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psycheswritings · 5 years ago

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Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Six

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 4022

Author's Note: Hello, people! Here we are with a brand new chapter. A few warnings before we begin (or after, because is basically information about somethings mentioned during this chapter and it could be interpreted as spoilers, so it's up to you): 1. I know that according to the audio of "The Ballad of Tommy Shelby" the boys enlisted in 1915, but as @andtherewerefireworks pointed out, this doesn't fit with the historical facts and informations given by the show (as a lot of other thing's don't, but apparently Steven doesn't give a fuck about it - don't let me get started) so I ignored this piece of information - the boys enlisted in 1914 instead and the world makes sense again; 2. I did some research to know more about military nurses and took a poetic license to ignore the age that was permited for women to enlist at the time; 3. Kugel really is a Jewish dish and I am shamelessly entertaining my headcanon that Alfie does, in fact, cook/bake. Sorry, not sorry. 4. Have I mentioned that sometimes I hate Steven? Because I do. There were somethings that took me a lot of time to figure out between episodes 04 and 05 of the third season and I am still not sure about somethings, so if you feel confused about something you're more than welcome to come talk to me and I can explain it.

Fair warning, as always, if you find any mistakes feel more than free to report back to me; warnings are expecific for each chapter; and your feedback is always appreciated (given the fact that this is a sideblog, answers always are in the name of my main one thanks to dumb Tumblr - @myplaceofheavenorhell). Also, if you haven't read my "BIG ANNOUNCEMENT" post (I really don't blame you), please, start following me on @amysteryspot.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Summary: Alfie and Sabini make amends and join forces to get rid of the Peaky Blinders. Daphne and Polly have a very pleasing evening and Tommy goes visit May to ensure that things are going according to his plan, only to be met with a question he doesn't want to answer.

Masterlist

Six

Alfie Solomons was never known for a man who has a lot of patience, no, people tend to think that he actually has none at all but that is far from the truth. God knows that he had to have a lot of fucking patience to get where he is now, Alfie is a man who is always waiting for the right moment to do the things that would benefit him the most. And that was what he was doing right now - waiting to see if the decision he has made would, in fact, bring him any good.

The doors of the bakery were opened by two of his men and Sabini came into view - the italian flag on his hands, three of his men behind him and his second in command, Matteo, with a white flag by his side. They approached each other, the Jew gave the Italian the basket of bread that was immediately passed over to Matteo, before he stepped closer to Alfie giving him the standard three kisses on the checks as a form of greeting.

“I can’t help but notice that there is a presence in absence here today. Isn’t Miss Scott joining us?” Alfie was kinda expecting that since the Italian seemed to have a soft spot for the young woman, but the question almost made him frown for entirely different reasons. Daphne had left hours before to go to Birmingham and meet with Polly Gray, she didn’t knew about the meeting or his plans but somehow that didn’t make Alfie worry less about her like he thought it would.

“Daphne is out in another appointment. Just us today, so let's talk, eh?” Sabini shared a look with Matteo before nodding to Alfie guide them through the bakery. The Jew sat on one side of the table with Ollie by his side, cane propped up in front of him, his hands resting on top of it, while Sabini and Matteo did the same at the other side, their men behind them and a menacing silence filling the room until the Italian leader spoke.

“Did you know they was going to take the Eden club?”

“I know about the Eden club, yes.”

“Did you know they were going to do it before they did it? Because that's the one who's in charge, isn't it? The one who knows before it happens.”

“I know what I know, you know. If you don't know, then you don't fucking know, do you?”

“Did you know they was going to take Wimbledon dogs? Harringay? The trotting tracks?”

“Talk, all right? I genuinely want to hear you.”

“You've lost control, Alfie.” Matteo was the one to talk, making Alfie look at him in concealed anger.

“Have I?”

“Everybody knows.” The Italian added.

“Talk to me, Alfie.” Sabini said, interrupting the argument and making Alfie’s attention go back to him again.

“Talk to you?” The Jew paused for emphasis. “All right, I'll talk to you. I'll fucking tell you how it was, right? What happened was this. All the time you were talking about dirty fucking Jews. All the fucking time - dirty fucking Jews, dirty Kikes, dirty dustbin lids…” The Italian leader shared a look with Matteo again.

“Everyone makes jokes.”

“You want to talk about not getting into places?”

“Everybody makes fucking jokes. I didn't know you had no sense of humour!”

“And I ain't going to FUCKING mention, right, the great big fuck off elephant in the room.” Sabini closes his eyes for a brief moment before talking again.

“Look, Alfie…”

“How many of my bookies worked Epsom this last May? None. None. Not one.”

“So, for a few fucking jokes and Epsom, you fucking invite a tribe of savages into the city and just fucking unlock the fucking gates!” While Sabini is yeeling and gesticulating frantically with his hands Alfie is just sitting there, not even bored by it.

“I'm sorry, what are you saying, mate?”

“I'm saying I'm sorry about the Jew thing.” To say that Sabini seemed bothered by his own words would be an understatement because he was completely put off by it, to Alfie’s deepest contentment.

“Are you saying you're sorry?” Patience, patience always paid back in kind.

“Yeah.”

“You're sorry about the Jew thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I want that in writing.” He turned to Ollie. Write that down. He said, ‘I'm sorry’.” Looking at Sabini again he continued. “And also write down that all our bookies can go back to Epsom.”

“He didn't say that.” Matteo barged in.

“Who's asking you?”

“No. Write it down. It's all right. Come on. Alfie's an old friend.”

“My friend.” The Jew gangster says while staring at Matteo and pointing at Sabini.

“Now, admit it, the Peaky Blinders is out of control.”

“Yeah, they're out of fucking control, mate. They come down the canal, they spread like the fucking clap.” Although the kind of problem that the Blinders have gotten to the Jew were ones fairly different, the Italian didn’t needed to know.

“Right. So now they're everybody's problem.”

“Yeah.”

“Alfie.”

“Mm.”

“You and me, we've been fighting since we was at school.”

“Yeah.”

“All right? Now, also, we've been friends.”

“Mm, yeah.”

“You know, it goes backwards and forwards. How much better is it when we're friends?”

“Oh, it's much better, mate, yeah.”

“You write that down.” Ollie looks at Alfie that just nods at the younger man.

“So what we're doing here, right, is we're writing down some kind of a deal thing, right?”

“Yeah, a written deal.”

“Written deal, good. Well, why don't we discuss the border between the Italians and the Jews going back to Farringdon Road.”

“Farringdon Road”

“Yeah, Farringdon Road.”

“Fuck! That's ancient history.”

“Write down Farringdon Road.”

“No, no, no, write down Camden Road.”

“Farringdon Road.”

“Camden Road.”

“Write down Farringdon.”

“Camden.”

“Farringdon.”

“Camden. Write down Camden Road.”

“Just write down ‘peace’. Just write down ‘peace’, right, between the Jews and the Italians.”

“And war against the gypsies.” Alfie just grumbles to the statement, thinking to himself about how Daphne will react when she discovers his plans. It certainly won’t be pretty and for the first time in a long while the Jew gangster starts to rethink his actions.

*******************************************************************************************

Daphne was waiting at the parlour in the Shelby family home on Watery Lane, the youngest Shelby was the one who guided her there saying that his aunt was coming in a minute and then leaving her alone since Josiah had chosen to wait for her outside, in the car. The young woman took off her coat and hang it on the coat rack on the wall just beside the front door, deciding to take a look around instead of sitting down.

There were a lot of photographs hanging on the walls and on top of the furniture, most of them were of the Shelby’s children growing up. Daphne recognized a young Ada and a little Finn in one of them, just beside the fireplace there was a photograph of each one of the Shelby siblings but what caught her attention almost immediately was the portrait of the three eldest Shelby boys in their uniforms. Her fingers automatically went to her locket, caressing the metal as a way to soothe her own thoughts.

“They were taken just before they left.” She must have been really distracted because she only noticed that her hostess arrived when she was already closing the door, taking off her own coat and approaching her. The gipsy woman noticed that Daphne was yet again playing with the necklace hanging from her neck. They shook hands before the both of them turned to look at the images again. “I’m sorry for making you wait, there were things that needed my attention.”

“Don’t bother, I’ve had only been here for minute.” Silence filled the room but unlike what Daphne expected it wasn’t a discomfortable one.

“It feels like it was a lifetime ago.” There was this hint of sadness that Daphne knew too well when people who had loved ones on the war usually had when talking about that period.

“And at the same time it seems like it was yesterday.” Polly looked at her then, surprise in her features.

“You’ve been there.” Daphne took a deep breath, not looking at the woman beside her when she spoke.

“Yeah. Whole four years of it.”

“My God, you must have been only a child when it started.” The young woman felt quite amused by the motherly concern in Polly’s voice.

“Eighteen.”

“You’re almost John’s age then. He was nineteen when he left. Arthur was twenty seven and Thomas twenty four.” When Daphne looked at her still observing the pictures there was a hint of a smile on her face. “They were so different, so full of life.”

“None of us came back the same. We all left a part of ourselves there.” As her hand rested in her chest, feeling the all too familiar form of her locket through the fabric Daphne thought that she certainly had lost a part of herself there, a part of her that she would never recover.

“You sound like Tommy.” Daphne smiled at that, shaking her head briefly while Polly observed her with a mixture of admiration and curiosity.

“It’s not the first time that I hear it.”

“Come, I will make us some tea.” They headed themselves to the kitchen were Daphne sat at the table while Polly walked around preparing things for the tea. When the pot was ready she served them both a cup and sat down.

“You’ve caused quite the impression on the boys.” Daphne quietly sipped on her tea. She didn’t know what to expect of the encounter, what she did knew was that Polly was baiting at her, getting her out of her comfort zone to see how she reacted and further analyze her especially now that Alfie wasn’t around. But one thing that Daphne have learned from experience was that people involuntary let their guard down at home and even knowing that Polly had another house to call her own now, this was the one she passed most part of the time in still, the one where she lived most part of the last years and the one she still called home.

“A good impression, I hope.” The gipsy woman looked at her, smirking slightly, the action a little warmer than the cold demeanor that she had showed on the party.

“Ah, it was good just alright! I think Arthur is still teasing John for trying to flirt with you.”

“He had it coming.” Polly laughed, really laughed and Daphne couldn’t help but smile too.

“He sure did, but I gotta say that he is not used at being rejected. None of them are, really.” The young woman choose not to answer that, just smiling and sipping at her tea again and Polly decided to change the subject. “You and Ada know each other for long?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Before Freddie fell ill.”

“You’ve met him?” Polly was surprised that the two women knew each other for that long.

“Once or twice, he was more running from the coopers than at home.” Polly scoffed at that, getting up to take the food and put it on the table. “You didn’t approved of them.” It wasn’t a question but Polly answered anyway.

“Freddie was a good man, I just wish that he knew how to prioritize his family instead of the cause.” Daphne nodded in understanding, since she befriended Ada she had had quite some debates with herself about the way the Thorne’s lived. It was hard for Daphne to understand how Ada accepted living on the run because of love, her parents were not exactly the image of true love - an arranged marriage, like the one she was supposed to have if she hadn’t gone to France - even though she believed that her mother had loved her father at some point, the other way around was definitely not true.

“I never really understood how Ada accepted living like that but I don’t have much to compare so I tried not to judge her for it.”

“No lad caught your attention after you came back?” The gipsy woman took a sip of her tea before continuing. “Or during your time in France?” Daphne had a pretty good guess that she must be talking about William since she had seen them together at the party.

“No. Not that way.” The older woman just nodded, eyes trained on the other woman’s reactions.

“Not even Solomons? He is not hard on the eyes and you two seemed quite close.” Daphne laughed at the statement - people seemed to never give up on the subject of her and Alfie being a couple.

“Alfie is family.” The way she said it, so naturally, so devoid of doubt made Polly think that their bound was deeper than she first predicted. Polly was certain that there was more to their relationship than what they let people know - Alfie Solomons wasn’t a man known for his honesty or loyalty, nevertheless, the woman in front of her had been by his side since the end of the war.

It was obvious to her too that the man who was observing her and Tommy from the mezzanine during the party felt more than just friendship towards her but it seemed that Daphne didn’t reciprocate it - which, apparently, left the way clear for Tommy and that’s where the lived the danger. Then she decided to make a bold move.

“Let me read your leaves.” Daphne was quite taken aback by the request, she blinked twice before answering the gipsy woman.

“Why not.” Polly was surprised that she accepted the request so easily - maybe more surprised by that than by the fact that she had requested to read the girl’s leaves in the first place.

“Pour some tea into the cup and swirl it.” The young woman did what she was told. “Now put the tea back into the teapot.” Polly extended her hand for Daphne to give her the cup, after taking it she gave one last glance towards the young woman before starting to analyze the cup.

“There’s happiness in your future but there is also a lot of pain.” Silence filled the room while the older woman swirled the teacup in her hands. “You will be betrayed and have your heart broken. You will also find something that you thought was lost.” Polly rested the cup into the table and looked up to meet Daphne’s hazel eyes in silence for a long time before she finally spoke again. “You seem like a good girl, Daphne, and if I didn’t thought that I wouldn’t say to you what I’m gonna say now: be careful. Love is a good thing but sometimes it can blind us and that’s when we get hurt.”

*******************************************************************************************

When Tommy arrived home at the end of the day one of the first things that he noticed was the teacup resting on the kitchen table. He picked it up, looking at the leaves inside it and directing his gaze to his aunt who was observing him, sipping her own cup of tea while leaning onto the kitchen counter.

“Lizzie’s been here for you to read her leaves again, Poll? You still leading her own…”

“It wasn’t Lizzie.” He recognized the smug look on his aunt’s face - she was leading him to something, the teacup left onto the table was a bait for him to talk to her, it was all part of her plan. He put the cup back where he found it and turned around to pour himself a drink.

“Then who was the poor soul that was believing in your predictions?”

“Daphne. She left just some minutes ago.” He stopped for a brief moment but it was enough for Polly to notice. Daphne had been here? How he didn’t know that?

“Didn’t think that she would be one for these kind of stuff.” He turned around, glass of whisky in his hand and her aunt’s gaze still on him and his curiosity got the best of him. “What did you find out?” By the smile on his aunt’s face he knew that this is what she wanted all along.

“That she is a good girl - too good for you.” Tommy huffed at the statement taking a sip of his drink - he didn’t need any tea leaves to know that. “She will have her heart broken by the man that she loves.” Polly walked to her nephew, stopping right in front of him and holding his gaze. “Will you be that man, Tommy?” He just stood there nursing his drink, long before the woman had left. He had vowed to himself to never let another woman into his heart again, not after Grace, but it was difficult to remember that when he was around Daphne. She was constantly proving him wrong, challenging him, sneaking into his family’s good graces. Would he be the one to break her heart or would it be the other way around?

*******************************************************************************************

Alfie was waiting for her when she arrived home - sitting on his usual chair in the balcony of the drawing room, humming something to himself. Daphne approached him and called his name but he didn’t seemed to notice, to lost on his thoughts.

“Everything alright?” He looked at her then, his attention caught by the hand she gently placed on his shoulder, the woman could tell that he seemed a little off just by the expression on his face.

“Yeah, yeah.” The Jew got up from his chair to stand in front of her. “How was tea with the gypsies?”

“It was just Polly. Everything went fine, she is actually very hospitable.”

“Hum. Good.” He didn’t seemed less tense after her answer. “I’ve made you some kugel for dessert, I know it is your favorite.” Daphne frowned at that.

“There is some special occasion that I’m forgetting? You haven’t cooked in ages.” He stared at her in silence for a long moment before answering.

“No, just appreciating the company, love.”

“Well, thank you, kind sir. I’m just going to take a bath and we can have dinner then.” Alfie nodded at her, letting her go upstairs while he just observed as she disappeared. He really hoped that at least for one time in his life he was doing the right thing.

*******************************************************************************************

As Tommy drove to the Carleton’s property he thought about his next steps. May had showed her interest in him and he was going to play his cards to ensure that his horse would be able to run the Epsom. She had also mentioned having contacts at the War Office and that could grant them information on Daphne. He just wasn’t expecting the extent of the Carleton’s wealthiness.

“Mr. Thomas Shelby, madam.” One of the maids announced him and Tommy entered the room without a second glance at the girl.

“Nice house.” He says as he looks around and approaches May, who is looking at him a little unsure. It was more than nice house, probably the most expensive fucking place he had put his foot on during his entire life.

“Would you like a whisky? Scotch or Irish?”

“Irish.” She turns her back to him to serve the drink and he takes the time to look out the window, taking a cigarette from his case. “Sorry for the short notice. I was passing.”

“We're not quite on the Birmingham road.”

“It was a small diversion.”

“Sixty miles, I checked.”

“That's a small diversion these days.” He says, approaching her and lightening the cigarette that is already between his lips.

“So, I'm a small diversion. Good.” She hands him the whiskey before taking a sip of hers. “Your horse is still out on the gallops, but I had Mickey prepare this report. You can read it now if you'd like, then we can go see her.” May hands him the file with the reports and he rests it on the table, starting to scan the pages as he clears his throat. “Is there enough light for you to read?”

“Yes, it's fine.”

“It's getting quite late.” She sits down on the couch, Tommy doesn’t react to her words and continues to read the report but he notices that she is nervous. “Mickey says she has the lungs of an elephant. She's nimble in the heavy going, but bounces a little on the hard ground. Sorry, I'll let you read.”

“So, he thinks she'll favor good to soft ground, eh?” Tommy closes the file while talking.

“A little juice in the grass.”

“Mm. Well, that's good for Epsom.” He pauses, looking at her and placing his empty glass on the table. “Does he think she's not good enough for Epsom?”

“She needs a lot of work.” May observes as he takes a drag from the cigarette. “The race board will need convincing.”

“I imagine you have some influence.” She doesn’t answer him directly.

“Mm. That's the suggested program for the next two months.” As Tommy goes back to looking at the report, May gets up from her seat. “Your glass is empty.”

“It's fine.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes, a bit.”

“I can prepare something.”

“Do you have engine oil?” There’s a hint of surprise in her features as she looks at him. “Before I set off for Birmingham, the car needs oil.”

“I'm sure my husband kept some in the garage. I can get someone to do it.”

“This evening or tomorrow?” They stare at each other for a moment, he waits for her next step.

“Well, we're so far from anywhere, people usually stay over.” She is clearly nervous as she takes a set at the couch again, sipping her whisky. “Especially before cars, when it was just carriages, people used to stay over all the time.”

“But I have a car.”

“Yes.”

“And you have engine oil.”

“Probably.” Her words are all but a whisper before she pauses, nervously looking at the other way. “But it would be very usual.”

“What would?” His eyebrows raising as he waits for the answer, making her admit it out loud.

“For a guest to stay. We have a whole wing called the guest wing.”

“Oh, you…” He almost smirked at the information. “You have a guest wing. Well...” Then Tommy notices that she is crying, silently, trying to hide her tears by facing the opposite wall. He walks to her, calling her name softly and resting a hand on her shoulder, trying to soothe her. Thomas never liked when woman cried, most part of the time it put him off because he didn’t exactly know how to react and, in this particularly scenario, it wasn’t something that he had predicted. “Have a smoke.”

“Thank you.” She accepts the cigarette from his hands and observes as he takes a step back to light another, taking a sit at the other end of the couch. “Ignore this. It's actually all right. I put all his photos in a drawer and locked it, as if that was going to make a difference. I'm like a fucking lighthouse keeper, out here on my own, keeping his flame burning. But, of course, when anyone sees a lighthouse they stay clear, don't they?” May observes as he seems to take a moment to think.

“Now, do you have a map? Of the house. Do you have a map? Because I'm not going to be able to find my way in the dark. You see, at midnight, I'm going to leave my wing and I'm going to come find you. And I'm going to turn the handle of your bedroom door without making a sound and none of the maids will know.”

“You don't know maids.” She scoffed at him.

“They hear a pin drop?”

“If there's a man in the house, they listen. They take turns.”

“So, let them listen.” Things were going according to his plan but Tommy couldn’t help remembering his aunt’s words that would keep echoing inside his head for the whole night.

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771

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thefightingbull · 5 years ago

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Christmas Morning

Jason sat on the couch staring at the fireplace. He was letting the flames calm him. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but he was scared and the dancing waves of orange and yellow were settling those nerves. He took a small sip of his tea from a Pokemon thermos that he bought at a gas station a while back. The purchase had been made when he had Lian with him.

She had recognized the yellow mouse with her own large, happy green eyes and he couldn’t resist. He’d bought her one of her own and of course grabbed one for Roy, too. He didn’t know why it was so important that he buy items that matched. Maybe he just wanted to feel like he was making an effort to belong. An effort to make sure they all belonged.

With a glance at his watch he smiled. It was nearly eight am. Roy would be waking up. They’d agreed to be up before Lian so that they could witness every reaction she had to walking into the living room and seeing the presents placed beneath the Christmas tree.

They kept her up late the night before to prevent a six am rising from the four year old. They’d watched three different variations of How The Grinch Stole Christmas, the 1994 version of Miracle on 34th Street, the stop motion Christmas specials of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer, and The Little Drummer Boy. It had been a fun night.

And yet, even last night, fear settled in his chest just the same.

“Hey, Babe,” Roy greeted with yawn. He was wearing some red and black flannel pajama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt. “You okay?”

He nodded quickly, more out of habit than any semblance of sincerity. “Yeah I’m great.”

Roy rolled his eyes and sat next to him on the couch. “Don’t lie, Jason,” he ordered before leaning forward and kissing him gently. “Just tell me what’s going on. We don’t want Lian to wake up and you be all moody.”

“I’ll work it out, Roy, don’t worry.”

Roy laughed softly and shook his head. “Jason, we talked about this, remember? We’re married, Babe. That means you’re ass is gonna tell me what is going to tell me what’s eating at you without trying to go it alone.”

He sighed and nodded, though he didn’t feel any better about having to come clean. “I’m afraid of messing all of this up. I’m afraid of being a bad father. I’m afraid of disappointing you and Lian. I’m just… Afraid of losing everything we’ve worked so hard to build together.”

The beautiful red head smiled and then climbed into Jason’s lap to kiss him again. “Jason, Babe, what could you possibly do that would we be so bad that you’d lose us?”

“Roy,”

“No, Jason, I’m serious. What could you do?” Roy asked again. “If you tried to hurt either of us, it’s clearly not you and something else is going on.”

“What if I lose my temper?” Jason asked softly. “What if I…”

His husband didn’t just smile at him. He laughed. Actually laughed. In his face. “You?” Roy continued as he wiped away a tear from his left eye. “You hit a child? Oh wow, Jason… Do you seriously not know yourself?”

“It’s legitimate fear. People often become the things they hate,” he frowned, wishing Roy would take his concerns a little more seriously.

“In what situation could you see yourself,” he paused and looked toward Lian’s room before finishing in a whisper. “hitting Lian? What circumstance could make you, Jason Peter Todd, Gotham’s Patron Saint of the Defenseless, hit your daughter?”

Jason blushed a little as he shrugged. “Guess when you put it like that…”

“I love and trust you, Jason,” Roy asserted. “I love and trust you so much that I didn’t just bet my life and well being on it. I bet Lian’s, too. That’s what you mean to me. That’s how much I believe in you.”

Jason wouldn’t admit that his eyes were burning or that his vision blurred at his husband’s words. Instead he pulled Roy closer and kissed him. He hoped his lips told Roy what his words meant to him, or how much stronger he felt knowing that he was trusted to be a good and decent man. With Roy at his side, he was more than capable of it.

“Daddy?” Lian called as she came into the living room, her thick black hair sticking up in odd angles. One of her pajama legs were pushed midway up her shin, the other at her ankle. Her face was still a little puffy with sleep.

“Hey, Sweetheart, Merry Christmas!” Roy got off Jason and walked over to their little girl and picked her up. “Should we get you some cinnamon rolls for breakfast or skip straight to presents?”

Jason fully expected her to request presents, but she surprised them both when she chose breakfast first. He got off the couch and joined them in the kitchen. He pulled out the skinny tube of Pillsbury cinnamon rolls. When he popped it open he got a small giggle out of Lian that felt like a cooling balm against the burns of his own fears.

While Jason got the roll on the cookie sheet, Roy was busy pre-heating the oven and making some hot chocolate for himself and Lian. She quietly spoke of her dreams and how excited she was to see them open gifts she made them in pre-school or how she couldn’t wait to see Daddy’s friends at the tower-place.

“Don’t forget, we’re also going to Wayne Manor later, too.” Roy reminded. “You’ll get to see your Uncle Dick, Tim and Damian.”

“And grandpa Bruce and Alfie!” Lian added excitedly.

Jason listened to his little family discuss extended family. It was such a surreal moment and he for once, the warmth he felt while listening to them managed to drown out the hostile fears of his past. It was only their first Christmas together as a family, and they had so many more to come, but Jason was sure that with these two by his side, he’d become the man he’d always hoped to be.

@garpie64 - Hope you enjoy, sorry I am still new to tumblr and have no idea if I did this right.

#prompt fill #first christmas #jason todd #roy harper #lian harper #Redarse #roy harper/jason todd #fluff #comfort

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selkiewife · 5 years ago

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Harlots Season 3 Episode 1 Reaction

*There are spoilers below

Ahhh the opening music. Love it ha.

Okay... who are these people? Is this Josiah Hunt’s family?

Ok get it stable girl

Lady Harlot! Yessss did they make up?? Hmmm I guess?

Hey Luce. Hey new characters.

Holy shit Theon- er Alfie- Isaac is here already and face to face with my LOVING WIFE NANCY BIRCH what.

They’ve given Alfie lines to speak with his MOUTH not just his eyes! Listen up.

“Dainty Size” ha- I mean granted, she’s small but. Did she just threaten to “flay his face off??” Was that a Theon/ Ramsay call back? I doubt it. (Get out of the GOT headspace Selkie, ffs)

I’m sensing real guilt from Charlotte that she’s a bawd and isn’t just one of the girls anymore. You’ve done nothing wrong Char!

Well that’s a weird kink Lucy (licking the bald head). These men are ridiculous.

And now, Kate Fleetwood And Alfie Allen engage in the battle of the jaw lines.

Wait why are they rhyming? Oh right that’s what people did in those days for fun/ to flirt. I know this from Shakespeare. Get in there Fanny! Charlotte is so quick, damn. I want to be them.

“Not a Rogue” Isaac just said more words in this scene than Theon said in the entirety of Season 8 (I’m not ragging don’t at me- Theon said more with his eyes than everyone else combined in Season 8, so it’s fine. I’m just delighted to hear Alfie speak. In fucking RHYME. HA!)

Oh fuck... Bedlam is so horrifying. They are trying to manipulate me into feeling sorry for Lydia and no one is shocked when I tell you it’s working

Charlotte and Isaac. Be still my bisexual heart. Okay but what about Lady Isabella? Well this is just work though. Also maybe they have an open relationship? Or are they even together at all? I NEED ANSWERS HARLOTS. I love how sex is always so clothed on this show- It is realistic of the time period because of the weather and cause clothes were so involved. It just always looks right- like a job and kind of unappealing. And they always get the squeaking of the bed and shit right you know? Oh wait, but they are having a moment.

This must be the brother. Hey Emily. How much time has passed here?

Did Charlotte just say she hasn’t slept with anyone since she became a bawd. So I guess her and Lady Fitz aren’t together then. But they are friendly?

What the fuck Nancy where is your birch rod?? Hold up, where is Will? No seriously, where is Will?

I love Cherry so much God.

Lydia is trying to remember a soliloquy. This is all so Shakespearean what with the rhyming and...

It’s that stable girl

Lady Fitz’ voice cracks me up tbh it’s so over the top and hushed-dramatic but I love it.

William’s in York y’all... but why?

And Alfie’s.... still rhyming... like? I am starting to have flashbacks of my past outdoor Shakespeare jobs right now and part of me is totally into that. What does that say about me really?

That woman really creeps me out... Oh but this must be the molly house plot line.

Back in Bedlam. The Shakespeare is continuing... you guys.

*makes a mental note that Lydia would be a great Alannys Harlaw for sad edits (help me chums)

I really love Harriet’s arc. omg THE THEME OF THE EPISODE IS SHAKESPEARE. Harriet’s brothel girls produce stripped down Shakespeare shows before the fucking commences. Truth though, that is my kind of brothel.

I want the backstory on why Nance wears that gold ring around her neck. Ha- Nance is just a big softie in truth. Okay a gripe though- WHY is Lucy not becoming a dom like Nance? They clearly set that up in the Season 1 finale but never went anywhere with it in Season 2- but they could now- since she is showing such dissatisfaction with her job- but instead she’s going to be a bawd? *Slams hands on table* Give me apprentice dom Lucy working through her trauma with Nancy storyline you cowards! It would be so great- they could use that storyline to give us more Nancy backstory too.

I know we aren’t supposed to like Isaac but something about him getting arrested is turning me on here. (But let’s be honest, I have to like Isaac cause it’s Alfie. I don’t have a choice. Like, I’ve been known to say that John Wick’s dog had it coming- just so we’re all on the same page here.)

Honestly I’m going to have to disagree with you Charlotte, I feel like the gibbet would have been better than Bedlam. I mean. Lydia could write self help books though I swear. Okay so it’s been a year- there was like a years jump- okay.

See, I like how they don’t just completely forget about the dead on this show. RIP Kitty. Aww I’d forgotten that Fanny named her daughter Kitty. I kind of shipped Fanny and Kitty. Now I’m really sad. They would have been a perfect little family.

Oh wow Lucy joined forces with Elizabeth and Fredo. I bet that will end well.

Okay Isaac that was completely unnecessary. Leave baby Kitty out of this. Why does Alfie always get roles where he’s like harassing babies and dogs good lord. He’s so freaking good at them though lol.

Lydia and Isabella are so Shakespearean it’s verging on camp... and I love it. Oh... Lydia. Oh man... she thinks she is going mad. Charles, ffs, you make everything worse.

“A genius with a needle.” Oh no- it’s a hanging offense- again this is not going to end well. Lucy honestly has a noose wish.

Emily wants to learn the art of commerce. Emily is a Slytherin and we stan.

I need more Nance backstory dammit.

This poor stable girl. I wasn’t listening well when she said her name. But God... poor thing.

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. NANCY BIRCH CAN SING. aww she’s singing Kitty to sleep. Oh no... you’re pushing it Alf. First the dog murder, then shouting cunt to a baby, and now trying to burn Nancy and Kitty during this sweet lullaby scene. Like you really want people to hate you don’t you? (In his defense I think he thought everyone was out of the house. Still, arson is not something to be trifled with in those times Isaac... christ. They didn’t even have like firefighters right? I mean, the whole city could catch on fire...) Alfie I swear it gets harder and harder to defend your characters’ actions with each role you play. But you know what, I am not going to even try with this one and instead I’m going to go with the idea that Isaac is just the kind of villain you love to hate.

Oh Fuck you Alfie. Now I have to take back my previous statement because you’ve fucking got me with that line “this trade turns us into rats” and that look of regret. Damn you.

Nancy get out of there... How dare you use Nancy and baby Kitty in this manner, show. I am beside myself.

Charlotte says “Let it burn.” No Char. That is not the attitude. Get some water. I get it though. She still wants to be free. She really should have left with that Irish what’s his name that was so lovely. But then she wouldn’t be on the show and I’d be sad.

And we wouldn’t have Lady Fitz, which, speak of the siren... I kind of wish we had more info on what the hell happened between her and Charlotte this past year instead of this subplot with her daughter- I find myself not caring at all that her daughter is eloping. I mean, I know that there is some INTRIGUE about that but... we’ll have to see if it pays off I guess?

Final thoughts: AHHHH. I love this show. A quick search in the tag has shown me that people are unhappy? I thought it was great! But I do get what people are saying about the time jump. I found that confusing too. I also don’t think people should be concerned about Isaac ruining the Lady Harlot ship. I think that Charlotte and Fitz will be more of a slow burn and I’ve also seen speculation that Charlotte will seek shelter with Lady Fitz so maybe we will find out more about what happened with them next episode. Also, I just want to enjoy Isaac’s storyline in peace without shipping drama. (Um.. you do know you are on tumblr right selkie?) I think he is interesting, the human trashcan rhyming rogue. (And for the record I do ship Lady Harlot.)

Important Questions: Where the hell is Amelia and Violet and what happened with Amelia and Hunt? Surely they will be on next episode. A quick google search in IMDB for the cast list of the next episode has told me... absolutely nothing. So we’ll just have to wait and see. I see people freaking out that they cut them from the show. I suppose it is possible but I certainly HOPE not. I think they just had a lot to get through with this first episode. They will be on next episode. I am willing it into existence.

Ahhh, I’m so excited this show is back.

#harlots hulu #harlots #harlots season 3 episode 1 #harlots spoilers #harlots hulu spoilers #harlots reaction #kate fleetwood #nancy birch #isaac pincher #alfie allen #charlotte wells #jessica brown findlay #long post #lady isabella fitzwilliam #liv tyler #cw c slur

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until-theend-oftheline · 6 years ago

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Kari’s Tom Hardy Writing Challenge

Since I am not hosting a quickie challenge this month I decided to try and do something different. This challenge is dedicated to the awesomeness that’s Tom Hardy. I picked a few of my favorite characters of his you can choose to write for - or you can do a rpf. If that sounds like something you might find fun - keep reading :D

Due Date: April 2nd (don’t worry about timezone. As long as it’s the 2nd somewhere it counts.)

Word min: 500 words

Word Max: 5k words

Style: It can be a drabble, one shot or beginning of a series. Do not put in in the middle of an ongoing series since I plan on reading them and don’t want to read 10 parts of something to understand the entry. If you create a series only part one has to be posted before the due date.

Fandom: Tom Hardy

Will you read and reblog my fic?

You betcha :D I am behind on reading for previous challenges so patience is a virtue here

When Do I Post?

Right now. Sign Ups start now and ends when there are no more prompts or when the due date rolls around

Genre: Anything you want. You have to be over 18 if you write smut and you always have to warn accordingly! Fluff, angst, AUs and crack are all welcome. I prefer none AUs - so fics that take place in the cinematic universe the character you choose is from. I don’t wanna limit you here though so if AU is what floats your boat, make it AU.

Limits on what you can write: No Mommy/daddy kinks, no non/dub con, no A/B/O, no merpeople. No underage. No incest or selfcest. No half animal anything please. No glorification on cheating(it’s okay as a plot device but use it with thought), no wife, s/o (even exes) or actor hate in rpfs! No monster or tentacle porn in Eddie Brock and/or Venom fics - if you got any questions at any time feel free to send me an ask,

Format: State in your A/N that it is for my (until-theend-oftheline) Kari’s Tom Hardy Challenge. And use the # Kari’s Tom Hardy Challenge in the first 5 tags.

Pairing and word count also have to be easy to spot in your header!

Submit: After you posted on tumblr you have to add yourself and your fic to this doc. If you don’t do this you will not be added to the masterlist I create when the challenge is over. If you got questions - just ask :D

Doc link it case tumblr is an ass: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Y_FzXxeqyJZI7bPvv4KLzJlok_jq47DZHeLyUVr_AcQ/edit?usp=sharing

How do I join?

You pick a quote (all are something either Tom or one of his characters said) and a pairing off the list. Send me the prompt number along with a backup just in case and your pairing of choice. ASKS ONLY!! REPLIES, REBLOGS AND IMS WILL BE IGNORED!

There are no limits on the pairings but I only allow 1 person per prompt so think before you sign up. If you don’t think you will be doing it then don’t take the spot from someone else. For now 1 person can sign up 2 times (one prompt per story).

All pairings must be x reader or OC or general fics:

Tom Hardy (rpf)

Reggie Kray

Alfie Solomons

James Delaney

Eddie Brock (you can use venom but no monster porn!)

Max

Forrest Bondurant

Eames

Prompts:

1 “That’s simple really. I just left him in a hole. The rest is history.” @erak-w (Alfie Solomons)

2 “What on earth are you on about?” @thatfanficstuff (Alfie Solomons)

3 “I’m singing right now on the inside. I’m dancing as well a little bit.” @marvelgirl7 (Eddie Brock)

4 “I like dogs more than people. Apart from the select few who I see as dogs.”

5 “Yes I was. Actually yes I was. Yes. Yeah. I can’t say anything about that.”

6 “I had no idea what we were doing. But I know it was awesome.”

7 “Put that in the swag pile”

8 “It’s quite hard to be Taboo when you got your hands tied. But it shouldn’t be. Paradoxically.”

9 “I’m gonna drink from a very small cup”

10 “We know it’s a drama cause I got my arse out”

11 “He’ll wake up. Granted he won’t have any teeth but he’ll be a wiser man for it” @queen-of-the-avengers (Tom Hardy)

12 “Who fights by the sword fucking dies by it”

13 “You can leave if you need to go to the little boys room or something” @seeingthestarsmakesmedream (Eddie Brock)

14 “Intelligence is a very valuable thing innit my friend? Usually it comes far too late.”

15 “There we must go we who wander this Wasteland, in search of our better selves.”

16 Hope is a mistake. If you can’t fix what’s broken you go insane”

17 “I tell myself they can’t touch me. They are long dead” @docharleythegeekqueen (Eddie Brock)

18 “It’s not the violence that sets men apart. It’s the distance he is willing to go”

19 “We are survivors. We control our fear. Without fear we are as good as dead”

20 “We lay down for nobody”

21 “Patience doesn’t get you what you want”

22 “I’m not being funny here but the thought of you mom answering that door is a bit shocking so...”

23 “You want me to deliver it? I ain't going for that door”

25 “Nonono let him in. He’s only little”

26 “You musn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger darling”

27 “You’re still working with that stick in the mud”

28 “Your condescension is as always much appreciated. Thank you.”

29 “Arrgh! Who said that?”

30 “Again? You’re gonna get me killed”

31 “No! We do not eat policemen”

32 “Don’t go around the back of the telly without you mom and dad watching you or touch any wires or look for a door”

33 “Making the effort to be good is really really important. But being yourself is more important.” @sillesworldofwriting (Eddie Brock)

34 “Leave me or take me. I’m a bag of twiglets. What’s up?!”

35 “She seems like the princess. In a nice way”

36 “Love all things unless it’s coming at you mate. In which case despatch it with the love.”

37 “I’m not really good with heights” @queen-of-the-avengers (Eddie Brock)

38 “I have a parasite”

39 “This is dead. Dead!” @becs-bunker (Eddie Brock)

40 “It’s a term of endearment” @until-theend-oftheline (Eddie Brock)

Challenge tags

@ifyougetkilled-walk-it-off @captain-rogers-beard @dolphinpink310 @grace-for-sale @docharleythegeekqueen @rebelslicious @thorne93 @hillywooddestiel @peterman-parker @queen-of-deans-booty @acreativelydifferentlove @emilyevanston @blacktithe7 @becs-bunker @roxyspearing @blacktithe7 @cassiefanfic @readitandweepfics @kayla-of-shield @fangirlextraordinaire @thatfanficstuff @danijimenezv @hopes-archer @marvelentertainment_madam08 @averyrogers83 @thelookingglassalice @slowlywithfreedom

#tom hardy #tom hardy writing challenge #kari's tom hardy challenge

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hethrewmyheartinthecut · 6 years ago

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The Complete Peaky Blinders + Characters of Color Masterlist (edit: no longer complete)

Edit: this masterlist is no longer complete, as I am no longer using this tumblr very much and won’t be around to update it

All works on this list are set in the world of Peaky Blinders and FOCUSED on at least one canon or original character of color. (This means no Michael-centric fics with only one or two scenes involving Isaiah, etc.) All works should be longer than 500 words and located on tumblr or archiveofourown.

Last updated 10/16/18.

WARNING: I have not read all the fics on this list, and fully abandon all responsibility for their quality, content warnings, etc. Read at your own risk.

🎖 indicates a personal favorite of mine + notes on why I like it

TABLE OF CONTENTS

FIC W/ A CANON CHARACTER OF COLOR - This is any fic that focuses on at least one canon character of color.

FIC W/ AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER OF COLOR - This is any Peaky fic or imagine that focuses on at least one original character of color.

READER x CANON CHARACTER OF COLOR - This is any Peaky imagine that focuses on the relationship between Reader & a canon character of color.

READER OF COLOR x CANON CHARACTER - This is any Peaky imagine that focuses on the relationship between a Reader of color & a canon character.

CONCLUSION - some parting thoughts

1. FIC W/ A CANON CHARACTER OF COLOR

This is any fic that focuses on at least one canon character of color.

🎖 ISAIAH-CENTRIC - me aka Ashling on ao3 // Isaiah Jesus and the Sucker Punch Heist // Multi-chapter heist fic focusing on Isaiah, w/ side helpings of Isaiah x WOC, other original characters of color, action, friendship, drama 🎖 notes: really did my damnedest to make this a fun, good one

ISAIAH x FINN - rxttenk1d on ao3 // Finn Has A Choking Kink // smut, written in the second person

ISAIAH x FINN - me // picnic // short modern AU romcom fic

ISAIAH x FINN - me // coffeeshop // Finn has been waiting a long time for his goddamn espresso.

ISAIAH x MICHAEL - cyrusbarrone // change // exquisite prose, incredibly short

ISAIAH x MICHAEL - cyrusbarrone // saint dymphna // exquisite prose, perfect 100-word drabbles

ISAIAH x MONA MALLORY - @danceyreagan // several fics on this masterlist //a black OC, Mona Mallory, is cute as hell and dating Isaiah Jesus

ISAIAH x OC - @justaclichewhitegirl aka justaclichewhitegirl on ao3 // Hell is Empty and the Devils Are All Here // Alexandra wanted the past to stay in the past, but when doing a business deal with the Shelby's that doesn't always happen.

ISAIAH x OC - wishfulwriter on ao3 // Don't forget where you came from // Living with the Blinders is no walk in the park, especially not if you're somewhat involved with some of them.

🎖 MR. ZHANG x TOMMY - KeithKoenar // For what are we but weak men in a mad world on ao3 // In which Mister Zhang is terribly sick for two weeks and Thomas Shelby ultimately ends up stealing a damn prostitute, because he is a foolish, weak man. 🎖 notes: intriguing, original, smutty

2. FIC W/ ORIGINAL CHARACTERS OF COLOR

This is any Peaky fic or imagine that focuses on at least one original character of color.

CHADDA “SAM” SAMRA x ISAIAH - @peakyposts // The Art of Sneaking Around // Multiple Chapters // Finn Shelby, Isaiah Jesus and Chadda “Sam” Samra had been friends since they were children, but as Chadda gets older her responsibilities become more important than hanging out with her friends. How is she supposed to juggle helping out at her mother’s hair salon, going to school, and eventually falling in love with one of her best friends? Especially when one of those things is completely forbidden by her traditional parents?

MONA MALLORY x ISAIAH - @danceyreagan // a black OC, Mona Mallory, is cute as hell and dating Isaiah Jesus. There’s over half a dozen small fics on danceyreagan’s masterlist about this couple, plus some moodboards.

RADHA CHAKRAVATI x FINN - @peakyarthurs // “It was all about helping a friend in need.” (Indian OC)

UPCOMING FIC PROMOS:

UNNAMED OC x MICHAEL - [PENDING] @alfiesolcmons plans to write a fic set in America, where the OC is a woman of color. More info forthcoming.

EVE CHEN x TOMMY - [PENDING] I plan to write a multichapter fic about Eve Chen, a fiercely guarded and independent Chinese woman who develops an enemies with benefits situation with Tommy. Moodboard here, more info forthcoming.

3. READER x CANON CHARACTER OF COLOR

This is any Peaky imagine that focuses on the relationship between Reader & a canon character of color.

Reader x Isaiah Jesus

🎖 by @birminghamblinders

🎖 notes: haven’t read these imagines but I know birminghamblinders can write

son of a preacher man // Isaiah had been in your life for what seemed like forever, but was really no time at all.

love, in phases // Isaiah, quite honestly, knew he wanted to marry you from the first time he spoke to you.

by @blindersbeach:

dad’s plan: pt 1 / pt 2

with purpose // “Isaiah and the reader are best friends spending Valentine’s day together, but become more”

by @blinder-baker

Brown Eyes // Reader reassures Isaiah

🎖 by @blinder-secrets

Perfect // Reader marries Isaiah

🎖 notes: tooth-rotting fluff

by @bonniebird

untitled // Imagine hiding that you and Isaiah are dating

by @collecting-stories

untitled // sex worker Reader falls for Isaiah

🎖 Visiting // Isaiah meets a black girl from America and is completely smitten: pt 1 / pt 2 🎖 notes: sweet stuff

morning // protective Isaiah

untitled // reader stands up for Isaiah against some racist

by @ijustwant2write

“Let me help you!” // Reader helps her friend get out of an abusive relationship & Isaiah gets caught up in the mix

by on Jordy___9 ao3

A Long Time Wait // Michael x Reader; Michael invites Isaiah to join them, and he agrees to the idea.

by @la-dame-fleur

untitled // SMUT

by @lucachangretta

give over // jealous!Isaiah

by @michaelshelbys

dramatic // in which isaiah jesus is quite frankly sick of sneaking around with the youngest shelby sister

by @nogods--nomasters

untitled // You and Isaiah having to hide your feelings

“Please don’t cry. I hate to see you cry.” // Shelby sister Reader

“Why are you so nice to me?”

by @peakyxshelby

Item // Reader is John’s daughter

Forbidden Flame // Reader is a Shelby sister: pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4

by @peaky-blinders-lit

Savior // country girl gets lost in Birmingham, meets Isaiah

by @shelbylimiited

blissful unawareness // Reader is a Shelby sister

helping hand // Reader is a barmaid at the Garrison; Isaiah helps

disapproval // Reader is kicked out of her home for dating Isaiah

by @theshelbycompanyltd

of fire, fighting, and other “f” words // You went to the Shelby wedding in search of a little excitement. You found Isaiah.

Reader x Jeremiah Jesus

surely somebody has to have written this, and yet I cannot find anything?

Reader x Colonel Ben Younger

the universe is nothing but a vast disappointment. that man was CUTE

4. READER OF COLOR x CANON CHARACTER

This is any Peaky imagine that focuses on the relationship between a Reader of color & a canon character.

Alfie Solomons

by @peaky-yamyam

Wisdom and War // “Alfie falls for a beautiful black lady who is strong, intelligent, curvy, badass, and is as nutcrackers as him”

by @mrschangrettawrites

[PENDING] untitled [promo post] // (Persian reader)

by me

🎖 A Curious Correspondence // WOC reader gets to know Alfie Solomons through writing him letters as a volunteer during the war🎖 notes: I reread this one sometimes for kicks and giggles

by somebody

I KNOW somebody has an adorable fic that I think is titled Habibi which is ROC x Alfie but I can’t for the life of me remember where I saw it???? please send help

Finn Shelby

by @twistedrunes

untitled // Isaiah’s sister is rescued by Finn.

Isaiah Jesus

Note: These are only the Isaiah Jesus imagines with a reader that is explicitly a POC; see above (pt 3) for all Isaiah Jesus imagines

🎖 by @collecting-stories

Visiting // Isaiah meets a black girl from America and is completely smitten: pt 1 / pt 2

🎖 sweet stuff

John Shelby

by @xxdearlybeloved

Among the Stars (masterlist, 10 chapters) // the reader is Jeremiah Jesus’ niece, forced to return to Small Heath from London.

Luca Changretta

by @mrschangrettawrites

Acquisitions // (Turkish reader) “Every person has their purpose, and yours has just come up.”

[PENDING] untitled [promo post] // (Indian reader x Tommy x Luca)

Tommy Shelby

by @mrschangrettawrites

Another Kind of Language // (black reader) “You couldn’t speak the same way others could, but you still knew how to communicate.”

[PENDING] untitled [promo post] // (Indian reader x Tommy x Luca)

5. IN (MESSY) CONCLUSION

Isaiah is deeply beloved by all. do you have any idea how many fucking tabs I had to open to sort through the Isaiah fic and imagines? I had to bust my ASS

WOC are desperately underappreciated, but at least we’re doing better than fucking Steven

someone: “I want to write fic but I am not a POC/not that kind of POC/unsure of how to do this”

me: “listen, just use google & your common sense, then you’ll already be 2 steps ahead of steven fucking knight”

AGAIN, if you have any additions, subtractions, recommendations, send me an ask or a message or whatever. talk to me

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders masterlist #character of color #characters of color #Isaiah Jesus #Isaiah Jesus x Reader #Jeremiah Jesus #Jeremiah Jesus x Reader #Mr Zhang #Mister Zhang #Chadda Samra #Mona Mallory #Eve Chen #Finnsiah #Isaiah x Finn #Finn x Isaiah #Alfie Solomons x Reader #Finn Shelby x Reader #John Shelby x Reader

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hollyhock13 · 6 years ago

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All I Want for Christmas is You

AN: This is for @nerdkate88‘s prompt “First Christmases / First Christmas traditions / How Christmas evolved for the Waynes” for the Batfam Christmas Stocking exchange on Tumblr and AO3. Special thanks to @ursapharoh05 for helping me get this done and presentable.

Alfred planned for this Christmas as any other. He, with his army of caretakers, bakers, decorators, and otherwise titled helpers, had once again transformed Wayne Manor into a cheerful vestibule of holiday cheer. Never mind that it had all gone to waste again this year.

He tries to banish that thought from his mind. No, he has done his job, and he has done it well. As valet to the only remaining Wayne, it is vital that he oversee the remaining details. The phone rings. He answers it as he has done so many times prior. The conversation with the planner executing this year’s charity gala goes exactly as expected, and Alfred rests the handset back in its cradle to end the call. He sighs as he mentally calculates the tasks that remain. Once, he had forgotten among the holiday to-dos to complete some of his less flashy but more important tasks. He doesn’t forget anymore.

As he adds “pay the party planner” to his list for tomorrow, the doorbell rings. Alfred reviews his list of expected personnel and finds he is quite correct in not expecting any until tomorrow at the earliest. Most don’t work on Christmas, regardless of religious affiliation, as it is a national holiday. Alfred hesitates just a moment before moving toward the door to peek out the window.

A huddled mountain of clothing and skin red from the cold greets his cautious eyes. Perhaps a homeless man or woman who has heard that the Waynes are kind to such persons down on their luck. Perhaps a criminal meaning to catch him off-guard and rob them blind. Or—he catches himself before he can dwell on that particular thought. This requires a decision, and a quick one. He makes up his mind and reaches for the lock. He is Alfred Pennyworth, of Her Majesty’s Special Forces. He can take any ruffian who might be at the door. He turns the handle and faces his unexpected guest.

A pair of familiar blue eyes blink down at him. “Alfred?”

“It can’t be.”

“It’s me.”

“You’ve grown.”

A half-sob and a laugh. “Yes. May I come in?”

Alfred steps to the side. “You may as well. It is your house, after all.”

The mountain of a human being that has revealed itself to be Bruce Wayne takes a step inside the door.

“May I take your coat, Sir?” Alfred asks his once-charge with a lump in his throat.

The smile that has been flirting with the corners of Master Bruce’s mouth flees. “I—. Yes, thank you. How—how have you been, Alfred?”

“My health has been adequate. And yours?” He doesn’t mention how he feels he has aged ten years for every moment his young charge had been gone.

“Mine has been the same.” Bruce doesn’t mention the scars that Alfred can see now litter his arms with the removal of his (inadequate) coat.

“Where have you been?” Alfred asks around the lump in his throat that has only grown.

“Everywhere,” Bruce replies. “I’ve set foot on every continent. I’ve learned languages and techniques from all over the world. I’ve eaten local foods in over a dozen different countries and not one of them can hold a candle to your cooking.”

Alfred doesn’t point out that most of their food is prepared by a professional chef. “Is that so, my boy?”

Bruce seems to crumble at the familiarity. “It’s true. I’ve learned hundreds of fighting techniques, but never to kill. I’ve got a plan, Alfred, to help the city.”

The butler gathers his boy into his arms. “Can it wait until after Christmas?”

“...Yes.” And it does.

Dick has never seen so many presents in his life. There’s gotta be a hundred, no, a THOUSAND of them! He stares at them for all of twenty seconds before he’s attempting to climb the pile.

“Master Richard, it will be much easier to open your gifts if you are not dependant on them for structural stability,” Alfred says.

Dick frowns and slides down the pile. “ My gifts? They’re not for everybody? What about you and Bruce?”

Alfred points to two much smaller piles under one of the smaller trees. “They wouldn’t fit under the tree,” he laments.

Dick is satisfied by this answer and goes back to ogling the mountain of presents instead. “How many do you think there are?” he asks in awe.

“Many. I do believe Santa got a little carried away this year.” Alfred and Bruce exchange a look that Dick doesn’t understand. “Shall we begin?”

Dick nods eagerly and the two men watch him tear into the shiny gift wrap. The pile of wrapping paper grows in proportion to the pile of unwrapped gifts.

Dick starts to wane about halfway through the enormous pile, so they take a break for hot cocoa (and coffee) with cookies and breakfast. Dick stuffs an entire handful of marshmallows into his mug. Alfred joins him in giggling at Bruce’s whipped cream mustache. The chocolate chip pancakes with a smiley face are the best thing he’s ever seen!

The rest of the presents are unwrapped quickly without much attention paid to what is inside.

Long after the pile of presents has been exhausted, Dick climbs into Bruce’s lap. “Bruce?”

“Yeah, Chum?”

“Thanks.”

“Sure, Chum.”

The sniffle is unexpected, and Dick tries to play it off.

“Chum? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just got a cold.” It’s a lie and they both know it.

“Did you not get something you wanted?” Bruce asks quickly.

“No, it’s not that.” Another sniffle escapes, then a sob. “Do you still miss yours?” Dick asks before he can stop himself.

Bruce takes a moment to think. “Yes,” he answers honestly, “every day, but especially for big moments like this. But it gets easier after a while.”

Dick turns his face into Bruce’s shoulder to muffle the next sob. “I want them back!” he cries. “I don’t want it to be easier, I want them back!”

“I know.” The day doesn’t get any easier, but they do manage to enjoy some of it. Dick goes to bed with one of his new stuffed animals tucked under his arm, and one of his old ones tucked under the other.

The best thing about Christmas is the food, Jason thinks. Cookies and turkey and ham and pie and mashed potatoes and as much gravy as he can fit on his plate make for a happy boy. Even better, though, are the abundance of fruit and vegetables. Everything from corn, peas, and green beans to oranges, apples, and pomegranates! If he tries, he thinks he can put every color in the world on his plate. He’s even pretty sure that Alfie will let him if he wants to try. He takes some of everything, and he refuses to leave the table until he’s finished his plate, though not for lack of trying on Bruce’s part.

“Jay-lad! Don’t you want to come play with some of these?”

A shake of his head. There’s collard greens too!

“My boy! Look at this helicopter!”

Oh ho ho! There’s a whole drumstick left! Score!

Bruce sighs in defeat.

Jason is starting to slow down, but he's still eating even though he’s starting to think he's going to make himself sick. And then he takes a bite of the cauliflower. He makes a face, gags, and takes another bite.

“Jay, if you don't like it you don't have to finish it.”

Jason nods and takes another painful bite.

“Jay, nothing bad is going to happen if you don't eat the cauliflower.”

“What if we get hungry later and I didn't eat it and it goes to waste?” Jason demands.

“Then we'll get some different food,” Bruce replies. “There will never be a shortage of food in this house.

“But mom says…” the boy trails off and clamps his mouth shut.

“What does your mom say?”

“She says to eat when we got food. To save the cans and stuff for when it's bad, but never let it go to waste.”

“That's a good philosophy, buddy, but the truth is that we made enough so that we could have leftovers. There's no way we can eat it all tonight.”

“Then what are we going to do with it?!” Jason demands, surveying the feast.

“We're going to wrap it up and put it in the fridge and the freezer to keep it good,” Bruce assures. “It will be almost as good as if we ate it right this second and it keeps us from getting too full.”

“How can you be sure the electricity will stay on, though?” Jason demands.

“Because we pay our bill in full and on time every month. It won't be a problem.”

“Mom said she payed it sometimes too, and then the lights went out anyway.” Jason stares at the remaining mound of food on his plate as frustrated tears leak from his eyes.

“How about we put it in the freezer? That way, if the power does go out, we can get it connected again before it thaws completely.”

Alfred nods in agreement when Jason looks at him for confirmation. Jason nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Alright, let's get some of those leftover containers. Do you know where they are?” Bruce asks Jason.

He shakes his head and Alfred steps in. “Allow me, young masters.”

Alfred disappears for a few minutes and returns with stacks of Tupperware. “Shall I inform you how to fill these properly?” He asks.

Bruce and Jason both nod. After a quick demonstration, the younger ones start enthusiastically filling containers. The mountain of containers is a mountain of packaged food in under a half hour. Bruce and Jason are very pleased with themselves as they ferry food to the chest freezer that Alfred keeps for such occasions. Jason warms up a little after that.

Her funeral was held on Christmas Eve, and her husband wasn’t there.

Tim doesn't cry at the funeral, or when they get home. He goes to bed.

Dick spends the night at the manor, though whether he's there for Tim or Bruce is anyone's guess.

Christmas morning dawns quietly at Wayne Manor, with nobody up and about, not even Alfred. Tim wakes first, as the others stayed up for patrol. He doesn't want to encounter anyone, so instead of heading for the tree and the gifts piled there he turns toward the kitchen for a glass of water and maybe some toast.

It takes him a moment to find a glass, and then another to find bread and a toaster. He's never been in this kitchen without another person before, and it seems colder, more clinical than it ever had before. Tim realizes he doesn't want to be alone. He leaves the bread toasting in the toaster and heads back up the stairs.

Tim pauses at the top. He'd been seeking company, but he realizes now that he's not sure whose company he should be seeking. Bruce is not someone he wants to disturb for any reason. Alfred works so hard all the time, he doesn't want to disturb his rest. And Dick, he hardly knows Dick for all that he's admired him from afar for so long. He stands there, paralyzed by indecision and what feels like tears building in his eyes. “Why now?” Tim mutters to himself as he presses his hands to his eyes.

“Tim?” Asks a voice from somewhere beyond the colors blooming against his eyelids.

He drops his hands instantly to see Dick Grayson bending to look him in the eyes. “You alright, kiddo?”

Tim nods woodenly.

Dick offers him a soft smile. “You know, I've always found that opening gifts is a pretty good way to distract myself from the unpleasantness in the world, at least for one morning.”

Tim takes the suggestion as what it is: a tentative offer for some comfort through material things. He nods.

Dick's smile gets a hundred times brighter, but before Tim can regret agreeing to this odd form of retail therapy, Dick has taken him by the arm and dragged him into Bruce's room without knocking.

“Psst. Bruce. It's Christmas.”

Bruce checks the alarm clock on the table with the one eye he's cracked open at the stage whisper. “I'm tired, Dick. We can start Christmas later.”

“Tim's here too.”

That gets a bigger reaction. Bruce rolls over to squint at the two of them. Tim thinks that he must look really quite pathetic because Bruce sighs and begins making motions to get up. “Fine. I'll be down in ten minutes. Don't bother Alfred if you don't have to.”

Dick chirps, “Okay!”

He drags Tim out of Bruce's room and back to the room where he had spent the night. “If you want to be wearing any clothes for the rest of the day, now is the time.”

Tim blinks at that declaration. Where might they be going? Are they planning to stay here? He chews on his lip for a moment. Maybe this is a trick question and they really spend all morning in pajamas. He decides on putting on a warm hoodie over the top of his pajamas. He turns back to Dick, who is still grinning like he's won the lottery. Although, Tim thinks, considering the house they're both in, he kind of has.

Dick quite literally pulls him out of his thoughts by taking his arm and tugging him toward the stairs. “Come on, it'll be fun! Promise.”

Bruce steps out of his room looking very tired. Tim is immediately hit by guilt that effectively knocks him out flat. Dick must notice something, because he turns to Tim with concern in his eyes.

“You okay, Timbo?”

That, of course, makes Bruce turn to survey him, and Tim is positive he can see every feeling Tim's ever hidden written right there in his face. Tim nods to try and escape this scrutiny, but they only redouble their efforts.

Bruce finally asks, “What is wrong, Tim? Did Dick pressure you into this?”

Dick squawks at the accusation but ultimately doesn't speak. Tim shakes his head.

“I'm sorry we woke you up,” he says instead, “I know you had a late night.”

Bruce frowns. “You're fine,” he says. “You can always come to me.”

“I--you're so busy, it's not--”

“I'll always have time for you, Tim. Would you like to go downstairs?”

Tim nods. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Damian is sulking. He admits it only in his head, but he's quite certain this is what the word means.

Richard is definitely sulking. He is upset that his so called family are scattered around the globe: Cain in Hong Kong, Drake in Paris the last they had heard, and Todd wreaking havoc in Gotham but refusing any and all attempts at reconciliation (ridiculous though Damian himself may find the concept) and Father… Father is dead. Damian tries not to dwell.

He goes back to his sulking instead. This is the most ridiculous holiday he has ever encountered. Who makes a holiday based around family and gifts when there are people who have neither? Damian scowls. This is ridiculous indeed.

Grayson intrudes upon Damian's bedroom to greet him. “Hi Li'l D. You ready for presents?”

Damian scowls again. “I am not. I did not realize I was expected to give you gifts in return,” he admits. “I have no such offering for you or Pennyworth.” His cheeks burn.

Grayson doesn't miss a beat. “That's alright, little D. I've gotten a lot of presents in my day. Maybe I can take you out shopping tomorrow for a present for Alfred in any case.”

Damian nods slowly. If he plans it correctly, he may also be able to pick a gift for Grayson. “That would be acceptable.”

Grayson gives him another one of his large grins. “Great! Then come on down!”

Damian follows Grayson's bounds at a much slower pace. He is quite certain that the man is performing for his sake, as he knows he had been upset to be rebuffed by his siblings. Damian scowls again. Why had no one told him about the traditions of this holiday? If he had known he would at least have had a gift to offer Grayson as poor restitution.

Damian looks up as they enter the entry hall. He knows the large tree would only fit in this open area before the stairs where the ceiling doesn't close them in (it's a three story room), but he hadn't realized the space would be required for the mountains of gifts that had somehow been acquired without his knowledge. The wrapping paper shines in the light from the tree.

Grayson nudges him with a grin. “It's pretty, right, Damian?”

Damian closes his mouth with a snap. “Tt. It is acceptable.” He regrets his words when it makes the smile on Grayson's face fade. He turns to look at the gifts again to assuage his guilt. “To whom are these addressed?” He asks instead of trying to apologize. That urge is just weakness, he reminds himself.

“Well, some are for me, and some are for Alfie, and there are some for Cass and Tim when they get home, and a couple for Jason in case he decides to show up and a few for Babs and one or two for Stephanie…” Dick smiles at Damian's impatient scowl. “But the majority are for you.”

“Of course,” Damian sniffs, “you would be lost without me.”

“Absolutely,” Grayson agrees. “You ready to get started then?”

Damian nods, and they begin.

It's been a long year, Bruce thinks.

Although, now that he thinks about it, it's been several long years. Probably more than ten long years. He's quite certain he didn't know what he was thinking when he took in one child, let alone the FIVE who are now terrorizing what was supposed to be his lazy Christmas morning.

“Damian, give that back! It's mine and you know it!”

“It was not addressed to anyone, Drake! Grayson has informed me that that means it is a family gift!”

“It only didn't have a name because it was from Cass!”

A wrestling match breaks out on the other side of the room. He's not entirely sure who is involved until Cass emerges the victor with Dick pinned to the ground. She grins and doesn't let him up until he looks properly defeated to her own inscrutable standards.

Jason is tossing popcorn at Damian while he yells at Tim, attempting, as far as Bruce can tell, to get it to land in his hair. Damian whirls on him when a kernel lands in his ear. Jason is tackled and Tim takes the opportunity to snatch the gift that Damian had been trying to claim off the floor.

Alfred approaches from the kitchen with a tray full of breakfast, which he passes off to the swarm of children. There is not a crumb left by the time it gets to Bruce. He groans. “What have I done to deserve kids like this?” He asks in a tone dangerously close to a whine.

“Oh, I don't think that is a question you want to ask, Master Bruce. The real question is, what have I done to deserve this?” The question is said lightly, almost laughing so Bruce thinks it's a joke.

A wrapped gift hits Bruce right in the belly and it isn't soft. “Hey! You next, old man!” Jason shouts across the room. The other kids stop fighting and gather around to watch.

Bruce opens the gift with the wariness of someone expecting a prank. The kids goad him on with cheers and shouts which do not ease his worry.

The paper is removed to reveal a small box with a well-known jewelry company logo stamped across it. He lifts the lid to see the ugliest watch on which he's ever laid eyes. He lifts it out of the package, not sure if this is some kind of mistake or joke. But...Jason likes that style of watch band, and Damian would have insisted on the Roman Numerals on the face. Cass must have picked the garish gemstones and Dick would have liked the hideous color combinations. He flips it over. There's Tim, in the practicality of a waterproof, atomic, and, he's certain, tech-infused watch.

Bruce's eyes water. These are his kids, how could he have been complaining? It's still a hideous watch, but it was a gift. From and of his children. Speaking of his children…

“Well?”

“Does he like it?”

“I can’t tell. Do you like it, old man?”

“It's ugly! I can't believe we've given Father an unattractive watch! Father, I shall punish them all for their disgusting choices!”

“Damian, I love it. Please don't hurt your siblings. Thank you. All of you. It's the best Christmas present I could have received.” He turns away to keep the happy tears in his eyes from leaking out. He's content for almost thirty seconds.

The silence is broken with a vengeance.

“Pay up, you cowards!” Jason crows. “I told you we could make him cry by giving him an ugly watch! You all owe me fifty bucks! Except Cass, who you also owe fifty bucks.”

The other three boys groan. “I thought you meant tears because it was so ugly!” Dick complains.

“Yeah, since when do sappy tears count?” Tim whines.

Damian breaks in with, “The tears never fell! You are claiming a false victory!”

Another fight breaks out and Bruce sighs. What did he do to deserve children like this?

50 notes · View notes

whentommymetalfie · 7 years ago

Note

Hi, I just wanted to let you know I adore your writing and everything you’ve contributed to the fandom. It always brings a smile on my face when you’ve posted something new on your tumblr and/or ao3. Anyways, I’ve reread your fics multiple times, and I just wanted to ask: do you have any recommendations from other writers? Thanks!

I wouldn’t hang out on this blue hell site if it weren’t for people like you

I don’t know if you mean specifically Alfie/Tommy writers, but that’s all I read, so… that’s all I can recommend. But I’ll assume that’s what you meant!

So. this is basically just me fangirling all over the place. (something I fully support by the way) so get ready for that. As always, if you decide to read something by these brilliant people, do send some love and let them know they are appreciated. Just an incoherent “AADsadhksgha

@twistedrunes has written two beautiful stories for this pairing, and maybe if you ask nicely, they’ll bless us with more some day! Read them here, and here! Also follow them for: generally lovely content, both peaky related and otherwise. What would this fandom even do without you? We’d all be lost. I’d be lost.

@pure-bastard-extract is working on a story that honestly has taken over my life. At any given moment of the day, I’m thinking at least in part of this story. Here’s a link to the brilliant thing. If you have not read this story, do it. If you have, do it again! And then read it again. Let it consume you. Join me in the pit. Also follow for: great stuff about this pairing in general, plus a funnier dash! Also, the odd opossum.

@darkandstormyslash writes absolutely amazing things, and has several stories on their AO3 account. Here’s a link to that! Always great set-ups, brilliant characterization and dialogue. Read to make your existence better! Also follow for: LGBTQ+ media recs, fan art, just… so many great things

@hethrewmyheartinthecut has written Alfie/Tommy stuff! How have I missed this? A little ficlet about Alfie sending Tommy an unexpected cake. Heres a link! Some snooping told me that this author has another Tommy/Alfie story coming up in the future. Also follow for: I just started following this person, but some (not at all creepy) digging through their blog tells me there’s sharp Peaky content to be found here.

Are you writing/creating content for this pairing and isn’t on this list? Immediately make yourself known so I can follow you! Also: Are you thinking about writing (stories, HCs, you name it) and need cheerleading, general support or a little push, feel free to message me and I will shower you with love. This is a small but supportive ship

I was also asked about some of my favorite fics a while back, here’s that post.

I hope this was helpful, and thank you again for dropping by xxx

#alfie/tommy #alfie x tommy #fic rec

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bookclub4m · 7 years ago

Audio

We’re going back in time this episode as we talk about our Childhood Favourites! (Or childhood favorites for the Americans.) We talk about problematic faves, Matthew drones on about X-Men comics, and we can’t figure out a book we’ve all read and enjoyed. Plus: Mysterious clunking noises and sloppy editing!

You can download the podcast directly, find it on Libsyn, or get it through iTunes, Stitcher, Google Play or your favourite podcast delivery system.

In this episode

Anna Ferri | Meghan Whyte | Matthew Murray | Jessi

Books and Other Media

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl

Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson

Garfield by Jim Davis

Cul de Sac by Richard Thompson

Alfie Gets in First by Shirley Hughes

Stellaluna by Janell Cannon

Princess Prunella and the Purple Peanut by Margaret Atwood, illustrated by Maryann Kovalski

The Happy Prince by Oscar Wilde, adapted by Jane Ray

The Twelve Dancing Princesses by Marianna Mayer, illustrated by Kinuko Y. Craft

Caps for Sale: A Tale of a Peddler, Some Monkeys and Their Monkey Business by Esphyr Slobodkina

The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats

Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey

Angelina Ballerina by Katharine Holabird, illustrated by Helen Craig

Rabbit and Skunk and Spooks by by Carla Stevens, illustrated by Robert Kraus

Halloween 2017 Google Doodle

Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss

Sideways Stories from Wayside School by Louis Sachar, illustrated by Adam McCauley

Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey

Magic Tree House by Mary Pope Osborne

Mrs. Piggle Wiggle by Betty MacDonald

Mud Puddle by Robert Munsch, illustrated by Sami Suomalainen

Thomas' Snowsuit by Robert Munsch, illustrated by Michael Martchenko

Goosebumps by R.L. Stine

The Beano

The UK Dennis the Menace

Dennis the Menace to stop bullying ‘gay’ Walter (article)

The Boxcar Children by Gertrude Chandler Warner

Young Indiana Jones

The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles (based on the TV show)

Sweet Valley High by Francine Pascal

Baby-sitters Club by Ann M. Martin

The Baby-Sitters Club Graphic Novels adaptations by Raina Telgemeier

Heidi by Johanna Spyri

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce

Wild Magic by Tamora Pierce

Trickster’s Choice by Tamora Pierce

Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis

The Sword of Shannara by Terry Brooks

Redwall by Brian Jacques

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle

The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan

Gormenghast by Mervyn Peake

Excalibur

The Dandy

The Topper

The Beezer

Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles

Age of Apocalypse

Neon Genesis Evangelion

Dragon Ball Z

Dorothée Magazine (French Wikipedia)

Sailor Moon

Ranma ½

The Adventures of Tintin by Hergé

Lucky Luke

Asterix and Obelix by René Goscinny and Albert Uderzo

Babar the Elephant by Jean de Brunhoff

The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

The Giver by Lois Lowry

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger

The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

The Book of Dust is a prequel, published in October 2017, to the His Dark Materials trilogy

The Ruins of Ambrai by Melanie Rawn

Perdido Street Station by China Miéville

Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling

Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein

James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl

The BFG by Roald Dahl

Matilda by Roald Dahl

Links, Articles, and Things

Matthew tried searching for something about locks in the UK, but ended up finding websites talking about canals

The nostalgic beauty of the Scholastic book fairs

Bandes dessinées

The Halloween episode of our podcast

Questions

What are your childhood favourites?

How problematic are they looking back?

Do you still have copies of any of them? Why or why not?

Isn’t the list of titles this month way too long?

Check out our Pinterest boards and Tumblr posts, follow us on Twitter, join our Facebook Group, or send us an email!

Join us again on Tuesday, December 19th when we’ll be discussing the “genre” of Books Turned into Movies and TV Shows!

Then come back on January 2nd, for our Super Special Best of 2017 episode!

#podcast

0 notes

boogiewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Choking On Sapphires 93

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts

Summary: Alfie is never far from paranoia. But he and Genevieve both find that it's granted when it seems like the whole of London could be out to get them.

Warnings/Tags: Crime. Canon typical everything.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

There were only a handful of men in the abandoned warehouse in London this night. A location well suited, as gloomy and shady as their business practices. The cover of smog and fog from the nearby canal both serving as cover for their 'off the book' transactions. Despite their dastardly reputations, if these few men had somehow all been taken out at one time, the city would’ve plunged into bloody chaos that would lead to more trouble than already fell upon their territories.

They were a motley crew to be sure, all with twitching hands and shifty eyes. Not an ounce of trust to be found between any of them. They’d been called to this neutral ground on the guise there was a threat looming over them all. But since when wasn't there one? This desperate claim had been made by Niko, the newest head of the Greek gang who was less than a year into leading after assassinating his father. He was being met with much criticism. The decision to bring together the gangs and criminal leaders of London tonight would be met with the same disdain.

The men stood in their big coats with deep pockets, their seconds in the shadows of the dimly lit and dusty warehouse. Niko stood self-assured in his shirt with the rolled-up sleeves to show his heavy and dark forearms, hair black and slicked away from a strong masculine face. He was feeling accomplished for the ability to get all these infamous people together, and if he’s been smarter he would have actually done something with the occasion. You had the drug runners, the triads, who expected the threat to be from another country. The Sicilians who were known for their brothels thought perhaps new law enforcement might’ve been a threat to their money-making. The English boys and their known violence with the protection rackets they ran, this being their home and all, were worried about the Americans coming in and trying to disrupt the well-established lines in the sand for territories. There were bookmakers and gambling den owners, none who wanted their flows disrupted. Sabini, perhaps the most intelligent of them all had been over the race tracks for some time now, only sharing the space by negotiation or force with the Peaky boys or the Jews. And he couldn’t help but notice neither of which were at this gathering.

Sabini, looking at his pocket watch with a hard face knows Alfie wouldn’t be one to be late, and seeing as he knew the rumors of he and Nikos falling out, his suspicions were growing by the ticks of the watch hands. His faith this would be worth his while was dwindling just as quickly.

“I suppose you are the ones who are going to show...shame not everyone could hear this.” Niko begins, standing from his perched spot on a large wooden crate. “I know you have heard of a joining of powers to be happening soon. And I believe we should all take this as a threat.”

“What are the bloody Americans doin' now?” Billy Hill, one of the English roughens groans.

“No Americans.” Niko corrects and most of the men in the room go through relief and then a feeling of ‘then what?’. “One of London’s own and the French.” He begins.

Sabini groans audibly.

“I’m serious!” Niko insists with eyes that say he’s telling the truth. “I’m sure you’ve all heard that the Jew Alfie Solomons and that French whore Genevieve Durand are getting married.”

“Fucks sake.” Is the grumble of choice that works its way around the crowd.

“We can’t have her alliances and the Jews pairing! It’ll throw off the balance we’ve worked so hard to achieve!”

“And how is Solomons marrying going to affect anyone but him?” The annoyed lead of the Asian gangs calls out.

“This Durand is no ordinary woman.” Niko compulsorily insists.

“Yeah, we know you’re sweet on her.” Sabini mutters.

“This is about her French connections. Parliament, the gypsies, and the Irish! All of them will be with Solomons and not against him now because of her.”

“Look. She’s the godmother of a Shelby baby. That hardly calls for panic. She’s the niece of a French Jew, who has NO footing here. Those are not alliances. You’re acting like a bloody woman, so dramatic.” Sabini purses his lips.

“We all know what Horne did to her.” Billy interjects. “If you think she’s a threat after a wallop like that you’re mad. Alfies the one ya gotta watch for, and you know those Jews, they get all sentimental about their wives. This could work in our favor if he’s gone soft for the bird.”

“I do not think underselling Solomons is a good move. You saw what he did to Horne.” The Asian lead reminds them.

“That shows how unstable he is!” Niko yells.

“Well he didn’t kill his own father now did he?” One of the bookmakers snarks.

“Everyone agreed to that!” Niko shouts, his anger showing at not getting his way.

“Yeah and I think everyone’s agreeing that we don’t give a fuck about the hard prick you’ve got for Solomons woman and how you want us to the dirty work to take him out of the picture.” Billy’s known brash remarks surprise no one.

“That’s not what this is about. She’ll be trouble! I'm telling you. She’s a sly one. Don’t underestimate her. She could be a loose cannon and telling Solomons what to do, and with the men she’s got behind her she could try to take over the city!”

Everyone but Niko laughs. “Her? Telling ALFIE what to do?” Sabini laughs and wipes away an imaginary tear to sell his point. “You daft boy, listen… she’s a woman yeah? She’s gonna get married and shit out a few little kykes and fall into place. Same as the rest. It’s what they DO.”

“She’s not like other women.” Niko growls.

“We know you’re sore about losin' her to a old man like Solomons, yeah?”

“Maybe she prefers the cut cocks.” Someone remarks and a chuckle passes through the group.

“More like the money.” Another adds and a general nod of agreement moves in a wave across the room.

“LISTEN!” Niko shouts in anger. “I think this marriage is a bad idea. She’s been knocked senseless, attacking people in public, and we know Solomons can be unpredictable. Look what he did to Horne!?”

“A man’s love and loyalty to a woman is fueled by an ancient fire. He was within his right to do that.”

“As poetic as that is,” Sabini rolls his eyes “I’ve known Alfie longer than any of you. And if I say there’s no reason to react then there’s not.” He states clearly with the wheels in his head turning his unspoken thoughts.

“He burned down half the city for that woman. He threw a tantrum like a child and bypassed so many of our unspoken rules in the name revenge.” Niko screeches.

“Like you now, yeah?” Sabini snarks. “You have no business with either of them now. Because YOU threw a fit? Remember?” Niko puffs up in shame. “Why do you care? Why are you wasting our time?” Sabini gestures with his hands and gives Niko a disgusted expression for bringing them there “If ya gonna call us all up, Why not talk about the upcoming elections? Or how they're clearing out the slums and breaking up all our established territories?” The reaction from the group is a unanimous groan of agreement. “Those are real fuckin’ things to worry about. If you’re so concerned about women in power why not go after the fucking labour party too?” Sabine’s experience overrides Niko and his barely thought out objections.

The group laughs and makes Niko feel small and childish. A feeling he hated as the youngest son and one he hadn’t felt since his father died. It did him and no one else any favors to light that pain within him again. For it was the one that lead him to kill the last man who caused it. But now that he had the attention of the entire family. ho knows how he would lash out next time he reached his breaking point?

For as crass and disrespectful as Sabini was, he wasn’t the dumbest criminal in London by a long shot. He’d thought about what Niko said after patronizing him in front of everyone. Even though he didn’t agree, he did have a few points of sense that he hadn’t meant to make. Alfie would be having to change up his repertoire. He had Shelby in Parliament and an uncle in law that was the head of a crime family. Albeit was in France, but clout was clout and bodies were bodies when fighting broke out. Sabini didn’t think Gen would be a problem, as he had heard of her seriousness with her newly found Judaism and expected her to be a good little wife and let her husband rule the roost. But Sabini only knew of the slurs and stereotypes for the Jewish people, not so much their beliefs. Because if he had, he’d know what sort of power, Gen, as the wife would hold in their household. Instead, he saw an opportunity to mend things with Alfie. A peace offering for the joyous occasion so it wouldn’t seem suspicious. As he had said, he knew Alfie. He knew what he was capable of and what a pain in the arse he could be. He’d like to make things easier, not harder so he knows it’s time to make a truce, to show him he wasn’t a threat. Sabini knew it was time to reach out to an old school mate. Because he most certainly didn’t want Alfie Solomons on his bad side.

———

Genevieve’s giggle could be heard from the other side of her bedroom door. The raised hand to knock hesitates.

“Do I have to do it?” The young boy winces, fearing interrupting Solomons during his time with his fiancé.

“Oh fucking-c’mon!” Claire gruffs and shoves him out of the way. “Gen? Alfie? Pardon the interruption but we have some little birds with news out here.

The groan of Alfie can be heard, rolling to his back and throwing his arm dramatically. “WOT THEY WANT?” He shouts as Gen pops out of bed to throw his pants at him and slide on a gown before slinking back into bed. “WHO is it?” He asks quickly after.

“One of yours and one of Genevieve’s.”

“Both?” She hears the women in question ask.

“Come in.” Alfie commands, now sitting up with the covers pulled up under his arms.

“Go on.” Claire shoves the two young boys into the room who feel immediately as if they were trespassing. She stands in the doorway so they cannot leave and watches them creep forward.

“Ya gonna speak or what?” Alfie asks with a jut of his chin.

“Yes sir.” The taller of the two mumbles as he steps forward.

“Come to the foot of the bed and speak up.” Genevieve directs with much more kindness in her tone, directing them with a pointed finger.

“Yes ma’am.” The boy keeps his eyes lowered, his hat being wrung in his hands, a clear ring of sweat around his collar. “Who first?”

“You dear, you’ve been employed the longest,” She explains to Alfie's nervous spy. “Seniority.” She nods.

“Yes ma’am. There was news of a meeting last night.”

After a pause, Alfie makes a rolling motion with his hand. “Anything else to go wif that to make it useful?”

“Downtown they saw some men meeting in one of the old warehouses.”

“Some men?” Genevieve tries to get more out of the boy.

“Gangsters, ma’am.”

“Mmmph. And who?”

“Only person I was told the Greeks.”

“Fuckin ell.” Alfie sighs. “That all ya got?”

“Yes sir.”

“I have more.” The smaller of the two adds sheepishly.

“Then out wif it.” Alfie demands loudly.

“The Greek was there first, then some of the English Hill lads and the bookmaker Comer. Triads, Sabini, and the other Italians.”

“Now that’s the kinda report I need yeah?” Alfie says in a fatherly tone to his informer.

“Is that all?” Genevieve pries a final time.

“No one was inside to hear what was said but no shots or shoutin' and it was over very quickly. No one we knew was there.”

Alfie hums with narrowed eyes in thought. “What of the fascists?”

“No political men, only the kind what run the streets like you, sir.”

“Good lad.” He nods in approval.

“Claire pay them their due.” Genevieve points her way. “Leave with her boys, thank you.”

“Give the missus boy more,” Alfie calls out and the young one's eyes blink with surprise. “We reward detail. Leave nothing to interpretation when ya can lads.”

“Yes sir.” In unison comes from the shabby pair.

After the door is shut behind them the minds of the two business owners are piecing together what they had.

“Of course I wasn’t invited to this but I’m assuming you weren’t as well?”

“No,” Alfie says with a slow shake of his head. “No Jews at all actually.”

“But no fascists. Curious.”

“Not about us then.”

“Not as a whole, no. But Niko…”

“Yeah that... fuckers up to somefin.”

“I’ll keep an ear out, poke around at my retailers today.”

“Good, good. I know I can lean heavily on paranoia…”

“It’s kept you alive this long.” Genevieve smirks. “Listen to your gut, always.”

“But no one you run wif was there. None of ours. Leads one to believe this might be personal, yeah?”

“I do agree. We know the man isn’t happy about us. Now we're being left out and those with known loyalty to us are as well. I don’t believe that to be paranoia so much as putting together a bigger picture. Perhaps you could ask-“

“Sabini, yeah.” He finishes her thought.

“Mmm Hmm. He’s been behaving as of late. Due for another check-in I’d say.”

“And I’d say you’re right.”

———————-

Sabini happened to have reached out to Solomons for a meeting before Alfie had the chance to initiate. Alfie knew this meant one of two things, that Sabini needed him, or he needed Sabini. Or perhaps a third option of both? Alfie was prepared for all outcomes as he prided himself in.

For anyone else the smugness on Derby’s face, set to its usual twitch of him acting as if he’d smelled shit, would’ve been an indicator of which option was on the table for discussion. But this observation was useless against someone like Sabini. He didn’t give himself away until you dug in close and arrogance was his base nature.

He waltzed in like some greyscale silent film star with shiny shoes and a coat draped over his shoulders. His appearance next to Alfie gives nothing away that they were both raised in the same streets as the learned posh facade Sabini had long practiced to appear authentic. Alfie even has the passing thought of observing Sabini’s practiced measures of sitting down to be a tad too feminine at this point but that was neither here nor there, he supposes.

Alfie’s nose twitches both from his business mate’s luxury cologne and his impatience for the small talk. He was only interested in faux comradery if he could benefit from it. Sabini was lamenting on the state of the cabinet, the changes, and the way the kids no longer remembered the war and it was leading in directions he didn’t particularly care for. Perhaps it was an attempt to be personable, but Alfie had no time for such things when it came to someone who he’d known since before his balls dropped.

Alfie perks up his demeanor, hands flat and wide on his old wooden desk, dust unsettling as he hit heavily against the top. “Now DERBY… “He clears his throat, lips pooching out ever so slightly to appear in thought, but it was clearly making a mockery of the behavior of Sabini. “We could, y’know, sit and listen to you talk out ya arse ‘bout shit no one gives a FUCK about.” he blinks rapidly and nods his head with his low brow directed at his associate. “Or we could just skip it, the gossipin’ like the birds ‘n that, and get down to business. Like men.” his tongue punctuates against his teeth to show through his deepened voice that he meant what he said. In case Derby had forgotten.

“Now for what it’s worth, your precision is something I always did like about you Alfie.”

“Compliments ain’t like you now, Derby, old friend. Should I pull me cock out for those sweet words or do you want to get to your fucking point?”

With a slight wince of his lips, Sabini takes a deep breath to crispen his delivery. “I am here as a show of good faith, right? I have some information that you need and I want to discuss how this might affect us in the future.”

“Us?” Alfie laughs and sits back in his chair with a smug grin. “Presumptuous, innit?”

“Yes. Us, Alfie.” Sabini states with the annoyance already showing through in his voice.

“Go on then.” a demanding hand motions forth from the leather chair.

“The Greeks are trying to upset the truces.”

“Ahhh.” Alfie groans. “Always the fuckin’ Greeks, yeah? If not then it’s the Italians.” he jokes.

Sabini chose to ignore the jab. “I have the information you want. But I need something from you in return.”

“How do you know I need it? How do you know, yeah? That I don’t already know?” Alfie's lip curled up almost in an almost childish taunt.

“Because you aren’t reaching out to anyone. You’d be doing damage control if you knew. Gettin’ all the little ducks in a row to keep everyone in line.”

“You are being rather bold, y’know, there mate... Don’t much care for it to be honest. Arrogance, innit? Which means, you tellin' me how you think I fuckin’ run things, which you can fuck RIGHT OFF with, mate, respectively, I mean that Derby old mate… THAT indiscretion leads me to believe, yeah? That you do genuinely think that the information you have is valuable.” he taps the desk in front of him to demand the information with not only his words. “So what is it that you think is so important that you’d come down here to mingle among us… dirty dust bin lids, I believe is what you call us.

“I need something from you in return.”

Alfie throws his hands up half way, “Let me ask you this Derby, in all seriousness now lad, Are you thick? Are you lame? NO! No, listen ‘cause that statement was something an imbecile would say to a man like me.”

Sabini sighs and rolls his eyes, “Me ‘n you go way back Alfie. We’ve been enemies, and we’ve been friends. And isn’t it much better when we’re friends?”

“Oh yeah, mate.”

“I need us to be on the same side here. We grew up together. Immigrant lads and the like. We know war, we know the streets, we have an advantage here as a pair and I want to propose we work together instead of apart for the foreseeable future.”

“Mmm.” is Alfie’s only response. Best you stay silent and let the other man do the talking.

“Can you agree to that? We can do it formally, with your contracts and that. I know how your lot loves to have documentation of everything.”

“Can ya fuckin’ blame us? What with whats’ goin’ on out there?”

“That’s why we need to work together.”

“How’s about you tell me what this information is and I will tell you if it’s worth me workin’ with a man like you? You Italians aren’t known for your inclusivity ya daft fascists.”

“Alfie.” Sabini groans. “You know I'm not that stupid and I know you aren’t either. Let’s move past this yeah? I’m English, I don’t live in bloody Italy, my parents don’t live there, I work with what’s in front of me don’t I? Not with my head in some other fuckin’ country. Give me a bit of credit here, I'm not some amateur.”

“A truce?” Alfie quickly switches the conversation direction in a show of understanding.

“Yes.” An exasperated Sabini spits out.

“What terms?” Alfie asks with a rather dainty placement of his gold spectacles and a lick of his pen.

“We share the tracks. I can give you more races to share if you agree to not come for me or my men. We won’t cross on each other territories of businesses. No fighting over pubs and theatres. We’d have each other's backs, like the good old days.”

“Good old days.” Alfie snorts as keeps writing. “I get one race a month of my own. Share the rest.”

“Fine.”

“NO crossing territories, no murderin’, no fightin’.” Alfie repeats, with a mumble as it’s the least of his worries.

“Agreed.”

“And the giving of men for circumstances of attack and revenge on other groups if the situation arises.”

“Acceptable.”

“Then sign here,” Alfie says with a satisfied expression. “You must be in a right spot, mate. Givin’ up this.”

“It’s an investment.”

“Mmm.” Alfie hums and shakes the paper to dry the ink. “Now. This information…”

“There was a meeting-”

“Remember when I said I knew things…?”

“Let me bloody talk now. We get it you KNOW things, Alfie.” he interjects with an annoyed wave of his hand. “What you might not know is that Niko tried to gather the lot of us from all of London and turn us on you.”

“Mmm.” another sound of acknowledgment that meant nothing.

“He doesn’t trust you or your bride to be. Congratulations by the way.”

“Thank you.” he nods gracefully.

“We all know he’s after her, yeah? But he wants us to believe she’ll turn you against everyone and try to take us all down one by one. Which after your reaction to Horne, almost all of us aren’t sure what the fuck to think about you.”

“Couldn’t possibly have been intentional.”

“I wanted a truce because I don’t want you coming at me how you did Horne. A new war between us will do nothing but lead to problems I don't fucking have time for anymore. Not with how the worlds changing and us getting older.”

“Yeah, I feel it in my legs mostly...” Alfie groans.

“Niko is going to come for you. I believe you need to set up a meeting of your own and address him and, well bloody almost everyone else. It might help, might not. But at least then when faced with you and not behind your back you might see what sort of man Niko has turned into after taking over.”

“Never was much of one to begin with.” Alfie rolls his eyes.

“No, which makes him behave like a child and thus not act according to the truces that are set in place.”

“Yeah yeah.” Alfie nods. “There needs to be somethin’ said. Can’t have the little wanker goin’ round runnin’ his fuckin’ mouth bout me. OR my wife. “

“All this over a fucking woman.” Sabini groans.

Alfie points a ringed and aggressive finger his way. “You can’t be talking about her either, yeah? That’ll break this little agreement faster than I could put a bullet in your fuckin’ skull, right?”

“I'm not. Nothing personal just… he’s acting like a little boy. I know marriage is important to you Jews.”

“Always the tasteful one, Derby.”

“You know what I fuckin’ mean.”

“Unfortunately I do speak prick.”

“Alfie, I’m not after you or your wife. In any capacity. How I talk is just how I talk, yeah? I don't mean nothin’ by it, it’s just how I am. How we grew up. And I know you. We know each other right? And I would rather work with the devil I know than the devil I don’t. And that’d be you. Especially after what you did to Horne.”

“Mmph.” Alfie nods. “Spose that checks out.”

“I was impressed, I’ll admit. We haven’t seen a retaliation wipe out a whole enterprise like that in decades.”

“And I’d dig him up, skull fuck him and set him on fire if I could. Salt the fuckin’ earth wherever his feet touched.” Alfie's eyes are familiar darkness to Sabini. He’d expected as much from him after seeing the ash fall from the city skyline line it was snow from the destruction Alfie orchestrated. “I don’t blame you for not wantin’ me on your bad side. I know they say we’re both crazy now.”

“But see...I know neither of you are.”

“And that’s why we’ve not killed you yet, mate. Every now and then, you use your brain. ”

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#alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfic #peaky blinders fic #alfie solomons fan fiction #peaky blinders fiction #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons au #peaky blinders au #tom hardy

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

Text

Choking On Sapphires 68

Title & Song: What Kind Of Man

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 9400+

Summary: Alfie breaks a promise to Genevieve, causing their worst fight yet. When she threatens real repercussions against him, he finds himself being the one doing the begging for the first time. Her need for control turns into a good old fashioned hate fuck. They find themselves a new way to solve their arguments and a new understanding of boundaries in their relationship.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit Sexual Content. Strong Dom/Sub roles and reversals.Bondage.Blindfold and rope Sub Alfie with a touch of Dom. Dom Gen with a touch of Sub. Fluff, Angst. Arguing/Fighting, yelling, forceful physical restraint and shoving while fighting. Emotional manipulation. They’re both unstable.But I love them and their flaws.

**Chapter song is What Kind Of Man by Florence + The Machine.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Alfie had made some questionable decisions in his day. He was aware of this. But now those decisions involved you. Some you knew about, others you didn't, and on this day one that you did not know about, and for good reason, was going to cause a fight that would bring him to his knees.

He sat in his office, eyes miles away, fingers picking through his beard as his mind raced.

"You ain't 'eard from 'em?" he asks Ollie for the third time this hour.

"No, sir, they're set to call your office phone anyway."

"It's been too long." he grumbles, eyes moving to the silent phone on his desk. "She shoulda been outta that meetin' and on her way home by now." he slumps and rests his forearms on his desk.

"Maybe there was more to discuss than Abeille? Or another meeting after she'd added on?" Ollie offers, trying to be helpful.

"You suggestin' I 'ont know how to keep tabs on me own woman?" he glares over to the tall younger man, who now had eyes wide with fear and apologies.

"I wasn't-" he begins his head shaking back and forth when the phone rings.

Alfie doesn't take his eyes off Ollie, a low brow still berating him wordlessly. "'Ello?" he answers.

"Boss... uh... you should be goin' to the missus house as soon as ya can." the stuttered and rushed words of one of the men he'd sent to tail you around town for protection make him stomach tighten.

"Why?" he demands in a flat and authoritative tone.

"She knows about us." he says, catching his breath.

"And how the fuck would she know? What'd you do? What took you so long to fuckin' call?" he commands.

"It went south quickly. Roddy was shot and I had to take him to the hospital." he hesitantly answers.

"Fuckin' shot? What about her?" his eyes go wide with worry, his free hand placed on the top of his desk, body already wanting to dart for the door.

"She's fine. We got in in time to help her out. They had her outnumbered but... she fuckin' gave it to 'em that's for sure."

"What the fuck happened?" he asks forcefully.

"From what I gathered, with her screamin' at us 'n all. The people she's meetin' with saw us tailin' her. We didn't pull up 'til after she was in like you said. But they thought she was tryin' to ambush 'em and they went off on 'er. We heard gunshots and ran in. Then she held us by gunpoint and made us tell her who we were." he says in a fast and panicked way.

"You fuckin' useless wankers." he groans, rubbing between his eyes. "I told you not to fuckin' tell her who you were!" he shouts into the phone.

"She was gonna shoot us sir! She even cut me up a bit to get me to talk!" he says in a high pitched desperate voice.

"I 'ont care." he spits out. "That's what ya fuckin' hazard pay is for ya fuckin' lot 'a bellends." his voices rises and falls, knowing he was going to be met with the same fate now. "You two are back on fuckin' cleanin' duty when you get back 'ere. You understand?"

"Yes sir." he says with a sigh.

"Right. Now I gotta go deal with what you fucked up." he sits the phone done on the receiver like it weighed a ton. He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath and rises to get his coat.

"That didn't go according to plan I take it?" Ollie asks.

"Ya got anymore daft fuckin' useless questions?!" he shouts in his face, shoving him out of the way to walk through the doorway.

Ollie shuts up and lets Alfie have his space before going back to work.

On the long drive to your place, he's left trying to figure out how to navigate this unfortunate turn of events. You would be furious. He knew that. He also knew he couldn't make you understand the reason he had men follow you in the first place. You were too precious a thing to him to lose. He wasn't going to let you get snatched up in broad daylight or attacked while you shopped at the market if he could help it. The tails had only been a way to keep you protected but he knew you wouldn't see it that way. He couldn't live without you and if he didn't do everything he could to keep you safe he'd never forgive himself.

"He's here." you hear Claire say with a heavy sigh as you're standing in the garden, fuming, thinking of all the things you wanted to scream at Alfie while you ripped him apart. You say nothing and walk briskly past her. "He's in your bedroom!" she calls out, shoulders hung low as she knows whatever is about to happy won't be pretty.

With no hesitation you move your overworked muscles towards your room, throwing your door open and slamming it shut behind you, your dressing gown shifting with your fast and certain movements. He sees your face and prepares for the onslaught coming his way.

"Genevieve I can explain." he begins, hands up in surrender as you stomp towards him like an angry bull. When you reach out and slap him open handed across his face it catches him off guard. His head stays turned, eyes wide as he processes the hit. He tried to keep his face indifferent but the pain made him want to fire back at you

"I almost DIED because of you!" you scream at him, brow low and hard, face set in a tight, furious expression as your eyes bore into him.

He turns his head, eyes shifting to you first to take you in, seeing scrapes and bruises he didn't expect. He had been told you were fine, and this was not the untouched story he'd been sold. "You should know that would never be my intention, pet." he tries to soothe you with pet names even though he knows it won't work.

"But it was your intention to lie, yes? To have me tracked like a fucking animal without telling me?" you shove him and his legs hit against the end of your bed.

"I wanted to keep ya safe, love, I-" he talks with his hands, punctuating his points.

"That's a load of shit and you know it!" you growl, leaning in closer.

"No it's not, yeah?" his voice finally rises,and your postures straightens, ready to hear what he had to say in terms of defending his stupidity. "I had them follow you to keep an eye on you."

"Because you don't trust me?" you cross your arms as your voice evens out, head tilted at him.

"Course not! I didn't want someone tryin' to snatch ya up or fuckin' trappin' ya in some fake meetin' because 'a ME." he sells the last word heavily.

"But you can lie to me? Funny how that reasoning works with you." you spit out.

"I didn't lie I just didn't tell you." he groans.

You shove him again. "You fucking horse's arse!" you shout. "So full of shit!" you ball up your fists. "Can't even take responsibility for your actions!" you look down your nose at him with digust.

"I am not ya fuckin hell cat!" he shouts back. "Come down off ya fuckin' pedestal and join the rest of us in the fuckin' real world Genny! I did it to keep you safe because there are men out to KILL YOU, RIGHT?! Because of ME! If somethin' happened to you that I coulda stopped, do you think I could live with that?!" he put his hands to his chest in defense of himself, his anger cracking to show the concern that birthed his lies.

"And I almost died TODAY because of YOU. They saw the men trailing me pull up, they asked me who they were and I didn't know BECAUSE OF YOU! They thought I was lying and I had a gun pulled to my fucking HEAD because I was left in the dark. YET AGAIN!" you scream and get in his face and he holds his ground against you.

"I ain't gonna apologize for tryna keep ya safe!" he barks.

"We've had this argument before Alfie. Don't you remember? The one where I threatened to fucking KILL you if you did it again?!" you ask with an eerie calm to your words, his chin dropping in control of his emotions.

"Of course I fuckin' remember! I-" begins with an already exhausted look on his face.

"THEN WHY DID YOU DO IT AGAIN YOU DAFT FUCKING MAN?!" you screech, shoving him. "Why must you continuously prove to me that you can't fucking listen? That you don't actually respect my abilities or my space. Because if you fucking respected me you would LEARN from your mistakes. You PROMISED me that night that you wouldn't pull this shit again and what did I tell you?" your voice is loud and has grown a crowd outside your closed door. Aggie is in tears and Claire's muscles have never been so tense.

He opens his mouth to speak and you cut him off.

"I told you not to make me regret my mercy." you snap. "And what have you done, huh?" your voice rises again.

"I'm sorry Genevieve... I-" he leans forward and thinks to reach out to touch you.

"OH NOW THERE'S AN APOLOGY!" you laugh wildly, turning from him with your arms in the air in disbelief of his actions. "I can't believe I fucking trusted you." you shake your head slowly before turning back to him. "Everyone was right about you weren't they? Don't believe a word he fucking says, they told me. And I thought you loved me and I was fucking stupid enough to fall for you and your lies."

"I do love you, Genevieve," he says with downcasted eyes and slumped shoulders. "I do love you, that's why I did it!" he states with an open mouth like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"If you loved me you would've TOLD ME!" your resolve begins to break and your lip trembles before you can turn from him.

"I did it because I can't lose you, do ya not see that?!" his voice rises, giving away his desperation.

"If you were truly worried about losing me you wouldn't have had me tailed without my knowledge. Even putting today's events aside in which YOUR actions almost got me KILLED, your actions are grounds for me to leave you." your voice cracks.

"Genevieve you don't mean-" he shakes his head slowly.

"DO I NOT?!" you scream into his face. He reaches out to touch you and you smack his arms away. "Don't you dare fucking touch me." you growl and his face winces, jaw going tight. "If I killed you it would be too obvious. So the next step down is to leave you isn't it?" you bite out. You don't believe what you're saying, not really, but you want to hurt him as much as he's hurt you.

"Don't talk like that love." he says softly, shaking his head. "I only risked doin' that because if somefing happened to you that I could've prevented I couldn't live with meself." he says, chin down and eyes lifted up to yours, voice cracking as you watch the lump in his throat grow. "I can't lose you. I didn't want you hurt. Today was an absolute fuck up on my behalf, yeah? I never meant to make you think I didn't respect you. I was tryin' to take extra precautions to keep ya safe. It did not work. I'm sorry! You have to see that I love you, Genevieve, and that's why I did it." he leans his face towards you to sell his words to you.

"And your love includes going directly against anything I've ever asked of you?" your voice is raspy, fighting back emotion, hearing the surprising softness of his own in his pain. "Why would I stay with a man who would keep me in the dark? You say you had me trailed to keep me safe but do you not see how it also leaves me to believe you don't trust me?"

"I do trust you, love. I do. That were never a part of it, yeah? It was only for extra protection."

"Then you should have asked me!" your voice high pitched.

"And your stubborn arse would've said no!" he says loudly, his face slack and eyes wide, palms up in exhaustion. "Then I would've bloody gone 'n done it anyway wunnit I?" he shakes his head. "Because as long as you're mine, I will do anyfing and everyfing in my power to keep you safe!"

"So you're telling me that you would ignore my wishes?" you say, your disgust clear on your face.

"I thought it better to ask forgiveness than permission." he admits.

"My capacity for it has its limits. You fooled me once Alfie... you don't fucking get to do it twice." you scold, leaning in towards him.

"I'M SORRY, RIGHT?!" he shouts back, arms out at his sides. "I 'ont know how else to fucking tell you I did it because I fuckin' love you and I can't fuckin' live without you so I YEAH I would go against your wishes because you aren't always right, Genevieve." he barks back.

Your mouth falls open and you glare at him. "Get out." you whisper.

"No." he says defiantly.

"Get the fuck out of my house." you hiss, fists balled and eyes trying to hide your frustration with the situation. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted him to cry and hurt. Not be this controlled man you saw in front of you. You wanted to rip him to pieces. You wanted him to learn his lesson.

"Genevieve no... please..." he says with a heaving chest, moving towards you even though you smack his hands away as they touch you.

"Get out." you begin to cry. He reaches for you, holding you tight by the arms and you whimper. "Stop it Alfie." you continue to try to push him away but in your emotional state you can't fight him off. "You don't love me. You're mad. What sort of man acts like this when he's in love?" you choke out with a face showing your hurt. "You don't love me." you bite out at him.

"I do. I'm as mad as a fuckin' hatter for you, Genny, that's why I do things like this." he says softly, trying to bring the energy down. "I can't even think straight when it comes to you, love, I think of you as mine already, you know 'is." he nods his head to drive his point home. "I know you're hurt and I'm sorry. But I would be a shell of who I am now if I lost you." he says leaning in close to your face, you see in his eyes he means it. "I'll do anyfing, Genevieve, what do you want? What do you need from me because I 'on't fuckin' know." he asks quietly, seeing your face soften but your brow stays hard in defiance.

You swallow hard, taking a deep breath. You didn't want him to be without you as much he didn't want it. You wanted him to pay though. He deserved some sort of punishment for what he'd done. You say nothing and look away from him.

"Please, Gen, I'm sorry. Let me prove it to you, yeah? I'll work to earn your forgiveness." he takes your face into his hands and when you let him he feels a weight off his shoulders. "Let me show you I only react in such a way out of love." he says softly, a kiss to your forehead that your body reacts to. "Let this make us stronger, eh? We were due for a good fight weren't we? Two people like us can't go without blowin' up from time to time can we? You're too passionate to be contained, love 'n I know you're angry but can I do anything now, in this moment, to ease it? Just don't you dare talk about leavin' me." he finishes gently, thumbs rubbing across your cheeks.

You both fall quiet, an air of desperation hangs around you. "You did it because you're afraid of losing me?" you ask of him.

"Terrified." he whispers. "Only thing I'm afraid of." he shakes his head.

You take in a deep inhale. "What would you do if you lost me?" you ask.

"Burn down the whole fuckin' city to get to whoever did it. I'd be the most miserable fuckin' man anyone ever had the unfortunate chance to meet. I'd be left to get swallowed up in my hate cause I'd lost my love, wouldn't I?" you stare into his eyes and you find nothing but honesty there now.

"Do you need me Alfie?" your voice is breathy as you shut your eyes.

"Like air." he whispers.

"And you love me?" he watches over your soft face, your chest rising and falling slower now as you speak.

"Infinitely." he answers.

"And you're mine?" your brow furrows as you ask.

"I am." You feel the warm feeling wash over you.

"Tell me you're mine. No one else's." you shake your head subtly.

He gives to your wishes without hesitation. "I am yours, my love. There is no one else in my eyes but you."

You open your eyes again and he finds them dark and dilated. You feel a power come over you, hearing a strong man like him give in. You knew what you needed from him now. "Get on your knees." you say in a clear, flat voice.

He narrows his eyes in question, side-eyeing you for a moment.

"I'm going to have you earn your forgiveness," you state slowly. "Get on your knees." you say with more a command to your tone.

He lets your face go, eyes staying locked on yours as he kneels slowly, uncertainty clear in them.

You run your hand through his hair, looking over his handsome face. "Take your coat off." you tell him gently. He follows what you ask. You rake your nails from his scalp to his neck, hands rubbing his shoulders and resting on them. "Apologize."

"I'm sorry." he says quickly.

You move back to his hair, feeling the thick softness and humming. "Do you think I'm weak Alfie?" your voice inflects upward.

"No of course not." he says earnestly.

"But yet you behave as if I am. That would make YOU the weak one wouldn't it? Only weak men try to control their women." you pout. "My Alfie isn't weak." you state harshly.

"It is not weak to admit what I need, love." he says with a deep voice, a subtle shake of his head.

You give him a subtle smile, a gentle pat to the cheek. "I'm going to teach you a lesson, Alfie. I don't think you're going to be happy about it." you purse your lips down at him. "But then again... you might." you shrug.

He takes a deep breath, starting to understand what you were doing. He wasn't sure about it but he was willing to keep his word that he'd do anything. "Do what you want. If it's to keep you I'll take it with a fuckin' smile if ya wish." he gives a confident nod of his chin up towards you.

"That's a good boy." you pat his cheek and run your thumb over his lips. "Not going to get you out of being punished though." you give a sly smile and turn from him to walk to a trunk that sat against a wall next to your armoire. You open the lid and stand and pick your nails as you hum in thought. "What to do... what to do..." you say in a melodic tone.

He watches you with curious eyes, trying to keep his face indifferent.

"Seeing as it's your first time..." you speak to yourself, reaching down to take a soft, woven rope from the trunk and a ribbon of satin. "Hurting you physically isn't what this is about." you say, walking over to him with a swing to your hips, a look of superiority on your face. "Isn't even about sex. Not really." you say with a nod, running your fingers through his hair and turning them into a fist, giving it a firm tug. "Everything in the world is about sex, except sex itself. Sex is about power." you tell him with a cold appearance, pulling his head back. "And you are a powerful man. But you're going to yield to me." you state flatly, leaning down closer to his face, hand yanking on his hair.

"I told ya, I'm yours." he answers. You could never deny that he wasn't a smart man. He could've been the smartest you knew and never short on cleverness.

"You are mine. Now get on this bed." you give a sharp nod, tugging him up by his shirt collar and sitting him down. "You're going to do as I say. You're going to listen." you bite your words at him, smacking his nose like a scolded pup. "You're going to prove to me you can. You're going to give me your power and I'm going to use you and punish you however I please. Do we understand?" you stand up straight as you speak and unbutton his shirt.

"Yes, love." he sighs out.

"No." you give a stern smack to his cheek. "No love, no darling, no pet names. You call me Miss until I tell you otherwise. You haven't earned calling me yours again. I'm not yours again yet." you speak low and concise at him, his eyes blinking rapidly to try to subdue his instincts to talk back. When he goes without speaking for too long you twist on of his nipples and he flinches. "Answer me." you loudly demand.

"Yes Miss." he grunts out, wanting to rub the spot of sudden impact but you're roughly yanking his sleeves off his arms.

"Kick off your shoes." you order, taking his shirt and picking up his jacket, laying it over the back of a chair. "Much better." you exhale out, nails raking down his bare arms. You untie the sash around your waist, letting your dressing gown fall open just slightly. You see his nostrils twitch, his eyes move down your body and you grab him firmly by the chin. "You don't get to watch me do these things to you. This body is mine, not the other way around. You don't get to gaze at this feminine form while you're being punished." you shake his chin and put the satin ribbon across his eyes. "Have you ever been blindfolded Alfie?"

"No Miss." he answers with clear disapproval to his voice.

"That's surprising," you say out loud in reflection. "Has a woman ever tied you up before?" you ask with a sweeter tone.

"No. Never wanted to be put in a vulnerable position." he forces out in a stubborn mumble.

You let out a dark chuckle at his expense. "I supposed you should've behaved and kept it that way then, hmmm? Because you're going to be vulnerable for me." you coo, bending over the bed and encircling his elbows and wrists pulled together with the soft rope. You preferred the harder, rougher rope yourself but you didn't want to leave visible marks on him after the fact. "Have you ever heard of Kinbaku?" you ask while forming the intricate patterns across his forearms.

"No." he says softly.

You bend his pinky back as he's already forgetting the rules.

"Fuckin', MISS, No. Miss." he rushes out.

"He's learning." you say in a patronizing tone. "It's the art of tight binding with rope. It's about the beauty in the art of restraint. I learned from a very knowledgeable woman during my time in Berlin." you explain, knotting his arms together, forcing his chest out and his back straight as he grunted. "This isn't some sailors knot you boys brought home. You won't be getting out this." he hears the threat in your voice. "Go ahead." you say with a humourous lilt and you stand in front of him, hands on your hips, opening your dressing gown to expose your naked body underneath. "Try." you challenge him.

He grunts, jaw tight and shoulders shifting almost falling onto his side in his attempt.

"See? Not going anywhere," you say condescend, bopping his nose. "And what good news for me." you let out a slow, deep laugh, spreading his knees and standing between them, letting your hands roam over his shoulders and down his arms slowly. "Truly a shame you have to have such an appetizing body when you have such a habit of poor behavior." you sigh and pout, fingers dragging down his stomach to the tops of his trousers. "All I want to do is love and fuck you Alfie I don't know why you can't just behave and let me do that without having to do things like this." your voice is whiny and lazy, reaching and twisting his nipples as he flinches and grunts. "Making me deny both of us. Making me take time out of my busy schedule to fucking train you like some dog." you knock his chin with the back of your hand. "And such a stubborn mutt." you scold, a smack to both his cheeks. You change your tone and touch to sweeter, lighter to begin overwhelming him. "But he is so handsome. Except for all that sneaking he's a good pup isn't he?" you run your fingers through his beard.

"I fuckin' try, Miss." he answers gruffly, his frustration evident.

"Try harder." you command, slapping his chest firmly, making him press his lips together. "If you want to keep me you'll try harder." You put your lips to his and speak. "I will not tolerate this machismo shit that you're trying to pull on me. I won't. I don't care if I fucking love you, I'll live without you out of spite. I've built my whole life around spite and don't think you're immune just because I love your stubborn arse." He feels the more heartfelt expression in your voice as you speak closely and harshly to him.

"So you would still love me?" he says softly, you back away, his lips parted just slightly as he waits for an answer.

"I will love you until the day I die, Alfie. But don't think that means you can do what you want and get away with it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss." he whispers.

"You will ask me before doing these things. Even if it means a fight. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Because I would rather you tell me and then do it, over not telling me. It's the transparency I need, Alfie. I won't have secrets that could hurt us kept between us." you lift up his chin to your face. "It's a matter of my safety and yours now. This isn't some young love where the only effects of our lies are hurt feelings. It's life or death now. Like it was today. And we might not be so lucky next time. I know you understand that."

"I do, Miss."

"So can you promise to tell me things, even if they hurt me? Even if I want to hate you? Because if you tell me the truth I will be able to forgive you eventually. Unlike now."

"I will. I promise, yeah? I hate seein' ya upset."

"I do not need coddled Alfie. I've said this before. I am not a child, I am not naive. You tell me the bad. Not only the good. I can take it. I might scream and lash out but wouldn't you prefer that to me leaving you?"

"I'd prefer anyfing to that." he sighs out and you're touched by the soft tone.

"Then let your actions show it. I don't give second chances Alfie, and here I am. My daft, softened heart giving way for you to learn a lesson without forcefully breaking yours."

"Thank you, love -Miss." he winces and waits to be hit but it doesn't come. "I promise to keep in mind you are not a fragile little thing to keep guarded in a box."

"Is that how you truly want me, Alfie? To be a kept little porcelain figurine on your shelf with no personality, no ambitions but to sit and be beautiful?"

"No, I love that you're fuckin' mad." he shakes his head and you see a charming grin come across his face. You slap his face and it stays. He can't see the entertained look on your face.

"Don't push it you hound." he hears the amusement in your voice. "You don't want someone so easily broken do you?" you ask softly, sliding your leg up on the bed next to his.

"I do not." his voice dips low, keeping a grateful softness.

"And neither do I." you hiss, straddling his lap. "But I'm going to try to break you today." you graze your nose against his. "I'm going to tease and hurt you and you're going to do what I say because you want me happy don't you? Wasn't that what all this lying was about? To keep me happy?"

"It was, truly, love. When you're upset I feel like I've failed you somehow."

"Oh you sweet pup." you scratch into his beard. "You're going to make me very happy right now then aren't you? Be a good boy for me and perhaps I'll be good to you. IF you earn it."

"I am, Miss. I want ya to be good to me. I wanna be good to ya." he says earnestly.

"In time." you say happily, glad he can't see the smile on your face. You let your dressing gown fall behind you to the floor and press your bare skin against his chest. His chest rises and falls dramatically as he comprehends what's going on. "Now I want to tease you." you say, lifting your breasts and rubbing your hard nipples against his chest. "You can't touch me with your hands like this. All tied up like a present for me. I know you must hate that." you laugh softly. "Having to imagine what I look like, completely naked and rubbing against you like this." You lift your self and press your breasts to either side of his face and he groans, moving his face to nuzzle against them. You sit down hard on his lap and he groans in pain. "I didn't say you could do that." your voice turns darker again and he swallows loudly. "This is for me, not you." you inform curtly. You rise again, batting him about the face with your breasts, knocking his head from side to side. "You love these big tits of mine don't you Alfie?" you purr.

"I fuckin' do, Miss." he groans, licking his lips.

"What do you like about them?" you keep pressing them to his face, your arms around his head from time to time, smothering him in them and going back to teasing your hard nipples to his bare skin.

"What's not to fuckin' like? Can I be crude, Miss?" he asks.

"You are learning and I am impressed." you chirp. "You may." you give him a good scratch to the chin for his behavior.

"They're fuckin' huge, love. I just wanna fuckin' smother to death in 'em. And the weight of 'em against me is just... I fuckin' think about 'em all the time. Want my mouth on 'em to show you how much I want you. The way they bounce when I fuck you and you ride me... fuck. When you're cold at night and I pull you against me and feel those perfect little brown nipples hard against me. And fuck me, the noises you make when I suck on your tits, love, it makes me so fuckin' hard I can't think 'bout anyfing else." he lets out a long exhale.

"Keep talking like that and you'll be rewarded." you give him a single chaste kiss to the cheek. "You want them in your mouth?"

"Fuck, yes, love." his shoulders slump.

"Open your mouth." and he does as you command. "But DON'T you dare move your lips." you say, placing one of the hard peaks, tracing it around his lips and he pants, shoulder shifting as he wants to touch you. "I bet you wish those big paws of yours were free to pull me into your mouth don't you?" you purr.

"Yes, Miss" he groans.

"Too bad." you state flatly. "Stick out your tongue." you rub your nipple against the warm, wet surface and hum. "I do love it when you suck on these big tits Alfie. It makes me so wet." you whisper, a taunting smile on your face as you watch him try to not struggle against his bindings. You lower your hips down, taking them away from his mouth. "And it makes you hard doesn't it?" you state as you move your hips against his, feeling him growing beneath you.

"It does." he groans, his mouth and tongue stuck out searching for your skin.

"You want me to let that fat cock of yours out to play?" you whisper into his ear, dragging your tongue up the shell of it.

He groans with a clenched jaw. "Yes, Miss."

"So he does like this." you say cheerfully, fingers teasing under his waistband. "But have you earned getting to feel me against you?" you ask rhetorically as you rub him over his trousers.

"Let me." he rasps out.

"You're not in the position to be asking things of me." you scold, giving his hardening cock a slap and he hisses. "Just for that I'm going to tease you more." you announce proudly, making quick work of his trousers and pants and leaving him bare on the bed. "Now look at you. Not even your pants to give you any friction." you deign. "So let's make it worse." you smile, taking the blindfold off of him. "Hello there my blue-eyed dog." you give him a scratch to his chin.

"'Ello..." he slurs out, eyes looking over your naked body cause his cock to stir.

""ello?" you ask, a slap to the underside of his cock and he turns his head and winces.

"Miss. Bloody miss, 'Ello Miss." he grunts out and diverts his eyes.

"Better." you say harshly, taking your breasts again and hitting him in the face with them. His groans move from pained to pleasurable quickly as you make his pillowy lips pucker with the squeezing of his face. "Not perfect but what should I expect from a man?" you patronize and his face shows he doesn't care in the least. You pull away from him, leaning down as if you were going to put your mouth on his cock, but hesitating, letting your hard nipples graze up his thighs, dragging them up on either side of his cock, a brief wobble of your chest to tease before hitching a leg up to drag them up his chest. "Open your mouth again. Don't make me tell you not to move again." you hiss, once again tracing his lips and tongue with the stiff peaks, the contact and the power from his helplessness making you wet. "Such a gorgeous mouth, truly." you coo. "Now suck." you command. He doesn't pause for consideration, eyes closing and mouth enveloping your breast as much as he could, grunting into it, harsh rhythmic sucking, watching the muscles in his neck tense from his enthusiasm. "What filthy whispers I've heard from them. Unfortunately also what lies." you tsk and pull them away, rising off of his body quickly, leaving him with fluttering lids and an open mouth.

You turn around, looking around the room for inspiration for a moment, you hear a familiar grunt as he wants to bury his face into your peachy arse. "I hear you back there." you smirk. "You like my arse too?" you ask with a cheerful tone, placing your hands on his knees, running yourself up against his balls first then feeling him rest between the valley of your arse.

"Yes, miss." he groans, you feel his thighs shifting beneath you.

"Is there any part of me you don't like?" you laugh, bouncing yourself against him, causing him to pat heavy against you as you did.

"No, miss." he whispers, nose twitching from the contact.

"Right answer." you say, bouncing your cheeks at him with your hands underneath them, before bending over slowly, no longer touching him, letting him get a view of you. He could see the glimpse of soft hair and pink lips between your thighs as you bent, and his cock twitched at the sight, balls tightening with need. "And do you love this cunt?" you ask with a sweet tone, reaching behind you to spread yourself apart in front of him.

"Unggg Yes, love - Miss." he corrects.

"Tell me." you say, running your hands over the swell of your ass and down your thighs.

"I fuckin' love that perfect little cunt of yours, Miss."

"Good boy." you say in reward, moving to a chair that sat not far from the edge of the bed, pulling it closer by bending over and backing towards him, giving him a good view. Out of reach, but close enough to see you, you spin and sit on the edge of the chair. You caress your chest and down your thighs, spreading them, kneading the soft flesh up to your center. Hitching a leg over the arm of the chair, you begin to tease around your lips. "Have you ever seen such a pretty little puss Alfie?" you ask with a smile, fingers now pressing against your slit.

"No Miss." he groans, eyes fixated.

"Such a soft and pink little thing isn't she?" you purr affectionately, looking down at yourself, fingers sliding between your lips, holding them open for him, causing him to groan. "And expert at taking your cock."

"Yes she is Miss" he groans, licking his lips.

"You are so lucky Alfie. To get the privilege to fuck such a well cared for and maintained cunt you know? I keep her tight and soft and wet for you don't I?"

"Yes Miss you do." he whines.

You begin to rub your clit, humming in pleasure, hips starting to shift back and forth. "You want it don't you?"

"Fuck yes I do miss." he pants.

You throw your other leg up, leaning back on full display. "I can tell from that cock of yours." you grin, biting your lip and continuing to rub, closing your eyes and giving him a show, moaning and shifting, rubbing fast then slow and back again. "I'm so wet, Alfie." you moan, opening your eyes to find him standing at attention for you, your give a few firm slaps to your center and he lets out a deep grunt. "You're licking your lips, do you want a taste?" you tease.

"Yes Miss." he nods, eyes not leaving you.

You slide your fingers inside you, a showy moan and throwback of your head. You stand quickly, strutting over to him and sliding your fingers into his mouth. "Taste it." you whisper, letting him suck your fingers, his tongue lapping away at them inside his mouth and let out a content hum of appreciation. "Good boy," you say, putting the wet fingers back between your legs and moaning. "Such a good boy." you rasp, throwing your leg over him again, a strong grab and slap to his hip before you take hold of his cock and slide it against your wet center.

His mouth drops open as he swears, lip twitching at the contact before his eyes swing back up to your face.

"I feel you throbbing for it." you taunt, sliding yourself against him.

"Yes Miss." he wheezes, lips hanging open and wet, eyes looking up at you.

"Look at you, panting for it with those puppy dog eyes." you hold his cheek with your free hand, grazing your nose against him. "Would you like a kiss, pup?" you ask softly.

"Yes, Miss." he nods.

"Such a soft thing." you purr before teasing him again, licks and grazes of your lips against his before giving in after taking in his strung-out face. When you let him kiss you, he moans. A moan into a kiss was something new and you were thrilled by the arrival of the deep noise, it meant your teasing was working. You give into for a bit, kissing back with tongue and teeth as he pushed against you, starving for more contact. Not having his arms free was extremely frustrating and that annoyance was only making his blood pump faster and make him want you more.

You rise off him to stand between his legs, keeping your kiss intact before hiving him a hard, tight tug and he grunts, breaking the kiss. "Too rough?" you ask with a tilt of your head, another hard tug from the base, jerking his hips forward.

"Mmmph." he answers at first, hesitant to tell you now, fearing he might receive worse. "Yes Miss." he answers sheepishly.

"Oh he doesn't like a rough wank?" you taunt, giving him a few more and watching him wince. "Shame, that." you sigh. "Guess I'll have to be nice to this cock won't I?" you pout. "I'll need it throbbing hard to fuck me right, won't I?" you keep rubbing against him, drawing out a moan. "And I do plan on having you fuck me right, Alfie." you sigh out against his lips. The sound of his name makes him grunt, forgetting the rough grip on him already. "If you can be a good boy."

"I can Miss."

"You want to be a good boy?" you ask, letting him go, a playful pinch to his inner thighs before you turn and bend over again, reaching back to stroke him.

"Yes Miss."

"You want to fuck me?" you tease, rubbing his head against your wet slit.

He groans and shifts "Yes, miss."

"Then come get it." you say, letting him go, hands on your ankles in front of him. "Fuck me if you want to so badly." you say in a harsh, bossy tone.

You feel his legs try to move him in a way to get to you, scooting to the end of the bed but he can't get the leverage without his arms in use.

"Fuck me, Alfie. C'mon." you bounce your ass at him and laugh. "Oh can the poor pup not manage?" you pout, looking back at his red and drawn face. "Poor baby." you laugh, bouncing your ass at him with your hands. You turn back, moving quickly to straddle him, connecting in a kiss he didn't see coming. "You don't get to fuck me unless I let you. This cunt isn't yours, it's mine." you bite his lip. "But this cock." you nod and reach between your legs to wrap around him again. "This cock is mine. It doesn't go anywhere or do anything unless I give it permission. You understand?"

"Yes miss."

"Tell me it's mine." you growl

"It's yours miss." he sighs.

"And you. All of you. Is mine." you growl, rubbing yourself against him, your fingers light against the head of his cock. "Tell me." you demand, grabbing him roughly again.

"I'm yours. it's all yours Miss"

"You are mine. All mine." you coo, your switching of mean to sweet making his brow furrow as he tried to anticipate what you would do next but he didn't know and it made his heart race. "Do you want me to be yours, Alfie?"

"Yes, Miss."

"You want me to stay with you? Always? Do you want to keep this little cunny happy?"

"Yes love, please. Miss, yes."

"Do you need me Alfie?" you taut him with a soft voice.

"Yes, love, I need you. Miss." he rushes out, forgetting himself as he sees your body rising and falling in a serpentine fashion against him.

"Will you be a good boy and behave? Listen to what your misses says? Do as you're told?"

"Yes miss." he groans, voice more desperate.

"Are you going to act like the grown fucking man I know you are? Because that's what I want Solomons. A grown. Fucking. Man." you bite out against him. "I don't need a boy who lies. I want a man to face the consequences of his actions. One that will fuck me proper and love me even harder. Are you that man, darling?"

"Yes, love I am. I'll prove it to you. I love you, Gen and I'm mad about you. Let me show you, love. Let me keep you." his eyes are wide and you see the sincere feelings behind his words.

You lean in to kiss his flushed face. "Desperation for me does look so delicious in your eyes, Alfie." you kiss his cheek. "I won't leave you. You silly beast." you whisper into his ear, nuzzling against his face. "Not today anyway." you huff out a laugh. "Since you said please. And I am absolutely soaked and aching for your cock I suppose it's time to reward you for this good behavior." you run your tongue up the side of his face. "Does a good boy want his misses to fuck him?"

"Yes, fuck, please, Gen. Me balls are fuckin' purple from this, love."

"Does it hurt?" you say condescendingly.

"Yes, it fuckin' does love. I've never needed someone as badly as I do you right now." his voice is raspy and urgent and you give another lick to his lips, a happy groan from you.

"I'll let you inside me. But I'm taking what I need from you first. I'll be fucking you, not the other way around." you tap his nose in punctuation as you slide off him and onto the bed. "Come now. Use those sturdy legs." you instruct, grabbing his arms and hauling him up onto the bed. His wide eyes show his surprise for your strength and you give him a cheeky smile. You even give him pillows to let his arm lay in a less painful way as you push him down and straddle him.

Moving fast, keeping him on his toes, you slide down onto him, his head falls back and he lets out an open-mouthed moan.

"That's what I want to hear." you purr, slapping your hands down onto his chest and starting a fast pace, bouncing yourself against him, a quick slap of skin, broken with grinding down hard on him, rubbing yourself against him. "Look at me love. Watch me take your cock." you say breathily, leaning back with your hands on his legs and riding him as hard as you could. His eyes are dark and half-lidded, watching himself pump in and out of you. Eyes wandering over your thighs as they slam into him, your tits bouncing and ribs shifting under your skin as your moans grow louder.

"Fuck, Gen I-

"DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING COME!" you shout, leaning forward and slapping him hard across the face. "Don't even fucking think about it. I'm coming all over this cock first. You can't come until I want you to. This cock is MINE." you growl, pounding him as hard as you can, holding his throat firmly. "Fuck me harder and make me come, Alfie. I want us both soaked to our thighs after I'm done with you. Make me come all over that fat cock, you dog."

He grits his teeth and prays, planting his feet as best he could and using his stomach to push back into your assault on his hips.

"That's it. Fuck me Solomons." your growl continues, one hand on his chest now, leaning back and rubbing your clit. "Show me this your cunny. Make it yours. Make me come." you demand, starting to lose the fight against the oncoming orgasm. Your hips falter and your nails dig into his skin making him hiss. Your eyes roll back dramatically heading falling back as you let loud, body folding moans up toward the canopy of the bed. "Good boy. Such a GOOD. FUCKING. BOY." you growl and shout, grinding against him as you snarl, eyes fluttering back open to meet his, yours looking black against your flushed face as they glared down at him. "Now if I untie you will you make me come again? Fuck me like a good boy, hmmm?"

"Yes, fuckin', GAH let me at you love, fuckin' christ." he squirms as you laugh loudly at his desperation.

"There's my man." you lean to bite his lip before swinging your leg off of him and rolling him to his front. "Don't struggle so much, or it'll hurt more." you say, your knowledgeable fingers working against the ropes as quickly as they could. He moans and groans into the bed as the grip loosens, his fingers moving again as you watching the veins pulse underneath his flushed skin. "Come now, on your back, slowly." you say, giving him a rub between the shoulder blades.

"Fuckin' 'ell." he grumbles rolling back over.

"Let them readjust first. Eager." you smirk and rub his shoulders.

"I'm gonna make that bossy little cunny mine as soon as me fuckin' arms work." he groans, a hint of playfulness in his voice at his inability to pounce.

"Good. That's what I want. A man who can take AND give." you whisper, licking your lips and rubbing his forearms. You place his hands on your breasts. "Play with them, it'll help." you wink and giggle, and he grabs them tightly, tighter than you thought he might be able to but you loved the thrill of it. He gives one a slap. "Oh! So rough." you taunt and grin.

"Gonna show you fuckin' rough." he growls, no tease in his voice now, only need. He grabs you and slams you face first into the bed. A hard slap to your arse first, followed by another, then you hear a hungry growl followed by a hard bite to the same area.

"C'mon you big dog, fuck me." you say, getting up on your knees.

Without a word he slaps over your slit, a stinging and not playful hit. He pushes into you, only breathing and wordless noises, he had embraced the beast you'd been calling him and let it out. Having been teased for longer than he ever had before, he needed a fierce release at your expense.

He comes at you hard, your brace against the headboard, hand wrapped around the edge as his nails make tiny rivulets of blood run down your thighs he holds you so tightly. You love this urgency you feel in him, this raw need you wanted to feel. You wanted it to hurt, to be hard and bruising to fuck the anger out of you.

He slaps your arse over and over, red and welting as he grunts and growls, a hard pounding into you. He scratches his way up your back, hand gathering your hair, making a messy fist of it to yank your head back, then pounding into you as he slapped your arse and thighs and held you up by your hair.

"Yes you fucking beast, make this cunny yours, Solomons." you cry out, eyes in the back of your head and your shame nowhere to be seen. "This is why I let you act like a fucking fool. Because you can do this. This is why I let you do this because you give me what I need. You're such a good fucking boy all red and angry, aren't you?" you demand and he pushes you down on the bed, his full weight on you. "Fuck yes, take me like a fucking beast, Alfie, yes." you cry out.

"Such a fuckin' slag for this cock, little Genny." his breath hot and heavy in your ear as he lets out every bit of negative emotion against you. "You aren't fuckin' leavin' me. You can't. You couldn't live without this cock you little fuckin' tart." he slaps your cheek, hand in your hair and pressing your face into the bed. "No one's gonna fuck you betta than me you fuckin' posh little cunt." he bites at you. "You ARE mine. You'll ALWAYS be mine. Do YOU understand?" he shouts and you nod and gasp, your mouth opening and shouting as his words brought on another orgasm. "That's it, pet, fuckin' come around your beasts cock. This what you want yeah? To treat me like an animal then get fucked like one? You filthy girl." he groans and shouts, losing himself as you squeeze around him. "Feels so fuckin good, little one, such a tight cunny for me and so fuckin' wet you little bossy bitch." he slaps your arse again and you squeal, he sees the unfiltered delight across your face. "Fuck me you are fuckin' filthy. You like those crude names, pet?"

"Yes, fucking tell me how bad I am." you moan, drooling out onto the bed.

"My perfect little misses like being called a dirty fuckin' slag? Fuckin' 'ell." he moans, resting his head against your back for a moment to catch his breath.

"I'm your Madonna and your whore, Alfie." you cry out helplessly. "Take this cunt, love, fill me up and make it yours."

"Gonna." he gruffs out, holding you down by your lower back, pounding into you, bringing on another orgasm at the new deep angle. "Again? So fuckin' hungry for it, pet." he scolds, a growing growl in his chest begins, and you're swimming in your own bliss inside your head, convulsing under him and being hit hard and heavy into. "Ah, fuck, Genny. Gonna have me drippin' outta you for fuckin' days with what you caused." he barks through gritted teeth, pushing into you as far as he could, his mouth opening and letting out a loud, wanton moan that caused you to shudder against him. "Fuck me." he pants out, dropping to his elbows first then letting his body rest on top of yours. You feel his heaving against you, and you hum contently, shutting your eyes. "Alright love?" he mumbles out against your sweat-soaked skin.

"Mmm Hmm." you nod. "Perfect." you sigh out. You stay there for a little while, catching your breath, enjoying the warmth of him against you, the weight making you feel safe and secure. His words making you feel satisfied with the punishment you gave and took.

He lifts himself off of you, arms shakey as he rolls to his back, legs limp and hands on his stomach. You move with a soft grunt, although slowly. "Covers, love." you manage out, pulling them down and he grunts and groans, letting you pull them out from under him without grace and cover you both back up.

"Feel like a bath is due now with what filth that was." he lets out a deep, lazy chuckle.

"What beautiful filth it was." you sigh, snuggling against him your happy expression and kitten like mannerism such a shock after what transpired.

"You really okay with what I called you?"

"That was the best hate fuck I've ever had and if we're angry you could call me almost anything and I'd be perfectly accepting of it. I like the pain and the punishment after giving it out. Exhausts me mentally and physically. It's what I need."

"And are you worn out, love?"

"Entirely." you hum.

"So you ain't mad now?"

"Not right now no."

"Have I found a way to keep you from fuckin' killin' 'n leavin' me?" he grins.

"Perhaps." you laugh and kiss his chest. "Just be honest with me. Fuck me right and be sweet afterward and we'll have no problems."

"So if we fight... we'll just have us a good hate fuck and work it out the old fashioned way?" he smirks, eyes shut and hand stroking your hair.

"Yes, sir." you giggle.

"Oh. Almost felt me cock stir on that one." he chuckles. "Can't wait for you to be naughty and have to tie you up and you call me 'at."

"Knowing me it will be sooner than later won't it?" you laugh and look up at him, his face at rest, a soft smile on his face.

"Yes it will my filthy little girl."

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

Text

Choking On Sapphires 66

Title & Song: Your Sins Will Find You out

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 6100+

Summary: ****IF YOU WOULD BE OFFENDED BY BLASPHEMY WITH CHRISTIANITY AND/OR CATHOLICISM...DO NOT READ THIS.**** Because this is all about a former Catholic letting out her pent up rage for it and her father by fucking her Jewish boyfriend in a confessional and having a nasty mouth while he role plays as a priest. Alfie and Gen are naughty. Let us never forget that. Amen.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit Sexual Content: Vaginal and anal play. Dirty Talk. Sex in a confessional. Role Play as a Priest. So, blasphemous if you’re into that sort of thing. A giant fuck you to her Catholic upbringing and dad. FLUFF. Talk of marriage. They’re so twisted I adore them.

**Chapter song is Your Sins Will Find You Out by Eli Paperboy Reed.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

You meet him at the church, a large and old cathedral that apparently matched the importance of the man who had passed. You hadn't known him but knew he was a big deal in the jewelry quarter, and if he was important enough for Alfie to feel the need to be seen at the funeral you figured it was important enough to dress up for.

Granted, it certainly felt correct to walking into a Catholic church in all black for the first time in over thirteen years. As was your intention, heads turn when you walk in and you feel a tingling sense of naughtiness pass over you. Perhaps it was that Catholic guilt that had been beaten into you over the years through corporal punishment. The wild years you'd spent beating that guilt away with the same actions that put it into in the first place come to mind, you slink about the stone and stained glass in the entryway, looking for Alfie.

You watch his face change when he sees you, and it does more for you than endless heads turning in any room could. Your dress, a high necked, long sleeved and floor-length black gown. Sheer coverage over a solid black bodice and skirt clung to your filled out feminine form, your jeweled handbag clutched in your grasp as you sauntered over towards him, his eyes looking over you as the men he's speaking to turn to see what's caused an uncharacteristic silence from Alfie.

You looked like an angel of death, walking into the room the way you did. Your hair plaited and pulled around to one side, a jeweled clasp containing the soft mass of it. Your earrings sparkled, catching the light from the stained glass windows in their multitude of colors. He clears his throat as you approach, outstretching his hand to place on your back in a subtle statement of possession. "'Ello darling," he says softly with a mutual nod as you stand like a statue by his side as he introduces you. "Gentlemen, this is my lovely Miss Genevieve Durand," he spoke smoothly, you loved the pride you could hear in it in its gruffness. "This is Mr. Doyle, Mr. Callahan. Jewelers both and Doyle is an old school mate of mine." he elaborates as you extend your hand to eldest first.

"Mr. Callahan." you give a polite nod and curtsy to them both as they shake your hand, seemingly unsure of the boldness of the gesture from a woman, and possibly hesitant to touch something seemingly owned by Alfie. "Mr. Doyle. Lovely to meet you both."

"Miss." they both respond politely.

"Might I say your jewels are pristine, Miss Durand." Mr. Callahan says.

"You may." you give him a friendly smile to break the tension. "And thank you. I take great pride in them." you return your hands to your purse in front of you.

"Would you excuse us?" Alfie says, a hand lightly on your elbow to pull you towards the large, daunting wooden doors that led into the arched peaks of the cathedral.

"Something the matter?" you whisper, recognizing the acoustics of the room would be awe-inspiring.

"No, no," he says with a shake of his head. "Just wanted a moment with you before..." he gestures vaguely with his hand to the pulpit. "...all this begins." he huffs out. You walk leisurely past statues and towering examples of art in the room as you speak softly, moving among the attendees with polite nods. "I must say you look stunning." he expresses closely to your ear.

"Thank you darling." you bat your lashes at him. "You look handsome as always. Did you trim your beard?" you ask, refraining from running your fingers through it.

"I did, ever the observant one." he chuckles. "You look like the angel sent down to retrieve the man in question today from his final resting place. A portrait of the angel of dark and light, love." he muses.

"You speaking of beauty in such a macabre way will do things to me Alfie, you know this." you smirk at him.

"As it should. Perhaps if death had looked like this I wouldn't have fought so hard to stay alive during the wars, eh?" he gives a cheeky grin and the thrill of the discussion in such a morbid way was causing your face to blush. "You've been paintin' me as deities but if I were a painter, yeah? I'd be paintin' you exactly like 'is. Like a female Abaddon, dripping in all black, joining with the abyss. Oh, what fire and destruction you could bring, my love." he whispers. "Never full so the eyes of man are never satisfied." he recites and you blush deeper shades as those soft lips seduce you with their silver tongue accomplice.

"If you keep charming me in such a way we both very well may burst into flames in this church." you hold back a giggle that threatened to break the solemn silence of the dark atmosphere. "Trying to seduce me at a funeral. My word, Alfie." you playfully scold, a gentle smack to his chest. "Have my lurid curiosities started rubbing off on you?" you question.

"More interesting in rubbin' off on you, love." he says without making eye contact, an entirely casual delivery that makes you cover your mouth to stifle the laugh.

"Alfie Solomons." you hiss with wide eyes and pursed lips to hide your smile.

"Wot?" he grins and it charms you entirely.

"You should stop enabling me, who knows what'll happen if you keep talking like that."

"I know what'll happen." he nods and leans in close. "And it has been nearly two weeks since I've been with you and I have to say I welcome whatever that aberrant brain of yours can come up with." he gives you cocky nod of his head.

"Is that a challenge?" you ask with raised brows.

"It's whatever you want it to be love." he coos.

You sit through the lengthy service and behave, the smoke and costume bringing back flashes of your childhood. Alfie quirks his eyebrow at you when you recite the readings, you ignore him, you couldn't help that they'd been engraved into your psyche by cold and brutal nuns that would lash at your hands if you didn't recite them properly. Your hands started to ache just at the thought. This all led you back to your father and thinking about the man that had spoken to you fills you with a deep annoyance you try to keep from turning into red hot anger. But the lingering effects of Alfie's cheeky words stay with you, you can feel it every time you shift your thighs. It brings back an old and familiar feeling, that naughtiness you felt so often when you were younger that couldn't be contained. That want to rebel, to be bad and revel in it. You let your anger fuel it, planning what you might do to indulge in it. It'd been so long since you'd gotten up to some good old fashioned naughtiness, perhaps it was time to get back in touch with your sexually adventurous side again since you had a singular man to cater to your whims now. And he certainly seemed enthusiastic to do so.

Alfie can see the tension around your eyes, the way they looked out far past the priest who was speaking. He wasn't sure what the cause of it was, but when he reaches out to put his hand on your thigh your eyes flutter out of their trance and you take a deep breath and smile at him softly. You scoot closer, he puts his arm over your shoulders and your cross your legs towards him. You let your hand rest on his thigh to plant the seed in his head that you might do more. But you resist. You rest against him, your thumb moving back and forth slightly on occasion, leaving him wondering about your motive.

It is announced the cemetery that the man will be taken to and it is asked for everyone to clear out, with instructions given on who to follow to get there. As the front moves out first, once the procession gets back to you, you reach out and takes his arm gently to keep him close and before you reach the doors, you step to the side and grip his arm, he looks to you and moves out of the stream of people. You say nothing and neither does he, nodding and waiting as the others filed out. Soon the room was empty.

"You alright, love?" he whispers, leaning into your side.

You shake your head, but your eyes don't read as upset and he lets out a low groan before a mischievous smile comes across your lips. You wait until you hear the front doors close, peaking around the doorway to see only one person left, a very elderly woman who was making her way up the stairs.

"Gen," he whispers, getting your attention. "What are you doin'?" he narrow his eyes at you.

"Having a little fun." you say turning and letting a purposely seductive smile comes across your face. You walk up to him, hands sliding under his coat. "You want to have some fun with me Alfie?" you ask, batting your lashes at him, raising your chin to meet his face.

"What ya got in mind?" a deep, masculine chuckle escapes him.

"I'm feeling rather naughty." you begin with a pout. "Rather lustful. Sinful really." you purr. "You want to play a bit of pretend with me? I've never fucked in a church and I find myself feeling a bit devilish in here..." you grin. "Father." you let out a deep giggle and your tongue peaks out from between your teeth.

"Ah, child." he nods, catching on immediately, but of course he would. "What can I help you with?" he takes your face into his hands, speaking low and slow to you.

"I need to make a confession," you say, pulling away and walking towards the confessional booth that lay in a secluded hallway in a wing off of the main, highly decorated cathedral. "Would you hear me out, Father?" you ask, opening the door to what would be his side of the wooden booth, your back arched and pressed against the door.

"That I would." he says with that deep velvet tone that touches you in your most intimate places.

You move to the other side of the booth and sit, hands in your lap, the space smaller than you remember, the lights filtering in from the tinted glass top, a suited red wash over the cubicle. "Forgive me Father. For I have sinned. It has been... thirteen years since my last confession." you let out a chuckle that is purely you and not part of the role-playing you were partaking in.

He slides open the barrier, the lattice separating the two of you. You can see his intimidating silhouette also bathed in red light. He leans back against the wall. Trying to recall everything he knew about Catholicism. “Please tell me of your sins." He begins with simply.

“I accuse myself of lust, Father.” Your voice quiet and breathy, making the hairs on his arms prickle up at attention. “You see... there is this man.” He feels the corner of his mouth pull back into a smile. “He does things to me. Makes me feels things. Gives me the most perverse thoughts. Sinful and adulterous things, Father.” You whisper.

"What thoughts, I must know the nature of your sins." you can tell by his low and breathy tone that you're having an effect on him.

"Sodomy," you whisper. "I want him everywhere, Father. All the time. In the most unnatural of ways." your words and low tone travel over his skin and make his cock twitch to attention. "I get so turned on thinking about him wasting the gift of life in my mouth just so I can taste him that I pleasure myself to the thought." you run your hands down your chest, stimulating your hard nipples, listening to his heavy breathing just a short distance away. “I know it is wrong, Father. I know I should stay away from a man that makes me lose control the way he does. But I cannot. I know he’s bad. Not only for my salvation but he is a criminal, Father as well. Bad for me because he inspires such lustful yearning. Bad for himself for what he does. And oh... does it makes me wet thinking of the evil he does.” you practically moan, hearing him shift next to you.

“Why would you associate with a man like this, child?” an almost dopey smile on his face, he grunts and move his hips to undo the button on his trousers.

“Because I like being bad.” You purr. “I like that he’s a criminal. A thief. A liar. A murderer. All these things are sins I must also ask for forgiveness for. But none as much as my sins of the flesh. I’ve never met a man like him. When he touches me it makes me so hot it’s as if his fingers were the licking flames of hell come up to devour us both in our sin. I find myself at worship of him instead of Christ." you bite your lip and start the pull your skirt up your thighs with a low hum.

“A man who inspires blasphemy is no man to be with.” he groans, his hand moving under his clothes to rub at himself.

“But that is what makes it so delicious, Father. I am a filthy sinner and I’ve come to confess it. I love him and I love how he possesses me. He makes me his whore, Father. And I must confess these sins because they consume me mind, body, and soul just as he has.”

“And you are looking to be cleansed of your sins?” his head rests back, eyes closed as his hand moves slowly up and down his hard cock.

“Yes, Father. Cleanse me of my lustful sins.” you whine, your hand rubbing yourself over your knickers.

“You know I have the power to absolve you. And your sins are grave, child.” he says through gritted teeth, the filthy words still floating around his lust hazed mind.

“They are Father. I feel I must be punished for them.” you hear him grunt and you slip your fingers under your pants, sliding them down your legs.

“You must repent. Then I will forgive you and you will be cleansed.” he smirks, his tongue flicking out over his open lips, hand unintentionally tighter now around himself.

“What must I do Father?” You play up, a wicked smile on your face as you spread the growing wetness up and down your soft slit.

“You must kneel.” he says in a demanding tone that makes you whimper

“To pray Father?” you ask innocently.

“To worship.” He states certainly and you shut your eyes with a heavy exhale. “You must come here, child. Your sins are so grave I must lay my hands on you to see the proof of your sin myself.” you let out a low growl of pleasure for the demand.

“Anything you say, Father.” You slip out of the booth, a quick look around to find no one around before you slowly back into his side of the confessional.

He sits with his cock out, hand loose and teasing around it. You turn and act surprised and he is smitten with by your acting once again.

“Father!” You say with an accusation, your lips and tongue moving slowly, eyes fixated on his hand, shaking his cock at you.

“You’ve told me of what a whore you can be. I want you to embrace it, purge it all here and now. Show me what a whore you are so I will know what punishment will serve you.”

You drop to your knees and take his cock out of his grasp. ”Will this grant me forgiveness?” you whisper licking your lips only a breath away from him, looking into his dark eyes, mouth set in a wicked smile.

“Only I have the power to make that decision. And if you truly wish to be absolved, I will know through your actions." his eyes stare into yours as you ghost your lips across the underside of his cock. "So show me."

"What a whore I am for him?" you ask, lips moving back down his length.

"Yes." he nods and rests his hands at his sides, a challenging look on his face.

You close your eyes and stick out your tongue, a broad lick across his balls as his nostrils flare. You do as he asks, the thrill of the crude words, the power he was holding over you in this scenario all drove you forward. You take his balls into your mouth, humming as your lips suck at the soft flesh. You return your gaze to him, a long open-mouthed lap up his cock before taking him down and into your throat. He releases a noise that tells you you're doing well. He brushes a few fallen pieces of hair from your face, his hand waiting, resting lightly on your head. You keep quiet as best you can, knowing the door was latched, but that was all the protection you had against any intrusion. You bob on him deeply, lips gripping and tongue swirling, the wet sucking noises, and your gasping breaths as you popped off him the only sounds. The heat started to build in the small location, you could feel the sweat starting to form on your spine and between your legs as they were pushed together in the small space.

He grips you by your braid at the base of your head, pulling your head back and tapping his cock against your lips that were set in a wicked smile before extending out your tongue and panting for him. "If you want my forgiveness and my absolution, you must do what I ask of you." his tone was deep and dark, eyes giving you no reason to be drawn out of the fantasy.

"Am I not proving what a whore I am?" you ask with batting lashes, such a juxtaposition to how you were gagging on his cock just moments before. "Forgive me," you whisper, taking his hands and placing them on either side of your face. "Use me." you ask of him, "Fuck my face. I want you to." you say with pouted lips before your long lashes flutter shut, casting shadows as you take him down again, shaking your head once you reach the base of him.

"Fuck." you hear him groan out, trying to stay quiet. He grabs your head, fingers in your pulled back hair, as his hips begin to move himself in and out of your mouth, feet pushing hard into the floor as he picks up speed. You welcome it, keeping your lips taut and your throat relaxed, still sucking at him, breathing through your nose and making gagging noises as he ventured far into you. He stops as he feels the saliva follow a hard gag, lifting your head up to make sure he wasn't hurting you.

"Don't stop." you say with the tip of his cock in your mouth and he growls, you moan as he goes right back to it, swearing under his breath. He doesn't want to finish in your mouth, even if you'd confessed to loving it. He wants to give you something more, up close and personal to thank you for what was one of the more twisted fucks he'd ever had. He pulls you off of him again, this time one handed with a fist full of hair.

You look a mess and you know it, your eye makeup smudged with watery eyes, lipstick nowhere to be seen now except at the base of his cock. With spit strung from your mouth to his cock, hanging from your chin he swears at the sight. "You shouldn't swear, Father." you say through heavy panting and he gives your cheek a firm but not even stinging slap. "Am I being punished?" you ask with half lidded eyes and a smile that makes his balls tighten in its naughtiness.

"Not yet." he snarls out, moving you both in the small space. "Up." he says, hand still on your hair and pulling you to your feet. You both circle, switching spots in the booth as he reaches behind you to grab the chair he'd been sitting in after peaking outside to the body of the church to check for anyone being around. He knew with what he planned to do to you, that you wouldn't be keeping quiet on your own.

He shut and latches the heavy wooden door behind him with a daunting and echoing sound. He presses you against the back wall, the sturdiest and most quiet of the four offered to you. He presses himself against you, holding you tight by the chin. "Do you believe yourself to have repented enough, child?" he gruffs out, nose grazing your jaw as you hum in excitement as you lick your lips.

"I do not." you shake your head and give him the largest and most innocent eyes you can afford given the state you were in.

"And do you think you have shown me the extent of your lustful sins?"

"I do not." you answer the same.

"Then lift up the lovely dress." you gather it in your hands, fisting handfuls of black fabric to your hips. "Such a modest thing only a lady would wear. And you are no lady." He shakes his head and hums in a low register "I think your sins deserve more punishment." he grunts, yanking your leg up around his hip hard, a rough grasp on your thigh.

"Yes." you breathily whisper. "I still feel the lust controlling me." you purr.

"Is it? You're being awfully well contained." he whispers back, judgmental and scolding, the back of is hand running up your thigh to your hip.

"Then I will act upon it," you state clearly. "I'm aching for your cock. This little cunt is dripping for you, Alfie. I want your hands on me to be bruising, to show me how naughty I've been. To mark me as your property. I'm here to serve your lust and be shamed for mine, aren't I? Then treat me like some little strumpet. Use me. I'm your little whore, Alfie. Treat me as such." you whimper and whine, your lips ghosting against his. You reach down and stroke his cock, pushing the head against your soft wet folds.

His nostrils flare, a bull emerging with broad shoulders and punishing hands to wrap around your neck, giving it a squeeze as you play up trouble breathing. "I love that filthy mouth you have Genevieve. You dirty girl." he groans. "The things you make me want to do to you, love. Worth going to hell for." he rasps. "You make me more beast than man." he huffs air out of his nostrils and you feel the heat of it across your skin.

"Show me." you rasp out, beckoning him with wet, parted lips.

A sharp slap to your cheek surprises you. "You aren't the one making demands here," he whispers sharply. "You are here to receive me. Receive my forgiveness."

"Fill me with your love and light. Cleanse me with your forgiveness, please." you ask of him, lashed batting at him with innocence to the motion, but the way your tongue flicked across your lips show it to be anything but. "Free me." you whisper, rocking your hips against the head of his rock that had been teasing at your clit. "Show me what bliss your forgiveness grants."

"What a debauched creature you are." he moans, giving in to a harsh kiss. You feel him move fast, a sharp slap to your lips before grabbing your hips and pushing your front against the wall. You hear a brief rustling of your dress before you feel him hard and hot between your cheeks. He gives you a few stern slaps with his cock, a single run down your folds before pushing into you. He groans at the feeling, being able to sense how much you were enjoying this taboo romp as well, as he slid inside you with hardly any resistance.

Of course, you moan and it as always one of the most gorgeous sounds he'll ever hear but he slaps his hand over your mouth, the other hard on your hip, keeping them pulled away from the wall with your back arched as he pumped into you. "Gotta keep quiet, can't have the other's knowing of what a sinner you are, can we little lamb?" he hisses before a sharp slap to your arse. You let out little whimpers against his palm with each thrust, your tongue lapping at the hot skin. "Can't have one bad girl lead the rest of the flock astray can we?" he whispers before taking your earlobe between his lips, looming over you.

You murmur a response against his hand, but it doesn't matter now. He scolds you for making noise, grunting with every pound into you. He hits hard, only breaking to pull you apart, your mouth gaping open from the release, both his hands on your arse and wobbling it, watching himself move in and out of you, seeing himself slick with your wetness. "Oh fuck." you whisper, pressing your hand flat against the stable wall.

"No swearing from you, Genevieve. Naughty girl. Else I'll have to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours again." You respond with a noise of want, his fingers tighter now into the bouncing flesh of your lower half. Your tongue lolls out, the pressure building inside you, this angle always fulfilling you, especially with his adept hands and mouth to accompany it. "That what you want? Wash that hot, pink mouth out with my spunk, eh?"

"Want you to-oh, please come inside me." you whine and his eyes roll back in his head.

"That what she wants?" he lets out a devilish deep chuckle. "Full this little cunny up with me? Make your take all 'a me? Eh?" he spanks you hard and you tense and squeal, his mouth open and panting. "Leave you drippin' with it like the little whore you are for me, yeah? Gettin' fucked like this... by a man like me. You are fuckin' filthy and fuckin' love you for it." he rushes out, pushing his hips out. "Could watch me cock fuck you like this all fuckin' day love. Fuckin' perfect little flower innit ya? And this tight... little... arse of yours." He swipes his thumbs over the tensing hole and you shudder. "Fuckin' dirty girl." he whispers. He leans over you, teeth on your earlobe as he pants hot and heavy against your skin, his fingers pushing into your mouth to silence you, but you moan and starting sucking away and spanks you again. "You were askin' for it, Genny. What kinda woman would you be, eh? Gettin' buggered like this? Ought to just to teach ya a fuckin' lesson." his thumb presses against your arsehole again and your thighs shudder, moaning around his fingers again. "And you want it? Fuck me..." he rasps out, picking up speed and making you whimper, wet swollen lips around his fingers as he held your chin. Thumb circling, spreading your abundant wetness to allow his thumb to slide into you.

"Oh fuck." you moan out against his fingers.

"I 'eard that one, yeah?" he lets out a deep groan into your ear, you hear him huff into it, voice growing rougher. "All your holes filled little one." he taunts. "Showin' me what a whore you are for me... good fuckin' girl. Ya tight as fuck 'round me Genny, you gonna come, yeah?" he whispers, still hitting into you, as you hold yourself off the wall to receive as much of him as you could. "Come hard all over this cock, Gen, all fuckin' over it." he groans through gritted teeth. "You've got me so fuckin' hard, love, jesus christ." his voice cracks with the inflection. "Want you fuckin' drippin' down me fuckin' bollocks Genevieve. My lovely little whore innit ya? Just for me. A missus and a whore. Lucky. Fuckin'. Me." he snarls pressing his nose into your ear.

As it always did, his filthy mouth takes you where you need to go. He watches your eyes flutter and roll back, your hips buck, stuttering against his and it only fuels him to fuck into you harder. He wanted to have to muffle your screams, wanted to make you his by making you come so hard you cried out for him.

"Alfie." you murmur with his fingers in your mouth. He presses them farther in still.

"Don't you fuckin shout now. Else I'll have to gag you won't I?" he threatens and you moan. He thinks he hears a please to his threat and he growls, pressing his thumb in deeper, bending his knees to go as hard and fast as his body would let him.

If he didn't know your body, he would've thought something was wrong. You let your face push against the wall, drool running down his hand as he held your tongue, dripping down your chin, past those pinked lips as you made inhuman noises when he'd leave you with space to breathe. Your knees give, he presses you flat against the wall, still thrusting into you as you shake and convulse. He can feel your rings of muscle so tight around him he whines, feeling your cunt soaked for him, another wave of slick now running down his shaft and over his balls, making him throw his head back and grit his teeth to control himself. He feels your orgasm through every bit of you, your stomach spasms, thighs shivering, cunt seizing and your hands trembling against the wood they rested on. "Fuckin' 'ell Genny, yes, fuck, ya make me so fuckin' greedy for it love. Give me every last drop before I fill you back up." he pants out into your back before he can't hold back any longer. His hand moves from your mouth with a wet slick pop, a gasp from you as you bubble spit through your lips with clenched teeth to not cry out for him. He holds your hips roughly. A string on swears, you can make out "Gimme... ya... fuckin'... cunt." hissed out as he finishes inside you, a hard hit and grunt with each spasm.

You keep your noises minimal, your breathing the only loud thing in the confines of the wooden booth. Your eyes blink open with new clarity, the lust no longer blurring your vision. The red wash over your skin felt appropriate. As he came down, forehead pressing into your back, you feel him lose his tension against you, you can feel the small twitch of him inside you and you hum contently. You're hit with a moment of artistic inspiration. You envision bodies with a red wash over them, limbs against the dark grain of the wood, crosses between heavy breasts, the ends being sucked on by wet and swollen lips. Hands in prayer, pressed to bare breasts, a strong hand wrapped around the praying neck. It'd been a while since inspiration had struck you in such a way. Alfie interrupts your thoughts by clearing his throat.

"Ya okay love?" he asks, as considerate afterward as ever.

"Yes just, help me turn." you let out a huff of a laugh. He does, putting himself back into his trousers and straightening your skirt. He studies your face, licking his thumb, and wiping away the running mascara, using his handkerchief to finish the job and clear the drool from your chin.

"You look glorious in this light, Genevieve." he whispers, gentle fingers trailing down your jaw.

"You look so villainous and... beastly." you smile, tilting your head and pushing the stray strands of hair behind his ears, evening out his collar and vest. "But handsome all the same." you say with a pucker of your lips and he meets them without hesitation.

"You are a fuckin' wonder, my love." he whispers against them, now tending to your hair. "I'm the luckiest bastard alive. I know that for certain." he nods. "You are bloody brilliant. You look so fuckin'....absolutely sweet and then the things you do... oi vey Gen they're gonna kill me and I'll die with a fuckin' smile on me face." he chuckles and kisses you again.

"As long as it's me that kills you." you grin and stroke his beard. "No one else gets to kill you but me." you say with a playfully scolding tone and he lets out a deep rumbling, deeply content sound.

"No one but you, love. No one else but you." he exhales in a happy sigh.

"Because you are mine to do with as I please aren't you darling?'

"Fit to call me your whore instead." he gives a boyish chuckle.

"As long as we're only whores for each other." you nod and return the contented sound.

"Only for you." he kisses you softly. "If you feel absolved, I believe I can give a look out and see what trouble we're in." he laughs and nods his head to the door.

"Forgiven," you say with a nod. "Let's face it shall we?" you ask with a tilted head.

He opens the door and holds out his hand to you, getting a good look at each other to make sure you don't seem too disheveled. You take a deep breath and leave the confessional booth open so the smell of sex isn't so obvious. He walks quietly behind you and you stand by the pulpit, looking around and considering how you'd thought about marriage before. Within walls like these, under all that Catholic guilt you'd never wanted marriage. It was ownership to you, a cage and a sentence of servitude. But now, finding yourself, your heritage and religion all crossing paths to point you to the man in front of you, you felt so entirely the opposite about it.

"Ya alright love?" he asks, taking both your hands. "You gettin' the spirit?" he chuckles, looking up at the stained glass windows.

"I feel... yes... yes I believe I feel Christ's love." you nod and look up and he let's out a laugh.

"Well 'at's a problem for a Jew there innit?" he snorts, shaking his head at you.

"We'll just have to see how I feel after fucking in another religious place won't we?" you say with a smile.

"Genevieve..." he scolds. "I can't rightly agree to goin' at it in such a way at Temple." he scoffs.

"Not even for our Yichud?" you ask with a sparkle of innocence in your eyes and his heart melts at the mention of it.

"Ah!" he says, taking your face into his hands. "There is my sweet little Chanah again at last." he grins and kisses you softly. "Of course we will for our Yichud, my love." he hums against your lips. "But I wouldn't refer to such a thing as fuckin'." he shakes his head and you feel a flutter in your stomach for the sentiment.

"Do you plan on making love to your darling wife Alfie?" you coo, your hands on his wrists that held your face.

"I do. You will be my most precious jewel, little Chanah." he lets the romantic sentiments fall out of his mouth and into yours as he kisses you softly. It was fitting how you both felt soft after such perverse things, it opened you both up, let you feel things and inevitably it lead to romantic notions. A breaking down of one wall to push on through to another. It reflected your dual natures and he found it comforting in an odd way; knowing he had both a devil and an angel.

"Then what of the wedding night?" you ask playfully.

"I'll be so tired I'm guessing you'll be on ya own on that one." he lets out a loud laugh that you can't help but join him in. You watching his face laugh, and at his own joke nonetheless, corners of his eyes crinkled, his laugh lines deep as you smile warmly at him. Even if it did turn out that way, you didn't even mind. What a hopeless romantic you'd turned out to be.

#alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solmons #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fan fiction #alfie solomons imagines #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x ofc #Alfie Solomons #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

Text

Choking On Sapphires 64

Title & Song: Love Is Blindness

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 6400+

Summary: With the rest of their time in Paris spent in a dream, the harsh reality of their lives comes crashing back in as Gen and Alfie return home. The backlash to their coupling begins.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Canon-typical violence. Possessiveness. Fluff. Angst. Alfie and Gen teaming up against someone. Business turns personal. Defending each other.

**Chapter song is Love is Blindness by Jack White.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

You wake up in the dim morning light, his head to the side as you murmur and look up at him. The unfocused glow of the sun falling across his face, freckles that are barely visible across his nose and cheeks, the warm light making the red in his hair more prominent. It made him glow like the cinders of a dying fire, reminding you of the burning emotion that lay just beneath the surface.

You rise to turn your upper body to lay on his chest more so you can kiss his jaw. He grumbles and winces, nose twitching as his lips pout, pulling himself out of sleep. You kiss him again, your hand on his cheek, a simple press to his cheek, watching his eyes disappearing under his heavy hooded lids as his brow dips low, shifting before finally opening. A deep grunt rises from his chest.

"Mornin' love." his rumbling voice carries out into the breezy, open room.

"Matin, mon Fie." you coo, a kiss to his chest that makes him happily hum. You peck your way up to his cheek again, his arm moving taught around you, bringing you up against him. "Did we really finally say all those things last night?" you ask with a soft smile.

His brow shifts, narrowed eyes still heavy with sleep look down to you curled up like a kitten against him. "I dunno. Did we?" he smirks and reaches up to stroke your hair.

"You really do love me, Alfie?" you ask for purely selfish reasons, wanting to hear it, to see it on his face again.

"Do you love me?" he asks in rebuttal, a charismatic lazy smile playing across his plush lips.

"I asked you first." you say with a wrinkle of your nose.

He chest shakes with a laugh before it carries out of his mouth, stopping when he presses his lips to your head. "Bloody ridiculous." he chuckles. "Asked me first..." he muses and shakes his head, rubbing his face with his hand. "How could I not with that sort 'a response. Cheeky little girl." he grins and moves to squeeze you with both arms. "'Course I love you, you ridiculous creature." he hums happily as your fingers play in his beard, eyes closing again, his body relaxing under yours.

"I love you too." you whisper, nuzzling into his neck. You let out a content sigh against him, fingers lazily stroking his chest hair, setting the tone for the rest of your time in Paris.

------

Your days in Paris were spent in the most ideal of ways, together. You ate until it forces you back to your place to nap, you spent mornings in the marketplace, picking out ingredients for your meals, flowers for the apartment and browsing the young artists work, buying pieces to join your growing wall of paintings. You spend your nights at shows, taking in the opera and the Moulin Rouge. Which wasn't Alfie's cup of tea. You dance by the edge of the Seine to live music, violins accompanying your slow-moving feet as he dips you down in his arms, your laughter disrupting the kisses you share. You walk home across bridges and stopping to kiss at the peaks of their arches, taking your time to look out at the water, the reflections of the city in the moonlight upon it.

Almost every morning and night you make your declarations of love in some form. Some mornings your hands roam and you keep it simple, bringing each other over the edge sloAwly, staying warm under the covers. Your nights are varied, some fast and desperate, him taking you on top of your piano, in the tub before you make it to bed. Others are slow, some with a constant spinning of affectionate words between the two of you, others in silence and always ending in each other's arms as you fell asleep.

The last night he gives you to earrings he'd bought. You felt disappointed in yourself for not having the foresight to get him something in return. He expresses the symbolism of teardrop stones. He promises not to bring you any more tears, save for those made of precious stones. You put them on, and promptly take everything else off, and proceed to have him tell you all the things he wishes for you both. Everything he promises to do, the things he'll never do and ending with the things he wanted to do to you tonight.

The dreamlike escape had to come to an end, and after the long journey back you both crash in bed together for one more night at your home, the next morning the real world awaited you. You see him off to work like you used to and it felt right to spend your mornings together in such a way. You put his hat on his head before he walked out the door, sharing a kiss under the wide brim with both your hands on his face before you let him go. As you watched his car shrink into nothing you feel the weight of worry grow, as the gravity of reality set in once again.

It doesn’t take you long to get back into the swing of things, it wasn’t as if you’d been gone that long. The deep immersion you’d given yourselves over to had only led you to feel as if it’d been months when it was not even a full week. But the good it had done for you both couldn’t really be measured in any tangible way. A scale wouldn’t reflect the lightness you felt now, it could only be felt.

So as Abeille falls back into place, so does Alfies work. And with it, things started to move forward and you were now looking at the first job you’d be working together as a couple. And wasn’t it suited this job would be a dirty one.

You wait in Alfie's office, leaned against his desk as he oversees the placement of the tables for the false truce meeting that would be going down within the hour. You had all the routes ran, knew who was shooting who and all that was left was to set up was the meal and wait for the Greeks to arrive. You weren’t exactly nervous, but you weren’t unbothered by it either. Shooting the head of a crime family was never something to be taken lightly, even if it was premeditated by that heads son. You were placing a lot of trust in Niko to make sure this ran smoothly and that was what was making you apprehensive.

Alfie’s voice breaks your train of thought as your foot bounces with the crossing of your leg, sat back in his chair. “I ‘ave to say, I thought I was Alfie Solomons but it seems that innit right as a body is surely sittin' in the chair only he sits in, yeah?” He muses, shutting the door behind him as you give him a smirk and rise. “But I gotta say, Alfie, ya lookin' bloody good these days.” He lets out a chuckle as he greets you with a kiss to the cheek first, then the back of your hand. “‘Ello love.” He says in a softer voice. “Punctual as always.” He says in his more usual gruff voice.

“I could’ve been late but you wouldn't have known since you are.” you tease.

“Well, it's work innit?” He says in playful defense. “Someone’s gotta tell these boys what to do. Like they were raised by wolves, none can set a table.” He Shakes his head in disappointment.

“I could’ve overseen that, you know.” You offer, letting him take his rightful place in his chair, leaning on his desk next to him.

“I'll let ya next time, yeah? I ain't got the patience to when fuckin' deals like 'is are afoot.” He says with a vague gesturing of his hand.

“Do you want me to go deal with them now?” You offer.

“No, no, love.” He groans, reaching out and taking your hand to pull you closer. “Here’s where I need ya right now.” He says softly, pulling you into his lap.

“Has he had a rough day already?” You coo, scratching your fingers in his beard.

“Aye.” He nods.

“After this are you free? It’s not our usual night spent together but could we have some tea or something? I’d love a chance to give you a pick me up to get you through the rest of the week.” You speak sweetly, seeing his crows feet grow and shift, the weight of his brow low from worry and work.

“You wanna go to my place after 'is? Have a real meal 'n cozy up?” He replies with closed eyes as your soft fingertips work away at his temples and into his slicked back hair. He hums contently at the loving touch he’d missed this week.

“Sounds wonderful darling.” You kiss his temple first, then lightly on the mouth. He grunts and reaches up to hold your hand as it stroked the hair sticking out of his shirt. You're sharing a series of small affectionate kisses when you’re interrupted.

“They’re arriving.” Ollie announces, a head peeking through the door with an indifferent face to finding you two together. Everyone knew about you now, Alfie's men and anyone else who had their eyes and ears on the gossip of London it seemed. You couldn’t blame them for talking though, it wasn’t exactly a match anyone but the two of you had seen coming. A gangster and a businesswoman. Not a likely pairing with the social circles you ran but no one had anything bad to say. Not to your face anyway. Plenty of nosy questions at the gala you’d attended without him but you didn’t mind providing a thrill to the women who dared ask about being with a gangster. It shocked most, as you seemed so polite and well-bred within the art community but you curtly explained he was nothing but a gentleman to you, and as you saw it his business was just that, his, and you would keep to yours. The answer satisfied most of the gossips as it was just vague enough to make any further questions seem suspicious.

“Right.” Alfie grunts, patting the back of your hand. “Let’s get the evenin’ started shall we then Miss Durand?” He asks, his arm swooping out in an ‘after you’ gesture.

“Certainly Mr. Solomons.” You chuckle and rise.

“Ollie see em in 'n pat 'em down.” He gruffs out and nods for him to get to it.

He begins to walk past you out the door and you grab his wrist, causing him to turn towards you with a raised brow.

“Before we do something dangerous...” you begin, putting his hand behind your back. “I wanted to have a proper goodbye. Traditions are important. Can’t be too careful.” You playfully scold.

“Aren’t you just a soft little thing?” He teases.

“I love you darling.” You say with a single press of your lips to his.

“And I love you.” His voice is soft and sweet, the last of it being as such that you’ll hear tonight. “Rejoice not at thine enemy’s fall...” he begins with a smile.

“But don’t rush to pick him up either.” You finish the proverb and chuckle against his lips.

You leave his office and begin the walk towards the main door. “You are a quick mind, love. You’ll be havin’ that bat mitzvah any day now innit ya?” He says walking down the long dusty lane to greet the men at the other end.

“I have still have plenty left to learn.”

“Quick and brilliant as she knows she is not ever finished learning.” He says, his body language and face turning harder. You transform from his little Chanah to Miss Genevieve Durand. He evolved back into Alfie Solomons from your gentle mon Fie. His shoulders shift with guarded body language. All the traces of love wiped from your presentations as you meet the men with indifferent faces, ready to work.

Customary greetings ensue, a too tight hug from Demitri for either you or Alfies comfort. He had already been eager to off the man but the way he looked at you and touched you in his presence was so disrespectful he felt his fingers twitch to pull the trigger himself.

You stay in the back of the group and let Alfie lead the men into the other wing.

“You and Solomons huh?” Niko says, standing still and refusing to move on with the other men.

“He and I what?” You demand him to not be vague.

“You’re together. I’ve heard about it.”

“Yes, we are.” You give a nod of acknowledgment.

“So you were lying to me then?” his tone accusatory and you did not appreciate it one bit.

“What?” You ask with a tilt of your head and innocence to your voice.

“You said you couldn’t be with anyone when I tried to kiss you. Were you with him the whole time?” He asks flatly, his tone concerning.

“I have never lied to you Niko. We were not together when you accompanied me to those parties. Which I thank you for.” You give him a more friendly nod.

“Why him?” He bluntly asks, his eyes looking over you in a predatory way.

You’re surprised by the brashness of the question. “We are here on business tonight Niko, not pleasure. I’m a lady who doesn’t discuss her personal life. Especially in a setting like this. If you are worried about our being professional I assure you we take nothing as seriously as we do our work.” You say walking forward and trying to catch up to the other men.

“No, I know you do.” He says quietly. “But I thought we had something. Next thing I know I hear you’re with Solomons.” He says gesturing towards the doorway.

“It was not something that was foreseen by either of us. It just... happened.” You say with your lips in a tight line. “It is nothing personal against you. I hope you don’t take it so.” You say with bigger eyes to lure him into your softness.

“Hard not to...” He says with wandering eyes.

He was being so bloody difficult and leaving Alfie without you with the men was making you nervous. “You’re a lovely bloke Niko, but the heart wants what the hearts wants. That’s the saying, right? I wasn’t looking for anyone. That was not a lie. I never mislead you, or I tried my best not to. If I came off as anything but sincere you have my deepest apologies.” You say with your hands clasped and a polite nod.

“You have never lied in business I do not know why that would not translate to your personal life as well.”

“Thank you.” You kindly accept. “Shall we?” You ask motioning toward the doorway.

“I will ask only once... but is there any chance I could steal you away from him?” He comes close and leans in, the nerve of him surprising you but you don’t let it show. “You need a young man who can keep up with you. Someone coming up in the world, not sitting idle on bookies and... bread.” He says through gritted teeth.

You’d like to slap him for the insults on behalf of you and Alfie. But you do not, as it wouldn’t make for a good business relationship move. “I would like to say first and foremost I do not NEED a MAN at all.” You state clearly. “I would appreciate it if during business meetings you kept the conversation to business and not make assumptions about me or my personal life. It’s rude. And no. You may not steal me away as I am not a thing to be won or taken.” You say with more bite.

“God, you are feisty aren’t you?” He gives you a wolfish grin. “Solomons....” He says as he walks past you. “He’s a lucky man.” He lilts and you wrinkle up your nose at the tone.

As you follow him into the room he takes up as much space as he can, moving slowly to his seat. Alfie gives you a concerned glance that you can read in his eyes and you give him a nod and a polite smile to continue.

“Ah, lovely Genevieve!” Demitri says, moving his hand to point towards the seat in front of him. “Sit! Sit here so I may look at you it has been so long.” He says with a seemingly genuine smile. But you know his intentions. “I promise not to touch!” He laughs. “But even a blind man wouldn’t help but look eh?” He laughs loudly. “How are you little Genevieve? Is this man treating you well?”He says gesturing to Alfie who sits next to you.

“Yes, he is.” You say in a short time and a nod. “But I believe we are here to discuss business aren’t we Demitri?” You ask with a tilt of your head, your chin rating in your hand and a playful smile on your face. “I can’t have all my best boys fighting now can I?” You pout and play up to him. “You know it upsets me.”

“We must’ve upset the fairer sex must we? Fragile little flowers... they cannot stand the cruelty of the world bless them!” He speaks loudly, as usual, big lungs enclosed in a large barrel chest push his voice around the room.

“You were kind enough to spare Alfie for me before. And you have my endless thanks for that, you know this.” You nod and delicately touch his hand. “But might we come to something more permanent? Seems two minds as terribly clever as yours can see the benefits of a truce?”

“My sons have shown me these reasons yes.” He nods. ”But I am Afraid Solomons has gone beyond business and insulted me. I feel disrespected and I do not want to do business with someone who would speak to me in such a way.” His tone shifts, darker and playing the victim.

“Would an apology work? Could a peace offering be the first step to moving forward?” You ask sweetly.

“Perhaps.” He nods and his bottom lip pouts out over the salt and pepper stubble in his round face. “What would you like to offer?” He asks.

“A showing of peace as is customary for our people. You have the gift of bread and salt here, the best wine as well. We have a grand meal with a ceremonial sacrificial lamb to be prepared as well should you wish you accept the truce.”

“That is what you offer?” He asks almost literally turning his nose up at it.

“This is customary and symbolic of an agreement made.” You say earnestly. “It is sacred and very serious.” You add softly.

“It's a holy order of things to be done to show thanks. This thanks bein’ to you, from the Jews to the Greeks for not finishin’ the job with offin’ me ‘n and for agreein’ to peace between us. It is usually reserved for holy days but we made an exception as Genevieve here felt it was important to conduct the business before Passover.” Alfie chimes in.

“Ah. I see.” He nods.

“Could we agree to not destroy each other? You and Alfie can discuss your contracts under a new leaf turned. You can both conduct your fair business and nothing is lost.”

“Except a part of me fuckin’ shoulder bone. Thanks for that mate.” Alfie raises an eyebrow at the older man.

“I do not like the way he speaks, Geneveive. He is as disrespectful as ever!” He announces.

You were glad you were planning on killing him because it was clear he had no intentions of accepting. “It is a part of his personality and not personal.” You say with a dismissive shake of your head.

“Why are you with him?” He blatantly asks, Niko smirks and crosses his arms.

You can sense Alfie prickling up next to you. "What sort a fuckin' question is that?" he scoffs.

“I’m afraid that’s rather personal and not what we’re discussing here.” You say sheepishly.

“Answer me honestly and I might agree to this truce.” He declares haughtily.

You tap Alfie's foot to let him know you were ready. You look to Niko and he raises his brows and you mirror the gesture, letting him know these were the final moments. He nods and so do you. His eyes cast downward to the table and beginning to look miles away. You sit back in your chair and take a deep breath.

“Because unlike you, he has always been respectful of me Demitri.” You say with an entirely different, colder tone. The man’s face contorts in confusion. “He never once groped or pinched me like some animal with no manners. He never abused his status in society as a man to hold things over my head.” Your tone turns more biting and your face grows angrier. “He never insulted me, and never alluded to the insinuation I was lesser than in ANY way. He sees how smart I am. How clever and ruthless and manipulative. You only ever saw a little doll playing with boys toys and you laughed, never taking me seriously. But you should have Demitri. You should have and since you cannot play the game by the new rules... we’re kicking you out of the game altogether.” Your tone low and sinister.

“How dare you! I have done nothing but help you! A woman in a man’s game! I entertained your enthusiasm because you are clever and pretty but that mouth of yours! What’s the meaning of this?” his back straightening and his tone deeply offended.

“It’s time to step down, father.” Niko says, not making eye contact and shaking his head.

“Is that what this is about?! I’ll never do it! Over my dead body!”

“That can be arranged.” Alfie snidely says.

It all happens quickly. Demitri reaches into his boot for a gun, but his overgrown gut keeps him from executing the movement smoothly. The man standing behind you is set to shoot him, but as you watch Demitri's second, you see him doing the same. This was not part of the plan. You react quickly and pull the snub nose from your chest and shoot him in the face as his arm starts to whip around toward Alfie. The man behind you shoots quickly after that and its impact sprays you with blood and visceral, it wasn’t pleasant but it was part of the plan.

You stand immediately and point your gun at Niko's face. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” You demand, shouting at him.

“What was what?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Roma was pulling a gun on Alfie! I fucking saw it!” You shake the gun in anger. Then everyone, including Alfie stands and aims at the Greeks that were left. Alfie directly at Niko. They were severely outnumbered and would not be fast enough even if they did have guns.

“He was hesitant to the idea of him stepping down.” He says with broad gesturing hands, his voice too collected for your liking.

“So you were going to let him shoot him?! You conniving sack of shit! You don’t get your way and you think you can just go bloody shooting everyone? Did you think if you killed him you’d get me then? Did you, you blubbering fool?!” You shout and feel Alfie's hand on your back, grounding you. Even in the middle of you screaming threats at a man that had perhaps not actively tried to kill him, but also was all too casual in his acceptance of the fact, he felt protective over you. Letting you know you should consider what comes out of your mouth next.

Niko stands with his brother and the other second, both of which clearly weren’t in on the plan from the looks on their faces. “I didn’t PLAN it, no but I knew it might be possible he tried to retaliate. And you took care of it didn’t you?” He snarls back.

“Get the fuck out.” Alfie says gesturing to the back door with his gun. “Ya pay Ollie the rest of the fuckin' money and ya get the fuck out. Our workin' together is fuckin' over, you understand me?” He asks with that supernatural ability to intimidate. The two others are already at the door paying. Niko walks backward slowly. “You come anywhere near my Genevieve again and I’ll fucking shoot you. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the fucking market in broad daylight. You don’t come near her.”

“Oh, you hear that Gen? You’re HIS now eh? Like some Property?” He tries to counter.

“THAT'S BECAUSE I FUCKING AM HIS!” You boom out before Alfie can respond with something besides a snort. “You wouldn’t know a thing about love though would you? You selfish dog.”

“Would I not Gen? Or perhaps I do and that’s the problem?” He counters before exiting.

”You aren’t capable of it! You have shown that tonight with no doubt! You have no one to blame but yourself for your loneliness now. You miserable, egotistical little prick!” You spit out, lowering your gun.

“As you wish sweetheart.” He says, bowing out of the door.

You hand the gun to the man who shot Demitri without taking your eyes off the doorway, your blood still boiling hot.

“Police are on their way.” He says with a solemn nod to you and Alfie puts his gun back into his trousers.

“Ya alright love?” He asks, holding your face. “What did that fucker say before you came in 'ere?”He asks with narrowed eyes, making your flushed, furious face focus.

You struggle to control the having of your chest. “He asked if he could steal me away from you.” You grit out.

“Fuck me.” He growls, staring at the now empty doorway. “I knew I couldn’t trust that little bastard.” He whispers. “I’m sorry love.” He says sincerely. There’s a bang at the metal doors. “Ya capable of doin' 'is?” He asks with a face that didn't show sweetness but of concern for business.

“Of course I fucking am.” You growl, jerking out of his grasp and he feels a thrill of lust surprise him. You take a deep breath, teeth bared as you let out a blood-curdling scream before collapsing to the ground in tears, hands touching your face and chest in disbelief as Alfie dropped to comfort you.

He gives the nod to the men to open the doors. “We was havin’ a meal together when they just bloody opened fire on us!” He exclaims. “Scared me missus absolutely silly. Poor things in fits! Look at her!” His voice inflecting high and wildly, gesturing to you as you sob and gasp and choke and look at your shaking hands and try to frantically wipe the blood off.

“Get her out of here, no lady should have to see this.” The policeman says as he helps you to your feet, and Alfie walks you back to his office with you stumbling along beside him. You sob and carry on until the doors are closed and he’s led you to the couch.

I will now wonder if anything you say or do again is genuine.” He says in a light-hearted way, placing a washcloth in the basin and wringing it out as he eyeballs you from across the table.

“I told you I could do it.” You say with a less angry face, taking the cloth offered and wiping your face.

“I never doubted ya.” He says, pulling a chair up as he helps pick pieces of brain and skull from your hair. You pick under your nails and he wipes the rest of your face off for you, rubbing at your pulled back hairline to clean you up. “There she is.” He says, resting the cloth back into the now pink water. “Although even covered in blood I admit you’re gorgeous.”

“Maybe even particularly covered in it.” You huffed out a small laugh.

“Now let's trudge through what happened back there, yeah?” He says more seriously. “Clearly somefin' happened before you came into 'at room.” He rests his elbows on his knees and leans in to speak quietly.

“Don’t you need to go talk to the police?” You ask, rubbing away at a spot on your dress.

“If they need me they’ll come get me. Best we play it safe while we can, eh? Now stop distractin' me and tell me.” his face wearing a knowing smirk at your attempts to avoid this conversation.

“He asked about us. It was simple really. He asked if you and I were together when he went to those parties with me.” You let out a heavy sigh. “Because he tried to kiss me” you begin.

“Fuckin' knew it” he groans and turns his head away, mouth in a tight line.

“He didn’t get anywhere near close to doing it. And we weren’t speaking so...” you scold him before he gets needlessly territorial.

“Don’t matter to me, love. Any man that tried to come at ya when I’s away is someone I’m gonna have my eye on, yeah?”

“Then add all the single Jewish men in London to that list.” You roll your eyes and slouch.

“Full of ourselves are we?” He asks with an amused expression.

“No, I mean that literally.” You say with pursed lips. “After I was in the paper and began speaking at places I received so many letters inquiring about courtship. The lines they wrote. Oi vey.” You stick out your tongue to show your distaste and sigh.

“Ya serious?” his brows raise with his inquiry.

“Yes! It was a free for all. They all descended with their flowers and their gifts and letters. Some even showed up to the house but I had Claire shoo them away for poor manners.” you shake your head in annoyance to the thought.

“Fuckin ell” he shakes his head. “And you didn’t reply to none of 'em?”

“Absolutely not.” You Shake your head fast. “I didn’t want them did I?” You tilt your head obviously at him.

He gives you a warm smile before tapping your nose. “You are trying to distract me with sweet words and it innit gonna work pet.” he pouts his lips at you.

“All of those men, I had Niko go with me on three occasions to events so I wouldn’t be bombarded like I was at my first because I was alone. The only other man that spoke to me of having me to my face was Cyrus Horne but you know how bloody disgusting that man is.” You wrinkle your nose.

“Horne? What the fuck did he do? Ya never mentioned no Horne before.” His eyes narrow.

“Because he was being entirely gross and I left the conversation when he tried to tell me he’d have me. And of course, he only had lovely things to say about you.” You roll your eyes.

“He’s dangerous love. If he speaks to you again you tell me, yeah? He’s a crafty bastard and I don’t want 'im anywhere near you.”

“Understood. I don’t want him near me either. He gives me a headache and nausea. He’s entirely awful.” your face a clear show of your distaste for the man.

“Entirely.” He says seriously. “Now what of the lad Niko? I need to know where we stand.”

“He told me I didn’t need you that I should be with him, all that sort of shite. I told him I never lied to him... and I did not. I was very clear and said I was not looking to be with anyone. But he seemed to take it personally when I told him. He thought I’d lied about being with you while I went out with him. And not “went out” You know what I mean. But why on earth would I go somewhere with him while with you? Makes no sense.” your voice shoots upward in your irritation.

“Seems the apple don't fall far from the tree in 'at family. Perhaps he’s not as level headed as he appeared.” his voice lower and more thoughtful.

“I’m disappointed in myself for not seeing it. But he behaved himself entirely when we went out. His behavior was very surprising to me tonight.” You enthuse. “I got a little carried away yelling at him but the thought of him trying to shoot you over me just made my blood boil something fierce.” your lips tense and your head shakes quickly.

“You were wild. I saw it in your eyes.” He nods.

“I won’t stand by while someone tries to hurt you darling. I won’t.” You say, taking his hands I to yours.

“And I you love. Believe me. If they’d pulled the gun on you instead we’d be knee deep in dead fuckin' Greeks.” He says with a quirk of his brow.

“So you see why I was so volatile. His words beforehand caught me off guard, but I’ll be damned if I don’t see a bastard twitch and try to draw.”

“I believe the reaction to not be past what was warranted. A bit strong from the get but...” he shrugs. “This is you we’re talking about. Raw heart you are.”

“The only way I know. Either open totally and exposed or closed entirely.”

“Ya okay now? Not goin' to have any spells of residual hysteria?” He asks, rubbing his hand across your cheek.

“The screaming and crying helped get it all out.” You nod. “I feel oddly calm for what happened back there.”

“Good.” He kisses your forehead. “Then might I say you were bloody brilliant out there?” He gives you a soft smile. “Better actin' than what he saw in Paris, that.” He grins.

“I have a flair for the dramatic.” you give a soft smile.

“I bloody know!” He chuckles. "At first I didn't' care that much for it, but then I saw it weren't comin' from a place of demandin' attention like a child. You are just naturally... big." he gestures with his hands. "A lot of heart to contain in such a small body." he says with an affectionate nod.

"It comes in handy in situations like these."

"And we will need it again." he nods. "Seems as though you being off the market has gathered more unwanted attention than I anticipated. I had assumed there would be other's in the life that wouldn't be happy about us."

"I was prepared for it as well," you say quietly. "Or I thought I was. I'll be raising my guard now." you say with a harder expression. "I've had to soften myself to allow the expression and acceptance of love. But I will need to work on separating the two."

"It is an unfortunate reality for us." he says in agreement. "Those that didn't care for me before, they certainly aren't gonna like that I'm with a woman like you." his lips purse and he looks out into the warehouse and sighs.

"A woman like me?"

"You have your money and power and skills. You have a name that can be used to influence and penetrate in places a man like me can't. You have the community on your side, and having a people behind you in a dangerous thing for your enemies. Especially when we share the same heritage, religion. It all forms strong bonds and if things were to happen to you, people would demand answers. You can't so easily be discarded."

"Ruling with love and fear." you say with a slow nod.

"Precisely. You are the love, I am the fear. And with that combination, we are a threat. Outside of the most basic instincts of men of jealousy. Which I will be happy to address alone, believe me." he raises his brows, the possessiveness he feels for you coming over his face. "Any bloke what thinks he can take you from me will be met with retaliation, darling. And it will be fuckin' heavy-handed." his voice dips lower, his nature to be dominant showing.

"We will now have the same shared enemies, Alfie. I will protect myself as well as you. People will try to tear us apart. You know this." you whisper, leaning in close.

"I do, love. I do." he nods solemnly. "It is nothin' I ain't already pondered." he sighs.

"But we are smarter. Stronger than they are together. They only know one way. The way of violence and fear. We have love. We have something more than they do. We have a women's intuition and the thousands of years of our ancestors surviving despite the odds. We have more than greed and lust to fuel us, things deeper than they understand." you speak with such certainty that he smiles and brushes his hand across your cheek. "As long as we have each other we'll never be defeated." you whisper, placing your hand over his on your cheek.

Ollie knocks before he enters, another poke of his head into the room to see you being so surprisingly tender with each other. He was warmed by it, Alfie was much easier to work with when he had you in his life. "The police have left. I'll have the boys clean up the mess then?" he asks.

"Yeah, mate, of course." Alfie nods and turns his face towards him.

"Should I call the car for you?" he inquires.

"Yeah, call it on up. I believe we've had enough for the night." he turns to face you. "'Aven't we love?"

"Certainly." you agree.

Ollie leaves with a polite bow out of the room.

"Let's go home, Genevieve." Alfie sighs out, kissing you softly on the lips.

"We can celebrate by doing the one thing all our enemies can't." you suggest sweetly.

"What's'at?" he asks with an amused purse of his lips.

"Be happy." you say with an almost childlike smile beaming at him.

"Then we shall do exactly that." he nods and stands, holding out his hand to help you up. "And allow me to indulge in workin' out me anger for what unplanned events went down tonight in ways that would make the offender weep." he lets out a dark chuckle, pulling you to his chest.

"Oh yes." you let out a girlish laugh at his flirting, his hand sliding down to cup your bum. "You are welcome to remind me how I am yours." you purr with a cheeky wrinkle of your nose. "And I insist you be heavy-handed." your voice dips low and you share a laugh that ends with a content hum against each other's lips.

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

Text

Choking On Sapphires 60

Title & Song: It Must Be Love

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 5900+

Summary: Genevieve and Alfie escape the oppressive schedule and work of London for a holiday in Paris. The free time does them both good, as they find themselves both lamenting about each other and considering how their time would be best spent in Paris. They say Paris is for lovers...and it certainly would seem so.

Warnings/Tags: Language. FLUFF. Gen getting embarrassed. Memories. Alfie being a grump but trying not to be for Gen’s sake. Paris!

**Chapter song is It Must Be Love by Madness**

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

It took plenty of planning and patience but surely with its practice you would be rewarded. You pack your trunks, you call your uncle Altar to let him know you’re coming to Paris and to send some of his workers over to your place. You’d have a driver, a cook and a maid to take care of you both during your stay. You take a boat first class, then a train of the same and arrive in your old home of Paris. Alfie tried to contain his complaints for he didn’t care much to travel but he knew it was important to you and he thinks of it as paying his dues before being rewarded once you reach your destination. By the time you're exiting the train, a cart with your trunks behind you, you're both feeling rather tired and grumpy.

"Oh there he is!" you say with relief as you pick up your pace to a boy that had driven you around last time in front of a town car of your Uncle's. Alfie is looking at his pocket watch and only half paying attention, just keeping his eye on you, following you as you moved like a frightened pheasant through the group of people. "Benji! Bonjour! Bonjour cher!" you say with matching kisses to his young and angular face. Benji was an errand boy for your Uncle, a strong and stout thing despite his baby face.

"Hello Lil- uh, Genevieve." he corrects himself with a laugh.

"This would be my dashing companion Mr. Alfie Solomons who will be joining me on this holiday." you say placing a hand on Alfie's shoulder to give him a supportive rub.

"'Ello lad. Benji, was it?" he gruffs out.

"Yes, sir." he says with a nod and polite smile. "We have your apartment warmed and stocked Genevieve. I'll put your luggage away, there are refreshments in the car." he says quickly before moving to your trunks.

You and Alfie take off your coats and sit inside the vehicle, yawns and stretches and bored looks on your faces. You see him watching the boy as he ties things to the roof after filling the back.

"This child is supposed to be lookin' out for ya?" he says with a quirked brow.

"Alfie, shush." you say with a weak pat to his arm. "He's a lot tougher than he looks. He helped me last time I was here. He's a sweetheart so be nice."

"But what if we run into trouble?"

"Then it's you, me and Benji, dear." you roll your eyes. "There are guns under the seat and men stationed outside my apartment. If you would PLEASE just stop being so uptight for a moment, we're here you can breathe now." you say with an exhausted tone and an expression to match.

He lets out a grumpy Hmmph of a sound and sits with his bottom lip tucked under his mustache.

"Where would you like to go first Miss?" Benji calls from the front seat.

"To the apartment, please, I believe we're both in need of a rest after that trip." you say while side eyeing Alfie who returns the same glance to you. ------- Once he sees the nice street you'll be staying on, the men out front, the cautious but friendly doorman, his mind starts to ease. Inside there are two women waiting, both of which you greet with hugs and their first names.

"Would you draw us a bath please, Yoni. Then we'll take tea in the bedroom and have a nap." you say while your coat and gloves are taken.

Alfie's face softens as he sees your apartment, it was hard to remain grumpy in such a light and airy place. The white high walls with elaborate border, the tall and thin windows with billowing curtains from the wind from the balcony made it very pleasant. A view that would be even more stunning come nightfall to be seen from any window he looked. Everything was black, white and grey, all still elaborately decorated with filligree to your tastes, but it made the place feel huge and clean. A wall of heavy framed paintings went up alongside the stairs to the second level. There was a fireplace and a seating area adjacent a tall window, a piano, bookcase, and easel all sat in front of each other just left out of the small entryway. To the right, a kitchen that was concealed from where he stood, a small room he assumed was a bathroom and a dining table in the middle of it all with a chandelier hanging over it draped in crystals. The air is crisp and cool from the open windows, they must have them open to air out the place, he thinks. He stands and takes it all in before feeling you take his hand and tug him towards the stairs.

"Come love, let's wash London off of us and start on a better foot." you say with a subtle smile as he follows you up the stairs after a polite nod of greeting to the women.

You pull him into the tub, both of you enclosed in the marble tomb of the bathroom as your belongings are brought up the stairs. A closed window leaves room for the small fireplace to keep the room cozy. You both sink into the large tub, even larger than your one at home at opposite ends and soak.

With a lighter head and heart, leaving the residue of London behind in the oiled bathwater, Alfie finally speaks without grit in his voice. "Your place is lovely, Gen." he says in a breathy whisper, looking out over the city from above the roof tops of the shops on the streets surrounding you.

"Merci." you smile with closed eyes, head laid back on a folded towel against the lip of the tub, your hair piled on top of your head. "Are you feeling better Fie?" you ask with an indifferent tone.

"Believe so yeah. I hate travelin'." he mumbles, letting his head rest back like yours.

"I'm glad you are willing to sacrifice for me mon Fie." you chuckle.

"Hush." he laughs. "It's hard to leave the work behind innit? When I'm so used to lookin' over me shoulder constantly."

"I understand," you say in a sigh. "But we don't have to here. Breathe in that crisp air and exhale the London fog. We can relax now, Alfie. Let that grumpy exterior fade away. I want to have a happy bear the next few days, not a grumpy one." you say with a sweet tone.

"Happy bear, eh?" he chuckles again. "Since when am I a bear to you? First I'm hearin' of it."

"My big Russian bear," you say in a thick Russian accent. "So big. So strong. Much fur for little woman to stroke." you end the playful words with a giggle and you feel him kick your leg lightly. "What? You don't want to be my big bear?" you grin, lifting your head to find an amused look on his face, your voice back to normal.

"I ain't opposed to being your big bear but your accent is heinous." he lets out a loud laugh and you splash water at him.

------

You crawl in bed to nap, but a nap soon turns into sleep after you wake up and find the night settling in. The bed is comfortable and the fire is warm and the music from the street creates a perfect peaceful ambiance. You whisper and ask if he'd rather stay in, keep warm and rest more and of course he agrees. So your first night in Paris isn't exactly romantic, but a good nights sleep and a tight cuddle with no time limit did more good for you than a night out could have.

The next morning is spent waking up with a good, slow snog that was despertaely needed by both of you. You sigh and moan into one another, hands with simple and firm caresses against each other's warm skin under the soft covers of the white bed sheets. The sunlight pours in from the two tall, lean windows on either side of the bed. No one distrubs you, but the smell of breakfast soon wafts in from downstairs and you both feel the pangs in your stomach.

You both move slowly and relish in the fact that you can. Your eyes stay sleepy for far longer into the morning than they ever did in London. You perched in his lap to eat. He has a traditional English Breakfast and you have a Parisian one. Fresh croissants and brioche from the bakery down the street with butter, jam, and fruit juice. You take your cup of cafe au lait upstairs with you as you go to get ready for the day. He sits and reads the paper, looks over the books on the shelves, the paintings on the walls and takes in the unfinished painting that sat on the easel of the skyline. He eventually makes his way upstairs after being told you were out of the bath and finds you perched in front of a large vanity, with clothes strewn about on the bed. With a kiss to the top of your head beforehand, he worldlessly makes his way into the bathroom. You pick your newest outfit, something you'd been looking forward to wearing that Freddie had sent you. And you were excited as always to push the envelope.

You come out of the bathroom in your new outfit. A fitted shirt, long sleeves, and trousers with wide legs, looking like a skirt almost nipped in at your waist. With a few buttons undone on your shirt, your hair pulled back with bejeweled combs, it was impossible to mistake you for a man but the feeling of wearing pants still gave you a bit of a sway to your step, even in heels.

"You...you wearin' that?" Alfie asks with a cautious tone, looking you up and down.

"Yes, Freddie sent it to me, isn't it wild?" you beam happily, putting on your jewelry in the mirror.

"It is." he nods, brow shifting in thought. "Trousers innit?" he says just to clarify in case his eyes were acting up again.

"Yes. They are so comfortable, my goodness. I'm warm and I can sit however I wish. Jealous you boys get them to yourselves, hardly fair."

Alfie knew he could be a bit old fashioned and being with a woman younger certainly made him more aware of this trait at times but you'd always been so distinctly feminine he never thought about you wearing trousers before.

"You don't like them, do you?" you ask as you turn, twisting your ring on your finger. He sees your bouncing chest with the loose neckline, the hourglass figure of the belted waist and he certainly didn't hate it by any means.

"I dinnit say that now did I?" he shakes his head. "I've never seen you in trousers before." he says with a higher inflection. "I've thought only women who wished to be men wore such things."

"Well now it seems menswear inspired is something many powerful women are embracing. I feel like Marlene Dietrich in these." you grin. "And these are Chanel for christ's sake, it's not as if it's not designer." you say with a hint of defense in your voice.

"I'm not critisizing, love, don't get in a huff." he says with a bowed head and outstretched hands. "It's just a bit of a shock. I've yet to find something you don't look gorgeous in, don't take it as an insult, it's not meant to be. If they make you happy that's what's important innit." he says, taking your hands.

"Yes it is." you give him a nod and side-eye him for a moment, weighing the words to see if they were true. "Good to see you can still be charming," you say in a softer tone, as he rolls his eyes at you as you tease him. You lean in to give him a kiss. "I feel lovely, you look handsome as always so let's go out and have a good day, yes?" you give him another peck.

He knows he's still trying to lose that hard edge, the habit of being miserable and he desperately wants to. He wants to be soft with you, have you swooning again and melting into his arms. So he tries to set the tone that you deserve. He reaches inside himself to pull out the man in love with this fiesty, vivavious beauty that stood before him, remaining herself and polite despite his poor form. It only took a few moments, seeing the shine of your eyes, the bounce of your hair and chest that made the scent of lavender fill his nose.

You see his eyes shift and feel him take a deep breath, you tilt your head up at him. "What is it darling?" you ask with a kind smile.

"You. It's always you innit, my love?' his voice is breathy as his arm wraps around your waist to keep you close, your rest your hands to his chest, caught by surprise at the affection but welcoming it fully.

"Is it?" you answer cheekily with a smile that he matches.

"It is." he whispers, a bejeweled hand moving your cheek. "What is it my little flower wishes to do today, eh?" he asks, thumb gently stroking your cheek.

"Anything with this charming man in front of me." you coo with a wrinkled nose.

"Ah. But she is a charmer herself." he brushes his nose to yours. "I'd love to go see your second home through your eyes today, my pet. Will you show me what you love about this place? Tell me how it molded you so I might understand?" he speaks softly and slowly and you're right back where you'd hoped this trip would put you.

He sees your eyes soften, then flutter as a loving glance is shared between the both of you. "I would love that as well." you repsond softly. "I'd like some basic merriment and money spending, then to go to the Louvre. It's been so long since I've been."

"Than that is what we shall do." he states matter of factly.

"As long as you don't make fun of me for crying at the paintings." you say with a bashful smile.

"I'd never." he says with a winning grin as he presses his plush lips against yours that connect you both back to each in the deep and adoring way that had alluded you in London.

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

You exit your apartment and elect to walk, You were close to so many bustling boulevards and avenue's that it would've been a shame to waste the cool morning air to the inside of a car. You introduce Alfie to the two men who will be shadowing you for the day, knowing it would ease his mind you'd requested them from your Uncle for the duration of your stay.

You stroll like two young pups in love, hand in hand down the streets that were well into being full of life at this point in the day. The smell of bread, meat, and wine move in phases as you pass cafes and shops. The artists and performers doing their song and dance on the sidewalks or arguing over movements in iron backed cafe chairs with passion. It made you feel young and full of dreams again. There was a freedom you felt in Paris you couldn't grasp anywhere else. Here you were always under the protection of your Uncle's last name, you were to be as opinionated and quirky as you wished. You were among artists, and that was where your heart lay.

You move to a quieter street, pointing to the shops and houses of friends and designers you knew from your previous life there. You didn't bore him with specifics but you let him know how much of your time had been spent with these people in these places, elaborating on why fashion meant so much to you. He'd never considered it art before but after your bright eyes and passionate words told him of your studies in fabric and paint alike, he understood how it could be seen as such.

You talking hadn't bored him but now he sat in a boutique, the only man in the place, he kept looking at his pocket watch in between you being dressed and undressed by posh employees. You would spin on a pedastal and ask his opinion and they were all favorable of course. Around the tenth gown, he felt a familiar twitch in his face, the tapping of his toes and he knew he would upset you with feigned interest if he stayed much longer. So on your next reveal, he politely asks to take his leave, stating he'd seen some places he'd like to go as you finished here.

"You can go whenever you like darling. Thank you for staying this long, I forget how terribly dull it can be for anyone besides myself when I get caught up in it." you coo with the same air you had on the night of your birthday. Regal and bestowing a blessing on him with your graciousness. "But tell me first, I can't decide between the blue or the red. Which do you prefer?" you ask, a slender finger pointing to two gowns that hung on the wall.

"Why not both, love?" he says with a cheeky grin, kissing your cheek. "C'mere Miss," he says, beckoning a woman closer who had been enthusiastically helping you the entire time. You had an air of money and upper class about you and he couldn't blame her for fishing for a strong sale. "Get this beautiful creature whatever she wishes." he says, laying a stack of bills in her hand. He could hear the mewls and gasps collectively from the women that surrounded him.

"Alfie, darling..." you purr and push your chest together, wrapping your arms around his neck from your raised positition on the platform. "You don't have to do that."

"Nonsense. I'm spoiling you, yeah?" he says with a sarcastic scolding tone. "You can have ya fun here and I'll go spoil meself in that watch shop we passed, eh?" he grins wide.

"You keep throwing around words like spoil along with that money you're going to make a woman accoustomed to such things." you giggle.

"It's been too long since we've lived a little innit? You deserve these lovely things for all the hard work you've been doin'. You need some new things to wear to your speeches and your fundraisers now, yeah? Can't have a rare jewel like you wearin' what everyone else is, can we?" he says with a charming inflection to his complimentry words.

"What a sweet talker the Paris air has brought out in you Mr. Solomons." you purr and pout.

"Or perhaps it's only you, sweetheart." he says with that same smile that still made your knees knock when directed at you, just as it had almost a year ago now.

------

He drops off his watch to be polished and cleaned, wandering into a jewelry shop with you in mind as it seems in customary in Paris for him to do now. Last time it was a bee that would've bankrupted an ordinary man. What would it be this time, he wondered? He walks slowly across the rows of glass cases, considering each piece with a poetic sentiment to tell you behind it. He recalls the night he gave you that bee. He was just as intoxicated by the look of revealing a gift to you as he always had been.

He remembers how you were just recovered from being attacked, just walking upright again. He remembers your delicate and slender neck as his fingers grazed the previously untouched skin. What a little kitten you'd been at that time, so soft and fragile while you'd healed. When he'd seen how resilient you were after the attack, staying strong and getting your house in order before finally letting your facade drop in front of him, he wonders if perhaps it was then he started to think of you as a prospect for a partner. He'd never seen a woman handle a situation like that the way you did. He knew a sound mind was required in his line of work and that in order to not feel like he was babysitting, his lovelife required a woman of such distinction. He scratches his beard and wonders if he'd already known he'd cared about you to such a degree. He'd bought the necklace to help cheer you up, a gift to celebrate a job well done with Abielle but, that wasn't it entirely was it. A striking, one of a kind woman deserved things of the same description and he aimed to give those to you if he could.

His eyes move over the lovely but common pieces. He should get something to signify your time spent here together. That would be appropriate, he thinks. He hadn't been neglectful exactly but he certainly felt he should be spending more time with you than he was. Especially with how early it was in your courtship. He was lucky you were so understanding and empathetic to his situation as women before quickly grew tired of canceled plans. He knew buying something was a mere patch on a situation but he knew you liked to feel special and giving you gifts certainly seemed to make you happy. And that was ultimately what being with someone was about wasn't it? Trying to work to keep each other happy. You held up your end of the deal, being understanding and not demanding things of him. All you'd really asked was for him to go on holiday with you and it wasn't as if this was a punishment of some sort for him. He knew he needed to make up for lost time, yet again.

With you on his mind, the sapphires catch his eye. At first, he considers a necklace. Perfectly reasonable gift, something that draws attention to his two favorite girls besides yourself. But his lips purse when he realizes that it wasn't just his attention that would be drawn to them. He huffs noisily out of his nostrils, shaking his head in reconsideration. Bracelet's perhaps, he ponders the shiny circles of gems. Allowing himself to get nostalgic as more memories come to mind. The one forming currently was the night he'd taken you to the opera. What an emotinally stirring night that had been for him. He recalls your dainty wrists drapped in gems over your black opera gloves, how they caught the low light and glinted as you held the viewing spectacles and trembled with emotion. That sinful dream inducing gown you'd worn had haunted him for weeks after. The tears you'd shed for the tragic lovers stole his heart that night. A softness to you he'd never imagined possible. Tears like little diamonds, shimmering as they fell down the planes of your heartbroken face. He must take you to the opera here, he thinks. He'd love to see that vulnerable goddess again. He sees a pair of sapphire earrings in a display. At the ends of round stones set inside diamond circles hang a teardrop shaped stone. Sapphire tears for his emotionally charged enchantress. Tears to wear to serve as a reminder you no longer had to let them fall for love lost's sake. By giving you these tears, he would offer to try with everything he was to not give you cause to shed them yourself. This is the gift to remember Paris with. He informs the jeweler of his decision and waits as they're polished and packaged.

He recalls Claire's warning of you not believing in romance and he feels a fluttering in his stomach. A subtle smile appears on his face, thinking of how he'd somehow, despite all his glaring faults had managed to capture the heart of a divine being like you. He hopes one day he can ask you how he did it, a question for a day after confessions of love he imagines. And what of that, he considers, his brow furrowing. He'd known he was a lost cause when it came to you for some time now, perhaps the first time he met with you he'd known somehow. Perhaps he'd only wanted it to be true then but as the rings in the case catch his attention, he can't help but wonder when he would tell you how he truly felt. He'd expressed plenty of things of magnitude to you and none of them were said casually. But the utterance of I love you was something that was supposed to be special wasn't it? Something you made time to discuss properly since it was only second on the list of heavy things you must face with someone. It sat between children and marriage and none of these things he took lightly. Besides his mother, there was only one girl, long before the war that he'd ever said such a thing to. But unlike then he was certain in more things in his life than he ever had been and you were at the top of that list. The rings sit and taunt him. Calling him a coward, they glint with winks that dare him to do what he should admit he's known for a long time that he wanted to. They sing for him like sirens to allow himself to be swept away in it, to feel the love that you do in this city and to give you what you deserved and he craved Honesty and stability. They mock him to make another purchase for you in Paris. ------- You call to Benji who was sitting in a car on the street you were at. Under the instruction of Altar, he wasn't to be too far from you at any given time. He wasn't going to let something happen to his darling niece while she was on holiday. You have the boxes and bags put into the car, telling him where you were off to so when Alfie emerged he would know where to find you.

You trot into a women's delicate's boutique. Lingerie, leisure, and sleepwear in every soft fabric imaginable greet you as you hear a little bell ding with the closing of a door. You peruse, your fingers light on the sesitive fabrics. You chew your lip and consider what mood you'd like to set for your time here in Paris. You'd brought plenty of silk with you but the thought of new teases was certainly more appealing to you. You wanted to give Alfie something he'd never seen before, you wanted to feel as soft as a breeze and as beautiful as a sunset. Satiney bras laid out over matching tap shorts catch your eye, high side slits with lace hems to match, a different approach to your usual of wearing a skirt for easy access. Perhaps you should take to sleeping in these. They'd certainly be nice for summer. It wasn't as if you got to sleep in the same bed as Alfie that often anyway and you weren't opposed to buying something you'd only plan to wear for this holiday but you didn't know the next time you'd get to come to Paris, so you should just buy things for all seasons now shouldn't you?

A delightfully round woman breaks your train of thought as you hold a sapphire blue slip, a color that resounded time and time again for you and Alfie.

"Bonjour Miss." she says, clasping her hands in front of her as she looks over the piece you're holding.

"Bonjour." you sigh out with a smile.

Surely a smile of a new bride, the pink in your cheeks gives it away the woman thinks. "Visiting Paris for your honeymoon? Or picking out something for the husband?" she says with a playful chuckle.

You consider correcting her for a moment, opening your mouth to correct her but instead you find yourself displaced in time. Why bother to correct her? Perhaps one day you'd be back here, married and looking for something just the same. Except perhaps you'd be looking at the pieces in white. "We're here on holiday, yes." you say with a bright smile. "My ring is being seen to where he orignally bought it here." you start fabricating a story so quickly giving you a thrill you hadn't felt since your party days of lying and stealing from aristocrats.

"Oh lovely," she says with a nod, pointing to the pice. "How long have you been married Mrs.?" she inquires.

"Solomons. Mrs. Solomons." you say and a rather child like giddiness comes across your face. "Just over three months now."

"Oh new love," she says with a sweet lilt. "Looking for something to make the holiday special?" she says with a cheeky smile.

"Yes. That and I don't know when I'll be back as we live in London and he's a very busy man, so I'd like some pieces for other occasions as well." you begin. Before you know you know it, she's sizing and fitting you in corsets and you're talking about your wedding day. A chuppah covered in flowers, a dress so long you made a joke about having your siblings have more children just to carry it for you, a ring that could sink a ship it was so big. You carried on in your fantasy and you found yourself happier in it than any other you'd spun off the cuff before. Wouldn't that be lovely? You'd thought to yourself, stealing your own ideas from your fake wedding tales. You get light headed at the thought of walking down the aisle, of him certain and handsome at the end of it. You're own personal Yom Kippur, leaving the old life behind and starting a new one with this new joined soul. It certainly would be a wedding for the ages.

You leave with more bags and boxes to add the collection already in the car. You've stocked yourself up for the incoming warmer months and bought a few things to keep warm in the mild Paris nights. You'd left wearing new undergarments, black lace now sliding across your skin under your menswear inspired outfit. Alfie waits for you by the car, leaning against it and looking intimidating as always. You scamper across the street, hands straining with the handles of bags and his face shifts into softness from the frown as he sees you. Your hair and chest bounced, a shuffle of your heeled feet towards him as you greeted him with a lilt like a little bird, a peck to his lips.

"You've been busy I see." he grins, taking the bags from your hands and putting them in the car as Benji took a load to the other side.

"I have, darling." you can't help but wrap your arms around his neck, riding high on stories you'd spun for the woman in the store. The stories about being-

"Mrs. Solomons!" you hear called out behind you and your eyes go wide.

"You forgot this one. Can't forget this little number," she says with a wink, handing you a wrapped box. "Wouldn't want him missing out on this one." she tries to sell the surprise to your so-called husband. "And this must be the infamous Mr. Solomons. Lovely to put a face to the name, sir." she says with a small, polite bow. "You're very lucky. Your wife is a lovely woman." she says sweetly.

As the woman speaks, you feel the blush rising to your face and the heat of Alfie's taunting glare. You knew the bloody look he'd have on his face, you didn't even have to look. He'd caught you being naughty and now he would be giving you a mixture of a smirk and a grin that would pop the bubble of your fake marriage you'd been so happily living in the past hour or so.

"Yes." he nods, looking down at you, and you still not turning back to him but acting intersted in the box in your hands. "My wife is such a curious little creature isn't she?" he chuckles and you know the deepness of it to be teasing. "Such a vision sometimes I wonder how I did get so lucky, yeah? Sometimes I wonder if she's even real." you could've smacked him if you hadn't been the one being embarassed.

"How wonderful to hear a man speak of his wife in such a way. We should all be so lucky." she says with the purest of intentions. "Have a wonderful holiday, and congratulations on the marriage." she says, bowing out to scurry back to the shop.

You stand without speaking for a few moments, Alfie's face couldn't look more amused. He held in a laugh at the embarrassed look on your face he'd never seen before. Oh, how he wanted to tease you about this, to never let you live it down, as was in his nature. But the mood he was in from the reminiscing and thoughts he'd been contemplating while in the jewelry shop had him realizing another angle, the more touching one.

"And what was that...Mrs. Solomons?" he gets out before snorting out a laugh, he couldn't help it.

You purse your lips and gather yourself, turning back to meet his eyes. "She assumed and I didn't feel the need to correct her."

"Mmm Hmm." he says, voice still full of tease. "Ya didn't, eh?" his laugh turns softer, handing the box off to Benji.

"No." you try to say with confidence and it fails.

"Genny..." he says with a deep voice, putting his hand on your face. "I've never seen you turn so quickly into a beet before." he says with a chuckle.

You shake your head out of his hands and push them down. "She thought I was on my honeymoon." you say with a whine to your voice.

"And are we?" he asks with a charming grin.

"No." you say, a smile now appearing on your face. "We're on holiday. You needed to get my ring fixed where you originally bought it." you start to snicker.

"You back to spinning your lies again? Being in Paris brings out your naughty side, does it?" He knew of your stories of lying, stealing and running cons on people in your youth. He loved the stories and the fact that you could, it was another thing he'd loved knowing you were capable of.

"I started and it just...kept coming." you admit with a bashful laugh. "Perhaps it is the city, making me want to act naughty." you shrug.

"According to her tone, you had intentions on acting naughty with whatever is in that box."

"If you're lucky." you taunt. "Perhaps what I already have on underneath this is naughty as well?" you say, pulling the shirt to the side just slightly, showing a black and lace strap.

"Lying and lingerie look good on you..." he says leaning in and kissing you. "Mrs. Solomons." he grins with a wrinkle of his nose.

"You aren't going to let me live this down are you?" you sigh against his lips.

"Not a fuckin' chance, sweetheart." he laughs and shakes his head.

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