#Solomon can eat his own fucking shins

[pikachic]

Unbury your gays fr

[rainiishowers]

Obey Me Incorrect Quotes

———

MC, gesturing to Simeon: I think my guardian angel drinks.

——

Satan: "Ignorance more frequently begets confidence than does knowledge" - Charles Darwin

Mammon: What the fuck? Begets isn't a word. Quit trying to make up words, fuckface.

——

Belphegor: Watcha doin?

Satan: Stealing my neighbour’s cat.

Belphegor: Scandalous.

Belphegor: Can I help?

——

Asmodeus: What’s the dumbest thing you believed as a child?

Belphegor: That naptime was a punishment.

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Mammon: Uh, I think I got your lunch. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘I am very proud of you. Love, Lucifer’*

MC: Oh yeah. I didn’t think this was for me. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘Be good. For the love of Diavolo, Please be good.’*

——

Simeon: Barbatos and I got married!!

Belphegor: Don't share your personal problems with everyone.

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Beelzebub: I think I did fairly well on my anatomy quiz! :)

Belphegor: I forgot I was doing a test.

Lucifer: Belphie.

Belphegor: I said the vertebrae was the back stick because I thought it was funny

Lucifer: Belphegor.

——

Lucifer: I hope you have an explanation for this.

Satan: We have three actually-

Belphegor: Pick your favorite.

——

Asmodeus: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up!

Luke:

Luke: *proceeds to kick him in the shin and run away*

Asmodeus: Wha- Oww! How dare you!

Mammon, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Fido cute or small.

——

Solomon: I dare you-

Lucifer, exasperated: MC is not allowed to accept dares anymore.

Solomon: Why not?

MC: "I have no regard for my own safety", as some would say.

——

MC: Belphie annoyed me today so I told him that I can’t wait to see what he has planned for our special day tomorrow.

Beelzebub: There is nothing special about tomorrow...

MC: But there is something special about watching the color leave his face as panic takes over.

——

Beelzebub: I lost Asmo..

Lucifer: How do you LOSE Asmo?

Mammon: To be fair, he is small-

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Solomon: So... who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon?

MC: We're chopsticks!

Simeon: Well... that's cute!

Solomon: Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly?

Belphegor, protectively curling around MC: No, it means that if you take the other away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.

——

Satan: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY-

MC: Awwww, you’re so adorable! Give me a hug~

Satan: Wh-What? nO, yOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH-

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Mammon: You know the sound a fork makes in the garbage disposal? That's the sound that my brain makes all the time.

——

Mammon: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Leviathan: Where did you get that?

Mammon: My pocket.

Leviathan: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Mammon: Skills.

——

Lucifer: I hope he’s calmed down...

Satan: Shut the fuck up you annoying ass pig.

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Belphegor: I hate when people ask me, 'What did you do today?' Buddy listen, I woke up at noon and then it was five p.m., okay? I don't KNOW!

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Asmodeus: My gender is in a constant state of flux.

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Leviathan: I came out here to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now.

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MC: So I have made the decision to trust you.

Leviathan: A horrible decision, really.

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Barbatos: *Coughs* Ah.. What kind of tea is this?

Solomon: I boiled Gatorade :D

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Lucifer, possibly drunk: I have no respect for Santa. Don’t sneak in through the chimney and undermine my authority by bringing my family presents. Walk in through the front door and fight me like a man.

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Luke: Everything’s fine, Barbatos, it’s just a rat-

Barbatos: Luke, I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- *deep inhale* ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

——

MC: Why does everyone in this house want to kill Sol?

Satan: Because, goddamnit, have you seen him? His neck looks so snappable.

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Leviathan, to Mammon: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

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Lucifer: Enough! How dare you mock me in such a manner!?

MC: Well. How would you like me to mock you? I take requests.

——

Leviathan: Pros and cons of dating me.

Leviathan: Pros. You'll be the cute one.

Leviathan: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

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Satan: I couldn't do this without you, Asmo.

Asmodeus: Sure you could. Not as stylishly, of course.

——

Lucifer: Mammon, can I speak to you for a minute? In private.

Mammon: Ooh, someone's in trouble.

Mammon: It's me. I don't know why I did that.

- -

-

Bonus!!

Lucifer: you'll be working with Beel and Belphie

Rainy: Alright! My fantasy threesome!

Everyone else: *blank stares*

Rainy: ...Of people on a team.

[blinder-secrets]

Lion Tamer - part 10

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine 

4,211 words

warnings: nsfw, language, canon violence + blood

ao3 link

If Arthur was anyone else, anyone else in the bloody world, he’d have thought he was dead. But he wasn’t, he knew that, because men like him didn’t go to heaven, and women like her would never be in hell. Cause there she was, lying at his side, all golden, like the sun shone out of her fucking chest, as close to an angel as he’d ever be, and so he mustn’t have died yet. He was alive, more than ever, while she was next to him. He’d done some good then, somewhere along the way. Something had led him to this waking paradise. Banked his deeds in exchange for the wealth.

‘Mornin, love,’ he drawled, stretching up to push life back into his limbs. He moved like an old man now, sometimes, just in the mornings. Cracked like splintered doorframes.

She peeled her eyes open to look at him, smiling once they’d focused. He’d never touch whiskey again, he thought, not while he had that in front of him. She put more fire in his heart with half the effort, none of the cost. ‘It’s the afternoon,’ she whispered, ‘we slept all morning.’

And thank fuck we did. His fingers went to her hair without planning to. ‘Good,’ he said. Bloody good, enough mornings, enough work. Time didn’t exist in that room, not to them. They needed the laziness, deserved the peace, they’d spent years waiting for it. ‘Bout time we had some fuckin’ rest.’

He swore too much. Maybe that’s what she thought, why she was staring. He tried not to fidget under her gaze because, well, really, deep down, he knew she’d never think anything malicious, he hoped, not about him. He was just worrying ideas into her head, yeah, putting reason to the gaze that she slung across his shoulders, his chest. She still was shining and it wasn’t just the window behind her, wasn’t the cream silk of her slip. The one that had melted through his fingers like ice, like water, brushed his nose when he went down her body. If he tried hard enough, he could find the taste of her on his tongue still.

Say something, then, Arthur, fill the quiet. ‘Feels like heaven,’ he confessed, thinking of her, thinking of the night before, thinking of everything at fucking once.

Then they’d talked, and talked, and she’d put their schedule together. Decided what they should do, which was good because he hadn’t considered it at all. Had thought they would just stay in bed, go somewhere to eat, then be back in the hotel again. Making a home in the over-priced room he’d booked. Then he could finally have her, properly, see her take him in, beg for him, ask for more. He’d wanted that forever, really, thought about it enough times that it almost felt like they had already. Like he had fucked her before and they’d just never spoken about it. But that was all in his head, all just a fantasy, and now it was real, an actual possibility, he was living it. He’d pinch himself but the heat of her lay against him was enough.

She kissed him and his chest tightened, the blood ran from his head straight into his underwear; how she hadn’t felt him, he didn’t know. He forced a gulp and put his palm to the dip above her arse. I want to listen, he thought, I want so badly to pay attention, to be gentle for you. He tilted his head to breathe in the scent of her neck, because that’s where it was strongest, that’s where she smelt most like herself. And his lips went to her skin like she had a fucking magnet beneath.

‘Don’t know how long I can be a gentleman for,’ he told her. It was the least he could do. He was an animal, right, a bloody chauvinist pig like the rest of them, but he wanted her, wanted her so bad, the least he could do was confess it. Honest. He was always honest with her and he was trying, he was. He’d been as good as he could.

She said something back, but all he took from her words was a ‘yes’, a please, so he put his teeth to the edge of her ear, and her breath hitched so sweetly that he thought he might cum on the spot. It was now then, fuck, it was happening at last.

But the fucking phone rang and he knew in an instant who it would be. Who in the world had the bloody seventh sense to always be there at the exact, wrong, moment, to always kick his shins right before the winning penalty. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ he swore. ‘I should take this.’ If he didn’t, he’d just ring again, and again, and he would never be able to enjoy himself, or her. The ringing wouldn’t stop and it wouldn’t help his rhythm, wouldn’t let him find ecstasy, as he knew he would, in her beautiful, sweet, wet—

‘Yeah,’ he said into the receiver, sharper than he intended.

‘Arthur?’ Tommy clarified, as if he could sound like anyone but himself.

‘Yeah.’

‘I need you to do something for me, brother.’

‘Alright,’ he said, agreeing because it was inevitable, it saved time. ‘When?’

She stood from the bed, shutting herself into the bathroom instead of lingering to listen. He looked at the woodgrain while Tommy explained.

‘Alfie Solomons,’ he started, sighing between the words, ‘has asked to hold a meeting, a dinner, of sorts. Tonight. He wants to meet you.’

‘Me?’

He hummed a confirmation; he was probably setting a cigarette into his mouth.

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head a fraction. ‘He’s fucking mad, Tom.’ He’d seen the man only from afar, but heard enough from the boys they had working with him to know that he wasn’t normal, wasn’t right in the head.

‘We’re all mad, Arthur. It’s just how he does business.’

‘Yeah, well, it’s not how we do business,’ he grumbled. They were a collective, a trio. He never went into meetings on his own, never without the support, without at least one brother on his flanks.

‘Go with Billy, alright, our man from the bakery. He’ll meet you outside at six.’

‘Billy? Bloody Billy?’

‘I’d go meself, but there’s something I have to do.’ He exhaled. The smoke may as well have poured through the phone and into Arthur’s ear. ‘Just a couple hours, Arthur, then you can get back to your holiday.’

He was seeing a woman too, of course, it wasn’t something, but someone. He thought they didn’t know he was slipping away, to her house in the country. Dossing about with the maids and the toffs like he was one of them. He put a fuck over his brother, threw the bad jobs to the foot soldiers so he could play between her tits.

‘You should be there,’ Arthur said, tutting. ‘Makes no sense, it being just me.’

He sighed. ‘You wanted more control, brother. Now’s your chance.’

Prove yourself, he meant, prove your worth. Pull your weight. ‘I know,’ he agreed. He had asked for more opportunities with the expansion, but he would never have asked to be dealing with Solomons alone. He rubbed at his brows like he could work will-power into the skin. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘I’ll handle it.’ Because he could. He would.

Tommy coughed into his end, chipping the noise against the side of Arthur’s head. ‘He’s one for theatre,’ he said dryly. ‘Probably just wants to make an impression, alright, and have you running back to me with the gossip. That’s all. Just a fucking show, for sport.’

‘Yeah,’ Arthur laughed, ‘well, you better be fuckin’ right, Tommy. Sending me in blind.’

She was back from the bathroom, bumping against the mattress as she waited. He looked at her once and then pulled away again because she looked like snow, for one dizzying moment, she looked like fucking snow. Not literally, but in feeling. One glance at her had the same effect as a line, as a fresh-filled bottled in his palm; his brain fuzzed in anticipation, excited before he’d even done anything, before he’d even rubbed it on his bloody gums.

‘And don’t fucking fight anyone, eh?’ Tommy nagged in his ear. ‘Keep it civil.’

‘Yeah, alright.’ He was nodding, rattling words out to get it over with, to end the call. ‘Best behaviour,’ he agreed. Then the line cut and he put it back on the stand so he could focus on her again, so he could get the reassurances out of the way, and make her gasp in his ear like she had before. If he didn’t hear that again, his head might blow off, he thought, his teeth might chew themselves to gravel.

‘Fuckin’ showgirl, you are,’ he told her, once she was on his lap and around him like wildfire.

It was a novelty still, thinking things about her and then getting to just say them, to bark them carelessly, knowing it wouldn’t cross any line because the line had gone. Gone up in the smoke, away from them at last. He’s always thought she was a blinder of a woman; he’s always looked at her and felt curses pool in his skull, hot-phrases of compliments dying to go out and all over her. Now he said them freely, now she said intoxicating things in return.

‘Will you have me then?’ she asked and he felt like he’d put his head through the fucking mirror.

Like she didn’t know the answer already, like he wasn’t hard against the back of her thigh. Panting, yanking on the bit, he felt like he did when he lost his calm, but this time it was welcome. This time, she was the stoke beneath the flames. Her hand was in his hair, running through it and back again, rough enough to send goosebumps down his spine. He dragged her over him before he went mad with need.

‘You want it?’ he asked, not bothering to sound polite. He was done with being polite. She melted between his hands, went limp and let him do as he pleased. Let him grind her over, and over, and over on his cock, and there it was, that noise again. That chirp in his ear, the sound of her composure splitting, snapping in a soft ping like thin glass. Like fucking crystal vases. ‘Yeah? You like that?’

He wasn’t a genius, but it didn’t take one to know the answer was yes. Yes, yes, fucking yes.

She liked it, and she kept on liking it until he felt like he was the king of the free world, and she was the country. She was the gold beneath the dirt, the water in the rivers, the stars, the fucking stars, that were spinning behind his eyelids as he lay over her, as he panted into her collarbone. Spent. He was bloody spent. He wouldn’t be able to fuck again, he thought, not after that. Not after what she’d taken from him. He pulled his hips back and they both shook slightly, both worn out and delirious, sensitive like they were having withdrawals.

‘I think,’ she said, taking a breath big enough to lift him, ‘that you have something to say to me.’

‘Eh?’ His brows pinched. He was still a ghost behind the pleasure, sunken in euphoria, slowly coming back to reality. ‘What?’

‘You said—‘

‘Oh, right.’ He knew now; it had shot out of him like a fucking bullet before, in his head one minute, into her chest the next. ‘That.’

‘Yes, that, Arthur.’ She was smiling. Her cheeks were still hot, her mouth still swollen from all the kissing. He’d never kissed a woman as often, and as hungrily, as he kissed her.

‘I do love you,’ he said. ‘A lot. Like, a fucking lot.’ He laughed with it but only because it seemed stupid, silly, to feel the way he did about her, and so strongly, and so freely already. But it wasn’t that new, not really. It wasn’t a feeling that either of them hadn’t felt before. It was as overdue as what they’d just done. Just as sweet, even with the delay.

She put a palm to his face and he wondered for a moment if she cared that it was damp, that he was sweating like he’d run a marathon.

‘I love you too,’ she said lightly.

And he said, ‘say it again,’ because no one had ever told him that and meant it. But she looked like she meant it, he knew that she meant it. ‘Say it again,’ he insisted.  

‘I love you.’

‘Again.’

‘I love you.’

He kissed her, lips to her jaw, her cheek, her temple. ‘Again,’ he said once more, addicted to the sound of it already. He wanted it over and over, until he was drunk on the feeling. Until it was the only noise in his head.

Later, outside the gallery, Arthur waited until the cab had taken her round the corner, and out of his sight entirely. She was safe, and she would stay safe at the hotel. He could do his job in absolute certainty that nothing would happen to her. Not that it would, anyway. She was too smart for that, too tuned in to her surroundings. Always seeing the smoke before he’d even smelt it. That was enough of a comfort to be able to portion her off, just for a bit, tuck her away in his head so he could think clearly. So he could focus. So he could be Arthur-fucking-Shelby, the one man military, the self-contained arms of the Blinders.

He hailed another cab for himself and gave the driver the address, or the almost address, to Solomans’ bakery. He wouldn’t drive right up to the door, sitting like ducks in a tin can, he’d be dropped on the street once over from it. Find Billy and walk in like he owned place.

He could do with some snow, he thought. Just to smooth the cogs, polish the senses. If Billy had any on him —and if he had any mind, he would— he’d take some of that. One boost of the powder couldn’t hurt. They put it in the horses to get them out of the gate and, well, this was one hell of a bloody gate. If Tommy was right, he had nothing to worry about, if he was wrong, he would need all the cocaine he could get his hands on. Tommy had intuition where he had blind rage but, for once, he wasn’t ready for a fight. He wanted it to be easy. Wanted to be back in the hotel like he was a man on holiday, like he’d stepped out for a paper and now he was back again. Ready to make peace with the soft between her thighs.  

Billy was where he was supposed to be, ginger and lumbering, towering above Arthur’s head. He looked nervous; whether it was for the meeting, or for himself, he didn’t know. Didn’t bother to find out. If he was worried about working with Arthur, he should’ve never come in the first place.

‘You got snow, lad?’ Arthur asked, before saying hello or anything else.

‘Snow, Mr. Shelby?’

‘Cocaine.’ He fidgeted with his coat, straightened his tie, waited for his partner to find some fucking common sense. ‘Do I look like a copper, Billy?’

He shook his head. ‘No, sir.’

They didn’t have time for pratting about, he needed the fix, the spark, the ignition. ‘Then stop playing fuckin’ dumb,’ he said, ‘and give me the bloody stuff.’

The bottle was pulled out of a pocket and put into Arthur’s waiting hand without further hesitation. Right, then, they were off. The evening was well on its way. Turning on heel, the pair walked the remaining distance, only stopping when faced with the large double doors to the most elaborate booze-front in London.

They were greeted by a lad taller, but younger, than Billy, who led them through the barrels without saying a word. Arthur tipped a pile of snow onto the edge of his fist as they went and then brought it up, sniffed it in, shot it right into his fucking brain. Felt the zing, the relief. The flash of white behind his eyeballs. He had missed it, he had. He wished he didn’t, but he did and, God, it ran round his skull like a hare on the dog track. He was the winner, now, he’d take the prize. The curly-haired jewish boy looked at him, watched him wipe the excess from under his nose, but said nothing. Good, good, not for him to judge. He knew that well enough. Anyone who worked for the type of people he worked for, just like the Shelbys, knew not to say a damn thing about anything. You had to be trained well to survive in the underworld.  

‘Gentleman! Welcome, welcome!’

There he was, the man he’d come to meet, the eccentric that had asked for him specifically. Alfie boomed into the room, arms wide, like he was a friend and they were much awaited. ‘Mr. Solomon,’ Arthur acknowledged, dipping his chin as the group came to a stop.

‘You must be Arthur.’

‘That is right.’ Alfie took his hands into the both of his; they were cold by comparison. Arthur was running hot already, full with the fire, burnt from the snow. ‘Pleasure to meet you, sir,’ he said, though the baker was still trilling his name over and over. Like Arthur was the fucking royal guest, and maybe he was. Maybe his presence in the club scene hadn’t gone unnoticed. His name preceded him at last, his work put notches in their fucking bedposts.

Alfie pulled forward, tucking their joint hands into his chest. Preening like an eager mother-in-law. ‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ he said, in that unusual voice of his.

It was a warm welcome, in truth, a polite one, and to his luck, to his bloody luck, Arthur was very good at being polite. Fucking wonderful, in fact. He’d already asked Billy what to say in the hallway before. The word bounced around in his head, rattling in excitement. It was ready to come free, to impress, he just had to say it.

‘Shalom,’ he told him, leaning forward too, rounding the syllables, plopping it from his mouth into the small gap between them. ‘Let me just say…’

Alfie looked to his partner, wide-eyed, in surprise, he thought, but the good surprise. Probably impressed, really. Probably didn’t think a Shelby would have the fucking good manners to say it.  

He shook their hands and said again, ‘Shalom.’

It was a strange gathering. Just a handful of them, sitting round a table that was really just four smaller ones, pushed together in a line, under low-hanging lights. He hadn’t seen a crumb of food, but they had rum by the barrel and that was enough. That filled his stomach plenty.

He hadn’t been listening much, not really, just repeating the odd word and agreeing like a good little boy. Like a nice humble gangster. He laughed to himself between sips. If she saw him now, what would she say? What would she think? Bet you never expected this love, grace like a fucking politician. A diplomat. He sat, pleased with himself, and watched it all happen, followed Solomon’s strange, choreographed show behind the cocaine-curtains in his head.

He didn’t come through the noise until they walked a bloody goat into the room.

It was white like snow, like clouds in the blue, like the sheets of their hotel bed, with her hand all knotted up in them. He blinked once to put his thoughts straight. Looked at Alfie like he had been paying attention, very close attention to the droning. Pretended his head wasn’t thumping, fizzing, wasted. ‘You’ve named it?’ he asked, catching only the last half of the sentence.

‘We fucking did, yeah.’

He looked to Billy. Billyboy, Billy with his hair like fire. Billy who was still fucking bricking it. ‘They named the fucking goat,’ he lowed. Pay attention, son, act like you care. This was important to them, to Solomons, this was the chain between the anchor and the hull.

Alfie continued, ‘The evil fucking Egyptian pharaoh—‘

‘The fucking enemy,’ Arthur added.

‘That’s right,’ he agreed.

They were singing, going hand in hand, running in sync like clockwork. This is how you do business, Billyboy, this is why Tommy sent him. Arthur, with all his roughness, still had the fucking mouth, the right good brain on him to partake, to converse intellectually, like. To sit amongst kings as an equal. He had Alfie with him now, on his shoulder. Parroted words off each other like chums, like longtime friends. Relations, you see, Billy, they’re a craft. An art. He had sculpted this exactly as he should have. Sit there and watch.

‘You know what we called it?’ Alfie asked, eyebrows lifting.

Arthur leant back, puffed his chest, sang like the crow at dawn. ‘Yeah, what did ya call him?’

‘Tommy Shelby.’

It happened at once. So quick, Arthur was acting on instinct and nothing else. He burst forward and the bullet came across the table, shot out from Alfie’s hip, right into Billy’s chin, the soft underneath, the money shot, the dead fucking ringer, and rope went around Arthur’s neck; held him back, pulled him tight. Choking, choked. The spit balled on his lip. He tried to swear, but it cut through as a gasp, a wheeze. He stuttered like a pig in the slaughterhouse, thrashing before they hung him up to bleed. The bastard had been lying, tricking, planning it from the start. It wasn’t business, it was a trap. A fucking trap. He’d walked right into it, sole after bloody sole, led by his hand into the belly of the beast. He went to curse him again but the words broke apart, shredded into a roar.

If he had to go, it wouldn’t be in the basement of a bakery. Not at the hands of men without respect.

He was reaching for Alfie, clawing at him, knees pushing the table and rattling the silverware. They had to use two men to get him back, to drag him to the nearest support pole. They wrangled him, rope cutting, twisting and burning at the base of his throat, until he was rod-straight against it. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t fucking breathe. His fingertips were trapped between the threads and his neck, helpless, unable to pull a gap big enough to let air through. He’d felt it before, he didn’t want it again.

Fuck you. Fuck you, Solomons, fuck you, Tommy. Fuck the rope. Fuck the goat spilling blood over the floor. Fuck the lot of it, and then some. He would kick his way through the dirt before they put him down like this.  

‘Yeah?’ Alfie taunted, only approaching now Arthur was contained, strung up like meat. He dipped his head. ‘What was that?’

‘Fuck you,’ he snarled back.

Alfie’s knee went into his gut, hard into the tissue, the pool of rum; Arthur would’ve collapsed if he could’ve. The pain was bad enough. He groaned, whined, dripped spit and blood down his chin. His hands went forward, grasping at Alfie’s coat for some relief, some purchase.

‘That’s right, let’s take a load off,’ he said, lifting Arthur by his ears. Up as if he was nothing.

And then the air came back, pouring down his throat like liquor, blood going up and into his head in the same rush of feeling. He could think again, he could, his brain was pounding, pulsing against the skull. It was there. Kicking still. Angry noise replaced with a word, with one image, one light beneath the dark. Her. Her, he would live for her. His feet would touch the fucking ground again and take him back.

‘So,’ Alfie drawled by his ear, talking though he wasn’t listening, didn’t care, ‘the evil, Egyptian scum, was finally cleansed.’ He brought a rag to Arthur’s forehead, stained red, and dabbed it onto the skin between his brows. ‘With the blood of the Passover goat, mate.’

It was put to his mouth, wiped through his lips. He tasted the sourness, the copper, but he still didn’t care. He was thinking of her, clutching to the idea of it. The golden sun on her arms, the lift of her cheeks, the pull of her smile, the sound, the words she said, the soft, oh, the soft. Keep that, Arthur, hold that. One breath forced after the other. They couldn’t hurt you if you weren’t there, not in your head. He put himself into her hold and stayed close to her heart. Heard the drum of it between the chaos.  

Alfie was kissing each of his cheeks like it was a greeting, and not a seal of death. Not an X on the line.

‘That’s from Sabini,’ he said and, after that, there was nothing.  

Read part eleven >>

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taglist: @theshelbyclan​ @woeisbutwoe​ @random-stupid-stuffs​ @sanktaalinaa​ @peaky-arthur​ @murderousginger​ @isaiahdurag​ @inceptenet​ @fanngirl19​ @queenoftheworldisdead​ @bellamybellamyblake​ @caelys​ @ourlordandsaviourmrstark​ @meltingicequeen​ @hufflepeople​

[hardyimagines]

Part 4 — A Little Bit of Something

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First of all! Your Baker series with Alfie saves me from utter boredom whilst I’ve been on my bum sick so thank you 🙏 Can I get an Alfie x reader where she isn’t a gangster but she’s kinda like Tommy’s Assistant/stand in date for events, and Alfie gets an embarrassing crush on her? 😝 — @kitcatimpala67

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

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Ocean Eyes. They were the first thing you woke up to. Big pools of an inviting blue swam vibrantly before you. The tired eyes flickered with realization before gliding away from your, now awake, features. He’d been staring at your rosy cheeks and parted lips, studying how peaceful you looked as you slept. Your breaths were clouded with the heavy intake of alcohol you’d endlessly consumed the night before, but it didn’t bother him. He didn’t dare distant himself. You’d woken up as he was in the midst of eyeing your lengthy lashes. They were curled oddly elegantly, long and full, but the second they’d fluttered open, he felt like a child, caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

The creaky bed moaned beneath you when you began to shift to find a new position. You didn’t say anything about his gawking, that conversation would surely be awkward for the both of you. You noticed Alfie’s arm, trapped beneath your warm body, as you repeatedly shifted. His rough fingertips grazed the hot skin of your shoulder as you rolled around on the cold sheet, searching for some sort of warmth to lay on.. aside from the man at your side. “You move a fuck ton, you know that, pet, fucking rolling this way and that all night long.” He grumbled softly.

His voice was croaky and even deeper than usual due to his lack of using it overnight. His free arm bent at the elbow, stuck up in the air as his fingers traced his beard, a habit he did each morning. The scratchy hair tickled his calloused skin, but he was use to the feel. You watched him briefly before you decided the most comfy spot on the bed was being nuzzled up and against him. “I don’t move that much.” You pointed out as you stilled, voice resembling an unhappy child as you laid your head on his shoulder. The muscle flexed briefly beneath your head before easing and you were sure it was because you’d caught him offguard with the want to cuddle again.

“You do, actually, right, I’m fucking stiff. I couldn’t move a muscle because of you, darl.” He muttered, voice careless, but words the opposite. Over the years of working with Alfie Solomons it was possible for you to pick out the amusement in his voice, no matter how faint it was. This was one of those times. “You should’ve slept on the floor then.” You muttered against his skin before shifting again. The crook of your knee curled around Alfie’s shin, locking around him in a semi-vice. “You’re also a fucking cuddler, look how much room you’ve fucking got, yeah, but you’re all the way over here on my side.” His words caused you to lift your head so you could peer over your shoulder. He was right. There was so much room on your side, enough space for you to starfish out, and yet, here you were, practically laying on top of the man.

“You don’t like my cuddles?” You chirped sweetly before beginning to roll away. His large palm sunk into the center of your back, drawing your body against his own once more. “No, I do.” He mutteredly gruffly. “You’re awfully warm, I’m only teasing you.” His hand moved lower, tracing the length of your spine before he halted. He couldn’t allow his hand to go too low. This was all an act. An act that couldn’t be dropped, not even in the privacy of a bedroom. Thomas could be in the hall, eavesdropping. Your voices could be floating through the vents. There was no way to know and no way to tell, so ceasing the act of being a couple wasn’t an option.

The blanket was dragged up and along your bodies with your small fist. Leaning down, your lips skimmed Alfie’s ear, breaths soft. “Do you think they’re listening to us?” Alfie smirked. In order for you to reach his ear, you’d lifted yourself on to one knee, leaving the other to rest in its previous position between his legs as you hovered above him. His brows lifted, head bobbing lightly to answer your question. “Well then.” You sat back, hands moving to your hips. “Wheres my morning kiss?” Alfie arched a brow. “I’m not kissing you anymore in the mornings, right, pet, you get so carried away. I haven’t got the energy this morning for a fucking fuck and if I kiss you, I know you’ll try something funny, yeah.”

Your mouth fell open in an accusing look. Staring at the man with a glare, you pinched his thigh. “That‘s all you, Alfie. Horny git.” You slid off of his body and placed your barefoot on the cold wooden floor. Your other foot was seconds away from joining before Alfie drew you back a bit harshly, but playfully. You hit the bed with an oof, mattress rocking lightly beneath the movement. A wide grin pulled at your lips before it faded so you could kiss the man that now hovered above you. “Do you want me to have fake sex with you?” Your words were swallowed by his mouth, eager and more than happy to kiss you. His knees sunk into the bed on either side of your hips, hands doing the same to the mattress beside your head. “Fake sex?” His whisper was soft, nose skimming your own as he spoke. “How on earth would we pull that off?” A lazy smile pulled at your lips.

You shifted your weight beneath the man once more before moving your small hands to the blanket that rested around his hips and drew the material up to the middle of his back. Spreading your legs wide, the straps of your dress fell from their position on your shoulder to instead dangle around your arms. If anyone were to walk in, all it would take would be a little jolt of Alfie’s hips and a mind-numbing expression of pleasure on your face to convince them. The pair of you looked naked, you just had to play the role of a couple having sex now. “Moan.” You muttered quietly to him.

Alfie gave you a look of surprise. “I don’t moan.” He growled softly, narrowing his eyes as he stared down at you. “Everyone moans.” You rolled your eyes, hands slithering between the pair of your bodies. “Moan, Alfie, it’s not that hard.” You allowed your slender finger to trace the front of his chest, letting it glide all the way down and to the skin beneath his navel. You watched his eyes flutter before he forced them heavily open. “Aww.. you like that?” You smirked lazily. “Alfie Solomons, a very dangerous and mean gangster has a weak spot.” You cooed playfully before wiggling beneath him. “I’ve got more than one.” He sighed beneath his breath as he stared down st you, his biggest weakness. “Moan, Alfie.” You instructed once more, arm folding beneath your head so you had a good view of him. “I’ll do it right after, I just think it’s more believable if you go first.”

Alfie rolled his eyes before averting them. He felt uncomfortable and yet.. not. His head tipped forward to rest against your own and as you’d told him to, he moaned. It was soft and low and you were positive nobody else could’ve heard it, but it took you a moment to tell him it wasn’t good enough. It definitely was.. it just wasn’t loud. Your hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling his face toward yours. If all of this wasn’t for an act, you were sure it would be so much more enjoyable. Your head dipped and your pink lips pressed against his throbbing pulse. Goosebumps scattered along his sensitive skin, drawing a slow smile from you. Your mouth suckled at the thin skin above his pulse, tugging and licking at the flesh until it was purple and bruised. Alfie groaned breathily, unable to hide the fact that he really did enjoy what you were doing. He just wasn’t loud enough. Your lips trailed up his neck and to his fuzzy coated jaw, cheeks, and chin. Kissing each area of skin sweetly, your mouth eventually settled on his. Alfie knew this was all just an act, but the way you were kissing him didn’t feel like an act. There was depth and passion in the way your lips moved against his. The two of you were in private and didn’t really even kiss in public. It was meant to be the other way around. Your arms circled Alfie’s neck, lips moving slowly against his own as your feet brushed along his calf. Breathy moans escaped your lips as his tongue swiped along your own, but none of your moans, even mixed with his, were loud enough for anyone to hear. You didn’t think.

Thomas was lounging in his office, head tilted back to rest against the dark chair he was situated on. The velvet rubbed the back of his neck soothingly with each roll of his neck. He adjusted his grip on the lit cigarette, eyes moving toward the vents as everything went silent. “Grace.” He called quietly, his deep voice carrying through the small room. The blonde lifted her eyes to the man, one brow lifting slightly. “Mh?” Her red nails traced the page of her book before she squinted lightly, growing a little impatient when her husband took his time to speak. “Go check on them, will you?” Grace’s eyes drifted to the vent in the corner. “They’re quiet, Tommy, they’ve probably just gone back to sleep.” The man grumbled before sitting up. Dabbing out the end of his cigarette, he stood. “Right.” He sidestepped the sofa in the center of the room before hauling open the white wooden door and making his way downstairs. It was time to eat anyways, he could smell the food simmering. He licked his pink lips, its usual dryness fading as the moisture wet it. “Alfie?” The deep voice filled the hall.

You froze beneath the man. Your lips ceased their movements, head dropping down on the pillow. This was the time to really act. “Oh.. god.” You suddenly whimpered, brows lifting as you stared up at Alfie. His hand lifted away from the mattress so his fingers could wrap around the headboard. “Mate, yeah, I’m a bit fucking busy!” A lazy smile painted itself across your face, breaths normal and features happy as you let out another fake, but very realistic sounding groan of enjoyment. Thomas cocked a brow at the sound before pressing his shoulder against the wall. “Food’s ready. Was just coming to tell you.” His eyes fell to the floor, searching for a shadow. There was none. He lifted his gaze back to the knob. “I’m a bit full, mate.” Alfie knelt up on top of you and went to pull back, but you, apparently smarter when it came to faking this, flipped him over. You stood up so your body towered over his own. Smirking down at him, you began to jump, effectively creating a loud creaking in the mattress. Thomas lifted an eyebrow at the sound before folding his arms and distancing slightly. “Alright, Alfie. Guests will arrive soon and Y/N,” There was a brief pause. “There’s a dress hanging in the closet for you.”

You ceased your movements. Arching a brow, your eyes slid to the door before you dropped down. Straddling Alfie Solomons wasn’t something you’d ever really thought you’d do, but now here you were, settled on his thighs as he sighed breathily. The mattress continued to creak as you moved toward him. “We’d better end it there.” Leaning over, you kissed his lips softly before sliding off of the bed. Wounding your fingers in your dark hair, you twisted your locks before settling them on the top of your head in a neat bun. “We aren’t breathing heavy.” You alerted Alfie quietly as you moved toward the vanity in the corner. It was a dark brown, smooth to the touch. It was very beautiful. “You were just jumping.” He pointed out in surprise. If he would’ve bounced like you had been, he’d be doubled over on the floor, unable to suck in gulps of much needed air.

“And you didn’t do anything except lie there. If this were real sex, I’d expect a lot more.” You pointed a finger at him before tutting. Your barefeet hit the floor softly, padding along it as you approached the closet doors. The hinges creaked as you slid it open, eyes instantly settling on the only attire in the entire space. It was red and beautiful. Shimmery and breathtaking. There was lace on the bodice and it was low-cut so Alfie, along with every other man, would have a great view. You rolled your eyes before dragging the fabric out and holding it up for Alfie to see. “It’s beautiful.” You beamed.

Alfie sat up slowly, blue eyes unmoving from you as you stared at the dress. “Yeah.” He agreed softly, though he still hadn’t even looked at the fabric. He was stuck staring at you. “Uh-“ He rose. “Well, I’m going to go, yeah, get some clothes for myself, right and you, yeah, you put that on and I’ll be back in just a minute.” You we’re oblivious to his racing thoughts so you merely nodded before turning away. The second he left, you began to pull off your clothing, hurriedly undoing the zipper on the back of the red dress so you could tug it on. The last thing you needed was for Alfie to come in here while you were undressed. The heavy fabric was a bit difficult to pull on, but you managed eventually. It embraced every curve you had and though you didn’t have the biggest breasts, this dress did wonders. Smiling at your reflection, you didn’t have much time alone to yourself. Alfie made his way back into the room, changed and ready. He wore some fancy black trousers and a white button down. He looked like he usually did. As handsome as always. You pursed your lips in faux examination, pretending to scrutinize him before you stepped toward him. “You look good.” You pointed out, but Alfie was still, mouth agape as he stared at you and then your dress. “My god..” He whispered, swallowing audibly. “You look.. wow.” His eyes lifted away from the dress to instead study your own. You fluttered your lashes slowly before approaching him further. “Well, thank you, Mr. Solomons.” Leaning up on your tiptoes, your lips skimmed his own. He’d left the door open and you’d taken advantage of it. Kissing him twice more, you hmphed beneath your breath. “I’ve got to go find Grace. I’ll see you in a bit.”

———

It was an hour later before you were able to find Alfie again. Guests were piled practically on top of each other as they all danced along to the warm tune that filled the room. Your makeup was done and your hair was neater, you looked absolutely elegant. Around your neck an angelic necklace hung, chain dipping into your cleavage, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. In the center, near a lengthy table that had food laid across, Alfie stood, fingers picking here and there as he ate what he pleased. “I’m back.” You cooed, the second you were within his earshot. You’d never seen a man look in your direction so quickly. His eyes lit up and the food he held fell back on to the plate. “Y/N.” He stepped toward you. He was absolutely speechless and you found it very charming. “I came to dance.. and it looks like you were waiting for me.” You teased, though you offered your hand. Alfie was not a dancer. But he would do it if he meant he got to hold you for the night. Nothing but the pair of your bodies, wrapped around each other as you swayed to the music. He’d definitely do that.

“You, right, you’re really fucking beautiful.” Alfie muttered against your ear as you drew yourself into his body. His voice was so soft, it tickled the sensitive skin on your neck when it wafted over your flesh. You looped your arms around his shoulders and tightened your grip on him slightly, eyes fluttering. “It’s the dress, Alfie.” The pair of you swayed lazily along to the music, paying no mind to other couples that danced alongside you. Alfie was oblivious to people who greeted him and you were oblivious to those who complimented your attire. There was only Alfie right now. You hated it. Why did you feel like this. “It’s not the fucking dress, yeah. Its you.” He would’ve expanded his sentence further, but you cut him off with a gentle sigh. “I’ve worked for you for years.” You spoke quietly, head tilting downward so your breaths hit the buttons on the front of the white shirt he wore. “You’ve never called me beautiful before.”

Alfie hunched over, arm tightening around your waist. Your words were true, but just because he didn’t express his feelings verbally didn’t mean he hadn’t always had that opinion. “No, dove, I never have, but that’s just because I, right, didn’t think you’d ever be interested in someone like me.” The hardwood floor was slippery beneath you so you kept a very firm grip on Alfie. Thomas danced a few feet away with Grace, entire room loud and lively. You leaned in so you didn’t miss a single word Alfie said. Your brow lifted before you drew back so you could see him fully. His broad chest puffed out beneath your gaze, features attempting to harden, but his eyes were too soft. He tried to change his demeanor so he didn’t look so.. weak and emotional, but it was impossible to shield the way he felt from you. “Alfie.. why would I not be interested in you?” The question was serious but a hint of a giggle left your lips, trailing along behind your words. Your eyes slid between his curiously. Had Alfie ever let anyone that close to him? Had anybody ever told the man that they loved him? Your fingers slid along the front of his body, caressing the front of his shirt slowly.

The man let out a low chortle of disbelief. “Look at you, yeah,” He ushered to you, briefly lifting his hand away from your hip to motion along your form. “You’re.. a whole fucking lot better looking than I am and you’ve got a sweet side to you, pet, feisty as well, right, I know that better than anyone, but you, yeah, are too fucking good for anyone, let alone me.” You raised an impressed brow before slinking forward. Your arms tightened around his neck, ears twitching each time his cockney accent thickened further. “You have a sweet spot as well, Mr. Solomons. I’ve seen it. Gentlemen, they kiss women on the head before sleeping. They ask women to dance. They open the car door for you and hold you close.. protectively. You, Alfie, are a lot more charming than you seem to be aware of.” The tops of your nails traced the back of his hot neck slowly, smiling up at him. His eyes danced with an emotion you hadn’t seen before so you studied the little beam in his soft-colored orbs. “Right, well why haven’t you let me take you out on a proper date yet, mh?” He spun you smoothly before pulling your back against his chest so he could cradle you. A lazy smile tugged at your lips as you tilted your head back to rest it against his chest. “Because you haven’t asked.” You whispered, head turning to the side so your words filled his ear. He licked his lips before slowly placing his hand on your stomach. Dragging you in even closer to his body, his lips parted near your own ear, but a deep voice ruined the moment.

“Alfie? Could I have a word with you?” The gangster tore his eyes away from you, a heavy weight grabbing ahold of his heart. Never in all his life had he ever had the courage to tell a woman just how he felt and right when he had it, the opportunity was ripped away. Alfie cleared his throat before straightening. “Fucking hell, Tommy.” The Baker began to pull away but you tightened your grip on him, lips parted. “Alfie..” You whispered. Though his name was swallowed by the loud music, he felt as if he’d heard it. His dark eyes, now angry and disappointed fell on you. Your brows lifted. “Don’t be so sour, come here.” As if he were under your spell, he obediently moved toward you, unafraid to reveal how weak he was when it came to you in front of Tommy. You cupped the side of his neck and gently pulled his lips to your own. You knew he had business to take care of, but if he thought he could walk away from such a conversation without so much as kissing you, he needed to rethink his thoughts. Your lips moved slowly against his own, savoring the feel and taste of him, though you were sure he wouldn’t be gone that long.” You let a little moan free, most of it for Alfie and part of it for Thomas. Your tongue ran over Alfie’s at a rather painfully slow pace before you drew back. Wiping the corners of his lips to rid of any lipsticks, you smiled slowly.

“We will continued this conversation tonight, mh?” You whispered, receiving an instant nod from him. Thomas stood a few inches away, one hand tucked away in the dark pocket of his trousers as the other cradled an unlit, wobbling cigarette. He was growing a bit impatient, but had to admit the pair of you made a good looking couple. Thomas turned when Alfie began to follow and you were suddenly left alone in the center of the room. You’d never felt so vulnerable before. Your hand lifted to ensure your bun was still in place as you slowly set off to find Grace or any other Shelby.

Alfie briefly craned his neck to peer over his shoulder and look at you one more time, but the crowd was too large and had swept you away. He looked back toward Thomas. “Right, mate, why are we having to go so fucking far away from the party, yeah, I don’t like to leave Y/N by herself.” Alfie halted in the hallway, briefly inspecting the framed photos that hung crookedly on the worn walls. Thomas turned to face him with a grunt before shifting his weight. “I heard you’re working with Sabini.” Alfie cocked a brow. “Nah, Tommy, you didn’t invite me and the girl all the way out here, right, to ask me such a simple fucking question, so skip that fucking one, yeah, since you clearly know the fucking answer and get to the actual fucking point.” Thomas tongued his cheek lightly, counting the amount of times Alfie used the word ‘fuck.’ Too many was the result.

“Answer the question, Alfie. It’s a simple yes or no.” The dark-haired, blue-eyed man spoke. He withdrew a box of matches from his pocket before harshly rubbing the tip of it over the black rectangle on the top of the box. The flame ignited so he lifted the heat to the end of the cigarette and lit it. Studying Alfie as he did so, he inhaled deeply before tucking the matches away. “I, yeah, I’m not fucking working with anyone right now. Sabini, right, he’s a bit too wishy-washy for my fucking liking and he had a man, yeah, come to my fucking shop, walking about. I fucking shot him, so if you’ve got something to worry about, it’s one of those fucking Italians showing up here, uninvited. Now, Tommy, if you can’t trust me, yeah, say so now, I don’t want to have to spend the rest of my fucking evening looking over my shoulder, right, and watching my fucking back because one of your fucking brothers might possible fire a bullet into the back of my head, yeah.” Thomas smiled slowly before lifting his brows in understanding. “I invited you here for a good time, Mr. Solomons. Go have it. Keep a close eye on your girl though. Shelby boys have a hard time keeping their hands off of what isn’t there’s.”

Alfie clenched his jaw as the man slipped past him and headed back to the main room. The black trench coat he wore swished in the wind as he vanished back into the room. Alfie shook his head in disbelief before moving back down the corridor and into the loud room. His chest was vibrating from how loud it was. Contagious laughter and drunken conversations danced along to the beat of the music as he pushed through the sweaty bodies. His eyes were alert, searching for you in the crowd. Thomas had interrupted such a cherished conversation for something beyond stupid and Alfie was holding his breath, hoping the conversation could resume now opposed to later. He didn’t see you anywhere though and the little bubble in his chest, the bubble of worry, popped. Suddenly, he felt nauseous. The Shelby’s wouldn’t hurt you. But he didn’t know anyone else at this gathering so he felt like he had no control. His blue eyes flickered from guest to guest, scanning each face. “Alfie?” Your hand pressed against his shoulder.

The man whirled around in surprise. He looked ready to maul someone. You lifted a brow at his expression before adjusting the second drink you cradled in your hand. “I.. are you alright?” You questioned, lips pursing as he didn’t speak. He grunted beneath his breath before slowly licking his lips. “Course.” His voice was flooded with relief. A small smile played on your lips before you handed him the drink you’d brought for him. “Do you want to go somewhere more private? So we can talk?” You asked softly, feeling a bit shy now that you knew he actually did have some amount of feelings for you. His eyebrows furrowed before he nodded lightly, hand falling to the middle of your back. This was a large home. Surely there was somewhere they could go and be alone. The pair of you set off, both of you quiet, raking your brains for conversation starters, but you were sure it would be fine once you were actually alone. Alfie led you down a lengthy corridor and toward a door at the back. “Horny couples are bound to dip into one of the first fucking doors, right.” He explained as he nudged the wood open. You stepped inside with a lazy grin before eyeing the interior. A large bed resided in the center with the most expensive set of lights dangling from the ceiling. Alfie shut the door and twisted the look to prevent any interruptions. You sighed gently before slowly lowering yourself down on the bed. “So.” You studied him, attempting to read the look on his face. “So.” He repeated, moving toward the wall to study more photographs. The drink in his hand was untouched, whereas yours was half empty. “So you like me.” You blurted out. Alfie lifted a brow, head craning so he could look toward you with a surprised look. “To put it bluntly.” He chuckled, eyeing the way your cheeks reddened. “And you?” A soft hum left your lips and then a gentle nod. The bed creaked as you shifted, unsure whether or not this meant things between the two of you could progress. “Does it bother you that I’m your boss?” He asked, arms folding as he leaned back against the grey wall. You shook your head. “Of course not.. I haven’t exactly been looking at you like your my boss over the last few days, Alfie.”

The man pushed himself off of the wall and made his way toward you. He briefly adjusted the cuffs on his white shirt before lowering himself down at your side. “I suppose I should take you out officially, yeah, not as my little prop or whatever it is ive been doing to you.” You smiled slowly. “I’d like that.” Your hand fell to rest on his knee, tracing his skin through the black slacks he wore. “So the kisses.. have those been genuine?” You asked the man softly, curiosity swimming in your gaze as you ogled him. He smiled. “I’d say so, yeah, ever since yesterday was when I fucking realized, but I suppose, right, the second we started this little thing Ive felt real feelings toward you.” Goosebumps scattered along your skin before you shivered as a delicate warmth spread through you. “You could’ve had me a long time ago, Alfie.” You whispered before slowly leaning into him so you could lay your head on his soft, but large shoulder. His hand covered the one you had on his knee and his lips skimmed the top of your head. “I was oblivious.” He muttered, drawing a grin from you. “But I won’t be anymore.” You suckled on your lower lip before turning your head so you could see Alfie. Your eyes fell to his mouth and you begged for him to kiss you inwardly. Lucky for you, he wasn’t an idiot. The man lifted his hand to cup the back of your neck before he drew you in for a long, but very slow kiss. He poured every ounce of affection into it, wanting to ensure that you knew how he really felt. You had another date with Alfie Solomons, but this time would be very, very different..

—————————————————————

Part 1  Part 2   Part 3

Tagged: @thatsamegirl @peakyhoegh @ihclipse @callisen @hardygal69 @centerhabit @favouritereadings @goodiesintheclosetlove @buckypetal15 @kitcatimpala67 @captstefanbrandt @meer0rauschen @crldrr @vanillafarts

I haven’t had the chance to proofread so sorry for any mistakes!!! I have a super good idea for the next chapter and am really excited to write it (:

[brivera96-blog1]

The Baker and The Traveler Part 1.

This is part one to a story I’m writing. *SMUT WARNING* Disclaimer: I do not own the Peaky Blinders or any characters associated with the how! I think we can all agree that Tom Hardy is hot. 

The chill nipped at her nose as she walked down the platform from the large ship to the dock below with two suitcases in tow. England was a lot colder than what her brother had mentioned in his letter, now that she thought about it there were a few things he had gotten wrong in the letter. For starters it didn't appear to be dark, dreary, dirty and rainy. In fact the sun was shinning brightly, the faces were friendly and the town they had docked in was nothing like the mess she experienced in New York, but she still blamed it on the fact that her brothers mind was sullied by the war and she knew she had to cut him some slack. His letters had started out seeming like he was excited to be going off with the boys, he was excited about the planes and guns but over time the letters got harder and harder to read, the death, the loss, the anger. A loud whistle sounded and her head shot up as she looked around. She barely recognized his face which sent a pang of guilt through her, her sweet brother who exuded happiness was now tired and haggard looking, she walked over to him and they stood there an arms length apart grinning like fools.

"You look like an angry old bear bub." she pulled a sour face at him.

"You look like a starved sow sis." They stared each other down before both burst out laughing and hugged each other. Her eyes started stinging as he squeezed her tight. It had been years since he had been shipped off and once the war was over he had never returned, something about how Camden had grown on him and the girls threw themselves at him. She honestly didn't blame him. When he had invited her to join him in England she jumped at the chance to leave their small Texas town. Their parents had initially been upset but surprised her for her 23rd birthday with the ticket for the ship which would bring the girl to the place where she could start her own life, no longer in the shadow of their oil company and family business.

"We better get goin' Camden is a bit of a haul." He heaved her bags into the automobile motioning for her to climb in.

  As they rode through town after town he told her stories of how his friends that made it back with him would go out drinking and dancing, where to avoid going, where to go, where to eat, stores, and parks. She hummed in response and and told him how their mom and dad were doing, what their older sister and nephews had been up to, the oil company and how the restaurants were coming along despite the ban of spirits. Before she knew it he pulled up in front of a set of houses on a busy street. Camden had an air to it, something told her her new life here was going to be an adventure. Nathan led her into the house carrying her bags effortlessly as if the over stuffed things weighed nothing but it was nothing new, she'd seen the boy carry a 150 pound hog. He set her bags down by the kitchen and she walked over to the mantle that rested above a bricked fireplace, pictures of their family were placed along the top. The frame at the end contained two pictures, one of her brother in his uniform and the second made tears well in her eyes. She rubbed her thumb over the face, those blue green eyes that seemed to stare into her soul, oh the many days she spent staring into those eyes, the thought made her take hold of the ring on her necklace. Nathan placed a hand on her shoulder squeezing lightly.

"I'm sorry sis. I tried bringin' him back." His voice was sullen. She set the frame back where it sat previously and smiled meekly.

"Past is the past Nate. You made it back and we're here now ain't we?"

 She had been begging Nathan to let her adventure out on her own, maybe find a place to work so she could help her brother being as she'd been eating all his food. She pulled a dress up over her small form and buttoned the top before dragging some stockings up her legs cussing as she did, she had never have been much of a dress person but he insisted she try to blend in with the crowd. She slid her arms into her long coat, stepped into her shoes and grabbed her bag off the table.

"Nathan I'll be back! I'm gunna' do a bit of shopping!" As she opened the door the chill hit and she shrank further into her jacket.

"Best get back here before dark. It's not the coyotes you have to worry about here." He glanced around the kitchen wall, his face stern. She waved him off as she walked out the door.

 The girl had walked around town for what seemed like hours, met a few girls at a dress shop that seemed very friendly and girl in a floral shop that wanted to meet up for lunch tomorrow. The thought of food made her stomach growl so she stopped an older gentleman who was hobbling down the sidewalk with his dog to ask where she could find something to eat.

"Yeah, jus' down tha' road there. There's a bakery." He smiled and thumbed in the direction he spoke of.

"Thanks hun." she started off down the street.

The building seemed awfully large but that was a recurring theme in this town. She pushed the large door open and the smell of fresh bread hit her nose, warm and inviting. A young man looked up from the paper he was writing on and eyed her as she slid her coat off and rested it on a chair, she walked over to the counter and he stood up straight.

"What can I help you with darlin?" she peaked in the display cases ogling the bread and pastries frowning slightly at the lumpy little cakes.

"What would you recommend?" He cocked a brow at her and frowned.

"Well the cakes and pastries are fuckin' awful." He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a small smile.

"Well do you need someone that knows what they're doin' in the kitchen?" They both laughed.

"What's your name?"

"Rilynn but my friends call me Lynn. You?" She stuck out a hand to shake his.

"Ollie." He grasped her hand. "Where are you-"

"Ollie! Where tha' fuck are ya?" Ollie's hand jerked back quickly and he froze as a man walked out from a hallway behind the counter. "I been fuckin' yellin' for ya!"

"Sorry Mr. Solomons, just helping the young lady." He motioned in her direction. The tall man walked around the counter with a small limp and stopped in front of her, peering at the small woman. She eyed the ink all over his arms and let her gaze drift to his face, his beard hairs slightly curled with a scar running through one side, but it wasn't until their eyes met that she stopped breathing. That same blue green.

"Needin' some bread love?" she felt her face heat up and noticed the small smirk that gave way on his lips. "Or are ya just here to flirt with my bakers yeah?" she let out a snort and held out her hand.

" My names Rilynn. I found myself here looking for something to eat cause I have a bit of a sweet tooth but Ollie and I were discussin how awful the sweets are here." Ollie sucked in a hard breath and paled. The tall man stared at her hand before taking it in his and kissing it sending shocks through her body.

"Yeah, they are a bit fuckin' rough huh? You can call me Alfie. This is my bakery." Ollie stood wide eyed.

"It's a shame ya know? With good sweets you could bring in decent money on top of what you make on bread." she sighed and swept her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Could I now? An' ows' that?" He rubbed a hand over his beard.

"Lots of kids and women in the area. We enjoy our sweets and I've been known to make the best goodies around." she gave him a wink and he hummed.

"Ya do, yeah? Follow me love." He waved a hand and started down the dimly lit hall, she followed suit until they reached a large door which he opened and motioned for her to walk in first. It smelled of whiskey and spices, the same homey smell that reminded her of her grandmas house. She sat in the small chair in front of the large desk and crossed her legs slouching slightly sighing contently. Alfie lowered himself into the large seat on the other side of the desk and leaned back rubbing his beard and eyeing her through squinted lids. They sat in silence for what seemed like eternity before he finally spoke.

"Where ya from love?" his voice was gruff but soft and their eyes met again.

"Texas." he raised a brow. Texas? American huh? That would explain the accent and nonchalant demeanor. He watched her eyes scan over him before lingering on his own. "Moved here a few days ago, my older brother got a house here after the war." He let his own eyes slide over her small frame taking note of the small tribal like inking on her own arm, he'd seen similar designs on a Cherokee man during the war. Her hair was long and blonde, different from the short choppy dark hair of all the women he'd seen, she was shorter than him by at least a foot and her body was curvy, slightly top heavy and her skin was tanned, her eyes reminded him of the fields outside of town,.

"An' ya know how ta bake, yeah?" a small sly smile snaked it's way onto her full lips and he leaned forwards placing his elbows on the desk. A girl like this could bring more attention to his 'bakery', a pretty women would have people lining up out the door and he certainly wouldn't mind having something to look at himself.

"I could out bake the angels themselves." She laughed lightly and readjusted her legs.

"Needin a job yeah? It's not a bad place, right, and ya'd get free bread." she sat up straight in shock.

"Here? Free bread, handsome boss, baking? Hell, you had me at free bread!" she laughed again and the man across from her felt his lip twitch at the corner. Handsome? It'd been a long time since he'd been called anything other than a dickhead.

"Yeah, been a while since I had a pretty bird in my bakery, innit? Is that a yes?" he watched her cautiously as she nodded. "Good, be here tomorrow morning, yeah?" the girl stood quickly as he lifted himself from the chair and they shook hands again.

  As she walked into the bakery Ollie raised a brow at her while she placed her coat on the rack, hair in a long braid, rolling her sleeves to her elbows wondering why the girl had arrived so early, Alfie hadn't even arrived yet. He watched as she confidently waltzed behind the counter and into the kitchen grabbing an apron and tying it around her waist before setting up the record player and getting to work. Aside from arriving very early this was her usual routine so he shrugged it off and went back to wiping down the tables.  An hour had passed and the warm smell of cake and blueberries filled the bakery, the girl was singing along with the tune coming from the record player when the door opened and Alfie stepped through the threshold cane in hand.

"Mornin Mr. Solomons." Ollie watched as the tall man walked past him and into the kitchen to where the girl was. He observed her as she leaned against the counter holding a mug to her lips taking in the taste of the bitter coffee, eyes closed and humming to the music. This girl had come and added what the workers said was a new light to the shop, it had been a month since she started and already his bakery had gained many new customers. She would bake danishes and bring them down to the distillery for all the men, he had yet to try a single thing she'd made but trusted they must be good by all the praise he had received. Out of all the people he employed aside from Ollie she worked the hardest, he never had to raise his voice or ask her to do things, she washed the linens, baked, cleaned, brought him coffee, organised his office for him and helped with paperwork.

"Just gunna sit and stare?" her voice was playful. He grumbled and leaned against the counter opposite of her as she handed him his own mug and a plate with a muffin.

"Yer fuckin early pet." he rested the mug on the counter before picking up the muffin and examining it.

"Figured I'd let you get first taste before the workers get here. Go ahead, I didn't poison it." she waved her hand dismissively and sipped her coffee. He picked a piece off the muffin and put it in his mouth chewing slowly. It was sweet but not too sweet, the berries were fresh.

"Fuckin good, innit?" he watched as a blush spread over her cheeks. Complimenting her was the only way he'd found to combat her wit, as if it was an off switch to the sarcasm that slipped past those lips of hers. He remembered the first time he had said something nice to her, that pretty mouth of hers snapped shut quickly and he took pride in the cherry color of her cheeks, she'd been sassing all day. No woman had ever talked back to him but when she spat back the same venom he'd spat at her and proved him wrong he thought Ollie would have a heart attack, it had been something so trivial, what type of rum went well in a cake. He told the stubborn woman to use the white but she refused and used the brown, that lead to arguing and her making one cake her way and one his before taking them both down to the distillery and having the men try a slice of each, of course they'd chosen hers and when he'd admitted defeat that same shade dusted her cheeks and not another word was said.

"I know." she grinned at him before sliding 2 pans out of the oven. "I'll finish up the baking and I'll head up to start on the count." she mumbled as she fanned herself, he nodded and started up the stairs to his office before the men arrived.

  Rilynn climbed the stairs to where Alfie spent most of his days, the fact that he hadn't been down to the distillery to berate the men meant that he was in a pleasant mood. She enjoyed the days when he wasn't so rude to everyone, counting the money and filing paperwork was easier, he wouldn't be ranting to her not that she minded it much anyway...she quit enjoyed the mans voice, his accent was charming and kept her out of her thoughts. At times there would be nothing but silence as she cleaned his office and filed away his work for him, she had caught him staring a few times and the thought of him watching her made her bite her lip, he'd look away quickly when he knew he'd been caught.       They'd been sitting in his office as she filled out the book that kept track of how much flour and such they went through, she sat on the couch beside his desk, pen scratching away as he talked about his dog. She recrossed her legs and toyed with the ring on her necklace and he grew silent. Feeling his eyes on her she peeked up through her lashes and caught him watching her, looking back down at the book she ran her fingers across the ring and over her exposed cleavage.

"Pervert." it was a whisper but the man set his own pen down and sat up straight. Closing the book in her lap she stood up and walked over to him perching herself on top of the desk in front of him, "For a busy man you spend a lot of time staring and not gettin any work done." his movements were quick as he grabbed the chain around her neck and pulled her face inches in front of his. Both watching each other through narrowed eyes.

"I'm a very fuckin busy man love. Tell me, where'd you get this ring. You married yeah?" his voice was low and accusing. She fisted the front of his shirt, knuckles white.

"What's it to you?" her breathing was slow and steady as she watched something flicker through his eyes.

"A girl like you? Hard to believe innit? A man would ave to be mental. You, walking round ere like you own the fuckin place. The men can't fuckin keep their eyes off ya. Sickening yeah?" his own fist tightening.

"Fuck off Alfie. I was with a man and he never made it back from the war. Why's it any of yer concern? Sometimes a woman needs the attention when she ain't had any in years." he stood and bent down to eye level with her.

"Fuck off? You, telling me, to fuck off! This is my bakery lo-" she jerked his shirt crashing her lips into his before fisting her other hand in his hair. His own hand moved to the back of her neck wrapping his fingers around it, letting go of the chain his other hand clutched tightly at her hip pulling her into him. She was sweet and her lips were soft against his, his grasp softened and he hiked her leg around his waist as she gasped softly against him. Pulling her head back he placed kisses down her neck before biting the base where it connected to her shoulder she squirmed her hips against his causing him to rock himself into her. Her hands raced to the buttons of his shirt hastily undoing them before running her hands over his chest and down his stomach before she unfastened the top of his pants as he pulled her hips roughly against him again grunting. She clutched at the waistband of his pants while he ran his hand up her curves squeezing her breast before unbuttoning the top of her dress.

"Mr. Solomons, Thomas Shelby is here for your meeting." Ollie had burst through the door and Alfie stood up straight glaring at the young man.

"Shut the fuckin door!" his voice boomed through the office and Rilynn rolled her eyes before buttoning the front of her dress and fixing her hair.

"Leave the poor man alone Alfie he's just doing his job." She slid off the desk and plopped back down on the couch watching as he fastened his pants and fixed his own shirt just as the Shelby boy walked in. As he sat in the chair across from Alfie his eyes fell on her looking slightly confused.

"Mr. Solomons, I was unaware you had company?" he glanced back to the bearded man curiously. Last time he'd been here there had been no woman in the building, he'd assumed the Jew only employed men so the blonde haired woman to his right was a bit of a surprise.

"Hired me cause he knew his cakes were shit." his eyes shot back to her as the man across from him grumbled at her words.

"Brought in more business mate. Best sweets I've had." her face lit up the same way Grace's had when he'd said something sweet to her.

"I'll leave ya'll to it then." she stood, adjusted her dress awkwardly and made her way to the door nodding at Ollie who held it open for her.

"Same time tomorrow pet?" Alfie looked over the brim of his glasses as her, Thomas turned slightly in his seat to look her over again.

"Of course. Mr. Shelby." she gave a small wave before disappearing into the hall.

  Steam filled the warm bathroom as music played softly in the background. Rilynn sighed contently as she sank further into the burning water of the tub enjoying the way it defrosted her cold feet and soothed her sore muscles. Nathan insisted on rearranging all the furniture in the house, painting the kitchen and cleaning everything from top to bottom while admitting that it made him anxious when things stayed one way for too long. It was a lot of work considering the main pieces he wanted to move were made out of the heaviest wood she'd ever had the displeasure of pushing across a house, he'd accidentally caused her to smash her hand between a chest and door frame cussing before profusely apologizing. The bruise on her hand had only taken a few minutes to discolor her tanned skin and she sighed when she wiggled her fingers making the bones inside ache as she placed it beside her under the water. Alfie would definitely be upset if she slowed down at work especially since things had picked up since the Shelby boys visit, the man hadn't even brought up the incident in the office.. hell he hadn't even stopped by the kitchen to grab his coffee. Would she seem desperate if she took him a muffing and some coffee to his office? Would he get angry she had stopped what she was doing to bother him? Maybe he'd kiss her again? She could always arrive early to make sure her morning duties were complete by the time he arrived.

  She admired herself in the mirror, blonde hair curled neatly down her back, red dress not fully buttoned allowing the slightest bit of cleavage to show, small spritz of perfume and she was ready to go. Tugging on her long coat and grabbing her bag she quickly shut the door behind her before hurrying to the bakery. As she walked through the streets the sun started to rise and the hair on her neck rose. The sound of shoes resounded behind her an she quickened her pace before turning to look , a man walked slowly with his head down, face shielded by the brim of his hat. Her heart started beating faster as the bakery came into view and before she could run someone grabbed the back of her arm almost causing her to slip and she was tugged roughly back. The man pulled her to face him and fisted the front of her coat bringing his scarred face only inches from hers.

"You're the girl from the bakery. Out a little early are we?" his other handed fell to the small of her back and her eyes narrowed.

"Mind your fucking business." she shoved against him. His hand rose and struck her quickly across the face

"Watch your tone little bird." his voice was harsh and he grabbed at her again pulling her close, she struggled before her own fist connected with the front of his throat knocking the wind from him, he dropped his hold on her and she bolted in the direction of the bakery as he sputtered and shouted behind her. Eye stinging and hand aching she jerked the door of the bakery open locking it once she was inside, her heart was beating out of her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. Ollie made his way to her, tossing the clipboard on the counter and grabbing a rag he crossed the room in three large strides, concern etched on his face.

"What the hell happened?" he pulled her over to a table and made her sit down before he dabbed at her face, eyebrows furrowed as he wiped at the blood that oozed from the cut under her eye and dribbled down from her nose.

"A man..followed me here... he fucking grabbed me...ain't ever been hit this fucking hard. Punched him in the throat." she winced and laughed nervously but Ollie saw the tears welling in her eyes. "I'm fine Ollie." she took the rag from him and stood moving past him and into the kitchen digging around for gauze. She huffed as she sat back at the table with Ollie, slid her coat off and folded the gauze just small enough to cover the cut and cross sticking the tape over the top.

"You sure you're okay?" he frowned, the bruise was already angry and large on her soft face, her eye had started to swell.

"I've gotten in fights before Ollie. I'm fine, he just spooked me is all. I'm gunna get started on the cakes." she patted his hand and stood, again disappearing into the kitchen.

 For the second time that day her heart was racing as she made her way up the stairs to Alfie's office with two mugs of coffee in hand. She knocked softly waiting for him to allow her in.

"Come in." the gruffness of his voice sent a chill through her and she slowly opened the door, entering she watched as his pen scratched harshly at the paper below.

"Morning Alfie." she crossed the room and set his cup on his desk. She watched as his shoulders softened and as he looked up at her his eyes widened. He was out of his chair in an instant, the force causing it to smack into the cabinet behind him and he rounded his desk in an angry haste, she instinctively took a step back and winced as he cupped her face softly moving it to take a better look at the ugly mark the encircled her eye.

"Who the fuck did this, love?" he narrowed his eyes at her.

"It's fine Alfie, just some asshole on the street. I hit him back." he glared at her and pulled the gauze from her face.

"I didn' ask if it was a fine, yeah? I asked who the fuck did it." he thumbed the cut and she grabbed at his hand with her bruised one. "What the fuck happened?" he grabbed her hand and looked it over angrily.

"That's from moving furniture with my brother. It was an accident. I'm fine. Like I told Ollie, I have been in fights before. Getting hit isn't going to kill me." she ducked out of Alfie's arm and plopped down on the couch watching as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"A proper fuckin woman doesn' fight love. Men do the fightin, yeah?" he grunted before making his way back to his chair and sitting. "I'll walk ya home." her heart was about to beat right out of her chest. He would walk her home? Maybe he could stay for dinner... Nate was going to be out with his friends anyways.

 Alfie helped the woman slip her coat on before he opened the door and gestured for her to exit first, her smile was sweet as she stepped out onto the dimly lit sidewalk and followed quickly behind her, cane in hand. They walked in silence for the ten minutes it took for them to arrive at her doorstep, and they stood in awkward silence as she fidgeted with the key to the lock before she pushed the door open.

"Would you be interested in staying for dinner? My brother is out for the night and I'd love the company." her face was almost melting at this point, she silently prayed he'd say yes.

"What's for dinner, love?" he let her grab his arm and pull him into the house. She tossed her coat onto the couch and waltzed into the kitchen, he followed suit instead placing his coat on the wrack and leaning his cane against the wall. He sat in one of the chairs at the small table in the kitchen watching as she hustled about grabbing two bowls she'd filled with stew from the large pot on the stove, spoons, bread, and cups of tea. Neatly placing everything on the table she took a seat across from him. They ate in quietly for a few minutes until Alfie cleared his throat.

"Good, innit? Like everything you make I suppose." he relished in the blush that rose to her cheeks. "I can see why that man was wanting to marry ya." he smirked as she choked on her tea, face red as wine.

"I- uh.. thanks. It's jus' somethin' I enjoy... done?" he nodded and she scooped both bowls from the table and placed them in the sink. "Would you like me to show you around? My brothers quite proud of the way we changed up the house." she waited for him to stand and follow her. As she led him through the house she pointed out pictures, explaining who was who, gave him the story of each piece of furniture her brother had told her, all the while he hmmd' and followed her about until they made it back to the living room. He watched as her fingers grazed over a shelf of vinyl records before she plucked one out from the case and placed it on the record player, a slow jazzy tune interrupted the silence. She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small metal case, she pulled out a cigarette and held it to her lips lighting it with a match before letting herself fall into the cushions of the couch before motioning for him to sit wherever he'd like.

 The man found himself lounging in a chair across from her talking for what seemed like hours, she'd changed out the record and was now softly swaying to the music laughing as he told her about an old mate of his from before the war. She was beautiful, unique, such a soft sweet woman, but the bruises on her face, slightly swollen eye and nonchalant attitude told him she wasn't a force to be reckoned with and if he honestly admitted it, he fancied her. The kiss in his office? She was rough and intense but her lips were so sweet, it made him want more.

"There ya go again, staring." she laughed lightly, her eyes dark as the fire behind her crackled and she glided across the room to stand in front of him, she leaned down until their eyes met, reaching her hand out to caress his beard. The smell of vanilla and coffee flooded his nose, she was intoxicating.

"Any man would have a hard time keepin' ther' eyes of ya, love" he rested his calloused hand on top of hers, "as well as ther' hands." a sly smile made it's way onto her face and she pushed him back into the chair before straddling him, his hands found their way to her hips, she cupped his face and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

"Well, I certainly hope you don't struggle to keep them off me for too long." her eyes were glossed over, cheeks flushed. She dipped back down to catch his lips in a longer kiss, one hand found it's way to his hair, the other to the top of his shoulder. The kiss deepened as his own hands ran up and down her sides before pulling her closer. He unbuttoned the front of her dress pushing the soft material off her shoulders, she stood and left it fall to the floor clad in stockings, underwear and bra. She held out her hand and he hauled himself up from the chair allowing her to lead him down the hall as he admired the black artwork that wound around her arm and onto her back, he'd only seen the bear on her forearm, it now continued as an assortment of paw prints, a wolf, turtle, mountains, sun and a silhouette of a man like figure playing a flute. Her shoulders and back were defined, the curve of her waist was soft yet sharp and her full hips dipped into the rounded shape of an upside down heart, very womanly and becoming of her considering he'd only seen her in her dresses. Leading him into her room she pulled him over to her large bed and crawled on before resting on her knees at the edge as he stood in front of her, she peered up at him slowly unbuttoning his white shirt kissing him as she slid it off him and tossed it to the side, her hands ran over his chest fingers tracing the outline of the ink below his collar bone. Unbuttoning his pants and letting them pool at his feet followed by his boxers he stepped out of them now fully nude he unhooked her bra and softly pushed her back onto the bed as he tossed it to the growing pile of clothes and joining her on the bed. He hooked his hands through the fabric of her underwear and slid them off her smooth legs before sitting back and admiring her bare before him, full chest rising and falling with her breathing.

"Fucking biblical.." her face flushed and he leaned over her warm body, his rough fingers raced across her skin and over her nipple making her sigh softly. His hand dipped down over her smooth stomach and traced her inner thigh before it made it's way to her core causing her to shift beneath him and gasp as his finger slid through the river that'd formed between her thighs. Usually he'd just take what he wanted with women but she wasn't just some whore from the pub, he wanted this to last, to soak it in and enjoy every soft breath. This woman was a sight to behold and every feathery touch of her fingers made his skin burn in their path. Her moans grew louder as he circled his thumb over her clit, these noises were for him, not some over exaggerated cries, it took every ounce of self control to not just bend her over the bed and go at her like some sort of wild beast. In under a second he found himself under the panting woman, his eyes wide, her strength had surprised him.

"I don't like being teased Alfie." she growled out the words before latching onto his neck and biting down before sucking at the tender skin making him grunt. She sat up adjusting herself so he rested between her legs before slowly sliding herself along his length smirking as he involuntarily bucked his hips. She ran her fingers over his chest through the dark patch of hair as she rubbed against him.She lifted herself and took him into her hand angling him towards her opening before sitting back down taking him in and gasping.

"Fuck, pet." he squeezed her hips. Slowly she rocked herself against him leaning back and placing her hands on his thighs, breasts heaving. Her pace quickened as she got louder, his thumb again tracing circles around her.

"God." her head lulled back as a long moan escaped her soft lips, she moved quickly against him before crying out and convulsing. Alfie moved her off him, he flipped her onto her stomach before grasping her hips and lifting them up and angling himself behind her as he pressed himself into her again and grunting. Her hands clutched at the material of her bedding trying to get a firm hold of something as he slammed into her. Her breathing was erratic and her moans were loud, music to his ears. As he neared his limit he pulled out of her and came on her back with a husky groan before collapsing next to her on his back, she stood shakily and grabbed a rag from a cabinet in her room an wiping off her back once again joining him in the bed. He yawned and turned onto his side pulling her into his chest.

"Fucking incredible love... yer somethin' else you are." he kissed her and she laughed.

"Same to you." she buried her face in his chest struggling to keep her eyes open.

 A loud crash woke her up from her blissful sleep, still groggy she sat up, eyes sliding over the naked man beside her who was sprawled out on his back breathing softly, she moved to slide off the bed causing her body to throb with a pleasant ache. Another crash and some cussing had her moving quickly to slide on her slip and robe, she opened her door quietly and marched down the hall to where she knew he brother would be rummaging through the kitchen.

"Nathan!" her harsh whisper made the man jump, dropping a bowl as he did causing it to clatter loudly on the floor.

"Lynn, ya scared the fuck outta me!" he clutched at his chest and stumbled drunkenly to pick up the bowl.

"You woke me up you dick. After all these years you'd think you'd be a little better at sneaking in after drinking." she grunted as she snatched the bowl off the floor and grabbing a cigarette from the counter.

"The fuck happened to yer face sis? Already knocking around the Camden girls?" he laughed loudly and she tried to hush him as she rolled her eyes.

"Fuckin hell." Alfie's grizzly like voice made the both of them jump. Nate's eyes widened as he caught site of the tall man clad in only a pair of boxers standing at the entrance of the kitchen, his eyes darted back to his sister.

"You sly fucking dog!" he let out another loud laugh and leaned against the counter amused at his sisters red face and crossed arms. "I didn't know you had a guest!"

"Yeah... Alfie this is my brother Nathan. Nathan this is Alfie." she rubbed her eyes tiredly and handed the bowl back to the drunk man, Alfie grunted and gave a small nod to the boy. "I'm going back to bed, lock up and be quiet." she grabbed Alfie's hand and led him back to the bedroom pushing him down on to the mattress and showering his face and neck with small lazy kisses as they dozed back off to sleep.

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