#tom hardy x oc

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Not One of Many - An Alfie Solomons/Beth Drake (OC) Story.

Because I’m so bloody excited to share this, here, have the prologue! Depending on how much I get written over the next few days, I could possibly be ready to begin posting next week, so watch this space! Story is set in AU for Alfie, modern day as well, so if you’re more of a period purist, you may want to give it a miss. 

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 1,830

Warnings - 18+ for later chapters. Minors DNI!

Prologue

“I invited you here as a courtesy, rather than emailing or choosing to call. You know that I usually enjoy including your work within the publication, such should go without saying, but I’m afraid this is sub-par compared to previous sterling standards, Beth. It lacks that witty vibrance which I normally see in your articles. The entire piece was mawkish, yet your descriptions were the furthest thing from visceral. You are not convincing me that you have any kind of eager or earnest interest in the subject, therefore you shall fail to rouse such in the reader.  

“It was all fluff, but I didn’t feel any kind of conviction behind your stance on the matter. I felt like you were attempting to convince yourself of your own choices relating to the subject matter, fool yourself, even. It was almost as if you were overcompensating because of regret. It came off as cloy. I’m sorry, but I am not going to include it in this issue.”

Sitting in a plush, beige chair in front of the desk of Madeline Arlington-Smith, editor-in-chief of the bi-monthly London Life and Style Magazine, Beth experienced the unpleasant sensation of her stomach turning over. Suddenly, she felt as if she were back in school, having her English homework critiqued by the equally formidable Mrs Davies, with her booming tones and a bright red pen for aggressively scribbled corrections. Madeline lacked the red pen, though.  

“I see. Could you at least give me some time so I might make a few alterations?” she asked tentatively, her confidence steamrollered by Madeline’s biting tone.

“No. The piece is beyond saving and we go to print in two days’ time. If you manage to produce something better, a piece worth reading within the next six weeks, though, send it my way. If, however, it is as dreadful as what you emailed to me yesterday morning, do not expect for me to leave the door open for your continued relationship with the magazine. I am not in the habit of publishing such saccharine bullshit.  

“You should go away now, lick your wounds, pull your head out of whichever cloud it has become lost within in even thinking that piece would be considered, and come back brighter to me. You are an incredibly talented journalist. Show that. Good evening, Beth.”

Nodding, she rose from her seat, Madeline’s words truly making her feel as if she’d just been mauled by a large, antagonised cobra. She now saw exactly why the famed and feared editor earned the nickname of the viper within the publishing world. Saccharine bullshit. Ouch.  

“I need a bloody drink.” she muttered, striding towards the elevator, her smart pencil dress and blazer now feeling somewhat stifling rather than comfortably hugging. Of course, dealing with her articles being rejected was something that Beth was long used to, working as a journalist, and a freelance one at that. It was, however, the first time she had faced the wrath of Madeline, an editor she usually had a very good rapport with. Not today, though.  

As the elevator descended, so further did her mood, replaying all of the remarks Madeline had made over her piece detailing the plight of women who chose to remain childless in the face of society’s demands and pressures that they put their wombs to the use nature intended. Beth took that personally, for at twenty-nine, she still preferred tending lovingly to her career rather than the idea of settling down to raise a family.  

“How could I be mawkish, yet unconvincing? Trying to convince myself, too?” Watching the lit-up circles of each floor tick down one by one on the panel, she chewed her cheek in frustration, cursing that she’d used her last piece of gum prior to her meeting. Clicking her heel repeatedly off the tiled elevator floor, she was a picture of wound-up frustration, those same Louboutin heels striking the polished marble of the foyer floor with aggressive little clacks as she strode upon it after the doors had opened with a silky glide, Beth exiting the building, glad of the fresh air hitting her face. Well, as fresh as it could be for London.

A drink. Such would of course be facilitated by a bar, but not spending an enormous amount of time in Chelsea, an area much too far out of her price range to frequent, it took her a few moments to navigate her way. Looking up the street through the rush hour traffic, she saw a large venue on the corner, deciding that Midland Bar would be her chosen venue to commence her tipping wine down her throat until her senses were suitably dulled.  

Upon arriving inside, though, she saw that perhaps Midland Bar was as much out of her price range as the rest of the area in which it was situated, Beth feeling most definitely like a fish out of water. True, her clothes might have been designer, taking into consideration the aforementioned Louboutin's on her feet and the Tom Ford dress she wore, but they were from two seasons’ past (also picked up from designer discount site HEWI) and put beneath a blazer from Topshop, teamed with an Osprey bag from TK Maxx. She almost always purchased designer pieces on a budget.  

“Cabernet Sauvignon, please,” she requested at the bar, the smiling girl with the immaculate ringlets nodding.

“Small or large, madam?”

“Bottle.” After having both her journalism insulted and her personal beliefs called into question, more than a mere singular glass was in order. She would regret such a decision when the price was displayed across the register, that particular bottle costing as much as she would usually spend on a nice, three course dinner. Tonight, wine would be her sustenance, it seemed. She had a full fridge at home, though, should she be feeling peckish later on.  

Looking around, she surveyed her surroundings while sipping her wine, which after the first mouthful she deduced was definitely worth the hefty price tag. Wandering over to the end of the bar, she looked at a framed picture of the establishment in days gone by, the photograph depicting how it had stood back in the 1940’s, when it had been the old Midland Bank. Her curiosity sated, she moved back to her place and continued to people watch.

The clientele were mostly business types, all Armani suits and Tag Heur watches, the smell of luxurious cologne and perfume filtering through the air as the patrons chatted about overseas business trips and brokering deals for eye watering sums of money, Beth drinking in the atmosphere as she sipped her wine and checked her phone.  

After wading through the usual slew of twenty percent off your next order emails and Instagram notifications, she placed it back and continued with her people watching, her eye caught by three women sitting at a table within the slightly elevated section, surrounded by luxury shopping bags.  

They were the very embodiment of the quintessential, glamorous London gal pals, all chatting and sipping what looked to be champagne (it was doubtful that Midland Bar stocked prosecco) their hands adorned with beautiful jewellery. The striking brunette wore the coveted Cartier panther ring, which Beth knew from checking online carried a price tag of thirty-six thousand pounds. It was a little gaudy for her tastes, but while browsing the site on a wistful ‘if I had the money, this is what I would purchase’ exercise, she had noticed the cost.

There they were, three wealthy women without a care in the world as they drank what was revealed to be Dom Perignon, when the redhead lifted the bottle from the ice bucket and topped up their glasses, and there she was, wondering how she would make next month’s rent after Madeline’s cruel evisceration of her most recent submission. Yes, the £67.95 bottle of wine was definitely not the most appropriately of timed purchases.

She would relish in every sip of her last extravagant expenditure until financial conditions improved, turning back to the bar and pouring out a second glass.  

“Pardon me, my darlin’,” she then heard from behind her, a hand placed gently to the small of her back as a man stepped past her, moving down the bar until he stopped in front of the girl who had served her. “Kerry, my little flower. How are ya?” he spoke warmly, outstretching his hand and wriggling his fingers in gesture for hers. She obliged, the handsome man in the deep blue, three-piece suit taking it and bestowing a kiss.  

“I’m good thanks, Alfie. How are you?” she smiled in reply, continuing to supervise the steady stream of Guinness into a pint glass.

“That’s what I like to hear! As for me, never better, treacle. Never better. The usual at my table when you’ve got a moment, love.” With a wink that would make the most glacial of women melt, he turned on his heel and strode across the bar, arriving at the table with the three women Beth had previously been quietly envying. The tall brunette rose from her seat to greet him, his hands sliding around her waist as he kissed her deeply, yet fleetingly, leaning down to the redhead, and greeting her much the same... and then the blonde as well.  

“Blimey, he’s either very friendly or very popular,” Beth muttered, just loud enough for her thoughts to be overheard.  

“I take it you’ve never been here before then, no?” Kerry the barmaid asked behind her as she filled an ice bucket, Beth a tad bashful to have been heard.  

“I haven’t, no. What’s the story there?” she asked, leaning back over her shoulder as she watched him sit down with the women.

Kerry continued with her scooping of ice, as entertained as ever by the reaction of someone who hadn’t a clue over the scene they’d just witnessed. “That’s Alfie Solomons, he owns this place as well as many others, and those women with him are his girlfriends.”  

“Girlfriends?” Beth inquired, putting extra emphasis on the pluralisation.

“Yep, he dates multiple women at once. Amira, the brunette, she’s his long stay, been with him for about three years. Talia, the redhead, around a year and Mimi, the blonde, about five months, or thereabouts. It’s hard to keep track.”

Beth raised her eyebrows, trailing the rim of her wine glass with her fingernail. “Nice work if you can get it.”  

Kerry laughed, dunking the bottle of Dom in amongst the ice before picking up a tumbler, adding a few cubes and siphoning in soda water. “Oh yeah. He's the talk of Chelsea, that man.” She filled the tray with three fresh flutes, placing the soda water and bucket atop it before excusing herself, heading over to the table in question.  

“The talk of Chelsea.” Beth mused, sipping her wine. Madeline might have disagreed at that very moment in time, but she knew a good article when one presented itself.  

A/N - Now, here’s the really, really important part. Did you enjoy it? If so, please don’t just redundantly click that heart. Reblog it. Also, I love to engage with my readers, so a little comment would not go amiss either! Talk to me, I’m ever so friendly :) Doesn’t have to be long, just reach out. I’m all about building community here and there is nothing more lovely than readers and writers supporting one another!

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fic #tom hardy smut #tom hardy x ofc #tom hardy x oc #alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons au #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders smut

[kaviasposts]

Dropping this after disappearing for months

#the arcana #oc #mc #lucio morgasson #lucio x oc #sinclaire #anita cifarelli #apollo cifarelli #alcina cifarelli #red flags #tom hardy #arcana animatic #animatic

[justrainandcoffee]

Deal (Tommy Shelby vs. oc!Solomons) + (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 1

“You're a lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf.”

Masterlist

Summary: Why is Thomas Shelby in front of Mrs. Solomons? Just business. Tommy just needs information. But first he needs to deal with Rose Solomons who, unlike her husband, has no sympathy for the man sitting in her office. And yet, they know how to make a deal. "A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby."

Warnings: Mentions of dead, killing. Allusions to sex. Mentions of physical violence. Misogyny.

Words: 4.5k. || Special thanks to @look-at-the-soul who helped me today 🙃♥️.

1924.

Yesterday

"The bastard is a fookin' ghost!" yelled Arthur.

The Garrison was empty except for those members of the Peaky Blinders, allowed to be there. There was a person that they couldn't find. An Irishman called Nicholas Baker, possible member of the IRA. Last time they saw him, it was he when he shot a blinder and left him to die in the streets. He escaped before Arthur or anyone else could catch him.

Since then, the brothers and the rest of the gang were looking for him no succeed. Not just because he killed a man they know, but also because they were sure he was a spy.

"Maybe he's dead," suggested Isaiah.

"No. He's alive and living in London." This time, Tommy Shelby's voice could be heard all over the place. "And Elias is not the only person he killed. And his real name is Sean Patrick O'Finn."

Tommy dropped a newspaper in front of his brother and Arthur read it out loud.

"His own sister! He fookin' killed his sister!"

"And tried to killed his wife as well, according to the neighbours. She escaped." Tommy sat in his usual place as he lit up a cigarette and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He looked at Arthur and the rest of his men.

"We have nothing, then! He can be in middle of fookin' Russia by now." Arthur was frustrated as usual.

"I don't think so. I think he's still there in London, and as we know, police is useless. London is a big city and they don't care. People are killed every day" Tommy lit another cigarette "but I'm going to find him. And I'm going to put a bullet in his head, too."

"You don't know where to start, Tommy!" Arthur furrowed brow and look at his brother.

"Yes, I do know where to start. I need to talk to his wife."

"But do you know where this woman is, Tom?"

"Yes."

.

The Solomons residence in London was quiet. Rose was working and Alfie just arrived there over an hour ago. He was about to rest his back in bed when their maid announced that he had a call.

"It's Mr. Shelby," the woman said. She saw him do a grimace, but he said nothing to her.

"Thanks, Doris."

Alfie entered his office and closed the door behind before picking up the phone. Every time Tommy called it meant problems, usually for him. But this time what Tommy said, took him by surprise.

"Are ya mad?"

"I just need her this time, Alfie."

"She will kill ya, mate."

"No, she won't. Your wife isn't a killer."

"Maybe. But the women around her are. Honestly, Tom, they're a pack of fuckin' bloody wolves claiming for men flesh. You're a little lamb entering the territory of a hungry wolf. Rosie is the leader of that pack, if she gives the order next time I'll see ya it'll be in your own fuckin' funeral... If I find your body." On the other side of the line, Tommy opened a drawer and picked up some papers and started to take some notes. Sometimes Alfie exaggerated, especially if he was talking about his wife. As far as Tommy knew, Rose Solomons just worked helping women in need and in the streets fighting for equal rights. The few times he saw her in Alfie's place she didn't seem to be a menace to anyone.

"They're just women, eh?"

"My Rosie isn't just a woman, Tommy. She's me wife." Alfie sighed "Rosie will decorate the fuckin' Christmas tree they put on her workplace with your balls."

"I'll take a risk, then. Just wanted to inform you."

"Fine. But I'm not going to tell her yet. I prefer she knows it on her own… good luck then, Tom."

1924.

Today. London.

It's only 7am and the Solomons were making love for the second time in the morning. Rose didn't know what her husband was thinking, or feeling, that he had waking up so passionated but she wasn't complaining either.

"Alfie… I can't… god…" her back arched and her toes curled once last time until she fell on the mattress, completely satisfied. She could feel Alfie finish as well.

The man stayed on top of her few minutes more, catching his breath, before rolling on his back, laying next to her. Alfie opened his arms and invited her to be against his chest.

"Are you fine?" she asked kissing his neck.

"Feelin' like a God now, luv. Why do ya ask? You're talking like we never fuck like this before."

"I ask, because I know that sometimes you use sex to channel your frustrations and I just want to know you're fine."

"I'm perfect, Rosie. Gimme some time and we can repeat it."

She laughed. "No way you still have energy, Al. I can't, I've to work. Tonight, maybe."

In response, Alfie kissed her. That same night, probably she wants to kill him. He had talked to Tommy the day before and she didn't know. Alfie was just trying his best to calm her before the storm. Although spending time with her, it was always beautiful. The kiss continued until she pulled apart slowly. He caressed her cheek. Rose knew that Alfie definitely was hiding something from her, but she didn't know what. After one last brief kiss, she sat down in bed and then walked to the bathroom to take a shower.

Alfie stayed in bed, thinking about his friend going to his wife's place. In all those years, over a decade since it was founded, he visited her school just twice. Once when it was inaugurated, when they met each other again, and the other one after the war. They had an implicit deal: "You don't interfere with my business and I don't interfere with yours" even if they asked each other for some advice, suggestions or help. He was a bit worried about her, even when he knew that Tommy wasn't going to hurt her.

When Rose went out the bathroom, she found him sitting in bed, stretching his back, ready to have breakfast. She approached him and played gently with his hair.

"Thought you're going to join the shower."

Alfie put his hands on her hips and pushed her down on his knees. She was wrapped with a towel and when Alfie kissed her shoulder, he smelled the fresh soap on her skin.

"Ya didn't invited me."

"Since when you need invitation?" she chuckled and put her arms around him. Her hands were stroking the back of his neck. Rose was staring at him, "are you sure you're fine?"

"I am, Rosie."

"Okay," she didn't believe him, but she wasn't going to pressure him either. Instead, she kissed him and he reciprocate immediately. Her towel fell on the floor and she felt him ready to be with her once more.

Never two without three.

.

Arrow house

By the dawn of the next day, every Shelby knew where the leader was going. If they had any opinion about it, they didn't share it. A car was parked outside Arrow House with three men in it.

"I'm going now," announced Tommy. His black coat was over a chair and he took it. "Johnny Dogs and the Smiths are coming with me."

Arthur chuckled. "Johnny Dogs? And the Smith brothers? Ain't too much, Tom? Four men to visit just a bunch of pussies and tits? They're just chicks."

"Not according to Alfie."

"According to fookin' Alfie! The fookin' Alfie! Ya believe him?"

"Yes. Alfie will never allow me to be near his wife, if he didn't know now that she's safe. I know that. And if she's safe that means she's surrounded by an army."

"Are ya planning to kill them?"

"I don't kill women, Arthur. And I don't want problems with Alfie. It's just in case."

"So take me with ya!"

"Arthur, no offense but you don't know how to deal with a Solomons. Stay here and take care of the business, eh? I'll be back at night, probably or tomorrow."

"Tom! Tommy!" the eldest brother yelled but the other man already reached the door.

"Goodbye, Arthur. Tell Pol, that I left her a letter under the flowerpot."

.

Pebblebrock was Rose Solomons' former manor and prison hell at the same time. Now it was a beautiful school for girls and at the same time it served as a roof for some women who had run from their abusive homes.

As the owner, she was the one in charge even when she had several women in which she trusted working with her side by side. But the final decision on everything was always hers.

Alfie, and Tommy too, were right. The place and Rose, were surrounded by women specifically trained to kill. It wasn't uncommon for men to try to reach those who they already hurt. The rules were crystal clear MEN ARE NOT ALLOWED IN PEBBLEBROCK. The ones who didn't understand the warning were now resting eternally in a cemetery.

Men were only allowed if they were doctors or priests. The institution had nurses and two nuns who volunteered to help there. But sometimes a doctor was required, same with priests. Any other men should call for an appointment, only under that circumstances their entrance were allowed.

.

"Look at this fucking place."

From the road, Tommy, Johnny Dogs and the Smith brothers were watching the entire property. The gardens extended beyond their sight.

"Full of pussies, it's my fucking paradise. An all-you-can-eat-fucking restaurant" commented Gregory Smith. Except Tommy, the rest of them laughed.

.

Rose heard the crows. That was never a good signal.

"Now who?" she thought for herself. A lot of names crossed her mind, but none of them was the right answer.

Five minutes later a knock on her office's door brought the answer.

"Who?" she asked not believing her ears.

"Mr. Thomas Shelby, Mrs. Solomons" repeated the woman in front of her. "He says he needs you."

"The Thomas Shelby?"

But unaware of who he was the other woman didn't respond.

"Yeah, well. Tell him I'm coming."

"There are three other men with him, Mrs. Solomons."

Of course.

The day was beautiful. Cloudless sky and almost no wind. It'd be perfect if not for Tommy Shelby in her property.

"Didn't you read the sign?" she said greeting them "men are not allowed here."

"Good morning, Mrs. Solomons," said Tommy with deep voice.

"It is, Tommy. It is."

It always was intrigued him that a man like Alfie could be so devoted to a woman who barely reached his shoulders. His Rosie. Alfie Solomons could start a war against the king and the Pope if something happened to that woman.

Gregory Smith had another idea.

"We don't follow rules, sweetheart. We're the peaky fucking blinders."

"The Peaky who?" Rose looked at the man "Who the fuck are you?"

"The audacity of this bitch. It's a Solomons, eh?"

"Gregory…" warned Tommy.

"Yeah. I'm a Solomons. Proud of it. But I'm quite dumb, Gregory. So I need your help, I only know how to count to two. Like, one, two… what's next?"

"Three."

BANG.

A woman stading behind Rose was holding a gun.

The bullet impacted his head. The man was already dead when his body collapsed on the ground. Rose just looked her pocket watch and then clicked her tongue.

"Men are not allowed here," she repeated. "You understand the warnings now or you what to be the next?"

Tommy looked at the dead body.  The blonde woman behind Rose was staring at him and Tommy knew that she wasn't joking. One more step and it couldn't be any difference between a Gruyère cheese and him.

Tommy sent Johnny Dogs and the remaining man again to the car. He also gave his gun to his friend.

"Ya sure, Tom?"

"Just go, Johnny."

When Tommy turned around again, he saw the woman extending her arm, she moved her hand "gimme the fucking cap."

Again, Tommy did what she said. She gestured him to follow her.

The interior of her office was elegantly decorated. An expensive rug on the floor matched the wallpaper and the mahogany desk. Lots of books were perfectly ordered on the bookshelves. Rose Solomons invited him to take seat on one of her velvety armchairs. Tommy followed her with his eyes. Now his cap was over the head of a marble bust representing Aphrodite, just behind her, looking at him. The woman sat behind her desk and put her hands under her chin.

"We have a beautiful garden here. A greenhouse full of exotic flowers and plants. Was your man married? I'd like to send the widow some flowers."

"He wasn't."

"Better, then."

Her brown eyes never leave his blue ones and same as Alfie, he felt she was trying to anticipate his movements. But Tommy didn't express any emotion.

"So? What the hell is doing Thomas Michael Shelby here? My husband isn't here."

"Not looking for Alfie."

"That's fucking new considering the mutual obsession you have with each other."

Tommy curved his lips, barely smiling. "I'm here purely for business, Mrs. Solomons."

"I'm not the kind of person you do business with."

"You are."

Both of them remained in silence for several seconds. Probably she was unaware of it, but Tommy noticed some mannerisms in her that he had witnessed in Alfie before. She was thinking while playing with her fingers. Impossible to say who copied who.

"What kind of business? Illegality has no place here," she finally said.

"I need to know where a certain man is."

Before she could say something Tommy saw the door opening and a beautiful woman in her mid-forties, entered Mrs. Solomons' office. She greeted him with a movement of her head and then started to talk to Rose in French but she stopped her almost immediately.

"This isn't going to work now, Geraldine. The man knows french," she said pointing to him "same as Alfie he fought in France during years. Tell Edith to come. She speaks Hebrew."

Geraldine nodded before leaving again.

"You do that often? Speaking other language in front of strangers?" Tommy settled in the armchair.

"Don't you do the same? I'm sure that speaking Romani is very useful if you want to express something to a friend or relative but you don't want the other to know what are you saying. Don't judge me, Mr. Shelby."

Edith, Tommy asummed it was her, was barely in her 20s, probably she was still a teen. Young and with a cheerful face, the girl approached Mrs. Solomons and both of them started to talk in Hebrew, a language he couldn't understand. For a moment, Rose looked at him sideways.

"Thanks, Edith" she said and the girl left without looking at Tommy. "One of your men tried to sneak in my school. Or they're fucking dumbs or they're really ready to visit God."

"Fucking hell…" Tommy rolled his eyes before breathing deeply. He was sure it wasn't Johnny Dogs but the other Smith. "Listen, Mrs. Solomons, I didn't give the order. I didn't know."

"I know, he acted by his own. Good news is he's alive. Bad news is my girls are taking care of him. It depends on you what I'm going to do with him. Alfie knew you were coming, didn't he?"

"I called him yesterday."

Rose sighed "Yes, of course he knew. Of course he fucking knew," his actions that morning now it made sense to her. Not because it wasn't unsual for them to have sex in the morning, but because there was something in his eyes that his mouth wasn't saying. And after all those years together, Rose knew him very well. "Anyway… what do you want do with your man, Mr. Shelby?"

"Can I smoke?"

"If you go next to the window and put your hand with the cigarette out, I don't have any problem. But I don't want smoke here."

She saw how he stood up and walked towards the window. That one in particular faced one of the gardens where the rosebushes were. In spring and summer, the sweet smell of roses invaded her office and it was something that she really liked.

When that morning Arthur asked him why he took three men with him just to visiting a school and women's residence, Tommy  was exploring his chances. Better Gregory Smith than him. He trusted Johnny Dogs, he was a loyal, obedient man. But the Smiths…

"Kill him if you want," Tommy finally said "if my man can't follow my orders, then he should face the consequences. This is your place after all, Mrs. Solomons."

"Edith told me he was screaming that he wanted to avenge his brother."

"Yes. The one you kill it was his brother." Tommy glanced at her. A ghost of a smile was on his face.

"I never killed anyone, Mr. Shelby."

"You don't need to hold a gun and shoot to be a murderer. Most of the murderers just give the order behind their desks."

"Well, he'd be alive if he hadn't been an asshole. It's all about the rules, Mr. Shelby. The sign is there for a reason and if you ask me, you don't seem very concerned about your man's death."

"Rules, eh? Something tells me you're not very fond to follow them, either, Mrs. Solomons. How was the prison?" Tommy blew another puff of smoke out the window, but kept looking at her.

"Pretty cold. Full of cooties and rats. I named one in your honour, that's a tradition that we the Solomons have. Name a goat, name a rat… How's Arfah, by the way? Alfie misses him."

"Thanks for the honour, Mrs. Solomons. Arthur wanted to come. I told him he doesn't know how to deal with a Solomons."

"Oh," she grinned. "And you do?"

"I'm pretty confident about it. It worked in the past."

"I have no doubts about it. But I'm not my husband, Mr. Shelby. I don't fall for a pair of blue eyes and a chiseled face and most of all, I don't trust men."

Tommy threw the remaining of his cigarette in a basket that was there and walked again to the seat in front of her. He crossed his legs and rested his hands over his stomach.

"Do you want to fuck me, Mrs. Solomons?"

"Yes. Just bring me a bottle of cyanide to accompany the moment. And then I want to hug a black mamba. Your place or mine?"

Tommy chuckled. "Wherever you prefer, sweetheart."

Far away from being intimidated by the confidence he was exuding, Rose just scratched her chin.

"Alfie accepted? I mean, if this is the way you deal with a Solomons..."

"Never asked."

"Oh, you should have. The answer maybe could suprise you. But, let me tell you something, Tommy. Can I call you Tommy?" he nodded. Rose left her armchair and approached the man. He followed her with his eyes. Her face was now in front of his, their noses were touching. Both pair of eyes were staring at each other. Tommy felt her breath on his skin "I know who you are, Tommy. Reputation precedes you. I know how you do business with women. But here's the thing: I'm not them. And yes, I'm a Solomons, yes Alfie and I we have lot of similarities. But I'm not Alfie. I'm not interesting in you as a man and if your cock is the only thing you have to offer me, you're wasting your time here… sweetheart." Rose inhaled deeply "God! I never killed anyone, but I swear the devil keep tempting me. How about having your head as a trophy hunting hanging on this office? But…" Rose moved her head back again "as I said, I'm not a murderer."

"Alfie is a lucky man, Mrs. Solomons," Tommy said once she returned to her seat behind the desk.

"Is he?" She tilted her head.

"Believe me." Tommy straighted on his armchair "and I'm sure If something happens to him, I'm sure you're going to heard the devil that keeps telling you to kill someone."

"Be sure of that. If anything happens to my Alfie, the only one who can stop me is Alfie himself. I hope nothing happens to him, EVER. You know about it, don't you?. Your late wife, we knew what happened. I can't imagine the pain."

"No, you can't imagine. But I'm getting over it." Tommy cleared his throat "Mrs. Solomons, I need information."

"In exchange of…"

"Mutual respect."

Rose snorted. "Yes, sure. Alfie could be delighted when I tell him. Information means business, Mr. Shelby. And whiskey is for business, innit?"

She opened a cabinet in her desk and put a bottle of whiskey with the Solomons logo on it. Behind her, were two glasses that she grabbed. A rose was engraved on them.

"I didn't know you drink," he said.

"Only in very few occasions. I prefer just tea for the rest of the day. So? You tell me."

Tommy drank a sip of whiskey before talking again. In his mind the image of Elias dead on the streets of Small Heath appeared again. Contrary to Gregory Smith, Elias was a good man. Her widow was pregnant and a payroll wasn't enough for the woman to compensate her for her husband's death. Yet, it was the only thing that Tommy could do.

"I'm looking for Mrs. Baker."

"There are several, Tommy. It's a very common name. Any details?

"It's an Irishwoman. I don't know her appearance but her husband killed her sister-in-law. It means his own sister."

"Sonia," mumbled her, "but the last name isn't Baker. It's O'Finn. Although she said that prefers her own surname. I'm going to keep that information to me until you tell me what the hell is going on."

From the murdered committed in Birmingham to the one in London's underground. Tommy told her about his suspicions that O'Finn was a member of the IRA and how he, Tommy, was now a target of them. Again.

"If that's true," she replied "then no matter what, your head already had a price and it's not going to be me the one hanging it on my office, but them. Nowadays it's very easy to send a message to the other side of the map. A telegram or a phone call… I don't understand why do you want to talk to this woman if he already communicated with his people."

"Because I don't think he did that. He's hiding. He's a fucking rat."

"Ok. Well, there's a lot of problems first. Mrs. O'Finn, she's not in conditions to talk. Even if she can, you're not allowed to be near her and this is not negotiable. These women are under my wing. Not you, not fucking Churchill can be near them. I don't give a fuck if you bring an order from the fucking president of I-don't-know-where. Understood? I have women specialized in talk to women with the kind of trauma that Sonia has, so, think about twice before suggesting another way to do this."

"The less people know about it, the better, Rose."

She pointed to the door, silently. Tommy sighed. "Fine. But I prefer that you can be present. And me too. Or at least I want to hear everything by myself."

"Agree. We have a place we can use. I need to tell you, or better say, reminder you that Sonia is highly traumatized. Yes, she's alive but the price she paid…" Rose stood up again but this time she walked to one of her bookshelves and picked up a carpet, although to do it she had to climb a ladder. "Tommy, I don't have this rule of "men aren't allowed" just because I'm fucking misandristic bitch, I'm not. I believe in equal rights. I fight for equality. I have that sign because people here, women, kids… are afraid of your kind. I have a register for every single woman that lived here since 1911 when I inaugurated this place. Open the folder."

Tommy obeyed and his first reaction was exactly what Rose hoped to get "Shit…"

The first page was the document of a woman who lived there in 1914 before volunteering as nurse in France, Rose never saw her again. Her name was Rita Brown, 20 years old. She escaped from her house because her father was an abuser. He ended up cutting her face marking a cross on her.

"I don't allow men, because we don't know what kind of bastard will cross that gate. Your man, that Gregory, he's not the first. Dozens before him, I'm genuinely surprised that if you talked to Alfie yesterday he didn't mention my women."

"He did."

"So you knew."

Tommy nodded and Rose studying his face laughed . Suddenly she understood. "You bring this bastard on purpose! You fucking did! You wanted him dead. Fucking hell, Tommy. I heard things a lot of things about you and I'm still impressed. The brother, too? You wanted me to rid off the other guy, too?"

"Why not?"

"Fine. I don't give a shit. One less." She returned to her seat and rang a bell. The same young girl called Edith appeared. Both of them talked in Hebrew again and Edith went out again once they finished. "We have an agreement, it seems. Now my payment."

Tommy opened his coat and placed two payrolls on her desk.

"I appreciate the effort," she said no looking at the money. "But I'm not interested it in cash, although if you don't want it. I can use it to buy something for the school like a new piano for the girls and some violins. A donation."

"I don't want it," he confirmed "then what's your price, Mrs. Solomons?"

"A soul for a soul, Mr. Shelby. I want a man dead."

"Who?"

"Churchill's right hand man."

Next part.

...so? 👀

#alfie solomons #tommy shelby #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #peaky blinders #tom hardy #peaky blinders x oc #alfie x rose #Thomas Shelby #cillian Murphy

[leenieweenie12]

You're Too Sweet For Me

Ok this is literally the first little fic I've ever written (and completed) so please give me the tiniest amount of grace, I am begging you. I am so afraid to post this but I figure, why the hell not?! Gotta live a little. Also side note, I know this is so cliche to take place in a flower shop but I am ~unoriginal~ and that's what I came up with.

Warnings: none, this is fluff

Words: 1,213

Inspired by none other than the lovely Hozier and his new song Too Sweet

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

The bell over the door chimed, letting her know that a customer had just arrived. 

“Be with you in a minute!” she called from the side room where she was arranging a colorful spring bouquet. 

“S’alright, it’s just ol Alfie,” a familiar gruff voice hollered back. 

She smiled to herself and glanced at the clock above the doorway. Five o’clock, right on time. She wiped her hands on her already dirty apron and walked out to the main shop. Her dear friend Alfie Solomons was standing with his back toward her, looking at the rows of blooms spread around the room. He had his signature long black coat and hat on, his small cane clutched in one hand. 

“Is it Wednesday already, then?” she asked, placing a hand on Alfie’s shoulder. “Could’ve sworn it was still Tuesday.”

“That’s the thing about the days, love, once one ends, the next one begins,” he put his arm around her waist and gave her a small sideways hug. “Got anything exciting going on back there?” his head tipped slightly to the side room.

She shrugged. “Nothing too thrilling. Come back and give me a hand, would ya?” 

She walked ahead of him into the small area that was dedicated to arranging. In a glass vase on the counter was a sprawling bouquet of peonies, roses, and cosmos. 

“Think Mr. Klein stepped out on the missus again,” she snickered. “This is the third arrangement he’s ordered just this month for her.” 

Alfie reached out and gently touched one of the peonies with a calloused ring adorned finger, a funny sight to see from such a burly man. “Yeah, well,  I can’t blame the man. Mrs. Klein is about as irritating as they come, with that God awful nasally voice of hers constantly droning on about fuck all.” He took half a step back to admire the bouquet in its entirety. “Put some larkspur in there, add a little height.” 

She chuckled and shook her head, “You always have to have a say in my work, don’t you?” Despite her words, she turned and grabbed a few stems of the purple larkspur in the bucket on the counter and carefully added them to the vase. “But you’re always right, which you know annoys the hell out of me.” 

The man smiled and gestured with his hands, “See, there ya go, love. Perfect.” 

She smiled and turned to face Alfie, her back leaning against the counter. She looked at the older man’s face and studied it intensely, as she had countless times before. It wasn’t much of a secret that she had feelings for him. He had been coming into her flower shop for almost two years by then. He started coming every other week to pick up arrangements for his mother. Every other week quickly turned to once weekly, then every other day. Now it was routine for them; every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at exactly five o’clock, Alfie would come to the shop. He had stopped buying bouquets for his mother after her passing roughly a year before. Now he just visited her for pleasure. They had become quite good friends in that time. Alfie would often bring her some dinner if he knew she had to stay  late to fill an order. Other evenings he would take her out either to a local pub or restaurant to enjoy food and drinks. Her feelings grew by the day but she never acted on them. She figured that if Alfie felt the same way he would have made a move by that point, so for the time being she let it go. She tried not to let it bother her too much, the ache in her heart that left a pang of emptiness. Most of the time they were having far too much fun for her to realize it was even there. But every once in a while, in the quiet moments such as the one they were having in her little flower shop, she felt it. 

There was something about that day, that moment, that she felt the overwhelming urge to fill that empty void. She would never know what it was that made her do it, but she grabbed the lapels of Alfie’s coat and pulled herself to him, pressing her lips to his. At first, there was no reaction from the bearish man, but as she didn’t back off, she felt Alfie’s large hand snake behind her neck. He deepened the kiss, pushing her back against the counter. Her arms went around his neck as he moved his own hands to her waist and effortlessly picked her up to sit her on the surface. Their lips crashed together like two teenagers indulging their pubescent hormones for the first time, tongues intertwining at a fervent pace. 

When they finally released each other, Alfie took half a step back. “Fuckin ‘ell,” he said with a smirk. “Not that I didn’t enjoy that, but what the hell are you thinking, love?” 

She looked into his impassioned eyes sheepishly and gave him a small smile. “Don’t be daft, Alfie. You know how terrible I am at hiding my feelings. Don’t tell me you’re surprised by this.” She brought a hand up to his scraggly beard and gave it a pet. 

Alfie’s gaze intensified and his brow furrowed. He looked back and forth between her green eyes. searching for some sort of answer. “Darling, I-” he started before she put her hands on his chest.

“And don’t tell me you don’t feel the same way because a kiss never lies, and the way you just kissed me revealed a whole lot of truth, Alfie Solomons.”

He snickered and put his hands back on her waist. “You got me there, treacle. Not even gonna try to be coy with you. I’m just a bit taken aback is all.”

The next few hours were spent just the two of them in her modest flower shop vacillating between conversation about their feelings for each other and intimate caressing and necking. When they finally realized how late it was by the darkness outside, Alfie turned toward her with a serious glance. 

“I’m not a good man,” he declared in a serious tone. “I’ve done awful things to a lot of people.”

She closed the gap between them and laid her cheek against his broad chest, waiting for his bulky arms to enclose around her. “But you’ve never done anything awful to me, Alfie, and that’s what I care about. Everything you’ve done you’ve done for a reason. I know that.”

He wrapped her small frame up with his own body and sighed, “You’re too sweet for me, love.” He bent his head down and gingerly kissed the top of her head. 

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” she said as she linked her arm through his and stepped toward the door. 

With the chilly night air greeting them, they strolled out to the quiet Camden street, arm in arm, both with minds racing of the future to come for their newfound romance, smiles spread wide across their faces. 

They could feel the electricity of love sparking between them, lighting up the night. This was the start of something beautiful.

#alfie solomons #peaky blinders #alfie solomons fanfic #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfic #alfie x oc #alfie x ofc #alfie solomons x ofc #fanfiction

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(16) - Epilogue

I Dreamed We'd Grow Old Together...

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Robert and Y/n's life over the next five years

word count - 2k

warnings - pregnancy, and an insane amount of fluff

a/n - and so it ends! This fic has been very important to me and has given me such a great outlet. I want to thank you all for your continued love and support for this fic! If it hadnt been for you guys I probably wouldnt have had enough confidence to continue it!

Please like/comment/reblog/follow!!!

a/n pt2 - Also seeing as I have fallen in love with this relationship I will be accepting questions and headcanons on their relationship!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

Questions and Headcanons on Robert x y/n - here

And so we came together. It felt like the culmination of a thousand dreams.

We went out on many dates. Robert would plan these luxurious and expensive expressions of affection: dinner at the fanciest restaurants, cinemas bought out for our private viewing experience. But we alternated who planned the dates, so when it came to my turn I went for the simplest. Walks on the beach, picnics in the park. One day I even found a crafting class for us, and I could’ve cried on the spot when I saw his eyes light up at the handmade windmills. Of course, he saw it as a happy coincidence when in reality I enjoyed feeling like I was healing his childhood self, one step at a time.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. We were out on a hike which I had chosen. He had grumbled about the idea of getting up early, but I could see the stress leave his body at the first gulp of forest air. I carried on ahead as he went to tie his shoe but when I turned back I gasped. Robert was down on one knee, holding a beautiful diamond ring.

“Y/n Cobb, I have loved you since that first moment I laid eyes on you, and I think even before that.” I walked closer to him so I could hold his other outstretched hand. Tears were streaming down my face and my smile was holding back an extremely loud yes. “I know how much you believe in dreams and so on. And last night I had a dream that we grew old together. When I woke up I knew it had to be my reality. Y/n Cobb, will you…”

I threw my arms around him.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” I placed a loud kiss right on his lips.

“You could have at least let me finish!” He teasingly whined.

“Well I could see where you were going!” I argued back but was halted when he kissed me once more. We pulled away long enough so Robert could slide the ring onto my finger.

Safe to say, we did not finish the hike that day as we quickly went home to celebrate.

I had moved in with Robert before so we visited Dad and the kids for lunch the day after to give them the news. Dad had always been weary around Robert, not knowing if he would recognise him. But it was fine as, in my Dad’s words, ‘when Robert is around Y/n, it’s like the world doesn’t exist.’. Dad still couldn’t stop himself pulling Robert aside whilst Philippa was asking me a million questions about the wedding and if she could be a bridesmaid. All he did was roughly grab his hand and pulled him close and merely whispered

“She’s my precious girl. And I have a gun.”

Safe to say Robert was healthily shocked.

We got married weeks later as neither of us could wait. I told Robert I didn’t care about a big expensive wedding, but he couldn’t seem to accept that.

I got my wish for a small wedding in the garden of my childhood home, with just my closest friends. But everything else about it was still ridiculously posh. Right down to the flower arch we were married under.

James and Philippa were my brides’girl’ and brides’boy’. My father walked me down the makeshift aisle. Arthur and Eames were there as well as Yusuf and Ariadne. They were all worried about the risk of the inceptors being so close to the mark after the heist.

“There’s no telling what could trigger his memory.”

“Well, y/n spent the most time with him out of all of us and she’s marrying him.”

“We can’t all sleep with him!”

“ENOUGH!”

I then put a rule that there was to be no dream talk at my wedding. My father even gave his own little speech explaining that if anyone ruined my wedding, he would kill them. We all laughed but his continued silence quickly shut us all up.

Robert did not want any family there. And he also didn’t have friends he felt were close enough to warrant an invitation.

One night, whilst planning, I cautiously asked him about inviting his godfather. He tensed up and lowered his eyes. He brushed it off saying it would be too many people. I reluctantly agreed with him whilst looking at the sparsity of his side of the guests.

The wedding was beautiful, and we finished with dancing on the grass well into the early hours of the morning. I got my first dance with my father, a day I thought would never come. Philippa asked Robert to dance, and he graciously accepted, lifting her up onto his feet and they swayed alongside us.

The morning after we were curled up together in bed. My back leaned on his chest as he played with my fingers. The morning sun bleeding into my childhood bedroom.

“Where do you want to live?” His morning voice broke the quiet.

“I thought we were going to move into your house.” I tilted my head to look into his eyes which were trained on a picture of me, my dad and my mum.

“I don’t wanna go back. Being here, in this house, with all the love in it. I just don’t want to go back there.”

“Okay.” I leaned up and planted a soft kiss to his cheek.

“So if you could live in any house, anywhere in the world, where would you live?”

I snuggled myself back into his chest and closed my eyes as I imagined.

“Somewhere in the countryside, with a big sprawling garden that backs onto fields and forests with plenty of walks. The house should be cozy, with a big kitchen with an old fashioned stove that keeps us warm in winter. Wooden tables where I can cook and bake all day long till my hearts content. The house should have big windows so the sunlight can dictate our day. Small bedrooms but big comfy beds, fluffy rugs, open fires. And maybe even an extra room...with a cot.” I met his eyes for the last word.

“Yes.”

“To which bit?”

“To all of it.” We kissed passionately.

A few days later and Robert woke me up and told me we were going on a trip. We bundled into his car and drove for hours until we came to a stop outside a house that seeped with familiarity. I got out, transfixed by what stood before me. It was as real from my mind as if I had created it in my dream. Robert moved to unlock the little gate which led to the front door. He turned to me and held out a set of keys with a little windmill keychain.

“It needs a bit of work and I know I shouldn’t have bought it without showing you—”

“I love it.”

We didn’t need a honeymoon, the two weeks to ourselves spent decorating and filling the house with our love was enough. I drew designs for each room and Robert would do the heavy lifting. I could see how much he enjoyed working with his hands after dismantling his business a week into our relationship. I also was unable to help much as my hand found softly stroked a barely noticeable bump.

We relished in the days of decorating, where trying to paint a single wall would turn into silly games or dancing round to music, intermittent with many kisses and hugs.

Eventually we had built our home out of our house and we relaxed into our sofa, a bottle of red between us. We sealed the night with a kiss and it definitely didn’t end there.

Five Years Later

I stand at the sink washing our dishes from lunch and look out of the window onto our expansive garden. Robert runs about the grass, clad in soft jeans and a ratty knitted jumper. Our three darling children chase around him at varying speeds. Our eldest, Isla, holds her baby sister Aspen’s hand, and Nicholas, the youngest, toddles behind his sisters, excited to be involved.

Arthur runs up from behind and scoops Nicholas up into his arms through the giggling shrieks of the three. He bounces Nicholas up into the air. Isla and Aspen then run over and begin shouting up at their uncle for their turn.

I don’t hear Robert make his way into the house, I just feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist and soft kisses being ladened up and down my neck. I sink back into his body which is warm from the sun. His arms snake down and his hands lay on mine.

“Leave those now. I’ll do them later.” I agree by turning in his arms so we can meet in a proper kiss. His fingers grip my waist and stroke my sides.

Our moment is interrupted by a loud opening of the door. I roll my eyes at the familiar sound and break apart to greet Eames at the door.

“Right! Where are my darling godchildren?”

“I give you a good time to come round, and you insist on coming just before their tea and bath time.”

He laughs and knocks my chin with his knuckle.

“Motherhood suits you.” I bat his hand away and gesture out the door. “Make it quick.”

I turn back to a still laughing Robert who quickly stops once he sees my stern face.

“I’ll ask Eames if he wants to stay for tea with Arthur.” He goes to go back into the garden.

“What you thinking for tea?” I ask his retreating form.

“Chicken and potatoes?”

“Delicious.” He smiles and leaves.

I begin sorting through the mail which still sat on the side. I smiled once I reached a postcard from Dad. He’d taken the kids to Disneyland for a week and sent a picture of them with Goofy. I pinned it up on our cork board.

My peaceful moment is soon interrupted.

“Y/n! Tell Arthur that I’m the favourite uncle!”

“Y/n! Tell Eames that fun does not have to mean dangerous!”

“Mama, mama, Uncle Eames turned me upside down and span me around!”

“See! Dangerous!”

“Honey, where’s the disinfectant? Aspen scraped her knee.”

“Mummy it really hurts!”

“Mama! Uppies! Uppies!”

I picked Nicholas up into my arms and simply giggled, perfectly happy with my life.

It was now night. Arthur and Eames had left after insisting on reading the kids stories which meant they were roped into reading 3 stories per child. Nicholas had gone down first. Then Aspen and even though Isla had loved staying up with mummy and daddy, tiredness had overcome her quickly. So Robert carried her up and tucked her into bed.

We now lay in bed together, curled up. Simply relishing in the silence that was so foreign in our big house.

“Do you wanna know something strange?” He broke the silence. “That day we met, I had a dream about a girl who I fell in love with. I like to think it was you.”

I bit my lip to stop myself uncontrollably grinning.

“And since then, my dreams have been consumed by you and our little family.”

I tried to meet his eyes, but he was locked in thought and I knew I couldn’t interrupt his thoughtfulness.

“The moment I met you I realised that I wanted to create my own family rather than continue working for one that never loved me.”

I hugged him tighter as his voice shook slightly.

“Well, that’s good. Because your family is about to get a little bigger.” I took his hand and drifted it down until it landed on a subtle bump.

“Perfect.” He kissed my hairline as his hand stroked up and down my stomach.

The silence resumed and we both fell deeper into the stillness of the night. But as I drifted off one thought plagued my mind.

Perhaps the idea never actually took hold.

Perhaps it was me and him.

Us together, that changed his life.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Thank you so much for reading!!

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07 @viarosemcmissile @noirrose21-blog @thepoeticfirefly @xoxo-gothic-girl @skeletonwrite @jellyzelek @kaylamarie306-blog @bloodcanbehot @lazybot @raineeace @thearieunhinged @multifans-things @queenofterrasen418 @bey0ndne0 @justanotherkpopstanlol @iamliterallyspidergwen @frozenhuntress67 @alice2612

#cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian series #robert fischer #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer x you #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer inception #ariadne inception #tom hardy inception #arthur inception #inception fanfiction #you're waiting for a train

[burninlovebutler]

Just an Intern // Part 2

pairing: austin x fem!reader - word count: 8k-ish

warnings: SMUTSMUT, moody arrogant asshole!austin, ANGST, hand job, fingering, use of a faucet, multiple o's, overstimulation, mild SA (groping), name calling, masturbation, arguments, physical altercation (not with y/n), alcohol, getting caught, blowjob, 69, p in v (unprotected), inaccurate descriptions of a movie set, 18+ ONLY. MDNI

PART 1 | PART 3 | see my masterlist for all other fics ♡

summary: When your one-off fling returns to the set of Bikeriders after a hiatus, you're overwhelmed with need to make him notice you again. Due to an unforeseen snow storm, you and your crew are snowed in at the nearest ski resort with… limited vacancies.

Special thanks to: @cryingabtab & @lindszeppelin for helping revise this ♡

I miss the way you say my name The way you bend, the way you break Your makeup running down your face The way you fuck, the way you taste When the curtains call the time Will we both go home alive?

After the… incident, you held your pride and decided (stupidly) to not tell Austin how much money his little act had cost you in shattered makeup. However, this only resulted in him sneak in a whopping $500 into your makeup kit. But of course, you were a glutton for defiance so, when he was on set, you’d slip the bills back into his wallet. That game went back and forth for a couple rounds, but you never spoke about it, all silent. Finally, you gave in one day when you found the money in your own wallet after your busted VW Bug had given you trouble that morning.

It went like that between you two pretty much the entire time he was still on set – quiet, weird, and awkward. You fully expected him to go back to the same asshole behavior, but he didn’t, practically pretending you didn’t exist. The ‘Intern’ nickname never retiring though it was seldom used. You were invisible to him, which at first at least, was comforting.

On a crisp fall Wednesday morning you were pleasantly surprised to find the man you had this strange dynamic with, left to shoot another movie, leaving you back with the cast you were familiar with.

That night which just so happened to be the Saturday of Halloween weekend, you were invited to some big Hollywood rooftop party. You went as Harley Quinn since it was last minute and it was the only Halloween costume you had since 2017. Not surprisingly you found a Joker that was fairly attractive and ended up hooking up in the bathroom. As the spray painted green-haired influencer slid in and out of you, you couldn’t help but think about Austin. The way he fucked you against the door, the way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, even his moans filled your head.

As much as you wanted to ignore it, the thought of him was the cause of many sleepless nights. Many nights you couldn’t sleep until you’d fucked yourself dizzy with the thought of him. After Halloween, you’d spent the next month trying to fuck anything even remotely attractive trying to replicate the feeling Austin haunted you with. Yet you fell short in your fruitless efforts. Every Tinder date was just another pump and dump or two second loser or worst of all - those cringey wannabe ‘daddy doms’.

It drove you INSANE, how could this asshole had wormed his way into your brain. The same one who called you all sorts of names, threatened your job and humiliated you in front of the whole cast.

In the time he was gone you’d been promoted head makeup artist since Carol had for some ominous reason been fired. It gave you a sort of pride knowing that upon Austin’s inevitable return, you wouldn’t be just an ‘intern’ anymore.

-

On a particularly cold morning you sleepily opened your trailer door to find a familiar face sitting in your seat – Austin. Your stomach flipped and you hated it, goddamnit you hated it. Why did your body throw butterflies like grenades into your tummy at the sight of him?

“Long time no see Intern.” He stated without even looking up from his phone.

“Morning Actor.” Your tone came out more displeased than intended, his attitude and the nickname reminded you of exactly why you despised him in the first place. You opened your kit and started picking out products, to coordinate for his character.

“You know the scene this time?” He asked finally bringing his attention to you.

His question confused you, ‘this time?’ what the fuck did that mean – until you remembered that was the first thing he asked you that first day in the trailer. Your standards showed just how low they were when you found yourself finding it endearing that he remembered such a small detail.

“I do.” You replied beginning to place product on his face, “Do you know what scene this time?” Flipping the memory back on him. He just grumbled a yes.

The feeling of seeing him again felt familiar to the feeling of when you miss your family and then once you’re around them for about 10 minutes you’re reminded of just why you left home in the first place. Except it only took 10 seconds with Austin. Your stupid masochistic brain kept urging you to ask questions-

‘where’ve you been?’

‘what’ve you been filming?’

‘are you excited about this next scene?’

‘are you happy to be back?’

And the worst of all, ‘did you miss me?’

But why would you even care to ask that? You knew the answer and you didn’t miss him.

Right?

Why would you miss this asshole?

Lost in your thoughts, there was no conversation, no interaction. Just stale awkward silence that made your heart pound in your head and your hands tremble.

-

The weather was a stark contrast to the last time he’d been on set at the last location. It was November but there hadn’t yet been snowfall. Your services were called for 45 minutes in and you went to Tom Hardy first – not only did you want to avoid Austin but you and Tom had grown a much closer friendship.

“Hey Pup! You’re just who I needed to see this morning.” He smiled warmly. Immediately you felt a glare fall on you both.

You chuckled and began touching up his makeup, “Oh yeah and why’s that?”

“Well, you always cheer up my mornings! But I also wanted to ask you a question?” He tried his best to stay still while you worked on him. You nodded indicated for him to continue. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”

You almost choked on your own spit, that was the last thing you thought to come out of his mouth. Though you knew it wasn’t about him since he was married, and he treated you like a father. You felt the stare from before boring into you more. You cleared your throat, “Um, no. I’m not currently seeing anyone. Why?”

“Oh well I just wanted to make sure because I saw you with that guy from the Halloween party-“

You cut him off immediately, “Yes and? Why?” The stare from Austin intensified even more, you swore it could burn right through you.

“Oh well,” He laughed, “One of the crew guys wanted me to ask you. I’m not allowed to say who though.” He added emphasis on ‘say’ followed by his eyes moving over to one of the black haired tattooed stagehands.

 Landon

The hot, toned sound tech had been making advances at you since Austin left. He had taken over Austin’s role as your tormentor, though he wasn’t as bad or fun. You wanted to roll your eyes and dismiss the comment, but what fun would that be? Tom had just given you some bullets for your gun.

You turned slightly to see him across set and give him a little wave when he notices you. “Hm… that’s interesting.” You hummed then gave a shrug, “He is pretty cute.”

Landon was quite different than Austin – dark hair, muscular, tattoos, angular face, even taller than him. It was no secret that Landon had a thing for you, he made it quite obvious with various offhand comments and failed date requests. While his attempts sometimes overstepped, they were mostly innocent, but there was something about him that made you feel uneasy – or maybe it was because you constantly compared him to Austin.

You didn’t want to move on to the infuriating actor, especially since the comment about Landon but you needed to. You began adding some powder to his face.

“Halloween party huh?” He questioned without missing a beat.

“I went to a Halloween party, yes.” You replied in a harsher tone, “Not that that’s any of your business.” When you stepped backwards to check your work you notice that his lips are chapped; probably from the cold. You took out a brand new chapstick and gently tapping it on his plump lips. The full pinkness of them reminded you of how they felt on your neck last time and the stir in your core confirmed it.

-

This set wasn’t much different from the last, a Western looking town that was supposed to be a different area in the movie. Wooden buildings lined a strip littered with faux shops and stores, some used for different inside scenes. And of course, motorcycles all over.

After the interaction over Landon that morning, things had been unusually calm from Austin. So unusual in fact that he was barely acknowledging you. But that’s what you wanted wasn’t it? To not bother you? But it felt more like a frustrating punishment than anything. You wanted to get his attention but wasn’t sure how, it was freezing cold and you couldn’t use your short dresses anymore.

There was something you could use – Landon.

Austin’s demeanor had changed after the mention of him and had shot lasers into you when you spoke about him – so perhaps provoking the lion may be exactly what you needed to regain his attention.

Predictably, Landon lingered near you when you worked near set trying to map out certain looks and glanced over at Austin to see if you were in his eyeline. Once you guaranteed his focus, his eyes briefly meeting yours, you called over Landon.

“Hey,” You smiled flirtatiously, “You think I could get your opinion on this?”

His ego visibly boosted, “Yeah sure. Oh yeah-“ He lifted a box full of candy canes, “You want one? We accidently ordered a million for Christmas.”

The corners of your mouth immediately curled up, candy canes.

Your banana stunt had shaken Austin so much last time – this would be so much better. You could properly show him how much you had thought about his cock in your mouth.

“Oh absolutely.” You smirked, plucking a cane-shaped candy. Once again you felt eyes tracking you, it was almost like you could hear him saying ‘don’t you fucking dare’.

You peeled the plastic off the bottom end, wrapped your lips around the middle and dragged your lips down the sugary treat.

You over animated your flirtatious gestures with Landon, pausing with the candy in your mouth and cheeks hollowed. You took it up a notch by getting touchy with him, landing a hand on his arms and giving the obligatory fake playful laugh. Landon was eating it up, you almost felt bad that you were leading him on.

Only half way through your snack you were called for a touch up. When you finally got to Austin, lithe legs propped at each side of his bike. The reminder of you straddling his bike last time stirred the exact feeling as when you left your wetness on his seat last time. His makeup is visibly messed up, like he purposely smeared his fingers through his foundation. “What the fuck did you do?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“I didn’t do anything.” He replied blandly, his tone filtered behind some wall, “Can you just fix it?”

Your eyes rolled involuntarily, “Yeah.”

Midway through your application you noticed his jaw clench before speaking again, “I know what you’re doing.” Grumbling, his eyes struggling to not focus on your mouth holding the cane while you worked.

You slid it past your freshly glossed lips, “’I didn’t do anything.’” You mimicked him from just earlier.

His gaze darkened now not even hiding it’s focus on your mouth, “You have to stop that.” He looked you dead in the eyes that time.

You got exactly what you wanted. His attention. Power.

He eyed you like prey, indigo eyes locked back on your lips that housed the candy. You could tell he wanted to play, he wanted to invest in your little game but the playfulness in his blues was vacant. “Cut it out.” He repeated lowly and through gritted teeth so no one would hear.

You smirked like a brat as you leaned down to his eye-line, “Or what?” Your cheeks hallowed as you slowly sunk the cane back into your mouth, how far could you really tease him? You wanted to see what he’d do about it.

In a swift motion he snatched the candy cane from your lips bringing it between his molars and roughly snapping it in half with a crunch. “Don’t you fucking listen? I told you to cut it out.” Nearly growling and shoved the now broken candy into your hand. Your cheeks blushed at the feeling of the surrounding crew catching the incident and you caught him looking embarrassed, as if he had just made a scene at dinner.

Directors called to shoot again, and you noticed his readjustment when you left.

Your little stunt worked, all throughout the scenes he watched you like a hawk. You made sure to take your time withering down the rest of the sugary stick, making sure he knew just how slow. After a while it became a game, the more you distracted him the more times they yelled cut. The more times you got to see him hide his physical reaction to you. You could see the annoyance building in him. Deep down you were almost scared at how he’d react once you had to interact again. But you definitely wanted to find out.

And when they called for a 30 the fear settled in the pit of your stomach when he stomped over you at your section. Before you had a chance to even respond, he discreetly gripped your wrist, hiding it from the dissipating crew from set. Leaning closer into you he muttered, “When everyone files out, you’re coming with me.”

You pointlessly tried to wriggle from his tight grip, “I don’t wanna go anywhere with you.”

His hold only tightened around you, “You’re a fucking shitty liar.” Once he confirmed everyone had left, he hauled you into one of the functioning sets, a dark wooden saloon. He locked the door behind you both and closed the blinds behind each window.

As he was walking towards you with eyes as dark as a demon, you questioned why you antagonized the hungry tiger in the first place. You walked backwards from him, stumbling over some chairs.

“This is a little uncalled for don’t ya think? I was just eating some candy…” You began to ration, the terror filling your tummy. Though you were scared you were also full to the brim with excitement, like a cat and mouse game. He stalked you to behind the bar, the area was littered with prop alcohol bottles and glasses. He backed you in front of the sink, his hands firm on your hips, “You know exactly what you were doing Intern.” He lowered just below your ear and lead your hand to his hard cock staining his jeans, “Is that what you wanted?”

“I-“ Immediately melting under his lips that met your neck and you decided to be honest, “Yeah – it’s exactly what I wanted.”

He pressed into you when you began palming him over his jeans, “I’m not even here 24 hours and you’re already asking for my cock? You must’ve really missed me.” Arrogance returning to his demeanor.

You weren’t really sure how to answer that question, it wasn’t so much that you missed him – you missed the buzz that laid claim to your entire body when he touched you.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” In one fail swoop he lifted you onto the sink, your body balanced on the divide of the cold metal basin. Just as quick, he had somehow managed to unzip and pull the pants right off your body. While he was trying to keep any composure, you could tell he was insatiable, his hands all over you, his lips all over your neck, he couldn’t get enough of you.

“I didn’t fucking miss you.” Attempting to speak over the heaving of your chest, “Feels a lot like you missed me though.”

“Why would I ignore such an annoying pest as you?” His words didn’t match his intensified actions. His hand trailed up your thighs, spreading your legs apart. A middle finger slowly and meticulously traced up your wet slit, “Now your cunt? That’s something I might’ve missed.” And easily slipped two fingers into your soaked core and his thumb following suit, landing on your pulsing clit.

After a sharp gasp you managed to rebuttal, “Good- glad we’re on the same page.”

“Good.” He groaned when your hand unzipped his dark jeans and wrapped your hand around his bare member still in his boxers.

“Fuck,” You breathed out and lulled your head back when his thumb circled your clit, “Fuck that feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He lifted his assault on your neck for just a second, “Your hand feels so fucking good around me.”

“Fuck Austin,” You moaned but soon realized your misstep and you hoped he missed it but the curl of his lips on your neck proved otherwise.

“So you do know my name.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up and fuck me?” The words shot out of your mouth out of sheer desperation and annoyance.

“Oh, nu uh darlin’, you think you’re gonna get away with what you did?” His hand slipped from you, causing a whine from the loss of pleasure.

He analyzed around the sink like he was searching for something then found exactly his target. He pulled down the retractable faucet head.

No- he wouldn’t, would he?

His hands pushed up your flowy long sleeve shirt to your waist to reduce the evidence then reached behind you to the faucet handle. In a flash the jet stream of first cold then slightly warm water hit your throbbing bundle. You immediately let out moan you didn’t intend to be as loud.

“What’s wrong baby? Is it a bit too strong?”

Baby

You were too focused on not climaxing so early to even process how much worse that nickname was than your own slip up. Even worse, the name only turned you on more. You helplessly nodded, completely void of words.

Your own descent didn’t halt your work on his throbbing cock, from the sticky precum seeping from his tip you could tell he was close too. Somewhere in your bliss filled brain, the game still waged on and you got an idea you needed to see through.

“Aw darlin’” He growled though you hear him struggling too, his cock twitching in your hand, “You gonna cum already?”

You contemplated denying it but your defenses were completely down full of need, “Yes- Please, please let me cum.”

“I don’t think so, you’re gonna have to do better than that.” Letting out small groans as your hand sped up on his girth. He retaliated by using his free hand to push the nozzle to the highest pressure.

A loud sob fell from your lips and every cell in your body screamed for release, your legs were trembling, your hand gripped on his forearm and your body vibrating from how viciously your orgasm threatened to take over. “Please sir, please let me cum, I need to cum please please.” You desperately begged.

He let out a deep grunt into your shoulder, “Fuck- good girl, cum for me.”

Full blinding euphoria washed over you, loud moans ripped from your throat unable to control the volume. It was clear he didn’t expect your reaction from the groans that filled your own ears. His teeth dug into the small of your neck and his free hand digging nto your thigh harshly when you felt his own orgasm covering your hand in thick ribbons of cum and coating the inside of his boxers. His hand never left the faucet head on you through his climax. Your orgasm continued to roll through you, the feeling of his cum on your hand only heightened your pleasure.

Once he started to come down you knew your plot to make him finish in his pants had consequences. He ripped your hand from his girth. “Look what you’ve done.” His tone so fucking angry.

“I’m-I’m sor-“ He brought your cum covered hand to your face, smeared it across your entire makeup covered face. His seed coated your cheeks, mouth and nose.

“That’s what teasing fucking whores get.” He taunted below your ear, “I’ll give you exactly what you wanted.” He returned the jet stream back onto your sensitive clit. You whined and tried to scoot away but his strong hand kept your hips in place, “You’re gonna take this like the little slut you are.”

The water was overriding every nerve ending the stimulation was almost painful. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t do this.” You wiggled beneath his hold. “It’s too much Austin, please.” Tears starting to well in your eyes.

“I know baby, I know.” He swirled the water around your sensitivity, “Just trust me, it’ll feel good. I promise.” He whispered and something about how his voice had softened made you believe him. It must’ve been quite obvious that you’d never been overstimulated like that before.

“Okay- Fuck.” You struggled beneath him, wondering when exactly it would start to feel good. Then suddenly breaking through the discomfort was a pleasure so strong, one you’d never felt before. This orgasm made the first one seem tame. Not a sound came from you as the ecstasy tore though you.

After it past the faucet was still on you but you were past any hope of another orgasm and it was even more painful than before. Your reflex pushed the steam from your center and back into the sink. Your heavy breathing in sync with each other, neither one daring to move or speak.

You expected him to warn you that you’d pay for making him finish in his pants, he just zipped back up. The air in the room had changed and was nothing like last time. He went to walk away from you but came back and pressed a finger into your sternum, his brows low and anger swirling in his face. “This isn’t fucking happening again. Got it?”

-

His words rang in your head the rest of the day. Every touch up after was silent, uncomfortable – so much so even Tom noticed the odd energy, making sure to move away from Austin whenever you had to work on him. He tried to ask you about it but you shut him down any inquiry.

Just before the sun fully disappeared behind mountains, flurries of snow began coating the set and everything in its wake. It fell and piled up in record speed.

The entire cast and crew were huddled into each trailer when a director came to the door with a sullen and irritated face. “They closed the roads.”

A roar of chatter filled the room with the realization that you all were stuck there. How nobody on crew thought to look at the fucking weather forecast you had no fucking clue.

“I know, I know.” He sighed, “Good news is the ski resort up the mountain agreed to take us, and we got a green light to pass if we leave now.”

Your coworkers began to filter out leaving you with the settling realization that your tiny beater Volkswagen wouldn’t make it up the mountain none the less in deep snow.

“Fuck.” You breathed out running after your director and grabbed his arm, “Can I carpool with you guys? My car’s not gonna make it up there.”

“I think my car’s already full but…” His eyes scanned across the emptying set, landing on an option. “Austin could probably take you.” He pointed at him only a couple feet away from you.

Of fucking course.

The displeasure clearly washed over his face from being elected for something he didn’t offer to do.

“Sure.” His tone poorly hidden behind a gripe. “C’mon we don’t have all day.”

The trek to his car was just as uncomfortable as you expected, you wanted to apologize for bothering him but he didn’t deserve it. Once in the car his demeanor was unnecessarily aggressive – his hands gripping the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, every action sharp. You would’ve thought you had done something horrendous to him. But all you did was exist.

“Well I-“ You began before he cut you off.

“I don’t want to fucking talk.” Halting any interaction.

“Fine.” You muttered, slumping down into the passenger seat trying to stay warm. His car was freezing, you had no idea how he wasn’t dying from the cold. He glanced over to you when your teeth started chattering and finally turned on the heat. When your chattering didn’t subside you felt his gaze land on you once more, yet you kept your eyes off him. Then out of the corner of your eye, you caught him ever so discreetly twist the knob for the seat heaters.

“Thank you.” You begrudgingly commented but he tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he navigated through the snow and into the resort parking lot. It felt like he hadn’t even parked before jumping out of the car and slamming the door.

The twist in your stomach from his actions feigned sadness, but you were just offended right?

You caught up to him just in time to hear the words that made Austin immediately even angrier than before.

“I’m sorry, but unfortunately it looks like we only have one room left.” The clerk said sounding intimidated by his expression.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath assessing your options. But the roads were blocked and there was nowhere else to go, you were stuck.

“Please tell me there’s at least two beds.” You sighed, terrified of the answer.

She gave a hesitant face, “I’m so sorry but it is not. It is one of our studio rooms.”

Great, so it was tiny too.

“Wonderful.” He snatched his room key and headed quickly to the elevator.

“Thank you.” You said apologetically and gently took your key, jogging to catch him.

The resort resembled a log cabin, red buffalo print accents everywhere, a stone fireplace, and moose heads mounted to the walls.

“Listen I’m not fucking happy about this either.” You state firmly, “But you don’t have to be a dickhead about it.”

He ignored you when he pressed the elevator button and continued the entire way up and even to your room door. He dropped his go bag on a leather ottoman, grabbing some clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Probably to finally wash off the accident you caused earlier.

You dropped your own go bag on the bed and fell on it, absolutely exhausted and confused. What the fuck had your life become? Having quickie with an actor one set and now stuck in a room with him? An actor that hates you?

You must’ve fallen asleep because the bustle of Austin freshly showered and in dark slacks and a button down.

“Where are you going?” You asked rubbing the nap from your eye.

“Bar.” He replied plainly and left the room.

Fuck.

You weren’t just gonna sit there like a lame ass waiting for him to get back. Then you remembered your secret weapon – Landon.

After whatever the fuck Austin put you through, anything Landon did wouldn’t be as bad.

Once freshened up and wearing a convenient slinky dress you had snatched from your go bag, you found the resort bar and spotted your resident tormentor talking to some tiny blonde extra. The odd twist in your stomach from earlier returned but you played it off as disgust.

“A lemon drop martini please.” You ordered just beside Landon who looked much better outside of work. A maroon button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off his traditional style tattoos.

“Well, hello there,” He grinned, popping deep dimples into his cheeks. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

While the mission drove you to him, maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe he could take your mind off of Austin.

“Well, I’m here.” You smiled up at him as you took a sip of your drink.

Soon it became evident that he was several drinks in, his words slurring, his imbalanced stance. It became incredibly obvious when his arm wrapped around your waist and landing on your hip. His unwarranted touch crept a alarming discomfort in your body, instantly tensing up under his hand.

Nervously giggling you slowly pulled from his grasp, “You’re so funny.”

His hold on you only constricted and his hand lowered to your ass.

“I would really appreciate it if you didn’t-“ Making another attempt at escaping.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” He mumbled into your ear, “I’ve heard the rumors about you.”

It was when his lips met your neck that the fear fully kicked in fueling your strength to yank from him, “Please don’t fucking touch me.”

All eyes in the bar were on you two, including the asshole that was the cause of whatever rumors Landon mentioned. The darkhaired drunk was clearly pissed at your reaction and stole you back into his abrasive hands.

“Don’t act all innocent now, I know how big of a slut you are.” He muttered but stumbled back when a massive hand landed on his chest.

“Leave her the fuck alone.” A familiar voice warned. Your eyes trailed up his stern arm and up to his twisted face, vicious eyes burning into Landon.

“Oh, what’s wrong? Don’t like to share your whore?” The stagehand retorted.

Austin’s fist twisted into Landon’s shirt shoving him back, “Don’t fucking say shit like that.” He growled through clenched teeth. The sight of his protectiveness sent butterflies down to your stomach.

“C’mon man, you know she’s nobody, she’s just a fucking intern, she’s nothing.”

In a flash before you could even process, a heavy fist landed into his drunken smirk.

Landon’s hand instantly covered his now bleeding nose, “Dude what the fuck!”

“Don’t fucking do that again.” He snarled, “And don’t fucking call her that.” Pushing him back before storming away. Something about him defending you only swirled warmth in your hips. He just punched someone for you.

“Fuck you.” You spat, taking the rest of his beer along with your drink and poured them all over him.

And again, you were chasing after a fuming Austin. “Hey!” You called after him grasping his forearm. “What the fuck was that about? Why would you do that?”

“Oh I don’t fucking know, (Y/N) maybe because he was assaulting you?” Slapping your arm off him then continuing his pursuit back up your room.

“Right, but you fucking hate me.” You stated the obvious as he walked away from you again and into the elevator. “Can you fucking stop being a child and talk to me?” You pressed once the elevator doors closed behind you.

“I save you and you call me a child?” He scoffed, “You should be thanking me.”

The moment those lift doors opened his stomps quickly crossed down the long wooden hallway.

“I mean- yeah but like…” Your chest heavy from all the fast walking. Slipping through the crack of the door before he could lock you out.

“I am grateful for what you did-“ You attempted to mask your heavy breathing, “I’m just confused about why you did it.”

He didn’t need to turn around for you to know he was rolling his eyes. “I’m not fucking heartless Int- y/n.” He skirted around ‘intern’ completely hypocritical to how he normally addresses you.

“You know my name.” Stepping towards him and pointing out the elephant in the room.

He took a deep sigh, “Yes I know your name. I also know you’re not an ‘Intern’ anymore.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re still an intern to me.”

“So, you can call me that but Landon can’t? What the fuck is that about?”

He groaned exasperated, running a hand through his thick golden hair, “I don’t fucking know (y/n), okay? That’s my nickname for you, I started it.”

“So you’re the only one allowed to call me that?” Scoffing at his words.

His expression intensified on you, taking a step forward, “I don’t fucking like you Intern.” Pressing an index into your sternum, “I am so fucking sick of your bullshit.”

“Bullshit? What bullshit? Just me existing? And doing my job?” You snapped back, halting slightly when the wall behind you met your backside. Furious hot blood ran through your veins but also down into your core and between your legs. Just the sight of him enraged turned you on, especially when he had taken it out on someone for you – especially when you were the cause of it.

“You know what you do and i’m sick of it. I told you last time to cut that shit out.” His cobalt eyes boring into your own.

In a strong tide of brat ebbed into you, “Or what? Whatcha gonna do about it huh?”

The swirling conflict in his face revealed his own restraint from you, you were driving him mad too. He huffed and pushed himself off the wall, bringing a hand to his forehead, “You’re fucking impossible.” Circling back to you, “Has anyone ever fucking told you that you’re insufferable?”

His words only igniting the steam seeping from your ears. Insufferable? Who fucking calls someone insufferable?

Your fingers curled into tight fists and eyebrows scrunched, “Me? Me insufferable?” Pushing yourself off the wall, pointing your index at him, “Have you fucking met yourself? If either of us are insufferable, its fucking you,” Jabbing into his chest, keeping eyes locked on his, “You’re so fucking unbearable. You make my job fucking miserable and I fucking hate you.” The words poured out of you through vicious emotion.

There was a shift in Austin’s face, you couldn’t tell if it was more anger or something else entirely. “Yeah, well if I’m so fucking intolerable, I’ll find somewhere else to fucking sleep.” Austin made a sharp turn towards the door.

“Where the fuck are you going to sleep? There’s no rooms left.” You called from the other side of the hotelroom.

Austin halted and you thought he’d made a connection at the obvious, that there was nowhere else to sleep but his hand stilled on the doorhandle. He just barely turned his face to the side speaking over his shoulder, “I’d rather sleep on a bench or in my fucking car before I ever share a bed with you.” Slamming the heavy door behind him.

His words stung the same way the ones on set did – ‘this isn’t fucking happening again’ – it was kinda the same sentiment, wasn’t it? He didn’t want anything to do with you. Maybe you were the pest after all.

The somber energy was quickly replaced with molten hot lava still steaming through your veins. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding and rested against the wall. Suddenly the memory of him pressing you against the wall in fury just minutes ago, which then led to reminiscing over that day in the trailer… him chaining you to the door. Overwhelming anger and testosterone lingered in the air and it sent butterflies swarming in your core. As much as you knew you should be pissed about how he just acted it didn’t stop the pooling between your legs.

You took in the situation, you were alone. Austin left and you now had a room all to yourself. Your eyes landed on the small bed, your steps toward it like tiptoeing in a house at night, like you were trying to hide from yourself. The internalized shame only fueled the rampant thumping in your pussy, your fingers hooked into the band of your panties and pulled them down before crawling on the pre-made bed. Timid fingers slithered down your torso towards your open legs, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. Your chest was rising and falling, and a concrete pit fell to your tummy. When your middle and ring finger landed where the pulsing demanded attention you couldn’t help a tiny moan out.

Circles swirled on your swollen clit, “Fuck.” You breathed out lulling your head back and closed your eyes. The gentle rotation sent shock waves through your body and urged it to speed up, but you wanted this to last. You wanted to savor it.

Your digits were good, but Austin’s were better and the thought of him was definitely not helping your slow-and-steady goal. The glaring sound of your heart racing filled your ears, and the pleasure caused your entire body to respond, your back arching in time with your fingers. Without any restraint, “Fuck Austin.” You moaned.

“Ahem.” A much too familiar voice shocked you from your trance, eyes shooting wide open, and legs tightly clamped around your hand.

A bright rouge emerged on your embarrassed cheeks, “What the fuck are you doing here, I thought you left!”

“I left my bag, but I don’t think that’s the important question right now.” He stated casually but you observed how his eyes trailed down your body.

“Can you just please get the fuck out?” Fluster clear in your tone, tilting your body from him.

“Hm,” He ignored the question then his eyes finally landing on your flushed face, “Is this because of me?”

“W-What?” Caught off guard but hastily shook your head, “Just get the fuck out please.”

“No, No answer the question.” He stepped next to the bed, hips level with your rested head.

“I um-“ You raked through possible excuses, “No, of course not.”

“Hm,” He hummed again, a gently touch starting to draw up your leg, “So you weren’t thinking about that faucet on your cunt?” His wandering hand stopped at your hip.

“Nope,” You replied confidently, attempting to tame your body’s natural response to his touch.

An index traced up your bent leg, “Is it because of me?” He repeated.

“Is what because of you?”

Effortlessly, he pried your legs apart, “That. Are you touching yourself because of me?” Before you could even answer his knuckle slid down your inner thigh, his digits landing on your own. “If I caused it, I should fix it.” He gently pressed on your fingers signaling to let him take over. “Just like…” His free hand drawing yours to the bulge in his pants. “You caused this. So you’re gonna fix it.”

You didn’t need to be told twice to pull him out of his pants and start stroking his veiny length that your hand could barely fit around. He immediately snatched your wrist, “Not like that. Your mouth.”

You hesitantly looked up at him, he was so big there was no way you’d be able to take him. Though, when his fingers started moving you knew you didn’t want to stop. With a slight readjustment, you softly twirled your tongue around his head, triggering a deep rumble from his chest. “Yeah, just like that.” His free hand found your hair and tangled his fingers into it, curling at the roots with a tug.

You used your closest hand to wrap around the rest of him that couldn’t fit in your mouth beginning to pump at the base while you gained a rhythm bobbing your head on his shaft. The way his body responded to you – his cock twitching on your tongue, deep guttural groans and his hips shoving himself further down your throat – sent flurries of buzzing pleasure to your swelling bud. He was responding like that because of you, you made him unravel. The reminder of his status rang in your head – you had the oh so sought-after Oscar-winning actor balls deep in your throat. It was quite an ego boost. You kept your gaze on him, watching his face contort with pleasure. His hand slid down the side of your face when he looked down at you, his palm finding your cheek. “You look so fucking pretty with your lips around my cock.”

Pretty

What a soft name to use in such a sexual act. If it was one thing you knew about ‘Austin Butler’ was that he was anything but soft.

You hummed around him, your lips bet the edge of your fist with every repetition. His cock thickened and swole to be a rock-hard throbbing mess, with the taste of his pre-cum you sensed he was close. Pulling off with a pop, you looked up with big puppy-dog eyes, “Wanna cum on my face?”

He shook his head, “No darlin I’m just gettin’ started.” The hand was once in your hair, now ran up your side trailing goosebumps behind. “Hold steady will ya?” You had no idea what that meant especially when he escaped from your grasp. He swiftly dropped his jeans, stepping out of them then climbed onto the bed, anchoring a knee at each side of your head. He tapped his wet cock on your lips, “Open up.”

Your eyes widened but obliged, opening up for him and taking him even deeper than before down your throat. He leaned froward at an angle starting to thrust into your mouth, gaining a deep grunt from him. While he kept fucking your mouth, a hand trailed down your abdomen ending at your thighs and promptly spread them. Your pussy was practically vibrating at the realization of what he was doing, bending down fully and flattening his tongue against your clit. You couldn’t help but let out a tiny squeak.

Immediately your hips rolled up against his tongue desperate for more. His tongue felt so fucking good, sending scorching shivers across your skin. The pleasure began to compound into your clit and the knot in your tummy told you that you wouldn’t last as long either. You let out a groan around his girth as the tingling in your center grew and you knew you had to do something in order to not fold so quickly.

Using all your strength and taking advantage of his lowered guard, you practically threw you both into a roll, landing you on top. He took no time in adjusting to the new position, in fact the twitching of his cock in your mouth told you it only turned him on more. The change of events gave you a new sense of confidence, slowly pulling off his length, keeping your tongue on him til you came off with a pop. He responded with a vibrating moan on your pussy, eating you more voraciously. You rutted your hips on his face, his hands caressed up your thighs and molded to your hips carefully. But you wanted more, so you gently guided up his hands guiding up your torso to your breasts. His hands instantly began massaging your mounds and playing with your nipples over your dress. “Fuck.” You breathed out, taking in the little bit of control you’d gained.

Without warning, from one particularly delicious round of his tongue on your clit, your orgasm washed over you almost violently. You should’ve been embarrassed at how loud you were being, seeing as your room was next to the others but in that moment you couldn’t care. How could you when your mind was blinking flashes of white as your orgasm ripped through you.

You needed him and you needed him now. In a feral jolt you attempted to get off his face, the sensation getting too much. He instantly gripped your hips, digging his nails into them holding them in place just above his lips. “Remember what I told you earlier, it’ll feel good. I promise.” His voice so rich and dripping in dark desire. Then he did something you didn’t expect, he blew a stream of air directly on your throbbing nub, sending chills and goose bumps to erupt across your skin. You were so sensitive that just the blow of air sent you into another frenzied orgasm. Your juices were dripping down your thighs and onto him and you couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him.

Mid-orgasm you somehow managed to rip from his grip, flip over and slide yourself on his still erect member. The sudden contact gained you a loud groan and his long digits back curled around your hips, a feeling you were beginning to crave. He looked at you with dark navy eyes full of utter loathing, the look alone was driving you crazy. How could someone looking at you with such hate turn you on so much?

Your eyes rolled back once the head of his cock was planted in the deepest part of your core and you began to roll your hips keeping him in place. Your own hatred for him fueled your actions, faster, harder, angrier. Now that you had a full view of him, every single little off-hand comment or insult pushed you to ruin him.

His hands drew up your waist, then your chest, seemingly taking in every inch of you, then grasped you by your midsection pulling you down to face him. A split second passed as he studied your face, then most unexpectedly, using his hands to pull you into a kiss. It was a jarring shock at first, especially since you were mentally preparing his demise just seconds ago, but you easily melted into it. His tongue slid across your bottom lip begging for entrance and you obliged.

The tip of his tongue hesitantly met yours before dancing against it ravenously. From what little you knew about this man, you at least knew that hesitation was not in his arsenal of abilities. Out of everything, why the fuck would he hesitate over a measly kiss?

He trailed down your body, again giving each part of you attention before landing on your hips once more. This time his grip was tight than ever, and it was clear as to why when he kept you in place when he started to thrust into you from below. The position allowed his dick to reach greater depths within you. In one sharp ram into your core, you both let out moans into each other’s mouths. Your fingers found his hair and intertwined in it, his pumps and your tongues at work never halting.

The sound of your bodies colliding against each other filled the room and his pumps became quick and erratic. You could tell he was close, so you decided to help him a little extra by clenching your walls around him each time his cock filled you fully. Shortly after your extra aid he spilled a thick river of cum deep inside you, his entire body tensing beneath you. Since his movements halted from his orgasm you took over, bouncing on his member to ride out his high.

You finally pulled from his plump lips and he let out a tiny whine as if he didn’t want to let you go. Once you felt him begin to soften inside you, you pulled off and fell next to him. Your chests rose and fell in time with each other, equally coated in sweat. A silence fell over the room as the realization of the event started to settle in, suddenly the giant elephant entered the room again. Your eyes locked onto the dark wooden ceiling, words couldn’t seem to form in your fucked-out mind.

Out of your peripheral you caught him close his eyes and take a deep breath. He spoke nothing and peeled himself from the plush duvet, taking a moment to sit on the edge in thought then crossing the room, disappearing into the bathroom then reappearing with a towel.

“Here.” He said simply offering the white cloth, even the tiny peace offering held distain.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, snatching the towel and started to clean yourself up. “So um are you-“ He stopped you before you began.

“I’m staying.” He never even so much as looked at you and just went through his leather go-bag, pulling out what looked like pajama pants.

“But why you said-“ You began to protest but was once again cut off.

“I didn’t find another place to sleep.” His voice so emotionless and deadpan. “So, I’m stuck here with you.”

You scoffed, “Because that would be so fucking bad?” Pulling yourself up on your elbows to look over at him.

His turned and eyes locked onto you like a target, eyes void of any feeling that wasn’t abhorrence. “Yes. It is. Because I’ve truly never met somebody that I hate more than you. Being trapped in the pits of hell sounds more pleasant than spending the night here with you. So, just stay on your side of the bed and I’ll stay on mine.”

A burning flared across your body in anger and roaring even fiercer in your chest with a feeling you couldn’t place. How could someone be so fucking vile over someone they barely knew. “Fine.” Your tone matched his with equal aggression. “Fucking sounds good to me.”

-

-> Part 3 up now 💓

taglist: @lindszeppelin @steph-speaks @sagesolsticewrites @presleysdarling @purejasmine @slowsweetlove @powerofelvis @pennyroyalcreep @navsblog @eliseinmemphis @cryingabtab @ab4eva @infatuatedharleys @samfangirls @julie181 @ccab @denised916 @katelswan @amaliking @michellelv @butlersluvbot @coloradohighs @rairaielv @centaine @babyminghao @saesire @h3ll0k1tt9 @tchalametishot @austinbutlerinleather

If you'd like to be tagged in a potential Part 3 please comment 💗

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like angsty sad smutty you’ll probably like it lol

also pls consider giving this a like, comment or reblog ♡

#i hope you guys love this #i edited this like 50 million times #just an intern fic #austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler x afab!oc #austin butler smut #austin butler angst #austin butler fluff #fanfic #enemies to lovers #austin butler enemies to lovers #austin butler x y/n #bikeriders austin butler #the bikeriders movie #bikeriders movie #tom hardy lol #bikeriders fic

[call-sign-shark]

𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓀’𝓈 𝒳𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎, 6th December

In the middle of his chaos there was her, there had always been her, the only flower that grown in lifeless soil. As soft and enchanting as she was, Rose Solomons had been standing by his side in raging storms and murderous tempests, keeping him from breaking so many times Alfie had lost count. Offering her a peaceful life near the beach was the least could do. And each time he looked at their daughter playing with the sand, her mother’s hat on her head and a smile beaming, he knew he was the luckiest man on earth.

To celebrate Christmas I’ve been using my free time lately to create 23 gifts that are already programmed, most of them for my beloved Peaky blinders mutuals. I’ll post one gift per day until Christmas, so stay tuned in because yours are coming. You just don’t know when! 🎄-I’m a day late with this one but I was working all day and evening, so I’ll post two gifts today. -

#Peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #Sharksmas #Alfie Solomons #Tom Hardy #Alfie Solomons x OC #Rose Coldwell

[wandawiccan60]

I’m Sorry

An Alfie Solomons X Freya(FemOC)One-Shot

A/N: Hello everyone I know I have ghosted for a while just school and other things have happened lately good and bad really. But enough said but here is a lovely lovely One-Shot that I had the honor with working with my bestie and lovely @i-love-th-characters1. We thought of this story out of nowhere and we decided to make Alfie be such a brute because we thought that Alfie never really apologizes so we decided to make this tale of him and we are very proud to share this short and yet long one shot of the lovely King of Camden Town and his beautiful Scandinavian. Gypsy Freya(our very own OC). Romance, Friendship, etc is presented before your eyes and I hope you all enjoy this as much as me and I-love had such a fun and brainstorming time to bring this to life. Without further ado please as always enjoy, Reblog, Comment, and thank you all for being around I appreciate it every single one of you.

Summary: ”I'm Sorry." 

Two words that she never thought she would hear from the man in front of her. If she's honest, she did look at him like he had 3 heads. Silence took over as they both stared at each other, wondering who would break it as his apology lingered between them.

WARNING 18+: Fem is a Virgin, Lit SMUT, Cussing, Mentions of Alcohol, & Lots Fluff

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The old grandfather clock chimed throughout the small hallway indicating that it was past 10 o'clock at night. Freya was peacefully sitting on the red velvet couch facing the small chimney fireplace. While in her hands she continued to read a book that she got from one of the bookshelves. Cyril was lying next to her feet on the floor while the smooth breeze of the ocean outside the window came inside the lit-up living room. Freya let out a low sigh placing the closed book on top of her lap feeling uneasy about Alfie not arriving home yet. 

“Where could he be, it’s getting late?” she said out loud resting her back against the head of the couch hearing the crackling sound of the fireplace continuing to burn. 

Feeling like time was going slow for Freya, Sophia, their young maid, appeared inside the living room making Cyril lift his head up from his nap. 

“Would you like me to get you anything else for tonight Mrs. Solomons?” the young girl asked while picking up the silver tray from the small brown table in front of Freya.

“No, I’m quite alright now, Sophia thank you. It's best you head home. I'm still waiting for Alfie to arrive from his workplace. Don’t you worry about me, I can take care of the rest of the house. You have done a lot today which I appreciate very much and so does Alfie but enough said. Oh, and yes, your payment for this week's salary I’ll get that right away for you my dear. I’ll be right back,” Freya said, walking her way out of the living room to head to Alfie’s office, while Sophia put away the tea tray in the kitchen area.

A few minutes later Freya returned with the young woman’s payment in her hands, she saw Sophia giving cuddles and scratches to the big Bullmastiff. She smiled at the site while the big dog lay on his back enjoying the amount of attention he was getting from the young housemaid. 

“Silly Cyril you, now come on then off to bed with you. Go on shoo, shoo,” Freya clapped commanding the big brown mutt to go away but was not listening. 

“Hehe, seems he doesn't want to go to bed just yet, but I must go now Cyril I’ll see you tomorrow you sweet dog,” Sophia cooed raising herself on her feet smoothing out her white shirt dress.

“Here you go love,” Freya said handing over the young woman’s money as she continued speaking, “We’ll see you at the same hour in the morning as always, you walk safely back home now. Goodnight Sophia.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Solomons, and I’ll be here at 7 in the morning sharp like I always do. And it is a pleasure to serve you and Mr. Solomon-.”

The front door suddenly burst open making both women jump back in fright, noticing Alfie angrily mumbling some words under his breath. Both Sophia and Freya couldn't quite catch what he was saying, as he shut the door with force. 

“Fuckin’ hell can tonight be something more difficult than the other nights,” Alfie loudly said walking his way towards his office room not noticing the girl's presence who have been seeing his small tantrum all this time.

“Umm, well then that means he didn’t have a good day at work I suppose. I apologize for my husband's behavior Sophia, he really isn't like this every night believe me. Anyways again goodnight dear, until the morning,” said Freya, opening the door for Sophia feeling embarrassed on the inside from Alfie’s actions.

After Sophia left the house, Freya with a small temper growing from inside, quickly walked her way toward her husband's private office. Cyril followed right behind as she opened the door with ferocity, seeing his back facing her way.

“What the fuck is the matter with you, Alfie? Have you gone out of your mind coming back home with that temperament?” Freya questioned, closing the door behind her and crossing her arms in front of her chest glaring her eyes directed at him.

“So fuckin’ what, eh? I can act whatever way I want, yea, you won’ understand the amount of shit I went through today,” he said, forwarding himself on his knuckles on top of his desk, letting out a big frustrated sigh.

Freya let out a slow sigh trying her best to steady her breathing, wanting to try and communicate with her loving husband. She felt her body relax until she talked to Alfie once again.

“Alfie, talk to me, you know you can always tell me what is wrong,” Freya said, placing a gentle hand on top of his left shoulder but he shoved her hand away from him startling her with fright.

“Why would you fuckin’ care about what happened to me at the job today, it's business that you won’t understand. And now you here telling me ‘what is wrong,’ like if talkin’ will make me feel better,” he said giving a menacing look at his wife, Freya felt chills forming through her body appalled by how Alfie was raising his voice at her.

“Are you listening to yourself, Alfie?” Freya now had her voice raised while her hands turned into tight fists as she continued on speaking, “What is the matter with you, how dare you're raising your voice at me when it isn’t my fault you had a terrible day at work. And you're standing here taking your anger out on me. Who by the way is your wife? Who wants to try and understand what the hell caused you to act like this.”

“Do me a favor, my dear yea? Why don’ you just leave me alone and shut your goddamn mouth and instead you can fuck off from my site yea! You're makin’ my damn head hurt more just by looking at your face,” he said breathing heavily in and out from his nostrils, Freya stayed silent feeling as though a sharp knife stabbed through her heart.

Not wanting to stay any longer Freya angrily walked out of Alfie’s private office, shutting the brown door with a loud bang. She leaned her back against the wooden door placing her hands over her eyes and letting out a small quiet whimper. She felt tears forming through her dark hazel eyes, inhaling a long breath of air as she walked her way through the small hallway. She grabbed a long black scarf from the coat hanger and wrapped the material around her shoulders. Freya made her way out of her house without a care in the world, as some thunder was heard in the far distance. Indicating that a storm was coming in but that didn’t stop her from walking her way to who knows where. Back inside the house, Alfie took out a bottle of whiskey from a side drawer of his desk. Before opening the cap, he stared at the bottle for a moment until he saw Freya’s face.

Realizing what he did and said to her was incredibly wrong and inside his soul, he was regretting it ever so much. Grabbing the whiskey bottle with his right hand he frustratingly threw it across the room, making a big splatter spot on the wall. Along with the pieces of glass shattered throughout the floor as he let himself fall on top of his armchair. Tilting his head back looking up at nothing else but the ceiling, exhaling a long sigh while he had his eyes closed. 

What the fuck did I just do… I’m such a fuckin’ idiot…

Alfie walked his way out of his office room, walking through the hallway towards the stairs that led up to the second floor. Cyril walked alongside him making their way up wanting to apologize to her for acting such a dick towards her knowing that his anger got the best of him. Alfie reached the bedroom door and before going inside he softly knocked on it. 

“Freya… sweetheart, I’m… forgive me for screaming at you. I… I don’t know what came over me,” Alfie said, letting out a disappointed sigh and placing his right hand on the doorknob making his way slowly inside the room.

But to his shock, she was nowhere to be found inside but only their empty bed and a small table lamp on the other side of the room. Alfie panicked feeling his heart racing out of control, as he walked his way back down the first floor. 

“Freya. Freya, where are you?” he called out looking from one room to the other, not finding any trace of her whereabouts.

Alfie started to become more agitated after failing to find her in every part of the house thinking about where she could be or run off to. Alfie caressed his fingers through his short brown locks, letting out another irritated sigh. Wondering where Freya could have gone too and somewhere he and she would know to go when they wanted to clear their heads out. That's when it suddenly hit him where exactly Freya could have gone to.

The old stone bridge… she must have gone there…

Alfie didn't wait another minute to pass by and made his way out of the house, leaving Cyril all alone in the house. Outside the dark chilly night, it started pouring small drops of rain as Alfie walked his way towards the path that leads to the old bridge. Where they met for the first time when they were in their adolescent years. He only hoped and prayed that Freya made it there safely the rain however only continued to come down heavily.

This is all my fault…my own damn fucking guilt…

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14 Years Ago: Somewhere In Camden Town

"Follow the path, Cyril. You know better." A young Alfie told his then puppy. 

The pup happily sniffed and walked along the path again, a path he and Alfie took for their afternoon walks for a few months now. It was all very familiar to both boys. Today was no different, or at least, it wasn't supposed to be. Yet, their ears picked up on something. 

"Stop." Alfie whispered to his pup who stayed in place in front of him, waiting for his owner to be closer. 

Looking around, Alfie couldn't place where the sudden singing was coming from. Not that he minded the joyous and raucous tune, but the path is known to be private, which is why he began walking Cyril here two months ago. Straining his sight again, he finally saw a figure under the old stone bridge. 

A young woman, to be exact. She was dancing while singing. Her swaying movements and the unfamiliar tune was like a siren's song to the young man and his puppy. Neither even felt themselves starting to walk in her direction. Their feet simply had minds of their own. Slowly, they approached the young woman who hadn't seen or heard them yet. She was too busy dancing her heart out, the jingling of her many necklaces clinking against each other adding a different beat to the, what Alfie could tell was a, foreign song. He was in a trance as he watched her body move. Nothing provocative, nothing grand. She just seemed so free. Cyril looked up at his owner, wondering why he hadn't said anything yet if he liked seeing the girl dance so much. So, being the curious puppy he was, he happily barked. 

The echoing noise immediately had the young woman stopping her movements and her song as she sharply inhaled, clearly startled as she looked towards the direction in which the bark came from. 

"No, no, shh." Alfie told his dog as he tried to subdue the embarrassment he began to feel since he had gotten caught staring.

Instead of being able to control his puppy, Cyril barked again, and again, and again. His tail was wagging and his ears stood up halfway as he wondered why the girl wasn't singing or dancing anymore as she kept looking at them. Alfie wasn't sure what to do as he looked up from his dog. His eyes met the young woman's, and he could tell that she was either seconds from running away or she was too scared to move and was hoping they'd leave first. He knew one thing was for certain; neither parties moved from their spots as they simply stared at each other. 

He could tell she wasn't from here. He had never seen her in the town, much less under the old bridge that he has been passing under daily for two months. He softly cleared his throat as he gave her a tiny nod, unsure of what to do as she kept looking at them. He wasn't sure if she'd do them both harm, though she didn't seem to be a bad person. Cyril, on the other hand, was still curious about this girl who seemed so free a moment ago and was now hesitant to leave the safety of the shadows of the bridge. 

So, Cyril took matters into his own paws and sniffed the trail as he wandered over to where she was standing. He was surprised when Alfie didn't bother stopping him. Looking up at the girl who slowly looked down at him, Cyril barked, wagging his tail to let her know he was friendly. He sensed that she was being cautious, and the pup didn't blame her. He and his owner were strangers to her after all. He sat in place and softly whined, giving her the best puppy eyes that he could muster. Alfie took cautious steps towards the two, stopping just under the beginning of the bridge. 

He watched her necklaces clink together as she slowly moved to kneel down in front of the puppy. Cyril immediately climbed into her lap, causing the young woman to seem taken back by the gentle action. The pup nudged one of her hands with his small nose, letting her know it was alright to pet him. Carefully, she very lightly patted his back, now curious about the tiny animal in her lap who seemed happy to see her. So she patted him again, and again, and again. Each time, she grew less afraid, less cautious, and soon, Alfie felt himself smiling as he watched her scratch Cyril on his belly which caused one of the pup's back legs to scratch the air. 

He found her smile breathtaking, even if it was directed at his dog and not him. 

"I…um, we're sorry for interrupting you." He said, noticing how her eyes were taking all of him in. 

It made him feel too warm for his own comfort, but some tiny part of him deep down enjoyed the attention from this beautiful young woman. 

She only gave him another smile, seeming confused as to what he was saying. Deciding to try and help the situation, Alfie carefully kneeled down in front of her and his pup, hoping she could tell that they're both friendly and meant her no harm. 

"Cyril." He told her, pointing at the puppy. 

She tilted her head slightly to the right, still seeming confused. 

"Cy-ril." Alfie repeated, only slower this time so she could grasp the name. 

She looked at the dog, slowly nodding. Though she didn't say anything, Alfie knew she understood. Suddenly, she was pointing at him, head tilting to the right again. 

"I'm Alfie." He said, placing one of his hands on his chest. 

Her eyebrows raised in confusion. 

"Al-fie. Al-fie." He slowly repeated, being patient with her. 

She gave him a slow nod, understanding that he was introducing himself. 

"Alfie Solomons. I live here, in Camden. Do…Do you live here?" He asked, only to receive no answer.

They both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"Freya," She softly spoke, copying him and placing one of her hands on her chest, 

"Fre-ya." She said with a smile. 

"Freya." He repeated the name, liking how it rolled off his tongue. 

She happily nodded after he had said it. He stretched out his right hand towards her, watching as she looked at it with curiosity. 

"You give me your left hand, and we shake 'em together. That's how you greet someone who you just met." He explained.

Freya still didn't understand, so he gently took her left hand in his right one. Very slowly, he shook hands with her, noticing that she seemed to be paying close attention. 

"It's nice to meet you." He said, adding a slight smile for good measure. 

He tried to let go of her hand, but she didn't want to let him go. She had never been so patiently dealt with by someone foreign to her. Alfie felt himself blushing as they just awkwardly kept holding hands, wondering why she would choose to keep holding on to him. 

"Do you live here?" He asked her again, only to earn another head tilt. 

"Um," 

His mind was racing as he thought of ways to gesture at a house or anything that resembled a home. Suddenly, an idea hit him as he spotted a small twig beside his leg. She let go of his hand as his other began picking up the twig. He did the best that he could to draw an outline of a house between them on the sand beneath their legs. 

"Home?" He asked, motioning to his simple drawing. 

All Freya did was curiously look at him before something visibly clicked within her. She pointed to the twig, and Alfie quickly gave it to her. He was so caught up in looking her over that he hadn't realized what she was doing. That is, until a voice was heard in the far distance. 

"Freya!" A man's voice shouted.

Alfie watched as she happily turned around, looking towards where the voice came from. Turning again to face her new friend, she pointed behind her. 

"Tata." She said with a smile. 

Now it was Alfie's turn to give her a look of confusion, watching as she handed a snoozing Cyril to him before she carefully rose to her feet. He quickly followed, careful to not wake his puppy. 

"Freya!" The man's voice shouted again, sounding slightly closer this time. 

"Tata." The young woman repeated to Alfie who gave her a slow nod. 

Then it clicked. 

'Must be her father.' He thought as she gave him another smile. 

"Home." She softly added as she tried her best to copy how he had pronounced the singular word, once again pointing in the same direction she had a moment ago. 

"Oh, right, yeah. I best be headin' back myself. 

"Home?" She asked with a curious expression, her words laced with happiness. 

"Yes. My home is that way." He answered with a slight smile, pointing behind him, his thumb gesturing towards the path he and Cyril took.

"Jutro." She said with a look of hope. 

Once again, he was confused. 

"Jutro?" She asked instead, hoping it would make a difference. 

"I…I don't understand." He softly explained, taking a step closer to her.

"Jutro…jutro." She slowly repeated, making a gesture with her hands as she also took a step closer towards him.

Alfie paid close attention, trying to grasp what she meant as he closely watched her hands. Her left hand stayed still as her right one moved back to the front over her left. 

"Jutro?" She asked in a whisper. 

Then it hit him. 

"Tomorrow!" He blurted out, finally understanding. 

"Jutro!" She happily hummed out, grateful that he knew what she meant. 

"I'll come back tomorrow. Me and Cyril," He pointed to himself and his pup, 

"Will meet you," He pointed at her,

"Here." He promised as he pointed between them.

They were both happy that they had reached an agreement, just in time, as her father called out a third time, the voice closer now. She reached towards Cyril, giving his head a loving pat, being careful to not wake him. With a final look to Alfie, Freya slowly waved at him, giving him such a sweet smile before she hurried out from under the old stone bridge. He watched as she soon disappeared into the fog that was covering the far distance of Camden. 

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Some Time Later

Freya, Alfie, and Cyril were inseparable. Wherever one was, so were the other two. The three spent much time each day under the stone bridge. It was mostly because Freya was scared to leave its safety. She had never dared go past the bridge, and Alfie never forced her. Until one month later when one particular morning Cyril had stepped on a small thorn and Alfie wasn't sure what was wrong with his pup. 

"Mate, you're limping." He said in concern as Cyril sat in place. 

Squatting down, Alfie carefully looked over his whimpering pup, trying to figure out what the source behind the discomfort was. 

"Alfie!" Freya happily called out to him from under the bridge. 

Looking towards her, he waved at her since she was waving at him. 

"I'll be just a second, alright? Something is wrong with Cyril." He called out to her as worry towards his dog's health began creeping into his head. 

Freya quietly watched as Alfie sat on the floor and Cyril didn't climb in his lap. In her eyes, it was all too strange that the puppy would rather sit on the floor than in his owner's lap because Cyril loves being in her and Alfie's laps. 

She could hear Alfie talking to Cyril, but all he would get in return were whines and whimpers of discomfort. Worry rose within her, and it was so fast in that moment that she hadn't realized her feet had minds of their own. They quickly walked her out from under the bridge and towards her friends. She sat beside Alfie, who glanced over at her then back to his dog, but then he quickly fully looked over at her. 

"Cyril." She said in worry with a small frown. 

Carefully, she picked him up, doing some inspecting of her own to see if Alfie possibly missed something when he had done the same just a second ago. 

"Freya, you're-" 

"Found it." She announced as she very gently laid the dog on her lap. 

She spotted a very small thorn wedged between the pads of his left back paw. 

"A thorn?" He asked her as she held it up for him to see. 

"Yes." She answered before flicking it away from them. 

"Better, Cyril?" She asked the pup as she set him on all fours. 

He happily wagged his tail before barking, obviously in a much better mood. 

"Freya," 

She turned to look at Alfie who wore a surprised expression on his face. 

"Yes?" She asks curiously. 

"You're out from under the bridge." He told her gently. 

She looked behind them, finding he was correct. She had left the safety of the bridge. Yet it didn't feel different now that she was out from under there. She was with Alfie and Cyril, which made everything seem normal. 

"Is good?" She hesitantly asked him. 

He gently smiled at her, enjoying that she had learned the English language so quickly with his help.

"Do you feel good about being here in the open?" He asked her. 

After giving the question some thought, she nodded, giving him a smile in return. 

"Then this means I can show ya the shops in the town." He excitedly said, and the thought of seeing all the different stores and products they have to offer caused her to smile again. 

That day, while they were in town, he asked her if she would allow him to be her boyfriend. She looked at him in slight shock as she thought of what he had just asked.

"If you don't want to be with me, I understand. It's just…I fancy you so much, Freya. You understand me like no one else does. You're beautiful and kind. Your nature is to heal and comfort. Mine is to destroy and create chaos. But none of that happens when I'm with you." 

"Yes." She answered once his words ceased. 

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, big smiles began to spread across their lips before she happily hugged him. He hugged her back, holding her tightly as she excitedly giggled into his chest. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

1914: World War I

Two months passed before their lives drastically changed. A war had begun, and by what Alfie told Freya, any and all help was needed. 

"They sent me this." He told her, holding up a folded paper. 

"What is it?" She hesitantly asked. 

He took a good long look at her. He didn't want to tell her. He couldn't. He couldn't bear to see the sadness he knew would be on her face. He didn't want to tell her that he might die far away from home. Yet he forced himself to answer her. 

"It's a letter. I've been…" 

She stepped closer to him, seeing the worry in his eyes,

"I've been drafted. They need me to go fight. I leave in two weeks." 

Silence lingered between them as they looked at each other.

"You can't leave." She whispered as a small frown took over her lips. 

"I have to. They'll punish me if I don't." He softly explained. 

"But…But what if you don't return?" She asked him.

Tears began to form in her eyes, and he quickly wrapped his arms around her. 

"I will. I will return. That much I promise you." 

Those two weeks were spent with each other. The young couple felt that they couldn't get enough time together as the day they both dreaded quickly approached. When that morning came, the two closely stayed by each other's sides as they waited for the designated train to pull into the station. 

Freya couldn't stop thinking about how to help Alfie feel less nervous. He was holding her hand as if his life depended on it. Then it dawned on her.

She moved to take off one of the many necklaces that hung around her neck. Making sure she had the one she wanted, she moved to stand in front of her boyfriend. He looked at her with curious eyes, wondering what she was doing. He had his answer when she held the necklace towards him. Understanding that she was trying to help, he slightly dipped his head down and felt her carefully slip it over his head. As it rested against his chest, he looked down at it, finding a small coin-sized plate hanging from the chain. The name of his girlfriend was engraved in a fancy font on the face of it. 

She had opened her mouth to speak, but the train was coming into the station, blaring its horn in the process. The other men, young and older and who had also received a letter that requested their help in the war, began saying goodbye to their significant others or their families. Slowly, Freya's eyes met Alfie's. 

"I promise to come back to you. No matter how far away I am, you'll be here in my heart. That's why you gave me this, right?" He asked as he pointed to the necklace. 

"Yes." She answered in a whisper. 

The train horn blared again, and even though the recruited men didn't want to, they all began lining up beside the train car to board it. Mothers and wives were crying while waving their sons and husbands off. Looking down at Freya, Alfie tightly embraced her. It was warm and loving, and neither wanted to let go. Reluctantly, he was the first to pull away after a solid minute. 

"Don't cry, my love." He whispered as he gently wiped away her tears. 

She placed her hands over his own, wanting to feel them in hers one last time until who knew how long. He leaned down, placing his mouth over hers, and she followed along by closing the space between them. The kiss was beautiful; familiar, and slow as they tried to be physically connected for as long as they could. When they couldn't breathe anymore, they pulled away, and after they caught their breaths, she sadly watched as he picked up his bags. 

"Can I ask you for a favor?" He spoke softly. 

"Anything." She answered quickly. 

"Will you please look after Cyril and collect my mail while I'm gone? I don't get much, if any, but I'll write to you every chance I get." He explained. 

She gave him a nod as it sank in for both of them that they were not dreaming and would be apart with neither knowing for how long. With an apologetic expression towards her, he began to also join the long line of recruited men. 

He was only 15 feet away from her, yet she was already missing his touch. So, she did what any love stricken girlfriend would do. 

"Alfie!" She called out. 

He was about to fill an empty spot in the line when he quickly turned around. He was met by Freya rushing towards him, and just before he could drop his bags, her arms were around his neck. The force that came with her was so great that he almost lost his balance, but the young men on his right and left sides steadied him. They gave him knowing smiles as they took his bags and held them for him. His arms were wrapping themselves around her waist once his hands were free. 

When she looked up at him, they kissed again, the action done in haste as the train horn was heard again. When they pulled away, Alfie rested his forehead against hers. 

"I love you." He told her with such seriousness that she couldn't help but smile. 

"I love you, too." She responded, and he slowly began to let go of her just like she did to him. The warmth they both felt from the embrace quickly turned cold as the two young men handed Alfie his bags again. Freya smiled sadly at him, earning the same smile from him.

A woman gently pulled her away from the line as it shortened, telling her that it was safer to wait by the waiting area than be too close to the tracks. Freya learned that the woman was a mother and had just said goodbye to her three sons. They both stood together, watching in fear and sadness as the train began to slowly take off. Alfie waved at her, just like the woman's sons did. The four had gotten seats right beside some windows. Freya waved back at him, trying her best to not cry so Alfie wouldn't remember her like that.

From that day, exactly one week passed until she heard from him. She was sitting in the living room of his home. Cyril was lying beside her as they both occupied the longest sofa. As she went through the mail to see if he had written to her, her heart raced when she saw her name on one envelope. She dropped the other few envelopes to the floor and got to opening hers right away. Her eyes were met by her boyfriend's handwriting, and they didn't hesitate to begin reading. 

'Freya, 

I am missing you. I know it has just been a couple of days, but I cannot wait to see you again. It is hard to be away from you for this war against France. I know that what I am doing is for the good of people, but nothing truly feels good without you. I am hoping to see you again soon. But, until then, know that I love you dearly and that I left my heart with you, my darling. 

I love you, 

-Alfie 

Tears ran down her cheeks as she realized that only a week had passed. How long would it be until they saw each other again? Would he make it back? Would this war turn him into someone she wouldn't recognize when…if…he returned? Looking at Cyril, who was closely watching her, Freya continued to softly cry. The dog became concerned, so he moved his head to be in her lap. As soon as she felt Cyril's weight, she hugged him, crying into his fur as he lowly whined. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Freya. Freya, can you hear me love?” Alfie called out walking through the big green forest both his shoulders and hair drenched in rain.

He has been calling out for his wife for an hour or so hoping that she didn’t go far from where they lived. Beneath his shoes the pathway was muddy in some spots trying his best to not slip. Some paces later Alfie saw a black smokey cloud in the distance. At first he thought it would be Freya’s family that were set at camp but as he made his way towards the cloud. It turned out to be the old stone bridge where he and Freya would mostly spend time together and where they first met all those years ago. It’s like he could remember it like it was yesterday.

How time flies so fast…

Seeing the smoke coming from underneath he carefully made his way down a steep path. Once making it down Alfie embraced the site of the old bridge placing a hand against its few stones. Remembering the old days of both him and Freya’s life when they would meet each other secretly. Until Freya’s father found out about their meetups one day and it caused both of them to not see or speak to each other for weeks. But eventually Freya told her father that Alfie was nothing but a gentleman and a marvelous boy towards her. Knowing that Alfie wasn’t never the type of man to lay a hand on her for any reason. Her father at first didn’t believe in her daughter for a while but eventually when one day Alfie without feeling afraid. Went to visit her home and talked with her family hoping that they will see a different perspective and let Freya be his friend. 

“If you ever do anything that will harm my lovely daughter you stay away from us and never come back. Is that understood boy?” Said Harald Freya’s father pointing a sharp finger at the young boy which in reply a nod in agreement. 

And after that discussion Freya was free to see and speak with Alfie which she was relieved that her father finally let her see her friend. It was as if that event just happened yesterday how he wished to relive that moment one more time.

Alfie then made his way towards the large opening of the bridge where he found Freya sitting on the wet cold ground. Hugging her legs together while she stared at the small campfire she made not too long ago. Her long dark brown hair was wet from the rain as well as her clothes. It didn’t bother her since she is after all a gypsy who has traveled to many places. And the rain was one of her favorite weathers feeling like she is at peace for the most part. Freya didn’t notice his presence until Alfie sat next to her. She scooted a bit to the side still feeling upset towards him not forgetting what he told her earlier. Alfie noticed this not wanting to push her buttons anymore knowing he has caused so much tonight. The crackling sound of the wood against the fire continued and Freya and Alfie didn't say much for a moment. While the sound of faint thunder was heard far towards the distance as the drops of water continued to gently pour down. Alfie wanted to say something at first but he didn’t feel brave to say anything yet. Freya tightens her long black scarf around her shoulders, feeling the cool wind feeling shivers running through her body. Noticing this Alfie without exchanging any words removed his long black coat from himself. He gently placed the warm material over Freya making her flinch but yet welcomed it. She looked him in the eyes giving off a small faint smile nodding her head in “thank you.” Alfie returned the gesture they both didn’t say much again. As some time has passed for too long Alfie finally surprising himself at the words he said next.

“I’m sorry,” is all that he could say looking forward to the fireplace.

When Freya heard him say those two words she looked at him with a confused look. Not believing in what he just heard him say.

“What did you say?” She then said wanting to make sure she heard him correctly.

Before he said anything he sat straight while clearing his throat. He turned to see his wife having to repeat himself again. Inhaling a small breath he heard himself again saying those two words he mostly never says until now.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you back at home my love. My frustration and stubbornness got the best of me and I never meant to say those things to you either. Work has been a pain in the ass these past couple of days and today was the worst of them all,” he says, lowering his eyes looking at his hands biting his lips together as he went on, “once those words came out of me mouth I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. Looking at your eyes I saw how hurt you felt and I wanted to just kill myself then and there for what I have said to the love of my life. I just…just.”

Freya could see the tears forming against his blue eyes knowing that he meant every word that he was saying to her. Seeing and hearing the guilt in his eyes and voice wishing he could take back what he didn’t mean to say. She also felt her eyes filling with tears as one teardrop stream down the corner of her right eye gently wiping it away with the back of her right hand. No words were exchanged Freya tightly hugged Alfie around his neck almost making him tilt to the side. But they both steadied themselves; she then felt his arms wrapping around her embracing in each other's arms. 

“I know you didn’t mean those words my love, but that doesn’t make me stop loving you no matter what. I love you so much my Alfie, like you don’t imagine,” she said leaning back to look him in the eyes, placing her right hand against his left cheek as their foreheads touch each other.

“I promise you at this very moment that I’ll not let my emotions get to me very easily. Because I never want to see my flower look sad and hurt ever again. And I love you too my Freya like you don’t know either,” he said back, placing a small light kiss on top of her forehead.

“I hope you know I’m not one of your workers who will tolerate your screaming and shouting, Alfie. I'm your wife." Freya reminds her husband placing both her hands on each side of his cheeks.

Alfie nods immediately. "I know, sweetheart.”

"Don't you ever do this to me again, yes?” Freya says, sounding not too angry anymore with a more relaxed smile.

He gives her a small smile while nodding again. "I wouldn't dream of it." He says as he gets closer to her. 

She can't stay mad at him forever, so she also gets closer to him. He leans down to kiss her, and when their lips touch, it all comes flooding back to him. The very first moment they shared their love for each other. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

She could only imagine the beautiful bodies of other young women he had seen before she had ever met him. How could she compare? Surely they were much more beautiful than she. Every scar she had ever earned, from quick evacuations with her family when they encountered danger throughout their travels, were on display. They were like directions to every imperfection she had. Yet there she stood in front of the edge of his bed, bare. He stood before her, wearing only boxers. His bright blue-green eyes drank in every centimeter of her skin before they looked deep into her eyes. 

"Freya," 

The way her name gently left his mouth made her heavily blush. All she could hear in his words was love. The emotion was very clear, and it gave her some relief, but not enough to wash her nerves away entirely. 

“You’re absolutely stunning; a vision, a work of art.” He spoke, genuinely meaning every word.

He slowly closed the space between them, his eyes staying on her face the whole time as he walked a few steps towards her. She suddenly held her breath. She didn’t want to tell him that this was her first time having sex. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper. 

He could see there was some concern written on her face, and it only grew the more he looked at her. 

“Alife, I…” 

He patiently waited for her to say what she needed, 

“I’ve never had sex.” 

His face grew pink at her confession. 

“We don’t have to do anythin’, love. I would hate to make you uncomfortable.” 

“I want to.” She quickly assured him. 

Silence took over between them as they stared at each other. 

“Neither have I.” He confessed. 

“What?” She asked softly. 

“I’ve also never had sex.” He clarifies. 

“Do you still want to…with me?” She asked with hesitance. 

“It would be an honor to have you be my first, my darling.” He answered.

She smiled up at him as her body relaxed a bit more. Slowly, she reached towards him, lightly placing her hands on his bare chest. It showed scars, all of them proof of his time away from home and fighting against enemies. A small smile crossed his lips as he placed his right hand at the back of her neck. His left hand made itself at home at her lower back. Before she knew it, he gently laid her down on his bed, helping her get more comfortable before he was hovering over her. His body was flush against hers but he made sure to keep his weight off her. 

“I’ll look after you, my love.” The promise was said in a gentle voice, and it caused the rest of her nervousness to fade away. 

Slowly, he dipped his head down and his lips began to pay special attention to the crook of her neck, leaving gentle kisses along one side. A sharp inhale had him straightening up. His eyes met hers, only to receive a nod. 

“I’m alright.” She whispered as a blush appeared. 

“I will not hurt you.” He spoke once he realized that she had been enjoying herself. 

Her focus on the soft pressure of his lips against the skin of her neck was broken when an entirely new sensation caught her by surprise. His right hand had begun to slowly trail up the inside of her leg. It traveled up slowly, leaving goosebumps behind as it rested on her hip. Lifting his head once again, his eyes were glued to her. He needed to make sure she was okay with what he was doing. The look of sheer lust in his girlfriend’s eyes was enough to send a blush erupting through his cheeks. He never removed his gaze from her face as his hands met at her underbust. 

“May I?” He asks, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. 

“Please.” She answered, arching her back off of the bed. 

He wasn’t sure if it had been the way she sweetly exhaled his name or if the sight of her so eager to be felt by him caused confidence to surge through him, but he was grateful that she trusted him so much. Slowly, his hands made their way up her sides, stopping on either side of her breasts. Very gently, he cupped them at the same time, earning a satisfied hum from her. 

“You’re warm.” She spoke, causing a chuckle to leave his mouth. 

“That’s one of the reasons you’re with me, innit?” He asked, watching a smile form on her lips. 

“One of many.” She answered, closing her eyes as his large, calloused hands began to completely cover her breasts. 

It was a nice contrast of rough against smooth. She enjoyed the way his hands held her so perfectly as his lips began kissing down her chest. They moved to kiss her left breast, then her right, and each kiss felt better than the last. He loved the way her back arched into him; it told him that he was doing a good job so far, and he wanted to keep that up. His index and thumb fingers found her nipples, and he gently began rolling them between his fingers at the same time. 

“Oh!” She moaned out. 

Her hands reached out to grab his arms, but by no means was she trying to get him to stop. Instead, she pulled him closer, and her fingers threaded his hair. She could feel immense heat between her legs, knowing that as much as she wanted to take it slow, she wasn’t going to last much longer. Her eagerness aroused him so much that his erect cock was throbbing in his boxers. Yet, he didn’t want to rush anything, for her sake. The last thing he wanted was to wind up hurting her unintentionally. His lips continued their kisses along her chest, leaving light love bites here and there, before they trailed kisses up to her neck. One of his hands left one of her breasts to gently glide down her stomach and stopped just above the place she needed his touch the most. She moaned into his mouth, hoping to convey her feeling of arousal to him enough for him to be bold enough to touch her. 

“Alfie, please.” She whimpered after they pulled away.

“You’re sure?” He hesitantly asked.

“Very sure. I need you.” 

“Say less, my darling.” He hummed out. 

He never removed his gaze from her face, his eyes boring into hers as his hands continued to move down her body while his mouth kissed every inch of her skin that was available. Finally, his fingers rested at her core, and the heat radiating from it was enough to make him groan in approval. Very slowly, his fingers circled her clit, and the look of pure relief flooded her face just as her head tilted back. Her back arched off of the bed and her hands found his hair to grab hold of. 

“Alfie…” 

The way she moaned his name had him circling her clit a little faster, wanting to see if the same blissful look would cross her face again. It did, and it made him so happy to see her enjoying his touch. His hands had done unspeakable things during the war, but none of that was important in that moment. Very slowly, he slid his finger inside of her, the accumulation of her arousal having made it an easy entrance. He slowly groaned as he felt her walls take his finger deeper, tightening around it while he gently moved it around inside of her. 

“You alright, love?” He asked, earning a moan in response. 

“More.” She breathlessly answered. 

“You’re sure?” He asked, slowing his movements. 

He stood up with his finger still inside of her, but he froze in place when she gave him a look of pure need. 

“I want you to make me yours.” She answered with such a seriousness that had his heart fluttering in his chest. 

“You're…sure?” He asked again as he hovered over her. 

“Yes.” She answered. 

His free hand made its way behind her head, lifting it enough so their mouth could meet for a loving kiss. He removed his finger from her aching walls and that hand swiftly slid down his boxers. No longer was there a barrier between them, and while it made her nervous, she found herself excited to finally be one with her boyfriend. He adjusted himself between her legs, gently parting them even more. When she caught a glimpse of his erection, heat flooded her face. It looked much too big to fit inside of her. 

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, having seen the way her eyes went a bit wide. 

“No.” She quickly answered. 

“Make me yours.”

Slowly, he brushed his cock along her soaking wet lips, causing them to slightly part. Then, very gently, he began pushing himself inside of her. Their groans harmonized for a few seconds as he stayed put for a few moments, allowing her to adjust to him. Everything felt so warm and so right when their lips connected once again. 

“You feel amazing.” He heavily sighed, the sound sending pleasant shivers up her spine. 

Her walls clenched around him each time he moved, the motion carefully done before he drove himself deeper. He held her body close against his, hoping to ease any pain that she felt. They lasted several minutes in that same position before her legs were wrapping around his waist. Their eyes met, and he could tell that she wanted more. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. The speed of his thrusting increased, and it wasn’t long until both of them were moaning messes. She didn’t even have time to process the entirety of what was happening to her before she felt an all too strong sensation flood her body that caused her senses to be at a standstill. He stopped moving, wanting to make sure she was alright as her high ended a moment later. He peppered her face with gentle kisses before his lips were covering hers. 

“Freya, I…I’m close.” He warned her when he felt her walls fluttering around him. 

She tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, preparing herself for what was to happen. He was about to move away from her to pull out, but she was quick to stop him by his shoulders. 

“Fill me.” 

A look of shock covered his facial features when he realized she was being serious. 

“Please.” She begged, and the whine alone was enough for him to give in. 

Hugging her to himself once again, he thrusted into her a few more times before he was groaning into one side of her neck. She softly moaned at feeling his hot cum filling her. He stayed inside of her for another minute before very carefully pulling out. He was quick to lay beside her, wrapping her up in his arms as she curled into his body. He reached for his discarded shirt, draping it over her as they both caught their breath. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, being the first to break the comfortable silence that filled his bedroom. 

“Yes. Are you?” She softly asked in return. 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.” 

He looked down at her and gave her a small smile. 

“Love, I should be the one thankin’ you for trustin’ me so much.” 

She smiled at his words as he kissed her head. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Epilogue: 5 years Later

“Where are those two rascals off too again?” Freya said to herself looking around from one room to another.

It has been a while since they moved out from Camden Town where Alfie was lucky enough to inherit a house near the beach. Margate was the name and it has been treating them fairly well where there was nothing else but a wonderful view of the sea and most of all quietness. But that wasn’t the only thing that brought the couple closer together. 

The sound of a small giggle was heard somewhere beyond the hallways which Freya knew exactly who it belonged to. 

“Alright now come out, come out wherever you all are,” called our Freya quietly tiptoeing her way towards where the chuckles were coming from. 

After Alfie and Freya got married some 3 years ago they afterwards welcomed their first child. It was such a blessing for the married couple that Alfie thought it was all a dream. Ellie was the baby girl's name, brown eyes like her mothers with a mix of stubbornness just like her father. It was a day to remember when they heard their baby’s first breath. Ever since that day Alfie was determined to be by his wife’s side, not caring if the distillery could continue without him. What mattered to him the most was his wife and daughter helping Freya out whenever she needed some time away from the baby. One late night however when Ellie was crying for hours Alfie took the baby in his arms while rocking against a wooden chair. He started to sing a lullaby to her in his mothers tongue which surprisingly made the little creature feel at ease. He also didn’t notice that her tiny hand was tightly holding onto his right index finger. He then smiled as he placed a gentle kiss against Ellie’s soft hair.

“I love you my little Ellie always and forever.” 

Freya continued to quietly make her way to the small giggles that she could still hear. Knowing that she is already near them wanting to scare them in surprise. 

“Shhh… be quiet mama is going to hear us,” said little Ellie to someone else.

A couple of months later after the birth of Ellie, Alfie and Freya then welcomed their second child. It was Alfie that encouraged Freya to have another baby which she didn’t hesitate to say no to him. Nehemiah was the boy's name that was given to him. Just like his father he wasn’t afraid of anything, always liking to get into some sort of trouble taking no for an answer but always obeyed his father whenever he would go one step far. But he would also have his moments whenever he felt like he needed to talk with his mother. Trying to also find his calmer side of himself and getting as much advice from his mother. 

“Whenever you feel angry or lost, always remember that I am here for you my love. And so is your father but just know that you're never alone my little one.”

“Oh you also be quiet Ellie I’m sure by now mama will hear us,” Nehemiah said playfully, nudging onto his sisters right arm not noticing their mothers presence.

“FOUND YOU BOTH!” Surprised Freya, making the two children scream from fright. 

Both children got on their feet quickly running away from their mother which she wasn’t too far behind. She scooped Nehemiah off from the wooden floor yelping and laughing while Freya hugged him tightly around her arms. She then placed a couple of kisses on the little boy's cheeks while feeling Ellie hug her mothers legs.

“Haha mama let Nehemiah go, how did you know we were here?” The little girl questioned, still holding onto her mothers leg.

“You both were giggling and that led me to finding your hiding place. But enough of playing around you two how about we get the table ready for dinner before papa comes home. How does that sound, my darlings?” She said kneeling in front of her two beautiful children while they nodded their head in “yes.”

Some time later it was already dark outside as the cool breeze blew ever so gently while Freya and her two children waited patiently for Alfie’s return in the living room. The crackling sound of the fireplace was heard in the background while Cyril lay down beside Ellie and Nehemiah while the children played with their toys. Freya was sitting on top of one of the couches while looking at the clock, seeing that it had passed the time Alfie should be home by now. Quietly tapping her right foot against the carpet floor the trio then heard the front door open. Indicating that they had finally returned home as Nehemiah and Ellie then ran their way out of the living room to greet their father. 

“Papa papa,” said both children in unison as Alfie opened his arms wide out to them while kneeling down. 

They all huddled down to the floor making both children giggle at their action.

“How are my two lovely children doin’ eh? I miss you all very, very much,” Alfie said as he gently stood up off the floor while Cyril nuzzled his wet nose against his owner's face.

“I also miss you as well you big mutt.”

“Ummm excuse me where is my welcoming kiss? I  hope you don’t forget about me Mr. Solomon’s,” Freya said, placing her hands on top of her hips but gave a cheeky smile.

“Hehe why would I not forget my lovely beautiful wife that always brightens my heart whenever I see her hmm?” He said getting up on his feet while Freya smiled and giggled as they both exchanged a kiss on the lips. 

“Ewwww, gross,” said Ellie, making a disgusted face which Freya found funny. 

Once the happy family settled down for dinner the night went on perfectly. As everyone feasted, Alfie and Freya held hands together as they memorized their beautiful little family. Not believing that they have come this far not expecting to have children this quickly. Alfie always thought he would only focus on himself growing his empire until his passing. But when he found Freya all those years ago as a child and saw how they both fell in love with each other. Suddenly all those ideas faded away seeing the perfect future already blooming in front of him. As dinner was ending both Ellie and Nehemiah started to grow sleepy while they all sat in the living room together. Alfie took Ellie in his arms gently taking her up stairs to her bedroom. Freya following close behind held Nehemiah in her arms while the child tried his best to stay awake. 

“Mama I’m not tired yet really,” protested the little boy but Freya wasn’t having it.

“Now my dear don’t be that way, it is late and you need your rest. And we’re going to the beach and if you don’t get your sleep you’ll be tired the next day. Now be a good boy and rest your eyes now, yes?” She said as she opened the door to the boys room as he placed him down on the soft bed. 

“Really mama, do you mean it? Oh I can’t wait to go now alright I’ll head to bed now,” cheerfully says Nehemiah as he gets himself under the bed sheets making Freya chuckle at this. 

“Very well my little Nehemiah i will see you in the morning my love. Goodnight my sweet boy,” she said, placing a gentle kiss on top of the boy's head caressing his left cheek in between.

Once Freya quietly closed the door behind her Alfie was already out of Ellie’s room. They both smiled at each other Alfie held out his hand towards his lovely wife. Freya walked up to him placing her hand on top of his making their way towards their bedroom. Once inside Alfie gently shut the door behind him and without losing another moment he embraced Freya around his arms. They both looked deep into their eyes as their foreheads touched against each other. 

“How is my lovely Queen Solomon’s feeling hm?” He asked, feeling her arms hugging around his neck while she let out a small giggle. 

“Wonderful as always you know I always still question to this day. How did I get very lucky to have you in my life Alfie? Why me and nobody else?” She questioned him wanting to hear those same words over and over again.

“Hehe do you really want me to repeat the same thing over and over again? How many times do I have to tell you my love? Because if I never met you in my life I wouldn’t have known such a wonderful spirit free and goddess like you. And that I am grateful and blessed   to say that you're my one and only woman. I wouldn’t want no one else but you my dear,” he said while gently placing Freya down against the bed hovering above her, taking in her thin lips between his.

Embracing each other in their arms they both laid there nakedly while Freya could hear her husband's heartbeat against her right ear. A small smile was spread throughout her face wanting to be like this forever. And all the while without Alfie not knowing Freya is expecting another blessing that was growing inside her womb.

I love you always and forever Alfie Solomons… until the ends of the earth…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

#one shot #alfie solomons #alfie solomons fanfic #Alfie Solomon’s drabble #tom hardy #tom hardy imagine #fanfic #tom hardy fanfic #fluff #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy fanfiction #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #Lit SMUT #Fluff #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie x oc #charlotte riley #tom hardy and charlotte riley #Charlotte Riley fanfic #camden town #peaky blinders fanfiction #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders alfie #scandinavia #gyspy #Alfie Solomon’s mood board #moodboard #Alfie solomons aesthetic

[daenakills]

Just an Accident 3

I had posted this in ao3 and I forgot to post it here, sorry. Also I want yall to remember that tommy and her are married for a long time, it's kinda difficult to forget someone that you have loved for so long.

smut. with tommy. that's the warning.

The conversation with Alfie was honestly a bit awkward.

She tried to explain a bit about her relationship with Tommy and how he ignored her.

"Look, the thing between both of us... it was a little accident that I know we can both keep up with, right?"

"Fuckin' unbelievable you are.” he said.

"It's not unbelievable thinking about how Tommy is a total bastard with me though. I just want you to know that I enjoyed what happened.” She was so close to him, with her hands in his shoulders looking at him directly. He wasn't nervous. It surprised her. At least, she seemed to have a type.

She knew that he was going to say something but he was soon interrupted by a voice.

"I see that you're knowing my wife pretty well.”

Damn. It's Tommy.

She removed her hands from Alfie's shoulders to look at her husband.

"You're a lucky man, Tommy." he said.

There was a moment, that for a second she thought Thomas already knew. There was a pause, a silence that for some reason didn't feel awkward, but tense. It was a tense moment, and as she waited for Thomas's response, she felt the waiting gnaw at her.

The second the two of them stared into each other's eyes felt like an eternity. And she couldn't help but think, am I really the only reason why the atmosphere is so tense or is there some reason that I don't know about? And most likely it was the second option. She wasn't the reason why the two of them looked at each other that way, she wad just one more fuel on the fire. And for some reason, she was relieved.

"I know."

The tension had decreased in intensity, but it hadn't finished. Thomas said goodbye, she knew that. But she was so lost in Alfie watching her, and as she watched, her mind kept replaying that night at the same time she was analyzing her situation. She thought about how she probably would stay stuck next to Tommy like one more lamp in the house, remembering that time when she tasted freedom one last time. How demeaning.

They were leaving the event and there was only silence. She was used to silence, it had been years since the last time she had had a long conversation with her husband, without it being an argument, of course.

"What were you doing with him in that place?"

She looked at him for a second, every day she was more surprised by the hypocrisy that Tommy handled.

"Talking."

"Talking about what?"

"Do you really think I can't have something in common with someone?"

"I think you may have something in common with someone, but I don't think you have anything to talk with Alfie Solomons."

"Who says? Maybe he and I have more in common than you and me."

"Anyone can have more in common with you than you and me. I don't get the point you're trying to make."

She was going to admit it, his comment had hurt. He had definitely touched that part of her that adored the Tommy she married. And that only meant one thing.

A part of her still loved him.

She wondered if at some point her love would stop being her great weakness.

The way home was silent. And in the entire conversation, the two of them had not looked at each other once. She supposed that said something about their relationship.

When her children arrived, they received them, and she could stop wanting to disappear from the face of the earth since they only made it more difficult to flee from her situation.

She hated to think that she loved them more than they loved her. That they would never be replaceable but she was easily replaced by any woman they liked. After all they were children, they had no conscience, right? One day they would realize how important she was. Someday they would all realize how relevant it was to have her in her life.

"Why aren't you asleep yet? It's too late, go to bed."

She went to her room without looking back, she started to undress, put on her sleeping clothes and proceeded to lie down to try to fall asleep. When she got it she began to dream. She dreamed very nice things, she dreamed that she was an internationally famous actress. She was enjoying her dream when a hand woke her up.

A hand that caressed her clothes, at the same time that it gently lifted her sleeping dress.

"What are you doing, Tommy?"

"Just touching my wife, I guess I'm within my rights."

"Just say what you need to. I know full well that you're not touching me like that because it provoked you." Silence.

She proceeded to turn around to face him face to face. They looked at each other for a moment and then he kissed her. It was obvious that he wanted her kiss to last longer than it really was going to last.

"Why don't you go with one of your mistresses to satisfy you."

"Shut up."

They started kissing again, while they kissed, he touched her tits. He caressed, squeezed and slapped. She felt like he was squeezing her nipples hard so she cried out in pain.

"Shh, you're going to wake up the kids and we don't want that."

He put a finger inside her pussy, but one finger turned into three and three of his fingers turned into his cock. It felt so good to have him inside her.

Tommy was changing speed and she felt how her breasts were bouncing, sometimes she made small moans so he put his hand to cover her mouth. Her back arched as he pushed her penis deeper and deeper. She couldn't think of anything as he took her, all she could do was ask for more. In a moment of minimal awareness she asked him not to finish inside her, which he accepted.

And when they finished they both fell asleep. Or at least she knew that Thomas closed his eyes, she knew that he hardly ever slept much.

She woke up to find him already dressed, about to leave.

"Morning. Have the children woke up yet?"

"Yes, they are already eating."

"You have already eaten?"

"No."

"Do you want us to eat together?"

"No, I'll eat elsewhere, I'd like to be on time for something."

"It's okay."

She spent her day in bed, after having breakfast with her children and taking them to school. She felt that she deserved a day in bed. The day had honestly gone by very quickly, she always wondered why the days had been going by so quickly.

The days passed and Tommy treated her very well, in fact. He would buy things for her and he would take her and the children to the park to play with other children. 15 days had passed since that night.

That day she was going to bed with him when he told her something that took her by surprise.

"I love you, good night." he leaned closer and placed a kiss on her cheek. She froze and she could only think of telling him one thing.

"I love you too."

"Good to know." He said in a extremely suspicious way.

"Why is it good to know? You already know that, I married you."

"Yeah, but for a while I thought you were doing things behind my back." She got nervous, as a consequence her hands began to sweat.

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, like conspiring against me."

"I wouldn't do that."

"Don't think I don't know what you were up to with Alfie."

"I wasn't up to anything."

"It would make sense, since I have done nothing but be a good husband.  I have bought you things, gone out with the children for a walk, I've been good to you."

There she realized that he thought she was conspiring against him with Alfie. And that's why he had been being considerate of her.

She didn't know if she was relieved or more concerned. What she did know is that in either of the two she was an unloyal woman. She didn't like that Thomas ended up like the saint.

And from one moment to the next, the conversation that started with "I love you" ends with "Now! Let's stop this shit. I just want you to know that nothing is escaping me. You can't just betray me and hope that I won't find out."

#tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #tom hardy #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby #thomas shelby

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Not One of Many - Chapter Twenty Two.

Huge thanks to all of you still enjoying this little story of mine :)

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,253

Warnings - 18+ content, adult audience only. Minors DNI!

“My darlin’, I don’t mean to speak ill of your luggage, but I think someone could do with a new set of suitcases.”

“It’s fine, I just need to get the teeth back in here and the... ahh, cunty bollocks! It’s come off completely now!” Beth cried, throwing the now detached zip from her case down on the bed, huffing. It was a few days before their holiday, and Alfie was taking her home so she could begin packing what she had back there, Beth spending a couple of days at her flat finishing off some work while he saw to the last of his meetings, freeing himself up for a stress-free period of rest, away from it all.  

“Right, I’m taking you shopping. You said you wanted new clothes as well, so we can sort that out too while we’re there.”  

“Alfie, I can’t spend your money for you,” she began, Alfie raising a single finger in protest.

“You ain’t spending nothin’, I am. I make entirely too much of it for just me, and now I don’t have a small tribe of women working a dent in it, it’s mounting up. Now, will you please, please get your head around the fact that your boyfriend ‘ere lives to make his duchess happy, and nothing would make me happier right now than filling the back of the car with a pile of stuff for you to look pretty in while we’re away. Think you can do that?”  

Shopping with no limit. She had to confess; it was rather a thrilling prospect. Two hours later and she was sipping a glass of champagne in Louis Vuitton while browsing items, being tended to very well by the staff, who of course knew Alfie (and his spending habits) of old at that point.  

“I think I like the black more than the brown.”  

“Alright. We’ll take two of the full sizes, the large trunk, the accessories trunk, the carry on and the duffle all in black.” Alfie told the sales girl efficiently.

“Certainly, sir. I’ll take them to the front desk.” Thirteen grand on luggage, and he didn’t even bat an eyelid.  

“Now, what else do you need? It’s fuckin’ hot out there right now, so I’m thinking I need to point you in the direction of bikinis.” She took a look at a few sets, Alfie taking them down from the rail immediately, Beth’s eye then caught by handbags.  

“Oh, these are so lovely,” she exclaimed, looking at the Onthego PM tote in baby pink, and a small, black cross body bag.

“These an’ all, darlin’!” he called to the sale assistant, who began to buzz at the size of her commission from this particular sale, taking the bikinis and the bags, heading back to the desk at speed. “Sunglasses! You need them, come on.”

Over to that particular display she was taken, Alfie choosing a couple of pairs for himself, grabbing a few new belts as well, leaving her to go and try on some skirts while he picked out some shirts. Once arrived back at the sales desk, the purchases were rung through. She nearly fainted at the total. After that, they moved onto Gucci, receiving a scramble of sales assistant's keen to help them again, Beth once again furnished with a glass of champagne.  

Two Marmont bags (one black, one white), three suits, six pairs of shoes, four casual shirts, three silk scarves, a dress and a few pairs of casual sweatpants later and they moved firstly back to his car to unload the bags, before Alfie walked her to her mecca.  

“You have a two worded instruction. Go wild.”

She turned to him, beaming. “I love you so fucking much!”

He chuckled, watching her be greeted by a sales assistant as they walked through the doors of Christian Louboutin, glad she was finally settling into being spoiled. He enjoyed every moment of it as well, watching her trying on the shoes, deciding on the high Kate pumps in nude, the Kate sling in black, the So Jenlove Alta in patent black (which he had to will his cock not to react to, seeing her in such a sexy shoe) the Follies Strass in nude, a pair in lace, Beth beginning to hop up and down that he was totalling up an obscene figure in shoes.  

“Hush, and keep going.” He winked, watching her cover her face with her hands and be offered the next shoe to her foot, the Spikaqueen pump in PU and silver glitter. Five pairs of high heeled sandals and two pairs of slides later added to the other shoes, and he was at the sales desk, his card charged for almost ten grand.  

“Right, Harrods next.”

Beth gaped, taking one of her strawberry lollipops from her bag and sticking it into her open mouth. “We’re not done yet?”

“Nah! I mean, we could have started there to begin with, but I like to show my face around Bond Street every now and again.” He pulled out from his space and roared down the road, Knightsbridge bound. There, he got himself an abundance of summer casuals, the rest of his wardrobe pretty well stocked, turning his attention to Beth afterwards.  

“Is that your pile there?” he asked, watching a salesman at the Alexander McQueen heave a selection of items over towards the desk. She panicked for a second at the look on his face, until he began to grin. “Make it twice the size before we leave, darlin’.” He kissed her forehead, Beth standing there speechless. With the way he was carrying on, she wouldn’t actually need to go home and pack anything from her flat at all!  

And onto Chanel she went. All the while, she panicked about spending too much, but whenever she made even the slightest of hesitant faces, Alfie waved it away, taking out his card. Max Mara, Lanvin, Balmain and Valentino were all visited, Alfie only just about having room in his car for everything the staff helped them take down.  

“And now will you let me take you to lunch?” she offered, her boyfriend shaking his head.

“Nope, because we’re going to one of my places so I ain’t even paying! Well, I am, but you know what I mean.” Forty minutes later and they’d arrived at The Robin & Co, one of those pubs that looked quite ordinary from the outside, until you went inside and witnessed the opulence for yourself. The food was unpretentious, though, Alfie choosing crab ravioli and Beth a chicken burger and fries.  

Once finished there, they were Putney bound, heading to see what else of Beth’s they could possibly squeeze into his Range Rover, Alfie going on ahead with her key while Beth took a phone call from an editor about a recent submission. He was about to push it into the door, when he noticed that he couldn’t, on account of the fact that someone had attempted to drill the lock out. It was still intact, though, meaning whoever did it hadn’t succeeded, a window overhead opening suddenly as Beth finished her call.

“I think I’ve got your number written down wrong, love! And I couldn’t get hold of the landlord either, but two days ago, some lads were having a go at it at about one in the morning. I shouted at them to clear off and called the police, but they weren’t interested as soon as I told ‘em the lock was still working, no one bloody showed up, did they? Twats. Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t get a good look at ‘em either, sweetheart, both wearing hoods, innit?”  

Shit. She’s forgotten to give Keith, her upstairs neighbour her new number after changing it four months previously. No wonder he hadn’t been able to contact her. “Sorry, I’ll come round and give it to you now, Keith.” she called.  

“Alright love, on me way down.”

“And I’ll get a locksmith called, darlin’.” She thanked Alfie, kissing him on her way around to the side door entrance to Keith’s flat, the man with the very brightly coloured hair who made raw hemp clothes and bags for a living answering with his phone in his hand, lamenting more that he couldn’t be of much use to her. After chatting briefly with him, she went back to sit in the car with Alfie, sighing.  

“It’s her, isn’t it? I mean, not directly, but I bet that she’s behind it, paid someone to try and break in or at least give me a scare,” she spoke, Alfie looking thunderous. “Unless it was completely unrelated, of course, and I’m just putting two and two together to make nine.”

After the locksmith had been, it became quite clear to both of them who the culprit was, a barrage of hand delivered letters stacking up behind the door that revealed within vaguely sinister threats, to all out promises of violence. All were typed out, so no handwriting could be identified. It made something cold run through her stomach, an unpleasant tide of unease. Trying to spook her with door knocking and macabre parcels was one thing, but leaving threats to beat her with a golf club until she wasn’t pretty any longer, as well as attempting to break into her home was quite another.

“That’s it, you ain’t staying here,” Alfie confirmed after they’d sat and opened them all, Beth receiving his bundle and going to stash them in one of her desk drawers. “All this and someone having a go at your front door? Nah, it’s too dangerous, especially when we can’t prove it’s her behind all of this bullshit.”  

Beth sighed, looking around her lovely little flat, in agreement with him. She knew as soon as he left, she’d no longer feel safe within its cosy four walls. Anger rose within her, that Talia’s plan to rattle her had indeed worked. “I agree. I’ll go and pack up a bit more stuff.”  

“Beth, before you do,” he began, standing as he caught her hands in his. “This kinda leads me to a question I’ve been mulling over. We’ve been together for two months now, spend a lot of time together an’ all, get on great, in love with one another, all of that. How would you feel about moving in with me?”

Well, it was the direction they were heading in, that was for sure. She did have some reservations, though.

“Do you not think such a decision is a little hasty? It could be constituted as moving a bit quickly.”

He pondered on her words over for a moment. “It could be, but then again, if you compare it to my previous penchant for moving women in as soon as we got together then one could argue that it isn’t.”

“What about seeing too much of each other?”

“Is there such a thing?”

She rolled her eyes, sighing a little, but unable to stop the smile he provoked. “You know very well what I mean.”

“My house is big enough so that we ain’t always gonna be under each other’s feet, and we have our own lives away from our relationship. I just want the last thing I see at night and the first thing I see each morning to be you, darlin’.” Okay, that was beautiful, an incredibly romantic desire, preceded by words that did make a lot of sense.  

“If I do, will you actually let me pay my way?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Nope!”

“Alfie,” she softly scolded, giving him a little thump in the chest. “You have to. I don’t want to live off my boyfriend. Taking me out shopping like this once in a while...”

“Regularly,” he interrupted, winking when she tightened her mouth in slight annoyance.

“...is fine, but I cannot have a free ride from you. It doesn’t sit well with me at all.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to, darlin’, because I ain’t budging.”

She sighed. “I mean it, I’ll say no unless you do. You have to compromise and recognise that just because every other woman whose come before me was content with that, it doesn’t mean I have to be, because I’m not. I’ll even compromise with you. Pick me two things I have to pay for, two utilities and I’ll do it outright, on my own, and chip in with other things as well.”

“No.”

“Two things, or my answer is no. I can be just as stubborn as you, Alfie Solomons!”

Getting his own way was something he’d learned right from the start that Beth wouldn’t let him get away with. So, he bent to her. Compromise. With her, he knew she demanded such.

Compromise, or no Beth there all the time. It wasn’t difficult.  

“Alright, food and broadband, but nothing extra, yeah?”

“I’m taking us out once a week, too.”

“Bethany,” he warned.

She smirked, entertained. “I am. It will happen.”

“Bethany Alexis.”

“Oooh, both names!” she exclaimed playfully. “It’s happening, whether you like it or not. The only place you get to be fully in charge of me is in the bedroom. And now to pack my things.”

He shook his head, chuckling deeply. “So, you’re moving in then?”

She poked her head back around the doorframe, crinkling her nose as she hummed. “Hmmm, yeah, go on, then!”  

Going back out to his car to get a couple of her new cases, he smiled to himself. “I bloody love that girl too much.”  

“Come on, baby beast. Time to get up. The car’ll be here in forty minutes and you’ve still gotta pack all your skincare and makeup.”  

Opening one eye three days on from her lock tampering discovery, she crinkled it slightly as Alfie held her phone out in front of her to show her the time. Five past five. Ugh. “Why is our flight so early when it’s only four hours?”

“Because the plane then has to go back to St Tropez and get Marcus and Della.” Hang on...

“We’re flying private?”

Alfie looked at her like she’d gone mad for a second. “Well, yeah. How else did you expect us to get there? Catapult?”  

“Commercial?”

He snorted. “And why would I do that when Marcus and I have a half share each in a gulf stream?”  

She sat bolt upright, combing her messy hair out of her face. “What, you two own a plane?”

“Er, yeah.”

“A whole bloody private plane?”

He began to laugh a little there. “You didn’t know? Could have sworn I told you that.”  

“No!” she exclaimed! “Does the plane have a bed?”

“It does, actually.”

Out from under the covers she dived. “Fantastic, I’m not even going to get dressed properly, then.” She’d taken a shower the night before, so threw on her undies, her favourite comfy grey t shirt and her brand new, favourite pink Gucci sweatpants, brushing her hair up into a tidy ponytail, cleaning her teeth and putting on her moisturiser. Everything of a cosmetic and skincare nature was then packed into her small trunk, her feet jammed into her slides and a grin on her face. “Ready!”

She was adorable. “I’ve never seen anyone so enthusiastic about going back to bed.”

“I like my sleep, and you only let me get about four hours of it last night.”

Alfie shrugged. “I wanted you sat on my face for a bit, what can I say? You got something out of the deal, didn’t ya?”

She smirked, kissing his chest and picking up one of her cases. “Several times.”  

With Cyril of enjoying himself at Donna’s house, Alfie’s youngest sister who lived down in Essex and who had come to collect him the previous afternoon (Beth sadly not there and thus able to meet her when she’d arrived) they were all free to head off when the car arrived.  

“You ordered a Hummer?”

“S’all they had.” He shrugged, the driver taking their cases over to the shiny, black vehicle.

“I’m definitely asking to stop at the McDonald’s drive-thru now!” He knew she was joking, rolling his eyes and wrapping her in a hug.  

“Behave yourself! Go on, get in the bloody car!” She did have one request for a stop, but that wasn’t until they got to the airport, Beth flying over to Starbucks and getting a huge caramel Frappuccino. “Thought you said you wanted to go to sleep when you got on the plane?”

“Maybe eventually.” She grinned cheekily around her mouthful of green straw.  

“Oh aye?” Her continued grinning and straw chomping left him in no doubt of where her mind was. Right in the gutter. “Well, I guess you’ve never had an orgasm until you’ve had one at thirty-eight thousand feet.” After check in, they were escorted out onto the tarmac to their plane, Beth’s eyes bulging slightly at seeing the jet there. Her boyfriend owned that. Well, half of it. As if the huge house, ridiculous shopping trips and general opulent lifestyle hadn’t really sold it already, the sight of the private plane certainly did. Her boyfriend was, as Magda once referred to it as, fucking minted.  

“Bloody hell, it’s bigger than my flat!” she cried upon entering the plane, her mouth dropping open.  

“Yeah, it ain’t half bad.” His understatement made her turn to him, mouth still virtually on the floor, gesturing around wildly. “Close your mouth, treacle, or I’ll have to put something in it.”  

“You’re filth.” He burst out laughing, taking a seat, Beth seating herself opposite him, the stewardess coming to ask if they wanted anything for breakfast. “Could I have croissants with jam, please?”

“Certainly, Miss Drake. And for yourself, Mr Solomons?”

“Toast and an espresso, please, Katie. Thanks, love.”  

“Splendid, I’ll get those sorted as soon as we reach altitude.” Alfie couldn’t help but smile as he viewed Beth, how in awe she was, how different the experiences he shared with her were compared to the women of his past. For them, all this had been expected and as such, they hadn’t batted an eyelid at it. In their minds, he could afford it and therefore, they were worthy of it. They never said please, never asked (well, bar Mimi and Amira, who did have impeccable manners) and never acted as if it was anything out of the complete ordinary. Beth was blown away by it all, unspoiled and unjaded by everything, only grateful, polite and thankful.  

She was, as his mother had always wanted for him, a nice, humble, Jewish girl.  

And she was all his.  

“What are you grinning at over there?” she asked, looking away from the sight atop the clouds once they’d taken off.  

“You. You’re bloody wonderful.”  

She smiled a little shyly, fiddling with her ponytail. “Any particular reason?”

He winked, pulling her feet into his lap beneath the table. “All of them.”  

While idly massaging her toes, he caught up with a few emails, Beth with her nose in one of the three books she’d bought with her, finishing her coffee before breakfast was brought out. After that, she headed straight to where she’d been intending, the bedroom at the back of the plane, faceplanting the fresh linen with a little blissful sigh. Turning over, she sat up, watching Alfie close the door behind them, reaching to grab his jeans and pull him down on top of her.  

“Now, that orgasm at thirty-eight thousand feet?”

He hummed, kissing her neck. “How many would you like?”

#alfie solomons #Alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x oc #modern alfie solomons #alfie solomons au #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy smut #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fic #tom hardy x ofc #tom hardy x oc #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders au

[thedevilshardy]

Knock you out

Tommy Conlon x fem! Reader (short smut)

You always tried to avoid him. Tried to put the same ignorance in your gaze that he put at yours. When you were at the gym, a silent nod was all he had for you. A cool look, the slight twitch of his chin, and that was it. 

Tommy Conlon didn't like you. At least, that's what he radiated whenever you watched him box and train. And that's why you're even more surprised that you ended up in this position. 

Your breath is stagnant, your legs are shaking, and you want nothing more than that cock, already with the tip pressed firmly against your pussy. He doesn't penetrate you though, just presses his tip heavily against the folds of your pussy, but he doesn't push it in, not yet, even though you're already dripping. That's how much you want this man, who hasn't said a word since he had wordlessly pressed you against the ropes of the boxing ring and had kissed you. 

Tommy Conlon kisses like a god. His lips are soft and full, and what he doesn't say in words he packs all the more into the passionate movements of his mouth. Your breath caught when he kissed you so roughly, your knees went weak, but his strong forearm held you. You don't even know how much time has passed since he had pressed you to the floor, his hands on your body like a command. How deftly those fingers have pushed through the light layers of your gym clothes, as if they've done nothing else all their lives. Biting kisses, gasps for air, sweat, heat, everywhere. There was nothing like pressing your body up against his, feeling his heat, his hardness between your quivering legs. 

He'd almost managed to finger you to climax. But only almost. He'd stopped before you'd gotten the chance, and there it had been, a small, barely visible grin at the corners of his mouth. 

And now you're lying here, his hard cock between your legs, and he's still teasing you, holding you roughly while his tip just rubs very gently against your wet folds. Your body cries out for him, for release. You try to push yourself down further, up onto his dick, but he won't let you. Goosebumps run over your skin as you finally hear his voice against your ear. It's rough and deep. 

"You're so damn wet baby, how bad do you want me? Do you want me to fuck you?"

You nod, swallowing hard against the burning heat in your throat, clawing at his strong shoulders. 

"Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you."

"Fuck me, please. Now, Tommy I-"

A jerk, and you moan. A tiny bit more his hot dick has slid into your center, just barely grazing his tip at your entrance. God, it's driving you crazy, this here, he-!

"You want me to fuck you - right, huh, until you can't walk anymore? God baby, you're so fuckin' wet, you're so..."

"Tommy," your hands reach into his sweaty hair, pulling him down against your face. He growls quietly. "Fuck me, now."

"Impatient nasty girl, you are" he grunts, and it's amused, you can see it in the corners of his mouth.

You get a warm, breathless kiss, and before you know it, he's suddenly forcing inside you with one hard thrust. 

It's a revelation, that feeling - as his stiff cock finally penetrates deep inside your dripping pussy, as he finally conquers you with a sharp thrust of his hips. His lips slowly open as he sinks completely into you - for a moment he looks down at you, brushing a wet strand from your face. 

"Have you ever seen a real buck fight, honey?"

Your vagina tightens, you can feel exactly how your walls vibrate with every word - how they're already contracting tightly now, how they suck his cock in deep. 

"Of course."

"Then I'm going to show you how I fucking knock you out."

And he does. He supports himself with his strong arms to the left and right of your body, bites his lips hard, and then begins to thrust hard and relentlessly. His hips move as if boxing, penetrating deep and only pushing your trembling legs further apart, hard, sharp, tight thrusts, deep into your pussy. You can't even brace yourself against it, pick up his rhythm, it's too strong. And it really drives you to the edge of madness. 

Tommy Conlon fucks like a god, too. His hands claw into your sides, holding you, making your breasts bob along to the beat with each thrust. You see he loves it, the way he licks his lips afterward, the way his hips sputter. 

Your pussy almost explodes. Tommy's thrusts and cock are way too good for you, catching you ice cold and fucking you to a level you never thought you'd reach. He keeps up this pace, even as your dripping walls slowly tighten around him as the warm feeling in your belly grows stronger. You try to hold onto his shoulders, but he shakes your hands off, gets on his knees, pulls your ass up onto his trained thighs. And then he just keeps fucking you, the in and out of his hard dick like a prayer that all you can do now is whimper. 

"Tommy-"

"Come baby, come, I want to feel it, come on."

His right rough hand slides between your folds, and he teases your clit to no end, his thumb sliding over it, teasing the little wet bud. 

You come. You come so suddenly, as if Tommy had personally punched you in the face, as if he had thrown you out of the ring. You come so suddenly and so fucking hard that for a moment you can't even move your body, can't even breathe. 

He fucks you through your orgasm, wordlessly, breathlessly. His hand stays on your clit, keeps rubbing, his cock keeps fucking until you can't take it anymore, until your pussy contracts tight and hot, squirting slightly. And Tommy loves it. 

You don't know how long you feel the violent waves of your orgasm - but eventually you feel more wetness, more heat between your legs, feel his hips fucking harder than before and he lets out a deep grunt. He comes, pushing you over the edge again. 

When you're done, the floor of the boxing ring is wet as hell, showing all the traces of your violent encounter. You feel exactly how his cum runs between your legs, warm, always down your thigh. Tommy's eyes move between your legs, and he grins slightly. 

"We're going to take a shower, and then I'm going to fuck you again."

"Wow, you've talked more than you did all last year," you say shortly, and Tommy helps you stand up. 

His eyes don't even leave you as you walk to the shower, and he even catches you as your shaking legs give way. 

#tom hardy #tommy conlon #tommy conlon x reader #tommy conlon x you #fanfic #short one shot #female oc

[direwombat]

r: define your meaning of war (jacob seed x deputy sybille la roux)

“That’s it,” Jacob murmurs against her skin, dragging his teeth lightly over her jugular and sucking a bruise above her collar — finally marking her in a way that will tell everyone who she belongs to. “Give in, sweetheart. Surrender to me.”

And she does. God help her, she does.

template by @jacobseed

#r: define your meaning of war #oc: deputy sybille la roux #jacob seed x female deputy #my edits #happy valentines day to myself <3 i love them so much your honor #my blorbo syb and the awful man she fucks for stress relief and accidentally catches feelings for <3 #tom hardy as jacob because i can and no one can stop me

[justrainandcoffee]

The one with Alfie owning an erotic bakery shop.

Today I thought about it and how I failed as Alfie and Rosie shipper (and creator) by not giving them an erotic bakery shop 🤣. Now they have one.

I didn't name her, you can imagine this as reader if you want.

Just a blurb.

For obvious reasons the actual moodboard is beneath the cut:

"I think you misspelled 'Happiness'" his wife said, unable to hide her smile.

"Nah, it's perfectly written, sweetheart."

"You know that our girl can't see this, right? Because you are going to explain her that."

"Fuckin' 'ell, love. The girl won't see my art. Want to see my last creation?"

"I'm afraid, but go ahead."

She followed his husband to the back of their bakery and saw him opening a cupboard. He put a cake in front of her.

"Is that.. Is this your..? You baked a cake using you cock as reference?"

"Ya recognise it, mmh? Well, yeah. It's my fucking bakery. And I'm proud of what God gave me. I sent one to Tommy."

"You sent one to Tommy?!"

"A dick for a dick."

"Oh my god, Alfie..." Then she looked at him "Can I taste the cock?"

"The cake or the actual one?"

"Your choice."

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #tom hardy #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x oc #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you

[rockerchick05]

𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆 - 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗋𝖺 𝖾𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗌

𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝘁𝗼𝗺 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘆

𝘆/𝗻𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺

𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘆 𝘢𝘯𝘥 32,560 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗶 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝘀𝗲𝘅 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 ;) @𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘆

𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗒/𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗌

𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽

⇣𝘆/𝗻𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 𝗂 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽

⇣𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝖺𝗅𝗌

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 🥵

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗀𝗈𝖽 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗇 😮‍💨

𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘆

𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘆/𝗻𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 110,702 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝗺𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹𝘀

𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍'𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗆𝖾

⇣ 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝟣𝟦

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 ?!

𝘆/𝗻𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 ❤️

𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘆 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘆/𝗻𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴

#tom hardy x you #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy #fantasy #fake instagram #instagram #ocs #hot celebs #au #alternative universe

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(14)

The Kick

Robert Fischer x reader

description - it's time for the kick.

word count - 1.5k

warnings - explosives, falling, risk of drowning, struggling to breathe

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Robert breathed deeply and reached towards the keypad with earned hesitancy. His fingers brushed each pad and typed in the number which had spread across each inch of his mind.

5

*beep*

2

*beep*

8

*beep*

4

*beep*

9

*beep*

1

*beep*

A loud clank was heard. The steel door rippled open. Screaming at its own weight.

We were affronted with a room of modern decoration. Black consumes our eyes. Streams of white light direct our gaze to the centre. The room fixated on a single hospital bed. Sat alone in its decorated place. Maurice Fischer lays dying.

Our feet push us forward into the room. An invisible string dragging the two of us. The closer we got we seemed to understand a babble coming from the sickly Maurice Fischer. Robert took off in front as I lagged behind, feeling out of place. I wanted to be close as Robert asked me to. But this was not meant for me.

“I was dis—disa—I was disa—” The words seem to fall out of his mouth with no structure.

“I know Dad.” Robert speaks with an assurance I had never heard before. It tugged on my heart hearing his complacency in face of such words.

My body shook feverishly. This was the culmination of everything and we had one shot.

Robert leant into a kneel at his Dad’s bedside whilst I stayed standing a few feet away.

“Disa—disa—”

“I know you were disappointed I couldn’t be you.” His voice quietened upon the words.

“No—no…no.” A silence swarmed the air. I turned around and met the eyes of Eames who waited, charges primed.

“I was disappointed…” My breath broke. “That you tried.”

Every particle in the air broke with the brevity of that spoken word.

Each inhale quickened and erupted in subtle breaths.

Robert’s soul crumbled behind his eyes. His change felt in the shake of the ground of his subconscious.

Maurices feeble hand raised and shook in search of a direction. Robert went to grab it desperate to help in any way. But his hand was shook away so Maurice could direct him to the safe which sat in an ornate dresser.

Robert practically lunged to shove each number into the pad. Once again.

5 *beep* 2*beep*  8 *beep* 4 *beep* 9 *beep* 1*beep*

Behind me I could hear Eames’ mutters of encouragement as we both could feel the beginnings of Arthur’s kick rearing up. I felt anxious in my feet. Desperate to hurry in anyway possible.

Robert opened the safe with interested intensity.

His lip trembles. His face tightens. His eyelids droop.

As he reaches inside his lips wilt to compliment the tears which brim at his eyes.

He pulls out his very own handmade windwill. The very same from the photograph from his room on that fateful day. That moment feels a lifetime ago. So much has happened to us since. And I couldn’t wait for the rest. We just had to make the kick.

But as soon as his eyes clamped onto such a treasured memory, believing his father had remembered it as well, it was done. The air buzzed at the idea’s roots sinking into the ground. The electricity sizzled beneath and a new life was jolted into each member.

But when Robert looked up to embrace his dad he found him dead, once again.

He shook and grasped at his father willing for the clock to be rewritten believing them to have much more life left to live together. I felt a tear slip at the scene knowing it to be a work of fiction. Robert’s dad would never have remembered that windmill.

I approached Robert as his tears streamed in quick succession. I gently placed my hands on his shoulders as he cried tears for a false man. I gripped slightly tighter in silent assurance of my presence. I let my arms slink down to embrace him. I placed a gentle kiss onto his head.

“I’m here.” I softly spoke into his hair but the sentiment was felt all the same.

I turned to Eames and sharply nodded. He responded the same. He pressed the button and the charges sprung to life, exploding around each corner of the hospital.

We would make it.

I held Robert close in comfort. My arms tightly clasped. We would ride the kick’s together.

Every suspended object rattled around us and the world seemed to break.

3

My stomach lurched as the floor fell from beneath us. Plummeting through the layer.

2

My eyes shot open, and I only had seconds to perceive the silver walls cushioning me. I strained my head back to see Arthur grasping at the dropping elevator. I quickly turned to my other side to see Robert awake as well. The lurch in my stomach came once again and darkened my world.

1

I gasped awake again as water rushed through and splattered against my body.

I saw Robert drag out Eames still disguised as Browning up to the surface. Once they were out of sight I ripped my seatbelt off. Schooling my breath so it wouldn’t be wasted I then began to feel out around the van for the easiest exit. I felt a tap on my back and jumped back around but only found Arthur there offering me an oxygen tank. I took it gratefully and managed one fulfilling gulp. I proceeded to swim to the surface out of the open window.

Arthur, Ariadne and I broke through the surface, clasping as much breath into our body as possible.

I spotted the closest bank and pushed my body in a gentle swim. The others closely followed my tail.

We pulled ourselves onto the bank, struggling in our sopping clothes.

I crashed onto my back. My breath still deeply creviced on my chest but I calmed myself with the peaceful image of the sky. It was so real. The sun was warming on my skin. The crisp air kissed my cheeks.

I pushed up onto my elbows and saw Arthur checking over Ariadne. I smiled at the sight of him once again. He met my eyes and smiled as well. But it didn’t seem to reach his ears. I saw a thought cross his eyes and he steeled himself. He raised and approached me. He offered a hand to me and I took it. We stood up together. He began to lead me slightly away from Ariadne, in order to avoid her hearing.

We came to another piece of grass and we sat down together once more, merely looking out on the water. Our knees were touching as well as our elbows and the familiar touch was comforting in that moment. My father was still in limbo. And I didn’t know if he was coming back.

“I need to apologise.” He broke the silence.

“Don’t be silly Arthur.”

“No. I do. I have been unforgivably cruel to you. And you never deserved a moment of it.”

His words seeped sincerity and I felt an unavoidable smile, a sigh at the relieving end to such a painful few weeks.

“Well you were being a bit of a dick.” I knocked his shoulder as I smirked. “So thank you.”

“Arthur?” I fiddled with the sleeve of my jacket. He faced me in a silent go ahead. “Do you..like me?” I nervously asked. He smiled down at my nervous disposition. He took my fiddly hands in his and brought them up so he could kiss them.

“I love you.” He firmly stated. “And I unfairly projected that onto you when you could never love me.”

“Arthur that’s not—”

“Just let me finish.” He softly stopped my thought. “But now I realise that I would be a fool to throw away something as special to me as our friendship over something as stupid as my ego.” We laughed, our hands still locked together.

“I love you.” He continued on. “But I’m not in love with you. And I don’t think you’re in love with me either. But please never doubt that you have always and will always have a special place in my heart.” A few tears slipped out and I pursed my lips to prevent an onslaught.

“You are the best thing in my life, y/n. You have been since you walked into it. And I’d hate to think you wouldn’t be anymore because of something stupid I did.”

“Well of course it would be something you did.” I teased, emphasising the you with a poke to his cheek. He rewarded me with his sweet giggles.

I dragged him forward so I could convey all my love in a tight hug. We separated after a while, each of us very teary and messy.

“Anyways, I can’t compete with all that money.” I sharply elbowed his stomach and he loudly yelped but I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. We both laughed but I dropped off and my face fell. Once he noticed my silence, I felt his eyes drift to assess my melancholy stance. In that moment he knew perfectly what decision I had made. He lightly shook his head.

“Dad stayed to get Saito.” My crackly voice spoke up.

Arthur wordlessly brought me into his chest as he let my pent up tears pour out. He rubbed up and down my back in assurance that it was okay.

“He’ll be lost.” I spluttered out barely above a whisper.

“No.” Arthur said. “He’ll be alright.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

ahhhhh 2 more chapters left!!!

What do you guys think of Arthur now??

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @neotanpopper @deliriouslybi @folklorde24 @thefandomdiaries07 @viarosemcmissile @noirrose21-blog @thepoeticfirefly @xoxo-gothic-girl @skeletonwrite @jellyzelek @kaylamarie306-blog @bloodcanbehot @lazybot @raineeace @thearieunhinged @multifans-things @queenofterrasen418 @bey0ndne0 @justanotherkpopstanlol @iamliterallyspidergwen @frozenhuntress67 @alice2612

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x oc #robert fischer #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer x you #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer inception #ariadne inception #tom hardy inception #arthur inception #inception fanfiction #inception

[marvelandimagine]

Reconcile

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Annie Murphy (baker!OC)

Summary: Alfie and Annie get in their first big fight and work through the aftermath.

Word count: 5,900 (whoops)

A/N: Uh I didn't plan on this being so long or switching between four different locations but that's how things went and I hope you enjoy this behemoth!!

—

It was true that Alfie Solomons hadn’t been in many serious relationships. But he was still surprised by the lack of full-blown arguments he’d had with Annie in the three months they’d been together. Sure, they’d bicker occasionally, but usually over general annoyances and frustrations that were just part of the territory of spending so much time with one person.

“Pet, how can you possibly fuckin’ shed so much hair? You’re actually worse than Cyril.”

“How can you possibly fuckin’ snore like there is a military tank rolling across your esophagus? Oh, the unsolved mysteries of our lives!”

But generally, they were still both riding the buzz of the new relationship, and the days that flew by were filled with laughter and sex and contentment.

So, while he had a feeling that telling Annie he'd be going to appraise jewels from the Romanovs wasn't something she'd be thrilled about, he didn't think it'd be that big of a deal. He'd explain that yes, the Russians were still fucking insane, but it was too good of a deal to pass up, especially for one night of work. And then he’d watch Annie perk right up when she found out he'd be getting her something stunning out of it.

It was a simple, straightforward plan. Until it all went to shit.

All because Alfie, who could normally teach a master class in deliberation, didn't take two crucial factors into account: how much Annie loved him, and how much she feared losing him.

He tells her casually in the kitchen after dinner, tapping her wrist lightly to stop her from instinctively washing dishes. It made him simultaneously chuckle and roll his eyes at how, after three months of her basically living at his place, she still forgot that Edna would take care of it.

“Let me get this straight. You’re gonna fuck about with the Russian aristocrats, the same people Tommy is working with who you said were 'outta their frozen, vodka-soaked minds?'" She frowns, crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter. "Why is that now a good idea?”

He brushes off the question with a wave of his hands.

"It’s not a long-term deal, love, I’m just helpin' Tommy out with a singular transaction.” He grins. “Of which you stand to benefit greatly from, I might add, ‘cause you can absolutely fuckin’ guarantee I’ll be bringin back somethin properly dazzlin' for my properly dazzlin' woman.”

He brings his hands to her waist and kisses her forehead, fully expecting to pull back and see her smiling, feel her mouth on his, hear her joke that she’s totally expecting a full-fledged tiara. Instead, she nudges him off her.

“You said you can’t guarantee anythin’ with Russians, that they’re unpredictable as all hell.” She shakes her head, her voice firm. “I don’t think you should do it.”

Alfie’s eyebrows shoot up and he steps back from her, one hand roaming through his beard.

“The fuck is she acting like I’m some kind of naive fucking civilian? Like she understands this part of the world because I tell her one bloody thing about the Russians?"

He tilts his head, and despite his quiet tone, his words have an unmistakable bite at their edges.

“Well, it is a good thing I ain’t askin’ ya for your permission, An, am I?”

Unlike Alfie, Annie’s reply is not quiet.

“Well, then, have a nice time getting shot in your thick fucking skull after those maniacs turn on you!" She storms past him and into the living room, only stopping to fire back over her shoulder:

"But nooooo, that would never happen to Alfie Solomons, you foresee everything, right?”

If it was anyone else talking to him the way she was, Alfie would’ve already had them spitting out teeth. Instead, seething, he strides right out and cuts off her path, forcing her to face him.

He's so mad at her doubt that he doesn't stop to consider that she's blinking faster than normal, doesn't pause and think about why she’s so upset. Instead, his anger obstructs his usual sense of deliberation, boiling over and spilling out his mouth before he can stop himself.

“Right, sweetie, you keep goin’ off ‘bout things of which you have no actual fuckin’ comprehension of, yeah. And I will do what I always do, right, and handle my business, same as any other fuckin’ day, so there’s really no need to be a cunt ‘bout this.”

It takes Alfie about two seconds to process what he just said, and his stomach drops.

“Oh, fuck.”

He sees distinct hurt flash across Annie’s face, looking very well like he just slapped her, before it quickly morphs into an expression he knows quite well, having worn it often.

Rage.

Now, for once, Alfie is the one backpedaling in a conversation.

“Fuck, An, I didn’t mean-"

“So now I’m a cunt, huh? Because I dared to tell you that I think you’re making a shit decision, one that could get you killed?” She hisses as her green eyes brim with angry tears, but she steadies herself, venom laced in every breath. “Well, if I’m such a cunt, maybe you’re better off finding someone else who isn’t one, someone who doesn’t give a fuck ‘bout what you do. Is that what you want?”

No, no, no, fucking no. Time screeches to a halt as Alfie's whole world crashes down around him. Icy fear douses his anger — would she really end things with him over this? She wouldn’t … right? Or did his temper just blow up the best part of his life in a matter of seconds?

Now, he’s really panicking.

“No, Annie, fuck, c’mon. Let’s just talk ‘bout this. I am fuckin’ sorry, yeah? You know I didn’t mean-"

“Just fuck off, Alfie. I'm going for a walk.”

She dodges his attempt to grab her hand and he lets it fall to his side, numb with shock as he watches her take her jacket off its hook and leave with a slam of the front door.

The silence in her wake is deafening, leaving nothing to distract Alfie from the presence of his suffocating guilt and his fear.

“FUCK!” He roars and turns on his heel, pacing and running his hands through his hair. He kicks over an end table, the resulting crash prompting Cyril to let out a low rumble in the corner.

Alfie drops to the ground, hitting his head against the back of the couch. Why, why, fucking why couldn’t he have just stayed calm and asked her why she was so upset that he’d be working with the Russians? Why did he let his ego get the best of him and shoot his mouth off, telling her he wasn’t asking for permission? And a proper bastard he was, most definitely deserving of his place in hell, calling her a cunt.

It makes him feel sick thinking about it, and he runs his hands down his face. He has to fix this, he can’t lose Annie.

He sits there for about 10 minutes, gears whirring in his head. The only comfort he has comes from petting Cyril, who decided to rest his head on his owner’s knee.

Suddenly, the phone rings. He heaves himself up and heads into his study, praying it’s Annie calling from wherever the hell she ended up and telling him she doesn’t feel like walking home in the dark, that they can talk, that things will be ok between them. That she doesn't hate him, that he didn't just ruin his whole life.

“‘Yeah?”

“Alfie, you need to come down to the bakery."

Alfie grits his teeth at Ollie's voice on the line.

“Not a good fuckin' time, mate, what happened?”

“Noah was out on a drop, and when he came back, someone.” Ollie pauses, seemingly steeling himself to press on. “Someone broke into your office. We dunno how they got in, or what they took."

And that’s the last straw. Alfie slams the phone down on his desk, cursing at the top of his lungs as the culmination of everything going on sends him punching a hole straight through the drywall.

Chest heaving, he cracks his knuckles and storms back to the phone.

"Right, have the boys sweep the rest of the shop, ask the neighbors if they saw anythin', pay 'em if you need to, I don't fuckin' care. Handle this shit, Ollie, otherwise the fuck good are ya?"

"They’re already looking, and yeah, of course. When will you be down?"

Alfie sighs, looking at his watch.

"Gimme a half hour, yeah?" He chooses his next words carefully, telling the truth but not all of it. "I'm waitin' for Annie to come home.”

"Right. See you."

Alfie hangs up and leans back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

“Fuck me,” he sighs, wrenching open the bottom desk drawer to pull out a three-quarters-full bottle of whiskey. Alfie rarely drank, but if there was ever a time to take the edge off, it’s definitely now.

The next 30 minutes crawl by as Alfie sits alone in the study with nothing but the burn of alcohol on his throat, each forward motion of the hand on his watch intensifying the ache in his chest. Was Annie even going to come back, or was she pissed off enough to spend the night alone in her apartment?

He shrugs his jacket and hat on and grabs a pen and paper, taking his sweet time writing out his note in case he hears the lock turn.

"Waited for you for nearly an hour, got a call from Ollie to come to the bakery. Shouldn't be too long, but don't wait up. Let's talk tomorrow before you go to work, yeah? I love you more than anything, and I swear there are no words in any fucking language to convey how sorry I am for hurting you.”

He leaves the note on the entryway table, and as he leaves his house and drives over to the warehouse, he can't stop himself searching for her in every passing face.

—

Six shots echo as Alfie unloads his revolver on two barrels of rum to stop himself from racking up a new tally on his body count.

It turned out that, in their brief neighborhood investigation, his best pair of idiots had discovered that the "dangerous thief" who'd broken into Alfie's office was not a fellow gangster, not a law enforcement official, no. It was a sniveling pre-teen punk whose equally punk friends dared him to break into the business and steal some rum from Alfie's office. And that's exactly what he did, confessing to the Jewish duo with his ear pinched firmly between his irate mother's fingers.

Ollie and Noah seemed to have been voted as the ones to have to give him this news, which they stammer out to him, everyone averting his rabid gaze. Their fear only intensifies when Alfie takes two steps closer to them, his voice quiet, deadly.

"So, what you are tellin' me is that ya called me down from me house, right, all because you daft fuckin' imbeciles got bested by some jumped-up lil' twat whose balls have yet to even fuckin' descend? That right?"

No one responds until Alfie pulls out his gun, with everyone except Ollie automatically stepping back.

"That's right," Ollie mutters, eyes flickering up to finally meet Alfie's.

And Alfie grunts and turns in the same breath, shooting directly into the barrels.

"Clean this shit up or the next round will be goin' into flesh, you fuckin' hear me?" he shouts.

He leaves his men scrambling as he stomps down the hall, slamming the door behind him. He stops for half a second on the street, leaning against the brick wall with his eyes closed, his attention immediately swinging back to more pressing matters: Annie.

He pushes off the wall and gets into his car, his brain switching gears as he heads to the florist's (yeah, it was 8:00 at night, but if the King of Camden needs something, especially post-argument flowers for his girlfriend, you can bet he's getting them) and then home.

—

He unlocks the door and walks in, his heart sinking at the sight of the empty sitting room.

“An?”

But as he turns to set down the sunflowers he got her, he sees the note he left is gone.

Relief courses through him like a drug. Annie must have seen it. She came back. She came back to him.

Sending up a silent "thank you" to the heavens, Alfie continues down the hall, stopping in the doorframe of his bedroom.

There she is, his Annie, curled up with Cyril and fast asleep in bed. He knows it's early, but he can tell she isn’t faking it by how deeply she’s breathing. All he wants to do is wake her up, climb in next to her, hold her, tell her he’s a fucking idiot and that he’ll drop the Russian deal in a second, do whatever it takes to make things right between them.

But, he also knows that, if Annie, with all of her endless energy, has crashed this early, she's got to be as emotionally wiped out as he is. So, as much as it pains him, he just kisses her forehead and heads out to the couch. It's like he's missing a limb, not having her by his side. But like Annie, he's exhausted, and sleep finds him quickly.

—

Alfie's eyes blink open and he's initially confused by his surroundings before his brain catches up, reminding him why he didn't sleep in his own bed last night.

But he relaxes, because at least he has the chance to talk to Annie before she heads to work.

Or, does he?

Because he’s blinking in bright, clear sunlight, and he knows Annie is usually up well before the crack of dawn. He frantically searches through his rumpled clothes for his watch, squinting at the numbers blurred without the use of his glasses.

Fuck. It's already 7:30. He flings himself up off the couch and when he gets to his bedroom, it's indeed empty. He's missed her, and his panic picks up right where it left off.

"What if she actually didn't see the fuckin' note? What if she thinks I was fuckin' angry at her, and that's why I was on the fuckin' couch last night?"

His stomach drops, and he drags his hands down his face. He has to see her -- there's no way in hell he'll make it through his own day of work with this looming over his head.

He doesn't even bother to change, just grabs his gun and keys, kicks his feet into his boots, jams his hat on, and he’s out the door.

—

After the world's worst paralell parking job, Alfie hurries into the bakery and down the familiar path to the kitchen door. He pushes it ajar gingerly and, when nothing is thrown at him, decides it's safe to proceed.

The usual organized chaos of Annie’s world meets him, her handful of all-women employees chatting animatedly as they knead, roll, and decorate. The air is heavy with the scent of dough and sugar, mixing with the warmth of the ovens.

But what lacks its usual warmth is Annie's gaze when she turns and sees him, something mirrored by her loyal employees who all stop what they’re doing to collectively hurl daggers at him with their eyes.

"So much for keepin' this between the two of us," he thinks darkly, but he also doesn't really blame Annie. Her normal bubbliness seems so off that it'd only be natural for her team to ask what was wrong. And it probably didn't help that Annie was a shit liar.

“Hey, pet.”

“Hi.” Her voice is flat, but Alfie takes it as a good sign that she's at least acknowledging him. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

He shakes his head, tries to swallows down his guilt.

“Nah, no way I could focus knowin’ how we left things last night. You were sleepin’ when I came home and I missed ya leavin’ this mornin'. He lowers his voice, a pleading note creeping in. “Love, we gotta talk.”

Seemingly with eyes on the back of her head, Annie lightly shoos the other bakers with her hands, prompting them to sheepishly direct their attention back to their work instead of at their boss and her boyfriend.

Annie sighs and starts forcibly working her dough.

“What else do you wanna talk about? You’re gonna work with the Russians." Slam. "You called me a cunt." Slam. "That’s that, innit?”

Alfie gestures at the mishappen pile of dough.

“And I apologized, right, but do you honestly expect me to believe you've moved passed it when you're attackin' that thing like it owes ya money?" He tries his luck and places his hand gently along her waist. She doesn't flinch at his touch like she did the night before, but she doesn't look at him.

"Listen, I really am sorry, Annie. And if it means that much to ya, I’ll drop the deal. But I need to know why’re you so hung up on me workin' with the Russians. All me work is dangerous, innit, you know that. Why is this different?”

Annie doesn't answer him, just finishes kneading and moves onto the next unbaked pile. “I’m busy, Alfie,” she mutters.

“Never stopped you talkin’ to me before.”

Now, she does look at him, frustrated. “Can we please just talk later? I don’t want to do this here, yeah?"

But Alfie meant what he told her -- there was no way he would be able to relax until things were right with them.

He steeples his hands and brings them to his lips, ring-clad fingers tapping together. "Ya don’t wanna talk here, eh?” Then, he pivots and strides out the kitchen door and out the bakery, leaving a confused Annie in his wake.

He gets back to his car and revs it with purpose, managing to extract it from where he jammed it against the curb and grazes the delivery truck behind him. Then, he whips the vehicle out into the middle of traffic … where he parks.

"This is mad, mate. But I guess that's love, innit," he murmurs to himself. He steps out, ignoring the beeps and honks from traffic around him, locks his gaze on the door of Annie's shop, and holds down the horn.

It works as he intends, with Annie appearing at the door in about 10 seconds. She comes outside, jaw dropping slightly when she realizes his angle.

“Right, this is a much better place to chat!” he shouts across the street, giving a flouncy wave to a car that angrily streaks passed him.

“ALFRED ELIJAH SOLOMONS, have you COMPLETELY lost your fucking mind?!” she screams back. With the look on her face, Alfie wouldn’t be surprised if she stormed right up and decked him (which he deserves, if he's honest), but he holds firm.

“Nah, I am thinkin’ crystal bloody clear, An. I fucked up and I ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘till we work this out!"

Annie just glares back, her gaze flickering between him, the traffic, and the passerby who've now gathered to see what was going on.

“With God as my witness, I will stand here all fuckin’ day if that's what it takes, love,” he adds.

Annie lets out an exasperated yell, throwing up her hands in resignation and striding toward the car, weaving between vehicles.

"You are an absolute bloody-" she stops as she nearly gets clipped by a taxi, and she and Alfie flip the driver off in unison as she lets out a littany of Irish curses before seamlessly switching back to English.

"An absolute bloody maniac, you hear me, waking up half of Camden and blocking traffic from here to High Street!” She slides into the car, slamming it shut, and Alfie follows suit, taking off down the street.

“Desperate times, desperate bloody measures, innit?” he replies.

Annie shakes her head and crosses one arm tightly against her chest, the other balling into a fist against her cheek.

It's probably only a few seconds, but her silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity to Alfie. But then, Annie does something completely unexpected.

She laughs.

And she keeps laughing, loud and bright and infectious, and now Alfie's chuckling with her. His chest can't help but feel lighter in response to his favorite sound in the entire world.

“Oh my God, I cannot believe you did that just so I’d talk to you," she says, wiping away tears of mirth with the back of her hand. “My ma always did say love made people do crazy things. I guess I just didn’t know that would mean being in a standoff in the middle of traffic.”

Alfie pulls over, completing another truly atrocious parking job, tires screeching. And when he turns to look at Annie, this time, her usual warmth is back in her face. He responds instinctively, grabbing her hand with his, and she squeezes it, and it’s like he can finally breathe again.

"We’re both ridiculous, aren’t we?"

“Lil’ bit,” he replies, and they both speak in unison:

“I’m sorry.”

Annie shakes her head. “No, no, you already apologized, and I know you meant it. This is. A lot of this is on me,” she sighs. “We should’ve just talked, I was being petty. Did it hurt that you called me a cunt? Yeah. Will I knock your head in if it happens again? Yeah. But is that what I was really the most upset over? No."

She bites her lip and stares up at the roof of the car.

"You asked me why I didn’t want you working with the Russians, that all your work is dangerous. And I get that. But it's usually work with the devil you know, innit? Or even if it’s the devil you don’t know, it’s not the devil who ran your ma and fuck knows how many other Jews and Gypsies just like me and you outta their country. People who slaughter us and hate us just for breathing the same air as them."

She fiddles with the frayed edge of her apron, hesitating.

"And I got scared," she says quietly. "Scared of what they might do to you. I don't know if I've said this right out, but after Cal … it’s my worst fear, losing you. I’m not daft, I know that your line of work heightens that probability, but I also know people 'round here generally don’t fuck with you. But Russian oligarchs, that's a whole different level. One that made it seem that much more likely that you wouldn't come back.”

Her voice breaks, and all Alfie wants to do is scoop her up in his arms, but with the spatial restrictions of the car, he settles for gently rubbing her shoulder.

She leans back on the headrest and turns slightly, locking tear-filled eyes on his.

"Then it felt like you didn’t care what I thought, so, I lost it. I don’t want to tell you what to do or have you think I don’t trust you, because I do. But, what if you get seriously hurt or fucking killed, and I didn’t say anything that could’ve stopped it from happening. But I also hate fighting with you and I don’t ever want to see you with anyone else, I never should’ve said that. So, I'm really, really sorry.”

Fuck, he loves her so much. And on one hand, he's ecstatic that they're working things out, but on the other, his heart aches from the realization that he didn't consider how his decision to only tell her the bare minimum, to cut her out of having a say in his work -- his attempt to keep her as far away from it as possible -- actually made things harder for her.

“Oh, An. You got nothin’ to apologize for, dove,” he replies softly. “Let's get outta this bloody car so I can give you a proper hug, yeah?"

She nods and they get out, and he pulls her into a bear hug as soon as she’s in range, more appreciative than ever of the warmth and feel of her body against his.

As their embrace ends, he tilts her chin up.

“Right, you need to know somethin', darlin’. Losin’ you is my worst fear, too. I was out of me head yesterday, thinkin’ I pushed you too far and you weren’t gonna come back. Thinkin’ to myself, 'Alfie, did you truly just fuckin' destroy the most beautiful and best part of your entire existence over business with the bloody Russians?'”

He shakes his head and her hands find his.

“So, I got a taste of what that worry and waitin' must be like for ya most days, didn't I? And I'm sorry for causin' it." He sighs. "I know I can’t promise what’s gonna happen in me work — like ya said, there’s always a chance that I’ll need those talented hands of yours to stitch me up."

Clasping her fingers in his, he brings them to his lips, and she gives him a small smile as he continues.

"But what I can guarantee is this: no matter what I'm workin' on, I will always, I repeat, always, have a multitude of plans and schemes in this ol’ head of mine for doin' whatever the fuck needs to be done to get back home to you, An. That’s a promise I can keep. Non-fuckin’-negotiable. With that bein’ said, if you’re still more worried than usual about me doin’ somethin’ you think is mad, I'm perfectly happy to share those elaborate plans with you, and I promise to at least hear ya out, and we can talk ‘bout it like rational adults instead of me bein’ properly shitty with ya. How’s that?”

“That's all I want. Thank you." She kisses him and keeps her arms around his neck, her hands stroking through his hair. "So, what's that brain of yours come up with this time?"

Alfie grins. "Well, me favorite scenario can't be properly sorted, right, until I get there, because it will involve taking a careful inventory of which illicit substances are available that can be used to sudbue an unsavory foe in a pinch." He nudges her, and she just runs her hand down her face, torn between relief and amusement. "Ya know what I mean?"

"No. But, strangely, I'm alright with that," she replies. "You just be safe, yeah, and go on with those plans of yours, love. I trust you, just still don’t trust a bunch of Russian cunts." Her tone gets mischievous. "Now that's a proper use for that word, innit?"

Alfie chuckles darkly. "Yeah, I'd say so."

Annie's smile grows. "And speaking of promises, I didn’t forget that you promised me something properly dazzling out of this.”

“Right I did, my gorgeous girl.” He nuzzles into her and she giggles, smacking him lightly as his beard tickles against her skin.

“When you leaving?” she asks.

“Gotta make sure shit’s squared up at the bakery and then I’ll head out late afternoon. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

She nods and grabs his shoulders, pulling him into a hard kiss that he responds to in kind, a tangible affirmation of his devotion, of being driven by his need to find his way back to her. Back to where he's home.

He rests his head on her forehead.

"Mine," she murmurs.

"Yours," he replies. And he, the King of Camden Town, knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that the title of being hers is the greatest one he'll ever hold.

—

Hampton Court

Everything really was going according to plan -- Alfie hadn't even considered his narcotic-fueled back-up option yet. He fully expected the Russians to bind him until Tommy's arrival, and he knew he had free rein over the selection and Tommy wouldn't argue. Because what kind of idiot wouldn't listen to his trusted jeweler?

Had he not had Alfie and Cyril waiting for him at home, Alfie very well may have considered just staying in that cellar and choking to death on sapphires. The jewelry and gems are exquisite. He surveys them with genuine interest, haggles the value with Isabella, and tosses them on the table. He finds a rhythym as he works through piles of earrings and bracelets, opals and rubies, all gorgeous -- but nothing that says "Annie."

And then he sees it: A diamond necklace with an emerald pendant encircled in miniature ornate suns and flowers.

He gives a low whistle. "Fuckin' hell. That's perfect, that is," he murmurs with a grin, holding up his prize to Tommy. "Whatcha think, Tommy, suits Annie well, yeah?"

Tommy's cool gaze warms the slightest bit as he gives a tiny nod, which Alfie takes as a glowing endorsement.

Alfie gestures to Isabella. “Give ya 10."

"12," she counters.

Alfie rolls his eyes. "11, then."

She looks like she’s about to argue, when Tommy's cool voice cuts her off.

“Let’s say 11, shall we?”

She hesitates for a second but under Tommy's steady gaze, nods curtly. Alfie places Annie's present on the table, noticeably gentler than he's been with the other jewelry.

"Who is Annie?" Tatiana asks.

"A breathtaking feminine creature descended from the most high and most beautiful goddesses themselves, whose radiance would put these here gems to right fuckin' shame," Alfie replies, not looking up from the pearl necklace he’s now examining with his eyeglass.

Tommy translates. "His woman."

"Ah," Tatiana responds, a slight smirk playing at her red lips. She turns to Isabella, the pair speaking openly in Russian.

"That must be one dumb goddess, fucking a rum-soaked Jew."

Alfie’s fist clenches around the necklace, and he looks up at Tatiana.

"Nah, sweetheart, my Annie has more intelligence in one beautiful brain cell of hers than the fuckin’ lot of you combined.” He smirks as she and Isabella exchange startled looks.

“But you are correct in that I am a rum-soaked Jew, but there is a good reason for that. Because my shop, right, is just above a rum house."

"You speak Russian?" Tatiana asks, bewildered.

"Yeah, I do, 'cause of me mum. And you people,” he pauses, glaring individually at each aristocrat. “Right, you hunted my mum with dogs. Through the snow.” The two women shift uncomfortably, and Leon averts his gaze.

Alfie takes a breath and rests his palms flat against the table.

“But back to the point at hand. If you, or you, or you, say anythin' about Annie, the love of my wretched life, yeah, in Russian, or English, or any other fuckin' language, we will have to cut this lovely ol' time we are havin' together short, because I quite simply will not tolerate it.”

Silence fills the dark room, expansive and pressing. Just as Tommy finally starts to open his mouth to break the tension, Alfie speaks, abruptly switching to a breezy tone.

“But who wants that, eh? Today is about forgiveness, innit? Now.” He sits down and claps his hands together. “Do you have any eggs?”

—

Even with the throbbing pain in his hip from the long drive back to Camden, Alfie has a spring in his step as he opens his front door, excited to see Annie.

He lumbers down the hall, softening at the familiar sound of Annie strumming on her guitar. He can already see it: her bare feet draped over the edge of the couch, reclining slightly and humming to herself as she plays.

The music stops as his footsteps get nearer.

"Ah, is that your da, sweet boy? Go get him!"

And as he rounds the corner, he's met with the full force of Cyril, nearly taking him out at the knees.

"Christ, mate, lemme at least sit down first before you try to kill me," he says sternly, but he scratches Cyril's ear with as much affection as ever.

And again, Alfie is nearly taken down by the force of an object barreling into him -- but this time, it's Annie.

"It's good to see you too, love," he wheezes out, and Annie slackens her vice grip of a hug.

"Sorry!" She beams up at him and gives him the kind of fervent kiss that leaves him struggling to string his thoughts together. "As you can tell, you were missed. Everything go ok?”

He's busy running his eyes and hands over her, but he snaps back to attention. “Hm. Right. Yeah, just peachy, truly, love. No illicit substances used on my end. You were right though, they sure did hate my oppressed, 'rum-soaked' guts."

Annie lets out a strangled noise like a growl, but it makes Alfie smile.

"Appreciate it, my ferocious girl, but it's all done and over with." He cups her face in his ring-adorned hands, tucks an escaped strand from her messy braid back behind her ear. "No more worryin' in that pretty little head of yours tonight, yeah?"

"Fair enough."

"Good. Now, I am a man who keeps his promises. And I believe I promised ya somethin' properly dazzlin'. That sound right?"

Annie grins and plops herself back down on the couch, and Alfie follows suit. "That does check out on my end."

Alfie pivots, feigning confusion. "Hm, or maybe I'm misrememberin'. That does happen, see, to old bastards like me as Father Time unleashes his steady and unyielding wrath upon us poor souls."

"No, no, no, I know your head has not gone to complete mush just yet."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, An," he grumbles, and she just giggles. "Close your eyes, yeah?"

She obliges as he reaches into his jacket pocket, carefully extracting out the delicate necklace and tucking it into her hand.

“Holy shit!" she exclaims, her green eyes open and widening with delight. "They really let you, my beloved rum-soaked Jew, walk out alive with this?"

"Ya like it?"

"I love it. It's absolutely beautiful. Thank you."

She beckons and he clambers over to her, taking the necklace from her to fix the clasp behind her neck, which he brushes with his lips.

"Course. God knows you deserve it, dove, puttin' up with all my nonsense."

"Hey, anytime you decide you want to further an apology with diamonds, you're not gonna hear a complaint outta me." She traces the necklace with her fingers, dipping down just above her breasts, and she tilts her head.

"I do think it’d look even better, though, without these clothes in the way. But I defer to your judgment, you being the expert jeweler and all."

Alfie immediately pulls her into his lap, eager hands guiding her sweater up and over her shoulders. Now, it's his turn to trace the necklace, arousal pulsing through his veins as he brings his lips to her breastbone, works his way up her neck.

“I think you have a very, very discerning eye, love," he murmurs, hands running down her thighs. "And I'm a very, very lucky man."

She grabs his jaw and tilts his head up, his blue eyes burning through hers. "And don't you forget it, Alfie Solomons."

And after everything that's happened, Alfie knows he won't.

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