#alfie x oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wandawiccan60 · 1 year

Text

I’m Sorry

An Alfie Solomons X Freya(FemOC)One-Shot

A/N: Hello everyone I know I have ghosted for a while just school and other things have happened lately good and bad really. But enough said but here is a lovely lovely One-Shot that I had the honor with working with my bestie and lovely @i-love-th-characters1. We thought of this story out of nowhere and we decided to make Alfie be such a brute because we thought that Alfie never really apologizes so we decided to make this tale of him and we are very proud to share this short and yet long one shot of the lovely King of Camden Town and his beautiful Scandinavian. Gypsy Freya(our very own OC). Romance, Friendship, etc is presented before your eyes and I hope you all enjoy this as much as me and I-love had such a fun and brainstorming time to bring this to life. Without further ado please as always enjoy, Reblog, Comment, and thank you all for being around I appreciate it every single one of you.

Summary: ”I'm Sorry."

Two words that she never thought she would hear from the man in front of her. If she's honest, she did look at him like he had 3 heads. Silence took over as they both stared at each other, wondering who would break it as his apology lingered between them.

WARNING 18+: Fem is a Virgin, Lit SMUT, Cussing, Mentions of Alcohol, & Lots Fluff

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The old grandfather clock chimed throughout the small hallway indicating that it was past 10 o'clock at night. Freya was peacefully sitting on the red velvet couch facing the small chimney fireplace. While in her hands she continued to read a book that she got from one of the bookshelves. Cyril was lying next to her feet on the floor while the smooth breeze of the ocean outside the window came inside the lit-up living room. Freya let out a low sigh placing the closed book on top of her lap feeling uneasy about Alfie not arriving home yet.

“Where could he be, it’s getting late?” she said out loud resting her back against the head of the couch hearing the crackling sound of the fireplace continuing to burn.

Feeling like time was going slow for Freya, Sophia, their young maid, appeared inside the living room making Cyril lift his head up from his nap.

“Would you like me to get you anything else for tonight Mrs. Solomons?” the young girl asked while picking up the silver tray from the small brown table in front of Freya.

“No, I’m quite alright now, Sophia thank you. It's best you head home. I'm still waiting for Alfie to arrive from his workplace. Don’t you worry about me, I can take care of the rest of the house. You have done a lot today which I appreciate very much and so does Alfie but enough said. Oh, and yes, your payment for this week's salary I’ll get that right away for you my dear. I’ll be right back,” Freya said, walking her way out of the living room to head to Alfie’s office, while Sophia put away the tea tray in the kitchen area.

A few minutes later Freya returned with the young woman’s payment in her hands, she saw Sophia giving cuddles and scratches to the big Bullmastiff. She smiled at the site while the big dog lay on his back enjoying the amount of attention he was getting from the young housemaid.

“Silly Cyril you, now come on then off to bed with you. Go on shoo, shoo,” Freya clapped commanding the big brown mutt to go away but was not listening.

“Hehe, seems he doesn't want to go to bed just yet, but I must go now Cyril I’ll see you tomorrow you sweet dog,” Sophia cooed raising herself on her feet smoothing out her white shirt dress.

“Here you go love,” Freya said handing over the young woman’s money as she continued speaking, “We’ll see you at the same hour in the morning as always, you walk safely back home now. Goodnight Sophia.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Solomons, and I’ll be here at 7 in the morning sharp like I always do. And it is a pleasure to serve you and Mr. Solomon-.”

The front door suddenly burst open making both women jump back in fright, noticing Alfie angrily mumbling some words under his breath. Both Sophia and Freya couldn't quite catch what he was saying, as he shut the door with force.

“Fuckin’ hell can tonight be something more difficult than the other nights,” Alfie loudly said walking his way towards his office room not noticing the girl's presence who have been seeing his small tantrum all this time.

“Umm, well then that means he didn’t have a good day at work I suppose. I apologize for my husband's behavior Sophia, he really isn't like this every night believe me. Anyways again goodnight dear, until the morning,” said Freya, opening the door for Sophia feeling embarrassed on the inside from Alfie’s actions.

After Sophia left the house, Freya with a small temper growing from inside, quickly walked her way toward her husband's private office. Cyril followed right behind as she opened the door with ferocity, seeing his back facing her way.

“What the fuck is the matter with you, Alfie? Have you gone out of your mind coming back home with that temperament?” Freya questioned, closing the door behind her and crossing her arms in front of her chest glaring her eyes directed at him.

“So fuckin’ what, eh? I can act whatever way I want, yea, you won’ understand the amount of shit I went through today,” he said, forwarding himself on his knuckles on top of his desk, letting out a big frustrated sigh.

Freya let out a slow sigh trying her best to steady her breathing, wanting to try and communicate with her loving husband. She felt her body relax until she talked to Alfie once again.

“Alfie, talk to me, you know you can always tell me what is wrong,” Freya said, placing a gentle hand on top of his left shoulder but he shoved her hand away from him startling her with fright.

“Why would you fuckin’ care about what happened to me at the job today, it's business that you won’t understand. And now you here telling me ‘what is wrong,’ like if talkin’ will make me feel better,” he said giving a menacing look at his wife, Freya felt chills forming through her body appalled by how Alfie was raising his voice at her.

“Are you listening to yourself, Alfie?” Freya now had her voice raised while her hands turned into tight fists as she continued on speaking, “What is the matter with you, how dare you're raising your voice at me when it isn’t my fault you had a terrible day at work. And you're standing here taking your anger out on me. Who by the way is your wife? Who wants to try and understand what the hell caused you to act like this.”

“Do me a favor, my dear yea? Why don’ you just leave me alone and shut your goddamn mouth and instead you can fuck off from my site yea! You're makin’ my damn head hurt more just by looking at your face,” he said breathing heavily in and out from his nostrils, Freya stayed silent feeling as though a sharp knife stabbed through her heart.

Not wanting to stay any longer Freya angrily walked out of Alfie’s private office, shutting the brown door with a loud bang. She leaned her back against the wooden door placing her hands over her eyes and letting out a small quiet whimper. She felt tears forming through her dark hazel eyes, inhaling a long breath of air as she walked her way through the small hallway. She grabbed a long black scarf from the coat hanger and wrapped the material around her shoulders. Freya made her way out of her house without a care in the world, as some thunder was heard in the far distance. Indicating that a storm was coming in but that didn’t stop her from walking her way to who knows where. Back inside the house, Alfie took out a bottle of whiskey from a side drawer of his desk. Before opening the cap, he stared at the bottle for a moment until he saw Freya’s face.

Realizing what he did and said to her was incredibly wrong and inside his soul, he was regretting it ever so much. Grabbing the whiskey bottle with his right hand he frustratingly threw it across the room, making a big splatter spot on the wall. Along with the pieces of glass shattered throughout the floor as he let himself fall on top of his armchair. Tilting his head back looking up at nothing else but the ceiling, exhaling a long sigh while he had his eyes closed.

What the fuck did I just do… I’m such a fuckin’ idiot…

Alfie walked his way out of his office room, walking through the hallway towards the stairs that led up to the second floor. Cyril walked alongside him making their way up wanting to apologize to her for acting such a dick towards her knowing that his anger got the best of him. Alfie reached the bedroom door and before going inside he softly knocked on it.

“Freya… sweetheart, I’m… forgive me for screaming at you. I… I don’t know what came over me,” Alfie said, letting out a disappointed sigh and placing his right hand on the doorknob making his way slowly inside the room.

But to his shock, she was nowhere to be found inside but only their empty bed and a small table lamp on the other side of the room. Alfie panicked feeling his heart racing out of control, as he walked his way back down the first floor.

“Freya. Freya, where are you?” he called out looking from one room to the other, not finding any trace of her whereabouts.

Alfie started to become more agitated after failing to find her in every part of the house thinking about where she could be or run off to. Alfie caressed his fingers through his short brown locks, letting out another irritated sigh. Wondering where Freya could have gone too and somewhere he and she would know to go when they wanted to clear their heads out. That's when it suddenly hit him where exactly Freya could have gone to.

The old stone bridge… she must have gone there…

Alfie didn't wait another minute to pass by and made his way out of the house, leaving Cyril all alone in the house. Outside the dark chilly night, it started pouring small drops of rain as Alfie walked his way towards the path that leads to the old bridge. Where they met for the first time when they were in their adolescent years. He only hoped and prayed that Freya made it there safely the rain however only continued to come down heavily.

This is all my fault…my own damn fucking guilt…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

14 Years Ago: Somewhere In Camden Town

"Follow the path, Cyril. You know better." A young Alfie told his then puppy.

The pup happily sniffed and walked along the path again, a path he and Alfie took for their afternoon walks for a few months now. It was all very familiar to both boys. Today was no different, or at least, it wasn't supposed to be. Yet, their ears picked up on something.

"Stop." Alfie whispered to his pup who stayed in place in front of him, waiting for his owner to be closer.

Looking around, Alfie couldn't place where the sudden singing was coming from. Not that he minded the joyous and raucous tune, but the path is known to be private, which is why he began walking Cyril here two months ago. Straining his sight again, he finally saw a figure under the old stone bridge.

A young woman, to be exact. She was dancing while singing. Her swaying movements and the unfamiliar tune was like a siren's song to the young man and his puppy. Neither even felt themselves starting to walk in her direction. Their feet simply had minds of their own. Slowly, they approached the young woman who hadn't seen or heard them yet. She was too busy dancing her heart out, the jingling of her many necklaces clinking against each other adding a different beat to the, what Alfie could tell was a, foreign song. He was in a trance as he watched her body move. Nothing provocative, nothing grand. She just seemed so free. Cyril looked up at his owner, wondering why he hadn't said anything yet if he liked seeing the girl dance so much. So, being the curious puppy he was, he happily barked.

The echoing noise immediately had the young woman stopping her movements and her song as she sharply inhaled, clearly startled as she looked towards the direction in which the bark came from.

"No, no, shh." Alfie told his dog as he tried to subdue the embarrassment he began to feel since he had gotten caught staring.

Instead of being able to control his puppy, Cyril barked again, and again, and again. His tail was wagging and his ears stood up halfway as he wondered why the girl wasn't singing or dancing anymore as she kept looking at them. Alfie wasn't sure what to do as he looked up from his dog. His eyes met the young woman's, and he could tell that she was either seconds from running away or she was too scared to move and was hoping they'd leave first. He knew one thing was for certain; neither parties moved from their spots as they simply stared at each other.

He could tell she wasn't from here. He had never seen her in the town, much less under the old bridge that he has been passing under daily for two months. He softly cleared his throat as he gave her a tiny nod, unsure of what to do as she kept looking at them. He wasn't sure if she'd do them both harm, though she didn't seem to be a bad person. Cyril, on the other hand, was still curious about this girl who seemed so free a moment ago and was now hesitant to leave the safety of the shadows of the bridge.

So, Cyril took matters into his own paws and sniffed the trail as he wandered over to where she was standing. He was surprised when Alfie didn't bother stopping him. Looking up at the girl who slowly looked down at him, Cyril barked, wagging his tail to let her know he was friendly. He sensed that she was being cautious, and the pup didn't blame her. He and his owner were strangers to her after all. He sat in place and softly whined, giving her the best puppy eyes that he could muster. Alfie took cautious steps towards the two, stopping just under the beginning of the bridge.

He watched her necklaces clink together as she slowly moved to kneel down in front of the puppy. Cyril immediately climbed into her lap, causing the young woman to seem taken back by the gentle action. The pup nudged one of her hands with his small nose, letting her know it was alright to pet him. Carefully, she very lightly patted his back, now curious about the tiny animal in her lap who seemed happy to see her. So she patted him again, and again, and again. Each time, she grew less afraid, less cautious, and soon, Alfie felt himself smiling as he watched her scratch Cyril on his belly which caused one of the pup's back legs to scratch the air.

He found her smile breathtaking, even if it was directed at his dog and not him.

"I…um, we're sorry for interrupting you." He said, noticing how her eyes were taking all of him in.

It made him feel too warm for his own comfort, but some tiny part of him deep down enjoyed the attention from this beautiful young woman.

She only gave him another smile, seeming confused as to what he was saying. Deciding to try and help the situation, Alfie carefully kneeled down in front of her and his pup, hoping she could tell that they're both friendly and meant her no harm.

"Cyril." He told her, pointing at the puppy.

She tilted her head slightly to the right, still seeming confused.

"Cy-ril." Alfie repeated, only slower this time so she could grasp the name.

She looked at the dog, slowly nodding. Though she didn't say anything, Alfie knew she understood. Suddenly, she was pointing at him, head tilting to the right again.

"I'm Alfie." He said, placing one of his hands on his chest.

Her eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Al-fie. Al-fie." He slowly repeated, being patient with her.

She gave him a slow nod, understanding that he was introducing himself.

"Alfie Solomons. I live here, in Camden. Do…Do you live here?" He asked, only to receive no answer.

They both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"Freya," She softly spoke, copying him and placing one of her hands on her chest,

"Fre-ya." She said with a smile.

"Freya." He repeated the name, liking how it rolled off his tongue.

She happily nodded after he had said it. He stretched out his right hand towards her, watching as she looked at it with curiosity.

"You give me your left hand, and we shake 'em together. That's how you greet someone who you just met." He explained.

Freya still didn't understand, so he gently took her left hand in his right one. Very slowly, he shook hands with her, noticing that she seemed to be paying close attention.

"It's nice to meet you." He said, adding a slight smile for good measure.

He tried to let go of her hand, but she didn't want to let him go. She had never been so patiently dealt with by someone foreign to her. Alfie felt himself blushing as they just awkwardly kept holding hands, wondering why she would choose to keep holding on to him.

"Do you live here?" He asked her again, only to earn another head tilt.

"Um,"

His mind was racing as he thought of ways to gesture at a house or anything that resembled a home. Suddenly, an idea hit him as he spotted a small twig beside his leg. She let go of his hand as his other began picking up the twig. He did the best that he could to draw an outline of a house between them on the sand beneath their legs.

"Home?" He asked, motioning to his simple drawing.

All Freya did was curiously look at him before something visibly clicked within her. She pointed to the twig, and Alfie quickly gave it to her. He was so caught up in looking her over that he hadn't realized what she was doing. That is, until a voice was heard in the far distance.

"Freya!" A man's voice shouted.

Alfie watched as she happily turned around, looking towards where the voice came from. Turning again to face her new friend, she pointed behind her.

"Tata." She said with a smile.

Now it was Alfie's turn to give her a look of confusion, watching as she handed a snoozing Cyril to him before she carefully rose to her feet. He quickly followed, careful to not wake his puppy.

"Freya!" The man's voice shouted again, sounding slightly closer this time.

"Tata." The young woman repeated to Alfie who gave her a slow nod.

Then it clicked.

'Must be her father.' He thought as she gave him another smile.

"Home." She softly added as she tried her best to copy how he had pronounced the singular word, once again pointing in the same direction she had a moment ago.

"Oh, right, yeah. I best be headin' back myself.

"Home?" She asked with a curious expression, her words laced with happiness.

"Yes. My home is that way." He answered with a slight smile, pointing behind him, his thumb gesturing towards the path he and Cyril took.

"Jutro." She said with a look of hope.

Once again, he was confused.

"Jutro?" She asked instead, hoping it would make a difference.

"I…I don't understand." He softly explained, taking a step closer to her.

"Jutro…jutro." She slowly repeated, making a gesture with her hands as she also took a step closer towards him.

Alfie paid close attention, trying to grasp what she meant as he closely watched her hands. Her left hand stayed still as her right one moved back to the front over her left.

"Jutro?" She asked in a whisper.

Then it hit him.

"Tomorrow!" He blurted out, finally understanding.

"Jutro!" She happily hummed out, grateful that he knew what she meant.

"I'll come back tomorrow. Me and Cyril," He pointed to himself and his pup,

"Will meet you," He pointed at her,

"Here." He promised as he pointed between them.

They were both happy that they had reached an agreement, just in time, as her father called out a third time, the voice closer now. She reached towards Cyril, giving his head a loving pat, being careful to not wake him. With a final look to Alfie, Freya slowly waved at him, giving him such a sweet smile before she hurried out from under the old stone bridge. He watched as she soon disappeared into the fog that was covering the far distance of Camden.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Some Time Later

Freya, Alfie, and Cyril were inseparable. Wherever one was, so were the other two. The three spent much time each day under the stone bridge. It was mostly because Freya was scared to leave its safety. She had never dared go past the bridge, and Alfie never forced her. Until one month later when one particular morning Cyril had stepped on a small thorn and Alfie wasn't sure what was wrong with his pup.

"Mate, you're limping." He said in concern as Cyril sat in place.

Squatting down, Alfie carefully looked over his whimpering pup, trying to figure out what the source behind the discomfort was.

"Alfie!" Freya happily called out to him from under the bridge.

Looking towards her, he waved at her since she was waving at him.

"I'll be just a second, alright? Something is wrong with Cyril." He called out to her as worry towards his dog's health began creeping into his head.

Freya quietly watched as Alfie sat on the floor and Cyril didn't climb in his lap. In her eyes, it was all too strange that the puppy would rather sit on the floor than in his owner's lap because Cyril loves being in her and Alfie's laps.

She could hear Alfie talking to Cyril, but all he would get in return were whines and whimpers of discomfort. Worry rose within her, and it was so fast in that moment that she hadn't realized her feet had minds of their own. They quickly walked her out from under the bridge and towards her friends. She sat beside Alfie, who glanced over at her then back to his dog, but then he quickly fully looked over at her.

"Cyril." She said in worry with a small frown.

Carefully, she picked him up, doing some inspecting of her own to see if Alfie possibly missed something when he had done the same just a second ago.

"Freya, you're-"

"Found it." She announced as she very gently laid the dog on her lap.

She spotted a very small thorn wedged between the pads of his left back paw.

"A thorn?" He asked her as she held it up for him to see.

"Yes." She answered before flicking it away from them.

"Better, Cyril?" She asked the pup as she set him on all fours.

He happily wagged his tail before barking, obviously in a much better mood.

"Freya,"

She turned to look at Alfie who wore a surprised expression on his face.

"Yes?" She asks curiously.

"You're out from under the bridge." He told her gently.

She looked behind them, finding he was correct. She had left the safety of the bridge. Yet it didn't feel different now that she was out from under there. She was with Alfie and Cyril, which made everything seem normal.

"Is good?" She hesitantly asked him.

He gently smiled at her, enjoying that she had learned the English language so quickly with his help.

"Do you feel good about being here in the open?" He asked her.

After giving the question some thought, she nodded, giving him a smile in return.

"Then this means I can show ya the shops in the town." He excitedly said, and the thought of seeing all the different stores and products they have to offer caused her to smile again.

That day, while they were in town, he asked her if she would allow him to be her boyfriend. She looked at him in slight shock as she thought of what he had just asked.

"If you don't want to be with me, I understand. It's just…I fancy you so much, Freya. You understand me like no one else does. You're beautiful and kind. Your nature is to heal and comfort. Mine is to destroy and create chaos. But none of that happens when I'm with you."

"Yes." She answered once his words ceased.

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, big smiles began to spread across their lips before she happily hugged him. He hugged her back, holding her tightly as she excitedly giggled into his chest.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

1914: World War I

Two months passed before their lives drastically changed. A war had begun, and by what Alfie told Freya, any and all help was needed.

"They sent me this." He told her, holding up a folded paper.

"What is it?" She hesitantly asked.

He took a good long look at her. He didn't want to tell her. He couldn't. He couldn't bear to see the sadness he knew would be on her face. He didn't want to tell her that he might die far away from home. Yet he forced himself to answer her.

"It's a letter. I've been…"

She stepped closer to him, seeing the worry in his eyes,

"I've been drafted. They need me to go fight. I leave in two weeks."

Silence lingered between them as they looked at each other.

"You can't leave." She whispered as a small frown took over her lips.

"I have to. They'll punish me if I don't." He softly explained.

"But…But what if you don't return?" She asked him.

Tears began to form in her eyes, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her.

"I will. I will return. That much I promise you."

Those two weeks were spent with each other. The young couple felt that they couldn't get enough time together as the day they both dreaded quickly approached. When that morning came, the two closely stayed by each other's sides as they waited for the designated train to pull into the station.

Freya couldn't stop thinking about how to help Alfie feel less nervous. He was holding her hand as if his life depended on it. Then it dawned on her.

She moved to take off one of the many necklaces that hung around her neck. Making sure she had the one she wanted, she moved to stand in front of her boyfriend. He looked at her with curious eyes, wondering what she was doing. He had his answer when she held the necklace towards him. Understanding that she was trying to help, he slightly dipped his head down and felt her carefully slip it over his head. As it rested against his chest, he looked down at it, finding a small coin-sized plate hanging from the chain. The name of his girlfriend was engraved in a fancy font on the face of it.

She had opened her mouth to speak, but the train was coming into the station, blaring its horn in the process. The other men, young and older and who had also received a letter that requested their help in the war, began saying goodbye to their significant others or their families. Slowly, Freya's eyes met Alfie's.

"I promise to come back to you. No matter how far away I am, you'll be here in my heart. That's why you gave me this, right?" He asked as he pointed to the necklace.

"Yes." She answered in a whisper.

The train horn blared again, and even though the recruited men didn't want to, they all began lining up beside the train car to board it. Mothers and wives were crying while waving their sons and husbands off. Looking down at Freya, Alfie tightly embraced her. It was warm and loving, and neither wanted to let go. Reluctantly, he was the first to pull away after a solid minute.

"Don't cry, my love." He whispered as he gently wiped away her tears.

She placed her hands over his own, wanting to feel them in hers one last time until who knew how long. He leaned down, placing his mouth over hers, and she followed along by closing the space between them. The kiss was beautiful; familiar, and slow as they tried to be physically connected for as long as they could. When they couldn't breathe anymore, they pulled away, and after they caught their breaths, she sadly watched as he picked up his bags.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" He spoke softly.

"Anything." She answered quickly.

"Will you please look after Cyril and collect my mail while I'm gone? I don't get much, if any, but I'll write to you every chance I get." He explained.

She gave him a nod as it sank in for both of them that they were not dreaming and would be apart with neither knowing for how long. With an apologetic expression towards her, he began to also join the long line of recruited men.

He was only 15 feet away from her, yet she was already missing his touch. So, she did what any love stricken girlfriend would do.

"Alfie!" She called out.

He was about to fill an empty spot in the line when he quickly turned around. He was met by Freya rushing towards him, and just before he could drop his bags, her arms were around his neck. The force that came with her was so great that he almost lost his balance, but the young men on his right and left sides steadied him. They gave him knowing smiles as they took his bags and held them for him. His arms were wrapping themselves around her waist once his hands were free.

When she looked up at him, they kissed again, the action done in haste as the train horn was heard again. When they pulled away, Alfie rested his forehead against hers.

"I love you." He told her with such seriousness that she couldn't help but smile.

"I love you, too." She responded, and he slowly began to let go of her just like she did to him. The warmth they both felt from the embrace quickly turned cold as the two young men handed Alfie his bags again. Freya smiled sadly at him, earning the same smile from him.

A woman gently pulled her away from the line as it shortened, telling her that it was safer to wait by the waiting area than be too close to the tracks. Freya learned that the woman was a mother and had just said goodbye to her three sons. They both stood together, watching in fear and sadness as the train began to slowly take off. Alfie waved at her, just like the woman's sons did. The four had gotten seats right beside some windows. Freya waved back at him, trying her best to not cry so Alfie wouldn't remember her like that.

From that day, exactly one week passed until she heard from him. She was sitting in the living room of his home. Cyril was lying beside her as they both occupied the longest sofa. As she went through the mail to see if he had written to her, her heart raced when she saw her name on one envelope. She dropped the other few envelopes to the floor and got to opening hers right away. Her eyes were met by her boyfriend's handwriting, and they didn't hesitate to begin reading.

'Freya,

I am missing you. I know it has just been a couple of days, but I cannot wait to see you again. It is hard to be away from you for this war against France. I know that what I am doing is for the good of people, but nothing truly feels good without you. I am hoping to see you again soon. But, until then, know that I love you dearly and that I left my heart with you, my darling.

I love you,

-Alfie

Tears ran down her cheeks as she realized that only a week had passed. How long would it be until they saw each other again? Would he make it back? Would this war turn him into someone she wouldn't recognize when…if…he returned? Looking at Cyril, who was closely watching her, Freya continued to softly cry. The dog became concerned, so he moved his head to be in her lap. As soon as she felt Cyril's weight, she hugged him, crying into his fur as he lowly whined. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Freya. Freya, can you hear me love?” Alfie called out walking through the big green forest both his shoulders and hair drenched in rain.

He has been calling out for his wife for an hour or so hoping that she didn’t go far from where they lived. Beneath his shoes the pathway was muddy in some spots trying his best to not slip. Some paces later Alfie saw a black smokey cloud in the distance. At first he thought it would be Freya’s family that were set at camp but as he made his way towards the cloud. It turned out to be the old stone bridge where he and Freya would mostly spend time together and where they first met all those years ago. It’s like he could remember it like it was yesterday.

How time flies so fast…

Seeing the smoke coming from underneath he carefully made his way down a steep path. Once making it down Alfie embraced the site of the old bridge placing a hand against its few stones. Remembering the old days of both him and Freya’s life when they would meet each other secretly. Until Freya’s father found out about their meetups one day and it caused both of them to not see or speak to each other for weeks. But eventually Freya told her father that Alfie was nothing but a gentleman and a marvelous boy towards her. Knowing that Alfie wasn’t never the type of man to lay a hand on her for any reason. Her father at first didn’t believe in her daughter for a while but eventually when one day Alfie without feeling afraid. Went to visit her home and talked with her family hoping that they will see a different perspective and let Freya be his friend.

“If you ever do anything that will harm my lovely daughter you stay away from us and never come back. Is that understood boy?” Said Harald Freya’s father pointing a sharp finger at the young boy which in reply a nod in agreement.

And after that discussion Freya was free to see and speak with Alfie which she was relieved that her father finally let her see her friend. It was as if that event just happened yesterday how he wished to relive that moment one more time.

Alfie then made his way towards the large opening of the bridge where he found Freya sitting on the wet cold ground. Hugging her legs together while she stared at the small campfire she made not too long ago. Her long dark brown hair was wet from the rain as well as her clothes. It didn’t bother her since she is after all a gypsy who has traveled to many places. And the rain was one of her favorite weathers feeling like she is at peace for the most part. Freya didn’t notice his presence until Alfie sat next to her. She scooted a bit to the side still feeling upset towards him not forgetting what he told her earlier. Alfie noticed this not wanting to push her buttons anymore knowing he has caused so much tonight. The crackling sound of the wood against the fire continued and Freya and Alfie didn't say much for a moment. While the sound of faint thunder was heard far towards the distance as the drops of water continued to gently pour down. Alfie wanted to say something at first but he didn’t feel brave to say anything yet. Freya tightens her long black scarf around her shoulders, feeling the cool wind feeling shivers running through her body. Noticing this Alfie without exchanging any words removed his long black coat from himself. He gently placed the warm material over Freya making her flinch but yet welcomed it. She looked him in the eyes giving off a small faint smile nodding her head in “thank you.” Alfie returned the gesture they both didn’t say much again. As some time has passed for too long Alfie finally surprising himself at the words he said next.

“I’m sorry,” is all that he could say looking forward to the fireplace.

When Freya heard him say those two words she looked at him with a confused look. Not believing in what he just heard him say.

“What did you say?” She then said wanting to make sure she heard him correctly.

Before he said anything he sat straight while clearing his throat. He turned to see his wife having to repeat himself again. Inhaling a small breath he heard himself again saying those two words he mostly never says until now.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you back at home my love. My frustration and stubbornness got the best of me and I never meant to say those things to you either. Work has been a pain in the ass these past couple of days and today was the worst of them all,” he says, lowering his eyes looking at his hands biting his lips together as he went on, “once those words came out of me mouth I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. Looking at your eyes I saw how hurt you felt and I wanted to just kill myself then and there for what I have said to the love of my life. I just…just.”

Freya could see the tears forming against his blue eyes knowing that he meant every word that he was saying to her. Seeing and hearing the guilt in his eyes and voice wishing he could take back what he didn’t mean to say. She also felt her eyes filling with tears as one teardrop stream down the corner of her right eye gently wiping it away with the back of her right hand. No words were exchanged Freya tightly hugged Alfie around his neck almost making him tilt to the side. But they both steadied themselves; she then felt his arms wrapping around her embracing in each other's arms.

“I know you didn’t mean those words my love, but that doesn’t make me stop loving you no matter what. I love you so much my Alfie, like you don’t imagine,” she said leaning back to look him in the eyes, placing her right hand against his left cheek as their foreheads touch each other.

“I promise you at this very moment that I’ll not let my emotions get to me very easily. Because I never want to see my flower look sad and hurt ever again. And I love you too my Freya like you don’t know either,” he said back, placing a small light kiss on top of her forehead.

“I hope you know I’m not one of your workers who will tolerate your screaming and shouting, Alfie. I'm your wife." Freya reminds her husband placing both her hands on each side of his cheeks.

Alfie nods immediately. "I know, sweetheart.”

"Don't you ever do this to me again, yes?” Freya says, sounding not too angry anymore with a more relaxed smile.

He gives her a small smile while nodding again. "I wouldn't dream of it." He says as he gets closer to her.

She can't stay mad at him forever, so she also gets closer to him. He leans down to kiss her, and when their lips touch, it all comes flooding back to him. The very first moment they shared their love for each other.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

She could only imagine the beautiful bodies of other young women he had seen before she had ever met him. How could she compare? Surely they were much more beautiful than she. Every scar she had ever earned, from quick evacuations with her family when they encountered danger throughout their travels, were on display. They were like directions to every imperfection she had. Yet there she stood in front of the edge of his bed, bare. He stood before her, wearing only boxers. His bright blue-green eyes drank in every centimeter of her skin before they looked deep into her eyes.

"Freya,"

The way her name gently left his mouth made her heavily blush. All she could hear in his words was love. The emotion was very clear, and it gave her some relief, but not enough to wash her nerves away entirely.

“You’re absolutely stunning; a vision, a work of art.” He spoke, genuinely meaning every word.

He slowly closed the space between them, his eyes staying on her face the whole time as he walked a few steps towards her. She suddenly held her breath. She didn’t want to tell him that this was her first time having sex.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

He could see there was some concern written on her face, and it only grew the more he looked at her.

“Alife, I…”

He patiently waited for her to say what she needed,

“I’ve never had sex.”

His face grew pink at her confession.

“We don’t have to do anythin’, love. I would hate to make you uncomfortable.”

“I want to.” She quickly assured him.

Silence took over between them as they stared at each other.

“Neither have I.” He confessed.

“What?” She asked softly.

“I’ve also never had sex.” He clarifies.

“Do you still want to…with me?” She asked with hesitance.

“It would be an honor to have you be my first, my darling.” He answered.

She smiled up at him as her body relaxed a bit more. Slowly, she reached towards him, lightly placing her hands on his bare chest. It showed scars, all of them proof of his time away from home and fighting against enemies. A small smile crossed his lips as he placed his right hand at the back of her neck. His left hand made itself at home at her lower back. Before she knew it, he gently laid her down on his bed, helping her get more comfortable before he was hovering over her. His body was flush against hers but he made sure to keep his weight off her.

“I’ll look after you, my love.” The promise was said in a gentle voice, and it caused the rest of her nervousness to fade away.

Slowly, he dipped his head down and his lips began to pay special attention to the crook of her neck, leaving gentle kisses along one side. A sharp inhale had him straightening up. His eyes met hers, only to receive a nod.

“I’m alright.” She whispered as a blush appeared.

“I will not hurt you.” He spoke once he realized that she had been enjoying herself.

Her focus on the soft pressure of his lips against the skin of her neck was broken when an entirely new sensation caught her by surprise. His right hand had begun to slowly trail up the inside of her leg. It traveled up slowly, leaving goosebumps behind as it rested on her hip. Lifting his head once again, his eyes were glued to her. He needed to make sure she was okay with what he was doing. The look of sheer lust in his girlfriend’s eyes was enough to send a blush erupting through his cheeks. He never removed his gaze from her face as his hands met at her underbust.

“May I?” He asks, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

“Please.” She answered, arching her back off of the bed.

He wasn’t sure if it had been the way she sweetly exhaled his name or if the sight of her so eager to be felt by him caused confidence to surge through him, but he was grateful that she trusted him so much. Slowly, his hands made their way up her sides, stopping on either side of her breasts. Very gently, he cupped them at the same time, earning a satisfied hum from her.

“You’re warm.” She spoke, causing a chuckle to leave his mouth.

“That’s one of the reasons you’re with me, innit?” He asked, watching a smile form on her lips.

“One of many.” She answered, closing her eyes as his large, calloused hands began to completely cover her breasts.

It was a nice contrast of rough against smooth. She enjoyed the way his hands held her so perfectly as his lips began kissing down her chest. They moved to kiss her left breast, then her right, and each kiss felt better than the last. He loved the way her back arched into him; it told him that he was doing a good job so far, and he wanted to keep that up. His index and thumb fingers found her nipples, and he gently began rolling them between his fingers at the same time.

“Oh!” She moaned out.

Her hands reached out to grab his arms, but by no means was she trying to get him to stop. Instead, she pulled him closer, and her fingers threaded his hair. She could feel immense heat between her legs, knowing that as much as she wanted to take it slow, she wasn’t going to last much longer. Her eagerness aroused him so much that his erect cock was throbbing in his boxers. Yet, he didn’t want to rush anything, for her sake. The last thing he wanted was to wind up hurting her unintentionally. His lips continued their kisses along her chest, leaving light love bites here and there, before they trailed kisses up to her neck. One of his hands left one of her breasts to gently glide down her stomach and stopped just above the place she needed his touch the most. She moaned into his mouth, hoping to convey her feeling of arousal to him enough for him to be bold enough to touch her.

“Alfie, please.” She whimpered after they pulled away.

“You’re sure?” He hesitantly asked.

“Very sure. I need you.”

“Say less, my darling.” He hummed out.

He never removed his gaze from her face, his eyes boring into hers as his hands continued to move down her body while his mouth kissed every inch of her skin that was available. Finally, his fingers rested at her core, and the heat radiating from it was enough to make him groan in approval. Very slowly, his fingers circled her clit, and the look of pure relief flooded her face just as her head tilted back. Her back arched off of the bed and her hands found his hair to grab hold of.

“Alfie…”

The way she moaned his name had him circling her clit a little faster, wanting to see if the same blissful look would cross her face again. It did, and it made him so happy to see her enjoying his touch. His hands had done unspeakable things during the war, but none of that was important in that moment. Very slowly, he slid his finger inside of her, the accumulation of her arousal having made it an easy entrance. He slowly groaned as he felt her walls take his finger deeper, tightening around it while he gently moved it around inside of her.

“You alright, love?” He asked, earning a moan in response.

“More.” She breathlessly answered.

“You’re sure?” He asked, slowing his movements.

He stood up with his finger still inside of her, but he froze in place when she gave him a look of pure need.

“I want you to make me yours.” She answered with such a seriousness that had his heart fluttering in his chest.

“You're…sure?” He asked again as he hovered over her.

“Yes.” She answered.

His free hand made its way behind her head, lifting it enough so their mouth could meet for a loving kiss. He removed his finger from her aching walls and that hand swiftly slid down his boxers. No longer was there a barrier between them, and while it made her nervous, she found herself excited to finally be one with her boyfriend. He adjusted himself between her legs, gently parting them even more. When she caught a glimpse of his erection, heat flooded her face. It looked much too big to fit inside of her.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, having seen the way her eyes went a bit wide.

“No.” She quickly answered.

“Make me yours.”

Slowly, he brushed his cock along her soaking wet lips, causing them to slightly part. Then, very gently, he began pushing himself inside of her. Their groans harmonized for a few seconds as he stayed put for a few moments, allowing her to adjust to him. Everything felt so warm and so right when their lips connected once again.

“You feel amazing.” He heavily sighed, the sound sending pleasant shivers up her spine.

Her walls clenched around him each time he moved, the motion carefully done before he drove himself deeper. He held her body close against his, hoping to ease any pain that she felt. They lasted several minutes in that same position before her legs were wrapping around his waist. Their eyes met, and he could tell that she wanted more. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. The speed of his thrusting increased, and it wasn’t long until both of them were moaning messes. She didn’t even have time to process the entirety of what was happening to her before she felt an all too strong sensation flood her body that caused her senses to be at a standstill. He stopped moving, wanting to make sure she was alright as her high ended a moment later. He peppered her face with gentle kisses before his lips were covering hers.

“Freya, I…I’m close.” He warned her when he felt her walls fluttering around him.

She tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, preparing herself for what was to happen. He was about to move away from her to pull out, but she was quick to stop him by his shoulders.

“Fill me.”

A look of shock covered his facial features when he realized she was being serious.

“Please.” She begged, and the whine alone was enough for him to give in.

Hugging her to himself once again, he thrusted into her a few more times before he was groaning into one side of her neck. She softly moaned at feeling his hot cum filling her. He stayed inside of her for another minute before very carefully pulling out. He was quick to lay beside her, wrapping her up in his arms as she curled into his body. He reached for his discarded shirt, draping it over her as they both caught their breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked, being the first to break the comfortable silence that filled his bedroom.

“Yes. Are you?” She softly asked in return.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

He looked down at her and gave her a small smile.

“Love, I should be the one thankin’ you for trustin’ me so much.”

She smiled at his words as he kissed her head.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Epilogue: 5 years Later

“Where are those two rascals off too again?” Freya said to herself looking around from one room to another.

It has been a while since they moved out from Camden Town where Alfie was lucky enough to inherit a house near the beach. Margate was the name and it has been treating them fairly well where there was nothing else but a wonderful view of the sea and most of all quietness. But that wasn’t the only thing that brought the couple closer together.

The sound of a small giggle was heard somewhere beyond the hallways which Freya knew exactly who it belonged to.

“Alright now come out, come out wherever you all are,” called our Freya quietly tiptoeing her way towards where the chuckles were coming from.

After Alfie and Freya got married some 3 years ago they afterwards welcomed their first child. It was such a blessing for the married couple that Alfie thought it was all a dream. Ellie was the baby girl's name, brown eyes like her mothers with a mix of stubbornness just like her father. It was a day to remember when they heard their baby’s first breath. Ever since that day Alfie was determined to be by his wife’s side, not caring if the distillery could continue without him. What mattered to him the most was his wife and daughter helping Freya out whenever she needed some time away from the baby. One late night however when Ellie was crying for hours Alfie took the baby in his arms while rocking against a wooden chair. He started to sing a lullaby to her in his mothers tongue which surprisingly made the little creature feel at ease. He also didn’t notice that her tiny hand was tightly holding onto his right index finger. He then smiled as he placed a gentle kiss against Ellie’s soft hair.

“I love you my little Ellie always and forever.”

Freya continued to quietly make her way to the small giggles that she could still hear. Knowing that she is already near them wanting to scare them in surprise.

“Shhh… be quiet mama is going to hear us,” said little Ellie to someone else.

A couple of months later after the birth of Ellie, Alfie and Freya then welcomed their second child. It was Alfie that encouraged Freya to have another baby which she didn’t hesitate to say no to him. Nehemiah was the boy's name that was given to him. Just like his father he wasn’t afraid of anything, always liking to get into some sort of trouble taking no for an answer but always obeyed his father whenever he would go one step far. But he would also have his moments whenever he felt like he needed to talk with his mother. Trying to also find his calmer side of himself and getting as much advice from his mother.

“Whenever you feel angry or lost, always remember that I am here for you my love. And so is your father but just know that you're never alone my little one.”

“Oh you also be quiet Ellie I’m sure by now mama will hear us,” Nehemiah said playfully, nudging onto his sisters right arm not noticing their mothers presence.

“FOUND YOU BOTH!” Surprised Freya, making the two children scream from fright.

Both children got on their feet quickly running away from their mother which she wasn’t too far behind. She scooped Nehemiah off from the wooden floor yelping and laughing while Freya hugged him tightly around her arms. She then placed a couple of kisses on the little boy's cheeks while feeling Ellie hug her mothers legs.

“Haha mama let Nehemiah go, how did you know we were here?” The little girl questioned, still holding onto her mothers leg.

“You both were giggling and that led me to finding your hiding place. But enough of playing around you two how about we get the table ready for dinner before papa comes home. How does that sound, my darlings?” She said kneeling in front of her two beautiful children while they nodded their head in “yes.”

Some time later it was already dark outside as the cool breeze blew ever so gently while Freya and her two children waited patiently for Alfie’s return in the living room. The crackling sound of the fireplace was heard in the background while Cyril lay down beside Ellie and Nehemiah while the children played with their toys. Freya was sitting on top of one of the couches while looking at the clock, seeing that it had passed the time Alfie should be home by now. Quietly tapping her right foot against the carpet floor the trio then heard the front door open. Indicating that they had finally returned home as Nehemiah and Ellie then ran their way out of the living room to greet their father.

“Papa papa,” said both children in unison as Alfie opened his arms wide out to them while kneeling down.

They all huddled down to the floor making both children giggle at their action.

“How are my two lovely children doin’ eh? I miss you all very, very much,” Alfie said as he gently stood up off the floor while Cyril nuzzled his wet nose against his owner's face.

“I also miss you as well you big mutt.”

“Ummm excuse me where is my welcoming kiss? I hope you don’t forget about me Mr. Solomon’s,” Freya said, placing her hands on top of her hips but gave a cheeky smile.

“Hehe why would I not forget my lovely beautiful wife that always brightens my heart whenever I see her hmm?” He said getting up on his feet while Freya smiled and giggled as they both exchanged a kiss on the lips.

“Ewwww, gross,” said Ellie, making a disgusted face which Freya found funny.

Once the happy family settled down for dinner the night went on perfectly. As everyone feasted, Alfie and Freya held hands together as they memorized their beautiful little family. Not believing that they have come this far not expecting to have children this quickly. Alfie always thought he would only focus on himself growing his empire until his passing. But when he found Freya all those years ago as a child and saw how they both fell in love with each other. Suddenly all those ideas faded away seeing the perfect future already blooming in front of him. As dinner was ending both Ellie and Nehemiah started to grow sleepy while they all sat in the living room together. Alfie took Ellie in his arms gently taking her up stairs to her bedroom. Freya following close behind held Nehemiah in her arms while the child tried his best to stay awake.

“Mama I’m not tired yet really,” protested the little boy but Freya wasn’t having it.

“Now my dear don’t be that way, it is late and you need your rest. And we’re going to the beach and if you don’t get your sleep you’ll be tired the next day. Now be a good boy and rest your eyes now, yes?” She said as she opened the door to the boys room as he placed him down on the soft bed.

“Really mama, do you mean it? Oh I can’t wait to go now alright I’ll head to bed now,” cheerfully says Nehemiah as he gets himself under the bed sheets making Freya chuckle at this.

“Very well my little Nehemiah i will see you in the morning my love. Goodnight my sweet boy,” she said, placing a gentle kiss on top of the boy's head caressing his left cheek in between.

Once Freya quietly closed the door behind her Alfie was already out of Ellie’s room. They both smiled at each other Alfie held out his hand towards his lovely wife. Freya walked up to him placing her hand on top of his making their way towards their bedroom. Once inside Alfie gently shut the door behind him and without losing another moment he embraced Freya around his arms. They both looked deep into their eyes as their foreheads touched against each other.

“How is my lovely Queen Solomon’s feeling hm?” He asked, feeling her arms hugging around his neck while she let out a small giggle.

“Wonderful as always you know I always still question to this day. How did I get very lucky to have you in my life Alfie? Why me and nobody else?” She questioned him wanting to hear those same words over and over again.

“Hehe do you really want me to repeat the same thing over and over again? How many times do I have to tell you my love? Because if I never met you in my life I wouldn’t have known such a wonderful spirit free and goddess like you. And that I am grateful and blessed to say that you're my one and only woman. I wouldn’t want no one else but you my dear,” he said while gently placing Freya down against the bed hovering above her, taking in her thin lips between his.

Embracing each other in their arms they both laid there nakedly while Freya could hear her husband's heartbeat against her right ear. A small smile was spread throughout her face wanting to be like this forever. And all the while without Alfie not knowing Freya is expecting another blessing that was growing inside her womb.

I love you always and forever Alfie Solomons… until the ends of the earth…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

83 notes · View notes

interstellargatorskinboots1812 · 1 year

Text

Chapter 13: The Rush of Blood

Alfie feels sweat trickling down his back, his eyes lacerate into the interloper in front of him, who dirties and taints the elegant hall as if by osmosis.

Michael McCleary. To Arabella, just a name scrawled in Tommy’s handwriting, but now here he stands, a short and stout man with filth escaping his every pore.

‘You’ve been ignoring my calls and letters, Solomons.’

His Scouse twang echoes strongly in the affluent surroundings.

‘Yeh well there’s a very good reason for that, ain’t there?’

Alfie’s stiff shoulders and heavy-set back, wrap an unwelcome presage around Arabella, as if confirming Tommy’s suspicions that the High Rip gang have prior dealings with her fiance.

Swiping a cocktail from a reluctant waiter, Michael smirks and downs the alcohol. He bites aggressively, with what few teeth he has left, into the cherry that decorates his glass.

‘I don’t like being ignored you see. It gets me all angsty.’

He putters the cherry stem.

‘Maybe I need to get me a good looking tart like yours? Bet she helps relieve the tension at night, doesn’t she?’

With a filthy leer, Michael flicks the tied stem down Arabella’s cleavage. Reacting almost before Alfie has the chance to form a fist, she pulls back his hand.

‘Stop, think where you are and who is around you. It’s just what this fucker wants. Don’t play into his hands.’

Alfie grunts a response, the blood bouncing in his veins in abundance.

‘She speaks a lot of sense, you should listen to her’.

‘She has a name, you know’.

Michael’s laugh fills the darkening space.

‘Oh I know your name, Ms Arabella Shelby. I know all about you and your family. Modern day Romeo and Juliet, you two are. Star-crossed lovers from opposite ends of the trotting tracks.. . and well . . . we all know how that tale ends’.

With a calming composure, Alfie’s bulky shadow casts shade over the Liverpudlian’s pockmarked face.

‘You might be better served expressing your profound views on literature to someone who gives a fuck, mate. You waltz in here thinking you’re a brave lad, when we all know that the only reason you are still stood vertically, thieving my oxygen is because I am choosing not to put a bullet in that thick skull of yours. Now tell me what you’re ‘ere for and then you can fuck off or I will stick my boot so far up your arse that you’ll fly back to Liverpool and hit the Mersey with a breathless sense of having tumbled like Icarus from the sky’.

Michael’s delusive grin cultivates his face, Alfie’s resolute words land beside him like a grenade with the pin still attached. The malodour of old garbage fires thrives from their unwelcome guest and as foul in her nostrils as it is, Arabella inhales deeply in an effort to slow her breathing.

Michael’s drawing quite the crowd.

‘Alfie is right, make your point and then fuck off’.

‘Bad words from such a beautiful broad- be careful none of these toff-nosed Jews hear it. You wouldn’t want to give the game away.’

Alfie’s eyes slice like the ambiguity in Michael’s rhetoric.

‘Oh don’t worry Solomons, your secrets and skeletons are safe with me. . . for now anyway’.

The twine possessing Alfie’s composure splinters and with a constricting grab of an upper arm, he whips Michael away from prying eyes, with Arabella’s plea of his name falling on death ears and Rubin hot on their tail.

At the main entrance a huddle of elderly Jewish women’s discussion on knitting patterns is firmly interrupted by a grapple they look shocked to be witnessing.

‘Now, don’t you worry about this ladies, I’m just taking out the rubbish’.

Alfie’s tone is jovial, but Arabella can see every vein in his body is amplifying to cardinal proportions.

Taking a sharp right, he hurls them into a deserted back alley, before ricochetting Michael’s back off the cold and damp bricks, making Arabella wince and Michael bellow breathlessly.

Years of fighting and taking back meant dealing with dregs like McCleary was almost autonomous. Despite his incensed demeanour, his brain remains utterly calm, firing off a lightening series of automated responses. A continuous of experience distilled into substance.

A multitude of action happens simultaneously and all before anyone has time to anticipate.

Arabella isn’t sure where he pulled it from, but Alfie is now pivoted firmly in front of Michael, a Webley Mark revolver held unwaveringly on his trigger finger.

‘My boy, no!’ Rubin clamours out as Arabella surges to the end of the alley surveying the surroundings.

‘Shit!’

Her panicked expletive reaches the ears of a well-to-do couple dressed in all their finery. Casting her a scandalised look, the lady tuts an ‘oh really’ under her expensive furs.

Arabella swallows her bottom lip. There is no way a gunshot is to go unnoticed and uninvestigated in these surroundings. She makes a dash back to Alfie, tugging at his arm once again.

‘Alfie, Alfie. . .Alfie, put the gun down’.

His eyes pirouette with torment, his fiance's pleas sequestering to the background. He gently bats away her arm.

‘Sweetie, you might want to stand well back for this one, because when I drop this bullet from it’s resting place the blood and matter that will ascend this little cunt to the heavens will deflect itself all over this pigsty. Now green and red just don’t go together and I’d hate for that dress to be ruined.’

‘Alfie, you need to stop. If anyone hears that thing go off and calls the police . . . he’s not worth that’.

‘My dear boy, Ms Shelby is right, put away that weapon. A man like this is not laudable for the ammunition’.

Ignoring Rubin entirely, Alfie addresses Arabella without ever leaving his attention from the snivelling creature caught firmly in his cross-hairs.

‘Treacle, since my resurrected partnership with your brother, I have no need to worry about the old cop shop. It’s all justifiable housekeeping.’

Arabella glances across to Rubin. Beads of sweat interspersing his forehead catch the oppressive luminosity of the gas light.

Alfie lurches forward pushing the weapon straight into Michael's windpipe with force.

‘Now McCleary, don’t ever think you can come into my world, and take an upper-hand. That ain’t ever gunna happen is it? Did you think I’d let you get away with it, what you thought you’d sensed a weakness in the Israelite?’

‘No need for senses when there’s certainty’. Michael splutters through the cold constriction of gun metal. Alfie’s eyebrows shoot up, the lines in his forehead increasing with magnitude.

Driven by instinct, he pushes the barrel of the gun under Michael’s chin as his eyes twitch at his adversary’s cool composure and audacious words His heart races but his mind is icy.

‘Talk to me about this certainty of yours’. The clicking of his gun cocking into place and his detached tone sounds almost deafening to Arabella in this confined space.

‘Alfie stop! He’s winding you up!’ Her voice going an octave higher.

‘Your uncle, Charles Solomons. He’s an interesting fellow isn’t he? Or at least he has some very interesting cargo that comes through Liverpool docks’.

Arabella hears the gasp Rubin drops at the name Charles Solomons. Alfie’s eyebrows lower and pull even further together as his lip curls.

‘You see Alfie, you might have a hand at what goes through Camden Lock and thanks to this new allegiance with Lady Muck there, you have a finger in the pie at Poplar, but Liverpool and the Albert Dock? They’re mine. I control them and with no foot hold there for either of your little gangs, I have a lot of leverage in way of your Uncle Charlie’s cargo from Boston.’

Alfie catatonic eyes continue staring at Michael, looking straight through him.

‘Charles Solomons’ business has nothing to do with me!’

Spittle flies from his mouth along with his indignant rumble of words.

‘Funny that because his business of bootlegging, narcotics and the like has certainly bank rolled a lot of your warehouses and labour. How do you think he’d feel knowing his own nephew had a hand in the fallout of his empire eh? Because between me and my lads, we could make it very difficult for his goods to make their destination points’.

The barrel of Alfie’s gun collides with Michel’s cheekbone, splitting the skin wide open. Michael grabs the wound with his hand shouting a series of expletives.

‘Lets say I shoot you right here, right now. In the fucking face. I’d be doing everyone a fucking favour then wouldn’t I? Including my Uncle Charlie.’

‘You can kill me now, but it wouldn’t make a difference. There’s not just me in on this’.

Alfie swallows, the saliva bounding down his throat like poison. How did this fucker, this scruffy backstreet gang member know so much of his business? Alfie didn’t want this fight but it has come looking for him and battle it, he will. His finger tightens on the trigger, snatching at it. But by now, galvanised by the chaos, Arabella steps into the fold.

Alfie turns his head sharply at her, but she doesn’t react. In that second panic sets in. He didn’t panic ever. Panicking got you killed. A straightforward equilibrium. But, just like panic, distraction gets you killed and when he sees her step into the combat zone, his focus goes to keeping her safe. Already, she is becoming detrimental.

Unfazed by the weapon and the weight of the situation, Arabella looks Michael up and down, her eyes set to a primitive gaze.

‘So, that’s your leverage is it?’

‘Arabella, go the fuck back inside!’

Rubin wrings his hands behind them.

‘Ms Shelby, perhaps Alfie is right and you should. .’ Rubin’s attempts to mediate are cut off by Alfie’s growl.

‘Fuck off Bella, Now!’

‘I’m going nowhere! I want to know what Mr McCleary is using Charles Solomons as a bargaining chip for?’

Nursing his bleeding cheek, Michael winks at Arabella salaciously.

‘I mean, you ask all the right questions don’t you babe? If she’s half as good at emptying your balls, Solomons then she’s too worthy for you.’

Alfie’s anger hits crescendo and just as the adrenaline spikes to manipulate his limbs, he feels the soft skin of Arabella’s hand entwine with his around the gun. With a firm grip she pulls the focus of the barrel between McCleary’s legs.

‘I’ve got more than one method for draining balls, now get the fuck out with what it is you want’.

‘Alright sweetheart, as it’s you. You see, us up North we haven’t got it as good as you bastards down here. You Southern ponces have it perfect, business must be booming with everyone’s love for trotting spectacles’.

Arabella rolls her eyes.

‘Fuck sake, you men and your fucking horses! All this is about the tracks!?’

‘The tracks that have got you were you are standing now, love. Well, me any my lads are feeling a bit left out and we reckon it’s about time you did some sharing’.

Alfie pouts at the fanciful fucker in front of him. That thick-lipped mouth of his on display, that Arabella notes makes him look amenable and cordial, hiding the steel that lays beneath the easy smiles.

‘Carry on down the road to Little Italy and you can discuss all this with Darby Sabini -we hear he is in need of allies at the moment’.

Michael grins wide, oozing more blood from the gash to his face. He likes her, shame really when he considers his end game.

‘Oh no Miss Shelby, I’m not in this to share or be a worker bee for any Italian mob cunt. We want space and pitches and with those we will agree to a truce at the Liverpool docks and no more trouble with the cargo of a Mr C Solomons as well as a new trade network at my end.’

‘Fuck your truce! I don’t do fucking truces mate! Don’t think for a single second of your measly, miserable existence that I would work with a cunt like you. You, yeh, are the lowest and most de sanctified piece of scum and I don’t do deals with men willing to kill the rats that live among them by biting them’.

Either McCleary was mentally deficient or he has more up his sleeve that he can pull out when he wants. Arabella was yet to decide which.

‘Look, how many good-natured businessmen have you lot bullied, hounded and baited for pitches? That’s how it works. Now don’t come the incensed with me when the same thing happens to you’.

Alfie works his way closer into Michael’s space, the gun pushing further into McCleary’s gut with each step.

‘Now, I’ve been very patient of you, considering the circumstances but now your just getting on my last fucking nerve. You come ‘ere to seek me out, you know the road, you know I offer a deal or death. Un-fuckin-fortunately for you mate it’s no deal’.

The sound of a cocking gun fills the expanse around them. Alfie’s eyes knit together as his gun was already rearing to go.

A cold chill fills his body.

As quick as a snake he whips his head in Arabella’s direction. A tall and lanky man with a soot covered face and eyes like piss holes in the snow looms behind her. The same revolver as his own sequestering into the parting of her hair.

‘Well, I did tell you I wasn’t in this alone. What’s say we call a truce that you famously don’t do?’

Alfie’s tongue darts out across his lips to add moisture to his acrid mouth.

‘Take that gun from behind her head now or so help me I’ll paint this alleyway with every ounce of your intestines’.

‘Alright, calm yourself will yeh! Take this gun out of my ribcage and I’ll ask me mate here to throw back your princess once we’ve discussed our bookmaking arrangements for Kempton and Earls Park. We can discuss Epsom when . . . ‘

Smug words drown out to the ear piercing shriek of agony, followed by a gunshot.

Alfie can hear the blood swilling around his ears as they ring. A cold sweat like the ones he experienced in France drapes around him.

Rubin, who has ducked down, cowering like a child to avoid the fired bullet, turns to look at the damage inflicted to the brickwork behind him.

Alfie’s eyes search with frantic need. Never has he felt relief like the kind her green scowl is bringing.

Arabella’s provoked patience melded into fury and flashing her hand from inside her cleavage she had retrieved a flick knife.

McCleary’s cadaverous assailant falls back, nursing his eye socket. His muck filled knuckles struggle to contain the cascade of crimson.

Alfie spots a blood stain growing on the young man’s upper arm. One flow of movement from her had caused the damage. Alfie didn’t know if he was turned on, worried or infuriated- the dilemma was nauseating. He quickly pulls her arm a little too roughly, placing her behind his frame, an action that makes Michael sneer.

‘There’s part of that weakness of yours, Solomons. A devil always protects his angel’.

‘You are pushing your fucking luck mate!’

Alfie bellows the last three words as they spark a fire in his eyes like every demon and monster laying dormant inside him is suddenly awakened.

‘She’s fucking blinded me, you stupid fucking bitch!’

‘That is just a scratch. Rest assured that I think before I act so had I wanted to blind you then that eyeball would be on the end of my knife edge.’

‘Yeh and make another sound and both your fuckin eyes will be in my next batch of rum, mate’.

Michael keeps his eyes on Alfie. Watching him warily and attempting to second-guess what his next move will be, irritating Arabella to no end. She points at him with the tip of her knife, dripping with red.

‘Let me explain a few things to you. For one, I am not in anyway some hapless princess that gets what she wants through the strong-arming of her brothers. Secondly, should you wish to know where my brothers get their violent tendencies from, it’s from having to try and fight back at a sister who has always been two steps ahead of them. As for the devil, well, even the devil doesn’t know where an angel sharpens their knives’.

Despite the situation Michael’s countenance lifts into a smile that reaches his eyes. He knows he’s playing a dangerous game with Solomons, but now he understood that this broad is more strife than he has given thought to. The only thing left to do is see everything through and watch who would be the victor.

Alfie transfixes a snarl to Michael’s assailant who is using his flea invested blazer to wipe away the blood. He reaches into his pocket sending all eyes to his actions with cautious worry. Pulling out a white handkerchief, he condescendingly tosses it across.

‘Why don’t you wipe yourself the fuck up and then the pair of you can trot on down to the end of this road and fuck off from where you’ve crawled from?’

‘Alright, we’ve said what we need to say, no need to labour the point’.

Alfie’s shoulders hunch. Going without a fight seems suspicious and he can almost feel the charge coming off Michael as he pushes the still drawn pistol in the bakers hand out of his way to saunter to his mate.

‘This isn’t a finished conversation though, Solomons. Earls Park races start in a fortnight and we want in on the pitches and not the shitty cheaper rings that you Jews have been used to before now. We can discuss another meeting in the coming days. Don’t ignore my telegrams this time- I’d hate to come back for your princess’.

‘And she would hate to come back for this fucker’s other eye’.

Arabella spits out through gritted teeth as Alfie once again finds himself squaring back up to Michael with all the menace of a mad man. A dense darkness spiking in his eyes forcing devilry to dance in his pupils. Arabella watches warily through the silence. Maybe all the schemes of the devil were nothing in comparison to what this man could muster up.

In one swift blow, Alfie’s knuckles collide with Michael’s conspirator. The sound of bones crunching fill the space as the gangling lad plummets to the concrete,. Rubin gasps in shock and turns his head to the side, scrunching his eyes as if it would remove him from the situation.

‘That there yeh, is just for starters. Consider it a warning to both of you that children do not belong in a man’s world. No fucking deal. No fucking meeting. Take your friend and fuck off.’

Alfie steps over the body below him, barging into Michael's shoulder in the process. He holds out his hand to Arabella, which she accepts as they walk off down the narrow space.

‘Before you go anywhere there’s something else you should know’.

Alfie spins around, his expression dripping with malice.

‘What’s that old saying- an eye for an eye? You might want to check on your little right hand man. He got in our way when we were looking for you at that warehouse you use belonging to her brother. Not sure how long it takes to bleed out from a leg wound but he’s already been there quite a while, so I wouldn’t leave it too long.’

Alfie’s brain feels like it’s in overload. They have got to Issiah. He drops Arabella’s hand. With hunching shoulders, he storms back onto the thoroughfare of the street. He needed to get to Issiah and get to him fast. Everything else could wait.

***************************************************************************************

TAG LIST: @theworldisforeverours @hotchlover @bekkarific @jarvisrocks

@fairypitou @azulawayne @quarterpastmidnight @clintbartoris @gameofpot @doomwhathouwilt @lokigirlszendaya @inkinterrupted @misselsbells-blog @soloalfie @hades-dogsitter @buttercupsandboys @sunshineyourethebesttime

Sorry for the super long update delay! I hope there are people still willing to read this labour of love.

Let me know if you would like to be added to the tag-list and as always please comment and reblog!

33 notes · View notes

buttercupsandboys · 2 years

Text

Sunshine & Rainbows — an Alfie Solomons x original character story — Chapter 5

18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

CHAPTER 5: the picture of control

Word count: 2905

TW: language typical of Peaky Blinders, mentions of trauma/abuse, smutty smutty smut :)

We learn more about Livy’s mysterious past, and she asks a few too many questions about Jewish men …

“NO! No, please!” She screams, her small hands pushing desperately against the heavy wooden door.

Alfie bursts into the room, barefoot and shirtless with his gun already drawn. His hair is wildly dishevelled and his eyes are heavy with sleep, but he’s a soldier. The body keeps the score and after four years in the trenches, he acts on instinct alone.

“Please, I’ll be good. I’ll be good!” The door is nearly shut and her voice is frantic as she begs. “I’ll be good…”

His heart is beating madly in his chest as he scans the dark room, searching for threats and half expecting to find a gypsy or wop waiting in the shadows. But there’s nothing out of the ordinary—except for Livy.

She watches in horror as the last trace of light disappears. No, not again. She responds like a caged animal, howling in pain as she claws at the walls closing in around her.

When he left earlier, she’d been tucked in the centre of the bed, looking peaceful and at ease. But now she’s pressed against the headboard, her fingers desperately scraping against the heavy oak as she screams in terror.

It’s so dark. She’s cold and alone, and she knows there will never be anything else but the darkness …

“Livy?” He calls out softly because he doesn’t want to startle her, but she ignores or doesn’t hear him. So he turns on the light and tries again, this time commanding her in a voice he usually reserves for the lads at the bakery. “Livy. Open your eyes now.”

A strong, warm voice echos in the distance, oddly familiar, but it doesn’t belong here. She shivers and presses back against the wall, rough splinters rubbing painfully against her soft skin—when suddenly she sees it; a single ray of sunshine sneaking through a small crack in the door.

Her eyes snap open and she lies there for a moment, feeling confused and disoriented. At first, she can only stare blankly at the ceiling, but as her heart finally slows from a gallop to a trot, she comes down to earth and he comes into focus.

Alfie.

He’s standing next to the bed wearing nothing but low slung trousers and a furrow on his brow. His hair is adorably tousled and she wants to run her fingers through it, to soothe his worries as much as the unkempt strands. Because even with the low light, she can see just how hard he’s working to maintain a calm expression.

They’ve only just met but she knows him—knows he wants to beat the darkness away with his fists, knows he would burn the city to keep her safe, knows he feels fucking helpless right now and just how much he hates it.

She knows all of this because her father was exactly the same. And oh, the irony. Two violent men who’d fight the world to protect her, but this is one battle she has to face on her own. She chuckles under her breath and shakes her head; she doesn’t believe in god, but if she did, she’d say he has a twisted sense of humour.

“Livy?“ Alfie interrupts her thoughts, his gruff voice laced heavy with concern, and she’s quick to reassure him.

“I’m so sorry I woke you, Alfie. Please don’t worry, darling. I’m fine now.” She gives him a warm smile and pats the bed next to her. “Come here.”

He scoffs and gives her a disbelieving look, as he takes in her pale face and the sweaty wisps of scarlet hair stuck to her forehead. “You don’t look ok to me, treacle.”

Her cheeks burn at the comment and she raises a hand in a hasty attempt to tidy her appearance. But Alfie stops her by placing strong, ringed fingers along the side of her face, gently stroking his thumb across the top of her cheekbone. He sits facing her and their eyes meet before he finally breaks the silence.

“You want to talk about what the fuck just happened, love?”

“No.”

“No?” He repeats incredulously, giving her a chance to reconsider.

“No, Alfie.”

She pouts at him, but he just raises an eyebrow in response and she can tell he’s not going to let this go. Bloody man is too damn used to getting what he wants. She doesn’t have it in her to argue right now, so she decides to offer a half-truth and hope for the best.

“Alright, fine, you insufferable man.” She wraps her fingers around his wrist and pushes him away, feeling both amused and annoyed. Then she takes a deep breath, briefly closing her eyes as she pulls herself together. “I have nightmares, Alfie. Always have, since I was young. I’m, um … scared of the dark. It’s embarrassing, I don’t like to talk about it. And it hasn’t been this bad in a long time.”

She doesn’t explain why she’s scared of the dark, but she hopes it’s enough for him because it’s all she can give right now.

He’s weighing up her response, deciding whether to accept it or not. There’s a ‘look’ on his face and it takes her a moment to place it, but then she remembers; it’s the same cold stare he used to intimidate Mr Shelby. Ooh, this man. She’ll make him pay for this, eventually. But for now, she keeps her expression neutral, and apparently, she passes his little test.

Because now he’s the one looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, pet.” He hesitates and even manages to pull off a sheepish expression as he raises a hand and scratches the back of his neck. His naked chest is a beautiful sight like this, and she wonders if he’s trying to distract her on purpose. “I got up for a drink earlier and saw your light was on. I was, erm, worried, yeah? So I came in to check on you and turned off the light.”

“You came in to … check on me?” Her voice drops in tease as she flashes a wolfish smile. Now it’s her turn to raise an eyebrow as she thinks about his schoolboy reaction to their kiss last night.

“Well, yes, of course.” His voice is all serious and businesslike now. “You know the Italians can be right fuckers—“

She bursts into laughter, cutting him off and saving them both from what was likely to be a long-winded explanation.

He looks indignant now, pouting even, which only makes it worse and she nearly rolls off the bed. It takes her a moment to calm down, and she’s wiping tears from her eyes when she finally whispers his name.

“Alfie?”

“Yes, love?”

“The sun will be up soon. Will you open the curtains and wait with me?”

And that’s how the two of them ended up in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, with her gently scratching at his beard and him tracing circles on her back, watching as the first rays of light break over the horizon.

— • — • —

Livy wraps her fingers around the warm mug and sips her tea, eyes dancing as she watches Alfie move confidently around the kitchen.

It’s been four days since she arrived in Camden Town and she hasn’t seen much of him lately. He’s been busy preparing for the arrival of the Peaky Blinders; apparently, a hundred lads from Birmingham are on their way and Alfie’s been working around the clock.

After that first night, when they watched the sunrise together, he’s been gone every morning before she wakes up. But for some reason, he’s here today, looking broad and beautiful in the morning light.

“So … you can cook, Alfie?” She asks not bothering to hide the surprise in her voice.

“I do own a bakery, love.”

She giggles because she knows exactly what kind of bakery he owns, and waits patiently for further explanation. But when it doesn’t come, she waves a hand expectantly.

“C’mon Alfie. You can do better than that, can’t you?”

He places a basket of fresh bread on the table and hands her a plate of softly scrambled eggs, before taking a seat across from her.

“Me mum, yeah? Always in the kitchen, when she wasn’t working.” His eyes are soft and she can tell there are memories just below the surface, but he leaves them for now. “What ‘bout you, pet?”

“Oh, I’m hopeless! My mum was a brilliant cook, but I can barely make toast.”

“Where’s she now? Your mum.”

“Gone, Alfie.” Now it’s Livy's turn to wrestle with the past. She closes her eyes and remembers her, barefoot and wild, smelling like smoke and lavender. “She died of consumption a few months after Daddy. And your mum?

“Same, love.” He reaches out and squeezes her hand, and they share a quiet moment before he casually changes the subject. “So, I hear you and Ruth had a nice time the other day?”

He grins as she chokes on her tea, nearly spitting it across the table.

“Alfie!” She squeals, burying her face in her hands. “Who told you? Ollie?”

“Nah, love. Goliath.”

Livy dissolves into laughter as she thinks about her shopping trip with Ollie’s wife.

She needed a few things because Alfie said it’s not safe to go back to her old flat. He asked Ruth to show her around, but also insisted that his nephew, Goliath, accompany them for security.

Which was fine except Goliath is an exceptionally large man, isn’t he? And Livy thought she could break the ice with her new friend by making a few jokes about him “being in proportion” and having “lethal dimensions”.

But unfortunately, she misjudged the other woman. Poor Ruth was absolutely scandalised, and Livy is pretty sure she won’t be invited for tea any time soon.

“I might have to lock you up in the bakery.” Alfie threatens with a wink. “Can’t have you going round, terrorising all the good Jewish women.”

Livy doesn’t miss a beat. “Just the Jewish men then?” she bites back innocently.

He clenches his jaw in response, and Livy knows she really should behave herself. After all, everyone knows that Alfie Solomons is a dangerous man. But when his eyes flash in warning, she just can’t help but see an invitation.

She stands up and offers a sinful smile, before slowly walking around him. A slender finger traces along the edge of his arm, up the ridge of his shoulder, until she reaches his neck and wraps herself around him, pressing a soft, teasing kiss in the space right below his ear.

The air in the room is suddenly thick, collecting on her spine like the morning dew. But Alfie holds himself perfectly still, the picture of control—so Livy pushes harder.

“Tell me about these Jewish men”, she hums as she slips a hand down the front of his shirt, raking her nails against his bare skin, hot and hard under her palm. “Are all the boys in Camden Town built like this?”

She can feel the coil in his muscles a second before he finally snaps, twisting as he drags her across his lap. His other hand wraps around her jaw, squeezing tight as he growls.

“Are you looking for Jewish cock, love?”

He squeezes again as he waits for an answer, and they’re walking that fine line between pleasure and pain. She can only whimper in response as his grip forces her lips apart. But she’s desperate and needy now, so she opens her mouth wider, practically begging him to fill her.

Alfie responds by shoving a finger in her mouth, then another, and she moans as she sucks hard, grateful to finally have a part of him inside of her.

“That’s a good girl”, he murmurs appreciatively as he pushes her skirt up and over her hips. Moving quickly, he finds the junction of her thighs and rips the flimsy black fabric in one sharp movement, before tossing it aside. She whines at the sound and spreads her legs wider in invitation.

Alfie grunts in acknowledgment, withdrawing from her mouth and taking a moment to admire the wetness coating his thick fingers. Then he parts her milky thighs and slides them deep inside her dripping cunt.

She moans as he curses, dropping his head into the curve of her neck. “You’re so fucking tight, love.” He pants against her skin before marking her with biting kisses.

Everything about this moment is hot, frantic and hard. There are no gentle caresses or loving promises, but it’s exactly what she needs right now—to feel fucking alive.

It’s what Livy always wants, more than anything else, and it’s why she can’t keep her hands off Alfie. She’d known as soon as they met that this man could burn the darkness away, and he does not disappoint.

Her hips are bucking wildly against him as he curves his fingers inside of her. His thumb is circling her clit and she’s trembling, but it’s still not enough. She feels frantic with need as she lowers a hand and quickly frees him from his trousers.

His cock is already fully erect and when she runs her thumb against the head, she can feel him weeping for her. She wants to taste him but that will have to wait because she needs him inside her even more.

She all but shoves his hand out of her as she lifts her hips, lining him up at her entrance. But right before she slides home, she changes her mind and decides to slow things down instead.

Alfie curses as she drags the tip of his cock through her slit and up over her clit, back and forth through the wetness, over and over until it’s driving them both mad.

“Fuck, love. You’ve got to let me in now, yeah?”

Her eyes snap up, locking with his as the words destroy her self-control. She gives in, slowly sliding down his glorious length until he bottoms out inside of her.

Now it’s Livy’s turn to curse. She’s never been so fucking full before, and she can’t stop clenching around him as her hips jerk in small circles.

“I’m close, Alfie. So fucking close.”

His thumb finds her clit and she can’t believe that she’s going to come so soon, but then a tidal wave hits her and she can’t think of anything at all.

Alfie takes over, his strong hands on her hips and she’s like a rag doll as he works her up and down his length. It’s sloppy now, and the sound of their bodies slapping together echoes across the room.

Suddenly, she feels him tense and knows he’s about to push her off, so she drives down hard and clenches against him. She can sense his surprise but it’s too late; he’s cursing as he jerks inside her, coming in long hot strokes.

Livy collapses in a heap against his warm chest, and she smiles to herself as his strong arms wrap around her. She weaves her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and waits patiently for the roar in her ears to fade away.

Alfie responds by tenderly stroking her hip and the two sit in silence, their breakfast abandoned, until finally, cool air against sweaty skin makes her shiver.

“C’mon love, it’s time to get you cleaned up,” says Alfie, somewhat reluctantly, as he gently lifts her off his lap.

Livy watches as he stands, grumbling under his breath about his hip because he just can’t help himself. But he offers out his hand and she gladly accepts it, although she pulls back before he can lead her up the stairs.

“Alfie,” she says suddenly. “Don’t leave me alone today.”

“Livy … “ He hesitates, knowing that she’s not going to like his answer. “It’s not a good time, yeah? A lot fucking going on, pet.”

“I know, Alfie, but I can help. I’m good with numbers, I promise.” She begs him softly, “Let me come with you.”

He sighs and rubs his free hand roughly across his brow. She can tell that he wants to stay no, but she’s determined. There’s only so long she can spend in this big empty house, with nothing but thoughts and ghosts for company.

So she pouts and presses herself against his chest, and he almost laughs at her shameless display—but then she looks up from under her lashes and gives him the look that made her the most popular girl in the Eden Club.

She waits … one, two, three.

“Fucking hell.” He growls, throwing his hands in the air. “Alright, pet. You know just what you’re doing, don’t ya?”

She doesn’t bother to hide her smirk as he yanks on her hand, practically dragging her up the stairs with him.

“Should take you along to business meetings. Cheeky minx, ain’t ya? No fucking morals, I tell ya, taking advantage of a humble old man.”

Now she’s laughing out loud, tears nearly spilling over, and Alfie can only grunt in disbelief.

“Keep fucking laughing,” he mutters as he shakes his head. “Just hurry your pretty arse along, it’s late enough as it is.”

Alfie continues to grumble and makes a big show of checking his watch.

But when they reach the top of the stairs and she presses a soft kiss against his cheek, the most dangerous man in Camden Town can’t help but crack a smile.

A/N: The line “the body keeps the score” is the title of a book I read about trauma by Bessel van der Kolk. It was stuck in my head, so I used it even though I’m not 100% sure it makes sense.

Also, I’m not sure if I should have broken this into two chapters instead of one? I’m new to writing fiction and sometimes I feel like the flow is off, but oh well. I’ll keep plugging along anyway because I’m in love with Livy and Alfie now!

#alfie solomons #peaky blinders alfie #alfie x oc #alfie x original character #alfie solomons fanfic #tom hardy #tom hardy fic #tom hardy fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fandom #alfie solomons smut #alfie smut #livy x alfie

94 notes · View notes

ceirinen · 4 months

Text

December 2023

I decided to make a list of every fic I read each month.

I would like to interact more, but life has been complicated recently and when it comes to interacting, I get very anxious which is something I'm trying to overcome.

So, here I made this to appreciate such amazing writers and stories that inspire me and others everyday. To the authors, I want to thank them for their dedication and time spent on writing to offer us fascinating stories.

I totally recommend their work.

(If you are in this list and you don't want to, please let me know so I can fix it).

@cillianmesoftlyyy

So New | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader Method Acting | young!Cillian Murphy x Reader

@runnning-outof-time

Research | Tommy Shelby x Reader Bedtime Stories | Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter

@zablife

teacher!Luca Changretta x Reader Funeral | Tommy Shelby x sister!reader A Visit to the Peaky Blinders Set | Cillian Murphy x wife!reader

@gypsy-girl-08

Festive Spirit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader All I Need... | modern!Thomas Shelby x Reader A Gentle Warning | Thomas Shelby x wife!Reader

@pacifymebby

Arthur Shelby x Reader

@fkmarrycill

Pre-Gaming | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@holacia3

Lost and Lucky | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader Surprise visit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

@beastofburdenxo

Let Me Praise You | Tommy Shelby x Reader Raising Catherine | Tommy Shelby x Reader

@look-at-the-soul

If I let you go | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@your-nanas-house

What does my princess want? | sugar daddy!Cillian Murphy x sugar baby!reader I'm pretty sure you're mine | sub!William Killick x dom!fem!Reader What are we, idiot? | Neil Lewis x best friend!Reader Thirsty | Tommy Shelby x secretary!Reader

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@lis-likes-fics

Loner | Edward Cullen x Reader At the End of the Day | Tommy Shelby x wife!Reader

@rafeology

Mentor!Finnick Odair x victor!reader

@wife-of-all-dilfs

Flower Therapy | Finnick Odair x Reader

@darlingsfandom

Cillian Murphy x Reader Tommy Shelby x artist!reader Soft sugar daddy | Robert Fischer x Reader

@pinguwrites

Home Is Where the Heart Is | William Killick x future!reader

@http-finnick

Skin to skin | Finnick Odair x fem!insomniac!reader

@acewritesfics

Lost Love | Tommy Shelby x Reader 36 Minutes | modern! Tommy Shelby x Reader

@dearshelby

Had you first | Tommy Shelby x Reader Little Tommy | Thomas Shelby x oc

@lau219

Red Carpet | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@peakyswritings

I Do Bad Things | demon!Tommy x Reader

@shelbystales

Ceramic Lessons | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@darthannie

Day eighteen: breeding kink with Lenny Miller | Lenny Miller x f!Reader

@hllywdwhre

Afterglow | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@red-write-hand

I'll be home for Christmas | Thomas Shelby x Reader

@mysaintkitten

Bad Behaviour | Mike Kiernan x fem!Reader

@notyour-valentine

The Spirits that I summoned | young!Tommy Shelby

@brummiereader

No Son Of Mine | Tommy Shelby

@youbyradiohead

Strawberry Syrup | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillianthinker

British accent | Cillian Murphy x Reader Young and in love | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillspropertea

Coming home | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillmequick

Operation Christmas Tree | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

#cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #neil lewis x reader #finnick odair x reader #thomas shelby x reader #lenny miller x reader #arthur shelby x reader #mike kiernan x reader #william killick x reader #alfie solomons x oc #robert fischer x reader #edward cullen x reader #tom buckley x reader #luca changretta x reader #fic rec #monthly reads #fic recommendation

355 notes · View notes

justrainandcoffee · 2 months

Text

Deal (Tommy Shelby vs. oc!Solomons) + (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 1

“You're a lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf.”

Masterlist

Summary: Why is Thomas Shelby in front of Mrs. Solomons? Just business. Tommy just needs information. But first he needs to deal with Rose Solomons who, unlike her husband, has no sympathy for the man sitting in her office. And yet, they know how to make a deal. "A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby."

Warnings: Mentions of dead, killing. Allusions to sex. Mentions of physical violence. Misogyny.

Words: 4.5k. || Special thanks to @look-at-the-soul who helped me today 🙃♥️.

1924.

Yesterday

"The bastard is a fookin' ghost!" yelled Arthur.

The Garrison was empty except for those members of the Peaky Blinders, allowed to be there. There was a person that they couldn't find. An Irishman called Nicholas Baker, possible member of the IRA. Last time they saw him, it was he when he shot a blinder and left him to die in the streets. He escaped before Arthur or anyone else could catch him.

Since then, the brothers and the rest of the gang were looking for him no succeed. Not just because he killed a man they know, but also because they were sure he was a spy.

"Maybe he's dead," suggested Isaiah.

"No. He's alive and living in London." This time, Tommy Shelby's voice could be heard all over the place. "And Elias is not the only person he killed. And his real name is Sean Patrick O'Finn."

Tommy dropped a newspaper in front of his brother and Arthur read it out loud.

"His own sister! He fookin' killed his sister!"

"And tried to killed his wife as well, according to the neighbours. She escaped." Tommy sat in his usual place as he lit up a cigarette and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He looked at Arthur and the rest of his men.

"We have nothing, then! He can be in middle of fookin' Russia by now." Arthur was frustrated as usual.

"I don't think so. I think he's still there in London, and as we know, police is useless. London is a big city and they don't care. People are killed every day" Tommy lit another cigarette "but I'm going to find him. And I'm going to put a bullet in his head, too."

"You don't know where to start, Tommy!" Arthur furrowed brow and look at his brother.

"Yes, I do know where to start. I need to talk to his wife."

"But do you know where this woman is, Tom?"

"Yes."

The Solomons residence in London was quiet. Rose was working and Alfie just arrived there over an hour ago. He was about to rest his back in bed when their maid announced that he had a call.

"It's Mr. Shelby," the woman said. She saw him do a grimace, but he said nothing to her.

"Thanks, Doris."

Alfie entered his office and closed the door behind before picking up the phone. Every time Tommy called it meant problems, usually for him. But this time what Tommy said, took him by surprise.

"Are ya mad?"

"I just need her this time, Alfie."

"She will kill ya, mate."

"No, she won't. Your wife isn't a killer."

"Maybe. But the women around her are. Honestly, Tom, they're a pack of fuckin' bloody wolves claiming for men flesh. You're a little lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf. Rosie is the leader of that pack, if she gives the order next time I'll see ya it'll be in your own fuckin' funeral... If I find your body." On the other side of the line, Tommy opened a drawer and picked up some papers and started to take some notes. Sometimes Alfie exaggerated, especially if he was talking about his wife. As far as Tommy knew, Rose Solomons just worked helping women in need and in the streets fighting for equal rights. The few times he saw her in Alfie's place she didn't seem to be a menace to anyone.

"They're just women, eh?"

"My Rosie isn't just a woman, Tommy. She's me wife." Alfie sighed "Rosie will decorate the fuckin' Christmas tree they put on her workplace with your balls."

"I'll take a risk, then. Just wanted to inform you."

"Fine. But I'm not going to tell her yet. I prefer she knows it on her own… good luck then, Tom."

1924.

Today. London.

It's only 7am and the Solomons were making love for the second time in the morning. Rose didn't know what her husband was thinking, or feeling, that he had waking up so passionated but she wasn't complaining either.

"Alfie… I can't… god…" her back arched and her toes curled once last time until she fell on the mattress, completely satisfied. She could feel Alfie finish as well.

The man stayed on top of her few minutes more, catching his breath, before rolling on his back, laying next to her. Alfie opened his arms and invited her to be against his chest.

"Are you fine?" she asked kissing his neck.

"Feelin' like a God now, luv. Why do ya ask? You're talking like we never fuck like this before."

"I ask, because I know that sometimes you use sex to channel your frustrations and I just want to know you're fine."

"I'm perfect, Rosie. Gimme some time and we can repeat it."

She laughed. "No way you still have energy, Al. I can't, I've to work. Tonight, maybe."

In response, Alfie kissed her. That same night, probably she wants to kill him. He had talked to Tommy the day before and she didn't know. Alfie was just trying his best to calm her before the storm. Although spending time with her, it was always beautiful. The kiss continued until she pulled apart slowly. He caressed her cheek. Rose knew that Alfie definitely was hiding something from her, but she didn't know what. After one last brief kiss, she sat down in bed and then walked to the bathroom to take a shower.

Alfie stayed in bed, thinking about his friend going to his wife's place. In all those years, over a decade since it was founded, he visited her school just twice. Once when it was inaugurated, when they met each other again, and the other one after the war. They had an implicit deal: "You don't interfere with my business and I don't interfere with yours" even if they asked each other for some advice, suggestions or help. He was a bit worried about her, even when he knew that Tommy wasn't going to hurt her.

When Rose went out the bathroom, she found him sitting in bed, stretching his back, ready to have breakfast. She approached him and played gently with his hair.

"Thought you're going to join the shower."

Alfie put his hands on her hips and pushed her down on his knees. She was wrapped with a towel and when Alfie kissed her shoulder, he smelled the fresh soap on her skin.

"Ya didn't invited me."

"Since when you need invitation?" she chuckled and put her arms around him. Her hands were stroking the back of his neck. Rose was staring at him, "are you sure you're fine?"

"I am, Rosie."

"Okay," she didn't believe him, but she wasn't going to pressure him either. Instead, she kissed him and he reciprocate immediately. Her towel fell on the floor and she felt him ready to be with her once more.

Never two without three.

Arrow house

By the dawn of the next day, every Shelby knew where the leader was going. If they had any opinion about it, they didn't share it. A car was parked outside Arrow House with three men in it.

"I'm going now," announced Tommy. His black coat was over a chair and he took it. "Johnny Dogs and the Smiths are coming with me."

Arthur chuckled. "Johnny Dogs? And the Smith brothers? Ain't too much, Tom? Four men to visit just a bunch of pussies and tits? They're just chicks."

"Not according to Alfie."

"According to fookin' Alfie! The fookin' Alfie! Ya believe him?"

"Yes. Alfie will never allow me to be near his wife, if he didn't know now that she's safe. I know that. And if she's safe that means she's surrounded by an army."

"Are ya planning to kill them?"

"I don't kill women, Arthur. And I don't want problems with Alfie. It's just in case."

"So take me with ya!"

"Arthur, no offense but you don't know how to deal with a Solomons. Stay here and take care of the business, eh? I'll be back at night, probably or tomorrow."

"Tom! Tommy!" the eldest brother yelled but the other man already reached the door.

"Goodbye, Arthur. Tell Pol, that I left her a letter under the flowerpot."

Pebblebrock was Rose Solomons' former manor and prison hell at the same time. Now it was a beautiful school for girls and at the same time it served as a roof for some women who had run from their abusive homes.

As the owner, she was the one in charge even when she had several women in which she trusted working with her side by side. But the final decision on everything was always hers.

Alfie, and Tommy too, were right. The place and Rose, were surrounded by women specifically trained to kill. It wasn't uncommon for men to try to reach those who they already hurt. The rules were crystal clear MEN ARE NOT ALLOWED IN PEBBLEBROCK. The ones who didn't understand the warning were now resting eternally in a cemetery.

Men were only allowed if they were doctors or priests. The institution had nurses and two nuns who volunteered to help there. But sometimes a doctor was required, same with priests. Any other men should call for an appointment, only under that circumstances their entrance were allowed.

"Look at this fucking place."

From the road, Tommy, Johnny Dogs and the Smith brothers were watching the entire property. The gardens extended beyond their sight.

"Full of pussies, it's my fucking paradise. An all-you-can-eat-fucking restaurant" commented Gregory Smith. Except Tommy, the rest of them laughed.

Rose heard the crows. That was never a good signal.

"Now who?" she thought for herself. A lot of names crossed her mind, but none of them was the right answer.

Five minutes later a knock on her office's door brought the answer.

"Who?" she asked not believing her ears.

"Mr. Thomas Shelby, Mrs. Solomons" repeated the woman in front of her. "He says he needs you."

"The Thomas Shelby?"

But unaware of who he was the other woman didn't respond.

"Yeah, well. Tell him I'm coming."

"There are three other men with him, Mrs. Solomons."

Of course.

The day was beautiful. Cloudless sky and almost no wind. It'd be perfect if not for Tommy Shelby in her property.

"Didn't you read the sign?" she said greeting them "men are not allowed here."

"Good morning, Mrs. Solomons," said Tommy with deep voice.

"It is, Tommy. It is."

It always was intrigued him that a man like Alfie could be so devoted to a woman who barely reached his shoulders. His Rosie. Alfie Solomons could start a war against the king and the Pope if something happened to that woman.

Gregory Smith had another idea.

"We don't follow rules, sweetheart. We're the peaky fucking blinders."

"The Peaky who?" Rose looked at the man "Who the fuck are you?"

"The audacity of this bitch. It's a Solomons, eh?"

"Gregory…" warned Tommy.

"Yeah. I'm a Solomons. Proud of it. But I'm quite dumb, Gregory. So I need your help, I only know how to count to two. Like, one, two… what's next?"

"Three."

BANG.

A woman stading behind Rose was holding a gun.

The bullet impacted his head. The man was already dead when his body collapsed on the ground. Rose just looked her pocket watch and then clicked her tongue.

"Men are not allowed here," she repeated. "You understand the warnings now or you what to be the next?"

Tommy looked at the dead body. The blonde woman behind Rose was staring at him and Tommy knew that she wasn't joking. One more step and it couldn't be any difference between a Gruyère cheese and him.

Tommy sent Johnny Dogs and the remaining man again to the car. He also gave his gun to his friend.

"Ya sure, Tom?"

"Just go, Johnny."

When Tommy turned around again, he saw the woman extending her arm, she moved her hand "gimme the fucking cap."

Again, Tommy did what she said. She gestured him to follow her.

The interior of her office was elegantly decorated. An expensive rug on the floor matched the wallpaper and the mahogany desk. Lots of books were perfectly ordered on the bookshelves. Rose Solomons invited him to take seat on one of her velvety armchairs. Tommy followed her with his eyes. Now his cap was over the head of a marble bust representing Aphrodite, just behind her, looking at him. The woman sat behind her desk and put her hands under her chin.

"We have a beautiful garden here. A greenhouse full of exotic flowers and plants. Was your man married? I'd like to send the widow some flowers."

"He wasn't."

"Better, then."

Her brown eyes never leave his blue ones and same as Alfie, he felt she was trying to anticipate his movements. But Tommy didn't express any emotion.

"So? What the hell is doing Thomas Michael Shelby here? My husband isn't here."

"Not looking for Alfie."

"That's fucking new considering the mutual obsession you have with each other."

Tommy curved his lips, barely smiling. "I'm here purely for business, Mrs. Solomons."

"I'm not the kind of person you do business with."

"You are."

Both of them remained in silence for several seconds. Probably she was unaware of it, but Tommy noticed some mannerisms in her that he had witnessed in Alfie before. She was thinking while playing with her fingers. Impossible to say who copied who.

"What kind of business? Illegality has no place here," she finally said.

"I need to know where a certain man is."

Before she could say something Tommy saw the door opening and a beautiful woman in her mid-forties, entered Mrs. Solomons' office. She greeted him with a movement of her head and then started to talk to Rose in French but she stopped her almost immediately.

"This isn't going to work now, Geraldine. The man knows french," she said pointing to him "same as Alfie he fought in France during years. Tell Edith to come. She speaks Hebrew."

Geraldine nodded before leaving again.

"You do that often? Speaking other language in front of strangers?" Tommy settled in the armchair.

"Don't you do the same? I'm sure that speaking Romani is very useful if you want to express something to a friend or relative but you don't want the other to know what are you saying. Don't judge me, Mr. Shelby."

Edith, Tommy asummed it was her, was barely in her 20s, probably she was still a teen. Young and with a cheerful face, the girl approached Mrs. Solomons and both of them started to talk in Hebrew, a language he couldn't understand. For a moment, Rose looked at him sideways.

"Thanks, Edith" she said and the girl left without looking at Tommy. "One of your men tried to sneak in my school. Or they're fucking dumbs or they're really ready to visit God."

"Fucking hell…" Tommy rolled his eyes before breathing deeply. He was sure it wasn't Johnny Dogs but the other Smith. "Listen, Mrs. Solomons, I didn't give the order. I didn't know."

"I know, he acted by his own. Good news is he's alive. Bad news is my girls are taking care of him. It depends on you what I'm going to do with him. Alfie knew you were coming, didn't he?"

"I called him yesterday."

Rose sighed "Yes, of course he knew. Of course he fucking knew," his actions that morning now it made sense to her. Not because it wasn't unsual for them to have sex in the morning, but because there was something in his eyes that his mouth wasn't saying. And after all those years together, Rose knew him very well. "Anyway… what do you want do with your man, Mr. Shelby?"

"Can I smoke?"

"If you go next to the window and put your hand with the cigarette out, I don't have any problem. But I don't want smoke here."

She saw how he stood up and walked towards the window. That one in particular faced one of the gardens where the rosebushes were. In spring and summer, the sweet smell of roses invaded her office and it was something that she really liked.

When that morning Arthur asked him why he took three men with him just to visiting a school and women's residence, Tommy was exploring his chances. Better Gregory Smith than him. He trusted Johnny Dogs, he was a loyal, obedient man. But the Smiths…

"Kill him if you want," Tommy finally said "if my man can't follow my orders, then he should face the consequences. This is your place after all, Mrs. Solomons."

"Edith told me he was screaming that he wanted to avenge his brother."

"Yes. The one you kill it was his brother." Tommy glanced at her. A ghost of a smile was on his face.

"I never killed anyone, Mr. Shelby."

"You don't need to hold a gun and shoot to be a murderer. Most of the murderers just give the order behind their desks."

"Well, he'd be alive if he hadn't been an asshole. It's all about the rules, Mr. Shelby. The sign is there for a reason and if you ask me, you don't seem very concerned about your man's death."

"Rules, eh? Something tells me you're not very fond to follow them, either, Mrs. Solomons. How was the prison?" Tommy blew another puff of smoke out the window, but kept looking at her.

"Pretty cold. Full of cooties and rats. I named one in your honour, that's a tradition that we the Solomons have. Name a goat, name a rat… How's Arfah, by the way? Alfie misses him."

"Thanks for the honour, Mrs. Solomons. Arthur wanted to come. I told him he doesn't know how to deal with a Solomons."

"Oh," she grinned. "And you do?"

"I'm pretty confident about it. It worked in the past."

"I have no doubts about it. But I'm not my husband, Mr. Shelby. I don't fall for a pair of blue eyes and a chiseled face and most of all, I don't trust men."

Tommy threw the remaining of his cigarette in a basket that was there and walked again to the seat in front of her. He crossed his legs and rested his hands over his stomach.

"Do you want to fuck me, Mrs. Solomons?"

"Yes. Just bring me a bottle of cyanide to accompany the moment. And then I want to hug a black mamba. Your place or mine?"

Tommy chuckled. "Wherever you prefer, sweetheart."

Far away from being intimidated by the confidence he was exuding, Rose just scratched her chin.

"Alfie accepted? I mean, if this is the way you deal with a Solomons..."

"Never asked."

"Oh, you should have. The answer maybe could suprise you. But, let me tell you something, Tommy. Can I call you Tommy?" he nodded. Rose left her armchair and approached the man. He followed her with his eyes. Her face was now in front of his, their noses were touching. Both pair of eyes were staring at each other. Tommy felt her breath on his skin "I know who you are, Tommy. Reputation precedes you. I know how you do business with women. But here's the thing: I'm not them. And yes, I'm a Solomons, yes Alfie and I we have lot of similarities. But I'm not Alfie. I'm not interesting in you as a man and if your cock is the only thing you have to offer me, you're wasting your time here… sweetheart." Rose inhaled deeply "God! I never killed anyone, but I swear the devil keep tempting me. How about having your head as a trophy hunting hanging on this office? But…" Rose moved her head back again "as I said, I'm not a murderer."

"Alfie is a lucky man, Mrs. Solomons," Tommy said once she returned to her seat behind the desk.

"Is he?" She tilted her head.

"Believe me." Tommy straighted on his armchair "and I'm sure If something happens to him, I'm sure you're going to heard the devil that keeps telling you to kill someone."

"Be sure of that. If anything happens to my Alfie, the only one who can stop me is Alfie himself. I hope nothing happens to him, EVER. You know about it, don't you?. Your late wife, we knew what happened. I can't imagine the pain."

"No, you can't imagine. But I'm getting over it." Tommy cleared his throat "Mrs. Solomons, I need information."

"In exchange of…"

"Mutual respect."

Rose snorted. "Yes, sure. Alfie could be delighted when I tell him. Information means business, Mr. Shelby. And whiskey is for business, innit?"

She opened a cabinet in her desk and put a bottle of whiskey with the Solomons logo on it. Behind her, were two glasses that she grabbed. A rose was engraved on them.

"I didn't know you drink," he said.

"Only in very few occasions. I prefer just tea for the rest of the day. So? You tell me."

Tommy drank a sip of whiskey before talking again. In his mind the image of Elias dead on the streets of Small Heath appeared again. Contrary to Gregory Smith, Elias was a good man. Her widow was pregnant and a payroll wasn't enough for the woman to compensate her for her husband's death. Yet, it was the only thing that Tommy could do.

"I'm looking for Mrs. Baker."

"There are several, Tommy. It's a very common name. Any details?

"It's an Irishwoman. I don't know her appearance but her husband killed her sister-in-law. It means his own sister."

"Sonia," mumbled her, "but the last name isn't Baker. It's O'Finn. Although she said that prefers her own surname. I'm going to keep that information to me until you tell me what the hell is going on."

From the murdered committed in Birmingham to the one in London's underground. Tommy told her about his suspicions that O'Finn was a member of the IRA and how he, Tommy, was now a target of them. Again.

"If that's true," she replied "then no matter what, your head already had a price and it's not going to be me the one hanging it on my office, but them. Nowadays it's very easy to send a message to the other side of the map. A telegram or a phone call… I don't understand why do you want to talk to this woman if he already communicated with his people."

"Because I don't think he did that. He's hiding. He's a fucking rat."

"Ok. Well, there's a lot of problems first. Mrs. O'Finn, she's not in conditions to talk. Even if she can, you're not allowed to be near her and this is not negotiable. These women are under my wing. Not you, not fucking Churchill can be near them. I don't give a fuck if you bring an order from the fucking president of I-don't-know-where. Understood? I have women specialized in talk to women with the kind of trauma that Sonia has, so, think about twice before suggesting another way to do this."

"The less people know about it, the better, Rose."

She pointed to the door, silently. Tommy sighed. "Fine. But I prefer that you can be present. And me too. Or at least I want to hear everything by myself."

"Agree. We have a place we can use. I need to tell you, or better say, reminder you that Sonia is highly traumatized. Yes, she's alive but the price she paid…" Rose stood up again but this time she walked to one of her bookshelves and picked up a carpet, although to do it she had to climb a ladder. "Tommy, I don't have this rule of "men aren't allowed" just because I'm fucking misandristic bitch, I'm not. I believe in equal rights. I fight for equality. I have that sign because people here, women, kids… are afraid of your kind. I have a register for every single woman that lived here since 1911 when I inaugurated this place. Open the folder."

Tommy obeyed and his first reaction was exactly what Rose hoped to get "Shit…"

The first page was the document of a woman who lived there in 1914 before volunteering as nurse in France, Rose never saw her again. Her name was Rita Brown, 20 years old. She escaped from her house because her father was an abuser. He ended up cutting her face marking a cross on her.

"I don't allow men, because we don't know what kind of bastard will cross that gate. Your man, that Gregory, he's not the first. Dozens before him, I'm genuinely surprised that if you talked to Alfie yesterday he didn't mention my women."

"He did."

"So you knew."

Tommy nodded and Rose studying his face laughed . Suddenly she understood. "You bring this bastard on purpose! You fucking did! You wanted him dead. Fucking hell, Tommy. I heard things a lot of things about you and I'm still impressed. The brother, too? You wanted me to rid off the other guy, too?"

"Why not?"

"Fine. I don't give a shit. One less." She returned to her seat and rang a bell. The same young girl called Edith appeared. Both of them talked in Hebrew again and Edith went out again once they finished. "We have an agreement, it seems. Now my payment."

Tommy opened his coat and placed two payrolls on her desk.

"I appreciate the effort," she said no looking at the money. "But I'm not interested it in cash, although if you don't want it. I can use it to buy something for the school like a new piano for the girls and some violins. A donation."

"I don't want it," he confirmed "then what's your price, Mrs. Solomons?"

"A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby. I want a man dead."

"Who?"

"Churchill's right hand man."

Next part.

...so? 👀

#alfie solomons #tommy shelby #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #peaky blinders #tom hardy #peaky blinders x oc #alfie x rose #Thomas Shelby #cillian Murphy

101 notes · View notes

loulouwrites · 1 month

Text

HOME . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie comes back to a not so peaceful home warnings: unedited, pregnancy, period typical sexism, gender roles, angst, alfie isn't a very good husband but he's trying, they're a lil toxic but they're in love, swearing, slight sexual content (literally one mention of it), lmk if i missed any. word count: 3.8k

The days were too fucking long.

That's what Alfie thought as he walked through the front door, the sun had set hours hours ago, a nighttime fog clouding the dimly lit streets.

His day had been an easy one, by all accounts. He hadn't had to reprimand anybody, he had received minimal visitors in his office, and his knuckles were not bruised from where he had to smack a man for mouthing off. All in all, it had been a good day for the gangster.

Home had always been a welcome reprieve from his day job. Growing up in Camden, with no money and without a pot to piss in, he had never known the comfort of having your own home to come back to, one without the shouts of arguing neighbours coming through the walls, or black mold coming through the peeling patterned wallpaper.

Once he had finally made enough money through his multiple business ventures, he had bought a pretty house on the corner of a nice street - a street with trees that blossomed in the summer, one where the residents had time to take pride in their gardens - a truly upper class paradise.

He always thought his mother would have liked a home like this one.

It didn't come without its challenges - his neighbours would tend to cross the road when they saw him walking home, they would rush back in their houses when they saw him leaving his, even his dog was isolated from the other canine residents of the street - still, it was his home.

It was the home in which he had held his wedding reception, big enough to host the many people that came to wish him and his bride a happy life together. It was the home in which his first and second child had been born in - the first tears they cried occurring in their parents bedroom. It was the house the baby that was still growing in his wife's belly would be born in, too.

The house was different now. When he had first moved in - a single man that spent more time in his distillery than the expensive home - it had been slightly cold all the time, bare walls and empty cupboards. Now, the house was always the perfect temperature, the walls were decorated with stylish wallpaper and art he didn't understand in gold frames, there wasn't a cupboard in the house that wasn't full, perfectly organised and tidy.

It had gone from Alfie's status symbol to his family home.

It was hotter than usual when he walked through the foyer, though he didn't have time to dwell on it, the screams of his youngest child piercing his ears the second he opened the front door.

It was unusual and it made Alfie reach for the gun he always kept tucked into the back of his belt. The house was always filled with laughter when he arrived home from work, especially when he was home as early as he was now.

He crept toward the kitchen, the pained cries of his little girl getting louder with every step he took, his gun held in front of him.

"Daddy's home!"

He barely had time to register what was happening when he reached the kitchen, a harsh shove to his side sent him flying into the door frame, the gun going off and shooting a hole in the china cabinet before he even knew what was happening.

"What the fuck, Alfie?" He could barely hear his lovely wife's voice over the cries of his children. Looking to his right, his son was crouched on the floor, his hands covering his ears as he cried for his mummy.

His little girl was crying even louder now from her place on her mother's hip, her small hand gripping the woman's hair that had fallen out of her up-do.

"It was an accident," Alfie held his hands up, quickly dropping them to his side when his children cried louder at the sight of the gun in his hand, "he pushed me," he gestured to the boy that was still crouched on the floor.

"He's fucking eight years old, Alfie," his wife scoffed, rushing over to the little boy and kneeling beside him, running a hand through his hair in the comforting way only a mother was capable of.

"Stop swearing in front of the children."

"You just fired a fucking gun into the china cabinet," she shrieked, struggling to stand with the pronounced bump of her belly and child in her arms.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, tucking the gun back into his belt and running a hand over his face. "Benjamin," he held a hand out to his youngest, who had stopped crying, his face stained with tears. The young boy ignored his father, tucking himself into his mother's side, throwing a glare at the man.

Alfie sighed heavily, hands on his hips as he studied the three most important people in his life as they stood in front of him, a team that he was not on.

He was about to open his mouth and apologise when a cloud of smoke drifted over to him, stinging his eyes. He glanced to the oven, where the pot on the stove began to shake. The liquid inside bubbled furiously, its simmering turning into a violent boil. The aroma, once promising and inviting, transformed into an acrid, burning smell that hit everyone in the kitchen all at once.

"Shit," his wife spat, shoving their daughter into her father's arms carelessly before rushing to the stove, grabbing the pot with uncovered hands, and throwing it into the sink. She hissed as the pain registered, running her hands under the cold water, the skin red and angry.

"I can get these two ready for bed," he offered meekly, shrinking back slightly at the glare he received.

"Oh, how kind of you," she hissed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, turning back to the sink before anyone in the kitchen could see them fall.

Bedtimes were not Alfie's forte. He would usually arrive home after the children had been bathed and changed, just early enough to dip into their respective bedrooms and kiss them goodnight. Even when he was home, he was too tired from his day to do much more than that, leaving it to the woman that seemed to be a natural at such things.

"Bessie, please," Alfie huffed as the two year old splashed him with water. It had taken him longer than he would like to admit to even get her in the bath, her body straightening into an unbreakable line when he tried to lift her in, wriggling through his hands in a way that made him feel like he was holding the world's strongest jelly.

The little girl laughed as she continued to soak her father with bubbles, blowing them from her tiny hand in his face whenever he tried to reach over and rinse the suds from her curly hair.

He gave up eventually, hoisting her out of the bath before she knew what was happening, wrapping her in a towel and carrying her to her bedroom.

She sat on her little bed, watching him with curious eyes as grumbled to himself digging through her wardrobe trying to find a pair of pyjamas.

"Don't suppose you fancy wearing this to bed?" He held up a frilly dress he remembered her wearing to his cousins wedding, throwing it back in the drawer when she giggled at him.

"Her pyjamas are in the drawers, not the wardrobe," Benjamin's voice called from the door frame. He was stood in his nightwear, his hair still damp from his own bath.

"I knew that," Alfie scoffed, slamming the wardrobe closed and stalking over to the other side of the room, pulling open the chest of drawers less than gently.

"Second drawer, not first," Benjamin stated, and Alfie failed to recall a time he felt more judged than in this very moment. He finally located a pair of pyjamas, moving to sit on the bed next to his daughter as he began to dress her, thanking his lucky stars she seemed to have burned off most of her energy in the bath, her body floppy with tiredness.

"Mummy cried a lot today," his son said, leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed in a way that reminded Alfie too much of himself. "Bessie was being difficult."

"Bessie is two years old," the older man's eyebrows pinched together. "You were difficult too at that age." He finished dressing Bessie, gently pulling the covers back and placing her small head on the pillow as her eyes began to droop closed.

"How would you know?" Alfie's head snapped towards his son at his words.

"Excuse me?" The question was asked through gritted teeth.

"Bubbe came over," Alfie fought the urge to roll is eyes at the mention of his mother-in-law. The old cow had never liked him. "Mummy told her you were never around when I was little and you're not around now."

"Did she now?" He muttered, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Bubbe said you always have been a bad husband, and you're an even worse father."

"Now you listen right here," Alfie rose to a standing position, pointing a finger at his son, his voice quiet despite the anger he was feeling, careful not to wake the sleeping terror now tucked up in bed. "I am your father. You do not speak to me like that."

"I wish you weren't."

Alfie didn't know what to say, it was as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He had received gun shot wounds that were less painful than hearing those words come from his son's mouth. Benjamin didn't wait for a response from his father, pushing himself from the door frame and storming to his bedroom, slamming the door shut.

His eyes drifted to his daughter, now dead to the world, her long eyelashes fluttering as she dreamed of whatever two year old girls dreamed about. He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, his stomach clenching as the words repeated in his head.

I wish you weren't.

She was sat at the kitchen table when he eventually made his way downstairs. The shattered glass from the china cabinet had been cleaned up, and he made a mental note to have someone come out to replace it as quickly as possible.

Her cup of tea had gone cold, but she still had her hands clasped around the delicate china.

"Your hands alright?" He asked, throwing himself down in the chair on the opposite side of the table. She hummed in response, her eyes not lifting from the kitchen table. "Is dinner ready?"

That got her attention, her narrowed eyes meeting his, and she scoffed in disbelief at his audacity. Her chair scraped against the tiled floor as she stood, stalking over to the other side of the kitchen. He kept his eyes in front of him, his hands resting on the table, not hearing her until she came up behind him, throwing the burned pot in between his hands on the table.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the silver pot that had now turned black on the bottom, before he slammed his hands down on the table, his own chair scraping as he stood up angrily.

She rolled her eyes at him, walking out of the kitchen carelessly and into the living room, her husband hot on her heels. It was as if he wasn't there, the way she strolled into the room and sat on the dark blue velvet sofa, crossing her legs as if she were about to pick up a book.

The living room was always his favourite room of the house. It was warm and inviting, a room that had been filled with so much laughter and happiness. Now, it felt like the coldest room in the house.

"The fuck have I done now?" Alfie stood in front of her, hands on his hips and chest puffed out, ready for a fight.

"Besides shoot at me and your daughter?" She raised a brow, it could almost come across as playful to someone who didn't know her as well as he did.

"Fuck off," he sneered. "You were nowhere near."

"The bullet went right over my head, Alfie."

"I've shot a gun in this house several times - I know you're not upset about that."

"Aren't I a lucky lady?" She shook her head, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Fuck-"

"Tell me to fuck off one more time," she rose up from her seat on the sofa, poking a manicured finger in his chest.

"Tell me what I've fucking done, then," he tried to grab her wrist, but she shook it out of his grasp, taking a step to the side to avoid his reach.

"Nothing, Alfie," she groaned, running her hands through her hair. "You've done absolutely nothing."

Alfie Solomons was not a stupid man, nor was he ignorant to a woman's tone. He knew exactly what she was implying with her words, and it did nothing to stop the anger that was bubbling in his stomach, creeping up his chest, and out of his mouth.

"For fuck's sake, woman," he shouted, his anger growing when she turned her back to him, beginning to leave the room. "I do fuckin' everythin' to provide for you and this family, and you sit there with your fuckin' feet up, tellin' me I do fuckin' nothing."

She spun back around at his words, "keep your fucking voice down, the kids are asleep."

"Yeah, I know," he offered an exaggerated smile, "I put them to bed while you sat down here drinking fucking tea."

He could see in her eyes that she wanted to slap him, and in his anger, he wanted her to.

Just give me a fucking reason.

But she didn't, she barely acknowledged him, leaving the room and walking up the stairs. When Benjamin had been born, they had both agreed arguments occurred downstairs when he was asleep. Neither of them were naive enough to think they would never have fights - both outspoken and stubborn by nature - and they had honoured that agreement for the past eight years.

But not tonight.

Alfie stormed out of the living room, taking the stairs two at a time to catch up with her. He pushed the door to their bedroom open, finding her stood there with her arms held out, a pillow and blanket in them, offering them to him wordlessly. He grabbed them out her hands, throwing them to floor without a word.

He couldn't count how many times she had rolled her eyes this evening.

"It's that fucking woman again, isn't it?" He spoke finally, and she breathed deeply at his words.

"Alfie, my mother has nothing to do with it."

"Really? Because every time she pops in you suddenly have a problem with me."

Alfie's feud with his mother-in-law predated his relationship with his wife. The woman had never liked him, her lips would purse whenever she saw him at a mutual friend's wedding, she would glare at him in the street when she was walking home from the market.

When she found out he had been fucking her only daughter, she had gone ballistic, and they had shared a mutual dislike for each other for decades now.

"Don't be ridiculous, Alfie. She hasn't even been around today."

"Oh, really?" He crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips, and the way she avoided his face confirmed she was lying. She didn't pop round, call me a bad father in front of my fucking son?"

His wife's brows furrowed at his words, her mouth opening and closing around words she couldn't speak.

"Let me tell ya, I don't give a shit what you and that woman talk about," he stalked towards her, every step forward matched with a step back from her. "But if she comes 'round, bad mouthin' me in front of my children again - poisoning their minds against me, me and you are goin' to have a big fucking problem."

"'Poisoning their minds?" she sneered. "You think they need my mother to do that?"

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You think she's the reason your son fucking hates you?" He took a step back at her words, Benjamin's words from earlier ringing in his ears.

I wish you weren't.

"You're never fucking here, Alfie. Benjamin spends more time with Bessie than you do, he's the one who has to take her when I'm sick all morning, he's the one who sees how hard it is for me. Not you. You're always at work, even when you're home."

Alfie was floored by her words. He thought back to hours ago, when he was walking through his door with a smile on his face, ready to have dinner with his wife and go and kiss his children goodnight. How did the evening get away from him so much?

"Well he shouldn't have to do that," he spoke eventually, his voice softer.

"No, he shouldn't," she agreed, reaching to touch his shoulder gently. "But he feels like he has to-"

"Why are you making him do all that?"

Her hand dropped from his shoulder heavily, moving to place it on her chest in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

"He's a boy. You're his mother, you shouldn't be makin' him pick up your slack because you're not feeling up to it," her eyes widened at his words, tears pooling in the corners. "I mean, what kind of mother are you?"

"I...I..." The words wouldn't come for her, as if they were getting caught in her throat. She stopped trying in the end, nodding at his words and sniffing quietly. "I'm going to sleep with Bessie tonight."

He didn't try to stop her from leaving.

It was nearing 9 o'clock when he knocked on Benjamin's door, stepping in before the boy had a chance to say anything. He knew he wouldn't be asleep, his son - like him - was a night owl by nature, staying up until the early hours of the morning.

He was sat up in bed when his father walked in, reading a book in the dim light of his bedroom. He reminded Alfie so much of his mother.

"I talked to mum," Alfie said, closing the door gently behind him, lingering in the room as if he were a stranger.

"I heard," Benjamin said, closing his book.

"I'm sorry," the words felt wrong on his tongue, he had never been one to apologise to anybody. "I know mum asks a lot of you, but you shouldn't feel like-"

"Mum doesn't as a lot of me," the young boy interrupted, shaking his head in protest.

"Benny, I know you think you have to defend her-"

"I don't. Mum never asks me to do anything. I like helping her, someone has to."

That feeling in Alfie's stomach returned, the twisting pain in his gut, it seemed his son was determined to kill him tonight.

"Today, Bessie wasn't feeling well and neither was mum, Bessie wouldn't stop crying and mum was being sick and then bubbe came over and kept telling mum the house was too messy and Bessie wasn't dressed properly and when she left mum kept crying."

"I get it's hard, but everyone has hard days, Benny."

"Not mum. She told bubbe she's scared to have the baby because she doesn't know if she can handle three alone. Mum's never been scared before."

"She said that?" Alfie asked, his voice breaking slightly and Benjamin nodded in confirmation.

"I lied before," Benjamin told his father, ducking his head in shame. "Mum didn't say anything bad about you. Only bubbe did. Mum said you were doing your best."

And just like that, the animosity Alfie held towards his wife disappeared, replaced by a shame he had never felt before . He had stolen, betrayed and killed, and yet, he had never felt worse than how he felt in this very moment.

"Thanks for tellin' me the truth," there wasn't much else he could say. "Now go to bed, it's late." He opened the door to leave when Benjamin called out to him.

"I lied too. I'm glad you're my dad."

"So am I, son."

Alfie leaned against the closed door, his eyes on the one opposite him. His hand reached for the doorknob but he pulled it back before he touched it, making his way to his empty bedroom.

The sunlight crept in from the cracks in the curtains, bleeding into the bedroom, casting the pink floral wallpaper in an orange hue. She reached over for the little girl that had slept by her side the whole night, finding the spot next to her empty, the sheets cold beneath her hands.

"Fuck," she muttered to herself, pulling herself out of bed with a struggle, the growing bump making it harder to move every day.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she kept muttering, rushing down the stairs. She had overslept and her two year old daughter was probably missing. It felt like she cried more often than not lately, tears spilled from her eyes as she glanced in the empty living room before rushing to the kitchen.

She released a breath she didn't know she was holding when she entered, seeing Bessie sat in her highchair, laughing in delight at a piece of toast.

"Mornin," she approached the kitchen table apprehensively, the sight of her husband and children sat there, already dressed and eating breakfast with smiles on their faces, not feeling real. "We made toast, know that's all you've been able to keep down lately," her husband told her, standing up to pull out a chair for her. She took it with a smile.

"Aren't you needed at work?" She asked, nodding a thanks as he poured her a cup of tea.

"I am," Alfie nodded, "but Ollie can deal with it, I've given him strict orders I am not to be disturbed today."

"Alfie," she shook her head in protest. She didn't want this, for him to feel obligated to be here, for him to take over her duties in the home.

"None of that," he stopped her spiralling. "They can manage without me for a few days until we figure out something."

She smiled gratefully at him. She knew he understood, she didn't need him there all the time, she just needed a break.

"I also spoke to your mum," her brows raised at his words. The only time Alfie had spoken to her mother voluntarily was when he rang her to call her a dozy cow before hanging up without another word. "She's going to come over more, take the kids out, pick Benny up from school and all that."

"Thank you." She reached out to take his hand on the table, linking their hands together, squeezing in appreciation.

"Just don't expect breakfast everyday, that toaster is a fuckin' nightmare."

thanks for reading. i enjoyed writing and am considering making a lil series of this family so lmk if that's something you'd like to see!

#alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons

138 notes · View notes

call-sign-shark · 11 months

Note

The public, and by public I mean me 😂, want a play date between Kaiser and Cyril 🐕🐕. Destroying Tommy's garden

😂

Omg I died at your request. This was such a fantastic idea, Flor! Hope you'll enjoy some dog chaos 😂 I can't stop giggling when thinking about the moment Tommy will see it...

Summary: As you are waiting for Arthur in Tommy's garden, your afternoon takes an unexpected turn. In fact, Cyril and Kaiser decide to have a play date and it doesn't go well for the mansion's garden.

Words: 1.3k

Notes: This work is a part of Heaven in Your Eyes' universe, but you can obviously read it as a stand-alone.

If there was one thing you hated about your husband, it was his brother Thomas Shelby. That was why you decided to wait outside, in the mansion’s gargantuan garden, rather than accompany Arthur inside. Following the whole prison incident, he had himself become more distant from Thomas, even though the love and loyalty he felt toward his little brother kept him from sinking into pure hatred. Arthur reluctantly left you alone for a while in this potentially hostile environment, only doing so because of the giant hundred pounds dog that watching over you. For sure, Arthur knew that Kaiser would maim and shred any fool who would try to hurt you — you were more than safe when the dog was around.

Here you were, comfortably sitting on a bench surrounded by a dizzying range of colorful flowers whose delicate scent was carried away with the soft spring breeze. Reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland for the hundredth time, you felt yourself transported to Wonderland’s garden by the words that were printed on the paper. A relaxed sigh escaped from your plump and glossed lips as the gentle warmth of sun rays caressed your porcelain skin. You were devouring Lewis Carroll’s story when, all of sudden, the loud bark of Kaiser snatched you from your bubble. As a gargantuan Cane Corso, Kaiser’s growls and howls tended to be so booming and low-tone they would make everyone’s quiver, even when the beast just wanted to play.

“What is it, Kaiser?” You asked the dog, closing the book and gently scratching the huge brute behind his cropped ear. Standing at attention, his Hazel eyes were staring far away at the distance. You frowned and looked in his direction, searching for the source of his agitation, “Oh fuck —“ The word fell from your mouth before you could even realize it, for what was catching Kaiser’s attention was the large silhouette of a man in a hat, a huge English mastiff walking beside him. It did not take more than a quick look to recognize the infamous Alfie Solomons. You remained silent, one of your hands firmly closing around Kaiser’s collar to keep him close. To be honest, you mentally crossed your fingers for Alfie Solomons not to notice you for you wanted nothing from him. Not even a greeting.

“Oh! SHALOM MRS. SHELBY!” Alfie’s voice boomed in the distance. Mission failed — the king of Camden Town not only had noticed you but was now heading to you, supporting his weight with a walking stick. You have heard from the Shelbys that his sciatica had become worse over time — not that you cared though, “Shalom.” He repeated, his piercing blue eyes staring at your aquamarine irises with unsettling insistence as he waited for you to greet him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Solomons.” You gritted through your teeth, unable to hide the gleam of resentment that was burning in your dark pupils.

“Here I finally meet her, Arfah Shelby’s wife and dearest treasure! The angel who fell from Shamayim only to get dicked balls deep by a foul-mouthed, whiskey-drunk, and rabid Peaky Blinders. Not that I want to disrespect dear Arfah, what a scary lad he can be when he’s angry.” Alfie took off his hat when he talked, probably in the hope of showing a bit of respect. Or maybe not, it was always so difficult to probe his attentions and thoughts, even for a witch like you, “You made him a believer tho, and I can understand why now that I’ve met you.”

You bit your inner cheek so hard the metallic taste of blood exploded on your tongue. In case you doubted it you were now certain: you hated him. You were so annoyed by his presence that you did not notice Cyril and Kaiser sniffing each other, tail wagging in contempt.

“Now that we are here, I’d like to give you my most sincere apologies for attempting to murder your husband. It was nothing personal, just some business formalities but thanks God this whole quarrel is behind us now! But know that your lover is one hell of a fucking bastard hard to kill. And God knew I did my best to—“

“Listen Alfie, for the sake of your weird alliance with Tommy we’re going to forget this accident, especially because I was not there at that time. But know that your apologies are not accepted. Pretty sure Mrs. Rose Solomons would dig her nails in Arthur’s chest to rip his heart out if he had tried to kill you. Consider yourself lucky I don’t. Only out of sheer respect for Rosie.”

In the background, Cyril and Kaiser had started playfully jumping at each other, tongues hanging and butts wiggling. Quite a different mood than the one between Alfie and you. The Cane Corso rolled on the ground, his four paws up in the air as the Mastiff sniffed his belly. They seemed to have a hell of a fun moment.

“Bloody hell, woman, Tommy was damn right when he said you were Satan in the shape of an Angel. You’ve got claws just like me woman—“

“Goodbye, Mr. Solomons.” You cut him off, “Come on Kaiser.” You said, processing to leave the place but you stopped when you realized your huge guardian had not followed you, which was unusual taking into account how obedient he was.

“Well, well, would you look at that Mrs. Shelby! Seems like good Cyril and your dog get along pretty well. So well they don’t want to part, ey. You know I’m more than delighted by this new friendship because Cyril tends to feel lonely these days. He had a very great friend at Camden but I shot his owner — sad, sad story.”

“No, Kaiseeeeer.” You muttered to yourself, as you saw the two massive beasts chasing each other and barking playfully, their beady eyes glistening with excitement. Among all the friends Kaiser could have made, he chose Cyril. Not that you had something against that good boy, but it ultimately meant you had to stay near Alfie Solomons the whole time the animals were having fun -- And God knew the man talked too much, too fast, and was hard to follow. To be true, having a discussion with Solomons would always guarantee the apparition of an unpleasant headache. At first, you thought about forcing Kaiser to go, but he looked so happy you had not the heart to deprive him of his new furry brother, “Alright,” You finally resigned. Arms crossed, a moody pout plastered on your adorable angel face, you came back next to Alfie and kept your gaze fixed upon the dogs.

You both stayed there for a little while and surprisingly enough Alfie did not bother you that much. In fact, he was too busy looking at Cyril with a genuine sparkle of love in his eyes — for sure he had a close bond with his dog, as close as the one you shared with yours. Silence hovered above your heads until Cyril and Kaiser, delighted by the mansion’s vastness, ran to the most magnificent part of the garden to wrestle in it. The two adorable but massive beasts rolled in the flowers, their strong bodies crushing all of them and their jaws snatching the other plants. Alfie and you opened your eyes wide and turned toward each other at the very same time, as you both realized that the dogs were wrecking Tommy’s garden. But when your eyes met, surprise faded away and a devilish smirk dawned on your lips.

“Well — that’s problematic, innit?” Alfie said, sarcasm coating his words, “We should stop them.”

“Should we, though?” You replied.

Alfie took a last glance at the dogs, who were now ruining the only part of the garden that had been spared from their destructive paws.

“Naaah,” Alfie concluded.

You snorted in amusement and shifted your focus back to the animals as Alfie did, for you were both like dogs with two tails at the simple fact of bothering Thomas Shelby. They said vengeance was a dish best served cold, but the truth was, for once, vengeance was a dish best served with mud and crushed flowers.

"Fuck Tommy," You said.

"Yeah, fuck Tommy."

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Rose Solomons is @raincoffeeandfandoms ‘s OC

#arthur shelby x reader #Alfie solomons x reader #PEaky blinders imagine #Alfie solomons #Arthur shelby #Peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #Arthur shelby x oc #tommy shelby #alfie solomons imagine #Heaven shelby #Kaiser the Disaster

262 notes · View notes

themultifandomgal · 11 months

Text

Peaky Blinders Characters

Arthur Shelby

Tommy Shelby

John Shelby

Finn Shelby

Michael Gray

Isaiah Jesus

Alfie Solomons

Shelby Clan (Platonic)

Shelby Sister

Peaky Blinders (Headcannons)

Polyamorous

A Different Kind Of Love (Arthur and Tommy)

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader #tommy shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby #john shelby x oc #peaky blinders masterlist #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #alfie solomon’s imagine #isiah jesus

187 notes · View notes

heavencanbeaprisontoo · 3 months

Text

About Alfie:

I know this is a tricky subject, I’m only expressing a lil’ thought here. I think it’s interesting how few of us think that our OC or reader-insert could or should convert to Judaism if they married Alfie. We never remove his heritage from Alfie as we write him, but it feels like we do when it comes to courtship and relationships.

He’s certainly a sinner, but he’s very proud to be Jewish. Very protective of his community, even as a criminal. Even if Alfie loved a woman, I think he would hesitate to officially marry her unless she was already Jewish or had converted. And with the time period, it was a MUCH bigger deal to marry two people of different faiths. I think that’s something we take for granted a bit.

Do I think he would ever say “Convert, or this is over”? No! But he wouldn’t sacrifice his own principles or faith for another person. His lover would likely remain just a lover. Probably wouldn’t let his mom know about her.

Just my opinion there.

I personally haven’t seen a detailed conversion scenario happen in any Alfie fics, though I plan on writing that after doing more research. Obviously, everyone write what you like! I just think it’s an under-explored scenario.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x reader

52 notes · View notes

wandawiccan60 · 1 year

Text

Part 17: The Witch of Camden Town

Alfie Solomon's X Jovonka(FemOC)

A/N: Hey everyone I hope you are all doing good and here is part 17 of my story of Alfie and Jovonka. In this part of the story, I had a hard time wanting to continue but I liked how it turned out. I really can't wait for you guys to read the next part which would be very intense and upsetting for those of you that have been reading this far. But as always guys thank you all for sticking around also please comment, reblog, and also thank you again for the support. You guys mean a lot and I'll see you all later and again Enjoy!!! And as always catch you in the next one. See Ya!!!

Word Count: 7,100

ALFIE SOLOMON'S MASTERLIST

WARNING 18+ONLY!!!: Some Cussing, Mentions of Torture, Graphic Blood, & Physical Abuse

TAGS: @i-love-th-characters1, @hecatemoon87, @potter-solomons, @evita-shelby, @ao3feed-symbrock, @annisse, @theshelbyslimited, @theshelbyclan, @zablife, @tomhardyspinkyfinger, @kittycatcait219, @edwardthomashardy1, @star017, @jarvisrocks, @thealmightybitchgoddess, @ninja-potato-shelby-solomons, @professor-alfie-solomons, @solomons-finest-rum, @tea-atfive, @rikki-b-lake, @veddieiscanon, @symbean, @jollysoulfestivalfreak, @mollybegger-blog, @97freaknik, @twvstedsouls, @weirdgirl16355, @omgeternal, @buttercup32sstuff, @bubblyani, @raincoffeeandfandoms, @queenofthefaceless, @queencoraline3, @quarterpastmidnight, @thefics-that-drip, @lovebitesimagines, @alfiesolomons-treacle,

🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸🖤🎩🩸

Early In The Morning

Novel’s raspy breathing echoed upon the dismantled sewage basement, hearing some drops of water in the background. The lad’s head was hanging forward, while his bruised, scared upper body felt the chilly air. His semi-dry bloody wrists tied behind a long wooden pole as he continued to breathe heavily between his nose and watery mouth. His exposed feet felt the cold concrete floor. Novel mumbled some words that he himself couldn’t understand.

“Jovonka…,” he said as he whispered his name out slowly, lifting his head up and trying to balance his head, but had little strength in him.

In the corner of his eye, he heard the steel door of the basement open. Showing that Sabini and his loyal henchmen have returned to come to pay him a visit. It has been a living hell for Novel since they took him away from Margate that night. The only thing he has been witnessing has been nothing but torment, pain, and just a never-ending cycle of being lashed out on. Novel right away got used to being in pain and every time after a good few cuts, punches, and other tortures here and there. He never once showed any type of mercy and not giving in to telling the psychotic scumbag about where Jovonka and the rest were hiding. Novel didn’t mind the open wounds that were shown from behind his back to his once good-looking face. Now filled with the first cuts he received and some bruises on both of his cheeks. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Jack appeared in front of him, splashing a bucket of cool water at the circus runaway. It made him jolt in surprise. Novel breathed in and out more heavily as he adjusted his vision.

“Wakey, wakey you. What’s the matter, eh? Do you still think you can resist while your soul is between life and death? But you yea, you got some balls in ya lad, and I can respect tha’,” Jack said letting out a chuckle as Bob lifted Novel’s head up by grabbing a fist of his short long locks of hair letting out a low groan in pain.

“F-Fuck… you…,” said the young lad, giving a death stare back at the man Bob, then released his hand from his hair while he heard some more footsteps from the side of the dark basement.

“Good morning, my dear boy. How was your sleep last night? Oh, I know the answer to that, cold as ice, am I right boys?” Sabini humorously said as both Bob and Jack laughed at their boss’s joke. Novel stood still like a statue, not finding it funny at all.

“So then, is it finally your day to tell me what I have been asking from you? Or do we still have to continue doing the same old routine of me hurting you piece by piece? You have to at some point have to give in to where the rest of your family is. Because if you don’t then I’ll just have to kill you,” Sabini lastly said, but Novel didn’t seem to be bothered.

“You… You’ll n-ever see them, n-not on my w-watch,” Novel said between his broken words, heaving in and out for breath.

The Italian and his henchmen chuckled in unison, finding the young boy’s words foolish. Thinking that they would easily give up and let the lad go free. But that would not be simple and instead Sabini gave out an order to Jack.

“Get the car ready. We are heading out,” he said, and Jack did what he was told as he made his way up the basement stairs.

“Very funny their kid,” Sabini continued speaking as he walked his way slowly in front of Novel. “I like how you’ve been keeping me from not getting what I’m asking from you. Those circus whores are somewhere in Margate and you know who lives there, don’t you? Or must I have to remind you it is someone that is very close to me. And I believe he might be why your circus freaks haven’t been found yet, and that is why you haven’t spoken a word so you can protect him. So she won’t be discovered either innit?”

“I cou-ld… care less about him-him. That m-man is none of m-my fucking conc-ern. Only Jovonka a-and her sisters, h-he means nothing to m-me. He took a-away what I cared and l-loved.”

“Ahhh, so it’s a love triangle I see eh? Tell me then boy,” said Sabini, placing his hands on his hips as he continued speaking, “if you hate this man so much, all this heartache and hate you have inside of you. Why didn’t you kill him when you had the chance?”

Novel remained quiet, knowing deep down inside of him the Italian gangster was not wrong he despised Alfie so much. Since he took away someone that he loved and cared for ever since she came into his life. All that time of being nervous and admitting his love for Jovonka has been long gone and dead to him.

“How about this, lad? Would you like it if I were to help you ruin Alfie’s life so you can have your girl back? Does that sound to you? And you and your little witch princess will live happily ever after, just like you want. Just give me a straight answer and the truth of what I have been asking from you,” Sabini said, trying his best to convince the boy just so he can get close to what he really wanted, Jovonka.

Novel slowly gazed his eyes towards the man that had been tortured by for weeks, thinking if he should believe in him.

“After you h-help me out, keep your word that you let me and the girls go free. We will never come back to this place as long as I finish the Jew off myself. And I will tell you the truth. Is that a promise, then? And no tricks, deal?” the young boy said with a serious tone in his voice as they both stared into each other.

Sabini made a side smile, liking how the lad looks hopeful and desperate yet finds it laughable. He knows he got the boy where he wanted him, easily manipulating him to get closer to the real prize.

“You have my word and of course not tricks I promise,” said Sabini sitting down in front of him lying to the boy in front of his face as he spoke again, “Now tell me my dear boy, did Alfie Solomon’s really help you and the girls out? And if she told you about why she mysteriously left that night at my house, was it Alfie that caused her to disappear without a trace?”

Novel straightened himself up, resting his scared back against the dry bloody pole, breathing in a heavy sharp breath through his nose. With no second thoughts, the boy let out the whole truth without a care in the world.

You’ll get what’s coming to you Solomon’s… I will come for you…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Enrieta and Abraham were peacefully sitting outside of their tent as a small breeze blew in their direction. Waiting for the return of her three daughters that have been gone for too long. She had so much hope that they will come back to her soon. Even though they have to still be in this dreadful place, what she cared about the most is her daughters are alive and unharmed. Enrieta still had a lot of anger towards Abraham for letting Jovonka go that night to the house of Sabini. All because the money was more important than their own daughter, he should have none better. As the couple sat there quietly and looked out at most of the circus people walking. Abraham smokes a small puff from his small brown wooden pipe, thinking of how regretful he is feeling. Thinking about how he is easily greedy and awful of a father, he is especially giving up Jovonka to that Italian man that night. All because of how much money he was being promised from Gustovo. And now, seeing that all three of her daughters were gone, he wishes they were here with him. Wondering if they are safe and away from harm, hoping that they made it out of this place. From afar, however, they saw that same black car stopping in front of the circus entrance. Making both Abraham and Enrieta look at each other quietly, feeling nervous about why Sabini has come back unexpectedly.

“Ah, Mr. Sabini, good morning. What a pleasant surprise this is. How may I be of service to you, my good sir-” Gustovo cheerfully said, greeting the Italian until he stopped midway as he saw Novel coming out of the car along with Jack and Bob.

The fat gypsy owner felt his gut drop as he saw the young man in front of him, not wanting to believe he was here in flesh and bone.

“How… how did you find the boy?” Gustovo questioned Sabini, not taking his eyes off Novel, seeing how bruised and damaged he looked.

“It’s a long story, Mr. Gustovo, for another time. I need to speak with your fortune teller right now. And this time now is something more serious than before and I want you to be there as well,” Sabini demanded, which the devil owner only nodded his head silently, his eyes still looking at Novel.

“Yes, of course, right away. Luca, get Enrieta immediately and don’t waste any time on our guest, yes?” Gustovo said as the man walked his way toward the old couple.

“It- it cannot be possible, can it?” Abraham said out loud as he was in shock to see the young lad whom he promised to take care of and watch over his oldest daughter the day they went on that scout.

Enrieta then saw Luca approaching their way as she slowly got up from her seat, feeling something quite right about all of this.

“Mistress Enrieta and Mr. Abraham sir,” said Luca, taking his cap off from his head, “Mr. Gustovo is requesting your presence. He says it’s urgent and should come immediately.”

“Why? What is the meaning of all this? How come that man right there has Novel with him? There must be an explanation for all of this,” she said, pointing a finger in Novel’s direction, seeing how terribly damaged the boy looked, knowing something wasn’t right.

“Enrieta! Come here at once, now! Do as you are told and come along!” Gustovo yelled out to her while she stood in her place. Abraham looked on anxiously.

“Love, please just go don’t push this any further than what we are going through. I beg you please my dear wife,” said the old man standing up on his feet clinching onto his small pipe between his hands not wanting to see things get any worse.

Enrieta looked back at her husband with rage in her eyes, thinking of hearing how idiotic he sounded. She looked back at where Sabini was standing, lighting up a cigar between his mouth. While Gustovo was frustratingly tapping his right foot, seeing he was losing his patience little by little. Enrieta let out an inaudible sigh under her breath as she walked on her way toward her owner, ignoring Luca and Abraham. As everyone made their way inside the circus tent, Gustovo and Sabini sat down on either side of a brown wooden table. While Novel remained standing next to the Italian gangster.

“Now then,” Gustovo said, straightening himself up underneath his chair as he continued on, “please Enrieta, sit down.”

She then eyed Novel for a moment, but the young boy only looked away quickly, not wanting to make eye contact with the old woman who he was betraying in front of her without her realizing it. Enrieta still had his eyes locked on him as she took a seat facing Sabini until she made eye contact with the man she has grown to hate.

“You must wonder Mistress Enrieta about why I am here again and calling for your services,” Sabini then said holding his brown cigar between his left fingers and letting out a small smoke from his mouth, “well as you can see young Novel here told me a very interesting story about the night your daughter right. Turns out she had a bit of fun with my head and got saved by a close friend of mine that I never thought he would do such a fucking thing to me. And the young boy told me you are the only person who can truly show me everything that happened the night your precious daughter disappeared.”

Enrieta could feel her heart beating uncontrollably against her chest, knowing she was right all this time. She sat up straighter under her chair, folding her hands together on top of the wooden table. Her eyes narrow back at Novel, giving him a serious glare at him, feeling outraged and hurt.

What have you done Novel… what is going on here….

“He said you are the only powerful one to break this spell that apparently your little witch dancer placed inside my mind. It seems it was a false memory that she put in and that whole fighting with one of my friends at the party was all a lie. So please, if you could be kind, break this infernal hex out of me.”

“And if I refuse, what would you do then, hmm? Does all of this explain why Novel looks tortured and bruised and thinks I should do what you asking? I don’t think so, not until you explain to me why he is with you,” Enrieta boldly replied, tightening her clasped hands together and resisting whatever the wop was commanding her to do.

Gustovo raised himself up from his seat in a quick gesture as he tightly gripped the fortune teller’s neck.

“Get your fucking hands off of her, you fat pig!” Novel yelled out, launching himself across the table at the gypsy scum, but Bob and Jack restrained his arms.

“SIT THE FUCK DOWN AND SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!” Gustovo yelled at the boy as he tightened his grip behind Enrieta’s neck, letting out a painful groan.

Sabini took another drag from his brown cigar as he tapped his left index finger on top of the table.

“You’re a tough old witch. I can give you that, but I don’t like to repeat myself and you will give me what I’m asking for. So please won’t you be a good proper fucking fortune teller and show me what I came to see yea?” Said Sabini as he dabbed out his leftover cigar onto the dirt floor, letting out a long cloud of smoke.

“Gustovo, let go of my wife, please you’re hurting her-.”

“YOU STAY OUT OF THIS!” screamed out the gypsy devil, pointing a sharp finger at Abraham holding back the hard tears forming in his eyes.

Enrieta grabbed onto Gustovo’s large hands, trying to break the grip he still had on her, but it was useless. Jack and Bob pinned down Novel on top of a chair, both men gripping each shoulder together.

“My apologies, Mr. Sabini, but Enrieta here will do what I pay her to do. Won’t you dear?” Gustovo said harshly, tilting back her head back, both of them locking eyes.

She said little as she tried her best to ignore the pain she is feeling while Abraham just continued on looking seeing his own wife being treated abusively. Gustovo let the old woman go. Enrieta rubbed the back of her neck as Sabini leaned forward and reach down under the table. Revealing his pistol placing it on top of the table, pointing it directly at Enrieta’s way.

“So then, Mistress Enrieta, can you help me remove this infernal spell from my head? Or would you like to make things a bit more complicated? It’s your choice, the bullet through your head, or reveal to me the truth of what really happened that night,” he said clicking back the trigger with his right thumb making the fortune teller stiff in fear as she looked at Novel as he hung his head down in shame.

I’m sorry…

A moment passed by and Enrieta surrendered herself to Sabini as she placed her hands flat on the brown table. She felt a small tear stream down on the corner of her right eye as she locked eyes with the Italian Devil. In silence, she extended her hands out toward him, telling him to give his onto hers. Sabini laid his weapon down, closing the gap between his and the witch’s hands. Enrieta closed her eyes as she began to suddenly chant some type of hymn in Romania that Sabini didn’t understand. While the old woman continued speaking her tongue, the Italian gangster felt dizzy, hearing muffled sounds inside his head, until out of nowhere. He suddenly found himself inside what looked to be his own private office room. As he looked around him, he then saw himself and Jovonka coming inside. While watching the true events of what really happened on this very night, watching his last self with the witch dancer.

You tried to force my daughter to do something she didn’t want to do… and yet you placed your filthy hands into her…

Jovonka then punched him across his face as he yelled and cussed at her, demanding she come towards him.

“COME HERE!” He yelled out as Sabini saw himself pulling her from her hair as she screamed out in pain.

He then cleared the top of his desk as he pinned Jovonka hard on top. Sabini then continued in seeing his last self now kissing and trying to remove the girl’s cloak. While holding her hands above her head with his other hand. Jovonka continued begging for him to stop, but he didn’t give a damn as he continued on.

And that is when without you realizing it… he appeared…

It was then that Sabini saw Alfie grabbing him from behind as he beat the living daylights of the Italian scum until he tumbled down to the floorboards. Now covered in his own blood, Jovonka had the final blow as she kicked him twice. Until she knocked him out cold, seeing his own self lying slumped on the floor. Sabini clasped his hands into tight fists and it then showed Jovonka place a hand on top of his head. Assuming that she put the false memory spell inside of his head, blocking out the actual cause of his injuries. Opening his eyes wide open, Sabini exhaled a sharp gasp as he was back inside the circus tent. Enrieta was also breathing in and out while everyone else looked on.

“Alfie… was the one all this time…,” said Sabini between each breath he took, trying to steady his balance under his seat, “the one who helped that little runaway along with her other witch sisters. While keeping her hidden and away from everyone, all this time, they were right under our noses. He’s going to pay for this for what he has done. Especially that dancer of yours, Mistress Enrieta.”

“If you dare put your filthy hands on my Jovonka or any of my other daughters, you will meet your demise, Darby Sabini. It is for you to witness and see with your own eyes,” she threateningly said to him as she slowly breathe for air, giving a glaring gaze towards the gangster.

Sabini then slowly stood on his feet, ignoring the fortune teller’s warning, not wanting to believe in such a happening.

“Mr. Gustovo sir, may I request something from you if you don’t mind? I would like to buy your dancer from you. Name your price, it doesn’t matter how much she is wroth,” Darby requested as the circus owner arched an eyebrow toward him.

“Haha, aren’t you just a joker there, Sabini? But I must remind you, my dear friend. She is not really for sale, but you could have her as many nights as you like. But asking to buy her off me that won’t happen,” Gustovo said, taking his seat once more, keeping a smug smile on his face, thinking that the Italian gangster was fooling with him.

Sabini didn’t crack a smile at the gypsy pig, which deep inside of his soul he was inches away from wanting to punch him across the face. Without warning, Sabini pointed his weapon at Gustovo’s way, making him raise his hands in surrender.

“What the hell Sabini? Have you gone mad?”

“You heard me, you fat pig. I want your dancer and if I have to forcefully have to take her from you. Then I would fucking do it,” he said, pulling the trigger with his right thumb as Gustovo held his breath on his throat.

Abraham’s, Enrieta’s, and Novel’s eyes grew wide in shock and Sabini then went forward towards their owner. Placing the end of the pistol against the ugly gypsy’s forehead. Gustovo could hear the beating of his racing hearts on his ear, feeling like at any moment his life will end soon.

“Sabini, hold on for a bloody minute, will ya? Let’s discuss this in a calm and civilized matter like true business men-.”

“NOT A FUCKING CHANCE!!!” Sabini burst out as he pressed his pistol harder on Gustovo’s forehead not noticing Abraham and Enrieta made their way out of the tent, “you will either give her up to me and take my damn money. Or if you want to make it easier, I could place this bullet inside your damn brains. And make my merry way to get her myself and her other relatives, so what will it be, my good friend?”

Gustovo didn’t know what to think or say as he felt the muzzle of the gun above his head. Thinking about how much money he will lose if he accepts Sabini’s money. Just so the Italian could have Jovonka all for himself. After a second or so, Gustovo let in as he only nodded his head. However, Sabini had other plans on his mind, knowing that he won’t believe in Gustovo that easily. He then walked away from him for a moment, his back facing him.

“On second thought, you’ll probably just be in the way whenever I ask you for your witch dancer. So I guess the best thing to do with you Mr. Gustovo,” Sabini said, looking back at Gustovo giving him a side smile at the still frightened circus owner “is to end you here once and for all. Goodbye, you fat fuck.”

“NO PLEASE!” Gustovo yelled out pleadingly, but it was too late as Sabini blasted a bullet into his head. His now lifeless body limped back against his seat as blood streamed down slowly out of the bullet hole.

“Well, that’s the end of him, init boys?” Sabini said, as Bob and Jack replied with a chuckle in unison.

Novel still looked at the now dead corpse of his once abusive owner, now gone forever.

“Now then boys, we have much work to do now that I came what I want. But first, we have to let the others know before we leave for Margate, I must first pay another visit to my not-so-dearest friend one last time.”

“But boss wha’ about these circus people, wha’ should we do with them?” Bob asked while Jack was holding onto Novel’s right arm, leading him out of the circus tent.

“What about them? They’re none of my fucking concern. They’re free to go. After all, their owner is as good as dead, so I couldn't care less whether they want to stay,” Sabini said, making his way out of the tent. Bob then followed behind him.

Novel was then put inside the black car with his wrists tied behind his back. In the corner of his left eye, however, he saw Enrieta and Abraham outside of the car window. He could see through her eyes a sense of hurt, disappointment, and anger toward the young boy. Knowing that, Novel told Sabini the entire story of what really happened to Jovonka. The young boy turned his eyes away from Enrieta as the vehicle drove off, away from the circus. Waiting for the worst probable scenario he’ll have to live with and witness with his own eyes.

Forgive me Enrieta… for what will happen to Jovonka and everyone else…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Margate

Isabel and Mia continued working throughout the afternoon while Jovonka did the paperwork, which was for the best. Her older sister insisted she should head back to the hotel, but Jovonka told her she was fine. And so the three ladies went on doing their normal duties while sometimes Jovonka felt lightheaded, but she tried her best to ignore it. Thinking it was just an ordinary headache that would fade away some moments later and be like her normal self. However, she had this anxious feeling again that it could be possible that it was the start of what Isabel told her the other night at Alfie’s house. Knowing that the child inside of her has a long way to grow little by little.

“Jovonka, love, your sister is telling me if you can count these cloth sheets just so we know we have enough,” Mia said as she carried the sheets with both of her hands, placing them gently on top of the wooden table.

“Oh yes, just need to still write these last few numbers for this order we had from this week. Thank you, Mia,” Jovonka said, giving a small smile at her and she return the gesture.

“You know you can just go home. Just I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

Jovonka looked back at Mia, placing the pencil down on top of the worksheet and straightening herself against her chair.

“Yes, I know Mia, but it’s best I just stay here and we can finish quicker between the three of us. But I’m fine, really. I have a slit headache but nothing serious I swear,” said Jovonka, folding her hands together, but she knew the true reason she hadn’t been feeling well.

“Very well then darling I just don’t want to see you pushing yourself too hard, especially for a young girl like you,” said Mia making Jovonka chuckle at her comment “however if you need anything let me know, or sister yes?”

“I will Mia, don’t you worry,” Jovonka said as she then went back to counting and writing the records down on the paperwork.

“By the way, if you don’t mind me asking,” Mia then said while setting out the cloth sheets by color, “how have things been with you and Alfie?”

Jovonka stopped writing midway, feeling her body feel tense just by hearing the name of her loved one. For the last few weeks, the only times she has seen Alfie was when he came to take Elena to school. And once the day was over, he would bring her little sister back to the hotel. They would talk and be in each other’s company while they talked in the small dining hall of the hotel. At some point, Alfie begged Jovonka to come back home with him. But the only thing that he would get out of her was the same response for the last few weeks.

“Just give me time to figure out what’s going on with me. I just don’t want to affect all of my frustrations and pressures on you. But my love, I promise you with all my heart and soul that I’ll come back home to you. I’m sorry again for disappearing for far too long. Never forget that I still love you, no matter where you are or go. My heart beats for you and for no one else,” she would say after one week of being separated from each other.

Alfie said nothing and only nodded his head in reply as he placed a hand against her right cheek. He leaned in to give her a sweet kiss, longing to feel and touch her smooth lips on his. Little does he know it would be the last thing that he would do with her.

“Well, everything’s been quite fine just… it’s complicated. But we still see each other even when he has to go to Camden Town for work. No matter where he goes or does, my heart still beats for him, and pray to the heavens to protect him. However, we’re still alright,” Jovonka said, lowering her eyes and fiddling with the pencil between her hands.

Mia could tell by her body language there was something more than the young woman was not fully telling the whole story. But she didn’t want to ask any further and instead she just nodded her head.

“I see, my child, but no matter how your relationship is between you two, I only wish the best. I could feel that you love him very much and I respect that. But I’ll say that you did, however, win the heart of a gangster, and for a good reason. And what’s more special is that it was you and not another woman and I could tell he means a lot to you. You two were meant for each other,” Mia said, finishing setting all the colors in groups as Jovonka just smiled at her.

“He does care a lot for me, believe me and hehe well you’re not wrong about me winning his heart over. I was the one who made the first move and ever since that night my world changed forever,” said Jovonka, remembering how she danced in front of him and shared a small and not-so-innocent lap dance.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, they then heard some shouts and saw some of the town folks running by the glass window of the shop. Then the sound of guns were heard somewhere in the distance. More people were running the other way as Isabel opened the door until she saw, to her horror. It was a group of men with weapons in their hands as they continued releasing bullets. Scaring away the frightened people of Margate while some men tried to fight back, but they didn’t succeed.

“Miss Isabel!!! Get inside! Hurry,” yelled out Vlad from the other end of the sidewalk as three more men followed behind.

Isabel did what she was told as she fully shut the door behind her, hearing Vlad shoot his bullets off.

“Sister, what is going on out there?” said Jovonka, but before she could ask any further, the door of the shop was suddenly kicked open by an unfamiliar man they had never seen around town.

“Well, afternoon ladies,” said the man as Mia Isabel and Jovonka walked slowly away from him.

Jack then appeared from behind the man, taking his cap off from his head.

“Mistress Jovonka and Isabel, I presume?” He asked, giving an ugly grin. Isabel grew wide in shock, wondering how he knew her and her sister’s name.

“Who the hell are you? And how do you know our names?” She replied as they slowly backed away from him.

“Don’t you know, dear, you are the famous circus runaways tha’ have been gone for months. Your master has been sendin’ out his people, including us, to come to look for you girls. Until now,” Jack said, giving another nasty smile at the women as he continued on, “so please come with us. We promise to not harm you.”

“No, we will not go with you,” Isabel protested. Jack, however, was not having it.

“As you wish. Boys, take them,” he commanded as two men walked forward, but Jovonka Isabel and Mia made a run for it.

They ran their way to a back door of the shop and Mia then got caught by one man by the arms. Both sisters made it out of the store, making their way out through the little alleyway. From behind, however, Isabel was next to be caught by one man Jovonka stopped mid-way. Looking back to see her older sister being wrapped by the man. Isabel fought back with all she could, scratching, biting, and punching the man’s face.

“JOVONKA GET OUT OF HERE!!! GO! NOW!” she yelled out to her middle sister Jovonka and ran away as far as her feet could take, heading back towards Alfie’s home hoping also that Little Elena was there.

“Fuck, get to the cars. Now! Move!” exclaimed Jack, hurrying while the two men that caught Isabel and Mia escorted them to one vehicle not knowing where they will take them.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sometime later, Jovonka finally made it back to Alfie’s home. Little Elena, Cyril and Edna were nervously waiting for Alfie’s return. But he was nowhere to be found. There was a loud banging on the door that made everyone jump in fright. Henry and three other bodyguards were there as they held onto their guns, prepared to take fire.

“Hold your bullets, men,” said Henry in Yiddish as the banging continued on as he carefully reached for the doorknob.

As he peaked out, to their relief, it was Jovonka breathing in and out for breath as she made her way inside.

“Jovonka,” called out Little Elena, running her way towards her big sister and wrapping her arms around her waist. Cyril barked and whined at the sight of her.

“Miss Jovonka, my apologies. I thought you were one of them. Are you alright?’ Henry asked, placing a hand on top of her right shoulder.

“They… they took my sister… and my friend Mia. I don’t know where, but they’re coming here for me and Elena next. We have to get out of here and go to Alfie, but we have to go now,” Jovonka said as her breathing came back to normal.

Henry just nodded his head as he told his men to get a car as quickly as possible. Two of the bodyguards left the house. Jovonka, Elena, and Edna sat in the living room. While they apprehensively waited for the men to come back, hoping to get away from the group of men.

“Jovonka, what is going on? I’m scared, and why did they take Isabel away?” Elena said in a panicky tone. Jovonka wrapped an arm around her small shoulders.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but don’t you worry, we’re going to get her back. We just need to go to Alfie first and tell him what’s going on, ok?” she said, trying to reassure her little sister about this whole situation.

“I feel that Darby Sabini himself sent these men. They have to be. It wouldn’t be a coincidence mostly that he came here before. We have to tell Alfie Jovonka. He has to know this immediately,” said the old maid as she paced back and forth, gently biting her fingers.

Jovonka thought about this for a moment, thinking if it was possible, it was Sabini’s men.

“Where the bloody hell are these two? We’re wasting too much time,” said Henry angrily as he also was pacing from one side to the other as well.

Minute after minute everyone grew impatient as the others hadn’t come back yet. Jovonka felt a bad feeling that Sabini’s men killed or captured them. Everyone then heard another knock on the front door, hoping it was the two men coming back from bringing the car.

“Ladies, go to the back of the house for all your safety. If it’s who we all think of and we don’t make it out, run out of Margate and head to Camden Town. It was an honor to meet you girls, tell Alfie we tried our best to protect you all. Farewell,” Henry said, tipping his hat towards the girls while Jovonka nodded her head and said “thank you.”

As the three ladies made their way to the back of the house, Henry and the other bodyguard stood their place. Holding up their guns, ready to take aim.

“This way girls, hurry,” Edna said, guiding Jovonka and Edna to the back as Cyril followed behind.

They then heard a muffled thud of the front door opening along with gunshots and what sounded like items being broken. Realizing that the Italians men were inside. Not wanting to stay any longer, they all got outside of the house they jogged their way through the small garden. As they reached the small black gate, they heard the sudden shouts of the men from inside the house. But in the corner of Jovonka’s left eye there, she saw a car approaching their way. And it was none other than Jack, with four other men inside the vehicle.

“You three stop there!” He shouted, but the three girls didn’t stay there for one bit.

“GO! RUN!” Jovonka yelled as they ran their way through the gray pavement streets, trying to outrun the men.

At the end of the street, another car appeared in sight, making the girls stop for a moment. Thought that they were trapped, but they saw a small alleyway on the left side.

“In here hurry!” She said as they went running through the small pathway.

They heard from behind the cars coming to a stop as three of the men quickly got out of the cars. They then ran their way as fast as they could to catch the girls. And not long after, one man caught Edna first as the old maid tried her best to get off from the man’s forceful grip.

“EDNA!” Yelled out Jovonka, looking back at the old woman.

“DONT STOP!” GO!” she said back, which they did as they made their way towards another alley.

It felt like hours went by as Jovonka, Elena and Cyril made it through several buildings, not knowing if they will get out of Margate. Up ahead, they saw what looked to be tall grass trees, thinking they had reached the end of town. They made it inside the forest like trees as they tried to catch their breath for a moment. However, they heard the vehicles approaching their way, knowing they had caught up to them. Jovonka

“Oh, no… they’re coming. What should we do Jovonka?” Elena asked between breaths, gently wrapping an arm around Cyril, which the big dog huffed for his own breath as well.

Jovonka thought long and hard about what they should do next. Thinking long and hard if they should keep going and she took a different turn. Something she didn’t want to do, but it was for the safety of her little sister.

“Elena, love, listen to me,” Jovonka said as they hid behind one of the large trees as she knelt down in front of her sister. “get away from here as far as you can go. Don’t look back and do not trust anybody and stay out of the roads. I love you so, so much, and stay close to Cyril. Promise?”

Elena’s eyes turn to broken tears, embracing her big sister in a tight hug. Jovonka returns the gesture.

“Be brave and strong for me Little Elena, I know you’ll be ok,” continued Jovonka, placing a kiss on Elena’s left cheek and leaning back to look at her sister one last time.

The little girl nodded her head, wiping away her tears behind her hand, not wanting to be separated from her.

“Here, take this,” Jovonka then removed her purple charm necklace from around her neck as she wrapped the piece of jewelry around her, “so you always remember me and Isabel are always in your heart.”

“I love you Jovonka,” said the little girl, giving a sad snap smile, nervous to go off alone.

From afar, they then heard the sounds of the cars stopping and the voices of men coming their way. Seeing they are now looking for them on foot.

“You must go now Elena, quickly. And remember, don’t stop and Cyril, you big mutt, take care of her ok?” Jovonka said in a whisper while petting the top of the dog’s head and in return, he gave her one last kiss goodbye on her right cheek.

Elena and Cyril jogged away towards inside the endless trees. Jovonka saw them go with a painful heart.

Be safe my Little Elena…

“Search the area men, and be quick abou’ it,” commanded Jack, the group of men then scattered around to find the girls.

Jovonka leaned her back against the brown tree trunk, readying herself to lead them away. She took in a heavy breath, feeling her heart pulsing uncontrollably against her chest. Once taking her last long breath through her nose, that’s when she made a leap for it.

“Hey! Over here you ugly smugs,” she yelled out, waving her arms for them to see.

“Go get her!” Jack called out. Three men ran after Jovonka, trying to catch up with her pace.

She made her way toward the dirt road, hoping to take them far away as much as she can. Once she made it to the road on her right side, one car was driving after her, but she then made another run for it. Going to the other side of the road, the man from inside the vehicle got out quickly. Closing the gap between them and Jovonka, she then ran her way down a small steep field but failed to keep her balance steady. She collapse on the dirt ground and while trying to get up quickly, one man held onto her arms.

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME!” shrieked out Jovonka, trying to break free of herself against the man’s hands.

Another henchman came behind her and wrapped a small white cloth around her mouth to shut her up. They then tied her wrists behind her back as one man hoisted her up and carried her above his right shoulder. Taking her back to the car while she kicked against the henchmen’s chest, wondering in her mind where they were taking her away.

Up ahead in the deep trees, Elena looked back for a moment, seeing that Jovonka was now captured and placed inside the car. The little girl wanted to go after her, but she held herself back and instead continued to run away as Cyril jogged beside her as the dual got away from Margate as far as they could.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

6 notes · View notes

rysko · 2 months

Text

Rysko's guide to the galaxy - Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Hiya! Welcome to my Peaky Blinders blog, i've been in the fandom for a few months now (late to the party, i know xD), but i've only started writing in late december. I'm finally doing a masterlist so i have an easier way of accessing shit (and maybe ya'll will as well). It'll be updated after every published work.

Want me to write something? My requests are open, rules are posted here.

Ongoing Series:

Kings of Spades - Luca Changretta x OC

Other fics (sorted by character):

Tommy Shelby -

(Coming Soon)

Luca Changretta -

Too old for this - Luca Changretta x f!reader

Arthur Shelby -

(Coming Soon)

Alfie Solomons -

(Coming Soon)

Aberama Gold -

(Coming Soon)

- MORE CHARACTERS TO COME -

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #luca changretta #aberama gold #alfie solomons #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders oc #kings of spades #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #luca changretta x y/n #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta fanfic #arthur shelby fanfic

34 notes · View notes

buttercupsandboys · 2 years

Text

Sunshine & Rainbows — an Alfie Solomons x original character story — Chapter 6

18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

CHAPTER 6: every man has his limits

Word count: 3037

TW: language typical of Peaky Blinders, attempted humour 😂

Livy meets up with an old friend, Thomas has a business proposal, and Alfie wants to strangle everyone.

— • — • —

Alfie Solomons is not known for being a patient man.

Usually, it doesn’t matter because people just listen. When he shows up at a restaurant, he doesn’t wait for a fucking table. When rent is due on his properties, people pay their fucking bills. When his bookies are on the tracks, the right horse always fucking wins.

People listen because they don’t want to find out what happens if they don’t.

But apparently when he asks tiny redheaded women to simply get dressed and get out the fucking door … no one listens. He knows because he’s been sitting here waiting for twenty fucking minutes like an eager lad on his first trip to a whorehouse.

“Oi!” He barks, catching the attention of Ishmael in the rearview mirror. “Five minutes, mate. Five more fucking minutes, and if her pretty arse ain’t in this car then you’re going in there, yeah? Toss her over your shoulder and drag her out if you have to.”

“Yes, Mr Solomons.” Ishmael nods obediently, but Alfie doesn’t miss the amused look on his face.

Fucking hell.

That woman already has him wrapped around her finger; he knows it and evidently, so does everyone else. It’s why he didn’t want her around the bakery. Between the Blinders arriving later today and Sabini’s threats, there’s a lot on the line and he can’t risk being distracted.

But then he thinks there’s just no fucking point—because it’s too late, innit? Truth is he’s already distracted because she’s all he can think about since the moment she walked through that door.

And maybe even before then.

He goes still as he thinks of France; of those cold, wet days when it felt like every single beautiful thing in the world had faded to black under the mud and blood. And how he held Livy’s photo while her father died at his feet, and how he kept holding on while they dug shrapnel from his hip; and how he came home but he still couldn’t let go because he looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise his own fucking face.

That photo has been with him all this time because he needed to believe that something pure and beautiful still existed in this wicked world.

But then she showed up—a cloud of sunshine and rainbows in this filthy, fucking town—looking up at him with those beautiful golden eyes like he’s some kind of man that he knows he’ll never be.

So yes, he’s distracted.

He doesn’t know how to navigate these waters—and now he’s gone and fucked her at the breakfast table, which is the exact opposite of how he imagined it would be. Because he’s not a soft man but he wants to be soft with her.

Alfie can’t even remember the last time he met a woman brave enough to look him in the eye. But she’s still scared of the dark, ain’t she?

He drags a hand through his hair, shaking free from his thoughts, before checking his watch.

It’s been ten fucking minutes.

Ishmael catches his attention, raising an eyebrow as he waits for further instructions. “Sir?”

“Just … fuck off, mate.” Alfie grunts in defeat.

“Yes, sir.”

— • — • —

Livy is flashing a brilliant smile as she chats with David, a young Jewish baker, and it’s the only reason Alfie hasn’t crossed the room and smashed that fucker’s teeth in.

He told his men to keep their distance and mind their fucking manners because they’re all dirty bastards, and he should know because so is he. But it’s clear that Livy’s been lonely, and she likes people even though most are idiots, and well, he can only keep her hidden away for so fucking long.

So here he is, showing considerable restraint and letting her flutter around the bakery like a fucking butterfly, but it doesn’t mean he‘s happy about it. He’ll be sending her out when Thomas arrives because he does not trust those gentile fuckers, and he’ll be keeping a close eye on her in the meantime.

In fact, he’s just about talked himself into going for a little ‘stroll’ when Ollie comes rushing around the corner.

“Mr Shelby has just arrived, sir. His men are nearly here.”

“Well that’s just fucking wonderful, ain’t it?” Alfie pinches his brow and allows himself a moment to grumble before pulling back his shoulders and getting on with business. “What I need, mate, is for you to take Livy outside. Near the loading dock, yeah? Just keep away from the fucking Blinders til we’re done here. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes, sir.” But then he hesitates. “But … what am I supposed to do with her?”

“Do with her?” Alfie repeats incredulously. “Do with her? Fucking hell, use your head, lad. Let her sample the bread, I don’t care. Just keep her occupied and away from these cunts.”

Ollie nods meekly as he thinks of the fiery redhead who Mr Solomons is clearly very fond of, and silently prays he doesn’t end up in a barrel before the end of the day.

— • — • —

“There are fucking rules here, yeah? There are fucking rules for a fucking reason. Quite simply, they have to be obeyed.”

Alfie’s powerful voice echos against the barrels as he stands before the new bakers, who are lined up like soldiers. He’s looking them over, ready to elaborate on the fucking rules—when he spots Ollie from the corner of his eye.

The lad’s standing by the door, shuffling from foot to foot, clearly trying to get his attention.

Alfie decides to ignore him.

“Rule number one. The distinction between bread and rum, yeah, is not discussed ...”

Ollie continues to fidget, looking more and more distressed, while Alfie tightens his grip on his cane and tries to resist the urge to smash someone in the face.

He carries on with his speech.

“… You do not go anywhere near them because Jewish women for you are off the fucking menu. The redhead too. Keep your fucking eyes off that one unless you want me to cut them out with a fucking spoon.”

Ollie looks ready to piss himself now. He locks eyes with Alfie and not so subtly nods his head in the direction of the door.

Alfie imagines breaking Ollie’s fingers, snapping them one by one, but he keeps a straight face as he wraps things up.

“All right, that's it, yeah.” Alfie turns and nods at Thomas. “Forgive me, I interrupted you.”

Then he calmly walks out of the room with Ollie hot on his heels, waiting until the door shuts before he spins around and slams the taller man against the wall.

“What the fuck is so important that you can’t wait five fucking minutes?” Alfie roars, just inches from his face. “You come running in, yeah? Like a puppy keen for a fucking piss. That it mate? You need me to hold it for ya?”

“No boss, it’s just the girl—“

“What about the girl?” Alfie slams him again, twisting the fabric of his shirt in his iron grip. He’s growling now. “What about the girl?”

Ollie’s eyes are wide and his face is turning red, but he manages to croak, “She’s with a friend, sir. She says he’s an old friend?”

Alfie drops him abruptly. “What the fuck do you mean she’s with a friend?”

“I think you should see for yourself, sir.”

There’s a pause before the silence is violently shattered by Alfie as he kicks a nearby crate, sending empty bottles flying against the concrete. His boots crunch against the glass as he storms off towards the loading dock, leaving Ollie unsure of whether to follow or not.

But then he hears the door open, and Livy’s voice rings out —“Stop, Johnny! That tickles!” — and Ollie decides it would be wise to make a hasty retreat.

— • — • —

Alfie bursts through the door, raging like a bull, before coming to a sudden stop because he cannot believe his fucking eyes.

He has to rub his brow and give his head a small shake before his brain will fully accept that there’s a man—a fucking gypsy—with his hands on Livy’s bare fucking thigh.

“C’mon lass, I know what you’re hiding up there.” The man pulls Livy closer, hands fumbling with her skirt. “Let Johnny have a wee look.”

The world goes red and all control goes out the window. Alfie’s across the room in three strides and his strong hands are inches from snapping the pikey’s neck—when the strange man suddenly stands, grinning triumphantly as he thrusts three small blades in the air.

“Ah-ha! I knew it, Livy Lou! Some things never change, eh? Up for a bit of sport, love?”

The man—Johnny apparently—wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and Alfie is so fucking shocked that he temporarily forgets about wringing the fucker’s neck.

Because … Livy Lou?

The woman in question responds by throwing her head back in laughter and wrapping an arm around Johnny. She’s wiping tears from her eyes when she finally notices Alfie, and she looks startled, as if surprised to see him in his own fucking bakery.

“Oh! Hello there, darling!”

Livy looks ready to say more, but then a loud, very unladylike burp escapes from her lovely red lips. Her eyes go round with shock and her hands fly to her mouth before she dissolves into giggles all over again.

It suddenly dawns on Alfie that Ollie is a dumb cunt because Livy has most definitely been “sampling” the bread.

He takes a deep fucking breath.

“Livy, love—who the fuck is this?” Alfie grits his teeth and prays for patience as he’s tested for what must be the hundredth time today.

“Ah, Johnny Dogs. Making friends, eh?”

A familiar voice rings out from the doorway, and now Alfie knows he’s being punished. He always knew that he wouldn’t see heaven in this life or the next, but fuck, he wasn’t expecting to find himself at the gates of hell on this particular afternoon. But that’s clearly what’s happening because he turns around and finds Thomas fucking Shelby leaning casually against the door frame, lighting a cigarette and looking entirely too fucking pleased with himself.

But now is not the time to dwell on his eternal damnation because he still needs to regain some semblance of control over this fucking shite show.

“Oi! Tommy, this pikey one of yours?” Alfie demands accusingly while pointing a thick finger in Johnny’s direction.

But before Thomas can respond, Livy stumbles forward and all of Alfie’s hopes for ‘control’ go out the window (along with his self-respect) because she pinches him by the ear and drags him down to face her.

“Alfie Solomons, you behave yourself! Don’t use that nasty word!” She attempts a stern glare but her glassy eyes and rosy cheeks lessen the impact. But she does still manage a firm smack to his shoulder for good measure.

“Ow! The fuck … “

Alfie trails off when he hears an amused snort from Thomas, and now he’s seriously debating who to strangle first. But before he can decide, Johnny jumps in with another fucking revelation.

“Tom! This here’s Livy Lou—the lass used to camp with the Lees.”

“That right, Johnny?” Thomas tilts his head and nods slightly, digesting this new information as he inhales deeply from his cigarette.

Fuck this just keeps getting better.

Alfie ignores the two men and turns to Livy, catching her cheeks between his hands and gently stroking her face—before asking incredulously, “You were living with pikeys?”

“Alfie!”

Livy swats at him again, but this time she loses her balance and pitches forward. Alfie manages to catch her before she ruins her pretty face on the concrete and he drags her back upright, securing her tight against him with a firm grip on her hip. She frowns, but then her fingers find their way down the front of his shirt and all seems forgiven when she starts fondling the buttons.

“Yes, Alfie, for a while. The Lee’s were friends with Daddy,” she explains.

“Aye, William was a good man. We were all sorry to hear that he passed, love.” Johnny removes his hat and lowers his eyes in respect.

“Thank you, Johnny.” Livy’s voice is quiet, but then she hiccups and breaks into a wide smile. “So shall we have a throw then?”

She tries to wiggle free, but Alfie only wraps his arm tighter around her waist and pulls her back. “What you need a fucking glass of water, pet.”

Livy pouts and Johnny steps in, misinterpreting Alfie's concern. “Don’t ya worry ‘bout Livy Lou. She’s a crack shot, I taught her me’self!”

He thumbs his jacket proudly before demonstrating his skill by flinging a knife, sending it dangerously close to Alfie’s head. Livy cheers and claps in delight when it lands smack dab in the centre of the barrel behind them, squealing as she holds out her hand.

“My turn—“

“FUCKING ENOUGH!”

Alfie‘s pretty sure that he’s never shown this kind of restraint in his entire fucking life. But every man has his limits, and his have now been well and truly surpassed.

“I know you’re all enjoying this little fucking circus, yeah?” Alfie releases Livy and turns slowly, pointing dangerously at each member of the impromptu gathering. “But there’ll be no more throwing knives, no more fucking drinking, and no more gypo fucking nonsense in my FUCKING bakery!

“Tom, get your man out of my fucking sight before I put my cane up his arse. Then meet me in my fucking office, yeah? And you—Livy, love—you need a fucking nap.”

And with that, Alfie throws Livy over his shoulder and heads for the door, while Livy blows kisses at Johnny and giggles madly.

Thomas steps out of the way and takes another drag of his cigarette, his face expressionless except for the slight twitch of the lip as he watches the door slam shut behind them.

— • — • —

“Not one fucking word, mate.“

Alfie has his feet on the desk and he’s casually reading the bookie reports. But he can sense the Blinder lurking in the doorway and knows his eyes are on Livy, who’s snoring softly on the sofa, tucked securely under Alfie’s jacket.

“Know that I will not hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes after that little display earlier,” Alfie threatens, still refusing to look up.

“Alfie …” Thomas puts his hands up in mock surrender before taking a seat. “Johnny’s just an old friend, nothing more.”

“Mate, I don’t want to hear about your gypsy brethren, you’re all fucking cousins and whatnot,” growls Alfie as he finally puts down the reports and removes his glasses. Then he props his elbows on the desk and steeples his fingers. “Talk to me about the Italians, Tom.”

Thomas takes his time removing a cigarette from a silver case and rolling it across his lips before lighting it.

“As we agreed, we’ve taken their pubs and clubs—including the Eden Club. I understand the girl was a dancer.”

Alfie sits up straight and eyes Thomas suspiciously. “What the fuck do you know about the girl?”

“I know Sabini wants her dead.” He pauses to bring his cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply before continuing, his words cutting through a cloud of smoke. “I know she killed one of his men, in the lavatory, with a knife to his chest. Seems Johnny taught her well, eh Alfie?”

Alfie narrows his eyes but says nothing, so Thomas continues on.

“Could use a girl like her back at the Club, I hear she was very popular. She’ll be under our protection and Arthur will keep an eye on her.”

“Fuck off. No. End of conversation.”

“I see …” Thomas raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “Just thought we might be doing you a favour, Alfie.” He tilts his head slightly and rolls his eyes towards the factory floor. “Not exactly the place for a lady, eh?”

“Let me worry about the girl, Tom. If you want to do me a fucking favour, you can finish things with Sabini.” Alfie picks up the abandoned bookie report and throws it across the desk, before leaning forward and prodding it with a thick finger. “What’s going on with the fucking races?”

“Patience, Alfie.”

Alfie snorts. He’s been nothing but patient today.

“There hasn’t been much resistance and once we burn their licenses at Epsom, Sabini will be finished,” concludes Thomas. “We don’t anticipate any trouble.”

“Well, that’s that done.” Alfie wipes his hands before pushing back his chair. “So now why don’t you fuck off?”

Thomas reaches forward to extinguish his cigarette but ignores the dismissal.

“I have a new proposal for you, Alfie.”

“And what‘s that, Tom? You want me to set you up with a little stand, so you can read fortunes down by the river?”

Alfie gives him a hard stare, but as always, Thomas is unaffected.

“Liverpool, Alfie.”

“Liverpool.”

“Do know Bernard McCall and the High Rip Gang?”

Fucking hell.

The last thing Alfie wants is to listen to another fucking ‘proposal’ from this man. He’s tired and he just wants to go home and, if he’s lucky, bury himself in Livy and let her make up for all the headaches she’s caused him today.

But instead, he’s stuck in his shitty office listening to some ridiculous scheme involving a bunch of mad cunts from up north.

“Yeah, mate, I’ve heard of him. But tell me why I should give two fucks about a gang of scousers, eh?

“They control the docks, Alfie. And ships from Liverpool go straight to America.“

“So do ships from London.”

Alfie is quick with an offhand remark, but the gears in his head have started turning. He can see the benefits of expanding to Liverpool—with the help of the Blinders—and Thomas only confirms his thoughts.

“It’s about control. We expand our network and we have more leverage, which means more rum on more ships to America.”

Alfie sighs because he knows Thomas has a point, and even though it’s fucking late, business is business, innit?

So he opens his desk and removes a bottle of whiskey along with two glasses.

“Alright, Thomas. Looks like we’ve got more to discuss after all.”

A/N: I googled Liverpool gangs and the High Rip Gang came up. Apparently, Bernard McCall was a real member but obviously, this is all fiction. Also, my British hubby tells me scouser is slang for people from Liverpool.

#alfie solomons #peaky blinders alfie #Alfie x original character #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie x oc #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons fanfiction #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fic #livy x alfie

65 notes · View notes

feymaid · 8 months

Text

Sebastian really out there killing Hawke with all the face holding despite the no kiss rule.

#there are so many reasons she could be crying but let’s just say she’s got something in her eye and he’s helping her get it out #anyways fellow seb mancers we are gods strongest soldiers #sebastian vael #alfie hawke #alphonsa hawke #sebhawke #Sebastian x hawke #dragon age 2 #dragon age #my art #my oc

127 notes · View notes

justrainandcoffee · 2 months

Text

The one with Alfie owning an erotic bakery shop.

Today I thought about it and how I failed as Alfie and Rosie shipper (and creator) by not giving them an erotic bakery shop 🤣. Now they have one.

I didn't name her, you can imagine this as reader if you want.

Just a blurb.

For obvious reasons the actual moodboard is beneath the cut:

"I think you misspelled 'Happiness'" his wife said, unable to hide her smile.

"Nah, it's perfectly written, sweetheart."

"You know that our girl can't see this, right? Because you are going to explain her that."

"Fuckin' 'ell, love. The girl won't see my art. Want to see my last creation?"

"I'm afraid, but go ahead."

She followed his husband to the back of their bakery and saw him opening a cupboard. He put a cake in front of her.

"Is that.. Is this your..? You baked a cake using you cock as reference?"

"Ya recognise it, mmh? Well, yeah. It's my fucking bakery. And I'm proud of what God gave me. I sent one to Tommy."

"You sent one to Tommy?!"

"A dick for a dick."

"Oh my god, Alfie..." Then she looked at him "Can I taste the cock?"

"The cake or the actual one?"

"Your choice."

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #tom hardy #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x oc #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you

102 notes · View notes

queenquinzel715 · 1 year

Text

1. Alfie Solomons 18+

Word count 3,175

1. Alfie Solomons 18+

(Y/n) p.o.v

I've had enough of Small Heath, Birmingham, so I told Poll I'm going to London to visit Ada. Granted I was staying with my younger sister, but I spent most of my time with old friends that moved out of Birmingham. They told me about this club, it's supposedly the rage of London, and I'm dying to see just how big this place is.

"Hurry (y/n)! The car is here." My friend, Mildred yells for me.

"I'm coming!" I rush past Ada with a kiss on the cheek. "Be back in the morning Ada!" I yell over my shoulder.

"All because your name is Shelby doesn't mean you have to act like one!" I hear Ada as I climb into the car.

As Mildred, Joan, and I rode in the car we told stories of our lives, and we'd laugh. We finally got to the club, and I'm so thankful no one knows who I am, or my family. We walk in, check our coats, and immediately I get an idea of what kind of club this was. There were people doing drugs before you even got to the main club part, along with people having sex against the wall. I might as well have stayed in Small Heath for this. The only difference was this was high class instead of the dirty Garrison.

As the night went on I lost each friend to guys, one with snow, and the other to dancing. I stayed at our table, relaxing against my seat, just enjoying the music, and my drink. That was until some high-end guy sat in the seat next to me, and moved it closer. I slightly move to the side to take a sip of my drink, trying my best to ignore him, but he takes my drink out of my hand.

"You shouldn't be alone." He states. "It's not safe for a woman to be here alone."

"I'm fine." I say in a monotone.

"Why don't we get a drink? I can get you the top stuff." He boosts.

"I have the top shelf. Thank you" I state trying to reach for my glass.

He grabs my arm while he stands, lifting me up with him. I try to pull my arm away, but his grip hardens.

"Dance with me." He commands.

Before I can curse at him a big fist collides with his jaw, making him fall to the ground. I turn to my savior to see a man with a beard, top hat, and a cane. He moves to stand in front of me.

"Right, you say you're sorry to the lady." His cockney accent throws me.

"I'm not…" the man stops when he looks up. "Sorry ma'am." He then runs away.

"Names Alfie Solomons, love. " He tips his hat to me.

"(Y/n)." I purposely leave my last name out.

"You need a new drink, love. What you havin'?" He points to my spilt glass.

"Gin and water." I told him. I could tell it surprised him.

"That's fucking awful. Let me get you a proper drink." He sirs as he holds two fingers to the bartender.

"So, what has a gentleman, like yourself, in a club like this?" I smirk at him.

"I could ask the same, love." He chuckles.

We are a couple drinks down. Apparently the rum in London is a lot smoother than in Birmingham. We laugh at each other's stories. I say goodbye to my friends when they leave with their own men.

"I couldn't possibly drink another one." I giggle as I move the half empty glass away.

"Let me help you." He helps me stand straight as we walk out.

Alfie walks me to a cab that's sitting waiting outside. I laugh at myself as I slip into the seat. I lay my head against Alfie's shoulder as he tells the driver to go he moves to rest on my crossed knee, and the other over his cane. I run my hand along his arm until it wraps around his bicep, and the other rests on the top of his rough hand. He flips his hand to actually hold my hand. We rode in comfortable silence until I eventually leaned my head on his shoulder.

When we pull up to his hotel he pays the driver, and helps me out. I keep hold of his hand as he guides me up the stairs. Once we get to his door his hands go to my waist to pull me close to him. I run my fingers in his beard as I smile up at him as we lean into each other. We kiss like we haven't seen each other in years, like we needed each other. He starts to kiss along my jaw.

"Al…Alfie please open the door." I softly moan into his ear.

He gives me a smirk as he takes a small step back, but doesn't let go of me as he turns to the door. I squeal from being picked up from the waist, and I hear the door slam behind me. I giggle as I'm set on my feet again. I turn to Alfie, playfully hitting his arm.

"You awful man." I laugh.

He chuckles as he throws his jacket off letting it fall over a chair while his cane falls to the floor. He grabs me by my waist to pull me to his chest. I smile up at him as I move his suspenders down his arms. He backs us to the bed making us fall onto the bed, with my knees on his hips. I gasp when he starts kissing my shoulder to my neck. I grab the back of his neck as he starts moving his hand up my leg, bringing my skirt up with his hand. I rest my hands in his hair while I open my legs for him to kneel between them. He locks his eyes with me as he pulls my underwear down. With a tight grip on my thighs he begins to kiss along the inside of my thigh then doing the same to the other side. I tried to lean on my elbows to watch him, but the closer he gets the more intense I feel. I fall on my back with soft moans. He finally is close enough, but all he does is kiss my lower lips with a quick kiss. I almost whine, but it stops in my throat when he licks up my opening.

"Alfie." I reach for his hand on my hip.

He entwined our fingers, giving me a slight squeeze before completely devouring me like a starved man. My back arches into the air as I grasp the top of his head. I've never had a man do this, this good before. My thighs already start to shake from him playing with my clit.

"Alfie, please! I…" my head falls back as I beg.

I feel his free hand run up my stomach to my chest as he sucks my clit while pulling away. He uses his hand to hold me down while I shake under him, a moaning mess. While I catch my breath he stands to look over me, and slides his pants off. I quickly slide my dress over my head as he crawls between my legs. I rub my hands over his shoulders as he gets in between my legs. My body is just melted, a puddle under him. I actually need him. I've never needed anyone this way before, and it's throwing my mind off. I can't keep any sense to me while he slowly slides into me. He doesn't stop until his hips are against mine, and he leans down, his groans vibrating my shoulder.

"Fuck, love." He starts to move.

I move my hips along with his as he moves faster. He knows every spot like I've known him for years. The faster he moves the louder the bed squeaks, the harder I grip his arm, and he tightly squeezes me to his chest. I bite my lip to hold my moans in, but he rams hard enough to reach deeper than I could ever imagine. I have to hide my mouth in his neck as I moan out.

"Alfie. Please." I beg into his neck.

His movements become sloppy, and I can feel myself tighten around him, feeling every grove of him. With a deep groan and another deep ram we release at the same time. I tried to catch my breath, but Alfie pulling me to his chest didn't help. I usually leave after I relax for a moment, however his arms are so warm I fall asleep.

I wake up at some point in the morning, and begin to slowly leave. I have to get out of here before he gets up or it's going to be awkward. I don't have many one nights, but I know the rules. I get back to Adas while she is at work, so I just go back to bed for a couple hours. I'm woken by the phone ringing.

"Ada Thorne residents." I answer.

"(Y/n), I need you back soon. Come straight to the Arrow House." Tommy orders before hanging up.

"Oh yes Tommy. No problem Tommy." I grumble to myself hanging up the phone.

He's such a pain in the ass. I tell Ada Tommy's orders, and she just rolls her eyes as she helps me pack. I give her and Karl a final hug as I board the train. I can't stand how I have to follow Tommy's rules, and orders. I swear I'm gonna smack him one day.

Coming into the station I see Tommy's driver waiting for me, and helps with my bags. Of course Thomas Shelby couldn't meet his sister at the station. The drive to Arrow was peaceful, and all I thought about was Alfie. I start feeling guilty for leaving, for some reason. Pulling into the long driveway of the house I roll my eyes at Tommy's new living.

"(Y/n) welcome back. How's Ada?" Polly asks as she helps me step out of the car.

"Ada is fine, Karl is driving her mad with his shenanigans, but overall fine." I laugh with her while we walk inside.

"Well Tommy of course was ahead of himself, because his meeting isn't until tomorrow." She walks me toward the living room. "I told him you would already be here, but of course he didn't listen." She lights her cigarette as she talks.

"It's okay I wasn't really doing anything." I shrug.

She hums in reply, but Tommy stops her from actually saying anything. He doesn't even acknowledge us here, he just pours him a drink.

"(Y/n) my business partner will be here tomorrow afternoon. I need you there to have the papers in order." He simply tells me.

"Why can't Lizzie help you?"

"Because I have you doing something else." He walks away with no response from me.

The rest of the night I talked with Polly. I went to bed dreaming of ocean water. I woke to Polly shaking me awake for breakfast. I took my time getting ready, and setting the papers in front of Tommy making sure he saw I put them there. John, Arthur, and Tommy start talking business, so I just leave.

Around two in the afternoon I was called into Tommy's office by Polly. She has hard eyes when I see her, but I should've been listening to the voice in the office. As I walk in everything goes quiet.

"(Y/n)." When I hear that deep voice again I almost fall to my needs, but instead my head snaps up to the man standing next to my brother's desk.

"Al…what?" I try to gather myself, but of of course a girl can't do that when she has brothers.

"How the fuck do you know our sister?" Arthur stands from his seat.

Alfie just looks at me in shock as I do him, maybe in deeper shock. I look at Tommy as he stares at me. He knew. He knew, and that's why he called me to come here. My head begins to spin as John and Arthur start yelling, so I just run out of the room.

"(Y/n)!" I hear multiple voices call behind me.

I run to the side of the house, squatting down, and just take deep breaths. I slept with their business partner, and I might actually feel something for him. I already know it's not going to end well for me or Alfie. I stay leaning against the house until I hear my name being called.

"Love where are you?" I hear Alfie's voice call with the others.

I take a deep breath before walking out. Polly, John, and Alfie are watching me walk toward them. Alfie looks my body over with sad eyes before turning to his car. Polly puts her arms around me as Alfie drives away. I know we weren't together, but it still hurt he left.

"It'll turn out right (y/n)." John rubs my arm.

We walk back into the office we're a fuming Arthur is sitting with a calm looking Tommy. Polly sits me in a chair in front of the desk, and sits next to me as John stands behind my chair. The look Tommy is giving me is like he's looking at every depth of my soul. He clears his throat before light a cigarette, and turning his eyes to Arthur.

"His name is Alfie Solomons, and he runs the Jews in Camden Town. We started working with him when we went against Sabini, but Alfie decided he wanted the Italians." Tommy clears his throat. "You know everything after that, but he hasn't done anything lately." He looks at Arthur when he scoffs. "I need to know if you knew him."

"No, I swear we met at the club in London." I tell the truth.

"Do you care for him?" Tommy asks.

"I… well.."

"Who cares?! You go near him again, I'll cut him." Arthur storms out.

"Answer me." Tommy pushes.

"Thomas enough." Polly steps in, but Tommy just stares me down.

"I don't know." I shrug.

"You don't know, but yet you slept with him." He scoffs.

"Oh please like you are the Virgin Mary." I roll my eyes. "I did know he was a gang leader or something like that. He stood up for me and bought me a drink. He was different." I say the last to myself but of course Polly heard, and snapped her head to me.

"Alright that's enough. She hasn't done anything wrong,Thomas. What she chooses is her choice." Polly tells Tommy, and gives him the eyes that meant that the conversation is over.

She walks us up to my room, and shuts the door when I sit on my bed.

"Now it's my job to tell you what he said." She smirks at my reaction, and hands me a folded paper. "If you want to call him he will answer, and business is business not this." With that she left.

Over the next couple days I keep thinking of Alfie, so when the guys are gone I use the library phone to call Alfie, and when his deep force answers I freeze.

"Hello!" He calls again with frustration.

"Alfie?" I quietly answered.

"(Y/n)? Wha…are you okay?" He sounds so flustered.

"I'm okay. I just decided to call you." I hear something move in the background.

"I'm glad you called. I knew you couldn't resist me, love.'' He chuckles along with my giggles.

We talk until I hear a while blowing in the background. He grumbles under his breath.

"It's quitting time, love. I have to go."

"Oh okay." I pause for a moment. "Where do you work?"

"A bread factory in Camden Town." He tells me, but a loud bang is heard before I could respond. "Love I gotta go, I work with idiots."

"Okay bye Alfie." I giggle.

"Bye love." He hangs up.

I turn around to leave with a giddy smile on my face, but Tommy leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

"I'll deal with Arthur, just don't lie to us." He walked away before I could hug him.

I rush to my room, and throw things into a small bag. I have to get back to London. I tell my family where I was going, and the only thing Polly tells me is to be careful. The train pulls into the London station, and I see Ada waiting for me. When she sees me she gives me a smirk with her hands on her hips.

"I told you just because you are named Shelby doesn't mean you act like them." We laugh as we get to her car.

The next morning I got ready. I make sure everything is perfect before I get into the taxi. As the drive gets closer to where I'm going I begin to get nervous. What will happen? We stop close enough to the door. I knock on the big door almost getting hit with it when a scrawny man with an apron answers.

"I'm here for Mr. Solomons, the name's Shelby." I simply tell him.

He opens the door further for me, and I follow him through the bakery, up the stairs to Alfie's office. He points toward the door before going back down the stairs. I softly knock on the door before opening it slowly.

"What now, Ollie?" He doesn't look up from his papers until the click of my heels hit the floor as I walk to him. "What are you doing here, love?" I sit on the corner of his desk.

"Well I decided that I wanted to come see you, and that maybe we could talk somethings out." I nervously twist the bead on my dress.

"What is there to talk out? I assumed with your call the other day you were mine." He simply tells me as he stands.

"Well I guess so. I just…" He cages me with his arms.

"You wanted to see me." He finished for me. "I'm glad you're here." He kisses me deeply.

I stayed with Alfie for a whole week, and he almost had my brother banging down his door when he wouldn't let me leave. He ended up coming to Small Health for a few days until the smog got to him. After a couple of months of back and forth Alfie asked me to marry him. Arthur beat him up when we told everyone, but everything is overall okay. The day before my wedding Polly told me I was pregnant, and the baby was going to be famous. My sweet Sylvia was born. She was our angel. However our son Jack became a gang leader like his father. I love him to pieces, but he gives me heart failure.

252 notes · View notes