#alfie solomons one shots

[imaginesmai]

Alfie Solomons - Night adventures

I've been sick for week now with the worst stomach bug ever, and this has been on my mind for a few days! Welcome back Alfie to my blog!

Plot: Alfie doesn't come home from work and you worry something has happened, so you decided to go to the bakery.

Warning: Alfie's vocabulary is just saying fuck, really.

The streets were empty, too late for the common citizens and too early for the unfortunate first-shift workers. You had only found a beggar sleeping in a pile of boxes and two men trying to get home stumbling through the pavement. The silence, the darkness, would have been a good reason to turn back and worry about him under the covers, warm and safe. When a cat jumped from a window and landed on a car, you actually took a few steps back.

But Cyril stared at the menace until the animal hissed its way back to wherever it belonged.

Swallowed in one of Alfie’s long coats, with his hat covering your face, you finished the thirty minutes’ walk to the bakery. A faint light was coming from the top floor, and anyone would have thought bakers were starting their day early.

You knew it was your husband, Alfie, who hadn’t finished his yet. There was a man posted on the back entrance, the one you always used when you came to see him unexpected. It was closer to his office, it was more discreet, and besides, you knew Ollie. He would be one less problem for you that night.

When the boy saw you approach him, his whole back tensed. His hand made it to the holster on his hip before he recognized Cyril and your soft smile, once you were close enough. The soft street light let you see his panicked stare.

“What – Y/N, what the fuck are you doin’ here?” he quickly grabbed you by your arm and, checking both sides, pushed you inside the bakery. “It’s fuckin’ two in the mornin’!”

“I am aware of that, Ollie, since I also own a watch” you told him, taking down your hat.

“How did you get – does he know you’re here?” Ollie, who had been almost asleep leaning against the door, was now growing agitated. “You didn’ brin’ a car. You walked?”

“Me and Cyril, yeah”

The familiar warmth of the bakery felt good against your sore muscles. Not only you had half-jogged half-ran for thirty minutes, but the tension of the night and the worries for him had made the cold weather of November seep into your bones. You weren’t about to let Ollie notice how glad you were to be finally somewhere safe, because that would only prove a point you were trying to avoid.

“Y/N, it’s the middle of the night”

“So it is for my husband, who was supposed to be home with me. But that big head must have forgotten his own watch at home, given he’s still here”

“He’s not alone. Someone came to see him, and the meetin’… yeah, it was longer than wha’ he thought”

“Oi, wha’ that noise ‘bout, yeah?” a booming voice came from the floor above you, the door of his office banging open. “Didn’ I ask for silence?”

Alfie, in all his grumpy and broody glory, leaned against the railing and saw both of you. You weren’t surprised to see he was still wearing his working clothes, a small, stained pinny wrapped around his waist. His hair was sticking in different directions from being tugged at, and his face complemented his mood when he locked eyes with you.

Of course, Cyril tried to reach him and let his presence be known with loud barks. You passed his leash to Ollie and made your way up to your husband’s office. The metal stairs echoed under your shoes, and even if you kept your eyes on them, you felt his on you every second.

Far from being intimidated or angry, you felt your worries melting away. He usually came home before the sun set – had picked that tradition years ago once you were officially married and hadn’t missed a day. But it had been a rough week for the both of you, and when he hadn’t shown up, you had feared the worst. Patiently, you had waited and called his office. After not receiving an answer and not hearing the door, you had decided to check for yourself.

You weren’t naïve enough to go alone, but since there wasn’t anyone around to accompany you, Cyril had been your bodyguard for the night. Many things could have happened. Some of them you could imagine, some remember from past experiences because of his enemies’ retaliations. All of them were present in Alfie’s eyes as you reached the top of the stairs and met him face to face.

“Hello”

His nostrils flared and he pressed his lips in a tight line, but behind all of that there was just fear. You waited until he looked at every part of your body, from your soft smile to the hem of your skirt. One of your hands took his fist and didn’t let go until he held it. Alfie didn’t let his frown go as he raised it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

“Aren’ your suppos’ to be in bed” he growled against your hand.

“With you, but you didn’t come and I was worried” you explained, moving a step closer to him. “Called and no one answered. I didn’t know if… so I came to check. Brought Cyril with me”

“Stupid dog knows you ain’t suppos’ to leave” Alfie looked down at Cyril, and his eyes softened. “You alrigh’, yeah? Nothin’ happen?”

“I’m fine. Just tired. And worried about you”

“Come ‘ere”

You fell into his arms and the remains of worry and tension left your body. He smelt like rum, bread and sweat, like home. You closed your eyes when his hand found the back of your head and pressed it against his shoulder. Later, you would probably have a long conversation about what you had done. Not only it had been reckless, but if you had been right, there wasn’t much you could have done.

His life came with highs and downs, and you had been there enough to know them. That doesn’t meant you had grown used to the feeling of not knowing if he was fine or not, if he was alive. When you hugged him closer, your arms around his middle, you let him know that you were glad.

Someone opened the door and you saw Tommy Shelby walking out of Alfie’s office. You didn’t like that man, neither did he like you, but you both respected each other enough. Eventually, their relationship would go south, either because of his or Alfie’s biggest interest; and you just hoped it wouldn’t go too south.

Alfie noticed his stare and turned around. Instinctively, you were covered by his huge back, not seeing anything but the sweaty locks at the back of his neck.

“I believe we were in the middle of something”

“And I believe it’s time for my husband to come home” you said from behind Alfie, trying to move around. Effectively, Alfie moved with you.

“Your’ gonna ‘ave to excuse my wife, mate. She’s right, ain’t she” Alfie said. He gripped your hand again and made you stay in place.

When it came to you and the business, Alfie Solomons had always had it clear. You had walked into his life and turned everything around, and if needed to, he would leave it all behind if you asked to. You always came first, no matter what. He could come home late, share his matters with you and attend to political galas by your side, but if you asked something, he could not say no.

So he stared down at Tommy, who had been arguing for the past six hours. He had just showed up when he was about to close the bakery, and the bouquet of flowers he had bought you was now sad and forgotten in the storage room.

“Alfie” Tommy warned him. “We need to close the deal. I’m not about to risk half my percentage if you aren’t willing to take the risk”

“The only risk I’m takin’ tonig’ is this lovely lady back ‘ome”

“You don’t get to kick me out! I am –“

Before Tommy could grow any more aggressive, he had Alfie’s gun pressed tightly against his chin. The baker was a few inches shorter than him, but somehow, he stared down at Tommy, daring him to keep talking. The Shelby brother looked at you with your arms crossed, biting back his next words.

“Listen, now, cause I believe, this¸ right, this is my fuckin’ bakery. My fuckin’ rum. Money. Business. And that’s my fuckin’ wife your’ lookin’ at, so unless you wan’ to go ‘ome wit’ one less eye, Shelby, stop fuckin’ lookin’ at ‘er”

“Get your fucking hands – “

“Shut the fuck up! You, barkin’ orders, at me?! In my fuckin’ work?!” Alfie screamed into his face, making Tommy take a few steps back. When the man once more met your eyes with the same, disgusted face, Alfie struck him with the gun. “Are you fuckin’ deaf?! Don’ look at her or I’ll rip your eyes out with my nails!”

Cyril barked as if he supported his owner’s words. You looked down and noticed Ollie was no longer alone. There were three other men, that had appeared out of thin air, at the bottom of the stairs. All of them looked ready to climb it in less than a second.

Not too far away, Tommy’s men would be close. It wouldn’t be the first time Alfie got into trouble because of you, or the last. His protectiveness was founded, but sometimes he went a little overboard. Tommy had looked at you many times before, and had been threatened each time he had done it.

Some part of you wondered if he was a sucker for Alfie’s threats or was really looking for them to become true.

Before your night could escalate into bigger events, you moved behind Alfie and wrapped your hands around his raised arm. You had gone to the bakery to find out if Alfie was there, to retrieve him from his pile of work and hopefully catch a few hours of sleep by his side. After a long day of own work, you were tired and in need of some peace.

“Let’s just go home”

Under your touch, Alfie relaxed and dropped the gun. He kept his eyes locked on Tommy and the man was smart enough to clean the blood of his lip and turn back. You guessed his men should be on the main entrance, and you were really thankful you had chosen the back one.

You watched him disappear. Watched, in silence, as the group of men that had surrounded you went back to their corners where you couldn’t see them. Alfie didn’t bother retrieving anything from his office, just closed the door and let you lead the way down the stairs.

Once you were down, he nodded to Ollie and the boy disappeared, carrying Cyril with him.

“That was dangerous, pet” he said, his voice soft. There was a rough, scared edge you had grown to notice through the years. “You, yeah, you can’t jus’ come ‘ere. You need to tell me”

“I know, Alf. But I did call. And you always answer. I knew you had a meeting and since you didn’t come home, I didn’t know what to think” you told him, not giving him. “What if it was the other way? What if I didn’t come home one night? Wouldn’t you come looking for me too?”

“I’d burn down fuckin’ Camden, luv, you know tha’”

“Then you can’t get angry at me, not at this. I was careful, nothing happened”

It hadn’t happened, but it could. Not only Alfie’s enemies. Night in Camden Town held more dangers than mobsters or gangs, ones that didn’t know who you were married to and weren’t afraid of your husband. It was irresponsible, dangerous, and you knew better.

It wasn’t the time, though, and Alfie knew it.

“Alrigh’, pet, alrigh’. Jus’ try not to send me to an early gave, yeah?”

“You won’t get rid of me even in a grave, Alfie Solomons”

His laugh echoed in the empty bakery. Alfie wrapped his coat closer to your body, not saying anything about your choices of clothes, and put his hat back into your head. Always the gentleman he opened the door for you and dragged you closer to his side.

You didn’t take the path you had walked, but the opposite way. Ollie’s car was waiting for you at the other end of the street, Cyril probably a looming threat in the backseat ready to tackle Alfie as soon as he opened the door. Finally in peace, you wrapped your arm around his middle and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Love you” you whispered, looking up at him.

“Yeah, luv you too, don’ I”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated!

[runnning-outof-time]

The Joys of Being a Girl Dad | Tommy Shelby & Alfie Solomons (set in Girl Dad series)

Request: no - written for @justrainandcoffee ‘s 2 year ‘Alfieversary’

Pairing: Tommy Shelby (x Reader mentioned) & Alfie Solomons (x fem!OC & child OC mentioned)

Summary: Tommy stops by Margate to congratulate an old associate…adversary…friend.

Warnings: language (it’s Tommy and Alfie we’re talking about here), a slight bit of Cyril slander

A/N: I’m sorry it took me soooo long to write something for your celebration, Flor!! I guess I could call this a present for Rose’s 1 year anniversary too now, even though she’s not really in it. Thank you for sharing this beautiful au with us!!

A/N 2: I should also say that this story was supposed to be shorter, but I just kinda became invested and ran away with it…I hope you don’t mind. Also it’s been a bit since I’ve written for Alfie, so I hope he’s not too ooc here. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

“Who let you in?” the man who was sitting facing the open balcony door asked.

“How’d you know it was me?” the other man, who was standing at the entrance of the room, responded with his own question.

“Smelt the smoke and horse shit the second you stepped through that archway,” the first man mused, earning a snort from the second. “So I’ll ask again: who let you in?”

“Your wife…”

“Figures she did,” the first man cut the second off, muttering the comment under his breath.

“Your wife’s assistant let me in after she told me to get lost and slammed the door in my face,” the rest of the statement was shared, which made the first man finally spin in his seat to look back towards the archway.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, the two men staring at each other from several paces away…much like they had on that fated day all those months ago. “So why didn’t ya listen to her?” the first man finally broke the quiet, his quip conjoined with a look of query.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Alfie?” the second man asked, his eyebrows just slightly raised.

“It has,” the first man nodded, pursing his lips together for a moment before he continued, “yet it is still sooner than the day in which I thought I’d see Tommy Shelby again.”

Tommy Shelby just shook his head at the man’s remark, looking at the ground as he pursed his lips. It didn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Why’re you here then?” Alfie asked, still wanting to get to the bottom of the Birmingham man’s presence. However, he interjected again before said man even had the chance to speak: “you’ve come to finish me off, haven’t ya? Since ya couldn’t get it right the first time.”

“I’ve come with something,” Tommy answered, not even bothering to respond to Alfie’s second comment.

He then stepped towards the chair that the other man was sitting in, his hands still behind his back. Anyone else would have wondered if maybe they’d got it right…maybe he was actually there to finish his old adversary off. But Alfie wasn’t bothered in the slightest. No, he could tell from the manner in which Tommy approached him.

“I want to offer a congratulations…on your daughter,” Tommy finished his statement once he was standing in front of Alfie. Alfie looked him over with raised eyebrows, wondering just how a busy, business-minded man like him would have gotten such information. “(Y/N) told me the news. She got word of it from Rose,” Tommy gave the curious man some more information.

“That Rosie…” Alfie mused with a slight shake of his head, “I had a feelin’ that she hadn’t cut off all contact with you Shelbys.” He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his wife still keeping up a regular correspondence with the wife of the man who’d shot him.

(Y/N) and Rose had hit it off practically from the moment they met each other. Their friendship went beyond their husbands’ business partnership, and so when one disgruntled husband aimed a gun at the other and pulled the trigger, the two women tried hard not to let it come completely between them. There some time where radio silence prevailed…actually most out the time over the course of the last year was filled with radio silence, but it didn’t seem like a beat was missed when Rose contacted (Y/N) to tell her of the newest addition to the Solomons family.

Although Tommy was more hesitant to make amends, he couldn’t deny his wife’s request to deliver something to the newest Solomons.

“She wanted me to give you this,” Tommy then said, finally revealing the tan, stuffed rabbit that he’d brought with him. “To give to her,” he included, making his intentions more clear.

“I knew you weren’t givin’ me a stuffed rabbit,” Alfie quipped, snorting to himself before continuing, “or at least I hope you were plannin’ to.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing that, Alfie, no,” Tommy shook his head, dismissing the comment before it gained any ground. “The rabbit’s for your girl.”

Alfie took a moment to look over the other man again. He was still holding the rabbit out in front of him, waiting for Alfie to take it. Tommy wondered how long Alfie was going to make him stand like this.

Finally he took it. “She’ll like it,” Alfie stated, eyeing over the animal from close up now. He couldn’t deny that it felt soft in his hands. Allie would surely love it. “Thanks, Tommy.”

“My three couldn’t go to bed without it,” Tommy commented, a small smile gracing his lips as he thought of his three daughters and the love they had for that very stuffed rabbit.

A look of realization flashed across Alfie’s face as he heard Tommy’s comment. He brought his hand up to his jaw and ran it down his cheek slowly, stroking his beard as if he was in thought. “Have a seat,” he then said, gesturing to the chair that was set directly across from the one he was sitting in. He waited until the other man was seated before continuing, “three girls, huh?” he mused, sounding like he was talking more so to himself than anything.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded in response.

“A proper girl dad,” Alfie commented then.

“A what?” Tommy asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re a dad that’s got all girls, hence the fucking term girl dad…stick with it, Tommy,” the response came laden with derision.

Tommy raised his eyebrows at the other man’s comments, looking to the ground as he let the air cool off before he cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Yeah, a girl dad then.” He ran a hand along the back of his head as he spoke, wondering if he was even using the term correctly. Alfie didn’t comment, so he guessed that he didn’t seem to care none.

Instead the newer father continued on with the conversation. “Does it ever get hard?”

“What? Being a girl dad?” Tommy looked over at him again.

“No, not being able to hit your fucking mark when you’re fifteen fucking paces away,” Alfie retorted, “yes, being a girl dad,” he then exaggerated his words.

Tommy bit his tongue yet again. He wasn’t here to get into a fight with Alfie Solomons. The rabbit currently sitting in the other man’s lap was supposed to serve as a sort of olive branch.

“It does,” he finally answered after a moment’s pause.

“Give me some fuckin’ detail, mate,” Alfie asked.

“Fuckin’ hell, Alfie,” Tommy sighed under his breath, pressing the pads of his thumbs against his eyelids. He cleared his throat again as he thought of how he’d answer the question. “It’s been hard from the moment we brought Thea home. A different sort of hard than the ‘hard’ I’ve experienced prior. But it’s also been rewarding...with Thea, then Evie and now Juniper. I’ve learned more from them than from anything else I’ve ever done.”

Alfie took a moment to digest what his confidant had just shared with him. He truly didn’t expect Tommy Shelby to come out with such meaningful statements. I guess even the worst of men can change their tones, he thought to himself. “I didn’t know ya had it in ya, Tommy,” he commented, exuding a breath of a laugh as he shook his head.

Tommy kept his eyes locked on Alfie unsure of how to respond to his comment. He wondered if this was all some sort of game…if Alfie now wanted to toy with him; getting him to open up just to use the information against him.

“Thanks for sharing it though. I, uh…” Alfie paused, the sound of his voice cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and making him focus in again. “I’ll take all of the help I can get with this one. They say that raising a child takes a fucking village, or however that fucking saying goes.”

“There’s a great deal of joy in it too,” Tommy made sure to add, hoping to convey that having daughters, or kids at all for that matter, wasn’t only stressful. “I just know that I wouldn’t be able to do it without (Y/N) though.”

“That’s the same with me and my Rosie. A fuckin’ trooper, that woman is,” Alfie agreed in regards to his wife. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for Rose Solomons. He genuinely owed his life to her…and he was going to spend the rest of it showing her.

Silence fell between the two men then, both sitting comfortably in their thoughts of the women they had in their lives, and of how much their respective wives meant to them. The silence hung until the sound of small feet came pattering off of the hardwood in the hallway.

“Daddy! Daddy!” a shrill voice of a small girl soon accompanied the hurried footsteps. Said girl quickly appeared in the archway of Alfie office. Along with her frantic demeanor, Alfie was also able to see streaks of tears on her chreks.

“What’s wrong, Allie?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“Cyril chewed on my stuffie, daddy!” she exclaimed, hiccuping as she spoke through her tears. “It was my favorite stuffie!”

“Awe now love, I’m sorry about that,” Alfie began, opening his arms to the child as she came over to him. She quickly fell into them, and he wasted no time in hugging her tightly. “He’s just a brute that knows nothing of favorite stuffies,” he consoled her as she continued to sniffle her tears away.

Tommy watched on as the moment played out in front of him. He laughed to himself as hearing the reason behind the problem at hand took him back to the moments where Cyril had chewed his girls’ stuffies; there had to have been several instances during the dog’s stay at Arrow House.

“I don’t have a stuffie now, daddy,” Allie whimpered, finally lifting her head from her father’s chest. “Mum said it was too covered in slobber to be saved.”

“Well I’ve got just the fix for ya, Allie,” Alfie began, unwrapping one of his arms from her so that he could blindly search for the stuffed rabbit that Tommy had just handed him. He continued when he found the animal, “now I know it’s no bear, and I know that your favorite stuffies have all been bears, but this lovely little lass was just placed upon my lap moments before you came runnin’ in.”

Allie’s eyes immediately found the rabbit, and she had it in her tight embrace within an instant. “This stuffie is so soft! And she has a lovely bow!” she observed, now beaming with excitement. “Thank you so much, daddy!” she smiled at her father.

“Thanks have to go to that man,” Alfie told his daughter, nodding in Tommy’s direction. He bit his tounge and stopped the urge to add ‘the one who shot your father’ because even he knew this wasn’t the time for that. He didn’t want to bring that feud into Allie’s realm.

“What’s his name?” Allie asked in a loud whisper, her shy eyes finding Tommy’s.

“Tell ‘er your name, mate,” Alfie beckoned Tommy to share the information.

“It’s Tommy,” the other man followed suit, smiling as he spoke.

Allie observed him for a moment, surely trying to decide what she felt about him. A few beats of silence passed before a smile formed on her face. “Thank you, Mr. Tommy,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re welcome, Allie,” Tommy nodded, his smile widening.

“Dad you have to yell at Cyril now,” Allie turned back to her dad, a deep frown present on her face.

“I’ll make sure he knows what he’s done,” Alfie assured her, “go play, love.”

With one last smile, Allie hopped off of her father’s lap and exited the room almost as quick as she entered it.

“That fuckin’ dog…” Alfie trailed off, shaking his head, “why’d you give him back?”

“You wanted him back, Alfie,” Tommy answered in a monotone voice.

“You may be right,” Alfie conceded, cracking a smile as he thought about the dog.

“Your daughter’s lovely,” Tommy commented.

“She is, ain’t she?” Alfie answered, “light of my fuckin’ life, that girl…both her and her mum.”

Tommy nodded, his mind going to his wife and daughters. There was no doubt that he shared the same sentiment towards his girls.

Oh, the joys of being a girl dad…even if — or rather when, because it’ll surely happen again — Tommy and Alfie were at odds with each other, they’ll always have the shared title as something they can both relate to.

MASTERLIST

The Story of Rose and Alfie

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @jomarch-wannabe @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

[corrupte3d-mindz]

About Me:

I’m a 16 year old who loves writing about my favorite characters that live in my head rent free. I’m currently ending my sophomore year and moving to junior year; I found out that I’ll be 17 as a senior which is kinda weird. I speak English as a first language but I have a bit of dyslexia so I tend to add a word that didn’t need to be there or I forgot a word. If you notice it and I haven’t just hit me up and I’ll fix it along with that kind gesture I’ll also ask for you to give me a prompt/idea that you may want me to write, I love hearing other’s ideas and helping them to put it to paper. I tend to be very step by step writer because I like to give a very good visual representation of what’s going down but I tend to do it badly but it’s in the process of becoming more refined and better.

MASTERLIST BELOW

Warnings:

Some of these series have very sensitive topics like rape, drug abuse, gore, and death. If you do not like those topics then please stay away from them, I don’t want to deal with complaining. Half of my stuff will be dark, depraved, and depressing. Reading this and choosing to go further is all up to you. If you need to step away from one of my posts because you are struggling to make it through then drop it entirely, it will only get worse from there.

Any dark and depraved depictions of certain characters who are not like that normally will most likely happen in my blog , but for the ones that do have it, it’ll be worse. The ones that don’t normally have it I do not see them in that light. I just write them in that light.

For the depraved people like myself, you may continue on and please enjoy my work that I love to do. Thank you and have a wonderful day/night.

Codes:

𑁍 — Fluff

𖥻 — Humor

𖤐 — Angst

☹︎ — Dark

♧ — Smut

♔ — Headcanons

〇 — One-Shots

⧉ — Potential Series

꩜ — Series

Color Codes:

Red: Extreme non-con elements or just extremely dark themes

Orange: Some dark elements mentioned or conveyed.

Blue: Barely any dark themes at all; probably just the mention of alcohol, drugs, or blood. It’s the bare fucking bones.

Pink: Either it’s mainly smut or a shitty plot with smut..

Green: Nothing bad at all, it’s just fluff and kind things happening around here.

White: Either I haven’t written it yet, in the process or just have no clue what I want to put it under as yet.

Who I write for:

Celebrities

Cillian Murphy

Series:

Cost of Fame Part 2 ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-shots:

On My Dime 〇,𑁍

Lavish Love ���,♧,𑁍

My fucking baby! 〇,𑁍

Red Carpet Rush 〇,♧,𑁍

Ageless Beauty 〇,♧,𖥻,𑁍

Falling on deaf ears 〇,𑁍

BTS of Peaky Blinders 〇,𑁍

Lights, Camera, Cillian 〇,𑁍

Behind Closed Doors 〇,☹︎,𖤐,♧

Headcanons:

Tom Hardy

Series:

One-shots:

Headcanons:

Venom

Eddie Brock

Serious:

One-shots:

Headcanons:

Peaky Blinders

Thomas Shelby

Series:

Wild & Free ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

Bloodlines ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

Nocturnal Allies ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

A Deal with the Devil ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

His Angel 〇,𑁍

Silent Vows 〇,𑁍,♧

Blood Brothers 〇,☹︎,𖤐

Sleepless Nights 〇,𑁍

Burning Embers 〇,𖤐,𑁍

Little White Lies 〇,𖤐

Needle & Thread 〇,⧉,𑁍

Forever a Shelby 〇,𑁍,𖥻

The Ghost of You 〇,𖤐,𑁍

Uncharted Territory ⧉,𑁍

Veil of Deception 〇,𑁍,♧

Shadows of Ambition

Tangled Memories

Headcanons:

John Shelby

Series:

The Crimson Crown ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-Shots:

Blood and Whiskey

Headcanons:

Finn Shelby

Series:

One-Shots:

To The Bone 〇

Headcanons:

Micheal Gray

Series:

One-Shots:

The Unseen Enemy 〇

Blood and Business 〇

The Cost of Loyalty 〇

Whiskey and Secrets 〇

Whispers in the Night 〇

Gray Days & Dark Nights 〇

Headcanons:

Luka Changretta

Series:

Sins in the Shadows ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-shots:

Silent Threat 〇,𖤐,♧

Headcanons:

Alfie Solomons

Series:

Old Wounds ꩜,♧,𖤐,𑁍

One-Shots:

The Last Toast ⧉,𖤐,♧,𑁍

A King Among Men 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

A Pint and a Promise 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Headcanons:

Sir Oswald Mosley

Series:

The Enemy Within ꩜,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Daddy’s Girl 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Pillow Princess 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Echoes in the Alley ⧉,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Tempting the Tyrant ⧉,𖤐,♧,☹︎,𑁍

Headcanons:

The Dark Knight Trilogy or The Batman Trilogy

Dr. Jonathan Crane

Series:

Nightmare in Gotham ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

In Your Shadow part 2 ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

A Quiet Place Part ||

Emmett Abbott

Series:

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

Watching the Detectives

Neil Lewis

Series:

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

Inception

Robert Fischer

Series:

The Siren Files 2 ꩜,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Hell on Wheels 〇,𖥻,𑁍

Actually Burning 〇,𖥻,𑁍

The Illusion of Control 〇,𖤐,♧,𑁍

Headcanons:

Red Eye

Jackson Rippner

Series:

Unmasked ꩜,☹︎,𖤐,♧,𑁍

One-Shots:

Headcanons:

This master-list will be updated once I have a couple of stories out to the public then this message will disappear.

[mlmxreader]

Blistered and Broken | Alfie Solomons x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Can I request the prompt "Stop fucking swearing" With Alfie please? Thank you! ❞

: ̗̀➛ Why the fuck would anyone want to be in the trenches by choice?

: ̗̀➛ swearing, smoking, use of "fag" as a slang term for cigarette, graphic depictions of war & injury, eye trauma, facial trauma, toxic gas, bombing.

↳ if you can, please consider giving to Karim & his family so that they may have a better life and future outside of the ongoing genocide; so far, they have raised $3895 of their $40,000 goal!

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The grass had died, leaving behind wiry strands of brown and black wisps that scattered the ground; the shaking and quaking of the ground had been nonstop since arrival, and thanks to the Belgian troops now joining, conditions were even more cramped. Even less food, less water, less cigarettes.

Pestilence was as common a friend as the lingering smell of pineapple and pepper and the constant sound of explosions, gunfire and screaming.

It was easy to get desensitised to the surroundings when they were constant; no way to go home, to go back to civilian life. No. No, that was all that was left anymore - shit, piss, blood, vomit, pus and mud.

The sight of dead men's faces buried beneath the watery soil. The crunch of their faces during charges.

The thick, clinging scent of blood to clothes of medics - could smell them coming miles away.

The sound of lice being fried in pans and tea being brewed in crude ways. The splash of piss against the machine guns. The snap of condoms over rifles when it rained.

Why the fuck would anyone want to be there?

What was so fucking glorious about it?

What fucking victory was there?

How much blood would be spilled until kings were content?

How many more lives would have to be lost?

All over a fucking pissing contest. A bunch of fucking spoiled brats who wanted nothing more than to sacrifice the poor for their own sake. Just to be proven right.

The sound of a cough brought Alfie's attention to you; lying in his crooked and crude bed, eyes burned and throat still sore from the latest gas attack. He had not left your side since, and although the medics saw you as often as they could, it wasn't enough - too many were dying out there for them to properly look after you.

So Alfie did.

As Captain, he was expected to stay behind anyway, so he did; he stayed and did what he could for you.

A raspy breath made him grasp your hand tightly, letting you know that he was still at your side.

"Alf... Alf..." you gasped out. "Need... need a... a fag... please..."

He nodded and searched his pockets, finding the almost broken and snapped packet in his breast pocket; he took two out, lit them, and handed one to you with as much haste as he possibly could.

You were immediately grateful, wheezing and coughing as you took a long and considerate drag. Snot dribbling down your burned nose and the blistered skin of your top lip.

"How are you feelin', matey?" He asked softly, or at least, as softly as he could. "Any better?"

You coughed, yellowish green foam spitting from your mouth and splattering onto the blanket at your thighs. "Oh, fuck no... everything... everything inside hurts.. hurts so fucking much, Alf..."

"Easy, boy-o," Alfie scoffed. "Stop fucking swearing, ain't no need for that shit... is it your eyes again? Do I have to fuckin' rinse 'em out again?"

You shook your head weakly. "Everything inside hurts..."

He frowned, swallowing thickly as he flicked the ash aside; he was kind of glad of it, all honesty.

At least you didn't have to see the carnage beyond the wooden and dirt walls; the bodies and their squashed bones.

The way other soldiers were eaten alive at night.

The medics had taken your bandages off two days ago, said that you would be alright by the end of the week as long as Alfie kept the wounds clean.

But the blisters kept popping, and thick, yellow pus kept dribbling out; it was warm, hot compared to the stale air. It stuck to the cloths that Alfie used to clean it up, clinging to the fabric with gooey tendrils. The smell of it pungent and always making Alfie gag a bit.

But he did it for you, not for himself.

You were the only man he ever cared about, the only person in the world who actually understood him, and although he had to hide it through terms of endearment that sounded like friendship, you both knew it was something different.

It was something that had to remain unspoken, for both your sake and his.

Something that could never be uttered, not even when he was kissing your forehead at night and falling asleep in the rickety chair by the bed.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "We'll get some rum down you, that'll make it better."

You nodded in agreement, harsh and quick breaths echoing from the back of your throat. "Alf..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," you groaned out.

"Ain't your fault," he said quietly, patting your hand. "You saved a life by riskin' your own - I might not fuckin' agree with it, but... you did the good thing. You're a good man, and you heard the medics - you'll be alright soon enough... once all them blisters heal up, you'll be back on... back on No Man's Land in no time, eh?"

You swallowed thickly, the sensation making you want to vomit. "We... we both know... that... that you... you're the best of us..."

"I wouldn't fuckin' risk my life for a stranger," he pointed out. "You did. And now, instead of bein' swallowed by the mud, that cunt is in a field hospital gettin' seen to. You fuckin' saved his life and... shit. It should be me who's sorry, you know that."

"Field hospital..." you scoffed, the syllables becoming more jumbled the lower the volume got and the more the rattling of your lungs grew louder. "Can't go... too many... jerry shells..."

"Unfortunately," he murmured. "But you got me."

"Doctor fucking Solomons."

He smiled, nodding as he let out a shaky breath. "Captain Doctor Fucking Solomons to you, matey."

"Alf?" You waited for him to hum before you finished, "you know I love you to bits, don't you?"

"I know," he said quietly, sparing a look over his shoulder just to make sure. "It's mutual, you know that... finish your fag and get some rest, yeah? I ain't going anywhere anyway."

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Fathers & Family Master Post! All the family stories I have are below! (Peaky Blinders & Bullet Train)

Peaky Blinders

Grab an End - Thomas Shelby & Teen Ruby Shelby

Ruby sneaks off to a party and needs Tommy’s help - Hurt / Comfort / Father daughter feels / coming of age

Moving Out - Thomas Shelby & Little Ruby Shelby

Little Ruby has had enough of Tommy’s BS - Hurt / Comfort - father-daughter feels / fix it/ happy ending

Sick - Thomas Shelby & Little Ruby Shelby

Ruby is on death's door, Tommy and family try to nurse her back to health

Da - Thomas Shelby & Little Teddy Shelby

The Kid’s first words & Tommy’s reaction - Super Fluff

We Are Not Good Men - Thomas Shelby & Adopted Teen Daughter Pt.2

 Reader is adopted when Tommy discovers that she had been working for him as a maid at 15 years old. Extreme fluff & hurt comfort. Hugs. Nondescriptive mentions of assault and beatings

A Vacation - Thomas Shelby X Reader & Family

Tommy needs to step up as a father, when his wife is pregnant again and put on bedrest a vacation is in order. Tommy takes them to stay in Cornwall and the reader watches everyone change for the better.

A Day at the Fair - Shelby boys & Finn

The boys promise him a day at the fair and it doesn’t go as planned - featuring lots of Tommy and Lizzy, plus Arthur and John

London Calling - Shelby Sister Reader

 (Shelby sister) has had enough of her family’s nonsense, she escapes to do things on her own. Only to find out years later the cause of her pain wasn’t what she thought it was.

First Hit - Finn Shelby Comming of Age

An outing takes an unexpected turn and Finn thinks its him time to step up. Featuring lots of kid Finn, buckets of innocence, lots of Tommy, and Lizzy to the rescue.

A Monster Under the Bed - Thomas X Reader & Daughter

Tommy helps a girl with an unexpected request that leads his heart somewhere it hasn’t been before

Closing Walls & Ticking Clocks - Thomas X Lizzie & Adopted Reader

who knew verbally assaulting a nun would win you the perfect family - Series

Growing Pains - Shelby Family & Reader Sister

Reader is the youngest of the Shelby clan and is often excluded due to her softer nature. When she gets hurt at the pub one day it quickly becomes everyone’s problem to fix it and make things right

Dad? - Tommy Shelby & Little Baby Sister

The last Shelby is born just before the war, when Tommy comes back caring for her is one of the only things he finds peace in.

Red - Thomas Shelby X Pregnant Reader

Redhead Reader finds out she’s pregnant with Tommy’s babe. This follows their wonders about what their child will be like.

Betrayal - Thomas Shelby & Reader Daughter

Reader is Tommy’s daughter. When she gets involved with a boy from a rival family, she knows that there is a lot on the line. Unfortunately for her, things don’t end well, causing Tommy to recall what it was like being in love with someone who stabs you in the back

Teddy Bear - Alfie & Little Girl from the Streets - Pt. 2

The reader gets lost wandering the streets, when she sees what she assumes is a bakery she sneaks in hoping to steal some scraps…. She gets caught by Alfie, initially terrified of his big size and loud voice she realizes he’s not so bad after all.

Allergies - Tommy Shelby X Reader Daughter

Thomas meets an unspeakable setback as he welcomes his new daughter into the world

Nonsense - Reader & Little Charlie Shelby

No one can understand what’s bothering little Charlie - no one except the reader

American Girl - Shelby Family & Sister Reader

The reader finds out more about her distant family after her Grandparents pass.

Her Father's Daughter - Thomas Shelby & Little Ruby Shelby

Follow up head cannons about how much Ruby adores her father.

Dresses - Thomas Shelby & Reader Daughter

While the ladies of the Shelby family are on vacation you realize you still need to find a ballgown for the big dance. Thankfully your dad is available.

Not a Child Anymore - Thomas Shelby & Reader Daughter

Tommy struggles with his daughter as she starts exploring the world of dating - After falling for Isaiah he catches them and all hell breaks loose

Me, Adopted? - Thomas Shelby & Reader Son

Charlie & Ruby play a prank on their little brother and tell him he's adopted.

I don't want to grow up - Tommy's daughter finds herself in an uncomfortable position while all the women are out of town - father-daughter comfort fic

Bullet Train

Values - Tangerine X Reader - Series

Tangerine can't help himself and decides to mess around while on the job - resulting in a very pregnant reader trying to track him down.

Adopt a Fruit - Tangerine & Lemon & Small reader child

A young girl falls into the hands of our two favorite assassins

[novashelby]

Dance with Me, Mr. Solomons

Pairing: Alfie x Evelyn (Daughter!Shelby)

Warning: Mention of war-slight angst, but overall safe for work. Swearing

Word Count: 1,872

Summary: It is Evie's 30th birthday and all she asks is for some human comfort. Stuck in London with no family, there is only one person she can go to.

Evelyn was a child. No, of course not physically. In fact, right at midnight she was due to celebrate her 30th birthday. With whom? Certainly she couldn’t stand to celebrate alone or with a bunch of girls who clearly thought highly of themselves and lowly of her. Evelyn was a child because she had still craved those intimate moments of childhood. Like celebrating her birthday over a piece of cake surrounded by those who paid attention to her. 

Just before sunset, she wrapped a cake she baked herself in a box. Though not good at many things, Evelyn was decent at baking. Whatever decent meant, but it was edible, sweet, and tolerable. That was the word Alfie would use to describe the texture. Cradled in her arms like a baby, she took the cake through the dark London streets. At sunset, when the darkness took over the little light they had, people were expected to shut down. Traversing through the streets with a chocolate cake, Evelyn walked quickly and close to the buildings. She utilized every alley she could, wiggling her way through the city. 

Admittedly, she hated London, but she supposed she hated it for the same reasons she hated Boston, Paris or Liverpool. Perhaps even Birmingham in some ways. There were remnants of her childhood. Even if she never lived in London before the age of seventeen, there were dark, dingy things that felt far too familiar. She knew there were children and homeless unwed mothers taking home up in those alleys with their palms open, but Evelyn didn’t look. Selfish, and in no way would she deny it, either. For her own sanity and peace, she was selfish.  

It took her forty-five minutes to get to where she needed to get. Expectedly, the gentleman on the other side of the door was not happy about her appearance. He, unlike her, was using the times to hunker down and enjoy solitude in his aging life. She climbed down a set of cement stairs, balancing herself with one hand on a black, wobbly iron railing. There was a brass door knocker in the shape of a lion. Sort of. She knocked a few times with it before knocking harder with her fist. 

A boy…a gentleman. God, she was so used to using some type of language over the years. He was a gentleman as she was a lady. About her age, traditionally Orthodox. Opening the door, he eyed her suspiciously. He didn’t have to say anything. Evelyn knew her appearance was out of the ordinary to him. She smiled, “Shelby, Evelyn Shelby…I’m here to see Mr. Solomons.” Her last name was like a key, really. He allowed her in and with respectable space between them, he led her to another door. Inside was a mere closet. The man has gone mad, she thought. A large distillery, a large home, underground bunkers…this man could have stayed anywhere. Yet, he decided to hunker himself in a mere dusty broom closet. 

The young lad knocked and opened the door at the single sound of a grunt. Hardly even a word! Behind it, he sat like a poor fella. Before the lad could speak, Evelyn pushed her way in, holding out a box. She had even decorated it with a bow. Of course it was only left over ribbon from a shop. Had some soot marks and was fraying a tad, but it was perfect for the occasion. But before Evelyn could say anything, Alfie dropped his head, running his ring clad fingers through his hair. She couldn’t quite make out what he was saying under his breath, but it was definitely something along the lines of fuck and why. “I told them to stop letting you Shelbys in.”

Perplexed, Evelyn frowned slightly, narrowing her eyes. Putting the box down on his makeshift table desk, she commented, “it’s my birthday-”

“And?” What a bloody fucking grouch, she thought. Wonder why he lived alone in a broom closet. Taken aback, she put her hands protectively on the box. If he wasn’t going to be kind, he wouldn’t be allowed to have cake, she decided. Especially one she made herself. His eyes traveled to the lopsided box. “Then what fucking is it then?”

Pouting, she said, “cake. It’s my birthday, weren’t you listening?” When he didn’t respond, she continued, “I’ve got no one to celebrate with and I’m turning thirty.” With his ringed pinky, Alfie lifted the cover the best he could with the ribbon still on. The poor cake looked as if it was run over and then thrown from a cliff. He could lie, he thought. I’m kosher. She would not have known the difference.

“Your father trying to, y’know,” Alfie asked, running his index finger over the line of his neck letting out a sound. She was mortified that he’d think so lowly of her. The same girl-sorry, woman, who saves house flies! 

Huffing, she sat down. “For fucks sake, Mr. Solomons, you’ve gotten paranoid in your old age. It’s cake!” She ripped the bow off of it and flung it behind her. In her purse were two forks. One for him and one for her, no plates. “See?” Showing him the lopsided cake that was almost one with the box. Digging her fork in she took a large helping, shoving it in her mouth lacking any manners. He was quite appalled, mouth agape by her manners. “What?” she asked, mouth stuffed. With her thumb, she cleaned up the corner of her lips and sucked off the chocolate.

“My fuckin’ God,” he whispered. “Didn’t even get the bloody fuckin’ song out!”

“Oh!” Her eyes lit up like a tree at Christmas. “You want to sing me happy birthday!? Oh, Mr. Solomons! I’d love to hear you sing in Jewish-”

“Jewish?” he questioned. She couldn’t be Tommy Shelby’s daughter. The girl hardly had two brain cells to rub together. “No, I fuckin’ can’t sing in Jewish.” He took the fork and stabbed around the area she wasn’t eating before putting some to his nose. Sniff sniff. Then he stuck out his tongue, just gently licking it. Smelled alright, tasted alright. He shoved it in his mouth, chewing before the texture hit. “Tolerable,” he complemented. 

“I’ll accept it,” she said. 

In silence, they messed around with the cake, pushing it around with the forks. Every so often, they’d take a small bite. It wasn’t so bad, he thought, realizing it had been quite some time since he had chocolate. She must have paid quite a bit for it. “Whiskey?” he offered randomly, breaking the silent air between them.

“You shouldn’t be drinking, Mr. Solomon,” she said. 

“So you brought cake,” he noted, motioning to it. “And stress?”

Cracking a smile, she shook her head, “no whiskey for me. I don’t drink.” He grabbed the glass bottle and poured himself a heavy hand. Randomly, she commented, “I turn thirty at midnight…I guess. I don’t know.” Alfie gave her a look. Explaining, she forced a smile, “I don’t know my actual birthday.” 

He pitied the girl, really, but there wasn’t much to say. She was, essentially, turning thirty. “It’s just a day until we die.” Stuck in London without family. Perhaps he was doing the right thing despite being a bit hesitant. Then he started to question if Tommy Shelby would do the same? Probably not, that fucker. But it made him happy to have a point higher than him on the morality scale. “Fucking prick,” he said, cheering to that as he downed his brown liquor.

“I’m sorry?” she questioned, not quite hearing him.

“What would you be doing on your birthday if we weren’t, you know, getting fucked by Germans?” He swirled his finger in the air, looking up. 

She thought for a moment, before getting up. “Dance with me!” She extended her arm. “Please? Oh, Mr. Solomons, please have a dance with me! I beg of you!”

“Oh, fuckin’ ‘ell,” he grumbled. There was no music. There wasn’t even a sound. What had she wanted to dance to? The tiny speck of wind whistles? “I don’t dance. We can’t dance-”

“We’ll do ghost hands,” she suggested. “Meaning I won’t touch you and you won’t touch me-”

“That’s stupid,” he commented, but got up. The room being so tiny, his wooden chair hit the bookcase behind him, things toppling over. It was his only entertainment. Well, and temporarily, her. “Ghost arms? Pftt.” 

“Please, Mr. Solomons?” All she wanted was human intimacy. Not in the slightest she meant sexually or even romantically, just connection. She wanted to feel real again. Life. She wanted to feel life. And right in that moment of time, no one was living. There was no life because there was no music or dance or art. Just darkness and war. He joined her around the desk in that small space and hovered his hands over her hips and she did so above his shoulders. It was stupid, really. Pathetic, even. But she wanted to respect his culture. Which he appreciated. It was more than her father ever did. 

But dancing as such was silly. And he felt that God would probably take more of an issue with him not comforting, what he considered a youngin, lost without her family. “Come here,” he whispered, and he didn’t have to ask twice as she rested her body against his. He smelled of dust and whiskey with a hint of woody cologne. Both of them starved of human affection, for one night, relied on one another. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. With her arms tightly wrapped around him, she rocked back and forth. “Why don’t you go home?” he asked, gently, his hand soothingly rubbing up and down her back. 

“I sometimes feel home is worse,” she whispered, and he accepted that. He didn’t argue, he didn’t protest. He left all moments of sarcasm and humor aside, for once. All in the sacrifice of her. Together, they danced to no music, but it was beautiful. Out of all the eeriness, for once it was beautiful. “Thank you, Mr. Solomons.” He answered with a low hum, resting his chin on her head. Never wanting to admit it to anyone, but himself, but Alfie could fall asleep like that. For the first time in a few days, he could truly sleep. 

“You can’t go home tonight at this hour,” he settled. “It’s unsafe-”

“I know,” she admitted, pulling away just enough to look at him. “I can sleep here with you?” There was a mat on the floor made for one person. They both looked at it together and she slowly went to the floor, laying down on it. His blanket and pillow were just as musty as everything else, but it felt warm. She patted the edge and he joined her, taking over the mat. She laid over him, resting her head against his chest, listening to his heart.

“Thank you for having a fuckin’ birthday,” he said, twirling his fingers in her curls.  “You ruined the moment with your language,” she chuckled, letting out a long yawn. “We’ll sleep into the light and never tell my father of a single thing.” Never, he agreed.

[wandawiccan60]

I’m Sorry

An Alfie Solomons X Freya(FemOC)One-Shot

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

Summary: ”I'm Sorry." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The old stone bridge… she must have gone there…

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

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

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

14 Years Ago: Somewhere In Camden Town

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyebrows raised in confusion. 

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

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

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

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

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

"Fre-ya." She said with a smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Um," 

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

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

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

"Freya!" A man's voice shouted.

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

"Tata." She said with a smile. 

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

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

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

Then it clicked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once again, he was confused. 

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

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

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

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

"Jutro?" She asked in a whisper. 

Then it hit him. 

"Tomorrow!" He blurted out, finally understanding. 

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

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

"Will meet you," He pointed at her,

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

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

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

Some Time Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Freya, you're-" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Freya," 

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

"Yes?" She asks curiously. 

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

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

"Is good?" She hesitantly asked him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes." She answered once his words ceased. 

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

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

1914: World War I

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

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

"What is it?" She hesitantly asked. 

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

"It's a letter. I've been…" 

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

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

Silence lingered between them as they looked at each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes." She answered in a whisper. 

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

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

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

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

"Anything." She answered quickly. 

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

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

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

"Alfie!" She called out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Freya, 

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

I love you, 

-Alfie 

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

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

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

How time flies so fast…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alfie nods immediately. "I know, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

"Freya," 

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

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

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

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

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

“Alife, I…” 

He patiently waited for her to say what she needed, 

“I’ve never had sex.” 

His face grew pink at her confession. 

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

“I want to.” She quickly assured him. 

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

“Neither have I.” He confessed. 

“What?” She asked softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh!” She moaned out. 

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

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

“You’re sure?” He hesitantly asked.

“Very sure. I need you.” 

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

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

“Alfie…” 

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

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

“More.” She breathlessly answered. 

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” She answered. 

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

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

“No.” She quickly answered. 

“Make me yours.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fill me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.” 

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

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

She smiled at his words as he kissed her head. 

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

Epilogue: 5 years Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thedevilshardy]

Baby come close

Two mini stories for sunday fantasies | ❗smut |

Alfie Solomons

He watches you. He watches you so intense that it tickles in your nerves, that you can feel it in your bones. It makes you blush, doesn't it? His furious eyes on your face, and although you know you're in trouble now - it fucking makes you hot. It's his eyes, his intense eyes that follow every movement of your body. His sleeves are rolled up, a little detail that makes you dripping wet. You know he knows, and you get all shaky when he comes close to you.

"You've been a very, very bad girl, honey." His gaze gets more intense, his eyes are glowing. "You know what there is for bad behaviour?" His voice is rough, so damn rough, and it vibrates on your skin like burning lust. You breathe out, shaky.

"You'll punish me, don't you?", you whisper, and suddenly his hands are on your ass, grabbing a handful of the round tight flesh, and he hums angry when he gives you a small hit with the flat of his hand. He's hot, you can feel it in your body, and the way he presses his body close to you makes you all dizzy.

"Yeah, I will." More of those movements that hit your ass, and sinful hands and fingers that reach under your skirt, searching for the ohsosweet folds of yours...

Leo Demidov

In and out, in and out, oh so fucking wet.

It's all you feel, the soft and wet sounds of his dick inside you, while your hands claw into the strong joints of his shoulders. His rhythm doesn't stop, and you can't do a thing but moan. It's like a command, and you can feel how Leo intensifies the movement of his hips. He pushes them forward, right into your throbbing middle, deep into your pussy. You long for air, try to hold onto him. But he just goes further, thrusting and fucking you right to the brink of an intense orgasm.

"Leo, I-"

He bites into your lower lip, pulls you close to him, his cock in and out and ohsofuckingdeep. His thrusts don't stop, and his strong broad hands claw into the damp sheets.

"Come, Baby. Come." Magic, his words are always magic, and you try to hold onto something, his shoulders or his back - but you can't, your legs start to shake so hard it almost pushes you over the edge. But still he keeps fucking you, and it's only a few thrusts until you scream, until Leo pushes his hand against the headboard to fuck you right through this orgasm...

[autumnleopard]

I'm bored at work, so have a little snippet from my Tommy/Alfie fic.

"Because that's what happened, innit?" Alfie smirked. "You woke up, naked in bed next to another man, and your traumatised Catholic mind short-circuited and you freaked out." Tommy glared at him, mildly. "First of all, don't fucking insult me like that." Alfie raised an eyebrow. "What did I say?" "You called me Catholic. Fuck off with that shit." Alfie snorted, shaking his head amused.

You don't understand how irrationally proud I am of this exchange. It's ridiculous.

[potter-solomons]

The Spice of Alfie pt. 5 1/2:

"I've been gone too long pet, I know. I've almost lost your sound, your smell, your taste. Seeing you laying there, yeah, wrapped up in my old coat. Sighing in your sleep. Rippin' me heart apart and lacing it back together at the same time, love. That's it, wake up baby girl, it's time for your big man to suck the life right out of that cunt then fuck right back into you. Mhm, got my smell all over you. Mixed with the sweet scent coming from your pussy. Dreamin' about me, were ya? What'd you miss more, hm? Me or this big cock? Don't matter none, does it? Both'll be pinning you down until the entire room smells like fuck."

"Look at you on your knees before I even walk in the door. Greetin' me like the filthy good girl you are. My pet, yeah, my sweet pet. Stand up. That's it, lemme see how red they are. Hm, barely pink. Back down. I said, back down darlin'. The boys had me listenin' to bullshit all day at work. Fuckin' children, they are, dove. All that tension built up and now my cock's hard as a rock. Look at me. Now here's what's gonna happen, right. You're gonna take that pretty tongue of yers and trace every single vein, ridge, and inch. Then that mouth better drain these balls until I have to fight ya off, yeah? They're as heavy as the day was long. And maybe, just maybe pet, if you're good I'll tongue fuck that tight pussy until they fill up again. This night ain't over til every last drop of me is deep in that sexy ass of yers. Now, undress me."

*more tomorrow*

@hecatemoon87 @buttercup32sstuff @darklydeliciousdesires @quarterpastmidnight @inkededucatednnerdy @inkwolvesandcoffee @khanbika @kittycatcait219 @aranoburns @zablife @moon-shin-gun @tomhardysforeheadlines @threeminutesoflife

[lostgirlfandom]

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Thomas Shelby

Affection

Shorty

Unrequited

Unrequited Part II

John Shelby

Arthur Shelby

Alfie Solomons

[ryuzakemo128]

Lazy Sunday

Genre: Wholesome vibes only

Potential Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Red (Female Reader)

Rating: Suitable from ages 16+

Summary: Red spends time with her friends, Alfie, Thomas and Aberama.

Author's Note: Modern version of the show Peaky Blinders. If you want more of this type of style let me know. Message me if you want to. I don't mind.

Masterlist: Link

The night before Red and her friends went out drinking for a few hours, Red outdrank Thomas and he stayed over for the night, sleeping on Red's couch. Alfie headed home and Aberama called Polly to pick him up. Instead of trying to drive home. What ended up waking Thomas and Red up that morning is Alfie knocking on the front door.

"Oh, calm down Alfie." Red mumbled as she went to her front door of her cottage. Red groggily shuffled to the door, her eyes half-closed and her hair tousled from sleep. It was a lazy Sunday morning, "Why you so loud in the morning?"

Red opened the door to find a disheveled Alfie Solomons standing there, his usual confident demeanor slightly faded. His usually slicked-back hair was now unkempt, and he had a slight hangover from the previous night's escapades.

Alfie let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Red. "Red, thank God you're awake. I need your help, love. I had a bit too much to drink last night and ended up misplacing my keys. I've been knocking on doors for half an hour, and I'm getting strange looks from the neighbors."

Red couldn't help but chuckle at Alfie's predicament. "Well, you do know how to make an entrance, don't you? Come on in, Alfie." She stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter her cottage.

Alfie stepped inside, looking around with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Red's cottage had a cozy and inviting atmosphere, with warm colors, rustic furniture, and the faint scent of herbs lingering in the air.

As Alfie made himself comfortable on the couch, Red went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. She handed them to him, a sympathetic smile on her face. "Here, this should help with the hangover. You're lucky I keep these around."

Alfie gratefully accepted the water and painkillers, swallowing them down with a grateful nod. "Cheers, Red. You're a lifesaver, you know that?"

Red also brought his keys, "You left them here, after Aberama took us out drinking in his car."

Alfie let out a sheepish chuckle, taking the keys from Red. "Well, that explains it. Must've slipped my mind after the drinks. Thank you, Red. I owe you one."

Red waved it off with a smile. "No need to worry about it, Alfie. We all have our forgetful moments, especially after a night like that. Besides, it gave you a reason to visit me on this lazy Sunday morning."

Thomas, who had been woken up by the commotion, entered the room with a groggy expression. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Alfie with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Alfie, what are you doing here? And why are you looking like a drowned rat?"

Alfie chuckled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Seems I misplaced my keys last night and had to pay Red a visit to retrieve them. And let me tell you, Thomas, she's been an absolute gem of help. But I think we both owe her a massive apology for the noise and disturbance."

Thomas blinked, taking a moment to process the information. He glanced at Red, a grateful smile forming on his lips. "Red, thank you for helping Alfie out. And I'm sorry if we caused any inconvenience."

"You're my friends, I don't plan on sharing any time soon. Bother me as much as you like. It's fine." Red replied. "It's always fun with you guys."

Alfie nodded in agreement. "Red's right. We're lucky to have you, love. And I promise we'll make it up to you somehow."

"You can let me make you a traditional Russian breakfast," Red replied. With that Red made Alfie and Thomas a traditional Russian breakfast all three of them.

[mlmxreader]

One Look | Alfie Solomons x gn!reader

anonymous asked: Alfie Solomons: Hello! You doing good? I hope so 🖤. May I please humbly request of you something using the following prompts for Alfie Solomons X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: "Don't roll your eyes at me"+"Hey, hey, look at me, c'mon"+"I thought we were... forget it" Thank you so very much 🖤🖤! 🐍anon

summary: Alfie doesn't take too kindly to someone else eyeing up what's his.

tws: swearing, threats and threats of murder, jealousy and possessiveness

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Luca shifted in his seat, swallowing thickly as he looked at you; you had dropped your pen, and when you had bent down to retrieve it, he had gotten the perfect view of your backside.

But he knew that you were off limits, he knew that he couldn't lay a hand on you or else Alfie would have his guts for garters; he could only look, feeling like his hands were chained to the arms of the chair as he clenched his jaw and took in a harsh breath. The way Alfie had spoken about you, Luca had guessed that there was something going on; protective, possessive, harsh, jealous.

Luca knew that Alfie wouldn't hesitate, everybody did; all it took was one look at how Alfie treated you to know that there wasn't anything that that man wouldn't do for you. There were no lines in the sand for Alfie to cross, not when it came to you. But… Luca couldn't help but to look.

Your slightly unbuttoned shirt that showed off your skin, the trousers that hugged your ass so perfectly, the scattered droplets of sweat running against the back of your neck and down your head to settle on your brow.

The shape of your lips and how you smiled. The colour of your eyes and how he could have sworn that he had only seen a colour that breathtaking when he had seen artwork in a museum.

Luca swallowed thickly, knowing that you wouldn't even take another glance at him, knowing that if he so much as lifted a finger, Alfie would destroy him. Luca couldn't help but to wonder, though.

Did Alfie know what he had?

Did he appreciate the curve of your ass?

Did he appreciate the masterpiece of your eye colour?

Did he appreciate the soft glitter of sweat on your skin?

Did he appreciate your exposed skin?

Did he appreciate the shape of your lips?

Your smile?

Did he appreciate you at all?

Maybe it was stupid of him to think, you were obviously loyal to Alfie, you made that more than clear when he strolled in; immediately and excitedly going to him. Your arms around his neck as you kissed him deeply, leaning into him when he pulled you close.

Refusing to budge from his side, leaning into him and smiling at him. Alfie glared at Luca, who had been caught staring.

"The fuck you lookin' at?" Alfie hissed. "You fuckin' makin' eyes at my partner?"

Luca shifted in his seat, clearing his throat and trying to put on a show of stoicism. "No. Of course not, Mister Solomons. You made it perfectly clear that your partner is strictly off limits."

Alfie nodded curtly, looking at you from the corner of his eye for a second. Silently asking for your opinion. You hummed, squirming in his grasp and got a little closer. "That cunt didn't lay a hand on you, did he?"

"No," you shook your head. "He wouldn't be breathing if he was."

He laughed at that, grinning at you for a moment as he nodded in approval. "Taught you well enough."

You looked smug as you followed Alfie with great loyalty, waiting for him to sit at his desk before you brought yourself down on his lap; your back against the arm of the chair, you relaxed when Alfie let his hand rest on the inside of your upper thigh, dangerously close.

Luca sighed, doing his best not to hang his head and shake it; you were so loyal, more so than the likes of Doc Holliday. You were loyal, and there was nothing that Luca could do about it - the worst part was that Alfie seemed to pick up on Luca's train of thought, as he grinned and grabbed your chin with his free hand, pulling you in for a kiss purely to show off.

"Mister Solomons, I thought we were… forget it. We'll reschedule."

Alfie cocked a brow, not even taking his eyes from you as he grumbled under his breath. "You fuckin' sit there lookin' like you fuckin' despise me bein' with my partner in my own fucking office. You sit there with a face like a slapped ass, you fuckin' think I'd let you reschedule?"

"You're clearly busy," Luca huffed.

"Nah, we ain't," Alfie chuckled. "Are we, love?"

You shook your head, refusing to break his gaze. "Course not, Alf! We ain't busy."

"That's what I thought," he confirmed with a soft kiss. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Luca roll his eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me, sunshine."

"Tell him, Alf," you muttered. "Go on, lay into him."

Alfie grinned, shaking his head fondly as he finally properly looked at Luca. He wasn't impressed, in all honesty. Sure, Luca was tall, and with that big overcoat and the toothpick in between his lips, he had an intimidating look to him. Not enough to make Alfie even think twice, though.

"Hey, hey, look at me, c'mon, you yank cunt," Alfie clicked his fingers, grabbing Luca's attention. "You fuckin' look at my partner again, and I'll fuckin' show you what I told Tommy Shelby for doin' the same."

Luca huffed. "Mister Solomons-"

"One more look," Alfie warned. "Even just a fuckin' glance. I will take that pretty face of yours, and I will shred it against the fuckin' bricks outside. I will fuckin' shoot you. I will kill you."

Luca was a seasoned enough gangster to know that Alfie wouldn't be joking. That he was serious. "Understood."

"My partner," Alfie barked out. "You touch even a fuckin' hair on their head - I will cut you down."

Luca took a step back. "Are we done here?"

"No," Alfie scoffed quietly. "Sit the fuck down, yank. We got business, ain't we?"

Reluctantly, Luca took a seat opposite the desk; he couldn't deny that it was hard for him to see you with Alfie. You were so fucking stunning, breathtaking - yet, you only had eyes for Alfie. Your loyalty would only ever lie with Alfie. Luca didn't have a fucking chance.

You loved Alfie.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Say it Dirty - An Alfie Solomons/Reader One Shot Story.

For my babes @cillmequick and @zablife. Enjoy!

Words - 1,467

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Alfie. One could never use the word tall to describe the gangster rum distiller of Camden town, but suffice to say, he is big. He takes up space. He has presence. Alfie is so wide in both physical width and the enormity of his personality, he fills whatever room he happens to be within.  

Everything about Alfie is imposing. That is why you fell for him in the first place. What gets your blood tingling with desire the most, though... 

“Next lad!”  

Oh, that enormous voice. He doesn’t shout often, but when he does, it sends your knees to jelly.  

“Next lad!” 

He’s handing out the weekly wages, the precise count out of pounds, shillings and pence into a small paper envelope, handing them to each of his employees for their, ahem, “baking” endeavours. The smell of the rum within the large casks fills your nose as you walk past them down in the dingy distillery, moving past the line and entering Alfie’s office.  

“Bear with me, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even need to look up from his desk to know you’ve arrived. He can smell the sweet notes of your perfume in a sea of rum and sweaty men a mile off. “Just gotta get these fellas paid, innit.”  

You perch on the edge of his desk, his hand moving to stroke your thigh fleetingly. “Next lad!” God, you’ll melt off the edge of the desk if you’re not careful. “Is there a fuckin’ reason you’re gorping, boy?”  

“Um, n-no, Mr. Solomons.”  

Alfie lowers his spectacles, raising his eyebrows. “You seriously comin’ in here for your pay, and giving me missus the once over with your beady little eyes while you’re here, eh? Nah, son. Off you fuck, while you still have them legs to carry ya. Just know, though. If I ever see you lookin’ at her like that again, yeah, it’ll be the last fuckin’ time you have eyes, mate.”  

The young man takes his wages with a stiff gulp. “S-s-sorry, Mr. Solomons.”  

“Ain’t me you was lookin’ at like a slab of meat.” He folds his arms, jerking his head in your direction, a smile spreading beneath his beard. “Apology should be directed at me wife, really.” 

“I apologise, Mrs. Solomons.” He’s steadier when talking to you, wringing his cap between his hands nervously all the same.  

Alfie studies you, watching you nod. “Alright, fuck off outta here. Next lad!” He scurries from the office, your husband continuing to hand out each wage envelope and mark it off with a pencil strike in the ledger. With the last lad paid, he stands, moving before you.  

“Now, how about I take my little turtle dove out for a bit of nosh, yeah?” Well, that’s the sole reason you came to meet him from work, after all. He goes for a quick wash and to change his shirt before you leave, yet when he returns, he finds you not quite as ready to leave as he is.  

The double take at seeing you sitting atop his desk naked is priceless, eyes touring your bare curves with much interest. “My darlin’, I dunno what kind of fuckin’ restaurant you think we’re going to, right, but it ain’t the kind where the customers sit about naked.”  

“Can’t help it,” you purr, pulling him close, hands smoothing over his fresh shirt. “See it’s when you raise your voice, Alfie, when you get defensive of me, too. It does things to me, that voice of yours.”  

He looks quietly thrilled at that. You don’t quite know how one can raise an eyebrow with cocky intent, but Alfie nails it every time. “Yeah, that right, love? You like the sound of my voice? Why don’t you sit on my cock while I talk to you, then?” 

Grasping his shirt, you pull him close. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, Alf.”  

Your lips meet in a slow tempest, all heat and honey, his hands beginning to glide where his eyes have already roamed, touring your bare flesh keenly. When his mouth follows, you whimper, each kiss sinking into your skin, the soft of his beard coaxing tickles over your flesh. Hot hands adorned in cool gold knead at your thighs, fingers slipping between.  

The sweet sting of him toying with your clit radiates, little pricks of pleasure trickling down your spine, puddling at those clever fingers, his teeth sharp at your neck. “Always did love my hands, didn’t ya, dove?”  

You hum in appreciative response against his tongue, mouths locked, those fingers you do indeed love so much thrusting within. He opens you, pushing greedily, his raspy chuckle low and self-satisfied at each little mewl that pours from your mouth like wine, your cunt clenching around each rotation as he roots those thick digits, so inordinately deep.  

“Fuck, get in the chair,” you pant, hands moving to slide his braces down, undoing his trousers. “I need to ride you. Now.” 

He chuckles, his thumb rolling over your clit sending sparks to skitter wildly. “Ain’t half a demanding little mare tonight, aint’cha?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, Alfie letting his trousers and undergarments fall to pool at his ankles, sitting down in the chair and guiding you astride him. “But then I always did know what’s good for me.” Taking him, you squeeze the thick of his rigidity, pushing him to your glistening opening and dropping down until you’re full.  

You can feel every inch of him pressing your soft walls, thick and heavy, his hand weaving into your hair and pulling until you arch for him, bending like a crescent moon. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, look at that body bow for me. Can’t wait to watch these pretty little tits bounce while you ride me, darlin’.”  

His mouth devours you, nipples sucked and bitten, his free hand grasping your hip as you begin to roll against him, his girth sending sensations to flutter up your spine, fizzing like champagne bubbles, the hint of teeth upon the peak of your nipple sending glimmers to join them. “Ain’t even half started properly yet, and this sweet little cunt is like a fuckin’ lake. Yeah, look at you. So fucking pretty for me, ain’t ya? So pretty and sweet, split open on me.”  

His words mist hot beneath your skin, rising like steam, the torrent of seductive filth unabating. “Think I could have you like this on me for hours, and I wouldn’t get tired of watching you gripping tight on my cock. And you would, wouldn’t ya? Yeah, you’d keep giving, my beautiful, cock hungry little doe.”  

His thumb stretches, and it sends a rain of pleasure pelting through you when he brings it to your clit, circling, your bundle twitching against the stroke, your toes gripping on the floorboards beneath as you begin to ride him with more determination. “That’s it, sweet. Show me how much you love this cock.”  

The moan seeps from your lips, sweet and slow, like thick syrup, the clasp of your cunt tight upon him, the sound of him punching into the very wet of you lewd, mixing with the slap of your arse smacking hard against his solid thighs. It’s a symphony of utter sin, his groans adding delicious baritone, your tits bouncing, his hands moving to clutch them as his tongue swipes your cleavage.  

His touch has lightning forking from nerve to nerve, your ministrations greedy in desperate need to come around him, wet his cock further with the dew of your orgasm, your hands fisting tight in his hair, a shift of his hips sending him deeper into the flutter of your cunt.  

You sob his name, and he pushes even deeper, so heavy and overwhelming within you. “Come on, my beautiful little darlin’. Come pretty for me on this cock.”  

Oh, how you do, the pleasure burning neon through your nerves, a sky of colours painted over you as it topples you completely. The scream it pulls from you has him twitching, and he becomes caught in the tide of it, cock pressed filthily deep into the rhythmic clasping of you, spilling hard, everything tense undoing and softening to fluid bliss. You both swim in it, adrift on the endless ocean, panting against one another.  

“Fuck, that worked up a right appetite,” he finally breaths, kissing your neck as you roll your eyes. 

“Do you ever cease thinking about your stomach?” 

He chuckles, low and dirty. “Yeah. I often think about how good me wifey feels when she fucks me like she just did. And you can count on it, treacle, that I’ll be thinkin’ about it for the rest of the night an’ all.” 

The way he keeps stealing heated glances at you all the way through dinner, you’re left in little doubt of that, too.  

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Hi I hope you’re well 😊 I’m here to request your thoughts on Tommy Shelby as a father. Like how many kids you’d think he would have had if he only had one love interest (no falling in love with Grace or marrying Lizzie). Or if you think he’d be a girl or boy dad (personally i’d like to think he’d be a girl dad and have a big family haha). You can make this headcanon or just simply respond to this ask however you’d like! Thank you for taking the time to read and answer 🥰

Thomas Shelby as a Father

Tommy x Fem!Reader

Trope: Wait till your father gets home Warnings: Angst, spoilers for most of the series, period-typical sexism, references to past ab-se.

What we see of Tommy as a father is that he's distant and seemingly detached. This, I feel, is because of his trauma in losing Grace and his growing obsession with obtaining power.

We do see that Tommy is aware of his children's emotional state but seems unable to comfort his son. He goes as far as to have Arthur be the one to talk to his son about why he had to shoot his horse.

Tommy clearly cares about his children. He runs through a field of landmines to save his son, when he had almost stepped on one to purposely end his own life. Tommy goes nearly mad when he finds out Alfie Solomons was involved with the enemy that kidnapped his son. He shot Alfie for that betrayal with the intent to kill.

When Ruby became ill and he thought was all due to a curse, Tommy hunted the woman down. He went on a bloody rampage because he thought it would save her. With all of this, we know he is a loving father. But without Grace, he doesn't seem to know how to show that love.

Let's say that there is no Grace, only you, and that no sapphire is ever put around your neck.

That Thomas might be different than the one we saw parenting Charles and Ruby. I think he would want more than two children. I think he would be the sort of man who would say "one is enough," but really he wants four.

He would never raise his voice in his home without good reason. Tommy knows what its like to have a father that rules through fear and honey. He won't be kind only when he wants something. He won't make his children afraid of him.

Personally, I do see him as prime girl-dad material. Like he would have one son and three girls. Regardless of the birthing order, he calls the boy his "heir," but spoils the girls. They each have their own horse, a wardrobe of beautiful clothing, and freedom to do literally whatever they want. He has opened his briefcase to find dollies and teacups from your youngest girl's tea set before. She thought he would be lonely at work.

His girls would be the sort to follow around staff and ask them intrusive questions. Tommy would not be immune. His daughters would probably ask him questions like: "Do you not grow hair on the back of your hand daddy? Is that why it's only on top?" At least one of his daughters would have a "I'm totally a witch," phase where she's flinging curses just like he used to. Only with her, it's cute because she's only nine.

The only son of Thomas Shelby would be safely tucked under his wing. At your imploring, he would take your boy on long car rides or out into town without his sisters to bond. The boy has a lot of pressure on him to succeed, Tommy doesn't always sympathize with that.

All four of his children would be little hellions. He would be dragged to see their school's headmaster on a near weekly basis. To the point where he isn't always sure which of his kids is in trouble sometimes. He just drops a donation to the school and the problem goes away. That's not to say your children are bratty or terribly spoiled. Well, they are, but not unbearably so...

Tommy makes sure his children understand where he came from. He brings them all to the Cut to watch the ships come through. Loves to leave them at Charlie's yard for an afternoon of mischief and bonding time with "Grandpa Charlie." They also get dropped off at Aunt Polly's home for weekends every now and again. The girls always come back with a new swear word.

They are new money, not old money. There are those who will look down upon them based on this alone. He makes sure his children are educated and well-rounded individuals. Tommy often worries about the state of the Shelby Empire after he dies. You remind him that he "isn't allowed to die," before you say so.

Tommy is still more distant than you would like him to be. He's so focused on his goals, it's like he forgets all about Arrow House and the family that lives there. The oldest two girls have said as much to his face once before. He took the family on holiday after that. You knew he would go right back to long nights in the office, but it was still sweet.

Life with him is hardly perfect, but it's closer to it than you could have with anybody else. And that's enough.

[brummiereader]

@justrainandcoffee and he does indeed look, bonita. In a goofy kinda way 😂❤️!

This with the moodboard got a giggle from me, Flor! I love playful Alfie, as much as I love his cheeky side that comes out when Rose is about.

Hmm 🤔, now what could those other pictures be, Alfie 🤭?

Bonita (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc)

"Did you take my phone this morning while I was taking a shower, Al?"

Alfie was behind the reception counter working when his girlfriend called him. "I don't know, did I?""

"I had a meeting and when I opened my phone to show the client some designs, I found your pictures. You're adorable."

"Glad you mention it, Rosie. Because I felt bonita."

From the other side of the line, he heard her laugh "Do you still feel bonita?"

"I feel bonita, yes."

"Good. You're bonita, but you know that."

"Also took some pictures of Cyril sleeping on our bed because he looked adorable. And I made a playlist for Beast and also your brother called in the process. There's also more pictures in a private album, but I highly recommend you not to open them in public."

"Oh God... You didn't."

"I did, luv, I told you... I felt bonita."

Based on this post. Thanks for your tag @peakyswritings ❤️

Alfie x Rose masterlist