#alfie sprog

[coffeetoffeeart]

all lesbians need their weird little guy!! (varbu, she/her; alfie, he/him)

[grapeofsoda]

alfie n steven be nice to me the front bottoms. "we are running out of time we are running we are running but you're a killer and i'm your best friend think its unfair your situation u say im changing sorry i didnt know i had to stay the same can we talk about this later your voice is driving me insane" etc.

HELLO????? cannot believe. the front bottoms wrote a song specifically for alfie and steven. how did they know. the best friend/killer thing is especially insane like Hi.

[torialeysha]

Cold Feet - Part 15

Shadow of doubt.

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

Song: Paramore - Tell me how 

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

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

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

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

“I tried to stop her!” Ollie explained.

“It’s alright, Ollie. Let ‘er in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A sceptical Ada waited for him to continue.

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

“Alfie!” Ollie admonished.

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

Alfie’s eyes widened when Ada mentioned the baby.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not in so many words.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is she?” He asked suddenly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What you on about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alfie, what are you doin-“

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

“That’s none of your damned business!”

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

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

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

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

“Leave me alone, Solomon’s.”

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

“Tell you what?” You turn on him.

“Tell me the truth!” He hollers indiscreetly.

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

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

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

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

“I want to hear you say it.”

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

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

It may have been your imagination but he sounded relieved.

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

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

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

“Now listen ‘ere-“

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

“Pity?” He scoffs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” Charles mumbled “too kind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears.

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

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

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

Your settling heartbeat once again started to race.

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

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

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

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

“I’m fully capable-“

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

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

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

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

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

[boundinshallows]

Tommy/Alfie Inktober - Day 28

Summary: Day 28 - Ride

Notes: This one would have been longer, but it would have turned into a whole one-shot. Since that's not really the point of this, I held off. So, you know, maybe someday!

-------------------

Alfie imagines—well, no, scratch that, yeah, he knows—that he’s a man with an exceptional talent for perception, right. But sometimes, sometimes he may be prone to a little cognitive wandering on all manner of cosmic questions. And when that happens—the mental prodding at life’s great mysteries—he has been known to find himself in the strangest situations.

Like now, with this grubby sprog running on quick but unsteady legs straight at him, right, hands outstretched. Alfie blinks at him, his head tilting. It’s only when the boy barrels past him and directly into Cyril, manic kiddie-giggles pitching loud in the otherwise quiet corner of the park, that Alfie realizes he was never the target at all.

The boy clutches Cyril’s neck, pressing himself so tightly against Cyril as if he might like to just fuse himself to the dog. Alfie can’t say he didn’t share the same sentiments when he was about that age. Cyril, for his part, snuffles at the boy’s brown hair and gives him a quick lick, ensuring he passes muster.

“’lo, puppy,” the boy says, stroking behind the dog’s ear.

“His name’s Cyril, “Alfie offers, sitting down on the bench.

He assumes the mumbled “see-wool” is close enough. While the sprog busies himself with giving Cyril all manner of affection, Alfie scans the park for a panicked-looking parent. When no one arrives within a minute or two, Alfie arches an eyebrow. Un-fucking-believable, people these days. Losing an entire kid like that, one that probably still shits his pants for all Alfie knows.

“Oi, where’s your mummy?” Alfie asks, voice soft despite the spark of irritation he feels.

“Heaven,” the boy answers, inspecting Cyril’s tags.

“Fuckin’ hell, mate. I hope not recently.”

Alfie has visions of some dead woman in this very park, the whole sordid tale, done in by some jealous lover in front of the sprog not but a couple hours ago. And well, that’s not the off-putting bit—though Alfie, he’s never been too keen on involving children in his business—but no, the off-putting bit is that he’s either stuck with the kid permanently or has to turn him into the police. And Alfie has no fucking clue what that’s even like—being on the right side of the law for once.

The whole scenario, as it plays out in his vivid imagination, starts to make his stomach turn until he hears shouting. He turns his head to see a smartly dressed man running towards them. The closer the man gets the higher Alfie’s brow raises.

He’s fit, isn’t he? All lean muscles and sharp angles. And his cheekbones—fuck—might as well be chiseled by Bernini himself, yeah. Alfie’s sudden delight is only quashed a bit when he realizes that in all likelihood this beauty of a man is the child’s father, right, and that he’s probably woefully heterosexual. Not that that’s ever stopped Alfie from trying before, not categorically at least. What’s that thing they say about pasta—straight until its cooked and all that?

“Charlie! Christ, what were you thinking?” the man asks the boy as he kneels down and takes him by the shoulders.

“Ah, hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don’t think, right, that at that age they are the most rational of creatures.”

The man looks up at him sharply, as if seeing him for the first time. “Who are you?”

Alfie drowns a bit in his eyes, don’t he, but recovers quickly enough.

“Alfie Solomons, mate. Legal guardian and human companion of Cyril there, who your son has taken quite the fancy to.”

“Daddy,” Charlie says, wriggling out of his grip and pointing at Cyril. “Wanna ride like Toby!”

“See?” Alfie says. “Highly irrational buggers.”

“No, that’s only with Uncle John’s dog, understand?” the father explains calmly before standing. “I’m sorry he disturbed you. He’s used to climbing all over the family dogs, and he thinks he can do it everywhere.”

Alfie hums. “Never said it was a disturbance now, did I?”

“Alright then,” he says, a bit exasperated. “Then thanks for watching him for a few moments, eh?”

As the father goes to steer Charlie back towards the children’s play area, Alfie, caught up by one of his strange notions, calls out.

“Awfully bad form, innit? Not introducing yourself when I heroically saved your child an’ all. Some people, right, some people might be deeply offended.”

The man rolls his eyes. “Tommy Shelby.”

Alfie leans back against the bench, smirking. “Wonderful to meet you, Thomas. Do lose your child again sometime, yeah?”

[theshelbyslimited]

this is one of my favourite pieces from this angel. therefore you are in for another essay filled w my favourite parts and added adoration for them ✨

“It’s alright for you, yeah. You’re not the one who’s gonna be murdered by those fucking brothers of yours,” I want to say Alfie is just being his usual dramatic self (which he is) but also, rest in peace Alfie bc those Shelby brothers will more than likely murder you 🤣🤭

“Then I pray for your brothers. Hell hath no fury like my missus… especially with those hormones of yours,” I lowkey love when women in fics are pregnant and their hormones comes through full force, you truly do not want to be in their path when their hormones are wild and raging.

“Fuck me, they’re here,” you murmured, smoothing out your skirt.” “Already have, love,” Alfie smirked, patting your bottom. “That’s why we’re in this little fucking predicament,” ALIFE STOP 🤣this is so Alfie though, going from worrying about being murdered by her brothers to joking about fucking her. you always write Alfie so damn brilliantly.

“For fuck’s sake, we’re not going to the fucking club that does the American cocktails!” You said exasperatedly. “We’re not going to any clubs or pubs, or even touching a drop of alcohol. I invited you here for a reason!” THE HORMONES ARE INDEED PRESENT.

“The playful grins dropped from John and Arthur’s faces as Alfie pressed his hand gently against your tummy.” Yep, a murder is DEFINITELY about to occur.

“Now Arthur, I’m not being funny, but surely you know that when a man and a woman love each other very much- yeah, see, John knows what I’m on about. He’s got about a hundred sprogs running ‘round Small Heath,” Alfie said” PLS ALFIE WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?

“You had no fucking right!” Arthur growled” um. should someone tell Arthur that it is normal for a husband and wife to have sex or shall we keep it to ourselves?

“Arthur, I will shoot you, then bring you back to get the stains out of YN’s rug,” Alfie warned. “And I had every right, especially when my wife was fucking begging for me to f-“ALFIE FOR FUCK SAKE. WHY DOES THIS MAN WANT TO DIE SO MUCH?!?! 🤣🤣🤣

“Like it or not, but I’m going to have a baby. Alfie’s baby. It’s about time you all grow the fuck up, grown men acting like five year olds in the playground! Now drink your fucking tea and talk like grown fucking men!” oh how I feel for poor Y/N bc god knows she wants her brothers to be happy for her so badly but as typical Shelby brothers, they have to make everything chaotic and loud. Add raging pregnancy hormones on top of all that and poor madame is probably feeling way too much.

“Oh, I’m fucking furious at Alfie for defiling my little sister,” he said. “But it’ll pass. He’s made an honest woman of you, and I know for a fact he treats you properly,” I expect nothing less from the Tommy Shelby 🥺🤣

you always write Alfie x Shelby!sister dynamics so well with the family and all, I always enjoy rereading your work ❤️✨

Bun In the Oven

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Shelby!sister reader

Requested by: anon

Warnings: swearing, some threat, pregnancy

Gif creds to owner

“Alfie would you just sit down,” you sighed, watching your husband pace up and down the parlour. Admittedly, you were just as antsy, fidgeting in your seat and looking over at the clock constantly.

“Right,” Alfie said, rounding on you, fiddling with the hem of his waistcoat. “It’s alright for you, yeah. You’re not the one who’s gonna be murdered by those fucking brothers of yours,”

Smiling softly, you moved to stand in front of him, cupping his cheek, his beard tickling the palm of your hand. “It’ll be fine,” you murmured, reaching to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “And if it’s not…”

“Then I pray for your brothers. Hell hath no fury like my missus… especially with those hormones of yours,”

**

“Fuck me, they’re here,” you murmured, smoothing out your skirt.

“Already have, love,” Alfie smirked, patting your bottom. “That’s why we’re in this little fucking predicament,”

You opened the door carefully and you couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face as you saw your big brothers. “Come in,” you smiled, but as they made to go into your parlour, you stopped them. “Ah! Get those peaky hats on the coat hook. No, John, I will not have any risk of blood on my fucking rug,”

Arthur was the first to obey- you had always been his little Princess ever since you were a baby- followed by John, and then a reluctant Tommy.

Narrowing his eyes as he hung the hat up, Tommy asked “and why would there be bloodshed in the Solomons residence, eh?”

“Just go in the fucking parlour, Tom,” you said, giving him a playful shove. Rolling his eyes Tommy obeyed his baby sister’s command, and as you went into the kitchen to fix cups of tea, Alfie followed his brothers-in-law into the parlour.

Urging your hands to stop trembling, you carried the tea into the parlour, frowning as you saw all four men sat bolt upright, not making eye contact.

“You’ve not said a word to one another, have you?” You observed, arching your eyebrows. “Honestly, we’ve had tea together loads of times, especially since Alfie and I got married,”

“Why are we here, YN?” Tommy asked, reaching for his cigarettes.

“If you’re going to smoke, do it in the kitchen,” you chided. Alfie put his hand over yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “And am I not allowed to invite my brothers to tea?”

“Course you are, darlin’” Arthur added quickly. “But what Tommy means is… well it’s all a bit sudden. And a bit… off. Normally we’ll go to the pub or one of them Camden nightclubs, and always on a weekend. It’s Wednesday.”

“I didn’t want booze,” you mumbled.

“That’s a fucking first, YN. You’re still a shelby even if you sign your name Solomons,” John teased.

“and believe me, she can give every one of my men a run for his money when the rum comes out,” Alfie added, nudging you gently and smiling. You gave a weak smile, letting Alfie, Arthur and John joke about how well you could drink and how funny you were drunk, shrinking out of the conversation slightly, fidgeting with your wedding ring.

“Tell you what, YN, shall we go to that club you like? The one that does the American cocktails?” Arthur said brightly.

“Yeah, I mean, the tea’s gone cold now,” John added.

“And we could sleep off the drink in your guest room, yeah?” Arthur suggested, but Alfie pointed at him.

“You are pushing your fucking luck, mate,”

“Fine, we can go to Ada’s then,”

“But what about little Karl? Ada won’t have us around him pissed,”

You stood up sharply. “For fuck’s sake, we’re not going to the fucking club that does the American cocktails!” You said exasperatedly. “We’re not going to any clubs or pubs, or even touching a drop of alcohol. I invited you here for a reason!”

“Why can’t we go for a drink, eh?” Tommy piped up.

“Because I said so, Tommy. I’d like to spend time with you lot sober, funnily enough,”

Alfie sighed, giving your hand a little tug to get you to sit down. “What YN is trying to say, right, is that she can’t exactly go for a drink at this moment,”

“Is it one of them fads from the magazines, YN? What have me and Tommy always said, eh? Have as many drinks as you like, but not as often as you like,” Arthur said.

“That’s what you say, Arthur. Tommy’s against her smoking and drinking and fucking,” John grinned, nudging his brother and trying to egg a smile out of you, but your lips wouldn’t budge, not even for John.

“Well it’s a bit fucking late for that, considering why we’re all here,” Alfie muttered.

“And why’s that?” Tommy said sharply, his eyes darting between you and your husband.

The playful grins dropped from John and Arthur’s faces as Alfie pressed his hand gently against your tummy.

“Bad for the baby, drinking, Innit,” Alfie said simply, and you looked at your lap, the silence that filled the room now deafening.

“Bad for the- what fucking baby?” Arthur mumbled, more to himself as his face dropped into a bewildered expression.

“Now Arthur, I’m not being funny, but surely you know that when a man and a woman love each other very much- yeah, see, John knows what I’m on about. He’s got about a hundred sprogs running ‘round Small Heath,” Alfie said, his face deadly serious, contradicting the humour laced within his words.

You finally looked up from your lap, looking your stony eyed middle brother in the eye. “Is what Solomons says true, YN?” He said in a quiet voice.

“I- yes,” you said, nibbling your lip. “We’re expec- well… I’m pregnant,” you mumbled.

“You had no fucking right!” Arthur growled, springing up.

“Arthur, I will shoot you, then bring you back to get the stains out of YN’s rug,” Alfie warned. “And I had every right, especially when my wife was fucking begging for me to f-“

“Shut the fuck up, the lot of you!” You yelled, your voice cutting across the increasing unrest in the parlour. “Like it or not, but I’m going to have a baby. Alfie’s baby. It’s about time you all grow the fuck up, grown men acting like five year olds in the playground! Now drink your fucking tea and talk like grown fucking men!”

And with that, you stormed out of the room, into the kitchen. Shakily, you leaned against the counter, blinking back angry tears that still rolled down your cheeks despite your best efforts.

After a while, the creaky kitchen door sounded and just by the sound of the footsteps you knew it was Tommy. He didn’t say a word as he approached the sink, pouring out his tea.

“Thought I told you all to drink that,” you grumbled.

“YN, I love you dearly. But I won’t drink cold tea for anyone,” he turned around, and caught on to your quivering lower lip straight away. “Hey… come here,” he said softly, and you hurried to his arms, crying into his chest. He let you cry for a bit, before patting your hair. “Pregnant, eh?” He said gently. “We’re all made up for you, YN, you know that, right? Arthur’s just…”

“Arthur?” You supplied, and he nodded. “He means well I suppose,”

“That he does. We all do,”

You were silent for a moment, before looking up to him. “So you’re not mad? Not even at Alfie?” You murmured.

“Oh, I’m fucking furious at Alfie for defiling my little sister,” he said. “But it’ll pass. He’s made an honest woman of you, and I know for a fact he treats you properly,”

“The others will come round, won’t they?”

“Of course they will. You’re still our baby sister. Give it a month or so and Arthur will be getting Linda to do all sorts of knitting. And I’ll have a word with Solomons that you’re to have the top doctors and round the clock protection,”

You leant into your brothers chest for another minute or two before standing up straight. “Come on,” you murmured. “We best go in there before Alfie and Arthur kill each other. I don’t think Arthur’s wholly come round to the idea just yet,”

Tags: @liliputbahn @lilymurphy03 @imareallygrumpyme @acciosiriusblack @shelundeadxxxx @peakyswritings @lazyotakujen @rogertaylorismycar @inkyblinders @elenavampire21 @chokemeshaw

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SOME FREAKS!!!!!