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torialeysha · 2 years

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Cold feet: Part 20

Exodus 21:24

When the night cries itself away Dyin' in the light of day Our endless love will remain Until we meet again - Song: if I should go before you - city and colour

“How long has it been?” You asked.

Adas hum vibrated from behind you as she stopped brushing your hair. “It’s been a week since the fight.”

Where the hell had 7 days gone? You were still staying at Thomas’ stately home which you now knew as Arley hall. Arthurs funeral had come and gone, which you didn’t attend out of respect as you felt you were to blame for his death, but still you mourned. The overwhelming sense of loss from all sides was suffocating. Leaving you with the terrible feeling of falling into a bottomless pit of utter despair. You had told Tommy everything you you could recollect, which he listened to stoically but hadn’t seen anything of him since. You kept yourself to yourself, rarely stepping out of the guest room. Most days not even bother getting out of the bed. The nights were worse than the days, endless hours of slipping in and out of consciousness, none of it restful due to the consistent flow of nightmares. Ada kept a close eye on you, checking in on you during the day and staying with you most nights. She gave you updates on Alfie and assured you he was on the mend. When you asked to see him she would go quiet and tell you she’d ask Tommy when she saw him.

“Have you heard anything?” You asked hopeful.

“No.”

“I want to see Alfie.” You demanded softly.

“I know you do.”

Her answer was once again frustrating. “Why am I not allowed to see him?”

“I don’t know. I’m just a messenger.” She sighed. The bed moved as she stood, busying herself with the tray of breakfast and tea which you had barely touched.

“Then I need to speak to Tommy.”

“Tommy’s busy. There’s a lot at play here, Y/N. The Changrettas are putting on the pressure. They’ve taken over Alfie and Sabini’s territory in London and they’re trying to do the same here. I’m not even sure we’re going to be able to stop them. You need to try and be patient.”

The hair on the back of your neck stood to attention. “They’ve taken Camden, the bakery? When?” You queried worriedly. “Is Ollie ok?”

“Yes… I telephoned him after the fight and told him what had happened. That you were safe…and to warn him to be careful.”

“I should have let him know myself. How careless of me.” You mumbled, guilt swamping you.

“Stop being so hard on yourself. You’ve got enough to contend with.”

“And so do you. You’ve lost, just like I have. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I didn’t want you to worry. You’re already not sleeping as it is. Did you get much rest last night?” She diverted quickly, unable to look you in the eyes. You couldn’t help the feeling that she was hiding something, maybe it was her grief for Arthur.

“Not really. That woman singing in the early hours didn’t help.” You admitted, unable to get the evocative tones of the sweet melody out of your head.

“Woman singing?” She questioned. “There’s only me, you and the kids staying here.”

“You didn’t hear it? I thought that Maybe it was the maid.”

“I highly doubt it.” She scoffed.

“Well I definitely heard it. It echoed down the hallway just before dawn.” You insisted upon seeing her dubious expression. She turned suddenly striding hastily towards the window.

“Come on! You need to get out of bed.” She demanded firmly flinging the curtains wide.

The brightness stung your tired eyes.

“I don’t feel like it.”

“You’re not spending another day in bed. Talking about hearing women singing? You’re starting to sound crazy and I won’t allow it.” She tore the covers off you, threatening to drag you out if you didn’t move. Saving her the trouble you huffed loudly and hobbled on stiff legs out of bed.

“There’s some clothes of mine I’ve left for you on the dresser. Go and get ready while I wait here.”

“It looks like it’s going to rain.” You told her hoping it would change her mind.

“Then we’ll take umbrellas.”

Thankfully the grey, rain filled clouds held off during your walk. Ada linked her arm with yours guiding you carefully across the uneven grassy ground which was soft and damp with the early morning dew. Birds chirped overhead and the occasional neighing snort erupted from the stables on the other side of the field. You inhaled deeply. The the crisp, fresh air filling your dusty lungs. The tranquility of the peaceful morning stroll seemed to settle your heavy heart and for that you were grateful. You hiked a circle around the grounds silently and proceeded back on to the gravelly path of the driveway that lead to the front of the mansion.As you approached you noticed that there were 2 cars sitting idle and 3 silhouettes standing on the steps in front of the open door.

“Who’s that?” You asked.

“I’m not sure…” Ada replied as curious as you.

Your pace quickened, your eyes straining to get a better view of the figures.

As you got closer to the gates of the driveway you could see the two strangers next to Tommy clearer. You couldn’t place one of them but you was sure it was one of Alfie’s men, the other was a familiar lanky lad with thick, black curly hair that was squashed beneath his kippah.

“It’s Ollie!” You exclaimed. Unlinking your arm from Adas and rushing towards him.

You came at him from the side taking him by surprise when you flung yourself around him in an embrace.

“Ollie. It’s so good to see you.”

His chest shuddered as he snaked his arm tentatively around your waist.

“Alfie’s alive, Ollie. He’s alive!” You sobbed in to his collar.

“I know.” He sighed softly. His dejected tone caused you to pull away from him. Your eyes studying the grim setting of his face.

“What are you doing here?” You asked suddenly suspicious.

“I’m here to take you home.” He replied matter of factly.

“Home?”

“Back to Margate.”

“With Alfie.” It wasn’t a question.

Both Tommy and Ollie stayed quiet.

“I’m not going anywhere without Alfie.” You insisted sternly. Your gaze drifting between the two men.

“You don’t have much choice.” Tommy mumbled.

“This is what Alfie wants Y/N.” Ollie spoke over Thomas.

“How would you know?” You frowned at Ollie in confusion.

“He told me.”

“You’ve seen him?”

Ollie nodded.

“So Ollie can see him but I can’t?” You accused Tommy.

“Alfie didn’t want to see you.” Thomas replied bluntly.

“What? I-I don’t understand.” Your head spun wildly.

“This has all been arranged. It’s for the best Y/N.” Ollie assured.

Your breathing accelerated anxiously.

“Arranged? By who? Alfie? Then he’s not in his right mind, it’s the drugs talking. No, no! I’m not going Ollie.” You stated firmly. “I want to see Alfie now.”

“It’s not going to change anything.” Ollie grumbled expecting your reaction.

“I want to see Alfie!” You screamed over him.

Ollie looked to Tommy.

“It don’t matter to me.” He shrugged. “Let her have her goodbye.”

Your body shuddered at his coldness “Goodbye?” You sputtered.

“I’ll take her with Ollie.” Ada interjected, appearing by your side, her gentle touch causing you to jump.

“That’s settled then.” Tommy sighed turning to Ollie. “Now get the fuck off of my land.”

As the car pulled up at the entrance of the hospital you begun to shake. What was waiting for you? And how much more could you take before you broke completely.

“Y/N?” Ada called softly next to you. “Look at me.”

You obliged.

“Pull yourself together.” She dabbed beneath your eyes with a hanky at tears you weren’t even aware was there. Then she gently pinched your cheeks a couple of times to bring some colour to your drained face.

“I’ll come up with you and wait outside.” Ada assured, stealing a glance at Ollie in the front passenger seat.

“He’s not himself.” Ollie warned. “Best take anything he says with a pinch of salt.”

You thought about his advice for a moment then realised… “I don’t know what I’m going to say to him.” The urgency to see Alfie had disappeared, replaced by fear and uncertainty.

“You’ll work it out when you see him.” Ada assured pushing your hair behind your ear.

You nodded meekly and exited the car. following Ada through the bustling entrance and up the stairs to a level that was a lot quieter. The two peaky lads standing opposite you immediately gave away the room in which Alfie was recovering. The boys stood to attention as you approached. Eyeing you up and down with disdain.

“Let her in.” Ada ordered them. They exchanged glances, unsure. She rolled her eyes and barged past them to open the door for you. You took a deep breath and entered.

Alfie was sat propped up in bed, his right eye was closed, the left covered by a weeping dressing. You thought he was asleep until he spoke.

“Bout time you showed up, this bandage ain’t gonna change its fucking self.” He moaned, eye still shut.

“It’s me.” You said softly. His right eye shot open and fell upon you. He was a sorry sight, gaunt and pale. But it felt so good to see him that you didn’t know wether to laugh or cry.

“Yahalom?” His expression bounced from soft to hard in the blink of an eye. “Are you really ‘ere or am I hallucinating?”

“I’m really here, my love.” You confirmed.

“Even though I didn’t want you to come?…Well I can’t say I’m surprised. You never have done as you’re told.” He sighed. “You look like shit.”

His words hurt although you were sure it was the truth if you looked anything how you felt. But he was a fine one to talk. You’ve never seen him look so weak - helpless, just like you. You cleared your dry throat to reply when a nurse entered.

“Here she is!” Alfie sung “been waiting for you all morning treacle.” There was something in his tone that rubbed you the wrong way.

The nurse blushed and strode passed you, barely acknowledging your presence. You couldn’t help but notice that she was young and pretty, flouncing around in a blithe manor that you resented instantly.

“I’m here to tend to your wounds Mr. Solomon’s.”

“That all?” He asked cockily. “That’s a shame.” His flirting - harmless or otherwise, was just another blow to your already winded ego. The blushing nurse giggled causing your blood to boil. Having had enough of the embarrassing spectacle, you rushed to the door and flung it wide.

“Leave us!” You ordered her harshly.

Her eyes flitted between you and Alfie in confusion.

“But his woun-“

“It can wait.” You told her abruptly.

“…You heard ‘er.” Alfie finally chimed in when she still hesitated.

With a huff she stuffed the fresh gauze back in to her apron and shoved past you. You closed the door and turned on Alfie.

“I know what you’re doing and it’s not gonna work so pack it in now.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about?” He exclaimed.

“You’re being spiteful on purpose, trying to push me away again. I might have fell for it before but not this time.”

He paused then smiled guiltily.

“Go home, Yahalom.”

“You are my home!” You told him on the brink of tears. “You’re hurting me with this Alfie, please stop.” You begged him.

“Hurtin’ you?” He erupted then winced. “Do you know how much it fuckin’ hurts me, you seeing me like this?”

“What?!” You spat incredulously.

“This ain’t how I wanted you to remember me.” He gritted.

“Remember you? I won’t have to remember you. You’re alive! You’re here in front of me right now! You, Ollie and Tommy, how you’re all carrying on is making no sense.”

“Not much does in my world, Yahalom. I’ve told you before. The best way I can explain it to you is an eye for an eye.”

“You can’t be serious. You’re telling me Tommy’s kept you alive just to kill you?” You choked.

“Right, because he wants to be the one who kills me. My blood for his.”

“You’re wrong.” You whispered unconvincingly, dread pulling at your insides. “Arthur’s dead because of me. Because you were protecting me. If the blame should be on anyone’s head it should be mine.”

“Oi! Now listen ‘ere, none of this was your fault, right?”

“How can you say that? Arthur, Ishmael, Daniel. They’re all dead because of me.”

“Ishmael and Daniel should have done their job properly and handled it. What happened to them was their own doin’.”

“They were only followed because I did a runner.”

“And who insisted you did a runner, ay? Me! Now I ain’t gonna tell you again, Y/N. Your hands are clean. Any fault lands on my ‘ead, right.”

“Why did you do a deal with them, Alf? Before they took me? Why did you even entertain it?”

He paused, his jaw clenching.

“…I was testing ‘em out. Seeing what they wanted. I weren’t gonna go through with it.”

“Bollocks.” You accused boldly. “More like they made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

“If you think you know then why fucking ask? Aye?... I was tryin’ to set Ollie up weren’t I? And yeah, I added a cut for myself. I was angry, right, pissed off at Tommy that he dragged us in to his fucked up shit heap. I weren’t gonna go through with it. It was-“

“It was foolish and greedy is what it was. How did you even think this would end well for us?”

“How many more times I gotta say it? There’s no us about it. Any repercussions are on me.”

“You don’t get it do you?” You smirked humourlessly. “Anything that hurts you hurts me. If you die-“ your voice wobbled. “then so does a part of me.”

“Of course I fucking get it. Everything that’s led us to where we are now, yeah, has been me tryin’ to protect you. Because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“But it’s not working is it? You wrapping me in cotton wool, deciding what I can and can’t handle, it’s caused nothing but grief!”

There was a long frustrating silence. Then in typical Alfie style he changed the subject.

“What happened when they took you?” His voice was low, menacing. His question taking you by surprise.

“Who?” You stalled, angling away from him defensively.

“You know who. Them 2 days they ‘ad you. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“You’ve always been a terrible liar, Yahalom.” He sighed.

You paused, composing yourself from the fresh memories that still haunted you. You shook your head to banish them, finally turning back to Alfie who was staring ahead into space.

“Look at me.” You ordered him softly. Hesitantly he did so. “Nothing happened.” You stressed again. “Charles.” Your mouth couldn’t help but struggle around the name. “He couldn’t even look at me when he found out. I was locked in a room until the fight. The journey to Birmingham was the only time I was alone with him.” You lied as convincingly as you could muster.

He grunted, thinking for a moment and then to your relief let it go.

“You need to go, Yahalom. You and that baby of mine. Get out of this shit ‘ol. You’ll be safe. I’ve sorted it with Ollie.”

That’s when you lost it completely. Every ounce of composure you summoned fled your body in an instant. You begun to tremble, your lips quivering uncontrollably, a shaky breath later you managed to pluck up enough courage to speak.

“It’s just me.” Your whispered, brow furrowed still not coming to terms with it yourself.

“What?” He shuffled in the bed giving you his full attention.

“I lost-“ your voice broke. Another painfully shaky breath left your lips. “I lost the baby… I’m so sorry.” Your tear flooded eyes lifted to Alfies timidly. He was stunned. His face becoming tighter and brightening with rage. You waited for him to say something but he couldn’t speak. He was speechless, looking through you. The painful silence was more than you could take.

“I’ve let you down.” You squeaked inaudibly, the words cutting your throat like blunt razor blades.

“What?” He growled. His brow furrowing in your direction. You shook your head unable to repeat it.

“C’mere.” He commanded. Opening his arms.

You flew to him, making him winced as you buried yourself in to his chest, when you made to move he held you tighter. You closed your eyes, breathing him in greedily. Being in his arms was the most at peace you had felt in days. There’s no way you could let Tommy take him from you.

“So now you need to understand I can’t lose you aswell. I won’t allow it. I’ll make Tommy see sense-“

“You’re wasting your time, Yahalom.” He sighed.

“So you’re just giving up?”

“Na… I’m counting my blessings. The assurance of your safety is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“…All I’ve ever wanted is you.” You whispered back.

His chest rose harshly then shuddered violently against your head. His breaths coming in short violent bursts as he tried to hold it together. It was shocking to witness, in all the years you had known him you’d never seen him so fractured and powerless. It changed something inside of you, reinforced your determination and courage to be strong like Alfie had been so many times for you in the past. You wouldn’t let this be it. You’d fight, do anything you could to change Tommys mind because it’s what Alfie would do for you. You pulled yourself up from his chest and wiped at your wet face. Leaning down to rest your forehead and nose against his. Your eyes dropped down to his mouth, at his dry, full lips which were parted invitingly for a kiss. You refrained purposely knowing the finality it possessed.

“I’m going now.” You informed evenly.

He was about to say something but you silenced him.

“Whatever you have to say, tell me when you see me again because… dos iz nisht zay gezunt” you wasn’t fluent in Yiddish but when you saw the stunned acknowledgment cross Alfie’s features you knew he had understood.

You had left without another word and marched down the hall towards the stairs, Ada’s heels chasing rapidly behind you.

“Y/N?” She called catching up to you. “What in the hell happened?”

“You need to take me back, Ada. Take me back to Arley hall now.”

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torialeysha · 2 years

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Cold feet - Part. 19

Bad blood

A/N: How is everyone? I don’t know about you guys but I’m having withdrawals now peaky blinders is finished. And I’m still reeling about the fact that Alfie has married his maid Edna, I feel kinda betrayed not gonna lie 🤣 That being said here’s the latest instalment of cold feet. Sorry if it’s a little short, it just felt right to finish it where I did.

Warnings: Mentions of death, self harm and miscarriage.

Song: synergy - Tash Sultana

Too distraught to think. Any speech that erupted from your quivering lips was lost in full body racking sobs. Flashbacks replayed themselves in Choppy images behind your eyes; the group of people stampeding towards you, strange faces surrounding you, arms and hands reaching and grabbing, the weight of Alfie gone, carried away. Where were they taking him? Then you were being lifted from the floor. Tommy was there and he was shaking you viciously and yelling, his face pointed and furious but you couldn’t hear him. Ada shoved Tommy off you. Then he howled loud and clear. “She’s part of it, Ada. She helped kill our brother. Arthur’s dead because of her!”

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torialeysha · 2 years

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No answer

Buck Barnes x female agent OC

A/N: This one’s been lurking in my notes for a long time. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: smut 18+ 😈

No answer: two words that lately defined my so called friendship with James Buchanan Barnes. I’d call him - no answer, send him a text - no answer, stood outside his apartment block in Brooklyn buzzing his buzzer like I was right now and low and behold there’s still no answer.

I pounded the buzzer again holding my thumb on the button for an annoyingly long period of time. I heard the main door release behind me when a pizza delivery guy exited the building too busy counting his tips to notice me so I swiftly slipped passed him and through the door before it closed.

Traipsing down the darkened hallway and up three flights of stairs, I eliminated the neighbouring door numbers until I found myself outside the one that was his. I knocked loudly then pressed my ear upon the worn, flaking surface of the painted wood hearing nothing but silence which unnerved me. I grabbed my cellphone from my pocket and called him. The muffled vibration of the ringtone rattling on the other side of the door which caused my heart rate to quicken.

“I’m giving you one more chance to open this door Barnes or I’m letting myself in.” I warned.

When there was still no movement to be heard I fulfilled my threat and with an old S.H.I.E.L.D keycard I found in my purse, I broke my way into his apartment.

“Bucky?” I called, carefully crossing his threshold.

The unsettling echo of my voice rung out through the enclosed space and Instinctively my hand slipped into my purse and around the gun I always carry with me.

I continued in cautiously, noticing that the few pieces of furniture which decorated the plain room were all situated in what looked like their rightful places. There certainly wasn’t any signs of a struggle, in fact the place looked reasonably tidy for a man living on his own. I checked the bathroom then the bedroom, panicking when I noticed the bedding missing from the mattress. I retreated hastily back to the open plan kitchen/living room, exhaling a harsh sigh of relief when I saw the missing duvet and pillow crumpled up on the living room floor behind the arm chair. I gazed down at the makeshift bed confused, my heart sinking at the realisation that this must be where Bucky slept. Was this just what he was used to or was this the only form of rest he felt like he deserved?

I buried that thought for now and made my way to the little kitchenette to check the fridge; satisfied that it’s sparse contents looked fresh and the sell by dates weren’t out by a ridiculous amount of time I turned my attention elsewhere.

On the kitchen counter lay a laptop and next to it a cellphone. I checked the home screen and was once again reassured that the battery was almost fully charged and the notifications, along with my missed calls were recent. He must have gone out and forgotten his phone which meant he couldn’t have gone far. I would just wait until he returned.

A couple of hours passed and I had now made myself at home; settled in to his lone arm chair with a cup of tea, half invested in a football game on the television while also checking my e-mails on his laptop. I was just doing some research on Westview when my trained ear picked up on the ninja-like footsteps that faltered at the front door. Swiftly the door swung open and I cringed guiltily as he made a stealthy and incredibly defensive entrance.

“It’s only me, Buck.” I called out calmly from the armchair. “Hi.” I smiled sweetly at his cute, dumbstruck appearance.

“Mabel? What the hell?”

For a brief moment we just stared at each other. He looked different from the last time I saw him. the slight beard that had graced his jaw was now gone along with the messy mop of chestnut hair that usually curtained his stern but handsome face.

“I was just passing through and thought I’d drop by and say hi. Then you weren’t home so I-“

“Broke in to my apartment?”

“Firstly, nothing’s been broken. I’m not an amateur, and secondly, this is actually all your doing. If you’d have answered my phone calls or messages to begin with then I wouldn’t have been pushed to such drastic measures. Everyone I’ve spoken to hasn’t seen or heard from you since the hearing...I thought something bad might have happened. What else was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe wait until I got a minute to message you back...” He snapped before adding more softly. “I’ve been busy lately.”

My eyes strayed from his sheepish form back to the laptop and the tab of his online dating profile that I minimised after taking the liberty of a cheeky look.

“I can see that.” I hummed with a raised eyebrow. “So tell me Whitewolf1917” I pretended to read off the screen. “106 year old ex assassin who loves listening to Glenn Miller and whose hobbies include knife play, intense staring competitions and polishing their vibranium arm.” I smiled teasingly at him. “Anyone buying what you’re selling?”

“Ha ha.” He scoffed sarcastically and moved towards the refrigerator. “That’s an invasion of privacy, ya know? Spying some would say.” He smirked, pointing at the laptop.

“And those same people would also say that old habits die hard. You should really set up a password on this.” I sighed, raising an eyebrow at his incoherent mumblings as he rummaged around in the refrigerator.

“Living on my own I didn’t feel the need to. Anyway who told you I liked knife play? I do not like knife play.” He exclaimed, emerging from the cooler with a crimson blush. “And what’s wrong with Glenn Miller?” He added defensively.

“Absolutely nothing.” I agreed burying my mouth into the armchair to hide my smirk.

“Also, to answer your last question, I’ve just come back from a date which I secured through said dating profile.” He boasted almost proudly.

“... Ahh so that’s where you’ve been?” I hummed trying to conceal my surprise.

I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind him. “And you got her home before 12,”I ignoring the weird churning of my insides. “ever the gentleman, Barnes. So, don’t leave me in suspense, how’d it go?” I closed his laptop then placed it on the little table next to the chair and went to join him in his kitchen.

“It went is what it did.” He sighed, popping the caps off two bottles of beer that he retrieved from the fridge and handing me one.

“That good, huh?”

“Mmm.” He grunted then quickly changed the subject. “You finished up in D.C Already?”

“No, I’m back there in a couple of days.

Rhodey needed me to run a couple of errands in New Jersey so I figured I’d take a detour and pop in on a friend on the way... What about you? Anything new?” I probed lightly.

He pursed his lips in thought and then shrugged. “The feds want me to help bring in a couple of ex HYDRA assets. Oh, and I’ve started my mandatory therapy. Apart from that I’m just here trying to live out a normal life, whatever the hell that is.” He sighed before draining half of his beer.

I busied myself, picking restlessly at the peeling label of my beer, patiently waiting to see if he would continue. I wanted to make sure that he was ok but I didn’t want to press him too much. I could see from the pillow and blanket set up on the floor and the sullen frown which he seemed to wear permanently that he was still struggling to find some sort of peace from his time as hydras puppet. I didn’t want to torture him more, I was here as his friend not his therapist.

“Eh, normal’s never really been my thing.” I scrunched my nose up as if the word stunk. “So I won’t be able to help you with that.”

He smiled meekly and downed the last of his beer, leaving me with a full bottle still.

“You’re looking good-Seeing you is good-I mean-it’s good to see you.” He stuttered then cursed under his breath.

“Yeah?” I asked, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks. “You don’t look so bad ya self, Sarge. Nice haircut.” I admitted through a smile that faded quickly. “You could see more of me... of all of us. I know none of us were as close to you as Steve but we’re still here for you. Don’t shut us out, Barnes. We’re all lost and broken, trying to find our place in a very different world now. You’re not alone.” I reached across and rested my hand on his with a squeeze. His eyes shot to mine and I wasn’t sure if I’d overstepped the mark with the touch. An uncertainty he quickly put to rest when his thumb settled across my fingers with a soft stroke.

“Thank you.” His lips curled up in to a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘Well, I best get going.” I announced, reluctantly tearing my hand from his.

“What? Where? Why?” He stammered, cocking his head at me like a lost puppy.

“It’s getting late. And I’ve got a hotel booked on the other side of town.”

“But you’ve only just got here.”

“It’s actually you that’s just got here. I’ve been here since 7.” I chuckled.

“You waited for me all that time?”

“It was worth it. Just for my peace of mind. I’ve been going kinda crazy that I hadn’t heard from you.” I divulged, shrugging on my leather jacket.

“I’m sorry.” He grumbled guiltily. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? It doesn’t seem fair that you’ve gone out your way to come and see me and I wasn’t even here. We can catch up some more and it’ll save you checking in to a hotel. You can have the bed, I’ll sleep out here.”

He nodded towards living room.

I paused, debating wether to ask why he chose to sleep on the floor but bit my tongue and simply replied gratefully “Ok.”

We sat reminiscing over another couple of beers and just after 1am called it a night.

I bidded him goodnight, quickly used the bathroom then retired to his bedroom. I placed my purse and gun on the bedside cabinet, knowing I wouldn’t be able to rest unless it was close by, then retrieved a spare blanket and pillow from the cupboard as he instructed and stripped down to my panties and the cami I wore beneath my shirt.

I collapsed on to the springy, unused mattress and waited patiently until sleep consumed me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~,

I sprung up from the mattress, automatically grabbing the gun off the side and aiming it blindly out in front of me. I was disoriented, unsure why I had woken so abruptly and in such a panic. My heart was pounding, my laboured breathing the only thing piercing the dull silence. My eyes finally adjusted to the darkness of the room when I heard what must have woken me; a strangled wailing, so deeply agonising that it shook me to my very core. I quickly scrambled off the bed and shakily staggered to where the noise was coming from.

The colourful glow of the television illuminated the living room and lit up Buckys thrashing body on the floor. I stilled, my eyes widening as his body arched, the blanket pooling at his hips, exposing the strain of his bulging muscles and protruding veins as he struggled unconsciously with an invisible force. I stood there helpless, one minute prepared to fight and now just at a complete loss of what to do.

“Nooo!” He let out a garbled cry, his vibranium arm pounding the floor twice causing me to jump. I couldn’t stand it anymore, seeing Bucky being tormented by the horror of his dreams, I had to do something.

I put down my gun and leaned tentatively towards him.

“Buck?” I called softly. “You’re having a bad dream, wake up.”

Still he thrashed.

I edged nearer and knelt beside him.

“Bucky!” I called a little louder this time, My hand shaking his leg to try and gently rouse him. He kicked out sending me backwards colliding into his arm chair and on to my arse. I hastily shook it off and scrambled to my feet. I thought the noise may have at least woken him but in the dim light I could make out that his eyes were still closed. A sob wracked his body and it was only then that I noticed the glistening stream that flowed from the outer corner of his eye.

Without hesitation I got on all fours and crawled quickly back to him. I swallowed hard, my throat working round the lump that had formed there.

“James?” My voice broke as I called him. He stilled but did not wake. Quietly I studied his face, still etched in pain even in sleep. I reached out, my fingers lightly skimming his furrowed brow, travelling down his damp temple and over his tense, stubbled jaw. He let out a growl, and out of fear of him lashing out again I quickly slid in next to him, putting all my weight on his outstretched black and gold arm, shrieking as the sharp coolness of the precious metal burned my skin.

He inhaled sharply and rolled over encompassing me so I was now buried beneath him. I couldn’t move, not properly. The weight of the semi-conscious super soldier trapping me completely.

I panicked, my eyes rising to his that were now half open, studying me with a heavy, glacial emptiness that wasn’t truly Barnes.

“Bucky?” My pounding heart was in my mouth as I breathed his name shakily. Remembering how frightening it was the last time I come face to face with the winter soldier back in Berlin when he escaped the joint counter terrorist centre. He tore through us all like we were nothing. I was certain I wouldn’t stand a chance on my own.

But I needed to remember that he was no longer the winter soldier. He was free, just caught up in the residue of a bad dream and I was here to help him shake it off.

The memory of Nat beckoning Banner back from hulk mode with that lullaby flooded my brain and before I could properly think it through I stupidly whispered under the strain of his weight,

“Hey big guy, sun’s getting real low...” it was a pathetic, squeaky attempt which lacked Natashas sensual finesse.

His brow furrowed, breaking his emotionless mask.

I wiggled beneath him and noticed his restraint on me had loosened. Relief overtook my embarrassment but I wasn’t taking any chances. Using all of my strength I flipped him on to his back, and rolled on top, straddling his hips and pinning him with my weight.

“May?” He sounded scared and confused. the iciness of his blue eyes had now thawed out to a much softer hue.

“Yeah, it’s me, Buck. You were having a bad dream. You was... you wasn’t you.” I stammered, still sat pointlessly on top of him, knowing full well that he possessed the strength to push me off him with simply the flick of his fingers if he so wish.

He sat up then, quicker than the blink of an eye and took me by surprise when he pulled me flush against him.

“Thank God you’re ok. I thought you were dead, I thought the winter soldier killed you, thought I killed you.” He sobbed, divulging what his dream was about.

“I’m ok, Buck. It was just a bad dream, everything’s ok.” I cooed softly stroking his hair down to the nape of his neck.

“It’s ok.” I repeated again, throwing my arms around him and matching the ferocity of his hold of me. We stayed like that for a moment, indulging in the solace of each others arms. It felt good to be touched, to be held. I stiffened when the coolness of his metal arm skimmed the bare skin at the bottom of my back where my cami had rose slightly. He immediately removed the offending limb but I quickly grabbed it and put it back where it was.

Something shifted between us then. Our grips tightened further, our hands grasping restlessly at each other’s skin and clothes, anything we could get hold of.

I shifted my hips and gasped when I felt his hardening length prod between my legs. He cupped my face suddenly, forcing me to look at him. I was seized, so completely over taken by our inappropriate and spontaneous connection that I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even comprehend what this would mean for our friendship or the awkwardness that could ensue.

Neither of us were brave enough to make the first move, both painfully aware of the ‘just friends’ line we were both dangerously close to crossing. I shuffled my hips again, purposely this time to subdue the ache that was forming there. The rigid friction of his arousal teased mine and his hands dropped to my hips, encouraging the movement once again. I complied willingly, more forcefully this time and was graced with a sweet moan from his lips. I continued to grind, burying my head in his neck as we slipped into an anguished rhythm that wasn’t enough. I needed more. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I wanted him, like I had done back in Wakanda, before the blip had ripped our worlds apart and extinguished the little spark we had begun to establish.

I pulled my head from his neck. And begged him breathlessly. “Kiss me, Bucky.”

His lips slanted across mine instantly. Our slow clashing of mouths turning frantic within moments. Our lips, tongues and hips battled furiously while we tried unsuccessfully to get our fill. He laid back pulling me with him and flipping me beneath him.

My hands instantly tugged at his boxers, pulling and pushing them down to his thick thighs where they rested. His cock was now free and I was desperate to feel it inside of me.

Impatiently I slid my panties to the side and with my other hand guided his hips down towards my slick entrance.

He growled at my eagerness and obliged willingly. My back arched as he slid slowly into me.

“May.” He moaned then cursed, resting his head on my chest. “It’s been so long.” He panted.

“Too long.” I agreed. Unable to remember the last time I was intimate with someone.

He reared back and sank into me again. I gasped at the fullness and the building knot in my trembling core that already felt like it was ready to come undone.

My hands travelled across his powerful body as he pounded me relentlessly into the rigid floor. His mouth captured mine clumsily, swallowing my moans as I fell apart beneath him. He wasn’t long behind me, panting and shaking as was I.

After what felt like an eternity, the euphoria of our climaxes faded leaving us both spent and speechless.

Bucky rolled off of me, his body landing with a heavy thump next to mine

“That was...” he panted towards the ceiling.

“Good.” I sighed dreamily.

“Really good.” He agreed.

We both lay there, falling back to earth silently. Rational thought starting to seep its annoying way back in to my consciousness, crushing me with the weight of what we’d just done. What I’d selfishly initiated.

I leaned up ready to forge some sort of explanation of what had come over me and saw that Bucky was sleeping soundly. Grateful I didn’t need to embarrass myself further I quickly got up From the floor and crept into the bedroom to dress and get my things. I had to get out of there, to spare us both from the awkwardness the morning would bring if I stayed. I paused at the front door, contemplating leaving a note but the words failed me. And in the end I decided to leave without a trace in hopes that I hadn’t just destroyed what little friendship I had left with Bucky Barnes.

#bucky barnes #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #Bucky x female oc #the winter soldier #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #falcon and the winter soldier #bucky fan fiction

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torialeysha · 2 years

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Cold feet - Part. 19

Bad blood

Warnings: Mentions of death, self harm and miscarriage.

Song: synergy - Tash Sultana

Everything happened so fast that you couldn’t recollect properly what had transpired after that. Somehow you were transported from the streets of Smallheath to a huge mansion in the middle of nowhere. Polly and Ada accompanied you, bundling you through the door and into this huge living room. A fire was already crackling away in the hearth, warming the room but you couldn’t feel it’s heat, you couldn’t feel anything. You could only stand there in a daze, covered in blood but none of it yours.

“I’m sorry about Arthur.” You blurted suddenly.

“Don’t.” Ada urged. “That makes you sound guilty.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“I know.” She whispered. “I just…can’t get my head around it.”

“I tried to get word to you, Ada. I called the hotel in Mayfair but you had already checked out. Then Luca kidnapped me and it was too late, there was nothing I could do. I was completely helpless. You have to believe me. I’d never want anyone to get hurt.”

“That’s enough Y/N.” Polly warned. “We’ll wait for Tommy before we speak anymore about it. Ada, take Y/N to get cleaned up? No point ruining the furniture with bad blood.”

“Bad blood? I need to speak to Thomas. I need to know what’s happened to Alfie. I need to explain everything.” You croaked.

“Tommy may not be back until morning.” Polly replied bluntly, annoyance tainting her voice.

“Pol’s right. You can’t stay like that. I’ll run you a bath and look for something you can change in to.”

You nodded reluctantly and followed Ada into the lobby and up the stairs although you didn’t want to. The only thing you wanted was to know about Alfie, where they took him? Was he alive? Was Tommy capable of the compassion and generosity it would take to get Alfie help after he thought he’d betrayed him and caused the death of his brother? You were doubtful but still hoped, you had to hope.

The bath water stained pink with Alfie’s blood trickled through your fingers sending a new wave of gut wrenching sadness to crash over you. The more you thought about it, the number of shots, the amount of blood, the heavy limpness of his beastly body that was hauled from your lap, the less likely you believed Alfie could have survived. Your heart dropped, sinking with heaviness down into your belly where it lay and left the dullest pain you’d ever felt. You slipped beneath the tepid pink pool and stayed there weightless and free. Free from pain and free from causing pain. Your chest began to burn for oxygen when suddenly out of no where you heard a voice. “Don’t give up. Keep going.” It mumbled, distorted by the water.

Your eyes shot open and quickly you jumped up. Water splashed in a wave over the sides of the tub. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you gasped air in to your lungs. When you looked around you were still on your own.

“Ada?” You called, there was no answer.

Was the voice a figment of your imagination? A product of your oxygen starved brain? You felt dizzy and disoriented, overwhelmed with agitation and abrupt desperation to escape the tub.

Gracelessly you pulled yourself up and out of the tub, stepping on to the fluffy white towel Ada had laid upon the pristine marble floor to save you from slipping. When you straightened, the dull cramping which had settled in your stomach shot down your thighs like a current of electricity, effectively doubling you over.

Your eyes clenched shut waiting for the pain to subside. When you opened them again the towel beneath your feet was no longer white but spotted with blood, not pink like the bath water that was dripping off your goose pimpled skin but grotesquely bright and fresh. Your eyes followed the journey of the last droplet, widening when you saw it’s crimson trail leading up between your legs.

Your mouth fell open piercing the air with a scream.

Ada found you shaking and incoherent on the bathroom floor. At first she worried you had injured yourself but soon realised where the blood was coming from.

You heard her curse not once but twice and say something about a doctor. She covered your naked body with a towel and ran out of the bathroom screaming for Polly.

The doctor arrived within the hour. You obliged the examination although you didn’t need him or his stethoscope. You could already feel the void inside you and knew with sickening certainty what he was going to tell you. However when the blow of his professional confirmation eventually came in the dreaded shaking of his head followed by his condolences, it was more devastating than you had imagined. It was the final nail in the coffin. Shock, guilt, sadness, a rush of emotions attacked you at once suffocating you into a breathless frenzy. Ada and Polly tried to calm you but you thrashed them away with a strength you were unaware you possessed. There were exchanging of words, mumblings you couldn’t even register. The doctor then intervened in the struggle, gripping your arm tightly. You felt a pinch in your bicep and looked down to see a syringe being emptied in to your arm. It took mere seconds to take effect, dulling you down and making you feel lightheaded as if you had drunk yourself into a stupor. Then you drifted away and the pain of the world as you knew it fell away from you.

For a long time there was nothing, just darkness filling every inch of space.

Then from the void came a light spreading with music, the soft tones of a piano tinkering away to a tune you were familiar with, a tune you had heard many a time. There was brightness now almost blinding, banishing the dark to the outer edges of your vision as it stubbornly refused to be expelled completely. sparkling sequins of flappers spinning and flailing to a faster beat than the music blurred before your tired eyes. You were at the Eden club as it used to be, under Sabini’s management, before it became Arcadia.

What were you doing here?

To your left your friend Mabels giggle echoed as a man whispered something in her ear.

Groggily you tried to focus.

“He’s not here.” You rasped.

“So? There’s plenty of others, take your pick.”

You knew she was going to say that. You had heard it before, this had all happened before - that’s how you knew he was here. He was at the Eden that night settling some business with Sabini. You remembered his surprised and disapproving face when he saw you, done up to the nines and on the pull, or so he had thought. You had barely known each other then. A few encounters at your uncles shop. You had gotten used to his company, enjoyed it. Your feelings growing with every day he visited. The week before that night at the Eden he hadn’t called in to your uncles shop at all, leaving you feeling disappointedly glum and confused. You had confided in your friend Mabel who almost spat her coffee across the cafe table when you told her that Alfie Solomon’s was the cause of your misery. She begged you to come out that night, promised it would take your mind of the so called bastard Baker, only for him to actually be there. Once his business was dealt with he asked you to leave with him - which you did. That was the first night you kissed. It was the beginning of something wonderful and now you were at the end. You had to Find him to stop the end from coming, to start again.

“I’m going to look for him.” You said leaving Mabel and forcing your way through the faceless crowd. Upstairs - the office, he must be there. You found a familiar looking door by the far wall and went through it. The empty room was cold and dark. The music had stopped, disappeared to make way for a set of loud footsteps that stopped a foot or so behind you. Two freezing cold hands fell upon your shoulders. You tried to look behind to see who it was but you couldn’t move.

“Go on then - tell him ‘I do.” Charles’ voice crawled across your skin.

The room became some sort of church. Empty pews trapped either side of you and at the far end a shadowy figure stood with no face, waiting expectantly for your answer.

“No. Never.” You spat.

“It’s too late.” He sung, moving to your side. “You may not wear my ring but I’ve marked you for life. Til death do we part.” he smiled, an unnaturally wide grin, his mouth taking up half of his face as his head arched back with a menacing laughing.

You started running then, back the way you came. Falling through the door wanting to get back to the Eden but instead landed on your hands and knees in sand. Looking up you saw the dunes of Margate to the side of you. The sea rolled violently attacking the shore. Seagulls swooped over head cawing chaotically. In the distance you saw a figure, although their back was to you you knew it was Alfie. You had found him. He was ok. The relief was enough to make you cry. You tried to call to him to get up off your knees but you had no voice and your hands and legs were sinking, buried in the sand that had a hold on you like dried cement. He walked towards the sea not stopping when the turbulent water was approaching knee height. Panic rose in your chest. You struggled ferociously with the unrelenting sand. Trying with all you might to muster at least a squeak to tell him to stop, to let him know you were there. Despite all your efforts you could do no more but watch in horror as the waves swallowed him up until he was no longer there.

You woke with a start. Your throat was sore and dry. Another unfamiliar room, alone again in the darkness. You couldn’t stay here. You got up and noticed the outline of Ada fast asleep on the chaise longe at the foot of the bed. Careful not to wake her you tiptoed to the door and crept through. You stalled on the other side. What were you doing? Where were you going? The first flickers of dusk filtered through the landing window illuminating your way. Across the way above the stairs your eyes were drawn to a huge painting of Tommys late wife Grace. She dominated the wall gazing down at you, strong and proud and in that moment there was something else in her expression. You looked harder and saw something hiding in the canvas and paint. It felt alive, her features changing, conveying a sense of sympathy that was meant for you. You blinked and the painting was once again plainly still, leaving you with the feeling you were going crazy.

A small bang and a curse emerged down the dimness of the hallway and you staggered towards it. A sliver of light sneaked through a crack in one of the many doors and without hesitation you entered.

Through the haze of cigarette smoke you saw the striking, lamp lit face of Tommy. He was sat behind a desk leaning back in his chair. His head angled forward his eyes falling lazily upon you. A flash of anger altered his impassive features and you fought the urge to retreat.

“That’s Graces night gown.” He accused.

You looked down at the silk and lace floor length slip.

“Ada gave it to me to put on. My clothes were…covered in blood.”

He took a drag of his cigarette, taking longer than necessary to exhale the smoke and said suddenly.

“Take a seat Y/N.”

He took a decanter of clear liquid, topped up his tumbler then filled another one and slid it across the varnished cherry wood of the desk in front of you. It’s strong floral aroma filled your nostrils. You eyed it disdainfully, the fact you were now allowed to drink the poison just another painful reminder of what you’d lost.

“You’ve spoken to Ada.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’ve spoken to Polly.” He sighed.

You nodded, your gaze still fixed on the gin.

Silence stretched as you waited for Tommy to say something. What was you expecting? A pitiful sorry for your loss, or maybe a glimpse of sympathy in the cold, callous blue of his eyes. Or Maybe you just wanted proof that Thomas Shelby had heart. When the silence stretched longer than it had to it dashed your hopes of Alfie’s fate.

“I need to know what you’ve done with him. I want to see his body.” You tried to stop the wavering of your voice but it wobbled painfully with anguish.

“I need you to tell me everything you know first.” He insisted, ignoring your question.

“Why? What does it matter now?” Tears were now streaming freely down your cheeks. You swiped at them angrily. “Wait… Is it for my sake? You want me to plead my case so you can decide wether or not to spare me? Well let me save you the trouble. You may have lost your brother and I’m truly sorry about that but I’ve lost everything. My life isn’t worth begging for.”

“He’s alive.” He grumbled insipidly.

“What?”

“Alfie is still alive. He’s stable in a hospital under the guard of my men.”

“Alfie’s alive.” You repeated in disbelief.

“For now.” He looked at his burning cigarette thoughtfully then took a drag. “So you need to tell me everything you know.”

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Tag list: @storm-bjorn @alsheyra @lililolli @jaegers-and-kaijus @lightwoodt @stars-trash-18 @anrm1 @innerpaperexpertcloud @alitheamateur @hardygal69 @boysinurdream

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfiction #peaky blinders #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction

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torialeysha · 2 years

Text

Cold feet - Part 18

Fireside.

A/N: A long overdue update coming at ya again. I’ve decided to give Charles the face claim of August walker/Henry Cavill. Was it a good choice? Lemme know if you imagined someone different. Hope you’re all well… Oh, and merry Christmas ya filthy animals ❤️

Warnings: Mentions of death, rape, violence and the odd f**k, s**t, b******s and c**t sprinkled here and there.

Song: Arctic monkeys - Fireside.

‘Isn’t it hard to make up your mind when you’re losing and your fuse is fireside.’

Alfie returned to London, ripping through the smog of the city like a whirlwind. His first port of call was the brothel, where he ransacked each and every sin ridden room, unapologetically interrupting the fornicating occupants in each one trying to sniff out the loose-lipped whore. When every room was overturned and he was certain that she wasn’t there, he put out an order to the mistress of the house for the girl to be sent to him as soon as she turned up. From there he went to the bakery, to wait. He pummelled his way through the stream of workers who tried to approach him with work woes and headed straight for his office where he found Ollie lounging at his desk as if it was already his.

Keep reading

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torialeysha · 2 years

Photo

Well, the real question is, Alfie… which side are you playing for, eh?

Peaky Blinders, 4x04

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torialeysha · 2 years

Text

I’ve read about a bunch of kinks in this fandom: size kink, daddy kink, breed kink, dom/sub kink…you name it. I’m not really into most of them but there’s something that really turns me on as the fetishist I am and that’s his wide brimmed black hat. I don’t know what it is, though, but it makes me feel things. The way his eyes hide under its shadow. The way it enhances his cocky demeanour. I really don’t know but it drives me insane.

I knew it was paramount for the portrayal of Alfie character the minute I saw him wearing it and I loved to know about it in the Gospel of Alfie Solomons when he talks about his father:

“Yeah, someone fucking told ‘cause all I ever saw of him was his fucking hat. It was hanging on a wall on a nail above the sink where my mother washed other people’s laundry. That hat was a holy relic, size eight and a half, made in Luton, where the hat makers go insane on the fumes of their trade and leave little messages sewn under the hat bands. The message in my father’s hat was this:

This hat, right, is a kettle in which to boil up your wicked dreams and make a soup of your soul.

It is a hat that actually I wear to this day, it still smells of Portugal Water; when I wear it the schemes and proposals come out of the darkness as if seeping out of the felt and the leather that is stained with his erotic sweat.”

EROTIC. SWEAT.

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torialeysha · 2 years

Text

Cold feet - Part 18

Fireside.

Warnings: Mentions of death, rape, violence and the odd f**k, s**t, b******s and c**t sprinkled here and there.

Song: Arctic monkeys - Fireside.

‘Isn’t it hard to make up your mind when you’re losing and your fuse is fireside.’

Ollie stood to attention on his arrival.

“Alfie?” Ollie questioned, watching bewildered as Alfie ignored him and paced to and fro frantically. The crazed bear of a man suddenly came to a halt at his desk, doubling over it. His hands reached out to clutch either side of the cluttered wood top, the contents rattling as he began to quake uncontrollably.

“Alfie?” Ollie called again, his voice soaked in worry.

With a deafening roar Alfie catapulted the desk across the room as if it weighed no more than a piece of paper.

“Alfie what the fuck’s happened?” Ollie yelped.

“They’ve got ‘er.” Alfie uttered the words like he couldn’t believe them himself.

“What you on about - Y/N? Who’s got her?”

Alfie side-eyed an obtuse Ollie with annoyance. “Don’t make me say the name, lad.” Alfie begged through gritted teeth.

“Changretta?” Ollie questioned then laughed, “fuck off.” His chuckle ceased when he caught the snarl pulling at Alfie’s lips. “You’re serious?” His face dropped, eyes widening like a terrified little boy.

“Course I’m fucking serious. Why would I lie ‘bout somethin’ like that?”

“But when? how?” Ollie spluttered, the colour draining from his already pale face.

“That fucking whore I got roped up with sold me out.” Alfie could curse himself now looking back at it, drunkenly spilling his guts to a woman who sells herself for a shilling. “I reckon they’ve been staking out the place. When they saw Ischmael and Daniel leave this morning they must’ve followed ‘em, see me leave for that poxy meeting then took their chances. I’ve played right into their fucking hands.”

“But I don’t understand. Why would they take her?”

“For leverage, init. That silly wop cunt thought I was gonna fuck him over before the fight, and now I’ve got a bloody good reason not to.”

“Fuck!” Ollie cursed. “...What about Ishmael and Daniel though? They were supposed to keep her safe.”

“They’re both dead.” Alfie replied bluntly then muttered under his breath. “Useless pair of cunts.”

“No, no that can’t be!” Ollie wailed. “This can’t be happening. I don’t believe it, Alfie. I don’t believe it!”

Alfie turned on him. Grabbing his head with both hands, his finger tips turning white with the force.

“You better start believing it, Ollie. Now if you want to sit around and cry about it then you need to fuck off because I don’t want it round me.” Ollie managed to stifle his sobs down to a snotty sniffle. “Otherwise, I need you to man the fuck up and help me sort this shit out, right?”

“Right.” Ollie nodded trying to compose himself. “What the do we do now then? Do we tell Tommy?”

“No we fucking don’t.” Alfie scoffed incredulously.

“But if we give him a heads up he’ll be prepared to take them down at the fight, before they can make their first move.”

“Tommy wouldn’t wait til then. He’d bring the fight here, hunt ‘em down before then, I can’t allow that to happen. Not now they’ve got Y/N. I just can’t take that risk.”

“So what in the hell are we gonna do?”

Alfie collapsed into his chair and threw his head in his hands.

“I don’t know lad, I don’t fucking know.”

A low rumble of thunder jolted you awake. Lightning blinding your vision for the briefest of moments. It seemed ironic waking up once again alone in another unfamiliar room. The last thing you remembered was darkness, no way out, then it all came back to you, hitting you like a devastating tsunami. You jumped up realising your hands were now free of restraint and stumbled in a groggy panic to the door. Unsure of where it lead you still tried the handle - it was locked. Immediately you begun banging on it and shouting for someone to let you out.

“Lei e sveglia.” You heard a male voice on the other side of the door. “Dire el capo.” Another said as you slid down the door hopelessly.

It couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes later when you heard the door unlock. You scrambled to your feet, your fuzzy head taking a moment to join you. Luca stepped into the room. The nauseating smell of his musky cologne causing your stomach to retch and your nostrils to flare.

“If looks could kill.” He smirked as you regarded him disdainfully. “It’s a nice room, huh?” He slid his long index finger across the dressing table that was full of fancy cosmetics and fragrances. “Great view,” He motioned towards the window. “Convenient en-suite. Much, much more than you deserve.” He spat.

“That being said you’ll stay here until the fight, to ensure that happens, this door will be locked and guarded 24/7. The window is also locked. However I doubt a jump from this high would end well for you. Still, I find it’s always better to be safe than sorry... well, I think that’s all I have to say but have you got anything to add, cuz?” His lips spread in a sly smile as he queried behind him.

There was a pause, a restless shadow lingering haphazardly in the doorway behind him, then abruptly Charles appeared. You tried to hold your nerve but his dishevelled appearance and bloodshot eyes which were glaring daggers at you had you cowering.

“How about I leave you two to it.” Luca sighed as if he wasn’t truly loving every minute of this.

“Remember, not her face, cuz. We don’t wanna arouse any suspicions at the fight.” Luca muttered to Charles loud enough for you to hear.

Your heart was in your mouth, Your chest burning as you tried to draw in breath.

The door clicked shut, leaving you two alone.

“Charles I-“ you started but was cut off as he lunged at you, catching you by the throat. His fingers flexed, tightening until you were almost choking. You were helpless, stuck between the the wall and the mad man. He wedged his knee between your legs, the rigid sole of his brogue kicking your calves outwards to separate them wider.

“What are you doing?” You choked panicked.

“Taking what’s left.” He hissed, the stench of alcohol on his breath was overwhelming.

“No, Charles please. You haven’t got to do this. I don’t know what Luca’s told you-“ He tightened his grip around your neck painfully. His other hand pulled frantically at your dress, tearing the material to hang in a swag around your breasts.

“I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” He roared.

“Please, don’t, not like this.” You pleaded.

He ignored your begging, leaning down to attack your exposed skin with sharp, spiteful bites. You let out a raspy cry, your airwaves still constricted by his hold.

“Not like what, huh?” He spat. “When your body’s rotten with the touch of that fucking Jew?”

his teeth continued to nip and pinch at your chest. With all your strength you shoved at him. He wasn’t that sturdy on his feet thanks to his drunken state so you managed to unbalance him enough that he stumbled backwards a couple of steps.

“I loved you!” He erupted. “Gave you everything and this is how you repay me? For months you denied me, told me you were saving yourself for marriage and all this time you were fucking him behind my back?”

“It wasn’t like that. None of this was supposed to happen.” You trailed off knowing it would be pointless trying to explain.

“I know exactly what it was like, she told us everything. She caught both of you in the back alley of the market. You’re no better than a dirty street whore and now I’m gonna treat you like one!” He slurred stepping towards you sloppily. You moved before he could get to you. He laughed, watching as you skirted round the bed away from him. Tauntingly he lunged from side to side mimicking your movements until you were cornered.

His mouth stretched out into a sinister smile that transformed quickly into a look of disgust and irritation. You made a run for the en-suite but his hand found your hair and dragged you back before you could make it. You cried out as he threw you on the bed and leapt on top of you. Lifting your left hand you slapped him not once but twice. He grabbed your hand before it could connect a third time.

“Don’t you remember this?” He yelled, separating the finger that now bared Alfie’s ring not his. You cringed in horror as his eyes narrowed at the band. He turned your hand forcefully to inspect further.

“What’s this? This isn’t the ring I gave you? This is his ring isn’t it?”

You didn’t want to lie anymore but you were in a vulnerable position where telling the truth could cause Charles to take it out on you harder and there wasn’t just you to think about now.

“Answer me!” He barked.

“I lost the one you gave me, I replaced it with this one and hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

“Lies!”

“I’m telling the truth, I promise.” You Sobbed.

“You promise?” He scoffed. “Well in that case you won’t mind if I take this one back in place of my one which you lost.” He pulled at the band and you instinctively curled your finger to stop him from doing so.

He growled, forcefully bending your finger back so he could remove it.

You yelped, thrashing out in frustration.

“You deserve everything that’s coming to you.” He spat.

He restricted your movements by crushing you with the weight of his body. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and the only thing you could think of was his heaviness pressing on your stomach. Immediately you went limp, ceasing to fight him in hopes that if you stopped resisting then he wouldn’t use as much of his weight to hold you down.

He leant up then, his eyes switching from dangerously aroused to confused.

“Is this how easily you gave it up to him?” He snarled resentfully.

You couldn’t answer him, tears spilling from your closed eyes. You tried to blur it out; his slurring voice rasping out demeaning remarks, the sound of his belt buckle unbuckling, the grotesque feeling of his violating fingers savagely bunching your dress up to your hips, the shifting of the bed as he nestled over you.

You willed yourself away from the nightmare, trying to find your happy place.

Margate.

You envisioned that you were there instead, the little spot amongst the dunes that was yours and Alfie’s. You could almost smell the fresh sea air, imagine the brilliant sunshine you’d be laying under. The movement of the warm, soft sand moulding to your body. You’d feel a touch, much softer than the one your suffering right now but still employed with the same intent none the less. You’d spy over the top of your perfectly round sunglasses and see Alfie propped up by your side.

The way he’d look at you would take your breath away.

He’d catch your light, admonishing glare and tell you boldly that he couldn’t fucking help himself. To which you’d reply playfully ‘Don’t be such a fiend Solomon’s, we have a house here now, with plenty of rooms for you to exercise those insatiable desires of yours in private.’ You could imagine it all with such clarity that it felt like you had somehow peeked into the future, as if someone, somehow was reassuring you that although your world was falling apart right now, things would be made right in the end, Alfie would make it right in the end, he always did.

It was a small piece of hope but you clung to it desperately, knowing that your life and everything you cared about depended on it.

Thursday had rolled in to Friday. The mid-morning sun shone intrusively through the bolted down window on to your sorrowful form that still lay numbly on the bed where Charles had left you.

The sound of the door unlocking and opening interrupted the silence but you didn’t bother checking who it was and didn’t even flinch when Luca’s voice rung out through the room.

“No appetite?” He questioned seeing the plate of breakfast laying cold and untouched on the dressing table. You ignored him.

“This is for you to wear to the fight.” He threw whatever it was on the bed next to you. Still you refused to answer him.

“I wanna make sure that you understand what’s happening tomorrow because I gotta be honest, you look like shit.” He smirked and wedged himself a seat next to you on the bed. “And that could bring the wrong sort of attention if ya catch my drift. I need you to make sure you doll ya self up and make the right impression. Be a good girl for Chucky, you hear me? I know you’re not gonna want to but It’ll only end bad for everyone, especially you if you don’t. Do I make myself clear?” His spindly finger danced its way over your bicep. You shrugged him off irritably.

“Crystal.” You bit back.

“Good.” He paused with a sigh then continued “Ya know I can’t help but think that things may have turned out differently for you if you had met me first instead of my cousin.” His hand ran along the curve of your arse before slipping its way between your thighs.

“Don’t touch me!” You croaked wrenching away from him. He grabbed your wrist before you could go any further.

‘You know if you wasn’t my cousins broad I would have had my men lining up to do with you what they’d please, and they are some sick fucks, let me tell ya. But you, you don’t get to deny me. I’ll take what I want, like it or not... Luckily for you though sloppy seconds isn’t my style.”

He grimaced, his tongue clicking before darting out to wet his non-existent lips.

“You and Charles will be leaving here at 3:30 so make sure you’re ready.”

It took 2 and a bit hours to reach Birmingham from London which was two and a bit hours too long sat squashed next to Charles with the muzzle of a gun poking firmly into your side.

“What are you worried I’m going to do? Launch myself from a car when it’s speeding down the motorway?” You asked sarcastically.

“I’m not sure what you’re capable of now. Luca was right. I should never have trusted you.”

“It’s Luca you shouldn’t trust. He’ll stab you in the back the moment you turn it.”

“Ha! That’s just another lie to add to the others”

“Think whatever you want of me but You’re no saint yourself, cuz.” You mocked. “You lied to me about the reason you bought me the club and you also never mentioned that Luca was your cousin or about the money coming in from New York.... And let’s not forget what you did to me the other night...” you had to stop a moment to compose yourself, the thought of it enough to make you feel sick, “You wanna sit there and rip me apart when it’s a wonder how you can even look at yourself in the mirror.”

“Shut up!” He exploded. “Before I launch you from this car myself.”

You smirked at his reaction. Thrilled that you had hit a nerve. Now you could spend the rest of the journey in a satisfied silence.

When you arrived at Kings hall where the fight was being hosted, a brewing dread had begun to expand and tighten in your chest. You knew what was supposed to happen but the uncertainty of how this was actually going to end gripped you in tempestuous agony.

“You listen to me carefully.” Charles leaned in to you inconspicuously and almost tender. “You will not move from my side understood?” You shuddered trying to ignore the unpleasantness of his closeness.

“What about if I need the ladies?”

“You’ll just have to hold it.” He manoeuvred you through the crowd to the entrance dragging you with him. The men on the doors stopped you and asked for your names. They checked you were on the list and then patted you both down for weapons. When they gave you both the all clear you quickly tried to walk off in front, hoping to get lost in the crowd but Charles quickly caught up, grabbing you by the arm again.

“It seems I never made myself clear. Stay by my side or else.” He gritted, catching your sceptical gaze before adding. “What you don’t believe me?”

“Threaten me all you like but I don’t believe there’s much else you could put me through now that I can’t endure.”

“No? Well let me Remind you that I know where your mother lives... I want you to remember that before you even think about running off again.”

Your head snapped to him. “She’s innocent!”

“I disagree, she brought you in to the world and raised you into the no good slut that you are today. I wouldn’t call that innocent, would you?”

Your steps faltered at his insult. He stopped with you and smiled at a couple as they passed by.

“What the hell did I ever see in you?” You asked.

His jaw clenched then relaxed into a grin.

“Funny, I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

The huge hall was beginning to fill up as you were shown to your seats along the front row. You had been to a fight once before but it wasn’t on this magnitude or under such nerve-wracking circumstances. Suddenly you felt very claustrophobic. You tried to even your breathing and focus on the empty ring instead of the rowdy crowd piling into their seats. There were groups of wooden chairs along the front row facing you and to the side which were all still unoccupied. Then between the ropes of the ring you saw a silhouette of a man you recognised - Arthur. He was bursting with his usual frenetic energy, storming through the horde of people like a man on a mission. Behind him you saw a flash of blonde - his wife Linda and behind her was Polly and the tall brunette whose name slipped your mind. As if sensing your stare Pollys eyes met yours and she gave a small superior nod in your direction, you imagined like how a King, or Queen in this case, would greet her loyal subjects. You smiled back at her, fearful that any other movement would expose your trepidation.

Polly’s gesture alerted Arthur’s attention to your direction and without hesitation he began to stride towards you. Your heart started to pound, your mouth filling up with saliva because you had forgotten how to swallow. A man donning a flat cap stepped in front of him and whispered something in his ear. You noticed his expression change along with his route. ‘Oh god’ you thought ‘had they gotten to Tommy already?’

“Didn’t expect to see you two here.” You jumped at Ada’s voice, not noticing her sneak up beside you.

“Didn’t expect that reaction either. Are you ok?” She asked half amused, half concerned.

“She’s fine. Aren’t you darling?” Charles answered for you while all you could do was nod and smile. Too afraid to speak.

“What a coincidence to see you here, Mrs Thorne. I trust you are well?” Charles asked, filling the awkward silence you were now purposely prolonging to try and signal that something was amiss.

“I’m well.” Ada replied coolly. “But I’d like to steal your good lady away for a drink if I may?” She had caught on, throwing you a lifeline, a way out. Charles wouldn’t be able to say no so obviously. On shaky legs rose but Charles didn’t let go of your hand, hanging on to It bone crushingly tight.

“Don’t get carried away darling. Remember we’re going to see your mother tomorrow so you won’t want to be too hungover.” It wasn’t a reminder it was a warning.

“Actually on second thoughts, I’m best not to.” Your voice sounded unrecognisable as you sat back down.

“Ok...” The confusion in Ada’s voice added more weight to your guilt. “If you change your mind then come and find me.”

She strolled past and you could see from the corner of your eye her backward glance. If only you had been able to reach her when you had tried back in Margate; you could have told her about Charles being Lucas cousin and that you and Alfie had left London to make a go of it in Kent. It could have been the answer to your payers. She would have known then that you turning up at the fight with Charles wasn’t right, she could’ve warned Tommy that something was wrong. But she had no idea of any of it, as far as she was concerned you were still engaged to Charles so how perfectly normal it was for you to be at the fight together.

You were suddenly very agitated, constantly fidgeting and no matter how deeply you breathed it was like you couldn’t fill your lungs.

“What is wrong with you?” Charles snapped. “Stop fidgeting!”

“I can’t-I can’t breath. I need to get out of here.”

“Oh please. You expect me to believe that?”

You grabbed your chest to try and alleviate the pressure there.

“Just for a moment, please.” You wheezed.

“For heavens sake woman pull yourself together you’re going to make a scene.” He whispered aggressively in your ear.

Your eyes darted from person to person, their strange faces blurring into each other until a pair of perceptible blue eyes held your attention.

Alfie.

He was here! sat along the front row in Goliaths corner. His attention focused on you intently. You stared back at him, waiting for a sign, a small smile pulling at his mouth, a wink, any sort of reassurance that he had this figured out, that everything was going to be ok. But there was nothing. Just grim, bleak nothingness. His hands were tied. Thanks to you being in the equation, there was nothing he was willing to do that would put you at risk. It hit you then, the weight of it all, slamming into you like a speeding freight train that had lost control. There was no stopping it, It was just going to happen and whatever will be will be.

At some point during your dreary realisation the fight had started. Through the flying limbs and tangle of bodies you could see an unperturbed Tommy sitting next Arthur who seemed agitated enough for the both of them. They kept looking over at Goliaths corner, at Alfie and his men. Halfway through the second round one of the men from Goliaths corner left and stalked suspiciously out of the hall. Arthur leapt furiously from his chair to follow him, after a moments hesitation so did Tommy.

Your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach.

This was it, this was the beginning of the end. How could you just sit there knowing, allowing it to happen? Alfie’s hands may be tied but you could stop it or at least try.

The crowd roared and some erupted from their seats when the gypsy boy came back at Goliath with a powerful right hook.

Suddenly you knew what you had to do. Your determined gaze found Alfie who was looking at you ashen. He knew what you were planning, his his blue eyes dark and wide - panicked, begging you not to do it.

Goliaths body hit the deck with an almighty thump and you knew it was now or never. When the crown erupted again, you joined them, surging forward with the majority like a tidal wave. You fought your way through the sea of people losing Charles in the commotion. You retraced the Tommy and Arthur’s footsteps and scrambled from corridor to corridor. Dark, creepy, quiet apart from the echo of your heels and the muffled rumble of cheers and boos coming from the the fight. A gunshot stopped you in your tracks. It came from behind you, or so you thought. You turned back towards it and screamed as you collided with a body.

“Alfie.” You gasped. Wanting to throw your arms around him in relief. But there was no time for that.

“We need to go now!” He ordered, guiding you back down the endless corridors. You could feel the cool breeze billowing in from the open doors of the entrance getting closer and suddenly you were outside. Alfie stopped and looked around. A car flashing its headlights stood out from the rest of the parked cars.

“Over ‘ere.” He mumbled. Still caught in his arm you stepped with him quickly to car. You were about to jump in when you heard another pop accompanied by the smashing of glass and the loud relentless honking of the cars horn where Alfie’s drivers head lay lifeless pressed against it.

“You thought it would be that easy?” Your eyes closed when you heard Charles’ voice. “You thought I’d give her up that easily?” His still smoking gun bounced between you and Alfie.

“Listen, we done what was asked now just let us go mate.” Alfie tried to reason.

“That was my cousins business, now this here is mine, and I won’t let you take what’s mine. If I can’t have her then neither can you.” He snarled, firing one shot after another. It all happened so fast. You waited for the impact, for the pain but it didn’t come. When you opened your eyes the view of Charles was obstructed by Alfie who stumbled backwards, you tried to support him, to keep him upright but the weight of him pulled you both to the floor. You struggled to sit up, Alfie lying limply in your lap. A warm puddle had started to form where his head lay on your thighs. You glanced down in horror as blood gushed from a gaping hole in his cheek. Red blossomed across his shirt, turning it from white to claret.

“No, Alfie, no.” You shook him but he didn’t respond. “Please not like this. ALFIE!” You sobbed a garbled version of his name then screamed as loud as you could. “Help! Someone please help!”

Sobs continued to rack your body as you leant forward to rest your head against his. Tears spilling from your weeping eyes and pooling in the worry creases that still marked his forehead. “Please don’t leave us, Alf, please. Not now, not like this.”

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torialeysha · 3 years

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Coming into a fandom late

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torialeysha · 3 years

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Cold feet - Part. 17

A tailored twist.

Song: Royal Blood - Out of the black

The house was more like a mansion. A lone, vast, Victorian structure that was nestled perfectly by the sea. It’s white painted facade blended seamlessly in to the clouds that decorated the pale blue sky above. The tidy surrounding grounds stretching for miles, and rooted right in front, next to the gravelly driveway was an evergreen, spirally branched monkey puzzle tree. It was nothing less than celestial. A piece of heaven that you could call home.

It was the first morning you hadn’t suffered from sickness and apart from the exhaustion you felt from exploring and getting acquainted with your new house, you felt a lot brighter than you had done in weeks. A brightness which was soon to be disturbed by your anxious thoughts worrying about what was transpiring back in London; What was Charles thinking now you hadn’t returned? Would he have gone to your mothers thinking you was there? You hoped not. Your mother was innocent, you didn’t want her getting dragged into all this.

You tensed when a strong set of arms circled your waist then relaxed instantly when you felt Alfie’s beard tickle your neck as he planted a kiss there.

“Have you managed to get hold of him yet?” You asked him about Tommy.

“Na.” He sighed into your hair. “What about Ada?”

“I tried the hotel but they said she checked out yesterday.” You replied. Disappointed you hadn’t been able to get in touch but grateful that she was away from this spiralling mess.

“Try not to worry, pet. We’ll sort it.”

You nodded faintly, unable to share or find comfort in his resolute optimism. You leaned back into him and pulled his arms tighter around you as if the security of his burly prison would grant you the extra reassurance you needed.

“Shall we go for a walk on the beach?” You suggested a suitable, much desired distraction.

“I can’t today, Yahalom... I’ve gotta pop back to London.” He explained almost casually.

“What?” You choked, turning in his arms to check the seriousness of his excuse.

“I’ve some loose ends I need to tie up and I’ve gotta pick up Cyril as wel-“

“Can’t you get someone else to do all that for you?” You interrupted sharply.

“There’s things that need my personal attention. Signatures and suc-“

“-Then I’m coming back with you.” You told him before he could once again finish.

“No, you’re not.” He scoffed.

“I need to go back!” You insisted sternly. “I need to collect some things. I’m going to need more clothes.”

“I brought all the clothes you left at mine. They’re in the wardrobe. Anything else you need I’ll buy for you.”

“You can’t stop me from coming with you.”

“Wanna bet?” He challenged.

“You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you? That’s why you don’t want me tagging along. You’re going back there to try and handle this yourself.” You surmised with an increasing dread tightening your insides.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous!” He huffed. “I’ve got unfinished business back there thanks to our sudden and fortuitous get away yesterday. So I need to go back and sort ‘em out today. And you coming with me means I ain’t gonna be able to deal with anything because I’ll be too busy worrying about what you’re getting up to.” He stipulated brusquely.

“Oh don’t give me that, Alf. You could still worry about me down here on my own. I Could fall and hit my head. Anything could happen.”

“I’ve thought of that.” He agreed with a nod. “That’s why I’ve arranged for Ishmael and Daniel to come down and keep an eye on you while I’m gone.”

“Babysitters?”

“Peace of mind, pet.” He corrected.

“What about my peace of mind?” You demanded. Alfie returning to London for any amount of time made you feel ill with unease.

“I’m old enough and ugly enough look after myself, in’t I? I won’t be long, a few hours at most.”

The shrill ring of the doorbell interrupted your stand off and stopped you from arguing further.

Neither of you moved to answer it.

“I don’t wanna leave ‘ere on an argument, Yahalom.”

“Then don’t leave.”

He sighed heavily. “The sooner I go, the sooner I can get back.”

The bell rung again.

“Fuck sake! Hold on a minute!” Alfie roared towards the closed front door.

“Please, my love. I’m begging you, don’t go back there until you’ve spoken to Tommy. At least see what he has to say about all this.” Desperately your pained eyes beseeched him to stay.

“I don’t need to run anything past anyone. I handle my own business, right.” He gritted angrily.

“That’s not what I meant-“ You were cut off by the bell ringing a third time followed by knuckles rapping loudly on the door.

“Are them cunts deaf?” Alfie bellowed before turning his broad, slightly hunched shoulders and marching to the front door.

You followed him, stopping at the bottom of the staircase which stood opposite the door.

“Fine, go back without me.” You told him just as he reached for the door handle. “But be Warned, if you’re not back here by dusk then I’ll be on my way to London to look for you.” You threatened, abruptly turning on your heel and retreating up the stairs, leaving him to greet your babysitters.

Alfie grunted, muttering something in Yiddish as he answered the door.

“What took you so long?” Alfie demanded as way of a greeting.

“Sorry, boss. The traffic was a joke.” Daniel explained.

“I’m gonna be fucking late now.” Alfie moaned. “Listen carefully...” He carried on in a hushed tone. “Don’t let ‘er out of your sight, right. And under no fucking circumstances let her leave ‘ere.”

With a vicious foreboding you observed Alfie leave from the bedroom window. You had purposely bid him a cold and transient farewell in hopes he would realise the purgatory he was subjecting you to and maybe change his mind, but it appeared he was determined in his return. Now without the consolation of a proper goodbye, you watched with choked desolation and worry as he left.

Aided by his cane, he trudged towards his automobile. He opened the car door and hesitated. Turning at the hip, his eyes rose to the bedroom window and connected with yours. Your breath caught in the back of your throat, your sweaty palm pressing against the frame of the window to steady your wavering.

“Please come back to me safely and in one piece.” You implored him quietly.

He winked as if hearing your silent plea and with one last longing look he was gone.

You peeled yourself away from the window once he had driven out of sight and debated how you could occupy yourself over the next few hours so they wouldn’t be longer and more gut wrenchingly painful than they was already going to be. The first thing you decided to do was call your mother to make sure she was ok and to see if Charles had popped by looking for you.

You chose to use the phone in Alfie’s office, the four walls that were predominantly him supplying your heavy heart with comfort from his absence.

Lifting the receiver of the telephone, you asked to operator to put you through.

A mess of papers littered Alfies desk and you tried to put order to them as you waited for the call to connect. A piece of paper scribbled with an address of one of Alfie’s warehouses and a time of 12 o’clock stole your attention.

The call connected the same time as the ring of the doorbell. Your brow furrowed at the unexpected noise coming from downstairs. Maybe it was Alfie having forgotten something. Thinking no more of it, you left it to one of the men to answer it.

“Hello?” Your mothers voice croaked impatiently a second time down the line.

“Mum? Are you ok?” You asked, relieved to hear her voice.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me. Are you ok?” You asked again but her reply was drowned out by a sudden fracas erupting from downstairs. You held the receiver away from your ear to garner more clearly what was unfolding. Two loud, horribly familiar bangs pierced the air followed by silence. You jumped up from Alfie’s desk with a gasp, your mothers questioning voice still tumbling down the receiver that was rattling in your now trembling grasp.

“I’ll call you back.” You murmured quickly and put the phone down.

Resisting the urge, somewhat instinctively to call out and break the deafening silence, you instead left Alfies office and proceeded tentatively downstairs to investigate. Your cautious steps grinded to a harrowing halt as you came face to face with Luca Changretta. Time seemed to stand still as shock sucked the air from your lungs and robbed you of your ability to scream. In your peripheral vision you saw the bodies of Ishmael and Daniel, both covered in crimson and lying motionless on the floor.

Transfixed with utter disbelief and fear, your wide and frightened eyes focused back on the Sicilian devil and his two minions. Luca removed the matchstick he was chewing on and gave you a discerningly wicked grin, revealing in just a look that he knew everything. Coming to your senses, you turned instantly and flighted back up the stairs away from him.

“Get her.” You heard him order his two henchmen who padded heavily up the stairs after you.

You took the steps hurriedly, two at a time just making it to the top when your foot clumsily clipped the last step. You lost balance, stumbling forward and smashing your head unforgivingly on the opposing wall. Dazed, you tried scrambling to your feet in a last ditch attempt to escape but the blow to your head wouldn’t allow it. With a helpless groan you sunk dizzily back to the floor. Your surroundings became foggy and the chasing shadows blocked out all light as they neared. Any effort at fleeing was now futile but still you persisted, clawing your way desperately along the carpeted floor, not giving up until you felt a pair of forceful hands tug at your waist.

Alfie drove straight from Margate to his warehouse where he had arranged to meet Luca Changretta. He waited a full 45 minutes before a van pulled in to join him. He watched carefully as Luca emerged from the passenger seat followed by his men. Alfie was outnumbered by two, and quickly his mind weighed up the probabilities of him walking out of there alive. He concluded that the odds were in his favour considering what they had arranged in their first meeting; Luca needed Alfie to take one of his men as his second to the fight in Birmingham so they could get to Thomas Shelby and kill him. Making Alfie a indispensable asset - for now anyway.

“You’re late!” Alfie’s voice boomed, echoing through the expanse of the bare warehouse. “Now you better tell me what the fuck this is all about, mate? I mean we’ve made the fucking deal, in’t we? What more is there to say?”

“We made the deal Mr. Solomons.” Luca agreed. “But the truth is I don’t fucking trust you.” The matchstick in his mouth rolled from one side to the other. “Ya see, I’ve heard a lot about the devious reputation you’re notorious for Mr. Solomons. And you selling out your peaky pal, it got me thinking that I need some sort of... insurance, in case that fickle brain of yours is planning on double-crossing me.”

“What the fuck you on about?” Alfie frowned deeply.

“You’re a tough nut to crack Mr. Solomons, I’ll give ya that. No close family, no wife or children. I dug deep looking for some way in which I could feel more secure in our deal but I couldn’t find a fucking thing... But then our mutual friend Sabini told me something very interesting. Ya see, he had the great fortune of bumping into a whore that you’ve been seeing.” Luca removed the matchstick from his mouth and pointed it at Alfie, his eyes gleaming dangerously. “And, well...according to her, you’re not as untouchable as I thought... I just can’t believe it’s been right under my nose all this time.”

Vacantly, Alfie stared at him. “Well it’s fucking big enough, innit. I mean, I’m surprised you can see fuck all with a conk like that...”

Luca’s teeth caught the match he was chewing and bit down on it hard.

“Listen mate, if you wanted to know the size of my cock you should’ve just asked instead of chasing rumours like a headless fucking chicken. Now, why you’d be foolish enough to trust the word of a whore, I don’t know. But it still doesn’t change the fact that I ain’t got a clue what you’re rambling on about. So do us both a favour, yeah, stop beating round the bush with that smarmy fucking arrogance of yours and lay your cards on the table.” Alfie spouted stoically. Although he had begun to feel heavy with apprehension.

“Ok. I figured you’d play dumb.” Luca gave a blasé nod, then signalled to his right hand man. “Matteo! Lay my cards on the table for Mr. Solomons. Let’s see if that will help jog his memory.”

Alfies heart leapt up in to his mouth as he watched with knitted brows, Matteo step to the back of the van they had arrived in and pull the doors open wide. He reached into the back and dragged you from the vehicle. Bound and gagged you could do no more than comply. You were planted on your feet and guided forcefully forward. Your watery, bloodshot eyes bulging as they raised from the ground and fell upon a morosely stunned Alfie. A muffled version of his name erupted helplessly from your throat but was silenced by the material wedged in your mouth.

Alfie stood aghast, seized with an impotent anger. His body trembled from head to toe with an agonising rage that he was struggling to contain. It had finally happened; what he dreaded the most, what he fought diligently for so long to avoid.

“Not so fucking cocky now are we Mr. Solomons.” Luca smirked, strolling to your side.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, mate.” Alfie started tensely. “Me and ‘er was just a bit of fun, right. She don’t mean nothing like that to me.” His forged confession sounded pitiful even to his own ears but out of desperation for your safety it was all he could do.

“Is that so? Then you won’t mind if I blow her fucking brains out.” Luca mocked, producing a gun from his belt. You flinched when the cold metal of the narrow muzzle landed at your temple.

Alfie growled, immediately whipping his own gun from the waistband of his trousers and pointing it at Luca. Automatically Luca’s henchmen drew their weapons and directed them at Alfie.

“As I thought.” Unfazed, Luca clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “It’s amazing what good pussy can do to a man.” He hummed, sliding the gun down your tear soaked face to your breasts. When the material of your dress stopped him from going any further he cocked his head disdainfully in Alfie’s direction, his thin lips curling up into a superior smirk.

“It pains me to see you like this Mr. Solomons.” He lied, enjoying the power he had over the squirming Jew. “But your dirty little secret’s out. You might as well put your weapon down and give it up.”

“Let ‘er go now or the deal’s off.” Alfie warned tightly.

Deal? You thought. What deal?

“You’re a funny guy, Mr Solomons, thinking I’m going to let go of something this priceless that easily. This here is my insurance. This here is giving me the absolute confidence that I needed to ensure that you don’t fuck me over.” Luca rasped. “Nothing’s changed, the deal still goes ahead as we planned and I still honour your costs for doing so. Then once the deed is done, I meet you outside of Birmingham and hand back the girl. As I’m sure you can understand, it’s nothing personal, just business... I mean, I suppose it is a lil personal actually considering Y/N’s meant to be betrothed to my cousin.” He glared in your direction.

“Na, that’s not gonna happen, mate - Because trust works both ways dunnit and I know for a fact, right, that you ain’t got no intentions of handing her back, dun’ I?”

“And what makes you say that?” Luca asked, seemingly bemused.

“Well once this deed’s done and I’ve fulfilled my part of it, it’ll make no difference to you if I’m dead or alive, will it? So granted, you’ll meet me outside Birmingham afterwards with the girl but only to put a bullet in my head and hers. So unless we come to some sort of compromise, the deal is off.”

“And what compromise do you suggest?”

“I want ‘er at the fight. I want eyes on ‘er the whole time-“

“-You want me to send her to the fight unaccompanied?” An incredulous Luca interrupted Alfie. “What, so you can run off into the sunset together before Shelby’s been dealt with and screw me over? No, no, no. She’ll need a chaperone at least. Someone I can trust...” He thought for a moment, and while he deliberated your mind struggled to process what you were hearing. Alfie had made a deal with Changretta to kill Thomas. You sobbed, shaking your head vigorously in protest, wishing it wasn’t so, wishing that your life didn’t now depend on it.

“Charles - as her rightful fiancé, he will accompany her.” Luca’s proposition quietened you but your inner turmoil worsened. “I’m assuming that’s no longer the case now though, huh?” He addressed you. “I wonder what he’ll have to say about all this.” He tutted.

“That’s not happening either.” Alfie told him through gritted teeth.

“Mr. Solomons.” Luca sighed exasperated. “You’re acting as if you have a choice in the matter. Be grateful, huh? You requested a compromise and I’ve given you one. Y/N will be at the fight as you wish, with Charles who I trust and who’ll be under strict instructions to behave himself. Then once it’s done he’ll hand her over. However, I want to make myself clear, Mr. Solomons, any funny business before my men carry out their duty, then all bets are off.”

“Alright.” Alfie grunted. “But let me also make myself clear, yeah, if any harms done to her, I will unleash it back on to the lot of you fucking threefold, mate. Make no mistake about it.”

Luca grinned. “Let me assure you that Y/N will be in safe hands. She’ll be heavily guarded until the fight... bare that in mind if your thinking about attempting a rescue, it would be a shame to ruin that beautiful face of hers just because you’ve tried to be a hero.”

Alfie said no more but you could tell he was seething. His furious gaze moved from Luca to you, his eyes softening ruefully. Tears fell helplessly down your cheeks as you stared back at him, your anguished look willing him wordlessly not to go through with it.

“I’ve gotta say it’s refreshing to see this softer side to you Mr. Solomons.” Luca admitted teasingly. “Let me tell ya, if I had a heart it’d be breaking right now - but I don’t, so now we’ve come to an understanding, Imma get this show back on the road.” Luca grabbed one of your shackled arms and tugged you backwards towards the van, pulling harder as you tried to resist, Alfie lurched forward angrily to intervene, stopping when Luca’s henchmen once again drew their weapons on him.

“Remember what I said about being a hero, Mr. Solomons.” Luca Cautioned. “Don’t worry, just a couple more days and you’ll be reunited.” Luca reasoned as he bundled you into the back of the van and slammed the doors.

“Oh, and I have to apologise...” You heard Luca’s muffled voice continue through the metal of van.

“I made a bit of an unavoidable mess in that beautiful house of yours. Just add the cost of the clean up to the bill.”

The van wobbled as the men occupied the front seats

“Toodle pip.” Luca bid Alfie farewell in a mock British accent, and the engine of the van roared, then after a beat the it took off, throwing you forward. Unable to keep balance you collapsed weakly onto your back and just laid there, staring into the darkness. Visions of Luca’s smug mug and Alfies tortured frown plagued your mind, followed by the horrendous, gory image of Ischmael and Daniels expired bodies; their blood spent at your expense. Then your imagination ran wild with the things that hadn’t happened yet. Like the treacherous murder of Thomas Shelby, and the anger, pain and plotted vengeance of the peaky gang for the loss of their leader and kin... But possibly worse than that - due mainly to its imminence, was the dreaded notion of having to face Charles. Luca’s words rung hauntingly in your head

‘ wonder what Charles will have to say about all this?’

You wasn’t worried so much about what Charles was going to say but more so about what he was going to do...

Tag list: @storm-bjorn @alsheyra @lililolli @jaegers-and-kaijus @lightwoodt @stars-trash-18 @anrm1 @innerpaperexpertcloud @alitheamateur @hardygal69

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #Alfie Solomons fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fanfiction

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torialeysha · 3 years

Text

Cold feet - Part 16

Bakers redemption

A/N: I’m on a roll guys! Your love, patience and support for this story fuels my fire for writing, a fire I thought I had lost and for that I am eternally grateful. Thank you all <3

Songs: Carry me home - Jorja Smith ft Maverick Sabre

Can’t buy happiness - Tash Sultana

Fortunately the awkwardness of the journey home was lost on you as all you could do was think about Alfie. You questioned the sincerity of his visit and wondered why it had taken him so long to realise you had lied about the ridiculous possibility of him not being the father of your unborn baby? He had asked you for forgiveness. A shot at redemption. Could you give it to him? Could you allow him another chance when he had already let you down not once but twice? Were you foolish enough to give him the opportunity to do it again? Would he do it again? He said that he had seen the error of his ways and that he really did want the baby. Did he mean it? Could you believe him even if he did? He said he could prove it to you and you were curious to see how. Silently you pondered, driving yourself insane with question after question that regrettably you didn’t have the answers to.

After a tedious battle with the London traffic the car finally pulled up outside the opulent townhouse Charles was renting. The atmosphere still frosty and tense as you crossed it’s threshold. You were in the process of removing your coat when one of the butlers collared Charles.

“There’s a Mr Changretta waiting for you in the lounge, sir.” He announced casually as he took your coat. Your hair immediately stood on end.

“Ok. I’ll be right there. Meanwhile, could you please fetch Ms Y/L/N something to eat.” Charles hands his coat to the butler then turns to you. “I won’t be long. Feel free to start without me.” He told you coldly. But you were no longer worried about food and more concerned about the fact that Luca Changretta was in the next room.

Fraught, you staggered to the dining room and began to pace, anxiously wondering what the occupants next door were discussing. You manoeuvred towards the wall that separated the lounge from the dining room and placed your ear against it, hoping that the divide was thin enough to be able to hear their conversation. Their muffled voices vibrated through the wall. You edged closer to the crack of the locked double doors that connected the two rooms and the voices got slightly clearer.

“...And you really trust this broad? You’re sure she isn’t the problem?” It was Luca’s voice.

“Of course I trust her! I wouldn’t have involved her if I didn’t.”

“How much does she know?”

“Hardly anything. She asked me some questions about the club. Why I bought it for her and why I insisted I put it in her name and not mine, but her curiosity is only natural, Luca.”

Your stomach rolled realising they were talking about you.

“What did you tell her?”

“I fed her some bullshit about wanting to give her the world.”

“Nice. So she doesn’t know anything about the money coming in from New York?”

“No, I take care of the books and I keep them locked in my safe.”

“Good.”

There was a brief silence before Luca spoke again.

“Tell me, Cuz, what are your feelings for this broad? You still intend on marrying her when this is all over?”

Cuz? Why would Luca call Charles that?

“Yes. I love her.”

Charles’ confession made you feel sick.

There’s another long pause before Luca speaks again.

“Then you have my blessing. But I’m warning ya, I don’t know if my dear Aunt will be as accepting. You know how she only wants the best for her son.”

Cousin? Aunt? Son? You felt the colour drain from your face as realisation dawned on you.

“Y/N is best for me. Now can we please stop discussing my personal life and get back to business.”

“Of course. I hear what you’re saying about the Jew but we need him alive for now. I think he’ll be able to help us deal with Thomas Shelby.”

“Solomon’s is tight with Shelby. There’s no way he’d sell him out.”

“Oh, he will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse... Don’t look so worried, Chuck, all will be revealed soon. You just carry on doing what you’re doing and remember that we’re doing this per la famiglia. Luca’s foreign tongue made you shudder. “Once Solomon’s, Shelby and Sabini are dealt with. London will be ours for the taking.”

You pulled away from the door just as Charles was asking about Sabini. You had heard enough.

It was worse than you or Tommy had anticipated. Charles and Luca wasn’t just business relations, they were blood relations. His money was their money. Your time and efforts had been in vain. Any hope of sabotaging their connection was gone. Replaced with an overwhelming sense of alarming trepidation. You had to leave. There was no way you could stay now knowing what you know.

The main door of the dining room swung open, startling you.

“I’m terribly sorry miss. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The flustered housemaid apologised as she shuffled in with your supper.

“Please don’t apologise.” You told her shakily.

“You’re white as a sheet! I must’ve given you a proper fright. Poor thing. Sit ya self down and I’ll fetch you something to drink.”

“No, no. I’m fine. It’s just-I’ve received word today that my friend isn’t well and it’s come as quite a shock. I would like to check on her to see if she’s feeling better. Could you let Mr Fenton know that I’m going to visit her and I won’t be back until later.”

“Of course, Miss, but what about your tea?” She signals to the silver tray she’s carrying.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. I’ll eat it when I return.”

“Ok, Miss. I’ll put it by for later.” She took off with the tray of food and without a second thought you made for the door without even stopping for your coat or purse.

In a daze you wandered down the street, feeling hopelessly lost in a city that had been your home for 20 odd years. You headed north, knowing that regardless of your current uncertainty towards Alfie you would have to warn him and get word to Tommy. Without your purse you had no money to jump on a bus or the underground. Your only option was to trudge the busy late afternoon streets to your destination. It would take roughly an hour to get from Central to Camden, probably the same amount of time it would take Charles to suspect something was amiss. It was a distressing thought that caused you to pick up pace. To make up time you decided to take a shortcut that lead you along the river and down the canals. It was a risky move as the muddy banks of the canals were refuge to some unsavoury characters - mainly drunkards - desperate men that would find easy prey on a young woman trekking the waterways on her own.

The sun was slowly sinking into twilight by the time you had reached Camden lock. Despite your exhaustion you were relieved to have made it in one piece but you shouldn’t have spoke too soon. In the distance you could see a group of what looked like 3 men huddled together along the path which you needed to pass to get across to the bakery. Your blistered feet slowed but it was too late, they had already spotted you. You quickly tried to think of an alternative route. The only other way was to swim across but jumping in and braving the grim green water that was frothing with rubbish and other questionable substances wasn’t tempting to say the least. There was nothing you could do now except carry on walking with your chin held high as if their shady presence didn’t intimidate you. You argued with yourself as you approached that maybe you had jumped to a brash assumption and that they were in fact a harmless trio who would just let you pass without a second glance. As you got closer they rose from their makeshift perches and swayed towards you. It was then you knew that your brash assumption had been correct.

“Evening treacle.” One slurred. “What brings you down ‘ere then?” He smiled, revealing a row of yellow teeth that were gradually rotting a browny black. You ignored him and tried to pass but he obstructed you.

“Let me pass!” You ordered him.

“Now then, that’s not nice. You could at least ask nicely. Say please.” He slurred.

“Please let me pass.” You said through gritted teeth.

The other two came to stand beside him. Panicking, you tried hard to conceal the trembling of your body.

“Beg.” He tells you through a snarl.

“I love it when they beg.” One of the other men chimed in, earning a chortle from his soapy comrades.

You laugh as if joining in with their sadistic merriment. Then quick as a whippet you tried to barge through their burly blockade, effectively knocking one of the men into the drink. The middle one grabbed you. You turned as he did so, kneeing him between the legs. He dropped to the floor and you made to escape but was grabbed again by the last remaining man. His filthy hand covered your mouth, cutting you off mid scream. You thrashed in his arms. Your eyes widening as the man on the floor rose slowly.

“We’ve got a feisty one ‘ere, Del.”

“Let’s see how feisty she is once I’ve finished with ‘er.” The man you knocked to the floor was now fully upright, stalking towards you.

You closed your eyes, helplessly awaiting your fate.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off ‘er!”

Your eyes shot open at the unmistakable voice coming from behind you.

The man turned suddenly with you still in his arms. Your eyes landed on Alfie and Ollie and you wanted to cry out in relief.

“Mr Solomon’s - I was only helping the poor Lass. She was lost, ya see.” He muttered a sheepish reply. His arms loosening around you. You pushed away from him stricken and lurched into Alfie’s arms.

“Are you ok, Yahalom?” He asked, pushing away the hair from your face and checking you over for any sign of injury.

You noded, clinging to him.

“Run!” One of the men shouted and they both fled in opposite directions. The one who had hold of you tried to leg-it past Alfie who with a flick of his cane tripped him before he could get any further. Alfie pushed you to Ollie, and pounced on top of the fallen man. Savagely he landed a shocking set of bone crunching blows upon the sputtering and sobbing man on the floor.

You started to shake uncontrollably. Your chest heaving to draw in breaths.

“Alfie, stop now. You’re scaring ‘er!” Ollie yelled at Alfie who stopped immediately.

“Get ‘er out of ‘ere!” He shouted.

You felt Ollie tug on your arm.

“No-I c-can’t go-I need t-to talk to A-alfie.” You chattered numbly.

“It’s ok, Y/N. Let’s wait for him inside and you can talk to him then, yeah?” Ollie asked you soothingly. You stopped resisting, allowing him to guide you over the bridge of the canal and inside the huge double door entrance of the bakery. He set you down on a crate.

“Are you ok?” Ollie asked. Kneeling in front of you.

You shook your head from side to side, unable to speak through the loud chattering of your teeth.

“We were just leaving. You’re lucky we spotted you, ya know.”

You didn’t answer him. Instead you reached out and gave his hand a grateful squeeze.

Alfie exploded through the doors, making you and Ollie jump. His blood splattered face was a fit of pure rage.

“How many fucking times have I told you not to walk the canals on your own? If me and him would have left ‘ere half hour ago like we were supposed to, what would have happened then, ay?” His eyes flickered as he tortured himself pointlessly with the sickening possibilities.

“Alright, Alfie. Calm down, ay? We left at the right time and luckily Y/N weren’t hurt-“ Ollie started calmly before Alfie interrupted him.

“- You sure they didn’t hurt you?” Alfie asked.

“I’m sure.”

“The fuck was you thinking, Pet?” His stern voice was slightly softer now.

“I-I wasn’t-“

“-Where’s your coat?” He asked suddenly. “Them cunts take it?”

“No, I left it behind-there was n-no time- I had t-to get out of there fast-I left my coat behind along with my p-purse-I’ve had to walk from Central-thats why I t-took the sh-shortcut.” You stuttered senselessly, barely pausing to take a breath. Alfie took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. You pulled it tightly around yourself. His musky scent clung to the heavy wool material that was still warm with the heat of his body. You inhaled deeply, feeling instantly calmer. “I couldn’t stay there, Alfie. I had to leave, I had to get out of there!”

“Calm down, Yahalom, and tell me exactly what’s happened?” He ordered, his eyes wild.

“It’s Charles. He and Lu-ca Changretta are related. They’re cousins. I-I overheard them talking. They said something about money coming in from New York and taking over London. They’re going to take down everyone in their way - you, Tommy, even Sabini. Everything Tommy said is true and there’s nothing I can do about it. We have to warn Thomas.”

Alfie exchanged a look with Ollie.

“Did he know you were listening in on his conversation?” Ollie asked.

“No. But he’ll know I’m missing by now and maybe he’ll put two and two together. I told the housemaid to tell him I was visiting an ill friend but I’m not sure he’ll believe that.”

“Right then. Well, first things first.” Alfie put his arms around your shoulders and lifted you gently from where you rested. “I need to get you out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay here and help sort this.” You told him wilfully.

“You’ve done all you can, pet. Let me and Tommy deal with this now.”

“So all of this was for nothing? Me staying with Charles, weeks of misery and sneaking around. That was all for nothing?”

“This isn’t your fight, Y/N. It never was your fight.” Alfie sighed.

“They’re planning on killing you, Alfie - the father of my unborn baby. Tell me how that isn’t my fight?” You sobbed angrily.

He grabbed your shoulders, shaking you lightly.

“Look at me.” He said firmly. Your wide eyes rose to his. “I can handle it, right. What I can’t handle is the worry of anything happening to you. Which is why I’m getting you out of ‘ere, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. I’m taking you and that unborn baby of mine to safety. You ‘ear me? That’s our priority now, yeah?”

“...Yeah.” You whispered, knowing he was right.

“Come on.”

You held on to him as you walked, your weary feet stinging with every faltered step you took.

“You need me to carry you?” He asked.

You shook your head weakly.

The sun had now almost set but the brightness outside was still blinding as you emerged from the darkness of the distillery.

“Get in the car.” Alfie ordered.

You did as he said, sliding into the front passenger seat and trying to avoid looking across the canal where your attacker still lay, a lifeless crumpled, mess on the floor. You blocked it out and focused on Alfie through the windscreen instead. He was leant into Ollie, telling him something. Ollie gave him a contrite nod and handed him what looked like a set of keys. With a pat on the back, Alfie left him to climb in to the drivers seat. He started the engine.

“Isn’t Ollie coming with us?”

“Na. He’s got to sort a few things out for me.” He replied, shoving the shift stick into gear and pulling off. You watched him intently. An unsolicited heat crept over you as he manoeuvred the machine with a confident ease that you couldn’t help but find alluring.

“Where are we going?” You asked croakily.

“Let me worry about that, right. You look exhausted. Rest your head and I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Too weak to argue you did just that. Leaning your head against the window which was slick with condensation. The soft purr of the cars engine lulled you rapidly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

You were roused from your confined slumber by Alfie as he lifted you from the passenger seat into his arms. Your neck throbbed where you had laid awkwardly propped up against the window for God knows how long. You let the aching heaviness of your head rest against Alfies chest as he carried you. A whooshing noise echoed familiarly in the blustery background, intertwined with what sounded like crunching gravel beneath Alfie’s feet as he walked. Curiously your sluggish eyes peered at your surroundings. You could just about make out the silhouette of a building and an unusual looking tree against the dark blue of the night sky.

Exhausted, your head fell back onto Alfie’s chest and you buried your face in the crook of his neck to shield it from the tenacious chill of the night air. He came to a stop holding you tightly with one arm as the other searched his trouser pocket. A jingling of keys and the sound of the lock turning, then you were finally inside and out of the cold.

The smell of fresh paint and varnish filled your nostrils as he carried you over the foreign residence. After kicking the door closed with his foot, you felt him ascend a set of stairs in the darkness, effortlessly, as if he was already well acquainted with the steps. A door creaked open and then shortly after you were being lowered. You unfolded from him as he placed you on the soft cushioning of a mattress. Your head sunk into the fluffy pillows, your arms stretching across the width of the spacious bed. Your eyes opened when you realised Alfie wasn’t joining you.

“Don’t leave me.” You begged.

“Sssh.” He soothed softly. His heavy hand brushing back your hair from your face. “You’re safe now, Yahalom.”

Your eyes closed, his reassuring tone and tender touch settling you back to sleep.

You awoke with a start. Looking around the huge room that was now highlighted by an orange hue emanating from the fire that crackled and danced in the fireplace adjacent to the bed. The ceaseless whooshing you heard earlier broke in from a set of french doors to your left and you raised from the bed to investigate. Pulling back the floor length curtains that decorated them, you were shocked to see the mosaicked balcony and the beach landscape that it overlooked. At a glance it appeared that Alfie had stolen you away from the perilous situation in London and brought you to Margate - your safe haven. But what was this place? It wasn’t a B&B or a hotel because you remembered that Alfie had entered with a key - you assumed the same key Ollie had handed him before you left. You glanced around the room once more, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings causing you great unease. And it was quiet, too quiet. Where was Alfie?

You poked your nose out of the bedroom door and peeked down the length of the darkened hallway. A sliver of warm light shone from a partially open door of one of the rooms and cautiously you ambled towards it. You lingered outside, your nerves settling when you heard Alfie’s hushed tone beyond the wood.

“Did you get hold of the rabbi?”

There was a long pause before Alfie spoke again.

“I don’t care what fucking time it is just keep trying. I want him up ‘ere by the end of the week, before the fight... Yeah? Well make-fucking-sure.” You heard a crashing bang which you guessed was the receiver of the telephone being put down on whoever Alfie was talking to.

“Are you gonna stand out there all fucking night or you gonna come in?” He shouted out to you, causing you to smile.

You entered slowly, stalling in the doorway.

Alfie was sat at a desk, a much neater, more fancier desk than the one he usually occupied at the bakery.

“You alright?” He asked, watching you intently as you came to sit in front of him.

You nodded absentmindedly, too busy taking in the plush interior of the room.

“Did you speak to Tommy?” You asked eagerly, your eyes finally meeting his. He waited a moment before answering you.

“Na, I ain’t been able to get hold of him. I’ll try again in the morning...You sure you’re alright?”

“Where are we?” You queried, ignoring his question.

“Margate.”

“No, I mean here.” You pointed to where you were sat. “Whose house is this?”

“This is our house.” He said casually.

You look at him stunned. Your mouth agape.

“Our house?”

He nodded simply.

“W-when? How?” You stuttered, dumbfounded.

“I bought it a while back, after I saw you again at the Eden. It was in a bit of a two an’ eight when I bought it. Taken me an’ the boys a little while to do up.”

“I’m confused.” You shook your head. “You’ve bought a house in Margate? But we’re so far away from London, from your businesses. What about the bakery?”

“I’m retiring, Yahalom. I’ve sold up all the properties I own and I’ve handed the bakery down to Ollie. This was my plan all along. The only way I knew I could keep you safe.”

It took you a moment to process everything and still you were stunned speechless.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I thought this was what you wanted?” He cites.

“It was-“

Alfie narrowed his eyes at your use of past tense.

“-I mean is.” You corrected swiftly before carrying on “It’s just come as a bit of a shock is all.”

“Hmm.” He let out a suspicious grunt. “It’s not the best timing after the day you’ve had, I get that. But that was out of my control wern’it?”

You nodded solemnly. Still trying to wrap your head around everything.

“I thought you’d be happy, Yahalom?”

“I am.” You frowned.

“At least show it then. Crack a smile or summin. You’ve got a face like a slapped arse at the minute.” You heard a frustrated annoyance creep into the grimmess of his voice.

“I don’t know how I feel about it, if I’m being honest. The last few months have been a whirlwind for me. I haven’t slept properly in days, weeks even. Weary to the bone. Wracked with guilt and worry. I honestly don’t know wether I’m coming or going. And now you’re telling me that you’re selling up. Leaving behind everything you’ve worked so hard to build and for what?”

“For us!” He barked. “For us to be together without the worry of someone hurting you to hurt me. And yeah, I’ve worked hard, I’ve earn’t my money, however, it’s time for me to rest now and enjoy the fruits of my labour.”

“I’m not sure, Alf...” You hummed uneasily.

“What’s there to be unsure of?”

“I still ain’t sure this is what you really want!” You snapped frustratedly. “A quiet life by the sea, a child you never wanted...I just can’t see it.” You admitted sadly.

He exhaled harshly, rising from his desk and stepping round to extend a hand to you.

“Come with me. I wanna show you something.”

Reluctantly you took his offered hand and let him guide you back out into the hallway and along to a room that was situated next to the one you had been resting in earlier.

He opened the door and moved aside for you to enter.

The waxing moon shon brightly through the bare windows, lighting up the room with it’s spectacular lunar glow. You stepped through noticing immediately the cot that lay new and empty against the far wall, next to it was a matching chest of drawers and a rocking horse that looked like it had been plucked from a fairground carousel.

Your eyes shot to Alfie whose bear like frame was leant in the doorway studying your reaction.

“When did you do this?”

“A couple of days ago. The room needs a lick of paint but I thought you might wanna choose the colour.” He came to join you in the centre of the room.

“So you did all this before you come to see me? Before you were even certain that the baby yours?...Why?”

He was silent for a moment, deep in thought.

He shrugged. “I s’pose deep down I knew you were lying and that the baby was mine... or maybe I didn’t fucking care, I dunno... doing this...it just felt right.”

“But you said-“

“-I know what I said but saying don’t mean fuck all does it. Actions speak louder than words.” He motions to the room. “And this speaks fucking volumes, dunnit. I mean if this doesn’t prove to you that this is what I really want then I don’t know what will.”

Reassurance drifted over you as you looked once again around the unfinished nursery.

“Say something.” He requested quietly.

Wordlessly you rushed to him and threw your arms around his broad shoulders.

“You like it then? You’re happy?” He confirmed uncertainly.

“I do. I am. It’s...wonderful! Thank you!” You choked a reply, your voice struggling past the forming lump in your throat.

He pulled you closer, his shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted off them.

“You want me to show you round the rest of the house?” He whispered gruffly into your hair.

“Not tonight. Show me tomorrow in the daylight so I can properly take in the beauty of it all.”

“Alright. Well, what shall we do now then?” You were sure you heard a seductive undertone in his question and took full advantage.

“Take me to our bed.”

“You ain’t gotta ask me twice.” He said. His eyes lighting up at your words.

You squealed when he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the next room.

“Cor blimey. You’ve got heavier already.” He huffs.

“Oh give over, I ain’t even showing properly yet. You’re just getting weaker with age, old man.” You teased him.

“Oi! I’ll have you know that there’s nothing wrong with my stamina and I will gladly prove that to you in a minute.” He threatened hotly. Sending your pulse racing. “There’s just one more thing I’ve got to do first.”

He set you down carefully on your own two feet.

“Can’t it wait?” You whined as he stepped away from you and headed towards the door.

“It won’t take me a minute.” He assured you.

You stood in the middle of the once unfamiliar room that you now knew was yours and Alfies. Sighing happily, you glided to the french doors and tried the handle. They opened willingly under your touch. The chill of the night air was refreshing as you stepped out on to the balcony. Leaning on the stone balaustrade, you observed the unrelenting waves that stretched the distance, relishing in the peacefulness of their crashing melody. Nothing could ruin this moment, not even the ugliness of the Changretta situation. All that mattered right now was your future with Alfie, a future that this morning never even existed.

“Yahalom?” Alfie called, having returned.

You spun to look at him. He marched skittishly towards you, his hands behind his back, as he joined you on the balcony.

“I know I’ve asked you this before but as you so poignantly pointed out to me the other day, it’s a proposal that has since expired. So, I’m gonna ask you again... Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?” He asked gruffly, his eyes so intense you thought they could set you on fire. You gasped unexpectedly. Although it was the second time he had asked you, it was the first time you had heard him say those words aloud.

“Oh, Alfie. Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Thank fuck for that. Here then.�� He produced a ring that was hidden in his clenched fist behind his back. Grabbing your hand he slipped it on your finger. You stared down at it in awe. A ruby once again burned brightly on your finger but it wasn’t the one you were used to. You frowned down at the foreignness of the rings delicate beauty and the circle of winking diamonds that surrounded the red gem like a halo.

“I searched high and low for the other one in the bakery but couldn’t find it. So I bought you another one. D’you like it?”

“It’s beautiful... I was just expecting to see the old one.” You replied, your heart sinking at the thought of your first engagement ring being lost forever. It was only supposed to be a temporary ring, taken from Alfie’s pinky finger until he had gotten you a proper one. There wasn’t much to it just a thick gold band with a faceted ruby so red it was hypnotising. Back then you had persuaded Alfie not to buy a replacement, that you wanted to keep his one as every time you looked at it it reminded you of him. Now, thanks to yourself you’ll never see it again.

“That’s old hat now that one though, innit? a token of who we used to be. We’ve been through a lot of shit, right, shit I wanna leave in the past. I want us to have a fresh start, a clean slate, and this house and this ring is where it begins.”

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#alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #by order of the peaky blinders

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torialeysha · 3 years

Text

Cold Feet - Part 15

Shadow of doubt.

A/N: Hello my darlings! It’s been a while, too long a while, I know :( What an absolutely awful year it’s been for all of us! I can only hope that you’re all well and keeping safe. Here’s a long overdue cold feet update to keep you occupied.

Song: Paramore - Tell me how

A discordant racket sounded above the routine rumblings of the bakery. A muffle of raised voices and the righteous clicking of heels against the sticky floor mirrored by clumpier steps echoed down the cask laden hallways and seeped through the splintered wood of the makeshift door that separated Alfies office from the clamour of the distillery. Looking up from the cluttered mess of his desk, Alfie run a hand quickly through his dishevelled hair and down his overgrown beard while awaiting the approaching commotion with hopeful intrigue. He groaned disappointedly when a Brummie brunette breached the door with a fumbling Ollie in tow, his long, clumsy fingers attached to the fur trim of her expensive coat.

It was wishful thinking on Alfies part that it would have been you who had stormed the door instead of the peaky lass. It had been well over a week since he had last seen or heard from you. And he had invested all of those torturous days busying himself to try and take his restless mind and it’s various crazed voices off of you and the recent revelation that had pillaged his plans to save you both from the Italian shit storm that had blown in from the other side of the pond.

Still his mind struggled to come to terms with the news you were with child. He couldn’t comprehend what was worse, the daunting idea of becoming a father or the sickening possibility that the baby might not be his. His crooked teeth clenched painfully together at the mere thought of you being intimate with anyone other than himself. Of course you had assured him on countless occasions that nothing of the sort had ever or would ever happen between you and Charles. And Alfie had believed you. Trusted that it wasn’t in your nature to lie. Foolishly so now considering you were the one who had also told him of the possibility that he might not be the father. One was a lie but which one? It drove his already unhinged mind insane thinking about it. He tried to stay out of his head and ignore the little demented voices that would taunt him in the quietest hours, reminding him of all the times you and he had copulated over the years and never conceived, which in turn highlighted how coincidental it was that you should now fall pregnant after sharing a bed with another man.

Plagued with doubt and unsure of what to do, he did nothing. Shunning the situation altogether and letting his selfish pride take over and stop him from reaching out and doing the right thing.

“I tried to stop her!” Ollie explained.

“It’s alright, Ollie. Let ‘er in.”

Ada tore herself from Ollies hold with a look that could kill.

“The one who’s too righteous to use the Shelby name, ay? To what do I owe the displeasure?” Alfie casted an unyielding gaze curiously upon Thomas Shelby’s younger sibling, filled with an over-brewed distaste.

“Have you seen this?” Ignoring his provocative comments. Ada pulled a newspaper from under her arm and threw it on his desk. The daily publication landed in front of Alfie with a rustling slap. His curious gaze wandered lazily from her to the paper. It appeared that Ada had left it open on the specific page, considerately saving him the trouble of rooting through. He grabbed his glasses, balancing them on the bridge of his nose before beginning to read.

Ollie slid closer to the desk, pulling his wistful gaze from Ada he peeked down at the paper to see what would have piqued Alfies interest. The headline read Announcements. A full page worth of biliously boastful declarations. Taking up almost a quarter of the page and catching both of their attentions immediately was a photo of you and Charles. The print underneath proudly stating the news of your engagement.

Alfie studied the photo. Looking past the image of Charles’ to focus on you. He couldn’t help but notice how the black and white portrayal did you no justice. You looked tired. Your sparkling eyes dull and lifeless. The only hint of happiness was in the slight upturned curve of your painted lips.

“Fucking ‘ell.” He exclaimed with a sigh. “A life with him should be under obituaries. Please send her my deepest condolences.” Alfie leaned back in his chair with a resigned shrug of his shoulders. The sound of creaking leather beneath his tight grasp on the worn arms of his chair was the only giveaway of his teetering disposition.

“That’s all you’ve got to say? Come on, Alfie, you’ve got to do something about this now. This whole charade has gone on for far too long.”

“And what do you think you know about it?” Alfie boomed. “Sticking ya ore in one last time before you fuck off back up the canal to that shit hole you call home? You Shelbies are all the fucking same, mate. Always making something your business that ain’t your fucking business.”

“Finished?” Ada sighed. Unfazed by his outburst.

“Yeah, I am actually - for now anyway...”

A sceptical Ada waited for him to continue.

“...Take a seat then. Let me get you a drink.” Alfie pulls a bottle of whiskey from his draw. “Or do you want something softer? I mean, never can be sure if you’re up the duff again.”

“Alfie!” Ollie admonished.

“It’s alright, Ollie.” Ada assured him before turning her attention back to Alfie. “You can save the unpleasantries, Alfie. I know you can’t stand me and I can’t stand you either. But the truth is I’m not here for you. I’m here for Y/N. I’m worried about her. She’s in too deep with Charles. I’ve tried to tell her but she’s insistent on staying with him to protect you. You can’t let this carry on much longer, it’s too dangerous for her and the baby.”

Alfie’s eyes widened when Ada mentioned the baby.

“Yes, I know about the baby.” Ada exclaimed through a frustrated sigh. “Y/N’s told me everything.”

“Then you will also know why I ain’t doing fuck all about it.” Alfie grumbled dismissively.

“What are you on about?” Ads asked bemused.

“Hmm, it seems that you don’t know everything then, do ya?... The sprog might not be mine.” Although he tried hard to conceal it, the words pained Alfie.

“What on Earth would make you think such a thing?”

“Because she fucking told me! 1 in 2 possibility she said. And this ‘ere, right,” he pokes the paper. “Tells me exactly what horse she’s backing.”

“And you believed her?” Ads scoffed, shaking her head. “She hasn’t even slept with Charles, so how could it be his?”

“Well if that’s so then why would she tell me otherwise, ay?”

“...It doesn’t make sense...” Ada’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at him. “...You must have said something to her to make her spew a lie like that?”

“Well, lie or no lie, it’s done me a favour to tell you the truth-“ Alfie replied nonchalantly, deflecting her question.

Adas eyes narrowed further at Alfie’s flippant reaction before a bleak realisation washed over her.

“-Oh God! That’s it isn’t it. You told her you didn’t want the baby didn’t you?” Ada’s heart sunk at what she hoped was a wrong assumption.

“Not in so many words.”

“For crying out loud, Alfie. I can only imagine how hurtful that was for her to hear.” Ada paused for a moment. “Haven’t you stopped to think for a moment that that may have been the reason why she said you might not be the father? To hurt you like you’ve hurt her?”

“Listen ‘ere, right. You might be, but I ain’t no fucking fool-“

“-No.” She interrupts him. “You’re just an ignorant pig who doesn’t know Y/N as well as you think you do. She’d stop heaven and hell for you...I used to think you’d do the same for her - maybe I was wrong. Your judgment is cloudy, Solomon’s. Clear your head and come to your senses before it’s too late.”

Alfie stays silent, his thumb and forefinger fiddling with the overgrown scruff that decorated his jawline.

“Y/N’s under the illusion that you have a plan-“ Ada continues.

“Don’t dare come in ‘ere and fucking patronise me!” He erupted, slamming his fist on the desk. “I have a plan, right. It’s not a fucking illusion and it’s none of your fucking business either.”

“Then what the hell are you waiting for? Go to her. Beg for her forgiveness and when she takes you back- if she takes you back, get the hell out of here, both of you.”

“And tell me, sweetie, where does that leave your brother and his little starling problem?” Alfie eyes Ada curiously.

“He’s a Shelby. He’ll handle it.” She replied flatly.

Alfie graces her with an impish grin, the cockiness of her statement amusing him.

“Yeah, he’s done a brilliant job so far, ain’t he?” He muttered sarcastically.

“Just give Y/N the benefit of doubt, Alfie. After everything you’ve put her through, it’s the least you could do.” Ada waited for Alfie to reply but he stayed silent. His arms now folded stubbornly across his chest.

A defeated sigh left her ruby lips as she decided regretfully that her visit had been in vain.

“I’ve said all I’ve come here to say, I’ll be leaving now.” She grumbled, turning towards the door.

“Let me walk you out.” Ollie offered quickly, stumbling to her side.

“That won’t be necessary.” She declined. Blushing at their clashing of hands which have both reached for the door handle. A fleeting moment ensued between the two but Ada shook it off swiftly.

“I don’t need a man to open the door for me.” She sighed harshly.

“No, I remember that.” Ollie gave her a sad smile and withdrew his hand, leaving Ada to open it.

“Think about what I said.” She turned back to address Alfie who just grunted a dismissal.

“Where is she?” He asked suddenly.

“Arcadia.” Ada told him, her voice thick with hope.

Alfies eyes fell to the floor as he gave a subtle nod.

Resisting another glance at Ollie, Ada left wordlessly with her head held high.

Ollie loitered by the door debating wether or not to follow her. An abrupt bang shook the room, so loud it caused him to jump. He turned to Alfie whose pencil was now protruding from the photograph in the paper, piercing what would have been Charles’ face.

“I think Ada’s right, Alf.” Ollie approached his boss carefully.

“Yeah? And I think you’re just blinded by the peaky tart and that you’d think shit smelt like roses if she told you it did.”

Not wanting to get a wallop, Ollie gritted his teeth and said nothing.

“...So what if she is right, ay? Nothing changes. I can’t be who Y/N needs me to be.” Alfie confessed coyly.

“What you on about?”

“Being a dad. How could I be a fucking dad? I mean, who did I have as an example? My old man was a waste of space.” Alfie eyes his fathers hat hanging obnoxiously on the coat stand in the corner of the room. “Never ever saw the cunt.”

“Oh come on, Alfie. You ain’t your old man. You’d be a great dad. Look at what you’ve done for Goliath.”

“He’s a grown lad though in’t he. I didn’t raise him.”

“What about me then? You’ve pretty much raised me since the day my dad passed. And I turned out alright.”

A hundred and one sarcastic remarks crossed Alfie’s mind but he silenced them and instead agreed begrudgingly with a grunt.

“All you got to do is look at everything you’ve done for Y/N to realise that you’re nothing like your old man.”

“Yeah, waste of fucking time that all was.”

“Oh, Come on Alfie! If you really felt that way you wouldn’t have bothered whipping up a nurser-“ Alfie’s seething scowl stops Ollie abruptly.

“... I know it’s none of my business, boss.” Ollie gulped, continuing more cautiously. “But I don’t think Y/N would have come here and told you about the baby if there was any doubt in her mind that it wasn’t yours.”

Alfie jumped up from his desk causing Ollie to cower, fully expecting Alfie to chin him one for interfering in his personal business.

“There’s only one way to find out, in’t there. Get my coat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

For you, daytimes wasn’t the problem. Daytimes you could spend time with Ada or occupy yourself with the odd job at Arcadia. It was the nighttimes that haunted you. When the parties were over, the doors closed and you had to curl up beside Charles with another mans baby growing inside of you - a man who had shattered your heart a second time.

You had left the bakery that day numb, exactly like you had the last time he had broken your heart - ironically within the same four walls. It took all the strength you had to put on a brave face and lie to Ada afterwards, to tell her how overjoyed Alfie was about the news you were carrying his baby and that it wasn’t the train wreck it actually was. It just felt easier that way and it also gave Ada one less reason to hate him. It angered you that even after all the hurt Alfie had put you through, you still possessed that unabating need to defend and protect him. Which was the main reason you were still here and hadn’t fled London like your wounded heart had wanted to.

You had thought, or more so hoped, like you had done the first time he broke your heart, that Alfie would have come round by now but almost a fortnight later and still no word. It seemed you would have to somehow come to terms with the inevitable and try as best as you could to move on without him. Just the thought of that tore your sewn up heart back in two. You’d lay awake at night thinking about it, licking your wounds and drowning in a turbulent sea of misery as you tried to work out your next move. You wouldn’t be showing properly for a few more weeks, which should hopefully give you enough time to bring Tommys plan to fruition and help him put a stop to the Changrettas’ before it was too late. It’s what you would do next that had you stumped. One thing was sure, you would have to leave town. The thought of sticking around and raising Alfie’s child in London knowing he didn’t want to be a part of either of your lives was too gut wrenchingly painful to endure. So where would you go? You still had family you could turn to but your stupid pride would stop you from going back to your Aunts or turning up on your mother’s doorstep pregnant. What you needed was a fresh start. Birmingham was an option - a rather appealing one considering your connection to the peakies. You could be certain that Tommy would see you right and make sure you settled in. However, Tommy’s business relationship with Alfie could pose a problem. Another option, a more drastic one, was America. Ada would spend hours telling you about America and how much she adored it. She said she would be returning there soon, maybe you would go with her.

“That’s the last of the gin, Miss.” The glass bottles clinked a merrily enticing tune as the delivery man set the last crate on top of the other one at the bar, effectively stealing you from your reverie. He slid a docket under your nose for you to sign and with your signature and a tip of his flat cap he took his leave.

You had begun replenishing the bar with the gin when a sudden, eerie feeling crept over you. Shaking it off, you quickly dismissed it as fatigue and continued unpacking the crates...but the feeling lingered. Maybe it was the huge club that was bereft of the nightly pandemonium which caused your unease and emphasised the strange silence as it pressed in on you. You glanced around, the presence of the few workers dallying doing little to ease your imagination as it began to run wild: What if Sabini had found out who you were? Or even worse, what if Luca had done some digging and found out you had been spying on him and Charles? Either one could be lurking in the many shadows of the club waiting for the right moment to strike. It was an alarming possibility that caused a shiver to run down your spine.

Feeling paranoid and vulnerable, you were overcome with a staggering urge to get out of there as fast as you could. You left the bottles of gin on the bar top and made a hasty retreat from the grand hall to retrieve your coat and purse from the office. You moved briskly to the golden pillars which adorned the entrance of the large hall and masked the narrow stairway to your little office. No sooner had you breached the golden barrier were you pulled behind one of the pillars. Your mouth opened on a scream but closed when you came nose to nose with Alfie.

“Alfie, what are you doin-“

“-You’ve lied to me, ain’t ya? You haven’t fucked the Yank.” His grip tightened on your wrists.

“That’s none of your damned business!”

“Anything to do with you is my business.” He growled. “This is my business.”

He let go of one of your wrists to gently caress your stomach. You stilled at the unexpected gesture and melted against the column you were pressed up against. Enraptured completely by his touch that you hadn’t felt for days. Reminding yourself of the reason for his absence, you snapped out of his spell and batted his hand away forcefully.

“You’ve changed your tune!” You spat bitterly, pushing past him.

The sound of his footsteps and cane hitting the marble floor behind you told you that he was following you.

“Leave me alone, Solomon’s.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.” He grabs you again before you can ascend the stairs to the office.

“Tell you what?” You turn on him.

“Tell me the truth!” He hollers indiscreetly.

“You can’t handle the truth.” You whisper shout. Escaping once again, desperate to get away from him and the ear-wigging workers scattered around you. You make it to the sanctuary of your office, trying to shut the door on Alfie but he’s too close behind you. He pushes through, catching you as you lose your balance and stumble backwards.

“Tell me the baby’s mine.” He demands, glowering.

Your eyes travel across the menacing features of his face so close to yours.

“You really need me to tell you?” You smirk.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Of course it’s bloody yours!” You scream, pushing free from him.

“Why did you tell me otherwise then, pet?”

It may have been your imagination but he sounded relieved.

“Do you blame me after the way you reacted?”

“What did you expect? Dropping a bombshell like that? I was in shock.”

“I expected more from you, Alfie! I realise now how naive that was of me.”

“Now listen ‘ere-“

“- No you listen. Before you say another word I want you to know that I’m keeping the baby, and that you’re completely free from obligation. I’m assuming that’s why you’re here? Well, be assured, I don’t want or need anything from you, Alfie Solomon’s. Least of all your pity.”

“Pity?” He scoffs.

“It’s written all over your face. You’ve made your choice. I’ve come to terms with that now. I can do this on my own. We don’t need you.” You told him, trying your best to sound convincing.

“Right.” He gives you a half amused, tight lipped smile. “Well, after seeing that stomach-churning announcement of your engagement in the times, it appears that you have also made your choice. But I am curious, Virgin Mary, about how you’re going to explain all this to lover boy?”

“Mock me all you like, Solomons. But I have no intentions of staying with Charles. Although I have accepted his proposal - for yours and Tommy’s sake, may I add. On the contrary to what you believe, once this is all done and dusted I will not be marrying Charles. In fact I’ll be gone as soon as this is over.”

“And where exactly will you be going?” He asked. All amusement now gone from his gruff voice.

“I’m still working it out. But you haven’t got to worry about me or your bastard child cramping your style. We’ll be far away from here and far away from you.”

“You and my child ain’t goin’ anywhere. I’d track you down. Follow you to the ends of the fucking Earth if I had to.” His inflamed temper and seething threat shocked you silent. “I acted like a cunt the other day, I hold my hands up but I’ve since seen the error of my ways... Just give me another chance.”

“How can I give you another chance? How can I believe that this is what you really want after everything you said? I can’t do it. I can’t live in doubt like that. I’d rather not be with yo-“

“- don’t say it!” He interrupted suddenly. “I fucked up. I thought I’d be a shit dad. That I’d let you both down. But this is what I want. Let me prove it to you. Another chance, a shot at redemption is all I’m asking.”

“You’ve already let us down...I’m sorry, Alfie, I can’t-“

“-Don’t fucking say it!” He warned again. Grabbing you and pulling you to him. You stood rigidly in his arms. Your stinging eyes unable to meet his.

“I can’t-“ you try again but he cuts off the rest of your sentence with a rough kiss.

You pull away, slapping his face hard before colliding back into him and kissing him as if it was the last time.

The sound of the door handle rattled and you tore yourself from Alfie instantaneously. Less than a second later Charles burst through the office door.

“Dar-ling.” seeing that you wasn’t alone, Charles drawled a protracted greeting upon his entrance.

“Hello, my love.” You smiled. Quickly going to him and hoping that your flushed cheeks and heaving chest didn’t arouse his suspicions anymore than they possibly already were.

“Mr Solomon’s. What are you doing here?” He looked past you to address Alfie.

“We were running low on rum so I called Mr Solomon’s, who went out of his way to personally deliver us some. Wasn’t that kind of him, sweetheart?” You quickly answered on Alfie’s behalf.

“Yes.” Charles mumbled “too kind.”

You risk a glance at Alfie. His jaw was tense. His penetrating gaze falling from Charles to you.

“Well I should be on me way now then. As always it’s been a pleasure, Y/N.” He grins, striding towards the door and ignoring Charles completely. “Think about what I said.” He tells you before disappearing, purposely leaving you and Charles with an elephant in the room.

“And what exactly is it you have to think about, my dear?” Charles asks tightly.

“Extra protection on the doors.” You lie, swiftly coming up with a cover up. “He thought it would help deter the riff raff.”

“I see.” He utters mindlessly. Catching you off guard when his fingers caught your chin and lifted your reddened face up to his. You tried not to fold under the scrutiny of his leering gaze.

“You have that rash again.” He sounded accusatory. His thumb and forefinger tracing roughly around your mouth and jawline where your skin had been chaffed a pale pink by Alfie’s coarse beard.

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears.

“Do I? I haven’t been well lately, have I? It must be to do with that.” You shrugged free from Charles and leant across the desk to retrieve your coat and purse.

“Take me home, my love. I’m famished.” You looped your arm through his to encourage him towards the door but he didn’t budge.

“Tell me, how do you know Mr Solomon’s again?”

Your settling heartbeat once again started to race.

“He was the landlord of my uncles shop. I used to work there and he’d pop in now and again to collect the rent. Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering. I remember you telling me he was an old friend. However, I just can’t help but think that it’s a bit of an unusual alliance.”

“I’d hardly call it an alliance. Maybe friend was too familiar of a term. He’s more of an acquaintance.”

“I see. Well, acquaintance or not, I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you doing business with Mr. Solomon’s anymore. In future, any dealings with him will go through me.”

“I’m fully capable-“

“It’s not about capability!” He erupts, startling you.

“It’s about him.” He carries on more evenly, regaining his composure. “I simply don’t trust him. Any business with the Jew now goes through me. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded compliantly, hoping he’d drop the matter.

“Good. Now let’s get you fed and watered.”

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#PeakyBlinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine

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torialeysha · 5 years

Text

Thank you @alitheamateur for this blessing 😍 I must also express my gratitude to you for the wonderful image of Tommy Conlon in a pink, ruffly, bunny printed apron which is now imprinted in my mind 😂💕

Rumor

A Tommy Conlon One-Shot

Tommy Conlon and Y/N have been attached at the hip since the beginning. Best friends for life, you’d say. Every other member of your lifelong groups of friends saw right through the way you two tended to, and doted on the other, and the rest of the town whispered about the closeness of your so-called “friendship.” They were all crazy with the buzzing gossip, or were they?

Warnings: Language. Fluffity-fluff.

Tommy ushered you through the slightly battered, creaky door of your favorite slimy, local tavern. Once weekly, your impenetrable circle of friends would gather for drinks, no matter how unmanageable your adult schedules may become. The 7 of you had been attached at the hip since high school, vowing to always have time for one another, and never let the woes of work, family or life interrupt.

This week’s decided night was Friday, much to your satisfaction. They all loved giving you the most grief over acting as the so-called ‘mom’ of the group. Always being the cautious one, the responsible one, and the one who painfully hated staying out past 9 on a weeknight. Truthfully, you’d stay home if it wasn’t for Tommy. You loved your friends, the family-knit bond of your group one you held in the deepest of regards. But, sometimes the quiet of your apartment, and a bottle of wine tickled your fancy more than the poignant booming of a crowded bar.

Keep reading

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torialeysha · 5 years

Text

Something beginning with M - Part 2

Read Part 1 here

Warnings: NSFW swearing/fluff/smut (AKA - The what more could you want combo 😉)

Song: Notion - Tash Sultana

“Yahalom?” You heard Alfies gruff voice call you softly. “We’re back now.”

Rising groggily from the cushion of Alfie’s chest, you rub at your tight eyes which strained against the darkness outside the cars windows. You can just about make out a silhouette of the row of houses in which yours was wedged between. There was no sign of life coming from the succession of little homes. The only welcome was the light emanating from the army of street lamps that casted a warm orange glow upon the dingy brick and glass facades.

“What time is it?” You asked croakily.

“It’s almost 11.”

Due to the hour and the fact your house was in darkness you had assumed your Mother was asleep and for that you were grateful. At least it would save you an inevitable scolding...until the morning anyway.

Daniel opened your car door and you clambered out on sleepy limbs with Alfie following you. You turn to him.

“Thank you for today. It’s been wonderful.”

“You’re welcome, Pet.” He sighed heavily. Taking a purposeful pause before committing to the moment you had both been dreading.

“Well, You better get in before your ol’ mum comes out and gives us both a rollicking.” You gaze at the floor, laughing weakly.

With a ringed finger Alfie lifts your chin to look at him then without warning and a with a blatant disregard of Daniels presence, he leans down to press his lips to yours. It was a sensual union of your mouths. Soft, passionate and perfect. Far from the chaste peck on the cheek you were expecting.

“Until tomorrow, Yahalom.” He finally breaks away and let’s you go.

“Tomorrow.” You repeat, still in a slight daze from his kiss.

You bid the two men adieu and stumble giddily towards the front door.

Before entering you glance back at Alfie who along with a blushing Daniel is waiting by the car to make sure you get in safe. The light from the street lamp glistens off Alfies lashes as he winks at you and you fight the sudden urge to shout “I love you” at him.

Quickly and soundlessly, you disappear behind the door before you can do so.

In a euphoric state you slouch against the front door, allowing the chill of the glossed wood to cool your heated skin. Your fingers touch your lips that still tingled with the moistness of Alfies and with a contented sigh you make your way to climb the creaky wooden stairs with a practised caution.

“And where have you been?” Your mothers direct tone coming from the darkness startled you. Squinting up at the top of the wooden mountain her scowling figure appears from the shadows.

“I’ve been out. It was a beautiful day, I was making the most of it. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You pronounce nonchalantly.

“Wake me? I ain’t managed to get a wink of sleep thanks to you. I’ve had your uncle on the phone. He said you’ve been out gallivanting with that Alfie Solomon’s again.” The contempt in which your mother spoke Alfie’s name warned you where this conversation was going.

“And?”

“And?” She repeats angrily “What do you think you’re playing at Y/N? The man’s a bloody criminal. Your Father, God rest his soul, would turn in his grave if he knew you were associating with such villainous filth.” She spits furiously.

“You don’t know him!” You fire back, furious that she had the audacity to bring your Father in to this.

“And you do?” She scoffs. “Listen to me girl. Men like that are no good. He’ll ruin you. Use you for one thing and then hang you out to dry like the rest of ‘em. Or maybe he already has. Strolling in here at this hour? How could you be so stupid Y/N! I thought I raised you better than that. I forbid you from seeing him again.” You can just about make out her snarling features in the darkness.

“You can’t do that...I love him.” You admit to your disapproving mother.

“Love.” She smirks. “I’ve heard it all now.”

Your eyes fill with an angry swell of hot tears. There was no point trying to explain your feelings for Alfie to your mother, she would never understand. Turning your back on her and her slanted prejudice against Alfie. You make your way back down the stairs.

“Don’t you walk away from me, young lady.” You hear the rubber soles of her slippers slapping righteously against the wooden steps as she descends the stairs behind you.

“Leave it, Mother. You obviously don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand better than you by the sounds of it. Selfish delinquents like Alfie Solomon’s are not capable of such things as love, Y/N. And I ain’t going to stand by and let that man prey on an innocent girl like my daughter.” She grabs your shoulder turning you to face her. You shrug from her grasp as if it burned.

“He is capable...” You try your best to whisper. Aware of the paper thin walls of the attached houses and their sleeping occupants. “He’s shown me more love in the past few months than you have in years. And I don’t care what you say. I’m not going to stop seeing him. He makes me happy.”

“Oh I’ve heard it all now. And please tell me how a cad like Alfie Solomon’s makes you happy?” She asks through an incredulous cackle.

“He takes me away from my miserable life with you.” You spat venomously, all consideration for your sleeping neighbours disappearing.

Her hand strikes your face forcefully. You gasp in disbelief, your hand darting to cover your stinging cheek. Your Mothers wide eyes told you she was just as shocked at her actions as you were.

“Y/N-I-“ She stutters skittishly but you dash passed her to the door before she can string together a proper sentence. Flinging the wood panel wide, you make down the street. Your Mothers calls echoing after you.

In a stupor you ran as fast as your tired limbs could carry you. Your heart pounded as fast as your feet on the uneven pavement. The dark, smoggy streets of Camden seemed never ending and you knew it wasn’t safe for you to be out on your own so late at night. picking up your pace, you made it passed the countless dark alleys and side roads until you reached the familiar parade of townhouses. Unlike you’re own street, this row of houses were double in size and housed the more well-off side of town. You came to a stop outside the house with a front garden filled with a muddy bed of forget me nots that lined a path leading up to a glossy black door - Alfies door. Holding on to the cool, wrought iron railings that separated his garden from the street. You eyed his abode carefully. To your relief a sliver of light peaked through the ineptly drawn curtains of the living room window and told you that Daniel had dropped him home.

Rubbing roughly at your tear soaked face, you tried your best to pull yourself together. Thankfully the temperature had dropped from the sweltering conditions earlier and a welcomed nippy breeze cooled the hot dampness of your sweaty skin. You walked the beautiful blue lined pathway slowly, taking a couple of deep breaths to regain control of your ragged breathing.

Your hand hesitated around the heavy brass of the door knocker.

Had you done the right thing coming here? Was you being too forward?

You looked down at the eerie loneliness of the narrowing shadowed street and Knocked gently.

The muffled bark of Alfies dog Cyril vibrated through the door in warning, followed by Alfies grumbling voice.

“It’s alright boy. Come, let’s see who’s got the bollocks to be knocking on my door this time of night.” Your heart was pounding in your ears as the door opened a crack, revealing half of Alfie and the nosey sniffing snout of Cyril.

“Y/N?” Alfie inquired dumbstruck.

You attempted a smile but it didn’t reach your watery eyes.

Without delay he releases the door, holding back an excited Cyril while you stepped inside. The Mastiff wiggled free from Alfies grasp and bounded over to you. You giggled as he sniffed and licked at your hand, begging for attention. Your hand moved across his short soft fur, scratching behind his ears just where he likes it.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough, Cyril. Buggar off to bed.” Alfie commands his furry companion as he’s about to collapse euphorically at your feet.

You turn to Alfie, noticing a gun in his hand.

“For protection.” He explains sheepishly, placing it on the sideboard next to the door. You nod as if you were well acquainted with the ways of his world.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude-“ You begin to apologise but he cuts you off.

“-Don’t fucking apologise, right. You are always welcome here. But don’t be out walking the streets this time of night again. It’s not safe, is it? Especially for a beauty like you.” You blush at his compliment. “You hear me?” He scorns.

You give him a contrite nod.

“Good. Now tell me what’s happened? Your mum upset ya?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You grumble.

“Hmm.” He grunts. Eyeing you with concern. His stormy orbs landing on your reddened cheek. You turn to block his view but he grabs your face, pulling it back so he can examine the pink blemish that stains your skin. The slight touch of his fingertips sends your pulse racing.

“She fucking do this?” His voice was tight, his eyes wide and alight with a frightful fury.

“This was my fucking fault getting you back so late.” He carries on bitterly and you’re unsure wether his rage is directed at himself or your Mother.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was mine! I insisted on staying to watch the sunset. I deserved it, Alfie. I said some really spiteful things...” You shake your head regretfully, holding back a fresh batch of tears.

“Ay, Come ‘ere.” He holds out his arms and you fall into them willingly. Closing your eyes you enjoy the comfort of Alfies embrace.

“I was wondering...if I could stay here tonight!” You ask falteringly.

Alfie stiffens, pulling back to study you with a tapered gaze.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Yahalom. Let me and Cyril walk you home, ay?”

You’d be lying if you said his dismissal didn’t wound you.

“I don’t want to go back there. Not tonight.” Your voice was bleak and on the edge of desperation. You were sure that a night away wouldn’t change much but it would at least allow you and your Mother some time to cool off.

He deliberates a moment before succumbing to the desperation in your Doe eyes.

“You’ve fucking got me wrapped around your little finger in’t ya?...” He sighs. “Alright then. Follow me.”

Along with a loyal Cyril, you follow Alfie up the stairs and into the room at the end of the hallway. Alfie flicks a switch and the room lights up.

It was a simple space, predominately cream with royal blue tapestries. The single, Victorian bed caught your eye. Its small, flimsy brass frame telling you it didn’t belong to Alfie.

“This isn’t your room?” You ask.

“No, but my rooms down the hall there.”

“Oh...” the disappointment was evident in your soft voice.

“I’ll leave Cyril in ‘ere with you for the night.” He looks down at Cyril who has already settled on the rug at the foot of the bed. “You’ll look after ‘er won’t ya, boy?”

Not that you at all doubted the capabilities of the sandy giant but you would much rather be tucked up in Alfies arms instead.

“There’s a bathroom across the way if you wanna get washed up and I’ll grab one of my shirts for you to sleep-“

“-I want to sleep with you.” You blurt out, interrupting him.

“...I mean, I want to sleep in your bed with you not on my own.” You explain, blushing furiously.

“No way!-“ He starts strongly but the hurt look on your face stops him from finishing that sentence. “Don’t look at me like that, Pet. You know what I mean. I can barely control myself when I’m with you in a room full of people. How am I gonna behave when we’re alone in the same bed? I’m sorry, yeah, but I’m just trying to do the right thing ‘ere.”

“What if I don’t want you to behave? What if I don’t want you to the right thing?” Your voice was merely a breathy whisper.

He scrubs at his face frustratedly.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know what I want, Alfie.” A boldness had possessed you, spurred on by the uncontrollable fiery lust that had been festering all day.

Alfies eyes growing wide and distant, strayed from yours. His brow furrowing diligently as he debated with himself the best way to handle this situation.

“What I’m trying to say is, Pet, I don’t trust myself. And I don’t want us to end up doing something you might regret in the morning. Don’t you want to wait until marriage to share a bed and what ‘av ya?”

Marriage? You bite back the urge to scoff. After overhearing Alfies tirade of rules and beliefs to his army of new factory workers the other day, he had made it very clear that the conjugation of Gentiles and Jews was prohibited. So you were pretty sure that thanks to your conflicting religions, marriage wasn’t on the cards for you. However, his condemnation bothered you. If he felt that strongly about it then why was he wasting his time with you in the first place? It was a puzzling, arduous revelation that had been nagging at you for days and you knew you’d have to address it sooner rather than later.

“You’ve gone quiet on me. What ‘av I said now?”

“It’s not what you’ve said...or actually it was.. Oh, I don’t know.” Your head spun. Your coveted feelings for Alfie made logical thinking almost impossible. Disoriented, your heart battled with your brain like it had the past week wether to bring it up or not.

“Spit it out for fuck sake.”

You sigh defeatedly and carefully approached the subject.

“The other day at the bakery, I overheard you speaking to your new workers... and you mentioned about Jewish women being off limits... and it got me thinking... Does it matter to you then that I’m not Jewish? Because I need to kn-“

“-That’s what you’re worried about?..” He starts incredulously.

You nod, unable to look at him.

“...Not that I’m ‘supposedly’ a murderous criminal? Or the fact that your mother fucking hates me and wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire?...So that’s the reason you were all quiet the other day?”

You stay silent.

“Fuckin ell.” He shakes his head before continuing. “Alright, fair enough.” He holds his hands up in agreement. “it’s not an ideal situation, granted. But nothing ever is, is it, Yahalom?” He sighs with a sympathetic shrug before continuing. “I guess what it comes down to at the end of the day, right... Is you just can’t help who you fall in love with.”

Your eyes dart from the floor to his. In the dim light of the room it’s hard to tell but you’re sure he was blushing.

“What did you say?”

“I love you.” The deep timbre of his casual admission reverberated through you like a bolt of lightning, so hot and fast you couldn’t grasp it.

“You love me?” The last of your sentence is lost as your breathing falters.

He nods, eyeing you cautiously. You could do nothing except stand there stunned.

“Ya see, I knew from the very first time I saw you, right, that I was completely and utterly... fucked.” You frowned at him. That wasn’t the word you were expecting. “You had me hook, line and sinker, yeah, and there was nothing I could fucking do about it.” He carried on, stepping closer to you. Picking up your hand he places it on his chest where his heart is. You feel the muscle beneath the material, flesh and bone, pounding a rapid rhythm. The air was thick, crackling around you both.

“I know what people say about me and unfortunately, Pet, most of it is true, yeah. But whatever good is left of this ol’ heart ‘ere is yours.”

“Oh, Alfie! I love you too.” You revel in his proclamation. He stills. The pounding of his heart increasing against your palm.

“Say That again.” He asks, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallow hard before complying.

“I love you.”

“Again.” He commands with a grunt and you can see the dark glimmer of unworthiness in his stormy orbs.

“I. Love. You.” You pour your heart into every syllable to erase the redundant doubt that’s plaguing him.

Closing the gap, you align your body against his. Your hand that was at his chest has snaked around his neck, your fingers toying with the messy tufts of sweaty hair at the nape of his neck.

Nose to nose, your laboured breathing mingles. His hands grasp your back, stroking and needing your curves restlessly. His little grunts betraying his restraint as his body goes rigid against yours.

“Take me, Alfie. I’m yours.” You tell him.

“Y/N.” He speaks your name as a warning, a poor last attempt at fighting a losing battle. Pushing up on your tippy toes you graze your lips against his. Unmoving, he allows the chaste contact.

“I won’t regret anything..” You continue through pecks. “The only thing I do regret is not meeting you sooner.” His furrowed gaze studies you, catching the certainty of love and desire in your glossy eyes.

“Oh, fuck it.” He pulls you tightly to him. The last of his hesitance retreating as you become a frenzied mess of clashing lips and roaming hands.

He pulls away abruptly leaving you needy and breathless. You hold back a disappointed groan as you ready yourself for his excuse to stop.

“Not here...” He pants against your lips. “...I want you in my bed.”

You gasp in surprise as he hauls you up against the length of his body. You wrap your limbs around his torso. His blatant arousal stiff and thick wedged between your bodies. He carries you with ease from the spare bedroom and down the corridor, Cyril still in tow. You bury your head in his neck, inhaling the musky masculinity of his unique scent that fills you with an overwhelming urge to taste him. You place your lips to his neck, your tongue darting out to sample the saltiness of his clammy skin. Then remembering your promise from earlier you sink your teeth into him. A grunt erupts from his full lips.

“If you don’t stop that we ain’t making it to my room.” He grumbles hotly. Your blood heats and you grin impishly into his neck before kissing softly where you had just bitten.

A couple more strides and you make it to his bedroom. Alfie boots the door and it swings open with a creaky groan. One of his hands leaves you to blindly switch on the light. He sets you down at the foot of the bed. Leaving you stood there while he closes the curtains. Your eyes travel around the freshly illuminated room in amazement. This was no doubt Alfies bedroom. It was at least three times the size of the spare room. The perfect expanse for his larger than life character.

A rich, dark mahogany dominated the room, from the lavish furnishings to the waxed floorboards. The only colour that graced his chamber was an olive green that covered the walls and accentuated the decorative rug that you were currently stood on. A white mantle piece housed a torpid fireplace which faced you and the large four poster bed you were stood against.

It struck you how the room held no sign of life.

No photographs or paintings embellished the surfaces of the mantle or the walls. It was an impersonal space, void of any framed memories, illustrated landscapes or portraits. For a room so full it felt incredibly empty.

“Three’s a crowd, mate. Out you go.” Alfie ushers out a bewildered Cyril before closing the door and returning to stand in front of you. His fervent gaze assesses you hungrily. The rise and fall of your chest increasing as anticipation coursed through your veins. He places both hands on your hips and even through the material of your dress his touch is electrifying.

“I’m taking this off.” He tells you gruffly. He gathers the material of your dress in his dexterous hands. You lift your arms as the last of the hem rises into his deft fingers and in one swift movement it’s off over your head, leaving you in your undergarment - the most naked you had ever been in front of a man.

His fingers slip the straps of your cami-bloomers over your shoulders and the all in one falls to your feet leaving you completely naked. You tense, fighting the urge to cover your modesty. His fingers trail down to trace your hardening nipples and your breath catches. A gentle whimper leaves your mouth as his thumbs circle the sensitive hard peaks a couple of times before sliding down to rest underneath the curve of your breasts. His hands grip your ribs and in one swift movement you’re tossed backwards onto the mattress, landing with a gasping bounce.

Giggling you look up at him. His dark gaze, harsh with desire stopping you mid chuckle.

Slowly and deliberately he begins unbuttoning his shirt, all the while his very serious, wild eyes never leaving yours.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire. His admiring, animalistic glare empowering your nakedness.

You make yourself as comfortable as possible, propping yourself up on your elbows to enjoy the show. Completely riveted, you watch as he bares the alabaster skin of his arms and torso along with the contrasting array of black inkings that adorn them. Your fingers restlessly clutch the bedding beneath you in hot anticipation. Once the shirt had been dealt with, he bends to tug off the cami-bloomers that are still bound around your ankles. They fall to the floor along with your shoes.

“That’s better.” He grumbles hotly. Mimicking your earlier words from the beach.

Forgetting about the removal of his trousers he crawls over you, settling between your legs.

“If we’re going to do this, yeah, I’m going to need you to tell me what you want.”

You gulp nervously, how were you supposed to tell him what you wanted when you hadn’t done anything like this before? He waits patiently for you to give him instructions.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you?” His voice is low and quiet.

“I want you to touch me.” You can barely speak.

“Where?” He asks.

“All over.” You blush. Thrashing impatiently beneath him.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, my love.” You want to curse at him. You grab his hand and place it on your chest. He bares an impish grin and starts to massage your breasts. You arch into his touch.

“What about down ‘ere?” The sharp coolness of his gold bracelets scrape across your fevered skin as his hand travels down your abdomen.

Your eyes follow the burning trail left by his touch. The little crown tattoo on his hand was all that was visible as his thumb and fingers disappeared and began stroking you between your legs. Your head fell back at the the erotic vision and the feeling of his skin on yours teasing the silky folds.

“Fuckin ‘ell.” He growls. “You’re very wet, Yahalom. Tell me have you ever done this to yourself?”

Your hips begin to gyrate shamelessly against his working hand and a measley shake of your head against the mattress was all you could muster.

“Have you done this with anyone else?” He inquires darkly against the skin of your chest. You’re too spellbound by the pressure of his thumb as it swirls and intensifies on your sensitive flesh that you can’t answer.

“Answer me.” He commands. You gasp as he leans down and takes your nipple between his teeth.

“No-Only you.” You pant quickly. Arching your back as he tries to quell the smarting of his bite with a soothing lick.

“Good.” He grunts. Coming to rest over you, he leans all of his weight on to one arm. Your hands grip the other that’s rooted between your thighs. Your nails digging into the tensing muscles of his tricep and forearm as the rough pad of his thumb continues it’s lush rhythm against your clit.

Your lips were parted to accommodate your heavy breathing and you struggled to keep your eyes open as the pleasure took over your body.

“Tell me how it feels?”

“It feels... good.” You hold back a quivering moan to answer him.

“Just good?” His fingers slide down to tease your entrance.

“Really good.” You pant dryly.

“You sure? You’re not making much noise.”

You were purposely trying not to. Like your own home Alfies had houses either side.

“Your-ne-eighbours.” You stammer a vague explanation for your considerate discretion.

“Oh, fuck them!” He shouts. “Stop holding back, Yahalom. For months I’ve dreamt about making you moan. Now let me fucking hear you.” His authoritative tone made you tingle and you couldn’t help but groan loudly as his finger slid inside you.

“That’s it.” He encouraged gruffly. His experienced fingers enticing a pleasure so intense it caused you to quake. Restlessly you writhed against the bed, unable to take the sensation that was building deep within you.

“Kiss me, Alfie.” You pleaded.

Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling his lips down to yours, emptying the moans and groans which now emanated freely and helplessly from your mouth into his.

Every muscle in your body tensed and stiffened as Alfies lips and fingers worked in perfect unison.

“Alfie...” You called his name helplessly.

“It’s okay, Yahalom. Just let go.” And with one last stroke of his talented fingers you did just that. A hoarse cry left you as an explosive sensation rippled and rolled through your body, violently shattering you like glass.

After coaxing the last tremors of your orgasm with his talented fingers, he retreated his hand from your spent form and you watched panting and wide eyed as he placed one of the fingers he was pleasuring you with into his mouth, tasting you as if you were a fresh batch of rum. You flushed as he groaned in delectable appreciation of your flavour.

“Is that what you wanted, Yahalom?”

“I want more?”

“More?” He raised an eyebrow at your greedy admission.

“I want to touch you.” You raise yourself up on heavy, sated limbs. Gathering just enough strength to push Alfie down on to the bed next to you.

“I want to make you feel good.” Your curious hands begin explore his naked torso. Your gentle touch advancing downwards to the waistband of his trousers. Your fingertips stalling at the material barrier for approval.

“Carry on.” He prompted coarsely.

Eagerly and clumsily you fumbled with the button and zip of his trousers until you could pry them from his hips, wrestling them down his body until his cock sprung free and rested thick and hard against his stomach. Alfie kicked his legs, ridding himself completely from the starchy material.

He groaned vehemently when without warning you took him in your palm, your hand flexing timidly around the velvety softness of his shaft. Inexperienced and unconfident, you look to him for a sign that you were doing it right.

“Like this, Pet.” His hand wrapped around yours, guiding it up and down his length a couple of times before leaving you to it.

“Yeah, that’s it. Just like that.” He moaned as you continued to pump him. You watched enthralled as you pleasured him. His eyes hot and heavy with desire. The primitive sounds erupting from his mouth spurring you on, making you feel powerful.

“See, Yahalom. There’s plenty of ways we can still enjoy each other without going all the way.” He groans. His hips tensing upwards into your working hand.

“I still want you, Alfie.” He couldn’t avert you that easily. He had unleashed something inside you. A wanton desire that wouldn’t be satisfied until he had possessed you completely.

“You have me.” He tells you.

“You know what I mean...” you tighten your grip around him causing him to hiss. “I want you inside of me.” You were too enamoured, too consumed in the moment to be embarrassed by your boldness.

His hips stilled as he looked upon you dubiously. His lips parted on a reluctant objection. He could beat grown, begging men to a pulp without a sliver of guilt and not think twice about it. But when it came to you, you were his weakness. He couldn’t refuse you no matter what it was, nor could he deny his own selfish desire to be buried deep inside you.

“Fuck,” He drifts away for a moment, a familiar look of anguish taking over his features.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He grunts. Forcefully pulling you on top so you’re now straddling him.

You look down at him, once again at a loss of what to do.

“Wouldn’t you be better on top?” You question bashfully.

“I don’t want to get carried away. This way we can go at your pace, right. If it’s too much for you then you can stop, okay?”

You nod. Anxiously rising to kneel above his hips as he positions the tip of his cock at the entrance of your sex.

With both of your hands resting on his heaving chest to steady yourself, you lower yourself on to him.

Your movements feeling awkward and slow as your body stretched to accommodate Alfies size. You cried out, a tortured sound of pleasure and pain as you took him to the hilt before stilling, your body trying to acclimatise to the foreign fullness.

The gasping, raspy encouragements of Alfie drifted through your ears as you rose gingerly to take him again. You repeated the movements a few more times before the stinging discomfort began to ease and all you could focus on was the pleasure and intense connection of Alfie inside you.

Your chest shuddered as you gained speed. Rocking your hips against Alfies like your life depended on it, your breasts bouncing buoyantly as you did so.

“You’re fucking breathtaking.” He tells you. Sitting up to take one of your nipples in to his mouth. You moan as he grips your shoulders pulling you down firmly onto him. His ardent mouth leaving a sporadic trail of bites and kisses up your chest and neck before claiming your mouth roughly. You bury your hands in his hair as his hips jolt up into you. The feel of his sweaty body against yours and his incoherent murmurings of appreciation and ragged grunts only heightened the intense building of another orgasm.

“Alfie, get on top please.” You beg, needing him to take control.

He shifts, flipping you on to your back. Levelling over you until you’re pinned beneath his weight. With a wet kiss he rammed in to you, the exquisite fullness causing you to cry out again as he filled you completely.

“You alright?” His panicked blue gaze searches your face.

“I’m fine.” You assure him. “Don’t stop.”

You angle your hips up to his for him to continue and he obliges. His rhythm becoming more erratic as he pounds mercilessly into you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He curses with each thrust as you tense and clench around him. His name escapes you in a garbled plea as the euphoria of another sensory explosion consumes and leaves you a convulsing mess beneath him. He rears back, plunging his hips into yours one more time before quickly pulling out. Through a string of grunts, he empties his hot spurting release on to your stomach.

You’re just coming back down to Earth when you feel Alfies weight leave you and the bed. Distantly you register the sound of his heavy footsteps padding across the mahogany floorboards and the creaking of the door as he leaves the room. You stretch your exhausted limbs, wincing at the soreness between your legs.

Alfie re-enters the room and you can’t help but gawk at the glorious nakedness of his body.

The mattress dips as he joins you on the bed and you notice a wash cloth in his hand. Silently he tends to you.

You grimace as he gently glides the damp cloth between your legs and across the sticky residue on your stomach.

“I got a bit carried away. I didn’t hurt you did I?” Alfies fretful expression disappears as you grin up at him.

“Truth be told, I’d like you to get carried away with me again.” You notice the contrasting claret staining the white washcloth as he discards it to the floor.

“As relieved as I am to hear that, Yahalom. I think that’s enough for tonight.”

He extends his arm and gestures for you to lay on his chest. Your weary frame settles into him.

Securing his arm around your shoulder, he pulls you closer.

“But remember what I told you earlier? This is just the beginning. We’ve got forever to get carried away, you and me.”

“Forever.” You repeat sleepily, liking the way it sounded. Cosying into his chest you fell asleep with blissful thoughts of forever with Alfie Solomons.

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