#alfie solomons fluff
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gentle giant
Summary: The Solomons enjoy quality family time with their young baby daughter as per request by @j23r23
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader
Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of pregnancy and natural childbirth, oc!daughter, hints at smut
SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG.
"She can't even play with that yet, Alf. She's too small" you told him when he brought home a large and lavish dollhouse, carried up to your daughter's nursery room by a couple of his men.
"Course she can't now. But, she will someday. Nothing but the best for my little Laura."
You chuckled and shook your head at his excitement, deciding to let him be happy because he genuinely was.
He has never been prouder of anything in his life.
It was needless to say that Alfie wasn't like most fathers of the time. Every day, you woke up feeling blessed and fortunate enough to be his wife.
Now, you are the mother of his child. Of his first born princess that he was already spoiling with all the finest little clothes and toys.
It's been a few months since you'd brought Laura into the world and Alfie's pride radiated as if he'd just learned he was going to be a father. Having expected the high of newfound fatherhood to fade away with late night nappy changes and early morning hungry cries, you were surprised to find that he was still so thrilled about being a father.
Not only was he proud of his little Laura, but he was still amazed beyond comprehension at your body.
During the pregnancy, he constantly marveled at the growing bump in your belly. Alfie was no fool; he understood perfectly well how a woman's body works, yet it was still the greatest miracle to him.
He never stopped calling you a Goddess for having the power to create life.
The birth of your daughter left him complete ecstasy.
Most men, especially in Jewish traditions, it was uncommon for the father to be present in the room for such a thing. But, then again, Alfie was no common man. He was always far from ordinary.
He insisted on being present to watch the miracle himself.
You'd talked about it before and assured him the midwives would take care of you. After all, he had hired the best staff to take care of you before, during and after the pregnancy.
He still continue to insist on being present - as long as you were comfortable with his presence - to watch his beloved daughter come into the world. He would've brought her out of you himself if only he knew how.
You wondered if it might have been instigated by the jealous thought of having a doctor between your legs.
You were more than grateful that he had insisted so strongly because you truly believe that, if it hadn't been for his motivating words and endearing support, you couldn't have done it by yourself.
Alfie had never cried so much in his entire life as he did when he first heard Laura's cries. You knew right away that Laura would have him wrapped around her wrinkly little finger.
And you were right.
It's late evening when Alfie comes home from an exhausting long day of work.
After hanging his hat and coat, he greets his favorite dog and heads off to search for you and his little Laura only to find you naked in the luxurious porcelain tub of your bathroom with your young 6-month-old daughter, sharing a warm bath.
"Well, ain't this a sight for sore eyes, eh?" he smirks from the doorway.
His heart warms as he sees your eyes light up.
"Baths always help her sleep better."
"Can't blame her," he nods unbuttoning his shirt. "Any room for me?"
"There's always room for you."
Of course there is. You hardly get much time to spend with your husband. The absence has him yearning for his family just the same.
He sinks into the opposite side of the tub with a tired groan, raising the water level to your swollen breasts.
"Give 'er here. Give 'er to poppa."
You carefully handed your daughter over to his hands.
Alfie holds her against his naked burly chest, kissing her head and cheeks as he informs her how much he's missed her in the softest tone.
"Daddy's missed you so much, princess. Yes, I have. Barely got see my little angel today. But that's alright, yeah? Poppa's here now, ain't he? You been good for your mother? Behaved yourself?" he questions as if she could respond, taking the small bowl to fill with water before gently pouring it over her back.
You watch leaning back against the porcelain, and admire the vulnerability of the big bad Alfie Solomons.
The word that spread around only spoke how cruel and cunning he was; of the horrors he was capable of and enjoyed inflicting upon those who betrayed him.
Yet, only you know how he could be the complete opposite. This version of him was for your eyes only and, for that, you felt blessed.
With his large hand cupped over Laura's little bare bum, he smiles as he relishes in the sounds of her giggles emitted every time he pours water over her back.
"Yeah, you like that, eh?" Alfie chuckles. "Want another go?"
She squeals happily as he repeats the action, excitedly pulling at his burly chest hair.
He yelps as he tries to unlatch her tiny fingers from his hairs.
"Got the grip of the Devil, don't she?"
"Tell that to my hair. Have to keep it up all the time so she doesn't turn me bald" you smile at him.
She giggles more enthusiastically as she pulls at them again.
"Ow! Laura, I am your father, young lady" he playfully chastises her.
"I think she takes after you."
"How so?"
"She enjoys hurting others."
"No, I enjoy hurting those who deserve it. I done nothing to deserve this" he chuckles at you.
"That's nothing compared to her biting my tits. If you think she's got hands of the Devil, try her teeth."
"They're starting to come in, innit?" he asks gently pulling her chin down to examine the two little white spots on her lower gums. "You never complained when I nibbled on them" he continues shooting a smirking glance at you.
"That was different" you chuckle back.
"I can be gentle" he replies with a wandering gaze at your chest.
"No. They're sore as fuck, Alf. They're off limits tonight."
"They're irresistible, they are. Fucking tripled in size, innit?" he chuckles. "Fucking 'ell, love. God is a cruel bloke, He is."
You laugh shaking your head. Alfie never fails to make you feel like a goddess, despite the worries you had about your changing body. It was exactly uncommon at the time for men to lose interest in their wives after pregnancy.
You'd seen many women go through it and you feared your fate would've been the same.
Thankfully, pregnancy had the opposite effect on Alfie. He was already eager to get started on the second child.
"All I'm saying is Laura will need a sibling when she's older."
Alfie's debating continued even after your shared bath. You're trying your cotton robe closed as he carries Laura into your bedroom where you had laid out her sleeping clothes beforehand.
"You say that all the time."
"Doesn't it make it less true. Besides, the fun part is trying."
Laying Laura down on the bed with a smirk, he stands upright and faces you.
The way he holds your waist has you melting under his touch. You take advantage of the moment to admire his details.
The wrinkles on his forehead, the disheveled light brown locks shining in the warm light of your room, the hairy tuffs that were peeking out from his robe.
You slide your palms up his strong arms until they rest on the back of his neck.
"Alright. I'll put her down for bed and we can have some fun time of our own" you smile sweetly at him.
His plush lips - hidden in his bushy brown beard - spread widely with mischief and excitement, infecting you with arousal as they made their way to press against your own.
You kiss him deliciously, letting his hand rest against your soft cheek. His tongue flicks against your bottom, already begging for entrance. You allow him it.
The kiss is more than enough to fuel the fire already sparked inside, in the depth of your cores. But you're both brought back to reality when Laura tiredly whines and rubs her sleepy eyes, kicking her chubby legs in the air out of frustration.
You part from Alfie's loving hold on you and bend down to scoop Laura up into your arms, assuring her everything is alright in gentle whispers.
Alfie watches how your loving nature is quick to soothe your fussy daugther in admiration. He loves watching you with her. His wife with his daughter in arms. His family.
All the words in every language would never be enough to describe the joy and pride you bring out in him.
Getting Laura to fall asleep is hardly a challenge. She was already tired from the long day and from staying up a bit past her bedtime.
Once you get her warmly dressed for the night, you sit in her nursery's rocking chair to give her one last feed.
She latches onto your nipple quickly, staring up at you with big doey eyes. The mixture of blue and gray remind you of Alfie. Her long lashes flutter as she slowly blinks, suckling for milk as she holds your index finger in her tiny hand.
You hum as you let her drink her fill, hoping to lull her sleep.
She can't resist the building sleep no matter how hard she tries. At this point, she's not even trying to drink anymore. Her eyelids grow heavier with every blink.
Gently tucking your breast back into your robe, you rest Laura's head against your shoulder as you gently pat her back to burp her.
She tries to fuss about having her favorite source of nutrition taken away, but her exhaustion dominates.
It doesn't her long to fall asleep.
Before setting Laura in her crib without stirring her too much, you kiss her head and thank the universe for blessing you such a precious little angel to care for and love.
Walking back to your room, you search Alfie but you find he's no longer there. So, you walk down the hall and the stairs in search of your husband, knowing exactly where to find him.
The office door is open as the light shines, providing the only light in the hallway. As you lean in the doorway, you smile and tap against the wooden door.
"She go down alright or put up a fuss?" Alfie smiles looking up at you from his paperwork.
"No fuss tonight. I think she was really tired." You walk into his office with a smile as you make your way towards him. "Now it's time for the grown-ups to have some fun."
Alfie smirks as his chair spins, watching you struct over to his side. His eyes scan over your frame, drinking in the sight of you as you untie your robe, letting the fabric part and shyly reveal your naked body.
"Unless you'd like to stay down here and work?"
He chuckles as he stands and kisses you tenderly, holding your face in his hands as if you're made of the most delicate and precious glass with his rough fingertips gently propping your chin up to make you face him.
"Love, the only work I've got to do is fucking you until you can't walk."
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons x y/n#tom hardy#peaky blinders#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons fic#alfie solomons fluff
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Afraid of Everyone / Alfie Solomons
Hurt/comfort tw kinda violence against women/misogyny, mostly just soft protective Alfie. Based on that PTSD episode I had a few weeks ago.
You looked petrified. That was the only way he could describe you and the look you'd unintentionally shot in his direction. Even from across the crowded bar he could tell that you were trembling. That you'd done your best to be stubborn and brave in the face of the cunt who'd just gotten a little nasty with you at the bar because you'd rejected his advances, but that now the moment of conflict had passed you were frozen to the spot, scared that any sudden movement would see you spiral and burst into tears.
He hadn't ever really seen you like this before. You were always the suffer in silence, the indignant, stubborn and self defensive type. But he recognised the look in your eyes from the faces of other women he'd known. That teetering on the edge of tears look. The thin line of your lips pressed together, tight and unsmiling. The stubborn stare, the determination not to cry giving your upset and terror away. A real tragedy because you were doing so well to stand your ground and had you not inadvertently shot him that "help me" look just then you'd have had everyone in the room fooled.
But you couldn't fool him and he knew exactly what you needed in that moment when the dread was squeezing your chest too tightly. When your legs and hands were shaking. When you were struggling to breath steady. You needed him, your Alfie to come sweeping in. To steal you away from that overcrowded, shit hole he didn't even understand why you'd come to anyway. Pretty little sweetheart such as yourself, trying to stand her ground in the arse end of London Town.
He'd made his mind up about cutting in before he saw one of those lary fuckers raise his hand to you, before he heard the vile thing he said to you too. But when the half cut man staggered forward into you and spat his scorned vitriol in your face Alfie couldn't stop himself.
"Alright then..." he announced his presence with his hands on your shoulders, the warmth of his body behind yours sending a little quiver of relief through you. The sound of his voice giving you the strength to remain standing tall in the face of the cunt who stood leering at you across the table. "Alright then my little cherub you gonna introduce me to your new friends? They don't look very friendly mind you, nah... Specially not this cunt... Nah ziskeit, this cunt in particular looks like a right miserable... Well..." he flexed his tone, taking one hand from your shoulder to caress your cheek with the back of his knuckles.
"Well... He looks like a cunt don't he..."
The cool metal of his rings soothed the blush burning your skin and when his fingers lingered near your mouth you understood exactly what he was doing.
Saving you.
Promising to take you home and take care of you just as soon as he'd scared these poor bastards out of town.
"Now then," started Alfie, his eyes narrowing as he looked between the two men who had stood so proudly only moments before but who were already cowering away under Alfie's cruel glare. They'd certainly sobered up in the seconds it had taken him to cut between you. Pick them out. Get their measure. "Now then boys... Got a little favour to ask you haven't I eh my sweets.. got a teensy tiny little favour to ask you right?" he said stroking his hand down your arm, his tender little acts uncanny when compared to the tone in which he spoke.
His fingers found yours and entwined with them for a moment, locking and then unlocking, dancing lightly over your palm as he carried on drawing out his threats.
"Y'see boys," he said, "I'm gettin on a bit now me and well my hearin' just ain't what it used to be yeah... And I miss things sometimes right...things I'd quite like to hear... And just now yeah, when you were talking to my lovely, frankly 'too pure to share the same fuckin breathin space as you' girl yeah, well I was all the way over there right..." He said eyes going wide as he gestured with his hand to the other side of the room, walking his fingers through the air just before you so that neither you nor the men in question could take their eyes of his menacing hand. "See it's quite far ain't it that... Quite far away wouldn't you agree?"
You watched the two men nodding, saw how they tried to hide their shaking. Saw how they tried to inch away. They must have known they couldn't really run. Must have known they were trapped and at Alfies mercy.
So now they knew exactly how they'd made you feel. As Alfie opened his long coat and subtly wrapped it around your shoulder, letting you press yourself against his chest, letting you hide behind the thick black material and quiver into his side, you couldn't help but smile at that; the knowledge that those two men were feeling small. Just as small as they had made you feel only moments before.
"So yeah, this favour what I want you two boys to do for me, Alfie Solomons the king of Camden fuckin Town, therefore by extension the king of this here fuckin shithole of a public house... Yeah... What I want right... Is for you to repeat exactly what you just said to my girl yeah? Cause I was pretty far away right and I'm not entirely sure I heard you right yeah.. and before you say anything yeah..." He held his finger to his lips to shush them, his eyes wide and theatrical, that eccentricity leaving the two men with unsteady knees, "before you say another word right I want you to think very fuckin carefully about what you're gonna say alright... Cause the thing is yeah, what I reckon is that you'd better fuckin hope I didn't hear you right.. cause if I did yeah, if you did in fact say the terrible, frankly horrifying unrepeatable things I thought I heard you say just now yeah... I'm gonna take your fuckin billiards yeah, and I'm gonna make you swallow em one by fuckin one until your ugly cuntin face caves in..."
You watched their faces pale, watched the blue tinge of fear taint their skin as they froze, mouths opening and closing, panic setting in. But Alfie didn't do anything. Didn't carry out a single one of his threats because with you wrapped up within the confines of his coat he could feel your little body trembling against his and he knew he needed to take you home. Needed to get you somewhere quiet where it could be just the two of you. Where he could sit you in his lap and take care of you the way you needed him in that moment with your big sad eyes looking up at him all watery and scared.
"Nah," he sighed, his sudden softness uncanny when matched with the glare he'd fixed on those men. The way his hand lingered in the air between him and them, accusatory finger still extended towards them as he changed his mind. Lowered his voice and grew tender instead, focussing on you.
"Nah," he shook his head, pulled his coat tighter around you and squeezed you to his chest with one arm holding you to his warm body. The other still aimed at his new enemies. "Reckon I'll make em wait eh? Give em a little while to ruminate on all their sins before they see their comeuppance yeah? What do you think eh my little ziskeit? You reckon we should make em wait it out?" He asked looking down at you, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing a tear which had slipped from your lashes despite your best efforts not to cry.
"Yeah," you tried to say, though your voice never made it beyond your lips he still knew what you'd meant to say to him.
"Alright then," he grinned snapping his fingers towards the bar, pointing out the two cunts he couldn't wait to get his hands on in the morning, "Alright mate... You see these two miserable cunts there yeah... See em? Can't miss em really ugliest fucks for a country mile... I mean look at em, cunts should be livin in the dungeons at the opera Garnier, phantom of the operas a prettier sight than them two... It's like the fuckin elephant man gôr disentry right.. and shat himself... Fuckin disentry mate."
"Uh... Yes Mr Solomon's..." The poor lad behind the bar stood watching Alfie with a timid, uncertainty in his eyes, wringing his towel between his hands. Worrying, you imagined, about what was about to be asked of him.
"Right well y'see these poor bastards right... And I say "poor" but don't you go feeling sorry for them now alright, don't you feel sorry for em cause theyve fuckin earned their right to be "poor" haven't they..." Alfie let his voice wander up an octave as he spoke, that familiar meandering madness leaving the whole room in silence as they watched the scene unfold.
You hidden away in the folds of Alfie's long black coat, him with one arm wrapped around his girl, the other gesticulating between the two men who stood still trying to beg forgiveness. Their voices trembling and meek, going ignored by everyone else in favour of Alfie's theatrics. The poor lad behind the bar wringing his towel in his hands, doing his best to follow Alfie's request.
"Where was I? Oh right yeah... You ain't got a naughty step in here have you?"
"A naughty step?" The boy stuttered looking between Alfie and another bar man, begging his friend to help him.
"Yeah, y'know... somewhere they can sit nice and quiet yeah, have a good long think about what they've done?"
"Uh.." the lad hesitated, his frightened eyes meeting yours for a moment, fleeing almost the second he'd seen the whites of your eyes, not wanting to look at you when it was clear Alfie was doing his best to keep you protected and hidden away. He didn't want to find himself on the receiving end of that infamous, sociopathic temper.
"Here," Alfie clicked his fingers, pointed to a stool by the back door which was being used to prop it open, "what about this one yeah? Nice and low to the ground an all... Right where you belong.." he narrowed his eyes at the men quivering before him, flashed them a malicious grin, "fuckin sit down both of you yeah... Nah there's not much room so you'll have to share yeah... Both of you right, I want both of you to fuckin sit yourselves down there right, nice and quiet yeah... You fuckin sit there and you don't move a muscle till I come back for you yeah?" He asked waiting for a response, chuckling when the two men backed away nodding frantically as they did exactly as they were told.
You felt Alfie's chest vibrate with his low chuckle and tried to smile yourself. It was hard however because you hadn't yet managed to shake the panic that those men had sparked in you. You hadn't been able to calm down. All this time you'd been using every fibre of strength you had in you to hold it together until you were safe and sound and out of sight but you were beginning to run out of energy. Any minute now you were sure you were going to break.
"Alfie," you mouthed, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. To make him look down at you so that he'd see the paleness in your frightened face and understand. You needed him to take you home.
"Right," he nodded, his eyes locked with yours, trying to comfort you without words or affections so as not to give your vulnerability away. "Right Ollie my boy... where are ya treacle... Ollie my lad keep an eye on these two right... If they so much as blink yeah... If they so much as blink you have my explicit permission to perform whichever act of exquisite violence you so wish..."
And with that Alfie had swept you away, the crowd parting for the pair of you as you left.
The air outside was cold and a fine rain dusted over you both as you walked but you didn't feel the cold because Alfie kept you tucked up inside his coat with him, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close.
He knew that that was what you needed above everything else just then. Some kind of physical connection, something to hold onto. Someone to feel close to.
And there was no one who could make you feel as loved or as safe as him.
You stopped beneath a streetlight and he turned you around in his arms, squeezed you tight to his chest all wrapped up in his embrace, your face buried in his shirt, breathing in his soft rum and woodland scent. You nuzzled into him and he stroked his fingers through your hair, cradling your head to him as he bowed his toward you and kissed you tenderly. Let his lips linger in your hair as he listened to your shivered breaths.
"Alright littlen," he sighed softly, "s'alright my little ziskeit, you're with me now yeah, just you an me and your Alfs gonna take care of you now right, Papas gonna get you home right, gonna make you feel all better yeah?"
You smiled into his shirt, holding onto him a little tighter, arms wrapped around his waist, his still holding you snug and tight so that you knew he meant every word he'd just said.
For a minute he let you stay there, holding onto him, face buried in his shirt, your frame tucked away inside his big coat, the heavy wool going some way to making you feel safe too. He stroked your hair down your back and rocked you from side to side, his eyes narrowed on the quiet street as he surveyed the shadows. He wouldn't relax until he'd gotten you home but he didn't want to make you worry so he did his best to relax his body, did his best to put the anger he felt to one side. To box it away until the morning when he planned to return to that pub and exact his revenge.
For now however the rain was beginning to soak into his coat and your dress and your sad expression was beginning to pinch with cold.
"Alright my girl," he said stroking his thumb over your cheek, letting it rest on your lips as he spoke, "alright poppet time to go home..."
🐻💌🐻
Until you'd met Alfie you'd done a lot of fending for yourself. Faced a lot of things alone. You weren't necessarily built for it, hadn't particularly excelled at it, but for the most part you'd survived well enough on your own. You'd been doing it so long that even after the older man had made it his new life's passion to take you under his wing and dote on your every need, you never quite got used to having someone else worry about you or take care of you.
That's why you'd been so determined not to cry in front of anyone else. That's why when Alfie got you home and closed the front door behind you both, giving you strict instructions to go and get warm by the fire you ignored him. Took yourself straight up to the bedroom and began to undress.
To you the evening was a write off, a night of total humiliation and weakness that you would rather forget. You just wanted to climb into bed, curl up foetal position small and snug, and hopefully fall asleep before you started crying on Alfie.
He'd seen you cry before, naturally, but that wasn't the point. The less the better as far as you were concerned. You weren't a little girl, you weren't weak, you were stronger than most women and you were determined to show Alfie that. Because of everyone Alfie was the one who appeared to have the hardest time believing that you could look after yourself.
You didn't even notice his shadow in the doorway or the sound of his footsteps as he came to a halt in the frame, his gaze fixed on you. You were too busy trying to take your shoes off and slip out of your skirts to realise he was watching you. Wondering why you weren't doing as he'd told you to.
"Now then poppet..." he said softly, his gaze warm but stern as he watched and waited for you to turn around. When you looked up at him you felt a nervous flutter in your tummy, a shiver running through you as your glossy eyes shone with tears and blinked up at him. If he kept looking at you like that, with all the gentleness of a father, you were going to break down. You were already so close to falling apart and the tender way his attentions were fixed on you then was leaving you struggling.
But Alfie didn't want you to struggle. He didn't want you to hold back.
"Ziskeit," he said with a gentle tsk tsk, "come 'ere girl," he said, a gentle warning tone to his low voice as he held your gaze and waited for you to do as you were told.
You hesitated, wanting to shake your head and argue with him, wanting to tell him to leave you alone... But you didn't argue back with your Alfie and you knew that if you told him to leave you now he wouldn't listen. Still, you tried.
"I'm fine Alf don't look at me like that... I'm alright really I just wanna go to bed..."
But as you argued your voice weakened because he held your gaze, looked at you with knowing eyes and remained stable and stubborn, waiting for you in the doorway.
"Now don't start with all that ziskeit, cause me an you both know it ain't true and you ain't the kind of girl who tells lies... Come on now darlin, come give your old man a cuddle yeah? You wouldn't deprive your devoted old Alfie of that would you ziskeit?" He asked offering you a tender, teasing little smirk. One which despite its humour you knew you couldn't deny.
So when he opened his arms out for you to fall into you gave in, slipped from the edge of the bed into his warm embrace, nuzzling into his shoulder as he closed his arms tight around your frame.
"There we go, good girl, good girl..." He cooed softly, his husky voice gentle and tickling your ear as he pressed a kiss to your cheek bone and whispered to you. Gentle things which left tears prickling in your eyes. "There we go my little ziskeit, back where you belong yeah? Back where you belong in your Alfie's arms..." he said every tender sentence like a sigh, his words caressing you so that you finally felt safe enough to let go of all that fear, all that hurt which had been building and rotting away inside you.
The first few tears escaping terrified you. You didn't want to let them fall but you couldn't control them. You tried to snatch at your cheek with your hand to wipe them away, you tried to blink and stare at the ceiling until your eyes dried out and stung but it was already too late and besides, Alfie was determined that you were going to cry. You needed to cry, even if you didn't seem to realise that yet he knew it.
"S'alright my little ziskeit, go on poppet have a big old cry yeah, never mind tryin to be brave ziskeit, papa don't want you to be brave now alright..." He murmured stroking your cheek with his thumb and pressing a lingering kiss to your forhead.
He closed his eyes as he bowed his head to yours and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He could feel you shaking as you tried to control your sobbing, he could tell you were still trying to hold back.
"Don't do that my little love," he warned tenderly stroking your hair, cradling your head in the palm of his hair, "remember who knows best yeah ziskeit, me yeah, your Alfie... An I'm tellin you not to be brave yeah... World's had enough of brave now alright, needs a little gentleness yeah, a little feeling right... Now I've got you ain't I, it's just you an me, you an your Alfie... You don't have to be brave for me little ziskeit, you don't have to be brave for me..."
And as he spoke you felt it all finally catching up to you, all the adrenaline of the evening hitting you like a freight train. Leaving you shaking and distraught, barely able to hold yourself up, your legs trembling as you shook and collapsed against Alfie's chest, your knees buckling so that he had to catch you and scoop you up into a steadier hold.
"Oh my little ziskeit," he sighed, his heart aching for you and all the sorrow and fear he could hear in your sobbing. You'd broken down just like a little girl, lost control of your emotions completely and though he knew it was good for you to get it all out, he wished you didn't have to. Wished he could snap his fingers and make all that pain go away.
He was supposed to be your great protector and yet he hadn't been able to protect you from all this.
He let out a sigh and let his own knees give in sinking slowly to the floor with you in his arms, leaning against the wall and relaxing his legs out in front of him.
"There there my darlin, there there my little ziskeit, 'salright poppet I've got you yeah, you're safe with me little ziskeit, ain't gonna let a soul hurt you ever again..." he murmured to you kissing your temple and bundling you up into his arms so that he could cradle you in his lap.
He felt your body shaking with convulsive sorrow and rested one hand in your hair. He knew that all there was to do was wait it out, wait there with you stroking your hair whilst you cried yourself into exhaustion.
"Why are people always so fuckin cruel Alfie, why are men so fucking cruel..." You sobbed, your voice anguished and shrill and breaking his heart as he stroked his fingers across your cheek and shushed you gently.
"I know ziskeit," he said swallowing a lump in his throat, feeling that familiar cold determination grio him, his mind already beginning to turn to plans of revenge. The things he was going to do to make those evil bastards regret causing you this pain. "This time tomorrow though my darlin, this time tomorrow the world will be down two fuckin cruel men though yeah, promise you that my poppet..." he said pushing a lock of hair from your face, looking down at your tear stained cheeks with such tenderness as you tried to speak again, working yourself up into even more of a state.
"But... But even if you kill them there'll still be... M...more.." you sobbed trying to swat his hand away when he cupped your cheek in his palm and pushed his thumb to your lips gently.
"Hush now ziskeit, shh," he hummed pushing his thumb between your lips, ignoring your hand on his wrist which tried to argue back. He waited patiently until he felt your mouth close around his thumb, until he felt your tongue brush over him and you began to suck. "There we are poppet," he said with a soft smile, watching your eyes flutter shut, your lashes heavy and dewy with tears. "That's better ziskeit, settle down yeah, don't you worry about anymore of them cruel bastards now, you don't need to worry about any of them no more, I'm here now ziskeit and I ain't gonna let no one touch you no more, not a soul... Only hands you're ever gonna feel on you again yeah, the only fuckin hands ever gonna touch this angelic little face right, are these two hands right here... You're mine my little ziskeit, all mine yeah... An am gonna look after you right... Gonna start by puttin them two sorry cunts in the ground..."
You opened your eyes then, lying with your head in his lap, looking up at him with teary doe eyes. He looked down at you, let you drag your lips over and away from his thumb for long enough to ask one more question.
"Promise?"
Your voice was but a sweet little whisper. Your lips hovering by the tip of this thumb and he cupped your cheek in his palm and let you nuzzle into the heart of his hand.
"Promise."
Taglist:
@mollybegger-blog @zablife @impossibleheartflower @liliac-dreamer @inalovesrabbits-blog @jomarch-wannabe @itsghostgirlyo @marwwfairy
@toddlerbodybag
@everysage
@tommyshelbywhore
@kas3ylovesyou
@call-sign-shark
@cocoaflowers
#alfie solomons x reader#pealy blinders imagine#hurt/comfort#peaky blinders imagines#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons fluff
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Under the Willow Tree ||Alfie Solomons x OC (letters)
Summary: While he was roaming through paper works in his office, Alfie Solomons finds an unopened letter by chance. A letter written by his wife when he was fighting for his life at the hospital after his violent encounter with Thomas Shelby. Alfie still decides to write a reply... Unfortunately, he loses it before he can hand it to his Mrs. Solomons.
Notes: Letters exchange written for @raincoffeeandfandoms' event "The Peaky Receives Letters". The first letter was written by Flor (@raincoffeeandfandoms) herself, and Alfie's answer is mine. Hope I did a good job at portraying your sweet Alfie!
My dearest love, Alfie.
It's been two whole days since Thomas shot you. You're lying here in bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses who don't know if you'll recover or not. I haven't slept in 48 hours and I don't know if I will be able to again, not while you are there.
I write this letter in the hope that I will be able to tell you all this in person when you wake up. I have spoken to you as you lie there, but I can't tell if you can hear me or not. And the anguish inside me, it needs to come out. I've told myself that I have to be strong that I have to be fighting by your side, like we always did, but I don't always have the strength. And I'm so tired.
I decided, instead, to remember nice moments we spent together. There's a memory I have of us when we were 17, maybe you've already forgotten about it. You were already in charge of the bakery where you started working at 14 and you were starting to get interested in having your own "bakery". You always called the business you really wanted to get involved in that way, I guess it was easier to call it that, than calling it an illegal distillery. I always thought it was funny, even today.
We had gone on a picnic day in the middle of spring. We had brought apples and several of those little cakes you used to bake. We had planned everything and the day couldn't have been more perfect. I remember the sun was shining and I remember the tree we sat under. It was a willow tree whose branches touched the stream in front of which we were sitting.
I think the day was beautiful, at least is how I remember it. There were even ducks that we also fed. We hadn't been able to have a date like that in a long time because we were both working and really needed some time alone. Do you remember? We could barely see each other in the evenings. And sometimes not even that.
At first, it was beautiful. The food and you was all I wanted. But the things started to go wrong when we got distracted and the ants decided they wanted your pies, too. You were so angry with them! But we couldn't do nothing because, of course, they outnumbered us. So we moved from there, because it was a war we couldn't win. There was another tree, so we went under that one. But it happened that we never saw the beehive. The bees were not happy with us. The way we run! We abandoned the basket and the remaining food there. Probably the ducks ate the rest. Our date next to the stream was terrible. I remember you were mad, because you couldn't give me the perfect date you wanted. But to me, it was perfect. I laughed a lot after that.
We have shared so many things like this, Al, and I know we have to keep making memories because we can't end up like this. I can't let the one person I loved my whole life, my first kiss, my first love, to die because of a bullet from Thomas Shelby. I know you'll survive.
I'll leave the letter in a drawer, hoping I'll never have to write another one like this one.
I hear voices, what's happening? They're coming from the room where you are. It sounds like your voice. Is it possible? Or is the lack of sleep making me hallucinate? I'll go and see. My heart is beating so fast…
Yours, always.
Rosie.
Ahuvi sheli,
As I was looking for some tedious paperwork, I found your letter by chance, hidden under the mess on my desk. I know this terrible event is far behind us now and that you are peacefully sleeping on the couch, snuggling against Cyril by the fire. Still, I can’t resolve myself to let this heartbreaking letter without any answer. You’ve opened your heart by writing this, so let me ink mine on the back of this same paper.
When I was laying in a pit of darkness, trapped in the flesh prison of my own body, I felt Death’s presence creeping in the shadow, waiting for me to stop fighting so that It could take me away from you. Fear paralyzing me, fatigue eating up my remaining strength, I was convinced I would die here without being able to kiss your honey lips goodbye… My heart ached at this sole thought. But then, I heard your wonderful and enchanting voice talking to me in this dull hospital room, and suddenly the thick darkness was not there anymore. I felt the sweet caress of sun rays warming up my skin and I smelled the intoxicating fragrances of your floral perfume — the last one I gifted you for our anniversary. And there I was, near the mighty willow tree we would sit by when we were 17. Even though I was alone, I could still hear you talking to me from a faraway distance. Each word, each sigh, each sob… I held onto them, finding strength in your love until I could finally reopen my eyes.
You always compliment how tough I am — both physically and mentally. Whether I am carrying huge bags of flour or handling the Shelby and Sabini’s situations. I usually answer that the strongest of us was you. After all, you were the one who kept fighting after the awful years these Evert bastards had made you undergo. I would gladly tell you that I would piss on Lawrence’s grave but since it is a letter I guess I should remain polite. Yet, despite how strong you are, I am deeply sorry for worrying you and involuntarily making you suffer after that cunt Tommy Shelby shot my fucking face. Living with the fact I caused your tears to run down your sweet face will be the bane of my existence, but I promise to make amend for all the sorrow I caused you.
Rosie, my beloved flower, what is the willow tree without your elegant frame? What are the birds’ whistles without the symphony of your adorable laugh? What is Alfie Solomons without Rose? Fucking nothing. And since I’ve risen back from the dead to pull you in my arms, let me write down our latest wonderful moment that happened yesterday: You were in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the tip of your pen trapped between your gorgeous lips. The more you flipped the pages, the more you were getting angry because you could not decipher my admittedly awful handwriting. I tried to make you laugh but you were not in the mood, and at some point, you thought I was so annoying that you threw a bit of flour at me without being aware of the consequences… We looked at each other silently for a few seconds, and then the same thought crossed our minds. We rushed to the nearest bag of flour and proceeded to turn our kitchen into a battlefield of white powder. You laughed! Oh, you laughed so much that diamond tears ran down your pinkish cheeks.
You laughed, my little Rose, and I fell in love with you again for the hundredth time.
Don’t fear the voices you might hear, they are just the murmurs of my soul whispering to yours how much I love you. Also, Fuck Tommy and his little bitchass bullets — this prick can’t even aim— for nothing will take me away from you.
Forever yours, mind, body, and soul,
Alfie.
Tag list:
@runnning-outof-time
@shelbydelrey
@there-goes-thefighter
@cljordan-imperium
@dandelionprints
@zablife
@raincoffeeandfandoms
@look-at-the-soul
#alfie solomons#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#alfie solomons x oc#Rose solomons#the peaky receives a letter#peaky blinders x oc#Alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons fluff#alfie solomons fanfic
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I Want You To Stay | Alfie Solomons x nb!reader
anonymous asked: Alfie Solomons:
Hello! You doing good? I hope so 🖤.
May I please humbly request of you something using the following prompts for Alfie Solomons X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader:
"What's got you in such a bad mood?"+"You're a fucking asshole"+"Stay with me"
(For this one, if it's possible and not too much trouble, could the prompts be used for the same reader from Feisty? Maybe it leads them to confessing feelings?? But if not, that is more than okay! I'll love whatever you're able to come up with 🖤🖤🖤).
Thank you so very much 🖤🖤! And I'm so sorry for the absolute spamming of your inbox/notifications 🤣.
🐍anon
summary: you had to eventually come to terms with how you felt for Alfie, you just don't want him to know about them.
tws: swearing, mild threats
PART ONE: FEISTY
PART TWO: ACCEPTANCE
support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy
"Stay with me."
The three simple words that had kept Alfie tethered to you for months. Refusing to leave you, constantly annoying you every second of every day; but when he wasn't around, you had to admit - you missed his presence. Massively. He was a thorn in your side, but when he wasn't around, you hated it.
You felt like something had been taken away from you. But you would never tell him that, you couldn't; he was already insufferable, he would be a thousand times worse if you told him that you actually liked to have him around.
That you actually enjoyed the mornings you spent together; you would feed Cyril, his dog, while he fetched the papers. You would always leave the puzzles for him to do. He would make tea while you got breakfast together; you would get washed and dressed for the day while he did the washing up.
He would get washed and dressed while you took Cyril for a quick walk. You fit together nicely, if the truth was told.
But you could never tell Alfie that you actually liked having him around; he would be so insufferable about it, and you couldn't have that. For months, he had been trying to convince you to admit that you even liked him a little bit, and would be an absolute dickhead when you grumbled and failed to come up with anything clever to bite back with.
You liked your mornings with Alfie.
But you preferred the evenings. Alfie always cooked while you took the dog out, and he was a fucking good cook; you would wash up while he got the puddings ready. After eating, you would spend hours sat at the dinner table talking about everything and nothing all at once until you were both too tired; he stopped sleeping on your sofa about a week into his refusal to leave.
You would snuggle into his side - always denying it the morning after - and he would hold you close while you slept. Sometimes you could muster up enough energy to talk to him while lying in bed, usually until you eventually dropped off; sometimes words didn't need to be said, and Alfie would feel you fall asleep almost instantly while he smiled and, for a moment, watched you sleep.
He did the same in the morning. He was always awake before you. It didn't matter if you had gotten to sleep earlier, he would still wake up before you and spend the first few minutes of the day just looking at you, admiring you.
It had been months, and the men from Birmingham hadn't made an appearance since. But Alfie wouldn't leave, and although you knew he would one day, you wished he wouldn't. You had gotten too used to him being your… companion, of sorts. You had gotten too content with the usual mundane routines that worked around his job and yours.
If he had nothing to do at his own work, he would come down to the shop and linger like maggots to a corpse. Sometimes he would bring flowers. You always threw them out. It always made him laugh.
Today wasn't any different. The early, early hours of the morning had trickled in, and you had gotten up with a groan and a stretch; the first time ever that you had gotten up before Alfie, you propped yourself up on your elbow and sighed. Your gaze landed on his face. He looked so peaceful.
His eyes closed and his mouth slightly agape, snoring quietly. His beard was starting to go grey, as was the hair at the sides of his head. He looked so pretty. You couldn't resist it, watching him for a moment, daring to lay a hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall.
Alfie groaned, daring to open one eye. He grinned. "You were watchin' me sleep."
"Fuck off, I was not," you huffed. "I was just making sure that you were still breathing… unfortunately you are."
He laughed softly, squirming to sit upright as he stretched and yawned. "Why are you up so early?"
"You ask like I know the question," you rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you folded your arms across your chest and sat against the headboard.
"Just fuckin' talk to me," he grumbled. "Why do you have to be such a feisty little shit all the time?"
"Oh, go fuck yourself!" You scoffed. "You're a fucking asshole, Solomons."
Alfie couldn't stop himself from smiling as he looked at you. "What's got you in such a bad mood? Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?"
You smacked his shoulder. "Go shit in your hands and clap, bellend."
He laughed, the sound making your heart pound for a moment. "C'mon. Admit that you like me, treacle."
"There'd be no fucking point," you growled. "It'd only stroke your fucking ego."
"It wouldn't," he said softly, gently cupping your jaw and forcing you to look into his eyes. "I promise you, it wouldn't… ain't broken any of my promises yet, have I?"
"I fucking hate you," you muttered, your gaze going to his lips. You swallowed thickly, unable to stop yourself, your body acting quicker than your mind as you closed the distance.
He kissed back immediately, smiling into it. It was gentle and slow, and it wasn't long until he brought you onto his lap, his hands on your waist to keep you close even when you pulled away.
"You don't hate me that much," Alfie joked. "Do you, sunshine?"
Your hands went to his chest as you sighed. "Maybe not… maybe… fuck's sake, I hate you but I do like you."
"There we go," he beamed, daring to steal another quick kiss. "Was that so hard?"
"You keep teasing me, and I will make sure that I fill out all the puzzles in the newspapers," you threatened.
Alfie nodded, trying not to laugh loudly. "You made your point, no need to get feisty… you gonna give us another kiss?"
"You gonna fucking ask nicely for once?"
"Please," he said softly. "Give us another kiss, please."
#mlem writes#alfie solomons x y/n#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons x reader#alfie x reader#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons fluff#alfie solomons one shot#alfie solomons#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fic#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#bbc peaky blinders#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#tom hardy x reader#tom hardy imagine#tom hardy fanfic#tom hardy
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Nurse / Alfie Solomons x reader
🌾Warnings: Violence, cursing
🌾Summary: Alfie makes a deal. But what he doesn’t anticipate is the fact that the people he made the deal with, liked to show what they could do before they were betrayed, and not just tell.
Requested by @concertxjunkie
I hope you like it! 🧡 I’m still new to writing Alfie
You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move, all you could feel was terrifying pain. Your nose hurt, your jaw hurt, your whole body just hurt.
Sobs rack through you as you lie in the floor of your home, the place that was supposed to be your sanctuary, your safe place. But no, safe was the last thing you felt when the strange men had barged in and started talking about Alfie’s debts.
You did not know your husband had any debts, you did not know the men who attacked you but by the time they had you in their grasp, you knew that the issue was not Alfie having debt.
Their act of brutality was to show what could happen if Alfie ever did end up being in the losing side.
”Gotta get up, gotta get up”, you sob to yourself trying to get yourself in an upward position. But the pain and the nausea were too much.
You wail out of pain and frustration as you try to slowly start dragging yourself over to the phone.
You needed Alfie, you needed his arms around you and him telling you that ”Even with the cunts around, it’ll all be looking up again when it’s you and me”
Finally managing to drag yourself up onto a chair, you take a moment to try and breathe in the new position. With a shaking hand you take the receiver in your hand and try to get a hold of your husband.
When he answers from the bakery you can’t help the snotty sobs that leave you as breathing gets even more difficult.
”Hey-hey, love? Love, is it you?”
”Alf, I can’t br-breathe, I c-can’t move ”, Alfie can barely make sense of what you are saying but he can hear that something is wrong, so so wrong.
”Love, do not move, alright? If you can’t don’t fucking move. I’m coming home, I’m coming home right now”
After you hear the words you let the receiver drop and rest your head against the desk in front of you. You couldn’t sleep, you shouldn’t. You sniffle with a whimper and try to stay awake till Alfie comes.
***
When Alfie arrives to your home, his heart stops. He had seen horror and he could still stomach his bread but what he was seeing was enough to set his heart beating faster than the hooves of a racehorse.
Your whole house, the home you had built to be ready for you two to have a family, was in shambles. Things broken and turned over, no corner was left untouched.
But that did not frighten him, what frightened him was the state of your house while knowing you are somewhere in there, scared and hurt.
"Love! Where the fuck are ya? Love, I’m home”, he calls and starts running around the house. When he hears ragged sobs coming from his study, his hat flies of his head as he takes off to run to you.
”Oh my little bird”, he mutters when he sees you sitting by his desk. Folded into yourself, face swollen turning black and blue. ”My little bird, what the fuck did they do to you?”, he whispers kneeling in front of you cupping your face with no pressure.
”I-I don’t know who they were, the-they just ca-came in”, you whisper leaning closer to him for comfort. You wanted him to hug you, hold you but it would hurt too bad. ”I-is it bad?”, you suddenly ask, aware of how your face must look. Shame flooding you along with the pain.
”Don’t see nothing but the strongest lady in whole London”, he assures, tears rising to his own eyes. ”We need to get ya in the hospital”, he whispers finally. ”Come on” As gently as possible he picks you up in his arms.
”It hurts so bad Alf, I can’t, you can’t carry me, it hurts”, your cries and pleas break his heart as he ignores them. He was hurting you but he needed to get you to the hospital so you could heal, but it would not take away the knives that slashed his heart with every one of your cries.
***3 weeks later***
You had stayed in the hospital for four nights. Four long nights. But now you were being nursed back to health in a whole other hospital.
Hospital who only hired one nurse. A very pushy nurse Alfie Solomons.
”Say A now love”, Alfie grins as he holds out a spoonful of soup before shoving a piece of bread in your mouth to follow it. You laugh with your mouth full as you try to chew the huge bite of bread.
”You don’t have any manners do you mate? Laughing and spitting the food all over. Food made with yer husband’s dainty loving hands”, he says mock seriously, enjoying the fact that you can finally laugh without being in so much pain.
You swallow before you open your mouth and show it’s empty. ”Ahhh!”, you say loudly before lifting your arms and pursing your lips: ”Now the love and care sustenance please”, you request before continuing, ”If my loving husbands dainty hands could so kindly offer some”
”That’s more like it”, He winks before setting the tray down and kissing you before giving you one of his warm embraces. If you would have the choice in death, to choose where to spend your whole after life, it would be in your bear of a husband’s arms.
He had nursed you back to health. Seen your worst moments and been there for you without complaints. He had fed you, bathed you, dressed you, even carried you to the water closet. His arms were what safety meant to you.
Alfie could not fathom how good it felt to hold you like this again. The first weeks of listening to your heartbreaking whimpers whenever he even touched you had left a mark on him. You were his world, and someone had tried to take you away.
But that someone no longer existed, a nice little favour from the Peaky blinders.
#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons#peaky blinders#thomas shelby#Alfie solomons fluff
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Alfie Solomons SMUT Oneshot
Alfie Solomons x (Female)OC (I-perspective) / kinda y/n
Okay this is super random and I haven't written in a long time but I was so horny for Alfie that I had to write this down. Here you go :)
Warnings: SMUT, SMUT and SMUT, pet names, consensual relationship, unprotected sex, oral sex (both receiving) (please let me know if there are any other triggers I should put in the warnings, thanks)
Also English is not my mother language!
Words: 2364
I recommend listening to one of these audios but it's not obligatory
x
x
It was raining like hell. I stood in front of Alfie’s secret apartment, the one that is close to the bakery. I knocked four times. So, he knew it was either me or one of his men. Heavy footsteps came closer and when he stopped, I could hear the floor creaking. He slowly opened the door and when he saw that it’s me, he looked like he was relieved.
“Fuckin’ hell what are you angel doing here at this time, looking all soggy.”
I didn’t know why but I suddenly got nervous, so I looked down to the ground and mumbled “I missed ya’.” He didn’t even let me finish my sentence and had me already pulled into his entrance so he could close the door. He shoved my wet rain coat off of my shoulders and put it over the chair that was seated next to the door.
“’gonna get a bloody cold when you walk around like a wet dog, pet.” Alfie mumbled, mostly to himself and walked into his kitchen.
“I will make you a cup of tea, some delight to warm you up, right.” he said and already put the kettle on the stove.
“I didn’t come for tea, Alfie.” I sighed and he turned his head at me.
“Right, so you just came for the honey huh?” he mocked me and put his hands on my waist, then he lifted me up and I sat on the woody counter of his kitchen. I looked down on him while he smirked up into my face. I chuckled. My right hand caressed his cheek and I started to kiss him. His hands on my waist gripped my flesh more firmly. Alfie let out a grown, his way of telling me that he enjoys this right now.
“Ya’ know I wished I could have you on my side every second of the day but it’s ain’t safe for you coming here. I don’t even want to know what might have happened to you.” he said while looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.
I sighed once again and stroked the curls of his hair with both of my hands. “Fuck that, Alfie. I’m here now. Let’s not waste any time.” I breathed into this ear and started to kiss his throat right under his ear as soft as I could. I could feel his breath on my neck as well and I knew he probably had his eyes closed by now, surrendering to my delicate touch, coaxing him to forget about all these worries he had stacked up in his mind.
His hands moved over my back and up my shoulders while he kissed me again, this time with more intensity. He put his hands on both of my thighs and softly kneaded my flesh, I moaned into his mouth and while my left hand stayed on his waist, my right hand went to his crotch. Starting to stroke him through his pants, Alfie moaned and let go of the kiss.
“Fuck, you really just came for one thing didn’t ya angel?” he asked with a thick voice.
“Yes, that is true, Alfie. I came only for you.” I replied smiling into his face.
“Not quite yet.” he said and touched my pussy through my underwear as well. I let out a huff and closed my eyes as I enjoyed his fingers drawing slow but firm circles on my clothed clit. Suddenly my whole body turned into jelly, his touch, his scent, the way he was breathing, it all took me into a deep, lovely, delicious void that I did not want to escape. Alfie trailed his mouth along my cheek and kissed me gently there, his beard tickled on my skin while his movements quickened and got my heart beating faster.
“Oh, Alfie, never fucking stop, please.” I whined while my face fell into his shoulder. I was so turned on, I wanted to make him feel as good as I possibly could make him feel so my hand went into his trousers and grabbed his naked cock. I wanted to tease him, I wanted to make him beg for me like he made me beg for him. My hand gripped his shaft but barely made any movements. His breath quickened and Alfie chuckled. He knew exactly what I was trying to do.
We both loved these little silly games between us when we wanted to tease each other but also pleasure the other one like there is no tomorrow. He let go of my pussy and I whined at the loss of his touch. Both his hands held my face, and he kissed me.
“You’ve got no fucking idea what you’re doing to me, pet.” he whispered, his lips gently touching mine. “I could take you right here and now, but I should bed my princess a little more comfortable.” saying that, Alfie lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder. I laughed as he did so and held onto his back, so I did not fall down. He carried me into his minimalistic bedroom that only contained a bed and a night table with burning candles on it.
He put me down on to the bed and made me sit on the edge. His hand held the left side of my face and made me look up at him. The expression on his face was serious, but his eyes revealed more. I smiled up at him and leaned into his hand on my cheek. Alfie just stared down at me in silence.
“Are you gonna obey?” he asked in his intimidating voice while he narrowed his eyes. I, surprised by his sudden change of dominance blinked a few times, after gulping down my spit I nodded at him.
“Well, go on then.” he said and started to shove down his pants. “Take my cock in your mouth like the good girl you are.”
He directed my head towards his dick but then let go of it. I took his shaft into my hand, which already made him moan, and started to wrap my lips around his tip. Alfie let out a long breath. “Right.” he said and started to moan louder as I let my mouth slip down a little more. I let my head bop up and down, my hand starting to touch his balls, teasingly kneading them.
“Yes.” he breathily said, and his hand started to caress the back of my head.
He was hard and thick in my mouth, twitching once in a while. Without any warning I slid down the whole of his length in one movement and had him moaning my name in pleasure and agony. As quick as I slid down, I let go of his cock and wrapped my hand around it to slowly pump it. Then I shoved myself off of the bed and kneeled in front of him. This way I could keep pumping him while my tongue deliciously licked over his balls.
“God, I’m…” he panted, having trouble to form a full sentence, ��…not gonna last long like this, sweetheart.”
I chuckled, proud of my actions that made him feel so good. Only now I realized how wet I was and how hungry I was to get satisfied myself. Letting go of his balls and cock, I looked up at him for a short second and my eyes turned into hearts looking at his aching, pleasure-drunk face. Quickly I took his cock into my mouth once again and bopped my heart up and down as fast as I could. After moaning a little more, Alfie took my face and removed his cock from my mouth. “Fucking hell, you need to go slow on me, darling, I need to save this for later.“ He opened his hand waiting for me to let him grab mine so he could help me standing up. His cock was still hard and angry, so Alfie’s movements weren’t so patient anymore. He unbuttoned the white blouse I was wearing within seconds and threw it on the ground. He continued undressing me, while leaving kisses on my jaw, my neck, my chest. And when he shoved down my skirt, he kneeled in front of me, taking my feet out of my shoes, his hand grabbed my calf and slid up my whole leg. His hands grabbed both sides of my hips and he softly pushed me down to sit on the bed. He looked right at my still clothed pussy as I still had my tights on. Kissing the skin on my hipbones, he got up and his demeanour changed again, looking down at me, his dominance came back to his mind.
I put my hands on my tights and wanted to get out of them, but his hands quickly grabbed for my wrists and stopped me. “No, no, dollface. Not yet.” He straightened his body and started pumping his cock. “Touch.” he commanded, and I obeyed quickly, letting my hand slide down the inside of my tights to my pussy. I was so god damn wet, my fingers almost drowned in pleasure. I circled my clit and let the tips of my fingers slide up and down my entrance once in a while. When I started to moan to my touch, I sensed that it did not help Alfie at all to last any longer.
“Fuck, come here.” he whimpered and shoved me up his bed with one move. Gripping my tights and my underwear, he ripped them off of my legs, letting them fall down behind him. He laid upon me without putting any weight on me and his hands grabbed for my tits where he hungrily kneaded them. His hard cock pressed against my pussy, I moaned into his mouth while he kissed me and kept massaging my tits.
“Alfie, fuck me please.” I whined, looking into his eyes, pleading like a puppy. Putting wet, sloppy kisses on my jaw, down my neck, he moved his mouth to my breasts and took one of my nipples into his mouth with force and determination. Moans uncontrollably escaped my mouth, my legs locking his body in. He flicked his tongue over my nipple and sucked on it, just the way he knew I loved it. Frantic breaths and growls coming out of him, he was full of desire. After sucking on my other nipple as well, he lost no time going down further and putting his pretty wet lips on my clit. “Oh my god, ALFIE.” I moaned at him sucking at my bundle of nerves with perfect intensity.
I was so close to cum. I could have cum right here and there but I tried to last as long as I could. My hand tapped on his shoulder. My upper body rising up and looking at him.
“Alfie, please, I beg you, put your dick inside me.”
He smiled and followed my order within seconds. My legs were wide open for him to enter and while his hands hold my waist, he shoved himself up my pussy with such an ease. Both of us moaning into the other one’s mouth. Alfie’s face turning into a pleasured, whining mess.
“You feel so perfect, angel.” he moaned, his moves quickened pretty fast. Noises of skin slapping against skin filled the room. “So” “fucking” “good” Alfie panted in between harsh thrusts. My legs started to feel loose, my lower body just perfectly crashing together with his. I was in heaven as I felt my orgasm coming closer and closer.
“I’m gonna cum.” I whimpered so quiet that he could barely hear it.
“Tell me I’m the only man who can make you feel this good.” he panted while his thrusts got faster.
“You’re the only man who can make feel good.” I whined, I would say anything he would want to hear right now, I was all his.
His movements got slower, and he heavily breathed into my face. “Tell me I am the only man who can make you cum.” “You’re the only man who can make me cum.” I moaned, saying the complete truth.
“Please, Alfie, let me cum.” I whined and he chuckled. Even though he must have been close too, he still gained a little self-control back.
“Beg me to let you cum.” he ordered, and his movements almost stopped. I cried out and my hands caressed the back of his head.
“Don’t play any games with me now, Mr. Solomons.” I moaned while I pushed myself more into him to get more friction and penetration.
“Come on, sweetheart, you can do it.” He teased and I sighed at him.
“Please, Alfie, please! I beg you, make me cum. Please.” he was quick to release me from the agony of his tease and started thrusting into me again. Waves of an orgasm beautifully crashed in, and it was only a matter of seconds before I would cum.
“Good girl.” Alfie panted and I knew he was about to cum as well. His hand wandered to my clit and circled it in a fast, pleasuring pace. That was it. I felt my orgasm finally coming in and I let out a loud moan. Alfie growled into my neck and bit into my shoulder as he came right after me, releasing all of his warm cum inside me. He kept moaning and growling into my skin, both of us exhausted and in a blissful state.
His body was limp on mine, his mouth kissing all over my face and my neck. We laughed into each other’s faces and after a moment of silence and just looking at each other, he finally decided to get out of me. His hands caressed my skin, everywhere. He got up and helped me getting up as well. Then he took me into his arms, and I sighed into his chest. His hands went over my back, and it sent shivers down my spine. My legs still felt like butter but luckily, Alfie held me up.
“You made me really feel so so good, you can come anytime you want, even when it’s bloody 2 AM in the morning, angel.”
Part 2
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x oc#alfie solomons smut#alfie solomons oneshot#alfie solomons fluff#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine
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Angel in the Snow
Alfie Solomons x Shelby!Reader
Written for @raincoffeeandfandoms' 🎄Christmas Event 🎄
Christmas prompt: 8. Snowball fight
Warnings: it's Alfie so cursing (but only a little), fluffity fluff?, mutual pining!, tension!!!, implied reader description by relation, almost kiss, a moment of utter embarrassment, allusion to… well doing something about that tension 🤭
~ 1,3K words
Alfie was busy grumbling about the cold and cursing Tommy Shelby when a snowball hit him on the back of his head, making his hat topple down into the snow. He froze in place, hearing a gasp and a muffled giggle before his attention shifted to you completely.
“Alfie!” You squealed excitedly, practically throwing yourself in his arms, then giggling as he squeezed your body closer to his, lifting you up a little to turn in circles until you were dizzy.
“Oh, my favourite heathen.” His cheeky smile did not save him from the swat on his chest.
Before you could reply though, another round of snowballs hit you both, forcing you to take cover behind a nearby tree.
“I’m afraid you entered a war zone, Captain.” His everpresent frown eases at that but there’s a new kind of glint in his eyes. You shiver and it has nothing to do with the cold.
It takes a few moments to find the strength to look away from those hauntingly beautiful eyes of his but he won’t have it, he draws your attention back like he cannot be without it.
“What did you do to deserve to be left on your own with so many little devils, huh?” He is positively amused at your situation and he even laughs out loud at your pout but he doesn’t press on the subject when you just shrug and look away again with the excuse of getting his hat for him.
To your surprise, he indulges in the play a little, then he gathers about half the kids and launches an attack on you while you scream. First, it’s “Traitors,” then it’s threats of no dessert and in the end, you shout out your surrender from where you have fallen into a big pile of snow.
When Alfie gets closer he reaches out to help you up but the smug look on his face begs for some punishment, so you take his hand and pull him down, not taking into consideration that he would fall right onto you.
Your nieces and nephews laugh around you before getting busy with their snowball fight again.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he says quietly, without the usual edge, while he takes in the sight of you. Splayed out under him, surrounded by all that white as you can’t help but laugh.
When you notice his soft expression, you can’t help but ask, “What?”
He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear as he gently smiles down at you, murmuring the words, “I have fallen for an angel.”
Your gaze flickers between his and his lips, prompting his smile to widen even as you still can’t find it in you to gather some words as a proper answer to that.
Alfie cradles your head and slowly leans in, giving you time to stop him if you wish. Your lips almost touch when a snowball hits both of you, landing by your necks, making him lean back to get it out of the collar of his coat as you try to do the same.
When he turns back to you the moment is gone. Realising where you are and that you are surrounded by children you decide it is not the best place to do whatever you were about to do. Besides, it was freezing.
So, while he is still distracted you sneak your arms and legs in position and roll the two of you so he would be lying on the cold ground instead. And that’s not enough. Before you quickly stand up and make some distance so he couldn’t catch you, gathering some snow in the hand you are not balancing on, you throw it right at him.
“Oh, you little witch. Come here!” He shouts while you laugh and hide behind a tree.
“I don’t think so, you wicked thug.”
Smirking at that, Alfie aims a snowball in your direction and you are about to gloat that he missed when a shriek escapes you as all the snow is dumped on you from a branch he hit just a moment before. It’s his turn to laugh, and the sound warms you enough from within to get a hold of yourself and start attacking him in revenge. Another few minutes of play goes by until you hear Polly call everyone in. Dinner is ready to be served.
You grab Alfie’s hand and pull him with you. “Come, you must be starving.”
“I don’t think…” It was clearly a big family gathering and despite your warm smile and eager invitation, he would surely feel like he’s intruding.
“I insist.”
He didn’t had the heart to tell you he probably couldn’t eat anything from the fancy dinner anyway, so as helpless as he was to resist you, he agreed, telling you he has something he must give to your brother but he’ll find you afterwards.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
You made him call in his driver too, who decided to visit the kitchen and seemingly spent most of his time there during their stay.
Tommy was happy to get the jewellery he ordered at the last minute and not at all surprised by your demand of having Alfie stay for dinner, although he warned the both of you that he did not want any trouble tonight.
Tommy is sat at the head of the table, and Alfie is guided to the last remaining seat, opposite to him, and between you and Aunt Polly herself.
The food is served, and after an awkward prayer later from Arthur everyone starts to dig in.
Alfie looks around the plates and as an extremely deep frown is grazing his forehead, he turns to you with a question written over his face. Before you could say anything Arthur is reaching around for some of the kosher dishes that you had prepared for your guest, who you would just hoped to make stay when Tommy mentioned he was coming. You swat at your brother’s hand and exchange a plate with another, putting the one meant for Alfie out of his reach and giving him the other.
With half the table looking at you, a series of glances were exchanged. You couldn’t look at Alfie as you felt your cheeks burn under his gaze but your eyes met with Polly’s, who was giving you a knowing smirk from the other side of the table.Then she turned to Tommy with a look that said ‘I told you so’ and your brother could do nothing clench his jaw and shoot a warning look at his friend when the man in question could finally tear his gaze from you.
While that starring contest was going on you looked up, noticing it at last but couldn’t help to turn away as John was trying to muffle his laughter behind his hand and a lame imitation of coughing. That is until you kicked him under the desk.
Tommy took mercy on you and decided to shift the attention by giving a little toast, ending your few seconds of misery that actually felt like hours.
The rest of the dinner went by smoothly but it was pretty late by the end and this time it was Tommy who insisted Alfie should stay. Polly was quick to cut in before anyone could object, offering to show the driver to a guest room, saying you’ll escort Alfie to his. Eyes wide, you watch as she marches out of the room before you get yourself together and do as she said.
Polly is quick to return, ad even Ada and Esme are back from getting the children to bed, but Tommy waits for you for long minutes, in vain, as the grown-ups enjoy their late-night drinks. It takes John to stop him and Arthur from barging into your room, as he asks if they really want to walk in on you right now. John and Polly snicker through the rest of the night, making bets about how the morning will go for you and ‘lover boy’.
#🎁#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons fluff#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons fic#🧸#✨#raincoffeeandfandoms' christmas event#my stuff#my fics
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Alfie werewolf AU moodboard pt. 4:
He longs to bathe you. To bathe with you. Wash the city off your skin replacing it with his savory musk. For you to walk through your daily life scented with him. Claimed. He'd smirk knowingly watching you from the dark corners as others attempt to entice you. To fight the urge to destroy them and devour you where they'd know whose you are.
For now, you write. You both have your letters. And some nights one another. He wants you on the stairs amongst the moonlight pouring through the window panes illuminating the fading red lines he's delicately placed upon your creamy skin. He retraces them with his fangs. Nipping here and there.
He knows he's never felt heat like you before. He's never felt the tight fit around his cock. He's never felt his heartbeat pounding into another's as he does when he's riding you higher and higher. When you cum he swears he's going to change. He fights the urge to clamp down onto your neck as you clamp around his cock. He doesn't understand how you can be so wet. He never wants to clean up the mess that gushes from you whenever he takes you from behind. If he could tattoo his finger prints onto your hips he'd die a happy man. He dreams of the sounds your entire body makes when he's on you, when his fingers begin playing you, when he is so deep inside you he doesn't know where he ends and you begin.
He longs to bathe you. He longs to mark you with his bite. But he senses you're not quite there yet. Your apprehension. You're still learning each other.
He carries your sleeping form along the darkened paths back to your bed. He longs for it to be his own. But not yet. Your usual sated state never ceases to astound him. This time you couldn't stay awake. Losing the fight to stare at his perfect features. Ones he fails to recognize but you will never quit acknowledging. This time you're sleep. He places you on your bed. God, you smell like him. He longs to bathe with you. To experience the vulnerability of cleansing one another. Yet as he takes you in he wishes you'd never bathe again. You smell perfect mixed with him. His. Mine, he breathes. Eyes aglow and fangs appear momentarily.
One day he will bathe you after the stairs, the wooded path to his house, his bed, the kitchen. Any surface he can mark with your combined fragrance.
One day he'll know you long to bathe him. To explore every inch of rough skin over and over until it is forever mapped in your head. You long to view him in his other form. To have earned that trust.
One day you'll bathe each other. One day he'll only have to carry you down the hall.
#tom hardy#facepuller#alfie solomons#peaky blinders#alfie solomons fanfiction#Alfie Solomons fanfic#alfie#alfie solomons smut#alfie solomons drabble#alfie solomons fluff#tom hardy fanfic#tom hardy fanfiction#Alfie Solomons moodboard
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Rainy Days
Alfie Solomons x Reader
Plot: It was a rainy day in Camden, (Y/N) just wanted to spend it with Alfie in bed…
Word Count: 726
Warning: Fluffy Alfie, swearing, suggestive sex talk,
Peaky Blinder Masterlist
Please don't repost my work on other sites pls and thanks
The sound of rain pounded against the window of the shared bedroom of Alfie and (Y/N). It was a much-needed day off for the two, between Alfie's work and (Y/N) work at one of the local dress shops, today was welcomed. She was snuggled under the warm blanket, nuzzled against his warm chest. His arms wrapped around her like she was his stuffed teddy, not wanting to lose her in the tosing and turning of the night.
With the sound of the raindrops hitting the glass, it loling her out of her slumber. She squints at her unfocused surroundings, but when the thunder rolled, she got a better understanding of what woke her up. (Y/N) sighed before snuggling into Alfie’s chest. He sturred a little at his fiance’s movements. He tightened his grip and moved so his chin was on her head.
“Good morning love,” she murmurs, sleep still heavily laced in her voice. Alfie grumbled, not wanting to greet the day yet. (Y/N)’s soft laugh fills the room, making Alfie pry his eyes open. She looks up to see his sleepy expression.
“Hi,” she says with a smile. Alfie kisses her forehead, his whiskers scratches against her soft skin. The sound of thunder rumbled across the sky, catching the gangster’s attention. He glances to the window, seeing the heavy raindrops hitting against the glass.
“Since today has turned into a day off, what are your plans for the day?” Alfie asks, his hands still on her hips.
“Well since we both aren’t working, and the rain has deterred any outdoor activities. I was thinking a lazy day in bed is in order,” she says, moving to staddle his thighs.
“Oh, do you know? And what do you suggest that we do in bed?” he asks suggestively, moving his hands up. When he grazes a spot against her ribs, a small shriek left her lips. The two just stared at each other, processing what just happened.
“Alfie don’t you da-,” she tried to say but was cut off by Alfie staring his tickling assault on her. His hands run across her ribs as she tries to get away. (Y/N) quickly got out of his grasp and went and hid in the bathroom.
“Come back to bed love,” Alfie calls out. (Y/N) peaks out behind the bathroom door, not trusting his words.
“It’s safe. I’ve called a truce. There won’t be anymore tickling love,” he says, costing her out from behind the wooden door. As she inched closer back to the bed, Alfie reached out and pulled her onto the bed. Giggle fill the room again as he hovers over her. He lowers himself, just above her jugular vein. His beard grazed her skin.
“ You told me no more,” she says, gently placing a hand against his chest.
“I did, but I didn’t say anything about kissing though,” he leans down and places a kiss against her neck. She hums at the attention, running her hand through his hair. Alfie moves down, giving attention to her chest.
“I hope that you ever feel forced to stay with me,” Alfie mutters against her skin.
“Alfie? Where is this coming from?” she questions, shocked at his confession. He moved from the valley of her breasts to look her in the eyes. He was quiet for a moment before her hand moved to touch his face.
“Sometimes people talk, and their talking gets louder and the more you hear the more you think it true,” he rambles. (Y/N) brings her hand and places it on his cheek.
“Well, those people are stupid for spreading those rumours,” she comments.
“But what if-,” Alfie tries to say, but she cuts him off.
“If I was forced to be in this relationship with you, would I have accepted your marriage proposal? Or deal with your endeavours with the bakery and other gang-related things?” the confession acted like an anchor for his doubtful thoughts.
“I love you,” he confesses, planting a kiss against her neck.
“ And I love you,” she replies. “Now, let me show you how much I love you,” She states while moving from his lap.
“Round 2? I thought you got enough of me last night?” he asks.
“I can never get enough of you Alfie,” she replies before disappearing under the bedsheets.
#alfie solomons fluff#fanfiction#fanfic#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders x reader#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons#alfie x reader
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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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@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms @midnightmagpiemama @adaydreamaway08
#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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Taboo
Alfie Solomons X Reader
TW(?): Mentions of Cheating
Summary: What if you meet the love of your love but you’re already married to someone else?
“Feel free to kill me for saying this...”
The rain quietly hits the grey pavement of the grim street, the lights are open even though it’s quite early in the afternoon. A faint scream comes from the corner, a kid running through the splashing rain with a jacket on his shoulders. The shops are all open, the businesses booming around town while the changing autumn weather gets the best of the unprepared.
You stand in the bakery shop.
A sigh leaves your lips, umbrella left somewhere at home while you shiver lightly in the bread smell covered little box you’re standing in. Your dress is light for the weather as it rests against your collarbones, the pinkish color matching the blush on your cheeks. You smile at the workers after thanking them for letting you stay in until the weather is a little bit better.
You don’t want to go home.
It hadn’t been your idea, the whole marriage deal. It wasn’t like you hated your husband. William was sweet to you, gentle even but there was no passion in the relationship. You knew marriage was an economical proposition, William was the best option you had at the time and he had been intriguing enough for you to say yes.
You sometimes wish you hadn’t.
Another light shiver runs up your spine but before you can rub your hands together again, the bell on the door rings, indicating someone else came in the shop. The chatter filled air is silent when the door closes, the life out of the shop sucked out once the new guest arrives.
It’s him.
His hat is covered in rain and so are his shoulders, you can’t completely see his face since his hat creates a shadow under the well-lit room. Your eyes travel along his golden beard, following the ring covered hand of his and his crown tattoo catches your eye but all along, you just stand in the same place.
His eyes travel across the small shop, giving a nod of recognition to the familiar workers as they get his regular order ready. It’s early for him to be showing up in the afternoon hours but no one in the shop is daring enough to question the gangster. While he looks around the small wooden place, his eyes land on the little pretty lady standing next to the window.
You seem to be lightly shivering, he gathers its because of your light dress. His eyes roam around our body, a little too inappropriately for a while and he stops when he sees you looking right at him. You give him a small smile, it’s your form of greeting and he’s too stunned to smile back so he nods at you.
He knows you as the little lady around the corner. You’re young, at least half his age. He knows you’re married to that wealthy William bloke, the one who doesn’t talk much and he wonders if he talks to you or if he is as boring as Alfie makes him out to be. His eyes travel across your back and he admires your wavy hair under the light. You look picturesque as he takes a better look at you.
“Afternoon, Mr. Solomons.” speaks one of the employees, hand holding two bags of bread and bakeries for him. You can sense the tension in the air but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest, you have a lot of it at your own home.
The first couple of years were good, you think. William was attentive and calm like he usually was but the more time passed, the quieter he became. He didn’t talk much in the first place but you’d always been the conversation maker anyway. With the passing years, the house grew dull and so did your relationship to your husband.
At least he was wealthy, you thought.
Feeling the stranger’s eyes on you, you looked right back at him. There was an air around him, the kind of aura that perked your interest. You always had the tendency to get yourself in trouble, it was why your mom wanted you to marry William. Because he was good and well-behaved and you were fire, you were pure trouble and he balanced you out.
“It ‘s, yeah.” Alfie speaks to the employee, getting the bags from his hand while keeping his eyes mostly on you.
You feel the rain get lighter by the passing second, if only you had an umbrella. It’s possible for you to go home on foot from the bakery but if you do so, you know the pastries will get wet and you don’t want to hear your husband complain.
You don’t realize this is Alfie’s shop, not until you figure who he is.
You’ve heard things, everyone has. You know the scary old gangster that resides on the same part of London as you. Most people are scared of the man, only knowing him as the murderer and the powerful man they made him out to be but you know better than to stare at him for too long.
He sees the glisten in your eyes and hesitates to walk out of the shop. He knows you’re a regular but he’s never had the pleasure of seeing you up close before. You’re proper lovely, he thinks and the more he looks at you, the more he realizes that you’re not the type to shy away by any means.
“Lass..” he speaks, taking a step closer to you and the employees are all gone to the back by the time you look up to meet his blue eyes.
“Yes?” you speak, your voice is so breathy that it makes his eyes flutter. He smiles a little, not able to hide the hints of amusement on his face as he takes a good look at your features.
You’re young, you already look younger than you are and he sees the lack of experience written in your delicate features. His eyes travel to your lips as you lick them, your soft eyes illuminated by the bakery shop as you stare up at him with curious eyes.
“Ya’ need help?” he speaks and you shoot him a daring look, allowing him to speak further and he feels himself get carried away. “The bags, yeah, I got a fuckin’ umbrella right ‘ere.” his voice fades by the end of his sentence but your eyes don’t budge. He knows you’re not scared of the big scary gangster.
“I...uh.” you speak, eyes traveling to his hand where he’s holding the said umbrella. You give him a faint smile then, you don’t want to go home but the offer is far too intriguing.
He seems dangerous, you’re drawn to him.
“That’d be wonderful, thank you.” you say and the movement that follows your words is almost automatic as you smile up at him.
He opens the door for you after getting the umbrella ready, the thing is more than enough for the both of you and since you happen to be half the man’s size, you easily manoeuvre your way next to him under the grimy weather. You stand next to him for a couple minutes as he looks down at you, your curious eyes ogling the man who’s currently holding up an umbrella for you.
He smiles down at you, in an adoring way almost and starts walking under the umbrella with you on his side. As the smell of rum and vanilla consumes you, you come to realise that the bloke walking next to you is a lot more taller than you’d anticipated. You need to crane your neck to look up at him but you shrug the thought away and keep walking.
You soon realise that the gentlemen has been staring the whole time, his glances grow longer and longer each time he takes a look at you. You gulp, realising that you’ve probably made a poor decision by accepting the stranger’s offer since he happens to be a gangster but you look past it.
“Yer’ shiverin’, pet.” he speaks, looking down at you once again and you ignore the little flip of your stomach when he does.
“Oh.” you speak, not knowing why he felt the need to point the fact out. “It is raining outside, I’d say that’s fairly normal.” you speak, biting back a response and he looks at you with a low chuckle, you don’t look feisty to him but your words say otherwise.
“Fuckin’ hell.” he mutters under his breath and you smile at his reaction, he doesn’t know what he’s in for.
You don’t feel the need to apologize for biting back a response like you just have, although most proper ladies would. You’re far too tired and spent for that, just no matter how much younger you are. His eyebrows shoot up when you remain silent, he’s waiting for some kind of ‘sorry’ for the fact that you’ve just talked back to a gangster.
“Proper lady like yourself, yeah, shouldn’t be speakin’ that way.” he says, his suggestion is lighthearted but it makes you look up at him as you walk next to the built man. His hand is tugging at his beard as his orbs stare at you.
“What makes you think I’m a proper lady?” you speak, the whole sentence filled with giggles as you make out the words. You’re far from proper.
Oh, if only he knew.
He’s heard of you. It wasn’t like everyone knew of how wild you were before you had gotten married but as the man who ran the town you were currently residing in, it was hard not to. He’s heard of the young girl with the wicked smile, the one many lusted after but she was soon married off to a wealthy guy to make sure she didn’t get pregnant or run off.
“Ya’ definitely look like one, lass.” he speaks under his breath when you stop at your doorstep.
The apartment you live in is the posh area, thanks to the money your husband so earnestly earns. His whole family is known for their money which was why your mother had jumped to the idea of marrying one of his kin, so that you’d leave a comfortable life with a quiet husband.
But she hadn’t realised that there was no love between the two of you.
There was understanding and a lot of quiet but no love. The sex was adequate but William was selfish when it came to it, it wasn’t like what you wanted sex to be for the rest of your life and much like with everything else, his family had blamed you for not being able to get pregnant years on end. You were to blame for all things, no matter what it was.
“Well, this proper looking lady thanks you for walking her home.” you spoke, a smile on your lips after you climbed onto the doorstep. Your height was even now, the steps had done that and you could see his features a little clearer.
Wasn’t he supposed be an old guy?
His golden beard covered a good portion of his handsome features but you could see that he was a sharp looking gentlemen. His blue orbs were gentle as they gazed into your eyes, his plump lips curtained by his beard as they glistened under his umbrella. You ignored the way his smell surrounded you, the maid would be opening the door soon and you’d have to go in.
“Very much welcome, yeah, my fuckin’ pleasure.” he smiled at you, his gaze getting stuck on your lips every now and then and he was not subtle about it which made you smile back at him.
You heard the footsteps of the maid from the other side of the room, the rain long gone now but the umbrella is still in its place in his calloused hands. You gulp and he senses the hesitation, his gaze dropping on your wedding ring every now and then.
“See you around, Mr. Solomons.” And you disappear behind the front door.
-----
A month.
A month passes by where the handsome scary gangster comes by the bakery a little too often. The workers know the reason is you but you remain oblivious. There are more pastries in your house each day, he sends them as his regards on the days you don’t stop by. You don’t tell your husband but he’s away on business on most days as you writhe in the big house.
You’re situated on the floor in nothing but your nightgown. There’s a book on your lap and a drink in your hand, you try not to drink in the afternoons but wine is too intriguing. You sip on the cold drink while laying on the cold wooden surface, feet moving along to the little rhythm that plays in the room from the corner.
You don’t think about the way his eyes roam all over your body and how he licks his lips every time you smile at him. Your mind is not on how his rings feel on your skin as he guides your hands through the shelves in the bakery. He knows which bread is good and he’s gotten to know your taste, your breath hitches every time he stands too close to watch as you decide on which loaf to get for the day.
You don’t hear the knock.
The maid is quick on her feet to greet the guest. She understands the struggles of being married to someone you don’t love, she’s almost a friend to you while you ask her to teach you things like knitting and cooking each week. There’s an understanding between the two of you, something that comes from being females in this cold world. You think of her as a gift from your husband, since the bloke is always away.
“Miss.” the maid speaks, her voice is quiet and you don’t look up from your book as you lay on the floor, just a nod of acknowledgment that tells her to keep speaking. “You have a guest.”
But you don’t know anyone.
Your eyes look up at her first but your eyes soon travel to the tall man next to her. You know the hat. Your body is fast to get up, feeling some need to cover up with something since the nightgown you’re wearing is merely a thin dress. You gulp, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as you nod at the maid, she’s quick to leave.
“Mr. Solomons.” you speak, voice cautious as you stare up at him. He’s wearing his usual attire and you can smell the bakes goods he’s brought. But you’re oblivious as to why he’s in your house.
“Miss Y/N.” he speaks, he knows you’re married.
“It’s Mrs, actually.” you say, before you can register. There are lines you cannot cross, you’re aware but you don’t realise just how eager you feel to cross them.
“Right.” he says, eyes dropping to your wedding ring once again.
Your hand shows him the seat, ushering him to take a seat but his eyes are glued on your small form. He can see your body clearly under the afternoon light that creeps from the open blinds. He takes the seat and hears the sound of the pot, the maid is making tea and he wonders if you do this a lot, invite unmarried dangerous man to your house and seduce them with just a look.
But you haven’t even done anything.
“What brings you here?” you speak as you lift the book and the drink and put both of them on the drawer next to the shelves. He soon realises the whole room is decorated with books, paintings and music records, so this is what you do when your husband is away.
“Curiosity.” he speaks, eyes scanning yours for any kind of sign but all you have in your orbs is a sign.
You’re warning him.
You’re married, you so badly wish you weren’t in this moment but you are. There’s a wedding band on your ring and you’re bound to another man. He’s boring, wealthy but he’s too quiet for you. No matter just how fucked up it all is, you don’t feel the courage to betray William. He’s been fairly good to you, leaving you on your own with a maid who’s been a good friend to you. He provides for you and he’s bought you everything you want.
“I see.” you speak, not sure of yourself because you don’t trust yourself around this man. He’s far too intriguing.
You give him a smile then, it’s the same kind of smile of a girl who’s bound to break Alfie’s heart. He knows it and you know it, too. The maid quietly comes in then, tea and pastries the beloved gangster has brought on a tray and she sets the table up for the two of you and leaves, just like that.
“Mr. Solomons, I-” you start once the maid is out, he’s relentless, you think as he cuts you off.
“Cut that out, pet, yeah, we both know there’s no fuckin’ use to it.” he speaks and you smile again, his words cut through the silence a little harsher than he meant for them to do.
“Alright then.” you speak and get up to settle on the table. He follows your movements and soon, you’re both sitting on the table with tea cups on our hand. “Alfie.” your voice is breathy as you whisper his name, he can’t help but imagine how your voice would sound like in the middle of a good fuck.
“Feel free to kill me for saying this, pet...” he speaks, voice altering but it’s easy to sense his confidence. You watch him under a heavy gaze while he takes a sip from his cup and speaks. “..but you’re awfully distracting for a man like me.”
He speaks the truth as he looks at you. He’s been feeling rather frenzy, thoughts occupied mostly by work and then there was the thought of you creeping in between the lines. How you’d look after a good fuck, seeming as you don’t get any with your husband being away and all. He found himself thinking about you as he stared at the fire place, the little lady around the corner who seemed too feisty for her own good, fucking gorgeous too if he was to add.
“A man like you?” you speak, eyes traveling across the table to meet his blue ones. You see him smile and shake your head, he’s already a goner.
“Fuckin’....criminal, yeah. Have you not heard what I fuckin’ do, pet?” he asks, eyes searching yours but the only thing he finds it is amusement.
“Aren’t you the scary big gangster around the corner?” you ask, a wide smile on your lips after you take a sip from the hot cup of tea.
So you do know, he thinks.
And you know. You know he kills for a living and that the bakery is just a cover up, word travels fast around here. You know he’s crushed a man’s windpipe with the hold of his head, that he’s nothing but trouble. You know all about the money he collects, the way people tremble when they hear he’s around. You know all about him.
“I am, yeah. And seein’ as I am just that, your pretty little self shouldn’t be concerned with me, right.” he speaks and you see the lines of hesitation flicker on his face. It’s his time to warn you but you’ve already crossed a line and you intend to push him since he’s made the effort to come to you.
“Concerned?” you ask, taken aback a little and you watch him watch you while you take a sip.
He’s playing with the devil herself and he doesn’t even know it.
“I’m not concerned at all. Just interested.” you speak into the silence and he swears he hears his heart pounding on his chest. You were the woman they’d warned him about after all.
He chuckles at your words, eyes widening for a second as he leans back. His hand tugs at his beard, observing you for a second before his deep voice fills the house your husband bought for you. “Interested, yeah?”
“Hmm.” you hum, nodding as you confirm his words. You’re wilder than he thinks, he says to himself but he’s definitely not the one to shy away so he stares right ahead at you. “Very much so.”
“You, yeah..” his finger points at you then which brings a soft smile to your lips, you look like an angel yet you speak of devilish things. “..seem like nothin’ but trouble.” he speaks, eyes not off you for a second as you find him even more intriguing.
“Isn’t it your job to deal with said trouble?” you blink at him, literally batting eyelashes as he looks at you.
He doesn’t even like your husband, he thinks. Why is he hesitating so much?
He chuckles once again, he’s impressed to say the least. He knows the maid is in the house somewhere, surely listening but you don’t seem to give a damn. He sees the need for danger, for thrill and excitement in this little boring life you’re stuck with and if he’s honest with himself, he’ll willingly be the source of all thrill for you but something stops him from doing that.
The uncertainty of what you’re asking for.
Just when he’s getting deep into thought, you break the chain of sentences that reside on his mind by clearing your throat softly and speaking. You don’t beat around the bush.
“Look, Alfie..” your voice is stern this time. “..I don’t do this, ever. I need you to know that I’ve been loyal to my husband since the beginning, despite the things I’m sure you’ve heard..” you speak, and you are right. He’d heard an awful lot about you, mostly bad but he’d ignored it. He had the same treatment himself. “I don’t have time to beat around the bush. I need relief.....in all senses of the word.”
He watches you under a stern stare, he sees the glint of truth and bluntness mixed in with your words. “If you are willing to provide me with said relief, you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you please but if not, you can go back through the same door you came from.”
You smile at the end of your sentence, he can’t tell of he’s about to sell his soul to the devil herself or if you are just looking for a way out. His eyes scan your half dressed form, if he’s honest with himself, you’ve been the only thing in his mind for the last month but he’s too proud to show it. He’s attracted to you, drawn to your small form like moth to a flame and he truly doesn’t care that you’re married.
Sometimes, he thinks, people marry the wrong partners.
And you’re the perfect example of that. He knows your bloke is out on some country, you’re more than sure he’s already cheated a couple times but it doesn’t bother you. You don’t love William, you like his company but that’s also not something you prefer. You need the attention you crave from Alfie and he seems like the perfect gentlemen.
“Alright, lass.” he speaks, playing with his rings still as he looks at your small form once again. William doesn’t know he’s missing out on a goddess, he thinks. You flash him a small smile when he gets up to either leave or accept the generous offer.
He gets sex, he gets you and he gets to do it all in someone else’s mess. He knows certain things will develop with time but he’s too riled up at the moment to think about them, his judgement gets cloudier each time he thinks of what it would be like to have you all to himself, a piece of heaven.
His voice fills the oak walls and you wickedly smile after his words. After he’s done speaking, he’ll follow you to the bathroom and the walls will be filled with something other than the faint jazz music from the record player for once.
“Lead the way.”
-----
Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @babaohhhriley @fairypitou @tommydoesntpayforsuits @paintballkid711 @misselsbells06
a/n: Ok soooooo i was gone for like....idk how long but uni kicked my ass and i had to take some time off but anyway i hope all you angels are doing good!!<33 Idk if this means i’m back YET bc i have to move soon so there’s thatBUT i hope you enjoy this and let me know what you thought of it <3 xoxo
also i don’t support cheating or anything of the kind THIS IS IMAGINARY <3
#alfie#alfie solomons#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons series#peaky blinders#alfie solomons smut#alfie solomons scenario#alfie solomons fanfiction#alfie solomons fluff#alfie solomons fic#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x shelby!reader#alfie solomons peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders alfie#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders smut#peaky blinders scenario#peaky blinders x sister!reader#peaky blinders fiction#alfie solomons angst#peaky blinders fluff#eames tom hardy#tom hardy alfie solomons#tom hardy series#tom hardy scenario#alfie solomons ssmut
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Alfie Solomons / All Things Must Pass
Reader is having a ptsd episode at work when Alfie finds her
You had that hollow feeling again, that nauseous shallow feeling in your chest and in your bones. The ache that hurt but didn't feel real. The ache that made you feel like you weren't real.
You stood behind a stack of books starring at your trembling fingers, not sure whether they were really your trembling fingers or not. Your mind had fuzzed again. There were things you were supposed to be doing but you weren't doing anything. You couldn't do anything. Somewhere at the back of your brain the list of tasks you'd been given that morning by your boss hovered like fruit flies, barely there at all. The last little tethers connecting you to reality, floating and buzzing but hardly hanging on. Hardly getting through to you because the fog was so thick.
You'd been full of the jitters that morning as you left the little room you rented in Camden Town. You'd jumped at every sharp sound, unable to focus as the bright morning light got in your eyes and the ruckus from the market overwhelmed your senses. You were trembling as you crossed the bridge over the Thames and took your usual cut down by the lock. And when you'd stepped out in front of a horse and cart because somehow - somehow! - you hadn't noticed it, you'd feared not the horse whinnying, hooves kicking up on it's hind legs, but for the man who had shaken his fists and cursed at you reaching for the whip beside him as if to thrash you with it.
You'd cried out, tears in your eyes as you'd fled the scene without looking back, scurrying like a frightened mouse the rest of your journey until finally you'd found yourself in the little bookshop where you worked 10 hours a day for very little money. Still, there were much worse jobs to have and the quiet little shop hardly ever visited, was a haven of yours. A dimly lit little hideaway which shielded you from the hustle and bustle of the grimy city you lived in.
You'd been relieved to close the little door behind you and close your eyes for a moment, pressing your palms flat to the wood, reminding yourself that the dread which overwhelmed you outside would soon pass. You'd feel alright again soon.
You had to feel alright again soon. There were books to be sold. Money to be made.
But that had been hours ago and despite your best efforts you hadn't been able to drag yourself back from that doomed precipice you'd teetered over that morning. All day you wandered around the book shop trembling, eyes darting around the room, your senses in overdrive, every sound startling you; the bell above the door, the voice of a customer just asking for your help, the jingle of coins falling and scattering across the counter when someone dropped their change.
By the early afternoon you felt physically and emotionally shattered. Like you were a piece of fine china which had been broken and then tenuously pieced back together. The glue barely holding your shape. You felt like the smallest breeze might be enough to see you crumble, turn into dust on the mosaic floor beneath your feet.
And whats left after your senses have driven you over the edge? Once the day has ground you down? Theres only so long that adrenaline can last and when it begins to fade, when it begins to drain from your body it takes a little bit of your soul with it. You feel as though you've been dragged from yourself. As though someones cracked you open and scooped your insides out, left you nothing but a hollow shell. A broken teapot glued back together, about to break again.
Thats how you felt then as you gazed emptily down at your fingers. Your chest ached with the hollow sorrow which cocooned around you now. Your mind a thick cloud, darker than the smog which lingered over London Town. And this time when the bell above the door jingled you didn't even hear it. Didn't notice anyone come in at all.
"Y/N?" a voice called out from the doorway, their tone as if they'd already called out to you three or four times. That air of concern which knitted a frown on your brow as you concentrated hard on pulling yourself out of the smog for just long enough to recognise him.
"Alf?" you forced a tiny smile as you poked your head from round the stack of books which had hidden you from him, "whatre you doing here?" you asked, your voice strange to the man who knew you so well. He could tell you didn't feel yourself.
"Ah there you are zieskiet," he smiled, his crooked smile tugging at the corner of his scarred cheek, "was beginning to think the tyrant had given you that holiday you deserve..." he said trailing off as he stepped closer to you, got a better look at you.
When he raised his hands to your face and held your cheeks in his palms the frown etched onto his brow and the familiar concern which softened his eyes told you it was no good trying to pretend anymore.
"What you doin hiding away in behind all these books eh?" he asked quietly, his usually gruff voice quieter as he spoke to you.
You looked up at him with guilty glowing eyes, little tears gathered just above your lower lashes, threatening to spill if he kept being so soft with you.
"Hiding..." you said, the sad little smirk on your lips almost enough to break the old man's unbreakable heart.
"Right," he said, his calloused thumb brushing your cheek slowly, "right I thought that might be your answer zieskiet..." he mused, "yeah, I thought that might be the case... Alright then..." he said thinking carefully, looking around the huge stack of books which hid you away from the rest of the store. "Alright poppet," he said, "s'alright your Alfie's here now ain't he, no more hidin for you now eh," he said wrapping his big arms around you and holding you tightly to his chest, resting his chin atop your head as he closed his eyes and thought carefully about what he would do next.
This was a side to the older man which only ever came out for you and you knew that if anyone else around Camden town were to walk in and see him now they would presume their eyes decieved them. That it wasn't the infamous Alfie Solomons holding you so careful and tender in the middle of that mustu bookshop. That it was just someone who looked a little like him, that when they thought about it this man really didn't resemble the callous and cut throat man they were thinking of. But it was, the very same Alfie Solomons who put fear into the hearts of all who knew him. He was the only man on this earth who could pacify you, who could make you feel so safe and secure with the simplest of sentences, the simplest of gestures.
As he held you then, his lips pressed firm but gentle in your hair, you felt your trembling temprement begin to settle. Your nerves beginning to ebb because he was here now, your Alfie, and he was going to do as he always did. Fix everything.
."Right then," he mused, "gonna tell you what's gonna happen next alright poppet," he said kissing your head again, kissing your temple once or twice between words as he rocked you gently and did his best to steady you. "Gonna help you shut up shop for the day..."
"Alfie no!" you gasped looking up at him with wide startled eyes but he just raised his thumb to your lips and pressed down gently on them to hush you.
"I'm not finished yet zieskiet," he mumbled with a soft smirk. "I'm gonna help you close up right, because there ain't no ammount of money you can earn for that miserable bastard boss if yours thats worth you spending your day looking so forlorn right..." he said brushing your cheek with his thumb, as he carried on talking to you in that meandering easy way of his.
"Then I'm gonna take you straight home yeah, you and me, we're gonna go straight home right and you're gonna sit down and take those deep breaths you do and I'm gonna draw you a nice hot bath yeah, relax those tired little muscles of yours, wash your lovely lovely hair... " murmured stroking his fingers through your hair as he spoke, one hand tangled, the other holding your lower back, using his hips to move you side to side in a slow and gentle current.
Your eyes had fluttered shut and when he kissed his lips softly over your eyelids you couldn't hide your smile. Your cheeks blossoming a pretty little shade of red.
"Then I'm gonna bundle you up in the softest towels and carry you straight to your bed where, if you ask me zieskiet, you should have stayed this morning instead of abandoning it and me in exchange for this dreary little cave..."
"This dreary little cave is my..." you tried to tell him you needed the job, you'd tried to tell him that so many times already however and you knew Alfie wouldn't listen. He was stubborn about these things, the things he believed to be the best for his girl.
"Ah ah ah don't start that again my little zieskiet, me an you both know that old cunt don't pay you enough..." he said ever defensive of you, ever convinced that nothing, absolutely nothing would ever be good enough for you. "And besides, if you stay a minute longer, he'll have to pay you for being here right... And I've been already decided yeah, that I ain't leaving your side for the rest of the day right... Which means me yeah, thats Alfie fuckin Solomons, the fuckin grudge of Camden Town yeah, infamous gangland one man horror show... Is gonna be loitering yeah, fuckin lingerin in this murky little... This - quite frankly - dusty old shithole... And there ain't a soul in Camden Town who isn't gonna come in here, set their bookish little eyes on me and fuckin flee to the fuckin high hills of... I don't know... "he trailed off with a shrug, "Durham or somewhere I don't know..."
He was smirking to himself by the time he'd finished, partially amused by his own eccentiricity, how even he'd lost track of what he was saying half way through saying it because he'd been adding those extra embellishments to try and draw a smile from you. Partially because he knew he was right and he knew that you knew he was right, and he was feeling pretty smug about the fact that the both of you knew you couldn't argue with the unfathomable depths of his logic.
"So either way no books are gettin sold today zieskiet, not by you anyway... For fear of soundin like that commie Shelby girl who's always shoutin outside parliament eh, if your boss wants to make his money today he's gonna have to get off his lazy good for nothin arse and fuckin make it himself..."
You giggled then, Alfie's apparent hatred for your boss, who was in reality a very meek and mild mannered, bookish type of man, amusing you, leaving a smile on your face which lit you up a little and eased Alfie's worries for you slightly too.
"There we are," he smirked rubbing his thumb over your smiling lips, poking your dimple affectionately, "thats better eh, a proper view to behold that is poppet," he said leaning down to brush a kiss to your lips,taken back when you latched onto him, clutching at the cotton of his shirt and kissing him back a little harder than either of you had expected you to.
You couldn't help it though. There was something about his over protective streak that, when it came out on days like to day, made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Made you feel like his kisses were the oxygen you breathed, the water you drank, and you were suddenly so very thirsty.
He chuckled as he pulled away, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand before taking your face in his palms and framing your beautiful expression.
You didn't look calm or even happy but you did look a little more settled. More than that you were looking up at him with these grateful sparkling eyes, little tears there, struggling to swallow a lump in your throat because you didn't know how to behave when he was so kind to you at times like this. Times when you felt fragile and lost, when you felt like you were letting him down. How could someone so breakable as you be good enough for him, the one man walking horror show of Camden town?
But he held you so tenderly, as though to him you were the most precious thing in the whole world, as if you were the center of his universe - and you were. And it was hard to doubt yourself when he looked at you so seriously and full of love.
"Come on now my little zieskiet, let's get you home eh, I've come to take you home..." he said gently, holding one of your hands, your still trembling fingers up to his lips and kissing each finger tip delicately one by one, holding your gaze as he did, "gonna take you home and make everythin better eh and you don't need to be scared or worried about anything right cause I'm your old man yeah, and your old man's gonna fix everything now... Gonna make everything better zieskiet, gonna make it all better..."
And like butter in his hands you felt yourself melting for him, your frayed nerves giving in, your mind which had been full ti bursting with arguments and worries and fears, clouding over as you let him take control of everything for you, let him lead you out of that little bookshop, tucked under his arm, all the way back to his house, which was more your home these days than your actual home.
#peaky blinders imagines#alfie solomans x reader#alfie solomons fluff#Peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders fanfiction#alfie solomons fanfic
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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 Spy... a Budding Romance | Alfie Solomoms x nb!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ "If you keep doing that, we won't be going anywhere." "Is that supposed to sound like a bad thing?"
[No pressure, but could this be with the Fiesty pairing please?]❞
: ̗̀➛ You and Alfie are getting closer and it's only a matter of time until something develops even more.
: ̗̀➛ swearing
↳ PART ONE: FEISTY
↳ PART TWO: ACCEPTANCE
↳ PART THREE: I WANT YOU TO STAY
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
Alfie stretched his legs as he stared out of the window of the car, his hand on your thigh as he watched the hills roll on past; somehow, he had managed to convince you to spend the weekend with him at his sister's home on the outskirts of the city.
He still wasn't sure what stroke of luck had blessed him, and when he moved his hand slightly upwards, he flinched; the sharp sound of a playful slap, against a soft sting on his wrist made him draw his attention to you as he cocked a brow and tilted his head to the side.
You took a second to glare at him, although he could see the tremble in your lip as you chewed at the inside of it; desperate not to laugh but failing so terribly at keeping it hidden.
"If you keep doing that, we won't be going anywhere," you threatened.
"Is that supposed to sound like a bad thing?" Alfie purred, leaning over so that he could gently kiss the side of your neck.
You gently pushed him away. "Fuck off!"
"Alright, alright," he hummed, leaning back and watching as you grinned and laughed to yourself. "Fuckin' 'ell, no need to be so feisty all the time."
"I wouldn't need to be if you kept your hands to yourself," you warned.
"Oi!" He gasped. "Look who's fuckin' talkin', sunshine!"
"What?" You laughed loudly at last, the sound musical to Alfie's ears and making his heart pound as much as his head spin.
"Last night," Alfie started, "you couldn't keep your fuckin' hands off me! Constantly fuckin' shoving your cold hands up my shirt!"
"It was cold!" You defended, trying to sound convincing.
"Yeah, sure," he scoffed, beaming as he hummed and pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes. "You love me, treacle, that's why you can't keep your mitts off me, you mug."
"Fuck," you breathed out. "You are such a bellend."
"You love me deadly," Alfie mused with a shadowed grin.
You rolled your eyes. "It's dearly."
"Whatever you say, my love," he chuckled, earning a playful smack to his shoulder that made him guffaw.
"Stop it!" You laughed. "I'm trying to fucking drive!"
Alfie eyed you from under the brim of his hat, grinning from ear to ear; he never would have thought from the first time he had met you at your shop that he would end up attached at the hip.
He insisted that you were to always be in his eyesight, even going so far to move his office to be across the street from you; you would have lunch with him in his office every day, talking for hours until one of your employees stood outside and waved you over to come back.
You always kissed his cheek, telling him to behave or you would finish all the puzzles in the newspaper.
It was routine, and as easily as Alfie fit into it, you took to it like a greyhound chasing rabbits. He loved it, but you never told him you did. He could see it in how you smiled and laughed, though, that was enough for him.
As much as you did enjoy his company, though, you would never tell him; Alfie had a big enough ego, you didn't need to feed into it by admitting that not only did you adore him, but you massively enjoyed his company, too.
You hated it when he left on work trips; you rarely slept when he was gone at night, even though Cyril always slept at the foot of the bed and kept you safe, you just couldn't quite snuggle down and drift off the same way you could when Alfie was there.
But you knew he felt the same, as he always called and spoke to you for hours; constant banter and teasing, just like there was now in the car.
He made you laugh, in all honesty, and you appreciated that about him more than anything else; he made you laugh, and not even just occasionally, either, he kept up with you and your humour with ease. You liked that the most about him, although you still wouldn't be caught dead saying that.
"Alright, sunshine," Alfie hummed, removing his hat and staring out the window. "I spy with my little eye... somethin' beginnin' with A."
You scoffed. "Agricultural land?"
"What the fuck?"
"Never mind," you laughed softly, rolling your eyes. "I dunno."
"Amazin'," he beamed, turning to you.
"Alfie..." you huffed. "Shut the fuck up."
"Your turn, my love."
"Fine," you mumbled. "I spy with my little eye... something beginning with... C."
"Cows?" He guessed.
"Nope."
"Crows?"
"Nah."
"Cars?"
"Wrong again," you laughed. "You're shit at this game, y'know."
"Oh, fuck off," Alfie laughed. "What is it?"
"Cunt," you hummed, gesturing to him. "G'on, your turn."
"I spy with my little eye, something beginning with S," he told you with a large smile.
"Seagull?" You guessed.
"No."
"Sun?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Song birds?"
"See, now who's shit?" He guffawed.
"Shit in your hands and clap," you grinned. "Tell me."
"Significant other," Alfie told you.
The car lurched to a stop.
"What?!"
"You," he started, "look, treacle, I fuckin' know that you like me, and I fuckin' like you in all. I don't see why we don't say, well fuck everybody else - we're gonna be together. I mean, think about it - you're amazin', you're fuckin' brilliant. You're my sunshine."
You licked your lips before sighing heavily. "Alfie?"
"Mmhmm?"
"I need you to shut the fuck up," you breathed out. "And I need you to meet me at the left side of the car, and if you don't fucking kiss me, I will bin every single earl grey teabag you own. Do I make myself clear?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Unfortunately."
#mlem writes#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons x y/n#alfie solomons imagine#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons fluff#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders x you#peaky blinders x y/n#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fic#peaky blinders fluff#peaky blinders#tom hardy x reader#tom hardy x you#tom hardy x y/n#tom hardy imagine#tom hardy imagines#tom hardy fanfiction#tom hardy fanfic#tom hardy fic#tom hardy
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He was her home. That was the only way she could describe how her heart longed to be near him. Without him she did not feel whole. She did not feel like she belonged.
Her heart had found it's home with him, and every day he was away from her, her heart yearned to feel safe and loved like she did when she was in his warm arms.
But for now, her old teddy bear and the delicately stored letters were her comfort. Soon she would be in his arms again. Soon.
Just a little thing to brighten up @zablife 's day 🤗🌼 Have a great weekend, Lee!! 🧡
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What happens when you defend them?
Thanks to @liliac-dreamer for giving me this idea!!!
You and your significant other are minding your own business until your not! 😳
Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @potter-solomons @liliac-dreamer @mollybegger-blog
Grimes causes trouble!
Training with Tommy was by all accounts exhausting, but the deal was he would do something you wanted to do if you agreed to do something he wanted to do. Tommy flashed a small smirk as he watched you huff and puff, "how are you not out of breath yet?" You asked. "Used to it," Tommy explained quietly. You shook your head, "ya know, you could've just knocked me out instead of trying to short-circuit my brain with lack of oxygen!" You exclaimed once you caught your breath, making Tommy chuckle quietly.
"I'll knock you out in the bedroom later," Tommy explained with a wink. Smirking again as your eyes went wide, "Tommy!" You yelped, lightly smacking his arm "we are in public!". "Does it look like I'm worried about that?" He asked, gesturing to himself as he took off his wraps.
"Got yourself a hot date or something?" The grating voice of Mad Dog Grimes approached. Tommy didn't even acknowledge his presence, making the other fighter rather annoyed. "You deaf now, too?" Grimes taunted, trying to grab Tommy's shoulder. Tommy shoved him away and sent him staggering backward.
The two seem to almost freeze up when you stood suddenly and put yourself in between them, "don't fucking touch him" you grumbled. Grimes smiled, "You think I'm going to listen to you?". "You better." you explained. "What are you gonna do? Hit me?" And that you did, the black boxing glove you borrowed from Tommy connected with Mad Dog's mouth, knocking him off balance. He stumbled enough that he fell back on his ass, "That's why you always gotta expect the unexpected Grimes!" Colt Boyd called from the other side of the room.
Mad Dog groaned irritatedly as he stood, "This isn't over Conlon!" He exclaimed, pointing at Tommy. "If you're gonna be enemies with someone, the least you can do is learn their name!" You griped as Mad Dog walked away in a huff. Tommy's mom didn't keep her married name and neither did Tommy.
You turned around to peck Tommy on the lips, pulling away confused when he didn't kiss you back. Tommy was just staring at you, like you were the birth of some kind of amazing new species he'd never seen before. "Come on, Champ," you said, pulling off the boxing gloves and grabbing your bag, "Let's get out of here.". Tommy was so used to being the defender that when he became the defended, he didn't know how to respond.
Stress ball.
"Would you rather have chocolate sushi or breast milk in your coffee?" Eddie asked, as you waited in line for your coffee order. "Where the hell do you come up with some of this stuff, Brock?" You laughed, Eddie laughed along with you.
After your laughter died down, Eddie glanced at the group of teenagers that walked in. He sighed and began squeezing a blob of Vemon that formed in the palm of his hand. "You okay, Ed?" You asked, knowing this was a sign he was overestimated but trying to mask it.
"Yeah, just getting kinda loud in here," he explained. Loud noises, especially overlapping chatter, had always been sensory hell for Eddie's autism, even before he had Vemon. "You can wait outside if you need to," you smiled softly. "Nah! I got V, we'll manage, " Eddie said, gesturing to the ball of blackness in his hand.
"What'd you name your toy?" One of the teen boys laughed. "screw off!" You exclaimed, Eddie was having a hard enough time as it was, and you weren't going to let some stupid teenage boys make it worse!
"And we're supposed to listen to you?" Another one of the teens laughed. "Yes, you are!" A low voice growled. You glanced over at Eddie and saw Vemon's head protruding out from the neck of Eddie's shirt, still hiding themself enough for Eddie's comfort.
"Listen to the morsel, or you will lose your head," Vemon threatened, and needless to say, the group of teens hurried out of the coffee shop after that!
Eddie smiled, "Thanks, guys".
Voice of reason.
Alfie waved his pistol in the air, rambling on like the madman he was. Tommy Shelby glanced over at you from his seat, taking a drag off his cigarette and rolling his eyes. You smirked, you know your husband is a lunatic, but it's one of the reasons you love him.
"Now, yea, if you shoot someone, Tommy, right? You best shoot them in a way that guarantees you only have to do it once," Alfie explained. Hand movement never ceased as he did.
"Dose he ever shut up?" One of Tommy's goons whispered to his cohort. "Do you want to fuckin' repeat yourself?" You asked, looking over at the two men. Alfie fell silent, glancing at the pair and then at Tommy. "I don't like to repeat myself!" You exclaimed, standing up.
Before Alfie or Tommy could add their commentary to the situation, you marched toward Shelby's henchmen. "Are you fuckin' deaf?" You shouted in the man's face, who was still refusing to answer you.
Finally, losing your patience. You turn your back to the goons, acting like you were going back to your seat, but instead, you whipped back around and punched the git right in the nose.
"Now!" You exclaimed, marching back to your chair. "Maybe that will teach you to speak out of turn!" You shouted as you sat down, crossing your legs as the man whipped his now bloody nose on his sleeve.
Satisfied with your work, you look ahead at Alfie, who has been staring bugeyed at you since you started yelling. The surprise on his face turned into a smirk as he started to chuckle, "Fuckin' hell" he sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"I knew I fuckin' married you for a fuckin' reason, eh!"
Long engagement
"Collins!" Farrier smiled, hugging his best friend. "How are you?" You asked as Samantha, Collins' girlfriend, gave you a hug. "I'm good!" She smiled happily. The four of you haven't spent anywhere near enough time together for far too long, which was a more common occurrence than you'd like given you and Sam were courting two of the best spitfire pilots the Royal Air Force had to offer!
"So, when's the wedding?" Collins teased. "Piss off!" Farrier smiled, lighting a cigarette between his lips. You and Farrier have been engaged for over a year now and have yet to make any wedding plans, Collins found enjoyment in giving both of you a hard time for it.
"Collins!" Another pilot called from the aircraft hanger your group had gathered in front of. "Feeling charitable, are we?" The finely dressed pilot smirked, gesturing to Farrier, who glared at him in response.
Farrier was constantly harassed by a certain group of pilots, as he didn't come from as much money as they did, and these pilots thought of him to be of lower class than them. Collins could say he came from a well-off family, but he'd never degrade someone who didn't.
"Tosser" you grumbled. "Excuse me?" The other pilot asked. "I second that!" Collins exclaimed, "Farrier's one of the best bloody pilots we got, whether you like it or not!" He continued, "now, if you don't mind fucking off cause I'm rather busy with my mate and his lovely fiancé!".
With that, Collins grabbed Samantha's hand and began to walk off. You did the same with Farrier. "You didn't have to do that, Collins." Farrier mumbled once the two of you caught up with the other couple. "And let the bastard continue to insult you? Not a chance," Collins smiled, patting Farrier on the back.
Farrier sighed, "thanks mate" he said, finally giving in. "Better Collins tells them off then me, I wouldn't have been as pleasant" you explained. Farrier and Collins glanced at each and chuckled, Farrier kissed your cheek.
"Thank you too, love."
Coffee?
"You mean you haven't asked him out yet?" Maggie asked as she washed some cups in the sink. "And face his rejection? No, thank you!" You replied. "You don't know that!" Maggie exclaimed. You had been smitten for your boss for some time now, and your big sister wasn't helping the matter any.
The slow day was welcomed at the station, the barroom was filled with moonshiners. Including the Bondurant brothers, at the far end of the bar.
Howard leaned against the wall behind the bar, already about half gone despite it being noon. Jack and Cricket chatting amongst themselves. Forrest somewhat slumped over on his stool, fumbling with his half full glass of bourbon.
You entered the room, taking orders and chatting with some of the older familiar faces. Forrest watched you diligently, not once taking his eyes off you as you drifted around the room like a soft breeze.
His staring didn't go unnoticed by everyone, however, "Forrest, I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but staring ain't gonna get you nowhere!" Howard smiled. Forrest didn't pay no mind to his brother. Not many people knew Forrest like Howard and Jack did, and to them, it was obvious what he thought about you.
Suddenly, having grown tired of his brothers, Forrest stood and made his way over to you. You turned away from the table you were serving and near bumped into the silent man, jumping slightly. "How many times are you gonna do that?" You chuckled nervously. Forrest only stared at you, you gestured to the coffee pot in your hand, and Forrest nodded.
You smiled and moved past him to the kitchen, Forrest followed. "See something you like, Forrest?" Maggie asked over her shoulder. Forrest hummed in conformation. You glanced back at him to see his eyes were unashamedly on your ass.
Some chatter arose from the bar, Forrest sighed as he heard his name mentioned. What you heard made you furrow your brows, "Forrest Bondurant? You mean that useless bastard?" You grabbed the coffee pot and headed out there before Howard could break the man's face in.
When the brothers called each other useless, it was just teasing, but if someone else was brave enough or stupid enough to call, one of them that? Especially in front of all three of them? All hell would break loose, you beelined to the table Howard was moving toward. "You mind repeating yourself? Thought I heard something about my boss," you explained.
One of the men, the one you heard from the kitchen, glanced over at Forrest, who was now standing next to Howard. "You work for that?" He asked, pointing at Forrest as the middle brother crossed his arms. You glanced at Forrest and nodded, "Oh, you could do much better, darlin'." The man remarked, "ya see, them Bondurants..." You didn't let the man finish his insult, pouring some piping hot coffee in his lap.
"Oops," you smiled, as the man hurriedly stood up. "You bitc-!" The man was quickly thrown out by Howard along with his friend. The fight ensued outside, you turned to see Forrest staring at you.
"Why did you do that?" He asked quietly, narrowing his eyes. Feeling bold, you simply smiled and briefly kissed his lips, smiling even wider when he grunted softly into the kiss. After pulling apart, the two of you locked eyes for a moment.
"Now then!" You exclaimed, "How about that cup of coffee?".
#what happens when you defend them?#tommy conlon warrior#eddie brock/venom symbiote#alfie solomons fluff#farrier dunkirk#forrest bondurant lawless#tom hardy#fluff#fanfiction#snippets
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