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strxngewitch02 · 6 months ago

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ALL I WANTED | PART TWO.

• Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader.

•Song: All I wanted by Paramore.

•Word count: 13.4K (I can explain- )

•Summary: (Based off of Season One Episode 2 & 3!)

A continuation from part one!

You've been in love and best friends with Tommy ever since you were kids, and when he came back from the war in France he has been cold and distant from you.

Wanting to be close with him again you put yourself at risk to try and help him with business with Billy Kimber.

Basically, you're like Grace in this story but with a few twists! I also changed up my writing style so there's going to be no "y/n" in this!

+ WARNINGS: SA attempt by Billy Kimber so please be careful of reading, and also smut.. just pure smut, but with built up plot :P

ALL OF CONTENT BELONGS TO STEVEN KNIGHT /NETFLIX PEAKY BLINDERS.

—

***

It was the next day, as you approached the racecourse, a wave of exhilaration washed over you, mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant sound of cheering crowds. Sneaking in wasn’t as daunting as you’d anticipated; the thrill of the illicit made your heart race. The atmosphere was charged, a chaotic blend of excitement and tension that hung thick in the air. In a place like this—a vibrant race track teeming with gamblers and the frenetic energy of the Shelby Home and Betting shop—you quickly realized it was practically a lawless realm. Billy Kimber’s infamous tracks were notorious for their high stakes and even higher tempers. Choosing the back entrance felt like a clever move, offering a sense of safety in the shadows, where your presence went unnoticed.

Buying a new dress had been a considerable challenge, fraught with the weight of your mother’s relentless reminders to save your shillings. Since childhood, her voice echoed in your mind, a mantra of thriftiness that tugged at your conscience. But working odd jobs for the Shelby family had finally paid off, allowing you to set aside enough to splurge on something special. As you stood before the mirror, your breath caught at the sight. You hoped you hadn’t gone overboard, but the moment felt monumental. The dress—a stunning black flapper number—draped over you like a second skin, its ruffled sleeves and plunging V-neck accentuating your curves with an effortless elegance. The soft fabric whispered against your skin, and the delicate ribbon tie cinched your waist, giving you a silhouette that made you feel both confident and daring.

You adorned yourself with your mother’s cherished pearl necklace, the cool beads resting against your collarbone, paired with matching earrings that caught the light with every movement. Your hair was meticulously styled, framing your face and adding a touch of sophistication. As you stepped out, the transformation felt profound; you were no longer just you but a vision of glamor, ready to take on the world.

As you navigated through the packed hallways, the vibrant energy enveloped you like a warm embrace. The parlor was alive with the intoxicating sounds of jazz music, each note swirling through the air like a delicate dance. Couples glided across the polished floor, lost in the rhythm, their laughter mingling with the music. The soft glow of chandeliers illuminated the room, casting a golden hue over the dancers, who wore smiles that radiated pure joy. You caught glimpses of men in sharp suits, their cigars clutched between fingers, while others leaned casually against the bar, their glasses filled with amber liquid that glimmered in the light.

In this glamorous setting, you felt a flicker of self-doubt—a brief moment of incongruity amid the elegance surrounding you. Yet, as you glanced at your reflection in a nearby polished mirror, the spark of confidence ignited within you. You looked sexy, and that was a bonus you were determined to embrace.

Your gaze flickered around the bustling parlor, finally landing on Billy Kimber, who sat with an air of arrogant confidence at a table surrounded by his men, a crystal flute of champagne in hand. The scene was almost absurd—this man reveled in luxury while his diligent accountant toiled away, managing the chaos that Kimber seemed to shrug off. As you maneuvered through the crowd, you felt the weight of Kimber’s intense gaze boring into you, a heat that lingered at the back of your head, impossible to ignore. It was unnerving; but you had captured his attention, and now you just needed to…

Before you could plot your next move, a firm, warm grip encircled your arm, pulling you gently to the side. Instinctively, your body pressed against a solid form, the warmth of their hand settling possessively on your waist. You turned, and your breath caught as you locked eyes with Tommy Shelby. His icy blue gaze sent a jolt of electricity through you, a tumultuous mix of excitement and anxiety swirling in your chest.

Oh shit. Tommy…

The thought echoed in your mind as you struggled to swallow the lump forming in your throat. “You better have a fucking good explanation for why you’re here,” he said, his voice calm yet charged with gravelly tension. His expression was a blend of annoyance and something more complex, a vexation that hinted at deeper concerns. As he began to sway with you to the music, the proximity was intoxicating, the heat between you both palpable.

Every fiber of your being was acutely aware of him—the way his presence seemed to command the space, how his grip felt both protective and dangerously intimate. You could feel your heart racing, a wild rhythm that matched the beat of the music surrounding you. This was more than just an encounter; it was a delicate dance on the edge of a knife, a collision of desire and danger. You fought to steady your breathing, knowing you had to tread carefully. This wasn’t merely about slipping into the scene unnoticed; it was about navigating the intricate web of emotions that tangled around you, especially in the presence of Tommy Shelby. Caught between fear and longing, you realized that tonight could change everything.

Quickly regaining your composure, you let the moment carry you as his hand shifted from your arm to grasp your palm. You felt the warmth of his skin seep into yours, an intoxicating connection that sent a shiver down your spine as you continued to dance amidst the swirling crowd. “Actually, I do,” you countered, your expression defiant, lips curling into a faint frown. “I just wanted to help you.” Your voice softened, and your eyes locked onto his, searching for a flicker of understanding.

It didn’t take long for Tommy to piece together how you had discovered his whereabouts. “Well, for one, you need to learn how to keep your ears out of my business,” he stated firmly, his stern gaze unwavering. “You need to leave; it’s not a good time.” The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, yet there was an underlying tension that both thrilled and terrified you.

God, it was hard to concentrate when he stood so close, his body radiating warmth against yours. The faint scent of cigarettes mixed with something uniquely Tommy, making your head spin. You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he looked, the dark gray suit tailored perfectly to his form, making his striking blue eyes pop even more. He had shaved, his jawline sharp and defined, giving him an air of refreshment that only added to your growing attraction.

But beneath the surface of your admiration lay a deeper turmoil. You felt torn between the desire to be near him and the fear of the dangers that surrounded him. Your heart raced not just from the dance but from the unspoken connection simmering between you. Each moment felt like a precarious balance, a delicate dance of vulnerability and defiance. You longed to reach out and pull him closer, to bridge the gap between the worlds you inhabited, but the tension in his expression held you back.

“Tommy,” you said softly, your voice barely above the music, a thread of vulnerability woven into your tone. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.” The sincerity in your words surprised you, a deep-seated need to connect cutting through the tension. You wanted him to see that your intentions were genuine, that you were willing to face the risks to stand by him.

In that moment, as the crowd surged around you and the music pulsed like a heartbeat, you realized this wasn’t just a chance encounter. It was a turning point, a moment that could shift everything for you. The thrill of uncertainty blended with a flicker of hope, igniting a fire in your chest that urged you to take a leap. You wanted to connect, to show him that you were more than just an outsider; you were someone who understood the stakes, willing to fight for a place in his world.

A glare formed on your features as you gazed up at Tommy, resolute in your purpose. “I am not leaving,” you replied sharply, your voice unwavering.

“You don’t get to make that decision…” He snapped, leaning closer, his face inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath brushing against your skin, sending a rush of adrenaline through you. “I mean it, love. This is not the time.” His tone grew increasingly frustrated, yet he maintained a semblance of control as he gently guided you toward a quieter corner at the back, the noise of the crowd fading into a distant hum.

“Tommy, I’m not going anywhere,” you declared, your voice firm as you followed him. But when you realized he was leading you toward the back exit, you halted in your tracks, your heart racing. He stopped too, letting out a deep sigh, his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes bore into yours, searching, challenging.

“Ever since France, with the coppers and that inspector—now the Lee family and Billy Kimber? You’ve been acting strange, pulling these dangerous stunts without involving me anymore. You know I can handle myself. I’ve helped run this business with Polly ever since you and Arthur and John left for France. And now you come back and shut me out? What’s different about now?” Your throat burned with the intensity of your words, each syllable echoing your frustration and hurt.

“We came back. That’s what changed.” Tommy replied curtly, pulling slightly away, his hands resting over your biceps, the grip both firm and possessive. “This is business between me and Kimber. I’m telling you now, this isn’t the time to get involved.” He growled slightly, a mix of anger and something deeper threading through his voice, his hold tightening on your arms.

You could sense the tension simmering between you, a cocktail of frustration and concern swirling in the air. You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely infuriated or merely protective, but his intensity sent your heart racing. This was the first time in a long while that he had shown he cared, the vulnerability of the moment stark against the backdrop of your conflict.

But no matter the reason for his anger, you stood your ground, refusing to back down.

“Tommy, you’re not the only one who gets to decide what’s dangerous,” you shot back, your pulse quickening as the space between you felt charged. “I’m here, and I deserve to know what’s going on. You may think you can protect me, but I’m not fragile. I’m part of this, too.”

The air between you crackled, each heartbeat amplifying the tension. His eyes searched yours, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you faded away. It was just you and him, caught in a storm of emotions that could either pull you apart or bring you closer together.

Shaking your head, you held onto your defiant expression, narrowing your eyes slightly. “Let me help you, Tommy. At least let me pretend to be your date to impress Billy Kimber. I’m already here, and he’s seen me.” Your heart constricted in your chest, a mix of fear and determination coursing through you. You both were far too stubborn; one of you had to break.

Tommy’s gaze pierced through you, steely and unyielding, as if he were dissecting your very thoughts. The intensity of his stare sent a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how much he commanded the space around him. You could see the internal battle within him, a flicker of acknowledgment that you were right. Billy did have an interest in you, and that realization hung heavily in the air.

After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke. “Fine.” His voice was low and gravelly, a reluctant concession that felt more like a threat than an agreement. He glanced at his pocket watch, then back at you, his expression unreadable, as if he were weighing your worth against the dangers that surrounded him. “Stay by the bar. I’ll come back and get you.” As he intertwined his fingers with yours, a rush of warmth spread through you, grounding you in the moment despite the swirling chaos around you. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent your heart racing. You felt a mix of elation and anxiety as he led you toward the bar, your pulse quickening at the thought of being part of his world, even if only for a moment.

You could feel the stakes rising, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you. There was an unspoken acknowledgment that this wasn’t just about the game with Kimber; it was about your place in Tommy’s world. As he released your hand, the warmth lingered, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that the night held more than just danger—it held the potential for something deeper.

He left you alone for only a moment, and you watched intently as he navigated through the crowd, two bulging bags slung over his shoulder. You assumed they were filled with shillings—money that the Lee family must have pilfered from Billy Kimber’s races. How on earth had he managed to get his hands on that? The enigma of Tommy Shelby always left you in awe, a mystery wrapped in layers you longed to unravel. For now, all you could do was watch, a role you had grown accustomed to throughout your life. Observing was what you did best.

Your gaze remained fixed on Tommy as he casually approached Kimber’s table, a confident swagger in his stride. He dumped the contents of the bags onto the table with a clatter, coins spilling out in a shimmering cascade. Kimber’s initial surprise morphed quickly into a look of perplexity, then annoyance. Tommy settled into the seat across from him, his movements fluid and assured as he pulled out a cigarette, the gesture almost casual yet laced with an underlying tension. You could only assume he was continuing the negotiations that had begun in the garrison yesterday, a dance of power that seemed to electrify the air around them.

You felt the weight of their exchange draw you in, but your attention faltered when you realized Kimber had caught you watching. A flicker of recognition passed between you, and you quickly turned away, the heat of embarrassment rising to your cheeks. With a deep sigh, you accepted a glass of champagne from the bartender, the cool crystal a contrast to the warmth building in your chest.As you take a sip, the bubbles tickle your throat, and you let the effervescence distract you from the tension that hangs in the air.

The entire situation was aggravating. You couldn’t shake off Tommy’s words—We came back. That’s what changed. A part of you sensed there was more beneath the surface, a depth to his statement that he wasn’t revealing. What an enigma Tommy Shelby was, a man cloaked in secrets and shadows, leaving you both intrigued and frustrated.

Lost in your thoughts, you were suddenly jolted from your daze by a hand brushing against your lower back. You turned to find Tommy standing there, taking a final drag from his cigarette before extinguishing it in the white glass ashtray before him. He seemed utterly unfazed, his demeanor calm and collected, yet something in his presence made your pulse quicken.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. He looked back at you, his expression stoic and unreadable, as if he had mastered the art of concealing his thoughts.

“So listen, uh, we’re going to dinner at Kimber’s house,” he said casually, tilting his head slightly as if it were the most ordinary of announcements. He glanced down for a moment, avoiding your gaze, which only piqued your interest further. It felt like he was holding something back, a decision made without your involvement.

You leaned in slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of what lay behind his nonchalance. “Why now?” you pressed, your heart racing as you sought answers. The tension in the air felt electric, charged with unspoken questions and unresolved feelings.

Tommy shrugged slightly, his tone indifferent. “It’s business. Nothing more.” His words hung between you, but the way he said them felt like a barrier, keeping you at arm’s length. You searched his face for any hint of vulnerability, but he remained a fortress, unmoved by the weight of the moment.

“He has a place a couple of miles away,” Tommy continued, finally meeting your gaze. But even then, his expression remained unreadable, a mask of stoicism that made your heart race with unease. “I have some business to settle with the accountant first, so you go on ahead with Kimber.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words pressing down on you. A pit of dread settled in your stomach, quickly igniting into a flare of anger. You never imagined that your best friend—the man you had loved since childhood—would so casually offer you up like this. “You’re not coming? Just going to leave me alone with Kimber?” Your voice wavered, hurt lacing your tone as you held his gaze, desperate for any flicker of empathy.

“Yeah…” Tommy replied, his voice flat, as if he were stating an inevitable fact. “Until I’m done here… Is that alright?” The nonchalance in his tone was like a slap, leaving you feeling even more isolated. It felt as if he was expecting you to accept this without question, casting you into a role you never asked for.

The sting of betrayal cut deep. How could he be so indifferent to your feelings? You had wanted to help him, to stand by his side as he faced whatever darkness loomed ahead. But this? This was not what you envisioned. You fought the urge to lash out, the emotional turmoil boiling just beneath the surface.

Setting your champagne glass down with a sharp clink, you took a steadying breath. “When I said I wanted to help, I didn’t think you would pimp me out…” The words felt heavy, and though you tried to keep your voice calm, the tremor revealed your pain.

“What did you expect?” Tommy sighed, irritation creeping into his tone. The tension radiating from him was almost palpable, a wall he had built that left you feeling small and vulnerable. “You said you wanted to help me. And if you want to help me, you’re going to have to sharpen up.” His jaw clenched, and he briefly glanced at Kimber and his accountant, who were waiting with impatience, their eyes darting between you and Tommy.

In that moment, you felt utterly exposed, torn between your loyalty to Tommy and the bitter realization that he was asking you to sacrifice your self-worth. You had envisioned standing alongside him, fighting the battles he faced, not being thrust into the shadows to play a role that felt so degrading.

As the weight of his words settled over you, the truth began to sink in: this was not just about the night ahead; it was about the trust you thought you had built over the years, now crumbling before your eyes. You stood there, grappling with the ache of betrayal, yearning for the boy who once fought for you, who once saw you as his equal. Instead, you felt like a pawn, pushed away rather than embraced, and the realization twisted deep in your gut.

“The deal is he has two hours with you, he thinks he’s a ladies man, thinks he can seduce you. Whenever you want you can kick him in the balls and be on your merry way, and I can meet you back at the garrison.” Tommy explained but you could feel your emotions on the brink of collapse. “So that’s how it’s going to be?” You asked back your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or worry or honestly anything within his features but to your disappointment you couldn’t find anything.

“You wanted to be involved, and you chose to stay. You could have walked out when I told you to, but you didn’t. If you want to help me, you need to understand that sacrifices are necessary.” Tommy’s voice was cold, leaving no room for argument. He turned away, the air thick with unresolved tension as he walked out with Kimber’s accountant, leaving you alone with Kimber, whose gaze felt predatory, making your skin crawl.

In that moment, a wave of despair washed over you. The betrayal stung, sharper than any physical wound. You had poured your heart into him, believing that your love could bridge the gap between your dreams and his ambitions. But now, faced with the stark reality, you felt like a ghost haunting the edges of his life, invisible and unwanted.

You took a shaky breath, trying to gather the fragments of your shattered trust. Each heartbeat echoed the truth: you had been right all along. Tommy had never truly seen you; you were merely a placeholder in his world, eclipsed by his relentless pursuit of success. The realization crushed you, leaving an ache in your chest that felt insurmountable.

As Kimber’s gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and heartache twisted within. You felt abandoned, longing for a connection that had never been reciprocated. The dreams you once cherished felt like distant memories, slipping through your fingers like sand. Maybe, in the end, he really didn’t care about you at all. You were left grappling with the painful truth: the love you had for him was not enough to keep him by your side, and now you were just a shadow of what might have been, lost and alone.

***

The ride to Billy Kimber’s house felt like an eternity, each passing moment stretched thin by his incessant chatter. It took every ounce of restraint in your body to keep your mouth shut, fighting the urge to stuff a sock in his mouth to silence his bragging about his accomplishments and his eagerness to show off his extravagant home.

Regret gnawed at you like a persistent ache. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Tommy had been right all along—that you should have listened to his warnings. The memory of him offering you up so easily stung like a fresh wound. What was he trying to prove? Was this some twisted form of punishment? The questions spiraled in your mind, each “why-” echoing louder than the last, leaving you feeling more lost and frustrated.

“Ever been to a house as big as this, hm?” His obnoxious voice jolted you from your thoughts. You stood by the window, refusing to turn and meet Kimber’s gaze as he approached with a drink in hand. The arrogance in his tone was palpable, and you could almost feel it pressing against your skin, making you consider the absurdity of throwing yourself out of the window just to escape his presence.

Your disinterest was glaringly obvious, yet Kimber, blissfully ignorant, continued to prattle on. “Don’t see why that matters,” you replied, your voice flat and detached, keeping your eyes trained on the scenery outside. Wow, that tree sure looked interesting over there. It was a stark contrast to the chaotic mess of emotions swirling inside you, a welcome distraction from the reality of being trapped in this situation.

The hairs on your neck stood up as you felt his hands on your shoulders instantly flipping you around forcing you to meet his gaze, your heart began to race from your chest, your eyes widening slightly. “I love my women feisty..Especially when they have such a bloody hot body such as yours.” He murmured with a grin on his lips as he grabbed your face in his hands forcing his lips against yours causing a muffled yelp to spill from your lips but you didn’t hesitate to bite down on his bottom lip causing him to pull back with a pained groan holding his lip. “You fucking bit me? You bitch!” He cursed at you completely livid, but you remained rigid in your spot, your gaze piercing at him.

“Yeah? I’m a bitch and your dick is small.” You snarled back but without any warning Billy lunged at you causing you to stumble to the side trying to get away only for your body to be slammed against the pool table feeling sharp pain shoot throughout your lower back as you scrambled to fight this man off of you. “You need to be taught some fucking manners.” He hissed in your ear as he pinned you down against the table with one hand holding your wrists, while the other was pulling up your dress making your stomach sink. “Get the fuck off of me!” You shouted as you continued to squirm before managing to slip your hand out from his grasp and jabbed your fingers into his eyes making him scream out in pain causing him to back off for a moment giving you an opportunity to slip both of your hands out and kicked him in the balls making him double over with a groan.

As swiftly as he released you, your instincts kicked in, urging you to dart toward the door. But just as you lunged forward, it swung open to reveal a breathless Tommy, and you froze, heart pounding in your chest. The shock of his sudden appearance hit you like a jolt, mixing with the adrenaline that surged through your veins, amplifying every sound and sensation. Fear and relief collided within you, leaving you momentarily paralyzed, caught between the urgency of escape and the chaotic swirl of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck are you doing here?! I still have another hour?!” Kimber shouted his face burning red as he glared daggers at you and Tommy, while slowly getting up from the ground, his hand grasping his manhood. “Just wait, and just listen to me..” Tommy spoke with wide eyes, his voice steady yet breathless, betraying the tension in the air. He raised his hand slightly, a cautious gesture meant to signal his intention to diffuse the situation, aware that Kimber might redirect his anger toward him instead. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and a flicker of apprehension crossed his face as he braced himself for the potential storm.

Instinctively you stepped to the side slowly making your way back to the door while simultaneously keeping your eyes on the two men. “I was going to let you go through with it but in the end my conscience got the better of me..” Tommy says slowly putting his hand down now both of his hands resting on his hips, as Kimber stared at him his face still scrunched up into a glare. “She looks good on the outside but.. S-she, she’s ill. Hears voices all the time and.. makes her act like a nut job, that’s why they kicked her out of the brothel.” Tommy pointed at you, and your jaw dropped in disbelief at his outrageous statement. Kimber’s face twisted in shock as he glanced over, his expression a mix of confusion and disgust. “And it doesn’t help that… she also has the claps,” Tommy concluded, throwing that ridiculous cherry on top of his lie. Offended, you felt a flush of anger rising in your chest as Kimber recoiled, avoiding you as if you were a contagious disease, while you stood there, furious and humiliated by the absurdity of it all.

No way Tommy just managed to save your life but insulted you at the same fucking time.

“I saw that you took a shine on her so I thought what the hell? And thought I used her.. Call it my better nature but I just thought you should know.” Tommy added to Kimber before approached you, lightly grabbing your arm as he said, “You go wait in the car.” His tone was authoritative, and you could hear the undercurrent of sternness in his voice. But you turned away sharply, pulling your arm back aggressively, every ounce of frustration boiling over. Without another word, you stormed out of the room, leaving him behind, and didn’t bother to wait for his reaction.

Once outside, you felt the weight of your anger propel you forward, each step away from the house stoking the flames of your fury. Your blood boiled with each stride, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest, almost making you dizzy. You flung yourself into the car, slamming the door with a force that echoed your frustration. The reality of what just transpired crashed over you like a wave, your mind racing to process how everything had unraveled so quickly. The thought of what could’ve happened back there sent a shiver down your spine, and you forced yourself not to dwell on the darker possibilities.

You barely had time to collect your thoughts when you heard the car door open beside you. Tommy slid into the driver’s seat, the tension thick between you. He cleared his throat, the sound heavy with unspoken words, before starting the engine. As he drove toward the gate, the landscape blurred past, and you felt a mix of anger and confusion simmering inside, wishing you could make sense of the chaos that had just unfolded.

*** ***

The drive was enveloped in a thick, tense silence, and your anger simmered just beneath the surface. Finally, unable to contain yourself, you broke the stillness. “I hate you.” The words hung in the air, laced with hurt, as you refused to meet his gaze. Tommy didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white. The silence settled between you like a heavy fog, suffocating and raw.

A deep, shaky exhale escaped your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “You know… All I wanted was to be by your side. It’s always been that way since we were kids. And then fucking France happened. I waited four years for you to come back, hoping you would keep your promise.” The memories crashed over you like waves, each one more painful than the last. “And then you return, but the Tommy I knew… he’s gone. Where is the man who would smile and laugh with me? Because the man sitting next to me right now isn’t him.” Your voice trembled, the weight of your emotions rising as you noticed the familiar sights of Small Heath approaching. Each word felt like a release, a desperate plea for the connection you once had, as the distance between you felt impossibly vast.

Another deep breath escaped your lips as tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep your gaze fixed ahead, feeling the weight of Tommy’s silence pressing down on you. No idea what he was fucking thinking. “You’re not even going to say anything?” you snapped, the bitterness in your voice surprising even yourself. A wry half-smile curled at your lips, a feeble attempt to mask the turmoil inside, while your leg bounced restlessly, dread pooling in your stomach. “First, you offered me up like some whore, and now I’m just a sicko with the claps. And you’re just… silent?”

Finally, you turned to meet Tommy’s gaze, searching desperately for any flicker of emotion, but his eyes were clouded, darkened by an unspoken storm. The silence stretched on, suffocating and heavy, and frustration gnawed at your insides like a persistent ache. You couldn’t decipher his thoughts, and that uncertainty twisted like a knife in your heart, amplifying the sense of betrayal and abandonment that had settled deep within you.

But then again, no response was a response. He wasn’t going to fight for you. As the car glided through the gritty streets of Small Heath, tears finally broke free, spilling down your cheeks. When the vehicle came to a stop in front of your home, a dry chuckle escaped your lips, a bitter sound that barely resembled laughter. “Fine…” you mumbled, the weight of your emotions crashing down as you flung open the car door and stepped out, slamming it behind you with a force that echoed your heartbreak.

“I don’t want to see you again. Don’t expect me to show up at the Garrison or the betting shop. I’m not staying here anymore. I’m done.” Your voice rose, raw and unfiltered, fueled by all the pent-up hurt and anger that had finally spilled over. Each word was a release, allowing your emotions to take control, your heart breaking a little more with every syllable, desperate to escape the pain that had become too much to bear.

When you turned away, you missed the moment Tommy finally looked at you, his gaze heavy with unspoken pain, as if you’d struck a nerve deep within him. Stepping inside your home, the familiar walls felt suffocating, a refuge turned prison. You heard his footsteps marching behind you, each step resonating like a drumbeat of dread, and before you knew it, he was inside, shutting the door with a quiet finality that echoed your own turmoil.

“No, Tommy, get out. I don’t want to fucking see you!” you exclaimed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. But he stood there, a storm in human form, his bright blue eyes boring into you, exposing every raw nerve beneath your skin. In that moment, you felt completely unguarded, as if all your defenses had crumbled.

“You hate me, eh?” he growled, a rough edge to his voice that twisted something deep inside you. “If I didn’t fucking care about you, I wouldn’t have come back.” His words hung in the air, a paradox that stung like a slap, revealing the vulnerability hidden beneath his bravado.

“Yeah, you came back for a whore with the claps,” you shot back, forcing a bitter laugh that tasted like ash. The sarcasm was a flimsy shield, barely concealing the hurt that welled up inside you. You turned away again, desperate to shield yourself from his gaze, but Tommy was relentless, following you as if he could pull you back from the brink of your own despair.

In that moment, the air between you crackled with unresolved feelings—fear, longing, anger—and you both stood on the edge of something profound and terrifying, unable to escape the truth that bound you together even as it threatened to tear you apart.

“That’s not what I meant!” Tommy shouted after you, his voice raw with a mix of anger and hurt. But you kept walking, seeking refuge in your room, where the walls felt like a fragile barrier against the chaos swirling outside. “After France, I kept myfucking promise. I came back for you!” His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken weight, desperation creeping into his tone. Suddenly, he grabbed your arm, spinning you to face him, but you instinctively whipped around your palm contacting his cheek with a hard slap.

As the palm of your hand met his cheek, a jolt of pain shot through him, and you felt it resonate deep within you. He recoiled slightly, his expression tightening in an instant, caught off guard by the force of your anger. His jaw clenched, the sting of the slap mixing with disbelief, creating a hurricane of emotions that played across his features.

His eyes flickered with a haunting blend of hurt and anger, as if he were grappling with the weight of your action and the emotions it revealed. You could see the shock transforming into something deeper—a realization that this moment marked a fracture in the fragile bond you once shared. The air between you crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken words that hung heavy between you. It was a moment suspended in time, raw and revealing, where both your pain and his collided, leaving an aching silence in its wake.

You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the turmoil inside you. Heavy breaths spilled from your lips, your body trembling slightly as the reality of what you had done crashed over you. After everything that had happened today, your instincts were locked in survival mode, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger.

“I did what I had to do, and I’m here now… I’m here with you, aren’t I?” Tommy’s voice was a low growl, but it only deepened the chasm between you.

“T-that doesn’t change anything, Tommy,” you shot back, your voice quaking with pain. “Today, you proved to me that everything we’ve been through was all for nothing.” The words felt like knives, your throat tightening with each syllable, the weight of your anguish making it hard to breathe.

“Y-you never cared about me! If you did, you wouldn’t have left me behind—four years ago, and even now with Billy Kimber! If you hadn’t shown up last minute, God knows what could’ve happened!” You shouted, each word laced with raw emotion, your body trembling as the memories flooded back, threatening to drown you.

Your stomach twisted in knots, the hurt and betrayal surging through you like a tidal wave. It felt as if every moment of longing, every ounce of hope had been crushed under the weight of his absence, leaving you feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable. In that moment, the room was charged with unresolved pain, your hearts colliding in a desperate struggle for understanding and connection, even as you felt worlds apart.

Tommy’s jaw tightened, muscles coiling like a spring, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white, a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. “You think I don’t care about you?” he spat, his eyes ablaze with a fierce mix of anger and hurt, as if your words had struck him at his core. He stepped closer, closing the distance until his face was only inches from yours, the heat radiating between you both almost palpable.

“Do you really think I didn’t care when I saw you at the races? I told you to leave because I needed you to be safe! But you’re so bloody stubborn that you couldn’t take a hint!” His voice was low and intense, each word a jagged edge, revealing just how deeply your actions affected him. “You think I didn’t care when I stopped Kimber from hurting you?!” His tone sharpened, rising with the weight of his frustration, the raw emotion spilling out in waves.

“I care about you! I’ve always cared about you, I never stopped!” He struggled to rein in his voice, the intensity softening slightly as vulnerability flickered across his features. The fire in his eyes began to dim, replaced by a haunting sincerity that made your heart ache. You could see the pain behind his anger, a deep well of feeling that he fought to keep hidden.

In that moment, it felt as if the air around you crackled with unspoken truths, both of you teetering on the brink of something profound. The tension between you was electric, filled with the weight of all the hurt and longing you had both carried, leaving you breathless and trembling, caught in a maelstrom of love and regret.

Your gaze softened as you stared at him incredulously, the silence between you growing heavy and suffocating, pressing down on your chest. He was so close that your head spun, every detail of his face etched in your mind—the fire in his eyes slowly giving way to something more tender, his lips mere inches from yours.

“Then why?” you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper, barely breaking the tense stillness. “Why do you keep me out of things and act so cold towards me?” The question hung in the air, your voice trembling, the weight of your hurt spilling into every word. You sniffled gently, trying to regain control of your ragged breathing.

“Because at the end of the day, you made your choice… I see how you see me. I understand that war changed you, that it was hell for you.” Each revelation felt like a tender wound, exposing the vulnerability you both carried. “I don’t expect you to be the same, but…” You paused, shaking your head in frustration, tears welling up despite your efforts to hold them back. “I can’t be here anymore, not with you. It hurts too much.”

The admission felt like a raw, aching truth. “It’s like no matter how hard I try to reach out to you, you just seem to pull further away from me. Clearly, nothing I do is good enough for you, or maybe I’m just not good enough for you. I don’t know anymore… You don’t need me.” A quiet sob broke free from your lips, the dam of pent-up emotions crashing down around you.

As the tears fell, you felt exposed yet strangely liberated, the weight of your feelings pressing down on you. His gaze softened, and you could see the battle within him—his desire to reach for you, to bridge the distance that had grown between you. You turned your face away, feeling embarrassed, but in that moment, the air between you crackled with a charged intimacy. It was a moment teetering on the edge, where both of you stood vulnerable, hearts laid bare, longing for connection even amidst the pain.

Tommy’s hardened expression softened when he caught the vulnerability in your eyes, a flicker of understanding passing between you. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as if gathering strength, and his voice turned gentle, almost tender. “So you think you’re not what I need?”

He stepped closer, closing the distance that felt like an ocean between you. As he reached out, his hand gently cupped your cheek, drawing your blurry gaze back to his. “Have you ever considered that I don’t care about any of that?” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace. “If you want to help me or not, I don’t care. As long as I know that you’re here, then I can keep going… alright?”

Now, both of his hands cradled your cheeks, his thumbs brushing softly over your damp skin, each touch igniting a warmth that spread through you. “I see you, love. I see how hard you try.” His gaze held yours, fierce yet tender. “I just don’t want you to see me. I was… I am scared. Scared that what you see in me now might not be what you want anymore.” The honesty in his voice made your heart ache, his vulnerability laid bare before you.

“And when I’m scared… it’s unfamiliar to you, but not for me. You can hate me, but I am not letting you go.” His voice was slightly raspy, thick with emotion, and in that moment, the air felt charged with intimacy. You could feel the weight of his fears intertwining with your own, creating a fragile bond that pulled you closer.

As you stood there, enveloped in his gaze, you realized that despite the chaos and hurt, there was a deep connection between you—one that was worth fighting for. In that shared silence, filled with understanding and longing, it felt as if time stood still, and you both held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, love could still find its way through the cracks.

“Tommy…” you uttered his name shakily, your voice trembling as your mind struggled to process the torrent of emotions his words had unleashed within you. You wanted to believe him, but doubt clawed at your heart. What if he was just manipulating you? What if he was simply taking advantage of your feelings? After everything that had happened today, forgiveness felt like an impossible bridge to cross.

You shook your head slightly in his hands, the gesture filled with a mix of confusion and yearning. Your own hands rested gently on his chest, trying to create some distance, a barrier against the vulnerability that threatened to overwhelm you. “No… Tommy, stop… just stop…” you whispered, the softness of your voice belied by the turmoil roiling inside.

But even as you spoke, you could feel his heart beating steadily against your palm, each thump echoing the unsteady rhythm of your own. It was a tangible reminder of the connection between you, the warmth radiating from him drawing you in despite your reservations. You felt everything—the heat of his skin, the intensity of his gaze, the pulse of his heart under your fingertips—and it both comforted and terrified you.

Tommy shook his head, refusing to accept your response, a fire burning in his eyes. “I won’t stop,” he said hoarsely, stepping even closer, closing the distance until the air between you felt electric. “Not until you understand how goddamn serious I am… The moment you stepped away with Kimber, I knew I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

His hands reached for you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your face to ensure your gaze stayed locked on his. As he spoke, his fingers traced the delicate line of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. “You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice low and possessive, each word hanging in the air like a promise.

The intensity of his presence surrounded you, his thumb brushing softly across your bottom lip. Your heart skipped a beat, a jolt of electricity coursing through your body at the intimacy of the moment. You could feel the heat radiating from him, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon, and for a heartbeat, the world outside faded away.

In that gaze, you saw something raw and vulnerable, a deep longing that mirrored your own. It was as if he was offering you a glimpse into the depths of his heart, revealing a passion that he had been holding back. You felt the tension between you thickening, a palpable connection that drew you closer despite the walls you had tried to build.

“Tommy…” you breathed, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. The fear and doubt that had clouded your mind began to wane, replaced by the undeniable truth of your feelings. In that moment, you realized that you were standing on the precipice of something transformative, the potential for healing and understanding woven into the very air you shared.

“You belong with me. And I'm not letting you go, understand?” He leaned in closer, so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. “You try to leave, 'll follow you. You try to hide, I'll find you. You try to fight me, I'll pin you down, and make you understand that you're mine.” He says in a low tone making you walk backwards, you can tell that he can sense the change in your exterior, how you were crumbling underneath his gaze, his body pressed against yours now towering over you.

You took a few steps back until your spine pressed firmly against the wall, a quiet gasp escaping as you glanced over your shoulder, then back to him. The traces of tears on your cheeks faded into a faint blush, warmth spreading through you as your heart raced in your chest. The pressure of his body against yours sent your thoughts spinning.

You lifted your gaze, soft and flustered, meeting his eyes just inches away—close enough that your noses brushed, his warm breath grazing your lips. “I…” you stammered, struggling as your mind filled with thoughts of only him. “Do you believe me?” he whispered, his voice low and smooth, each word wrapped in velvet.

The longer you stared at him, the more real it felt—Tommy was letting his guard down with you. This was the closest you’d ever been to him, and for the first time, you could see the vulnerability, worry, and frustration swirling in his striking eyes. You had never seen him like this before. It was as though he finally felt safe with you, like he did all those years ago. “I believe you…” you replied softly, but before you could say another word, he pulled back just a little, his gaze unwavering.

His fingers traced lightly along your jaw, down to your neck, following the curve of your collarbone. You knew he could feel the rhythm of your pulse racing beneath his touch, the steady, primal beat of your heart answering to his presence.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his voice low and velvet-smooth. He moved closer, pressing himself against you even more firmly, pinning you fully against the wall. His hand slid to your hip, his thumb grazing the soft skin exposed at the top of your dress, sending a shiver through you. Every sense was heightened, your mind hazy, caught in the warmth of his body, the intensity of his voice, and the way he held you right where he wanted you. Love and desire surrounded you completely-you were his, just as he was yours.

Your hands found their way to his biceps, fingers tracing along his muscles as you leaned into him. "Damn you, Tommy..." you muttered, voice soft, half-cursing, half-pleading. "Not letting me go... and you can't just say things like that..." The words escaped you, resistance fading as you surrendered to the moment, feeling yourself sink deeper into him, unable to fight the pull he had over you.

"You're damn right I'm not letting go," he answered, his voice a deep, possessive growl. "Trust me, from the moment I saw you... when we found each other... I knew. You've always been mine, and I don't give up what's mine." The intensity of his words made your fingers tighten around the fabric of his suit, pulling him closer. He leaned in, his lips brushing from your ear down along your jawline. He nipped at your skin, tasting the faint saltiness, before trailing down to the sensitive spot at the base of your neck. A silent gasp escaped you, legs threatening to buckle, but his body pressed firmly against yours kept you steady, pinned against the wall in his unrelenting hold.

The temperature in your body began to rise, overwhelming you with a burning desire for him that you could no longer control. Tommy's lips grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses from the base up to your collarbone. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, pulling you even closer against him, as if he wanted to merge your bodies into one.

Your mind became a haze, thoughts dissipating as your body instinctively moved to close the gap between you. You drew his face from your neck to yours, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that ignited every nerve in your body. You couldn't hold back your longing; this was everything you had wanted for so long, and there was no turning back now.

Driven by a need for more, you lifted one leg and draped it around his hip, wanting to feel even closer as your body pressed against the wall. Tommy responded immediately, his hands sliding down to your thighs, gripping you tightly before lifting you up. You found yourself completely pinned against the wall, your bodies flush against each other, lost in a moment that felt both electric and timeless.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you, drawing a breathless moan from your lips. One of his hands tangled in your hair, holding you captive, while the other gripping your thigh tightly, supporting you as he lifted you effortlessly. Your heart raced in your chest, fluttering with excitement as your kisses grew more feverish, each movement igniting a fire within you.

The sensation of his tongue brushing against yours sent shivers of bliss cascading through you, and you wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him closer. You wrapped your legs completely around his waist, wanting to feel every inch of his warmth invade your being. In that moment, the world around you faded into a beautiful blur; nothing else mattered but him. You could feel the depth of Tommy's devotion, cutting through your lingering doubts and the pain that clouded your mind. He was here, completely present, and that was all you needed.

The sounds of your moans seemed to ignite something deep and primal within Tommy, awakening a possessiveness that made him even more fervent. He deepened the kiss further, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily, claiming you as his own. His hands roamed across your body, feeling every curve and contour, as if he wanted to make you entirely his.

Another gentle moan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as heavy breaths tumbled from your trembling form.

When he finally broke the passionate kiss, his lips trailed down your neck once more, leaving a path of hot kisses and gentle bites across your sensitive skin, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you.

"Tommy..." you whispered his name almost desperately, your fingers tangling in his raven tresses, pulling him closer.

With your free hand, you allowed it to slither between your bodies, driven by an intense need to feel him. You fumbled with his belt, your fingers trembling with anticipation and longing, desperate to bridge the gap between you.

Tommy only grunted against your sensitive flesh, his hips shifting patiently as your fingers fumbled with his belt. You could feel his hips pressing more firmly against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing between your legs.

"Say you're mine," he urged, his voice hoarse and filled with need, sending shivers down your spine.

"I-I'm.." you struggled to whisper, intoxicated by the intensity of the moment, your body aching with arousal. "I'm yours," you finally breathed out, your words barely a whisper, but filled with conviction. Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear, igniting another wave of desire within him.

With a gentle tug of his hair, you pulled his face back up to yours, pressing your lips hungrily against his. The kiss deepened once more, your bodies melding together as if they were meant to fit. In that moment, nothing else existed; it was just the two of you, lost in the overwhelming need for one another.

A deep groan spilled from Tommy's lips, his need matching yours, a visible shiver coursing through his body that sent your mind spiraling into haziness once more. "You don't know how much I want you," he breathed against your lips, his voice thick with longing.

"You have me..." you replied, breathless and trembling with bliss as you managed to undo his belt between kisses, feeling the heat radiating off him. "I love you, Tommy..." you murmured mindlessly against his lips before pulling back to place gentle kisses in the crook of his neck, savoring the taste of his skin.

At your words, he only growled in response, the sound low and primal. Your soft gasps and moans prompted his hips to jerk forward subconsciously, as if instinctively trying to get closer to you. You whimpered at the sensation of his restrained erection pressing against your clothed, aching core, the friction igniting a fire of desire deep within you. Each movement only fueled his hunger for you, pushing both of you further into this intoxicating moment, caught in a whirlwind of passion and yearning.

You didn't fully comprehend the weight of your confession until you heard his response, the words igniting a fire within you.

:..I love you," he murmured huskily, the admission wrapping around your heart and making it soar in your chest. Suddenly, you felt achingly alive, every nerve ending tingling with exhilaration. Your hands gripped his body once more, the realization of what you had longed for crashing over you like a tidal wave. You could hardly contain the tremors of bliss that coursed through you at the sound of his words; they were all it took to send you spiraling.

His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the tautness of his body, driven by unrelenting desire. His breath came in ragged gasps, mirroring the urgency that surged between you. The friction was electrifying, an intense reminder of how much you both craved one another.

"Bed... the bed." you whispered breathlessly against his skin, your voice barely above a gasp as you gestured to the bed behind him. You wanted nothing more than to come undone with him, to surrender to the moment that had finally arrived.

The urgency clawed at you; you couldn't wait any longer.

He captured your lips in a fervent kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a low, possessive growl. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you effortlessly, and you gasped softly against his lips as he carried you to the bed.

Without breaking the kiss, he laid you down gently, his body pressing down over yours.Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, not wanting an inch of space between you. "I need you, love," he whispered urgently, his voice rough with desire.

"Me too, Tommy, me too.." you breathed, breaking the kiss just long enough for your hands to move with a mind of their own. In a surge of passion, you tore open his white button-up shirt, the buttons scattering as his chest was revealed.

With swift fingers, you slipped off his tie, leaving his muscular form bare before you. Your hands roamed freely over his body, tracing every line and contour, as if trying to memorize him through touch alone. He settled himself between your legs, leaning back slightly as he gazed down at you with an intensity that sent shivers through your core. In that moment, the world felt small, as if it existed solely to witness the depth of this passion.

You watched as his gaze darkened with unrestrained desire, a shiver rippling through him before he leaned back down to claim your lips in a kiss so heated it left you breathless. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting you deeply, and a soft whine escaped you, your eyes fluttering shut as he seemed intent on savoring every part of you.

His hands moved with urgency, stripping away your clothes with a feverish impatience that matched the thrum of your heartbeat. The cool air hit your bare skin, making you shiver as he slid your dress from your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor along with the rest of your clothing. Your body, now exposed to him, bore goosebumps that prickled across your skin as his hungry gaze roamed over you.

Breaking the kiss, his mouth began its descent, trailing hot, wet kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and along your shoulder, each touch igniting sparks that seemed to set your skin alight. Unsteady breaths spilled from your parted lips, your body arching instinctively toward him as he continued his worship. Every kiss he left seared into you, sending tendrils of warmth spiraling through your veins. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping him closer, silently urging him never to stop, to keep grounding you in this moment that felt as eternal as it was fleeting.

When his gaze finally settled on your exposed form, you felt a delicate shiver ripple through you, the intensity of his eyes making your heart pound. He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight, his gaze full of reverence and want. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire, each word resonating deep within you. His hands moved tenderly over your body, exploring your curves and tracing every line and dip of your skin, as though committing each detail to memory.

Your own hands roamed over him, gliding from his solid biceps to his strong back, feeling his muscles shift beneath your fingertips. The sensation made your breath hitch, and you couldn't hold back any longer. "Tommy, please... I can't wait," you whimpered, your hips beginning to grind against him, feeling the hardness of his arousal pressing through his unfastened pants. The friction sent a soft moan tumbling from your lips.

"I know, my darling," he murmured, his voice low and rough with restraint as he struggled to keep himself in check. "I want you too... so much." His body trembled, a reflection of his own barely contained desire, and he shifted, pressing his hips against yours with purpose. The hot, intoxicating friction between you sparked a whine from your lips, which only served to fuel his own need, his hands gripping your thighs possessively to pull you closer still.

The intensity grew, each touch, each whisper making the ache in you nearly unbearable. His groan mingled with your soft cries, the sound vibrating between you, creating a rhythm of shared longing and building passion. In that moment, all you knew was him, his touch, his warmth, as you both lost yourselves to the unrelenting pull of each other's desire.

Your breathing grew heavier, each breath a testament to the desperate ache building inside you. Your hands moved instinctively, fumbling to push down the last of his clothing, and as you slid his boxers down, a groan of satisfaction escaped him, low and guttural.

"You want me so bad, don't you?" he murmured, his voice a husky blend of amusement and need, watching you with an intensity that made you shiver. He reached down to help, quickly shedding the last of his clothes until he stood before you, fully exposed.

The sight of him left you breathless— his dick hard and heavy, curving slightly, the tip glistening with anticipation. The sight alone made heat pool low in your belly, a rush of desire that nearly left you dizzy. You bit your lip, feeling a wicked pull, a need to taste him, to finally feel him in your mouth. It only felt wrong to not finally be able to suck on his cock.

Reaching out, you let your fingers trail up his thighs before wrapping your hand gently around him, feeling the weight of him in your palm. You looked up, meeting his darkened gaze as you leaned forward, eager to lose yourself to this shared desire, to feel him completely under your touch.

"Yes, I can't wait... I need you so badly," you breathed, voice barely a whisper as the heat of the moment took hold. Without hesitation, you slipped off your underwear, letting the last barrier between you fall away. Then, in a bold move, you guided him onto his back, your body moving to straddle him as you settled on top, now fully bare and exposed to each other.

"Let me do this first," you whispered, a gleam of mischief in your eyes as you shifted down between his legs. Leaning forward, you let your fingers wrap around his hard length, feeling the weight and warmth of him in your hand. Without another moment's pause, you lowered your mouth to him, tasting him with the first swipe of your tongue against his tip.

A low moan escaped you, savoring the taste of his pre-cum as you took him deeper, your lips enveloping him completely. Every movement was slow, deliberate, as your tongue swirled and caressed, your own desire stoked with every sound that escaped his lips. He shuddered beneath you, his hands finding their way into your hair, gripping gently, as if he, too, was lost in the pleasure of this shared surrender.

Tommy let out a deep, guttural groan, his eyes falling shut as he surrendered to the sensation, his head dropping back onto the pillows with a soft thud. His hand drifted down, fingers tangling into your hair, a gentle but possessive grip that urged you to continue, and the way he tugged at your tresses sent a shiver through you. You could feel him throb between your lips, his reactions only fueling your own desire.

You opened your eyes, glancing up to drink in the sight of him-his chest rising and falling, his face softened in sheer ecstasy. The sound of his groans was music to your ears, a confirmation of just how deeply you were affecting him. It sent another wave of warmth flooding between your thighs, and with renewed fervor, you moved your tongue faster, savoring every reaction, every tremor beneath your touch.

Your free hand drifted over his abdomen, tracing the hard lines of his muscles, then down his thigh, reveling in the heat radiating from his skin. He was completely yours in that moment, and you were determined to make him feel every ounce of your devotion.

With your cheeks hollowed, you took him deeper, slurping him in a greedy rhythm that made a shiver race up his spine. His head tilted forward, his gaze meeting yours, and the sight of him-his jaw tight, his nose flaring, and breaths coming in heavy, uneven bursts-was enough to set your heart racing even faster. Every inch of his expression was carved in pleasure, his features softened yet intense as he succumbed to the sensation.

"Fuck... your mouth feels so good..." he groaned, voice thick with need, fingers tightening in your hair as he held you firmly, yet with a tenderness that only made you sink further into the moment. You parted your jaw a bit more, taking him as deeply as you could, breathing steadily through your nose, feeling him fill you completely. Your tongue traced along his cock, swirling and savoring each inch, each throbbing pulse, until you were wholly intoxicated by his taste and his sounds, eager to drive him to the edge.

His hand reached for yours, his fingers finding and intertwining with yours in a tender gesture that made your stomach flutter. The warmth of his grip grounded you, intensifying the moment as you focused solely on bringing him pleasure. With every soft squeeze of your hand, you could feel how close he was, his body responding in subtle twitches, his breathing growing ragged as he hovered on the brink.

Just when you thought he might let go, he gently tugged your head back, his hand still tangled in your hair. "That's enough, love... I don't want to finish yet," he managed, voice thick with restraint. His chest rose and fell in uneven waves, each breath catching as he struggled to control himself. The way he looked at you-eyes dark and brimming with desire— made your pulse race, knowing that he was holding back, wanting this moment to last, wanting you for longer.

A faint pout graced your lips, your lipstick slightly smudged, glistening from the traces of him left behind. Undeterred, your hand continued its languid strokes along his length, savoring the way he pulsed in your grasp. Each subtle throb drew another low groan from him, his head tilting back, his restraint visibly tested. "Why not?" you murmured, your voice laced with a dazed disappointment. "I want to taste you." The plea hung heavy in the air, and though you could feel the hunger building in him too, his resolve held firm.

"Because," he growled, voice low and tense, "I want to make it last. If you keep going, it'll be over before I want it to be." His hand closed around your wrist, halting your movements with gentle insistence, his grip both a command and a confession of how much he was holding back.

A playful defiance sparked in your eyes as your hand slid to rest on his thigh, your fingers pressing in softly. "Don't act like you don't love watching my lips around your cock, Tommy." The words, a whispered challenge, hung between you, and the way his gaze darkened promised that he'd be making you pay for every teasing word.

Tommy's breath wavered, his resolve faltering under your touch. "Oh, believe me, I do," he replied, voice rough with desire, "but I have other things in mind for tonight."

He released your wrists and sat up, pulling you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. Your heart raced as your bodies pressed together, his hands firm on your waist. The intensity of the moment stole your breath; you were finally here with the man you'd loved for so long. Each glance and touch held the weight of your history, and you could feel it in his grip, the promise of never letting go.

Your arms draped around his neck, foreheads touching as his hands glided down your sides, tracing the delicate curve of your ribs before settling on your hips. He gripped you tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh, igniting a spark of heat that coursed through you. You shifted your hips slightly, feeling the tension build between you, both of your hot breaths mingling in the air as you locked eyes.

Tommy positioned himself at your dripping entrance, his gaze intense and filled with longing. The world around you faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you in this charged moment. Each heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of how real this was. He was here with you, and you could feel the weight of that truth grounding you, binding you in this passionate embrace.

As if Tommy could sense your racing thoughts, he kissed you again-deeper this time. His tongue swept into your mouth, igniting a soft moan from your lips as waves of bliss coursed through your body. He pulled you closer, your bodies flush against each other, the heat radiating between you making your heart race. You could feel the warmth and firmness of his body pressed against you, and it only intensified your craving for him. Each kiss deepened the connection, each brush of his skin against yours sending sparks of desire spiraling through you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

His hands roamed over your body, each caress possessive and hungry, as if he aimed to explore every inch of your skin, claiming you as his own. "Are you ready, darling?" he murmured against your lips, his voice low and hoarse with need. You broke the kiss but kept your face close to his, breathless with anticipation. "Yes… Tommy, please," you implored, your tone almost a whine. A smirk curled on his lips at your eagerness. "Such a needy thing," he teased lightly before guiding your hips down, causing you to sink onto him with a soft whimper. The sensation of him stretching you filled you with bliss, satisfying that deep ache within. Tommy released a guttural groan, pausing for a moment as you both reveled in the way your bodies molded together, a perfect fit that felt both overwhelming and intoxicating.

"You feel so good.." he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements. Each thrust made you gasp, your body clenching tightly around him. "Oh, fuck, you're so tight... so wet. Of course your cunt is perfect, just like I imagined." The filthy words spilled from his lips, igniting a fierce blush across your cheeks. Your hands gripped his shoulders, unable to contain how your body responded to him, clamping down with a vice-like grip that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

Instinctively, your hips began to rock against his, moans escaping your lips in unsteady bursts, fueled by the urgency of your movements. "O-Oh my god..." you whimpered, breaths heaving as you leaned back slightly, desperately craving more of that delicious friction. Each thrust sent you spiraling deeper into a haze of ecstasy, the world outside fading away until there was only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment.

"Yes, just like that, love..." Tommy panted, his icy blue eyes wild with desire. "You're doing so well, my darling. Keep going.." His words sent shivers down your spine, and long moans poured from your lips as you felt a familiar tension building in your stomach. Each thrust pushed him deeper, and you knew that if he kept talking to you like this while slamming into your cervix, you were teetering on the edge of bliss.

Tommy leaned back, laying against the bed, yet his hands remained firmly on your hips as you began to bounce against him. Each movement allowed him to sink deeper, and you couldn't help but release a loud cry of pleasure. The echo of wet flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, a beautiful symphony that only heightened your arousal as you coated him in a new layer of wetness. "F-Fucking hell, Tommy.." you sobbed, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated, riding him relentlessly as you chased that peak. Your nails dug deeper into the flesh of his shoulders, each stroke requiring every ounce of strength left in your trembling legs. "I-I'm close, I'm close," you whimpered, overwhelmed by sensation as his hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your rhythm and driving you further toward ecstasy.

"That's it," Tommy growled, his gaze locked onto you, reveling in the sight before him. His hands shifted from your hips to your swaying breasts, grasping them tightly and rolling your nipples between his fingers, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"Let me feel you come for me, love.." he demanded, his voice rough with need as he noticed the struggle on your face. With that, he began to buck his hips upward, fucking you fast and hard, his grip on your breasts unyielding.

Each thrust hit the deepest spots within you, awakening sensations you didn't even know existed.

The way he rubbed against your swollen clit sent you spiraling, causing you to sob louder in bliss, breathless as the air was stolen from your lungs. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" you cried out, the tension in your stomach growing unbearable. And just when you thought you couldn't take any more, it snapped, your body tightening around Tommy as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling and gasping. His low groan resonated in your ears, a testament to the pleasure you both shared in that intoxicating moment.

You felt your mind ascend into an euphoric high, closing your eyes as bliss washed over you. But Tommy wasn't done yet. In an instant, he flipped you over, pinning you beneath him. As he pulled out for a brief moment, a soft moan escaped your lips, your body still sensitive. A primal growl erupted from his throat as he lifted your legs, resting them on his shoulders before slipping back into you. Your body tensed slightly as you slowly began to come down from your high, the overwhelming sensations flooding back.

"T-Tommy..." you called out his name weakly, your eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him. The sight of him above you, driven by raw desire, sent shivers down your spine. Your body was trembling and utterly spent, the last orgasm still lingering in your system like an electric current. Yet, there was a hunger in his eyes, a fierce determination that made your heart race anew.

For Tommy, seeing you so undone, so utterly wrecked, sent a shiver down his spine. "There's more where that came from..." he grunted, determination igniting his every move. He began where he left off, his lips kissing a path down to your calf, igniting a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Then, he slammed his hips back against yours almost ruthlessly, causing your body to bounce against the mattress.

A rush of sensations overwhelmed you— pleasure and pain intertwined, and your back arched in response, cries of ecstasy spilling from your lips. "I know, love, I know... Just a little longer... Fuck.." he breathed out, his voice raw and filled with need as he maintained a relentless rhythm, snapping into you with a ferocity that left you gasping for breath. Each thrust drove you deeper into the haze, making every moment feel electric as you succumbed to the overwhelming intensity of it all.

The new sensation from this angle took Tommy's breath away, driving him to fuck you more roughly and deeply. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head as you gripped the sheets beneath you, unable to control the screams escaping your lips, your body trembling in response to his relentless pace.

Everything became so intense; the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in this euphoric struggle. Tommy's free hand gripped your hip tightly, anchoring you in place while the other held your leg, pulling it closer as he thrust into you. Each powerful movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through both your bodies, the heat between you mounting unbearably.

His breath grew ragged, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with your cries, creating a primal symphony that echoed throughout the room. You could feel the tension building once more, a sweet, intoxicating pressure coiling within you as Tommy lost himself in the rhythm, driven by the need to take you to the edge and beyond.

The way your body felt against his, the sound of your voice-whimpering and gasping-drove him to the brink of madness. Each thrust made his dick throb inside you, eliciting soft whines from your lips as your body tightened around him. He moved in and out of you with a primal ease, the pleasure building between you. "You've always been so perfect for me," Tommy gasped, his voice raw with need. His movements grew uneven, the urgency mounting as his own release drew near.

His hand, which had been gripping your hip, slithered down between your legs, fingers finding your aching clit. When his thumb began to rub against it, you yelped loudly, your body shuddering in response. The overwhelming sensation was nearly too much to bear, leaving you breathless and begging for more, caught in the intoxicating waves of pleasure he was drawing from you.

"You're going to cum for me again? Fuck... like I said, so fucking perfect. I'm right there with you; l'm gonna cum, love..." Tommy groaned, his hips moving even faster against you. Each thrust sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to sob out once more. Your head spun as the sensations overwhelmed you-his relentless pounding and the rhythmic pressure of his thumb on your clit ignited a fire within you.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, Tommy!" you cried out, feeling your orgasm approach with no warning. It hit you like a wave, crashing over you and leaving you squirming beneath him, but he held you firm, guiding you through the peak of your release. His movements became frantic, breaths turning into labored gasps as he neared his own climax.

Tommy released a guttural growl, his body tensing, every muscle straining as he surrendered to the pleasure. Words escaped him, replaced by raw, primal sounds as he teetered on the edge, both of you lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your connection.

"I'm cumming," he gasped, his voice guttural and raw. "And you're going to fucking take it..." His words sent shivers down your spine, making you whimper weakly. Your mind was so hazed with pleasure that you couldn't muster the strength to respond. With a few more powerful thrusts, Tommy shuddered, finally reaching his climax. He spilled his hot cum inside you with a satisfied groan, igniting a wave of warmth that washed over you. Another soft whimper escaped your lips as you felt the intimate flood within you, your heart racing wildly in your chest. Gently, he placed your legs down before pulling out, leaving you both breathless, bodies entwined in the aftermath of your shared ecstasy.

Tenderly, Tommy laid on top of you, resting his head against your chest, sighing contentedly as if being in your arms was his safe haven. You sweetly ran your fingers through his hair, both of you catching your breath after the intensity of your escapade.

"Did you mean it?" you asked, your voice raspy from the moans that had escaped your lips. Tommy lay still for a moment, tensing slightly, the weight of your question hanging in the air.

"Yes..." he answered quietly, his body gradually melting into yours, bringing a sense of wholeness that enveloped you both. This moment would be etched into your memory, a sacred experience to cherish for the rest of your life.

"I've always loved you..." he added, the sincerity in his voice filling your heart with warmth.

The air around you felt electric, thick with the unspoken bond you shared. You pulled him closer, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest, a comforting reminder of his presence.

"Then let's make this real.."

***

It has finally been finished— poured all of my sweat and tears into this. I hope you guys enjoyed this! thank you guys for reading!

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sl-newsie · 10 months ago

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My biggest strength is my biggest curse.

Imagination.

For the rest of my life it will plague me.

Writing stories of passion and romance that will never be real.

Never can be real.

I spin tales of love and in doing so I doom myself for thinking I could ever be the lucky character in my own story.

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cinnxmxngxrl · 3 days ago

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“Camden’s Sin”

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Shelby!Reader

Summary: You were a Shelby working in your family’s business. You tried to convince yourself that it was just that, business. But Alfie Solomons wasn’t just business, not when he had you bent over his desk.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: intense smut, minors DNI, unprotected piv, filthy language, oral(f!receiving), rough sex, creampie, reader is Tommy Shelby’s sister

A/N: Again, english is not my first language, so sorry if any mistakes throw you off. I’m planing to do several more parts of this (please tell me if you have any request, this is my second time writing).

⸻

Your brother trusted you. For some reason, you were good with numbers—that was a fact. And you were good with people, probably because they all saw you as the innocent and youngest Shelby sister, but you were smarter than any man in the room. They underestimated you. That’s why you got sent to Camden Town almost every week. That, and because Alfie Solomons was utterly obsessed with you. Tommy found it convenient, really, since it always gave you the upper hand in every deal. Alfie simply couldn’t resist you.

You never thought anything of it. Yes, Alfie flirted with you—crude and blunt, filthy sometimes—but you were sure of his intentions. Just a game to piss your brother off. So you dismissed his banter.

The morning air was thick in Camden. It always was. You walked through the bakery like you owned the place, weaving through the towering barrels and busy working men until you reached his office. You didn’t even get a chance to knock. His voice came through the door, rough and immediate.

“Get in.”

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air reeked of rum and cigars. He was there, of course—seated at his desk, leaning back in the chair. Sleeves rolled up, revealing strong, tattooed forearms. His beard was thick and wild as ever.

“Well, bloody hell. The Shelbys sent me an angel today, eh?”

“You knew it was me coming, Alfie.”

“That I did. Every week, like a sharp clock, you are,” he grinned. “Lookin’ like fuckin’ sin, you do.”

You sighed. You knew all his lines by now. He’d used them a thousand times already.

“Let’s talk business, yeah?”

“What? No hello? No how’ve you been, Alfie? No I’ve missed seeing your face?”

He twitched his jaw when you stayed silent, completely ignoring his advances once again.

You tried your best to talk numbers, to finalize the new distribution routes. But it was almost impossible with the way his eyes were trailing over your body—lazy, deliberate, like he was undressing you with every glance.

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” You were pissed now.

“Well, forgive me, yeah? It’s fuckin’ hard to focus when you’re lookin’ like that.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, smirking. “You do it on purpose, you do. That dress, that mouth painted red like bloody temptation itself.”

“This isn’t a bloody game, Alfie.” You warned him, trying to stay cool and composed—even while he was practically eye-fucking you across the desk.

“Course it’s not a fuckin’ game,” he said, voice low. “I want you. And yeah, yeah, before you say it again—I know you’re Tommy’s sister. I don’t give a fuck whose sister you are, right?”

“You’re crossing the line. Stop it.” You were trying hard not to flinch, not to blush. Trying to seem unimpressed.

“Oh, am I crossing the line?” His eyes dropped to your legs. “I’ll stop it when you stop sittin’ there with those… those fuckin’ legs crossed tighter than a nun. Pressing your thighs together since the moment you got here. Probably the same way you press them every night thinkin’ of my mouth.”

He smirked, proud of the reaction he managed to pull from you.

He had you now. He bloody well did. And it pissed you off that he was so damn observant, that he noticed everything.

“Fuck you.”

“God, please.”

Your cheeks burned—with anger, yes, but with something deeper than that. Something dangerous. Something like desire.

“You’ve mistaken my tolerance for interest, Alfie. If you want to keep doing business with the Shelbys, then you fucking behave,” you hissed.

“Business?” he scoffed. “Treacle, the only thing I’m gettin’ from business with the Shelbys is fuckin’ blue balls. Havin’ to stare at you every fuckin’ week without being able to touch you the way I want.”

“Are you done? Done saying all the… filth that’s inside your mind? You’re a pig.”

“Done? I’m nowhere near done.” He leaned back, eyes gleaming. “Next time you come here, I’ll tell you what I want to do to you—page by page—like a fuckin’ scripture.”

You stood up, turned away without another word, and walked straight out of his office. Just like that. Gone. Leaving Alfie cursing under his breath.

⸻

The truth is, you should’ve told Tommy. Should’ve told him that Alfie crossed a line, so he’d send someone else. But you didn’t.

No matter how hard you tried to stay away from that man, there was an invisible string pulling you toward him.

You wore black that day. High-necked. Buttoned all the way up. But when you walked into Alfie’s office, the first thing you saw was him—waiting for you with a little old leather notebook in his hands.

He didn’t say hello. Didn’t greet you like most days. He just opened the notebook and looked at you.

“I made you a promise, right? And I’m a man of my word.” He tapped the cover with a grin. “Fuckin’ poetry I wrote for you.”

“You think I came here to hear your filth?” you said, sitting across from him, arms and legs crossed.

He ignored you completely. Cleared his throat. Adjusted his glasses. And began to read from the first page.

“You come here all proper, all buttoned up, pretendin’ to be holy. But I’d get you against my desk anyway, with my hand under your tight little skirt, as you moan my name like a fuckin’ prayer.”

He turned the page.

“You’d tell me to fuck off—’cause you love to pretend you don’t want me. But when I feel your thighs squeeze around my fingers, I know it’s all lies.”

Another page turned.

“I’d put my mouth between your legs, eat you until you can’t remember your fuckin’ name. Make you scream so loud your brother in Small Heath would hear you.”

“And I’d fuck you from behind, right on this desk we’ve signed a hundred papers on. You’d beg me not to stop. In fact, you’d beg me to go harder, ’cause—”

“Stop.” You cut him off. Your voice soft, but sharp.

You felt the heat pooling low in your stomach. Felt your undergarments dampen. But you didn’t show it. You stood up, hands trembling, legs unsteady.

“You think you’re clever? Think I’ll melt because you wrote all your filth in a book like some fucked-up priest?”

He stood too, walking around the desk toward you with slow, measured steps. “Maybe. Tell me—is it workin’?”

“You should be locked up.” You should’ve slapped him. Should’ve run. But you didn’t. You stayed. You listened to every word.

“Maybe,” he whispered, closing in. “But I’d find a way out. Just to find you.”

He was towering over you now. So close you could smell him—cigars and rum and sin.

“I should take what I want right now,” he murmured, voice rough. “Should bend you over my desk and do every fuckin’ thing I wrote in that notebook. Everything you’ve been denyin’ me.”

Your knees buckled. Your breath hitched.

“But I won’t, treacle. And you wanna know why?” His voice dropped to a growl. “Because when I do—yeah?—you won’t be walkin’ straight for a fuckin’ week. And it’s gonna be your choice.”

“My choice?” you whispered, your voice barely there, feeling his eyes devour you.

“Yours. You’ll come back here tomorrow. Not for business. Not like a Shelby. You come back for me.”

Somehow, your legs carried you out of his office. Out of the distillery. Back to the car waiting for you outside.

⸻

The moment you stepped inside Alfie’s distillery the next day, you knew it—this would be the last time you ever walked out of here untouched.

You made your way into his office, and like always, he was already expecting you. Leaning back against his desk, arms folded, eyes on you like he’d been waiting all fucking day. He looked as irresistible as ever.

“You’re late,” he said.

You checked your watch. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you’re about twenty fucking meetings late for what I really want.” His voice was low, husky. “Lock the door.”

You obeyed without thinking. As you stepped closer, his thumb grazed your throat—rough, calloused fingers surprisingly gentle.

“You want to hear it again? Page by page? ’Cause I’ve written a thousand more.”

“No,” you breathed, “I want you to show me.”

He groaned—and that was it. Restraint fully vanished. He grabbed you and crushed his mouth against yours, desperate, hungry, all tongue and teeth as he yanked your head back and devoured you like a man starving for something only you could give, with the need to own you.

You moaned when he shoved you against the desk, one hand on your throat—holding, not squeezing—while the other dragged your dress up.

No knickers. He swore.

“Fucking hell… You woman… you’re trying to kill me, are you?”

Before you could reply, his hand was already between your thighs, feeling the heat, the wetness.

“Oh, you’re so ready for me, ain’t you? Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He growled—and then dropped to his knees, right there on his office floor. Because there was only one reason Alfie Solomons got on his knees, and that was to eat cunt.

“Alfie—” you began.

“Shut up. Let me read my scripture,” he rasped. Then his mouth was on you—no patience, no mercy.

His thick beard scratched the inside of your thighs, but all you could feel was the way his tongue worked you open. Lazy circles over your clit turned into relentless strokes as he devoured you like you were his first hot meal after the war.

He pulled back for a second, just to look at you.

“Tastes fucking divine.” He gave one long, filthy lick. “Like fucking salvation.”

“Oh God—God—” you whimpered.

“No, treacle, the Lord’s got nothing to do with it. This is all me. So say my fucking name.”

“Alfie… Oh, Alfie…” you moaned, hands buried in his hair, grinding shamelessly against his mouth. He latched on your cunt harder, tongue ruthless going through your slick folds, sucking your clit in the right way. fingers gripping your thighs to keep you from flying apart.

And then—you broke. You came in seconds. Hard. Loud. Messy. Your whole body shook, and you would’ve collapsed on the floor if it weren’t for his strong arms holding you up.

He stood, his beard glistening, soaked in your fluids. Eyes dark as the night, wild. He didn’t wait a second—his hands were already unbuckling his belt.

“You ready for page two?” he growled. “’Cause I’m still fuckin’ hard. And tired of waiting.”

You nodded, It was all you could do, you were speechless, breathless.

He grabbed your body forcefully, turned you around, and bent you over his desk, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades, pinning you down like he’d envisioned a thousand times.

He spit into his hand, stroked himself rough and fast, like the world was about to end. And then—

He slammed into you.

You screamed his name, gripping the desk so hard your knuckles went white. He was huge, and if that wasn’t enough, he was brutal with his unforgiving thrusts that had you seeing stars and the whole fucking galaxy.

He pounded into you so hard you didn’t know if he loved you or hated you, hands bruising your hips, balls slamming against your ass over and over.

“Fuck—fucking—” he choked out, and you realized that this was the first time you’ve ever seen Alfie Solomons struggle to find words. “You trying to kill me? Squeezing my cock like that with this tight little cunt.” He smacked your ass, hard.

All you could do was whimper, pathetic little whimpers that came out of your mouth as he continued to dive into you.

The room was full of it—all of it—the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of the desk under your body, your muffled cries, his snarling breath mixed with all the filthy words that came out of his mouth.

“Custom-fucking-made for my cock, you were.”

“You feel so good… so wet and hot and tight for me.”

“Look at you, listen to you—moaning like a fucking whore for me.”

He was feral for you. He had turned into a beast like never before. Because even if he had his fair share of women in the past, no woman had ever made him feel like this, not a single one of them had ever felt as good as you did right now, It was all he had ever dreamed of, and more.

And you—you—were taking it, it was all you could do, cause you were built for this. No one ever fucked you like a real man should, no, that was something only Alfie could.

That sharp sting built in your belly and then it snapped—and you came again, harder this time, clenching so tight around his cock he cursed in Yiddish. You didn’t know what he said, but the way he said it made your whole body throb.

“I’m gonna fill you up… so bad it’s gonna fucking drip out of that pretty pussy all over your thighs yeah? You want that?”

“Yes… please, Alfie… fill me up.”

He pulled your hair back, arched your back against his chest, and fucked into you harder. Once. Twice. The third thrust—he buried himself deeper and he came with a guttural growl, spilling himself inside you as he moaned your name into your shoulder.

He stayed there inside you, holding you close, his lips at your throat, whispering things that made you melt, and kissing your shoulder softly, as if trying to comfort after he was the one to wreck you

When he finally pulled out, you felt it—his cum, mixed with your juices, dripping down your thighs. He shoved it all back inside with two fingers, stuffing you full of him again.

“Tell me you’ll come back next week, yeah?” His voice was oddly soft now.

You barely managed a whisper. “Try not to go mad until you see me again.”

He smiled against your skin. “Now that, treacle… that’s a promise I can’t make.”

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons x shelby reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders smut #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy x you

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 7 days ago

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Dirty Secrets (Alfie Solomons)

Description: Y/N and Alfie sneak around behind Tommy’s back until it comes out that Y/N wants to run away with a boy.

Word Count: 1,963

Author’s Note: Send in requests!!!

Alfie couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he and Tommy talked, thinking he was here for business, though he wasn’t. Alfie was seeing Tommy’s little sister and was here for a date with her. They’ve been going out for a month now and Alfie planned to ask her to be his girlfriend, without Tommy’s knowledge. Tommy truly had no idea that Y/N was dating anyone let alone Alfie. Alfie was older than Y/N but 20 years but that didn’t stop either of them from making it happen.

“We can’t tell my brothers.” She warned as they kissed. Alfie smirked at the young girl, “Got it.” He said before they went back to kissing. That was 3 weeks after they had been going out and if Tommy would be mad about that, he’d be in rage to know that they had sex for the first time last week. Alfie wasn’t paying attention to a word that was coming out of Tommy’s mouth, he was too busy thinking about Tommy’s sister’s mouth around his dick instead.

“Alright, I am leavin’ got plans and shit.” Alfie told him. Tommy didn’t think much about it even with Y/N being gone when he got back home. Y/N was always out with her cousins and brothers that Tommy didn’t find it weird that when he called her name, she didn’t answer. Y/N was meeting up with Alfie, looking in every direction so she wasn’t caught. They had been meeting up at the same spot every time before leaving in his car.

It wasn’t like they could be seen out in public together without gossip. “‘ello love.” Alfie greeted her and she pulled him into a kiss. Alfie kissed her back before they pulled away and got in his car. “Nobody saw ya?” He asked and she nodded. “Nope.” She said and he was thankful. “Wouldn’t wanna kill yer brother.” Alfie joked and Y/N rolled her eyes. Truth be told she had never really thought about what would happen if Tommy found out. Would it really come down to killing? She shook that thought off and focused on the man in the car with her.

Alfie actually had business with Tommy as he made his way into town. Even with that he was happy to see his girlfriend even if he couldn’t hug or kiss her. Y/N hid her smile as Tommy told her that Alfie was going to be here today for some business. She was super happy to see her boyfriend even if she couldn’t hug or kiss him. Y/N was in Tommy’s office when Alfie walked in, hiding her smile she greeted him as if she hadn’t had him inside of her before.

“Y/N you may leave now.” Tommy told her and she got up with an annoyed sigh and left his office. Alfie kept his eyes on Tommy as she left, not wanting to give away anything. Y/N waited for what felt like hours for the meeting to be over, “Finally.” She said out loud as the two left the office. Tommy looked at his sister, “Something wrong, Y/N?” He asked her. Shit. “I need to go get flowers and you need to take me.” She tells Tommy and he sighs.

“Alfie will take you. I am busy.” He tells her and both her and Alfie light up at the situation. Tommy was giving her over to him without realizing. “That was easy.” She said as they got in his car. “He has no idea ‘bout us so of course it was.” Alfie said as they drove to get flowers. “I was thinkin’ you should tell Tommy that ur moving to college and come leave with me.” Alfie said and she turned to him shocked. “What?” She asked and he smiled. “Yeah tell ‘em ur movin’ and that way he won’t get suspicious of us.” It was a good idea but how long could they keep up this secret for? Tommy has to know eventually. “Okay, I will think about it.” She tells him as she observes the flowers before grabbing some.

The thing was that Tommy wasn’t stupid or naive, Y/N was 24 and never once thought about leaving the family business but was randomly thinking about college? “College? Y/N, you work here with the family.” Tommy told her as they ate breakfast the next morning. “I know and trust me Tommy I love it here but what if there are bigger things out there for me?” like Alfie’s cock, she thought.

Tommy shook his head, “What is it some boy you wanna run away with?” Her eyes widened at his question. She has been lying to him this whole time but this felt different. “Tommy, that’s ridiculous.” She tried but Tommy could tell. “I want you to be happy, Y/N but before you try to get up and leave with a boy let me meet him.” He says and she looks at him confused. “You would let me leave with a guy?” She asked. “No.” He said and got up. Too good to be true, she thought. “But I need to meet him and tell him that you aren’t running away with him.” She rolled her eyes as she followed him into the kitchen. “Tommy, that’s not a good idea.”

“So Tommy wants to meet you.” She told Alfie as they walked into his house. He looked over at her like she was crazy. “Meet me? Fuck do ya mean meet me? He knows me, we do business together.” “Alfie, he wants to meet my boyfriend. He saw right through the college thing.” She says trying not to laugh at his reaction. He looks down for a moment, “So it’s now or never, eh?”

Tommy couldn’t wait to meet this guy and scare him away. His sister wasn’t running away with anyone let alone a guy that didn’t know what he was doing. Tommy has this guy pictured in his head and couldn’t wait to laugh at the poor kid’s reaction, when finding out that he was messing with the peaky fookin’ blinders. Y/N, on the other hand, was very nervous and shaking as the minutes went by.

Just half an hour before Tommy would find out that his business partner was fucking his little sister. Alfie drove to Tommy’s place with no feelings about it, he believed that he could take Tommy if it came down to that but knew that Y/N was freaking out. Tommy was very protective over her and would never approve of her being with someone 20 years her senior. “He’s here.” Y/N told Tommy seeing Alfie pull up.

She sighed as her brother walked into the dinning room waiting for her boyfriend to come inside. Y/N gave Alfie a small nervous smile as he walked into the house, “Things will be alright.” He tried to reassure her but that wasn’t working. She wanted to puke as they walked into the dining room, she couldn’t even look at her brother. They all sat down in silence for a second before Tommy spoke up, “So you brought Alfie to scare him too?” Tommy asked with a small smile. Both looked at him confused, “Or is he a cover up because you don’t want me meeting him?” Both could work but Alfie was highly offended, “Are you sayin’ that your sister would never date me?” He asked and Tommy shrugged before pouring a glass of whiskey for himself.

“My sister is smarter than that.” Maybe this was worse than he believed it. “Tommy-” “Y/N, I won’t kill the guy. But you aren’t leaving with this guy either.” He told her and she sighed. Alfie was pissed, “It ain’t some random guy, it’s me.” He growled at his business partner. Tommy looked at both of them, they were serious but Tommy couldn’t accept that. “So my sister and my business partner?” He asked as he grabbed his gun. Y/N’s eyes widened and Alfie raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Tommy-” He held up his hand, silencing her. “How’d this happen?” He asked Alfie. “Tommy this is-” “I am talking to him, not you.” He said to her, she sighed and sat back as Alfie answered the question.

The story was sweet but Y/N knew that Tommy didn’t care. In fact, Tommy didn’t look pleased by the meet cute moment they had. “And it didn’t cross your mind that she’s 20 years younger than you and my fookin’ sister?” The last part he yelled to Alfie, who wasn’t phased by this. “She’s an adult.” Tommy chuckled sarcastically at his answer. “She’s young, you’re not. You are my business partner and when things were to turn south what you would kill her? Use her so I don’t kill you?” Alfie was even more mad that Tommy assumed that he would even put his hands on her like that.

“You sound ridiculous, Tommy.” She tried but he wasn’t having it. “Not talking to you, Y/N.” He growled at her before looking back at Alfie. “She’s right, Tom. You sound ridiculous. I love her.” Y/N looked over in shock at his words, they hadn’t said that to each other. “Well that’s too bad then,” Tommy said as he stood up. “You aren’t living with him, Y/N. He’s dangerous.” Y/N stood up, “And you’re not? Tommy this is crazy! He’s not a bad guy.” She pleaded to her older brother. “It had to be my business partner?” He asked her, clearly hurt by this. “It had to be the guy that I am not sure I even trust all the way and is 20 years older than you?” Y/N walked closer to her brother, “Tommy, we don’t get to choose who we love. I would never purposefully do that to you.” He looked at his sister, forgetting that Alfie was right there.

“But you did, Y/N. You went behind my back for months with him.” “Tommy, you would have killed him.” She yelled and he sighed, pulling his gun out. “Maybe, but I’m definitely killing him now.” It was like slow motion, the scream she let out as he pulled the trigger, her running in front of Alfie taking the bullet instead, Tommy and Alfie yelling out as she collapsed to the ground, the bullet in her shoulder. Both Men collapsed to the ground with her and she groaned, “Seriously, Tommy?” She groaned, causing both men to laugh.

Tommy and Alfie both had tears in their eyes, worried that she might be dead. “You shouldn’t ‘ave done that love.” Alfie told her. “Yeah well I wasn’t letting my brother kill you.” She groaned as Tommy put pressure on the wound. “I’ll call Polly.” Tommy said and Alfie replaced his hands, pushing down. “Think he’ll approve now?” She asked and he chuckled. “I hope so.”

Y/N was reading a book on her couch as her shoulder healed, Tommy was off somewhere and Alfie refused to leave her side. Thankfully, Tommy didn’t argue with him. “Need anything?” She looked over at Alfie who sat next to her, “A kiss.” She said and smiled before leaning in to kiss her. At the perfect moment, Tommy comes home, “You guys can do that at your own house, not here.” Tommy interrupts them and Y/N looks over at her brother, shocked.

“Our own house?” She asked, softly. He nodded, “You guys are gonna be living together, right? Do it there.” He tells her and she smiles. “You’re okay with it?” She asked, happy. He shrugged, “Maybe someday but he has proved that he loves you so I have to deal with it.” She squealed and got up to hug her brother, “Thanks, Tommy!” She mumbled against his chest. “Don’t thank me yet, I still have another bullet in that gun.” “Hey!”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #tom hardy #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #alfie solomons fanfic

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followsfrankiep · 1 month ago

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Haunted (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Chapter 8 - Gods & Debts

TW: Smut, Explicit Words, Oral Sex, Mentions of substance abuse and alcoholism, etc.

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: OKAY. THEY'RE BACK. My og babies! Let me just tell you that this is MY favorite chapter of this series. Can't say the best but my FAVE for a reason. You may read this, if you're interested to know why, even if you haven't read the first 7 chapters. Letting u know that the word 'love' is overused in this chapter bc come onnnnn they deserve it after everything that happened.

Previous chapter

It had been a couple of weeks since the harrowing night when Alfie had rescued Izzy. The first few days were the toughest, Alfie had been tirelessly taking care of her, ensuring she had everything she needed to heal. He made sure her wounds were cleaned and cared for, gently icing the bruises that painted her skin, making sure she was eating, and always—always—being there when she needed him. When he was needed at the bakery, he reluctantly left her under the care of Ollie, not wanting to leave her alone, thinking she might do something to hurt herself.

She was slowly recovering, both physically and emotionally. Her bruises were fading, and her cuts were starting to heal, but the emotional scars ran deep. She often found herself lost in thought, her mind replaying the events of that night and Alfie would feel his chest ache at the sight. It ate away at him, the fact that there was something weighing on Izzy that he couldn’t fix with his own hands. Alfie wasn’t used to feeling helpless since he always found a way but, this was different. It was something he couldn’t touch, something he couldn’t fix with his hands no matter how badly he wanted to. One way he tried to help was by keeping her occupied. He wasn't wrong. He brought her to his office, claiming he needed her help sorting out some paperwork. Of course, they both knew he could manage it himself, but it wasn’t about the work—it was about giving her a moment to breathe, to focus on something other than her dark state of mind.

During the day, it seemed to help, even if just a little. Alfie couldn’t help but feel a flicker of relief as Izzy settled into work, her pen moving across the scattered papers on his desk. That desk had always been his, a space that felt almost sacred, but now, sharing it with her, didn’t bother him at all. If anything, it gave him a sense of ease. The way her brow furrowed in thought, the faint concentration on her face—these were glimpses of the young woman he knew and loved.

But she wasn’t completely lost in her distractions. Even as she scribbled away, she always seemed to know when Alfie’s temper was about to boil over. When one of his men fumbled or said something that ticked him off, her hand would slip across the desk to catch his. She’d give his hands a squeeze, her eyes never leaving the papers in front of her. It was her way of calming him down. And somehow, it worked every time.

She was still his Izzy.

But the evenings were the hardest. On the ride home, the quiet would envelop them, slowly slipping back into that dark place. At night, she’d lie with her back to him, and he’d find himself staring at her silhouette, feeling the urge to reach out and in the end, he always held back with his hand retreating. On the nights when he realized she was still awake, he’d slip out of bed without a word. Downstairs, he’d warm a glass of milk, and she’d take it with that faint, warm smile of hers. It wasn’t much, but in those moments, he felt like he was doing something.

And for now, that had to be enough.

Alfie Solomons was over the moon having the love of his life back in his arms, though it was hard to say who was more relieved—him or his bakers. The men practically sighed in unison when they saw her strolling beside their boss again, muttering silent prayers of thanks to any god that might be listening. The prodigal bear tamer had returned.

Sunday morning. They just had breakfast and Izzy barely touched hers. She just finished her coffee and excused herself to have a breather at their porch. It wasn't long until Alfie smelled the smoke of what he called "cancer sticks" from where she was sitting.

Ain't fucking eating, just coffee and cigarettes in the morning. He thought, and made his way back to the kitchen.

He muttered to himself as he sliced up yet another round her daily fruit. "Right, apples, bananas… universal fucking medicine, innit? Fruit fixes everything, they say. Fucking Jack Nelson's lucky to be rotting under ground, yet my woman's out there, sulking and staring. Hell, I can’t take it anymore."

He put his pearing knife down a clatter, and stormed out onto the porch, the plate of fruit in his hands like it held the answers to every problem in the world. "Toss that fuckin' thing away, love," he began, "this ends now. You’re gonna eat these bloody fruits, and we’re not arguin’ about it."

Izzy blinked at him, her cigarette resting lazily in the ashtray beside her, picking up an apple slice, and popping it in her mouth. "Here, I’m eating. You happy now?"

She did not have any energy to argue with this old yapper right now so she fully obliged with what he said. He's had enough taking care of her anyway.

"Better." he replied, plunking himself down next to her on the bench. His intense gaze settled on her, studying the bruises fading across her arms and the cut that was healing on her cheek. "Talk to me, love."

Whatever is going on inside her mind was driving him nuts as well. Izzy sighed, her fingers brushing against the edge of the ashtray as she avoided his gaze. "It’s not that simple, Alfie," she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion. "I had a plan, you know? A way to get out of this shit of a life I was born into. But now… now it’s all fucked and stuck. I can’t move forward, and I can’t go back. I’ve been away from Birmingham for so long, I don’t even know how to return."

Alfie can't believe what he just heard. It infuriates him knowing that she was still considering going back to that shit hole. His grip on the plate of fruit firming as he processed her words. "Birmingham?" he repeated with evident disbelief.

"You’re not seriously thinkin’ about goin’ back to those fuckin’ Shelbys, are you? After everything that happened—after everything we’ve been through?"

"I have to," she shot back, her dark eyes finally meeting his. "I’m almost done, Alfie. I’ve been working on this for a long time, and I can’t just walk away now. I need to finish what I started."

Alfie’s expression darkened and growled. "And then what, eh? You finish your master plan, and then what? You leave? Go back to Brooklyn? Is that it, Izzy? You just fuckin' pack up and go?"

She didn’t answer and looked away. Alfie’s chest clenched at the thought of losing her again. She already slipped out of his hands when she was just in Small Heath, now there's a probability he might not see her again if she goes back home to America. He set the plate of fruit down on the empty space beside him, his hands reached for hers.

"Don’t do this," he said softly, his head tilting as his brows pulled together, and his sharp blue eyes searched hers. "Don’t leave me again. I just got you back, love. Whatever this plan of yours is, whatever you think you need to do—it’s ain't more important than what we have, yeah? It can’t be."

Izzy’s gaze softened, her fingers curling around his as she let out a shaky breath. She was not expecting him to be vulnerable at this moment.

"Alfie," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Y—"

"Camden is your home, love," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Don’t go."

Alfie Solomons.

If you’d asked her a few months ago what mattered most, she wouldn’t have hesitated—her plan was everything, her purpose, the reason why she went to Birmingham. Now, it was different. The thought of being away from the man in front of her was a pain she couldn’t face. People live on borrowed time, and unfortunately, the two of them are trapped in the scarcity of it. She's decided she would rather spend what little time she had in this world with Alfie than waste it chasing something that no longer felt as important.

Her plan did matter, but Alfie Solomons mattered more.

Izzy's fingers tightened around his and her dark eyes searching his face as if trying to find the words she couldn’t quite say. It was him who plead her to stay, and for a moment, she felt the storm inside her quiet just enough to let something else through.

Without a word, she leaned forward, her free hand brushing lightly against his beared as she pressed her lips to his softly, but as Alfie’s hand came up to cradle the back of her head, the kiss deepened, feeling him nibble on her lower lip gently. When she pulled back, her eyes fluttered shut, and she rested her forehead against his, her body and mind calming down. His fingers running through her locks and, his own breathing uneven as he poured every feeling he's been holding back in that kiss.

"You’re alright... We’re alright. Just stay with me, yeah?"

"Okay," she whispered and swallowed hard, nodding as her lips found his again, this time slower, steadier, as if sealing her promise. "Okay, Alfie."

Alfie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his grip on her hands firm but gentle. His other thumb brushed over her knuckles, and he closed his eyes, letting the relief wash over him. He pulled her closer, his arms enveloping around her. "Alright, love. You’re mine, yeah? No more runnin’ off. Just you and me." he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Now finish your fruit." He added.

The absence of Isobel Russo did not go unnoticed—least of all by Michael Gray.

It was Finn who had last seen her, slipping into the car of a stranger they later identified as none other than Jack Nelson. But under the terms of the agreement struck between Alfie and Tommy, the latter was tasked with keeping things in line. Like it or not, every member of the Shelby family was forced to move forward with business as usual.

Yet, as ever, that was far easier said than done.

Polly, ever the matriarch, found herself at war within her own home. Michael, consumed by rage and desperation, had taken to wrecking anything within arm’s reach, his frustration boiling over into self-destruction. It fell to Polly to drag him to work, forcing him to focus on business and away from the growing anguish of his girlfriend’s disappearance. It was an uphill battle. With his emotions spiraling unchecked and his worsening addiction, Michael was slipping further into an abyss no one seemed able to reach. Maybe it was his guilt and conscience, but her words from their last fight about her coming to Small Heath for him kept replaying on his mind, and now she's gone. He knew they were not okay, and he even asked her to consider mending their relationship.

Did she leave? Or was she taken away? Is she dead or alive?

Arthur was aware of Alfie’s involvement that night, he saw how he chased after Izzy speaking with Finn and him. Upon hearing this, Michael stormed to Camden to question him.

Arriving in his bakery, Michael bursted the door open in fury. The Alfie remained seated at his desk, leaning back in his chair with his fingers intertwined together, watching the scene unfold. His eyes flicked up, finding Michael Gray storming in, fists clenched looking ready to explode. It had only been a day or two since the night of the attack, wherein he took Izzy. He wasn’t a fool—he knew someone from the Shelby clan would come knocking soon.

Surely, he’d been waiting for it.

"Well, bloody hell," Alfie muttered, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the desk, looking amused. "If it ain’t the lad himself. You come all the way from Small Heath just to dent me doors, or you gonna use your mouth to talk, eh?"

Michael’s hands slammed against his desk, moving his face closer with his gaze sharp. "Where is she?" he hissed.

Alfie’s hand moved lazily to scratch at his beard, pretending to think hard. "Now, you’ll have to be a bit more specific there, sunshine," he replied, feing indifference. "'cause I’m sittin’ here with no bloody clue what—or who—you’re tootin' about."

"Don’t play games with me, Alfie!" Michael spat trembling in anger as his hands rattle the papers and glass resting on the surface. "Izzy. I know you were there that night! Arthur said you came after them. You know something, don’t you?"

The mention of Arthur’s name made Alfie’s brow furrowed, just slightly, though his demeanor remained calm as he leaned back in his chair again. The oldest shelby brother was indeed there, keeping him away from strangling Finn regarding Izzy's whereabouts. He tilted his head, giving Michael the slow, deliberate look of a man considering all his options.

"Now that’s a serious accusation you’re throwin’ about," Alfie said lowering his voice, his blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "You think I’ve got your girl, do ya? What—you reckon I’ve got her tucked away somewhere, just for laughs, eh?"

Behind Michael, Arthur entered the room with a quieter and calmer presence. He pulled the door closed behind him, muttering a curse under his breath before stepping forward. His hat was tugged low over his face, and hands inside the pockets of his coat. "Michael," Arthur barked. "Hold your fuckin’ temper, will ya? You’re makin’ a scene."

Michael rounded on him for a split second, his chest heaving, before turning his rage back to Alfie. "You went after them!" he hissed, ignoring Arthur’s attempt to rein him in. "Arthur said you went out that night—you know something. Where the fuck is she?"

Arthur exhaled heavily, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I saw him leave, alright," he admitted, his voice strained. "But listen to me, Alfie—it’s got to be straight with us. We ain’t here to start a bloody war, mate. Tommy’s clear on that."

These people have no idea how willing he was to go to war just for the young woman situated in his home at the moment. He's already got Jack Nelson's blood in palms, surely he could take out a couple more if needed be.

The faintest flicker of annoyance crossed Alfie’s face, and he set his palms down against the edge of the desk. "Right," he muttered while drumming his fingers. "I’ll tell you what I do know, yeah? I did go out that night. Heard there's trouble. Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about. But as far as your girl’s concerned… didn’t see her. Didn’t speak to her. Don’t know where she is, mate."

Michael’s was not at all convinced and feeling his body tense up, slowly losing his patience. "And that’s the truth, yeah, Alfie? ‘Cause if you know more than you’re lettin’ on, mate, it’s only gonna make things worse for everyone involved."

Alfie’s brow arched, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward in the faintest smirk. "What d’you want me to say, eh? I know you lot think I’m a magician or somethin’, but I can’t pluck answers outta thin air. She probably went back home... if she's still alive."

"If I find out you’re lying—"

"You’ll what?" Alfie interrupted, his voice soft but no less threatening. He leaned forward slightly, meeting Michael’s glare head-on. "You come stormin’ into my office, slammin’ my desk about, waggin’ your finger like you’ve caught me in some grand conspiracy again, yeah? Or maybe you’ll bring your cousin along to try and twist my arm, eh? Whatever you’re thinkin’, lad, let me give you a bit of advice: Camden don’t play by Shelby rules."

Arthur saw how serious Alfie looked as compared to his playful demeanor earlier. He is not one known for empty threats so his hand clamped down on Michael’s shoulder, squeezing hard enough to make the younger man flinch. "That’s enough," Arthur firmly said. "Tommy’ll want this handled clean, not with you makin’ a fuckin' mess."

For a moment, Michael lingered, his glare locked on Alfie’s impassive face. Then, with a sharp jerk of his shoulder, he shrugged out of Arthur’s grip and turned toward the door. His eyes darted around the room as though searching for something—anything—that might betray Alfie’s claim, but there's none. He didn’t say another word as he stormed out, slamming it behind him with enough force to rattle the hinges.

Arthur stayed for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on Alfie with a mix of suspicion and weariness. "If there’s more to this," he muttered, "you’d best hope you’re on the right side of it, mate. ‘Cause if you’re not…"

"Ya'll come back with some damn gypsy pitchforks, yeah? Heard it before," Alfie said, his tone dismissive. "Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, eh? Got enough trouble without fixin’ hinges."

Arthur’s lips twitched, but he said nothing more as he followed Michael out, closing the door with a deliberate finality. Alfie sat back, exhaling long and slow as he stared at the empty room. His eyes drifted toward the window, watching their car go away.

"Peaky Fuckin' Blinders," he muttered under his breath, eyes going back to the papers in front of him. He knew Michael wouldn't stop looking for Izzy anytime soon, but he isn't planning to give her up either. Not today, not as long as he lives. He'll ensure that Camden would be a safe fortress for the woman he loves.

Tommy Shelby was a man bound by his word. He’d made a business deal with Alfie, part of his bargain in exchange for his help with the Russians, and he intended to honor it. But there was another promise, one that sat heavier on his chest—a promise to his aunt, Polly. He’d told her he’d look after Michael, no matter how far the lad veered off course. And now, those two promises were beginning to pull him in opposite directions.

When Michael came to him, wild-eyed and desperately begging for permission to return to the States to dig deeper into Jack Nelson’s shadowy world, Tommy hesitated. He knew Michael had been searching for Izzy for weeks now and he could see the torment eating away at the boy. The grief. The anger. The helplessness. It was written all over Michael’s face, in every erratic gesture and every sharp word. And yet, Tommy’s mind immediately went to the practicalities. Losing Michael now—it wasn’t just about family, it was about the sake of the company. Izzy, her operations officer, was already gone, taken by Alfie, and if Michael left too, being the next best thing, he would be forcing the few remaining hands to work twice as hard to keep things afloat.

Tommy calmly voiced these concerns to Polly in one of their private family meetings as he lit another cigarette. He expected pushback, maybe even anger, but Polly’s focus was elsewhere. Her face, lined with worry, was fixed firmly on Michael’s well-being. "Business can wait, Thomas," she’d said with an expression of evident resignation. "You don’t see it like I do. He's my son and he’s falling apart. If you don’t let him go, he’ll drown."

He wanted to argue, but deep down, he knew she was right. Michael’s torment was beyond doubt, and his obsession with finding Izzy was pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Polly’s words replayed in his mind as he weighed the decision, the cigarette burning low between his fingers. He was reminded that Michael wasn’t just another piece on his chessboard—he was family. And when it came down to it, family had always come first. That was the Shelby way.

And so, despite his many reservations, Tommy granted the request. He gave Michael permission to return to the States.

The haunt for Isobel Russo was on.

And so, the wheels were set in motion, each family member grappling with the fallout of her absence. But in the Shelby family, nothing remained unresolved for long—and no debt went uncollected.

Camden Town.

Alfie would do anything for Izzy. That was never in question. From the simplest acts of peeling fruit for her to the darkest, taking a life from her past to keep her safe, he proved it time and time again. It wasn’t just about protecting her—it was about making sure she felt untouchable, like nothing and no one could harm her again. And after their long-overdue talk, where they both finally laid bare where they stood in their relationship, something shifted. As if a heavy weight has been lifted off their chests, freeing them from all the things they’d been holding back. For Izzy, it felt like she could finally breathe again. The decision that had been gnawing at her heart for so long was gone.

She chose him. No hesitation, no second thoughts—she chose Alfie.

And for the first time, she felt like she’d chosen someone who didn’t just understand her but cherished her for exactly who she was. Alfie gave her something she’d never known before: safety. Not the kind of safety you find in locks and walls, but in his presence, his touch, his love. His bear hugs would drown the constant noise running through her mind. With him, she felt warmth, comfort—something she never had growing up. She wasn’t alone anymore. She didn’t have to be strong all the time, didn’t have to fend for herself the way she’d been forced to for so long. For once, someone was taking care of her.

Alfie knew her past, the streets that had shaped her, the fights she’d fought just to survive, how she'd weaponize herself to thrive. He knew all of it, and yet it did not faze him. To the point of him saying "Why’d you go an’ say that, eh? Changes nothin’ for me, love, not a thing.". She didn’t have to hide anything, and didn’t have to prove herself to him. She’d grown up never expecting anything from anyone, and here was Alfie, showering her with a love so overwhelming that it left her speechless sometimes. In turn, she loved him for all of it—the sciatica, the witty yapping, even his old man mood swings. But mostly, she loved the way he made her feel like she was the center of his universe.

And oh, again that bear hug of his. That was her favorite. It kept getting brought up since it wasn’t just a hug—it was a promise. A promise that no matter how fucked up things can be, she had him, and he had her. In his arms, she was Izzy. And for a girl who had spent her life believing she didn’t need anyone, Alfie had shown her just how beautiful it could be to let someone in.

He wasn’t just her man—he was her home.

After practically shoving the pasty into her hands and insisting she eat every last bite, Alfie decided it was as good a time as any to take her to the synagogue. He had some accounts to settle, and though Izzy wasn’t Jewish, he figured it was only right to bring her along. Its familiar silhouette stirring something deep in Alfie’s chest. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d stepped inside these walls. Years, maybe. Decades, even. It was quiet and solemn place, smelling like old wood and candle wax, and he lead her to sit in a pew near the back. His hands rested firmly on his cane, his gaze locked straight ahead. The unusual quiet tension that radiated from him was enough to make Izzy fidget in her seat. She leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Alfie, what are we doing here?”

He didn’t answer. Not a word. The corner of his mouth twitched—whether from irritation or some attempt at restraint, she couldn’t tell. His silence only lit a fire under her curiosity.

“Alfie,” she pressed, still keeping her voice low. “You’re awfully...solemn. It’s unsettling. What is this place?”

"Alfie..."

"Mr. Solomons..."

Still nothing. She huffed, shifting even closer, her breath warm against his ear now. "What, you’ve taken a vow of silence now? Is this some kind of elaborate cult thing you didn’t warn me about?”

Alfie closed his eyes briefly, the kind of motion that begged for patience he didn’t have. His grip on his cane tightened just enough for her to notice. “Izzy,” he muttered keeping his voice low, “If you don’t stop naggin' me, I’ll bloody toss you out here m'self.”

She leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips while pretending to be offended. “Oh... you’d never,” she whispered, shaking her head, clearly satisfied from his annoyed reaction. "I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, old man."

He let out a sharp huff through his nose, his head shaking ever so slightly. His eyes, however, remained fixed forward. "You’re infuriating," he grumbled under his breath, though she caught the faintest flicker of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

That was enough for her—for now. She settled back in silence, though her curiosity still simmering underneath. What were they doing here? She knew Alfie wasn’t much for tradition, especially not when it came to faith. With the way he lived his life, she doubted he’d been in a synagogue in decades—if ever. And yet, here they were. Living together, sharing so much already, and this was a part of him she’d never seen.

“It’s a debt,” he said simply, finally breaking the silence.

She tilted her head, confusion flickering across her face.

“A debt? To who?”

“To Him,” Alfie replied, nodding toward the front of the synagogue, where the Ark stood solemnly against the wall. "The big fella upstairs.”

She blinked, taken aback. "God?" The word came out incredulous. "You’re repaying a debt to God?"

Well. This is it.

For a moment, she stared at him, half-convinced he’d lost his mind. This is it, she thought, her stomach twisting. This is early-onset dementia. I’m gonna be stuck looking after a senile old man I love.

But Alfie’s face didn’t show any of the teasing or madness she’d half-expected. His jaw was set firm, his eyes forward, his nod steady and deliberate. “For you,” he said. "For sendin’ you back to me." His gaze softened slightly but stayed fixed ahead. "And I reckon I owe Him a nod for that. It’s about respect, yeah? You don’t take somethin’ like that for granted."

The words hit her like drums beating on her chest, leaving her both speechless and breathless. Alfie Solomons, the man who lived like he owed no one and took no nonsense from anyone, was sitting here, quietly repaying a debt to God—for her. She opened her mouth to say something, but the sincerity in his expression stole her words, instead she just bit her lip. His answer was far from she expected.

Of course he means it, she thought, her heart pounding softly. Now I feel bad.

For a while, Izzy didn’t say anything. She let the quiet of the synagogue wrap around her as Alfie sat perfectly still, his hands resting on his cane and his gaze fixed straight ahead. She didn’t mind that he had his own ways of showing emotion—it was part of who he was, and she loved him for it. But as much as she tried to stay still and respectful, the calmness of the place started to settle over her a little too well. It was warm and quiet, and the weight of the pasty she stuffed down her throat earlier was still sitting heavily in her stomach.

Before she could stop it, a yawn crept up on her, loud and completely out of her control. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as her wide eyes darted toward Alfie.

His head whipped around, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Bloody hell, are you dozin’ off?” he hissed quietly.

“No,” she whispered, though her sleepy eyes betrayed her. “It’s just... it’s warm in here. And peaceful. And, well… you did make me eat a lot of pasty before we came here.”

He gave her an incredulous look, shaking his head slowly. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, leaning back slightly. “Here I am, payin’ me respects, and you’re over ‘ere actin’ like it’s bedtime.”

She hummed softly, unbothered by his scolding as she let her head rest lightly against his shoulder. “If God didn’t want me to nap,” she murmured as drowsiness took over her, “He wouldn’t have made these pews so comfortable.”

“Bloody heathen,” he grumbled under his breath.

Even though he's annoyed, his hand shifted slightly, adjusting his arm to let her lean into him more comfortably. His hand rested against hers, and when her fingers curled around his instinctively, he didn’t pull away. Her voice softened as she mumbled something incoherent, her words melting into sleepy breaths as her body relaxed against his. Alfie stayed where he was, unmoving, feeling at peace in the silence.

This was all he wanted, wasn’t it? Just her beside him, safe and warm, with nothing pulling her away.

A man like him didn’t deserve much—he knew that. But for all the power and wealth he’d chased, this was the one thing that made him feel like he owed something back. He glanced down at her, her breathing slow and peaceful, and allowed himself the faintest smile. For years, he’d lived like God owed him for the life he’d been dealt. But having Izzy back in his life? For that, Alfie reckoned he owed God a bit more than He owed him. And, for once, he didn’t mind paying up.

Of course she wouldn't get off the hook that easily. Their drive home was as tense as his business meetings. Alfie gripped on the steering wheel tightly with his expression looking annoyed. He was obviously not speaking to her since they both got out of there. Clearly, this was his version of sulking. Izzy sat beside him in the passenger seat with her legs tucked up under her, looking at him from time to time with knowing smile tugging at her lips, finding him a bit endearing.

“Come on now,” she said casually. “Are you going to stew all the way home, or are you just going to give it to me right now?”

He let out a groan but did not take his eyes off the road. “Don’t try and charm your way out of this one, love. You bloody well know what you did.”

She bit back a laugh, shrugging her shoulders and pretending to be innocent. “Kindly enlighten me, Alfie. What exactly do you think I did?”

“You fell asleep,” he shot back gruffly. “Dozin’ off in the middle of a bloody synagogue. On me shoulder, no less, like it’s naptime for little Izzy.”

“I wasn’t asleep. I was...resting my eyes.”

“Restin’ your eyes?” Alfie’s head snapped toward her for a brief second, his expression pure disbelief before he turned back to the road. “That’s the excuse you’re goin’ with? In the middle of me payin’ respects?”

“I didn’t mean to!” she protested, though the teasing grin on her face showed her lack of real remorse. “It was warm in there. Peaceful. And I was full from the pasty—”

“The bloody pasty again,” Alfie muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “Every excuse in the book, you are. You couldn’t even stay awake while I was speakin' to God Himself..." he continued. “You’re lucky the rabbi didn’t catch you droolin’. That’d have been a right embarrassment.”

At that, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. A laugh burst out of her, unapologetic and loud, as she turned in her seat to fully face him. “Alright, alright,” she said, placing a hand on his thigh and rubbing it in slow, up and down. “I’ll make it up to you, okay? Once we get home.”

Alfie’s eyes darted down to her hand for the briefest moment, his grip on the wheel easing slightly. His eyes sharpened with a flicker of interest and his lips twitched, hinting at a smirk. She knew that look—knew exactly what she was doing. No matter how much she annoyed him, she always had a way of buttering him up. The old man didn’t stand a chance against her. And the worst part? He didn’t even mind.

“Make it up how?”

“Oh, you know exactly how.”

“Do I now?”

“Mm-hm,” she replied, settling back into her seat with a satisfied look. “Consider it my penance. You’ll feel plenty thanked by the time I’m done.”

Alfie shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. She sure is cocky about that no doubt—and annoyingly, she was always able to back it up. As the car turned onto their street, she glanced at him again, her voice softening.

“For the record, though... I do thank whoever’s out there—God, fate, or just plain luck—that I found myself you. My old, grouchy man.”

He glanced at her, his smirk fading into something gentler. “Old and grouchy, am I?” he still couldn’t resist a bit of banter.

“Sure,” she said with a mischievous grin, leaning just slightly toward him. “Let’s toss handsome into it too. You know, as the cherry on top.”

Alfie let out a low laugh as he pulled the car into their driveway. “Never thought I'd see the day I'll meet someone as snarky as me.”

“Eh. Less talking, more penance inside. Let's go.” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt with a wink.

“Whatever you say.” Alfie muttered, though his tone was warm. And as they stepped out of the car and into the house. Ever since she came back, he’d been handling her like a fragile glass, overly careful with every touch. It got to the point where she had to tell him it was okay—he could hug her, kiss her, whenever he wanted in which he did. But weeks had passed now, and though they shared the same bed, his hesitation still lingered. They haven't had sex since, and it was starting to wear on her. She wasn’t fragile. She wanted him to see that—wanted him to see her.

They did not even get to his bedroom. Izzy spent little to no time pulling Alfie into the couch and crashing her lips to his. Oh boy, they were hungry. He was laying down with his head resting on the couch cushions, and she was straddled on top of him, feeling his hard cock underneath his pants. Quickly, she took off her oh-so-modest dress she wore inside the synagogue and unbuttoned helped him strip down his clothes as well. With a use of his left hand, he unclasped her bra and threw it on the floor, pulling her closer to him, aggressively sucking and kneading her breasts.

"Mmm Alfie..."

His tongue felt so good flicking on her nipples, she can't help but breathe out a faint cry. She tugged his hair back and started kissing his jaw, down to his neck, leaving some faint marks on it, proceeding to kiss down to his chest, playfully biting his tattoos while undoing his pants. His cock sprung out of his pants hard, only to be welcomed by her wet and hot mouth slowly taking him whole, as she thirst on his shaft. Her tongue curled into a damp bed where his cock glides in and out slowly at first, until Izzy greedily draws him in deeper.

"God damn it, Izzy..." Alfie hissed in pleasure, holding her bobbing head.

She was fully engrossed in gratifying him, but choked on both his cock and her laugh, pulling away.

"W-what? Why'd you stop?" he panted, looking down on her.

Her hand wrapped around his cock which was already lubricated by her saliva earlier, jerking him off. A faint smirk curled her lips as when she saw his head fall back again. "Out of a sacred place and straight to 'God damn it'? Truly, sinful. Don't you think, honey?"

"Don't be a tease, love. Come on."

He groaned in frustration but was still amused with her remark. He was getting close to the brink and he did not want to waste any of his goodness on her palm. He held her wrist, pulling her up to capture her lips again with her arms falling on both side of his head. Without breaking their kiss, his fingers traced her panties, pulling them down hastily, her legs kicking them off the floor. Izzy still straddled on his waist, Alfie bent his knees to support her, his both hands lifted her ass up while the tip of his cock dipped into her folds, searching for her entrance, then slowly pushing in her silky wet pussy.

"Fuck.. Alfie.." she whimpered, feeling her walls stretch from his size as she push her hips down. "I fucking missed you inside me..."

"Ah, love… you’ve no..." he groaned in between words as he feels her warmth slowly consume him. "..idea how long I’ve been sufferin’ waitin’ for this—"

Alfie was in her deep, his grip on her waist tightened, and his brows drawing together as he looked at her. "Go on, then," he muttered, his tone both commanding and charged. "Show me how you pay your bloody penance, love."

Her hip started rocking forward and backward, sending them in an immediate ecstatic feeling they're both very much familiar with. She was dripping and his cock was hitting her spot repeatedly, eliciting a loud moan from her. His right hand remained the grip on her hips while his left hand reach up to her nape, pulling her down into a sloppy greedy kiss, their sweaty bodies rubbing together as she continued riding him. That lasted for a while but Izzy had to pull away from their kiss and rested her forehead on his beard, gasping for air as she pants, her hips still moving rhythmically with his hips bucking up and down. She arched her back, allowing his cock to enter her more, deeply, and graspingly.

"A-Alfie..." she whined, feeling her stomach coil. "So so fucking good..." her head tilted back and mouth agape, chasing her release. He was hitting it again and again, and she eagerly rides him more.

"Yeah? Fucking cum for me, beautiful." he reached down to her clit rubbing it in a circular motion, sending her to her edge. The closer she felt to her release, her walls clenched around him. It didn't take long until Alfie felt his surge as well. Izzy came and gushed over his cock, still proceeding to ride him.

"Fuck's sake, Isobel..." Alfie groaned when his cock twitched inside her with each release.

"Ohhhh..." Izzy was barely biting her lips, unable to fight a moan escaping from her lips as she feels his hot cum fill her up. She shifted her hips a little bit, ensuring she caught all the drippings from his cock. It felt so damn good.

Catching her breath, Izzy nestled close to Alfie, her head resting against his chest. His arm wrapped around her instinctively, holding her in place like she belonged there—and she did.

She was his.

Alfie’s hand trailed lazily along her back, his fingers brushing some strands of her dark-colored locks. "Well," he murmured, "you’ve got my blessing to sleep through every synagogue visit from now on—might even make a bloody tradition out of it."

Izzy couldn’t help but laugh softly, still catching her breath as she nestled closer to him. "So, that’s your way of saying penance accepted?"

He let out a low chuckle, his hand now resting at the small of her back. "Mm, penance accepted," he teased. "But don’t think for a second you’re off the hook, right? You owe me more than that, love."

"More?" she mimicked, raising an eyebrow. "Greedy old man, aren’t you?"

His hand slid up her back, pulling her just a little closer. "When it comes to you, I’ll take what I can get." he said. "But you’ve never been one to hold back neither, eh?" he snorted, earning a chuckle from her.

For a moment, this was it—the silent warmth she'd thank the Gods for, the kind that didn’t need words or explanations.

Izzy tilted her face up toward him, her gaze locking with his, slowly, Alfie leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a soft, unhurried kiss. When they finally pulled apart, her forehead rested gently against his, a small, breathless smile tugging at her lips.

“I love you."

“I love you too, Isobel."

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #fanfiction #peaky blinders #tom hardy fanfic #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x fem!oc #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons smut #smut #fanfiction smut #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #michael gray #tommy shelby

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i-understand-vangogh · 1 year ago

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these are my baby boys.

“i need them in a way that’s offensive to feminism” broski nation

#felix catton #saltburn #saltburn movie #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x lucy gray #the hunger games #jacob elordi #president snow

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strayrockette · 8 months ago

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A Daughter Who Loves

A Daughters Letter

Masterlist

A/N: I can’t believe I’m finally knocking this one out of my drafts! I’m so happy to no longer see it sitting there taunting me to finish it😂 hope you guys enjoy ❤️please comment, like and reblog❤️

Summary: Takes place a couple years after the initial meeting with the unnamed soldier. You’ve found a new life for yourself far away from the unresolved trauma and issues of your past.

Dearest Father,

I used to love you. I still love you. But if news got around that you were dead, it wouldn't hurt as much as losing Mother. The worst part about loving you...is knowing that we'll never be a true family.

Despite it all, I must thank you.

The pen stilled in her hand. For the first time in years, her mind had failed to slather seething words upon the awaiting canvas. Y/N’s eyes drifted to the open window of the study.

The study was a room of serene contradiction, a place where history and modernity danced together. Heavy oak bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that whispered of the past. A large, mahogany desk sat in the center, its surface cluttered with papers, a brass inkstand, and a small, framed photograph of her and Thomas Shelby. The rich, dark wood contrasted sharply with the lighter tones of the pale, floral wallpaper, giving the room an air of understated elegance.

Through the tall, arched windows, the view of Arrow House's sprawling grounds unfolded in tranquil splendor. The vast acre of land stretched out like a lush green carpet, dotted here and there with the vibrant colors of blooming flowers. The manicured lawns seemed to reach out to the horizon, framed by clusters of ancient oak and chestnut trees. A winding gravel path meandered through the grounds, leading to a quaint stone bridge over a gentle brook. The distant hum of life from the village beyond was faint, almost like an afterthought, allowing the peaceful solitude of the estate to take center stage.

The study’s window was open just enough to let in a fresh breeze that rustled the heavy, velvet drapes. The scent of earth and flowers mingled with the cool air, creating a soothing atmosphere. It was in this moment of calm that Y/N found her thoughts drifting back to her father, whose presence was now as distant as the last whisper of the city’s bustling streets.

The room was silent except for the occasional chirping of birds and the distant chime of the grandfather clock in the hallway, marking the passage of time with a gentle, rhythmic insistence. Y/N's gaze lingered on the horizon, her mind grappling with the complexities of her feelings. The serenity of the estate contrasted sharply with the turbulent emotions that swirled within her, a reminder of the painful distance between the past and the present.

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her emotions lift slightly with the breeze. For now, the letter remained unfinished, an echo of her unresolved feelings. But in this moment of stillness, she found a semblance of peace in the quiet beauty of the land outside.

Her husband, Thomas Shelby, entered the study with the quiet confidence that was uniquely his. The door swung open just enough to admit his tall frame, and his eyes, sharp and calculating as ever, softened when they fell upon her. He crossed the room with his usual deliberate stride, his polished black shoes making a subtle, almost reverent sound on the wooden floor.

Y/N, lost in the tranquil view from the window, had been sitting in the study for a while. Her thoughts had wandered to a time long past, a time when her life had intersected with the Shelby brothers.

Thomas’s presence was a welcome interruption, though it took her a moment to shift her attention from the peaceful scenery to him. He placed a warm, familiar hand on her shoulder, a touch that carried the weight of his love and the assurance of his support. His voice, though low and steady, held a note of playful affection as he spoke. “Love, are you planning on joining us for dinner with the family tonight?”

His words were like a lifeline to the present, pulling her from the swirl of past grievances and into the here and now. She looked up at him, her lips curving into a faint, mischievous smile.

“Dinner with the Shelby clan?” she teased, her eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and amusement. “Is that the same family that turns every meal into a battleground? I’m surprised they’re all in the same room at once. Last I heard, you lot were still debating over who got first dibs on my chocolate chip cookies.”

Thomas chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound that seemed to resonate with the room’s deep, warm tones. He leaned in closer, his breath brushing her ear as he spoke. “It’s not quite a battleground, though it can be lively. But I promise, it’s not all chaos. We have a few moments of civility before it all kicks off.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and unburdened. “Well, in that case, I suppose I can brave the family dinner. Someone has to keep you all in line.”

Thomas’s gaze softened, and he gently squeezed her shoulder before releasing her. “Glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want to face them alone.”

As he turned to leave, Y/N watched him go, feeling a renewed sense of connection to the life she was building with him. The letter and the unresolved emotions of the past seemed to drift away, if only for a moment, replaced by the comforting reality of the present and the anticipation of a shared future.

She returned her gaze to the window, the sprawling grounds of Arrow House now seeming even more serene in the quiet aftermath of their conversation. The promise of a lively family dinner ahead brought a new layer of anticipation to her day, a reminder of the vibrant life she was now a part of.

In her reflective mood, Y/N thought back to her time as a nurse during World War I, when her path had first crossed with the Shelby brothers. It felt like a lifetime ago, those days spent tending to the wounded in a makeshift field hospital. Each brother had come through her care, their lives touched by the trauma of war. Thomas, Arthur, and John—each had been a different story, each had left a mark on her heart.

She remembered the late nights spent in the dimly lit wards, the quiet conversations that had unfolded amidst the beeping of machines and the rustling of sheets. Thomas had been the most reserved, his eyes betraying the weight of his experiences even as he tried to mask it with a veneer of stoic bravery. Arthur had been volatile, his wounds reflecting the turmoil within, while John had been more approachable, his easy smile a rare comfort in those dark times.

Y/N had tended to their injuries with a professionalism that masked her own fears and uncertainties. In the midst of the chaos, she had been a silent witness to their struggles and their unspoken camaraderie. The war had been a crucible that tested their mettle, and she had seen firsthand the bonds that had formed between them, forged in the fires of adversity.

As she sat in the study, the weight of those memories mingled with the serene beauty of the present. The sprawling grounds of Arrow House, with its manicured lawns and distant trees, seemed like a world apart from the grim reality of the wartime hospital. Yet, it was here, in this peaceful setting, that she had found a new chapter in her life.

The juxtaposition of past and present was not lost on her. She had moved from the sterile, oppressive environment of wartime care to the warm, welcoming embrace of her new life with Thomas. The contrast was stark, yet she embraced it with a sense of gratitude and acceptance. The Shelby family, for all their complexity and dysfunction, had become a part of her world, and she had become a part of theirs.

As Y/N glanced once more at the window, the promise of the evening’s dinner seemed to symbolize more than just a family gathering. It was a testament to the journey she had undertaken, a journey that had brought her from the battlefields of war to the hearth of Arrow House. The anticipation of the dinner ahead was a reminder of the new beginnings and the connections she had forged along the way.

Dearest Father,

The man I love has given me much more than I anticipated. I no longer ache at the thought of what could have been for my former family. I no longer wonder and question if I have a place in the world. Because I have found it beside the one man who has yet to let me down.

My heart is filled with love and warmth I have never felt. My days are spent basking in affection and care that you were unable to give. I am…happier than ever.

But I wish you were here, to see the women I have become. To know that, I am loved and cared for.

Sincerely,

A daughter who no longer grieves you.

tag list: @mysticalpandora @ultimatreality @lovecleastrange @watercolorskyy @rockerchick05 @lyarr24

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darkshelbyfiction · 4 months ago

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Story Ideas

I am also looking for short story or single shot ideas.

Characters: Thomas Shelby, Cillian Murphy

Genres: Dark DDLG, CNC, Non-Con, Age Play, Loss of Virginity, Pain Play, Corruption, Dub-Con, Daddy/Little Play

I haven’t written for a while but have some time on my hands now!

Hit me with your filthiest ideas!

Minors DNI! If you don’t like these kinks, keep on scrolling.

#cillian murphy #cilliean murphy smut #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #a quiet place 2 #tommy shelby fanfic #a quiet place #oppenheimer #tom sturridge x reader

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call-sign-shark · 2 years ago

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Day 2: Cut Your Wings || Alfie Solomons x Reader

Requested by a lovely Anon 🖤

TW: Kinktober prompt- cut, dubcon, blood, inflected pain, masturbation?, enemies with sexual tension, canonical violence, dirty talk, sexual torture, kidnapping

Words: 2K

Notes: This work is a part of the Peaky Kinktober Event you can find here. Comment on the event post if you want to be tagged in the future works for Kinktober. Also this one ain't as smutty as I thought because I got carried away by the narrative?? Shark please, that ain't the goal of Kinktober??

A grunt escaped from your lips as you desperately tried to free yourself from the heavy shackles imprisoning your wrists. You moved them back and forth, then left and right, turning your hands in every position possible, and yet nothing worked. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip from them. Another painful moan echoed in the damp and dark room of the distillery in which the jew's henchmen had locked you a few hours ago. The cold metal bit your flesh again. "Fuck". When loud footsteps resounded behind the heavy wooden door of your prison, you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and prayed to God for a quick and painless death because you knew that Alfie Solomons wasn't a forgiving man. Quite the contrary, his quick temper, and frightening antics only fueled his reputation as one of the most dangerous criminals in London.

"So that's the fucking little rat my men told me about." He stated, standing in the middle of the open door, both of his hands resting on the handle of his cane and a black hat hiding one of his hazel gray eyes.

"Fuck you, fucking cunt! When Tommy will know about this y'all going to regret it!" Words passed your thoughts, spitting their venom at him and yet the man remained silent. You even wondered if he had paid attention to what you just said or if the voices in his head were louder than yours. His gaze, intense and unfathomable, was observing you attentively as if he was trying to decipher the secrets of the most unique precious stone he had even held in his palm. After what seemed to be an eternity, Alfie Solomons pursued his lips, stroked his scruffy beard, and nodded, coming to an agreement with himself.

"See, my mates here told me that Tommy Shelby had sent a few men to London, but here's the problem – He said 'men'. And not 'little girl', which is definitely what you are. A bloody and nosey little girl. Hmhm." He agreed with his own statement before walking to the dusty furniture that was leaning against one of the brick walls. Then, he took off his hat and his long dark coat, and put the cane aside before walking towards you. He stopped in front of you, tattooed arms crossed on his muscular chest. The unusual amount of greenish ink deeply engraved in his skin caught your attention for a short while, you curiously observing the pattern it formed. Of course, both Tommy and Arthur had tattoos, but not as many as the mad baker.

"Would you look at ya. Haven't you something else to do instead of following a Birmingham scumbag's orders? Like finding yourself a man or something like this, y'know. 'Cause I don't see why such a young lass like ya puts her own life into danger for Tommy fucking Shelby." As he talked, Alfie had closed the distance between you and him. He was now leaning above you, so close that his scorching breath was fanning over your skin and the hairs of his beard were almost tickling your face. "So can you tell me why? The only reason I see is that Tommy Shelby sticks his cock in you and it has magically bred some loyalty." The right corner of his full lips curled into a mocking grin when he noticed how his words had lit a fire of rage in your eyes. Bang on, he thought, "No. It's more complex than that, innit? He doesn't want you and yet you remained devoted to him in the hope that one day, maybe, he'd look at you differently. He'd look at you like a woman to fuck senseless and not a pawn of his game."

"Kill me, Solomons. Kill me now or I'll fucking cut you once I'll be out of this shit-stinking place." You hissed, baring your teeth like a cornered animal, the truth hurting you more than a gunwound. For a split second, Alfie swore you would have dug your fangs into his throat, sinking them deep until you tasted blood if you hadn't been restrained by chains and handcuffs.

"Cut me?" The baker repeated these two words, pretending to be surprised while the tone in his voice betrayed how amused he was, "And what kind of tool would you use to cut me? This?" As he said so, Alfie pulled your grey beret out of the large pocket of his trousers, holding it to have a good grip at the base of the razor blades that were sewn to the fabric. "You Peaky girl like to cut people with this right? So come on, threaten me again little bird, I dare you." He said with both of his eyebrows raised in a taunting expression.

"D'ya think you're scaring me? I'm not scared, I'm a Peaky Blinder and I'm going to make things clear again: you better kill me now because if you miss this chance, I'll fucking cut your face the next time we meet–" You didn't finish your sentence, your words replaced by a scream of pain when Alfie, without a single warning, slashed your arm with your peaky cap. Blood soon filled the gash and overflowed from it, soaking the white fabric of your shirt in a crimson stain.

"Go ahead, dove. Say it again." This time you remained silent, staring at him in horror. He had cut deep, deep enough for you to feel the sickening pulse of your own heart in the wound. Your refusal to obey led Alfie to burst into an unexpected rage. His face reddened, and his brows furrowed, casting their shadow eyes. With one strong and brutal movement, Alfie's free hand grabbed your face, his calloused fingers sinking into your cheeks until your jaw hurt. "SAY IT AGAIN AND I'LL CUT YOUR FUCKING WINGS!" He barked, a bit of spit spilled in his beard and bloodshot eyes staring at your very soul. "See, you don't stand a chance here my sweet dove. You're just a little girl playing gangsters". In an unsettling mood swing, his temper had gone quiet again.

"I'm not gonna kill you peaky girl, that would be too easy. I see your eyes, and what I see in them is that you ain't afraid of death and I reckon this is a trait I particularly fancy in someone. So what should I do with you? We might..." He made a short pause when he noticed a tiny detail he hadn't spotted before. Alfie's hazel grey eyes abandoned yours and dropped to your bosom where he could see the round shape of your hardened nipples pointing through the fabric of your shirt. Licking his lips, Alfie's iris darkened with mischief and something you never expected to witness in the eyes of an enemy – lust. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine as the baker's smirk suddenly turned into a wicked and threatening smile, "I know, dove. I know what I'm going to do with you. Everything's clear in my mind". A sparkle of pure madness enlightened his face, just like an artist struck by inspiration. With his words followed his hand, that came meeting your trembling body. His strong palm roamed all over you, the friction it created snatching a whimper from your tight throat while you understood his obscene plans.

"No, no! Please! Alfie--" You wanted to scream but you couldn't, petrified from the moment his fingers trailed down your belly and ended their exploration between your legs. The noisy juggling of the chains you produced by struggling sounded like a melody in Alfie's ears, who hummed in satisfaction at your cunt's warmth he could feel through the fabric of your trousers. His fingers pressed a bit more against your core, shooting a wave of forbidden arousal through your entire body and making your legs shake.

"You're in heat, lil' dove." He noted with an amused tone before closing the distance between your ear and his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut at the overwhelming scratching sensation of his gruff beard against your skin and the blazing blast of his breath. The room spun as you found yourself intoxicated by the fragrance of his cologne. Musky, and with a dab of cedarwood. His scent was as raw and wild as him. "I'm pretty sure you're all wet, aren't you?" He cooed in your ear. His rough fingers, applying pressure at the exact spot where your throbbing clit was, started to rub it in slow and circular motions. As much as you hated the thought of it, his skillful caresses lit a fire of desire within you, so much that you felt your own wetness soaking your panties, "How long since a man stretched that lonely pussy?"

"Don't touch me!" You growled, but as convincing as you had tried to sound convincing you still failed judging by how Alfie's brow arched. He let out a dark chuckle. Doing the exact opposite, his fingers kept fondling your sensitive bud but this time his wet and warm tongue licked your neck just like a predator would do to get a first taste of his freshly caught prey.

"Oh I'm not gonna touch you dove." The muffled sound of your cap falling on the concrete ground made you open your eyes again. You had barely lifted your eyelids when your gaze met Alfie's other hand, who was kneading his massive bulge. As afraid as you were, you could not help but let out a soft yet needy moan "I'm not gonna touch you. What I'm going to do cannot be described, no no it can't because I don't want God to hear it. What I can tell you though is that you'll never come back to Birmingham once you'll know the feeling of my cock buried deep inside you." His words' immediate effects upon you had your teased pussy clenching onto nothing and reminding you how desperately empty you were. An emptiness Tommy would never fill, "Are you thinking about him now?"

You weren't.

Alfie didn't need you to answer, for the way you brought your hips closer to his fingers and grind against them was enough. The mad baker's mouth sucked on the sensitive flesh of your neck, pinching it between his lips to leave a bright red mark on you, claiming his newly acquired property. All these sensations soon became unbearable: the friction of your shirt against your erected tits, the cold bite of the handcuffs on your wrists, and the increasingly faster rubbing of your clit destroyed what remained of your will of fighting. Never in your life you had been touched for you had always kept your virginity unspoiled for Thomas. A stupid and fruitless devotion.

You gave in to the pleasure and surprised yourself by thinking about how big Alfie's dick looked, unable to look anywhere else.

"Don't s-stop." You muttered under your breath, your climax building as Alfie kept assaulting your sweet bundle of nerves: he was nothing but gentle with it, almost hurting you with how rough he rubbed you. With your mouth parted and your breath quickening, you felt the delightful warmth of an orgasm coming but, all of sudden, Alfie stopped.

"Enough for today. We'll see if you deserve more tomorrow." He said.

If you have appreciated what you've just read please take the time to reblog and/or comment. Your reactions are the real fuel and motivation of writers.

tags: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 1 @izzy10369 @kimvolturicullen @peakyltd

#Peaky blinders #Alfie solomons #Alfie solomons x reader #Tom Hardy smut #Peaky blinders x reader #Alfie solomons smut #Peaky blinders smut #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic #Tom Hardy #Tom Hardy x reader #Peaky Kinktober #Tommy Shelby

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 9 months ago

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Wary Sailor Pt. 5 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

Summary: The Essex sinks and the crew is forced to test their luck. As Matthew's luck begins to run out, he waits for his Siren to save him.

Warnings: Shipwreck, thalassophobia, stranded at sea, abandonment, and drowning. This is a long installment but it is also the last installment of the series! Thank you for bearing with me. I think the end makes it worth it. I've been really busy so I apologize for the quality of this piece. It's sad... sorry.

word count: 3174k

Last Goodbye- Jeff Buckley 🎶

I Know the End- Pheobe Bridgers 🎵

Fear Not This Night- Clamavi De Profundis 🎶

Not proofread, sorry folks!

“Absolutely not, that is OUT of the question!” Captain Pollard slammed his pale fist against the table. “We cannot alter our course just because my second-mate says so.”

“With all due respect sir, I believe it would be a death-sentence for our crew to chase the storm just to track down a whale that seems to have something against you,” Matthew’s lip curled as he tried to keep his composure.

“I am the captain of this vessel, not you Joy. I’d like to remind you of that fact.”

“It is a fair observation, sir. The men are all worried about the true intentions behind this choice,” Owen piped up from the corner of the room.

“I don’t take orders from either of you, do you understand?” Captain Pollard’s voice was harsh as his tongue crushed against his teeth. He raised an authoritative eyebrow and Matthew swallowed.

“I have reason to believe that this will only lead to disaster, sir. It is my job to speak on behalf of my experience and the lives of the men under my command-”

“And WHO, Joy, is under my command?” The captain leaned forward and clasped his hands together. The lantern above their heads swayed.

Matthew met his eyes and clenched his jaw. Y/N’s warning swirled around in his memory like a tidal pool. How could he balance respect with advocacy? He had to talk some sense into the Captain before it was too late.

“Answer my question, second-mate.” The captain’s eyes narrowed.

Matthew unfocused his eyes on the man and swallowed down everything that he would have liked to say.

“We are, sir.”

“That is exactly right, Joy, and as captain I command you and the rest of my men to chase the storm. It will dissipate soon and in that time, we will have the whale.”

The lantern sailed across the room, smashing against the wall of the ship. The wick’s fire lay exposed and set some of the floor on fire. Before Matthew could throw anything on the fire to quell it, the ship jerked once again. The men scrambled to stay upright, their eyes met each others’ in the dark.

“What the hell was that?” Captain Pollard asked breathlessly, fear showing in his tone.

“That wasn’t a wave,” Owen whispered.

“No, it wasn’t,” Matthew didn’t have to say the word whale. They all knew.

…

Matthew grabbed his coat on the way up to the deck. Men ran around him, shouting orders and carrying rope. The harpooners prepared their weapons and watched from the railing. The shiny white back of the whale slipped below the surface a few yards out, its tail flicked up into the air and slammed down on the side of the boat. Matthew was knocked off of his feet and rolled, cringing from his sore back. Part of the sail and railing fell into the ocean below, men scrambled to stay onboard and not be dragged down with the debris. He watched helplessly as the boat started to break apart beneath his feet.

“Everyone get to the boats! Grab as many supplies as you can in case we need to abandon ship!” Matthew yelled. Owen reached his friend and grabbed onto Matthew’s collar.

“We need to get off this ship, Joy. If we stay here much longer we will have to go down with her.”

“Take your men and I’ll take mine.”

“We need to wait for Pollard’s orders.”

“Fuck his orders, come on.”

Matthew ran to the railing and helped loosen the ropes holding the smaller whaling boats to the deck. Men dropped food and drinking water into the bottom of the boat as the ship groaned and splintered beneath their feet.

There was a deafening explosion at the stern of the Essex, a plume of fire rose into the air. The men were silenced by the violence and panted, watching the fire catch quickly and begin to burn.

“She hit the oil canisters! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!” Pollard tripped across the debris-ridden deck of the sinking ship.

Pollard, Owen, and Matthew each manned a boat and organized the men into the whaling boats before they were lowered into the water. The ship burned quickly. The explosion had killed many of the sailors who had been standing on the deck. They were already a dwindled crew by the time they pushed off from the ship and rowed to a safe distance away. Matthew watched with watery eyes as the Essex sank in a fiery blaze.

…

They’d been on the boats for hours and the late afternoon sun was baking them alive. They’d connected their boats together in an effort to share supplies and keep an eye on each other. Matthew tried to push his fury and genuine shock down so that his men couldn’t see it. The whole event had only lasted an hour, ridiculously short. Everything that they’d owned went down with the whaling ship, friends too.

Matthew wiped sweat from his brow and tried not to glower at Owen and Pollard who spoke to each other out of his earshot. He looked down at his hands which were starting to turn red in the direct sunlight. The men in his boat were slouched against one another or lying at the very bottom between the slats. He caught himself thinking about that night he’d taken the Siren for the first time. Memories of fleeting risk seemed like child’s play in comparison to life-and-death decisions the sinking had prompted from everyone.

He looked out at the infinite expanse of water and tried to call her to his mind, they’d done as much before when he was drowning. Surely she could see him now, surely she would do something to help them. She knew something like this would happen, she’d warned him about it. He hadn’t even had time to try to avoid the disaster, it all seemed so unfair…

The boat beside him splashed up and down abruptly. Matthew caught his breath and watched as the bottom of the boat slapped the surface of the water as it returned to its first position. Everyone froze.

“It’s back,” Matthew whispered and as he did, the water beside him burst up into a fountain of waves. A great big eye and white blubber body surged up into the sky above him and tumbled inches away from the boats.

“Disconnect the fucking boats!” Matthew ordered and cut the ropes holding the boats together. Being connected made them a larger target and a weaker link. Every sailor pushed away and soon the four boats were separated by yards of messy waves.

The whale emerged again, this time boring into Matthew’s boat. Matthew fell back as the boat broke down the middle and men went flying. He fell into the water and pushed away from the boat so he wouldn’t get caught. Air bubbles escaped from his mouth as he opened his eyes underwater. He could see the whale swimming through the wreck, knocking men out of its path or pushing them deeper. Matthew swam to the surface and whipped his head around to clear the hair from his face. The men in the other boats were aiming their harpoons at the vulnerable side of the beast. Matthew grabbed a hold of a barrel of water to keep himself afloat. Some of his men began to resurface but most did not. Those that did each found a piece of floating debris and watched as the other men tried to kill the whale.

Matthew’s heart was beating a mile a minute and he couldn’t catch his breath. He watched as the back of the whale’s fin rose high into the sky above them, blocking the sun, and then down it went onto one of the other boats, breaking a second one. The wave created by the tail scattered the men even farther apart and sent Matthew spiraling out of control. His head slammed against the side of Owen’s boat and knocked him unconscious.

“Kill it! Kill it!” Captain Pollard nearly screeched, blood dripping from a cut on his lip.

…

Matthew came-to on Owen’s boat, nestled between people’s legs.

“Joy?” Owen’s voice pulled him from his dreamless sleep. Matthew blinked behind his eyelids and tried to speak but his throat was dry. He licked his cracked lips.

“Howw… how bad is it?” Matthew groaned and went to touch the back of his head.

Owen swallowed and looked back at the men in the boat.

“It’s really not that bad, Joy. It’s just a little bleeding and some bruising. You’ll be fine.”

Matthew didn’t feel fine. Things didn’t seem right. For instance, the men around him looked more scruffy than they had the day before. They looked older and sickly. He furrowed his brow and looked around the boat.

“You were out for a few days. I mean you woke up multiple times but you weren’t actually aware.” Owen admitted.

“Days?” Matthew repeated softly and Owen nodded. Matthew tried to sit up but his head began to pound painfully. He raised his hands in front of his face to block the aggressive glare of the sun.

“Try not to move, you need to recover.” Owen straightened the blanket over his friend.

“The sun…” Matthew groaned and his voice broke. His mouth was horribly dry and tasted like dried blood.

“I know but the sun will set soon. Just close your eyes.” Owen tried to block the sun with his shoulders and the shade was a welcome relief for Matthew. He began to fall asleep again, rapidly losing his ability to stay awake and aware.

“Owen…” he whispered, “did she come back… for me?”

Owen’s face began to blur as Matthew fell asleep. He didn’t stay awake long enough to hear his response.

…

When Matthew woke up again he was being half-dragged and half-carried through the water. He flailed about between the arms of his savior.

“Joy! Stop that.” Owen’s voice reprimanded him. Matthew looked up. Instead of his friend, he saw a scraggly man with an unkempt beard and foul smelling clothes.

“Owen?” Matthew garbled and Owen chuckled weakly.

“Do I really look that bad? Well I hate to break it to you but you don’t look so good yourself.”

“Don’t beat me while I’m down, Owen.” Matthew tried to laugh but started to cough. He was too weak to cough and grimaced instead.

“Where are we?” Matthew asked as Owen rearranged him in his arms.

“We spotted land this morning.”

“Are we home?”

“No, we found an island. It’s not much but it’s land.” Owen stepped onto the solid beach and lowered Matthew to the ground against a tree.

“Stay here, I’m going to help the others look for shelter and food.” Owen patted Matthew on his hollow chest. Matthew smirked and nodded.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.” Matthew laughed softly.

“You still have your sense of humor, good.” Owen limped away with a small group of similarly starved men. Matthew could only imagine what he looked like. He raised his hands to feel his hair and then his face. He had a long beard and sun blisters buried deep in his face. His hands shook as he moved them to his lap.

His eyes rested on the shore where the bright blue water swept out upon the beach. He could feel himself whispering her name beneath his breath like a prayer. Had she protected them this entire time? Had she ensured that they would find land?

Where was she now? Matthew closed his eyes and knew he’d be crying if wasn’t so dehydrated.

“Water… I need water…” Matthew tried to call out. One of the sailors sprawled out on the sand, sat up and patted his pockets for a canteen.

“Here, sir.” The sailor offered Matthew his half-empty canteen and unscrewed the cap for him. Matthew took the bottle with shaking hands and raised the bottle to his lips. He took a few small sips and sighed. Even though he wanted to drink the whole bottle, he forced himself to return the container to the young man with blisters across his face.

“Thank you,” Matthew nodded and leaned his bloody head back against the tree. “How long has it been since the Essex sank?”

The young boy raised his head in surprise and furrowed his brow.

“About two weeks, sir.”

“Did… did a woman or… a siren find us before we got here?” Matthew struggled to ask. The boy darted his eyes away in discomfort before answering.

“Um no, sir.”

Matthew closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t have the energy to explain to the boy what he meant. In his head he could see the girl again. Her beautiful green eyes glowed in the darkness of his mind and his hands could feel her soft body.

“Y/N…” he whispered and fell asleep.

��

“So you’re leaving?” Matthew clarified and Owen nodded.

“A group of us are going to try to find the mainland.”

“I want to stay. I wouldn't make the trip and we both know that. The men who want to stay can stay with me.” Matthew looked up at the ceiling of the cave they had found away from the beach. They had been on the island for a week now and were running out of food.

“I’ll tell the men. If we make it back to land… we’ll come back and get you. We’ll come back for you, understand?”

Matthew nodded and gestured to the men chatting outside in the dark, a fire burning between them. Owen left the cave but his voice carried back to Matthew as he informed the men of their proposed plan. Questions arose from the sailors and Matthew tried to keep himself from sobbing as he accepted the truth:

The Siren had not been back. She had not come when he needed her and he realized then that she never would. She had warned him since the beginning not to trust her but he had. Tears slipped down his face and triggered a headache. His head was bandaged with clean make-shift bandages but the wound still hurt. He cradled his face in his hands and rested his palms against his legs.

I hate you, Matthew thought. I loved you and you betrayed me.

…

They left the following day and Matthew was left alone with four other men. They sat in the cave all together and withered away in silence.

…

A few nights later, Matthew awoke with a start and gasped silently. It had been over a month since the Essex went down. The cave was dark and the sounds of the men sleeping surrounded him. He looked around as best as he could and whimpered softly into the darkness.

Fear not this night, you will not go astray

Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way

Awaken from a quiet sleep

Hear the whispering of the wind

Awaken as silence grows

In the solitude of the night

The song reached his ears from far beyond the mouth of the cave, stilling him. He stopped whimpering and fell quiet to hear the haunting music. The woman’s voice was alone, unaccompanied by other voices or music. She sounded like a child singing as she finished a chore. It was a pure and comforting sound that drew Matthew to his knees. He pulled himself up to his feet and grasped the moist walls as he stumbled out.

The island air was warm and dry around him as his feet reached the sand. He could hear the waves crashing against the beach but the sounds of animals were abnormally absent. He walked further out into the dark, hugging his jacket around his dying body.

Darkness spreads through all the land and your weary eyes open silently

Sunsets have forsaken all the most far off horizons

Fear not this night, you will not go astray.

Dawn’s just a heartbeat away.

And there in the distance, the horizon was starting to lighten as the sun would rise in the following hours. In the meantime, the beach was still dark. Matthew felt his feet carry him to the shoreline where the sand pulled against his ankles. He looked out at the water and forgot why he was there at all. Was he dreaming?

Distant sounds of melodies calling through the night to your heart

He took a few more steps where the water reached his calves. Two hands reached out and touched his scarred face and he flinched away. The hands returned and held his hollow cheeks gently.

“Matthew,” the voice whispered sweetly but he couldn’t see who was speaking.

“Who are you?” Matthew whimpered and tried to pull away from the strange hands which were not his own. “Are you an angel of heaven?”

“Has it really been that long that you’ve forgotten my touch?”

“I’ve forgotten my own. Who are you?” He asked again, his eyebrows furrowed with suspicion.

“It’s me, sailor. Your Siren.” Y/N rubbed her thumbs over Matthew’s bulging cheekbones, tears ran down his face without his knowledge. Matthew closed his eyes and shook his head weakly.

“No, no. She left me weeks ago. I’m dying.” He took a step back but the current caught his heels.

“Look at me, Matthew. It’s me. I’ve come to take you home.”

Matthew opened his eyes slowly and his lips fell apart. His eyes adjusted in the dark, finally revealing a woman’s familiar face framed in dark hair. She was naked so she appeared to be a star glowing in the dark.

“It’s not possible. Why would you come back now?” Matthew whispered, his voice breaking. More tears filled his eyes and he tried to control the sobs that threatened him.

“I never left you, Matthew, but I didn’t know what I could do. I can’t change fate.”

“So this was my fate?” Matthew laughed darkly. He reached out to pet her hair and sniffed.

“Yes, I couldn’t intervene.”

“I thought you had abandoned me,” Matthew sobbed and curled her hair in his fingers.

“I’m so sorry, Matthew…”

“But why are you here now?” Matthew trailed his fingers up and down her neck absentmindedly.

“Like I said, I’ve come to take you home.”

“You were singing…” Matthew noted and stepped closer. The girl cupped his face again and looked up into his bloodshot eyes.

“I’m singing for you, sailor.”

She kissed his cheek and reached for his hands. Going slowly, she walked backwards into the sea, singing. Matthew followed her blindly, his mind captured by her ballad and the magical glow in her eyes. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to smile through her song.

Though the shadows fall, still the stars find their way

Life your voice with the first light of dawn

Dawn’s just a heartbeat away

Hope’s just a sunrise away

Matthew’s head dipped below the surface and the water consumed him. The song continued in his head as Y/N carried him to his death, ending his suffering and burying the dead.

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sl-newsie · 17 days ago

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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 77: A Proposition

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

*Warning: Talk of intimacy

The few days’ journey to Belfast slips by like a blur. I’m driven to an elegant hotel and am told to wait for my parents’ arrival, which should be tomorrow. The man I’m marrying is said to be in Scotland and will be arriving tomorrow as well. I’m to spend the night before my wedding in a quiet, lonely hotel room. Each minute that ticks by only increases the tightening in my stomach. Lord, I feel like I'm going to be sick. I really wish Dílis was here to keep me company.

But at least the selected dress is decent. A bit bland for my taste but it could be worse. I decide to slip it on and model it in front of the tall mirror. Moeder chose one with a high neckline and flowing skirt, although I could do without the long sleeves. Even the veil looks too bland on me. The only upside is that it helps to hide my fresh scar. Although this is supposed to represent the happiest day of my life I can’t help but feel incomplete.

My reflection in the mirror confirms it. I’m not the same person I was fourteen years ago. Back then I was carefree and naïve. Now I’m sad and tired. Tired of putting myself off. Surely I’ve gone the distance to earn romantic love? Perhaps this marriage will deliver it… Even if it will be with a man I might not love.

Is that the life Thomas was used to? Being surrounded by despair, desperate for any form of happiness even if it was paid for? Even after all this time I will still be clinging to past feelings.

“God, you look beautiful.”

My eyes fly open and I gasp when I see an addition to the reflection. His scent of scent of mint, ash, and cigarettes fills the room and floods my senses.

“You-? You’re here?”

I spin around, almost tripping on the skirt. I am not imagining this. He is here. Thomas is here. In my hotel room, staring at me in a wedding dress. Ada let it slip to someone. And now I can’t hide it from him.

“Please leave,” I request evenly and turn away. “If you don’t mind I’d like to spend the last few moments I have alone in peace before my life changes forever.”

Thomas, looking like he’s had no sleep during his trip here, drops onto the bed’s plush mattress. I don’t even bother to care about how much dirt he’s getting on it.

“Have you even met him yet?”

I take a breath and keep up the charade. “Vader says I’ll learn to love him. I’ve tried to love others in the past but they couldn’t look away from my connections to you.”

At least with Bonnie he understood how gangs work. But most of the men I explain my past to believe it’s unladylike. Lord knows I tried to move on but no one ever seemed the right fit.

“Honestly I don’t even know if I can love anymore.”

“You will never stop loving people,” Thomas assures. “But you can’t marry him.”

I quirk a brow and humor his statement. “If I remember straight, I seem to recall you saying that I don’t decide your life and that you don’t decide mine. Why the sudden change of heart?”

Thomas keeps looking at me and shakes his head, as if the situation is inarguable. “You just can’t.”

“Since when is my love life suddenly your top priority?” I poke at him. I need to know.

He stands up from the bed but I don’t feel spooked. “You think I don’t care?”

I put my hands up my hips. “You never showed any interest until now. My moeder’s not waiting any longer for me to find someone so vader’s arranged for me to marry a complete stranger. One of Uncle Colon’s friends, apparently.”

He takes another look at my dress. “I knew you were leaving. You never said anything about marriage.”

“I didn’t want you to feel… obligated to worry. You have enough on your plate as it is.” I bunch up the skirt and step over to set my veil down on the dresser. “What difference does it make? I still need to protect my familie’s legacy.”

Thomas watches me carefully. After a few seconds he tosses his cap on the bed and runs a hand through his hair. Damn it, Thomas! Come clean with whatever you’ve got to say and don’t make yourself at home here!

“First I thought Grace was the only one who understood. Even after you warned me about her,” he begins. “Now I have begun a new life. And I want you in it. Arthur’s right. I never showed interest because I was suppressing myself.”

That doesn’t sound like him. “Why would you do that? You always jump at the chance to speak your mind.”

“Because you deserve better,” he answers immediately. “You’re… You’re you, Verena. Innocent. Being caught up with a man like me only leads to trouble, as you’ve found out. I can’t let that happen to you again.”

He’s right. It is dangerous. But it has also been liberating. We’ve both lost people. We’ve both waded through battles.

“Thomas, if you know me at all then you know I don’t care about taking chances. I mean, I decided to stay in Birmingham, didn’t I? I could have ran back to Brooklyn with my tail between my legs.” I push aside my conflicted feelings and step closer. “But I wanted more out of life than starting out as just a simple housewife. Working with the Peaky Blinders, working with you, has given me the biggest adventure of my life.”

He doesn’t know how to respond. I’m sure not many have shown gratitude for this. But there is another loose end I need to pull.

“If you don’t think I should be caught up with someone like you then why did you chase me here?”

Thomas presses his lips together and goes to lean his head against the wall, both hands holding him up. “I can’t forget you, love. No matter how hard I try, the thought of letting you go without a fight is something I can’t suppress any longer. I... love you.”

So we’ve been playing the same game. “We’re both at a standstill, then."

I hear him hum against the wall. “Could I at least talk to your father and get him to consider arranging your marriage with me instead?”

Praise the Lord. Did he just…? Is that a proposal?

My lips curl into a delicate smile. “You haven’t even asked me.”

“You’re right. How inconsiderate of me.”

Thomas steps back from the wall, now wearing a small glorified smile of his own, and walks right up to me. Our chests are nearly touching. Slowly, he sinks down to one knee, never letting his gaze fall. He looks beautiful like this. Blue-eyed, rugged, and covered with dirt.

“Verena.” He reaches for my small hand. “Verena, Verena. Before I lose you forever will you please do me the greatest honor of letting me be your husband?”

The oddly-phrased question makes me smirk teasingly. “Hm. Never heard it put that way before.”

“Please?!” He begs and leans into my dress’ fabric. “Don’t leave me. Not again.”

As I stand there looking down at him I can’t fight this blooming feeling of desire. “Are you sure-?”

“I’m absolutely fucking sure. I love you so much and if I see you with another man then my mind truly will be lost.” His eyes look up to me again. “Admit it. You want this too.”

“Thomas…” I murmur as a prayer, hoping God will hear me.

Should I risk this? Who's to say that the mystery man in Scotland can't do better? But all my heart can do is replay the pining for Thomas inside my head.

“Do you still love me?" Thomas whispers. "With God as your witness please tell me you still love me.”

The question he asked before. Back when I thought my love would never be good enough for Thomas Shelby. Now he kneels before me, imploring for it.

“I could never stop loving you, Thomas Shelby.”

“Then stay with me,” he asks, snaking his arms around my waist. “Let me keep you. The family loves you, Charlie adores you.”

In his eyes I see the same vulnerable look from the first night I comforted him. Back when opium was the only suppressant he trusted, and love was unheard of. He has become my adventure and I have become his peace of mind.

“I will stay.”

Thomas lets out a long-held sigh of relief. “You’ll stay.”

“I will marry you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Thomas Shelby, I would love to be your wife. So, so much.” I bring my hands down to cup his face, running my thumbs over his stubble. “But you need to tell me this is exactly what you want because I’m never waiting around again. This is a done deal.”

“Yes, yes! I want you so much, love. I need you to keep me sane.”

I smile wider and lean down. “Alright. Then you need to promise me three things.”

He doesn’t blink. “Anything.”

“No cheating,” I demand firmly. “There will be no other women. I don’t care what the situation is. If you have any problems you need to work out then you come straight to me. Understand?”

Thomas’ smile drops and he looks up at me with a serious expression. “I promise. I promise, Verena. And if I ever am fucking daft enough to break that promise you can shoot me down in cold blood.”

I study him for any signs of uncertainty but there are none. “Thank you. I’ll remember that. My next request is that you won’t shadow me everywhere I go. I don’t need a bodyguard, Thomas.”

He hums and presses himself closer against me. “Can’t help it, love. You know what kind of business I get into.”

“That’s the last part.” I tap his head. “No more burning the candle at both ends. You need to set some time aside for Charlie and Duke. To be a vader.”

The gangster stands up and begins to get a naughty gleam in his eye, running his hands over my dress. “And what about setting time aside to please you?”

My breath catches but I fight to stay calm. “The kids come first. Charlie needs his vader, especially since he just lost his zuster.”

Thomas slinks closer and I feel him back me up against the dresser. “What if he needs another brother or sister?”

A child. As if my life hasn’t been filled with them. But the thought makes me giddy nonetheless.

“Another Shelby running around? Sounds dangerous.”

Thomas brings my arm up and starts trailing kisses down my pale skin. “You will make a wonderful mother, Verena.”

My face flushes and I swear each kiss he gives me makes my heart soar. “You sound awfully confident.”

“It’s like you said. Our warranties are about to expire.”

I gawk at him playfully. “Are you saying my biological clock is ticking? Still cocky as ever. Pun definitely intended.”

“God, I love you,” he sighs and buries his face in my braided hair. “You’re still not offended by me, eh?”

That’s odd. “How so?”

“Because others still say it’s dirty to mix with Gypsy blood.”

“This again?” I utter and run a hand over his neck. “Thomas, you could be half alien and I would still love you. Being a Gypsy gangster’s wife is not something I will be ashamed of. Do you know the dark deeds my Uncle Colon has done?”

Thomas grunts darkly. “‘M sure I don’t want to.”

“Marrying you is not the worst thing my familie has done. So do you promise not to cross familie with business?”

“I promise,” Thomas reassures and goes back to feeling a hand across my bodice. “Darling… I can’t wait to see you round with my child.”

God, those words are music to my ears. The wheels are already spinning in his head. He’s been wanting this just as much as I have! And yet I’m still held back on account of my faith and my familie’s wishes.

“We need to wait, Thomas,” I note sadly. “It needs to be official.”

He lets out a deep whine. “I’ve waited this long…”

“You can wait some more. I am not having a child out of wedlock.”

“So proper,” he jokes softly when I lead his hands away from me.

“Take it or leave it.”

Thomas rolls his eyes and leaves a kiss on my cheek. “I suppose my patience isn’t completely worn out. But the minute we’re alone after the ceremony I’m fucking you until you can’t walk for a week. I want to show you just how much you mean to me.”

The image of him laying in the tub flashes through my mind and I feel myself start to get excited. My body feels like it’s about to melt from all the romantic attention. My chest is wound tight and my face feels red hot. But it’s not from embarrassment. It’s from anticipation.

I am his, and he is mine. Although that sounds like a marvelous statement I cannot help but think of how that image could look.

I swallow and regain a steady tone. “A thought just occurred… I- I don’t want people to assume I’m only marrying you for profit.” I bite my lip and keep my eyes focused on Thomas’ muddy shoes. “Like Gina.”

Thomas presses his lips together and leans down to look at me with profound admiration. “Fuck that bitch. Darling, you are nothing like her.”

“I know. But it’s people like her who give Americans a bad name. People will see me marrying you and assume I’m just another woman out for money.”

He runs a gentle hand over the scar on my cheek. “People don’t see you that way. If they do, I will correct them. You are a respected part of this family, Verena. Everyone will respect you even if I have to encourage it further.”

By “correct” and “encourage,” I think he means “force.” I would press against it but there’s something about the way he promises it that makes me believe Thomas will always protect me.

“How should we tell the others?” I ask softly.

“Simple. Tell ‘em we’re engaged.”

I tilt my head at him. “With no explanation?”

“Your father says you need a husband.” Thomas shrugs and smirks. “I’m your man.”

He leans in to kiss my cheek again and I look back at my veil. “Speaking of which, you better talk to vader before the sod I’m supposed to marry gets his hopes up.”

Reluctantly, we both pull away and go back to standing apart. I fuss with my dress and he retrieves his hat, as if the last ten minutes never happened. Did I dream it all-?

“I’ll be very convincing,” Thomas sasses as he strides back to the door.

I point a finger at him. “No killing.”

He reaches for the doorknob and stops. In the blink of an eye he paces back and wraps his strong arms around me, pressing us together. My body goes stiff but I think it’s because of nerves. No part of me wants to back away from this. No longer does my heart hurt from fear or rejection; instead I am confident and feel taken care of. When Thomas leans in and our noses touch my knees feel like they’re going to collapse.

“Soon you will be mine,” Thomas whispers, running a hand over by braids.

“I am yours, Thomas. Have been all these years.”

To say that kissing is meaningless is absolute nonsense. But when Thomas leans in and I can finally kiss him it’s not as grand as books make it out to be. There are no sparks, no butterflies. It feels… wet. It is certainly something I need to grow used to, not that I am being too critical.

I’ve waited so long and, in this moment, the sensation of Thomas’ soft lips on mine and the feeling of his warm hands caressing me makes me feel more special than anyone else in the world. I am no doubt new to this but it’s no secret why every married couple I know treasures romantic affection. This is a love that has been growing for a long time.

@sherbitdibdab @meadows5

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annalucaschmitz · 2 months ago

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Owww he is sooo handsome guysss🩷

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tom shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder imagine #netflix #ww1 #war #ww2 #england #ww1 england #john shelby #arthur shelby #polly shelby

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rumandcigaretes · 10 months ago

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Look what I found yesterday

That's so wholesome 😍🤠

And have a little bit of specific chemistry

DON'T YOU THINK???

#alfie x tommy #tofie #alfie solomons #fanfic #gay men #gayhot #peaky blinders #thomas and alfie #thomas shelby #tommy sheiby #tommy x alfie #tom hardy #cillian murphy #pęky blinders gif #gif

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followsfrankiep · 3 months ago

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Haunted (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Chapter 4 - A Long Night

TW: Violence, Explicit Words, and Smut

Izzy's days at the Shelby Company had become a relentless grind. Polly Gray, ever watchful, had taken a keen interest in her activities. Every report, every meeting, every move Izzy made was scrutinized. Polly's presence was a constant shadow, her sharp eyes missing nothing. Izzy's visits to Camden, once a routine part of her role, were now handled by one of Tommy's men. Her responsibilities had been minimized, and it was clear she was under surveillance.

It started subtly. Polly would drop by Izzy's office more frequently, asking for updates on her work. At first, Izzy didn't mind. She understood the need for oversight, especially given the high stakes of their operations. But as the days went by, Polly's visits became more frequent and intrusive.

"How's the report on the Rum shipment plans coming along, Izzy?" Polly asked one morning, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.

Izzy looked up from her desk, forcing a smile. "Almost done. Just need to finalize a few details."

Polly nodded, but her gaze lingered on the papers scattered across Izzy's desk. "Make sure it's thorough. We can't afford any mistakes."

The constant pressure began to take its toll on Izzy. She found herself second-guessing every decision, fearing Polly's disapproval. Her work suffered, and the stress became unbearable. The fact that she has not been able to visit Alfie after they met at the gym, has been worrying her as well.

One evening, as she was finishing up a draft plan, Polly walked in and picked up the document without a word. She scanned it quickly, her expression unreadable.

"There are so many flaws here, Izzy," Polly said, her voice cold. "You need to redo it, unless you want us dead."

Izzy felt a surge of frustration. "I've been working on this for days, Polly. The plan should be thorough and accurate."

Polly's eyes narrowed. "Didn't you hear what I said? Do it again."

Izzy clenched her fists, struggling to keep her composure. "Fine."

The breaking point came a few days later. Izzy was in the middle of a meeting with a supplier when Polly barged in, interrupting the discussion.

"Izzy, I need to speak with you. Now," Polly demanded.

Izzy excused herself and followed Polly into the hallway. "What is it, Polly?"

Polly's eyes were cold and unforgiving. "I reviewed your revised draft. This is unacceptable."

Izzy's frustration boiled over. "I've been working non-stop, Polly. I'm doing my best, but your constant supervision is making it impossible to focus."

Polly's expression softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. "We can't afford any mistakes, Izzy. You need to step up."

Izzy took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I understand, but I need some space to do my job. Your constant oversight is making it unbearable."

Polly studied her for a moment before nodding. "We are talking about a huge transaction here. It is your job to make sure everything runs smoothly."

Izzy nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. It has been weeks since Michael left, and Polly has been filling out her son's role. However this time, Polly is the one leading, not Izzy. It made her realize how different Polly is with her son.

One evening, as she was finishing up her work, Izzy overheard a conversation that made her blood run cold. She was passing by Tommy's office when she heard voices—Tommy, Polly, and Arthur. They were discussing a plan to take down the Sabinis once and for all. Izzy pressed herself against the wall, straining to hear every word. She was excluded from the planning, but she made a mental note of everything they said.

Tommy's voice was firm and decisive. "We need to hit the Sabinis hard and fast. No room for mistakes this time."

Polly agreed, her tone equally resolute. "Arthur, you'll lead the charge. Make sure our men are ready."

Arthur's confidence was evident. "Don't worry, Tommy. We'll crush them."

Izzy's heart raced as she listened. She knew this information could be crucial for Alfie. She quietly slipped away, determined to use what she had learned.

The following night, feeling exhausted and frustrated, Izzy decided to unwind at the gym. She was in the middle of her workout when she noticed a familiar figure entering the room. Alfie Solomons, with a grumpy expression, was pointing a gun at her.

"Oi! Where the hell have you been, Izzy? I thought you went AWOL on me," Alfie growled.

Izzy didn't flinch. She calmly took off her gloves and took a sip of water. "Alfie, put the gun down. I'm not going anywhere."

Alfie's eyes narrowed, but he lowered the gun. "Explain yourself."

Izzy sighed, a hint of irritation in her voice. "I have been bustin' my ass at the shithole and it has been a nightmare. Polly's got me under constant surveillance. Every move I make is being watched. They've even reassigned my bakery meetings to one of Tommy's fucking men." she said, wiping off water from her lips.

Alfie's expression softened, and he put the gun back in his pocket. She looked tired, and worn out. "Well... I didn't know.. I thought you betrayed me." he shrugged.

Izzy gave him a warm smile and signalled him to sit on the bench nearby, in which he quietly obliged. A part of her knew that Alfie would have a violent reaction regarding her missing presence. The timing of everything was not right at all so she had to be more understanding of where Alfie's coming from.

Izzy looked deep into his eyes, her voice steady. "I gave you my word, Alfie. I won't break it. But I need your help."

Alfie has always prided himself to be a good judge of character. When he stared at her deep brown eyes, he knew she was a genuine person. At least right now. He nodded, his gaze intense. "What do you need?"

Izzy leaned in, her voice low. "I overheard Tommy, Polly, and Arthur talking about a plan to take down the Sabinis. They're planning an attack, and I think we can use this to our advantage."

Alfie's interest was piqued. "Go on."

Izzy outlined the details she had overheard, explaining the timing and the key players involved. "If we tip off the Sabinis, they can be ready for the attack. It will throw the Peaky Blinders off balance and give us an edge."

Alfie considered her words carefully. "It's risky, but it could work. We need to make sure the Sabinis are prepared and have enough men to counter the attack."

Izzy nodded. "Exactly. We need to coordinate with them and ensure everything goes smoothly."

Alfie agreed, a plan forming in his mind. "I'll meet with Darby Sabini and set things in motion. We'll make sure the Peaky Blinders walk into a trap."

Izzy smiled, her eyes turning into crescents, her cheek dimple appearing. "Thank you, Alfie. I knew I could count on you."

Alfie felt a warmth in his chest as he looked at her. She looked wonderful despite the sweaty and rugged appearance after her boxing. Alfie reached out to the clean towel beside her and wiped the sweat off her face. "I'm sorry for pointing the gun at you, Izzy. I should have trusted you."

Izzy reached out and touched his arm, placing it down. "It's fine. I understand. You don't need to worry about me betraying you."

Alfie watched as she walked away, her figure disappearing into the night. He knew they were taking a huge risk, but he trusted Izzy.

The following days were a whirlwind of preparation. Alfie met with Darby Sabini, who was eager to put a stop to the Peaky Blinders. They reached an agreement, with Alfie becoming an unknown trigger in the plan.

"So, Alfie, you invited the peaky blinders here then somehow, you are here to ask for our help?" Sabini asked, his eyes narrowing with interest.

"Oh is that the way you thank me? You will be dead in a few days if I don't tell you this." Alfie said mockingly, holding his crane.

Sabini's men pulled out their guns and pointed it to Alfie and Ollie, who was sitting beside him. In turn, Alfie's men did the same. They have been at each other's throats for years now. Darby's mockery of dirty fucking jews had always agitated Alfie. But business is business, and this time, Information is a valuable commodity. Thanks to Izzy, he's going to make a fortune.

"Put your guns down. Alfie's here as a friend." Darby Sabini signaled his men which they followed immediately, earning a smug smile from Alfie.

"Yes. Friend." Alfie mockingly nodded to his men, telling them to do the same but still kept their guard up.

"What information do you have, Alfie?" Darby asked.

Alfie scrunched up his nose and shakes his head. "Nah, mate. You know how valuable these things can be. I am just here as an instrument of God. Of course, since you are, as you said, a friend, I would be very much happy for a few thousand pounds."

Darby slammed his palms on the table with a resounding thud, muttering under his breath. "Stronzo." He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes as he glanced at Alfie who is lying back at his chair, casually caressing his beard. "Okay, Alfie. Ten thousand pounds for your valuable information." he said, gritting his teeth.

Alfie's negotiation skills are topnotch. He leaned casually against the wall, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Oh, you see, friend... It is customary for business if you pay upfront, especially for the priceless commodities.” His tone dripped with sarcasm, eyes glinting with amusement.

The Italian man nodded to his right hand man to give Ollie the cash, upon receiving the payment, Ollie gave Alfie his confirmation. Darby leaned forward, his curiosity piqued and a hint of apprehension creasing his brow.

"Tommy's planning an attack on your territory. You need to be ready for them. I'll provide the details, and you make sure your men are prepared," Alfie explained.

"And what's in it for you?" Sabini inquired, his tone cautious. Everyone knew that Alfie Solomons would not give a shit to their war if it wouldn't benefit him or his business.

"Taking down the Peakys weakens Tommy's grip on the city. It's in both our interests," Alfie replied confidently.

"Fair enough. We'll be ready," Sabini agreed, a determined look on his face.

Alfie provided Sabini with the information Izzy had gathered, ensuring that the Sabinis would have the upper hand. They coordinated their efforts, making sure every detail was covered.

On the day of the attack, Izzy was at the office, working under Polly's watchful eye. Arthur and his men set out to execute the plan, confident in their numbers and strategy. But when they arrived at the Sabinis' stronghold, they were met with more resistance than expected.

The Sabinis had fortified their position, and their men outnumbered Arthur's. A fierce battle ensued, and Arthur was knocked unconscious in the chaos. The police, tipped off by an anonymous source, arrived on the scene and arrested Arthur, locking him up.

Arthur, disoriented and furious, shouted, "What the fuck is going on? We were supposed to have the upper hand!" From behind, a blow hit his head, resulting to Arthur losing his consciousness.

One of Sabini's men smirked. "Looks like you underestimated us, mate."

The news reached Polly quickly, and she was furious. The plan had backfired spectacularly, and now Arthur was in police custody. Izzy, meanwhile, continued her work, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. The first part of their plan had succeeded, and she knew there was more to come.

The clock ticked ominously on the wall as Polly entered the dimly lit office. Tommy sat behind a massive oak desk, the shadows casting a menacing aura over his stern face. Polly swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the impending conversation heavy in her gut.

“They got Arthur. ” Polly started, her voice low and tense. She could feel her pulse quicken, each beat a deafening drum in her ears.

Tommy looked up and his eyes narrowed, his gaze cold and unyielding. “What? How?”

“The fucking plan backfired, Tommy.” she paused, taking a deep breath, “he's been taken into police custody. They framed him with the murder of our men.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Tommy's expression remained unreadable, his steely eyes boring into the papers in front of him.

Polly raised the boys like her own, and this situation angered her. "Tommy, we need to get Arthur out of there. This is a disaster."

Tommy's expression was grim. "We'll handle it, Polly."

Izzy kept her head down, knowing that the real game was just beginning.

The news of Arthur's arrest and the heavy losses suffered by their men prompted Tommy to call an urgent family meeting. The atmosphere in the room was tense as the Shelby family gathered around the table.

Tommy addressed the group, his voice steady but filled with underlying tension. "We have a problem. Arthur's been arrested, and most of our men are dead. We'll get him out, but first, we need to secure our position. We can't afford any more mistakes."

Izzy listened intently, her mind racing. She knew she had to be careful. Any slip-up could expose her involvement with Alfie.

Tommy continued, his tone commanding. "Polly, I want you to tighten security. No one gets in or out without our knowledge. Lizzy, you'll take over the management of the office. Izzy, you'll handle your usual operations again, including your Camden meetings with Alfie."

As he turned to leave, Tommy turned his face to Izzy. “And Izzy, remember—no loose ends.”

Izzy nodded, feeling the weight of those final words settle heavily on her shoulders, feeling a chill run down her spine. She knew the stakes were higher than ever. But she also knew that with Alfie's help, she had a chance to turn the tide in their favor.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the bedsheets as the hotel phone rang unexpectedly, breaking the heavy silence. She hesitated, her heart pounding, before lifting the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Izzy, it’s Michael.” His voice was soft, almost tender, but it sent a shiver down her spine. She forced herself to take a steady breath, a sense of dread settling in her stomach.

“Michael… Hi.” She tried to infuse warmth into her voice, knowing that she had to play her part convincingly.

“I got the news... about Arthur,” Michael said, his voice tinged with concern. “I couldn't stop thinking about you. How have you been holding up?”

Izzy clenched the phone tighter, her eyes flickering to the suitcase on the bed, half-packed with essentials. Forced to balance the tightrope of emotions, she tried to keep her voice steady. “It’s been… difficult. I didn't expect it to happen so suddenly.”

“I miss you, Izzy,” Michael admitted, a hint of longing in his tone. “It’s just not the same without you. I’ll come home sooner. We’ll get through this together.”

Home. The word felt foreign to her now, disconnected from the affection Michael was desperately trying to offer. It was becoming harder to pretend as each day passed. But she forced a small, strained smile. “I’ve missed you too, Michael. Your support means everything to me right now.”

Unexpected guilt gnawed at her; despite the absence of true love for Michael, some part of her didn't want to hurt him. She felt trapped in a maze of obligations and deceptions.

“Izzy,” Michael’s voice softened, overflowing with affection, “I know it’s been tough. But you’re strong, and we’ll find a way out of this mess. I just want to hold you, tell you everything will be okay.”

Izzy’s throat tightened, and she forced herself to respond. “I want that too, Michael. I really do. We need each other more than ever.”

“Take care, Izzy. I’ll see you soon,” Michael said softly, his words lingering like a bittersweet melody. She could feel his love radiating through the line, only making the charade more painful.

“Goodbye, Michael,” she whispered, hanging up the phone with a heavy heart.

As the line went dead, Izzy turned her attention back to her suitcase. She resumed packing, her mind replaying the events of the evening.

Earlier that night, the gym had been dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of sweat and adrenaline. Alfie's words echoed in her mind. “That whole place is owned by Tommy. He’s got every line tapped, every call reported to him. Be careful.”

Izzy’s hands shook slightly as she folded her clothes, the gravity of Alfie's warning sinking in. She had to be careful, every move meticulously planned. There was no room for error. She couldn’t trust anyone—especially not under these circumstances.

The cold, hard reality of her situation weighed heavy on her chest. She needed to find a way out, and soon. The stakes were too high, and the walls seemed to close in tighter with each passing moment.

The morning light filtered through the dusty windows of the flat Izzy had found on short notice. Over night, she moved cautiously, the feeling of being followed still prickling at the back of her neck. Each creak of the floorboards made her heart race. She meticulously arranged her belongings, trying to make the sparse apartment look like home, though her mind was far from at ease.

Fast forward to later that day, Izzy found herself slipping into the familiar scents of Alfie's rum distillery. The heady mix of molasses and spices gave the place an air of dangerous comfort. As she entered, Ollie approached her with a look of genuine concern.

“Izzy, you alright? You look like you’ve run through hell and back,” Ollie said, his brow furrowed.

Izzy brushed him off with a tired wave of her hand. “I’m fine, Ollie. Just need to see Alfie.”

Ollie nodded, though his worry lingered in his eyes as she made her way to Alfie’s office. She pushed the door open to find him sitting at his desk, a familiar look of mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Oi, look what the cat dragged in,” Alfie mocked playfully, his rough voice filled with a mix of sarcasm and amusement. He took in her appearance, the bags under her eyes and the weariness etched on her face. “You look like you’ve been run over by one of them bloody trams.”

Izzy managed a weak smile, dropping onto the worn leather sofa with a grunt. “Thanks for the compliment, Alfie. I’ve had a hell of a night, moving into a new place and trying to do it under the cover of darkness so Tommy’s men wouldn’t spot me.”

Alfie leaned back in his chair, a wry grin spreading across his face. “Ah, Izzy, always the drama, eh? You know, you’ve got that knack for making life a bit too interesting.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s this about a new place then? And being followed, you say?”

Izzy sighed, rubbing her temples. “Yeah, I couldn’t stay at that hotel any longer. Not with everything going on. I felt like I was being watched constantly. Found a flat, but had to move everything during the night. Didn’t sleep a wink.”

Despite her fatigue, she noticed a glimmer of sly amusement in Alfie’s eyes. “Well, love, you did a stellar job of looking absolutely knackered. But listen, you’re smart, Izzy. If anyone can outmaneuver Tommy’s lot, it’s you.”

Izzy looked at him, grateful for the strange blend of teasing and support that only Alfie could provide. “I just hope you’re right.”

Alfie chuckled, a sound that was both comforting and unsettling. “Well, darling, if you keep running on empty like that, you’re bound to hit a wall. Take a breather when you can. This game’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

Izzy leaned back, her body heavy with exhaustion, but her resolve steadfast. “Thanks, Alfie. You know, for everything.”

“Well, now, don’t go getting all sentimental on me,” Alfie teased, though his tone held a hint of genuine concern. “You know, you keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you’ve got a bit of a crush.” He winked, his playful flirtation something Izzy had grown accustomed to.

She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Alfie, you couldn’t handle me even if you tried.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me, love. I might just take you up on that,” Alfie replied with a grin. His demeanor shifted slightly, more serious now. “But seriously, you need to get some rest.”

Izzy’s eyelids felt heavy, her exhaustion almost palpable. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Just a little nap wouldn’t hurt.”

As Alfie kept yapping about plans and strategies, Izzy’s head nodded slowly, her eyes struggling to stay open. Gradually, she leaned back on the couch, her breathing steadying as she drifted off to sleep. Alfie continued to talk, only to realize she had fallen asleep.

For a moment, Alfie was stunned. No one had ever dared to fall asleep in his office before. His initial annoyance was quickly replaced by a rare, genuine fondness as he gazed at her sleeping face.

“Ollie!” Alfie bellowed, startling Ollie as he rushed into the office.

“Yes, boss?”

“Get a pillow, would ya? And a blanket too,” Alfie ordered gruffly.

Ollie returned a moment later, looking flustered. “There’s no pillow in the distillery, Alfie.”

Alfie barked sarcastically, “Well, then, improvise! And find a bloody blanket while you’re at it.”

Ollie scurried off, leaving Alfie to watch over Izzy. Glancing at her peaceful face, he muttered to himself, “What am I gonna do with you, love?”

Once Ollie returned with whatever he could gather, Alfie carried Izzy carefully, positioning her properly on the sofa, ensuring she was comfortable. He chuckled softly, noting how heavy a sleeper she was, not waking up with all the movement. He placed a pillow under her head and covered her with a blanket.

Alfie sat back in his office chair and stared at her serene face, allowing his mind to wander back to the first time they met. The dim, flickering lights of the underground had cast shadows on her determined face as she walked into his life, fearless and fierce. He had been haunted by that moment ever since, recognizing a kindred spirit in her defiance and strength.

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t bear to wake her. “Guess we’re both sleeping in the office tonight,” Alfie murmured, a rare tenderness in his voice. He settled into his chair, keeping a watchful eye over her, as the underground world around them continued to churn.

The morning light streamed into Alfie's office, casting a warm glow on Izzy as she slowly stirred awake. She blinked groggily, momentarily confused by her surroundings. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she sat up abruptly, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. She had fallen asleep in Alfie's office, of all places.

Izzy noticed the pillow under her head and the blanket draped over her body. Her mind raced, and she wondered if Alfie had been the one to bring them for her. The thought brought a mix of gratitude and mortification.

Scanning the office, she realized Alfie was nowhere to be found. Glancing at the clock, it was barely 6 a.m. She heard Alfie's unmistakable voice barking orders at his men in the bakery below.

She quickly fixed herself, straightening her wrinkled clothes and running a hand through her hair. Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside the office, where Ollie noticed her and subtly gestured to Alfie that she was up.

Alfie turned his attention to her as she descended the stairs, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Ah, there she is! Well, look at that, those bags under your eyes have vanished, love. Quite the miracle, eh?”

Izzy rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks for the observation, Alfie. And here I thought I’d be dragging them around forever.”

As they exchanged banter, Izzy noticed that Alfie was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. Curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, “Did you stay with me through the night, Alfie?”

Alfie’s demeanor shifted slightly, guilt flickering in his eyes before he brushed it off with a casual shrug. “Well, someone had to keep an eye on you, didn’t they? Don’t go getting any ideas, though.”

Izzy chuckled, the sound light and genuine. “Thanks, Alfie. By the way, what’s with barking at your workers for being late when it’s only 6 a.m.? Isn’t that a tad early, even for you?”

Alfie’s expression turned mockingly stern. “Watch it, darling. Old men like me have a reputation to maintain.”

Izzy laughed, earning a playful grin from Alfie. Her smile was a rare sight, something that warmed Alfie’s often cold and calculating heart. He was taken aback by her ease and genuine nature, feeling a strange sense of attachment he hadn’t known in years.

Izzy’s presence always had this disarming effect on him, one that made him feel vulnerable yet captivated. Beneath his tough exterior, he recognized a longing to be around her more, to bask in the warmth her genuine nature brought into his life. It was an unfamiliar and unsettling feeling, one he couldn’t quite place or understand.

The scent of molasses and spices filled the air as Izzy and Alfie stood amidst rows of rum barrels in the dimly lit distillery. The atmosphere was warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the tension that often surrounded their dealings.

Alfie leaned against one of the barrels, his piercing eyes fixed on Izzy. “So, love, how are things progressing with our little operation against the Shelbys?” he asked, his voice laced with that familiar mix of sarcasm and sincerity.

Izzy tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a thoughtful expression on her face. “It’s going well, Alfie. The rum is being prepped for shipment, and the logistics are all in place. We’re on track to send the first batch to the U.S. soon.”

Alfie’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “That’s what I like to hear, love. When do you reckon you’ll be visiting us in Camden again to finalize things?”

Izzy considered his question carefully, her hands resting on the edge of a barrel. “Probably in a day or two. With Arthur arrested, Tommy and Polly are all wrapped up in trying to bail him out and dealing with the authorities they can bribe. I’ve been reinstated in their daily operations, so I’ll need to be here.”

Alfie observed her closely, his mind racing through the implications. Though he wouldn’t admit it, not even to himself, the thought of not seeing her for a day or two left a strange void in his chest. He’d have to keep himself fully occupied to manage. “Well, love, I suppose I can survive a couple of days without you. Maybe.” He sounded sarcastic, maybe not? He was used to being not-so-subtle with Izzy.

She chuckled softly, her eyes meeting his. “I'll make it up to you, Alfie. We’ll get this rum shipped, make a fortune, and maybe you can even show me around London when we’re done.”

Alfie’s chuckle joined hers, a rare moment of genuine warmth. “Oh, Izzy, you really do know how to sweet-talk an old man.”

As Izzy listened to Alfie speak, her mind wandered to their secret alliance. She had always been cautious about working with him, knowing his reputation. The dim light of the distillery cast shifting shadows on his rugged face, and she couldn’t help but feel a mix of uncertainty and intrigue. But this morning, she knew he’d taken care of her —bringing her a pillow and blanket, making sure she slept and rested well—she caught a rare glimpse of genuine kindness beneath his gruff exterior. It was a strange, unsettling realization. She watched him as he spoke, his animated gestures and sharp wit captivating, yet her guard remained slightly raised, wondering if she could truly trust the man who managed to both infuriate and protect her.

Since the tension had eased, and they were both in high spirits, she asked a question that had been nagging at her thoughts. “Alfie, what do you think about me visiting Arthur in jail?" A part of her having a hard time to sleep was the thought of being a part of something that harmed Arthur. They were not close friends but the man was one of the kinder people within that company. She cannot help but to feel guilty considering they were secretly instrumental in his arrest.

Alfie leaned back, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “It’s actually a bloody good idea, love. The Shelbys won’t suspect anything if you go see Arthur." As always, she was three steps ahead. That move might even throw the Shelbys off the fact that Izzy was the one who tipped off their enemies. He gave her a knowing look. “Just be careful, yeah?”

Izzy nodded, her resolve strengthening. “You’re right. It’ll help keep suspicions at bay. I’ll make sure to visit him soon.”

Alfie’s admiration for her grew. She handled herself with such grace and determination, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. Though his mind was often filled with strategies and cunning plans, thoughts of Izzy had begun to sneak in, bringing a strange but welcome warmth.

He snapped back to reality when Izzy bid him goodbye. “I need to get home and prepare for work. Thanks for letting me stay, Alfie.”

As they prepared to part ways, Alfie teased, “Just remember, love, try not to fall asleep in random places again. I’m not always going to be there with a pillow and blanket.”

Izzy laughed, the sound like a soothing melody to Alfie’s ears. “I’ll see you in a day or two.”

The young woman left the distillery, her laughter echoing softly behind her, Alfie's gaze lingered on her retreating figure. He felt a strange longing, a desire to stay with her longer, even though he knew it wasn’t practical. Her presence brought a rare sense of warmth, something that had become increasingly precious to him.

He had to keep himself busy to distract from the absence he felt when she was gone. Turning back to his men, he barked orders once more, his gruff exterior firmly back in place. But in the quiet moments, thoughts of Izzy always found their way back to him.

Ollie silently observed their interaction, shaking his head with a knowing smile. He saw what was happening, even if Alfie didn’t yet fully recognize it himself. A young woman had captivated the gruff and tough boss, and it was a sight to behold.

The prison visiting area was a somber, cold place. The sterile gray walls were lined with rows of metal chairs and small tables, separated by glass partitions. The overhead fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a harsh glare on the faces of those who sat waiting for their loved ones. Izzy felt a chill as she stepped through the door, her footsteps echoing on the hard concrete floor.

She walked over to the assigned booth, the tension in her shoulders palpable. Moments later, the door at the far end of the room creaked open, and Arthur Shelby was led in by a guard. Even in his prison garb, Arthur carried himself with that unmistakable mix of anger and defiance that defined him. His eyes were fiery, and his jaw was set in a hard line. He looked every bit the fierce Peaky Blinder, despite the circumstances.

Arthur slumped into the chair opposite Izzy, his eyes narrowing as he took her in. “Izzy,” he greeted her gruffly, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and suspicion. “How are ya holdin’ up?”

Izzy forced a small, sympathetic smile. “I’m managing, Arthur. But I’m more concerned about you. How are you holding up? How are you feeling?”

Arthur’s expression darkened, his fists clenching on the table. “How do ya think I feel, eh? Bloody furious, that’s what! Can’t believe I got caught up in this mess.”

She nodded, understanding his frustration. “I know, Arthur. It’s a tough situation. But Tommy and Polly are doing everything they can to get you out of here. They’re working tirelessly, pulling every string they can.”

Arthur’s gaze softened slightly, a hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, Izzy. Appreciate you stoppin’ by. Takes guts to come here, especially with everything goin’ on.” He paused, then added with a hint of melancholy, “Michael’s a lucky man to have you, y’know that?”

Izzy’s heart tightened with guilt. Arthur’s words struck a chord, reminding her of the facade she had to keep up. Her feelings for Michael weren’t as genuine as they seemed, and the weight of that deception bore down on her. But she kept her expression neutral, nodding slightly. “Thanks, Arthur. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing again. “So, how’s the dispatch of rum goin’? Alfie givin’ you a hard time?”

Izzy chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Nothing I can’t handle. The shipment’s on track, and we’re making good progress.”

Arthur let out a heavy sigh, his anger slightly diminishing as the conversation continued. “Y’know, sometimes I feel like I’m the only one Tommy counts on, especially after John, our younger brother, died. I feel useless in here, not bein’ able to help with our operations. It eats me up inside.”

Izzy’s eyes softened with empathy and strategy as she listened genuinely to Arthur’s pain. Taming Arthur, a known wild dog, would be incredibly beneficial for her in the future. She needed more allies within the company to ease the possible complications with her plans. Arthur was known for his ride-or-die loyalty to Tommy, and Izzy knew she would need that kind of unwavering support as well. “You’re not useless, Arthur. You’re important to this family, and everyone knows it. We’ll get you out of here, and things will get back on track.”

Arthur’s expression lightened slightly as he found comfort in her words. “Thanks, Izzy. It means a lot to have someone listen.”

Izzy’s heart ached with guilt, knowing she played a part in his arrest. She masked her feelings, not wanting to get caught. “I’m always here for you, Arthur. It’s tough for everyone right now.”

Arthur’s eyes met hers, appreciating the sincerity in her tone. “Must be hard for you too, with Polly bein’ tough on ya lately.”

Izzy nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. “Yeah, Polly’s been a bit harsh, but I understand why. There’s a lot on her shoulders.”

Arthur reached across the table, his hand gripping hers in a rare display of affection. “You’re strong, Izzy. You’ll get through this. And once I’m out, I’ll make sure Polly eases up on ya.”

Izzy blinked back tears, grateful for his support. Her mind raced with conflicted emotions. On one hand, she was relieved Arthur had taken her bait once again. The promise to handle Polly meant she wouldn’t have to deal with the older Shelby’s harshness once Arthur was released. But on the other hand, the guilt of manipulating him gnawed at her conscience. She wouldn’t let it show, maintaining her empathetic facade. “Thanks, Arthur. That means a lot.”

Arthur leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Y’know, this jail visit has been the highlight of my week.” He let out a small chuckle, the tension in his shoulders easing.

Izzy managed a genuine smile, her heart lightening as they shared this moment of understanding. She knew the road ahead was fraught with danger, but for now, she was content knowing she had earned Arthur’s trust and affection.

The clang of machinery and the chatter of workers filled the air around the offices of the Shelby Company Limited. It was another hectic day at work, with deadlines looming and endless tasks demanding Izzy's attention. She moved with purpose, her mind already sifting through the day's list of priorities.

As she reviewed shipping manifests and coordinated with the foremen, her thoughts drifted to her dear friend Sophia, who she had left behind in Brooklyn. Sophia had always been her confidante and partner in crime, and the guilt of leaving her alone weighed heavily on Izzy's heart. She wondered how Sophia was managing, hoping that she was safe and well.

The Shelby Company Limited’s headquarters were busy with activity. The imposing brick building, located in the heart of Birmingham, buzzed with the hum of productivity. Elaborate beams and iron structures gave the place a rugged, industrial charm, fitting for the hardened spirits that ran the company.

Around midday, Izzy felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find one of Tommy's men, who informed her that Tommy Shelby wanted to see her in his office. She nodded, setting aside her work and making her way to the upper floors.

As she entered, Tommy Shelby sat behind his imposing mahogany desk, the room filled with the scent of cigars and ink. The soft glow of lamplight bathed the room, illuminating the stacks of files and dossiers scattered across his desk. This office was where the gears of their empire turned, and Tommy’s serious demeanor hinted at the gravity of the tasks awaiting Izzy.

"Ah, Izzy," Tommy greeted her, motioning for her to take a seat. "I need your help with something. Parliament work has been piling up, and I need an extra pair of eyes to review these files."

Izzy's brow furrowed slightly as she took the seat, her mind racing with questions. Why was Tommy asking her, of all people, to handle such important work? She hesitated, feeling a mix of anxiety and curiosity. "Are you sure, Tommy? I mean, isn't this something you would usually handle yourself?"

Tommy handed her a stack of files, his expression serious. "These are reports and proposals related to housing reforms and industrial regulations. I need you to comb through them, identify any potential issues, and note anything that requires our immediate attention."

Izzy nodded hesitantly as she began to read through the documents. Her keen eye for detail quickly spotting inconsistencies and areas of concern. As she worked, looking up, Tommy’s gaze remained, a mix of appreciation and trust.

"You've got a sharp mind, Izzy," Tommy remarked, his voice steady. "I knew I could count on you to handle this."

Izzy glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips. But her mind was still clouded with doubt. "Thank you, Tommy. I'm glad to be of help. Is there anything specific you're worried about with these files?"

Tommy leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "There are always people looking to exploit weaknesses in the system. We need to stay ahead of them, ensure that our interests and those of Birmingham are protected.”

Izzy nodded, understanding the gravity of the task. As she continued to review the files, her mind occasionally wandered back to Sophia and the world she had left behind in Brooklyn. But for now, her focus was on the work at hand and the trust that Tommy had placed in her.

Hours passed as they worked together, a sense of camaraderie forming between them. Izzy's diligence and attention to detail impressed Tommy, and he felt more confident knowing she was on his side.

As the day came to a close, Izzy gathered the files and handed them back to Tommy. "I've noted all the key points and potential issues. Let me know if there's anything else you need."

Tommy nodded, a rare smile of gratitude crossing his face. "Thanks, Izzy. You've been a tremendous help today."

Izzy stood, feeling a sense of accomplishment mixed with lingering uncertainty. "Anytime, Tommy. I'll see you tomorrow."

The days at the Shelby Company Limited quickly turned into a whirlwind of activity for Izzy. With the added responsibility of helping Tommy with his parliament work, her workload had increased significantly. The promise she had made to Alfie about visiting within a day or two had already stretched into a week without her realizing it.

Izzy found herself constantly going back and forth between the Shelby Company headquarters and Tommy's office in the parliament building. The parliament work involved reviewing documents related to housing reforms, industrial regulations, and various proposals that required a keen eye and sharp mind. She meticulously combed through the files, identifying potential issues and ensuring that Tommy's interests were safeguarded.

In addition to the parliament work, Izzy had to coordinate the upcoming shipment of Alfie's rum to the U.S through Tommy's men. The added security measures meant extra scrutiny on logistical details, securing transport routes, and ensuring their plans would go off without a hitch. She barely had time to catch her breath as she juggled multiple tasks, her mind always racing with the next item on her to-do list.

Her office phone rang frequently, with Michael calling from time to time to check in and discuss business matters. Each conversation was brief, as Izzy barely had time to address his questions. "Hey, Michael," she answered one call, her voice strained with exhaustion. "What’s the issue now?"

Michael’s voice crackled on the line, filled with frustration. “We’ve got a shipment delay here. Customs is holding up the cargo.”

Izzy sighed, rubbing her temple. “Alright, listen, Michael. Have you tried reaching out to our contact in customs? Sometimes it’s just a matter of a small ‘incentive’ to get things moving.”

“Yeah, I’ll give it a shot. Thanks, Izzy,” Michael replied, his tone lightening with hope.

As the days passed, Izzy found herself barely managing to keep everything in line. There were moments when she would stare blankly at the papers in front of her, exhaustion clouding her vision. Her visits to the boxing gym had become nonexistent, and she would often go straight home to rest after a long day’s work.

Every spare moment she had, her thoughts drifted back to Alfie, and the promise she had made. The guilt of not visiting him weighed heavily on her, but there simply wasn’t enough time in the day to manage all her responsibilities.

One evening, as she trudged home, her body feeling like lead, Izzy caught a glance of herself in a shop window. The reflection staring back at her looked worn out and weary, a far cry from the determined woman she prided herself on being.

At home, she collapsed onto her bed, not bothering to change out of her work clothes. The weight of the day’s tasks pressed down on her, but her mind refused to stop racing. She wondered how long she could keep up this relentless pace, juggling her commitments to Tommy, Alfie, and their secret operations.

Alfie Solomons sat alone in his office at the rum distillery, his mind restless. He had been looking forward to Izzy’s visit, the promise of seeing her again lingering in his thoughts. But days had turned into a week, and still, she hadn’t shown up. A strange mix of disappointment and irritation gnawed at him, feelings he wasn’t accustomed to.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the intricate patterns of the wood ceiling. Alfie was a man of action, not one to sit idly by. The more time passed, the more his curiosity and concern grew. Something must be keeping her busy, he reasoned, but it didn’t quell the unease he felt.

Unable to shake the feeling, he had discreetly arranged for one of his men to follow Izzy again and keep tabs on her. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her; he just needed to know she was safe and what was keeping her from their plans.

As the days dragged on, Alfie’s irritation grew. He summoned one of his most trusted men, a burly figure with a stern face, into his office. The man, loyal and efficient, had been keeping a close eye on Izzy’s daily activities.

“Right, what’s the update on our dear Izzy?” Alfie asked, his tone a blend of casual curiosity and underlying concern.

The man stepped forward, nodding respectfully. “Boss, she’s been working nonstop, running between the Shelby Company offices and Tommy’s parliament office. From what I can tell, she’s been dealing with a mountain of paperwork and has barely had any time for herself.”

Alfie silently absorbed the information, a flicker of annoyance tempered with understanding crossing his features. “And ‘eems like she's avoiding me, yeah? Been bloody ages since we last talked.”

The man hesitated before continuing, “Not avoiding you, boss. Just heavily swamped with work. I’ve seen her go straight home some nights, completely exhausted. She’s got a lot on her plate.”

Alfie’s gaze softened slightly as he leaned back in his chair. The thought of Izzy pushing herself to the brink concerned him more than he wanted to admit. “Right, well, you keep watchin’ her. Let me know if anything changes.”

The man nodded, understanding the gravity of the task. “Will do, boss.”

As the man left the room, Alfie sat in contemplative silence. Izzy’s absence had left an unexpected gap in his daily routine. He admired her dedication and resilience, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of longing—a desire for her company and the warmth she brought into his life. That was something Alfie wasn’t ready to fully acknowledge, even to himself.

He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to stay busy to keep his mind off things. The rum distillery needed overseeing, there were deals to be made, and additional barrels to execute. But in the quiet moments, thoughts of Izzy continued to creep back in, bringing with them a mix of frustration and undeniable admiration.

Days turned into a blur for Izzy at the Shelby Company Limited. The relentless pile of parliament work and her responsibilities with the rum shipment overburdened her mind. Frustration bubbled inside her as she often found herself drifting away from the real reasons she was tangled up in this world.

Her friends, Esme and Lizzy, noticed the strain on Izzy’s face. One afternoon, they made their way to Izzy and Michael’s office, determined to convince her to unwind. They found her balancing stacks of papers and the buzzing phone.

“Girls’ night out,” Esme declared, leaning against the doorframe. “No excuses.”

Lizzy nodded in agreement, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “We all need a break, Izzy. It’s non-negotiable.”

Izzy sighed, her resolve weakening. “Fine, I could use the distraction,” she admitted, setting the papers aside.

That evening, they headed to a beloved Birmingham pub, one protected by the Peaky Blinders. The air was filled with laughter and the sound of clinking glasses. Izzy had dressed the part, donning a sleek, flapper-style dress characteristic of the 1920s, complete with high heels that added a daring flair to her appearance.

Inside, the smell of ale and the crackling fire created a cozy atmosphere as they settled into a corner booth. Drinks were swiftly ordered, and the conversation flowed.

“Tommy’s been driving me mad with all this parliament work,” Izzy ranted to Lizzy, frustration evident in her voice. “Why doesn’t he let you handle some of it?”

Lizzy shrugged, a teasing smile on her face. “He’s got his reasons. Besides, our relationship isn’t like that. He knows I’ve got my hands full elsewhere.”

Oh we know what that is.

Esme chimed in, her laugh infectious, “Plus, anyone not wearing the family name never catches a break around here, huh?”

They bonded over drinks, their spirits lifting with each glass. For once, there were no scheming men, no secret agendas, and no impending threats—just her and her girls, treasuring the rare night of fun.

The night eventually wound down, and Esme and Lizzy were escorted back to the car for their trip home. Living near each other, their return was seamless. Izzy, on the other hand, was dropped off at the hotel where they assumed she still lived. Feeling a sense of invincible freedom, Izzy decided to walk home, the cool night air caressing her face as she strolled, the threat that had been shadowing her slipping from her drunk mind.

One of Alfie’s men, still on her trail, quickly reported her wander to a subordinate. The midnight distillery operations buzzed around Alfie as he cursed under his breath upon hearing the news. Without hesitation, he made his way to her.

Izzy, wobbling in her heels, reveled in the wind's breeze. Her feet ached, prompting her to sit down on a nearby waiting shed, appreciating the brief respite. Just as she considered napping right there, a car honked, jolting her awake.

“Oi! Sleeping in odd places again, are we?” Alfie called out, his voice a mix of sarcasm and concern. Izzy blinked, momentarily believing she was hallucinating.

"Jesus Christ." he cursed softly again, stepping out of the car and instructing his driver to wait. As he approached, the stench of alcohol hit him. Despite her mature mind, she was still so young and wild.

Recognizing him, Izzy beamed, stumbling towards him in an embrace. “Alfie! Finally,” she cheered, her voice slurred but filled with joy. She paid no mind to how he’d found her.

Alfie held her steady, speaking softly, “Missed our meetin’, did ya? What’ve you been up to?”

Izzy drunkenly rambled about her workload, the parliament files, the stress, albeit her words were jumbled. She felt light and unburdened, finding comfort in Alfie’s presence.

Nodding, Alfie guided her into the car. “We’ll get you home, love. Enough of such mischief for one night.”

In the car, the combination of the evening’s events and the warm vehicle air made her feel hot. She shrugged off her coat, revealing a body-hugging dress that caught Alfie's eye for a brief moment before he looked away, a mix of amusement and chastisement in his thoughts.

As the car rolled towards her flat, Izzy’s head rested against the car seat, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Meanwhile, Alfie’s mind wandered to the unpredictable and sometimes exasperating nature of this young woman who had somehow become a significant part of his complex world.

Alfie couldn’t help but shake his head, a mix of concern and curiosity. “What were you thinkin’, gettin’ drunk like that?”

Izzy, still riding the wave of intoxication, giggled softly. “Alfie, it’s the weekend tomorrow,” she slurred, a playful smirk on her lips. “Needed to unwind, y’know? All this stress... couldn’t take it anymore.”

Her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, the combination of alcohol and the heated car causing her to breathe heavily. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, catching Alfie’s attention and fighting his manly urges himself.

Alfie huffed, his voice a mix of frustration and amusement. “Well, love, you certainly know how to unwind. Just don’t make a habit of it, alright?”

Izzy nodded lazily, her eyes half-closed. “Promise, Alfie. Just this once...”

He watched her, a rare moment of vulnerability in his otherwise guarded demeanor. The sight of her relaxed, albeit drunken, state brought a strange sense of protectiveness over him. As the car continued its journey, Alfie kept a watchful eye on Izzy, his mind a mix of admiration and exasperation.

Instructing his driver, he muttered under his breath, “Just get her home safe.”

Throughout the ride, Alfie’s thoughts lingered on Izzy. As the car pulled up in front of Izzy’s flat, Alfie carefully helped her out, Izzy's arm wrapped around his waist for support. He fumbled with her keys, trying to unlock the door while balancing her weight. After a brief struggle, he finally managed to get the door open.

“In we go, love,” Alfie muttered, guiding her inside.

Izzy giggled, leaning heavily against him. “Thanks, Alfie,” she slurred, her words barely coherent.

Alfie instructed his driver to go home, deciding it was best to stay and make sure Izzy didn't pass out in a precarious state. “Alright, you can head off. I’ll handle it from 'er,” he said, his tone begrudging but resolute.

Inside her flat, Alfie guided Izzy to the living room, gently lowering her onto the couch. “Stay put, alright? I’ll get you some water,” he instructed, heading to the kitchen to fetch a glass.

Izzy’s head lolled to the side, a dreamy smile on her face. “Alfie, you’re too good to me,” she mumbled.

He returned with the water, sitting beside her and holding the glass to her lips. “Drink up, love. You’ll thank me in the mornin’.”

She drank obediently, her eyes flickering with gratitude. “You really didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured, her voice softening.

Seeing her in this vulnerable state, Alfie felt a mix of frustration and tenderness. He cursed under his breath again, knowing it would indeed be a long night. But as he watched over her, ensuring she was comfortable, he couldn’t shake the feeling of protectiveness that had taken hold.

They found their way to her bed room. As Izzy lay on the bed, she suddenly stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Can’t sleep in this,” she mumbled, her words slurred. She wobbled to her feet, making her way to the closet.

Alfie watched, a mix of curiosity and concern etched on his face. “Izzy, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and cautious.

She giggled, rummaging through her closet. “Need my nightwear,” she replied, her movements unsteady. Without a second thought, she began to take off her dress, much to Alfie’s surprise.

“Bloody hell,” Alfie muttered under his breath, caught off guard by the sudden display. He turned his gaze away, fighting the temptation to look.

Izzy, now standing in her matching black lingerie, continued to search for her nightwear. The sight of her in such a vulnerable state made Alfie curse again, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. She fumbled with her nightgown, Alfie stepped forward to help her, his mind still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. He handed her the nightgown, trying to maintain his composure. “Here, love. Let’s get you sorted.”

Izzy took the nightgown, her eyes meeting his with a playful glint. Without warning, she grabbed Alfie by the collar and pulled him into a passionate kiss. It was sudden, catching him completely off guard. For a moment, Alfie froze, his mind racing with conflicting emotions.

But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he found himself leaning into the kiss, his hands resting on her waist. Izzy’s arms slowly moved from his collar to wrap around his neck, deepening the embrace. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

As they finally broke the kiss, Izzy’s eyes locked onto his, a mix of vulnerability and boldness in her gaze. “I’ve been wanting to do that for some time now,” she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

Alfie’s heart pounded in his chest, a rare moment of tenderness washing over him. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Izzy,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly.

Izzy giggled, her arms still wrapped around his neck. “Stay the night, Alfie. Please,” she asked, her voice soft and sincere.

Alfie sighed, his resolve weakening. “Alright, love. I’ll stay.”

He helped her into the nightgown, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to maintain his composure. Once she was dressed, he carefully laid her down on the bed, pulling the blanket over her. He then settled beside her, feeling a warmth in his heart that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

She reached out and embraced Alfie, catching him off guard. He froze for a moment, the sudden turn of events leaving him momentarily speechless. Izzy’s head rested on his chest, and he could feel her warm breath against his skin.

“I’ve missed you, Alfie,” she blurted out, her voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and boldness. “These busy days... I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

Alfie’s heart pounded in his chest as he gently brushed her hair with his fingers, his other arm wrapping around her back. He did miss her as well. Probably more than words can say. Still, this was an unexpected setup, one that left him feeling both protective and conflicted. He listened intently as Izzy rambled about her feelings, her words a mix of drunken honesty and pent-up emotions.

“I’ve been wanting to leave Michael for a long time now,” she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. “I just want to go back home to Brooklyn.”

Alfie’s heart wrenched at her words, a pain he hadn’t anticipated. The thought of her leaving, of losing the connection they had built, was almost too much to bear. He swallowed hard, his voice vulnerable as he spoke. “If you leave for Brooklyn, you’ll be leavin' me as well.”

Izzy looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and confusion. “I don’t want to leave you, Alfie. But I don’t know what to do.”

Alfie sighed, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her back. “We’ll figure it out, love. Just... don’t make any rash decisions. Not tonight.”

She nodded, her head resting back on his chest. The warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat provided a sense of comfort she hadn’t felt in a long time.

His mind raced with thoughts and emotions, but for now, he focused on the woman in his arms. He heard her sigh deeply, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and sadness. “I don’t want Michael to come back to Birmingham, but he will soon,” she confessed, peaking Alfie’s curiosity.

He looked down at her, his brow furrowing. “Why’s that, love?”

Izzy’s eyes filled with a mix of resignation and determination. “Because when he does, I’ll have to go back to the hotel and do things I don’t want to do with him,” she stated bluntly, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Alfie’s blood began to boil at her words, a possessive anger rising within him. He knew what exactly she was talking about. He hugged her tightly, not wanting to let her go. “You don’t have to do anythin' you don’t want to, Izzy,” he said, his voice firm and protective.

Izzy looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing. She shifted, positioning herself on top of him, her hands resting on his chest. “I want to be with you, Alfie,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Before he could respond, she leaned in and kissed him deeply, pouring all her unsaid feelings and tension into the embrace. Alfie’s mind raced, but he couldn’t deny the connection they shared. He kissed her back, his hands gently caressing her back, holding her close. She slowly moved on top of him, not breaking the kiss as it deepened further. Alfie felt her purposely grinding her cunt against his rock-hard pants.

As they finally broke the kiss, Alfie’s eyes locked onto hers, a mix of frustration and desire evident in his gaze. But then, he gently pulled back, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Izzy, you’re drunk,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “We outta stop. I don’t want you to regret this in the mornin'.”

Izzy’s eyes filled with a mix of frustration and longing, bitting her lower lip while staring at his. She did not answer, and proceeded to unbutton his shirt one by one, earning a deep groan from Alfie. He would be lying if he said he did not want this. His grip at her waist became a bruising one, as he fight his carnal urges, but Izzy continued to undress him. Still on top of him, she starts to remove her night gown as well, sitting on Alfie's already hardened bulge.

Alfie held her lovingly, letting her unbuckle his belt and pulling down his pants, revealing his hardened cock, she smirks and places herself in between his legs. Alfie groaned as he felt her palm wrap around him and stroking him slowly. "Fuckin' hell, Izzy." He huffed.

"Mmm... let's just have this night for ourselves, alright?" She seductively whispered, earning an exasperated nod from the old man. A moan escaped from his lips when she started placing his shaft inside her warm and wet mouth, hollowing her cheeks and bobbing her head up and down. He carefully grabbed her head and helped her bob her head in his throbbing cock, feelings the waves of unimaginable pleasure every time.

Izzy looked up to him while doing her thing, her gaze met his, turning him on even more. She could feel him getting close to eruption, she smiled and stopped with a pop. "No, no... Not just yet." she went back on top of Alfie, his concerned eyes before were replaced with a hungry one.

"You like being on top, sweetheart?" Alfie teased with a smug smirk on his face, reaching out to unclasp Izzy's lingerie and pulling her underwear down, throwing it all on the floor. He kicked his pants away as well as his shirt, both of them are fully naked now.

"And you're surprised?" Izzy said, scoffing playfully, earning a growl from Alfie. Holding her hips in place with both of his hands, she tucked her feet under his thighs for stability as she slowly pushes her wet cunt, taking his thick cock slowly. Her eyebrows furrowed as both the pain and pleasure hit her, slowly adjusting to Alfie's size and taking him all in. His hands caressed her thighs lovingly, noticing and feeling her adjust. She wanted more of him, becoming more wet as the seconds go by.

She slowly thrust her hips up and down his shaft with a loud moan escaping from her lips. Alfie huffed and grunted each time she rides him. It felt right. For the both of them, this was bound to happen. He gritted his teeth when he saw her tits bouncing along her rhythm, turning him on even more. Still holding her hips, he thrusted into her faster as well, the sound of her ass cheeks being slapped becomes quicker and quicker. Hitting her spot repeatedly.

"A-Alfie... I... I.." she moaned in between her breath. Alfie felt her clench around his cock, nearing her release.

"Let it go, baby... Let it.. go.." Alfie quicken his pace as well, wanting Izzy to release while he's inside her. Their moans filled the room along with their heavy breathing and sounds of their skin slapping against each other.

"Alf-" Izzy unable to call out his whole name, shut her eyes as she cum. His cock was dripping from her release, earning a playful smile from Alfie who is still helping her bounce up and down.

"I'm gettin' close as well, love.." his breathing getting fainter. Izzy nodded and resumed thrusting her hips up and down his cock. Her sweat was dripping down her forehead, wiping it away and locking her gaze with Alfie. She could tell that he was already near his release, with each thrust going deeper and deeper.

Alfie rubbed her arms, and looked at her rather desperately. Knowing what this meant, she nodded, giving him her full consent. "It's okay, Alfie.."

Alfie did not hesitate, he slammed her hips down with his cock twitching and came inside her. Izzy's head fell back with her eyes half open and mouth agape, feeling his loads of hot cum shooting inside her, some of it oozing out of her cunt. It was a feeling she never experienced before.

She plopped down on his chest, both of them panting. Alfie pulled her into an embrace, covering their naked bodies with her blanket. Neither of them had anything to say. Only their breathing filled the air. He felt Izzy's fingertips tracing the tattoos on his chest, she was not even looking at him. He did not mind that.

Having this young woman to himself and in between his arms was more than enough for him. His mind wandered as he stared at the ceiling of Izzy's room. It finally happened and his feelings for her were confirmed.

Next Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/followsfrankiep/773364695196450816/haunted-alfie-solomons-x-reader

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