me” he started walking so you followed.
you came to a stop infront of a door. he opened it and gestured for you to come inside.
you entered and quickly realised this was his office. “why are we in here?”
he walked towards his desk and grabbed a picture that was stood on it and held it out to you. it was a picture taken on your graduation. you looked up at him confused
“i had your school send a copy to me. i always asked for updates on how you were doing at school. i have every school report in my draw. i always cared about you. i was just terrible at showing it. and i always thought it was too late to try and be your father so i avoided you. which was wrong. but seeing you today reminded me that i don’t want to have regrets in life. i don’t want to be an old man on my death bed and wondering where my own daughter is. i know i cant expect you to just accepted me as your father. but i would really like you to come over for dinner one day. and meet grace and charles properly?” he asked.
“i don’t know. i don’t feel like they would want me here” you shook your head. with tears still rolling down your face.
“trust me, they do. grace has wanted to meet you for years. she was the one who encouraged me to invite you to the wedding. she really wanted family here. and you are family y/n. i know you feel wronged by all of us, and i understand why. but i want to make it better. please, give me a chance” he pleaded.
“okay.”
#peaky blinder imagine#tommy shelby angst#grace shelby#peaky blinders imagines#shelby imagine#peaky blinders#polly gray#john shelby#arthur shelby#alfie solomons#angst#peaky blinder fanfic#masterlist
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𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑃𝑡．1
𝐷𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦 𝑥 𝐴𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑆𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑛’𝑠
𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦；𝐷𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐷𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑠ℎ 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛. 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛. 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐷𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙. 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑡. 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟. 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦.
When she was young all Dorothy wanted to do was to make her farther proud of her. When he came home from war. It was like the little girl had turned in to a complete stranger. She would draw him pictures only to later find them in the bin. She tried everything. She always did well in school but none of it was never enough for him.
So soon enough the young girl stood trying. She didn’t even speak with her so called farther. Dorothy couldn’t remember a time when the two of them had a conversation. She would watch the way John was with his children. How he would swing Katie around and cuddle her. She often imagined that her dad would do that to her.
But that day never came. And now here she was. in an all girls boarding school. She only had a few months of school left. She hated the place. It was filled with nuns. And there was one strange perverted priest. But Dorothy managed to keep out of trouble. Her quietness kept her away from most of the cruel punishments.
She did have to admit. That the place was incredibly lonely. She had no friends. And she didn’t receive any mail on Fridays like the rest of the girls. And Fridays were the days that Dorothy would spend on her own in her bedroom crying. She just wanted someone to write to her. Ask her if she was ok. Ask her how she was doing.
She just longed for one little letter. And then she received one. But it was far from the one she expected. It was an investment to her farther’s wedding. No are you ok? No. How are you? Just a shot in invitation. ‘𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐺𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝐵𝑢𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟’ that was in four days. And all Dorothy wanted to do was to shove the invitation down her farther’s throat.
But the young woman chose to be civilised and decided to attend. She had taken the train to Birmingham and she would probably call a taxi from the train stations public phone. She had worn one of her best dresses. And she had gotten her hair cut. Her hair was nearly down her back when she was fourteen and now she had it cut to her shoulders with pretty curls.
She had changed a lot in four years. She looked nothing like she did when she had first left for London. And her voice was very much different. Her words always sounded very smart. And she had a strong posh London accent. She no longer sounded as rough as she once did and Dorothy quite liked the change.
She wanted to leave every thing that reminded her of her last life. She watched out of the window as the taxi pulled up to the church. It was large. She saw some men standing out side smoking a cigarette. She had arrived ten minutes early. But it seemed as though she was not the only one which put her mind at ease lightly.
As Dorothy exited the car she handed the money over to the man bidding him a fair well. The young woman made her way over to the church noticing some of the men smoking their cigarettes outside staring at her. They were wearing cavalry uniforms which confused her. She remembered how much her family hated the cavalry.
A lot has changed. She gripped her small purse in her hands. As she walked through the doors of the church. The rows were full and Dorothy could see her farther stood at the front with her uncle. Dorothy walked quickly hoping that they did not notice her. And just her luck they did not. She took a seat next to a large man with a beard. He did seem to mind as she sat down.
She noticed Finn in the corner of her eye looking at her. The two of them were once close. Dorothy would often comfort Finn after he had had a nightmare or when he had been told of for being naughty and he was yelled at. The two of them were friends. Well that was what Dorothy thought until she went a month without a single letter from anyone.
Dorothy looked away from the boys eyes. She also noticed the man next to her starring at her. She felt a soft pink colour paint her cheeks. Dorothy had chosen to sit further away down the church as the family of the groom and bride were sat. She wasn't ready for any awkward confrontations yet.
She turned to look at the man she was seated next to. He was much taller than her self. His face had some scars on it. He seemed rather friendly in his body language. But he hadn't spoken to her. And Dorothy understood. She was a stranger and so was he to her. So she didn't bother to engage in to small talk.
The church looked beautiful and elegant. And her family all looked to be wearing expensive clothes which was very different to what they wore when Dorothy lived with them. She felt out of place. Her dress was cheep and she had bought it in a small boutique in town. She shrunk down in her chair. Now Embarrassed of the way she was dressed.
It felt like they were all going forward and they were just leaving her behind. And she was just like some kind of dead weight. A young man came around with the lyrics of the songs that they would sing in church. The man next to her didn’t accept the paper. But Dorothy smiled taking it from the young man’s hands.
Of course with four years of church every day. Dorothy practically new every word of the songs. But the young boy looked scared from talking to the man next to her. So she thought she should be kind. And it seemed to work. The young boy looked more relieved as he returned the kind smile to Dorothy. And carried on handing the slips of paper to the rest of the people.
As the church choir sang in the bleak midwinter. Everyone sat in silence. And soon Jeremiah Jesus came forward graces side looked disgusted with the fact that their was a man of colour who would marry grace and Tomas. But Jeremiah didn’t let that bother him as he walked forward taking his place at the stand.
And then the music began to play. Dorothy and the rest were all waiting for grace to come down the isle. She looked around at the rest of the family. None of them had noticed her here. And she couldn’t lie she felt really disappointed. She thought that at least one of them would have noticed her being at the bloody wedding.
And then grace came out from behind the door with her farther holding her hand as he was dressed in a cavalry uniform. A dark purple vail was placed over her face so nobody could see her face. All of the women on graces side of the family all fussed over about how lovely she looked. But the Shelby women didn’t look very happy. Dorothy wasn’t really bothered.
Tommy removed the vail off of his future wife’s face. They both smiled at one another. Before they both turned towards Jeremiah Jesus. Waiting for him to marry the couple. Dorothy heard the man at the side of her let out a unhappy grunt. Dorothy turned to look at him. He was also looking at her. Making the young woman blush as she turned back around.
“Dearly beloved, we are all gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony. Tomas Michael Shelby and Grace Helen Burgess. Do you Tomas Michael Shelby, Take Grace Helen Burgess to be your lawfully wedded wife ?” Jeremiah asked her father. And he turned to look at grace. “I do” he said proudly.
“Do You Grace Helen Burges. Solemnly swear to love, honour, and obey till death do you part. ?” Jeremiah now turned to grace and asked her. And she once again smiled and turned to her soon to be husband. “I do” she smiled saying it with the same pride as tommy did. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” And the newly wedded couple brought one an other in for a kiss. Making everyone clap and cheer.
Everyone then made their way out of the church and outside. Dorothy was stood on her own. It was like nobody cared about her. She felt like a fool. As she stood with her purse in her hand. She just wished that she could go home. She watched as the two family’s gathered around for a photo. And heat Dorothy was not in it.
She watched as they all smiled together. Tommy and grace then climbed in to their carriage to drive to their home. She turned to see the man she was sat next to in the church standing besides her. “Who are you then.” His voice was rough and his frame was much larger than hers. But Dorothy sent him a soft sad smile.
“Dorothy but it’s not like anyone remembers” she said sadly looking at the man as she played with the purse in her hands. The man studied her. And he looked at her confused. He clearly didn’t understand her answer but he didn’t bother to question her which she was great full for.
“Ay been there. You need a lift.” He asked when he noticed she hadn’t come with anyone and women were not allowed to drive so she wouldn’t be able to get to Arrow house. Dorothy gave the man a genuine smile. No longer sad.
“If you really don’t mind.” Dorothy said. Her voice was soft. She was sweet. And there weren’t many people like that anymore and Alfie could tell that there was something wrong. And he didn’t want to engage In awkward small talk with his driver. When Alfie just wanted to blow his fucking brains out.
“Ay. Not at all” alfie said walking towards his car with Dorothy following behind him. Finn watched from the steps of the church. He knew he had to tell Tommy. He didn’t trust Alfie and he really didn’t trust Alfie around Dorothy. She didn’t know about the business that Tommy and Alfie had. So she was vulnerable.
Alfie opens the door for Dorothy and gave her his hand helping her inside the car. She sat down on the right side of the car. Tucking her purse in at her side. The driver gave Alfie a questioning look. But Alfie just nodded at him to drive.
“Who are you then. I’ve given you my name.” Dorothy smiled. At Alfie who nodded his head at her words. He was nervous that she would know who he was. And be scared of him. His name was well known. And many people already feared him.
“Alfie, Alfie Solomons” he told her leaning back in his seat in the car. His name sounded familiar. But Dorothy couldn’t exactly put her finger on it so she just left it. And shrugged it off and smiled at him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you mr Solomons, so what are you doing at my dads wedding?.” Dorothy asked. Not noticing the shocked look on Alfie’s face as the words came out of her mouth. But he tried to keep his cool.
“Me and tommy. We’re business partners. Didn’t know he had a a girl. Thought it was just the little one.” He said as he stared at Dorothy who’s expression suddenly changed. She looked sad. Really sad.
“Yeah, I was sent away. For school in London. I don’t even think he remembers me. I don’t think anyone does.” She said sadly looking down at her hands with a sigh. Now Alfie felt bad. And that was a rare thing. Alfie never felt sorry for people. Not even for himself.
“Maybe that’s a good thing ay. You don’t want to be with them. Bunch a bastards if ya ask me.” Alfie said his voice rough as he placed his top hat on his head. Dorothy giggled at his comment finding him funny as he cheered her up. Maybe this whole wedding wouldn’t be so bad.
“I suppose your right.” She laughed. Alfie watched as she did. The way the dimples on her cheeks became more visible and he got to see her beautiful hazel doe eyes. As the car pulled up to arrow house. Cars were all over the place and Alfie ordered his driver to pull up right at the door. And then to park the car once him and Dorothy were gone.
“Wait there” he told her with his thick London accent as he got out of the car. Dorothy did as he had said and remained in her seat. She was not sure as to why. But she did not bother to question him. Then her door opened and their Alfie stood with his hand out for Dorothy to hold so it was easy for her to exit the car.
The young woman smiled at him taking his hand in to hers. As she jumped down from the car. She thanked him as she strained her dress down. And Alfie’s hand left hers. So she used both of her hands to hold on to her bag. Her and Alfie walked in to the large home.
It was beautiful. This was far from what Dorothy remembered living in. She remembered a small home. With stained walls. And dirty floors. And this. This was amazing. She felt so left out. While she was still learning how to cook and clean. Everyone else was living life to the fullest.
But underneath her and Alfie. There was a meeting. And her name might just come up. Tommy took of his jacket with a cigarette hanging from his lips. As John and Arthur finally appeared on the stairs. Finn was eating whatever he could get his hands in and all of the other peaky boys made their way in to the room.
“Right boys, you’re all here. Today is my fucking wedding day.” Tommy was about to carry on with his speech before John interrupted him. “Yeah and you said. There’d be no bloody uniforms” John told his older brother angrily.
“Nevertheless… nevertheless, John…despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it in my carpet. Now for graces sake, nothing will go wrong. Those bastards out there are her family. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids. You do anything…” Tommy said in an angry rage once again before he was once again rudely interrupted.
“Tom?” Isaiah said and tommy turned to look at him his face still angry. “What about snow?” He asked curiously. “Yeah their women are sports I’ll say that…” John laughed bringing Isaiah in to a head lock. Scratching his scalp making the younger boy laugh.
“No. No. No. no cocaine. No cocaine. No sport. No telling fortunes. No racing. No fucking sucking petrol out of their fucking cars. And, you Charlie, stop spinning yarns about me, eh? “ tommy told everyone of the men individually.
“I’m just trying to sell you to them. Tom.” Charlie told his nephew. Finn was wondering when he should tell Tommy about Dorothy and the fact that Alfie was trying to get close to her. He knew that Tommy wouldn’t be happy. But then again Tommy hadn’t seen the girl in four years and no one other than Finn recognised her anyway.
“But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers, desire the provocation from the cavalry. No fighting, Oi! No fighting. No fucking fighting. No fighting. No fucking fighting.!” Tommy shouted at the men as he went and stood next to Arthur until a male maid bumped in to him. Tommy pushed the man to the floor. “Get the fuck off me!” And then Arthur through a glass at him.
“Tom. Dolly’s here. But she’s all different her hair it’s short and she’s well she’s wearing a dress.” Finn said out loud. All of the men turned ti look at him. Clearly shocked that Dorothy was here. Tommy looked the most shocked. He didn’t think she would really come. Especially after he had been a massive dick. He hadn’t written her a single letter. No one had. She spent four years off her life by herself. And now tommy was having to come to terms with all of his guilt.
Tommy didn’t say anything as he left the kitchen and back out to the party in the home. He searched around for a young woman matched the description of what Finn had told him dolly now looked like. But what he saw was not what he wanted.
His daughter sat with Alfie fucking Solomons
#finn shelby#peakyblinders#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinder imagine#arthur shelby#shelby!reader#alfie solomons imagine#arthur shelby imagine#tommy shelby angst#john shelby imagine#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby smut#michael gray smut#arthur shlby x reader#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x daughter!reader#peaky blinders imagine#finn shelby imagine#peaky blinders smut
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Blue Skies- Tommy Shelby
Summary: Sparks fly when a self-sufficient, newly single mother meets the cold-hearted bachelor gangster of Birmingham. On their first outing, it was like everything in the world was asking for them to finally meet each other. But when fate intervenes, they soon find themselves suffering the reprocussions of their own decisions.
Rating: Mature, Minors DNI plz
Warnings: Warnings will be advised on each chapter.
Story Playlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18
#peaky blinder fanfic#peakyblinders#tommy shelby#tommyshelbyxreader#tommyshelbyxlizziestark#alfie solomons x reader#lizzie stark#polly shelby#polly gray#arthur shelby#john shelby#esme shelby#grace burgess#one night stand#tw infidelity#x reader#reader insert#eventual smut#emotional hurt/comfort#angst and hurt/comfort#tommy shelby has issues
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I love alfie as the readers dad hahah, how about one where Y/N and Michael are having an argument and she tells her dad and he threatens Michael? Maybe a little angsty?
sounds good! thanks for the request, hope you enjoy 🤍
death wish — m.g
pairings ; michael gray x fem solomons!reader
summary ; you and michael argue about alfie sabotaging the peaky blinders, to which he blames it on you. michael says some horrible things to you which makes you upset. you tell your dad and alfie teaches him a lesson.
warnings ; slight angst, strong use of language, name calling (whore, coward, etc), arguing, shouting, threats, face grabbing, crying. — kind of happy ending
authors note ; i really like this one! i can totally see alfie being an overprotective dad. next time he might actually kill michael😳
“How the fuck is it my fault?” You scream at Michael in his mothers kitchen. “Because he’s your fucking dad” he shouts back. Polly is sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper, trying her best to ignore the two of you.
“That doesn’t mean it’s my fault, I can’t control what he does” your voice raises. Michael is blaming you for something your dad did again. Alfie is known for playing games with the Peaky Blinders, and he’s gone and done it again. This time, you’re put to blame by your own boyfriend.
Polly shakes her head while flipping the page over. You’re both giving her a headache in her own bloody house. “You’re the only fucking person he listens to, Y/n, just talk to the bastard and tell him to fuck off” Michael comes really close to your face at the end, only inches away from yours.
He’s intimidating to say the least but you never fear any man with Alfie Solomons as your father. “Michael” Polly warns him without taking her eyes off her newspaper. “It’s none of my business” you gulp as his threatening eyes stare into yours.
“Yes it is your business, if he always fucks with us, how do we know you won’t do the same?” He acts as if you’re some kind of traitor. “Is that really what you think of me?” You laugh. He clenches his jaw at the sound of your laughter. This angered him.
“Yeah that’s what I think of you, you’re the daughter of that fucking slippery bastard, no wonder you’re the way you are, nothing but a no good whore” he taunts, stepping away from you to put his hands on the kitchen table. Your mouth opens in shock and Polly drops her newspaper in her lap.
“Michael!” Her voice raises. She’s in disbelief of the way her son is speaking to his girlfriend. “What, mum?” Michael shouts, getting frustrated with both you and Polly. “Don’t you dare speak to her like that” she points her finger at him and he rolls his eyes.
“What, you’re on her side? After everything Alfie has fucking put us through?” Michael scoffs. You’re offended by his words but he’s just angry, he doesn’t really mean them. “I’m on no one’s side, Michael” His mum tells him.
“But for you to blame Y/n is wrong. Whatever her father decides to get up to us his own business, not hers, for Christ’s sake” Polly shakes her head. She’s mad at her son but she can’t control him. “Like I said, she’s the only person he listens to so she could do something about it, she just chooses not to” Michael uses sarcasm to speak about you as if you’re not in the room.
Polly rolls her eyes. There’s no point in arguing with him if he’s not going to listen. She picks up her newspaper and continues reading it. “It’s not that I choose not to, Michael, it’s that I don’t want to get involved with stupid little gang business with you and your coward cousins” you snap back at him, causing him to close his eyes and inhale a sharp breath.
He’s trying everything to stay calm and not lash out on you, but the way things are going, he’s ready to break any second. “You’re being a coward right now Y/n” he calmly says, avoiding looking at you. “No you’re a fucking coward Michael, always following orders from Tommy, what are you? His pet?” You laugh. Polly glares at you, telling you to shut up only with her eyes. She knows her son has a short temper, you’re only making things worse.
“Shut up” he says with his eyes shut. His fists balling up on the dining table. But you don’t listen. “But these aren’t Tommy’s orders are they? If Tommy wants to do something about my dad then so be it, but you need to stop acting so fucking tough when you’re too much of a little sap to do it yoursel—”
Your words were quickly cut short by Michael slamming his hands on the table, rushing to grab your jaw with a bruising grip. “Tommy doesn’t fucking tell me what to do” he nastily said through gritted teeth. “Michael!” Polly widens her eyes, hurriedly getting up to pull her son away from you.
“Tommy doesn’t own me, no one fucking owns me, so shut your mouth before I shut it for you, you hear me?” He threatens, his mother gripping his arm to pull him away but he nudges her off. “You hear me?” Michael shouts, making you flinch. “Michael, that’s enough” Polly says, not giving up on trying to pull him off you.
Michael’s eyes stare into yours. His blue eyes glowing with anger intimidates you, forcing you to nod. He scoffs, roughly ripping his hand away from your face. He walks away, his mum following him to scold him. You hear them shouting at each other but you take in no words. You’re too upset and shocked at the way Michael just treated you. Way too overwhelmed to stay, you rush out of the house in tears. Your house isn’t too far from Polly’s so you head home.
↛ at home
Walking into the house and slamming the door after yourself gains Alfie’s attention. “Hey kid, you alright?” He asks from the living room, peeking his head over to look through the doorway. You walk into the room, your dad instantly notices that you’re upset.
“What’s wrong?” He frowns as you throw yourself onto the seat next to him. “Michael…” you sob. He can barely stand Michael as it is, but now that he’s made you cry, he dislikes him even more. “What did he fucking do?” He asks in a protective tone, wrapping his arm over your shoulder to pull you close. He’s always been good at comforting you.
“He… he said it’s my fault that you always cause a war with Tommy” you cry as you explain, Alfie rubbing your shoulder to calm you down. “Did he?” His eyebrows raise. “Yeah… and he.. he called me a whore” you wipe your own tears away.
Those words were enough to make Alfie grab his gun and find Michael there and then. “A whore?” His tone changes. He went from comforting to angry in less than a second. “And he grabbed me and it hurt… but Polly pulled him away” you tell him. He listens to every word you say.
You explained everything else you felt like you needed to before Alfie got up and left. He was heading to Tommy’s house to sort things out between them, but really he was going to teach Michael a thing or two about messing with his kid.
↛ Tommy’s house, 1 hour later
Knocking on Michael’s office door, Tommy’s maid entered and told Michael he was needed downstairs. He heads down with a cigarette in his hand, opening the doors to Tommy’s office to see him, Polly and Alfie all stood. Michael rolls his eyes, knowing what’s coming for him.
“Don’t stand there and roll your eyes, get over here” Polly demands her son to do. Michael follows her orders, walking up to Tommy’s desk to toss his cigarette in the ashtray. He purposely walks closest to Alfie to stand next to his mother.
“What’s he doing here?” Michael asks with a spark of confidence in his voice as he sits down. Polly sits next to him but the other two men stay standing. “You know why I’m here, boy” Alfie’s tone is serious. “Me and Alfie talked business. We’re back on the same side, but I think you know why you’re in here, Michael” Tommy sighs, outing his own cigarette in the ashtray.
“Mhm” Michael hums in response. He seems bored. “Go on then, why are you here?” Tommy asks, feeling like he’s a primary school teacher solving conflict between two kids. Michael takes his time before responding. “Because of Y/n?” He rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, because of Y/n, now are you gonna tell me why you put your fucking filthy hands on my daughter?” Alfie asks, using hand gestures to show his anger towards the boy. Michael scoffs, looking at Polly. “No don’t look at your mother, look at me” Alfie demands, locking eye contact with Michael.
“I didn’t put my hands on her” Michael shakes his head. He didn’t recall grabbing her face meant putting his hands on her. “No? Then why’d she come home crying, saying you grabbed her and hurt her?” Alfie’s eyebrows raise. He’s trying to handle the situation but with how smug Michael is acting, he’s getting angry.
“Because she wasn’t fucking listening to me, she just kept going on and on about how you’re a coward and I’m just a sap who takes orders from you” Michael says, turning his head to Tommy who says nothing. He just blinks with a blank expression.
“You did call her a whore, Michael” Polly steps in and Michael rolls his eyes. With Polly as a witness, she told both Tommy and Alfie what happened before Michael had entered the room. “Yeah, well most of the time Tommy is a coward and you are just a sap who takes orders from him, but calling Y/n a whore is just the bottom line, ain’t it?” Alfie gets mad.
“Well she should stop acting like one” Michael mutters and Polly shakes her head. This could go easier if Michael would just follow. “What did you say?” Alfie asks, turning his ear to face him to hear what he said because mumbling under his breath won’t do him any justice.
“I said she should stop acting like one. She gets male attention all the time and she looks like she fucking enjoys it” Michael responds smugly. He and Alfie are just as pissed off as each other. “She’s a pretty girl, Michael, obviously she’s going to get attent—” Polly starts to say.
“You’re the only man she’s been with. She told me that herself. She fucking loves you, boy, and I’m giving you the privilege to go out with my daughter and you’re fucking it up all because being a Peaky Blinder has gotten to your fucking thick head” Alfie taunts to see Michael scoff. Tommy is just listening to every word that’s being spoken.
“And you’re just gonna allow that?” Michael asks, pointing at Alfie whilst looking at Tommy. Tommy shrugs, not saying a word to show he means not getting involved. Tommy doesn’t care about anything Alfie is saying about him or the Peaky Blinders, he just cares about solving conflict between them both.
“Alfie’s right, Michael. You used to be sweet to Y/n, I remember when you’d come home and tell me everything about her. You’d sit for hours going on about how pretty she is, how much you love her, how you want to marry her. Now being in this gang has gotten to your head” Polly tells him and he sighs.
This time Michael doesn’t have a snarky response or roll his eyes. He just sighs. He knows he’s in the wrong and listening to the words his mother just told him made him realise how different your relationship is now. “And Y/n would say the same. She wouldn’t shut up about this Michael boy, and now look at you, sitting in this room with me like it’s fucking parents evening at school” Alfie shakes his head.
“Yeah, well…” Michael shrugs. Unable to find a response. “You don’t want to lose a girl like Y/n, Michael, it will break your heart” Polly sighs, putting her hand on her sons arm. “There’s a hundred men in Small Heath who would die for a girl like her, and you have her, Michael” Tommy finally spoke, causing all three of them to turn their heads to look at him.
“Do you not hear how much your cousins say they’re jealous of you because Y/n chose to be with you and not them?” Polly recalls, speaking about John and Arthur which makes Alfie’s eyebrows frown. He doesn’t like the way men speak about his daughter, but now isn’t the time to curse out Tommy’s brothers.
Michael nods and looks down in his lap. He has nothing to say, but he’s full of regrets. The whole room can feel his emotions just by looking at him. After a few moments of silence, Alfie breaks it. “Go to my house and say sorry to her” Alfie almost orders Michael to do. “And buy her some flowers on your travels” Polly says, tapping his arm to let him go.
Michael stands up to leave the room. But before exiting, Alfie has one last thing to say. “Put your hands on my daughter again and you’ll have a death wish, boy, hear me?” He glares at Michael. The boy turns around to face Alfie. “Yes, sir” he nods before leaving the room. Tommy, Polly and Alfie are going to finish up talking about the business side of the conflict whilst Michael makes his way to you. He buys you flowers to show his sincere apology. He’ll make it up to you, maybe not right now, but some day.
#michael gray x y/n#michael gray x reader#michael gray#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders#michael gray angst#alfie solomons daughter#tommy shelby#polly gray
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Love Song (Tommy's POV)
Part Nineteen: No Harm
Part Eighteen out of Twenty-One (Or Twenty-Two, haven't decided yet)
Author's Note: Sorry for how short this is, and sorry for not responding to any of your guy's comments on the last part. I did read them, but I've been pretty overwhelmed with work recently and it just felt like Too Much.
Description: Tommy formulates a plan.
Warnings: language, references to trafficking, and poetic rambling
Word Count: 1559 (again, I'm so sorry.)
Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @majesticcmey @optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @fairytale07 @dreamy-caramel @ce1iat @algae-tm @dragonsondragons @trentknd @nothingofsimplicity @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28 @look-at-the-soul @notalxx @chaengist @cookiez56-blog @skxawngs @h0neylemon
I thought nothing would bring me to my knees like that night. A sapphire on bloodied, pale skin. A gunshot ringing in my ears. Bones cracking beneath my brother’s hands. Glass shattering on the man with the gun. Her weight going dead in my arms. I turn women into martyrs. Does that say more about me or of them? Do we care too deeply for each other, or do we care too little about ourselves that a sacrifice comes easy?
Once Arthur pulls the bullet from the muscle in my shoulder and once the blood is stemmed, I stand, stagger forward, and almost fall. He catches me with an arm around my back and mutters like a madman, words thick and full of anger. “Where did they take her, brother? Where did they take her?”
He shakes me to break me out of the stupor I swim in. My gaze stays rapt on the door where I last saw her, where a group of hardened men walked her out. She went willingly and I sat and watched. I did nothing to protect her.
“I don’t know, Arthur,” I say quietly. “I don’t know where.”
He shakes me roughly again. “You giving up? You letting that woman get taken by the kind of men who think little girls are all grown up and ready for them? She’s not fucking dead, Tom, use that head of yours and go get her out of there.”
There’s one person in this damned city who could tell me where to hunt. One person with the knowledge of quiet transportation, stealing someone from their fate, bringing them home or into hell. Whether he’ll give me the gift of his advice and help me take her back; that’s a gamble. That’s the game I have to play, and I know for a fact that he will play it, too, toy with me the way I toy with others. Smart as I am, that man. Smarter, even.
I nod slowly and Arthur releases me. I pull a cigarette from its box in my pocket and light it, an excuse to take a deep, smoke-filled breath. An expectation lingers in Arthur’s watchful eyes.
I turn to look at him, faint mirth twitching my lips. “You’re not going to like this.”
—
“Good morning, Mr. Solomons.” Seven hours since they took her. Seven hours since she was walked out of Arrow House and placed in a car and driven off somewhere where hell and earth merge. And I am wasting time with pleasantries, because Alfie has a propensity towards what he refers to as ‘tittle-tattle.’
“Yeah, it is.” He meanders from the window over to my desk, placing a hand on it, leaning his weight on the wood despite the cane in his other hand. “You’re lucky I was passing, weren’t you, because you still seem to believe that you are some god from some religion that has the power to summon up Jews of a particular standing.”
I nod vaguely, wait for him to continue, picking bits of information from his phrasing. Confusing man, he is, with a habit of mixing metaphors and twisting his own words. He takes patience, like a stallion who’s learned he’s bigger than the rest.
“I’ve heard that you took in a girl, didn’t ya, who’s opened her legs to just about every man I’ve met from France! Now, that’s something, now isn’t it? You, a man of some standing, and a girl who used to go from place to place with a collar around her throat and someone begging her to use one of her holes. Now, I don’t know which one she used for you, but word is, she’s got you wound tight. You do know how many of them there are, don’t you? I could get you a man, I could, who would bring you any girl you like. White slaves, and all, you know the like.” He sits down on the chair beside me. Light shines in from the window across from us and plays in his bright eyes, serving to make them almost transparent. “Best thing to do, mate, is to forget about her and stop asking those questions and killing those men, right? You’ve been fucking around with the slavers, now haven’t you, you silly boy?”
I raise my eyebrows and stand, walking over to the windows to stare out at the grounds. “You’ve been keeping tabs.”
“Yeah, well, I was curious, now wasn’t I?” His mouth twitches, not into a smile, but sideways, thoughtful.
The sentiment hovers between us. That I had stepped lower than my standing to be with a woman who hadn’t a clue about the life I live. He doesn’t realize who she is and how easily her world merges into mine. Basic understanding stays preserved through the horrors we both have witnessed. And now, for the first time, she needs me, instead of the other way around. She can’t protect herself against something as big as the organization she’s been taken by.
“Then you should know, Alfie, that she can survive it.” I keep my back to him, one hand on the sill, the other in my pocket.
“Just like you did when you came back from France and like your fucking family did when they put the nooses around their necks. Eh? Just like that, right?”
“Just like that, yes.” I turn to face him, walking forward to put both hands on my desk, looking down at him. “She will survive, and we will bring her home.”
“Yeah, about that, there’s someth—”
“You will be properly compensated once the job is done, Alfie.” I look down at the desk, working my jaw. Reaching down, I slide a piece of paper towards him. “You’ll find the sum appropriate.”
He pulls his spectacles out of his suit jacket, his hand trembling slightly, and peers down through them at the paper. He looks back up at me, eyes bright. “I do, yeah, I do. Suppose you want a miracle worked, do you?”
“Something like that.” I step back, drawing myself up and taking a deep breath, eyes still on the paper.
I pay for her life, for her freedom, in the same way men pay for her body and their own pleasure. It brings a boiling sensation to my stomach and my jaw tightens slightly.
“If you asked, I wouldn’t fuckin bring you a woman.” Alfie shakes his head. “Not from them, anyway.”
“I know.” I move around the desk and sit down next to him again. “While I waited for you to arrive, I formulated a plan.”
—
I don’t believe in God.
I once talked to Him while I stood in my grave. I asked Him to give me a reason and He never could. He looked down on the End and he saw that it was Bad. He turned his back on me, and I turned mine on him. An eye for an eye, like the bible says.
I believe in poets and I believe in lovers. I believe in soldiers and I believe in hatred. I believe in the innocent and the guilty and the men and women and in-between who fought for the right to their lives. I believe in Her.
I know we are not soulmates because I can’t feel what She feels, not at all. We will love each other on purpose when this is all over. We will choose to fight for each other like we do now. We will stop sacrificing for the other and start building.
I don’t believe in God.
This life, this brief glimpse of heaven on Earth, this is all we fucking get. Not what we expected but what we have, and for Her, I would waste this one life on fighting. I would go back into that tunnel, that birth canal, and I would defuse and defuse and defuse and light and light and light until there were bombs under the men who keep Her and a pathway for Her to crawl through, back through my grave, my mother’s womb, and out into the world.
I have always had a hatred for Cain. Am I my brother’s keeper? Yes. We are our family’s keeper. It is being human that bonds us together, and to kill kin is to kill yourself. I have tried to do both, accidentally, on purpose, the line blurs. I understand him, though, in a way. If I was not in God’s good graces, I would want to wander. I would want to roam. His punishment was wanderlust and still, there is more to see. Always more, more, more. No place to go but everywhere.
I don’t believe in God. But I believe in Her.
A defiant act of creation, both haunted and holy, chaotic mess of joy and fear and memories pounding between temples. She is the reason I get up in the morning, and She is the reason I can sleep at night. Like every beautiful thing, She is poisonous, and I know those who bite into Her flesh will feel Her wrath.
There is an intimacy beyond sex or love to self-destruction, and I promise to Her that I will not give to it. I will give to Her and only Her. She saw the worst of me and hardly flinched.
I don’t believe in God.
#only the wild ones#peaky blinders#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders x reader#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby angst#thomas shelby imagine#poetry#alfie solomons
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He's Still Haunting Me | Alfie Solomons x m!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ "I can take on anything, everything"+"Don't tell me you love me"
[Can this one also be angst? Idk if you want to put it in war time. Maybe Alfie reminiscing on a love he lost in the trenches??] ❞
: ̗̀➛ Goliath stumbles upon some old photographs in his uncle's attic, and has some questions about the man in them.
: ̗̀➛ War, blood and gore, death, trauma, grief
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
It had been years since Alfie had even seen your face; the photographs taken years ago were now collecting dust in the attic. He never thought that his nephew, Goliath, would find them; let alone throw them onto his desk and stare at his uncle with a morose, remorseful gaze.
Goliath was a good man, although his youth made him naive as to what had happened during the war; Alfie never liked to talk about it much with family, but he knew he couldn't excuse himself from it as he picked up one of the photographs with a trembling hand. He sniffled, shaking his head.
"Where'd you find these?"
"Your attic," Goliath replied, "who is he?"
Alfie sighed, dropping the photograph and running his hand down his face; already his vision was going blurry, and words seemed to fail as he struggled to regain his words properly enough to speak.
"He was the only fuckin' one who did me any good."
"Who is he?" Goliath pressed. "A friend?"
"Bit more 'an that," Alfie chuckled bitterly, sniffling as he cleared his throat and picked the photograph back up. "Remember how your mum always said that you was meant to have two uncles?"
The nephew nodded.
"He was meant to be the other one," Alfie whispered, "my mum... my mum loved him to bits..."
"Gran knew?" Goliath whispered.
Alfie nodded. "So did your mum... they knew what we was... didn't mind unlike some cunts..."
"Alfie..." Goliath frowned, furrowing his brows.
"It's alright, boy-o," Alfie held up his hand for a moment as he coughed, shaking his head. "He were my left hand, look. My fuckin' Lieutenant... went to war the very fuckin' second he found out I got conscripted... wouldn't fuckin' let me to without him... he were gonna be my husband... anywhere I went, he was fuckin' adamant he had to go, too... always fuckin' hauntin' me, that beautiful bastard."
Goliath stood up, gathering the photographs in his shaking, large hands. "I'm sorry for upsettin' you, Uncle, I just thought-"
"Sit down!" Alfie snapped, waiting for his nephew to obey before he continued, "you ought to fuckin' know about him, anyway. I was a selfish cunt for not tellin' you - that was always his thing, y'know."
"What was?"
"We was there when you was born," Alfie chuckled. "He held you when your mum slept and I... I always knew he'd have been a good dad - had the temper for it better than I ever fuckin' will."
"Mum never mentioned him."
"No," he sighed. "No one would... it still hurts..."
Alfie could still picture it even now, the sounds of the shells and the grenades roaring and spitting out flames; the feeling of the deep and wet mud vibrating and wobbling with the rumble of tanks. He could remember the white flash as Fokker DR.1 planes hunted down Airco DH.9s.
He could remember how he held you against his chest with his lips pressed to your forehead; able to feel your limp hand against his forearm. He was on his knees, eyes wide and wild and full of unshed tears; one hand cradled the side of your head, the other at your middle.
From the waist down, you were on your side, your free hand pressed against the ground as you struggled to keep yourself upright. You weren't even looking at him, the unwounded side of your head pressed against his chest while the blood on the other side seeped through his fingers.
Alfie knew.
He had killed you the second that he had allowed you to go to war with him. He had killed you, and all of his woe and his remorse could never be washed away.
He killed you.
His eyes, he could never close them the same way again; staring into nothing as he realised that he had become a monster. He had become evil; his brows were slightly scrunched together as if he were about to howl with loud sobs.
His mouth was agape as he kept rocking back and forth with your corpse, muttering under his breath.
"I can take on anything, everything, but I need you with me," he would say. "Please. Please. Don't tell me you love me, don't say anything, just don't leave me. Don't fucking leave me."
"Alfie?" Goliath cleared his throat as he swallowed thickly. "You good?"
Alfie shook his head. "I killed him."
"No."
"I let him go to the trenches," Alfie confessed, "if I'd have told him to stay with Gran and your mum... he would still be here... you'd know your other uncle..."
"How was you to know?"
"He was the smart one," Alfie huffed. "He'd have known... you would'a fuckin' loved him, can tell you that... he loved goin' up fuckin' mountains... never was a better lieutenant. Never was a better man..."
Goliath reached over as he frowned, holding his uncle's hand. "He's still here, y'know. He ain't left you."
Alfie laughed softly. "No, he ain't. He's fuckin' hauntin' me - why'd you think I'm always gettin' fuckin' daffodils in me garden? It's him! He's hauntin' me!"
Goliath laughed for a moment. "What if we puts up a memorial for him? Y'know, just for you, Mum and Gran?"
"He would've hated that," Alfie pointed out. "He never wanted nothin' more than to get me home... he didn't even see fuckin' armistice."
Goliath swallowed thickly as he let go of his uncle's hand and leaned back in his seat. "I... I'm sorry, Alfie... he meant a lot to you... and I'm sorry."
"It's alright," Alfie shook his head as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Now, g'wan. Go put they back... we'll talk more about it later, yeah? I'll tell... I'll tell you all the things that my Lieutenant would've shot me for fuckin' sayin'."
Goliath smiled as he gathered up the photographs. He still couldn't quite believe that no one had told him about his uncle by marriage before, but he could understand why; Alfie was haunted by the war more than anyone else in the family, it made sense he didn't want to speak about losing the man he loved to it.
#mlem writes#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons x y/n#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fic#peaky blinders angst#peaky blinders#tom hardy x reader#tom hardy x you#tom hardy x y/n#tom hardy imagines#tom hardy imagine#tom hardy one shot#tom hardy oneshot#tom hardy fanfiction#tom hardy fanfic#tom hardy fic#tom hardy
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Assistant to the Villain got me by the cover title...
fortunately I read/watched a review or two and figured this book is not for me (since apparently the "plot" has very little to do with the title 😒) BUT I did like the idea, so I'm writing it...
The question is:
#a little bit of angst#a lot of pining#and then they were roommates#chaos and mischief#a sprinkle of Nimona vibes#villain x sidekick#poll#my polls#darkling x reader#billy russo x reader#alfie solomons x reader#wip stuff
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𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙏 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
angst prompts;
“We don’t want to do this, I know. But we need this”
“Why didn’t you say h-how bad it was?”
“You’re not worth crying over”
“Everything is temporary, this was just one of those things.”
”They told me to make sure you’re okay”
“You hurt me more than you will ever know ___”
“You deserve better than this”
“People don’t like me, I don’t care”
“It’s easier when you’re around, so why did you leave?”
”I didn’t want to hurt you”
”Please don’t say anything, just stay. Please?”
”I would do anything to make this work”
”We can start over. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t leave again.”
”Why don’t you see that? Why don’t you see me?”
“Everything must come to an end eventually.”
”I thought we were okay, I thought you were okay.”
”I can’t do this without you”
”Please don’t do this!”
”Do you hate me?”
“The worst part of all of this is that I still love you.”
“Don’t kiss me, you don’t get to do that to me.”
“You’re a mess; have you been crying?”
“I can tell you’ve been crying.”
“You’re here.” “I’m here, just like I promised.”
“I came back for you. I told you I would, and I did.”
“You’re always in my head, no matter where, no matter when.”
“I can’t love you anymore, I want to hate you, so desperately.”
“I knew from the moment I met you, you were special. But not special enough.”
“We never were, and never will be. I’m sorry.”
“I did something. And you’ll hate me for it.”
“Do you think I liked hurting this much?”
“Please - please look at me.”
“Please, not again.”
“Not everyone is out to hurt you.”
“I-I’m trying, I really am..”
“Please, just kiss me. One last time? It’s all I ask..”
“I can’t sleep, can I stay with you?”
“You won’t believe me..” “Try me.”
“Is it too late?”
“I needed you. And you weren’t here.”
“I want my life back.”
“No, don't. It’s not safe.”
“Don’t touch them!”
“I’ll never let you go”
“I thought I lost you”
“You could’ve died!” “I didn’t-” “Yeah, well, you were too damn close.”
“There’s nothing you can do. So please, just hold me one more time.”
“Come back, please!”
“Someone help me! Please!”
“Please, anyone but them.”
“I know it hurts.”
“I just need to be alone.”
“I’m so, so very sorry.”
“It’s better this way.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“I love you so. “Please let me go.”
“You’re hurting me.” “So?”
“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
“There’s no shame in crying, you know?”
“Don’t do this to yourself.”
“Let me help you, please?”
“Stop pushing everyone away.”
“You haven’t been yourself lately, are you okay?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong this time.”
“Hold my hand.”
“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
“I’m a monster, aren’t I?”
“I can’t take this anymore.”
“Why are you holding me like this?” “Cause if I let go, I won’t be able to hold you again.”
“I’m begging you, please don’t shut me out.”
“You won’t need me anymore.” “I think I’ll always need you.”
“I have the right to be worried!”
“I’m just trying to help you!” “Well don’t!”
“I’m your friend, of course I care!” “I don’t want to be your friend!"
hurt/comfort prompts;
“Can you please come and get me?”
“I’m at the hospital, I’m okay, I promise.”
“Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself, don’t do that”
“When was the last time you slept?”
“You’re hot.” “Thanks?” “I mean you’re burning up.” “Oh.”
“No, no, don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.”
“Because nobody likes me! No one cares about me!”
“I care about you, okay?!”
“Please don’t leave me alone.”
“You’re bleeding!”
“Nightmares again? They can’t hurt you.”
“Hey look at me, breathe, just breathe.”
“Please sleep, you haven’t in so long.”
“Stop telling me you’re okay.”
“I don’t know where I am, please come find me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Don’t touch me!”
“I just need a hug”
“I got you, okay?”
“Can I stay in here?”
“Shh, I’m here.”
“Losing you is my worst nightmare”
“I wish you could see you the way I see you”
“Did you really have to be so honest?”
“I don’t know what I want”
“I still need you.”
“You promised me!”
“I gave you all I had!”
“Don’t let me do this.”
“You deserve better than me.”
“I thought you’d be here..”
“I’ll never be that me again.”
“You can still be good.”
“Don’t act like you know me!”
“Because I care about you, okay?”
“It wasn’t supposed to end like this..”
“Am I supposed to just let you go?”
“You don’t mean that..”
“Please, just hold me.”
“You look awful.”
“I can’t lose you too.”
“It’s not your fault..”
“I don't know who I am anymore.”
“You’re not alone anymore”
“You don’t have to do this alone”
“I don’t care what they think, you’re my everything.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.”
“You’re not gonna lose me, I promise.”
“I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay.”
sickness/injury prompts;
“Tell me where it hurts.”
“How did this happen?
“Let me see.”
“How bad is it?”
“Can you carry me?”
“I can’t move.”
“Don’t move!”
“I can’t see.”
“I’m sorry, this is going to hurt.”
“I can’t feel anything.”
“You’re burning up.”
“I-I threw up.”
“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.”
“When did this happen?”
“How long have you felt like this?”
“ why didn’t you tell me it hurt so bad?”
“It’s only a scratch - o-oh..”
“I fell down..”
“Please make it stop.”
“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse.”
“I can’t get up.”
“I can’t do this on my own, I need you.”
“It really hurts.”
“My head hurts..”
“You’re shaking, why?”
“Do you even see how pale you are?”
“You’re not fine, you need help.”
“I can’t sleep knowing you’re not okay.”
“Do you have any ibuprofen?” “you took three twenty minutes ago..”
“How many did you take?”
“I’ll clean you up real good, don’t worry. You’re safe.”
“Why is there so much blood?”
“Is that your blood?”
“I’m gonna fix you up, okay?”
“Stop making me laugh, my stomach hurts.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen, I’m here, okay?”
“I have to do this, or you’re gonna die!”
“I know it hurts.”
“I love you too much to leave you here.”
“Is it that hard to ask for help?”
“You’re okay? Really? Cause you look far from it right now.”
“Hey, you gave me quite the scare, kiddo.”
“I think that nurse has a crush on you.”
“I just want to go home.”
“I’m so, so tired.”
“Hey, wake up!”
“Just keep looking at me, okay? Eyes on me okay? I’m almost done, and then you sleep, but right now you need to keep your eyes on me.”
“Focus on my words, stay with me.”
“You’re doing great, just stay awake.”
“You can’t sleep now, it’s not time to sleep.”
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
“Hey! Hey, hey, hey, I’ve got you, you’re okay.”
“No, no, no! Stay with me please!”
“It’s okay, we’re okay.”
“No, please! Take me instead!”
“I’m not leaving your side, you hear me?”
“They’ve had enough! Please! Stop!”
“This is all my fault, I should never have left you..”
“All this time, I never knew, I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t deserve any of this.”
“I’m coming closer, is it okay if I touch you?”
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“Leave them alone!”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“___? ___? Wake up! It’s just a nightmare!”
“I’m dying, there’s nothing you can do.”
“It hurts so much, make it stop, please.”
“How bad is it?”
“I knew this would happen sooner or later.”
“Please get up.”
“I swear to god, if you die on the way back I’ll kill you myself.”
“Don’t move, you’ll make it worse.”
“Is everything supposed to be dark?”
“How are you still standing?!”
“You could’ve died you idiot!”
fluff prompts;
“You’re hair is so soft.”
“You smell good. Like, really good.”
“You’re my new pillow.”
“We can talk over dinner, how about that?”
“Don’t get up, I’ll do it.”
“Can you rub my back?”
“I’ll always be here for you.”
“You’re so beautiful/handsome.”
“I will always protect you, no matter what.”
“You make me believe in love.”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
“Don’t be silly, I want to stay with you.”
“Shush and go back to bed.”
“How about a kiss?”
“I’ll do the dishes tonight, you relax.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You make me feel safe.”
“Everything just feels right with you.”
“God, I love you.”
“I love seeing you happy”
“Let me take care of you, please?”
“You’re my family.”
“You make me feel alive again”
“I need you to know, I’m always gonna be here. Rain or shine, light or dark, I’m here.”
“You’re intoxicating.”
“We can just sit here, we don’t even have to talk.”
“I trust you, more than I trust myself.”
“You have a beautiful soul.”
“Your eyes are captivating.”
“Everything you do has a touch of magic to it.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me. Not with me. Not ever.”
“You make everything easier.”
“Hold me, please?”
“You’re more than enough.”
“You’re my hero, so let me be yours too.”
“I like how your hand fits in mine.” “Oh don’t be so cliche.”
“I needed to hear your voice, it fixes everything.”
“Wait, don’t get up, not yet.”
“Five more minutes?”
“I really like holding you, my love.”
“I can’t get over how a few months ago I didn’t even know your name, and now I get to wake up beside you.”
“I didn’t know it was possible to smile so much.”
“I’m cold, come back.”
“You said you wouldn't laugh!”
“Stop moving, I’m almost done!”
“Don’t be nervous, you can come closer.”
“Carry me?”
“You’re shivering, here, take my jacket.”
“You.. sorry, you just got a little something on your face”
“You stayed?” “Of course I stayed, you’re here. Where else would I be?”
“Hey, everything’s gonna be fine. Stay where you are, I’m on my way.”
“Oh I found this in the mall and thought of you!”
“Wow, you look amazing.”
“I made breakfast if you’re hungry?”
“You’re freezing!”
“This calls for cuddles.”
“I’m happier with you”
“I like having you here”
“Just tell me what you need, alright?”
“Why are you smiling like that?” “Smiling like what?” “Like you just won the lottery, that kind of smile.” “Because I did.”
“I’m all yours, I’m not going anywhere.”
“C’mere, let’s get some air”
“Who did this to you?”
“I love you so much it hurts”
“Can I come in? I’m worried about you.”
“Can I walk you home?”
“I sometimes wish you could see yourself with my eyes..”
“Is that my shirt?”
“Don’t think I won’t carry you!”
“You’re not sleeping on the couch, come on get in here.”
“Please talk to me, it’s killing me seeing you this way.”
“You look better in my clothes than I do”
“I believe you.”
“You can tell me anything.”
“Can I play with your hair?”
“Did you just kiss me?”
“If you cry, i’ll cry - and that won’t be fun for anyone”
“I’ve dreamt about this”
“Wow you’re photogenic”
“Quick , kiss me!”
“”You don’t want me, I’m broken.” “I’m going to spend the rest of my life putting you back together.”
“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”
“Have you seen my hoodie?” “Nooo.” “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”
“Have you always been this beautiful?”
“”You’re so pretty I think I’m gonna faint.”
“Do you think the moon is jealous of how stunning you are?”
“I missed you so damn much.”
“Are we about to kiss right now?”
“Please just kiss me already.”
“Can we just stay like this forever?”
“I will love you til the end of time.”
“Thank you.” “For what?” “Being you.”
“Hey sunshine.”
“I’ve never felt like this before, and it scares me.”
“I could get used to this whole domestic thing.”
“You deserve the world and more.”
“This might sound selfish, but I don’t care about the world! I only care about you!
“Say it again. Please, I need to hear you say it again.”
“Kiss me you idiot.”
“Wait, you love me?”
how they say “i love you” prompts; (creds to p0ck3tf0x)
“Pull over, I’ll drive for a while.”
“I saw this, it reminded me of you.”
“No, no it’s my treat.”
“Come here, let me fix it.”
“I’ll walk you home.”
“Have a good day at work.”
“I dreamt about you last night.”
“Take my seat.”
“I saved a piece for you.”
“You can have half.”
“Take my jacket, it's cold outside.”
“Can I have this dance?”
“I made your favourite!”
“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
“Watch your step.”
“Here, drink this .You’ll feel better.”
“I thought you might like this.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Just because.”
“Look both ways!”
“Want to try some?”
“Drive safely!”
“Just one more chapter?”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“It looks great on you.”
“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”
“That’s okay, I bought two.”
“After you.”
“We’ll figure it out, okay?”
“Can I kiss you, please?"
types of kisses;
-goodbye kisses
-hello kisses
-breathless kisses
-heated kisses
-first kisses
-holiday kisses
-comforting kisses
-”I thought I lost you” kisses
-”we can’t do this” kisses
-”come to bed” kisses
-”you look beautiful/handsome” kisses
-”i’ll be right back” kisses
-hand in hair kisses
-neck & collarbone kisses
-the “i’m so madly in love with you” kisses
-the “shut up” kisses
#eddie munson#steve harrington#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x female reader#stranger things#steve harrington angst#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#robin buckley#st4#dustin henderson#tommy shelby#alfie solomons#fear street#slashers#slasher x reader#michael myers#jason vorhees#bo sinclair
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I’m listening to Ultraviolence by Lana Del Ray and I can’t shake the feeling of a fic with Arthur based off this song. I feel like it fits him so well! I can just imagine a toxic relationship between him and the reader where he hits her or harms her in some way (intentional or not) but she keeps going back to him
“He hit me and it felt like a kiss..”
Plssss lmao the way this works so well
No need to do anything with it, just wanted to share because I know you’re a slut for Arthur like I am
“Because I know you’re a slut for Arthur” SIS YOU’RE SO RIIIIIGHT. HE’S MY SOFT KITTEN. 😩
Ultraviolence || Dark!Arthur Shelby x Reader
TW: angst ++, abusive husband, toxic relationship, depiction of domestic violence, alcoholism, if you think this trope have a good ending you should not read it, no proof reading: this is raw, unedited and prolly super badly written??
Words: 1k
Each inch gained by the clock’s needle, your heart raced more as if it feared to be pierced by its the sharp steel. Nibbling on your fingers’ skin compulsively, you sat on the large luggage you prepared one hour ago because you knew that when Arthur came home after midnight, he was not the man you fell in love with anymore. His gruff voice, usually lavishing you with the sweetest pet names he could find, would call you deadly nightshade — because when you looked at him with fear and fury in your oh-so- beautiful but teary eyes, it felt like a caustic poison was running through his veins, burning him from within and dissolving his sanity.
The door opened, your soul wept.
“Oi Y/N, where the fook are ye?” The gravel in his tone, who used to make you shiver with desire, sent shivers of fright down your spine. You took a deep breath, struggling to keep composure: this night would be the last you suffered from his violent love. After months of hesitating, coming back to him almost crawling, you decided that this nightmare had to stop. Somehow, you knew you had to flee from his claws before you ended up dead and cold — either by suicide or by his hands.
He stumbled in the living room, an empty bottom of whisky hanging from his hand. His steel blue eyes, half closed due to the amount of alcool he drank and cocaine he snorted, were looking for you, “Bloody hell Y/N, a good wife always welcome her husband when he comes back home. So be a good fookin’ woman and come greet your ol’ Arthur with the warmth he fucking deserve.” He grunted, before his frightening gaze fell on you.
He looked at you, and you could hear the sirens howling in the back of your head.
“What the hell?” He whispered at the sight of your packed stuff, slowly understanding your intentions, “Are you fucking serious?”
“I can’t do this anymore Arthur,” words left your mouth, falling from your quivering lips, “This is going to kill me… I’m sorry.”
“You wanna leave me?” He asked, bewildered. The sound of the bottle shattering on the wooden floor echoed in the living room, answering to the screams of his own heart breaking. You hated yourself at the idea of hurting him but you could not do it anymore, loving him was really hard. At first your thought it would be enough to save him, to heal his soul and mind, but love was not enough— your love was never enough.
“I’m sorry.” You got up and grabbed your luggage, before making your way to the door. Yet, Arthur firmly grabbed your wrist as you passed by, his grip so sharp it bruised your skin almost instantly.
“You’re not going anywhere, love.”
“Let me go. Please Arthur, if you love me you have to let me go.”
“I said you’re not. Going. Any-fookin-where.” He retorted, his hoarse voice growling with more hatred as anger boiled within him.
“Let me go you fucking bastard!” You bursted out, panic overwhelming your aching soul as you felt his nails digging into your skin.
The horrific sound of the blow that followed made the skies shook with sorrow. Pain stung your cheek, its burning sensation spreading on all the left side of your face. You let out a woeful whimper, tears flowing from your eyes almost instantly. He hit you, and it felt like a kiss, because it was his way of loving you when he was drunk.
“YOU AIN’T LEAVING ME, YOU POISON. I’M ARTHUR FUCKING SHELBY RIGHT?” He barked.
His hand grabbed you a second time — but it was not to make you dance anymore, like he used to do when you were kids.
Pain rain down on you,
With his ultraviolence
Ultraviolence.
“I’m … Im so sorry…” Arthur kept saying over and over again, his hands on both side of his head as he pulled his own hair, devastated with the view of crimson stains on your face.
Panicking, he then grabbed your chin and almost suffocated you with his lips, assaulting your bleeding mouth with desperate kisses, “I’m so sorry Y/N, it won’t happen again. I just don’t know what crossed my mind, it wasn’t me… it was the fucking whisky! The bloody snow! I won’t do it again, I swear doll I will never hurt you anymore… I— I love you… God I love you so much I’ll die without you.”
His blue eyes overflowed with tears of gold, like lemonade.
“Arthur… I —“ Words choked in your throat as you saw him cry. The monster had left, leaving him sobbing like a beaten child. He raised your gaze toward yours when you called him, and you knew he was your gentle Arthur again.
But you could not forgive him again and again.
Could you?
He would be the death of you.
“Please, I’ll do anything for you. Please, Y/N.”
The cacophony of your mind almost made you wince, for your thoughts crashed against your skull in a messy bacchanalia. Run away, you had to run away… so why did your body remained petrified? Why did you gently stroke his hair, looking at him, desperately in love?
It was stronger than you, stronger than reason, you hated to see him cry. You despised the way he was hating himself, genuinely guilty.
But you had to go.
To go.
But you stayed.
Don’t beg, stop telling me you love me. Please.
Please I can’t. It’s never enough.
Give me all of that ultraviolence.
“I love you too, Arthur. I love you forever.” Your voice was merely a whisper as warm blood ran from your nostrils, tainting your lips and dying on your chin. Your fingers gently grazed his neck as you knew he loved — all you wanted was to stop his pain. To see him smile with that stupid, irresistible grin that made you fall for him.
“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” His lips laid a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, the tip of his tongue tasting the blood. His voice was filled with sincere love, “I’ll change. I swear to God I’ll change for you,” Somehow he really believed in what he said, but the truth was he would never change… And you knew it.
“You won’t lose me — maybe you could — help me putting my stuff back where they belong?” You stuttered, your whole body about to collapse in his arms for it just wanted to feel his touch.
“Of course I’ll do.”
Arthur smiled.
You did too.
But Angels cried,
for they knew that he hurt you and it felt like true love.
Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me honey, know that you can make yourself at home in my ask box, especially when it’s about babyboy Arthur.
I love this Lana’s song so much, and I completely understand the vibes you felt. It would suit so well in a Dark!Arthur fic — in fact I loved it so much I could not help but write a little something for ya! Even though I do feel in-character Arthur would be far too terrified to hurt Reader and would not physically harm . Maybe being rougher, bruising her with his grip without doing it on purpose. But he would not hit her (cf: office scene with Linda in S5). Yet — I decided to go dark with this one because, as you said, “he hit me and it felt like a kiss” is just perfect for this sad trope.
#arthur shelby#arthur Shelby x reader#Peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinder#Peaky blinders x reader#Peaky blinder x reader#Tommy Shelby#John Shelby#Michael gray#Alfie Solomon’s#Arthur Shelby angst#peaky blinder imagine#Peaky blinder angst#request
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Rain in Hell ~ Alfie Solomons x Reader (Fluff/Angst)
[Masterlist] [Taglist]
Summary: Alfie quite sure he is dead, but the sound of rain really complicates things
Note: Written for @raincoffeeandfandoms and her 2,2 k celebration (hope I'm not too late).
All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.
Warning: mention of injury, hell and death
Wordcount: 823 words
The first thing he could hear was the rain.
For a long while he only ever just listened to the constant sounds of the drops hitting the roof, like a thousand tiny feet running around in giddy joy, or dancing maybe, a fast, fun dance, not the kind those toffs did in their stiff shirts and tight concerts, a proper dance - accompanied by laughter and claps.
Later he wouldn’t have been able to tell if the thought had hit him a mere moment after hearing the sounds or hours, if not days later.
There’s no fuckin’ rain in hell.
Granted, the teachings were full of contradictions, but that would negate the whole bloody concept, but then again it was more than just fire stuff.
No, there wouldn’t be any fucking rain in hell.
Still, the thought grew ever stronger in Alfie’s mind.
When he woke up again, or at least somewhat, that thought remained with him. He was in pain, in worse pain than he had ever been before, and he could barely move, let alone open his eyes.
But he could hear.
Yes, Alfie heard the rain, sometimes more, sometimes less, sometimes a proper shower, other times hardly a trickle, but it always came back.
Sometimes the rain was drowned out by the murmur of voices, though he couldn't quite understand what they were saying.
Alfie also felt people touching him, rolling him over, brushing along his face or his limbs although that may have been an illusion.
Mostly, if he wasn't sleeping, he was in pain and in that smaller sensations were often lost in the greater agony.
But he could smell.
Alfie smelled the bitter scent of alcohol, though it was neither rum, or whisky or gin. Still, it was infinitely better than the sickly sweet smell he had grown to learn belonged to wounds years ago.
And yet through all these strong and powerful scents, he smelled a hint of rosemary and vanilla.
Now that was worse than the rain because this couldn't be right at all.
For all his faults, his poor eyes and rough hands, Alfie Solomons had an excellent sense of taste and smell.
He never did forget the smell of his mother's cheap perfume, or the first fancy shaving cream he had stolen, nor would he ever forget the scent of Ollie's shoe shine and that biting piss poor excuse of whs Darby Sabini called cologne.
And he knew that smell of rosemary and vanilla.
Now most women wore perfume, spraying it on their wrists and necks, or scented lotions and used sweet smelling soaps.
Not her. Never her.
Alfie could've gotten her the perfume of Empresses and the lotions of Queens, she never would have touched it, would she?
Didn't want it messing with her recipes, with her cakes and her pastries, with those hard-crusted breads and sweet biscuits, with any ingredient she handled and every thing she created with those crafty little hands of hers.
Such little hands, he remembered, and the way she had kneaded dough with them for hours, having more strength in them than most of his boys in their entire body.
Yes, they were strong hands, and often dry after a long day of work, but they smelled of rosemary, of vanilla, cinnamon and lemon zest, of cumin and salt.
Now, Alfie could have accepted it with the rain, but this smell was too much.
That wasn't the smell no, no, no. That was the smell of heaven.
So why the fuck was he still smelling it? Sometimes stronger, sometimes fainter, just like he could hear the sounds of the rain.
If he was dead, then this wouldn't be all too bad, apart from the pain, with the calming sounds and the most pleasant smells.
Unless, of course it wasn't the afterlife.
It did seem a bit too kind for someone like Alfie, with all he had done, if he was truly honest with himself.
But if he wasn't dead and he was still hearing and smelling and smelling her that would mean she was here and that couldn't be right. Right?
She wouldn't have come back to him, not after all these years since their parting.
She'd gone off to big shiny new America with her family and he had remained here in dirty ol' London.
How would she even know to come?
No, she had no business being here, no reason, not after all this time.
Still Alfie couldn't help but wonder, as he listened to the sounds of the rain.
If maybe by some unlikely miracle an archangel had indeed gone and plucked her right out of her home to fly her across the ocean back to him, then he'd have to get his head clear and get it together.
He'd have to start paying closer attention, to listen to the sound of her voice, to open his eyes and search the room for her.
If his girl really could be here, then quite frankly Alfred Solomons had no fucking business being dead, nor any intention to.
~
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Dear Flor @raincoffeeandfandoms congratulations once more on your milestone. I left my comfort zone of Tommy-ness on your behalf and tried my hand at Alfie. I hope you enjoyed it!
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#valentineswritings#alfie solomons#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons / reader#alfie solomons x reader imagine#alfie solomons / reader imagine#alfie solomons fluff#alfie solomons x reader fluff#alfie solomons / reader fluff#alfie solomons x reader angst#alfie solomons / reader angst#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fluff#peaky blinders angst
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