#alfie solomons x fem!reader
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teddy06writes · 3 months ago
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Whumptober Day 10 - Alfie Solomons
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Alfie Solomons x reader
Prompt: "Shhh, I've got you now, I'm here."
Trigger Warnings: Typical peaky blinders level violence, swearing
Summary: Sabini's men kidnap you in a desperate attempt to get a leg up on your husband. When Alfie finds out, he's ready to burn the world down to get to you.
{Really unsure whether to tag this as Gn! or fem! because on the whole the readers gender is not brought up but the situation is something that i've only really seen done with fem! readers}
The building they were holding you in was dark and damp. You weren't sure how long you'd been stuck lying here, the cold concrete sapping all the warmth from your bones.
Sabini's men had left some time ago, but you swore you could still feel their hands on you. You could already feel the deep ache of the bruises forming at your sides.
How long had it been since the car trailing you on your way home was pulling up beside you? How long since you'd been dragged inside off the empty street? How long would it be until your husband realized what had happened?
Sabini had only shown face for a few minutes. Just long enough for you to learn who had taken you and why. Just long enough for you to give him a black eye.
Then he had angrily thrown you to the wolves that were his men, in the darkness of the warehouse. You had fought there too. Fought and scratched and bit, so that if you weren't leaving without a mark, neither were they.
Somewhere in the distance, you heard tires crunching on gravel. You dragged yourself to sit up, heart pounding. Was it Sabini, back again to continue your torment?
Outside, there was some sort of scuffle, followed by the echo of gunshots, as whoever was on guard barked out frantic orders. The fighting seemed to move closer, and you clamped your hands over your ears, silently wishing you back at home, safe and sound.
When the door of the warehouse slammed open, you flinched, searching desperately for the brave front you had put up in front of Sabini.
When you looked up to find a familiar figure in the door, you nearly let out a sob of relief, stumbling to your feet.
"Treacle!?" Alfies voice boomed out through the warehouse.
"Alf- Alfie-"
Before you could take more than two wobbly steps, he was at your side, catching you up in his arms. You buried your face in his chest, all of your emotions boiling over in great gasping sobs.
Alfie ran a hand over your back, "Shh, i've got you. I'm here, I'm here."
"It was- it was so- he-" You stuttered, taking another shuddering breath.
"They can't hurt you, I've got you, petal. Alfie's got ya," He started to pull away, to look you over, but you clung to him, and he sighed, scooping you up into his arms, "Come on, let's get you home, love."
He carried you out to the waiting car, settling in the backseat with you tucked safely against his side. Later, behind the safety of closed doors, he would check you over for injuries, and nurse you through every one.
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futurefamousdeadmusician · 1 year ago
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You Have a Deal
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Author's note; Hey all, this is my first run at publishing my writing, hope someone likes it and let me know what you think! I have done some mild PB plot alterations to fit my story better.
Summary; When the Shelby family is under attack from the Changrettas the youngest sibling, Lillian, makes a deal with a distant business partner to ensure the safety of her loved ones.
Content warnings; mild spoilers.
The air of the afternoon was cold this day. Impenetrable grey covered the sky above Birmingham and pressed an awful feeling into Lillian. Her gaze down at the cobblestone, she made her way through the lively Calver Lane until she reached her destination, Solomon’s Mill. She looked up at the building and thought once again of her reasons for coming. No one had known she was here, and she liked it that way. With her family under siege and fair reasoning long gone from the Shelby family, she decided that it was her who needed to devise a plan. A way out. A way through. She moved through the final steps until she reached the door of the old brick building. Built sometime in the 1820’s she could tell Solomon’s Mill was a long standing business on the outskirts of the city. A staple of Birmingham that lasted through the most disheartening economic conditions. Owned and founded by the Solomon’s family after they immigrated to England. Nothing shook this old place; not guns, not violence, not the bloody communists. Always there and always of interest to the Peaky Blinders. They were cordial, if not cooperative at times. Now, Lillian relied on that mutual respect to hold steady when she pushed open the large barn-style doors. 
The air sweeping from the factory carried the sent of the fresh grain being processed through the large, rusted machinery. The shadows of the quick moving men bustling around danced at her feet as she walked through the threshold and made her way to a small room attached to right wood slat wall. Rapping three times on the fragile wooden frame a younger man looked up from his desk and cocked an eyebrow to Lillian. 
“Ye’,” he said quickly, barely parting his lips to speak. 
Slowly, calmly, with the utmost care to appear collected in her appearance, she spoke, “ I’m here to see Mister Solomons.” 
Eyeing her up and down, the nameless man gradually stood from his seat and addressed her more directly than before. He stood not much taller than the young Shelby. Short curls held close to his head and a tattered apron hung off his thin frame. 
“And what’s yer’ order of business?” he questioned. 
“I believe that to be a private matter.” 
He walked around his desk and Lillian did her best not to release the stern eye contact she held on him since her arrival. A lesson from Tommy she knew well, for when you look into the eyes of another man it is much harder to lie; and much harder to kill. 
“Open the purse.” He spoke flatly, unblinking. 
She dropped the small purse defiantly onto the wood-back chair in front of her. She flipped open the small titanium latch and took a small step back to allow the gaunt man his inspection uninterrupted. He drew a pencil from behind his ear and flicked through her things, like they were dirty. Like they were not worthy to be touched by the human hand. Without a word, he looked once again into the dark eyes of the woman before him and peaked over he shoulder into the doorway leading back to the vast factory floor. 
“Come with me,” he ordered in the same flat tone. 
Picking up her bag, Lillian followed him as he walked quickly out into the large room and maneuvered through the men and machines working in impeccable rhythm. She willed herself to keep pace with the small man, heels echoing through the loud space and causing men to turn their heads both in amusement and strict curiosity. Once her escort reached the back most offices of the mill he cracked open the door and spoke softly in a language Lillian did not recognize. After a few exchanges the man stepped to the motioned for Ms. Shelby to enter the small, dark closet. 
There, Mr. Solomons sat at an old oak desk, leaned far back in his seat with the amusement of a child lingering on his bearded face. 
“Ahhh Lillian,” he spoke loudly, “to what do I owe this enormous pleasure.”
“Mr. Solomons.” A brief pause as Lillian sat herself slowly on the chair paced strangely close to the overbearing desk. “There are a few matters I wish to discuss with you and I preferred them to be in person.” 
“Ah sweetheart, and what might that be. Did the new sweets parlor open up just past Harding, is that it?” He bellowed with laughter and Lillians eyes remained engrained in his skull. She always thought back to the words of her older brother in moments of this gravity. 
“Don’t look away from them - the men who wish to kill you - it only gives them time to make that decision.” 
Once the fitful bits of laughs subsided and the ringing from the old slat walls hushed away, Lillian spoke in the same calm tone she had mastered years earlier. 
“I believe I have something you want.” 
Another astonished chucked escaped the burly man. 
“And what would that be?” 
A cold breeze moved through the room. It never occurred to Lillian why men of such power chose to have a room so small to reside in. When her family had the means, they awarded themselves luxury. But Alfie, he hid away in this small closet. Maybe it made himself feel bigger in some way. 
“Brooklyn.” 
“The fuck you mean ‘Brooklyn’,” 
“Brooklyn. New York. Chicago. Shit maybe Boston by the time we are done.” 
The boss moved up farther in his seat. He readjusted his head to the side, believing that he may have heard the young girl wrong. 
“Love, what the fuck are you on about? Did you brother send you.” 
Almost too quickly she responded, “I came on my own accord.” She didn’t like always falling under the wing of her family; Tommy in particular. While the Shelby name came with certain privileges bestowed upon her at birth, she valued her identity. So long she had relied on Thomas to protect the family. Now, with the looming threat of the Italian’s hanging over like a dark cloud, she was on her final idea to pull her family through to safety. 
“Shelby company limited has taken a special interest in the American liquor market. We feel that it would be in your interest, as well as ours, if we cooperated on this matter. Together, we both have much to gain,” she continued, finally regaining her full composer. 
“Ye’ and why would I want business in America? What’s the fuckin’ catch?” Solomons pressed. 
“The Changretta family has made advances against my family. We are now using this opportunity to move into the American market while they are occupied here. This is a quite unique chance to collaborate with our American acquaintance without the influence of the Italians. With your power, as well as ours, I think that we could quite a fitting sum.” For the first time, Lillian broke her gaze away, reaching into her purse to exhume a cigarette before flashing her eyes back to Alfie. He leaned back in his chair, the creak of the old wood breaking the frigid silence. He gaze slowly moved back and forth over the ceiling while his hands rested behind his head. 
“Power,” he began. “Your power and my power,” almost as if he was explaining the concept to a child. “Where is your brother at, Lillian?” 
“He is attending to other business in Bristol.” Lillian, as a principle, didn’t like lying. But, as a Shelby, it came as naturally as breathing. 
“Where is Arthur?”
“Overseeing the tracks.” A puff of smoke escaped from her lips following her statement. 
“Then who in the fuck sent you?” His anger showed. Frustration. Questioning. He was half expecting one of Tommy’s men to appear from behind the doorframe and put a bullet between his eyes, finally revealing this to be an elaborate set up orchestrated by the young woman before him and her devilish relatives. But the bullet never flew and Lillian sat motionless in his chair waiting to respond. 
“I come as a representative of the Shelby Company Limited with a legitimate proposal for enterprise cooperation.” 
“And why should I trust the lot of you? Bunch of gypsy crooks.”
She sat once again, silent, patient, and held his gaze for just a moment to long. Leaning forward, she put the stiff out in a small crystal bowl on the corner of Mr. Solomon’s desk. She retrieved her handbag from her feet and pulled out a small, white envelope. After tossing it lightly on the desk in front of the bearded man she returned to her natural position in the chair, arms crossed, the Shelby, deadpan expression returning to her features. Alfie pulled his spectacles onto the bridge of his nose from the chair laced around his neck. He collected the envelope and carefully took out the ivory card within. A black handprint stained the cover. Mr. Solomons didn’t need to examine the paper any further and flicked up his eyes to meet Lillian’s once again. 
“Every one of us got one.” 
“I see.”
“If the Shelby family dies, your possibilities of every entering the American market get buried with us. Or burned rather…” she trailed on, looking off to the side, examining the bookshelf behind him. “You know, Gypsy things.” 
Alfie released a deeply held sigh and placed the card down back onto the desk with more care than the original owner did. Somewhere, deep down, he held grace for the young woman before him. He recognized that she was a result of her surroundings. Born into the small, violent hole that is Small Heath as a Shelby and since her birth has survived through the forces of her family and her gritty resilience. He new she wanted out. She loved her family, that was her weakness, but she longed to see the hills of the Netherlands and the cathedrals of Austria and the new bustling cities of America. To do this though, she must survive.
“I would need a more formal manner of proposal, numbers and such,” he explained still keeping that condescending tone. But Lillian already began to sit up straighter in anticipation carful not to let this emotion overtake her. “But tentatively, I believe we can work something out.”
A small smirk graced across her lips as she extended her hand. “Very well, Mr. Solomons, I’ll have my associates reach out to your tomorrow.” With that, she was on her feet, quickly remembering to pick up the dreadful letter she had pulled out moments ago. Carful in her movements she walked slowly out of office and shut the door behind her, leaving Alfie sitting in silence, wondering what he had just agreed to. He held much respect for Thomas and therefor placed some onto his younger counterpart. 
Lillian exited the factory and began down the darkening street until she was able to hail an oncoming cab. 
“Watery Lane, please,” she said quietly to the driver who nodded at her instructions. She was eager to meet with Aunt Polly and tell her of her plan of action knowing the elder Shelby would be much more receptive to this idea. Her only fear was Thomas, but that would have to wait. She just hoped that she had done the right thing. 
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caffeineaddictwriter · 6 months ago
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Alfie Solomon’s with a baking obsessed wife!
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Description: headcannons of Alfie with a reader who has an obsession with baking!
Warnings: bit of sexual touching, f! Reader.
•can easily get used to coming home to a kitchen table stacked with trays of baked goods.
•will always give you money to go buy baking supplies no matter the cost or time.
•will wrap his arms around your waist when your mixing something and slowly inch one of his hands up to your breasts.
•always showing off his baking wife.
•likes to rub it in tommys face whenever they have a meeting, will always have cakes that you’ve baked but won’t let Tommy touch them.
•will always be willing to be a tester for new recipes you come up with.
•once death glared Ollie for a solid week because you gave him a bit of cake first.
•scolds you when you give Cyril some of your baking but in reality he loves seeing the beast content as he eats a bit of your sweet treats.
•is so used to the smell of baking when he comes home that if he doesn’t smell it he goes into panic mode.
•will go all soft mode if you start criticising your own baking.
•if you get the need to bake in the middle of the night you bet your ass he’s joining.
•he’ll drink a cold whiskey as he helps you with whatever you need him to do.
•he gives you some of his mother and grandmothers recipe books and almost cries when you make a dish from them.
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thehardy-boys · 1 year ago
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The Platform (Tommy Shelby x Reader)
Hey! Its literally been like forever but I've had some time to myself and actually written something. This was not requested or anything but I just got inspired with all the new content recently. Anyways, pls enjoy. It's a series so there will be more parts to the story.
Warnings: Sadness, negative thoughts, flirting if you squint (In the future -- smut 😏)
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Part 1
(y/n) hadn’t planned on ever coming back.
“I’ll put your tea here then mum. Alright?” (y/n) spoke fairly loudly so the elderly woman could hear. She was nearing eighty and she had lost most of her sight and hearing. She was a ghost nearing on a corpse. But there was no one else to look after her. As these kinds of responsibilities usually fall on the women, the daughters, they fell on (y/n) just the same.  
“I’m heading to work. Mrs. Iona will check in on you from time to time, alright?” The bedroom door was almost closed when she heard the slight mumble coming from the shriveled woman.
“Not supposed to be here. Don’t want her here. Take her away.”
She paused only for a moment suddenly hit with a wave of the past. The tide so strong it almost pulled her into its murky depths. But with the door closed and the sight of her mother taken away (y/n) turned her back and softly made her way out of her mother’s house.
She waved to Mrs. Iona as she shut the front gate and walked back down the street towards the main road. Her shoes already collecting the terrible coal dust.
She hated it here. The heavy air that the sunlight could never quite penetrate which resulted in the town being in a constant gloom. It made her skin crawl. The unhappiness was crippling. The drunkards already stumbling around the street at eleven o’clock in the morning, the starving children running back and forth, the haggard mothers one step closer to the grave and the dark alleys that were haunted with glistening knives, illegal pistols, and razor-sharp caps.
Get me out of here. Get me out of here. (y/n) screamed internally but she only pushed open the heavy wooden door of the newspaper agency and kindly greeted Mrs. Kelley the receptionist before making her way to the back of the building and sitting down at her desk. Another day. More editing. That was her lot in life: never to be the one writing and creating but only a ghost in the machine, a minion behind the scenes.
By the end of every long day at the newspaper house the words would blur into one huge muddle. She’d pack up her small bag, wish a good night to her boss Mr. Beavers, and head home. Her eyes would be sore and her brain throbbing with a headache. But that was just Small Heath, barely living.
(y/n) felt that she had something missing. She knew she had it when she was younger because of all her memories. The vibrancy of the trees she climbed, the scent of baking in the kitchen, the damp fur of their pet dogs after a rain storm. Everything was so vivid back then and full. Her eyes open and wanting, now she was shuttered, fragile, and tired. Her knees often ached and her neck sore from hunching over papers all day. She was decaying, slowly.
“(y/n)!” Her head popped up from her desk at the sound of her name. Polly Gray was making her way towards her. She was as formidable as (y/n) remembered. She rose up to return Polly’s hug.
“Mrs. Gray, It’s so nice to see you!” Polly squeezed a bit tighter. The warmth of her body rubbing off onto (y/n). She welcomed it. It had been so long since she had received any kind of touch.
“When the hell did you get back?”
“About a year now.”
“A year!? A whole year and you didn’t bother to drop me a line?” Her outrage wore the mask of humor but (y/n) could tell there was genuine worry, genuine hurt lurking behind it.
(y/n) shook her head in apology, “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting to come back here and then a lot happened and I’ve just been so busy Mrs. Gray. I’m really sorry.”
“No, I know (y/n). I heard what happened. Awful stuff. I had no idea you were here dealing with it all. You should have asked for help.”
(y/n) began to shake her head and ward off Polly’s offer when her boss’s door opened up behind her.
“Ah, Mrs. Gray and Mr. Shelby do come in.” He gestured warmly into his office.
Polly rubbed her arm before stepping inside.
A tall man had been standing behind Polly. (y/n) hadn’t noticed him in the frenzy of the greeting but she didn’t need an introduction. Nobody in Small Heath did. He was just as the ladies described him at the grocers she went to weekly: cold, inscrutable, foreboding, and dangerous.  
(y/n) had lived in Small Heath only until she had turned thirteen and then her family had moved away. Her father had been close to Polly and consequently (y/n), over the years, had played with the young Shelby brothers. (y/n)’s older brother had gotten along well with Arthur and if she concentrated hard enough, she could remember playing hide and seek with Thomas and John Shelby. But it was all so long ago, and she realized she hadn’t seen any of them in over fifteen years. And yet she knew it was Thomas. She knew.
She wondered mildly if he remembered her, “(y/n) (l/n).” That was all he said with a quick nod he passed her by not glancing back and nor did she.
Polly left first and, on her way, reminded (y/n) to drop by. An hour or so later Thomas came out, as well. (y/n) was neck deep in the upcoming Sunday issue so she barely registered the figure standing next to her desk.
“Oh, Mr. Shelby! Did Mr. Beavers ask me to get you any forms?” She pushed away her paper hurriedly and stood up.
He shook his head slowly and continued to stare at her, hands deep in his pockets.
She tilted her head as a question, and he only shrugged slightly.
“I was trying to remember why you left, all those years ago.”
(y/n) sat back down. A flicker of fear coursed through her at the reminder of their family’s departure. A broken window, her father’s bruised face, and her mother’s hands constantly trembling.
“It wasn’t my decision; it was my parents.” She didn’t look up at him and instead pulled her papers back towards her. She didn’t want to sift through all those years. She could barely make it through the present.
He must have sensed the finality because he bid her good day and left but his stare stayed with her all day and even into the night. The frostiness of the blue. The condemnation they held for humanity.
Mr. Beavers explained the next morning that they were starting a partnership with Shelby Limited. They would be expanding their sports column to include more articles on the races. Mr. Beavers excitedly described the hope for a few informative articles on the intricacies of horse racing, training, and breeding. But it wasn’t just about horses Mr. Beavers went on, being attached to Shelby Limited allowed them an easy avenue for new stories and information. It was a ready-made news source.
“All this in exchange for what?” (y/n) asked.
“We give Mr. Shelby’s races publicity and well…occasionally we would publish or not publish certain articles for the company.”
(y/n) crossed her arms, “So they can censor us? What stops them from completely taking over the paper? What if next week they decide they don’t want the Theatre column? Evan and Nate would be out of the job.”
Mr. Beavers frantically shook his head, “It’s not like that, not like that at all. I know Mrs. Gray and I trust her. The company is not interested in that kind of control. I mean we’re only a small agency, (y/n).”
And thus, the partnership began and now not just (y/n) felt the steely stare of Mr. Shelby, but the entirety of the agency did.
It started slowly but Thomas began to come by once or twice a week. It was usually on Tuesdays and Thursdays. (y/n) learned from Mr. Beavers that they were working on a contract. She would here the tell-tale sound of expensive shoes on the marble floor and know even without looking up who it was. Thomas Shelby walked with such authority in his three piece suits all the young ladies at the agency were already gossiping about him during their lunch breaks. But (y/n) kept her distance.
She had always been an outsider in Small Heath. The community never welcomed her family, something to do with their Jewish ties. And now, after returning, people were even more wary. (y/n) could tell there were whispers behind her back. She ignored the fake apologies about the missing invitation when she caught her colleagues out for a bite to eat all together. It didn’t bother her, not really.
“Mr. Shelby, Mr. Beavers will be right out. His previous meeting’s running a bit late. Please sit down if you’d like.” She gestured to the few arm chairs by the window. He only nodded and sat. He lit his cigarette and did what he always seemed to do around her, stare. And she ignored him in favor of the monumental stack of paperwork in front of her.
“How much do they pay you here?” He asked out of the blue. His deep voice easily cutting through her concentration.
She looked over, “Minimum wage.”
“For all that?” He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
(y/n) shrugged.
“You edit, organize, design, and manage each issue and only get minimum wage?”
“I’m not in a position to be picky, Mr. Shelby.” She bristled a bit.
He took another drag and let the smoke column upwards. He did look beautiful with the sunlight streaming in behind him. It caught the contours of his angular face and she thought yeah, I think I get it now.
He cleared his throat and sat back satisfied her attention was now on him, “Don’t you remember me?”
“Yes. I mean we were just kids.” She shrugged lightly.
“We met on the platform.” He took another inhale of his smoke, “After the war.”
(y/n) blinked.
“Yes, we did.” Her throat had gone dry.
He opened his mouth to continue but “(y/n)! I need the consumer reports.” It was Evelyn from the market section. Her plump red lips perking up at the sight of Thomas. (y/n) had the feeling Evelyn already knew he would be here; the reports weren’t needed until the end of the day.
“Yes. Here they are.” (y/n) sifted through her desk and handed over the packet.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Evelyn asked. She played with a few loose strands of her hair.
“Oh. Uh-Mr. Shelby this is Ms. Lowe. Ms. Lowe, Mr. Shelby from Shelby Limited.”
“Ever so pleased to meet you, sir.” She placed a sneaky hand on her hip and shifted her weight a tad to conform her body into an elegant pose.
And she was attractive (y/n) had to admit. She was young and full of vigor. Her hair always done to perfection and makeup never smudged. She looked like a movie star. She looked like a woman all men would fall head over heels for. (y/n) inwardly cringed. She could only imagine what she must look like next to this creature of beauty.
But when (y/n) looked over to see Thomas’ reaction, he seemingly hadn’t stopped looking at her. Only when their eyes met did Thomas glance over at Evelyn and give a slight nod.
“Mr. Shelby! Please come in, come in! I do apologize about the delay!” Mr. Beavers rushed out and hurriedly greeted the businessman.
After the door closed Evelyn let out a huff. She handed back the packet to (y/n).
“I don’t even need these. I just wanted him to get a look if you know what I mean.”
(y/n) gave a small smile hoping to be rid of the superficial woman but she had one last request.
“Put in a few good words for me, will you? He always comes by your desk. Just drop in a few hints?”
(y/n) sighed and re-organized a few papers, “I’ll try my best Evelyn, but I can’t promise anything.”
A few hours later, Evelyn really did come and collect the consumer reports but lucky for her the office door opened and the two men appeared.
“And wonderful (y/n) here will get the correct form for you to sign Mr. Shelby. Let’s organize a convenient day for her to drop the upcoming issue down at your office weekly.”
Evelyn who was too quick easily swooped in without any hesitation, “I can help, Mr. Beavers. You know that I have a much more open schedule than (y/n). I’d be happy to deliver the issue.” She smiled blindingly.
(y/n) just sat there watching the whole thing unfold. In fact, she was actually grateful Evelyn was sticking her nose into it because she didn’t want to see more of Thomas than she already had these past few weeks.
“That is true, Mr. Beavers. Evelyn has a bit more time on her hands these days.”
The boss was beginning to make the face of agreement before, “I’d like Ms. (l/n) to be the one making the deliveries.”
And there was no room for argument with Mr. Shelby.
“Of course, whatever works best for Mr. Shelby. Let’s say every Thursday?” Mr. Beavers heartily clasped the man’s hand and then beckoned Evelyn into his office for a round up on the recent reports. (y/n) didn’t miss the venomous look the other woman shot her.
(y/n) opened her desk drawer and took out the mentioned form that needed the signature.
“Just here, Mr. Shelby.” She held out a pen for him without bothering to look up. This turned out to be a bad idea because she jumped in surprise as he partially leaned over her to sign the paper. He smelled of oak and whisky. He carried the scent of the past.
She remembered seeing his eyes in the sea of green uniforms on the platform. And she knew. She just knew. After all those years. She had walked towards him. He stood there waiting for her. His beautiful blue eyes. That beautiful face.
“(y/n) (l/n).” He had said her name then with such certainty like it was law. Like it had some kind of divine meaning and not just a jumble of letters.
“Is that all?” He asked setting the pen down.
She cleared her throat, “Yes.”
She expected him to be on his way, but she looked up when she never heard the retreating footsteps. He still stood next to her one hand on the back of her chair. Looking down at her.
“Did you not expect me to remember you?”
She clenched her jaw, “Why would I expect you to remember me?”
He furrowed his brow and walked away.
Part 2
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cosmic-crybaby · 1 year ago
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Blue Skies - Tommy Shelby
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Chapter 16: 'You're No Good For Me'
Warnings In This Chapter: Hinted affair, mentions of blood, manipulation etc etc. ANGST
Masterlist:
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It took you almost twenty minutes to calm your children down.
Reassuring them that things were going to be okay. But even you yourself were unsure. Giving them a tight hug and a kiss goodnight, making sure to tell Frances to stay with them until they fell asleep, before you entered the bedroom.
You didn't want them to hear the absolute terror you were about to unleash.
Thomas sat on the bed, his jacket discarded and his white shirt somewhat unbuttoned. His hand was still wrapped in the blood-stained cloth from the dining table. You harshly slammed the door behind you, making the room rattle, approaching him and stopping to stand in front of him with your arms crossed.
“You lost your temper with my kids, Thomas��That can never happen again, do you understand?” 
He only nods once before he purses his lips and looks up at you.
“Your kids are out of control,” He stated with raised brows and condescension behind his words. Your brows furrowed in confusion. 
“They’re fuckin’ kids! That is how kids behave when they’re tired, hungry, and disappointed,” You listed. He arched a brow at you. 'Disappointed' he repeated with a bitter laugh.
“I told you I wasn’t ready for this, didn’t I? I warned ya…I fuckin’ warned ya,” He pointed a finger at you with his non-injured hand before he stood up and struggled to unknot his tie with one hand, taking strides to his wardrobe. You stood in your place as you stared at him, bewildered.
“It’s not that hard to ask for help, you could have asked your Aunt or your sister for help, but it’s a little too late to turn back now,” You shook your head in disbelief.
“Yeah, I am sure Aunt Pol would have some great advice on how to discipline your kids for you,” He simply said with a small glance. Perplexed, you screwed your brows together. 
“Don’t you dare,” You seethed.
“What?” He taunted, walking to his wardrobe to put his clothes away. 
“Don’t you dare blame my kids, the only person acting like a child tonight was you!” 
He exhales heavily as he slammed the door to the wardrobe shut before turning to you, the obvious frustration on his face. His normal glacier eyes were dark like the darkest depths of the ocean as he wore a stern look on his face. He approached you, at least a few inches away from your face. Under any other circumstances, he would just be a kiss away. And everything would have been forgotten.
“I’m acting like a child?” Shock laced his question.
“Yes, you are,” You argued. You looked down and reached for his wrist, bringing it up to show him. “You slammed your hands so hard, that you broke a fucking glass and you cut yourself…you threw a tantrum just like a fuckin’ baby,” He jerked his hand away from you. He wasn’t in any pain, his anger numbed it.
“I have made big sacrifices for you…huge fuckin’ sacrifices, I am behind on my work because I spent all my time with you-” 
“And you think I haven’t? I have to commute at least forty minutes back and forth everyday,” You interrupted. 
“And that wouldn't have been a problem if you just took everyone’s advice and hired someone to help you,” He said quietly. 
You took a deep breath before speaking again. 
“You walked into my family…my beautiful family that took years to grow and create, one that you would have started by now if you had any strength, courage, or restraint,” You stepped back from him, glaring at him with disgust. “Esme was right, you’re unstable…I get it…work is hard but that does not give you the right to act the way you do,” 
“And how is that, (Y/n)?” His condescending tone was pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your blood boils with every second. 
“Oh, would you like me to list it off for you, Thomas?” You asked. “Your terrible temper, your unstable mood, your drinking problem, and the fact that I found snow in your office and opium in your nightstand!” You yelled. 
He chuckled.
“Ah, after all this time…I still stand by what I assumed,” 
“Which assumption would that be? Because you’ve made so many,” You laughed. You stood far away from each other. You were by your vanity while he leaned against the bedpost. 
“You pretended to be drunk to get me to fuck you, get you pregent,” 
You both fell silent. The only noises in the room were your heavy breaths and the crackling of the wood in the fireplace as the flames cast an intimidating shadow upon your face. Your chest heaved up and down rapidly as you gulped down the lump in your throat as your hands moved to rub your stomach, protectively as the baby began to move about and kick. 
“Oh God…How could you say that?” You asked yourself as you turned away from him. You held your hand over your mouth to side the sobs as you bent over, one hand leaning on the vanity. Thomas slowly approaches you and attempts to hold you. 
“This is just an obstacle…eh? Listen to me…Listen to me (Y/n), I am sorry I shouldn’t have said that, this was only a setback,” 
You pulled your arms away from his touch. Overwhelmed by everything around you. His smell, his touch, his voice, the hot temperature of the room, the weight of the baby, everything had you wanting to just tear your hair out and scream. 
“No…No this isn’t a setback, Thomas…this is a fuckin’ disaster!” 
“I warned you that the stress of what I do and the stress of this is going to ruin our relationship-” 
“The stress of what?” You asked, turning to him with tears in your eyes. 
“Having a baby together,” He answered. You shook your head. 
“No…Three…” You held up your shaky hand, showing three fingers. “Thomas…Three children!” 
“I didn’t even ask for one!” His voice boomed.
“You act like you’re the only one who fucked up their life,” 
He shook his head before he sat down at your vanity chair, picking up a cigarette to rub it across his lips before lighting it.  
“I guess that’s what happens…” He took a deep breath. “When strangers get drunk and fuck,” he exhales the smoke. 
You paused and swallow thickly. Your eyes scanned him. Until you spotted the red smudge on the collar of his shirt, the red and purple spots on his clavicle. Everything seems so clear now. Your eyes began to tear up as you gasp in doubt.
"I knew it," You muttered as you looked away. Thomas lifted his head to look at you.
"I fucking knew it!" You shouted, picking up a glass perfume bottle and raising it to throw it at him, Thomas quickly leaves the vanity chair and rushes to the washroom, dropping the cigarette as the glass bottle shattered against the hardwood as it merely missed him.
"What the fuck?!" He shouted from behind the door. He could only hear you shouting, crying and the loud crashing of only what he assumed was you breaking the valuables on the vanity. He scrambles to look in the mirror, cursing to himself as he looked at the love-bites and the lipstick that were evidently clear now that he was sober.
"You're a fucking coward Thomas Shelby!" You cried as you leaned against the door.
"It was nothing (y/n), you're overreacting!"
You chuckled sourly. leaving the door to sit on the bed. Thomas cautiously opened the door, looking out into the room, the broken glass of the beauty products were haphazardly spread across the floor. There you sat, tears glistening on your cheekbones as you looked down at the floor.
"(y/n)…please," He held his uninjured hand out as if you were a wild animal. You tsked and roll your eyes at him.
"Oh please, Thomas..." You mumbled.
He threw his hands up, breathing heavily.
"Humor me, Thomas..." You started, slowly standing up. "Who was it?"
"I don't know what you're-"
"Stop lying for one second and tell me!" You snapped. He blinks, his body seemed less tense as he conjured up the courage to tell you.
"You know who," He simply stated.
"At least have some courage and say her fuckin' name...you owe me that at least,"
Thomas licks his lips and looks down. Suddenly feeling brave he says her name. It felt like a curse leaving his lips.
"Lizzie Stark,"
You nod bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“I’m packing my shit and I’m leaving…tonight,” You told him, turning back around to pack whatever little you had left into a trunk. He watched as you then went into your children's room to wake them up and help them pack a small bag, fetching some maids to help you take them to the car as you threw whatever gifts, dresses, jewelry, other materialistic things he got for you onto the floor. Throwing your coat on as you made your way down the stairs with Frances’s help. Your children, although confused and still tired, sat in the backseat of the company car, knowing this was the last time you would have that kind of luxury. You sat in the middle as they rested their heads on your shoulders and cuddled into your sides. A single tear escaped your eye as the car began to take off down the long entry path. If only Thomas knew of the agony you felt in your heart.
Thomas stood outside, watching in somberness as you left. Without a goodbye and second glance. You and Thomas had argued before, of course but it never got this bad. It was always resolved by the morning, but he feared that this was the last time. 
He wanted to cry, scream, and yell over the fact that he really fucked up his last chance with you. He loved you more than words could say. As the car disappears into the dark distance he retreats back inside. 
"Should I assume she is coming back, sir?" Frances asked. 
"That...I am unsure, Frances..." He shook his head. 
"Please get some rest, Mr. Shelby...have some peace of mind," 
And so he did. He tried at least. He cleaned up most of your mess but as he laid in bed he held the engagement ring between his fingers. You had left it on your vanity before you took off. 
Oh how beautiful it would have looked on your finger when you got married. 
---
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zkvry · 1 year ago
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Head Baker | Billy Kitchen x Fem!Reader
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Summary : You meet Billy Kitchen for the first time.
Warnings : cussing, alfie's use of language, brief mentions of sexual themes, sexual tension
Additional Information : > follows events from season 2 of Peaky Blinders (minor spoilers) > written in second person perspective > 379 words | 3 minutes
Author's Note :
I haven't really seen any works done for him and personally, I fancy the man. Please excuse my weak attempt to literate alfie's cockney accent. Let me know if I should do more works on mista kitchen!
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"Good lad. Fill it up, and fuck off," Alfie huffs as he gestures to the occupational form you were handing out to the men. As they leave, Alfie slouches into his chair sighs deeply.
"Wher' on this fuckin' earth, right? does Thomas fuckin' Shelby get a whole bunch o' blokes to do his biddin' for him?" He complains with furrowed eyebrows.
You look at him amused. Standing right next to him, you cross your arms and lift a brow. "Jealous are we, Alfie?" You tease him.
His head snaps to your direction and blinks furiously, dumbfounded. "What? Lil' 'ol me? jealous of that twink?" His childish retaliation made you burst out in laughter.
Just then, a tall, bulky man - presumably another 'baker' saunters in. Your banter with Alfie cuts short and abrupt as you directed your attention to the stranger.
"Name," Alfie demands.
"Billy Kitchen," He states with confidence. Dominance radiating off him. His stern eyes were unwavering, almost challenging as his eyes looks down at Alfie.
From your point of view, you neck strains a little to meet his gaze. He auburn hair amess hidden under his cap, rough stuble neatly trimmed. His stout built seen clear as day even under his thick coat. Your mouth waters at the thought of those big strong arms holding you down as he thrus-
"Go on then, give the basta'd his papers and apron" Alfie calls to you, proding his elbow to your hip gently.
What? Oh.
You tense up and clear your throat, embarrassed to the bone. Your clammy palms grabbed the papers and apron in a scurry.
His eyes meet yours for the first time, his face still stoic. His gaze was intense. Your arms reach out towards him, handing him the items at hand. He leans closer from the other side of the desk, he takes them from you slowly.
"Thank you, Ms" He says gruffly, nodding his head.
He walks away with his eyes still trained on you. Your lungs burn.
Gasping
You were practically gasping for air from the breath you didn't know you were holding. In the fits of coughing, you hear Alfie's voice again.
"Right, and what in the hell was that?" His eyes wide like saucers, eyebrows halfway up his hairline.
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ryuzakemo128 · 2 years ago
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Peaky Blinders Headcanons
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Pairing: Red x Alfie Solomons
Genre: Fluff
Masterlist: List
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Alfie Taking care of Red when she is unwell Headcanons
Red Sick/ unwell Headcanons:
When Red gets sick with the flu, food poisoning, or a simple cold, she experiences some unique symptoms. Despite not being a smoker herself, her cough sounds like that of a heavy smoker. This peculiar symptom has often surprised and amused her friends, who find it ironic given her non-smoking habits. Red's fever also tends to spike quite high, leaving her feeling flushed and overheated. Alfie, being familiar with Red's unique symptoms, often teases her about her "smoker's cough" during her illness, but he also takes care of her and makes sure she has everything she needs to recover.
During the first stages of her illness, Red prefers to stay in either her bedroom or her small office. She doesn't like being idle and enjoys keeping herself busy even when she's unwell. She spends her time catching up on paperwork, organizing business plans, and drinking larger amounts of herbal tea to soothe her symptoms. Alfie, being the attentive partner that he is, checks in on her regularly, bringing her herbal tea and offering assistance with her work if needed.
Despite Red's preference for staying busy while she's ill, she also understands the importance of rest and taking care of herself. She spends most of her time in either her bedroom or her small office, but she makes sure to take breaks and rest when her symptoms become more severe. She drinks plenty of water to stay hydrated and soothe her throat, often adding slices of lemon or ginger to provide some relief. Alfie, being concerned for Red's well-being, reminds her to rest and takes care of any tasks she would normally handle until she recovers.
Although Red is a responsible and diligent businesswoman, she tends to get sick more often than Alfie. Perhaps it's due to her dedication to her work and the stress that comes with it. Despite regular visits to the doctor, she sometimes falls victim to common illnesses. Alfie, who has a more robust immune system, finds it both amusing and concerning that Red gets sick more frequently. He jokes about her susceptibility to illness but also takes on a caretaker role, ensuring she has everything she needs and reminding her to take better care of herself to avoid future illnesses.
As Red's illness progresses, her symptoms worsen, and she becomes more fatigued. She finds it difficult to concentrate on her work and often experiences bouts of dizziness and headaches. Alfie notices these changes and becomes more attentive, taking on a more nurturing role. He encourages Red to take breaks and rest, insisting that she prioritize her health over work.
When Red is feeling under the weather, Galina, her trusted associate, steps in to handle her responsibilities for the day. Galina is familiar with Red's work and can efficiently manage tasks in her absence. She keeps Red updated on any important developments and ensures that everything runs smoothly in her absence. Galina's presence provides Red with peace of mind, knowing that her business is in capable hands while she focuses on recuperating. Alfie appreciates Galina's dedication and willingness to assist, as it allows Red to prioritize her health without worrying about the business suffering in her absence.
Red wears a bed jacket to bed, along with flannel nightgowns underneath and a pair of socks. Like she would when she was still in Russia. Despite her not living in Russia anymore, she still wears a lot of the more traditional Russian clothing, which includes cozy and warm nightwear. She finds comfort in the familiarity of these garments, and they provide her with a sense of home during times of illness. Alfie finds it endearing and often jokes about her "Russian fashion show" before tucking her into bed, ensuring she's snug and comfortable.
To help alleviate Red's symptoms, Alfie prepares various homemade remedies that he learned from his own experiences with illness and from his eclectic knowledge. He creates soothing herbal teas with ingredients like chamomile, mint, and honey to help ease Red's cough and sore throat. He also prepares warm soups and stews, adding spices and herbs known for their healing properties. Alfie takes pride in his culinary skills, and seeing Red's face light up when she tastes his creations brings him joy.
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When Red is really unwell:
If Red is really sick and her condition becomes more serious, Alfie becomes even more attentive and concerned. He recognizes the severity of the situation and takes immediate action to ensure she receives proper medical care. He arranges for a doctor to visit their home and monitors Red's symptoms closely. Alfie stays by her side, offering comfort and support throughout her illness.
During Red's more serious illness, Alfie takes on a caretaker role, making sure she is comfortable and well-cared for. He arranges for a cozy spot for her in the living room or bedroom, surrounding her with blankets, pillows, and anything else she may need. He sits beside her, holding her hand or gently stroking her hair, providing a comforting presence during her moments of discomfort. Alfie also keeps track of her medication schedule, ensuring she takes her prescribed medications on time and in the correct dosage.
Alfie communicates with Red's doctor and follows their instructions carefully. He asks questions to clarify any concerns or doubts he may have, making sure he fully understands Red's condition and the necessary steps for her recovery. Alfie takes her temperature regularly, administers any prescribed treatments, and keeps a record of her symptoms to share with the doctor during follow-up appointments.
During Red's serious illness, Alfie takes on the responsibility of managing their business affairs. He temporarily steps into Red's role, attending meetings, making decisions, and handling any urgent matters that arise. Alfie understands the importance of maintaining the stability of their business during Red's absence, and he takes it upon himself to ensure everything continues to run smoothly.
Alfie reaches out to Red's close friends and family members to keep them updated on her condition. He understands the value of their support and wants them to be aware of Red's situation. He provides them with regular updates and reassures them that he is taking good care of her. Alfie appreciates their concern and finds solace in their well-wishes and offers of assistance.
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Red Taking care of Alfie when he is unwell Headcanons
When Alfie is unwell:
When Alfie gets sick, Red immediately shifts into caregiver mode. She ensures he has a comfortable space to rest and recover, setting up a cozy spot in their bedroom or living room with blankets, pillows, and his favorite comfort items. Red knows that Alfie tends to be stubborn when it comes to taking care of himself, so she takes charge and makes sure he follows a regimen of rest, hydration, and medication.
Red prepares nourishing meals for Alfie, making sure he gets the nutrients he needs to regain his strength. She prepares his favorite comfort foods, like hearty soups, stews, and warm drinks. Red knows that food can have a soothing effect, and she takes pleasure in watching Alfie enjoy the meals she prepares for him.
Red warns his doctor that Alfie tends to be stubborn when it comes to taking care of himself and emphasizes the severity of his illness. She ensures that Alfie's doctor is aware of any specific symptoms or concerns and asks for clear instructions on how to care for him at home. Red takes note of his medication schedule and sets reminders to ensure that he takes his prescribed medications on time.
Red creates a calm and comforting environment for Alfie to rest and recover. She plays his favorite music softly in the background and dims the lights to create a soothing atmosphere. Red knows that Alfie appreciates a sense of familiarity and security, so she makes sure their home feels like a safe haven during his illness.
 Red would often make traditional Russian foods for Alfie while he was unwell, as she knew his mother is Russian and Jewish.
Red encourages Alfie to rest and relax, reminding him that his health is the priority. She reassures him that she can handle any business matters that may arise and that he should focus on recuperating. Red understands Alfie's tendency to be driven and stubborn, so she gently insists that he takes the time he needs to recover fully.
During Alfie's illness, Red takes on the role of his personal nurse, attending to his needs and providing comfort. She checks on him regularly, ensuring he has everything he needs and offering words of encouragement. Red brings him warm beverages, like herbal tea or honey-infused drinks, to soothe his throat and ease his symptoms. She also keeps a supply of tissues and cough drops nearby, ready to provide relief whenever he needs it.
Red would also make traditional Russian warm drinks to alleviate Alfie's symptoms. She prepares drinks like Elderberry Tincture: Elderberries were used to create a tincture, which is a concentrated herbal extract. Elderberry tincture was believed to have antiviral properties and was used to support the immune system and shorten the duration of colds and flu.
During Alfie's illness, Red takes care of their pets, making sure they are fed, walked, and given attention. She knows that Alfie loves their furry companions dearly, and she wants to ensure they are well-cared for during his absence. Red often brings their pets to visit Alfie in bed, providing him with some extra comfort and companionship.
Red showers Alfie with affection and love during his illness. She holds his hand, cuddles up next to him, and whispers soothing words of comfort. Red understands that physical touch and emotional support can have a healing effect, and she wants to make sure Alfie feels loved and cared for throughout his recovery.
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runnning-outof-time · 1 month ago
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“You Came.” “You Called.” | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by anonymous
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Solomons Sister!Reader
Summary: Tommy Shelby and (Y/N) Solomons despise each other…….or do they?
Warnings: language, slight sexual situations, weapons, threats
Word Count: 1304
A/N: I’m sorry this isn’t as long as the others have been. I need to get these requests finished and this is what I was able to come out with. I hope you’ll still enjoy! Also I’ve tried something a little different at the end - hopefully you’ll participate and not be too mad at me for it! :)
A/N 2: Oh and this is the story where the Solomons!Sister won the poll — I’m not sure if it’s angsty enough…I tried my best with it. Also I’m sorry if Alfie seems ooc here…it’s been a bit since I’ve written him and I’m rusty.
COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! — I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THE STORY!
comment/message me if you’d like to be tagged!
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"You came," she sounded surprised.
"You called," his response was nonchalant.
"Yeah, but I didn't call you."
The story of Tommy Shelby and (Y/N) Solomons is a long, complicated one.
To give a quick summary: they first met the day that Tommy showed up at Alfie's 'bakery. She was the first to greet him and instantly was able to realize that there was more to his motives than what he was letting on.
She was cautious when dealing with him at first, but his charm soon enough chipped away that hesitant exterior she'd put up.
Neither could help but cross the line one late evening after a successful business dinner.
She thought that that would be the end of Tommy Shelby. But now he'd shown up at her door...when she was expecting her brother.
"Where's my brother?" (Y/N) asked, looking to either side of the doorway, hoping that Alfie would be close by.
He wasn't.
"He's busy," Tommy answered.
"So he sent you?" she asked, her brows furrowed.
"Not exactly," he shook his head.
"I'm not understanding what you're saying. Ollie told me that he'd take a note down for Alfie and that he'd inform him as soon as he became available." (Y/N) was confused now.
"I saw the note," he began, "took it upon myself to see what was needed to be discussed."
(Y/N)'s jaw just about dropped. "Tommy, why did you...would you, you shouldn't, you..."
"My name was on the note, love," he cut off her attempt to string words together.
"Just because it was on the note does not mean you were to be involved!" she couldn't stop her voice from raising, her eyes widening as she spoke. Now she was wondering how Ollie had phrased his note to Alfie. A few beats passed before a sigh escaped her lips. She ran a frustrated hand across her face before asking, "what...what did the note say?" Her thoughts had gotten the best of her.
"It said that you needed to speak about Shelby...had some information you wanted to be made known," he answered her, his eyes boring into hers. (Y/N) opened her mouth to say something but he didn't let her, taking a step inside, making her back up in the process. "What is it you wanted to tell him, hmm?"
His close proximity made her heartrate increase. She was quickly losing her ability to think. "Tommy, I..."
"What really was your goal last night, (Y/N)?" he asked her, his brows raising.
The willpower to keep her hands by her sides and not reach out to take hold of him was leaving (Y/N) by the second.
"I thought your intentions aligned with mine..." he trailed off, raising his hand so that he could run it down her jawline in a slow, teasing manner, "at least it seemed that way when you brought me back here."
Instead of dropping his hand when he reached her chin, he grasped it; taking it between his thumb and index finger so that he could raise her fleeing eyes to match his. This action made the breath get caught in (Y/N)'s throat, and every valid argument left her mind the second her eyes locked onto his icy blue ones. All hope was lost now.
"What are your intentions with me, (Y/N)?" he asked her.
"You know them, Tommy, I.." she couldn't quite string a thought together.
"Tell me."
"I.." she paused again, interally freaking out. Think of something, anything, (Y/N), come on! "I wanted to tell him about you...about us," she decided on telling him a lie, hoping that he would take it as the truth.
"Yeah?"
She couldn't decipher what he was truly thinking from his one word response. His widened eyes didn't help either, other than making her fall deeper into his trap with each second that passed. Now she was wracking her brain to think of ways to sell this.
The last thing she wanted to tell him was that she was going to sell him out...to tell Alfie what she felt his true intentions were.
"Yeah," she breathed, nodding her head as much as she could with his fingers still holding her chin. Sell it, (Y/N)!, her mind screamed before she raised her hands up to grip his lapels. All coherent thoughts flew out the window as she leaned in and kissed him.
This wasn't a loving kiss. It wasn't a slow one, unlike the ones they shared last night. She kissed him hard, hoping that the passion she put into it would be enough to get his mind off of the damn note and seal her lie for good.
His hold tightened on her chin, but he didn't break the kiss. In fact, his other hand moved from his side to her hip, where he began bunching up her skirt in order to make contact with her bare skin.
Success.
(Y/N) also became absorbed by the passion that they both were showing. It was hard not to given the fact that he was Tommy Shelby. The night they shared was one of the best she'd ever had. Conniving business man or not, she would remember it for the rest of her life.
"What in the bloody fucking hell is going on here?!"
What (Y/N) did not remember before getting sucked into this situation was to shut the door to her home.
Her eyes shot open and she became frantic, trying to break the kiss and move away from Tommy as quick as she could. "Alfie!" she shrieked, surprise clear on her face.
"Why're you fucking kissing my sister, mate?!" Alfie asked Tommy, speaking with a seething anger.
While (Y/N) was just about shaking from the shock of her brother showing up, Tommy didn't seem to be phased.
"Alfie he...he was just..."
"No," Alfie cut (Y/N) off, shaking his head and stopping her attempt to cover for the man now standing beside her, "I asked him not you. He knows family is off-fucking-limits, so I want him to answer me why."
Tommy said nothing. (Y/N) shrunk into herself more and more with each passing second. She'd never seen Alfie this angry.
"I said fucking answer me!" Alfie bellowed, drawing the revolver he had tucked into his waistband. He wasted no time in cocking it and holding it in Tommy's face.
Tommy still didn't move; didn't even flinch.
"You're going to fucking answer me," Alfie demanded, his voice low and menacing, "yeah, you're going to fucking answer me or it'll be your fucking brains blown out all over (Y/N)'s fucking foyer."
"Alfie, don't," (Y/N) begged her brother, reaching a shaky hand out in hopes that he would see it and lower his weapon.
"She called for you," Tommy spoke, his voice level and stoic.
"She fucking what?" Alfie asked, his brows furrowing slightly, confused by why Tommy was saying this.
“She called your office. You weren’t around. But my name was on the note,” Tommy shared more details.
“And what does that have fucking anything to do with you fucking kissing my sister?!” Alfie’s anger had returned.
“It has everything to do with it,” Tommy was still level-headed. “You see, she was going to tell you about this, about us,” he then dropped the bomb, motioning between himself and (Y/N) to emphasize the point he was making.
“I can explain,” (Y/N) was quick to blurt out, her eyes trained on the gun in Alfie’s hand, which he’d - thankfully - lowered from being aimed at Tommy’s head.
She couldn’t read the look in her brother’s eyes. The seconds felt like hours as they passed. She stood frozen as Alfie rose the revolver again and…….
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Ok I’m evil, I know but……..
Don’t fret, if the poll’s closed by the time you’re reading this, you’re still more than welcome (and I’d encourage you, actually) to share what you think would happen next!!
p.s….this story won’t be getting continued. I’m just curious as to what y’all think.
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MASTERLIST
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Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21
@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings
@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry
@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @mischievouslittlecreature @stevie75
@lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick
@dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety
@justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader
@red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife
@ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby
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hottpinkpenguin · 6 months ago
Note
Hey 😊 if your still taking requests for the peakys. Could I please ask for Alfie Solomons with A "ask me to stay" and D "dark secret" female reader. Thanks 💗💗
A/n: that's a wrap on Peaky Blinders requests from June!!! thx to all the lovelies who participated <3
The Wall Between Them - Alfie Solomons X Fem!Reader
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Word Count: 2362 Content warnings: Domestic violence, reader murders the abuser, abuse, violence, blood/gore, protective Alfie, can't-be-vulnerable Alfie, trying-his-best Alfie, hints of soft!Alfie?
Her hands shook so violently it was a wonder she didn’t drop the pistol. If anyone had been watching the scene before them, they would have credited a guardian angel for guiding the bullet straight to his chest despite the treacherous wobble of the gun. Her eyes were closed when she pulled the trigger, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the blood from her mouth. 
He fell like a sack of bricks. One minute he was lunging towards her, eyes trained on the pistol. A cold fear seized his heart as he saw the terror in her gaze melt away to black rage. All those whiskey beatings, harsh words and hateful years had backfired on him. Then, in the next instant, he died to the ear-splitting sound of a gunshot. 
The silence that followed was so loud she swore it would crush her. The walls around her seemed to be holding their breath. Was he really dead? Did she really pull the trigger? 
She didn’t let herself exhale until she saw a pool of blood - darker than she’d imagined it would be - staining the floorboards underneath him. She dropped the pistol; it landed with a heavy thud at her feet moments before her knees folded on themselves as if made of twigs. She pitched sideways, letting the hallway wall brace her fall as she deflated under the weight of realization. She knew in that moment that it didn’t matter how many times he’d hit her. The ghastly bruises and scars he’d left etched in her skin, the nights her mind had divorced itself from her battered body and wandered the halls like a ghost, the mangled monster he’d grown into… none of it mattered. All that others would see was a dead husband and a living wife with motive, means, and a guilty conscience. Even dead, that horrid man was imprisoning her.
She knew there was only one person who could get her out of this. And so, she wiped the blood from her rapidly swelling lip, picked up the pistol and slipped it into the deep pocket of her apron, and tied up the escaped strands of hair. It had been almost seven years since she’d seen Alfie Solomons, but she still knew exactly where to find him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Boss, there’s a lady here to see you.” 
Alfie barely heard Jack’s murmured comment above the jeer of the crowd. The Irishman was swaying unsteadily on his feet in the pen after taking a nasty round of hits to his right ear. Alfie could see his ear filling with blood. A busted eardrum, likely. Circling opposite him, the burly Hungarian Alfie knew as The Red Devil was snarling proudly as he surveyed his quarry. 
“Fuckin’ finish him!” Alfie called out, lifting a wad of bills in the air like a signal fire. The fight was fixed of course, and Alfie had fixed it. The Red Devil was turning into quite a lucrative investment, but his penchant for theatrics was tiring to Alfie. He preferred a quick win, efficient and clean. 
“Boss?” Jack edged slightly closer, waiting for Alfie’s orders.
“Hm?”
“A lady, boss. There’s a lady here to see you. Asked for you by name.”
“Didn’t book a whore tonight,” Alfie replied simply, waving Jack off as The Red Devil moved in on the Irishman, holding the dazed man’s head as he drove his knee up into the exposed forehead until the bell rang to signal the end of the fight. The crowd erupted into a mix of appreciative cheers, boos, and cries to settle up or place new bets as another pair of fighters moved to the edge of the pen. 
“Don’t think she’s a whore, boss. Looks like a respectable lady. Bit beat up though.” 
Alfie fixed Jack with an incredulous stare. He wasn’t accustomed to his men pressing him on trivial issues like this. Especially not on a fight night. Jack flinched imperceptibly; he was well-acquainted with Alfie’s anger and bore a nasty half-moon scar the framed his left eye from being pistol-whipped after pressing Alfie’s limits. Alfie almost moved to strike him, until something about Jack’s words and the odd look in his eyes plucked at something. 
“She give a name?”
Jack shook his head, eyes glued to the ground. “No. All she said was you were ol’ friends. Childhood friends, I think she said.”
It couldn’t be. Alfie shook his head as if trying to shake out the thought. But, then again, there was only one person he’d ever met who’d claim him as a friend. 
“Beat up, you say?”
Jack nodded. “Lip’s split and she got a shiner.”
A memory flickered across Alfie’s mind. He hadn’t seen her in years, but the last time he had, she’d had a ring of purple and green bruises around her neck. She’d tried to hide it under a high collar dress, but Alfie had her pressed up against the wall of his office, their lips devouring each other, and he hadn’t missed the way she winced when he let his hand slide down the side of her neck on its way to undo the line of buttons at the front of her dress. He knew who’d done it and didn’t need her to say a damn thing. If she hadn’t begged him on her knees - her goddamn knees - to spare that pathetic man’s life, Alfie Solomons would have gutted him nice and slow. 
He hadn’t seen her since. She’d stopped writing, stopped answering her own front door, stopped going to the butcher shop below where Alfie kept a small apartment. He’d had her on every surface of that apartment, rabid with hunger for anything she’d give him. Then she’d just vanished. Told him she was due to be married, couldn’t carry on with him anymore. Alfie knew there’d been a silent request buried in her words. He’d heard her ask it with her eyes. Ask me to marry you, and I’ll leave him. Alfie cursed himself every day for letting that moment slip by like water on rocks. He wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to love someone now then he was back then, but in his quiet moments he wondered if maybe he could have figured it out with her, if only he’d been willing to take that chance.
“Boss? Boss, what do you want me to tell ‘er?” 
The sound of the bell announcing the start of another match jarred Alfie loose from his reminiscences. 
“Nothin’. I’ll talk to ‘er.”
Jack eyed him with surprise, but quickly smoothed the spark of interest out of his features rather than risk another scar from his mercurial boss. He’d never known Alfie Solomons to pause his dealings for a woman. Something about her must have been special. Jack followed his boss out of the smoky, cacophonous warehouse and towards the back of the building where Alfie kept his offices. 
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Alfie felt his fingers dig into the wood of his desk as she stepped out of the shadowy corner of his office and into the soft halo glow of his desk lamp. Her lip was split, blood dried on her chin, and one of her luminous eyes was swollen shut. Murder ripped through Alfie’s blood at the sight of her. 
“Before you say anything, Alfie, he’s dead.”
Her voice sounded different, thin and strained, like someone had scooped out her soul leaving nothing but an echo behind.
“He sure fuckin’ is.” Alfie was shaking he was so bloodthirsty. He couldn’t look at her and risk losing himself. How could it still be so fresh, he wondered, after seven long years?
“No, that’s not what I meant… Alfie, I-, I killed him. I shot him.”
A different man might have been horrified, or maybe even a little impressed. Alfie was none of that. Instead, he felt himself pitch forward over the lip of a hole of despair. 
His voice cracked when he ordered Jack and the rest of the boys out of the office. Once the door closed behind them, she sank down into one of the leather-backed chairs across the desk from him. Desperate to be close to her lest she splinter to pieces, Alfie rounded the desk to perch against its edge, stretching his long legs away from her in an attempt to give her space. She hardly looked up at him. 
“What did he fuckin’ do to you?” Barely more than a whisper. Alfie was glad the light was too dim for her to see that he was treacherously close to tears.
She looked up at him, shocked. Her one good eye gleamed at him. 
“Alfie, did you hear me? I killed him.”
He nodded, swallowing thickly. Alfie was full of tender urges and gentle feelings, but his mouth couldn’t seem to give them words or noise. All he knew was harshness and violence. It was the same wall that had kept him from reaching out for her hand and telling her all the things he felt the last night he’d seen her. Here he was, so close he could smell her lavender soap but his affection locked away so tightly and deeply that he couldn’t force himself to touch it even if he tried.
“Nothin’ he didn’t deserve,” he grunted brusquely after a few moments. He dropped his gaze, unable to tolerate the sight of her face bruised and misshapen. He noticed her hands were trembling in her lap. “What do you need, darlin’?”
She stifled a small sob at the sound of the pet name he’d reserved for her. 
“He’s still-... the body, I- I don’t know… I guess-”
“It’s done. Write down your address.” Alfie handed her a pen and paper, watched as she struggled to mark the street name and number legibly. Her knuckles were bruised, he noted with a twisted pang of pride and pain. She’d been fighting back, he realized. All alone these last seven years. And he’d let her. He’d stopped fighting to get to her. Let her close herself off to him. Let himself close off to her. And now, it wasn’t until she’d been pushed to the brink - maybe past it - that she’d come to him, and only because she knew that when violence and darkness was needed, Alfie could do it. But he couldn’t do the other things, the harder things. Like love her, protect her, tirelessly fight for her. 
She tore off the page and handed it to Alfie. He took it without looking at the writing, strode over the door and excused himself from the office. He thrust the paper into Jack’s hands. 
“Take care of it, Jackie. No loose ends, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ rip you limb from limb if it ain’t done right.” 
He didn’t give Jack or the others time to argue or ask questions before he slammed the door as a dismissal and strode back to her. He reached for her, needing to feel her warmth under his fingertips just to prove she was here. She flinched instinctively, sending Alfie deeper into self-loathing.
“Do they know-”
“It’s done, darlin’. It’s taken care of.” 
Alfie poured himself a glass of whiskey, drunk it down in one gulp, and poured another. 
“Alfie…” 
Her voice was so soft and yearning it broke Alfie in two. He turned to face her. Gods she looked perfect. 
“It ain’t fuckin’ happenin’ again.” The most solemn promise he’d ever made. 
She recoiled from him as if slapped. It took him a half moment to process why. 
“I ain’t lettin’ anyone hurt you. Ever again, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ burn the world and every hateful man with it, it don’t matter.” It was all Alfie could find the words to say. 
Finally understanding his meaning, he watched her relax in the chair. She eyed him without saying a thing, a strange expression on her face. 
“I don’t want that, Alfie,” she replied softly. “I don’t want any more death. I don’t want to see someone hurt ever again. I just… I just want…” 
Her words trailed off into the quiet. Neither of them knew where the end of that sentence would lead. The space between them stretched and morphed until it felt like an ocean separating them. Strange, that two people who both wanted so desperately to be with each other could feel so far away.
“Don’t set any fires on my account, Alfie.” She rose from her chair and walked towards him, taking the glass out of Alfie’s hand and downing the whiskey with a wince. “Just ask me to stay.” 
Alfie felt his heart run headlong into that same old wall that always kept them apart. Here she was, the only woman who’d ever mattered, literally giving him the words she wanted to hear. And all that Alfie’s tongue wanted to say was more promises of vengeance, of violence in her name, of destruction. 
She watched him struggle, her gaze even but tired. 
“Ask me to stay, Alfie. That’s all I need.”
The openness those words threatened to expose in Alfie Solomons felt like a lit bomb nestled in the cage of his ribs. He choked on the air in his lungs. Come on, you fucker, he thought viciously as he struggled to press back on the urge to run. 
She watched and waited. Each moment, her shoulders sagged a bit more.
“Stay.”
It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, and Alfie spat the word out as if it had poison between its letters. But was it close enough? 
Her heart thought so. She felt a softness take root there, a shred of hope. 
Yes, it was enough. 
She gave Alfie Solomons a soft smile. The way he crumbled at the sight told her enough about his feelings for her. Even if he couldn’t put them into words, she could see the love that she was so desperate to excavate from wherever he stored away the fragile parts of himself.
“That’s enough,” she told him sweetly, lifting a hand to cradle the side of his face. For the first time in seven years, she let herself relax into a man’s touch as Alfie’s fingers found hers…
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muneca-lemon-steppa · 7 months ago
Note
hello!!! hope you’re doing great, I kinda wanna ask about Thomas x Sister Shelby if you do that ? And if you do I’m thinking she’d be smart, has a very quick tongue and she wants to get out of the Shelby business to marry the love of her life (alfie😝😍) so she fakes her death and ofc everyone is distraught and angry than after a few years Thomas sees alfie at his home and than comes his sister who he thought had died and he berates her than she says something like you’re a worse person than me always killing for money like he can’t live without a war. Also I am in the mood for a very angst ending
A/N: Hello my love! How are you doing? I am so so sorry that this has taken forever. Truthfully, I had no clue how to do this. I thought about this long an hard, and though some things I switched up, I hope you enjoy this. I feel like this got me to stretch my writing muscles, and it was really fun. Let me know what you think darling!
Run Away With Me Darling
Alfie Solomons x Fem! Reader; 3.8k words; fluff, angst
Warnings: language, contentious family relationships, arranged marriage???
It started innocently enough.
You bringing tea and biscuits to meeting rooms where the men started their schemes. Listening and taking notes alongside your ever watchful Aunt Polly. Sneaking glances at the big brute in the chair across from your big brothers.
“Thank you treacle. Yeah that’s real kind of you.”
That brute is the only man that would say thank you for the tea you bring by. And when you go to pour more for him, he’s the only man who says, “No need for that darling. Grown men can pour their own tea yeah?”
It wasn’t meant to be anything more than professional. But you should’ve known. Known from that first encounter outside those Shelby walls… you and Mr. Solomons shared a single soul… and heaven nor hell could keep you from each other’s grasp.
It was hot. London is not a tropical city by any means. But the sheer amount of bodies, activity, and warm rain, had transformed the city into a sauna. The wisps of your hair along your neck and forehead are plastered to your body. Rivulets of sweat sneak down your chest. The heat could only be described as oppressive. You were counting down the steps till you could go home.
On the one hand… it was strange having a home all to yourself. Truthfully, it was the Shelby homestead in London, where the family would stay when business needed attending to. However, when they all left, you stayed. Carrying delicate messages. Keeping a close pulse on the going’s on of the city. And perhaps most importantly… remaining a pretty show pony for the Shelby family.
You hated to admit it. But you were desperately jealous of Ada. She had the guts to sneak past Arthur, Tommy, and John. She had the foresight to marry her true love before Tommy could marry her off to the highest bidder. You had no such luck. No childhood love. No sweetheart to campaign for. The boys had made sure of it. Despite Ada and your protests, and Polly’s discrete ploys; Tommy had decided. The sweet, pure, and innocent youngest Shelby girl will be auctioned off to the richest and most lucrative partner for the Shelby Company. And she will remain pretty and docile. A prize.
The mere thought made your stomach twist and churn and burn.
You loved them. Your family. More than most love their family. But you could barely breathe under their watch. Even in another city you felt the reach of their eyes. Felt the whisperings of potential matches for your hand and womb. The sweat on your brow burned your eyes. Taking place of the unshed tears you long abandoned.
All you longed for was cold water. A cool bath. Anything to scrub off the sweat and dirt and exhaustion. However, shade covered your front door, casting a shadow over the threshold.
“Sweetheart! Been waiting a bit for you!”
No matter where you see Mr. Solomons, he seems to take up all the space. You don’t know how he is able to stand the heat, with his coat and hat and bushy beard. But he looks unfettered. Cool even. You finally felt the kiss of the breeze on your neck as you approached.
“Mr. Solomons. How can I help you?”
“You going to invite me in like a good girl?”
“I’m not in the business of inviting strange men into my home.”
“You think me strange?”
“Oh Mr. Solomons you are the strangest man I’ve ever met.”
“Makes you a little excited though don’t it? A hint of danger yeah? Big brute standing at your door.”
You stuck your chin out, staring directly into his stormy eyes. “I’m not afraid of you Mr. Solomons.”
His mouth quirks up in the corner. A twinkle in his eyes, and your breath hitched as he leaned into your space, “Oh I know sweet. You ain’t like the others ain’t ya? I saw it… the first time I laid eyes on you I knew you were different. Those boys… cold blooded little snakes… you… nah… there’s a flame in you treacle…and I look forward to see you set things aflame.”
Before you could respond in any way, he leaned away, smiling at your response. He pulled out an envelope from his coat and handed it to you, “Contract and information for your devious brother my sweet. Don’t worry, put a little something in there for you too for your trouble.”
You snatched the envelope from his hand. Unsure of how to respond to his… behavior. His rumbling laugh set a shiver down your spine, but you pushed it down as you appraised him, “This seems below your job description… don’t you have messenger boys?”
He further smirked, “I hope you’ll forgive me, that I want to keep you to myself.”
“I’m not a kept girl.”
“That you are not. Just have to inform your brothers of the fact don’t you?”
Hot shame rose in your cheeks. The envelope in your hands crinkling sharply. You felt the cool brush of gold rings on your cheek, “I have a standing dinner every Thursday evening. Let it be our little secret, hmm?”
Before you could react, a coarse kiss is pressed to your knuckles. As he started walking away, you called out, “And if I don’t show up? What then?”
He turned, with a boyish smile, “You’re not a kept woman treacle. Not my business. I’ll just send my messenger boys in my place.”
That was a year ago. Things were so simple then. Secret dinners. Secret mornings. Secret dalliances and outings around town. And when the family came to town, you placed that mask back on. Sweet, innocent, and docile Shelby girl. Ready at the beck and call of her family. And when they left, you ran right into the arms of Alfie. Because where it all started as something to feel disobedient, it grew into something deeper and more ancient. You felt your soul intertwine with his, as if it was always searching for him. In the evenings when he whispered his love for you and kept you close, you had never felt safer. Never felt more alive.
But dreams are not forever. Sooner or later the bubble must pop.
“You’ll need to come back to Birmingham dearest.”
“For how long?”
Everyone looked up at Tommy. Tommy didn’t even look up from his dinner plate, “Permanently. I’ve got a husband for you.”
Your fork dropped. Your heart stopped beating.
You faintly hear Aunt Polly call your name.
“Husband?” You whispered.
Tommy sighed, “That is what I said. High time you married, you’re old enough. Mr. Gorman has multiple factories both here and in the states, and his son is set to inherit them all. It’s a good match, it’ll be very beneficial to the company.”
“Tommy I don’t even know him.”
“You have your entire life to get to know him. Now finish your dinner.”
“So you just decided is that it? You just decided to that I’d belong to some man? Tell me Tommy… how much did you sell me off for? How much is my womb worth?”
“Watch your mouth!” Polly hissed, with Arthur wincing at the cutting words.
“I’m not going.” You stood from your chair. Preparing for battle.
“It’s not up for discussion.”
“I’m not going! You cannot make me!”
Tommy rose from his seat, John putting his head in his hands with Arthur knocking back a drink. Low. Deadly. Tommy always could command a room with his voice. Cold finger pointing at you like a deadly weapon. “You will do as you’re told. This is not about you. This is about the family. In a week, I will come fetch you. I will drag you back to Birmingham if I have to. And you will marry the young Mr. Gorman, and you will have as many of his fucking babies as he chooses. You will be rich. You will be safe. And you will be set. I am not about to argue with a child.”
You felt the tears well up in your eyes. Sorrow. Mourning. Hatred. “I hate you Thomas Shelby. I hate you.”
“You will get over it.”
You ran to your room. Weeping the rest of the night.
Because how can your body and name be given to a man, when your heart and soul belonged to another?
They left the next morning. Arthur knocking on your door to announce the departure, and trying to convince you, “He’s a good lad darling. Trust Tommy alright? Wouldn’t let nothing bad happen to ya, even though it seems like right shit. Don’t be too angry at us. We’ll all still be close. And anyway… it’s what’s good for the family.”
You didn’t look at him. Not even a hum of acknowledgment when he kissed your hair tenderly. A regretful sigh leaves his body as Arthur walked away, taking one last look at your quivering body on your maiden bed. Arthur always had a soft spot for you. Always defensive for you unlike your other siblings. He had tried in vain to get Tommy to rethink the arrangement. You didn't need to get married. The company didn't need such an alliance. They'd get by as they always have. But Tommy's sights were set much higher. He wanted that name of honor. And to get it, he was willing to play by the rules of old money. Tommy had convinced Arthur enough. Enough that you'd eventually forgive them all.
The orange sky illuminated your bedroom in a bloody hue. Your throat dry and head hot and pounding. The creaking and settling of the house had become a steady ring in your ears, you didn't even hear the bedroom door open.
"Treacle. What are you doing? Eden said you haven't left since last night. You ill?"
Maids hear everything, you think bitterly. But you couldn't be too cross with Eden. Not really.
"He's done it Alfie."
Alfie toed off his boots after the hat and coat. Sinking into the too ornate duvet. "Who treacle? What happened?"
You faced him, deep creases of the duvet threads divide your hot wet cheeks. Lashes clumped together and soaked. "Tommy... he... he finally did it. He's married me off. In a weeks time I'm to belong to some... Mr. Gorman. His father owns factories, and I suppose that's enough for my bride price."
You feel your body being gently tugged up and into Alfie’s embrace. Despite any protest from you about how it may affect his back, he shushes you instantly, “Now now my little dove. Nah you ain’t going back to Birmingham. You ain’t getting married to some prick. Nah you’re staying here with ol’ Alfie.”
You force your face under his chin, letting his unkempt beard absorb your sobs, “No Alfie it’s true! Tommy told me yesterday at dinner! He… he’s taking me away Alfie! I hate him. I hate him so much. I don’t want to marry some man I don’t even know!”
“I already told you darling, you’re not going to! It’s not happening.”
You push his shoulder, “You’re not listening to me! Tommy said-“
“I don’t give a shit what Tommy said! You’re not marrying the shit because you’re marrying me!”
Like an unpracticed magician, he pulled out a gorgeous diamond and sapphire ring. Its glimmer and fractals made it look as endless as the night sky. You felt the breath in your lungs catch, anger and fear simmering down and cooling. You dared not touch something to precious, “Alfie Solomons…”
“Was my mother’s. Gave it to me when I came back from the war. On her death bed. Made me swear that I wouldn’t give it up for any pretty girl on the street. Had to give it to the one.”
You struggled to meet his gaze, “And I-“
“The one treacle. If you’ll have me.”
He shifted you in his lap, fully facing him, “Now… I had a whole event planned out. Garden stroll. Drinks. Music playing. And I know I’m a sorry old monster and you have loads of suitor-“
“Alfie-“
“But I swear on my life treacle, you’ll never want for anything. You will have freedom to do whatever you would hope to do. We’ll go anywhere. I’ll love you till the stars go out-“
“Alfie! Yes! Yes yes yes! I’ll marry you! You silly old man!”
You pushed him back and kissed him fiercely. With all the passion you had been hiding from your family for years. Until the acidic burn of reality came down, “But what about Tommy? Alfie you hate each other, he’ll never let me go.”
Rough hands running up and down your thighs, gazing in awe at the fiery halo surrounding you. “I was willing to go in and threaten blessing or death.”
“I won’t have you put in danger for love. This isn’t Shakespeare.”
With a laugh and kiss to your fingertips he whispers, “You got any ideas? I’m all ears.”
You try to think, but kept coming across a wall. Any option you thought of ended in bloodshed. You fell into the bed next to Alfie, curling into his chest, “I wish we could just run away.”
His arms tighten around you, “What if we did?”
It would happen three days before Tommy would come to fetch you. You dismissed Eden with an oath to secrecy, and for four days you played the part of excited bride to be. Purchasing things for a new marital home, a wedding dress and new wardrobe. Who cares if the detail of the lucky husband was slightly off?
Whenever your family called, you lied happily through your smiling teeth. At first you felt a twinge of guilt. But in the end, they stood by as your brothers sold you off. They lost the right to the truth. They hated Alfie, said as much any time they came to the house. They would never understand. They would never allow it. But this was your life. And you would be damned before you were cleaved from your beloved.
The men from the distillery made regular visits to the house in the middle of the night, picking up your things to take to Margate, dropping off love letters and updates from Alfie. With each passing day, your heart became lighter. The binds lessening. Freedom was right on your tongue.
Three days before Tommy, Arthur, and John are to pick you up, the horrific news explodes through Birmingham. The Shelby home in London: set ablaze. No survivors. The beautiful bride, burned alongside her wedding dress hanging in the window. The youngest Shelby girl, an angel amongst demons, taken too soon from the earth from a horrific accident. The fire so destructive, not even a body is there for a proper burial. Just ash and a memory of that sweet face. The funeral is horrible. Wailing and weeping from all of Birmingham. Aunt Polly could barely keep it together, blaming Tommy for it all. Even business acquaintances from London and beyond come to pay their respects. The most shocking visitor, was Mr. Solomons, who paid for the funeral itself, “I’m sorry Tommy for your loss. I really am. She was a sweet girl. But… she’s in a better place I’m sure.”
And what a better place that is. White washed home right on the beach, windows open at all times, with the sea breeze billowing pristine gossamer curtains in the wind. You spend your days reading and writing to your heart’s content, strolling the beach, playing with Cyril like a child. As Alfie settles affairs in Camden during the week, he visits during the weekend, serving and worshipping you like a goddess. He never gave you information about the family. You didn’t want it. That was your old life. A you that you couldn’t recognize. Here, in this life, you were free. Free to speak. Free to argue and give your mind.
After a month, Alfie permanently moves to Margate. Home. Retired from the gangster life with enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life, with more than enough to comfort when he’s gone.
And the years pass blissfully. Just how it was in the beginning. Kisses and dancing and laughter and arguing and love and joy. 3 years of absolute heaven, you had nearly forgotten how it all was almost taken from you.
But the past does have a way of rearing its ugly head doesn’t it?
It’s the dawn of summer. The final kisses of spring bringing crisp clean air through your marital home. Alfie had never felt better. The pain in his body had long left him, only flaring during the coldest evenings. The dark circles under his eyes have dissolved. His face and body, fuller, firmer with the glowing health of a man at peace who works for life not death. You were upstairs, searching for the a particular spool of thread you had been working with for a blanket you had spent days on. But it needed to be done soon. Alfie shifted through the records you both had been collecting. Symphonies had become his special interest in the recent months, and he was looking for a particular composition that he felt would make your heart sing.
The heavy knock on the door sent the hair on his neck stand at attention.
Only one demon knocked like that.
His eyes shifted to the stairs. He could still hear you moving things around. Searching tirelessly for that spool. You’d be missing for a couple minutes. Enough to rebuke the vile creature from the door without your discovery.
With a deep breath, Alfie tries to remember the armor of his past. The Mad Baker. Just as another round of knocks was about to come, Alfie opened roughly, “Tommy! What are you doing here? Gates of hell need their master don’t they?”
He looked thinner than normal. It’s been years since the men had seen each other, but the difference was still shocking. Those icey blue eyes even more haunting than they were at the funeral. Gaunt cheeks and pale skin made him look like a living corpse. A flicker of a flame winked behind those eyes. Hope for another fight. Something to set him aflame. “Hello Alfie. Enjoying retirement?”
“Yeah actually I am so whatever you have up your sleeve I want no part in it so if you’ll just fuck off.”
Before Alfie could slam the door, Tommy stuck his foot in the door, “Not that simple Alfie. Worlds gone to shit and it needs Solomons to set it to right.”
“Your world not mine. Now get out.”
“I’m not going to leave until you let me in Alfie.”
Your angelic voice danced on the breeze down to the front door, “I found it! Alfie you would not believe where it was! I swear I’m losing my mind.”
Tommy’s face some how went paler. As if he heard Satan’s whisper of condemnation. Alfie tried to push the door closed, but with the strength of a mad man Tommy pushed past the threshold.
Tommy almost fainted.
This must be hell.
He must have died.
It’s the only rational idea.
God chose to lock him in the home of his biggest agitation, with the ghost of his dead baby sister.
But this couldn’t be your ghost. Your swollen belly proves this.
“Holy shit.” You drop the tea cup in your hands when you see Tommy. Tommy who wasn’t supposed to be here. Tommy who saw you buried and dead.
Alfie rushes in, pulling you behind his broad frame. Through his linen shirt, you feel the ragged breath and hammering heart of your husband. You feel faint. “Tommy… you need to leave right now.”
“You paid for the funeral.”
“Tommy we can do this later but you need to get out right now. I’m asking nicely.”
“You knew she was alive… you knew.”
“She is very delicate right now she does not need any excitement.”
“You fucking made her delicate! You compromised her you fucking bastard!”
You cried out as Tommy lunged for your husband, “Stop it Tommy! Enough! Get out of my house!”
Tommy stumbled, pointing at you, “You… you’re fucking sick. You’re demented! You caused Polly a near heart attack. You are disgusting!”
You push past Alfie, who is left watching, “I’m disgusting! You sold me off to some man. And for what? To get people to see you as a big man? Guess what Tommy, you will NEVER be good enough for them! They’ll always see people like us as trash! But you don’t care. Anything to get ahead right?! You’ll stoop as low as you need to ahead.”
Tommy laughed bitterly, holding back the urge to spit, “And what about you yeah? So spoiled that you throw the biggest tantrum of the century. Whore yourself out to the Mad Baker, and get knocked up with his bastard.”
“I’d stop talking if I were you Tommy.”, Alfie snarled darkly. Fists curling in. Like a wolf ready to devour.
“I’d rather be his whore than be a part of any family of yours. You can’t leave well enough alone. Murdering and slaughtering for some honor so quick to tarnish and fade away. You tried to lock me away, never taking a care to what I wanted or thought. But you can’t do that to me anymore. I’m a Solomons, and I carry his child. You can’t touch me.”
Tommy settled, steel washed over his face. “They have a right to know.”
“You all have a right to nothing. I’ll see the family when I’m good and ready.”
His eyes shift to Alfie, “You are evil incarnate. You are cursed.”
No sign of mirth reaches Alfie’s eyes when he smirks, “Careful Tommy. You know what they say about curses. Especially when you curse family.”
Without another word, Tommy storms out. As soon as the door slams, shaking the lamps, you let out the breath in your heavy lungs, “Holy Shit”.
Your knees give out from under you, and cold shakes roll through your body. Alfie grabbed your body, helping you into a chair. “Settle my love it’s alright he’s gone. What do you need? Baby ok?”
“No I’m ok thank you my love. I just… I need air. I can’t believe he came here. He knows. They all know.”
“Hush darling, breathe for me, settle your nerves, you don’t need to worry. They know but they can’t touch you. You’re my wife and they can’t get to you. You are your own woman. You are safe.”
“But what are we going to do. What if they come?”
“Then we’ll deal with them. I’ll have some boys come in, set up a watch. We won’t be caught off guard ever again.”
You nodded. Trusting the words of your husband. You felt an affirming kick in your ribs. The rushing of your heart. You had paradise for three years. You couldn’t run forever, no matter how far you got. The bell had finally tolled, and it was time to face it.
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teddy06writes · 8 months ago
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Much Ado About Nothing
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Alfie Solomons x fem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking,
Premise: It's a Much Ado About Nothing AU, with Alfie as Benedick and Reader as Beatrice
Useful links: click here for a plot summary of the play, here for access to a version w/David Tennant and Katherine Tate, here for a proshot of a production at the Globe, and here for a wonderful video essay that discusses the plot and has a very insightful tangent about Judaism in Shakespeare.
{I've got a lot going on right now what with the production I'm in being in tech, plus even if I'm doing a simplified version of this, it's still quite a bit of work to go through the script bit by bit, I've decided that I'm going to just release the bit that I have done, and then if people really want more I'll do it in parts}
{Most dialogue is either directly quoted or paraphrased directly from the original text}
It was a beautiful day in the seaside town of Margate, and for the first time in years, you and your family were finally able to enjoy it. The war had been over for months, and with the arrival of spring, it felt like the world was finally alive again.
You were out lounging on the veranda with your cousin Esme, and her friend Ada, enjoying the fresh air when you heard footsteps coming down the gravel driveway. Esme sat up, in her deck chair, "Are we expecting company?"
"I didn't think so." You frowned.
Ada was already at the railing, peering around to try and make out who it was, "I don't recognize him- but he is wearing an army uniform!"
Esme let out a squeal, all but jumping up out of her chair and rushing over to look over Ada's shoulder. You let out a groan, reaching for your drink.
It only took a few moments for your uncle, Johnny Dogs to come bursting out onto the veranda, a letter in hand, and followed closely by Polly and the messenger Ada had seen, "I've learned, in this letter, that Tommy Shelby and his unit are coming to Margate, this very night!"
Esme let out another squeal, quickly chattering away to Ada, filling her in on the events of the Unit's last stop in Margate just before the war.
"He was very near by this," The messenger offered, "They were just getting into town when I left them."
Johnny Dogs nodded, "And how many gentlemen did you lose in this- action?"
"Our unit seems to oppose the rest of the war: we lost few of sort and none of name." The messenger said proudly. This prompted another little burst of excitement from Esme.
"A victory is twice itself when the achievers return home in full number."
Johnny aimed a pointed look at her, reading a bit more from the letter, "It says here, that Tommy has bestowed much honor on his younger brother John."
You chuckled as Esme went bright red, practically glaring back across the veranda with the look of someone caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by the Sergeant Major. He bore himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion. He has indeed better bettered expectation than you must expect me to tell you." The messenger excepted the drink offered to him.
You pulled yourself up out of your chair, "I pray you, has signor Mountanto returned from the war, or no?"
The messenger turned to you with a frown, "I know none by that name, Lady."
"My cousin means that Captain Solomons from Camden town." Esme spoke up, glad the attention was finally gone from her and her crush.
"Oh, he's returned and as pleasant as ever."
You let off a scoff, "I pray you, how many has he killed and eaten in this war? How many has he killed, for I have sworn to eat all his killing."
"Niece, you tax Mr. Solomons too much." Johnny Dogs scolded.
Polly chuckled from where she'd taken up your empty chair, "But he'll meet with you, I have no doubt."
The messenger still focused on you, "He has done good service in the war, lady."
You raised an eyebrow, "You had stale food, and he helped you eat it. He's a very brave eater. He has good stomach for it."
"And a good soldier, too, Lady."
"And a good soldier to a lady," You shot back, "But what is he too a lord?"
"A lord to a lord, a man to a man, stuffed with all honorable virtues."
"It is so indeed," You nodded, punctuating your words with a sip from your drink, "He is no less than a stuffed man. but for the stuffing- well, we are all mortal."
"You must not mistake my niece, sir," Johnny Dogs interrupted, quickly explaining, "There is a kind of merry war between Mr. Solomons and her: they never meet but there is a skirmish of wit between them."
You groaned, "He learns nothing by that!"
"It's true enough." Ada teased.
You crossed to the rail of the veranda, leaning back against it, "In our last conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and now the whole man is governed with one. So that if he have wit enough to keep him warm, it marks the difference between he and his horse. It is all the wealth he has left, to be known for a reasonable creature."
The messenger let out a laugh, "Truly?"
"Aye," You nodded, "Tell me, who is his companion now? He has a new sworn brother each month."
"Is it possible?"
"Very easily possible, he wears his faith like the fashion of his hat- it always changes with the next block."
"I see, Lady. The gentlemen is not in your books." The messenger nodded as if he finally understood.
"No, and if he were I would burn the whole library." You nodded in a agreement, "But truly, who is his companion? Is there no young man who make voyage to the devil with him?"
"He's mostly in the company of the younger Shelby brother: John." And as he gestured back toward Esme, who blushed again, you had to hand it to the messenger: he was a quick learner.
"Oh lord," You groaned, "He will hang upon him like a disease. Alife is sooner caught than the pestilence and the taker always runs mad. God help young John, if he has caught the Solomons it will cost him much to be cured of it."
The messenger chuckled, "I will hold friends with you lady."
You grinned, reaching out to clink your glass to his, "Do, good friend."
"And you'll never run mad niece?" Your uncle asked.
"No, not till a hot january." You quipped.
Before anyone else could retort, the sound of gravel crunch under tires filled the air, and Johnny Dogs was leading the way off the veranda and around the side of the house to meet the new guests.
There in the driveway, your little party was met with the grimmer one of Mr. Shelby. Thomas himself was leading the way towards the house from the cars, flanked by the others as he called, "Johnny Dogs, you've come to meet your trouble. You know the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, yet you encounter it."
Johnny Dogs let out a barking laugh, "Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of you and your good men. For trouble being gone, comfort remains and when you leave- sorrow abides and happiness leaves with you."
"You brace your charge too willingly." Still, Tommy allowed himself to be dragged into his hug. When they seperated, Tommy caught sight of the rest of the party, "Ah, then this your daughter, Esme."
"Her mother has many times told me so."
Finally disentangling himself from the ruckus being made by the soldiers now that they were out of Tommy's orders, Alfie appear at his side, "Were you in doubt sir, that you asked her?"
"Ah, Mr. Solomons, no, for then you were only a child." Johnny said, slapping him on the back.
"You have it full Alfie, and we can tell what kind of man you are for it," Tommy, turned making his way back to Esme, "Surely the lady fathers herself. Be happy lady, for you are like an honorable father."
"If Johnny Dogs be her father, then she would not have his head on her shoulders for all of Margate!" Alfie laughed, but the group had already moved away, as Tommy caught up with the rest of the household.
From where you had found a perch against the side of the house you sighed, "It's a wonder you will still be talking, Alfie. Nobody marks you."
"What-" Alfie slowly turned on his heel, taking in the sight of you, lounging in the sun, "My dear Lady Disdain- are you yet living?"
You smirked, raising your glass towards him mockingly, "Is it possible disdain should die when she has such food to feed on as Alfie Solomons? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence."
"Then is courtesy a turncoat. But, it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepting," He wagged a finger in your direction, "and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart- for truly, I love none."
"A dear happiness to women!" You cheered, pushing off the wall to stalk closer to him. "They would else have been troubled by a horrid suitor. I thank god and my cold blood that I am of your humor for that, I would rather hear a dog bark at a crow than a man swear that he loves me."
Alfie barked out a laugh, pointing a finger your direction, "God keep your ladyship in that frame of mind! So some gentleman or other can escape a scratched face!"
"Scratching could not make it worse, if it were such a face as yours."
"Well, you are a rare parrot teacher!" Alfie scoffed.
Your face suddenly felt hot, and you scrambled to retort, "Well better a bird of my tongue than a beast of yours!"
"I would my horse had the speed of your tongue and so a good continuer. But keep your way, in god's name, I am done." He all but waved you away, turning to follow as the rest of the company began to make their way into the house.
You sat for a long moment, watching him disappear, before shaking your head and making your way back around towards the veranda, muttering, "You always end with a jade's trick. I know you of old."
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ceirinen · 1 year ago
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December 2023
I decided to make a list of every fic I read each month.
I would like to interact more, but life has been complicated recently and when it comes to interacting, I get very anxious which is something I'm trying to overcome.
So, here I made this to appreciate such amazing writers and stories that inspire me and others everyday. To the authors, I want to thank them for their dedication and time spent on writing to offer us fascinating stories.
I totally recommend their work.
(If you are in this list and you don't want to, please let me know so I can fix it).
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@cillianmesoftlyyy
So New | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader Method Acting | young!Cillian Murphy x Reader
@runnning-outof-time
Research | Tommy Shelby x Reader Bedtime Stories | Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter
@zablife
teacher!Luca Changretta x Reader Funeral | Tommy Shelby x sister!reader A Visit to the Peaky Blinders Set | Cillian Murphy x wife!reader
@gypsy-girl-08
Festive Spirit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader All I Need... | modern!Thomas Shelby x Reader A Gentle Warning | Thomas Shelby x wife!Reader
@pacifymebby
Arthur Shelby x Reader
@fkmarrycill
Pre-Gaming | Cillian Murphy x Reader
@holacia3
Lost and Lucky | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader Surprise visit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader
@beastofburdenxo
Let Me Praise You | Tommy Shelby x Reader Raising Catherine | Tommy Shelby x Reader
@look-at-the-soul
If I let you go | Cillian Murphy x Reader
@your-nanas-house
What does my princess want? | sugar daddy!Cillian Murphy x sugar baby!reader I'm pretty sure you're mine | sub!William Killick x dom!fem!Reader What are we, idiot? | Neil Lewis x best friend!Reader Thirsty | Tommy Shelby x secretary!Reader
@raincoffeeandfandoms
To the end of the world | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Tommy, the teddy bear | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Emergency surgery | baby!Tommy Shelby Fanfiction | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Anon | Alfie Solomons
@lis-likes-fics
Loner | Edward Cullen x Reader At the End of the Day | Tommy Shelby x wife!Reader
@rafeology
Mentor!Finnick Odair x victor!reader
@wife-of-all-dilfs
Flower Therapy | Finnick Odair x Reader
@darlingsfandom
Cillian Murphy x Reader Tommy Shelby x artist!reader Soft sugar daddy | Robert Fischer x Reader
@pinguwrites
Home Is Where the Heart Is | William Killick x future!reader
@http-finnick
Skin to skin | Finnick Odair x fem!insomniac!reader
@acewritesfics
Lost Love | Tommy Shelby x Reader 36 Minutes | modern! Tommy Shelby x Reader
@dearshelby
Had you first | Tommy Shelby x Reader Little Tommy | Thomas Shelby x oc
@lau219
Red Carpet | Cillian Murphy x Reader
@peakyswritings
I Do Bad Things | demon!Tommy x Reader
@shelbystales
Ceramic Lessons | Cillian Murphy x Reader
@darthannie
Day eighteen: breeding kink with Lenny Miller | Lenny Miller x f!Reader
@hllywdwhre
Afterglow | Cillian Murphy x Reader
@red-write-hand
I'll be home for Christmas | Thomas Shelby x Reader
@mysaintkitten
Bad Behaviour | Mike Kiernan x fem!Reader
@notyour-valentine
The Spirits that I summoned | young!Tommy Shelby
@brummiereader
No Son Of Mine | Tommy Shelby
@youbyradiohead
Strawberry Syrup | Cillian Murphy x Reader
@cillianthinker
British accent | Cillian Murphy x Reader Young and in love | Cillian Murphy x Reader
@cillspropertea
Coming home | Cillian Murphy x Reader
@cillmequick
Operation Christmas Tree | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader
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fandom-puff · 1 year ago
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Hi! Just wanted to say I love your writing and was wondering if I could request "overstimulation + praise kink" with Alfie Solomons from Peaky Blinders please? No pressure though and thank you!!
Thank you so much!! I love Alfie <333
Warnings: contains Overstimulation, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, praise kink
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x fem!reader
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“There’s a good girl,”
Alfie’s voice was low and gruff as he coaxed yet another orgasm from your oversensitive cunt, this time with his thick calloused fingers pumping deliciously in and out.
Your back arched, pushing your naked breasts against him, and you whimpered as your erect nipples grazed against his clothed chest. Eyes rolling back, your mouth went slack as slurred curses and groans of his name tumbled out in a muddled moan.
Alfie continued his ministrations, nosing at your neck and grazing his teeth against your throat, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Doing so well, pet,” he murmured, sucking a mark into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Such a good, good fucking girl for me,”
As his thumb reached up to circle your clit, your legs clamped around his hand, squeezing his wrist as you rocked into his touch. White-hot pleasure seared painfully through every fibre of your being, but you weren’t willing to throw in the towel just yet. You could feel your own wetness smeared on your neck and chest, transferred from Alfie’s beard to your skin once he emerged from between your legs. He had drawn out several releases just from his tongue, and now he had moved onto using his fingers to tease you open, swirling your slick and his saliva around your sensitive pussy until you shook over and over with pleasure.
“Think you’re ready for my cock?”
It was a stupid question; of course you were ready for his cock, and you had been for the best part of two hours. You had even begged for it… about four orgasms ago. “Please,” you whispered again. “Please, need it, Alf, please!”
“So pretty when you beg, darlin’,” he told you, kneeling between your thighs and shucking off his shirt, before tugging himself from his pants. You groaned at the sight of his heavy cock, pushing your hips up towards him. He smirked, holding the base in his fist as he lined up with your entrance, running the tip up and down your wet slit. “Gonna be a good girl and milk my cock?”
When you nodded eagerly, he grinned, pushing forward, stretching you out in a way his fingers never could. “Fuck… good girl, YN, love… take my cock so well, you do,” You moaned, already trying to rock your hips up and down, eager for him to ruin your overstimulated cunt. “My good little pet, drunk on my cock,” he grunted, starting to snap his hips against yours.
It only took a few thrusts before your overworked pussy was spasming uncontrollably around him, and he held onto your thighs, holding you close to him to keep his cock inside you. “Fuck… good girl,” he praised, and smirked as you tried to wriggle away. “But I’m not done with this perfect cunt just yet,”
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thehardy-boys · 1 year ago
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The Platform Part 2 (Tommy Shelby x Reader)
Thank you all for your responses to my first part! You all are so lovely and supportive! Here's part 2 and I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Nothing...not yet.
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Part 2
For the rest of the week (y/n) worried that she might have offended him. Was she supposed to think he would remember her? Was it an insult to his memory to assume he didn’t? She racked her brains for hours in the dead of night only to feel foolish for even caring. It wasn’t like they had ever been close. They played together when they were kids but then she left. And yes…after the war that moment on the platform as she sifted through all those men, all those men with death in their eyes, for her brother. But that was it.
The Thomas she remembered was a quiet, thoughtful boy. He had a wild imagination and was always coming up with new games for all of them to play. (y/n) didn’t know who this man was now. Small Heath feared him. They feared the Peaky Blinders. And (y/n) was sad to admit she was fearful of him too.
Come Thursday afternoon she gritted her teeth before knocking on his office door.
In and out. That’s all. She repeated to herself.
“Come in.”
He looked up from his paperwork when she walked in. (y/n) did exactly as she had practiced numerous times in her head: she walked over and placed the drafted issue on his desk and said, “Is there anything you would like me to tell Mr. Beavers?”
Thomas stubbed out his cigarette bud and sat back with a sigh. He watched her as she stood like a statue in front of his authoritative desk. She could feel his eyes like a physical touch. She watched as the danced all over her face, her hair, her neck but no lower.
“Have a drink with me.” He got up and turned his back to pour two glasses of whiskey.
“No, thank you. I’m still working Mr. Shelby.” She shook her head as he held out the glass.
He set it down on the edge of the table and took sip from his own.
“How’s your mother?”
(y/n) was taken aback. She stood there for a minute processing his question.
“My mother? She’s sick.”
Thomas nodded, “And you’re looking after her? That’s why you came back?”
“Yes. One of the reasons.” She felt bewildered. What was this?
“What were the others?”
“I don’t understand Mr. Shelby. My reasons for returning are entirely my own.” Was this some kind of interrogation?
She watched him down the rest of the glass and clench his jaw at the sting. Thomas remained standing but slowly walked around to the other side of the desk. But as soon as he came within an arm length of her, she took a step back. It did not go unnoticed. She watched as his eyes flickered towards the distance she had created.
“I’ve heard things, that’s all.”
“Heard things? Gossip, you mean?”
He made a noncommittal noise.
“Well, it’s no one’s business. Keep believing the gossip, I don’t care if the people here spin tales.” (y/n) knew she was being a bit to hostile, but she came in hoping to just throw him the issue and leave and now he was putting her through a round house of questions.
He raised his eyebrows at her tone, “Polly’s just worried.”
She turned her head, so she didn’t have to look at him anymore, “That’s very kind of her but I’m fine. If that’s all, Mr. Shelby?”
“How about after your work?”
“I’m sorry?” Thomas had leaned back against the desk crossing his arms.
“After your work do you drink?”
(y/n) still was unsure of where this line of questions was heading.
“Come to the Garrison to have a drink,” he cleared his throat, “with me.”
Her heart betrayed her by missing a beat, but she ignored it stubbornly. No this wasn’t going to happen.
“No, I’m sorry Mr. Shelby. You’re technically my boss now. I don’t think it’s appropriate.” Before he could argue she left. Her heart jack rabbiting all the way back to the office. She was ashamed to admit she was scared he would run after her with his razors, spin her around, and threaten her, or force her to join him. No such thing happened. The day went on. She stopped by her mother’s on her way home. Nothing changed. The old woman was just one day closer to the end.
(y/n) spent the night thinking of the broadness of Thomas’s shoulders. Silly girl. She berated herself. Silly girl.
(y/n) was a loyal worker. If she was given a job, she would do it. And that’s why every week she dutiful went down to the Shelby Limited offices and dropped off the issue. Thomas never asked for another drink. He would sometimes give her a message for Mr. Beavers but that was it. No more questions. No more interrogations.
One Thursday he had pointed out a packet of papers on the coffee table he wanted her to bring to her boss. She walked over and leaned down to flip through the contents, trying to assess how much time it would take to process. As she straightened up, she flinched at his sudden proximity; he had been leaning over to have a look, as well.
“Sorry, Mr. Shelby. I didn’t hear you.” She admitted softly trying to regain control over her heart.
(y/n) took a small step back. He took a step forward. Her eyes widened and she glanced down at his feet then up to his face. But he never gave anything away. She took another step back and he followed with his step forward. His eyes fixated almost violently on her face. One step back and one step forwards.
“Mr. Shelby…” She began with a slight tremor that she hated herself for.
“Are you afraid of me, (y/n)?”
She watched him bite the inside of his cheek subtly. He was calculating. Analyzing. Waiting.
“Yes.” She admitted softly.
His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. He looked angry but he turned around and walked all the way back to his desk and fell into his chair.
She grabbed the packet and left. Not looking back. Never looking back.
The next Thursday she careful placed the issue on his desk and he hadn’t even bothered looking up.
She cleared her throat, “Mr. Shelby, I can give this responsibility over to someone else. Ms. Lowe would be more than willing to take over.”
His head shot up, “Are you that afraid?” His question was accusatory.
“No, no. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Thomas snorted placing his pen down, “Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. I am. I just – over time I’ll become less afraid.” And she meant it. The truth was she wasn’t so afraid of what he had done, of his illegal dealings but more afraid of what she wanted him for. Afraid of how he haunted her mind at night and her day dreams.
“I don’t want Ms. Lowe.” He said while drowning her to death in his eyes. And that was that.
Life didn’t change much even with this new additional Shelby connection. Small Heath was still an unhappy place. (y/n) was still tired. Her mother still mumbled and hissed for her to leave and (y/n)’s head still hurt every day after leaving work.
Only because Evelyn had been pestering her non-stop did she bother to say anything.
“Ms. Lowe wanted to know when the next singing night would be at the Garrison.”
“Ms. Lowe?” Thomas furrowed his eyebrows. He always remained sitting at his desk when she dropped the issue off now, kept his distance and she was thankful. He was much less intimidating this way.
“Yes, Ms. Lowe. The woman you met before, blonde hair, red lips, single.”
He raised his eyebrows, “What about her?”
“What I just said.” (y/n) huffed a laugh at Thomas’s purposeful obtuseness. It was an annoyingly endearing trait that she remembered from when they were kids.
Thomas quirked his lips slightly and (y/n) was astonished to admit that she hadn’t seen him smile once seen she had met him all those weeks ago. Then again, the war changed everyone. He had that look in his eyes same as her brother, that all those men had. The look of absence. The missing piece. Something taken.
“You can tell her there’ll be one this Saturday.”
“Great, now she can finally leave me be.”
“She’s botherin’ you.” His cigarette case opened with a click. He offered her one, but she declined.
“She has quite the crush on you. She’s been asking me to drop hints. Although don’t tell her I point blank told you or she’d have my head.”
He took a long drag while watching her.
“A crush?”
(y/n) nodded.
“Why don’t you come with her on Saturday?”
(y/n) scrunched her nose, “I don’t really get along with her, but I’ll tell her the day. Can I tell her you’ll be there?”
He blew out the smoke, “No, no I won’t be there.”
It was the following week when (y/n) encountered another face from her past. She had entered Thomas’s office before realizing that he wasn’t alone. Another man was sitting in front of the desk.
“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Shelby. I can come back later.”
“No need. We just finished.”
The other man had turned around upon hearing her voice, “Bloody hell! (y/n) (l/n). I can’t believe it.”
John Shelby walked over and pulled her into a tight embrace. He was all muscle now. (y/n) remembered how soft and sweet he was as a kid, round face, and chubby cheeks. Always running after her and helping her climb up the trees out in the wild. His face still carried that mischievous twist.
“John, It’s so nice to see you, again.” He put her at arm’s length to have a good look at her.
“My god. You’re an absolute stunner, (y/n). Thomas was right.”
“John, remember what I said about the meeting this evening.” Thomas’ voice was close behind his younger brother and there was an edge to it, a warning.
“Alright, alright. I’ll see you ‘round (y/n). Don’t be a stranger, now.”
“Of course not, John.” She chuckled.
Then she was left with the other brother, “Here’s the issue, Mr. Shelby.”
He took it from her and tossed it on his desk without look at her, in fact he wasn’t meeting her eyes at all. Thomas methodically went about taking out and lighting a cigarette. His silence was beginning to unnerve (y/n).
“Is there something I can report to Mr. Beavers?”  
“I want to do a few pieces on horses.” He gestured vaguely, “I want a few articles on their nature, their training, their value.”
He blew out a puff of smoke and walked over to one of the sofas. He gestured to the opposite one. (y/n) followed his suggestion.
“Is that something people are interested in reading about?”
“I’ve frequented the race tracks for several years now. The more people ‘round here who feel like they have an understanding of horses will be more likely to make a bet. It develops a market.”
(y/n) shrugged, “Alright, I’ll take your word for it. I’ll tell Mr. Beavers to assign someone.”
“I want you to write it.” He pointed to her with the same hand that held his burning cigarette finally meeting her eyes. The shocking blue of them always caught her off guard.  
“Me?” She was in disbelief, “I don’t know anything about horses! Besides, I’m a general editor not a writer.”
Thomas scoffed, “I know that you write about half the articles in that paper already. Mr. Beavers told me.”
(y/n) averted her gaze to the beautiful oil painting of a horse on one of the office walls. She sighed.
“I still don’t know anything about horses.”
“I’ll arrange a time I can take you out to the stables. I’ll show you ‘round the horses.”
(y/n) sat there just staring at him. She just couldn’t understand. What was his angle? What did he want? She rubbed her forehead. It was just another chore.
“Alright, Mr. Shelby. If that’s what you think is best. I’ll tell Mr. Beavers.”
She got up to leave but he leaned forward and snagged her wrist. She stopped moving immediately and looked over at him. His hand was gentle around her arm. It was loose enough for her to shake him off. He was surprisingly warm. She saw him looking into her eyes, waiting for her fear, a flinch, a tremor, and she was certain if he saw it, he would let go immediately.
“What do you think of John?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You treat him differently. You’re not the same as you are with me.”
“I – well, he’s younger than me and he’s not my boss. I remember practically babysitting him when we were kids.” She shrugged, “It’s just different.”
His face remained a perfect mask of indifference.
“Maybe you don’t understand how you look, Mr. Shelby.” (y/n) tried again.
“How I look?” His eyebrows raised.
“Like you’d rather be anywhere else than here. You’re very serious, Mr. Shelby. It’s hard to feel at ease around someone like that.”  
His hand slipped off her wrist, “I’ll let you know when I can take you to the stables.”
(y/n) hesitated for only a moment. It wasn’t her responsibility to make Thomas Shelby feel good about himself.
Part 1 ---- Part 3
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cosmic-crybaby · 1 year ago
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Blue Skies - Tommy Shelby
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Chapter 17: 'On My Own Again'
Warnings In This Chapter: Nothing much, just some fluff. Lowkey filler chapter.
Masterlist:
---
When you awoke the next morning, you were in your bed alone.
The first thing you remembered was the fight you had the night before. And just how scary it had gotten. 
Looking around the room, not used to how lackluster it all looked compared to Thomas’ room. The only thing you really missed was the luxury of sleeping in a large bed with only the finest silk sheets to keep you warm at night. You didn’t miss Thomas. Not one bit after last night. Every time he ran across your mind, you felt a small kick to your side, sometimes you even felt nauseated. However, the somber feeling resonated within your chest as the tears threatened to fall and soak the pillow under your cheek. You had made a call to Alfie that morning, asking to take the children a few days earlier than usual so they wouldn’t have to see you in your condition. Alfie didn’t ask any questions, not having to even ponder what had happened, as the sadness in your voice when you said his name gave it all away. You tried your best to stay strong in front of your children when they were picked up. Elizabeth noticed right away, but didn’t say a word, as to not worry her younger brother. 
"I love you, mum..." She whispered to you, her hand squeezing yours. Within a few moments, they were gone to London. You had locked yourself in your room, not bothering to go to work that day. You rewarded yourself with a day off, you needed it. 
Rubbing a comforting hand over your stomach, knowing the baby might feel all of the emotions you were going through. It was an attempt to soothe it and bring it the comfort you didn’t have at the moment. The more you sat in your silence, the more you began to realize something about your relationship with Thomas. For the most part, he showed you how to love again. Showed you how to remember after all those years of almost forgetting what love was. But Thomas Shelby also brought you so much pain and anger. You didn’t expect Thomas to hurt you the way he did, but you knew deep down that you were thinking too highly of him. This made you feel even more upset with yourself, knowing that Esme was just trying to warn you. But of course, you overlooked them. 
Your resentment for Tommy dominated the fact that the both of you did the ten things you had discussed the night you first met.
It took a few days for you to get back on your feet again, finally feeling some kind of motivation to work. 
It was the middle of the day, you were just cleaning up some tables and taking the dirty tea cups into the back sink to clean them. Your task had to come to a stop once you heard the familiar bells chime as the heavy wooden door opened and slammed shut. 
"I'll be right with you!" You called, groaning a bit as you opted to just place the cups in the sink, reminding yourself to finish it up later when you had the chance. 
"What can I get for-" Your words got caught in your throat once you exited the back kitchen. Your eyes went wide as you looked at the person you'd least expect. 
"Hi love," Her voice was calm. Her hands were clasped one over the other in front of her. 
"Esme," You were surprised. The two of you stood there for a moment until she opened her mouth to speak first. 
"I just wanted to ap-" 
"No," You stopped her, moving past the back counter to stand in front of her. Taking slow steps towards her. 
"I should be the one apologizing, Esme...I am so sorry for not believing you..." You shook your head as you felt yourself choking up already.  "I should have listened to you, I don't know how I could be so selfish," You rambled. 
Esme took fast steps towards you, noticing how your eyes glossed and your nose turned red. Engulfing you into a tight, and much needed hug and closing the space between you. Hushing you as you allow her embrace and wrap your arms around her. 
"You're not selfish, (Y/n) you were in love," She paused. "Ada was asking about you and when Tommy told her what happened, she told Polly and Polly told me...If it makes ya feel any better they're angry with him right now, especially Polly...you might be expecting a visit from her soon," Her voice filled you with warmth as she pet your hair. You sniffled, resting your head on her shoulder. 
"I don't have the heart to face them again, Esme..." You meekly replied. 
"What do you mean?" She asked, pulling away from you. 
"It broke my heart when my parents died before I could even say good-bye, it's breaking my heart again that my new family is forced out of my life because of him," Your voice was full of pain, yet the spite was still evident in your tone. 
"Even if that is the case, the Shelby's will never truly leave your life...Even if you aren't with Tommy anymore, they adored you and they will never leave your side," She comforted you. You look up at her finally. 
"Should I move so he can't fine me...or-" 
"Even if you did leave he would still find a way to find you..." 
"What should I do now?" 
She took a deep breath and held your face with her small hands. Looking at her made you feel at ease, for once. Her kind eyes and warm smile gave you a sense of safety. 
"Live your life...You can still do that, can't you?" 
You nod. 
"With or without him, I will still be by your side through this...okay?" She asked. 
After what felt like days, you finally made up your mind about Thomas. You had told Esme to relay the message to Thomas. That was the last and final straw. You felt desolation after you came to the realization that you and your children would never see him again. You loved him too much for his own good and he ruined that. It took you days to finally feel normal in your life without him.
 Esme was proud of you and therefore you were proud of yourself. 
---
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The Boogeyman (Alfie Solomons x Reader) 🎃Halloween Special🎃 ONESHOT
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(UNEDITED) Pairing: Monster!Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 21,697
Warnings: SMUT (p in v, dry humping, forest sex, oral!fem receiving), age gap, child murders, eating children, Dark!Alfie, obsessive!Alfie, controlling Summary: "Do not misbehave, be a good girl. And no matter what. Never! enter the woods. He will get you." In a small village plagued by the ominous presence of the Boogeyman, you, a young and curious woman, find your world forever altered when you cross paths with Alfie Solomons, an enigmatic and older man. Instantly captivated by his mystique, you're drawn into his intriguing world, but as your connection deepens, you can't help but wonder if your newfound association with him will lead to unforeseen danger and consequences. A/N: This is an AU is set back in time with no real timeline and more than likely not in London. And literally after writing this out, I realised that this story would have been way better for Eddie Brock and Venom but...too late! It's also a bit fast paced but I got a lot to fit into a one shot so...it is what it is. This is also written in second person.
⛓🥀⛓ "Do not misbehave, be a good girl. And no matter what. Never! enter the woods. He will get you."
Parents would solemnly caution the young ones throughout the quiet village each and every night, their voices laden with apprehension.
"Don't be fooled," Mama repeated, her voice like a broken record.
The Boogeyman, that dreaded spectre that parents invoked to instil discipline, was a shadowy legend, perpetually elusive yet steadfastly believed. Has anyone ever truly encountered this enigmatic figure? The resounding answer was no, rendering him nothing more than a tale spun to terrify. 
But, oh, how parents revealed such a lie! In our village, renowned for its disquieting history of frequent child disappearances, this sinister persona took root. The lore declared that the Boogeyman would " abduct children and consume them," using his uncanny abilities to manipulate young minds, often infiltrating their dreams. This malevolent entity remained shrouded in darkness, dwelling deep within the heart of the forbidding forest, where the realms of reality and nightmare intertwined.
As you reclined in my bed, your gaze fixed on the window, the ethereal moonlight casting eerie shadows of leaves that relentlessly scraped against the glass, you couldn't help but wonder about the secrets concealed within those unfathomable woods. The nights blurred into years, and the elusive forest seemed to guard its enigmas ever more jealousy.
Clusters of trees interwoven like an impenetrable tapestry obscured any glimpse of what lay beyond. What mysteries lurked in the depths of the woods, where no child from our village was ever meant to tread? 
The yearning to explore that forbidden forest gnawed at you like an insatiable hunger. Just one opportunity to venture into the forest, to unravel its mysteries, was all you wished for. Yet, you were all too aware of Mama's unwavering resolve. She would never permit such a reckless escapade. You understood that desiring something as audacious as this was a perilous secret to harbour, for if word got out, the entire village would erupt in frenzy.
But what if there was something more to the forest, something beyond the tales of the Boogeyman? The adults, you reasoned, were only trying to protect the kids. Still, the allure of the unknown tugged at my curiosity like a relentless tide. It whispered promises of discovery and adventure, an escape from the mundane routine of our sheltered lives. And so, as you lay there, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, the forest beckoned with its tantalising mysteries, a riddle yet to be unravelled.
⛓🥀⛓ Morning arrived, accompanied by the gentle caress of the sun's warm tendrils sneaking through the window's gaps. Your eyes fluttered open, revealing the monotonous wooden confines of my unremarkable bedroom. Stretching one leg to touch the floor while the other dangled over the edge, you yawned and rubbed the remnants of sleep from my eyes. With a determined sigh, you pushed yourself upright and began the descent down the creaky staircase.
Mama's voice, as predictable as the rising sun, greeted me with a mild scolding. "It's nearly midday, Y/n. When will you learn to rise at a reasonable hour? You're 18 years old, not 80."
You met her reproach with a weary but respectful response. "I'm sorry, Mama," you replied, trudging wearily into the kitchen, where Mama was carefully slicing a fresh loaf of bread. 
Her eyes, softened by maternal concern, met yours. "We're heading to the market today, dear. Please make an effort to look presentable."
You let out a resigned sigh, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing upon my shoulders. With reluctant steps, you retreated to your room, ready to face the day and the mysteries that the forest held, if only in your imagination.
⛓🥀⛓ The clamour of people rushing about engulfed you as you navigated through the bustling town. With your head held low, you stuck close to Mama, blending into her side as though seeking refuge in her presence.
Mama, sensing the need for a change, extended a few coins in your direction, her words laden with expectation ."Go look for some better clothes that actually fit you, or maybe even some fabric," she instructed, then wandered off into the throng, leaving you to fend for yourself.
A sense of unease washed over you. Can't she come with me? The bustling market felt overwhelming, and you yearned for her reassuring presence amid the chaos.
You didn't like the idea of solitude, especially in the midst of this bustling crowd, but Mama's directives were not to be questioned. Suppressing your apprehension, you ventured forth towards the market's clothing section.
As you progressed, you couldn't help but notice the fresh additions to the heart-wrenching collection of missing children posters. They clung to tent posts and any available surface like desperate pleas for help. Your heart ached for those unfortunate souls, caught in the enigmatic grasp of the forest.
Despite the vibrant array of exotic colours adorning various articles of clothing and accessories. Among them, a couple of red skirts caught your eye, but none truly ignited your interest. With a sigh of disappointment, you turned away and continued down the bustling road.
As you wandered, you couldn't help but observe the people around you. Many seemed to adhere to a similar aesthetic – modest attire befitting the lower class, much like your own clothing. The crowd blurred into a sea of similarity, with individuals seamlessly merging into the tapestry of the town's daily life. 
However, amidst this sea of sameness, one figure stood out like an anomaly in the fabric of reality. It was a man, and although it seemed impossible, his presence had an uncanny ability to halt the world in its tracks.
He stood out to you, those grey eyes reminiscent of a universe filled with stars. A wide-brimmed pork pie hat sat atop of his brown hair, and a scruffy beard added an air of rugged refinement. His countenance bore a hardness that could easily be intimidating to those who dared to gaze upon it. In truth, you could endlessly enumerate the myriad qualities that rendered this man devilishly handsome.
Caught in his magnetic presence, you found yourself in a dreamy reverie, utterly reluctant to divert your gaze even for a fleeting moment. The world around you seemed to blur, leaving only the enigmatic stranger at the centre of your attention, a captivating mystery in the midst of the mundane.
As if on cue, his gaze locked onto yours, and you found yourself frozen in place. The sheer shock of the moment left you dumbfounded. However, he remained unruffled, and a sly smirk graced his lips. It was as though he relished the effect he had on you, causing an undeniable rush of heat to surge to your cheeks. In your flustered state, you instinctively averted your eyes to the ground, attempting to make a quick escape. Yet, your retreat was abruptly halted as you were whisked away, pinned against a nearby stall.
Your body stiffened as you looked up, meeting the intense gaze of your captor. Under his compelling presence, you couldn't help but tremble. It was the very same man who had captured your attention moments earlier with his striking charm. Now, he stood before you, effectively trapping you between him and the market stall. With a blend of sweetness and cockiness, he parted his luscious lips to speak.
"I saw you looking at me back there, what's your name?" he inquired, his cockney voice bearing a rich, raspy timbre that sent your heart into a frenzied race.
Swallowing hard, you struggled to steady your trembling nerves. "Come on, little Dove," you flinched as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
Drawing even closer, he narrowed the distance between your faces. His warm breath caressed your skin as he pressed, "What's your name?"
"Y-Y/n," you managed to stutter out, your voice betraying your anxiety.
"Such a beautiful name you have," he purred, his name rolling off his tongue like a seductive melody. "Alfie."
His fingers gently caressed your cheek, coaxing your fearful gaze to meet his. "Don't be frightened, little Dove," he reassured, his words a soothing balm to your anxiety. "I won't hurt you."
Alfie continued to stroke his thumb against your flushed cheeks, a gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. Just as he was on the verge of speaking again, the sound of your mama's voice suddenly shattered the moment, putting a halt to his words.
"I hope to see you again," he whispered, his words carrying a weight of longing, before gracefully retreating from your alarmed presence and blending once more into the bustling crowd.
Exhaling deeply, you realised you had been subconsciously holding your breath during this intense encounter. Slowly, you managed to pull yourself together and step back onto the bustling street. With a quivering breath, you looked up and spotted Mama approaching, carrying two bags filled with provisions.
"What's left you so shaken, dear? Did you find anything at all?" Mama inquired with concern, her gaze searching your face for answers.
You shook your head, unable to articulate the unusual encounter you had just experienced. Mama let out a sigh of understanding. "Very well, let's go home now," she said, her tone a mix of curiosity and resignation, leaving the mysteries of the market behind as you both headed for the familiarity and safety of home.
The journey back home was marked by a heavy silence, your thoughts still consumed by the enigmatic man, Alfie. He had both unsettled and fascinated you in equal measure. Despite the intrigue, a part of you fervently hoped to never cross paths with him again, uncertain of how much more you could withstand.
The world outside seemed to blur into insignificance as your mind replayed the encounter with Alfie. His image and that rich, raspy voice lingered in your thoughts. 
Your home lay on the outskirts of the village, necessitating a slightly longer walk. It took at least 10 minutes to reach your dwelling from anyone else in the village. Remarkably, you and Mama had managed to reside on the very edge of the village grounds, avoiding the ominous forest that loomed nearby.
Upon your return home, you couldn't resist the impulse to retreat to your room. You sprawled on your bed, trying to shake off the lingering presence of Alfie's airy voice that seemed to echo in your ears.
"Don't be scared of me, little Dove, I won't hurt you," his soothing words replayed in your mind, causing your heart to pound like a drum.
Your hand involuntarily slapped against your chest, attempting to quell the rapid, erratic rhythm that reverberated beneath your palm. Each thud seemed to resonate with the enigmatic encounter, leaving you in a state of restless disquietude.
What is it about him that makes my heart go crazy?
Without realising it, night had descended much faster than you anticipated, and a steaming dinner awaited your ravenous appetite. Each step you took seemed to drag out, your thoughts ensnared in a web of contemplation from which you couldn't break free. You lowered yourself into a dining chair, your movements slow and deliberate, as if trapped in a dreamlike state. Mama regarded you with a perplexed expression, her muttered comment cutting through the silence.
"Bloody weirdo," she mumbled, her words just audible enough to reach your ears.
You remained silent, the weight of the encounter with the man still lingering heavily in your thoughts. Picking up your fork, you mechanically shovelled food into your mouth, then efficiently tidied up before retreating to your room. Your body felt heavy as you trudged over to your bed, succumbing to the embrace of sleep almost instantly. The mysteries of the day, the enigmatic Alfie, and the forest beyond the village faded into the recesses of your mind as dreams took over.
⛓🥀⛓ Surrounded by a vibrant sea of flowers, you found yourself enchanted by the beauty that encircled you. Each blossom held a unique allure, and you couldn't help but admire each one.
"I knew you'd like them, they're all for you," he murmured, his words sending a warm rush of happiness through your veins.
It was a feeling of being cherished, of finally holding significance in someone's life. A wide, uncontrollable grin crept across your face, illuminated by his presence.
"Is that smile for me?" He inquired with a gentle sweetness, his arms encircling your waist from behind.
His lips brushed from your shoulder to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. 
"Just remember," he whispered softly, "you are only mine and always mine."
The possessiveness in his voice was undeniable, creating an electrifying tension in the air that left you both exhilarated and apprehensive.
⛓🥀⛓ You jolted awake from your slumber, shock coursing through your body as the remnants of the dream lingered in your mind.
It was him!
Struggling to shake off the vivid images from your dream, you hauled yourself out of bed. Each step felt like a deliberate effort as you ascended the stairs.
Near the top, Mama's voice sliced through your thoughts, her tone edged with curiosity and concern. "Are you going to continue acting strange today?" she inquired, her brow arching with a mix of annoyance and worry.
"No, Mama, I'm sorry," you replied softly, feeling a twinge of guilt as you hang your head low. You grabbed a slice of bread, your appetite subdued, and retreated to the solace of your room, leaving behind a lingering sense of intrigue and unease.
Alfie, his presence, and the enigma he embodied dominated your thoughts, stubbornly refusing to yield to anything else. Every attempt to divert your mind led it inexorably back to him. 
Feeling compelled by this man who had entered your life so fleetingly, you found yourself instinctively preparing to venture out. There was no concrete reason, but an unexplainable desire drove you to wander the town for the day. Could it really be because of him? It seemed preposterous, yet undeniable.
Descending the stairs, you mulled over the notion of turning back and retreating to the solitude of your room. But before you could act on your uncertainty, Mama's voice pierced through your contemplations, pulling you back to reality.
"Where are you going?" her voice echoed in your ears, disrupting your thoughts.
"I just feel like taking a walk around town," you offered an excuse that was half-spontaneous, half-true.
"Alright," Mama replied, a hint of caution in her voice. "Make sure you're back before dark." Her concern lingered like a gentle reminder, urging you to tread carefully in this world of uncertainty.
⛓🥀⛓ The sound of leaves crinkling beneath your feet was the only audible presence in your world as your thoughts traversed distant realms. His eyes, his nose, his lips—every detail etched into your memory. You marvelled at the lingering impact he had on your mind. 
As you strolled alone through town, a mix of emotions swirled within you. You couldn't decide if it was the novelty of going to town unaccompanied or the persistent thought of him that left you stunned. His effortless elegance, combined with a dishevelled allure that defied reason, played on a loop in your mind. 
How did he manage to embody such an enigmatic blend of grace and rugged charm? The question lingered like an unsolved riddle, one that you couldn't help but ponder with each step you took through the quiet streets of the town.
What had once been a tranquil dirt road had transformed into cobblestone streets bustling with activity. Even though yesterday had been no different, the sight never ceased to amaze you. In this small village, it seemed almost impossible not to recognize every single person passing by. Yet, there was one face, one presence you desperately yearned to encounter again. 
You couldn't bring yourself to admit it, but you scanned the crowded streets, lifting your head a little higher as if it might make a difference. Deep down, you knew it was a futile endeavour. No one ventured to town twice in such quick succession, and the odds of crossing paths with him again were slim. Nevertheless, a glimmer of hope persisted within you, an ember of desire to see him once more.
Having resigned yourself to the futility of your search, hope drained from your body like water from a sieve. A heavy, defeated sigh escaped your lips, and your shoulders slumped in disappointment.
With every intention of turning around and retracing your steps homeward, you paused for a fleeting moment. It was as if the universe had conspired to hold you in place, a strange sensation that left you momentarily rooted to the spot.
And then, with sudden and unexpected intensity, a large, firm hand snaked around your waist. Its grasp was assertive yet strangely gentle, pulling you back against a solid surface that radiated warmth and strength. The abruptness of the encounter sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself held in a mysterious and electrifying moment, suspended between the anticipation of the unknown and the familiarity of desire.
Your breath hitched, and a chill coursed through your body, freezing you in place.
"Were you that desperate to see me again?" he murmured, his voice deep and tender, sending shivers down your spine. "Glad to see you too, little Dove."
In that moment, your heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. He was here.
His voice drew nearer to your ear, and he inched closer. "That's why you're here, isn't it?" he whispered, his warm breath caressing your skin.
You couldn't help but shy away from his proximity, although it felt practically impossible. His chest pressed against your back, and a low chuckle rumbled within him, sending vibrations coursing through you.
"Care to walk with me?" His voice, as soothing as a gentle breeze, whispered in your ear.
"I mustn't," you initially declined, your apprehension tugging at your better judgement.
"Come on, little Dove," he coaxed, his firm yet gentle grip pulling you closer to his broad, enigmatic figure. The heat rose in your cheeks as you felt the closeness of his presence.
Hesitatingly, you found yourself nodding your head in reluctant agreement. It was a departure from your usual assertiveness, a testament to the irresistible allure he held over you in that fleeting moment.
What is happening to me!?
A playful smile graced his features as he gently took your hand in his, coaxing you along with him. Alfie's touch was magnetic, and you found yourself willingly following his lead.
Alfie led you through the bustling streets, navigating the crowded thoroughfares with ease, until you reached a dirt road that led into the looming forest. A sharp intake of breath escaped your lips, and you instinctively pulled your hand from his grasp.
I can’t go in there.
Alfie turned back to face you, his brow creased in confusion, searching your eyes for answers to the unspoken questions that hung in the air between you.
"What's wrong, little Dove?" he inquired, extending his hand toward you, only to have you stumble back, your fear palpable.
"I-I can't go in there," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
A ravishing smile graced his lips, a seductive playfulness dancing in his eyes.
"Is my poor darling scared?" he asked, his tone adopting a gentleness one might use when comforting a child.
Before you could respond, he pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your waist, and his voice dropped to a tantalising murmur as he assured you, "Don't worry. You'll be right by my side the whole time." His warm breath caressed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself irresistibly drawn into his enigmatic world.
"Y-you don't understand," you stammered, your voice quivering with unease. "Mama told me I'm not—"
"Well, Mama’s not fucking here right now, is she?" he interjected, his tone taking on an edge that felt more menacing compared to his usual joviality. "You have me, and that's enough, isn't it? Is it not?"
His abrupt shift in demeanour sent shivers down your spine, and you began to tremble under the weight of his intense gaze. The sense of foreboding that hung in the air was suffocating, and you couldn't help but fear the implications of his newfound seriousness.
"Hey, what's wrong, Little Dove?" he inquired, his voice gentler now, as he tenderly cupped your face in his hands. The sudden contact made you flinch, and you instinctively tried to step back. But he held you firmly in place, his touch both comforting and unsettling.
You closed your eyes tightly, a protective reflex kicking in. His soothing words broke through the tension. "I won't hurt you, remember that."
Slowly, you began to open your eyes once again, only to be met with his hurt expression. The realisation that your actions had inadvertently caused him pain washed over you like a wave, and you felt a pang of remorse. You hadn't meant to hurt him.
"Do you not trust me?" he asked, his tone tinged with gravity and concern.
You reached for his hands and held them firmly, your fingers intertwined with his. A rapid shake of your head followed. "No, no, I do trust you!" you reassured him with urgency, your voice filled with sincerity and desperation.
A warm smile gradually graced his features once more, and the tension in the air seemed to dissipate.
"Perfect," he affirmed, the word carrying a sense of reassurance and finality, as if sealing an unspoken pact between the two of you.
Alfie tugged at your left hand, guiding you deeper into the heart of the forest. You clung onto his arm, your grip tight, your senses alert to the mysteries lurking behind each tree. His smirk hinted at a shared understanding of your vulnerability, and you found yourself relying on him for both guidance and protection.
As you ventured further into the dense woodland, you felt the enormity of the forest closing in around you. Each step drew you deeper into its mysterious embrace, and the world outside began to blur into obscurity. In this surreal wilderness, your proximity to Alfie was strikingly intimate. He held you so close that his touch on your left thigh became a grounding force, a reassuring reminder that you were not alone in the vastness of the unknown. His firm grip served as a constant, physical connection, anchoring you to the present moment as you navigated deeper into the enigmatic heart of the forest.
The air in the forest was heavy with mist, its density obscuring the path you had been following. Before you could react, it seemed to vanish into a carpet of fallen leaves and small twigs.
Raising your gaze toward the intricate tapestry of tree branches overhead, you marvelled at their intricate dance as they reached out to one another and intertwined. Each step Alfie led you deeper into the forest was like a journey from darkness to light. The once-shadowed path had transformed into a radiant garden, adorned with a kaleidoscope of plants in every imaginable shape and colour, creating an enchanting oasis within the heart of the woods.
A soft gasp escaped your lips as you knelt down, gently grazing your hand against the delicate petals. The sensation of their softness against your skin sent a shiver of delight through you. You withdrew your hand, fingers tingling, and rejoined Alfie as you continued to explore the enchanting garden.
He leaned in, his lips brushing tantalisingly close to your ear, sending a thrill down your spine. "I knew you would like them," he murmured, his voice a gentle, soothing hum. "They're all for you." His words hung in the air, a sweet promise that seemed to bloom amid the garden's vibrant beauty.
Why does that sound so familiar?
You pressed your body closer to him, a hidden smile gracing your lips as you sought refuge in his comforting embrace.
"Come on, show me that beautiful fucking smile of yours," he teased, his fingers gently lifting your chin to face him.
You attempted to pull back, but his hold on you remained steadfast. The corner of his lips curved upward into a warm, open-mouthed smile, and he let out a compassionate laugh that washed over you like a gentle wave.
Though you had known Alfie for only two days, the tender affection he showered upon you felt undeniably real. In his presence, every moment felt fresh and vibrant, as if the world had been painted anew. Not for a single second did you wish for him to leave, your heart yearning to savour every precious moment with him.
"See, now if you hadn't come with me," he said brightly, his voice filled with enthusiasm, "you wouldn't have gotten to see all this. And I wouldn't want my little Dove to miss out on all the fun."
His words danced like sunlight through the leaves, infusing the moment with a sense of adventure and joy. You couldn't help but be grateful for the opportunity to explore this enchanting world with him by your side, realising that it had brought you closer to something magical and extraordinary.
You and Alfie continued your journey through the garden, passing by the vibrant flowers and circling around a mighty, ancient tree. As you ventured further, a two-story house came into view, slightly larger than your own. With a sense of wonder, you gently released yourself from Alfie's arm and approached the beautiful house.
The exterior was a tapestry of nature, with flowers and ivy adorning nearly every inch of its walls. The door, a rich dark brown, boasted an elegant golden handle—a luxury not often seen by those who weren't of royal descent.
From behind, you felt Alfie's gradual approach, his hand settling warmly high up on your back. The touch was both reassuring and filled with an unspoken promise of the adventures yet to unfold within the walls of this enchanting place.
"Let's head inside," he whispered softly, his warm breath brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
"This is yours?" you asked, your voice filled with shock and amazement.
With a gentle push, Alfie urged you toward the house, his hand a reassuring presence on your back, guiding you forward. You stepped through the open door, allowing you to enter first. As you crossed the threshold, you were immediately enveloped in a welcoming warmth that wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. The interior of the house was even more breathtaking than the exterior, with a cosy, inviting atmosphere that made you feel instantly at home. The flickering light of a fireplace cast a warm glow over a long couch adorned with plush cushions and a beautiful red and gold rug, creating an inviting space that beckoned you to sit and relax. Shelves lined with various items, from books to potted plants, showcased a charming collection that spoke of a well-lived life. A quaint kitchenette, nestled near a staircase that led to the second floor, completed the cosy setting, and you took in the inviting atmosphere that surrounded you.
Alfie followed closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your form as you took in the surroundings. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of pride and anticipation. He watched with a faint, satisfied smile as you marvelled at the interior of the house he had brought you to.
The inviting atmosphere seemed to wrap around both of you, creating a sense of intimacy and connection. The flickering firelight painted playful shadows on the walls, casting a warm and inviting ambiance throughout the room. The long couch, adorned with plush cushions, practically begged for you to sink into its comfortable embrace, and the beautiful red and gold rug added a touch of elegance to the space.
Your attention was drawn to the shelves that lined the walls, displaying an eclectic collection of items. Books of all genres stood shoulder to shoulder with potted plants, each item contributing to the overall charm of the room. The quaint kitchenette, complete with its own unique character, nestled near the staircase that led to the second floor, completed the cosy setting.
Alfie's presence beside you felt both reassuring and electrifying, like a promise of something new and exciting on the horizon. The house seemed to echo with the unspoken possibilities of what this moment could mean for both of you, and you couldn't help but wonder where this unexpected journey with him would lead.
"This place is beautiful, Alfie," you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation as you continued to take in the enchanting surroundings.
Alfie gave you a pleased smile in response to your compliment before guiding you to the next room. As you both approached the wooden staircase that led to the second floor, your gaze was drawn to a compact kitchenette nestled nearby. Its well-organised design fit seamlessly into the room, with charming touches that added to the overall cosiness of the house.
The kitchenette featured polished wooden countertops, adorned with small potted herbs that added a delightful burst of greenery. A quaint sink sat beneath a window that allowed natural light to flood the space, making it feel even more inviting. The shelves were stocked with a variety of dishes and cookware, while a vintage stove stood as the centrepiece, ready to whip up delicious meals.
Alfie stood by your side, watching your reactions with a sense of pride. The house was not only beautiful but also meticulously designed to create an atmosphere of comfort and tranquillity. Every corner seemed to reflect the care and thought that had been put into making it a warm and welcoming place. "Tea?" Alfie asked, his voice carrying a note of warmth and hospitality.
You nodded, the idea of a soothing cup of tea in this enchanting setting sounding like the perfect way to continue your visit. You took a seat at the dining table, which was situated near the kitchenette and surrounded by charming wooden chairs. The table itself was adorned with a delicate lace tablecloth, adding a touch of elegance to the rustic charm of the room.
As you settled into your seat, you watched with curiosity and appreciation as Alfie moved gracefully about the kitchenette. He reached for a teapot, its design matching the overall aesthetic of the house, and carefully filled it with water. The aromatic tea leaves were lovingly measured and added to the pot, creating a fragrant blend that hinted at the promise of a delightful tea time.
The sound of water boiling and the gentle clinking of teacups filled the air as Alfie prepared the tea with practised ease. The cosy atmosphere of the house seemed to enhance the simple pleasure of sharing a cup of tea with someone who had quickly become an intriguing and enigmatic presence in your life.
As he carried the steaming teapot and two cups to the dining table, you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection and curiosity growing between you and Alfie. It was as if the house itself had brought you together, and you were eager to continue exploring both the enchanting surroundings and the enigmatic man who had guided you here.
"Thank you," you said appreciatively, taking one of the cups that Alfie had prepared and bringing it to your lips. The first sip of the fragrant tea was a soothing embrace to your senses, its warmth spreading through your body and providing a moment of calm in the midst of the day's unexpected events.
As you savoured the tea's delicate flavour, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort settle over you. It was as if the house, with its cosy atmosphere and Alfie's gracious hospitality, had become a sanctuary of sorts. The worries and uncertainties that had been plaguing your mind since you first encountered Alfie began to recede, replaced by a newfound sense of tranquillity.
Alfie watched you closely, his gaze unwavering but not intrusive. There was a certain intensity in his eyes, as if he were studying your every reaction and response. It was a reminder that there was still much about him that remained a mystery, a puzzle waiting to be unravelled.
Despite the enigma that surrounded Alfie, you couldn't deny the undeniable connection that seemed to be forming between the two of you. The events of the day had taken an unexpected turn, and you found yourself drawn deeper into a world that was as mysterious as it was alluring.
As you continued to share tea and conversation in the charming dining area, you couldn't help but wonder where this unexpected journey would lead you next and what secrets the enigmatic Alfie held within the walls of his captivating home.
"Such a cute fucking thing, you are," Alfie remarked, a hint of affection in his voice as he regarded you with a fond smile. The endearment sent a warm flutter through your chest, and you couldn't help but return his smile with a shy one of your own.
A rush of warmth flooded your cheeks, and you couldn't deny the blush that had painted your face a shade of crimson. Alfie's words and the intensity of his gaze had an undeniable effect on you, causing your heart to race and your emotions to swirl in a captivating whirlwind.
Your gaze momentarily dropped, unable to maintain eye contact with Alfie's penetrating stare. It was as if his words had unveiled a vulnerability within you, one that you hadn't been fully aware of until now. In his presence, you felt exposed, yet strangely drawn to the enigmatic charm that surrounded him.
As the blush deepened, you found yourself at a loss for words, the unspoken tension between you and Alfie growing stronger with each passing moment. It was a moment of both vulnerability and connection, as if the very air around you crackled with an unspoken promise of what could be.
The words and gestures exchanged between you and Alfie had created a unique bond, one that was both intriguing and captivating. His charm was undeniable, and the allure of his enigmatic presence had drawn you in deeper than you ever expected.
You leaned back slightly in your chair, a thoughtful expression crossing your face as you considered Alfie's question. It was a simple enough request, yet you found yourself hesitating, unsure of where to begin.
"Well," you began slowly, "I've lived in the village for as long as I can remember. My mama owns a home on the outskirts with a little garden and chickens." You paused, a wistful smile touching your lips as you recalled fond memories of your childhood.
"I would enjoy spending time in nature," you continued, your eyes meeting Alfie's. "There's something serene about the forest and the fields that has always drawn me in. But of course I’m not allowed in it. This is the first time I’ve ever stepped foot in the forest and it’s beautiful. I wished my parents weren’t so paranoid."
Alfie listened attentively, his eyes never leaving yours as he absorbed your words. His genuine interest in getting to know you better was evident, and it made you feel a connection that went beyond mere attraction.
As you spoke about your hobbies, your family, and your dreams, you couldn't help but notice how Alfie's presence seemed to put you at ease. The initial fear and uncertainty that had gripped you earlier had given way to a growing sense of comfort in his company. You were beginning to realise that there was much more to Alfie than met the eye, and you were eager to discover the layers beneath his enigmatic exterior as well.
"So...the forest is safe then?" you asked, a hint of curiosity in your voice. After all, Alfie lived alone in the forest, and you couldn't help but wonder if the recent disturbance meant any potential danger for the place you had grown to enjoy exploring with him.
"As long as you're with me, you're safe," Alfie answered with a reassuring smile.
Your curiosity got the best of you, and you prodded further. "What's out there in the forest, Alfie?"
Alfie's gaze turned thoughtful as he considered your question. “Just fucking wild dogs. Real aggressive buggers, yeah. Why I keep a shotgun at the door, always fucking come around here.”
You couldn't help but shiver at the thought of those aggressive wild dogs roaming the nearby forest.
"But no monsters out there, Dove," Alfie reassured you, his tone lightening the mood. "None that would hurt you, at least." He punctuated his words with a playful wink, causing a small, relieved smile to tug at your lips.
Yet, beneath the surface of this newfound connection, there lingered an unspoken tension—a sense that there was more to Alfie and the world he inhabited than met the eye. It was a mystery you couldn't ignore, even as you basked in the warmth of his hospitality.
⛓🥀⛓ After that day, neither you nor Alfie could get enough of each other. It became a routine for both of you to meet up every day. Alfie would take you on leisurely walks, whether through the charming town or the mysterious depths of the forest. Each day was a new adventure, filled with laughter, shared secrets, and stolen kisses.
You had gone from initially fearing the forest to eagerly wanting to explore it further with Alfie by your side. As time passed, you found yourself falling in love with him, and each day spent together only strengthened your bond. The forest, once a place of dread, became a backdrop for your shared adventures, and you cherished every moment spent with Alfie.
Your mother, observant as always, couldn't help but notice the profound change in your daily routine. While she may not have known the specifics of your newfound friendship or the identity of the person who had captured your heart, the fact that you left the house every day, returning only when the sun dipped below the horizon, didn't escape her notice. She watched as a radiance lit up your face, and her motherly instincts told her that something special had taken root in your life, something that seemed to bring you immense happiness and fulfilment. It was a change she welcomed, even if it remained shrouded in a bit of mystery.
On this particular day, as you left the house to spend time with Alfie, your heart danced with anticipation. It had become a familiar routine – Alfie guiding you to his house, a place that now felt like a second home. Each visit held the promise of adventure, the allure of the unknown, and the comfort of his presence. As you made your way through the streets, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that you were about to embark on another unforgettable journey with the enigmatic man who had turned your world upside down.
Alfie, as always, was waiting for you at your designated meeting spot, leaning casually against a lamppost. His eyes, as they locked onto yours, sparkled with a mixture of mischief and warmth.
"You came back to me, my little Dove?" he purred, his tease sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
You nodded eagerly, the air vibrating with a sense of anticipation. “You just make my day much more exciting, how could I stay away?”
With a graceful wave of his hand, Alfie beckoned you to follow, and you fell into step beside him. As you walked through the village streets, the two of you exchanged stories and laughter, your connection deepening with every shared moment.
Alfie's house came into view, and you couldn't help but marvel at how comfortable you'd grown in this once-forbidding place. Inside, the air was imbued with a blend of mysterious scents, a reflection of Alfie's captivating personality. It was a world of hidden corners and secrets, a world you were more than willing to explore.
As the hours passed, you found yourself drawn further into the web of Alfie's charm and charisma. He regaled you with tales of his own past, leaving you hanging on his every word. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows that danced across the room, and the atmosphere between you grew increasingly charged.
“You’re such a pretty fucking little thing, you know that, Dove?” Alfie murmured, his gaze lingering on you.
Alfie, his voice hushed and hypnotic, shared an old folk tale he'd heard from a distant land, his words wrapping around you like a spell.
His words hung in the air like a forbidden melody, and you felt your heart race as you swallowed hard. Alfie's intense gaze bore into you, and a flush of warmth crept up your cheeks.
"I..." Words seemed to escape you, lost in the whirlwind of emotions that his compliment had stirred. You'd never felt quite like this before, a heady mix of desire and vulnerability. His proximity, the charged atmosphere, it all left you breathless.
Alfie's fingers, calloused from a life of intrigue and danger, gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was electric, sending sparks of sensation through your skin. With infinite tenderness, he cupped your chin, tilting your head upward until your eyes locked onto his.
"Dove," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "I've been waitin' for this moment."
Time seemed to stand still as Alfie leaned in, his lips a breath away from yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, a tantalising promise of what was about to happen. It was a moment of perfect anticipation, the world fading into insignificance as your lips drew closer together, the magnetic pull between you impossible to resist.
You found yourself leaning closer, caught in the captivating cadence of his storytelling. In that moment, as the world outside faded away, it seemed as if time itself had paused, and you were suspended in the enchantment of the narrative. His eyes locked onto yours, and a pause lingered in the air, filled with unspoken words. You could feel the weight of the moment, a subtle tension that neither of you dared to break.
The moment stretched, time standing still as you gazed into each other's eyes. It was a dance of longing, desire, and the unspoken, a dance that had been building since the day you first met Alfie Solomons. And as you leaned closer, the world outside faded away, leaving only the promise of that moment and the anticipation of what was to come.
In that charged moment, Alfie's lips finally met yours. It was a gentle yet fervent kiss, a merging of two souls drawn together by an undeniable magnetism. His lips were soft against yours, coaxing and inviting, as if they had been designed solely to fit yours.
Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you responded to his kiss, your fingers trembling slightly as they reached up to tangle in his hair. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Alfie's mouth on yours, a taste of desire and longing that left you breathless.
Alfie deepened the kiss, his passion igniting a fire within you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, until there was not an inch of space between you. It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent declaration of the unspoken desires that had simmered between you since the moment you had first met.
With a soft, lingering sigh, you both slowly pulled away from each other, the warmth of the moment still radiating between you.
Alfie's eyes bore into yours, intense and filled with a mixture of emotions. His thumb gently brushed across your cheek, as if he couldn't resist the urge to touch you even for a moment longer. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips, revealing the depth of his feelings.
You, too, found yourself smiling, a blush rising to your cheeks as you looked down for a brief moment. The air between you was charged with unspoken words, with the knowledge that this was a turning point in your relationship.
A timid, hopeful smile played at the corners of your lips as you asked, "you...like me?"
Alfie burst into hearty laughter at your question, the sound filling the room and echoing with amusement. 
"Yeah, I fucking like you, Dove," Alfie replied with a warm smile, his eyes filled with a fondness that made your heart flutter.
As you gazed into Alfie's eyes, a mixture of emotions swirled within you. The connection between you two felt stronger than ever, yet there was an undeniable tension in the air. You couldn't help but feel the weight of the unspoken desires that hung between you like a delicate thread, waiting to be acknowledged.
Alfie's thumb gently brushed against your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes, filled with an intensity that left you breathless, slowly descended to your lips. Time seemed to stand still as he leaned in, his warm breath mingling with yours.
"I got you something," Alfie said with a hint of excitement in his voice.
Your curiosity piqued, you raised an eyebrow. His smile widened as he gracefully rose from his chair, moving to the side of the room. With deliberate care, he retrieved a bundle of rich, dark red cloth and extended it toward you. You accepted the bundle, your fingers tingling with anticipation as you gently unfolded it. Before you lay a breathtaking dark red dress, its fabric shimmering in the dim light, and you couldn't help but gasp at its sheer beauty.
"Alfie, I can't possibly accept this," you said humbly, your eyes fixed on the exquisite dress before you. The fabric alone bespoke a level of luxury you had never encountered before, and it made your heart race with both gratitude and unease.
The dress was far from cheap, that much was clear, and you struggled with the idea of accepting such an opulent gift. "Alfie, this is too much," you insisted, torn between admiration for the dress and the sense of propriety that told you it was beyond your means.
But Alfie's gaze held unwavering determination as he replied, "No, that's yours." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument, and his eyes seemed to convey a deeper sentiment you couldn't quite decipher.
You offered a warm smile, genuinely grateful for his gesture, and expressed your gratitude with a heartfelt, "Thank you, Alfie."
As you rose from your seat and approached him, his smirk widened, and his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. There was an undeniable tension in the air, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him, leaving both of you acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you.
Just as your lips were about to meet once more, a distant noise from the bustling village outside broke the spell. The moment was interrupted, and you both pulled away, a sense of longing and frustration in your eyes.
Alfie let out a sigh, his forehead resting against yours. "It seems some wild fucking dog has other plans for us, Dove," he said, a little irritated.
You nodded, your heart heavy with both desire and the harsh reality of the world outside. The two of you shared one last lingering look before reluctantly parting, knowing that this stolen moment was just the beginning of a deeper, more complicated connection between you.
With a swift stride, Alfie grabbed the shotgun waiting by his front door, his determined steps echoing his resolve as he left the house to confront the issue. You couldn't help but shake your head in amusement and let out a soft chuckle.
⛓🥀⛓ Over the past month, you had spent more and more time with Alfie, and you couldn't deny the growing closeness between you. There was a palpable connection, an unspoken understanding that seemed to deepen with each passing day. However, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in the atmosphere whenever you found yourselves in close proximity, as if the air itself crackled with unspoken desires and emotions.
Whenever Alfie playfully teased you, your cheeks would flush with warmth, and you found it increasingly difficult to hide the undeniable attraction that was blossoming between you two. The tension between you felt electric, like a charged wire ready to ignite at any moment. It was a dance of desire that neither of you could completely ignore.
You were engaged in conversation, seated together on his lounge chair. The sun bathed you both in its warm, golden light, casting long shadows that danced across the room.
The gentle breeze rustled the leaves outside, and the distant sounds of the village carried through the air. You found yourself captivated by Alfie's words, the way he spoke with a mixture of confidence and vulnerability. 
As the conversation continued, Alfie's eyes locked onto yours, and you couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull between you. His words grew softer, more intimate, and his fingers brushed against yours. The tension in the air became palpable, and it seemed as though neither of you could resist the inevitable any longer.
Alfie's fingers trailed up and down the sides of your arms, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. Warm puffs of his breath teased the nape of your neck, making your skin tingle in response.
"You are so beautiful, my little Dove," he murmured, his lips pressing gently below your ear.
With a swift, almost possessive motion, he spun you around to face him. His eyes, brimming with intense desire, bore into your soul, making your heart race. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, forcing you to tilt your head back slightly. Soft, lingering kisses traced the base of your neck, slowly ascending along your jawline. Your eyelids fluttered closed as his kisses grew more demanding, your mouth falling open slightly as you released an unsteady breath.
"Just remember, you are only mine and always mine," As Alfie whispered those possessive words, they echoed through your mind, weaving a spell that bound you to him completely. Each word carried a weight of dominance, his declaration demanding your unwavering obedience.
With a nod, you acknowledged your place as his, a mix of desire and devotion swirling within you. A gentle smile graced his lips, and he guided you towards the plush furs and blankets spread invitingly in front of the dancing flames of the fireplace, an intimate sanctuary where deeper passions and pleasures awaited.
Sinking onto his lap, you found yourself straddling him, your bodies perfectly aligned in a passionate embrace. Alfie's strong hands claimed your hips, his touch grounding you and igniting a primal connection. As you leaned in, your fingertips trailed gently along his face, tracing the contours with adoration, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your delicate touch. The warmth of the fire bathed you both in an intimate glow, casting flickering shadows that danced upon your entwined forms, amplifying the intensity of the moment.
Unable to resist the magnetic pull between you, you leaned forward, capturing Alfie's lips in a fervent and passionate kiss. The world around you faded into a blur as the fervour of your connection intensified. Your bodies pressed together, fueling the fire of desire that blazed within you both. Time seemed to stand still as the heat of the moment enveloped you, an intoxicating blend of desire, need, and surrender.
Lost in the depths of your intense kiss, you felt Alfie's hands skillfully navigate the intricate strings of your dress, pulling them gently but deliberately. The tension released as the fabric of your dress gave way, caressing your skin as it slid down your body, revealing the curves and contours that had captured his desire. The cool air heightened your senses, contrasting with the scorching heat that enveloped you both, as the anticipation of what lay ahead hung in the air like an electrifying promise.
As Alfie's hands glided along the sides of your body, a delicious shiver coursed through you, making your skin come alive under his touch. The contrast of his rough hands against the softness of your skin heightened the sensation, igniting a hunger for more. His touch, both possessive yet tender, explored every curve and contour, unravelling the layers of desire that bound you together, until you were both consumed by an electric connection that could not be denied.
You reciprocated his actions by pushing off his vest, the fabric gliding smoothly over his shoulders and pooling on the floor. Your hands trembled with anticipation as you deftly undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the sculpted contours of his chest. Each button released heightened your desire, revealing more of the tantalising sight that lay beneath. The shared act of undressing became a sensual dance, fueling the flames of anticipation and escalating the intensity of the moment.
Feeling an overwhelming desire to explore every inch of Alfie's impressive physique, you compelled your hands to ascend his chest, tracing the contours and definition of each sculpted muscle. The strength and power beneath your fingertips stirred a primal longing within you, as you marvelled at the testament of masculinity before you. With every touch, you revelled in the intoxicating mix of vulnerability and strength that radiated from him, forging an unbreakable bond between your souls.
With a slow and deliberate movement, Alfie pressed you gently onto the inviting surface of the floor beneath you, a luxurious furs that cradled your bodies. Hovering over you, his eyes burning with desire, he claimed your lips once more in a ravenous kiss that sent sparks cascading through your veins. As his lips explored yours and his hands caressed your skin, he maintained an intoxicating rhythm of undressing, shedding his pants in a tantalising display of intimacy that left you yearning for even closer connection. The world around you faded away as you surrendered completely to the fiery passions that spiralled between you, lost in the ethereal cocoon of pleasure and desire. 
"Will you make love to me, Alfie?" you asked, your voice filled with hope and longing.
Alfie smiled and kissed you, his voice low and filled with desire, "You fucking know it."
With a gleam in his eyes, Alfie drew you closer, his touch sending shivers down your spine, before he whispered, "I'll show you just how much I fucking want you."
Alfie's nimble fingers danced across your skin, igniting trails of electric sensation that made your every nerve tingle with overwhelming pleasure. As his lips continued their fervent exploration, leaving a trail of fiery kisses on your neck, the air was thick with the intoxicating scent of desire and anticipation. Without a moment's hesitation, Alfie skillfully removed both his underwear and yours, the two of you standing there, vulnerable and exposed, consumed by an insatiable hunger for each other.
As Alfie's lips ventured further south, a wicked combination of anticipation and need coursed through your veins, rendering your body a pulsing canvas of desire. With each gentle, tantalising kiss, he moved closer to your most sensitive spot, his hot breath a delicious torment that made your hips instinctively arch towards him, desperately seeking the contact your body craved. The world ceased to exist in that moment, leaving only the electrifying connection between you and Alfie, as you surrendered completely to the intoxicating rhythm of pleasure.
Alfie's kisses trailed along the soft expanse of your thighs, his beard creating an exquisite friction against your skin that added an unexpected element of sensation. The anticipation in the air grew thicker as his hands gently but firmly pushed your legs apart, affording him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts. Your breath hitched in a mixture of anticipation and excitement, your body humming with a hunger that only he could satisfy. As he drew closer to your nether regions, a wave of yearning washed over you, making every nerve ending hyperaware and eager for his touch.
“You ready, sweetie?” Alfie asked, looking up at you. With a nod of consent, every fibre of your being alive with an intoxicating mix of anticipation and desire, Alfie wasted no time in indulging in the delicious feast that lay before him. As his skilled lips enclosed around your sensitive clit, a breathtaking surge of ecstasy rippled through you, leaving you gasping and trembling with pleasure. Every flick of his tongue and every gentle suck ignited a wildfire within, consuming your senses and heightening every sensation to a point of exquisite bliss.
As Alfie continued to work his magic with fervent dedication, his tongue expertly tracing patterns of pleasure over your throbbing, sensitive bud, your body began to dance to a symphony of pleasure. Waves of sensation crashed through you, each one more intense than the last, unravelling the very fabric of your self-control. Your fingers clawed at the fur, seeking anchor in the sea of bliss that threatened to engulf you completely. Every breath you took was a symphony of moans and gasps, an unspoken language of desire and surrender that reverberated through the room. Alfie, keenly attuned to your every reaction, accelerated his ministrations, pushing you towards the precipice of pleasure. And at the apex, as the world stood still, time suspended, you succumbed to the overwhelming ecstasy that washed over you, your body convulsing with a release that echoed with the raw intensity of passion.
A surge of newfound boldness coursed through your veins as you shakily gathered the strength to yank Alfie's head up from his expert ministrations. His lips and beard glistened with the evidence of your need, a tantalising sight that fueled your hunger for more. With a breathless command, a raspy plea that dripped with need, you revealed your deepest desire to him.
"I want to finish on your cock," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire, as you locked eyes with him, a silent invitation to fulfil the craving that pulsed between you.
Alfie's sharp intake of breath, a symphony of desire, resonated through the room, kindling the fire that burned between you. Climbing back on top of you, he devotedly claimed your lips, his own still moist with the essence of your shared pleasure. The taste of intimacy lingered in the kiss, an intoxicating reminder of the depths you had explored together. As his tongue danced with yours, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in a whirlwind of passion.
“Anything for my little Dove.”
Alfie, his eyes smouldering with a mix of tenderness and sheer desire, tenderly stroked himself, relishing the sight of his throbbing length gliding along your slickness. As you tighten your grip on his broad shoulders, anticipation crackles in the air, mingling with the intoxicating scent of arousal. With deliberate slowness, he pressed himself inside you, inch by glorious inch, eliciting a shuddering gasp as the exquisite fullness consumed your senses. The raw pleasure of being filled by him, the connection that surged through your intertwined bodies, was unlike anything you had experienced before. Desperation tinged Alfie's kiss, a plea for reciprocity and mutual surrender, as he began to move, a rhythm that danced between ecstasy and longing, igniting a scorching symphony of pleasure between the two of you.
“Fucking hell, Dove.” Alfie said, breathlessly.
With every deliberate thrust, Alfie stirred a tempest of pleasure within you, causing your breath to tremble and your body to respond in kind. As the initial intensity subsided, you melted into the exquisite union, drowning in waves of pleasure that consumed your very being. In a sublime symphony, your moans transformed into whimpered pleas, a symphony only Alfie could conduct. Sensing your growing comfort, Alfie shifted his attention to the sensitive side of your neck, trailing hot, passionate kisses that sent electrifying shivers down your spine, intensifying the symphony of pleasure that enveloped you both.
As the intensity of the moment cascaded over you like a tidal wave, your eyes closed, surrendering completely to the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through every fibre of your being. Sensing Alfie's own struggle to maintain control, you watched as his restraint crumbled, giving way to an unrelenting desire that fueled his increasingly frenzied thrusts. The pace quickened, a rhythm that matched the wild tempo of your racing hearts, while his lips continued their assault on the sensitive expanse of your neck, igniting a symphony of moans that harmonised with the symphony of pleasure that washed over you. With every gasping breath and the crescendo of your moans, the intensity escalated, pushing you both to the precipice of ecstasy.
“I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard, you hear me Dove?” As Alfie's voice, a potent mix of devotion and aggressive desire, seared into your senses, you felt a surge of primal energy surge through you.
His embrace, a possessive grip that anchored you to the moment, tightened around your body, keeping you locked in a passionate embrace. With each powerful thrust, he relentlessly drove you closer to the edge of ecstasy, your climax rising within you like a crescendo in a symphony of pleasure. The anticipation hung in the air, a taut wire stretched to its limit, ready to snap and release an explosion of rapture. A sheen of sticky sweat glistened on your entwined bodies, merging the heat and intensity of your connection.
“You’re close, aren’t you Dove? Yeah? I can feel you fucking throbbing around me.” Alfie's words, a sultry rasp in your ear, ignited an inferno of desire within you, the intensity of his presence amplifying every pulsating throb of pleasure that rippled through your core.
As the relentless rhythm of his twitching cock sent spasms of ecstasy coursing through you, your world shattered into an explosion of pleasure that consumed you wholly, surrendering all control to the intoxicating climax that washed over you like a tidal wave.
As the electric waves of your orgasm crashed over you, the sensation of your convulsing walls enveloping him sent Alfie hurtling into his own release. With a raw, guttural groan, he unleashed his hot seed deep within you, each pulse of his ecstasy an intimate testament to the depth of your connection. Time stood still in that moment, as you both surrendered to the overwhelming bliss that wrapped around you, their bodies entwined in the aftermath of a sinfully euphoric union.
As the final echoes of pleasure subsided, Alfie pressed his lips against yours in a tender, loving kiss, a gesture that embodied the lingering connection between you. With a contented sigh, he gently melted onto the plush fur blanket beside you, his embrace drawing you closer, cocooning you in a comforting warmth. Holding you tightly, his lips brushed against the top of your head, leaving a feather-light imprint of affection. In the tranquillity of the room, the only audible sounds were the synchrony of your catching breaths and the soft crackling of the fire, a backdrop to the blissful aftermath of your shared pleasure.
"That was incredible, Alfie. Seriously, wow," you said, letting out a joyous laugh and snuggling into his side.
He kissed your forehead, his voice soft and filled with admiration, "Yeah, it was. You were amazing, Dove."
You chuckled, feeling content in his arms. "I barely did anything."
He grinned and squeezed you closer. "And yet, you were fucking amazing."
Despite the sticky sweat clinging to both of you, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment in his arms. It was as if the world outside didn't matter, and you had no desire to leave this warm, intimate embrace.
Alfie's warm breath tickled your ear as he whispered softly, "Just sleep, Dove."
You sighed, feeling both comforted and conflicted. "I can't stay the night, you know that, Alfie," you replied, your voice heavy with weariness.
His arms tightened around you slightly, pulling you closer. "I know, Dove. Just rest for now," he admitted, his voice tinged with longing.
The two of you lay there in silence for a while, the only sounds the soft rhythm of your breathing and the occasional rustle of leaves outside. The bond between you and Alfie had deepened over time, but there were still boundaries that couldn't be crossed, and you both understood that all too well.
⛓🥀⛓ As you stepped into the house, the scent of your mother's cooking enveloped you, and you found her in the kitchen, deftly chopping up a chicken. Her words drifted towards you, carrying curiosity and warmth.
"You've been going out a lot lately, dear. Have you met someone?" your mama inquired, her voice filled with maternal concern.
You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing to find the right words. "Uh, yeah. A friend," you finally replied, trying to sound casual.
A playful glint appeared in her eyes as she continued to work with the chicken. "Just a friend?" she teased, her tone teasingly insistent.
Your cheeks reddened slightly, and you cursed yourself for stuttering. "Y-yeah," you managed to say.
A thoughtful expression crossed your mother's face as she paused in her cooking. "Will I ever get to meet him?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
You paused for a moment, weighing the idea in your mind. Alfie was undeniably much older and more intimidating than you had initially let on. The prospect of introducing him to your mom felt daunting, and you weren't sure if you were ready to take that step.
"I don't know," you replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
⛓🥀⛓ "Why don't we play a little game, yeah?" Alfie suggested with a sly grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Alfie and you were sitting side by side on his bed, your legs stretched out comfortably across his own. The deep crimson dress clung to your every curve, the fabric soft against your skin. You couldn't help but smile as you remembered the day Alfie had given it to you. It was a symbol of his affection, a tangible reminder of the connection that had grown between you. x
"What kind of game?" You inquired, your curiosity piqued, though a hint of apprehension crept into your voice.
"Have you ever play tag?" Alfie asked, his gaze intent, locking onto yours.
You nodded slowly, recalling the childhood game and wondering where this was leading.
"Something like that... a little game where you run and hide, and I come hunt you," Alfie explained, his eyes taking on a more ominous hue, like a predator assessing its prey.
"Hunt?" You questioned, your surprise and growing unease evident in your voice.
"Yeah," Alfie replied, a chilling smile playing on his lips. "You've gotta try not to get caught." 
The dark undertone in his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of danger.
"Well, how do I win, then? I can't just keep running forever," you chuckled nervously, attempting to ease the tension that had settled between you.
Alfie's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. "You've gotta make sure I don't catch you within an hour. If you manage that, you win."
A playful grin tugged at your lips as you teased, "And what's my prize if I win?"
Alfie's gaze deepened as he leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a husky murmur, "Anything you want, Dove."
Your heart raced at his enticing offer, and you couldn't resist pushing further, "And if you manage to catch me?"
Alfie's smirk grew more seductive, and he whispered with an alluring charm, "Then, my dear, I get to have my way with you until the hour's up."
A shiver ran up your spine at his suggestive words. You couldn't deny the allure of his proposal, tinged with danger and excitement. Despite the unease that still lingered in the back of your mind, you found yourself drawn to the challenge, to the thrill of the chase.
Alfie stepped back, giving you a bit of space as he added, "But don't worry, love, I'll give you a head start. You'll have five minutes to run and hide before I come after you."
Your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and trepidation as you nodded in agreement. The game had been set, and you were determined to give him a run for his money.
"Where are we playing this?" you asked, your eagerness apparent in your voice.
"In the woods," Alfie replied with a sly grin.
The woods. His territory. Your stomach flipped, knowing that the game was about to unfold in a place where Alfie held the advantage. Still, the thrill of the chase and the chance to outsmart him drove you forward. 
You remained at Alfie's house, perched on the edge of anticipation and curiosity. The prospect of the upcoming game had your heart racing. As you glanced around the cosy interior, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The woods loomed just beyond the walls, a constant reminder of where the game would take place.
Alfie stood up, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. His earlier proposition, filled with suggestive promise, hung in the air between you like an unspoken challenge. You had accepted, partly driven by a desire to win but also intrigued by the enigmatic man before you.
With a subtle nod, Alfie led you toward the door that opened up to the thick woods surrounding his house. As you stepped outside, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The air felt cooler, and the sounds of nature enveloped you. The forest seemed to come alive with rustling leaves and distant chirping birds.
Alfie leaned casually against the door frame, the confident tilt of his head making him seem all the more enigmatic. He reached into his pocket, retrieving a gleaming pocket watch. With a slow, deliberate movement, he handed it over to you. The polished surface of the watch reflected the muted light filtering through the trees, and you couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship before flipping it open.
The intricate watch face displayed the time: 3:58. Your heart quickened as you observed the minutes ticking away. Alfie's voice brought you back to the present, his words dripping with both anticipation and amusement.
"When that clock hits 4, my little Dove," he whispered, his voice a seductive murmur, "you have an hour to run."
With those final words, Alfie pushed away from the door frame, his eyes locked onto yours. The gravity of the challenge settled over you like a cloak, and you knew that the next hour would be a test of both your wits and your ability to evade the captivating and elusive man who had lured you into this game.
Alfie closed the door behind him, leaving you alone to contemplate the impending challenge. The quietude of the room seemed to amplify the ticking of the pocket watch in your hand. Each second that passed felt like an eternity, and you could feel the weight of the forthcoming game pressing down on you.
With a deep breath, you steeled yourself for what lay ahead. The allure of the hunt, the thrill of the chase, and the enigmatic Alfie waiting beyond the door all combined to create a heady mixture of excitement and trepidation. As the watch's second hand inched ever closer to the hour mark, your heart raced, and you prepared to embark on a game that would test the boundaries of your fear and desire.
Looking down at your bare feet, you briefly contemplated the idea of grabbing your shoes, only to remember that you had worn your nice ones. The elegant footwear might be fitting for a stroll in the garden but would be wholly unsuitable for the game you were about to play. You decided that going barefoot would be the better option, even if it meant navigating the forest's uneven terrain without the protection of shoes.
3:59.
Looking down at your wine-red dress, you couldn't help but curse yourself for your choice of attire. It was a beautiful garment, but utterly impractical for blending into the woods. You'd stick out like a sore thumb, and that realisation left you with no other option – running was your best bet. A tingling sensation of anticipation coursed through your body as the seconds ticked away, each moment edging closer to the start of the game.
30 seconds. 
As you stood there, the seconds on the pocket watch ticking away, your heart raced in anticipation. The last few seconds felt like an eternity. Every passing moment heightened your sense of excitement and trepidation. You could hear the faint rustling of leaves outside, a soft breeze whispering through the trees, as if nature itself were conspiring with Alfie in this exhilarating game.
With each tick of the watch, your breathing quickened, and your thoughts raced. The reality of what was about to happen washed over you. You were about to embark on a thrilling chase through the woods, pursued by the enigmatic and seductive Alfie. It was a dangerous game, but the exhilaration was undeniable.
At last, the final moments arrived. The watch's minute hand reached 12, marking the hour, and the second hand swept past 60. With a deep breath and a racing heart, you pushed yourself off the door and stepped out into the woods, ready to begin this electrifying game of cat and mouse with Alfie.
The forest seemed to close in around you as you sprinted without hesitation. Your footsteps were swift and purposeful, and although fear coursed through your veins, you couldn't deny the exhilaration that came with the adrenaline pumping through your body. Each stride you took was filled with determination, propelling you deeper into the woods.
The tangled underbrush and uneven terrain made each step a challenge, but you pushed forward, your instincts guiding you to choose the best path. The sound of leaves crunching beneath your feet echoed in the quiet forest, and your breaths came in rapid bursts, mingling with the crisp air.
Every now and then, you cast a fleeting glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see Alfie already hot on your heels. The thought of him chasing you through the woods added an extra layer of excitement to your sprint, and it was as if you were living out a thrilling fantasy.
The minutes ticked by, but you kept running, pushing your limits, determined not to be caught before the hour was up. 
As you navigated the hilly terrain, the constant ups and downs made it impossible to catch a glimpse of the house. It had disappeared from your view entirely, hidden behind the thick foliage and undulating landscape. The forest around you was a labyrinth of trees and shadows, and you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of isolation.
With each step you took, the distance between you and Alfie increased, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were truly alone in this vast, mysterious forest. The sense of freedom and exhilaration mingled with a creeping unease, and you couldn't help but wonder if you were the hunter or the hunted in this dangerous game.
Your breaths came out in heavy puffs as you gradually slowed down to a brisk walk, stealing a glance at the pocket watch clutched tightly in your hand.
4:03.
A rush of excitement coursed through your veins. In just two minutes, Alfie would be released, ready to hunt you down. With a touch of luck, you hoped he would head in the opposite direction from where you had run, giving you a precious head start in this heart-pounding game of survival. 
As you continued your brisk walk, the forest around you seemed to close in, the tangled trees forming a canopy that obscured the sky. Every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs made your heart race, imagining Alfie lurking behind every shadowy tree. The woods were dense, filled with hidden paths, and you hoped to lose him in the labyrinthine tangle of nature.
4:05. 
Glancing at the time on the pocket watch, you felt your heart leap into your throat. You finally stopped and crouched behind a large, gnarled oak tree, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Silence surrounded you, broken only by the sounds of your own rapid breathing. Your eyes darted to the pocket watch. Two minutes had passed, and Alfie was now unleashed.
Your ears strained for any sign of movement, any clue to Alfie's whereabouts. The anticipation was excruciating as you braced yourself for the chase that was about to begin. Time was your ally and your enemy, and you knew that the stakes were high in this game of hide and seek.
The tension in the air was palpable as you crouched behind the tree, your breaths coming in shallow, hushed gasps. Hiding had not been your initial strategy, but the weight of the game had settled on your shoulders, and you couldn't help but feel as though every tree, every rustling leaf, had eyes fixed upon you.
A sense of urgency compelled you to move, to put as much distance as possible between yourself and Alfie, but your limbs felt strangely uncooperative. Fear and excitement intermingled within you, creating a heady cocktail of emotions that made your body feel both heavy and electrified. You knew that the next hour would test not only your physical endurance but also your mental fortitude as you tried to outwit the enigmatic man who pursued you through the labyrinthine forest.
As you finally picked yourself up from the forest floor, a sense of cautious relief washed over you. The tree that had concealed you moments ago now lay behind, and a sweeping glance of your surroundings revealed no immediate sign of Alfie. You let out an unsteady breath, the cool air filling your lungs as you ventured deeper into the forest.
Each step you took was measured, your senses heightened to every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs. The woods, a place of serenity just moments before, now harboured an atmosphere of tension. With each cautious step, you crept further into the heart of the forest, your eyes scanning for any hint of movement or sound that might betray Alfie's presence. The thrill of the game coursed through your veins, mingling with your sense of unease. The forest had transformed into an enigmatic labyrinth, and you were determined to navigate its challenges, no matter what lay ahead.
4:16.
Your cautious exploration of the forest continued, each footfall echoing with your apprehension. The minutes stretched on, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Alfie could appear at any moment. Despite your determination to stay alert, your legs began to grow weary, their protest a reminder of the physical toll your fear was taking on you. 
You couldn't help but wonder why your stamina seemed to be dwindling faster than you expected. Perhaps it was the relentless anxiety that had been building since the start of this game, or the constant adrenaline coursing through your veins. Regardless, you couldn't afford to let exhaustion overtake you now. With a deep breath, you steeled yourself to push forward, determined to outlast Alfie and claim victory in this twisted game of cat and mouse.
Your gaze swept upward to the towering trees that surrounded you. The thought crossed your mind: would climbing a tree be considered cheating? It was a tempting idea, a way to gain an advantage in this high-stakes game of pursuit and evasion. But the rules of this perilous game were unclear, and you had no guarantee that Alfie wouldn't do the same. The woods were his domain, and you were merely a player in his twisted game.
As you stood at the base of the towering tree, your gaze wandered up its formidable trunk, tracing the intricate network of roots that snaked across the forest floor like nature's own artwork. The bark, rough and textured beneath your fingertips, provided an unexpected comfort as you began your climb. The tree's ancient branches, strong and gnarled, offered a labyrinthine path upwards, guiding you like an old friend leading you through a secret world.
The initial ascent was a thrilling challenge, the sensation of your hands gripping bark and your feet finding purchase on the uneven surface exhilarating. Your heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as you ascended further into the forest canopy. Each foothold and handhold seemed to have been crafted by nature herself, and your nimble movements belied your initial hesitation.
Eventually, you reached a stable branch that cradled you like a natural throne. A dense canopy of leaves arched above, forming a verdant umbrella that concealed you from prying eyes below. It was here, perched amid the rustling leaves and filtered sunlight, that you felt a surge of triumphant relief. The forest stretched out beneath you like an unexplored realm, and for now, you were its hidden observer. A sense of victory washed over you as you caught your breath, but the game's suspense still lingered, a subtle undercurrent to your newfound sanctuary.
As you perched in your leafy hideout, the vibrant emerald foliage surrounded you, creating a natural fortress. The tree's rough bark pressed against your skin, grounding you in this newfound sanctuary. The forest below sprawled out like an endless tapestry of greens and browns, with sunlight filtering through the dense canopy, dappling the ground in shifting patterns of light and shadow.
From your lofty position, you could see the intricate dance of leaves, swaying gently in the breeze, and hear the distant murmurs of the forest's inhabitants. The woods seemed like a world of its own, a secret realm where you had temporarily taken refuge.
4:32.
Minutes passed like a languid river, each second stretching out into an eternity. The mischievous giggle that had escaped your lips earlier now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by the solemn realisation that this game was far more intense than you had initially imagined. Despite the temporary respite, the thrill of the chase continued to course through your veins, and the sense of impending discovery hung heavy in the air.
You remained perched among the leaves, your breaths coming slow and measured, every rustle and creak of the forest making you jump with anticipation. The minutes dragged on, and doubt began to creep into your mind. What if I can’t get down? What if Aflie has already given up looking? Despite the uncertainty, you couldn't bring yourself to climb down just yet. The adrenaline, the fear, and the excitement had woven themselves into a complex tapestry that you couldn't easily unravel.
A bored sigh escaped your lips as you leaned your head against the tree. You couldn't help but admit that your own choices had contributed to your growing boredom. Instead of actively exploring the forest and keeping up the pace, you had opted for a more passive strategy, perched up a tree like a lazy observer. 
Frustration welled up inside you as you berated yourself for not being more proactive. This game was your chance to outsmart Alfie, to prove that you could evade his pursuit, and yet here you were, feeling like you were squandering your advantage. With a renewed sense of determination, you pushed away from the tree, resolved to rejoin the hunt and claim the upper hand once more.
Your fleeting moment of bravery quickly gave way to uncertainty as you looked down from your treetop refuge. Questions flooded your mind: What if Alfie walks past while I’m climbing down? You couldn't help but curse your own hesitation and perceived cowardice.
Glancing at the nearby trees, you began to wonder about the possibilities. How close was that tree over there? The idea of moving from tree to tree might seem foolish, but in your anxious state, it also felt like a potential advantage. The forest's canopy appeared interconnected, offering the chance for you to remain hidden while on the move. With a mix of apprehension and determination, you decided to cautiously explore this daring idea, hoping it would pay off and give you an edge in the game.
Balancing on the sturdy branch, you gripped another limb for stability. With careful steps, you inched your way along the branch, approaching the intertwining branches of nearby trees.
As you moved, the leaves rustled softly beneath your feet, and a slight breeze tousled your hair. The forest around you seemed to come alive with the sounds of birds singing and leaves whispering secrets to one another. The sensation of being suspended among the trees filled you with a strange mix of exhilaration and trepidation. 
Reaching the second tree, you let out a sigh of relief, feeling a renewed sense of confidence. The pocket watch Alfie had entrusted you with felt like a comforting weight in your hand. You flipped it open to check the time, the delicate ticking of its mechanism filling your ears as you saw the numbers.
4:37.
As you checked the pocket watch again, you noted with a sense of relief that not much time had passed since your last glance. The tiny, delicate hands of the watch revealed that there were only 23 more minutes left. A surge of determination coursed through you as you continued to strategize your next moves, determined to stay one step ahead of Alfie.
Your momentary celebration was cut short by a distant sound, faint yet unmistakable – footsteps. Panic surged through you, causing your breath to hitch. Clutching the tree trunk tightly, you tilted your head to the side to peer past it. There, in the dim distance, a moving silhouette came into focus – it was Alfie.
Fear coursing through your veins, you wasted no time. Quickly, you darted behind the tree for cover, your heart pounding in your chest as you hoped against hope that Alfie hadn't spotted you.
Panic surged through your mind, your thoughts racing at a frantic pace. Desperately, you clung to the tree, hugging its rough bark as if it were your only lifeline. Your silent prayer was for the leaves to be your saviours, concealing you from Alfie's searching gaze. You cursed your choice of attire, realising that your dress was making this whole ordeal much more challenging.
The deliberate and predatory sound of Alfie's footsteps grew louder with each passing moment, sending shivers of fear coursing through your body. His approaching presence felt suffocating, and the thought of him drawing closer to the very tree you were hiding in couldn't be worse luck. Your heart raced, and you pressed yourself tighter against the tree, desperately hoping that the leaves and branches would continue to shield you from his view.
With trembling hands, you quickly tucked the flowing fabric of your dress between your legs, holding it in place to prevent it from billowing out and giving away your position. The soft rustling of leaves and the distant sound of his footsteps filled the air as Alfie drew nearer, and you knew that remaining still and hidden was your only chance of evading his pursuit.
As you moved stealthily around the tree, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His predatory aura seemed to grow stronger, sending a shiver down your spine. Every step he took was calculated and deliberate, and the intensity of his presence felt suffocating. You pressed yourself tightly against the rough bark, your breath shallow and your heart pounding in your chest.
The seconds felt like hours as you watched him, hoping against hope that he would move on. The fear inside you churned, and you prayed that your hiding spot among the leaves and branches would keep you concealed. The tension in the air was palpable, and the forest seemed to hold its breath, as if aware that something pivotal was about to happen.
Your breath caught in your throat, and with legs trembling like leaves in the wind, you cautiously and silently shuffled around the thick trunk to the opposite side, all the while keeping your fearful gaze locked on him.
Your eyes remained fixated on Alfie, watching his every move with rapt attention. His actions became more intriguing by the moment. He seemed lost in deep contemplation, slowly turning in place as if searching for something. A sense of unease washed over you as you noticed his deep, deliberate breaths, drawn in through his nose. It was as though he were sniffing the air, his senses acutely attuned to the surroundings.
Dread crept over you like a shadow, and you dared not make a sound. What was he searching for? Has he caught a trace of your presence? The forest seemed to hold its breath along with you, and the suspense was almost unbearable. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you waited in fearful anticipation of his next move.
Your rational mind tried to reassure you that it was impossible for him to detect your scent from your elevated perch. Even with a hint of perfume, you were far too high above the ground, and the brisk wind that rustled the leaves masked any fragrance that might have given you away. But despite your logical reasoning, a gnawing sense of uncertainty persisted, like a seed of doubt taking root in your mind. The adrenaline coursing through your veins was a stark reminder that, in this thrilling and perilous game, anything could happen.
His frustration was palpable, etching lines of irritation onto his face. A low growl rumbled from his throat, a guttural sound that carried through the forest. The sight and sound of his growing exasperation sent a shiver down your spine, intensifying the heart-pounding fear that coursed through your veins. In that moment, you realised just how determined he was to catch you, and the danger of this deadly game became all too real.
With a simmering anger that seemed to radiate from his very being, you could see Alfie stomp off into the distance, his movements filled with frustration and pent-up aggression. It felt as though a tremendous weight had been lifted from your shoulders as he moved farther away, leaving you with a sense of profound relief. You silently thanked the heavens for his failure to look up, realising that you had narrowly escaped his clutches for the time being.
4:41.
After a considerable pause, you carefully decided that the best course of action was to climb down from the tree and run off in the opposite direction Alife had just gone. The rough bark scraped against your hands as you carefully manoeuvred down, your muscles tense with the anticipation of every creak and rustle of leaves underfoot. The forest seemed to hold its breath as you lowered yourself to the ground, your mind racing with thoughts of how to outwit the relentless predator who was still in the vicinity. The earth felt cool beneath your bare feet as you finally touched down, and you took a moment to survey your surroundings, keenly aware that every second counted.
4:46
As your feet touched the ground, you couldn't help but release a sigh of relief, feeling the solidity of the earth beneath your bare soles. Your steps became increasingly careless, almost triumphant, as you ventured away from the tree. In that moment, you tasted the sweet flavour of victory, knowing there were less than 15 minutes remaining before the game concluded. The thought that Alfie was likely wandering somewhere deep within the forest heightened your sense of triumph, and you walked with newfound confidence.
Oh, but how wrong you were.
"Was my little Dove hiding in the trees?" he taunted, his gaze filled with a predatory gleam that made your stomach churn with dread.
Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of Alfie's voice, the very voice that had once been a source of comfort and charm, now laced with a sinister edge. His sudden appearance sent a shiver down your spine as you turned to face him, your momentary triumph fading into the chilling realisation that he had found you.
Your head whipped around, and there, standing behind a tree not far from you, was Alfie. He had never left; he had been lurking in the shadows the entire time. A cocky smile played on his lips as he watched your startled reaction, revelling in the thrill of the hunt.
With a quick turn, you bolted in the opposite direction, your heart pounding as adrenaline surged through your veins. It was just a game, but the thrill of being chased was undeniably exhilarating. Alfie was undoubtedly a big man and didn't hesitate to use it to his advantage. His hearty laugh echoed through the woods as he gave chase, his powerful strides closing the gap between you. The forest around you blurred as you ran, the world reduced to the sound of your rapid breaths and the pounding of your heart. 
The pounding of your heart seemed to reverberate in your ears as you sprinted through the dense woods, knowing that Alfie was hot on your tail. The fear that coursed through you was almost paralysing, and you dared not look back to see how close he was. The branches and underbrush seemed to claw at your clothes and skin as you pushed yourself to run faster, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. The thrill of the chase mixed with the dread of being caught, creating a maelstrom of emotions that left you both terrified and exhilarated.
In an instant, Alfie's strong and relentless grip closed around you, and you let out a piercing scream as he tackled you to the ground. The impact was sudden and jarring, and the forest floor pressed against your back, stealing the breath from your lungs. The fear that had been simmering just below the surface now erupted in a torrent of panic, and you struggled against his hold, desperately trying to break free.
"Now, Dove... I won. That means..." Alfie paused, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the pocket watch once more. He flipped it open and peered at the time. "I have 12 minutes to have my fun with you." His voice held a sinister edge, and a cold chill settled in the pit of your stomach as you realised the consequences of losing the game.
Your body ignited with a mixture of emotions as Alfie's words sank in. Without hesitation, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. His mouth was hot and demanding, pulling you into a fiery embrace that left you breathless and overwhelmed. As Alfie continued to kiss you passionately, his hands roamed over your body. Your initial fear and resistance began to wane, giving way to a heady mix of desire and surrender.
His lips left yours to trail a path of heated kisses along your jawline and down your neck, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You couldn't help but gasp in response to his skilled touch.
Alfie's voice, rough and seductive, whispered into your ear, "You belong to me, little Dove. Always have..”
Alfies predatory presence gave you an overwhelming sensation of fear and desire. Your heart raced, and your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as Alfie continued his passionate assault.
His hands, firm yet gentle, explored every curve of your body, leaving a trail of heat and anticipation in their wake. It was as though he knew every secret, every hidden desire, and he was determined to awaken them all.
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and you surrendered to the intoxication of the moment. As Alfie's lips sought yours once more, your world narrowed down to the sensations he elicited, and the minutes slipped away, taking you deeper into the enticing darkness of his touch.
Alfie felt the urgency mounting as he realised that time was slipping away, and there was so much he wanted to do in this brief window. The minutes were ticking by, each one more precious than the last.
Alfie yanked up your dress, dragging the fabric past your hips, exposing your cotton underwear and bare thighs to his piercing gaze. A mix of excitement and anticipation coursed through you as you surrendered to Alfie's desires, knowing that he had only a few precious minutes left to claim you in every way he desired.
Your breath hitched as Alfie's hands roved over your exposed skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Every touch, every brush of his lips against your neck, sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. With each passing second, the urgency between the two of you escalated, driving you both to the edge of ecstasy.
You sensed the battle within Alfie, as he struggled to contain his primal desires. The intensity in his gaze grew more fervent, and you could see his self-control slowly slipping away like sand through his fingers. 
“Come on, Alfie..10 minutes.” You spoke with a whispered tease, you encouraged him to give in to his deepest cravings, to let go of restraint and unleash the passion that had been building between you.
At that moment, Alfie's restaurant shattered like fragile glass. His movements became more urgent, his grasp on your body tighter. The air crackled with anticipation as he surrendered to the raw hunger that consumed him. With a primal growl, he claimed you completely, losing himself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
Alfie's kisses became frantic, his lips hungrily exploring every inch of your exposed skin. His hands roamed feverishly, gripping your body possessively as if he couldn't get enough. Each touch, each kiss was sloppy yet intoxicating, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. In his fervour, Alfie lost himself in the depths of raw desire, consumed by the need to indulge in the forbidden pleasure that consumed the both of you.
Senses heightened, time seemed to freeze as Alfie pressed his throbbing length against your clothed entrance. The friction ignited a blaze of desire, fueling the intensity of the moment. Your bodies moved in sync, locked in a passionate rhythm that defied all reason. The world around you faded as you surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure, consumed by the electric connection that pulsed between you.
Lost in a haze of unfathomable pleasure, the world around you blurred into obscurity. You let your head fall back on the damp leaves, busking in the pleasure Alfie was bringing you. All that mattered was the maddening sensation of Alfie's lips on your neck, sending tendrils of electric bliss coursing through your veins. As his hips moved with a desperate urgency, each motion amplified the intensity of pleasure, forging an unbreakable connection that fueled the ecstasy between you.
“My pretty little Dove likes when I play with her on the filthy ground, yeah?."
Eyes filled with an adoring passion, Alfie whispered praises against your skin, each word a testament to the power of your connection. In between gasps and moans, he exalted your beauty, your alluring presence that had mesmerised him from the very beginning. His fervent admiration fueled the fire within, intensifying the pleasure that engulfed you both, as you became lost in a world where only the two of you existed.
As the heat of desire consumed you, your legs instinctively wrapped around Alfie's hips, locking you in an intimate embrace. With each movement, clothed areas rubbed against each other, igniting waves of pleasure that surged through your bodies. The friction intensified, amplifying the sensations that coursed through every fibre of your being. In this euphoric dance, you and Alfie surrendered to the primal urges, losing yourselves in a symphony of pleasure and desire.
“You’re mine, pretty..you’re mine and I’m never gonna let you go.” he gently bit your earlobe.
Surging with an overwhelming hunger, Alfie's lips trailed down from your ear, leaving a blazing path of fiery kisses. His teeth grazed your delicate skin, marking you with his possessive desire. The sensation of his lips and tongue against your neck ignited a wildfire within, consuming your senses and leaving you yearning for more of his intoxicating touch.
As Alfie rutted into your sensitive core with a primal intensity, the ache of desire built to an unbearable peak. Every thrust brought you closer to the edge, the intensity mounting with each passing moment. Your body tensed, on the precipice of release, as a symphony of pleasure reverberated through every inch of your being, ready to explode in a crescendo of ecstasy.
“A-Alfie, Alfie! I’m so fucking close,” your voice trembled with need.
The blissful torment of ecstasy radiated through your veins, intensifying with each passing second. Uncontrollable moans escaped your parted lips, mingling with the rhythm of your bodies, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you.
4:58.
Unable to resist the intoxicating sound of your voice, Alfie quickened his pace, his movements becoming more fervent as he relentlessly chased your climax. The air crackled with a palpable energy as your bodies moved in sync, a symphony of desire and pleasure.
“Come on, sweetie.” Alfie encouraged you. “You can do it. Let go.”
With a voice dripping in encouragement, Alfie's words propelled you further towards the edge of euphoria. Every syllable he uttered was laced with a magnetic force that urged you to surrender to the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The weight of his words pushed you past your limits, releasing all inhibitions as you succumbed to the overwhelming ecstasy building within.
In a breathless moment of pure ecstasy, you shattered, your whole being consumed by an overwhelming release that left you gasping for air and utterly spent, lost in the blissful aftershocks of pleasure.
As the echoes of your climax still reverberated through your body, Alfie's relentless grinding fueled the flames of desire within you. His determination to reach his own release only intensified the raw passion between you, the friction electrifying the air. With each grinding motion, you felt the tension building, his pursuit of pleasure mirroring your own, until finally, with a guttural moan, he found his release, the intensity of his orgasm echoing the powerful connection you shared.
As the echoes of pleasure subsided, you were left throbbing with heightened sensitivity, your body pulsating with every heartbeat. Waves of pleasure coursed through your clit as it throbbed, yearning for more stimulation, while your empty hole ached, a reminder of the intense pleasure that had consumed you. The lingering sensation kept you suspended in a state of euphoria, aching for the next touch, the next moment of bliss.
Breathless and consumed by the aftermath of your passionate encounter, Alfie showered gentle kisses on your shoulders, his lips a tender caress against your heated skin. The soft touch of his affectionate gestures contrasted beautifully with the fiery intensity that had consumed you moments ago. Then, with a loving gaze, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that spoke of his adoration and desire, imprinting the moment in your memory as a testament to the deep connection you shared.
"That was certainly...different," you replied with a chuckle, still trying to catch your breath.
Alfie rose from the ground and extended a hand to help you up. He gently brushed down your skirt, getting rid of any dirt and leaves that clung to it. 
"A fucking good game, that's what I'd call it," Alfie quipped with a smirk, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Are you feeling alright?" Alfie inquired with a hint of concern. You nodded and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as he led you back towards his house. The journey back was a comfortable one, filled with the shared excitement of the day's adventure and the unspoken connection that seemed to deepen with each passing moment.
⛓🥀⛓ "Fuck, I'm knackered," you exclaimed, collapsing onto Alfie's bed.
He chuckled, joining you and settling down beside you.
Alfie looked at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, it's been quite a day, hasn't it, little Dove?"
You couldn't help but smile in response, the events of the day still fresh in your mind. "It certainly has, Alfie."
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You know, I can't help but think we make a good fucking couple, you and I."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you found yourself drawn to him, the magnetic pull between you undeniable. "Yes, Alfie, we do."
Alfie leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself yearning for more, but practicality still holds sway.
"Just sleep, okay.”
"I can't, Alfie," you whispered, your breath slightly uneven. "My mama will be waiting for me at home."
His brows furrowed at the mention of your mother, but you chose to disregard it for the moment. "Then I'll wake you in 30 minutes," he replied softly, his fingers tracing light patterns on your cheek.
You let out a small sigh, giving in to his persistence. "Alright," you said, a playful glint in your eye. "But you better make sure to wake me up."
Alfie's lips curved into a satisfied smile as you relented, and he leaned in closer, brushing a soft kiss across your forehead. "Don't you worry, Dove," he murmured. "I'll make sure you get up on time." With that, he settled beside you, and you felt a sense of warmth and security enveloping you as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.
⛓🥀⛓ You were standing alone in a dense, eerily silent forest. The towering trees loomed overhead, their branches entwined like skeletal fingers reaching out to you. The moon cast an eerie pallor on the surroundings, rendering everything in shades of grey. A cold, misty fog slithered between the trees, obscuring your vision.
As you began to walk cautiously through the forest, a feeling of foreboding settled in your chest. The ground beneath your feet felt soft and unstable, as if it could give way at any moment. You tried to call out, but your voice was muffled by the oppressive silence.
In the distance, you could hear faint, chilling whispers that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. These whispers carried fragments of your own fears and anxieties, like a twisted chorus of your inner demons.
As you pressed on, you noticed a figure in the distance. It was obscured by the fog, but you could sense its presence, an unsettling aura that seemed to draw you closer against your will. With every step, the whispers grew louder, the forest darker, and the figure more menacing.
Finally, you reached the figure, and as the mist began to dissipate, you saw its face—distorted, shifting, and finally revealing itself as a grotesque amalgamation of all the fears and uncertainties that had been plaguing you.
⛓🥀⛓ As you stirred from your restless sleep at Alfie's house, the first glimmers of dawn painted the room in a soft, pale light. Panic gripped your heart as you realised you had slept through the night, far longer than you had ever intended. Your mother, you thought with growing anxiety, must have been frantic with worry for your safety. Guilt weighed heavy on your chest as you imagined the hours she had spent, imagining the worst. 
The room was silent, devoid of any clues about Alfie's whereabouts. You called out his name, your voice quivering with a mix of anxiety and confusion, but received no response. With every passing moment, the sense of unease deepened, leaving you with an eerie feeling that something had changed in the blink of an eye. Still, the pressing need to reassure your worried mother eclipsed any other concerns. Gathering your belongings hastily, you made your way to the door, your heart pounding as you prepared to confront whatever awaited you at home, unaware of the chilling truth that would soon shatter your world.
As you descended the creaking wooden staircase, your voice echoed through the once-familiar hallways, but there was no response, not even the faintest rustle to indicate Alfie's presence. The eerie silence seemed to have seeped into every corner of your home, casting an unsettling feeling over the place. You couldn't help but worry about your mother's reaction to your unexpected absence, especially given her concern for your safety.
"Alfie?" you called again, a touch of desperation creeping into your voice. The idea of venturing into the forest alone at night was daunting, and the thought gnawed at the edges of your resolve, making you hesitate at the threshold of the open door. The inky darkness outside seemed more menacing than ever, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, something you couldn't quite put your finger on.
The heavy, ominous sounds from outside froze you in your tracks, anxiety clawing at your chest. Your initial fear that it might be a wild dog or some other menacing presence lingered like a shadow, preventing you from daring to venture out into the unknown. However, when the shrill, piercing scream of a little boy pierced the air, your heart plummeted to the pit of your stomach, and panic gripped you like a vice. Your thoughts raced, torn between fear and a growing sense of responsibility, leaving you paralyzed with uncertainty, not knowing how to react to the distressing cries echoing through the night.
The scream pierced through the night, chilling you to the bone. It was unmistakably the cry of a child, filled with terror and desperation. Panic gripped your heart as you tried to make sense of the horrifying sound. Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts, torn between your fear of the unknown outside and the instinctual urge to help someone in distress.
You hesitated for only a moment before a surge of courage propelled you forward. Carefully, you inched closer to the window, peering outside into the inky blackness. Moonlight barely pierced the thick canopy of trees, casting eerie shadows that danced like spectres in the night. The forest appeared more ominous than ever, but the cries of the child pushed you to take action.
With trembling hands, you grabbed a lantern from a nearby table, lighting it with a match. The soft glow illuminated your determined face as you steeled yourself for what lay ahead. 
The heart-wrenching screams outside were impossible to ignore, tugging at your very soul. Yet, along with your concern for the helpless child, a profound sense of foreboding gripped you. The chilling possibility loomed that this horrifying ordeal might be linked to the elusive and dreaded figure the townsfolk whispered about—the so-called "boogeyman." Balancing the fear for your own safety with the moral obligation to help, you felt trapped in a nightmarish dilemma, caught between the unknown and the undeniable cries for help echoing through the forest.
Grabbing the shotgun at the front door and tightly gripping it in your trembling hands, you burst out of the house and sprinted towards the source of the child's screams. The horrifying sounds continued to reverberate in your ears until, abruptly, they ceased, plunging the night into an eerie silence. Tears brimmed your eyes. Your heart raced, and you slowed your pace, straining your senses to pick up any telltale signs. What met your ears was the gruesome, gut-wrenching sound of crunching, a sound that could only be attributed to something unspeakably dreadful happening to the poor boy. Fear and determination mingled within you as you pressed forward, ready to confront the unimaginable.
With the lantern casting flickering shadows around you, you clutched the shotgun with both hands, your fingers trembling uncontrollably. Each step you took towards the back of the house felt like an eternity, your heart pounding louder with every passing second. The darkness seemed to grow thicker, and you hesitated, torn between the compulsion to face the unknown and the instinct to flee. But you couldn't turn away; you had to know. Taking a deep breath, you inched around the corner, your body tense and ready to react.
The sight that greeted you was nothing short of nightmarish. In the dim glow of the lantern, you saw a large, grotesque creature, its form so twisted and inhuman that words failed to describe it adequately. Yet, one detail stood out starkly— it was feeding. Your blood ran cold as you witnessed the horror unfolding before you, the creature indulging in an unspeakable act that sent chills down your spine. Your grip on the shotgun tightened, your trembling hands steadying as you faced the unimaginable.
As you stood there, frozen in disbelief and fear, the impossible happened before your eyes. The grotesque creature you had confronted began to contort and shift, its body creaking and cracking as it transformed. Slowly, it shrank and twisted until it took on a more recognizable human form. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched in awe and terror, unable to comprehend the unnatural metamorphosis.
But as the figure became clearer in the dim light of the lantern around the side of the house, your breath caught in your throat. It was a person—a man. A shiver ran down your spine as you recognized the face, the eyes, and the unmistakable presence. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now bore an unsettling emptiness that sent a chill down your spine. Alfie's dishevelled appearance was a stark contrast to the man you had grown close to, and the realisation that he had been living a double life filled you with a mixture of dread and betrayal. The terror of the forest, the creature inhumanity, it had all been an act, a facade expertly maintained to conceal his true identity.
The gruesome sight before you, the blood-smeared face of Alfie, and the remnants of the innocent child left you frozen in shock. You couldn't fathom the horrors that had unfolded right in front of you, and the weight of the situation bore down on your shoulders.
"Alfie, what have you done?" Your voice quivered as you finally found the courage to speak, a mixture of fear, confusion, and anger coursing through your veins.
Alfie's expression shifted from one of cold indifference to a genuine surprise as he locked eyes with you. His blood-stained lips parted slightly, as if he was struggling to find words. For the first time since you'd met him, you had managed to catch him off guard, and the realisation that you had seen him in this monstrous form left him visibly shaken.
You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding as you stood there, gun trembling in your hands. Everything you thought you knew about Alfie had been shattered in an instant, and you were left with a chilling sense of dread and uncertainty.
"Dove?" Alfie's voice wavered, and he raised his hands in a mock display of innocence.
As you watched him take slow, deliberate steps towards you, fear surged through your veins. Without thinking, you turned on your heels and began to sprint. The shotgun slipped from your grasp as you bolted through the dense forest, your heart pounding with terror.
"Now, hang on just a second, Y/n," Alfie's voice quivered with desperation, each word laden with urgency, as he reached out toward your retreating form.
"Get away from me!" 
Your scream pierced through the forest, a shrill note of sheer terror that echoed among the trees. Your heart raced uncontrollably, hammering against your chest like a caged bird desperately seeking freedom. You struggled to escape Alfie's grasp, your movements fueled by a primal fear that threatened to consume you.
Blood continued to drip from Alfie's mouth, staining his lips a gruesome, unsettling crimson. His face contorted with anguish and despair, and he held his trembling hand up in a feeble attempt to appear innocent. But it was a futile gesture; you had seen the monstrous truth of what he had become.
As you darted further into the dense forest, your breath came in ragged gasps, and your surroundings seemed to blur into a frenzied collage of trees and shadows. Alfie's anguished calls reverberated through the woods, each word dripping with desperation and pleading. However, the image of his dark transformation had been etched indelibly into your mind, a horrifying revelation that she couldn't easily erase or forgive. You knew that the monstrous secret you had witnessed would forever haunt you.
Your heart raced as you stumbled through the thick underbrush of the forest, your breaths ragged and your mind a chaotic whirlwind of fear and confusion. Your eyes darted frantically from one shadowy tree to the next, searching for any sign of safety or escape.
"Y/n, you're not understanding," Alfie's voice echoed through the trees, but this time, there was a sinister edge to it, a veiled threat that sent shivers down your spine.
You refused to stop, refused to listen. Your legs carried her deeper into the forest, away from the looming figure that haunted your nightmares.
But just as you thought you might escape, a sudden burst of movement from behind made you stumble forward. Strong arms encircled your waist, and you were yanked back against a solid, unyielding chest.
Alfie's grip was like iron, his fingers digging into your skin. His voice, once soothing and charming, now dripped with malevolence as he whispered into your ear, "You can't run from me, little Dove. You belong to me."
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you struggled against his grasp, your terror giving you newfound strength. "Let me go!" you cried out, your voice quivering but resolute.
Alfie's laughter was a chilling sound that echoed through the forest. "You think you can escape the Boogeyman? You think you can escape me?"
Desperation fueled your fight as you continued to struggle, your mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. You knew you had to find help, someone who could protect you from the monster that had once seemed so charming and inviting. But escaping the clutches of the Boogeyman was no simple task, this was the monster that haunted the entire village.
"Please, let me go," you sobbed, your voice quivering with fear and desperation.
Tears cascaded down your face, their saltiness mingling with the perspiration that had gathered on your forehead. Alfie's unrelenting hold encircled you, his formidable arms enveloping your trembling form. A chilling shiver ran down your spine as his lips pressed forcefully against your temple, leaving a nauseating reminder of the blood that now smeared your face. His touch, once tender and affectionate, had taken on an eerie possessiveness that sent unsettling tremors through your being, a stark contradiction to the gentle demeanour he had shown mere moments before.
“You ate a child!” you cried out, your voice quivering with a mixture of shock and sorrow.
The weight of your accusation hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, a tense silence engulfed the room. Alfie's eyes, once warm and inviting, now bore into yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. The flickering firelight cast eerie shadows across his face, accentuating the depths of his enigmatic nature.
"I did what I had to do," Alfie finally spoke, his voice devoid of remorse, his gaze unyielding. "Survival in this world isn't fucking for the faint of heart, Y/n. You must understand that."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you grappled with the horrifying revelation. The man you had grown to care for was not just a mere stranger, but something far more sinister—a creature driven by a primal hunger and ruthless instincts. The conflict within you raged on, torn between the affection you had felt and the undeniable truth of his monstrous actions.
As the realisation settled in, a haunting question lingered in the air: How could you ever find your way back from the darkness that had ensnared you, and was there any hope for escape from the clutches of the Boogeyman?
“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/n…never.” Alfie whispered in your ear. 
“B-bullshit!” you sobbed.
"Why do you think those wild fucking animals haven't laid a finger on you, eh? You reckon they're just giving you a pass? I'm the reason you're safe, Y/n, the only one who can keep you safe," Alfie hissed with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
You couldn't help but feel a chill run down your spine at Alfie's words. The warmth and safety you had associated with him moments ago now felt like an illusion, shattered by his sudden intensity. His grip on your hand tightened, and you found yourself looking at him with a mixture of fear and confusion.
"But why?" you asked, still bewildered by this revelation.
"Because they can smell me on you," Alfie explained, his voice filled with an eerie calmness. "They won't go anywhere near you." It was as if he had marked you like an animal, leaving you with a chilling sense of vulnerability and an unsettling truth about the darkness that lurked within him.
"You’re the monster in these woods..why would I ever trust you!" you cried, your voice trembling slightly. The man before you, who had been both your protector and your confidant, now seemed like an entirely different person, and you couldn't fathom the reasons behind his abrupt change in demeanour.
Alfie's eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of regret pass through his gaze. He took a step closer, his expression softening slightly, but the tension in the air remained palpable.
"Dove, you've got it all wrong," Alfie began, his voice carrying a mixture of desperation and frustration. "I may not be a fucking saint, and I've done things I'm not proud of, but I've always kept you safe. Those creatures in the woods, they'd tear you apart without a second thought. I've protected you from them, and I'd do anything to keep you safe."
"That's not the point! You kill and eat children! You're a monster!" you cried, your voice quivering with a mix of terror and anger as you attempted to pull away from him.
Your words struck Alfie deep in his heart, like a dagger of truth cutting through his carefully constructed facade. He winced as the weight of his dark deeds bore down upon him, realising how he must appear in your eyes.
"I love you... I mean, I really fucking love you!" Alfie's voice quivered with desperation as he shook you aggressively, trying to break through to you. His words were laced with a fervent intensity, but the darkness in his actions left you torn between fear and the conflicted emotions you had for the man who had once been your protector and confidant.
"You're not fucking leaving me!" Alfie's voice grew even lower and darker, a haunting edge in his tone. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your arms, conveying both his desperation and possessiveness. The intensity of his emotions overwhelmed you, making it difficult to think clearly in the midst of this tumultuous revelation.
"No, no, no!" you cried, terror coursing through you as you struggled to break free, but Alfie's grip was unyielding. You felt utterly helpless in the hands of this monster you had grown to trust.
Alfie's face remained hard and devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to the man you had known. "You need to fucking shut your mouth," he snarled, his words laced with a venomous edge you had never heard before. "I can take away your protection just like that. You're coming with me, or you're gonna fucking die." The chilling threat hung heavy in the air, leaving you with an impossible choice, torn between your love for him and the horrifying reality of what he had become.
Alfie's grip remained unyielding on your arm as he forcefully pulled you back toward his home. Your desperate squirming and resistance only seemed to fuel his determination. But after a while, he seemed to grow tired of your futile attempts to break free. With a swift and unexpected motion, he hoisted you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, leaving you no choice but to dangle helplessly as he continued his march back to his home.
As Alfie carried you, slung over his shoulder like a captured prey, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within you. Fear, anger, and betrayal all fought for dominance in your racing mind. You had trusted this man, grown close to him, and now, he appeared to be a different person entirely.
The dread continued to consume you as Alfie approached his house, a place that had once felt like a refuge but now seemed like a prison. Your mind raced with questions, and fear gnawed at your insides. What did Alfie have planned for you? The uncertainty of your situation weighed heavily on you, making each step toward the ominous building feel like a step into the unknown.
You couldn't help but replay the events in your mind, trying to make sense of how everything had unravelled so quickly. The man who had once been your protector had become your captor, and you were left with a sinking feeling that escaping his clutches would be far from easy.
Fear and despair coursed through your veins as Alfie forcefully threw you onto his bed. Desperation gripped you, and you tried to crawl away when he turned his back, but he swiftly pushed you back down. The room seemed to close in around you, and you were paralyzed by your terror, unable to muster the strength to move.
Your sobs wracked your body, making it hard to catch your breath, as Alfie moved to a corner of the room. Dread washed over you when you saw him pull out a heavy chain, and your heart raced with panic. As he approached, you couldn't control your hysteria, and your cries grew louder, echoing through the room.
"Shush!" Alfie's voice was strained as he tried to calm you, but his actions only intensified your fear.
You fought against him, attempting to kick and scream, but his strength prevailed. With a roughness that sent shockwaves of pain through you, he forcefully attached a cuff to your ankle, rendering you powerless and captive in his grasp.
With the cold, unyielding chain now securing one of your ankles, you lay on Alfie's bed, trembling and sobbing uncontrollably. Panic gnawed at your senses as you tried to make sense of this nightmarish turn of events.
Alfie, his face a mixture of frustration and determination, took a step back, seemingly assessing the situation. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of remorse deep within his gaze. It was as if the man you once knew was battling the monstrous part of him that had emerged.
He let out a long sigh, his features softening slightly. "Dove," he began, his voice far gentler than before, "I didn't want it to come to this, but you left me no choice."
Fear still gripped you, but his change in demeanour gave you a glimmer of hope. "What do you want from me?" you choked out, your voice quivering.
"I want to keep you safe, just as I always have," he replied, his tone tinged with sadness. "But you need to understand, there are things out there that would harm you."
Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, but you couldn't ignore the sincerity in his words. As much as you wanted to escape, a part of you still clung to the bond you shared with Alfie, a bond that had once made you feel secure and cherished.
Alfie moved closer, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of understanding. "Dove, please try to see that I'm doing this to protect you. If you cooperate, I promise you'll be safe."
The room seemed to close in on you as your options dwindled. Home, your sanctuary, was now nothing but a distant memory. In the depths of despair, you understood that there was no escape from Alfie's grasp. The man who had once been your confidant had become your captor, and the realisation weighed heavily on your trembling shoulders.
A sickening realisation dawned upon you as Alfie's words hung in the air like a heavy shroud. The truth was undeniable, and it chilled you to your core: you were trapped, bound not just by physical chains but by the possessive and obsessive grip Alfie had on you.
Tears continued to stream down your face, mixing with the sobs that wracked your body. You couldn't fathom how the man you had once admired and trusted had become a terrifying stranger. The thought of never seeing your home or your loved ones again gnawed at your soul.
Alfie watched you, his expression a tumultuous mix of concern and torment. His grip on the chain tightened, and you flinched at the ominous sound of metal against metal.
"Dove," he said softly, his voice laden with sorrow, "I wish it didn't have to be this way. But you're mine, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."
In that moment, it became painfully clear that there was no escaping Alfie's possessive grasp. The forest that had once seemed full of mysteries and adventure had transformed into a prison of nightmares, and you were its unwilling captive.
As you lay there, chained and broken, the harsh reality of your fate washed over you like a suffocating wave. In the depths of the forest that had once held allure and promise, you had become a prisoner, trapped by the very man you had grown to care for. The outside world, with its warmth and freedom, felt like a distant memory, fading further with each passing moment. The forest had swallowed you whole, and in its depths, your cries for help were destined to remain unheard, forever lost to the shadows of the trees. ⛓🥀⛓ A/N: I really hoped you enjoyed this oneshot, I know I haven't posted in AGES but I've just been through a lot of stress when I last posted and ever since, I just haven't been in the mood to write anything so I'm really grateful for everyone who has supported me.
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