#modern alfie solomons

[look-at-the-soul]

Endless love

(Modern) Tommy Shelby x reader

✨ I wrote this for @justrainandcoffee Alfieversary! My dearest Flor who knew fanfiction and Peaky Blinders would cross our paths! Thank you for always being so kind and generous-and talented!-, becoming mutuals here for a short time and somehow it feels as if we knew each other in person. Cheers to many, many more Alfieversaries!

Summary: Y/N is “forced” to leave her husband and baby for the weekend, so join Tommy to sort parenthood by himself for a couple of days. How will he deal with everything? Including a fussy baby.

Word count: 2.5K

A/N: we know I try to make moodboards right? 🤭

“Okay, erm so there’s milk storage enough.” Y/N mumbled, taking one more look around the bedroom. “Emma’s nappies are in the first drawer, keep her bunny close to-“

“Her face, I know.” Tommy produced a small chuckle, trying hard not to roll his eyes as he had already heard his wife’s instructions for almost a week. “Love, just leave that there, take a deep breath and have a margarita for me, we’ll be fine.”

Looking down at his six-month old he found her big beautiful eyes staring at him.

Y/N blinked nervously, this was the first trip away from Emma, it’s was a natural thing to be nervous.

“I can’t drink a margarita, remember?” She pointed at her breasts for a clearer message. Although she really wanted one.

This was actually her first real going out in a long time, somehow her life had been turned upside down full of baby trips to the doctor’s appointments, quick trips to get the groceries, restless nights of feedings. Thats why when Tommy insisted she should make the trip with Rose and the girls, she thought it would be a good idea to have a little time to herself.

But suddenly, her phone started ringing and loads of messages arrived simultaneously.

“Are you su-“

Tommy cut his wife’s words. “Yes, now go before Rose comes up to take you.”

Y/N gave Tommy a worried look, she couldn’t help it.

“Say goodbye to mama,” he waved Emma’s little hand. “Buh-bye mam!” He imitated a childish voice.

Y/N felt her heart clenching inside her chest when she kissed her daughter’s chubby cheeks.

“If you need anything just call and I’ll be back.” She rushed to say before kissing Tommy’s lips. Stepping out of their home, she blew them a kiss.

Tommy finally felt confident enough to release the air he had been holding. He was beyond nervous for not having his wife around whilst taking care of their baby, he was actually panicking to do anything wrong.

As Tommy closed the door he saw Emma’s lip quiver and a second later, she let out a big cry.

“Oh no, no darling don’t cry.” Tommy tried to soothe her. Small legs kicking with such force that made him think of a small tornado. “It’s alright, mama will be back in a couple of days…” he mumbled tried to get his daughter to settle.

His phone started buzzing in his pocket, he tried to rock Emma, but her cries became louder. Pressing the green button so fast that he didn’t look at the name on the screen.

“‘Lo?”

“Is Emma alright? I heard her crying.”

Tommy gasped. “Yes, of course, it’s the television… there’s a baby crying.” He lied.

He noticed Y/N’s hesitation so he rushed to assure her everything was fine and encouraged her to have a great time with her friends. Then, Tommy searched the channel with calm music Y/N used to rock Emma to sleep, in an attempt to settle his baby.

“How can a little thing like you cry so loud?” Tommy sighed defeated. He was one step from giving up. “I don’t know how your mama does it.”

He had tried everything, absolutely everything. And nothing seemed to work.

Was his baby sick? Hurting?

“What is it baby girl?” He wiped away the tears from her eyes, long lashes wet, chubby cheeks red from the intensity of her cries.

A sudden flashback appeared on his mind and with long strides, he walked into their bedroom hoping to find Emma’s bunny in its place. It had been a birth gift by Rose, and his daughter didn’t seem to like anything else.

“Look… here’s your bunny.” He tried tickling her cheeks. “And let’s take Mummy’s blanket alright?”

Tommy felt on the brick of desperation, was he really a useless father? One who couldn’t make his daughter stop crying?

His heart was aching.

Tommy wondered how would they survive for the entire weekend without Y/N. He started seriously doubting his parental skills in that moment.

Wrapping his baby in Y/N’s blanket seemed to bring some comfort for his baby. Groaning he covered his face with one of the thin cloths they used to go outside, it was small piece that only covered his features partially but then he heard a small giggle and a raspberry from Emma.

Startled, he removed the sheet from his face and looked down at what was making her giggle.

“You liked your silly daddy?” He asked mimicking a ridiculous voice.

He tried the trick once more.

And to his surprise, Emma giggled again, there was a bit of droll on her chin, big blue eyes sparkling just for him.

“You like Mr. Napkin?!” He asked in disbelief. “Yes you do!”

Getting up, he got a larger napkin from the kitchen and after covering his face again, but he added his glasses.

“Mr. Napkin needs help to see.” He repeated what it seemed like the best acting performance ever. “Oh! I see a beautiful happy little girl.” He turned to face his baby laying in one of his arms.

Emma laughed uncontrollably and kicked her legs happily.

“You know what? Mr. Napkin needs a smoke.” He announced, producing a cigarette from its case. But once he added it to his performance, he noticed a small pout. “Oh no, no… that’s a bad habit, don’t do it.”

Once he got his little girl to settle again, he sighed relieved when he saw the big yawn she offered.

“Mr. Napkin would like a nap too.”

But before he could close his eyes, his phone started ringing and the sound woke his daughter up.

“Shit. Alfie what do you want?”

“Just making sure you’re in one piece still… heard the Misus are having the time of their lives.” Alfie announced.

“I know you’re miserable when Rose is away, but I’m busy here mate.”

“That’s exactly why I was calling, to offer some child support.”

Tommy snorted. “Alfie the last thing I want is you taking care of my daughter.”

Alfie didn’t took that personally, he knew as a matter of fact that he had the opposite effect in Tommy’s daughter. “When will you finally admit your daughter likes me?”

“She likes pulling at you beard and your dog.”

“Look we both know you’re going to make the girls come back earlier from their trip and the least thing I need is having Rosie mad at me at your fault, so meet me and Cyril at the beach.”

“That sounds like an awful idea.”

“See ya.”

The actual plan worked like wonders, Emma was thrilled to spend time with Cyril, because being honest, he got all protective over Emma, and despite his size he acted like a cotton ball, bringing her sticks. But Tommy wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

Of course Alfie teased him endlessly for acting over protective towards the baby just because he made sure his daughter wouldn’t suffer damage from the sun. Or any kind of damage for that matter.

“What are cha gonna do when your little pumpkin starts messing around with boys and-“

Tommy gave him a death stare.

“Wha? You can’t keep her locked mate…” Alfie pointed out as the girl grabbed some sand in her small fist.

“That’s not going to happen.” Tommy answered with a clenched jaw.

Just the mere thought of it, made his insides twist.

And to Alfie, to have the chance to tease Tommy it was like the cherry on top, it was something he wasn’t going to let it pass.

By the time they went back to their apartment, Emma was sound asleep in the back seat.

After changing his baby girl into a pajama set, Tommy walked around the place to set the alarm and taking the remote, he turned off the lights.

To his surprise, he got a message from his wife.

Missing you both like crazy! xx

We missed you too, Emma was thrilled to take a little trip to the beach xx - he replied.

Almost immediately, his phone started ringing and the photo of his wife holding their baby appeared on the screen.

“I know I said I wasn’t going to disturb you, but…” her sweet voice made him smile.

“‘S alright, I was just getting ready to sleep.”

“But it’s still early.” Y/N pointed out turning around to look the hour.

“I am exhausted.” He dragged the words.

Turning the call into video, Y/N noticed the bags under his eyes. The dim light cascading over his cheekbones.

“Looks like someone’s having the time of her life.” He complimented.

“We had a massage and I ordered a virgin cocktail.”

Tommy shook his head. “No booze? What’s the fun in that?”

“Stop temping me.” Y/N pouted. “I’ll let you’ve some rest, tomorrow it’s going to be a long day.”

Tommy yawned and wished his wife a good night.

****

A babbling sound make him open his eyes asTommy tried to fix his blurred vision.

Groaning, he got up. “Morning, sunshine.” He kissed the top of her head as he pulled her against his chest and went back to bed.

Instinctively, Emma started nibbling his nipple.

“Oh sweetie, you won’t find anything there.” Tommy explained with a chuckle.

But Emma wasn’t in the mood and a round of loud cries started right away.

“I get it, the milk provider is moving right away, give me a sec.” He got up and carried his baby towards the kitchen, to prepare the bottle for her. A few minutes later, Emma was sucking happily.

“Such a drama queen eh?” He stared at her soft features. Wondering what life had in store for her. “What do you wanna do today? We can go to the park, or the pub bet your uncles would love to see you.” He proposed as his baby was focused on her milk. That way he could get some help because everyone in his family adored his daughter.

Despite his wealth, Y/N refused hiring a nanny. She was adamant to be in charge of everything related to their daughter. And being completely honest with himself, he was grateful for being able to spend quality time with his first born, Y/N deserved all the credit for that, she helped him feel comfortable by giving his daughter a warm bath and helping as much as he could, being a present father.

She had already threatened him to include a hairstyle masterclass so he could learn to do braids and pigtails.

After a quick bath for him and another one for his daughter. He felt proud of managing to put an asthetic outfit for Emma, he actually went safe with clear colors God forbid that one time he changed her into a set that didn’t match, Y/N scolded and teased him endlessly. As Tommy was looking in one of the drawers for a clean sheet so he could place his baby on the floor, he found a small box where Y/N kept a bunch of things she said that were useless but you might need some day. The thought made him chuckle, but a sharp movement opened the lid and its content fell to the floor.

That’s when he saw something that caught his attention.

A playful smile spread on his lips and he rushed to the living room to set everything.

It took him a while to carry on with his idea, but once he was finished, he stood there proudly to admire his creation, the smile on his daughter’s face told him he did a good job. Oh, the things he’d do for that little Miss Sunshine. She had him wrapped around her little finger.

Snapping a photo, he pressed a few buttons to send it to his wife.

“What is that?!” Y/N asked raising her voice, excitement was evident.

Tommy’s chest expanded proudly as he looked at his mini-me in awe. “She’s being giggling nonstop.”

“This is the best idea ever!” Y/N sounded surprised, so he was still able to be one step ahead.

“Cheapest trick to keep her busy.” Tommy added, sending the photo to the Shelby’s chat group.

“I can’t wait to go back home.” He knew being away wasn’t easy for her, specially because she was so attached to Emma.

“The day will fly by and you’ll be back before you know it.” He tried to cheer her up. His eyes darting back to his daughter, still amazed by the balloons.

“Look at you, I leave you for a couple of days and you win the award parent of the year.”

“That’s what you get for abandoning us.” He joked.

“Hey!” Tommy heard Rose’s voice in the background. “Only emergencies! Is Tommy missing an arm?” He heard some weird noise and then she spoke clearly. “I hope you’re taking good care of Emma.”

“Of course.” He wasn’t sure if he should be more scared of his wife or Rose.

“Good, then were stealing your wife for another day and we’re already planning the next trip.” She warned, and this time around, it was Y/N turn in the background saying that she didn’t want to be away from her daughter again.

“Have a fabulous day, I gotta change a stinky nappy.”

Ending the call, he decided to order some food, the last thing on his mind at the moment was to prepare something. At least he got a great deal by keeping his daughter busy with the balloons and that granted him a few minutes to stand outside in the balcony to smoke a cigarette while keeping an eye on his baby.

And the rest of his day went just like that between naps, babbling and the little sounds his daughter made. Later he’d pick a book to read to her.

****

Sunday finally arrived and after driving for a couple of hours, the girls left her by the apartment lobby first, so she made the trip to her floor quietly and since she didn’t tell Tommy what time they were coming back, she took the chance to surprise him.

He didn’t know, but she had been watching him in the baby monitor app on her phone. As a matter of fact her heart felt full last night when she realized her baby wouldn’t settle and after a couple of minutes, she saw Tommy getting up from the bed and climbing the crib -big enough to fit him-, to sleep with his baby.

She knew he was the best father their daughter could have.

And another proof was that moment while he was feeding Emma and he started singing a Romani song and ever so gently he explained their baby he came from gypsies and she too, had gypsy blood running in her veins. Y/N wanted to bottle the two of them along with those moments that made her confirm her deep love for that man.

But Y/N was the surprised one when she stepped into her apartment and found Tommy sleeping on the couch with Emma lying on his chest fast asleep, his arm wrapped around her back protectively. Her small hand closed in a tight fist over her bunny’s ear.

The image was instantly tattooed in her heart as a lifetime memory.

And she knew, her heart was full and that this was an endless love.

Master list

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, remember your feedback is always the way to a writer’s heart ♥️✨

Oh! I almost forgot.. Mr Napkin inspiration 👇🏻👇🏻

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @onlydeadcells @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989 @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood

[potter-solomons]

Alfie.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Not One of Many Masterlist

Series’ cast of characters (Face claims)

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight & Epilogue

[scorpiussage]

I have a lot of thoughts about what a menace modern!Alfie would be 

He demands all meetings take place in either a Denny’s parking lot or in a Taco Bell bathroom, he’s kind enough to let his business associates decide which. He shows up dressed in the most horrendously gaudy track suits and if the person chooses Taco Bell, he also shows up 15 mins late to the meeting toting a giant cup of Baja Blast. 

The ringtone on his phone whenever Tommy calls him is Womanizer by Britney Spears. 

Ollie’s is Baby Shark. 

He still calls his distillery a bakery even in modern times. He’s also famous on MySpace and he has a fuck ton of OnlyFans subscribers. One time someone asked if he was on Facebook and he shot that man in the face. 

I just know in my heart that modern!Alfie would be the most chaotic person possible. 

[ryuzakemo128]

Four Horsemen

Chapter Four: The Mystery of Love, Life and Everything in between.

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Red (Female Reader)

Genre: Modern, sci-fi, fantasy, fluff, mystery

Masterlist: Link

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Alfie can't stop thinking about Red, something about her is alluring and enchanting every moment he thinks about her. He couldn't exactly explain why.

(Alfie Solomon's Point of View)

I walked the lively streets of London, my thoughts consumed by Red. There was something undeniably captivating about her that drew me in, an enchantment that defied explanation.

Red's past as a former FSB operative only deepened her allure. The secrets she held and the shadows she had traversed fascinated me. As a Jewish man, I understood the complexities of identity and the weight of hidden truths. Red, however, possessed a strength and resilience that left me in awe.

Since our unexpected encounter, thoughts of her consumed my mind. But the divide between us seemed insurmountable. How could a Jewish man from England and a Heathen woman from Russia bridge the chasm that separated us?

Love, they say, transcends boundaries. It thrives on the differences that exist between two souls. The intricacies of our backgrounds only intensified the fiery connection we shared. There was a chemistry, an irresistible force pulling us together with every interaction. It felt as though destiny itself had conspired to bring us closer, defying the odds stacked against us.

Driven by a yearning to understand, I reached out to my contacts, seeking information about Red. I was eager to delve deeper into the woman who held my heart captive, to unravel the layers of her existence and fathom the depths of her soul. Exploring this connection demanded courage and a willingness to embrace the unknown. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with obstacles and hidden dangers. Yet, the allure of love and the desire to uncover the mysteries within Red's being were too potent to resist.

As I delved into my investigation, I couldn't help but ponder the secrets that awaited me. What had Red experienced during her time as an FSB operative? How had she navigated the treacherous world of shadows and intrigue? The answers lay concealed, waiting to be unearthed.

With every passing moment, my longing for Red intensified. I yearned to unravel the enigma she embodied, to comprehend the intricacies that shaped her essence. The more I searched for more information about her past, the less information I found and the more mysterious she became. Red is a puzzle, a puzzle seemingly unsolvable, a riddle left unanswered. Teasing me with its ever elusive answers kept under lock and key.

I was undeterred. Love has a way of defying reason and conquering obstacles. The quest to understand Red and the connection between us would not be easy, but it was a journey worth taking. For within the mystery lay the potential for a love that transcended boundaries and a bond that defied the odds. And so, I embraced the enigma of Red, ready to unlock the secrets that lay hidden within her, and discover the truth that awaited us both.

[justrainandcoffee]

Bonita (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc)

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

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

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

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

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

"I feel bonita, yes."

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

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

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

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

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

Alfie x Rose masterlist

[whentommymetalfie]

Update: Chapter 13 is up

Tommy is not sure how he’s ended up here. On the surface it appears like a dream, the penthouse in Soho, the successful husband who never misses an opportunity to spoil him, a life full of expensive dinners and parties. But beneath the glimmering surface lies a darkness unlike anything else.

One late night in an overcrowded ER, he meets someone who finally sees him. And from that moment on, something changes.

Sequel to 'All for Nothing'

Pairings: Established Tommy/Luca, eventual Tommy/Alfie

Warnings: Domestic violence, emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, manipulation, eating disorders, suicidal ideation, PTSD

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Bakery Love Story Headcanons w/ Papa Solomons

And a wee bit of a CoD crossover

TH Masterlist

He knows you hate closing shifts, but asks you to work them regardless if he’s on them too.

Truth be told, you don’t mind when it’s just you two because you get on surprisingly well in spite of your differences.

Alfie keeps you out of the bakery’s kitchen as much as possible. Partially because he doesn’t want you around the ovens lest you burn yourself. It’s fine for bread to burn, but your skin?

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!

So you stay out front or only venture there to help Alfie carry bread or pastries or prepare sandwiches. Otherwise, you’re in the front as a barista.

He only trusts Ollie with your company.

Takes you with him when he goes ingredient shopping. He’ll pick you up at the crack of dawn to go to Borough Market with him.

However, those morning ventures aren’t solely about food. Various recent reviews have mentioned the wee bouquets dotted around the place, which has helped increase business. So he also needs your help with choosing this week’s flowers.

Although, it’s better to say they’re your responsibility since you’re the one who offered the golden idea. The price tag doesn’t matter, he’ll pay since your word is gospel to him.

He makes you breakfast when you have to open as well. It’s rare for you to work so early in the morning, but if you do it’s with Alfie. He doesn’t mind having to leave the house a little earlier to pick you up. After all, even at dawn and especially during the first hours of a winter morning, London isn’t safe.

What boss lets his female employee take such risk?

That’s the angle Alfie forces himself to take. Yet, despite the effort and struggle he hides because of it, it’s not a perspective he can maintain. Henceforth, he often finds himself following the train of thought he can’t shake off.

What king puts his queen in danger? What absolutely fucking sodden bastard leaves his girl to her own devices amongst predators and shadows?

NOT the King of Camden.

He likes how you hum or quietly sing along to Ed Sheeran’s songs. Alfie absolutely still doesn’t like the style nor genre, but he does if it’s you providing the vocals. In fact, he likes it so much he occasionally catches himself blatantly staring at you, utterly mesmerized by your presence.

Regardless of whether you’ve had your allotted breaks, as soon as he notices a dip in your energy, he’ll kindly coerce you to take one. Alfie especially likes the ones when it’s you two leaning against the counter, observing the customers while having a cuppa.

And the customers like to keep an eye on you two as well. The latest hot gossip is all about “the bird and the King” and how “there’ll perhaps be a gentler reign of the borough”.

Maybe there will be. Alfie tries to reign himself in when he’s around you, finds serenity in the feeling of your hand on his shoulder to signal to pipe down or let you take over lest things get out of control.

Lately he’s been into hugs. Like, he’ll pick you up and the first thing your groggy head has to deal with is a bear hug and sometimes being lifted into the air.

He can’t stop replaying the moment you compared hands. Can’t stop thinking about the confirmation of the size difference between you, yours much smaller than his. Ever since, Alfie sometimes allows to indulge himself by holding hands.

Out of sight of the other men, of course! Can’t have them tattering on like elderly ladies during afternoon high tea.

But his dreaming always gets rudely interrupted when a particular customer comes in. It doesn’t take long for Alfie to figure out who the stranger is because he needs “to know who comes in and out of me bloody kingdom” and the King has plenty of ears in the streets. So it doesn’t take long for him to acquire a name and the man’s background.

John Price, a captain in the British Army who went through enough to drive any man insane. Saw Hell itself.

Damaged beyond repair like him.

Yet a good man who’s trying to court his secret favourite dove.

A good man who can offer her more than an old gang boss can.

Nonetheless, there’s the toxic burn of jealousy mixed with seething rage whenever he sees you two talk. Sees how well you get along.

Alfie has to force himself to walk away, to rampage in the background among the men when he sees how Price makes you smile and blush. Fortunately, there’s soundproofing in the building. Otherwise, the customers and you would find out his anger is even more white hot than the ovens.

And he reaches the boiling point more often from the day the captain’s cologne becomes more noticeable on you. It’s an unfair trigger to pull on an honourable man. Or so he keeps grumbling and effin and blindin about despite knowing better.

Despite knowing he’s simply too late.

He hates how you’re inconsolable when John’s sent out on a mission. Doesn’t matter how long or short it is.

Now, the King of Camden is a master when it comes to the art of masks so the front you try to put up is nothing but a crumbling act to him. Dips in energy, distant gazes, little eating, they’re all tell-tale signs you miss your captain. Nonetheless, being an opportunist, Alfie uses the circumstances to his advantage by cooking and cleaning for you. Sometimes he even stays the night, but only when you ask him to. To others it may sound odd, asking your boss to stay with you, but to you it doesn’t because Alfie isn’t simply your boss.

He’s a very dear friend.

(And your protector, your “guardian fucking golem”)

Alfie doesn’t ask about your dates, but will occasionally indulge you when he notices you’re afraid to talk about them even though you really want to.

“‘Ow was your date?” he asks on such a morning while cleaning up the dishes of your impromptu breakfast. That small moment during which you shared the food he prepared. Those few minutes in which it was just you two. Together.

“It was really nice. We got coffee and walked around Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park for a bit.” As per usual, you don’t dare meet his gaze because you fear your happiness and excitement will wear him down. It’s part of the reason you avoid using John’s name. After all, the badly concealed frown hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“I ‘ope ‘e’s the one who paid.”

“He did.”

“‘E treating you well?”

“Yeah, he does.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“Alfie, alright?”

“Yeah, just… just in me own noggin. You know me. I’m glad you ‘ad a good time. Otherwise I’d ban ‘im from the bakery. The whole fucking borough. ‘E’d be-“

“Thank you.”

Alfie’s surprised you cut him off. Had it been anyone else, they’d likely be face flat on the ground and a wiser person for it, but if it’s you he doesn’t mind. In fact, when the conversation turns towards your love life and John, he’s glad you shut him up. After all, what do you care for his feelings? They’re unreciprocated anyways. “For what?”

“For letting me talk about him. I… I got the impression you didn’t want me to.”

“You let me talk about whatever, so why wouldn’t I return the favour? But enough chit chat. Come on, we got work to do.”

If only to forget about the plot he might have for a new Edna Specter novel.

The Tragedy of Alfie Solomons.

The Baker with a broken heart.

Bonus:

Oh gods, imagine Alfie and Price having a stare-off when Alfie picks you up at your place and John stayed the night. To make matters worse, the captain knows about the King’s feelings for you.🙀

P.S: I’m sorry, but I have to include more Barry Sloane because this man has me in an ABSOLUTE CHOKEHOLD🥵😻

Tag list: @zablife @vir-tual @dreamlandcreations @rose-like-the-phoenix @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @liliac-dreamer @mollybegger-blog @hoodeddreams13 @babaohhhriley

[hb-writes]

Ages ago, I (hand)wrote a little Modern!Alfie x Nameless OC/ Reader story and even made this little mood board for it, but then I misplaced what I had written so never came back to it. Anyway, I did just find the pages I'd written and thought I'd share the board because what I've written is actually not half bad so I may share it at one point.

[look-at-the-soul]

Cia!!! Thank you so much for always providing inspiration via your gifs!! I hope you like this 🤭 it’s been on my mind for a while hile…

He should’ve paid attention

Tommy Shelby x reader (and Alfie Solomons)

Opening the door of his office, Tommy sighed loudly, it had been a long meeting and he had been worried his wife would storm in any minute, demanding him to stop whatever business he was planning to do.

Speaking of which, his wife was nowhere to be seen.

And that was the perfect reason to worry, because she was the one who knew these fucking people, he recognized a face or two, but to be honest he would never understand what was the purpose to throw a party like this for their daughter’s christening. In his opinion it should be something small but he had nothing to do with the planning of such event, so he really didn’t have a thing to say.

A maid almost spilled the drinks on a guest.

As he moved across the people, he gave Johnny Dogs a disapproving eye side look, catching him and a maid coming out from the coat closet, Arthur was rolling up his sleeves already, he just hoped his brother wouldn’t start a fight in that moment. Polly and Ada were chatting in a corner, sipping his expensive champagne.

And if Y/N wasn’t with them, then he didn’t know where else to look for her.

The group of people before him suddenly moved backwards, like making a human wall, revealing Y/N standing over there facing him, but looking directly at another man he first didn’t recognize because he had his back at him.

Time stopped when his wife placed her hand on the man’s arm and laughed freely, then he saw his baby girl squirming in that man’s arms and he felt his blood boiling, in a few long strides he reached his wife, finally seeing that man’s face… finding Alfie holding his daughter.

It took him a couple of seconds to process what was happening.

“Alfie what are you doing here?”

“Oh, hello mate, I was just telling your lovely wife she has a great taste, she added a home-like touch to this place, didn’t she?” Alfie looked up at the eye-catching chandelier above them, the place exuded luxury.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” This was a family gathering and Alfie certainly attracted a lot of attention.

“Well, darling… you know how I just couldn’t stay away from eating those biscuits while I was pregnant, so I asked Frances to track down the bakery that made them, and it turned out to be Alfie’s.” She wrapped her hand around his arm and gave him that look he knew so damn well, the one that said she was about to get things done her way. “So I thought how Mr. Solomons has been so helpful to your business and I decided to ask him and his wife Edna to be our Sophie’s Godfather and Godmother.”

Tommy stopped listening in that moment, he felt like he was underwater, words were said in slow motion and he wasn’t able to keep up.

He looked at his wife, waiting for the moment she would say she was only joking. But that didn’t happen.

The collar of his tuxedo seemed tighter suddenly.

From all of the people…

“Look at that face, I told you he wouldn’t agree.” Alfie shook his head while hitting him slightly on the shoulder with his cane.

“Well he told me to take care of everything.” Y/N defended her choice. “I asked him who did he want and he said…”

“Whoever you choose is right, but you forgot to mention your options love.” Tommy tried to remain calm, having Alfie as part of his closest circle wasn’t his cup of tea.

“He never listens to me.” Y/N explained to Alfie, brushing Tommy off.

“I know, I keep saying him the same thing.” Alfie agreed.

“Why are you two talking like I’m not here?” He took his sleepy daughter from Alfie’s arms. “You probably should have mention this earlier, don’t you think?”

Y/N shuddered. “You barely pay any attention to anything I say anyways.”

Tommy tilted his head, feeling the veins in his temple pulsing.

“Why don’t you calm down mate?” Alfie proposed. “Have some air.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“What’s the big deal? You’re friends, Alfie is a great baker, he’s funny….” Y/N had a long list of tributes but she decided to keep it short judging by the look Tommy gave her.

Alfie took the child from his arms and gave the bundle to her mother, to then pat Tommy on the shoulder, keeping his voice down.

“Look mate, if anything happens to you, I’ll look after your child, hmm? Uncle Alfie to the rescue.”

Tommy groaned. The only worse thing that could happen to him apart from doing business with Alfie Solomons was having him as the Godfather of his daughter.

But it was too fucking late to try to do something now.

Next time his wife asked his opinion, he would pay attention…

****

Blurbs

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

@raincoffeeandfandoms I tagged you Flor for Alfie 🤭

[potter-solomons]

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Happy Hanukkah-Mas! - A Beth and Alfie Solomons One Shot Story.

They're baaaack! I absolutely adored returning to their world for a little one-off treat, guys, and hope you all love catching up with them again, too. Enjoy :)

Words - 7,478

Warnings - Fluff and smut, lots of it! Minors DNI!

There is much as a mother that I feel my arm in perpetual twist over, my emotions stirred by the large, slate blue eyes of my son, Abe and my daughter, Flora. They truly do know how to get around their father and I with such insufferably effective cuteness. The celebration of Christmas in our Jewish household is just one of those arm twisting, big, cute eye pleading moments that I speak of. 

Although my husband and I are very liberal in our faith, not anywhere as stalwart in our Jewishness as generations gone by (heck, even my beloved bubbe has a tiny Christmas tree and Father Christmas themed decorations!) we do enjoy observing the traditions of Hanukkah, especially passing this onto our children. We light the menorah and recite our blessings before taking to the kitchen and getting into a god-almighty mess while preparing the latkes and jellied doughnuts.  

Let it be known here that Bethany Solomons and deep frying do not exactly go hand in hand.  

Up until their respective ages of five and two, the children seemed perfectly content to revel in our deep frying, dreidel playing, menorah lighting and song singing traditions. That was until these tiny souls began noticing the traditions of their friends slightly differed from ours. Suddenly, there was talk of turkey and tinsel, of baubles and a large, fresh scented tree. Father Christmas was a name that began to be spoken more freely.  

In fact, it was Flora who changed the tides there while scrambling onto her daddy’s lap one evening when she was two, tiny hands fiddling with his beard as she went through her nightly routine of ‘let’s ask daddy as many questions as humanely possible’ where one particularly struck my husband in a direct hit to the heartstrings.  

“Daddy, Father Christmas doesn’t come to our house. Is that because we’re bad children? We’re on the naughty list, aren’t we?” 

To watch him sit there, his eyes glassing as he tried not to allow for his emotions to be so heavily stirred by our youngest was something I could not endure without shoving my nose into a nearby magazine in order to hide my own tears.  

“Nah, my little peach,” he’d eventually offered, after swallowing a lump in his throat he likened to the size of Cyril, our beloved sixty-kilogram bullmastiff. “It’s just that we believe different traditions, innit? You’re only on the naughty list when you’re running around here covered in chocolate and refusing to get in the bath, ain’t ya?” 

He’d then tickled her into submission, or so he’d thought. Flora, just like the man whose lap she was sat upon at the time, is nothing short of persistent in the pursuit of achieving an end goal. After Abe had returned home from his karate class, he too joined in.  

Never let it be said that my offspring cannot work as an effective emotional tag team. Our first Christmas tree was purchased the following afternoon. Cyril duly lifted his leg to it. Alfie was incensed. The children scream laughed. All was well, if not a little soggy.  

Happy Hanukkah-Mas, everyone! 

Taking a pause from typing, Beth reached for her wine, the kitchen quiet and fresh smelling after her efforts in deep cleaning had left everywhere sparkling. It was that time of year again, where the Solomons clan began their dual holiday festivities, the nine days of their Hanukkah coming to a close, ready to pave the way for all things Christmas. 

“No peeing up the tree this year, matey.” she spoke, her hand reaching for the soft crinkles of Cyril’s muzzle, her faithful old companion sniffing her fingers as she offered him fuss. She could barely believe he was twelve, an age almost unheard of for a bullmastiff to reach.  

The giant dog now lived a much more leisurely pace, long walks replaced now by a little trot around the block, the dog returning to lie himself in the middle of the welcome hall and huff about it for a good ten minutes before he’d wander off, usually in search of the children.  

If Cyril’s heart beat for anything other than a good marrow bone from the butchers, it was Abe and Flora. Beth honestly feared for the day they would come to lose him, knowing the devastation that would befall the family to be bereft of their longtime canine companion. He was more than that to them, though.  

Cyril Solomons always was, and always would be their first child. 

“Where’s your dad?” she asked, the dog’s ears pricking as he heaved himself up, ambling out of the kitchen and down to the office, Beth pushing the glass door open.  

“Evening, baby beast.” No, Alfie had never ceased use of the same pet name for her that he’d coined nine years previously, back when they’d first gotten together. “How’s the article going? Nearly done, yeah?” 

She half shrugged with a hum. “About halfway through. I’m bloody knackered, though, so I’ve come to steal you. My tummy is rumbling.” Moving around the desk, she placed her wine down, seating herself in his lap. “What’s with these? These Solomons crinkles you have going on here?” 

Her finger was playfully batted away, her hulking bear of a husband laughing gruffly. “You and your bloody cheek,” he began, kissing her head. “Them lines are the Abe and Flora crinkles these days, them and their fuckin’ demands. Look at this ‘ere, right. She can’t just want the doll you can go to Smyths and buy, can she, your daughter. Nah, gotta want the fuckin’ Rolls bleedin’ Royce of dolls that daddy ‘ere can’t pissing find in stock!” 

He had a penchant for that. When the kids were good, they were their children. When they were causing him mild to moderate strife, they were solely Beth’s.  

Looking at the screen, she shook her head, reaching for the mousse and closing the browser window. “I found it already, it’s on the way from a store in New York. DHL have assured me it’ll arrive by the eighteenth.”  

“Well then why didn’t you fuckin’ tell me, Bethany with the lovely legs? Lovely legs that are gonna catch a right walloping. Sitting here for hours, I’ve been, looking for that fuckin’ doll!” 

“I did!” she exclaimed, slapping his hand as he began laying smacks against her thigh. 

“Fuckin’ lies!” 

Leaning in close, she widened her doe eyes, her nose touching his. “I bloody did! Magda will back me up, she was standing right next to me when I told you.” 

Her playful growl was met by muttering and grumbling. “Moody sod.” 

“Yeah, but you love me, treacle,” he chirped, Beth leaning to kiss his cheek.  

“That I do. Now, come on. I meant it when I said my tummy was rumbling, so you need to emerge.” Picking up her wine, she slid back to her feet, Alfie wheeling his chair closer to the desk once more.  

“I’ve just got one email I need to...” 

“Alfie,” she warned. 

“Five minutes, darlin’. You go order the food. Get us a chicken madras, a keema naan and all the dippy stuff with the poppadom's. Go on, go be a crackin’ wife and order in all the nosh that’ll have me farting like bagpipes for the next day or so.” 

She threw her head back, her laugh loud. “Five minutes, or I deliberately wake Abe and get him to come in and ask you all about where babies come from.” 

“You bloody dare,” he warned, Beth leaning back around the office door. 

“Don’t try me, boo.” Poking her tongue out, she giggled, heading back into the kitchen and taking a seat once more, putting in their order with the Royal Bengal before tapping away a little more of her article. She’d just closed her laptop when Alfie joined her, pulling a bottle of San Pelegrino from the fridge and splashing it into a glass, adding ice while telling her about his working day.  

Since becoming a father, he’d done what nobody expected and actually relinquished a little control over his empire, allowing those he employed to get stuck in with the lion’s share of the day-to-day operations, in order to be present for his children. Losing his own father so young had made him realise just what he’d missed growing up, now he had little ones of his own.  

The kitchen was soon filled with the aromas of India, Beth adding everything to bowls, Alfie hindering her every step of the way, and Cyril hopeful that a few morsels might be dropped upon the floor.  

“It’s nice to be able to have a bowl of samosas out and not have to fight off tiny hands for them,” she mused, picking one up and dunking it into the mint dip.  

“And then only half eating them, storing the fuckin’ things away behind cushions and in shoes an’ all that,” Alfie spoke through a mouthful of poppadom, shaking his head. “Them bloody kids. Wouldn’t have ‘em any other way, though.” 

Neither would she. They were loud and boisterous, but that came with the territory. Seven and four years old meant a perpetual state of noisy. Those noisy states were out of the front door at nine the following morning, both off to their bubbe Solomon’s house for the morning. Beth dropped them with Sarra at just gone half past, leaving her to fight the traffic to head over to Primrose Hill, her breakfast date already there waiting for her.  

“Oh babe!” she cried, opening her arms to Mimi as she rose from the table. “I thought you were bringing the baby? Aww, I was looking forward to a little smush!” 

“No, she barely slept all night, so I’ve left her with Josh and a tonne of expressed milk. Bloody boobs are so sore, and I thought having implants was bad!” Kissing her cheek, Mimi then gestured to the table, a latte waiting for her. “Thought I’d order that in for you. I might be a knackered new mummy, but at least I remembered my erm...” she trailed off, winding her hand around as she thought on the word. “I always want to say my Antoinette, but she was a queen.” 

“Etiquette?” Beth offered, Mimi snapping her fingers. 

“That’s it!” 

Some things never changed.  

“So, how have you been, other than tired with sore boobs? I bloody remember that only too well, Mims,” she spoke, picking up her latte and giving it a cautionary blow before taking her first sip. Ahhh, a double shot. Heaven. How well her beloved Mims knew her.  

“I’ve been alright, you know,” she began, perusing the menu before her. “I mean, a woman can function perfectly well on ten minutes of sleep a night, can’t she?”  

“And if she can’t she gets used to it pretty flipping quick,” Beth quipped, making her decision over breakfast quickly. Pancakes with turkey bacon and eggs. She was famished. “How did your check-up go? Are all the sore bits healing nicely?” 

Both women had suffered quite badly during childbirth, Beth’s experience with Abe something so terrible, she very nearly elected a C-Section for Flora. Her midwife had advised her against such, though, stating a natural birth would be much better when she was fully fit and capable. Flora had been a blessing, thankfully, a speed birth of half an hour in active labour, her little girl out in six pushes.  

Mimi nodded as she sipped her orange juice, setting the tall glass back down. “Everything is healing as it should be, and I should be fine to ride again soon!” She’d kept her beloved horses, Bryn and Sunny, thinking at first that she would put them out on loan for a time to someone with enough of that very commodity to devote to them. That was until her darling friends had stepped in to help, Beth and Kinga appointing themselves as exercisers of Mimi’s four-legged friends.  

Being a much more skilled horsewoman than she had been nine years before upon first meeting Mimi, Bryn and all of his naughtiness was appointed to her, Kinga more novice and being tasked with Sunny’s exercise. They went most days in the afternoon, the people at the stables where they were kept taking on their day-to-day care.  

It was one of Beth’s favourite parts of the day, riding out over the fields after lunch aboard Bryn, or working him over eye wateringly huge fences in the arena, the likes of which she once never thought she’d have the bravery to attempt. 

Mimi had taught her well.  

“Oh, before I forget, give these to Magda before she raises merry hell with me,” Mimi then spoke, picking up a bag from her feet and passing it across to Beth. “She loaned me these for Josh’s office Christmas do. It was such a nice night, made even better for wearing a pair of this season’s Louis Vuitton’s on my feet!” 

Yes, Magda would indeed raise merry hell if any loans from her beloved wardrobe department were not returned promptly. Beth took the bag with a smile, placing it down beside her favourite bag of all time beneath the table, the dark blue Birkin Alfie had bought her all those years ago. She still had to shake her head in wonder sometimes, being a woman of such staggering wealth because of whom she was married to.  

Her world had blended with Alfie’s so effortlessly, it often felt like a dream to her still. There she was, with one of the women he’d once dated, Mimi now a married mother herself and long fully integrated within Beth’s friendship group as well as still being – as Alfie always worded it - ‘the bestest mate a fella could ask for.’ After Josh and her mum, Alfie had been the first she’d called upon finding out she was pregnant with her now eight-week-old daughter, Alissia.  

“How did you cope, being away from Liss for a few hours?” she asked with a smile.  

Mimi looked pained immediately. “I hated it! I missed her so much, and I know she was perfectly fine with Josh’s mum, but it didn’t feel right, not having a little bundle in my arms!”  

She remembered it well with Abe, becoming very emotional on her first night out with Alfie after he’d been born, being left in the care of his godparents, Magda and Dennis. Magda had switched her phone off in the end, Beth had called so incessantly to make sure he was okay. ‘You’ll bloody wake the little fella if you keep on calling me! He's fast asleep on Dennis’s chest, just threw up a load of milk all over the dog an’ all. Having a wail of time, he is!’ she remembered being assured.  

Moving their discussion on, both pledging they would never be the kind of women who couldn’t form conversation over anything other than their children, they sat and spoke about all sorts while catching up, Beth’s most recent articles, Mimi’s tentative plans to begin her own accounting business so that she could circumvent a return to office life and instead, work from home and be with her baby. With Josh earning so well now within the publishing world, her return to work truly didn’t need to be expedited quickly either.  

After breakfast, they made time to pamper themselves with a little salon treat, Mimi having a much-needed deep cleansing facial while Beth opted for a massage, wanting to be nice and relaxed for what would likely turn into a chaotic afternoon. It was Christmas tree shopping day, meaning that her children would go from their usual volume of eight right up to eight thousand, such was their excitement at the fairly new tradition.  

“Oi! Abraham Solomons, I see you back there, winding your sister up!” Alfie shouted, looking in the rearview mirror of his Range Rover two hours later, en route from his mother’s house to the garden centre.  

“She’s kicking me, dad!” 

“She can’t even reach you over there, mate. Nah, don’t you tell me no fibs, or this car gets turned around, right?”  

“But dad!” 

“Enough, my son!” 

Abe shrank down in his car seat with a scowl that was a hundred percent his father, Beth turning to give him a warning look that eventually turned into a smile. The Solomons crinkles were very much a hereditary thing. “Be a good boy.” she cooed, grabbing his foot and giving it a shake. Flora was asleep after ten minutes, Abe entertaining himself by narrating a commentary about the people they drove past in the streets, pulling up outside Birchen Grove Garden Centre after twenty minutes.  

“Come on, Flora snorer,” Alfie chimed, rousing his sleepy youngest. The noises that came from that child while she was sleeping. Beth had nearly haemorrhaged from laughter when he’d likened the sounds to ‘that geezer from the Police Academy films’ back when she was a baby. “Come on, my little peach. Let’s look lively, yeah?” 

“No daddy, I want naps!” she protested, Beth being dragged to examine a display of Christmas wreaths by a much spritelier Abe. 

“Child, you’d sleep your life away if we left ya to it. Come on, daddy’ll play pack horse and carry ya.”  

“Okay.” Immediately she reached for him, beaming as she buried her face against his neck. He gave it all of three minutes, the shiny bright of the garden centre’s Christmas displays delighting her eyes so much, she was scrambling to the floor and running off with her brother.  

“Breakage expenditures guesstimate?” Beth quipped, raising an eyebrow as they ran for a display in excited frenzy.  

“Bloody zero!” he bellowed, making a lady walking past him jump. “Go on, get over there and round up ya kids, duchess. I’ll go sort the tree.”  

She rolled her eyes. “Always my kids when they’re being disruptive.” She strode off, not before Alfie aimed a perfect smack to her bum, calling her little ones away from the glass baubles and trinkets, grabbing a basket on her way. She sensed more ornaments would be chosen, and she wasn’t wrong. At least they kept on brand with the theme of green, blue and silver, though.  

“Abraham!” Alfie barked, appearing with a Christmas tree over his shoulder a short time later, finding his son meddling with the nativity display. “Put the false prophet down, son.”  

Beth cringed, shielding her eyes for a moment beneath her hand as her husband drew disapproving stares, Abe unceremoniously returning to the baby Jesus doll back into the manger with all the passion of LeBron James performing a slam dunk.  

“Do you have to be so vociferously Jewish in your denouncing of the Christian lord and saviour?” she hissed, Alfie beaming. 

“Yeah, darlin’,” he laughed, scratching his beard with his free hand. “I bloody do!” 

Herding the children in the direction of the sales desk, she offered appeasing smiles to those offended by her husband and his boom. “Oy fucking vey.” 

Once the tree had been affixed to the roof, the children and purchases packed away, the family Solomons headed to lunch, the little ones making their demands known for a trip to Five Guys. Burgers often worked very well in placation, especially since Beth had designs on dragging her family to do a little bit of shopping afterwards. Kids with full tummies were often slowed down a tad by the weight of their meal.  

While Alfie was having his ear and wallet bended by two very enthusiastic children at the Hotel Chocolat shop, Beth moved down through the shopping mall a little, coming to a small nostalgia store. Since celebrating Christmas was mostly for the children’s benefit, she and Alfie didn’t exchange gifts for one another, but what she saw in the window swiftly negated that.  

“I’ll take them both, please.” she spoke to the sales assistant, hardly able to keep her giggles in as she watched him retrieve the two Ren and Stimpy plush toys from the window display. She would never forget how hard she had laughed all those years ago, when she and Alfie had gotten stoned together one evening, back when the lines between journalist and subject were becoming blurred.  

“Do you mean Ren, as in Ren and Stimpy?” 

“Yeah, the little angry weasel, or whatever he was.” 

The little angry weasel. The memory still brought her the same feelings of hilarity as they’d shared out in the garden of their home, when they were just beginning to fall for one another. She remembered it well, how she’d sat there with him, smoking weed while inwardly lamenting how unfair it was, to have met her perfect person, but with a very imperfect set of terms and conditions that went hand in hand with dating him.  

She couldn’t imagine her life now, should Alfie not have changed his mind. It often made her feel a pit in her stomach, if she thought on it for too long, being driven out of his life in that Uber, Alfie remaining with someone as deadly as Amira had proved herself to eventually be. Thankfully, the unhinged woman who had almost killed her remained languishing within a prison cell to that day.  

Yes, Beth kept tabs on her, just in case she had qualified for parole ahead of the recommended ten years post-sentencing. She couldn’t not now she was a mother, something within not trusting that her long custodial sentence would change her feelings towards her; or pose a risk to the safety of her children upon her release.  

Shaking the less warming thoughts of their past from her mind, she paid for her purchase and left the shop, popping into the Elemis store quickly to repurchase her skincare goodies, before she was met by her husband and two chocolate wielding children.  

The drive home was uneventful, the kids once again on excited mode as soon as they stepped foot into the house, hurling themselves at the many boxes Beth had brought up from the wine cellar the night before containing the Christmas decorations. With the tree placed into the stand, protective netting cut and two shrieking children armed with ornaments, Alfie stood back and watched the scene for a few moments, grinning adoringly at his little family.  

“Let me go and get a few work things done so I ain’t worrying about ‘em all weekend,” he spoke, giving her a little nod. “I’ll fetch you a Merlot on me way back, duchess.” She turned to blow him a kiss before he left the lounge, his grin still firmly in place as he headed down to the office, playing catch up on a few pressing demands on his time for half an hour. 

He then headed to the kitchen, preparing himself a coffee and sorting Cyril’s dinner once he got there. 4:47pm on a Saturday. That time nine years ago would usually mean the house was full of the hustle and bustle of various women getting ready, him returning from a leisurely dog walk and doing a quick bit of business prior to taking his three girlfriends’ out to somewhere fancy. 

How things had changed, and all for the better. 

On that particular Saturday evening, they were playing gracious hosts to Magda and Dennis, their friends coming over for dinner in a few hours, Alfie lifting the lid on the crockpot and giving the beef Bourguignon that had been slow cooking all day a good stir. Nobody cooked like his mother, but bloody hell, Beth gave her a run for her money.  

Furnished with a coffee, he took the large glass of wine through, handing it to his wife with a kiss. “You’ve done a cracking job with that, as usual.” Nodding toward the Christmas tree, he smiled, Beth leaning back into his embrace as Abe flicked the socket, all the warm white lights twinkling into glittered life.  

He might have complained, but beneath the layers of outward distain, he secretly loved Christmas just as much as he did Hanukkah. The joy it brought to his children was immeasurable, and for them, he would move the earth. Putting up a tree, buying gifts and having a nice turkey roast were small by comparison.  

After the decorations had been carefully laid out, Beth placing winter spice wax melts into the burners dotted around the home and running the vacuum around, the kids made their demands for dinner, Alfie sorting them with their request for fish fingers while Beth went to put the clean laundry away and run herself a bath.  

By the time she was done, she refilled the tub for the children, drying her hair while Alfie put himself on bathtime duty.  

“Daddy, look! You’re Father Christmas now!” Flora chirped, giggling as she covered his beard in a barrage of bubbles from the tub.  

“Nah, I ain’t! I’m not that old, and me belly ain’t that big either!”  

She was quick in her cheekily delivered comeback. “Yeah, it is.” 

“Oi!” he growled, picking up the small bucket bath toy and emptying it over her head. “Less of that, or I’m phoning Father Christmas and telling him not to drop by here on Christmas Eve, right?” 

Flora was aghast, Abe tittering to himself. “You wouldn’t, daddy!” 

“Yeah?” he spoke, reaching for the kid’s shampoo. “I do a hundred sit ups a day to make sure I ain’t got no Father Christmas belly, so you’ll cast your aspersions elsewhere, you hear me?”  

“Daddy, daddy,” she began, Alfie beginning to lather her hair. “Are aspersions what mummy makes with the cheese and butter?” 

He and Beth snorted with laughter immediately. “No, little babe. That’s asparagus.” 

“Oh!”  

“Blimey, she’s Mims mark two.” Beth laughed, shaking her head as she finished drying her hair. Once bath fresh and towel swathed, the children were dried and dressed in their pyjamas, both gladly going to bed with little protest. This left the couple with approximately ten minutes to get changed, Alfie sauntering around their ensuite naked as the day he was born, hampering Beth’s progress with her makeup.  

“Got time for a quickie?” 

She scoffed, loading her blusher brush and giving it a little tap. “Darling, with you there’s no such thing. Besides, they’ll be here in less than five minutes, and I’ve got to get the starter in the oven.” Turning around, she sighed painedly, looking down to see a certain part of her husband pointing right at her. “Later. Promise.”  

Giving his cock a good squeeze, she evoked his rumbling groan, delighting his neck with a little nibble before heading into the walk in, pulling on her underwear, grey flared trousers and a simple cropped white sweater. She then remembered her meal choice and changed it for black. There was no way she fancied trying to get Bourguignon sauce out of pale cashmere, she thought, racing when she heard the doorbell chime. 

Clipping her gold hoop earrings in, she was just alighting the stairs when the bell sounded for a second time, Beth jogging down the remainder and jumping over a snoozing Cyril.  

“Where you bloody been?” Magda charged, kissing her cheek. “Shagging, were ya?” 

“Almost,” she winked, reaching to kiss Dennis and take the bottle of Bollinger he carried with him with thanks.  

“Sold that Aston Martin this morning, so I thought we’d celebrate, love,” he spoke, Beth congratulating him as she swung the door shut behind them, Cyril heaving himself up to welcome their guests. “Hello, old lad. Claus sends his regards.”  

Out of their four rottweilers, Claus was the only one who remained, just turned nine and much like Cyril, a lot slower on his feet. It didn’t stop him from showing their two newer dogs who was boss, though, the couple switching from their preferred breed when two beautiful Staffordshire bull terriers had come up for adoption at Battersea Dog’s Home. Magda had triumphed in bending Dennis’s ear about it until he’d finally relented, bringing home Marley and Karma almost two years ago.  

“Where’s me kids?” the lady herself cried, noticing the lounge empty of small people. 

“We put ‘em to bed, or if they’d seen their auntie there’s no way we’d ever have got them to go willingly,” Alfie spoke, opening his arms as he entered the lounge. “How are ya, Mags? Lookin’ gorgeous as ever.”  

“They’re half the flippin’ reason I came!” she joked, kissing his cheek. “And thanks, you nearly had me here in joggers and a t shirt. Been up to my fucking eyes with it all day, I have. Inventory. Beth! Has our Mimi brought them bloody shoes back, or have I got to go up Primrose Hill and lynch the soppy mare for ‘em? Had to include ‘em on the list without ‘em actually being there to save me flippin’ hide!” 

She breathed a sigh of relief when her bestie lifted the bag from behind the sofa, pointing to it. “Come on, come tell me all about your wardrobe woes while I get this champagne on ice.” 

Magda did not disappoint. The inventory of the wardrobe department was a huge undertaking, Magda spending the four days it took before everything was cleared ready for the new season’s attire to fill her sacred space catalogued and cleared out, the items heading back to their respective fashion houses.  

“So I’m there, right, and I’m yelling at the dopey cow that two C’s mean Chanel and two G’s mean Gucci, and if she can’t work that out then why the fuck is she trying to carve out a career in fashion in the first flippin’ place! Told her to go get me bloody coffee and have a think about it while she was gone. Honestly, these flamin’ bloody bastard people they send me to train!”  

Some things truly never did change. Magda had not softened at all, and Beth still found much entertainment in her various tirades against the newcomers to ELLE magazine. “And you wanna know the best part? Only fucking walks past Ralph Lauren during his visit and asks who he is!” 

Beth was aghast. “You’re bloody joking me!” 

“Babe, I nearly fell through the fucking floor!” Taking the champagne handed to her with thanks, she toasted her, pulling her cigarettes from her bag. “Just going for a quick smoke, back in a flash.”  

They had a truly lovely evening together, all discussing their impending break out to Santorini to escape the cold grey that was a winter in London, heading over for a week the day after Boxing Day, wanting to see in the New Year in the sunshine at Beth and Alfie’s luxurious villa.  

“I’ll still never forgive you, mate. Stoned and naked, chasing me down, you twat,” Dennis remarked, remembering back to the first time he and Magda had visited the island to stay within Alfie’s abode, the man himself roaring with laughter at the memory. God, it felt like it had been yesterday, yet nine long, fun filled years had passed in the time between.  

“At least you didn’t have him rubbing his cock all over your leg!” Magda snorted, Alfie winking. 

“Don’t pretend you didn’t bloody love it, Mags!” She pulled a kissy face at him, lifting her wine glass and taking a big gulp, washing down the remainer of her food. Beth truly had done a splendid job with everything.  

The pair stayed for coffee before heading home, Beth loading the dishwasher while humming to music playing on her phone, the feel of Alfie’s hands rubbing over her bum signalling his arrival in the kitchen.  

“Right, now it’s just us and you’ve got the dishes all seen to, it’s someone else’s turn for a bloody good seeing to. Know what I mean, treacle?”  

Oh, how she did.  

She only just about had the chance to add a tablet into the slot and kick the door shut before she was thrown over his shoulder, squealing as he smacked her bum with every step that took them up to their bedroom.  

They tumbled into a kiss, greedy, sinful, longing. All that they had once been hadn’t been diminished by marriage, children or time, their fires still burning as brightly as ever for one another. Making short work of their undress, they hit the bed in a tangle of limbs, Alfie quickly extracting himself to go and flick the lock on the bedroom door, save another embarrassed explanation to Abe over what they were doing.  

“Were you and mum wrestling?” the little lad had inquired, after his parents had hastily dressed upon the morning they’d been caught at it, back when he was five. 

Alfie had never cringed so hard in all his life. “Somat like that, my son.” It had been down to Beth to tentatively explain the birds and the bees, Alfie making himself scarce at speed. 

With any entry from small people prevented, he returned to the bed, grabbing Beth’s legs and lying himself between them, his mouth returning to hers with a hungry grunt. The noise had sparks fluttering through her core, the sound of her husband stirred by passion causing tingles to spark, the scent of her arousal intoxicating to him, his hand sliding down her body to cup at her. She gasped, biting his lower lip before their tongues danced wickedly again, a thick finger swiping at her folds, feeling her petals, the heat of her magmatic against him as he explored.   

“Been wanting this all fuckin’ evening, baby beast.” he panted, mouth slipping to her neck, pressing sumptuous, full-lipped kisses that made her shiver like a summer rose touched by the first chill of autumnal frost. 

A sob welled in her throat, pouring from her like wine as that thick digit pushed within, her glistening walls hugging upon it, eyes a burn of blue fire, body keening against his. God, how she still craved him with such unbridled hunger, their connection every inch as magmatic as it had ever been. She rocked against his hand, greedy for more, a second finger joining the first as he held her neck and returned his lips to hers, kissing her with unmatched thirst. 

He was rigid as iron against her hip, her hands smoothing over tattooed flesh, his muscles cording beneath her touch. She grasped him, pulling upward on his cock, sending a ripple through him that caused his chest to jolt. There was no touch more perfect than that of his wife. He breathed raggedly against the swirl of her tongue, head dipping, teeth sharp at her nipples in turn, fingers curling within her soaking cunt to rake exactly where she needed them to.  

She gasped words of longing, Alfie’s mouth descending in a path of loving, heated kisses, the taste of her skin like sweet berries upon his tongue, every touch a constellation laid over her pale curves, igniting her lust to burn like a forest fire. 

Her sex called to him like a siren through a dark, misty night, polarizing, screaming to him, his mouth descending to feast upon her. Closing his full lips around her glistening folds, he sucked upon her hungrily, the elixir of her pouring into his mouth as he tasted her, lost himself to her, felt himself burn to hear the aroused cadence of his beautiful wife.   

She tasted like sharp honey, womanly nectar seeping onto his tongue as he lapped at her in greed, craving more as he buried his mouth against her, her pale legs virtually knotting themselves around his head. Her wail filled the room in soft song, and the sound burned the edges of his very marrow, his heart skipping beats. 

Her hips rucked against his face, a rush of heat evoked by his tongue tracing never ending circles at her clit making her glow, the pleasure biting and throbbing, his hands roaming her all over. She felt besieged by all he bestowed upon her, the touch familiar but never boring. It never was with Alfie. Monotony was not a word heard of within their bedroom. 

Driving his tongue harder against her potent bundle, feeling the little bud beginning to quake under the unrelenting licks, he watched her, her body quivering as he caused a caustic rush. Glimmers began to skitter through her as he brought her to the brink of it, Beth teetering as he paused in tease, gently blowing upon her clit before sucking once again.  

She came apart with a feral cry, her thighs rigid, panting as her release washed over her in ceaseless waves. His lips tended a diligent path back to her mouth, cock daggering into her trembling centre, a rumbled gasp floating from his mouth to hers as he felt her walls fluttering around his girth.   

He stretched and filled her, hands weaving through the long dark of her hair, Beth moaning against each sweet kiss offered, tasting herself upon his mouth. The very flesh and blood of him drew out the primal need within her to give him everything and take what he so willingly poured into her. 

Their intense love and lust for one another collided in perfect alchemy, her slippery walls flexing around him as she glossed the thick cock splitting her wide, her wails like celestial music drifting into his mind as she wrapped her beautiful legs around him. Pushing into his chest, she turned him, Alfie hitting the bed with a thud and a chuckle.  

“Oh, so the duchess wants to be in charge for a bit, ay?”  

She grinned, leaning to him, offering kisses steeped in smoking honey. “Well, if there’s one person you relinquish control for.” 

She began to move against him with tantalising allure, her hips circling as she bore down on his length, little pricks of pleasure melting down her spine. It took diligence, but he was soon a mess beneath her, sweat streaking his tattooed flesh, his cock throbbing within the clench of her walls. Her movements became more focused, wanting to send him reeling into the blinding eclipse of pleasure, feel his enormity crest beneath her.   

The soaking clench of her cunt fluttered strongly around him, the pressure perfect as he felt it crackle furiously before the fire ripped through him completely. With his cock pulsing, he filled her of all which she milked from him, his head thudding back against the bed, gritted teeth finally relaxing as he swam in ecstasy.  

His soul floated somewhere above him, rendered a shaking wreck by her, colours illuminating behind his closed eyelids, everything fluid as the waves continued to wash through him, his heart thundering. She gentled her motions, coming to a stop, her walls flexing around him, but not in the same way as he knew would have had she reached the same cataclysmic finish as he, and for that, he would make much amends. 

They lay stroking one another, chattering, laughing as the night hours drew out. He needed a little more recovery time, now he’d hit his mid-forties, but once that was attained... 

Beth shrieked loudly as her back hit the bedroom wall, glad the children’s bedrooms were a fair enough distance for her yelp not to wake them, laughing excitedly. His mouth covered hers, her legs firm in their hug around his waist as his hands glided over her sweat slicked hair, hips beginning to drive forth into her burning centre. 

She wailed at the fever-hot intrusion of him, merciless in his delivery, fucked hard and fast against the wall coated in luxury paint. His groans spilled onto her tongue, swirling with his, her moans arrowing into the epicentre of his lust for her as he drove into her like a piston. 

Her elegant, dark red nails clawed at his back, marking him, the sting both sharp and sweet as he persisted in frantically building her up to inferno. For him, she would burn to her very bones and back. He’d never accepted any less. 

Alfie never would either. 

Her cries of abandon filled the air as he slowed his rhythm, backing off from a frenzied, merciless pounding of her cunt to a slow, purposeful movement, dragging every girthy inch of his cock in a sumptuously slow glide against her twitching walls.  

Spearing her again hard, he reached her hilt and shuddered with overwhelming desire, arms snaking beneath her trembling thighs to spread her wider, allowing him to bottom out deeper, filling her to the very summit of her cunt. He then slowed, everything potently drawn out, the tempest swirling slowly, but by no means less brutally.  

He was soaked in her slick, her walls hugging him snugly as he withdrew slowly once again, his cock glistening in the low light. It was almost too much to withstand for him, how hot she smouldered all over, but nowhere more so than her cunt. She was like magma around him, without the pain of an unhealable burn.   

Alternating, he drove into her hard again, balls smacking against her with a lewd slap as he began to fuck her frenziedly, Beth demanding he go harder, her nails once again clawing like a feral feline as she felt her ascension flood her body. Sparks skittered through her, her release the full moon rising over his dark horizon as she came apart for him with maddening intensity.   

He pounded her voraciously, giving her no time to recover from his afflictions, fucking her with consuming vigour. Her aroused cries grew louder, her voice breaking with fervour, each thrust the ignition for lightning to begin darting up her spine once more.    

“That’s it, baby. Come again for me.” He growled low in her ear, tongue brushing her throat and his hand fisting her clammy hair to yank her head back, the howl of release reverberating through his ear as his teeth implanted themselves into her shoulder, the pain adding to the overwhelming pleasure.    

Little tremors wracked his cock as he slowed again, wanting to experience those pleasurable twinges as intensely as possible. Re-establishing the surging pace, he let go of her hair and gripped her shoulders, forcing her to take the full, unyielding brunt of every acerbically delivered thrust.    

His groans were as low as rolling thunder, chasing the next release he knew she had for him. They were slick with sweat, bodies simmering, ready and willing to boil for one another again, the embers of their fuck growing, glowing, the fire roaring through them as he felt himself spill into the viscid clutch of her cunt as she shook hard through her own release.   

They swam in bliss together, alone in the bright light of orgasmic abandon, just him and her entwined, the rest of the world falling away. The sound of her soft exclamations through each laboured gasp brought him back from it, looking at her adoringly.  

“My Bethany. Still a little wild’un, ain’t ya, darlin?” 

Trying to catch her breath, she left out a comic huff, kissing the tip of his nose as he chuckled. “Always am for you, boo.” 

He carried her to the ensuite, both taking a quick, refreshing shower to cleanse the sweat which had beaded them, Beth pulling on a clean nightie and Alfie his pyjama bottoms, unlocking the door on the way back to the bed. Gone were the days of enjoying sleeping with nothing other than each other wrapped around their nakedness, now that they usually had early morning visitors to their bed.  

Whistle, beep, snore, grizzle, whistle, snore. Yes, they could only be the sounds of one person that awoke Alfie at 5:52am the following morning, pulling back the duvet to see Flora snuggled up beside him.  

“Ahh, ‘ello, Officer Jones,” he spoke, stroking her messy hair, Beth snorting with laughter at his side. 

“We have to let them watch those films at some point, they’ll love them,” she spoke, referring to the Police Academy films, one of the characters who of course her daughter seemed to take after in the sound effects department.  

“Yeah, when they’re a bit older,” he agreed, pulling back the duvet to see Abe snuggled in beside his mother. “Ahh, the other one found his way in too. Like homing beacons, innit?” 

Just then, the door was shunted open, their furry child ambling in and jumping up onto the foot of the bed, the family complete. Flora stirred, rubbing her eyes and smiling widely. “Cyril.” she croaked, crawling from under the covers, her fleecy security blanket within her grasp. Plonking herself down next to the gargantuan dog, she covered them both with the swathe of soft, grey fleece, kissing his head and wrapping her arms around his neck.  

“I suppose you’re going to get up and workout, hmm?” Beth asked, Alfie turning over and wrapping her in his arms, reaching to gently stroke Abe’s head.  

“Nah, love. I’m happy exactly where I am.” 

That went for all five of them. 

The End.  

[dreamlandcreations]

The One That Got Away

modern gangster!Alfie Solomons x undercover cop!Reader

Summary: this prompt in this AU

Warnings: it's Alfie... so language, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (sort of, not yet bc you know, idiots), you are hurt and Alfie is ready to kill anyone who was involved in it 🥰

You silently prayed he would keep his bad habit of working late so you could find him in his office at his first and favourite bar.

Sighing in relief when the back door opened after a few knocks, you barely held yourself up with one hand on the doorframe while your other palm pressed on the wound on your abdomen.

"What the fuck?" the man standing in front of you exclaimed so loudly you winced at the volume.

Before you could answer though, your remaining strength just left you and you ended up collapsing into his arms. The last thing you were aware of was his worried expression looking down at you.

Waking up to the doctor on Alfie's payroll stitching you up was not how you imagined your day would go. The gangster held you down as the doctor worked and you weren't spared from the questioning even in the midst of pain.

"What the fuck happened?" was Alfie's first question, not even waiting for an answer before the next followed with a growling tone that sent shivers down your spine. "Who did this to you?"

"Doesn't... matter," you wheezed, fighting to stay conscious.

"Doesn't matter?!" he exclaimed, his grip tightening.

"Not...your problem."

"Well, it is my bloody problem now, isn't it? With you fucking bleeding out on my fucking couch from a fucking bullet wound."

You grit your teeth as you answer. "I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."

He sighs and you could leave it at that but you know the man, if he doesn't get the answers from you, he will look elsewhere and you couldn't let that happen. You couldn't put him at risk.

As the doctor just finished, Alfie let you go, not anticipating that you'd try to stand up.

"I will get out of here and you can forget this ever happened," is all you could say before your knees buckled and you collapsed again.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

You wince at the yell as Alfie lifts you up and tells the doctor to get out. You expected him to put you back on the couch but he sits down with you, not letting you out of his arms.

He sighs again, trying to calm down, at least enough to get proper answers out of you. Then he huffs as you refuse to meet his eyes.

"You will tell me who shot you and I will take care of it," he murmurs his demand while pressing his forehead against the side of yours. At that you can't resist anymore, you look up at the man who made you question everything you ever believed in and once again, for the millionth time since you've known him, you are tempted to kiss him and if his flickering gaze is any indication, he might feel the same pull too.

Squirming in his lap results in a sharp stab of pain and you gasp before turning away, hiding your face against his bloodied shirt. He feels your tears but you don't make a sound, not even as he hugs you closer, trying to give you some comfort.

"I didn't want to drag you into this," is an apology and pleading at the same time, with the "he's a cop" as your final warning.

He doesn't care, not anymore. Alfie let you go once, it will not happen again. He will make sure you are safe, whatever it takes.

[ryuzakemo128]

Four Horsemen

Chapter Three: A Song of Winter’s Snow

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Red (Female Reader)

Genre: Modern, sci-fi, fantasy, fluff, mystery

Masterlist: Link

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Red thinks about how this all started. The memory of her involvement with The Four Horsemen.

(Red’s point of view)

As winter's icy grip tightens outside my bedroom window, I seek solace in the warmth of my blankets and the comforting hum of a heater. But despite the physical comfort, my mind is restless, haunted by the memories of my past life as a member of the enigmatic group known as The Four Horsemen within the FSB.

The true nature and purpose of The Four Horsemen remain shrouded in secrecy, like elusive shadows in the night. The FSB provided vague explanations, but I hunger for the truth. The origin of our group, whispered among the elite, remains hidden in ambiguity.

I remember a conversation with a close friend, back when The Four Horsemen were mere speculation—a concept the FSB was determined to bring to life. The details of its inception are obscured, intentionally veiled. The involvement of the elite hints at a deeper purpose, both intriguing and unsettling.

My first encounter with an elite, cloaked in darkness, lingers in my memory. At the age of 18, after rigorous training, I found myself face-to-face with the enigmatic figures who shaped the path of The Four Horsemen.

Memories of how I became one of them came flooding back to me, hitting me like a freight train in the middle of August. 

I walked into the room, dimly lit and suffused with an air of secrecy. A note, cryptic and intriguing, instructed me to meet someone in this clandestine setting. Shadows danced on the walls, their movements mirroring the enigma that surrounded me.

As I cautiously stepped forward, my heart pounded in my chest, anticipation mingling with a hint of trepidation. I had been prepared for this moment, but nothing could truly ready me for the sight that awaited. "What would they want from someone like me?" My mind began to ponder.  The room was filled with an intense silence, broken only by the sound of my own breathing. And then, from the depths of the shadows, a voice emerged—a voice that carried both authority and mystery.

"Welcome, Red," the voice whispered, its tone sending a shiver down my spine. "You have been chosen to join The Four Horsemen, a group of individuals with extraordinary abilities and a shared purpose."

"I'm still training though," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "I doubt this would be allowed," 

I jumped a little as the voice behind me said "Doubt is a luxury we cannot afford, Red. You have been carefully selected for a reason. Your potential is undeniable, and your training will continue under our guidance. The Four Horsemen do not seek perfection but rather the strength to face the challenges that lie ahead. Embrace your abilities and the path that awaits you."

"You do not seek perfection, then why don't you form the group yourself, I mean your presence alone would be enough," I replied. "Is the FSB even ok with something like this?" 

The room fell into a hushed silence as whispers swirled in the background, almost as if the walls themselves held their breath. Then, the voice spoke again, this time with a note of caution and secrecy. "The FSB may not be aware of our existence, Red. The Four Horsemen operate beyond their knowledge, a hidden force that acts in the shadows. We have our own purpose, our own mission. And you, Red, are an integral part of it."

I knew better than to ask more questions, the more questions I ask, the more anxious they became and the less I wanted information to be revealed in this way. I nodded, understanding the delicate nature of the situation. Silence enveloped the room once again, and I could sense the weight of the secrets that bound us together. The voice continued, its words carrying a sense of urgency.

"Red, trust is paramount among The Four Horsemen. We operate in secrecy, and our strength lies in our unity. Together, we possess the power to shape destinies, to influence the world in ways unseen. The FSB may have its own agenda, but we transcend their limitations. We are bound by a higher purpose, one that requires us to navigate the shadows with caution and precision."

"I will embrace this path, this hidden existence. Guide me, and together, we shall unveil the secrets and face the challenges that await." I said, slightly concerned what the challenges might actually be waiting on the other side for me. 

The voice behind me exuded a sense of satisfaction as it responded, "You have made the right choice, Red. Your commitment to the path of The Four Horsemen will lead you to the answers you seek and the fulfillment of your true potential. We shall guide you every step of the way, preparing you for the challenges that lie ahead."

I knew there was no turning back. The path I had chosen would lead me into a world of shadows, secrets, and extraordinary abilities. The mysteries surrounding The Four Horsemen were now intertwined with my own destiny, and together, we would unveil the truths that lay hidden in the depths of darkness.

As I left that dimly lit room, the weight of responsibility settled upon my shoulders. The journey ahead would be treacherous, but I was determined to embrace it wholeheartedly. With the guidance of The Four Horsemen and my connection to the ancient traditions of Rodnovery, I would face whatever challenges awaited, unraveling the secrets that bound us and fulfilling my role in this enigmatic group.

[evita-shelby]

The Wandering

thank you @justrainandcoffee for letting me play with Rolfie and make this sequel to We didn't start the fire🖤

this is only a preview

summary: the Nelsons visit the Wandering Jew on Halloween and Rose makes the mistake of asking Eva to investigate the ghost as well as the strange vibe the hotel has.

Their first trip after the pandemic is London to visit Katie and her husband.

Its Halloween and because they don’t want to make things awkward with his sister and her husband ---because Eva has had baby fever after seeing Laurie's baby daughter---, they stay at the Wandering Jew.

They knew the owners, Rose and Alfie even if neither Jack nor Alfie could stand each other. They were more Eva and Katie’s friends than his and suddenly he and Alfie are sharing a rum bottle because Rose swears there’s a ghost in this place and Eva dabbles in witchcraft.

Jack wouldn’t lie and say he doesn’t believe her if their room and the hall it was didn’t give him a nauseating sense of déjà vu.

The painting with a red bearded knight and the lady that reminded him of Eva had been the first, then the dent on the simple candleholder felt like he’d been the one to drop it and the bed board ,to top it all off, had their initials in a heart with today’s date.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Alfie asks Jack who he assumes knows the answer as he takes another candy from the obnoxiously huge bag of Halloween candy they’d brought from the States at Rose’s request.

“Fuck if I know.” Jack takes a swig of the rum bottle having no fucking clue what this will bring.

And then they woke up alone in the waiting room with a hangover. The Hotel looked the same when he went upstairs to his room expecting to find a sleeping Eva who’s going to tease him for getting blackout drunk last night.

The door opens to reveal a medieval castle, Eva dressed exactly like the woman in the painting and talking like she’s in a Shakespearean play. And because he thought it was just a crazy sex dream, he let Princess Eva led him to the bedroom only to find himself alone and back in the hall of the Wandering Jew.

Not only that he is wearing the heavy steel armor, the red beard he’d kill to grow out like that and even worse, completely sober.

Had to be a dream, must’ve been the rum, the candy and the takeout they had last night.

“Fucking hell, what sort of ritual did Evie do?” Alfie, dressed in simple medieval clothes, appears from a different room.

[justrainandcoffee]

In the beginning of the beautiful pride month. I offer you my modern!Alfie who's pansexual.

As some of you know, in the universe I created, his ex is Tommy and he broke up with him before meeting my oc, Rosie.

If you want to read about the moment he confesses to her about his sexuality here you can find the story:

The colours of the rainbow

And here is his chaotic partner loving him the way he deserves:

Pancakes in Pandemic

And my Tofie masterlist if you want angst (and some fluff):

Tofie masterlist

Happy pride.