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#tom hardy alfie solomons
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daemonsdarksister · 9 months
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NO FOOOKING FIGHTING
Tommy Shelby - Peaky Blinders
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oscarwildebutwilder · 4 months
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Did I?
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Say it Dirty - An Alfie Solomons/Reader One Shot Story.
For my babes @cillmequick and @zablife. Enjoy!
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Words - 1,467
Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
Alfie. One could never use the word tall to describe the gangster rum distiller of Camden town, but suffice to say, he is big. He takes up space. He has presence. Alfie is so wide in both physical width and the enormity of his personality, he fills whatever room he happens to be within.  
Everything about Alfie is imposing. That is why you fell for him in the first place. What gets your blood tingling with desire the most, though... 
“Next lad!”  
Oh, that enormous voice. He doesn’t shout often, but when he does, it sends your knees to jelly.  
“Next lad!” 
He’s handing out the weekly wages, the precise count out of pounds, shillings and pence into a small paper envelope, handing them to each of his employees for their, ahem, “baking” endeavours. The smell of the rum within the large casks fills your nose as you walk past them down in the dingy distillery, moving past the line and entering Alfie’s office.  
“Bear with me, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even need to look up from his desk to know you’ve arrived. He can smell the sweet notes of your perfume in a sea of rum and sweaty men a mile off. “Just gotta get these fellas paid, innit.”  
You perch on the edge of his desk, his hand moving to stroke your thigh fleetingly. “Next lad!” God, you’ll melt off the edge of the desk if you’re not careful. “Is there a fuckin’ reason you’re gorping, boy?”  
“Um, n-no, Mr. Solomons.”  
Alfie lowers his spectacles, raising his eyebrows. “You seriously comin’ in here for your pay, and giving me missus the once over with your beady little eyes while you’re here, eh? Nah, son. Off you fuck, while you still have them legs to carry ya. Just know, though. If I ever see you lookin’ at her like that again, yeah, it’ll be the last fuckin’ time you have eyes, mate.”  
The young man takes his wages with a stiff gulp. “S-s-sorry, Mr. Solomons.”  
“Ain’t me you was lookin’ at like a slab of meat.” He folds his arms, jerking his head in your direction, a smile spreading beneath his beard. “Apology should be directed at me wife, really.” 
“I apologise, Mrs. Solomons.” He’s steadier when talking to you, wringing his cap between his hands nervously all the same.  
Alfie studies you, watching you nod. “Alright, fuck off outta here. Next lad!” He scurries from the office, your husband continuing to hand out each wage envelope and mark it off with a pencil strike in the ledger. With the last lad paid, he stands, moving before you.  
“Now, how about I take my little turtle dove out for a bit of nosh, yeah?” Well, that’s the sole reason you came to meet him from work, after all. He goes for a quick wash and to change his shirt before you leave, yet when he returns, he finds you not quite as ready to leave as he is.  
The double take at seeing you sitting atop his desk naked is priceless, eyes touring your bare curves with much interest. “My darlin’, I dunno what kind of fuckin’ restaurant you think we’re going to, right, but it ain’t the kind where the customers sit about naked.”  
“Can’t help it,” you purr, pulling him close, hands smoothing over his fresh shirt. “See it’s when you raise your voice, Alfie, when you get defensive of me, too. It does things to me, that voice of yours.”  
He looks quietly thrilled at that. You don’t quite know how one can raise an eyebrow with cocky intent, but Alfie nails it every time. “Yeah, that right, love? You like the sound of my voice? Why don’t you sit on my cock while I talk to you, then?” 
Grasping his shirt, you pull him close. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, Alf.”  
Your lips meet in a slow tempest, all heat and honey, his hands beginning to glide where his eyes have already roamed, touring your bare flesh keenly. When his mouth follows, you whimper, each kiss sinking into your skin, the soft of his beard coaxing tickles over your flesh. Hot hands adorned in cool gold knead at your thighs, fingers slipping between.  
The sweet sting of him toying with your clit radiates, little pricks of pleasure trickling down your spine, puddling at those clever fingers, his teeth sharp at your neck. “Always did love my hands, didn’t ya, dove?”  
You hum in appreciative response against his tongue, mouths locked, those fingers you do indeed love so much thrusting within. He opens you, pushing greedily, his raspy chuckle low and self-satisfied at each little mewl that pours from your mouth like wine, your cunt clenching around each rotation as he roots those thick digits, so inordinately deep.  
“Fuck, get in the chair,” you pant, hands moving to slide his braces down, undoing his trousers. “I need to ride you. Now.” 
He chuckles, his thumb rolling over your clit sending sparks to skitter wildly. “Ain’t half a demanding little mare tonight, aint’cha?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe, Alfie letting his trousers and undergarments fall to pool at his ankles, sitting down in the chair and guiding you astride him. “But then I always did know what’s good for me.” Taking him, you squeeze the thick of his rigidity, pushing him to your glistening opening and dropping down until you’re full.  
You can feel every inch of him pressing your soft walls, thick and heavy, his hand weaving into your hair and pulling until you arch for him, bending like a crescent moon. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, look at that body bow for me. Can’t wait to watch these pretty little tits bounce while you ride me, darlin’.”  
His mouth devours you, nipples sucked and bitten, his free hand grasping your hip as you begin to roll against him, his girth sending sensations to flutter up your spine, fizzing like champagne bubbles, the hint of teeth upon the peak of your nipple sending glimmers to join them. “Ain’t even half started properly yet, and this sweet little cunt is like a fuckin’ lake. Yeah, look at you. So fucking pretty for me, ain’t ya? So pretty and sweet, split open on me.”  
His words mist hot beneath your skin, rising like steam, the torrent of seductive filth unabating. “Think I could have you like this on me for hours, and I wouldn’t get tired of watching you gripping tight on my cock. And you would, wouldn’t ya? Yeah, you’d keep giving, my beautiful, cock hungry little doe.”  
His thumb stretches, and it sends a rain of pleasure pelting through you when he brings it to your clit, circling, your bundle twitching against the stroke, your toes gripping on the floorboards beneath as you begin to ride him with more determination. “That’s it, sweet. Show me how much you love this cock.”  
The moan seeps from your lips, sweet and slow, like thick syrup, the clasp of your cunt tight upon him, the sound of him punching into the very wet of you lewd, mixing with the slap of your arse smacking hard against his solid thighs. It’s a symphony of utter sin, his groans adding delicious baritone, your tits bouncing, his hands moving to clutch them as his tongue swipes your cleavage.  
His touch has lightning forking from nerve to nerve, your ministrations greedy in desperate need to come around him, wet his cock further with the dew of your orgasm, your hands fisting tight in his hair, a shift of his hips sending him deeper into the flutter of your cunt.  
You sob his name, and he pushes even deeper, so heavy and overwhelming within you. “Come on, my beautiful little darlin’. Come pretty for me on this cock.”  
Oh, how you do, the pleasure burning neon through your nerves, a sky of colours painted over you as it topples you completely. The scream it pulls from you has him twitching, and he becomes caught in the tide of it, cock pressed filthily deep into the rhythmic clasping of you, spilling hard, everything tense undoing and softening to fluid bliss. You both swim in it, adrift on the endless ocean, panting against one another.  
“Fuck, that worked up a right appetite,” he finally breaths, kissing your neck as you roll your eyes. 
“Do you ever cease thinking about your stomach?” 
He chuckles, low and dirty. “Yeah. I often think about how good me wifey feels when she fucks me like she just did. And you can count on it, treacle, that I’ll be thinkin’ about it for the rest of the night an’ all.” 
The way he keeps stealing heated glances at you all the way through dinner, you’re left in little doubt of that, too.  
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angelofthenight · 4 months
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Alfie, to Tommy: Ur in (y/n)’s dms, I’m on google looking for nutrient rich soil I’d keep them in if they were a worm. We are not the same
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imaginesmai · 11 months
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Alfie Solomons - Night adventures
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I've been sick for week now with the worst stomach bug ever, and this has been on my mind for a few days! Welcome back Alfie to my blog!
Plot: Alfie doesn't come home from work and you worry something has happened, so you decided to go to the bakery.
Warning: Alfie's vocabulary is just saying fuck, really.
The streets were empty, too late for the common citizens and too early for the unfortunate first-shift workers. You had only found a beggar sleeping in a pile of boxes and two men trying to get home stumbling through the pavement. The silence, the darkness, would have been a good reason to turn back and worry about him under the covers, warm and safe. When a cat jumped from a window and landed on a car, you actually took a few steps back.
But Cyril stared at the menace until the animal hissed its way back to wherever it belonged.
Swallowed in one of Alfie’s long coats, with his hat covering your face, you finished the thirty minutes’ walk to the bakery. A faint light was coming from the top floor, and anyone would have thought bakers were starting their day early.
You knew it was your husband, Alfie, who hadn’t finished his yet. There was a man posted on the back entrance, the one you always used when you came to see him unexpected. It was closer to his office, it was more discreet, and besides, you knew Ollie. He would be one less problem for you that night.
When the boy saw you approach him, his whole back tensed. His hand made it to the holster on his hip before he recognized Cyril and your soft smile, once you were close enough. The soft street light let you see his panicked stare.
“What – Y/N, what the fuck are you doin’ here?” he quickly grabbed you by your arm and, checking both sides, pushed you inside the bakery. “It’s fuckin’ two in the mornin’!”
“I am aware of that, Ollie, since I also own a watch” you told him, taking down your hat.
“How did you get – does he know you’re here?” Ollie, who had been almost asleep leaning against the door, was now growing agitated. “You didn’ brin’ a car. You walked?”
“Me and Cyril, yeah”
The familiar warmth of the bakery felt good against your sore muscles. Not only you had half-jogged half-ran for thirty minutes, but the tension of the night and the worries for him had made the cold weather of November seep into your bones. You weren’t about to let Ollie notice how glad you were to be finally somewhere safe, because that would only prove a point you were trying to avoid.
“Y/N, it’s the middle of the night”
“So it is for my husband, who was supposed to be home with me. But that big head must have forgotten his own watch at home, given he’s still here”
“He’s not alone. Someone came to see him, and the meetin’… yeah, it was longer than wha’ he thought”
“Oi, wha’ that noise ‘bout, yeah?” a booming voice came from the floor above you, the door of his office banging open. “Didn’ I ask for silence?”
Alfie, in all his grumpy and broody glory, leaned against the railing and saw both of you. You weren’t surprised to see he was still wearing his working clothes, a small, stained pinny wrapped around his waist. His hair was sticking in different directions from being tugged at, and his face complemented his mood when he locked eyes with you.
Of course, Cyril tried to reach him and let his presence be known with loud barks. You passed his leash to Ollie and made your way up to your husband’s office. The metal stairs echoed under your shoes, and even if you kept your eyes on them, you felt his on you every second.
Far from being intimidated or angry, you felt your worries melting away. He usually came home before the sun set – had picked that tradition years ago once you were officially married and hadn’t missed a day. But it had been a rough week for the both of you, and when he hadn’t shown up, you had feared the worst. Patiently, you had waited and called his office. After not receiving an answer and not hearing the door, you had decided to check for yourself.
You weren’t naïve enough to go alone, but since there wasn’t anyone around to accompany you, Cyril had been your bodyguard for the night. Many things could have happened. Some of them you could imagine, some remember from past experiences because of his enemies’ retaliations. All of them were present in Alfie’s eyes as you reached the top of the stairs and met him face to face.
“Hello”
His nostrils flared and he pressed his lips in a tight line, but behind all of that there was just fear. You waited until he looked at every part of your body, from your soft smile to the hem of your skirt. One of your hands took his fist and didn’t let go until he held it. Alfie didn’t let his frown go as he raised it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.
“Aren’ your suppos’ to be in bed” he growled against your hand.
“With you, but you didn’t come and I was worried” you explained, moving a step closer to him. “Called and no one answered. I didn’t know if… so I came to check. Brought Cyril with me”
“Stupid dog knows you ain’t suppos’ to leave” Alfie looked down at Cyril, and his eyes softened. “You alrigh’, yeah? Nothin’ happen?”
“I’m fine. Just tired. And worried about you”
“Come ‘ere”
You fell into his arms and the remains of worry and tension left your body. He smelt like rum, bread and sweat, like home. You closed your eyes when his hand found the back of your head and pressed it against his shoulder. Later, you would probably have a long conversation about what you had done. Not only it had been reckless, but if you had been right, there wasn’t much you could have done.
His life came with highs and downs, and you had been there enough to know them. That doesn’t meant you had grown used to the feeling of not knowing if he was fine or not, if he was alive. When you hugged him closer, your arms around his middle, you let him know that you were glad.
Someone opened the door and you saw Tommy Shelby walking out of Alfie’s office. You didn’t like that man, neither did he like you, but you both respected each other enough. Eventually, their relationship would go south, either because of his or Alfie’s biggest interest; and you just hoped it wouldn’t go too south.
Alfie noticed his stare and turned around. Instinctively, you were covered by his huge back, not seeing anything but the sweaty locks at the back of his neck.
“I believe we were in the middle of something”
“And I believe it’s time for my husband to come home” you said from behind Alfie, trying to move around. Effectively, Alfie moved with you.
“Your’ gonna ‘ave to excuse my wife, mate. She’s right, ain’t she” Alfie said. He gripped your hand again and made you stay in place.
When it came to you and the business, Alfie Solomons had always had it clear. You had walked into his life and turned everything around, and if needed to, he would leave it all behind if you asked to. You always came first, no matter what. He could come home late, share his matters with you and attend to political galas by your side, but if you asked something, he could not say no.
So he stared down at Tommy, who had been arguing for the past six hours. He had just showed up when he was about to close the bakery, and the bouquet of flowers he had bought you was now sad and forgotten in the storage room.
“Alfie” Tommy warned him. “We need to close the deal. I’m not about to risk half my percentage if you aren’t willing to take the risk”
“The only risk I’m takin’ tonig’ is this lovely lady back ‘ome”
“You don’t get to kick me out! I am –“
Before Tommy could grow any more aggressive, he had Alfie’s gun pressed tightly against his chin. The baker was a few inches shorter than him, but somehow, he stared down at Tommy, daring him to keep talking. The Shelby brother looked at you with your arms crossed, biting back his next words.
“Listen, now, cause I believe, this¸ right, this is my fuckin’ bakery. My fuckin’ rum. Money. Business. And that’s my fuckin’ wife your’ lookin’ at, so unless you wan’ to go ‘ome wit’ one less eye, Shelby, stop fuckin’ lookin’ at ‘er”
“Get your fucking hands – “
“Shut the fuck up! You, barkin’ orders, at me?! In my fuckin’ work?!” Alfie screamed into his face, making Tommy take a few steps back. When the man once more met your eyes with the same, disgusted face, Alfie struck him with the gun. “Are you fuckin’ deaf?! Don’ look at her or I’ll rip your eyes out with my nails!”
Cyril barked as if he supported his owner’s words. You looked down and noticed Ollie was no longer alone. There were three other men, that had appeared out of thin air, at the bottom of the stairs. All of them looked ready to climb it in less than a second.
Not too far away, Tommy’s men would be close. It wouldn’t be the first time Alfie got into trouble because of you, or the last. His protectiveness was founded, but sometimes he went a little overboard. Tommy had looked at you many times before, and had been threatened each time he had done it.
Some part of you wondered if he was a sucker for Alfie’s threats or was really looking for them to become true.
Before your night could escalate into bigger events, you moved behind Alfie and wrapped your hands around his raised arm. You had gone to the bakery to find out if Alfie was there, to retrieve him from his pile of work and hopefully catch a few hours of sleep by his side. After a long day of own work, you were tired and in need of some peace.
“Let’s just go home”
Under your touch, Alfie relaxed and dropped the gun. He kept his eyes locked on Tommy and the man was smart enough to clean the blood of his lip and turn back. You guessed his men should be on the main entrance, and you were really thankful you had chosen the back one.
You watched him disappear. Watched, in silence, as the group of men that had surrounded you went back to their corners where you couldn’t see them. Alfie didn’t bother retrieving anything from his office, just closed the door and let you lead the way down the stairs.
Once you were down, he nodded to Ollie and the boy disappeared, carrying Cyril with him.
“That was dangerous, pet” he said, his voice soft. There was a rough, scared edge you had grown to notice through the years. “You, yeah, you can’t jus’ come ‘ere. You need to tell me”
“I know, Alf. But I did call. And you always answer. I knew you had a meeting and since you didn’t come home, I didn’t know what to think” you told him, not giving him. “What if it was the other way? What if I didn’t come home one night? Wouldn’t you come looking for me too?”
“I’d burn down fuckin’ Camden, luv, you know tha’”
“Then you can’t get angry at me, not at this. I was careful, nothing happened”
It hadn’t happened, but it could. Not only Alfie’s enemies. Night in Camden Town held more dangers than mobsters or gangs, ones that didn’t know who you were married to and weren’t afraid of your husband. It was irresponsible, dangerous, and you knew better.
It wasn’t the time, though, and Alfie knew it.
“Alrigh’, pet, alrigh’. Jus’ try not to send me to an early gave, yeah?”
“You won’t get rid of me even in a grave, Alfie Solomons”
His laugh echoed in the empty bakery. Alfie wrapped his coat closer to your body, not saying anything about your choices of clothes, and put his hat back into your head. Always the gentleman he opened the door for you and dragged you closer to his side.
You didn’t take the path you had walked, but the opposite way. Ollie’s car was waiting for you at the other end of the street, Cyril probably a looming threat in the backseat ready to tackle Alfie as soon as he opened the door. Finally in peace, you wrapped your arm around his middle and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Love you” you whispered, looking up at him.
“Yeah, luv you too, don’ I”
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated!
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charliehoennam · 2 months
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A/N: fulfilling @j23r23's request made here. Happy reminder that requests are open!!
Summary: Alfie comes homes late at night and finds his pregnant wife sleeping on the couch and confesses his fear to his unborn child
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader
Warning: sexual connotations towards the end, language, pregnancy themes
SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG
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Alfie was never one to be easily scared. He had a tough upbringing and, being the man of the house to his two older sisters, Rebecca and Debora, and their divorced mother, he had to grow up fast.
His father had left before Alfie was even born, leaving his son to become the only man of the house.
Sure, his mother was quite the mama bear herself. But there had always been resentment from Alfie towards his unacquainted father for leaving his mother to fend for her children on her own.
Alfie vowed that, if he ever became a father, he would support and help the mother of his child however he could, no matter how unconventional.
You felt like the luckiest woman in the world to be married to him. Alfie was nothing like most men. Most men would participate very little in these affairs, believing them to be limited only to women, but not Alfie. And if anyone dissed him for it, he'll tell those cowards to fuck right off because he wouldn't leave you alone in one of the most painful moments of your life.
It wasn't very common for you either. Part of you was so worried about just having him present for the birth. You worried he wouldn't want to go anywhere near you after it - obviously after you've healed - or have another child.
"Love, after the war I've seen, there is no amount of blood that can scare me away. Now, I won't pry if you don't want me to, of course. I'll respect whatever boundaries you have. But I would like to be there to hold your hand at the very least," he'd say.
He was hellbent on getting you all the best doctors and only the most experienced midwives to assist with pregnancy and the labor.
He didn't avoid making love to you because you were pregnant. It surprisingly turned him him on, made him certain about getting a baby back into you as soon as he could.
Every night, he came home to you with your favorite sweet and treated you to a warm bath together entitled to a foot rub and back rub just before bed.
Every afternoon, he'd meet you exactly at 3 when the weather wasn't too sunny or cold for a walk around the square or the block.
Every morning, once it became harder for you to bend over, he'd kneel down every time to get your heels on for you and compliment how beautiful you looked.
Regardless of the arguments you'd have, he was always consistent with his help. It didn't matter how he felt, he put his feelings aside as he reminded himself that they were nothing compared to the human growing in your body.
Your unborn child had reminded him of his sisters struggles during their terms. Crying over their husbands' affairs, neglected and alone, desperately wondering how they would raise the child. He was only a boy at the time, but he made sure to remember their names.
Once older and stronger, he tracked down all the men responsible for breaking his sisters' hearts and punished them with a beat-down they'd never forget. He considered offing them, but he figured the very least they could do is provide financial support. So, before they could even speak right or breathe through a healed nose, he put them into jobs his contacts proposed especially to him in order to keep a close on them.
That was simply Alfie's nature. Protective and vengeful.
Despite barely having to lift a finger for anything ever since Alfie hired an entire team to assist you, your body still felt exhausted and heavy from the weight of the growing baby in your belly.
You found yourself sat on the couch with Cyril snoring peacefully at your feet, warmed by the crackling fireplace before you.
You wanted to lie in your bed and rest your swollen feet in the comfortable warmth of your cotton linens, but Alfie still wasn't home. You worried when he got home late.
It took one look at the winding wooden stairs to convince you to swing your legs up on the couch, stretching them over the plush cushions.
Closing the heavy book in your hand, you tucked it snug between your side and the back of the couch for a quick shut-eye.
When Alfie arrived home, he tried to be as quiet as possible. He wasn't sure if you'd gone to bed, but he did know you had trouble sleeping without him. Your limited sleep positions were nothing as comfortable as snuggling up to his side.
Locking the door, he hung up his coat and hat. Just before he could make it to the first step of the stairs, he heard Cyril's snoring coming from the living room. That's when he noticed the light radiating from the fireplace, dancing against your skin as you slept soundly.
He stood in the door watching you for a moment, basking in the image of your sleeping frame. The warmth of the fireplace could not compete with of that which spread through his chest.
Alfie smiled to himself as he gazed upon you, his eyes admiring every crevice and hair on your face. The line of your nose, the eyelashes you'd bat at him, the shape of your lips and the faint curve of your smile lines. He loved knowing he'd been the main cause of those particularly.
But, as his gaze moved down to your protruding belly, he was reminded how close the day was. He wondered how the months flew by so fast.
He felt like he had so much time to prepare for fatherhood, but he felt just as hopeless as when you first told him about the baby.
Stepping into the living room, he walked over quietly to join Cyril on the floor in front of the couch.
He stared into the fireplace as cyril shifted to rest his head on Alfie's lap - his laziest greeting yet.
Alfie sat on one side, leaving his opposite leg bent to rest his arm over his knee. Your belly was just inches away.
Moving his gaze back your clothed bump, he sighed heavily.
"You know, I never met my father, right," he whispered to the unborn child. "I think it's wise you know that now, 'fore you come out. Didn't have one growing up, see? So I 'avent got the slightest idea of how to be one."
Lured from your nap by Alfie's voice, you slowly blinked your eyes open. Although Alfie's head of hair was all you saw, you realized he wasn't talking to you and he couldn't see you were awake.
Eavesdropping wasn't very polite, but you couldn't help yourself. You didn't want to stop him, but hearing him to the baby in you was quite heartwarming so you decided to let Alfie have a bonding moment of his own.
"Truth is you got me downright scared," he continued. "Even after months, I still am downright terrified and you ain't even 'ere yet... I know it's a lot to ask, yeah, especially since you're still in there, blissfully unaware of the horrors of the world. But I give you my word I'll try my best to be the best for you and your mum. I hope you can understand that even when you decide to hate me whenever I give you an earful. Though I doubt I can do it. Think your mum will have to sort you out," he mumbled with a playful smirk. "I'll try my best for you, yeah? I just hope it's enough."
Alife's smirk faded as she gazed at your belly. He felt pathetic, venting to an unborn child as if that would solve all his problems. Alfie hated admitted, and he would never admit it to anyone but you, but he was terrified of becoming a father.
You didn't blame him; you had your own fears as well, so you could understand why this precious and fragile life had him so frightened.
He still hadn't noticed you were awake or that you had heard his confession. Until you lifted a hand to stroke the hair on the back of his head.
" 'eard all that, did ya?"
He didn't exactly blush, but he did feel warmth racing around his face with embarrassment.
"You're going to be a great father, Alfie" you answered. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But as long as we're together and we have each other, we can get through anything."
"Yeah, I know, love," Alfie nodded and sighed. He hated talking about his emotions, even if it was to the only person he could trust blindly. "I just don't want to be a disappointment like my father, if you could even call 'im that much."
"You won't be, and I'll tell you why. You're nothing like him," you smiled, carding your fingers through his brown locks. "You're a good man, Alf. I know you do what you have to do out there, but what matters to me is the man you are in here. And in here, you're a good man. And I wouldn't want to be carrying anyone's child. I'm honored to be the mother of our babe."
"You really mean that?" he smiled trying to look over his shoulder at you, as far as his neck - and age - allowed.
"Every word. You're worried enough to ask your sisters and the midwives for help, Alf. Not many men care to even worry about that sorta thing."
"I'm not like most men," he smirked feeling a sense of pride. "How'd you know about that though?"
"Becca told me you been meeting her for tea every week for advice."
"I fucking knew it. I knew she'd blabber off to you," he chuckled shyly.
"It's nothing to ashamed of, love. I actually find your level of concern and willingness to help in whichever way extremely attractive," you smirked stroking the sensitive skin on his neck with your finger.
"Do you now?" He grinned mischievously knowing exactly where this was headed. One of the perks that came with your pregnancy, in the later stages of it, was the sharp peak of sexual desires.
There were no more worries about you getting pregnant - too late for that now - and seeing your belly swollen, with his child that he put inside you, only made him wish he could put more and more.
"I think I like where this is headed."
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Saga!! You’re baaaack!! Lovely to see you around these parts again hun 😘 If you’re in the writing mood, can I interest you in a little gif of our favourite Camden based reprobate as inspiration? 😉 xxx
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Thank you love! Good to be back (and make my favourite Camden gangster talk nonsense in my fics 🤭🤭🤭)
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“Alfie…”
“That is still a ‘no’, luv, all right, and that is final.”
“Alfie Solomons, I am your wife!”
“Playin’ the wife card, are we, right, but two can play this game, sweetheart, yeah? Now, I ain’t one to play dirty, right, and don’t you roll those pretty eyes of yours at me, ‘cause I know what you’re about to say next and the answer’s still bloody ‘no’!”
“Alfie, I am begging you…!”
“Oh, now she’s beggin’, ain’t she, isn’t that a clever thing to do to your husband, right, makin’ ‘im feel all sorts of notions just to win the argument, right, now listen to me, Mrs. Solomons, you women are a clever little breed, right, entirely overlooked and undervalued, yeah, I realise that, luv, an’ I can see that ‘cause you yourself are exceptionally clever, my love, so much so that you went an’ married a clever man, right, a trait that doesn’t apply too often to my kind… There she goes and rolls her eyes again, bloody hell, come back here, woman!”
“No!”
“Come back here at once, ya vexin’ creature, an’ no stompin’ on the bloody stairs, you’ll wake the dogs!”
“Don’t bring the dogs into this!”
“I’ll do as I damn well please in my own fuckin’ house that I paid for!”
“You, Alfie Solomons, are unbelievable!”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment and you know it!”
“Hush now, luv, let’s not argue, right, ‘cause I can take no more of this–”
“Alfie!”
“Right, an’ I can be the bigger person here, darlin’, and to say I love an’ cherish you more than life itself would be an understatement–”
“Unbelievable!”
“So I forgive ya.”
“Go to hell!”
“How many times must I tell ya I already got the ticket done and paid for?!”
“I swear on my brothers, Alfie, I will join you there, because I’ll bloody go and murder my own husband if his nonsense continues!”
“Right! Fuck! Now that right there is just fuckin’ brilliant, right, ‘cause your lovin’ brother is what started the whole fuckin’ thing!”
“Alfie Solomons, you put on a clean shirt right this instance and accompany me to my brother’s wedding or I swear to God, I’ll gut ya with a butter knife!”
“John bloody Shelby gets married at least every other October, what fuckin’ difference does it make if I come or not?!”
“You take that back!”
“Why should I fuckin’ take it back, right, if it’s true?!”
“A butter knife, Alfie Solomons, I swear to God!”
“Naaah, but do ya promise, dearest?! ‘Cause it’s a lovely set your Tommy got us for our anniversary, shame if it fuckin’ goes to waste…! What are ya laughin’ about now?”
“Nothin’… Oh God, Alfie, I bloody love you, you know that?”
“That a trick or somethin’…?”
“No! I just… God, Tommy always said I took after Polly, I just never knew how much… This is bloody ridiculous.”
“Right, you… Right, stop laughin’, woman, you’re bloody ridiculous, stand still… Now your lipstick’s all over the– an’ what was that for?”
“I love you, Alfie Solomons.”
“Right, now, I love ya too, alright, even though you Shelbys are all equally fuckin’ crazy...”
“You knew what you married into.”
“That I bloody did.”
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samantha-rae-velcher · 6 months
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Master List
Master list Pt.2
YouTubers
Jschlatt
King pt.1 - smut
King pt.2 - smut/ fluff
Trust is for the weak - smut/angst
Trust is for the Weak Pt.2 - smut
Class final - smut
Class final Pt.2 - smut
Class final Pt.3 - smut
Dreams - smut
Frozen Treat - smut
Argument - smut
Aphrodite - smut
The Hunt - smut
Pretty Boy - smut
Crush - smut
What we once had - smut
Pipsqueak - smut
Silence - smut
Look at me - smut
Fireworks - fluff
Cuffed - fluff
Prized Possession - fluff
Moodboard - selfies your Bf Schlatt sends you
Moodboard - more selfies your Bf Schlatt sends you
Moodboard - pics you've taken of your bf Schlatt
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - fluff
Imagine - fluff
Swaggersouls
So pretty - smut
Lights out - smut
The Key - smut
Psychedelic Love - smut
"Happy birthday, sweetheart" - smut
Podcast - fluff
Imagine - smut
Your Narrator
Sick Day - fluff
Wholesome Viking Warrior Pt.1 - smut
Wholesome Viking Warrior Pt.2 - smut
Mully
"Good boy" - smut
Three Way - smut
Lightning - smut
Just a downtown stroll - smut
Break it up - Smut
Pretty little thing - smut
"She's mine" - smut
Sweet submission - smut
Lust - smut
Double the man power (Mully and Narrator) - smut
Cold chill and steam - smut
Point Proven - smut
VR - fluff
Bridge the gap - fluff
"I love my girl" - fluff
Joshdub
Threebee (Josh and Juicy) - smut
Daddy's princess - smut
Tom Hardy
The League (Bane) - fluff
The League Pt.2 (Bane) - fluff/violence
The League Pt.3 (Bane) - smut/fluff
The League Pt.4 (Bane) - fluff
Fearless (Alfie Solomons) - smut
Red (Alfie Solomons) - angst
The club (Reggie Kray) - smut
Star Wars
Past comes to haunt Future to save (Din Djarin) - fluff
Tune up Pt.1 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Tune up Pt.2 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Little one Pt.1 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Little one Pt.2 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Little one Pt.3 (Paz Vizsla) - fluff
TWD
Two hearted love (Aaron) - fluff
Trust needs to be earned (Aaron) - fluff
"Give me your hand" (Aaron) - fluff/ Violence
One on One (Eugene Porter) - fluff/ Violence
Stranger Things
Fight or flee Pt.1 (Eddie Munson) - fluff
Fight or flee Pt.2 (Eddie Munson) - smut
Fight or flee Pt.3 (Eddie Munson) - fluff
"Don't tell me you're getting mushy"- fluff
Shameless
"Tell your boyfriend I'll kill him" (Mickey Milkovich) - smut
The more you know (Mickey Milkovich) - smut
My wife (Mickey Milkovich) - angst/fluff
Keep off (Mickey and Ian) - fluff/Violence
What I own (Mickey and Ian) - fluff/ Violence
Boyfriend like Girlfriend (Mickey Milkovich) - fluff
The Last Of Us
"I love you, Y/n only you" (Joel Miller) - fluff
The Witcher
Silver and White (Geralt of Rivia) - fluff
DC
Pretty (Joker) - Violence
I promise (Slade Wilson) - angst
General's gaze (General Zod) - smut
NCIS
"Fuck you, Dinozzo" (Tony Dinozzo) - fluff
Boardwalk Empire
Gangsters Paradise Pt.1 (Al Capone) - fluff
Gangsters Paradise Pt.2 (Al Capone) - fluff
Gangsters Paradise Pt.3 (Al Capone) - fluff/Violence
Gangsters Paradise Pt.4 (Al Capone) - fluff/Violence
Gangsters Paradise Pt.5 (Al Capone) - fluff
Mafia Pt.1 (Charlie Luciano) - smut
Vecchio Amico (Charlie Luciano) - fluff
Slashers
"The only monster I see is you" (Thomas Hewitt) - smut
All my stories wouldn't fit on this page, so I had to make a Pt.2
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#dirty minds worldwide
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daemonsdarksister · 9 months
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Thomas bloody Shelby - peaky blinders
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gyroanti · 6 months
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"You speak Russian?" "I do, yeah, I do. 'Cause of me mom."
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mushroomseb · 9 months
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PEAKY BLINDERS (2013-2022) | 3.06
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Note
Hello madam.
7.  “Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard!”
With our feral Alfie of course.
🥰🥰
Can do, love!
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Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
To have him rucked deep inside you, while the morning is still lazy, quiet, and still, is the greatest of pleasures. Only the sound of rain softly pattering against the windowpanes is audible above the soft moans, Alfie's occasional deep, lustful rumble adding bass tones, his mouth gliding up your neck in slow exploration.
You cry out, and his kisses suck the breath from you, the tempo slow and rolling, no urgency, nothing fervid. It's like this with him more often than one would expect, the want and need for each other an unhurried chartering into the languidly erotic.
His big body fucks you deep into the mattress, the repeated grinding against your clit making sparks skitter, your hands clasping at the wide planes of his mountainous back, tits heaving beneath the crush of his thick chest. Taking your wrists, he pins your arms, sinking into you deeper, teeth grazing a spot on your neck that evokes the most blissful of glimmers.
It's rolling through you, gaining momentum as the rush hits hard, knocking you sideways, your flutters milking his cock until it jerks and floods you with cum, leaving you as mindless as you are breathless.
"Fucking hell," you pant, finally opening your eyes to see him smirking above you, soft kisses peppering your cheeks as his hands glide down your arms, releasing where he's had them pinned above your head. “Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard!”
He rumbles a chuckle, teeth nipping your jaw. "You always say that, until the next time, innit?"
You suppose he makes a valid point.
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dandelionfool · 3 months
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two best friends of perfectly sound mind
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oscarwildebutwilder · 3 months
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If you pull that trigger, right, you pull that trigger for a fucking honourable reason. Like an honourable man. Not like some fucking civilian that does not understand the wicked way of our world, mate. PEAKY BLINDERS | season 3 episode 6
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